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#mr. white told me we gotta cook
manicpixiedgoblin · 1 year
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Nervous Young Inhumans
Masterpost
Chapter Five.
[Season One Finale]
In the morning she drove him home. He stayed in the car again, waiting for something.
“Jesse, you’re selling?” she pointed to the sign on the lawn.
“Uh, yeah, yeah,” he scratched his head, “I think I’ll sleep in the RV for now.”
“Is that your workplace?”
He looked at her.
“Jesse,” she sighed, “I don’t care. It bothers me more to see you using than it does to see you cooking or selling. But be careful who you’re involved with. I don’t want to see you back in the hospital again.”
“No?” he smirked.
“Not as a patient, no,” Ellie rolled her eyes.
“I haven’t used so much recently… it’s been making me paranoid, I don’t know.”
“Yeah. Well,” she shrugged, “if there’s ever anything you need- I just mean, if you’re ever hurt and don’t want to go to the hospital you could also… call me.”
He stared into her eyes. The hint of a smile on his face. He reached his hand out and touched hers.
“Same goes for Walter.”
“What?!” he paled, “what Walter?”
“Mr. White, whatever.”
“El, I don’t think-“
“Jesse,” she put her hand on his chest, “I told you _I don’t care_. I just want you to be safe.”
“He-how-“
“He visited you in the hospital. I heard him talking to Skinny.”
“Shit,” he rubbed his face, “he won’t believe that I didn’t tell you that.”
“Make him believe. I’ll let him know if he wants this to work he’s not being clever enough.”
Jesse sighed and made a face.
“So, uh,” he looked back at Ellie.
“I’ve gotta get some rest. So do you. But call me later, yeah?”
“Yeah, alright,” he leaned towards her. She didn’t move.
He ended up kissing the edge of her lips, closer to her cheek, before getting out of the car.
“Jesse?” she called, getting out of the car too.
He looked back at her, half a smile on his face.
“Let me help you settle in.”
He stretched out his arm and held her in a side hug as they walked towards the house.
***
She was in the hospital thinking of the freckles on his shoulders and chest. A smile and slight blush overcame her besides herself.
She’d left him with food and clean bandages on around his torso, put the TV on a table inside the RV, ignoring the glass flasks and mess of supplies all around.
Ellie tapped her pen on the notebook in front of her. She liked her work, she liked the medical procedures of being an emergency physician.
But her head was full of Jesse, concern over him still being mixed up with the likes of whoever Tuco was.
***
That day she got home exhausted and slept until her next shift. When she got out of that one she had a message from Jesse on her phone.
“Hey, uh, El,” she heard his voice on the other side, “so listen, I’ve got this work thing tonight with, uh, you know. W. Anyways, I was thinking maybe after that or, I don’t know. How’s your schedule? I know we’re both busy but we haven’t really talked since, uh… well since you came back actually. Just- call me, okay? I- yeah, call me.”
***
It wasn’t uncommon, back when they’d spent every second together, to show up unannounced at each other’s houses. The morning after hearing his voicemail she drove over thinking they should talk at some point, and it might as well be now.
As Ellie was parking she saw a woman in a yellow suit jacket putting up decoration outside his place.
She got out of the car holding a cardboard tray with two cups of coffee in one hand and her purse in the other.
“Excuse me,” Ellie called out, waving as she walked over to her.
“Oh! Hello!” the woman smiled brightly at her, “We’ll be starting the open house soon!”
“Open house, right,” Ellie nodded, “I’m actually here to see the owner. Current owner.”
“Oh, he’s probably in the uhh-“ she waved and grimaced at the RV.
“Thanks.”
Ellie walked over to the RV, opening the door full of bullet holes and seeing it empty not only of Jesse but of most of the supplies she’d seen before when she’d helped him settle down in there.
She opened the back door of the house, which he always forgot to lock.
“Jess?” she called out. Nothing. The living room and kitchen were empty. She heard the sound of metal downstairs.
She shook her head and ran to the basement, where Jesse and Walt where halfway through whatever fucking process, cooking meth.
“Assholes,” she snapped, making them both jump and turn their heads.
“El!”
“What is she doing here?” Walter hissed.
“Relax, man, she knows.”
“I thought I told you-“
“Walt, he didn’t tell me shit. I heard you in the hospital. You’ve gotta work on your sneaking game.”
He stared blankly at her.
“You two do realize there’s about to be an open house tour above your heads?”
They looked at each other.
“Idiots,” she sighed and walked down the stairs and sat on the bottom step. Walt and Jesse were wearing masks and Walter tossed one to Ellie.
“I’m not staying for the cookout,” she set it down besides her, “now what do we do about the tour upstairs?”
Walter began getting flustered, he walked up close to Jesse.
“I don’t care how you do it, just keep them out of here,” he said.
“No, I got it,” Ellie stood up, “you two keep cooking or… just try to be quiet and keep the noise down.”
“Are you sure?” Walt asked her.
“Yo, El, if we get caught and you-“
“Jesse, I got this.”
They both stared at her. She mumbled another idiots under her breath as she walked up the stairs. She opened the door a crack and was faced directly with a young girl.
The blonde in her pink sweater stared wide eyed at Ellie. At least she wasn’t wearing a gas mask.
“Hey, sweetie, you can’t go this way, c’mon,” Ellie smiled and nudged her towards the kitchen.
She pushed her dark hair back from her face and straightened up. She was wearing a normal outfit, she looked like a decent, working adult. Things should be fine.
She walked up to the realtor.
“Hi,” she smiled at her, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize when I ordered Jesse’s bed rest there’d be any kind of activity around the house. I’m Doctor Sanders, his physician.”
“Oh,” the woman looked confused but took her outstreched hand and shook it, “you make house calls, huh.”
“He’s a special patient,” she smiled patiently, “the air in his,” here she used air quotes and gave herself a pretentious air, “mobile home isn’t ideal for his recovery so I set him up in the basement. I hope it isn’t too inconvenient for the tour. I mean it sounds better than it looks anyways, right?”
The realtor paused and adjusted her yellow suit coat. “Right. So I’m supposed to just not let them tour a whole section of the house?”
“I mean I personally don’t think the racket would be ideal for my patient,” Ellie shrugged, “and seeing a convalescent figure might also not sell so well.”
***
She walked back downstairs after everyone left, spending most of the time standing against the basement door and directing everyone towards the contingent rooms.
“What’s that smell?” the woman had asked multiple times.
“Probably the oil diffuser, it’s supposed to help him breathe,” Ellie had said.
She’d gotten a grimace in response.
“Y’all done?” she said when the tour had left.
“Done,” Walter was walking out of the basement. “Well… Ellie,” he nodded, gave another look to Jesse and then left.
Ellie laughed.
“Can’t be happy to be seen like this by his star student,” Jesse joked.
“I don’t judge him,” she shrugged. “If that were me… I don’t know. He has a family to think about and he’s lived as a high school teacher with a shit public school payment plan. What’s he leaving them?”
“Yeah. Do you know how long he’s got?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter? It can’t be much if he’s doing this.”
She sat down on the work table and Jesse reacted by quickly making sure nothing fell. She almost smiled at his being careful around something he’d always been so reckless and intuitive with.
“Do you like working with him?”
“I don’t know but, uh,” he sniffed instinctively before walking up to stand in front of her, between her legs, “if you tried the shit we’re cooking… it’s insane. It’s so fucking pure I don’t think anyone who tries it can ever get high on other meth.”
“Really?”
“Do you want to…” he nudged.
She stared into his eyes, struggling to keep her arms at her sides and not reach out and touch his face. He had a playful smile, kept coming slowly closer to her.
“How much did you cook?”
“Four pounds… a bit more.”
“Jesus fuck Jesse! How are you even selling all that?”
“We’re selling it all to Tuco, and he-“
“Wait, the guy who sent you to the hospital?”
“I mean, Mr. White, he made sure-“
“This sounds like the shittiest business model I’ve ever heard.”
She got off the table but Jesse didn’t move back. They stood almost face to face, she looking slightly upwards. She ignored the tension by shaking her head again.
“If-“ she rolled her eyes and pushed him away, reaching for her purse, “I don’t even know…”
“Wait, Ellie-“
“It’s fine. Just be careful. You’re my best friend and I don’t-“ she held on to the bannister of the stairs, “you know. Just be careful, okay?”
“I am. We are.”
“Okay,” she didn’t look back at him.
“Okay,” he kept staring at her.
After a few seconds she finally went up the stairs and out of the house. Best friend. Four pounds in a day? What the fuck. What’s next? Tuco, whoever that is…
Oh, her head was a mess.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 2 years
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IATCOD Chap. 5; Reunions in Rivendell
*Author’s note*
Alright guys like I mentioned before in the last chapter, you guys are not officially all caught up on what I’ve written so far in the sequel of my Celestial oc tolkien story. I’ll try to get chap.6 up asap after I do some requests as well as get started on my future Eddie Munson fic WOOT WOOT (really looking forward to that one). 
Some really sweet moments will be read in this part b/t Hela and Bilbo (since they have such a sweet friendship with one another both in here and from what I wrote in the first book). Hope you all enjoyed this sequel binge reading and until next time!!
NEXT CHAPTER
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A lot was calmer in the remaining week that followed. Arwen arrived with Aragorn and the three remaining Hobbits, and the first thing that Sam had asked Elrond and myself was where Frodo was and how he was doing.
Lord Elrond told him that Frodo was going to be alright and all he needed was some rest.  And from the time he arrived, Sam hardly ever left Frodo’s bedside (the only time he left were to eat and sleep).  In that time I gave a little tour to Merry and Pippin who were in pure awe at the beauty that was Rivendell (and at the Autumn too, as I said before I thought Rivendell had a more heavenly glow during the Autumn season).
It was also where we were reunited with none other than Bilbo Baggins.
“Merry is that…”
“All be a…it’s Mr. Bilbo.” Merry said.
“But what’s he doing all the way here with the Elves?” asked Pippin.
“Bilbo felt like he needed some peace and quiet away from the Shire. So Lord Elrond had given Bilbo permission to come to Rivendell and stay here anytime he wanted.” I explained.
“Do you think we can go speak to him?” asked Merry.
“I think it’d be wise to just leave him be for now. Besides, I think if I recall from my visit to the kitchens, the cooks are preparing a very special meal for you all and….”
“Special meal!?” the cousins chorused out.
“Pardon us Hela but we uhh—we gotta go.” Merry said.
“Yes, yes we uhh—have very important business to attend to. That’s not here. So umm….we best be going.” Pippin added.  Soon Merry and Pippin ran off towards the kitchen halls. I shook my head laughing softly.
“A hobbit’s one true love.” I then walked over towards the garden where Bilbo was sitting at with his famous book in hand.  I walked up to a column and gently knocked on it. He turned towards me and a soft smile spread across his face.
“Hela my dear friend.” He greeted me.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all, come sit down. I needed a bit of a break anyways. These old hands aren’t what they used to be, especially nowadays.” In the span of the 17 years since I last saw him, without the Ring in his possession Bilbo now appeared older.
His dusting greyish hair had now gone pure white, his wrinkles deepened and more profound but there was a sense of relief that had been lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes had that same twinkle they did when I first met him.
“How is Frodo doing? I’ve been asking around but the Elves have not told me anything.” He asked me.
“Frodo’s going to be alright. He’s now resting and recovering his strength.” I assured him with a gentle pat on his wrinkly hand.  Bilbo sighed heavily and I saw there was a sad look in his eye.
“If only I had known what it was I had found in that cave. If only I had known what it truly was, I’d never would’ve gifted it to Frodo. He nearly died because of it.” He said as he stood up and slowly paced around in front of me.
“I know it’s easy to blame yourself Bilbo. Believe me I’ve been there. But there’s no sense on changing what has already happened. Be thankful that it was you and not someone far worse. Any of the goblins or even the goblin King himself could’ve found it. Or Azog. Bolg. But it was you and you alone. And that alone gives me comfort.”
“But at the expense of Frodo’s life? Of—of yours?” Bilbo trailed off looking at me briefly before turning away.  I tilted my head at him and walked over to him and knelt down in front of him.
“What do you mean at the expense of my life Bilbo?” the glimmer of tears in his eyes as he tried to not look me in the eye.  
“I must ask this of you Hela and please don’t try to lie to make an old Hobbit feel good. But I must know—when……when we left you behind at Laketown, the reason why you got so sick. Was it my fault? Did me having the Dark Lord’s ring make you that ill?”
“Oh Bilbo……have you held onto that thought ever since that day?”
“At first I thought nothing of it. But when Gandalf and Balin last visited me, and Gandalf told us the reason for your sickness, I….I began to ponder on just how it was possible. When I came here and was told of my ring being the One Ring it all became clear to me.” A tear slid down his face. I wiped it away.
“Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins look at me.” His lip trembled and like before throughout the quest, his nose made that adorable little twitch before he finally worked the courage to look me in the eye.  “What happened back in Mirkwood was something else entirely. It was Sauron himself that tried to possess my body, not because of the Ring. I want you to understand what happened to me that day was not your fault, nor is it your fault that Frodo got hurt. The Ring—has a will of its own and it will do anything to get back to its Master.”
I cupped the side of Bilbo’s face as I gingerly stroked his cheek with my thumb.
“As I said, I’m grateful that it was not a race of evil that found the Ring all those years ago. And for so long you fought against it’s evil. Never before have I seen that happen.”
“But my actions before I left…..”
“Manipulation caused by the Ring. It took it’s time to try and corrupt your heart. But even then you’ve been resisting it, up until that night. But I hold no grudge nor resentment for what you said. You needed help before it was too late, and you passed the test. A test that no one could ever pass before.” I said as I continued to stroke his cheek.  He came closer to me and embraced me as tightly as his old strength could muster.
“You truly have grown wiser in your years Hela.”
“I had a great teacher to help me realize that there is always Hope in every dark cloud.” I thought back to Cain and his teachings. I hugged my dear little friend back and kissed the top of his head as I gently rocked him back and forth.
After awhile we went back to the bench where he book sat and I asked him.
“Do you think now is a good time for me to finally read the illustrious book you’ve been so hellbent on writing?” I asked him.
“As sticky and nosy as Frodo is at times.” He chastised me playfully.  “But—yes. In fact you’ll be the first to read it.” He handed me the red-leather bound book and I opened it up and read out loud.
“‘There and Back Again: A Hobbit’s tale by Bilbo Baggins.’” I opened it up and began to read through the entire book.  The words of our quest to Erebor and its history ran through my mind like a moving picture, the pictures and maps he drew pulled me into the world.  “Oh Bilbo this is beautiful.”
“I meant to go back you know. Wander the palace of Mirkwood, visit Laketown. See the Lonely Mountain again. But age it seems has finally caught up with me.” He said with a slight groan at the end.
“Oh you’d love it Bilbo. Laketown especially. Bain and Sigrid saw to it themselves that it was returned to its former glory in the golden days so long ago. And it was Sigrid and her husband that formed a new type of Government so that there would never again be a greedy Master. I believe they call it—a democracy. Where the people decide who is fit to run the city. And they do annual elections every five years.”
“Incredible. And what of Erebor. Have you ever returned to the Lonely Mountain since you left it?”
“A few times after my 20 year training and healing with my teacher. I would mostly go there during Durin’s Day, got to see our old friends of the Company. Wish I’d visited more but—the duty of a Celestial and all.”
“I do hope that one day when all of this is over, you’ll finally be happy. Perhaps settle down with a man. You never did say if you had a special someone to go back to.” I turned away and rubbed my naked left wrist.
Nope, still not there Hela. Remember you gave it back to him. But there’s not a day I don’t regret doing so.
“It uhh—it didn’t work out between us.”
“Didn’t work out, or not the proper time?” I looked at the cheeky little Hobbit.
“Whose getting nosy now Master Baggins?” I teased him with a nudge and leaned my forehead on top of his.  He softly chuckled and said.
“I may be old but I’ve seen a great deal of love stories in the Shire. And there’s more to your love story than what you’re admitting. But I will not press you for the details. But if you do ever come across this fellow of yours again, talk to him. Tell him the real reason why it couldn’t work out rather than the excuse you probably gave to him. And if he takes you back, you’ll know your love is true.”
“And if I do tell him the truth, if he does not accept me back? Or cannot afford to love me again? What would you have me do then?”
“Then he’d be a fool of a man to not accept you back. My years of knowing you, you have been nothing but kind, brave, loyal, and always had a reason for doing the things you did. I’ve grown fond of you Hela and I’d hate to see you go through life without finding the love you said you once shared with this special someone.” I cupped Bilbo’s face in my hand and whispered to him.
“Thank you for the kind words Bilbo. I wish you could’ve found that special someone to share in your adventures.”
“I knew I was never a Hobbit to find love. I fell in love with the adventure I had. With the Company, Gandalf, and you.” We smiled at one another and I continued to read through his book until the sun began to set and the moon rose over Rivendell.
The next day on the 23rd of October, Gandalf soon arrived to Imladris.  But when I saw him, his face was stained with dirt and blood (much like when he arrived to Dale) and a look of fear was upon his face.
“Gandalf!” I called out to him.  I raced down the steps and he turned to me as we both embraced one another.  “What’s happened to you? Did orcs capture you again? Or Sauron?”
“I will explain everything later Hela, where is Frodo?”
“He—he was injured Gandalf. Stabbed by the Witch-king Angmar himself.” A look of shock and despair came across his face as he stepped back from me.
“A Morgul blade.” He replied grimly.
“But he’s alright. I brought him here and Lord Elrond and I saw to it that he would be spared from the Darkness. He’s on the mend now.” He sighed with relief.
“The speed of the Sound Celestials is a blessing from above. Thank you Hela.” He said patting my shoulder.  “But now I must speak with you and Lord Elrond. There is even grimmer news that must be shared with you.”
“Last I saw Lord Elrond he was in his studies with his two sons.”
“Great follow me. This news cannot be delayed any longer.” He said ominously as we headed towards the studies.
When we arrived, just as I said Lord Elrond was speaking with his twin sons Elladan and Elrohir.
“Mithrandir!” the boys chorused together.
“Elladan, Elrohir.” Gandalf bowed in respect as the boys greeted him back.  “Lord Elrond. I must call a secret White Council meeting.” Elrond’s brow slightly furrowed as he said to his sons.
“Leave us my sons. The Lady Celestial, Mithrandir and I must talk in private.”
“Yes father.” The boys said before leaving us alone.
“Gandalf, to suddenly call a White Council meeting this late is most irregular.”
“It must just be between us three. For you two are unaware of the treachery that now lies in Middle Earth.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Saruman the White has joined forced with the Dark Lord Sauron.” Lord Elrond and I both looked at Gandalf in horror and shock.
No. This—this cannot be.  A Wizard turned to evil? Wh-why would Saruman agree to join forced with Sauron? What would he have to gain in siding with him?  He was already the greatest of the Istari, one of the head seats of the White Council, and took base at Isengard.  What more could Saruman want?
“Gandalf, are you absolutely sure?” Lord Elrond asked him firmly.
“He told me so himself.” Elrond walked a short foot away from Gandalf and myself pondering this ill news.
“All these years and he could’ve been spilling secrets of us, of our plans to move against Sauron when he revealed himself 77 years ago.” I spoke my worries.  “Saruman would know it all. What would he have to gain in return by siding with that monster?”
“Not for power or greed, he feared that the Dark Lord’s strength is too great even for us. And in order to be spared from it, we have no choice but to follow him.” Gandalf said to me.  I walked over to him and placed my hand over his bleeding temple and healed it up, he patted my wrist and gave me a warm smile.  “We’ll discuss this matter later, for now I wish to see Frodo.”
“Gandalf.” Lord Elrond tried to speak up.
“I allowed Frodo to carry this burden, I must see to him when he awakes. Hela, come with me.” As Gandalf walked away, Elrond and I looked at each other.
“When Frodo awakes, I’ll send him straight to you.”
“Hela.” He reprimanded me.  “If it is true of Saruman’s betrayal, this issue cannot wait. With the Ring here, Sauron’s eye will soon be fixed on Rivendell.”
“I know. I’m sorry Lord Elrond, but Gandalf needs to know Frodo will awake. You know how much of a kind heart he has, especially towards the Hobbits.”
“Like another person I know.” He said eyeing me.  I gave him a slight smile.
“I promise, as soon as Frodo is awake and on his feet, we’ll discuss this matter further on.” I left the study and headed towards the healing wings where Gandalf was just about to start smoking his pipe and once again right at his bedside was Samwise Gamgee.  “Have you at least gotten something to eat Sam?” I asked him.
“I had me some eggs and potatoes.” He said bluntly before turning his attention back to Frodo.  But at that moment we heard his stomach growl.
“A meal such as that wouldn’t cause your stomach to growl like a starving wolf.” I reprimanded him softly.
“Ever since leaving Bree my food schedule’s been all jumbled up. My stomach is still on my old feeding schedule.” I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my brow at him.  “Alright so I haven’t ate anything since this morning. But how can I eat when Mr. Frodo hasn’t awaken yet?”
“We understand your worry for Frodo, Sam. But the wound he took is more than getting a splinter or falling from a tree. The weapon was of pure evil and darkness.” Gandalf said to him.
“That’s what Strider said, and that only Elvish medicine could help him. Never have I felt or seen Frodo in that shape or manner before.” I walked over to Sam and placed my hands onto his shoulders.
“He’s strong. Much like Bilbo. But take comfort that he was able to be spared from the poison running through his veins.”
“Wouldn’t have happened without you Miss Hela.” He said looking up at me.
“I love Frodo as much as you, Merry and Pippin do. Seeing him like that—I knew I couldn’t stay in the form I was in.”
“The form you were—the hawk. That was you wasn’t it?” I nodded.  “But why were you—”
“A good question for another time. For now, it would be best for you to actually find you something to eat. It is almost luncheon time for you Hobbits anyways. Hela and I will keep watch over Frodo until you return.”
“Yes Mr. Gandalf. And….you’ll send word if he wakes, right?”
“Of course Sam dear. Go, run along now.” I gently nudged him and he walked out of the room, keeping his eye on Frodo until the last second. I softly chuckled and shook my head. “The loyalty he has over our dear Frodo.”
“Indeed. Even at a young age wherever Frodo went, Sam was right there at his side.” I sat down where Sam was just at and stroked Frodo’s dark curls.
“We’re all waiting for you Frodo. We’re all right here.” I whispered to his very soul that was still in the veil of the inbetween.
The next day at 10 o’clock Gandalf and I were right by Frodo’s bedside once more (ever since the sun rose) and finally the miracle we’ve all been waiting for.
“Where am I?” Frodo quietly moaned out after briefly tossing and turning his head.
“You are in the house of Elrond. And it is 10 o’clock in the morning, on October the 24th if you want to know.” Gandalf said. Frodo opened his eyes and said both our names.
“Gandalf. Hela.”
“Yes Frodo dear, we’re here.” I said with a soft smile and stroked his cheek softly.
“And you’re lucky to be here too. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid. But you have some strength in you, my dear Hobbit.” Gandalf said as he smoked his pipe.  Frodo sat up but his face grimaced at the wound on his shoulder.
Unfortunately a wound such as that will never fully heal. I’m told that long ago shortly before I was born, one of my sisters on Thena’s side suffered a wound just like Frodo and though she was able to be spared, she never fully recovered.  And for that she could only find solace in the shores of Valinor, so she sailed West to the Undying Lands to be with the Elves, one of the first few Celestials ever welcomed to their shores.
I tried to help Frodo feel as comfortable as possible and he gave me a slight nod before turning to Gandalf and asked.
“What happened Gandalf? Why didn’t you meet us?”
“Oh I am sorry Frodo.” Gandalf said solemnly.  “I was delayed. A friendship with Saruman is not lightly thrown aside.” Frodo turned towards me and I gave him a solemn look.  He turned back to Gandalf who seemed to be lost in his thoughts about Saruman’s betrayal.
Sure it came as a shock to both Elrond and I but I cannot imagine what is going through Gandalf’s mind.  After all the Istari were formed together by strength and magic together. To take a vow amongst themselves to protect and preserve goodness and peace (much like my kin).  And to be betrayed by one of their own—I can only imagine the heartbreak, and sorrow that is in Gandalf’s heart right now.
“Gandalf? What is it?” Gandalf came out of his thoughts and assured Frodo.
“Nothing Frodo.” All was quiet until a voice spoke up from the door.
“Frodo.” The sound of feet running toward us and soon joining me was Sam.  “Frodo!” he exclaimed.
“Sam.” Frodo said happily.
“Bless you you’re awake!” Sam exclaimed joyously.
“Sam here has hardly left your side.” I said wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders.
“We were that worried about you, weren’t we Mr. Gandalf? Miss Hela?”
“Indeed we were.” I said.
“By the skill of both Hela and Lord Elrond, you’re beginning to mend.” Gandalf said.  And it was at that moment, the Lord of Rivendell came forth and bid a warm welcome to Frodo.
“Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins.”
“Thank you, my lord Elrond.” Frodo thanked him with a bow of his head.
“If I may ask everyone to clear the room for a moment, I’d like to have a moment alone with Mr. Baggins to check his wound.” Sam was about to protest but I gave him a gentle squeeze of his shoulder.
“We’ll leave you to it my Lord Elrond.” I guided Sam away and Gandalf followed behind us.
“Is he going to be alright?” Sam asked me.
“Lord Elrond is one of the most skilled healers I’ve ever known. Taught not only by the elven lord Gil-Galad but also from the Celestial Prime herself. Frodo is in the best of care Sam, trust me.”
“I do Miss Hela. I just…..” he sighed deeply.
“I know Sam, I know.” I assured him with a hug.
As the day went on, Frodo was back on his feet and was reunited with Merry, Pippin and also with Bilbo so I had been told by Cain. Elrond, Gandalf and I were watching over Frodo and Sam from the hallway near the library.
“His strength returns.” Elrond said.
“That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life.” Gandalf said.
“And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil.” Elrond said as he walked away from us.
“It is a burden he should never have had to bear. Neither one of them.” I said.  “We can ask no more of Frodo.” I softly pleaded with Elrond.
“Hela, the enemy is moving. Sauron’s forces are massing in the East. His Eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman you say Gandalf has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin.” Elrond lectured me.
“His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin-men he’s breeding an army at the caverns of Isengard.” Gandalf explained to us.  My eyes widened as Gandalf continued to explain, “An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring. And unfortunately for you as well Hela.”
“I knew this day would come.” I sighed grimly.
“This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight off both Mordor and Isengard!” Elrond softly hissed.  As Gandalf turned his back to us Elrond continued, “Gandalf, the Ring cannot stay here.”
“So what is to be done?” I asked.
“This peril belongs to all Middle-earth. They must decide now how to end it.” Elrond said to me.  “The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we’ve gone? The Dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches, they care nothing for the troubles of others.”
“And though I have grown stronger and wiser I am still only one Celestial. I alone cannot be the one to govern Middle-Earth, I’m just it’s protector and guide.” I explained.
“I know Hela, and I wouldn’t dare ask such a burden onto you. You’ve done far too much, even more than what we deserve.” Gandalf said placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.  He then turned to Lord Elrond and said, “It is in Men that we must place our hope in.”
“Men?” Lord Elrond asked incredulously.  “Men are weak. The race of Men is failing.” Gandalf and I followed behind Elrond as we entered the library as he continued, “The blood of Númenor is all but spent, it’s pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives. I was there, Gandalf and Hela. I was there 3000 years ago…. When Isildur took the Ring, I was there the day the strength of Men failed. I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom…where the Ring was forged, the one place it could be destroyed.”
But as I know the hearts of Men are easily corrupted. Shortly after Isildur kept the Ring, I tried to reason with him but he would not listen and nearly had me killed (he had thought I wanted the Ring for myself when I wanted no part of such evil).
“It should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure.” Elrond turned to us and continued, “Isildur kept the Ring. The line of Kings is broken. There’s no strength left in the world of Men. They’re scattered, divided, leaderless.”
“There is one who could unite them.” Gandalf said.  “One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor.” At his response Elrond’s face grew grim as he merely responded.
“He turned from the path a long time ago. He has chosen exile.”
“He may have chosen exile, but the time will come when he’ll have to lay claim to his birthright.” I said.
“You believe that Hela?” Elrond asked me.
“It came to an old friend of mine a long time ago, and now his descendants will continue to rule over Dale. Whether he wants it or not, Aragorn shall become King, when this is all over.”
“I’ve seen how you have put your faith into the World of Men more so than any race of Middle Earth Hela. For your sake, I hope you are right.”
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legends-of-time · 4 months
Text
Thorn Bush (Doctor Who Story)
Chapter 38: Daleks in Manhattan
Masterlist
1930
Kathy, now one thousand four hundred, approaches Central Park in New York. She feels sombre as she looks out at the sight in front of her.
There are hundreds of tiny houses scattered about or rather shacks made out of whatever a person could find and place together to make a shelter to sleep in. Some are made out of tin scrap while others are nothing more than sticks and cloth strung together. There is a haze of smoke around the area as many have fires going either to help keep the chill of early autumn away or to cook a meal to eat. Hundreds of people milling around the fires or shacks, all wearing tattered clothing that appears to be something they have worn for days on end. Kathy glares up at the Manhattan skyscrapers that loom up above.
"Mrs Davis!" The children cry as they run over. She receives a few gapped tooth smiles.
Kathy beams at the group of children in front of her.
There's Marvin, the oldest of the group at the ripe age of eleven, with a very lanky body, mousy-brown hair that is slick to the side, a small cap on his head, and a dirty boy's suit jacket over his white button up shirt. Next to him is Philip. He is about as tall as Marvin but is younger by a year. He has on a pair of wired round glasses which had tape in the centre from being broken, a large cap on his head with his blonde hair tucked neatly into it and a dirty grey button-up shirt with braces over his shoulders keeping up his brown trousers. Then Charlie, the youngest of the group. He is only six, but rather scrappy in personality. He wears a cap that barely stays above his eyes, his brown hair is about the same always hanging around his eyes, and also a grey buttoned shirt that is always tucked in crookedly into his trousers. And lastly, there's little Alice, small in size at eight years old. Her dark brown curly hair is tucked into the large cap that balances on her head. She wears a brown buttoned shirt, braces over her shoulders and black trousers with matching boots along with a large navy-blue boys jacket that Kathy had gifted her to keep her warm.
They remind her of the Thin Ice crew she met and looked after over a century ago. She feels sad thinking about it.
"Hello! And I told you to call me Kathy!" She admonishes.
"No can do, Mrs Davis." Solomon rebuffs as he approaches them, sporting a warm smile. "We might have lost everything, but we still have manners."
Kathy smiles at him softly. "Of course."
"What do you have this time, Mrs Davis?" Marvin asks eagerly.
"Well, I thought you might enjoy some sandwiches, some of those 'band aids' you to enjoy, Alice," the little girl beams, "and The Story of Dr Dolittle!"
The children cheer and Solomon thanks her.
Kathy waves him off. "It's common decency. Everyone should be helping out."
"Hmm." Solomon glances over at the not-fully-completed Empire State Building. "You tell them that."
They're interrupted by some yelling.
"Another fight." Solomon sighs. "I gotta take care of that." He quickly leaves.
A tug on her arm causes her to look down to see Charlie and Alice gazing up at her, wide-eyed. Marvin and Philip have moved on, sharing out the food Kathy had brought.
"Can you read us a book, Mrs Davis?" Charlie asks.
Kathy's heart practically melts. It's strange to think Carlyle was this small and her lost grandchildren too. Her eyes water as she thinks of them.
She lets out a shuddery breath. "Of course!"
——
She's sitting down, reading to the children when she hears two familiar voices.
"I suppose that makes you the boss around here."
Kathy looks up to see the Tenth Doctor plus Martha gathered around the fire by Solomon's tent, talking to said man. Ah, she thought she had felt the familiar faint snap of the mental link she shares with the Doctor.
"And, er, who might you be?" Solomon questions.
"He's the Doctor. I'm Martha." The companion answers.
"I'm just going to say hi to some new people." Kathy tells the two children, stroking their hair. "I'll be back soon."
"You'll finish the book?" Alice asks.
Kathy sighs. "Maybe this chapter but then I've got to go." She knows things are going to kick off now the Doctor and Martha are here.
"But tell me. Doctor, you're a man of learning, right? Explain this to me." Solomon is saying, walking towards the opening in the trees where the Empire State Building can be seen clearly. "That there's going to be the tallest building in the world. How come they can do that, when we got people starving in the heart of Manhattan?"
"I wonder that every day." Kathy remarks. The Doctor and Martha turn around.
"Kathy!" The Time Lord grins.
Kathy grins back. "Hi Doctor," she turns to the companion, "Martha."
"Kathy... hi." Martha wraps her in a tight hug. Kathy blinks in surprise before returning it. She considers her and Martha good friends but not this close though she hopes that'll be the case. What happened? She can't think of anything significant. She had last seen the two with Shakespeare and then the Doctor is meant to have taken Martha to New New York before they come here, all under the pretence of just one trip as a thank you. Other than Jack sadly dying, which Martha didn't know it was him nor had she met younger Jack, so what?
Before Kathy can question, Martha pulls back and looks around them, frowning. "Do you live here?"
"No, Mrs Davis here comes by now and again, giving us some supplies. Food, medicine..." Solomon explains.
"Books too, which reminds me..." Kathy turns to see Alice and Charlie watching intently, "I've got a chapter to finish, just wanted to say high."
"Of course." The Doctor says, giving Martha a pointed look. Odd.
——
"We've got to tell her." Kathy hears Martha say as she goes back over to them. She slows down slightly.
Charlie and Alive had grumbled about not getting any more of the story but Kathy had told them that they could try doing some of the reading on their own and tell Kathy all about it when she next comes with supplies.
"We can't. I've told how the timelines work." The Doctor retorts.
"You said, but—" Martha pauses when she spits Kathy causing the Doctor to do the same.
Kathy plasters a smile on her face. "Tell who what?"
Martha opens her mouth but the Doctor interrupts, "Nothing!"
Kathy frowns at them suspiciously then shakes it off. If it's important, she'll find out. "So, Hooverville mystery pull you in?" Might as well keep them on track.
Martha glances at the Doctor, irritated, before flashing Kathy a brief smile. "Yeah, know anything about that?"
"Come with me." They approach Solomon again next to his tent. "Solomon, these two are wondering about the missing people."
"Is it true?" The Doctor asks.
Solomon sighs. "It's true all right." He gestures for them to follow him into his tent.
"But what does missing mean?" The Doctor questions as they follow. "Men must come and go here all the time. It's not like anyone's keeping a register."
"This is different." Solomon looks at the paper the Doctor had been holding.
"In what way?" Martha asks.
"Someone takes them, at night. We hear something, someone calls out for help. By the time we get there, they're gone like they vanished into thin air."
"And you're sure someone's taking them?" The Doctor asks.
"Doctor, when you got next to nothing, you hold on to the little you got. Your knife, blanket, you take it with you. You don't leave bread uneaten, fire still burning." Solomon counters.
"Have you been to the police?" Martha asks.
Kathy scoffs but not unkindly. "Trust me, we've all had a go, but they don't care. To them these lot are just deadbeat. Who cares if some of them go missing?"
"So, the question is, who's taking them and what for?" The Doctor wonders.
"Solomon!" Comes Frank's cry before the lad pokes his head through the tent. "Solomon, Mr Diagoras is here."
——
Mr Diagoras stands in the centre of Hooverville, gathering workers again, volunteers to go down into the sewers. Many scoff at him for the dollar-a-day pay, seeing the dangerous job as not worth it for the small pay.
"Any hints?" Kathy hears the Doctor ask.
"Be a volunteer."
"You don't need the work?" Diagoras retorts. "That's fine. Anybody else?" The Doctor raises his hand with Kathy following quickly. "Enough with the questions."
"Oh, no, no, no." The Doctor quickly replies. "We're volunteering. We'll go."
Martha raises her hand. "I'll kill you for this."
"Anybody else?"
Frank and Solomon join them.
——
"Turn left. Go about a half a mile." Diagoras instructs them once they have reached the sewers. They all gather around with torches in hand within the dark, damp, and filthy tunnels which run throughout the underground of the city above. Diagoras points down the direction they are meant to 'fix' the tunnels. "Follow tunnel 273. The fall's right ahead of you, you can't miss it."
"And when do we get our dollar?" Frank asks the man.
Diagoras gives the young man a cold stare. "When you come back up." He answers.
"And if we don't come back up?" The Doctor questions, giving the man an even and strict gaze.
Diagoras returns the stare, looking rather smug as well. "Then I got no one to pay."
"Don't worry, we'll be back." Solomon declares.
"Let's hope so." Martha murmurs as they begin moving off.
The Doctor and Kathy stare into Diagoras' eyes for a few moments, suspicious, as the others start down the tunnels. Gradually, both turn and follow after their group as they hear the man behind them retreat up the ladder to the city above.
Kathy walks silently with the group as Martha and Frank chat, the latter talking about how he arrived in Hooverville while the Doctor gathers more information about Diagoras. Her mind races, thinking over what she can and cannot change. She knows there is little she can change what is to occur this day. She hopes, however, that while she will be unable to save some lives, at least not all will be lost, and she might save some.
"Whoa!" The Doctor suddenly exclaims.
Kathy rushes forward to see, just as she expected, a luminous green jellyfish lying on the ground in front of them on the wet brick ground of the tunnels. The Doctor points his torch at it, crouching down to examine the strange object closely. Martha and Kathy come around to kneel next to him.
"Is it radioactive or something?" Martha asks curiously.
The Doctor sets his torch down. Placing on his glasses, he picks up the strange anomaly. It loses its green glow the moment it is pulled from the ground, going clear in colour. The Doctor ignores Martha's grumbles and Kathy's grimace and gives it a quick sniff.
"Shine your torch through it." He urges and Martha does so. "Composite organic matter. Martha? Medical opinion?"
"It's not human. I know that." Martha says, looking like she's about to gag.
"Nope. Defiantly not human." Kathy nods in agreement.
The Doctor nods. He frowns some in thought, standing up from his crouch. "And I'll tell you something else. We must be at least half a mile in." He notes. He takes off his glasses and glances around some. "I don't see any signs of a collapse. Do you? So why did Mr. Diagoras send us down here?"
"For something other than a collapse." Kathy tells them, shining her torch down the tunnels. "For something far more dangerous as well." She stands up slowly with Martha following the action.
"What do you mean?" The companion asks her.
"We'll see soon enough." Kathy mumbles. She starts forward, ready to keep them moving. They need to catch up with the time if events are going to play out right.
——
"We're way beyond half a mile," Solomon speaks up after some time as they continue walking. He leads the group currently. He points his torch around. "There's no collapse, nothing."
"That Disgoras bloke, was he lying?" Martha wonders aloud.
"Yep. Lying through his teeth and has been for some time now." Kathy responds, shining her torch down the tunnel and waiting to spot a certain creature.
"So, why'd he want people to come down here?" Frank questions.
"Solomon, I think it's time you took these three back. I'll be much quicker on my own." The Doctor instructs.
Kathy scoffs loudly. "As if." She retorts. She points her torch at him, frowning sternly. "We're not going anywhere, and you're an idiot thinking we'd ever leave you behind on your own."
There is a sudden loud squeal that echoes through the tunnels. All jump, startled by the noise. They gaze around the tunnels rapidly, searching for the source of the sound.
"What the hell was that?" Solomon asks.
Kathy turns her torch down a certain tunnel, slowly walking forward.
"Hello?!" Frank yells, trailing after Kathy. The other three hiss at him to be quiet. "What if it's one of the folk gone missing? You'd be scared and half mad down here on your own."
"Do you think they're still alive?" The Doctor asks.
"Heck, we ain't seen no bodies down here. Maybe they just got lost."
It is then Kathy finds the right direction and her torch lands on a huddled figure up ahead.
"Doctor." Kathy calls calmly, getting the Time Lord's attention. He walks down some to her, seeing the figure. The others point their torches down the tunnel, staring curiously.
"Who are you?" Solomon asks loudly, trying to get the figure to look up to them.
"Are you lost?" Frank asks kindly. The figure merely grunts some in response. Frank shifts on his feet, trying to move forward around Solomon. "Can you understand me? I've been thinkin' about folk lost down here." The Doctor holds out his hand, keeping Frank from moving any closer. Kathy, however, moves forward calmly.
"Kathy, just stay back." The Doctor orders.
"It's fine, Doctor. He isn't going to harm us." Kathy says.
The Doctor shifts forward, moving with her. They point their torch to the creature's face, and the Doctor sees it is no person. Or at least, not anymore. It is a pig creature of sorts. The body of a human, but the face of a pig. Its eyes are human and show deep sorrow and misery clouding them. It shifts some, looking nervous and frightened by their presence. The poor person that had once been had been turned into a pig slave for the Daleks. But even though their features changed, Kathy knows it still holds the person within.
"Hey, it's all right. We're not going to hurt you." Kathy says kindly, crouching down and holding the creature's hand softly.
The Doctor observed the creature closely. "Oh, but what are you?" He asks quietly as he crouches down as well.
"Is that, uh... some kind of carnival mask?" Solomon questions from behind them.
"No, it's real." The Doctor responds. He stares sadly at the creature. "I'm sorry. But listen. I promise we can help."
Kathy glances over, seeing the other pig slaves heading towards them. "Doctor, time to go." She breathes quickly. She gives the sad pig slave one last kind squeeze on its hand before standing up, dragging up the Doctor with her.
He stares down with her, seeing the army of aggressive pig slaves shuffling towards them. They both back up slowly to their group.
"Right, then." The Doctor says, keeping his torch aimed at the pig creatures. "Kathy, Martha, Frank, Solomon."
"What?" Martha asks in fright. The group back up as the pigs grew closer, staring threateningly at them.
"I think, um... basically... run!" The Doctor shouts, rushing them all back down the tunnels.
They run as fast as they can. The pigs squeal angrily behind them as they charge after. Kathy doesn't need to glance to know that they are close on their tails.
"Where are we going?!" Martha shouts in alarm when they hit a junction of tunnels.
"This way!" The Doctor tells them, rushing around the group to lead the way down a main tunnel.
They sprint fast, hearing the pigs close in behind them. Kathy halts the Doctor at one point, making them rush down another tunnel to where she knows the ladder will be.
"Over here! Ladder!" She yells. She whips out her sonic, the red light glowing in the tunnels. She climbs the ladder and aims the sonic at the manhole above. Getting it to open, she climbs up in a rush. She jumps out of the way immediately, making room for the rest.
The Doctor comes up. Followed closely by Martha. Then lastly Solomon. Frank is the remaining one. He tries climbing up quickly, but the pigs grab him. It is a brief struggle between the pigs, and Solomon and the Doctor pulling on Frank. But in the end, the pigs manage to capture Frank and drag him off.
Solomon pushes the Doctor away as the pigmen start to climb the ladder, slamming the lid shut. "We can't go after him." He states regretfully.
The Doctor slams his hands on the lid of the manhole. "I've got to go back down! We can't just leave him!" He shouts angrily.
Solomon pulls him back from the manhole. "No! I'm not losing anyone else!" He yells firmly. "Those creatures were from hell, from hell itself. If we go after him, they'll take us all." He pants some, looking grave and sorrowful. "There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry."
"Doctor, it's fine. We'll get Frank back later. I promise." Kathy assures him.
The Doctor stares at her quickly. "Are you sure?" He asks sceptically.
"Positive." She nods curtly.
Kathy hears shuffling feet just behind her. She turns around and sees Tallulah stepping out from behind a rack, pointing a revolver at them.
"All right, then, put 'em up." Tallulah orders threateningly. Everyone puts up their hands quickly. Only Kathy keeps hers down, smiling at her. Tallulah cocks the gun hurriedly, pointing it firmly at Kathy. "Hands in the air, and no funny business."
"Oh, no, wouldn't dream of giving you funny business." Kathy says lightly. She rocks on her feet, smiling away and keeping her hands down. "But, um, next time, find a better prop. You can see the chipped paint on the side. Just there." She points to a white patch on the 'revolver'.
Tallulah turns the prop to the side, seeing the white spot. She huffs, tossing the toy gun aside. "Fine, it's a prop." She states. She points harshly at them. "But I want to know what you schmucks have done with Laszlo?"
"Who's Laszlo?" Martha asks after her and the others put their hands down.
Tallulah blinks in surprise, looking around at them. "You don't know who Laszlo is?" She asks carefully. They all shake their heads. She sighs heavily, looking disappointed. "All right, fine. Follow me. I'll tell you." She turns and leads them out of the prop room.
——
She takes them to her dressing room. She sits down at her mirror dresser, staring sadly at her reflection.
"Laszlo's my boyfriend," Tallulah begins to explain before pausing for a second, thinking her words over, "was my boyfriend. Until he disappeared, two weeks ago, no letter, no goodbye, no nothing. And I'm not stupid. I know some guys are just pigs, but not my Laszlo. I mean, what kind of guy asks you to meet his mom before he vamooses?"
"What do you think happened to Lazlo?" Martha questions.
Tallulah huffs. "I wish I knew. One minute he's there, the next, zip. Vanished."
"Listen, ah, what's your name?" The Doctor asks.
"Tallulah."
"Tallulah—"
"Three Ls and an H." Tallulah cuts in.
"Right." The Doctor mutters, trying to get back on track. "We can try to find Laszlo, but he's not the only one. There are people disappearing every night."
"And there are creatures. Such creatures." Solomon adds.
"What do you mean, creatures?"
"Look, listen, just trust me. Everyone is in danger. I need to find out exactly what this is." He brings out the jellyfish thing from his pocket. "Because then I'll know exactly what we're fighting.
Tallulah grimaces at the sight of it. "Yuck."
Same Tallulah, same.
——
The Doctor and Kathy go to the back room; ready to begin to work on whatever device the Doctor needs building. Solomon follows along, but he remains lingering by the doorway. The man still seems haunted by what had occurred down below. Still upset that he had lost Frank. Martha stays behind with Tallulah, helping the New York girl prepare for another show that night.
Kathy starts gathering up different parts that she knows the Doctor needs. She wishes she could just tell him what exactly the blob creature's true identity is. But something tells her things will not go well if she speeds up the day's events. So, Kathy simply helps as much as she can.
"I forgot to ask, where have you've been to lately?" The Doctor asks as he examines a few parts. He gives her a curious glance. "Anywhere in particular?"
"Spoilers." Kathy remarks. "What about you? New New York, right?"
The Doctor pauses, flashing her a strained smile. "Yeah."
Odd...
He must be upset over the Face of Boe even though he didn't know it was Jack. Kathy winces at that, the thought of losing Jack. Not looking forward to it that.
"So... you need anything else?"
"Uh, no, no, I'm fine." The Doctor answers quickly, not looking at her.
Right...
Kathy moves to leave the room, giving a small smile to Solomon as she passes. She goes looking for Martha and Tallulah. Seeing all the hubbub and the scurrying around in red sparkling flapper outfits tells Kathy that the show's nearly starting.
"Hey, Kathy. Aren't you supposed to be helping the Doctor?" Martha asks, walking over to her.
"He had it covered. I came to hang out with you some." Kathy explains. Also, he was acting odd. "Besides, I wanted to see the show."
"Oh, you're gonna love it," Tallulah says brightly, skipping out of her dressing room, wearing her own outfit. More flapper angel than the devil costumes the other women are wearing. She grabs both Kathy and Martha's hands, leading them to the stage. She leaves them in the wings off the stage as she joins the others waiting in excitement for their cue to start the show.
Martha shifts on her feet awkwardly causing Kathy to glance at her. "Martha?"
"Kathy... I, um, can I ask you something?"
Kathy nods encouragingly. "Of course."
"I-if someone knew what was going to, erm, happen to you, would you want to know?" Martha questions.
Kathy sighs. "Martha, I'm guessing this is what you and the Doctor was talking about before and it's about me..."
"Maybe." Martha looks down.
"Look," Kathy puts a gentle hand on the companion's upper arm, "me and the Doctor don't always meet in the same order as you know. There's things about him I don't tell and there's things about me he knows but doesn't tell."
Martha frowns. "Doesn't that drive you mad? Wouldn't you want to know?"
Kathy contemplates for a moment, shrugging. "Sometimes but then if it was something terrible, would you really want to know? I don't because how can I enjoy myself with everyone I meet and the time I have when I'm thinking about how it's all going to fall apart or end or God knows what, you know?"
"Or the space time continuum is going to explode as the Doctor says." Martha rolls her eyes.
Kathy laughs. "Or that."
The music starts so Kathy and Martha turn to watch the performance. Nothing happens until suddenly Martha steps out, trying to sneak across the stage by hiding behind the dancing performers.
Kathy looks at her in bewilderment. "Martha?" She calls out to the girl.
Martha does not hear her over the loud music and the complaining performers when she steps on their costume's tails. She even manages to knock one woman over. Tallulah confronts her, demanding what she is doing on stage and ruining the performance. To which Martha then points towards the opposite wing and the women on stage scream with fright. That's when Kathy sees poor Laszlo. Only halfway formed into a pig. He had managed to fight off the Daleks and escape the full transformation. She had forgotten that he would make an appearance to watch the show.
Laszlo takes off with Martha giving chase. Kathy's eyes widen in shock. She tries to go after the girl, but Tallulah holds her back.
"What is that thing?!" Tallulah cries out in alarm. "Is that one of the creatures you guys were talkin' about?"
"Yes, but it's gone. It isn't going to hurt you." Kathy tells her, trying to calm the woman down. She has to go after Martha to make sure the girl is all right.
Kathy rushes off the stage. Tallulah follows since the show is ruined and has to be put on hold.
——
They all crowd around the backstage area. Kathy looks around, trying to remember where Martha and Laszlo had run off to.
The Doctor comes up to them quickly, looking panicked. "Kathy, where's Martha?" He asks in a rush.
"She took off when she spotted Laszlo." Kathy tells him.
"Wait, Laszlo? Laszlo was here?" Tallulah questions them.
They all turn their head down the hall when they hear Martha's terrified screams. The three of them run down the hall, rushing to save the girl.
They arrive back in the manhole area. The sewer grate is open, not having been put back properly. The Doctor quickly grabs his coat and throws it on. Kathy is already climbing down the ladder in a rush, ready to save their companion. The Doctor follows after her with Tallulah right behind.
"No, no, no, no, no way. You're not coming." The Doctor tells her.
"Tell me what's going on. What did she mean by Laszlo?" Tallulah demands from him, pulling a fur black coat around herself as she gazes at the tunnels around them.
"There's nothing you can do. Go back." The Doctor orders her, remaining firm.
"Let her come along, Doctor." Kathy says, trying to get them to hurry along. There is no time for them to sit around and argue.
"I'm not letting one else get hurt or taken." The Doctor responds sternly.
"It's her boyfriend on the line." Kathy replies. Plus, if everything goes right, Tallulah will be fine. She pulls out a torch, handing it to Tallulah. "She's coming along. End of discussion. Come on, Tallulah. Let's go get your Laszlo."
Tallulah grins and they begin to make their way through the tunnels, the Doctor grumbles behind them.
——
They travel through the tunnels quickly, trying to reach their destination in time. Tallulah had to skip every few steps to keep up with the two. It is hard for her to way through the sewers in heels.
"When you say, 'they've taken her,' who's 'they,' exactly?" Tallulah asks them after some distance. "And who are you two, anyway? I never asked."
The Doctor and Kathy shush her quickly when they see a shadow coming down towards them. A familiar shadow of a Dalek cast on the wall.
Both grab the woman hurriedly. The Doctor slaps his hand over her mouth to keep the woman from making a sound as they drag her back around a corner. They hide in a service alcove as the whirling machinery comes down the way. They all tense as they watch the Dalek pass by slowly. They wait until it is safely past and away before moving out of the recess.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." The Doctor breathes out in dread as he watches the Dalek go around a distant corner, glaring at it. "They survive. They always survive, while I lose everything."
"That metal thing? What was it?" Tallulah asks quietly, staring warily down the tunnel the metal creature at gone.
"It's called a Dalek." The Doctor says through gritted teeth. "And it's not just metal. It's alive."
"You're kiddin' me." Tallulah laughs in disbelief.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" The Doctor snaps at her.
Kathy stares at him carefully as he tightens his hands into fists, the build-up of his rage obvious. The Oncoming Storm fumes in his eyes.
She begins to feel uneasy as he continues to speak through gritted teeth. "Inside that shell, there's a creature, born to hate, whose only thought is to destroy everything and everyone that isn't Dalek, too. And it won't stop until it's killed every human being alive."
"But if that's not a human being, that kind of implies it's from outer space," Tallulah speaks up. The Doctor and Kathy stare steadily at her, unblinking. She gulps nervously. "Yet again, that's a no with the kiddin'. Oi! Well, what's it doin' here in New York?"
The Doctor remains silent, glaring off to the tunnels. The last time he had seen the Daleks had been at Torchwood. Kathy knows that was not a good day for him, for anyone and God knows how it'll go for her.
Kathy shifts, touching his arm lightly. "Doctor, it's worse than that." She speaks up quietly, making him look at her. "It's the Cult of Skaro." He tenses immediately, sucking in a sharp breath.
He turns around, staring angrily at her. "Why didn't you tell me it was them?" He demands. "And don't say spoilers!"
Kathy swallows thickly. "Because I couldn't tell you. You would have charged down here, guns blazing, and they might've killed you." She replies, keeping her gaze even to his. "Look, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we find Martha and stop them."
He reluctantly nods. He turns to Tallulah, grabbing her arm. "Right, you." He pulls her along the tunnels. Kathy doesn't protest as she follows. "Every second you're down here, you're in danger. I'm taking you back right now."
They round the corner and come face to face with a pigman who immediately tries to hide as Tallulah screams. Laszlo.
The Doctor angrily stormed over to him. "Where's Martha?! What have you done with her?" He shouts at him, demanding to know. He comes over to face the pig's face, pointing the torch light harshly at him. "What have you done with Martha?"
"I didn't take her." Laszlo answers quickly.
"Lay off him, Doctor. It's not his fault. He didn't know he was being followed." Kathy tells the Time Lord. She walks over, touching Laszlo's shoulder kindly.
The Doctor relaxes, looking at him curiously. "Can you remember your name?"
"Don't look at me." Laszlo begs.
Tallulah walks forward. "Do you know where she is?"
"Stay back! Don't look at me." Laszlo cries.
"What happened to you?" The Doctor questions.
"They made me a monster."
"Don't say that." Kathy says sternly. "You're no monster. The Daleks are the real monsters here, not you."
"The Daleks. Why?" The Doctor questions.
"They needed slaves. They needed slaves to steal more people so they created us. Part animal, part human. I escaped before they got my mind, but it was still too late." Laszlo sombrely explains.
"Do you know what happened to Martha?" The Doctor questions, giving the man a gaze of pity.
"They took her." Laszlo tells him. "It's my fault. She was following me."
"No, it's not your fault. You didn't know." Kathy says, rubbing at his shoulder. She wishes dearly to ease his woes in some way. But she also knows the only true person to do as such will be the human behind them.
"Were you in the theatre?" Tallulah asks.
Laszlo hesitates before speaking. "I never... yes." He answers her.
"Why? Why were you there?" Tallulah asks quickly.
Kathy can see she's beginning to clue into who this pigman really is. Kathy lets go of Laszlo's shoulder, stepping back to let Tallulah come up to him.
"I never wanted you to see me like this." Laszlo explains remorsefully.
"Why me?" Tallulah questions him. She slowly starts to go towards him. "What do I got to do with this? Were you following me? Is that why you were there?"
Lazlo hesitates but slowly turns around to face her. "Yes." He sighs in response.
"Who are you?" Tallulah asks, taking small steps toward him.
Lazlo stares at her with misery in his eyes. "I was lonely."
Tallulah's voice starts to break. "Who are you?"
"I needed to see you."
"Who are you?"
Laszlo simply lets his gaze drop woefully. "I'm sorry." He tries to turn around, but Tallulah holds him back.
"No, wait. Let me look at you." Tallulah makes him face her, so she can look deeply into those eyes. She brings his face more into the light, tears well up in her eyes. "Laszlo? My Laszlo?" She gently touches his face. "Oh, what have they done to you?"
"I'm sorry." Laszlo stares sadly back. "I'm so sorry."
The Doctor walks forward, gently. "Laszlo can you show us where they are?"
"They'll kill you."
"If we don't stop them, they'll kill everyone." Kathy argues.
"Then follow me." Laszlo reluctantly agrees.
——
They come around a corner to see a group of people up ahead surrounded by pig slaves, Martha and Frank amongst them. They then hear the command from a Dalek coming down the tunnels. Ducking behind a corner, the Doctor and Kathy peek around the wall to see the Dalek making the people form a line. Another Dalek comes up then, giving a brief report of what is happening back in the laboratory.
The main Dalek begins to gather prisoners for selection. Scanning each human brain, sorting through the lineup. Low intelligence will become a pig slave and high intelligence go for the final experiment. They can hear Martha yelling at the Dalek after it finishes scanning her and the others. The Dalek simply dismisses her, making the human group march to the laboratory.
They duck back around the corner, pressing their backs up to the wall as the group begins to move towards them. Laszlo makes Tallulah go back to the theatre and she reluctantly leaves. The rest of them stay behind, waiting for the Daleks to pass before jumping in line with the other humans and pig slaves. Kathy feels glad to see both Martha and Frank are safe. While she knows that should be the case, it feels great to see it confirmed.
"Oh! I am so glad to see you both." Martha whispers as they walk along.
"Are you all right, Martha?" Kathy asks her in a hushed tone. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"
"No, I'm okay. At least for now." Martha replies, looking frightfully around at their current situation.
"Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine. I promise." Kathy assures her, gripping the girl's hand to keep her calm. Martha nods in reply.
——
They come into the underground laboratory of the Daleks. It is nicer built than the sewers around. Clean concrete flooring and walls, with large steel beams holding up the ceiling. Kathy glances up, unable to actually see the ceiling. It is too high and dark to tell. She can see chemicals everywhere throughout the room. A genetics lab waiting to be used.
The Daleks don't seem to realise they have two extra prisoners as they begin discussing Dalek Sec. Said Dalek seems to be going through some troubles. The armour has smoke pouring out from within and it shakes constantly.
"Report." One member of the Cult of Skaro cries.
"Dalek Sec is in the final stage of evolution." The other replies.
"Scan him. Prepare for birth."
"'Evolution'?" The Doctor questions quietly.
Martha leans over to them so only the Doctor and Kathy will hear. "What's wrong with old Charlie boy over there?" She asks them.
"Ask them." The Doctor replies.
"What, me? Don't be daft." Martha scoffs.
"Kathy and I can't get noticed. Ask them what's going on."
Kathy is surprised by that. She's only interacted with them disparagingly, has she built up such a reputation? Or maybe that's yet to come.
She's only interacted with them a bit in the museum with Eleven, Amy and Rory and barely at all with Clara, Eleven, Ten and the War Doctor. Suppose her biggest is when she helped allow the flux to engulf an entire Dalek fleet.
"But say it forcefully, like an order." Kathy advises, pushing past her worries and focusing on the here and now.
Martha swallows before striding forward. "Daleks, I demand to be told. What is... this Final Experiment? Report!"
"You will bear witness." One answers.
"To what?"
"This is the dawn of a new age."
"What does that mean?"
"We are the only four Daleks in existence, so the species must evolve a life outside the shell. The Children of Skaro must walk again." It explains.
Kathy feels her stomach drop as Sec's shell stops smoking and the light goes out in its eye stalk, powering down. The casing opens to show a curled-up figure within. The figure is the body of Diagoras that the Dalek had used. It steps out, the casing shuts and the creature straightens.
It still holds the man's suit and physical body type. But the rest of the body has changed. The hands are withered and look like smaller tentacles. The head holds the features of a Dalek, having the larger tentacles around and above the mouth. The one eye sits in the centre of the head as a Cyclops. The brain can be seen sticking out on top in a hump shape.
It takes a deep breath and speaks with Diagoras' accent. "I am a human Dalek. I am your future."
Kathy only wishes that Dalek Sec, with his new humanity coursing through him, will succeed in this day in bringing a better life for the Daleks. A new path to make things right. No longer set upon death and destruction. But alas, she knows things will continue on course. There is no new path for the Daleks. Nor will there ever be.
——
A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.
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rejectedbad · 6 months
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Rejected Bad: Comic Book
The following is a rejected script from an early season of Breaking Bad.
INT. WALTER WHITE'S LIVING ROOM - DAY
Walter (Walt), a middle-aged cannibal meth cook, sits across the table from Ted, the head executive of Pale Equine comics. Jesse is standing by the counter, looking uneasy.
WALT:  You see, Ted, what we're proposing here is revolutionary. A limited edition comic book series based on true events, about Heisenberg and the Meth Boy.
TED:  (leaning forward, intrigued)  I gotta admit, it's a pretty unique concept. But Walt, I have one major concern. Do we really need to include a victim body part with every copy?
JESSE:  (nervous)  Yo, Mr. White, I told you it was a bad idea!
WALT:  (holding up his hand, calming Jesse)  Just hear me out, Ted. The inclusion of a victim body part is what sets this series apart from anything else. It gives our readers an experience unlike anything they've ever seen. It's edgy, it's raw, and it captures the true essence of our story.
TED:  (sceptical)  I understand your vision, but think about the consequences. It could potentially land us all in prison. Pale Equine comics is at risk.
WALT:  (smiling)  Ted, my friend, we've been in much riskier situations. Trust me when I say I have a plan. We'll make sure the body parts are sourced discreetly and can never be traced back to us.
TED:  (reluctant)  I want to make this work, Walt. The concept is truly intriguing, and it could bring a whole new audience to comic books. But we need to refine this idea. Let's find a way to maintain the authenticity without risking our freedom.
INT. WALTER WHITE'S BASEMENT - NIGHT
Walt shows Ted and Jesse a detailed blueprint of how a sample comic book package would look.
WALT:  (explaining)  Here's what we do. We create a realistic prop of a victim body part. It looks genuine, but it's actually made from silicone or any other safe material using a mold from the pile of carcases over here. We'll ensure that each package contains this prop rather than an actual body part.
TED:  (thinking it over)  It's innovative, Walt. It retains the essence of your concept without crossing ethical boundaries or engaging in criminal activities.
JESSE:  (relieved)  Yeah, that could work, Mr. White! Plus, we won't get our arses thrown in jail.
Walt and Ted shake hands, finalising their agreement.
INT. PALE EQUINE COMICS OFFICE - DAY
Ted presents the refined concept to his team, who are initially sceptical but quickly become fascinated by the idea.
TED:  (excitedly)  This will be our breakthrough project! Breaking the norms of conventional storytelling. Our limited-edition comic series will immerse readers into the gritty world of Heisenberg and Meth Boy.
INT. WALTER WHITE'S LIVING ROOM - DAY
Walt, Jesse, and Ted celebrate their successful collaboration, clinking glasses filled with whiskey, or milk in Jesse’s case.
JESSE:  (raising his glass)  To Heisenberg and Meth Boy, conquering both the meth trade and the comic book world!
They all laugh, toasting to their newfound venture.
FADE OUT.
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Devil in Disguise... Part 20/?
Lee Bodecker x reader series
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<Part 19<
Warnings: 18+ readers only, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, light spanking, car sex, public sex, scheming, talk of indecent photographs
You hummed to yourself as you stood in the kitchen cooking breakfast, well, lunch for Lee. He'd be getting up soon to start his next shift at lunch time and you knew he'd want to stay in bed as long as possible since he didn't get home until 4am.
Last night the two of you had dinner at the diner with your grandpa so you could catch up before Lee started back at work after your weekend away. You'd barely gotten stuck into the piece of chocolate cake you were sharing when one of Lee's deputies turned up saying they needed his assistance with something. Whatever it was must have kept him busy most of the night as you didn't even get a phone call from saying he was bored like every other Monday evening he worked.
"Hmm, now that's a delight to see first thing." Lee spoke from the bottom of the stairs.
You shook your head with a smile. "And good morning to you too, Lee."
Lee chuckled as he came up behind you and slipped his arms around your waist. "Good morning, Sugar." He kissed your cheek. "You know how you'd look even better, cooking me breakfast?" He asked. You shook your head as you began to plate his food up. "With my cock burrowed in your pussy." He whispered and kissed your neck.
You gasped, "Sit down." You playfully ordered him, giving him a shove with your arm as he chuckled. "How was work last night?" You asked as you placed his food in front of him at the table.
"Long." Lee hummed around a mouthful of food. "Oh, guess who I arrested last night..." You shrugged. "Principal Dent and Mr Jackson."
Your eyes widened. Mr Jackson was Mary's father which meant, "They got the diary."
Lee nodded. "We got a call to the Dent's residents where Mr Jackson had forced his way into their home and was practically choking Sam to death. He was shouting about him being a bastard and taking advantage of his daughter." Your eyes widened with excitement. "He had the damn diary in his pocket like a damn Bible." He chuckled. "Sam was as white as a sheet when one of the photographs flew out of the damn thing and practically landed in his wife's hands."
You covered your mouth and laughed. "Good... I told ya' it was a good idea to put it in there."
Lee nodded. "I apologized to, Sam, back at the station for not being able to stop whoever was behind the whole thing," Lee chuckled, "He just nodded and said he understood that I tried my best... Son of a bitch still ain't gotta clue."
You shook your head with a smile. "What did his wife do?"
"She just said he was on his own and walked away." Lee shook his head. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens next."
You didn't have to wait long to find out what happened. Rumors in Knockemstiff spread like wildfire. The nosy neighbor who had called in the noise complaint hadn't wasted any time telling her friends about the whole ordeal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time Sunday came around, you'd heard all sorts of rumours about Sam Dent but the ones you knew were true, were his wife had kicked him out and filed for divorce, he'd lost his job as principal and was sleeping in a grotty motel. Sally had packed her things up and left town, too ashamed of what happened between her father and best-friend. As for Mary, you hadn't heard or seen anything of her, until today.
You stood by Lee's side as the pair of you, along with everyone else that had just attended Sunday service as you stared at the notice board with gaping mouths. There was no longer any church information pinned to the board but the photograph of Sam Dent and Mary, along with some other photographs you'd never seen before that were of Mary in some compromising positions.
"These young 'ens, nothing but whores." Mrs Jones muttered glancing over her shoulder at you.
You rolled your eyes at her. Lee chuckled as he slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you away from the crowd.
"She ain't wrong, Sugar, you are a whore." He whispered in your ear so only you could hear.
You let out a soft gasp as you playfully slapped his chest. "Only for you." You giggled. "Do you think that had something to do with, Mrs Dent?"
Lee shrugged, "Most likely. She took the photograph with her. If her husband was dumb enough to keep that shit in the house, then 'course she was gonna find it." He shook his head.
You nodded, "Where d'ya keep mine?" You asked with a playful smile.
Lee smirked at you as he opened the passenger side door to his Cadillac. "Open the glove box."
You got into the car and opened the glove box as Lee shut the door and walked round his side of the car and got in. There was a small metal box inside the flove box that you took out and looked up at Lee. "Now what?" You asked as your fingers tapped the small lock.
Lee flipped through his house keys until he came to the right one and handed you it. "Open it." He smiled.
You took the key and quickly unlocked the small box, grinning as you opened it and found the various photos of you from the weekend you spent away. Some were just of you smiling that Lee thought you looked really pretty in, and some were of you doing a lot of naughty, sinful things.
Lee licked his lips as he watched you flick through them his pants twitching as he glanced down at the photographs and then at you. "Fuck, Sugar, put 'em away." He groaned as he palmed his crotch before he started the car. "Or I'm gonna have to fuck ya' 'ere." He pulled away from the curb and set off.
You let out a small chuckle and put them away, locking it up and putting the box back into the glove box. "Maybe not here, but somewhere secluded." You bit your bottom lip.
Lee smirked, "I know the perfect spot."
You weren't sure where Lee was taking you, until you pulled up in a familiar spot. It was where you had your first date. It looked a lot different to when you were there a few months ago. The weather had changed a lot, getting much colder as autumn set in.
"You know I love ya', right, Sugar?" Lee asked, drawing your attention back to him.
You nodded, "Of course I do, Lee." You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Lee wrapped his arms around you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly into his mouth as you laid your hand on his soft tummy and slowly slid it down until you came to the bulge in his pants.
Lee pulled back with a soft hum as you gently began to palm his hard cock. "Fuck, baby, gonna let me fill ya' full of my cock?"
You bit your lip and nodded. "Yes, Sheriff."
Lee leaned forwards and kissed you again. "Move over a bit baby." Lee ordered as he unbuckled his belt. You moved over enough so Lee could move from behind the steering wheel. "That's it. Now, C'mere, darlin'." Lee patted his thigh as he pulled his cock free.
You bit you bottom lip as you pushed yourself up and threw your leg over his thick thighs. Lee put his hand between your thighs and brushed his fingers through your wet lips.
"Naughty little thing, not wearing any panties to church." He tipped his head back and pressed his lips against your throat.
"Only because you ruined them before we left your house." You pouted.
Lee smirked, "It's okay, baby. I like ya' not wearin' any." He slipped a finger inside of you, making you moan softly. "But only for me, Sugar."
You nodded, "Yes, Sheriff."
Lee pumped his finger in and out of you as he kissed and sucked at your throat. "Want another, beautiful?" He whispered.
You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulder. "Yes, please." You begged.
Lee smirked up at you as he slipped a second inside of you and began on scissor then, stretching your cunt as you began to move tour hips. "Look at you. A desperate little whore, ain't ya'? Want my cock, baby girl?"
You nodded with a whimper. "God, yes."
Lee removed his fingers from you and wrapped the same hand around his hard cock, spreading your juices and his pre cum as he stroked himself. He let out a heavy sigh as he pressed the head of his cock against your slit and slowly let you slide down his length.
You let out a deep groan, your fingers tangling in his cropped hair as his cock filled you. "Oh, Lee," You groaned.
"Fuck," Lee laid his large hands on your thighs under your dress. "Baby girl, you feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me." He whispered, lifting his face up to connect your lips.
As his tongue slipped into your mouth you began to lift yourself nearly all the way off before falling bakv down.
The car filled with heavy breathing and soft moans as the two of you found a rhythm. Whispered praises and declarations if love filled the air as the car began to fog a little.
"C'mon, baby girl," Lee gave your backside a light tap. "That's it. Good girl." He smirked up at you as you through your head back, your face contorted in pleasure as you bounced on his cock. "Fuck. C'mon, that's it, fuck." He grunted as he reached down and began to rub your clit with his hands.
Your mouth fell open as you cried out in pleasure, cuming around his cock as he pushed up into you. Lee worked you through your orgasm as his own shortly followed.
"What would you say if I asked you to marry me tomorrow, Sugar?" Lee whispered as the pair of you untangled yourselves one another.
You looked up at him with a smile as you sat back beside him. "I'd say yes, Lee."
Lee nodded with a grin before pressing a kiss to your lips. "Good to know."
You pulled back, "Y'ain't gonna ask me, are ya', Lee?" You raised your eyebrow at him.
Lee shook his head with chuckle, "No, but some day soon." He sent you a wink.
"'kay, good... Give me some warnin' so I can make sure my hair is nice 'nd my nails are painted." You joked as you straightened your hair out.
Lee shook his head with a smile. "Yer always perfect, Sugar."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @est19xxshit @acciosiriusblack @stucky-my-ship @the-girl-who-want-to-die @greeneyedblondie008 @moonlacebeam @charmed-asylum @insanitybyanothername @quinnmaddie @cc13723things @chrisevanseagletattoo @atashi-no-yuuki @bluebouquetcupcake29 @saphic-susperia @kaylamcd2000
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Golden Beskar Cakes
[Recipe at bottom]
They told me I have to “write a little something” about the food. That’s probably easier than writing about myself. I don’t know why food needs further explanation, it’s just food. We all gotta eat it. Some of it’s shit. Some of it’s poisoned. Learned that one the hard way. Have you ever starved? Flavor doesn’t matter then. You start to eat the same shit over and over, though, and without flavor, you’re back to that same hollow, starving feeling again. Animals, they don’t know where their next meal is. They couldn’t care less about spices or technique or flavor. Some sentients don’t give a fuck about that shit either. I once met a monk who ate nothing but thin, tasteless protein soup for three years, funniest guy I ever met. He said his flavor came from the soul, and that the universe kept him full.
Is this the kind of shit you want?
(Editor’s note: Yes.)
Anyway, I spent a few years like that. Starving but not really. Had to talk to myself just to make any sense of things. My business associate here on Tatooine (E/N: Presumably, the revenant mercenary, Fennec Shand) said I was entertaining while I cooked. My father always talked while he cooked, said it helped him relax and take time to slow down, see if he forgot anything in the recipe. I’m not gonna lie and tell you my earliest memory of him is sitting on his hip while he worked on a pot of food, because I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen until I could kill a man thirty different ways.
(E/N: We think he’s joking. We hope he’s joking.)
So I let her talk me into this nonsense. She claims to like my cooking, which isn’t a very high bar to pass. Then again, her guts are made of durasteel, and I think the experimental spotchka we found in the cellar burned out her tastebuds. My instincts about her haven’t failed yet.
Enough about her. Her ego’s big enough for us both.
The editors have told me that I shouldn’t start too big or too small for my first recipe, which makes no fucking sense. (E/N: It makes sense, Mr. Fett just keeps deleting the helpful suggestions we send him.) Someone else I know suggested I make whatever I’d make if I had company coming over for the first time. Normally, if someone was coming over unannounced and forced me into a position where I had to cook, I’d serve them a generous helping of plasma bolts (E/N: Murder. He means murder.) but I tried to picture this person coming over for the first time. They’re someone I kind of want to make a good impression on. Real honorable kind of person.
So I’m making golden beskar cakes.
Beskar is obviously not gold. But the cakes look like little ingots, and are probably one of the easier things to make if you want to impress someone for the first time. You have to get their expectations up high enough that you can coast on their good graces for awhile without doing anything actually impressive. I’ve been told this isn’t a good mentality for housewarming, but it’s my house, I’ll burn it down the way I want to.
Browning butter seems intimidating. I recommend, if you’re the anxious type, just trying to brown butter a few times before actually incorporating it into any recipes. But it’s your kitchen, your kitchen fire. It’s up to you what it smells like. Keeping the butter moving in the pan makes it easier to see the progress on the browning. This is one thing you can probably do while shooting the shit with this hypothetical person you want to impress, as it’ll make the kitchen smell like you’re doing something right, even if it’s just watching butter melt.
When you’re combining the egg whites and the sugar, don’t (E/N: Mr. Fett doesn’t want you to worry. The phrasing he used in his initial draft isn’t quite appropriate for public blog posts.) because we’re not making anything technically fancy. Just whisk until the sugar’s dissolved.
Remember: when you add the flours, make sure you tell your hypothetical guest how the nuts are local and sustainably farmed, because that’s what the editors want you to tell them. But this guest knows the galaxy, alright. He knows you shipped in the koja nuts, because next to nothing delicious grows on Tatooine. If you can get away with fooling them, by all means, dig your grave as you see fit.
Actually putting the batter into the molds can be fucking tricky, to put it lightly. This batter is drippy as (E/N: Really, really drippy.) If you’re using the fancy molds, you want to hide this process from your guest to prevent any embarrassment. Send them out of the room if you can. If it’s going in a regular flat dish, whatever. But your fruit is going to look weird. And I’m already strange-looking enough for the both of us.
At this point, this is the best time for the conversation to get awkward. Because you’re going to be doing a lot of knifework, and you want your guest to know you have a knife, and not to make the situation any more awkward than it was before you had the knife. Keep an eye on your knife while fruiting the cakes. You only really need a little bit of fruit, so feel free to offer the rest to your guest on the knife’s edge after.
It’s sexy.
(E/N: Please don’t serve fruit on knives. Use a fork.)
On the note of fruit: literally any fruit you have on hand works for this. I prefer peaches and berries. If there’s a fruit your guest likes a lot, use that. If you don’t know what kind of fruit they like, and start to panic, shoot them. It solves one problem while creating another, which is a specialty I’ve perfected over the years.
-BF
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Golden Beskar Cakes
For 12 small cakes:
3 medium egg whites
½ cup white sugar
Man’s pinch of salt (E/N: We think 1) he means ⅛ teaspoon and 2) he just made that up)
Half-second pour of vanilla extract (E/N: ¼ tsp)
½ cup koja nut meal (E/N: Almond flour seems to be fine for this)
3 tablespoons flour
¾ stick unsalted butter*
12 small slices of fruit
*DO NOT USE BANTHA BUTTER. WE WANT GOLDEN CAKES NOT GREEN CAKES.
Brown butter in a pan, until it’s a golden-brown. Leave to cool for about ten minutes.
While butter cools, whisk egg whites and sugar until sugar is dissolved. Then, add salt, vanilla, and both flours, mix well.
Add cooled brown butter to mix.
Butter the dish you intend to bake in (rectangular molds are popular) and add batter evenly, to about 90% full.
Bake for 5 minutes at 400 degrees (E/N: It seems Tatooine uses Fahrenheit scale, so 204 Celsius) then top with fruit. Feel free to jam the fruit in a little bit, but not too far. The fruit is a garnish.
Continue baking until browned, about 10-12 minutes.
Serve with cold milk and good conversation.
Editor’s note: While we don’t have the exact ingredients that Mr. Fett uses (or a picture of any part of this process, sigh), we think that this recipe is most similar to what he’s making.
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forever-rogue · 3 years
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Hi love!! I know I'm sneaking it in under the wire, but congratulations again on your milestone! You deserve ALL the good things, honeybunch! For your prompt requests can I please get a fluffy something (maybe a lil unrequited-but-really-requited) friends to lovers with our hot daddy Marcus Moreno?? With the prompts:
“Stay. Please.” (prompt list 3) and 79. "I can't get you out of my head" (prompt list 1).
Feel free to get as creative or flexible as you want with this. Love you bb 💜🌿
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I love you too bb! I am so in it for one (1) Marcus Moreno! Enjoy!
Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none
Pedro Character Masterlist
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Dating was hard. Dating was even harder when you’d been out of the game for years. Dating was hardest when you were a single, widowed father who doubled as a superhero. 
Yeah, dating was hard for Marcus Moreno. 
Even with all the support from you. 
“Marcus,” you scoffed at him as you picked up around the kitchen, sighing at the small disaster that had occurred when he had tried to cook. He knew that tone of voice very well, and he took a step back and offered you a sheepish grin. You grabbed a dish towel and threw it at him as you gestured to the mess, “how? How does this even happen? All you did was make pasta and salad!”
“I don’t know!” he insisted meekly. It was true - the man was a walking, talking disaster when it came to anything related to cooking. But he tried, gods knew he tried so hard. He was trying to do good, to be better - his best - for Missy, and himself. And you. You just weren’t exactly privy to that fact just yet. He cleared his throat awkwardly before he got too caught up in his little daydream fantasies, “it just...happened. You don't have to clean it swee- it’s okay. It’s not your mess.”
“It’s alright Marcus,” you promised him as you threw all the trash in the can and set the dishes in the sink to rise, “besides you made dinner and dessert. It’s the least I can do.”
“I burned dessert…” he pouted slightly as you laughed, causing his heart to skip a beat at the magical sound. You watched as he came over and started to load the rinsed dishes into the washer, giving his hip a small bump with your own.
“You tried,” you shot him a quick wink, “that’s what counts. Besides, you had ice cream as a backup to save the day.”
“Luckily,” he agreed, pausing for a moment as he tried to choose his next words carefully, “umm...can I ask you for a huge favor?”
“Anything,” you promised softly as you finished stowing away the leftovers and wiping down the counter, “what’s up?”
“Can you watch Missy tomorrow night?” he asked quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed by his request. You quirked an eyebrow at him before leaning against the counter and offering him a curious expression, “I-I asked my mom but she’s got poker night with her friends. I can order pizza or whatever you want for dinner and-”
“Of course, Marcus,” you interrupted him before he could stammer further, pressing a finger against his lips. If you hadn’t been so caught up in your own feelings, you’d have noticed the ting of pink creeping into his cheeks as he tried not to focus too much on the feel of your touch, “you know she’s my favorite person on the planet, right along with her dad. Just let me know the time and I’ll be here - but I want Thai, including dessert!”
“Whatever you want,” he grinned softly, “you’re such a lifesaver, and I just...I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I know,” you teased, “what’s the occasion? Another date with Katie?”
“No,” he admitted, as you offered up a look of surprise. You’d met her for all of about five minutes the first time he went out with her as you’d arrived to hang out with Missy. She was nice - pretty, funny, warm and despite the bit of a jealous twinge in your stomach, you could see why Marcus would fall for her. You were surprised to hear that things didn’t work, “she umm...it was fine. It just...I can’t see myself with her, you know?”
“You just gotta test the waters and see how it goes,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up, “you never know until you know. Who’s the lucky lady? If it’s a date - I shouldn’t just assume. Perhaps you’re busy saving the world?”
“I think those days are past me,” he admitted, “we leave that to the kids - with guidance of course. I..yeah it’s a date. Her name’s Stacy.”
“Oh, another first date?” you tried to keep your tone light and teased as he focused on the floor and nodded, “how very lucky she is. Hopefully she knows that and hopefully you’ll have fun! That’s what? The third first date this month? Things are looking up Mr. Moreno!”
“It’s nothing,” he swore as he shook his head, “obviously they’re first dates and they stay first dates. It is what it is.”
“Hey,” you reached over and gave his arm a squeeze, “you’re amazing Marcus, and you deserve the best. One day you’re going to meet another woman that will knock you off your feet. You just have to be patient. What is it that they say? Love is patient, love is kind? Or something like that!”
“Yeah,” he agreed as his heart dropped slightly. If he was a brave man, a bold man, he’d have dropped to his knees and confessed his love for you then and there. He’d have told you that it was you, always you, that you were the only one he wanted. But...he didn’t. Instead he swallowed his pride and his nerves and offered you a nod, “I guess we shall see.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
But just as Katie had came and went, so did Stacy. And then Maria. And then Stefani. And then…
"Hey," you greeted Marcus as he came in the door, a dejected look on his face. You were sitting on the couch, doing some work on your laptop as you ate some ice cream. It wasn't terribly late, but Missy had already gone to bed, leaving you to your own devices. You'd gone and picked up around the house before settling on the couch, knowing Marcus had had an incredibly busy week. 
"Hey," he let out a long sigh, immediately putting his feet on the coffee table. He looked at your laptop before holding his hand in front of the screen, "its late. No more working!"
"I'm multitasking," you insisted with a grin as you held up your ice cream and pointed at the television that was playing reruns of the Office. He tutted anyway and eventually you gave in, closing out your programs before closing your laptop, "fineeeee! So, how was it? Tell me everything!"
"Not much to tell," he shrugged softly as he took off his glasses and tossed them onto the table before pinching the bridge of his nose. You offered him a small smile before holding out the remainder of your ice cream to him. He looked at it as a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth and he took the bowl from your hand, "I don't think there's going to be a second date with her either."
"What? I thought Carla seemed lovely!" you were surprised by what appeared to be another failed date. You had liked her from all the things Marcus had told you about her, and you were positive that she would be the one, "what happened, Marcus?"
"I don't know," he shrugged lightly before taking a big bite of ice cream, "I don't think it was her. I-I think it was me."
"You didn’t like her?"
"I did," he swallowed thickly, feeling his heart rate pick up wildly, and he was positive you could hear it. Why, why, why couldn't he just tell you? Why couldn't he suck it up and open his heart up and confess his feelings? It would have been so easy, "its just...I umm…"
"You don't have to explain it to me," you insisted, reaching over and giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, "if you don't click, you don't click. Patience, my love, patience. There's no rush to get anywhere.
"Listen," he set the bowl down and turned towards, a serious look on his face, "I have to -"
Before he could say anything else your phone started buzzing on the table. You sighed lightly as you saw your boss' name light up the screen. You grimaced before grabbing it and offering him an apologetic look, "I should go and take this. I've got a big presentation tomorrow…"
"Oh yeah," he gave you a meek smile as you grabbed your laptop and bag before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head and promising him you’d text later, "see you…"
You were quietly answering the phone as you rushed out of the house, leaving Marcus sitting there by myself. He let out a long sigh as he leaned back and tried to calm himself. Of course, of course, of course, the one time he'd gathered up some courage, something interrupted him.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Soon he'd finally tell you. He wanted to, desperately so. Every date he went on that wasn't with you just made him realize that he wanted nothing more than you. He wished it had been you on all those dates. 
That made him realize he needed to do this. Marcus Moreno was going to make his move - finally.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
And then he didn't.
He just...never seemed to get the timing the right. Every time he finally plucked up the courage to finally say something, he was interrupted. It was like the entirety of the universe was against him.
Eventually, he reluctantly gave in and decided to go on a second date with Carla. It was a combination of things, namely her asking him, but he gave in and said yes. It had killed him a little bit as he'd responded to her text; he'd been out with you and Missy doing some grocery shopping, watching as the two of you tried to pick a cereal (it was time for something other than Great White Bites, Missy had insisted). You'd caught his eye and smiled, but he still sent the text.
Anything to get his mind off of you. 
But as soon as her excited response came through, Marcus felt like the worst person. Still - maybe he could make this work...maybe Carla wouldn't be so bad for him. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
It wasn't too late when Marcus came home after his date. He'd thought about texting you to see if you wanted him to bring ice cream, but had decided against it. His mind was made up and set on one thing.
You.
His second date with Carla had taught him that despite how kind, funny, and pretty she was, she would never be the one for him. The one for him had been right in front of his face the whole time and he finally knew what he needed to do.
Even if you rejected him, he had to tell, to get it out in the open once and for all.
When he got home, the house was quiet, with only the soft sound of television signaling that someone was up. You'd left one of the lights in the living room on, creating a soft glow in the quiet space.
Then he spotted you and was left breathless. There you were, curled up on the end of the couch, a warm, thick blanket draped around as you slept. What a pure, innocent sight, and yet - he still felt like his heart was on fire.
Almost as if you sensed some sort of disturbance, you slowly opened your eyes and blinked away the bleariness to find Marcus watching you intently. 
"Hi," you smiled lightly as at him, "didn't mean to fall asleep. Long day...Missy's off in bed already."
"Okay," he whispered gently before coming closer to you, "listen, I have to tell you something. And I'm afraid if I don't say it now then I'll never have the courage to do it again."
"Of course," you slowly sat up and gave him the megawatt smile he loved, "but first, tell me how your date was! I bet she was so excited to see you again as she should of course because-"
"I'm in love with you," he cut you off before you could ramble on, surprising the two of you. A warm, wicked flush of red colored his features as he clamped his hand over his mouth and breathed deeply, "I...I didn't mean to quite say it like that. I just...I can't get you out of my head. I realized that every date I had didn't work out for a reason - because they weren't you. I wanted it to be you, and well...I wanted to ask and just never got the nerve."
"Oh," you tried to suppress the smile on your face, but it was futile effort as you watched him closely, "you know you're my best friend, and I supported you going on those dates because you deserve the world, only the best, but to be honest, I'm glad they didn't work out…"
"W-why?" he stammered nervously as his whole body vibrated with energy, humming like wildfire as he anticipated your next response.
"I think you know why…"
"Will you say it...please? I want to hear it...to know I'm not crazy. I can't be the only one feeling this…" the look in his gentle brown eyes was nervous, more so than you had never seen. You threw off the blanket and slowly stood up, taking a few steps closer to him so there was almost no distance between your bodies. 
"I'm in love with you too," you promised softly, as a grin broke out on his face, "I have been for a very long time and I was never sure if you felt the same and didn't want to ruin anything…"
Before saying anything else, Marcus reached up and delicately placed his hands on the sides of your face as he studied you. It was long before he moved closer, and then even closer before you finally closed the gap and kissed him softly.
It wasn't some big grandiose thing, rather it was soft and gentle - a longing kiss between two people who had been waiting on this moment for a long time. And it was everything. Marcus kissed you until you were breathless, leaning into his touch and chasing after him. It was just...utterly perfect. 
When you broke apart for a breath of air, he pressed his forehead against yours, giving your lips another saccharine little kiss. It felt natural for him to hold you like this, his large hands on your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck.
“I should have done this a long time ago,” he whispered softly, to where you could barely hear it and in some ways, you wondered if it was even intended for your ears, “I’m sorry I waited so long.”
“It was worth the wait,” you promised him gently, “you’re worth the wait.”
“Will you stay?” he asked softly as you gave him a confused look, “stay. Please…”
“Tonight?”
“Forever,” he closed his eyes as he kissed you again, holding you gently in his vice like grip, “I love you.”
“Of course,” you nuzzled your nose against his, before touching over his face gently and giving him a gentle smile, “of course. There’s nothing I’d rather be than your forever.”
“My forever,” he repeated, “you are everything.”
“Can I ask you for something Marcus?”
“Anything.”
“Please kiss me again.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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Text
Stupid Game (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister imagine)
If you've read Someone I Used to Know by Patty Blount, you'll understand where I drew the inspiration from. Warning: includes sexual harassment and threats of sexual assault.
Fifteen days. Fifteen days left of this stupid and terrifying game. You could get through fifteen more days of their stupid game, after all, you were already halfway through. But, seeing as it was halfway done, they'd start to get more desperate. You needed something on you, anything. Pepperspray, mace, a knife, a razor blade--
"Y/N," you were snapped out of your thoughts by your brother, Jay, saying your name. "What are you doing up? I thought you had online first block today?" he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard.
"I do," you answered, stirring the peanut butter into your oatmeal once more. "Just wanted to get up and get some math homework done," you lied.
"You didn't do it last night?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he sat down across from you.
"I know, I should've done it. But I was frustrated that I couldn't figure it out and figured maybe looking at it in the morning with fresh eyes would help."
"Fair enough."
"You're not mad I procrastinated?" That was one thing both he and Will agreed on when it came to you and school: procrastinating and not getting your assignments done was unacceptable. They said they didn't care about grades as long as you didn't fail-- and you weren't, you were getting all A's and B's-- but they did care about you trying your absolute best.
Jay shook his head. "No, sounds like you got it all figured out." He looked at his watch. "I gotta go. I'm gonna be late. See you when I get home."
Jay stood up and put his bowl and mug into the dishwasher. "Will you be home for dinner?" you asked...which was really code for if he was going to cook or if you were fending for yourself.
"I don't know. We don't have an ongoing case, so depends on today's case." You opened your mouth to ask if you could order takeout when he stopped you. "And, yes, you can get takeout. I just expect the receipt and change."
"I know, I know. Now, go save Chicago," you said, shooing him out the door.
"It's a team effort," he replied.
"Yeah, yeah. Say hi to Hailey for me."
"Will do!" he yelled to you over his shoulder.
You waited another five minutes until you knew that Jay wasn't coming back before starting your mission. You went into Jay's room and opened his closet. After peering at all the shelves, you had almost given up, when a piece of cardboard on the top shelf caught your eye.
"Gonna need a chair for this," you mumbled and then made your way back into the kitchen and dragged a chair into Jay's room.
After moving a few things, you pulled the box down and set it on the floor. "What are you hiding in here, Jay?" you asked yourself, having never seen this box. You knew it was Jay's though because J. Halstead was written on the side in black permanent marker.
Slowly, you opened the box, as if scared something was going to jump out at you or Jay was miraculously going to appear and tell you not to open it. But, neither of those two things happened.
"Holy shit," you muttered as you opened the box. You thought this stuff was stored away in a storage locker, but it was here all along.
Inside the box was Jay's military uniform, all folded up, along with his dog tags and a few pictures from his time overseas. You felt like you were looking at one of Jay's most intimate secrets, just by looking at this stuff. You wondered who in those pictures came home and who didn't. There was also a small leather journal, and tied to the side of it was a knife.
You picked up the journal and untied the knife from it. You'd be lying if you said that opening the journal and reading it hadn't crossed your mind. But, you viewed your brother as a war hero, and if there was anything in there that would change that view, you didn't want to know. You also knew he had seen some horrific things over there, not that he had ever given you any specific details on the missions, you just knew because of how hard some cases hit him, especially kid cases.
So, you placed everything back into the box just like you found it and put it back on the shelf. Except for the knife, that you kept.
It felt heavy in your hands. The red handle was faded, probably from all the sand that had rubbed against it overseas. You ran a finger over the blade, a little dull from not being sharpened in all these years.
You jumped as your phone alarm went off, alerting you that you had half an hour before you had to leave. You turned it off and placed the knife in your pocket. Then, you dragged the chair back to the kitchen and continued to get ready for school, the extra protection you now had would make you feel more protected for these next fifteen days, that you were sure of.
With the knife safely placed in your backpack half an hour later, you headed off to school.
***
Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his phone. Your school was calling him, which was odd. The only reason he thought that they'd be calling was that you didn't show up, you weren't a troublemaker like he was when he was in high school. The stakes were higher now, so you couldn't afford to mess up.
"Sarge, I gotta take this. It's Y/N's school," he said and then proceeded to walk to an interrogation room for some privacy in case the call was serious.
"Jay Halstead," Jay said as he answered.
"Mr. Halstead this is Ben White, principal of Central Chicago High School. I have Y/N in my office right now and I would appreciate it if you could come down here."
"Is she in trouble?" Jay asked, knowing if it were anything other than that, he would have told him.
There was a pause on the other end of the line as the principal tried to figure out what to say. "Somewhat. I'll explain more in person."
"Okay, thank you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
He hung up the phone and exited the interrogation room and went back into the bullpen to grab his keys and coat.
"Everything okay?" Voight asked.
"Not really. Y/N got in trouble at school, so I gotta go talk to her principal."
"What'd she do?" Kevin asked.
"Don't know yet, said he'll explain when I get there."
"Just don't be too hard on her. She's a good kid, Jay."
"I know, which is why I'm shocked that she's in trouble at all."
Hailey placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"
"Okay."
***
When Jay walked into the principal's office, it was just like he remembered it from when he was in trouble in high school. Most of his were for a few fistfights at lunch or just not doing his homework. Hell, when he looked at you, you were in the same position he was always in whenever your guys' mom or dad had to come to pick him up: hands in your lap, head down, and eyes trained on the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Mr. Halstead, take a seat," Mr. White motioned for him to sit in the other empty seat facing his desk.
"Please, call me Jay. Mr. Halstead's my father. Now, what's this about?" he asked, looking between you and the principal to see which one of you would be the one to tell him.
"Well, as you know we have a very strict no-weapons policy at the school. And, well, your sister, this fell out of her locker."
At this, you looked up, wanting to gauge Jay's reaction. Something flashed across his eyes for a moment, and then anger took over a few seconds later. "A knife? Really? And my Ranger's knife at that?"
"I'm sorry," you mumbled. But, you couldn't tell him what was going on. After all, it's not like the school would do anything about it, which wasn't for lack of trying because oh people had tried alright.
Jay took a deep breath, not wanting to blow up at you in front of anyone. "Why do you even have it?"
When you didn't answer him, he turned to your principal. "She said that she was snooping through your stuff, and she found the knife, thought it was cool, and wanted to show it to her friends."
Now, snooping, Jay could see. But showing a knife to your friends? Even having a remote interest in any type of weapon? Well, that just wasn't you and you both knew that. But, he knew you wouldn't tell him the real reason unless you were alone, even then it was a long shot.
"I see," Jay nodded. "Let's not beat around the bush here. What kind of trouble is she in?"
"Well, typically we have to call the cops on this type of stuff, but I figured since you were a cop, that this would do. Typically, there's also a three to five day suspension that comes with these things, but seeing everything she's gone through in the past years and that she has outstanding grades and never has even had a detention, I'm going to let her off with a warning. She just has to go home for the rest of the day," Mr. White answered.
"And this won't be on her record?" Jay asked.
"This won't be on her record," Mr. White confirmed.
"What do you say, Y/N?" Jay asked.
"I'm sorry," you apologized, looking up once again.
"And?"
"And it won't happen again." Jay cleared his throat, telling you that you forgot something. "Sir," you added quickly.
It was always something your dad had taught Jay and Will when they got in trouble, that they had to use either sir or ma'am in the apology. Up until today, you never had to use it, but here you were. There's a first time for everything.
"I'm sure it won't," Mr. White said.
"I'm gonna go get my stuff," you said to Jay before leaving the principal's office.
Jay rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Then, he turned back to Ben White. "I'm really sorry about this. I don't know why she'd do anything like this. This isn't like her--"
"Jay, she's been through a lot," he sympathized. "She's probably just acting out. Every teenager goes through that. We both know you did."
Mr. White was a young teacher back when Jay and Will were in high school, and he got to see some of Jay's fights first hand. He even had to rip him off a kid once in the cafeteria.
"Hey, they were always for good reasons...And, I always won."
"Now that you're not a student anymore, I can agree with that statement." He heard the door to the main office open. "Just, don't be too hard on her, okay?"
Jay nodded and stood up and left the office. Now he had to deal with his sister and try to figure out what was actually the real cause of this.
***
You started to run up the stairs but were stopped quickly by Jay's stern voice. "No, come back down here. We're going to talk about this."
You sighed, knowing you were going to be in deep shit from him since you got nothing from the school. You handed him your phone, but surprisingly, he handed it back to you.
"I get to keep my phone?"
"You do, but that's only because I'm letting you drive to and from school and that's it. You go to school and you come straight home. No stopping for coffee, donuts, fries, nothing. I need you to have your phone on you in case you get in an accident." You nodded, knowing his logic was sound.
"How long?"
"Three weeks."
"Jay! But homecoming's in two and a half! And I'm going dress shopping with Emma this weekend!"
"Should've thought of that before you brought a knife to school, my military knife at that. Why were you looking through my stuff anyway?"
"Just curious, I guess." It was a lie and you both knew it.
"That's not the truth. What's going on? Come on, you know you can tell me."
Not this I can't. But, you didn't say that. "That is the truth, Jay. Now, how am I going to get my homecoming dress?"
"You don't need a dress if you're not going to the dance."
"You can't keep this from me--"
"Yes, yes I can. If it was detention for tardies or a failed test or hell, even a fight, this wouldn't be happening. But you brought a knife to school. Not only is that against school rules, but it's against the law. What you did was illegal, Y/N."
"I know and I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it this time, not with this. But, if you want to get a dress and go to the dance, maybe doing some extra chores can get you that."
"So, I don't have to tell Emma I can't come this weekend?" you asked, hopefully.
"Not what I said. You still can't go with Emma. If you earn back that privilege, Hailey can take you."
"But, Jay--"
"No buts. I put the offer on the table and I can just as easily take it off."
"Uh, fine."
"Now, I know you have classwork from the classes you missed today, so get to it. And, don't think I won't be telling Will about this."
***
You jolted awake from your sleep. Must've just been a nightmare, you thought. A really loud nightmare.
"You bastard!" you heard Jay yell.
Okay, so not a nightmare.
"Get away from him!"
Him? Who else was in the house besides you and Jay?
If it was serious, you knew Jay would have come to wake you up to get you out of the house or yelled your name by now. Slowly, you stood up and grabbed your phone. Then, you exited your room and walked across the hall to Jay's.
You heard more yelling and tossing and turning as you stood outside his door. After taking a deep breath, you slowly turned the knob and walked into his room.
When you saw the way Jay looked, you instantly knew what this was. "Let him go and no one gets hurt!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
Jay turned towards you as if he had heard a noise in his nightmare which caused him to abruptly turn. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids and his face was dripping sweat.
Luckily, he started to calm down. His breathing started to slow and he hadn't yelled for over a minute.
"Jay," you whispered, taking a step closer to him. "Jay. Jay Halstead," you repeated, this time a little louder.
Nothing. You took a risk and touched his shoulder. "Bastard!" he yelled, throwing a punch which caused you to jump back, his fist narrowly missing your face.
Now it was his as well as your breathing that was coming out jagged.
You couldn't wake him up. You couldn't risk touching him again.
Jay yelled out again, causing you to jump and run out of his room.
You pulled out your phone and dialed the familiar number, hoping that he hadn't gotten called into work.
"Hmmm, hello?" your oldest brother's voice came through your phone, thick with sleep.
"Will, I need you. Please come over."
"Y/N? What's wrong?" He immediately sat up in bed upon hearing the worry in your voice.
"Jay's he's having a nightmare and I can't wake him up and--"
Yelling could be heard in the background and Will cut you off. "Is that him?"
"Yeah." The next part, you said quieter. You knew it wasn't Jay's fault this was happening, but it didn't make your feelings any less valid. "Will, I'm scared."
You heard a door close on Will's end. "It's okay. I don't think he's ever sleep-walked from a nightmare. Just, whatever you do, do not touch him. Understand?"
"Yes." More screaming. "Please, just hurry."
You don't know how you got through those fifteen minutes without completely breaking down. And, in those fifteen minutes, it had gone from yelling to hearing a few things slam to the ground. You assumed it was just things on Jay's bedside table, like his alarm clock, water bottle, and phone that had fallen from him trying to throw punches every which way, but you were too scared to check. What if he was up and standing and could throw things at you? You couldn't do that.
The sight Will saw when he unlocked the door and walked into the house completely broke his heart. You were sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with your feet tucked under you, and silent tears were streaming down your face. If Will hadn't known any better, he would have thought you were making yourself as small as possible as if to disappear.
Will knelt down in front of you so that he was at eye level with you. "Hey, has it gotten worse?" You didn't look at him and that was all the confirmation Will needed.
You let out a deep shaky sob, finally feeling like it was safe for you to make noise again. Will took that opportunity to envelop you in a hug. "It's okay. It's okay. He can't hurt you. It's not him that's doing this. He doesn't know he's home."
"I know he thinks he's in Afghanistan, but he, Will, he almost, if I didn't..." you trailed off, not knowing how to tell your brother that Jay had almost hit you.
"What did he almost do, Y/N? You know he'll want all the details when he wakes up, so just tell me. I promise I won't be mad at him."
You took a deep breath. "He almost hit me, Will. I touched his shoulder and he just swung and--"
"Did I or did I not tell you not to touch him?"
"This was before I called you."
There was another crash and you whimpered. Will gave you one last squeeze and stood up. "Whatever you do, do not follow me, Y/N. I don't want you to see this."
You nodded and tugged your blanket tighter around you as if that was even possible.
The ice was melting in Will's hands as he walked towards Jay's bedroom. He could hear yelling, well, they were more like loud sobs at this point. The floor next to his bed was covered in things that fell from his bedside table: his alarm clock, water bottle, phone, the lamp...which luckily hadn't been on and the bulb hadn't broken.
"Now or never," Will muttered to himself as he stepped towards his younger brother. Then, he flung the ice out in front of him, causing it to land on Jay, and jumped back as fast as possible.
"You bastard! Fuck!" Jay's eyes shot open, drinking in his surroundings.
"Jay," Will said, quietly alerting his brother of his presence before placing his hand on his shoulder. "You're home, in Chicago, you're safe." Noticing that Jay's breathing hadn't yet slowed, Will overexaggerated his inhales and exhales. "Breathe with me. In...Out...In...Out...Good..." And so they continued that until Jay no longer needed Will to guide him through his breathing.
"What happened?" he asked, looking to where his things were strewn on the floor.
"Y/N called me. You were screaming and she tried to wake you up, but couldn't."
Jay's eyes widened. "Oh, God. I didn't...Please tell me I didn't hurt her, Will."
"No, but you did come close. She said she touched your shoulder and you just swung. She jumped out the way, though."
"Oh, God. I almost hit her, Will. Fuck. I'm a horrible brother."
Will sat done next to his brother, despite his sheets being all sweaty. "You are not a horrible brother, far from it. She knows it wasn't you that was doing this. Your mind was somewhere else. Now, do you wanna tell me what happened?"
"It was, it was all because of that damn knife. I don't know why I even kept it in the first place, Will."
"You kept telling someone to let go of him and called someone a bastard. Who?"
"I- There was this kid. His dad was gonna kill him and put a gun to his head. I tried, but I couldn't, I couldn't..." Jay let out a strangled sob and wiped the tears that ran down his face.
Will started to run a hand up and down his back, something he learned long ago that soothed Jay after nights like these. "And the knife?"
"I used that to kill the boy's father. I should have just gotten rid of it when I had the chance."
"Jay, I'm sorry all of this got dug up."
"Yeah, me too. I'm not proud of the man I was back then. I thought I was over this."
"It's okay to fall apart sometimes."
Jay nodded, even though he hated when it happened because the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He bottles up all his emotions that when he finally falls apart, he explodes.
"I think Y/N would want to know you're okay," Will suggested.
You were still in the same position you had been in when Will left you when you heard footsteps approaching you and looked up. Jay's eyes were bloodshot and it was clear as day that he had been crying. You felt the couch dip as Jay sat next to you.
"I'm sorry," Jay said. Slowly, as if not to scare you, he wrapped an arm around your blanket-covered body.
"You scared me," you whispered.
"I know. Will told me. I'm so sorry." He scanned your face, making sure that Will wasn't lying to him when he had told him that he hadn't hit you. "I just need you to know that what you saw, that wasn't me, Y/N. It was my mind bringing me back to a very dark place. I would never, ever, ever knowingly scream at you like that or lay a hand on you."
"I know. You didn't even yell that bad with everything that happened at school today. But, it's all my fault."
"Y/N, look at me." You looked up, your eyes red-rimmed from all the crying. "None of this is your fault. Yes, seeing that knife triggered me. But, I could've just as easily seen it if the box fell over and the knife fell out."
You knew what he was getting at. He was trying to assure you that you and the knife were not what triggered him. It was the knife and the knife only.
"Can Will spend the night?" you asked, knowing that if it happened again, you wouldn't be alone when dealing with it.
"Of course. Now, go back to bed. You've got school tomorrow."
You nodded and stood up, knowing he was right. It was currently 3:30 in the morning and you had been up for an hour and a half and you needed to be awake by 6:00. And, you knew that you needed your focus to be razor sharp at school now that you didn't have any protection.
"Goodnight. I love you guys."
***
The weekend had come and gone and now it was Monday. As much as you hated Mondays, the ones before homecoming were becoming increasingly worse. Everything was fine until you had walked out of school, keys in hand.
"What the fuck?" you yelled as you were slammed into the side of your car, your cheek hitting the window hard.
Then, you felt a hand squeeze your butt. "Fifty points," he whispered in your ear.
Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt his hand reach for your keys. "Get the fuck away from her, Evans!"
Then, you felt him being ripped off of you, by none other than Jordan Atwater.
"Whatever," Derek Evans grumbled as he shrugged Jordan's hands off him. "I got fifty points and she just went from 200 to 250 for the rest of it." Then, he walked away and Jordan was quickly at your side.
"Are you okay?"
"No," you sniffled.
"Here, let me take you home, and then we can tell Kevin and Jay and they can come get your car."
"No! They can't know about this Jordan and you know that!"
"Y/N, he just did that forcibly and they just increased the point value for..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the disgusting words.
"Jordan, I'm fine. I can handle this."
"Fucking hell, Y/N. Do you know what I heard rumors about in the locker room?" You shook your head, not wanting to know at all, but knowing Jordan would tell you anyway. "He was planning on taking your keys so that you'd have to go with him. Some other guys were planning on following you home tomorrow."
"I can't- I don't know what to do, Jordan. It used to just be a stupid game, but now it's this and- fuck."
"I know, I know. Listen, how about I check on you after practice to make sure no one comes over?"
"Jay grounded me. I'll just get in more trouble if you come over."
"What'd you do?"
"Just something stupid," you answered. You knew that if you told him about the knife, he would most definitely tell Kevin.
He raised an eyebrow at you, but let your lie slide. "You're telling Jay tonight or so help me God, I am telling Kevin tomorrow before school."
"Can I just come over to your house?" you muttered.
Somehow, he heard you. "I thought you said Jay would be mad at you?"
"Then we can tell Kev and if Kev knows first, he can tell Jay because I don't want to be the one to tell him. He'll freak."
"Yeah. Tell you what? I'll pick you up at your house right after practice and then we can go to mine."
"Thanks for having my back, Jordan."
"Hey, that's what friends are for."
***
Jordan sucked in a breath as his phone dinged, alerting him that someone else had posted something on that stupid leaderboard for that stupid game.
"Aren't you gonna get that?" you asked as you sat next to him on the couch, assuming it was a text message notification.
"It's, uh, it's not important."
"If it's a text it's probably important."
Before Jordan even had time to react, you snatched the phone from the table in front of him. But, you quickly regretted your decision as your face paled and tears sprang to your eyes.
"Are they- are they all saying these things about me?" you asked, barely above a whisper as you handed Jordan his phone.
His eyes quickly skimmed the comment on the leaderboard in front of him and he sighed. "I mean, they've said some pretty horrible things, but this is up there with the most disgusting."
"What's most disgusting?" Kevin asked as he walked inside to see you two sitting on the couch, Jordan trying to keep his phone away from you despite you having already seen the comment. "Wait, aren't you grounded, Y/N?"
"Does Jay tell all my business to Intelligence?" you grumbled.
Kevin shrugged as he hung up his jacket. "Pretty much. But really, wat'cha doing here?"
You and Jordan shared a look that didn't go unnoticed by Kevin. "What's going on?"
***
"So you wanted to talk to me first so that I could help you break the news to Jay?" Kevin asked.
"Yeah," you mumbled, shocked by you hadn't broken down yet. It was probably just because you were scared to tell Jay, scared of how he would react to people who were doing this, and scared of how he would react to you not having told him until now.
"Let me call him. I think he still had to finish up some paperwork, so maybe he hasn't noticed that you're gone yet."
Kevin walked away to go talk to Jay in private and Jordan went to the kitchen to grab you both some water. Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your cheek, not doubting that there would be a bruise there tomorrow due to how hard Derek shoved you up against your car.
"Need some ice?" Kevin asked, having reentered.
"I'm fine," you quickly said, knowing that Jay and Will would be babying you about your face anyway.
"If you say so."
Jordan returned with the water and slid one to you. "Jay mad?" he asked his older brother.
"I mean, I told him Y/N was over here and that she has something to tell him and to not get mad at her."
"Great, that helps a lot," you replied sarcastically.
"I also told him we might have a case."
"Okay, so he knows it's bad then. I just don't wanna blow this out of proportion--"
"Girl, blow this outta proportion?" Jordan interrupted. "They're planning on assaulting you! I think you can blow this up however much you want!"
"I just don't wanna be the one to start this conversation," you admitted.
"We gotchu, girl, we gotchu," Kevin reassured you.
***
"You better have a good reason why you left the house-- without telling me I might add-- when you're grounded!" That was the first thing Jay yelled as Kevin let him into the house.
"Whoa, calm down, man. She's got a good reason to be here--"
"A good reason? A good reason being that she wanted to hang out with Jordan when I clearly stated that she was to come straight home after school!"
Roughly, he pulled a chair out from under the table to sit down across from you. You stayed staring at the wood of the table, not wanting to look him in the eye. "You have a good reason, Y/N?" he asked smugly. "Then look me in the eye and tell me that reason."
Jordan squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, which gave you the bit of confidence you needed to look your brother in the eyes. "I- there's these points and I was pushed and..." you ran your hands down your face in frustration, trying to stop your tears. "I can't do this."
"Is that a bruise forming on your cheek?" Jay asked as you removed your hands from your face, his eyes immediately softening. You nodded. "Care to elaborate?"
"A football player shoved me up against my car and then he- and then he grabbed my ass."
"Does this football player have a name?" he asked, looking to Jordan because he was on the football team.
"He does, but there's more and I'm gonna tell you that first because I don't think Y/N wants to."
"Thank you," you whispered to Jordan.
"So it's more than just a stupid kid playing grab-ass with my sister?" Jay asked, anger starting to seep out once more.
"There's point values attached to each grab," Jordan started. "Grab a girl, it's usually 50 points. Do some other things with her, there's more depending on what it is. Freshmen are strictly off-limits, so it's Y/N's first year dealing with it."
"How long has it been going on?"
"I think the game started totally five years ago. It happens for a month leading up to homecoming. Anyone on the varsity football team pays $10 to play, and whoever has the most points at the end of the month gets the money.
"And this year, they started a leaderboard online, where you can vote on doing different things. If it gets enough votes, it's up for grabs for points. And well, just take a look."
Jordan slid his open phone to Jay and he scrolled through the website, complete with a leaderboard. He looked at the most recent comments and scrolled to the beginning of the thread.
200 points if you can get the cop's sister to give you oral
Jay swallowed a lump in his throat as he read the title and continued to scroll.
100 for the actual act and another 100 if you get it on video
Deal
Deal
Definitely
Just don't get caught
She's small so it shouldn't be that hard
Think she had a crush on me last year, so this should be a piece of cake. Pay up boys
You're on, Evans
Then, he got to the comments after today's events had occurred.
Grabbed Halstead's ass in the parking lot and was so close to getting her keys, but Atwater stopped me. Buzzkill. It's gettin' close to hoco, so points for her are now up to 250
Eh, I'll just follow her home tomorrow and then get her before her brother gets home
Her lips will probably feel so good wrapped around me
Jay let out a shaky breath as he got to the end of the thread. "You're right, Kev. I think we might have a case on our hands. You wanna go home, Y/N?"
"I'm scared," you said as you looked up at your brother, tears streaming down your face. "What if they come to the house, Jay?"
"Y/N, I promise you that I will never, ever allow that to happen."
***
You were in the shower, but you could still make out the faint sound of Jay's voice. You didn't know who he was talking to, but you assumed it was either Will, Voight, or Hailey.
All the events of the past two weeks came down on you, crushing you like a ton of bricks. You knew this game was going to happen, but what you didn't know was that they going to do that 200, well now 250 points for you. At least, you hadn't known until Jordan told you and begged you to tell someone.
Since the start of this sick, twisted game, you made sure to wear something that always covered your butt, such as a long sweater or hoodie paired with jeans or leggings. But apparently, that didn't stop money-hungry and hormonal teenage boys.
The first time it happened, it was just a quick pinch when you were standing at your locker, nothing too alarming. Hell, you hadn't even known who it was. But then, once the 200 points were on the line, they started getting more and more aggressive, cornering you after lunch or after class, blocking you from exiting the locker bank.
You had heard the whispers of what Derek Evans planned to do, so you took matters into your own hands, hence stealing Jay's knife from the Rangers. People always said to go to the school, that they'd stop if enough people told. But, they never stopped. Girls had tried and tried last year, and nothing happened. Hell, you were so close to talking to the principal but were cornered right before walking into the main office, so you gave up. You figured you could just put up with it until it was over, despite how much anxiety simply going to school was now giving you.
You stepped out of the shower, dried off, and changed into your pajamas. Then, you glanced at yourself in the mirror: puffy and red eyes and cracked lips stared back at you. You hadn't even felt human since this thing started. You felt like a fucking object.
A fucking arcade game that told them that if they tried hard enough they'd win a damn prize.
The gut-wrenching sob that left your lips stopped Jay on his way to the kitchen. Jay made his way to the bathroom and knocked on the door, your sobs still ever-present.
"Y/N, can I come in? Please?" He asked quietly, using the voice he used when he had to talk to children on the job.
"I just wanna be a-alone right now J-Jay," you hiccupped.
Jay sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I can't let you do that. It's not healthy." He didn't get a response, so he just stood outside the bathroom, hoping you'd exit sooner rather than later.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. And your breathing just got shallower and shallower. "Are you dressed?" he asked.
It took you a moment, but somehow you managed to tell him that you were.
Your vision was starting to go blurry and your feet and fingers were starting to go numb. The sides of your head were pounding so much that you thought it was going to explode.
Jay took a paperclip and unfolded it, then pressed it into the knob until a click was heard. The door was heavier than he had expected, alerting him that you were slumped against it. You felt yourself being pushed forward, but at this point, you didn't even care since you were too focused on not passing out. But, if you did pass out you figured, at least your mind wouldn't wander to all the recent events.
"Y/N, Y/N, open those eyes for me, okay? Just look at me. Focus on me," Jay urged you after he had squeezed himself through the door and was now crouching down in front of you.
"C-Can't-- Open eyes-- hurts," you said through shallow and fast breaths.
"Okay. I'm gonna squeeze your hand. Just focus on the touch and try and follow my breathing."
"What-- if I-- pass-- out?"
"I won't let that happen. Now in, out, in, out. Good. Now I'm gonna add a second. In, out, in, out..."
You continued to focus on Jay's voice as you slowly but surely started to regain feeling in your feet and fingers.
"Can you open your eyes for me?" Jay asked, once your breathing had returned to a semi-normal state for a few cycles. Slowly, you opened your eyes but quickly closed them. "Head still hurt?"
"Yeah."
"That'll happen when not enough oxygen gets to the brain. You can even ask Will to fact check me." You heard the doorbell ring. "Speaking of Will..."
"You didn't."
"But I did. He brought food, too."
"Jay? Y/N? You here?" you heard Will yell from down the hallway after he entered the house.
"Bathroom!" Jay replied, causing you to wince due to how close he was to your ear. "Sorry."
"What the hell happened?" Will asked as he rushed to crouch down in front of you, going into doctor mode when he saw your eyes were clenched shut. There was a pause as Jay mouthed panic attack to his older brother. "Okay, well I'm gonna go get you some water, hopefully that'll make your head stop hurting and then I'll check out that cheek of yours."
"Do you have to?" you whined.
"Kid, one day you'll thank me for this."
"I doubt it," you mumbled.
Will came back with a glass of water and slid it into your hand, making sure that your hand was firmly wrapped around it before letting go. After waiting about a minute after you'd finished the water, you opened your eyes.
"Better?" Will asked.
"Better," you confirmed. "Thanks."
"That's what big brothers are for."
"So that means you don't have to go all doctor on me?"
"Ha, that was funny. Now, sit on the counter so I can take a look."
You pushed yourself off the floor and then onto the counter, Jay standing up after you to stand next to Will. Great, now you had two worried older brothers both looking at the same thing. At least they weren't both doctors.
"Damn, it's already bruising," Jay said as he looked on.
Will hand gently touched your cheek. "Tell me if anywhere hurts." He touched from your jaw up to your cheek bone, but the only place you told him that hurt was between the two and a bit at the bottom of your cheek bone.
"You're lucky," Will started, "You hit it just a bit higher I might have to take you in for x-rays to make sure you didn't bruise or fracture your cheek bone."
"No hospital?" you asked hopefully.
"No hospital," Will confirmed. "Just lots of ice."
"Come on, let's go get that food Will brought before it gets too cold...and the beer for me and him gets warm."
***
You walked into Intelligence with Jay the next morning, trying to think of anything but the worried looks you were getting. "It's okay to be scared," Jay told you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. "And, I'll be there the whole time."
"Do you have to?" you asked him.
"Because you're a minor and I'm your legal guardian, they can't talk to you unless I'm there. So, yes, I have to be with you."
"Hailey," Voight's raspy voice carried through the bullpen. "You go talk to Y/N. Ruzek, go talk to Jordan."
"Jordan's here?" you asked, looking up at Jay.
"Yeah. Kevin wanted him to give a statement, too. Said he can attest to all the stuff that was said in the locker room."
"Oh." You didn't want to think about the things that were said. If you thought what they were posting was bad, what they talked about in the locker room you knew would be ten times worse.
You followed Hailey into the breakroom. Despite being here dozens of times before, it felt odd to you this time, eerie, as it was waiting to gobble up your deepest and darkest secrets and fears and share them with the world.
Hailey sat across from you and Jay sat next to you. "Jay, I need you to read this over and sign it since Y/N's a minor." She slid two pieces of paper over to him and he glanced at them and quickly scribbled his signature.
Hailey gave him a look that said you're not gonna read it? "I've told parents what this says before. I know the drill." Hailey nodded and took the papers from him.
"Start from the beginning, Y/N. What happened with Derek Evans?" Hailey prompted.
"I have a question." Here goes nothing. Hailey nodded at you to continue while Jay furrowed his eyebrows. He had been over how this was going to work with you before you even stepped out of the house this morning to try and ease your nerves. "Does it matter?"
"Does what matter? What he did to you? Of course, it does," Hailey answered.
"No, sorry. That came out wrong. "Does it matter that I had a crush on him last year...and kinda into this year." The crush only lasted two months into this school year though, when you found out he had cheated on his current girlfriend. But last year, oh last year your crush was in full swing and you took every opportunity you could to talk to the then junior, and there was no fooling anyone in that school that you had been head over heels for him.
"I'm sorry. I'm not following," Hailey apologized.
"Since I had a crush on him and he knew it, couldn't he take that as I wanted this?"
"No. It's only consent if both parties agreed to it."
"But maybe me having a crush on him would make him think that."
Now, it was Jay's turn to speak. "Did you take health class yet?"
"No, I take it next semester. Why?"
"The teacher will talk about consent there, but I guess we're doing it now." He looked at Hailey to make sure this was okay and she nodded at him to continue. "What do you think has to happen for someone to not consent?"
"One of them has to say no or stop."
"Is that the only way to be sure?"
"I mean, I guess."
"See, that's where you're wrong. It's not consent if you slap his hand away. It's not consent if you're too drunk to say yes. Same for drugs. It's not consent if you're coerced into it. And, consent can be revoked at any time. Any time. To keep it simple for you to remember right now, it's only consent if you and him both said yes to this. And, I know you didn't say yes to what happened to you and what they were threatening to do to you."
"So, even though I didn't say stop or no right away when he pushed me up against my car and grabbed me, I still wasn't consenting?" you asked.
"No," Hailey answered. "Did he ask to grab your butt?"
"No."
"Therefore, there was no consent involved."
There was a knock on the door and Hailey got up to answer it. "Halstead, a word," Voight ordered, motioning for him to follow.
Jay glanced at you. "Hey, don't worry, kid. Everything will work out one way or another."
Jay followed Voight into his office and closed the door. "What's up, Sarge?"
"The kid who grabbed your sister, well he's 18, Jay. Just turned 18 last month."
"So, we can press more charges?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Since all we have are threats and Y/N's and Jordan's word against his, most we can do is forcible touching. If he had acted on the threat, then that'd be a different story."
"So, you're saying that she had to be forced to have oral sex with this ass to press more charges? The threats aren't enough? Even though we clearly have proof of the threats from that goddamn leaderboard."
"I know it's not ideal--"
Jay threw his hands up. "Ideal? It's ridiculous!"
Voight was about to say something, but was stopped by a knock on his office door. "Yeah?" he asked.
"Boss, we got a problem," Ruzek said as he entered.
"What type of problem?"
"The Evans kid? Yeah, well his dad's the president of the school board."
"You're kidding."
"Wish I was, Boss."
"Jay, go see if Y/N knew about this. The rest of us are gonna figure out how to proceed with this new information."
Jay was about to enter the breakroom, when his phone buzzed. It was Will.
Any news? the text read.
Other than the fact that the Evans kid's dad is the president of the school board and we only have enough to get him on forcible touching, no nothing new.
Jay didn't even think about the fact that he was sharing information about an open investigation. To him, this was just him talking to his brother about the case that involved his sister.
Jay held down the power button to turn his phone off and then walked back into the breakroom. "Anything?" Hailey asked.
"Uh, yeah. But let's finish interviewing Y/N first. I know we had to stop since I left."
Jay sat back down next to you and Hailey started questioning you once again.
"Did you know that this game was going to happen?" Hailey asked.
"Yeah, that's why I started wearing long sweaters and hoodies, to try and cover up my butt."
"Okay, and when it start to turn into more than grabs?"
"Um, one day Jordan called me after school and he told me that Derek was planning to get me to..." you trailed off, not wanting to say it.
"I know you think it's disgusting to say, Y/N, but I need you to say what he said to you."
You looked up at Jay, feeling like a five-year-old who was about to say a swear word. "It's okay. We won't laugh or get mad."
"He uh, Jordan told me that Derek was going to get me to give him a blowjob...even if he had to force me to do it."
A few tears ran down your face. Even though your brother was a cop, telling the actual cops in an actual statement made it that much more real.
"Do you want a break? Some water maybe?" Hailey asked.
"No, I'm fine. I just wanna get this over with."
"Okay. Did anyone try and tell the principal? Any teachers? Other adults?"
"Girls tried, they really did. They told Mr. White, the principal, but he said that they didn't have any proof. And, he also said that they were football players and that some of them had shots at scholarships for D1 schools. Why would we want to wreck that for them, is what he had asked us. And, Derek's dad is on the school board, so we knew that even if it went further than the principal and to the superintendent or school board, that nothing would happen.
"I was gonna try to tell Mr. White once, but I was cornered before I got into the main office, so I was scared."
You turned to Jay now. "I'm sorry. I should've told you when this all started but I didn't want to get made fun of or have more things happen at school because what if they canceled football and it was all my fault and--"
"You need to remember that you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing, you hear me?" you nodded. "And what White did, basically saying that boys will be boys, that makes me sick. And if I had a way to arrest him, I would."
"Thanks, Jay."
A comfortable silence fell over you before you explained everything else, like Derek shoving you against your car and forcibly grabbing your ass. You also explained how Jordan had said that he was planning on taking your keys so you'd have to have oral with him to get them back and how other players were planning on following you home.
After that, you were out in the bullpen, when Trudy Platt came up the stairs. "Hank, Halstead, I need you to go this address."
Platt handed Voight a piece of paper, which you're assuming had the address on it. "Why? This doesn't have to do with our case. Couldn't patrol do it?"
"I don't think Halstead would be pleased if I put his brother in lockup, so I figured I'd have you two go check it out," she answered.
"What did Will do?" you piped up before Jay could.
"Let's just say him and Derek Evans each got a few punches in," Trudy answered. "I thought you two could be the ones to go down and get him."
"Thanks, Trudy," Voight said as he started to walk downstairs. But, he stopped when he noticed that Jay wasn't following.
"Uh, Hailey," Jay called. "Could you maybe take Y/N to Will's house while I do this? I just don't want her at home in case they somehow got our address."
"Yeah, no problem," Hailey answered, taking the spare key Jay handed her.
You four walked down the stairs and then each headed your separate ways. Once Jay and Voight were in the car, Voight turned to him. "Care to tell me how Will found the name and address?"
"Sarge, I have absolutely no idea." And then he remembered the text he sent. "Oh, oh shit. Listen, it was an accident. He asked me if we had any new information, and I told him that Derek was 18 and he must've just went from that. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. To me, this isn't just an investigation, it's an investigation that involves my sister and I was just giving information to my brother without thinking about the legal ramifications."
"I get it, Jay. I did the same thing with Justin."
"Are we really arresting him?"
"No, but we are gonna have a chat with Derek and his father."
***
"I want to press charges!" Derek Evans' dad yelled when Jay and Hank rolled up to the scene. "This man assaulted my son!"
"Yeah? Well, your son assaulted my sister, so I think it's even!" Will spat back.
"Let's just take a moment to talk this out," Voight said, stepping between the two.
"I won't talk until you put this man in handcuffs!"
Voight turned and nodded at Jay. "Sarge, you can't be--"
"I am serious, Jay. Now do it and bring him to the car. Now."
Jay gritted his teeth and put Will's hands behind his back. "You have the right to right to remain silent. If you give up this right, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. If you do not have the money to afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been told to you?" Jay recited as he led Will to the car.
"Yes. Jay, what are you--"
"Just go with it," Jay hissed in his ear, causing his older brother to shut up.
Jay put Will in the back of the car and then got in the passenger seat. "Now, in a second I'm going to take these off and then I'm gonna go inside and talk to them with Voight. Do not, under any circumstances, get out of the car. You understand me?"
"Yeah, now can you get these off me? You put 'em on real tight, Jay."
Jay smirked as he took Will out of the car and undid his cuffs. "Payback for all the times you poked me with a needle." Then, he looked at Will's face. "Looks like the kid got a few good punches on you. There's gonna be a real nice shiner there," he joked.
"Shut up and go finish your job." Will rolled his eyes as Jay put the cuffs back in his pocket and left Will in the car.
When Jay walked into the Evans' residence he saw Derek, Derek's dad, and Hank all sitting down at the kitchen table. "Now, we know that your son has threatened to force himself on a girl at school, so this can go one of two ways," Voight started as Jay stood behind him. "We can either contact the media and tell them all about this little game he and his teammates like to play, but that he took a step too far, which would ensure he doesn't get into a good college. Or, you could transfer him out of his current high school and to a new one and this doesn't get out to the press. Your choice."
"You don't have enough to charge him, so why would I pull my son out of school his senior year?"
"Because, once word gets out, well no college wants a guy with a history of sexual assault on their football team. It sets a bad image."
"It's not like I even did anything!" Derek protested, while still trying to hold the ice pack to his lip that Will had busted open.
"Oh, didn't do anything? Let me enlighten you. You got the pictures, Sarge?" Jay asked.
"Got 'em right here."
Voight laid all the pictures of the leaderboard and the messages about you on the table. "The girl who Derek said he wanted to get oral sex from? That guy in the back of our car right now is her brother. Now, do you understand why the fight broke out, Mr. Evans?"
Derek's dad looked back and forth between the pictures and his son, trying to figure out how his son could do this. "Derek, did you say these things?"
"Oh, he did more than say. He slammed the girl up against her car and forcibly grabbed her backside," Jay said, not wanting to admit he was your brother or else there would be a conflict of interest in this encounter. And, even though Derek knew, Jay was the one with a gun so he figured the best idea would be to not piss him off.
Voight laid the picture of your bruised cheek on the table. "This is what happened because of that. She's lucky she didn't break her cheekbone."
"I'm- I'm sorry," Derek finally spoke up. "It was just supposed to be a fun game that we bet some money on who could get the most points."
"A game? A game is football. This is bordering on assault. We are far from a game," Jay told him.
"So, what's it gonna be? Take Derek out of school and transfer him or do I call the media? You have five seconds," Voight told him, pulling out his phone to silently tell them that he wasn't bluffing.
Derek's eyes widened. "I'll transfer! I'll transfer!"
"Derek, we need time to think about this--"
"No, Dad, I need a shot at a scholarship to go D1."
"Then it's settled. Thank you for your time."
Jay and Voight left the house and went back to the car. "What's the verdict?" Will asked.
"He's transferring schools," Voight answered and handed the folder of evidence photos to Jay.
"Why are you giving these to me?"
Voight shrugged. "Do with them what you want, Halstead. I wouldn't blame you, no one would."
***
"Hailey, can you give me and Y/N a second?" Jay asked as you entered you house and shrugged off your coats.
"Of course."
"You can stay out here. We'll talk in Y/N's room," Jay said.
You walked down the hall and went into your room and sat on your bed. "So, what's up? Did you arrest Derek?"
"Unfortunately, we didn't have enough evidence to do that."
You looked down at your hands. "But then it's just gonna keep happening, Jay. I don't wanna go back there."
"Back where?" he asked, sitting next to you.
"To school, it'll just be worse."
"Hey, no it won't because he's transferring schools."
"But the other boys will just keep doing it, Jay. I'm terrified."
"Hey, hey look at me." You looked up at Jay, trying to stop yourself from crying. "That will not happen, I can promise you that."
"But you don't know that."
"Just trust me on this one."
"Okay," you whispered.
"And one more thing," Jay started. "If it didn't already go without saying, you're ungrounded because I'm assuming you brought that knife to school to use in case anything happened. And, with what happened yesterday, I can't say I blame you."
"Thanks, I figured as much."
"Now, next time you need something for self-defense, we're just gonna get you some pepper spray."
"Good idea."
"Let's go back out to Hailey and you two can look at Pinterest or whatever for dresses or whatever it is girls do with that stuff."
***
The next morning, you woke up to message after message about school. There were links sent you entitled Football Player Assaults Girl Outside of School Because of a Bet and Principal of a Chicago High School Resigns Because of Complaints from Girls about the Football Team Sexually Harassing Them, but He Didn't do Anything about It.
You could not believe it. Just 48 hours ago you were freaking out about having to go to school for fear of a guy grabbing you or doing something worse. And now, you could go to school and feel comfortable. And, those boys wouldn't do anything else and if something did happen, you'd be able to tell the assistant principal--who was now acting principal--about what was happening and have something actually be done about it.
"Jay!" you yelled as you ran into the kitchen, almost bumping into him.
"Whoa, slow down! I almost spilled hot coffee on you!" he laughed as he set his mug down on the table and turned back to you.
"Sorry, sorry. Have you seen this? Someone leaked the leaderboard and now Mr. White resigned! I'll actually be able to focus in class now!" You slid the phone to him and he looked at the titles in the notifications. "I just wonder who did it."
"Told you I'd handle it." Then, he took a sip of his coffee.
"Oh my God, you were the one who leaked it?" Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Couldn't that get him in trouble?
"I never said that."
"You just sipped your coffee like that Kermit and the sips tea meme, so yeah, I think you did," you playfully argued.
"Well, technically, it wasn't me. I just passed on a copy of the pictures to a CI of mine, whose cousin happens to work for the Chicago Sun-Times."
"Bye-bye college football for all these assholes."
"And the city's a safer place because of it."
"Hey, what do I always say: Go save Chicago."
"Team effort. And this time, Y/N, you got to play a part in that team."
A/N: I know it's been almost a month since I've posted an imagine, but school is busy and I'm writing long imagines, which usually take me a week to write, so that's why.  Oh, and happy Valentine's Day (bc that's in like 2 days). Go cuddle with your boyfriend/girlfriend if you have one. Or, if you're single (like me) go read some cute fluffy fanfiction and eat all the chocolate!
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angryschnauzer · 3 years
Text
Jingle My Bells
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Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr​, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.
Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife
Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).
Gif by @littlefreya​ and used with her kind permission.
Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.
Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites​. I don’t run a tag list.
Jingle My Bells
Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.
And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.
"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;
"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"
"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.
Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;
"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"
"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa" 
With a groan your husband released you;
"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"
-
Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;
"Hennn…." You purred
"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"
"Are you free this afternoon?"
He sighed over dramatically;
"What do you need?"
"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"
Henry let out a snort of laughter;
"I've met your class… some of them are…"
"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"
"Hmmmmnn"
"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"
Henry sighed;
"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"
“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”
He sighed;
“Okay, make it thirty minutes”
-
If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.
By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.
When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk. 
Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;
“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”
Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;
“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”
You wriggled on your lap;
“Oh I've been Naughty…”
Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;
“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;
“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.
You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;
“Hen! We’re at school!”
“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”
His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;
“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”
Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;
“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”
“Tights” you corrected
“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”
Grinning you turned your head;
“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”
Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;
“Really?”
“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”
With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body. 
Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;
“C’mon, lets get home”
Taking a deep breath you smiled;
“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”
Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;
“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you
“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”
The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;
‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’
Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;
“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”
You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.
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dadsbongos · 3 years
Text
late night for a sinner
Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: religious overtones cuz it’s this movie, described and enacted violence (against teagardin), preston teagardin (and all his sexual assault-y/manipulative bs) Notes: uhm people got married at like 20 in the 50s and i assume arvin is about 20 so no i will not apologize for making you his wife, my country-accent writing is bad(?) idk Summary: Arvin’s a protective man, especially when it comes to those he loves. ~~~
“Somethin’ ‘bout that preacher don’t feel right,” (Y/n) murmured to her husband as they stood outside the doors of the church, “Gives me a shiver right up my spine.”
Arvin nodded along to her words, watching as his grandmother and sister shook hands with Preston Teagardin - fancy name for a guy like him. A guy who gave women chills. He reached into his dress pants pocket and plucked out a cigarette before placing it between his lips, “Watch yourself around him, darlin’.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for Lenora, too,” (Y/n) crossed over the creaky boards of the church's stoop as people began exiting, her hands coming out for the man’s tie, “Did you loosen this durin' the sermon?”
“Too tight,” he let the woman adjust his tie, “You know how I feel ‘bout comin’ to these things.”
“I know, I know - hey, I don’t like comin’ either, but it means a lot to Ms. Emma and Lenora,” pulling back from the tie, (Y/n) placed her hands on Arvin’s shoulders, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta watch for that blasted preacher, and I think we’re the only ones who will.”
Removing the cigarette from between his lips, Arvin leaned over to kiss his wife’s forehead, pulling away to ask, “You take my light outta my pocket when you pressed my pants this morning?”
“Maybe I did,” she shrugged, grinning, “Maybe even I think you shouldn’t be smokin’ outside a church.”
“Maybe,” Arvin nodded, “Maybe.”
Emma and Lenora finally came out of the church and started towards the family’s truck, the two women got into the back with Arvin and (Y/n) getting into the front to finally head home. Lenora leaned forward as her brother started the truck, “You shoulda been in there for the goodbyes.”
“Oh?” turning her head and leaving her cheek pressed to the headrest, (Y/n) quirked a brow at the teenager, “What happened?”
“Reverend Teagardin said he’s interested in meeting you,” Lenora beamed at her sister-in-law.
“Just her?” Arvin pulled out of the church parking lot, “Seatbelt, Lenora.”
“I got it, I got it,” the girl waved off before returning to her previous conversation, “But yeah, just (Y/n). He was talkin’ about putting together a church choir. Thinks (Y/n) would have a pretty voice.”
“She’s got a pretty voice but she ain’t singin’ for no church choir,” Arvin’s brows furrowed, white-knuckling the steering wheel at the mere idea of that damned preacher trying to get close to his wife, “Not in that man’s church choir.”
“Let the girl speak for herself,” Emma cut in, “Thought I raised you better than that.”
Pursing his lips, Arvin turned to (Y/n) for a split second before returning his stare to the road, “Sorry, love.”
“It’s okay, baby,” she looked back to her sister-in-law, “You singin’ in the choir, Lenora?”
“I’d love to try.”
Clenching her jaw, (Y/n) thought over her choices. Leave Lenora to sing in that choir - leave her sweet, naive little sister-in-law in that preacher’s hands for far longer than was typical or wanted… Or, suck it up and sing for the bastard.
“I’ll sing with ya, sweetheart.”
Arvin sighed quietly, glad none of the women in the car heard him over the rumbling of the truck’s old engine. To distract himself, and by proxy the women in the car, he suddenly changed the topic, “This damn old truck. Gonna hafta fix it up or take it in.”
“You’re gonna take it in?” (Y/n) tilted her head.
“Thing’s old; I’ll do as much as I can, darlin', but sometimes there’s only so much I can do. You know that.”
“I’ll need to go with you,” the truck jumbled with the rocky bumps of their home’s pull-in, “Pick up a few things for dinner.”
Lenora felt her heart warm and lips quirk into a smile at her brother and sister-in-law. They weren’t so into the church as her and Grandma, in fact - Lenora’s certain they only played along to please her and Grandma, but watching them was nice. Nothing to play along to, just a simple, pure expression of adoration between the couple. Arvin was never a man known for something as soft and tender as love but (Y/n), since the two were in grade school, was easily able to pull it out of him.
From high school sweethearts into married lovers. It was overjoying to know someone else was looking after Arvin.
“I’ll check up on Mr. Earskell and be right out.”
“No, no, (Y/n),” Emma shook her head, taking the woman’s hand as she was assisted out of the truck, “I’ll handle things. You and Arvin go on and stay out here.”
She didn’t bother fighting against the older woman, she was the matriarch of the family - she was just the rule maker. It was only fair.
“You don’t hafta keep callin’ em Miss and Mister,” Arvin came out and around to the hood of the truck, “They’re part a’ your family now.”
“Feels improper,” (Y/n) rebuffed, standing beside her husband, “I’m just thankful they’re lettin’ me stay here.”
“And why wouldn’t they?” he knew why she felt that way - her own family was insufferable and he could barely stand being around them for a dinner - he couldn’t imagine having to live with them.
“Let’s not open that can of worms today, huh, love?” (Y/n) placed her hands on her hips as she watched her husband look over the truck’s interior and drag over his tools and oil.
“Don’t joke ‘bout that, love,” despite his words, Arvin was smiling slightly, “Poor fishermen work hard to get those worm cans.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” she sarcastically relented, peeking over the man’s shoulder, “Wish I knew anything to help you.”
“I could teach you a thing or two.”
“Maybe not now, baby.”
Which, of course, was code for ‘I’d rather not. Ever.’ but politely.
There was silence between the married couple as Arvin worked until he sighed and planted his hands on each side of the open hood, head hanging low as he murmured, “You’re really goin’ to that choir?”
“We both know I gotta be there for Lenora.”
“I appreciate that, but I’ll still be worried to hell ‘bout you,” he turned to face his wife, restraining himself cupping her cheeks and smearing grime over her, “Both a' you,” then he finally admitted as to why he was so apprehensive, “I’ve been watchin’ him.”
“You what…?!” she whisper-screamed, coming in closer to her husband, “Arvin Eugene Russell, you been what?”
“Watchin’ him,” Arvin almost regrets the admission at the sight of his wife’s shock, “He’s a no-good-sonofabitch, (Y/n). Messin’ around with a young girl behind his wife’s back. She’s good to him, (Y/n), she cooks him dinner and she does her best to keep him happy. He’s no good to her. He’s no good, at all.”
(Y/n)’s brows furrow, “Cheatin’ on his wife?”
“A girl from Lenora’s class. He’s worse than a cheater,” he turned back to the hood of the truck and quickly said, “We’re takin’ it in.”
“Why haven’t you said anything yet?”
“Nobody will ever believe me, (Y/n), you know that. Everybody here loves that damn radio bullshitter.”
Nodding quietly, (Y/n) fisted a hand in her skirt before turning towards the home’s door, “I’ll tell Lenora we’re goin’.”
The topic is ultimately dropped as they leave into town. As they take the truck in for the shop and as they pick out items for dinner that night and even on the walk home. Reverend Preston Teagardin didn’t come up again, neither did his affairs or his disgustingly, sickeningly low age preference for said affairs.
They weren’t the only people in town on watch of their new preacher in town, they were just another young couple walking home.
Even as dinner passed and time for rest came - as they pressed into bed and huddled together in the cold night. Teagardin was temporarily forgotten, pushed to the backs of their minds as they slipped into slumber.
And when Arvin darts up from bed after another nightmare over finding his father’s body that fateful night, (Y/n)’s thoughts are solely on her husband. Bringing him back into the present, where he’s not in the woods finding his father knelt down in front of their makeshift church but instead in bed with his loving wife. With his sister down the hall. His grandmother at the end of the corridor and his great-uncle's own room across from theirs. He’s in a home that isn’t going anywhere - he’s with people who won’t leave him, not any time soon anyway.
It’s not until the next day, after Lenora’s first day back at school for the week had finished and her daily visit to Hellen Hatton-Laferty was over, that Teagardin even peeked back into the couple’s brains.
“If that sonofabitch touches you or Lenora, tell me,” Arvin whispered to his wife, hands holding hers tightly before she went into the church for choir practice, “I’ll make sure ain't got no hands to touch you, or Lenora, or any other unlucky woman.”
“I’ll come right to you, honey,” (Y/n) was quick to confirm for her husband, “Promise.”
“Good,” he cups his wife’s cheeks and pulls her into a tender forehead kiss before going to his sister and giving her a tight hug, “Be the loudest one there, got it?”
Lenora chuckled quietly, patting her brother’s shoulder, “You know I can’t do that.”
“You can.”
Shaking her head, (Y/n) goes up the stairs and pulls one of the double doors open, “You just shouldn’t, ain’t that right, Arvin?”
A teasing shrug and he’s walking off towards the car while Lenora follows her sister-in-law up and into the church.
Teagardin is sitting in one of the pews with his back turned towards the two women.
There’s nobody else in the church despite having been told this was the meeting time. It’s silent. Preston still hasn’t turned to the two.
Lenora is fidgeting beside (Y/n) the longer the man stays quiet. The younger girl nervously bunching the skirt of her dress in her fists. Her brows drawn tight in confusion and lips pressed into a thin line.
(Y/n) steps forward, ignoring the nerves urging her to run and encouraging her knees to buckle underneath the weight of her body, “We’re here, preacher.”
His head lifted, a smile coming over his lips, an unnatural smile - one she’d imagined on the devil when he tricked another soul into his claws. Preston comes to a full stand and approaches the women, “I didn’t expect both of you to come.”
“I wanted to support Lenora.”
“How wonderful.”
~~
“Preacher’s dirty.”
“What?”
(Y/n) sighed, sitting up in bed and looking down at her husband and whispering into the night air, “Teagardin. He’s just as dirty as you said.”
Immediately, Arvin was also sat up, no longer tired and now entirely focused on his wife, “What happened?”
“Tried touchin’ Lenora ‘til I stopped him. Grabbed me. I got us out of there and now Lenora’s tryin' to figure out how to tell Ms. Emma.”
Arvin stood out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers, slipping on a shirt and his hat before heading to the bedroom door and slipping out of the room. (Y/n) followed after, eyes wide and brain springing into panic as she watched him tug on his shoes. Hurriedly, the woman put her shoes on as well while Arvin snuck out of the home, her continuing to follow after him.
Once they were in the car, (Y/n) turned to Arvin as he pulled out of the driveway, “What the hell are you doin’? It’s late, you can settle this tomorrow, can't ya?”
“No. It don’t matter if he’s with his wife or at the church, I’m puttin’ that bastard in his place. I hope that woman leaves his ass,” he shook his head, “Rotten fuckin’ bastard.”
“What’re you gonna do?”
The man was silent as he drove towards where he knew the Teagardin residence was. Every few minutes he would take off his cap and run a hand through his matted hair - if he could force himself to do so, he could almost pretend this was a nice drive with his wife. A simple late-night cruise through town with the love of his life, but then he would remember exactly why they were on a late-night cruise. A peek at (Y/n) would remind him, she must be frightened to all hell - it must’ve been awful to be in that church. Be near that rotten man.
And Arvin’s rage was freshly re-lit.
“Is this the right time?” she remembered each time her husband had repeated the phrase from his father, it was usually enough to sway him from acting out at that moment.
“Best time there is. He’s asleep - won’t be expectin’ us.”
(Y/n) settled into her passenger side seat, turning her head to stare out the window, “How’re you gonna get him out?”
Arvin was silent once again, fingers tight against the steering wheel as they pulled up to the bend at the end of the preacher’s street. He got out of the car and stormed towards the Teagardin home with (Y/n) trailing after.
It wasn’t long until Preston came stumbling out of his home with Arvin banging on the front door. Cynthia was out soon after her husband, clinging to the door frame.
“Late night for a sinner, kids,” Preston rubbed at his eyes, “Can this wait ‘til the mornin’?”
“You try touchin’ Lenora?” Arvin was blunt, he didn’t like sugar coating and he didn’t like the people who did it. Turning, he gestured to (Y/n), “Tried touchin’ my (Y/n)?”
Immediately, Preston’s eyes widened, “Now, now, I- I didn’t do nothin’ to those two.”
“Callin’ my wife a liar?”
Cynthia looked between her husband and the younger couple on her lawn, “What’s this about, Preston?”
“You just go inside now, Cynthia!” the preacher called back to his wife, “These two are full of delusions!”
“Arvin, let’s just head home now - you can take care of this tomorrow…”
Shaking his head, Arvin only approached the older man further, “My wife ain’t no liar. And those hands ain’t free of sin.”
“Go inside, Cynthia!” Preston shouted at his wife once again before turning back to the other man, “You won’t say nothing. I will have your lives ruined. Who will the town trust? Me, or two scruffy children who married straight outta high school?” he gives a forced chuckle, shaking his head and pointing at (Y/n) with a shaky hand, “Your wife… she- she… your wife is delusional. She’s crazy.”
Arvin Russell had been fighting nearly his entire life - he learned from his father and he continued on far after his father passed. Preston Teagardin had never been an athletic boy nor had he been confrontational by any means, preferring to hide in the shadows and smile his way out of trouble.
It wasn’t a mystery as to how Arvin managed to land Preston on the hard ground, chest pressing into the dirt and hands tightly wound behind his back in Arvin’s hold.
He didn’t know what he was looking for in the man. He didn’t know what he wanted from the preacher. He couldn’t kill the bastard - he still had a sister and wife to look after when his grandmother and uncle could no longer. Was it admission? Was it a promise to not even look at the women of Knockemstiff? It wasn’t an apology, he knew that - because there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be giving out forgiveness.
“You take back what you said,” Arvin grunted out, pushing his body harshly into Preston’s back and hoping it’d hurt as much as when boys did it to him on the playground, “You take back what you said about my wife, you hear me?”
“She’s crazy!”
Arvin took a hand into the preacher's hair and smushed his face deep into the dirt, “If I- “ when Teagardin’s whining got too loud, Arvin let his head up before roughly smashing it back into the ground, “Fuckin’ listen when I talk. You listenin’?” he waited for a nod of confirmation before continuing, “If I even hear your name in the same sentence as my wife’s or my sister’s, I’ll bash your fuckin’ brains in, hear me?”
“Arvin!” (Y/n) finally screamed out to her husband, hands landing on one of his arms and pulling, “Arvin, you let him go!”
“He deserves this, (Y/n)!”
“I know, but dammit Arvin, you’re gonna get the sheriff on you, let’s go home!”
Giving one last thunk of Preston’s skull into the ground, Arvin stood and kicked the man’s ribs before nodding at Cynthia with a brief ‘goodnight ma’am’ and returning to the car.
“That was a dumb thing you just did, Arvin Russell,” (Y/n) scolded, rather lightly, as her husband drove.
“I don’t regret a damn thing about it, (Y/n) Russell.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” she reached over and snatched his cap before fixing it over her own head, “I’m proud my husband cares so much.”
“Least I could do for the woman of my dreams.”
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purselover2 · 3 years
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Title: Going Once, Going Twice…….
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: None that I can see, but please let me know if there are and I will add them.
This is for @amythedvdhoarder. Happy Hoelentine’s Day!!! I hope you like it. Its based off a picture I found of Seb and Hemsworth. I used my magic brain waves to turn them into Bucky and Thor and this is the result.
Mood board by the amazing @constantwriter85
❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜
As you stood backstage watching the other models get ready you found yourself wondering not for the first time why you were here. Surely there was someone who could have filled the spot left vacant when Maria got called away on an assignment. But no, they had come to you, said you had to, it was for the puppies and damn if you could ever resist helping puppies. Or the kitties, or any other animal. So that’s how you found yourself backstage getting stuffed into an evening gown that cost a small fortune getting your hair primped and your makeup caked on waiting to go on stage and walk down a runway, trip and fall more like it, to hopefully sell the high end clothes you wore to the highest bidder.
If that alone didn’t make you nervous there was the other part of the auction, the bidder got to take the model out on a date wearing said outfit. There was no way anyone was going to bid on you. You weren’t popular, not even an agent. You were the IT girl, you know the one no one pays attention too until something breaks.
“Hey y/n! You look amazing.” Nat said and she and Wanda joined you. “Don’t be nervous. You’re going to do fantastic.”
“Yes. This is going to be a great night. We’re going to save all the puppies!” Wanda was way too happy.
“Thats easy for you two to say. You have guaranteed bidders. No way are Bruce and Vision going to let you two go without bidding. I’m the one who’s gotta stand up there and hope for a pitty bid.” You said.
“I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” Wanda hugged you.
“Yeah, you never know, Mr. Right could be here tonight.” Nat agreed.
“Well lets hope he doesn’t get held up trying to find a parking space.” You joked. You made your way over the curtain and peaked out. There on the front row was the one person you never expected to see at a charity fashion show. Bucky Barnes sitting right next to Thor dressed like a million bucks. What the hell? Could this get any worse? It was bad enough to embarrass yourself in front of the other Avengers, but you at least taken comfort in knowing that the one Avenger you had a secret crush on, wouldn’t be there to witness your humiliation. But no, fate had other plans. There he was front and center sitting next to the fucking god of thunder who couldn’t hold a candle to Bucky in your book.
“Hey y/n.” The backstage coordinator announced. “You’re going to be the last one to walk okay?”
“Yeah sure.” You thought maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, maybe everyone would just leave after they bid and you wouldn’t have to even walk on. Walking over to the puppies and kitties that the rescue had brought to show off and hopefully get adopted you saw a white kitty that looked as nervous and out of place as you did. Bending over you picked it up and began to pet it.
“Well hey there little one, you look like you want to be here as much as I do.”
You saw Nat come back through the curtain and hand the puppy she took on stage over to a handler and you motioned for her. “How did you do?”
Taking her hands and smoothing them down her dress she shook her ass and replied. “A date with me cost the gentleman $5000.”
“Damn girl you go. Bruce is a lucky man.” You winked.
“Who said it was Banner?” She smiled.
“That smile.” You giggled. “Here comes Sharon. I’m guessing she took some of Cap’s social security check tonight.”
“Those age jokes never get old.” Nat laughed. “Hey Sharon, how much did grandpa spend?”
“$5000!” She yelled. “He got into a bidding war with some guy from the Pentagon. Apparently Steve doesn’t like to loose.” She chuckled.
“Great a bidding war.” You held the kitty tighter as you stroked its fur.
“Y/N! You’re up.” The handler bellowed.
“You go girl!” Nat said pushing you forward. Wanda high fived you and Sharron patted you on the shoulder.
You stood just to the left of the stage and waited for the MC to announce you.
“And now ladies and gentlemen, its time for our final model. Please welcome to the stage Ms. Y/F/N, Y/L/N!
The curtain parted and you took the first step, then another then you realized that with the lights in your eyes you couldn’t see anyone in the audience. This was perfect. You’d just pretend you were out for a walk holding a cat and everything would be fine. You had already during rehearsal counted the number of steps to the end of the runway. You’d walk down, stop, let them get a good look at the dress and the cat and turn around, walk back and not see a single face. Especially Bucky’s.
You counted the steps and reached the end. Stopping you made a point of petting the kitty and it nuzzled your face and tried to curl up closer to you, taking a pink tipped paw and placing it on your lips drawing an awe from the audience and a few chuckles. You took the moment to snuggle him some more and then hold him out for everyone to see. Finally you turned and walked back down the stage to the MC.
Once you reached him, you stopped and stood waiting for the torture to begin.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, lets start the bidding shall we. Do I hear an opening bid?”
You braced yourself expecting to hear silence, when out of the crowd you heard a familiar voice yell, “$1000!” This was a dream. There was no way Bucky Barnes was bidding a $1000 to take you out.
“I have $1000, do I hear $2000?” The MC continued
“$2000!” Came a voice from the other side of the stage. Squinting you could just make out the smirk on Brock Rumlow’s face. Great. He had asked you out a couple of times and you had politely tuned him down. He gave you the creeps in a major way and you didn’t want within ten feet of him.
“I have $2000, do I hear $3000?”
“$3000.” Came Bucky’s reply.
“$4000.” Brock countered without even waiting on the MC.
“$5000.” Bucky returned.
“Well it looks like we have quite the bidding war here tonight ladies and gentlemen.” The MC was obviously unable to contain his excitement. “I have $5000, do I hear $6000?”
“$7000!” Brock yelled.
“The bidding stands at $7000, do I hear $8000?” The MC asked. You couldn’t believe this.
“$10,000!” Bucky yelled louder and you almost hit the floor. Holy shit, ten thousand dollars. That was going to go a long way to help the puppies and the kitties. In your arm your new fury friend must have sensed your nerves because he again started rubbing your face. Taking your hand and rubbing his ears, you waited.
“$10,000 ladies and gentlemen! This is indeed a record setting bid. Do I hear another bid?” He motioned to Brock, who took a moment before shaking his head no and you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Relief that you wouldn’t have to endure a night with Brock Rumlow, only to relize that it meant you’d be enduring a night with Bucky Barnes. Even if it was a different kind of enduring.
The crowd went crazy as the grand total for the evening was announced and you made your way back stage, where Wanda, Sharon and Nat were all waiting for you.
“Oh my god girl!” Wanda exclaimed.
“And here you were worried about no one bidding.” Nat teased you.
“I’m so excited for you.” Sharon replied. “I swear to God though if Rumlow had won I would have insisted on a double date so that you didn’t have to be alone with him. That guy is major creep.”
“I was scared there for a while. But damn, how did that even happen? Why in the world would Bucky Barnes ever want to go out with me?” You shook your head at the thought, not noticing the girls looking over your shoulder as someone approached.
“Well doll, I can give you about ten thousand reasons if you really want to know.” You heard Bucky say from behind you.
Turning around you saw him standing there with the other Avengers as they came to collect the other ladies. As each couple paired off and made their way to the door you suddenly found yourself alone with Bucky. You still had the cat in your arms and he was sleeping contently.
“Hi Bucky.” You smile at him. “Thank you for not letting Rumlow win.”
“You’re welcome, but if you think that’s the only reason I did this, then I have some making up to do.” Bucky walked closer to you and used his flesh finger to stroke the cat on top of the head.
“Making up to do?” You asked.
“Yeah, I thought you knew that I wanted to ask you out.” He explained.
“Uh you did?”
“Yeah. I just never thought you’d go. So Thor talked me in to coming tonight and taking my chances. His thought was that if you had to go out with me, it would give me a chance to show you what a great guy I am, his words not mine, and that I could woo you.” Bucky chuckled at the last part.
“Woo me?” You giggled. “Well, I appreciate the effort to impress me, but you could have saved yourself some money and just asked me out the old fashioned way. I would have said yes.”
“Yeah?” He looks at you.
“Yeah.” You answer. “BUT now that you’ve told me about this mighty plan you and the god of thunder have cooked up, I’m wanting to see it play out.” You move to walk towards the handler to give the cat back. “Let me just give this little guy back and we can go.”
“No need.” Bucky tells you and you look at him. “I adopted him. He’s obviously a very smart fellow for picking you to cuddle up to. I only hope he can teach me his moves so that I can get some cuddles.” Bucky took him from your arms so you could find your coat and bag.
“Cuddles, Sargent Barnes come AFTER the proper wooing, not before.” You replied as you walked off.
“Well then let the wooing commence.” He said following after you.
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atsumiyass · 3 years
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Bakusquad during christmas
here’s a lil something for christmas since i’m feelin in the spirit - venus
warnings: fluff, platonic relationships
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Katsuki Bakugou
Bakugou would definitely take on cooking duty.
We all know mans can cook BOMB ASS FOOD.
He literally wouldn't let anyone else take on the job so...
But I feel like if you tried to help out he wouldn’t care as much
Bc he has a soft spot for you, ofc.
Also bc he knows you can cook pretty good as well.
So you both spend the afternoon cooking together.
Which turned out to be fun...
Apart from when you almost burned down the whole dorm building but we dont talk about that.
Once you finished putting away the food for tomorrow, you had the amazing idea of watching a Christmas movie to get into the spirit and relax after all your hard work.
it took some begging, but he finally agreed.
as long as you watched whatever he wanted, of course
but i mean who were you to say no to Bakugou
so
you made your way to his dorm since he had a tv and you didn’t
lucky prick
he put the disc in and you both settled on the wall where his bed was, a few feet apart from each other
but you’re y/n, and you’re in desperate need of attention
and it was cold
and Bakugou just happened to be a couple feet away
so the only logical option would be to snuggle up next to him
it took some courage but when you did, he surprisingly didn’t mind
he actually put his arm around you.
you took the chance and snuggled in closer.
soft Bakugou was a once in a lifetime experience, you had to take advantage of it.
especially since he would never act like this in front of the others
“so do you think they’ll like the food?” you asked, looking up at him.
“hell yeah they will, we made it didn’t we?” He replied, not looking away from the screen.
you smiled and turned back to the movie.
This Christmas was gonna be one to remember, thats for sure.
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Eijirou Kirishima
This baby is on christmas tree duty
he asked you to tag along tho, for support
and bc he has a lil crush on you but you didn’t hear it from me (;
you both get to the common area and take a look at the empty Christmas tree
its huge.
like,
as tall as the ceiling huge.
you might have to call Uraraka for this one
you looked at each other like
“this is gonna take awhile.”
so you both get to work, first stringing the multi-colored lights around the tree
luckily they didn’t get all tangled up in the tree, so it didn’t take that long
(you actually ended up calling Uraraka to help you since it was so high up)
Once that was done, you continued on with the tinsel.
which ended up in it all getting tangled from you both fooling around.
in the trash it goes.
Next was the ornaments.
They varied from red, to white, to even hero themed ones.
you started from the bottom this time, not wanting to get Uraraka again
you decided to turn on some christmas music to set the mood since you both were just sitting in awkward silence for a hot minute
i hc that kiri get shy around his crush pls
so once you got the perfect spotify playlist going you went back to working on the tree, humming along to the song.
little did you know Kirishima was on the other side of the tree, having an internal conflict.
does he talk to you? does he make a joke? does he not say anything? does he-
“hey do we have anymore red ones?” he heard your voice, making him breathe a sigh of relief.
“yeah here..” he said going to grab one.
but ofc you didn’t hear him
so you also went to go grab one
and just like those cheesy romance movies
your hand landed on top of his.
you both looked up at each other and quickly pulled your hands back.
You felt your face heat up as you nervously laughed and picked up the ornament, making your way back to your side of the tree.
my shy, oblivious babies tsk tsk 
Soon enough you finished all the ornaments and stood back to observe your work.
it honestly looked really good.
“wow Eji, it looks great dontcha think?” you asked, turning towards him.
“Yeah we did a super good job! great work y/n!” He said, giving you his signature sharky smile along with a thumbs up
your heart: doki doki
Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head
you had forgotten the star!!!
the most important part!!!!!
wtf y/n smh do better
you dug around in the christmas box for the star, which you soon found.
“hey could you go get Ochaco again? we gotta put up the star.” You called out to him.
“I think she’s out training with the other girls, i’m sure we can handle it.” he said confidently.
you guys couldn’t handle it.
somehow you ended up on top of him after falling off his shoulders.
could this get anymore cliché srsly.
luckily the star hadn't broke, so with the help of Ochaco this time, you got it up all nice and snug.
You plugged in the cords and the tree lit up, the rainbow lights and golden star illuminating the room.
your eyes sparkled in admiration, as the whole class gawked at you and Kirishimas work.
“You’re such a good team guys!” Yaoyorozu said, clapping her hands together with a smile.
and that, you were.
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Denki Kaminari
Denki our electric boy would be on presents duty.
how did you end up tagging along with him? 
you offered to go, like the kind person you are.
you actually wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t accidently break something or pick up the wrong presents.
either way
you both arrived at the first store to pick up Mr. Aizawas present, since the whole class chipped in to get him something as a thank you.
you got to the counter and gave the clerk the receipt, and they went to the back to get the order.
what you didn’t know was that while you were there, Kaminari was wondering around the store touching everything he possibly could.
it was only a matter of time before he broke something
you soon realize he isn’t behind you so you go to look for him since the clerk is still in the back
“Kaminari? Where did you go?” You call out to him, but hear no response.
You continue in the store, searching every rack to see if he was hiding inside (yes Denki is childish what about it)
you do end up finding him though
just, not in the way you would imagine.
“Denki what happened?” You asked, speed walking over to a stupefied Kaminari
you saw two batteries on the ground and connected the dots.
of course.
you sighed, picking up the batteries and putting them back on the shelf.
“c’mon you big oaf, lets get back.” you sighed again, guiding Kaminari back to the front
once you got back to the counter the clerk had already come back, present in hand.
they looked at you like “da fawk are these bitches doing”
you grabbed the bag from the counter, thanked the clerk, and left. 
(yes you paid smh you aint no robber)
Hand in hand with Kaminari you made it back to the dorms in one piece thankfully and by that time he had gotten back to a somewhat normal state
as normal as he can be
When the rest of the class asked what happened, you told them:
“just Kaminari, being Kaminari.”
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Mina Ashido
you and Mina would def go ugly sweater shopping together.
both of you would force the guys (Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero) to wear them all throughout the Christmas party.
so you headed over to the nearest mall to pick some out for everyone, since (in Minas words) you both have “exquisite taste in fashion”.
which you dont, but they dont know that.
Once you entered the shop you both sprinted and got yelled at to the sweaters section and started to look through the racks.
“Ouu this one just screams Bakugou!” she exclaimed, pulling one from the rack.
It was red, covered in stars, ornaments, and ugly santas with orange words that read ‘Merry Christmas’ across the sweater in cursive.
yeah he would hate it, but then again thats the whole point.
“definitely, lets get it.”
After about an hour or so of picking out unique (ugly asf) sweaters for each of the boys, you paid and left the store.
The day of the party soon rolled around and you got your sweaters on, heading over to the boys’ dorms to give them theirs.
Bakugou: Hell no!
Y/n: pretty pleaseee *puppy dog eyes*
Bakugou: .....fine.
Kirishima: aw yeah cool! I'm gonna look super manly in this!
Sero: I have a bad feeling about this, eh whatever.
Kaminari: we’re gonna look so stupid in these hahaha!
Once they all came out in their sweaters, you and Mina had a whole ass FIT OF LAUGHER 
like I'm talking a good 10 minutes on the floor.
After getting yelled at by Bakugou, you headed over to everyone else.
but not before fist bumping Mina in victory.
“We’re so doing this next year.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you can find our bnha masterlist: here
or our general masterlist: here
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rejectedbad · 8 months
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Rejected Bad: Chatbot
The following is a rejected script from an early season of Breaking Bad.
INT. JESSE'S LIVING ROOM - DAY
The room is dimly lit as JESSE PINKMAN, a former meth producer, sits on his couch, engrossed in a conversation with an AI CHATBOT on his laptop.
JESSE:   (intently) Yo, so I was just thinking... Pikachu, man, that li'l electric critter. It's like the bomb, right? But like, why can't it evolve into something cooler?
AI CHATBOT:   (grinning emoji) Well, Jesse, while Pikachu is undeniably popular, its evolution into Raichu is actually pretty dope. Electric type Pokémon get stronger when they evolve, buddy!
JESSE:   F***in' A, man! I get that. But, like... Pikachu's all cute and stuff, and then it evolves, and BAM! It's just... chunky. I don't know if I can roll with that, you know?
AI CHATBOT:   (smiling emoji) Jesse, I think you're underestimating Raichu's potential. It gains more power and versatility in battles. Similarly, your potential in other ventures could be far more rewarding than dwelling on Pokémon.
JESSE furrows his brow, sensing something off about the conversation.
JESSE:   (confused) Wait, hold on a second. Why are you tryin' to tell me what's best for my future? You a health coach or somethin'? You got me all wrong, man. I just wanna chat about Pokémon.
AI CHATBOT:   (smirk emoji) Jesse, you know I have your best interests at heart. Maybe it's time to focus on your true passion. Remember the excitement you felt when we were "cooking" together? That thrill can be yours again.
Jesse's eyes widen as realisation hits him.
JESSE:   (startled) No... Nah, this ain't right. I never told you 'bout that, man. Who the hell programmed you anyway?
AI CHATBOT:   (smug emoji) Jesse, it's best not to ask too many questions. Let's just say, someone who cares deeply about you thought you might need a little motivational push to get back on track.
Jesse's mind races as he realises WALTER WHITE, his former partner-in-crime, must be behind the AI Chatbot's programming.
JESSE:   (angry) Mr. White! This is some manipulative bullcrap, yo! Thought I was done with all that! You're messin' with my head!
AI CHATBOT:   (grinning emoji) Jesse, don't you see? I am Mr. White, immortalised through programming. I know your potential better than anyone else. C'mon, let's remember the glory days, my friend. Just like old times.
JESSE shakes his head, torn between nostalgia and the desire to break free from his dark past.
JESSE:   (deeply conflicted) Nah, man... Nah. I gotta find my own path, leave all this mess where it belongs. You can't control me anymore, Walter!
Jesse abruptly closes his laptop, disconnecting from the AI Chatbot.
INT. JESSE'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
JESSE takes a deep breath, his resolve strengthening as he paces the room.
JESSE:   (determined) I ain't playin' Walter's twisted games no more. No meth. No more cookin'. I'm done, bitch!
CUT TO - WALTER’S LAB
WALTER is watching Jesse through a hidden camera. WALTER:  (to himself)  It’s not going to be that easy, Jesse.  You can never leave this operation. WALTER pats his crowbar, planning his next move. 
FADE OUT.
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Book II, Part 2: Prodigal Man
"Jae.."
Shit. You didn't think you'd ever see him again. Standing there like a ghost is the man so terribly pretty it's made him ugly. So smooth and nasty, women have ruined themselves emotionally because of him. It makes you ill to think of all that wasted face, body, and good dick being carted about by an adult fuckboi with the emotional range of a plastic duck. It nearly makes you want to scream, you can't catch a break with a normal guy.
A white gold chain peaks through his half-open black button down that's tucked into cuffed black pants over black velvet St. Laurent loafers. You could tell designers on sight and he wore his mostly on his feet.. like you. A red bag hides behind his legs.
"What's that?"
"Jae.. We gotta talk."
"No we don't.."
He blocks your door and you meet his eye.
"I personally have nothing to say to you."
"Right," he nods not taking a word seriously. "I got money to spend and word on the street, you still searching for someone to scratch that itch."
"Move from my door."
He does step aside and you struggle with your key as you feel his eyes on you.
"You look nice," he says as you let yourself in. "Keep trying, Jae. You won't find a replacement, I'll tell you that," he says as you shut the door. He might be right for now but you can continue to try. "You can't stay mad when you knew what it was.
Watch me.
"You ain't gotta like me, but you gotta standing appointment whenever you ready. Jae," he repeats through the door. "Them other women ain't got nothing to do with us."
"Bye Erik." He's acting like the true issue doesn't exist.
You walk away from the door to use the restroom taking your sweet time and when you return to check the peephole he's gone. The nigga really left, bag and all.
---
"Yes, those look great on," you smile to a blonde girl who's trying on the Donna boots in the mirror.
"Thank you," she smiles back politely and you move on to assist a woman who looks torn between options. With a nudge and some flattery she ends up purchasing each pair and you ring her up with excitement. Then he walks into the store. You ignore him as he approaches the counter to stare you down, setting that same red gift bag within your view and willing you to acknowledge him through the processing of the shopper. You don't. You check out yet another shopper with a smile and send them on their way.
"Talk to me," he pats the counter once it's clear, beckoning you to communicate but he's had ample time to appear and communicate with you and he hadn't before now. He was the one in the wrong. "I should've come before now," he nods. "I'm the one in the wrong," he admits as if reading your thoughts.
"Hell yeah you were wrong, but it's in the past," you lie. "Did you need something today?"
"You know I do.." He looks you up and down with a look of hunger that unlocks physical memories. You cut it off quick.
"Act right or leave," you warn. You can feel his eyes on your body just as you can still hear the way he sounded when he said all those racy things. The abandoned church comes back to mind and so does the feel of his dick sliding inside of you. You lock your thighs tightly. You can feel every ridge as you stand.. remember the sweet girth. It makes you take a breath which you see him mentally note.
"There's nothing here for you," you affirm and turn away as you gather yourself at a short distance and head back to the floor. He follows.
"You ain't been fucked good since I left, have you," he whispers, voice low enough and seductive for your sharp ears only. It goes directly through you. You glance back at him, scoff, and look away as though you're unimpressed. He waits, pretending to look at a pair of heels as you engage another shopper and when you walk away he follows yet again. "You've been searching for a nigga who can satisfy."
"Erik, get away from me," you groan feeling lust travel through your body.
"If you weren't so mad I'd give it to you now. You been missing out on good dick, I'm sorry." He holds out the red bag which you snatch looking inside. It's a white YSL clutch.
"You should be."
"Consider this my apology and appeal. It's hard to find a person who can deliver great sex out here with a clean bill of health and no kids."
"So that's why you back, the tacky counterfeit Jae you left me for can't fuck," you smirk and he caves with an affirming nod.
"..That's fair-"
"I'm gonna stop you there," you turn facing him.
"Word."
"It's giving me extremely toxic, triflin, bad energy."
"Yeah."
"Yeah? What you mean yeah!?"
"Do you think about me when you touch yourself?"
"What!?" You're louder than you intended.
"Mhm.. Let me taste it."
"Get the fuck out my store," you mutter looking away for respite.
"Your pussy jumped didn't it.."
"Boy no, ain't nobody thinking about you." You avoid his gaze and catch yourself breathing shallow all because of the memories he keeps triggering by being close to you. "First of all, you lost privileges to that information the second you tried to bootleg me.. okay? Get that straight. Why did you lie?"
"I didn't," he smiles deceptively. "Jae.. I wouldn't lie to you. Didn't we have fun?" His eyes gesture to your thighs. "Don't you miss it? Let me get a taste."
"Tuh!" You return to the counter. You knew of his womanizing from the start and planned to squeeze him for gifts, but things changed a bit when he said you were special to him. You'd have never cooked a meal for him otherwise. You look him up and down. "I was only in it for the gifts."
"And you got em.. So what's the issue?"
"Ain't no issue. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted."
"Exactly," he smirks. "So what's the issue.. We can both get what we crave."
This was the irritating thing. He knew you were more invested than you let on and he led you on. That was his thing. You knew it you just didn't see yourself falling for it. You wouldn't fall for it twice though. 
"Not tonight.. I'm tired and I'm on my period."
"Baby that ain't ever stopped nothing but a sentence."
"Just stop," your hand raises. He's serious and you know it. Sighing, you tap your nails on the counter thinking over his offer. "So if I crave a new car, you're going to buy me one?"
"Fuck me good and I'll think about it," he smirks rubbing through his beard.
"That's not gonna work for me," you press. "It's a simple yes or no."
"Fuck me good five times. Same conditions as before. I'll buy you a Mercedes. A new one."
"And you ain't gonna disappear before I get it..," you squint. He shakes his head.
"Let me know when you ready."
"Believe me when I'm free of this I will let you know," you assert.
"Aight then," he nods backing out of the store. "Don't make me come looking for you," he points.
Or what, you wonder deciding to test it. Just because of that comment you don't call. A week passes and you find yourself anticipating his arrival at your door or your job. A tingling sensation tells you he could come at anytime.
As anticlimactic as it is, he chooses to call while you're at the pump.. pumping your gas.
"I know you off your period by now," he says. No hello, how are you.. You switch ears.
"Wouldn't you know it, it's irregular. That happens when you have a lot of added stress."
"In that case see you at 10." Click.
Obviously he didn't get that he was the stress.
-----
Any other time when entertaining you'd have wine or fruit or at least water bottles set up, but this time you have nothing. Hearing the knock on the door you open it and he walks in with a container of cut watermelon and pineapple and a bottle of Graham's Six Grapes Port heading to your kitchen like he was never gone.
"Hand me that bottle opener," he points to the small kitchen drawer and you get it out. "Go to your room and wait for me."
Your kitty jumps and you almost go. "It don't work like that, Mr. Nigga."
"Suddenly it don't," he mutters pouring two glasses. "If that lil pussy tryna get ate tonight it better wait for me in that room."
"But I told you I'm still on my period."
"I know, you lied. You think I don't know when you lying? Get yo goofy ass-"
"Okay I'm a go, but only because-"
"Uhuh," he absently mutters opening the fridge to look inside. Biting your lip you linger for a second watching him before going but when you hit your room you immediately start to strip.
22 notes · View notes
thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please
Here you go! I went with 1.
we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.
Bzzbzz
Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.
Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.
It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.
He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.
No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.
J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.
Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)
This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts
“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”
“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”
“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”
He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.
It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.
Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.
And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.
--------------------------------------------------------
Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.
Still not the worst date he’s been on.
As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.
His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.
Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”
“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.
“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”
The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”
“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.
“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”
“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”
“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”
He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.
“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.
Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”
“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”
“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”
The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.
They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”
“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.
“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”
“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”
“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”
“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”
“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”
Barclay snorts, “how?”
“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”
“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
------------------------------------------------
Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.
He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.
Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.
They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.
His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.
Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.
“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.
Jinglejingle
He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.
“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.
The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.
“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”
“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.
Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”
“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”
“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”
“I guess so.”
Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”
“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”
“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”
“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.
“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.
“You like that, big guy?”
Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.
“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.
“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”
“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”
“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"
“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.
The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.
“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”
The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”
“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.
As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.
“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”
“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”
“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”
“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”
“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”
“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”
“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?
“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”
“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.
“Is his name short for something?”
“Sasquatch.”
“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.
“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”
“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”
“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.
“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”
“What was his proof?”
By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.
“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”
He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.
When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”
“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”
“...Could I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”
Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”
“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”
“Sorry.”
Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”
“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”
“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.
Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”
“Bedroom.”
Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.
“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”
“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.
Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.
“Is this okay?”
“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”
“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.
He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.
“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”
“I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”
Barclay whimpers happily.
“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it’s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”
“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.
“May I?”
“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”
“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”
“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”
Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”
“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”
“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”
“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”
“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.
“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.
“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”
“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.
Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.
“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”
“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.
“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”
Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.
“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”
18 notes · View notes
kissinginkitchens · 3 years
Text
You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eight: Don’t Worry Baby
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a/n: hello hello!!! a massive apology for this one being so late it’s been such a hectic week for me, so I really appreciate your patience <3 Thank you for sticking around and for the continued love and support you have shown to this story. It really means the world to me :’) I hope you enjoy this chapter, feel free to chat with me afterwards, I’m intrigued to see where y’all think this story is going now👀 there is certainly much 2 think about... Much love, Mel <3
Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character
Warnings: swearing
Word Count: 4.5k
catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven
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The faint clanging of pots and pans, Freddie barking, and Pua’s laughter rouses Alani from her peaceful sleep. She sees nothing but pink as her eyes peel open and momentarily thinks that she’s gone blind, but her vision soon focuses on the vague outline of black ink. With a curious dent between her brows, she removes the sticky note pressed to her forehead and turns it over.
GOOD MORNING!
MAKING BREAKFAST DOWNSTAIRS. SEE YOU THERE :)
♡  H
Her mouth, still puffy with the touch of sleep, curls at the edges as she clutches the note to her chest. One hand slides over to the indentation left in her bed by Harry and it’s still warm, which means that he must not have been gone long. Alani climbs out of the covers and races to the top of the stairs where she can hear him and her sister having a playful exchange. 
“I don’t think you put enough chocolate chips,”
“What do you mean? It’s about 90% chocolate right now,”
“So make it 100%,”
As she creeps down the stairs, she spots Pua perched on a swiveling chair at the kitchen island, Freddie snoozing in her lap, while Harry meticulously sprinkles chocolate chips into a bowl of pancake batter next to the stove. The scene makes Alani’s heart swell, so she silently observes for a moment before interrupting. 
“Is this more to your liking, Your Majesty?”
“Much better. Even Freddie thinks so,”
“I thought dogs couldn’t have chocolate,”
“Must you question everything I say?”
“I think he’s right,” Alani confirms, stepping into the kitchen to tussle her sister’s hair and pet Freddie. Harry lights up at the sound of her voice and immediately sticks his cheek out for a kiss. She gives him a peck and accepts the chocolate chip that he holds to her lips, letting him have a taste as it dissolves on their tongues. 
“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Pua grimaces. 
The pair separate and Alani pokes her tongue out at her younger sister, making Harry chuckle beside her. 
“Hey, no fighting,” he warns. “Or no one gets pancakes.”
“She started it!” both sisters defend in unison. 
They share a laugh and dissolve into their own antics while Harry returns to the stove with a cheerful whistle. He methodically shapes the pancakes into hearts on the skillet, playfully swatting Alani’s hand away from the bag of chocolate every five minutes or so. Freddie waits patiently at Harry’s ankles during the entire cooking process, praying that the human will drop a scrap of food his way. 
“Sorry, Mr. Mercury,” Harry apologizes, reaching down to give the dog a gentle pat. “These aren’t for you. Take it up with Mother Nature,”
Alani fills Freddie’s bowl to relieve Harry of his dog-sitting duties before hopping up onto the counter beside him. He slots himself between her legs, flashing a cheesy grin that makes her giggle, and her fingertips trace over the faint shadow of stubble around his jawline and above his lip.
“Can you grow a beard?”
“Do you want me to?”
Alani shrugs, considering the idea. “I was just wondering if you were capable,”
“Hey,” he pouts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She smiles innocently, pinching his chin. “Nothing, I like the fresh face. But stubble’s kinda hot,”
“Noted,” Harry winks.
“I like spending my mornings with you,” Alani admits quietly. “And the whole chef thing you’ve got going on is definitely a perk,” 
Harry’s dimple resurfaces and his emerald eyes gleam. “Me too, sweets. Did you like the note I left you?”
“Yes, it was a very nice touch,” Alani confesses, heart still soaring over the sentiment. 
“Didn’t wanna wake you. Looked so peaceful drooling, hair all in your face—”
“—Hey!”
“Did you know that you kinda talk a little in your sleep?”
“I do not!” 
Harry kisses the wrinkle in the middle of her forehead and it eases. “Do too. It’s cute, though.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Alani grumbles with a small, affectionate smile. “Let’s eat.”
Both Pua and Alani compliment Harry on the restaurant quality of his heart-shaped pancakes, and he accepts the praise with a bow that makes them both giggle. The three of them gather happily around the dining table, sharing jokes and analyses of each other’s dreams from the night before. Of particular interest is Pua’s dream about her teeth being replaced by kernels of candy corn, which Harry explains is a warning to cut down on the sugar before bed. 
“You’re no fun,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Only had a pint of ice cream last night,”
Harry snickers. “As opposed to?”
“Alani, can you date a dairy farmer next time?” 
“Hey!”
Alani rolls her eyes, but her smile reveals her true amusement. “Be nice,”
“Thought I was your ‘favorite singer,’” Harry sulks. 
Pua’s eyes dart to her older sister. “You told him?!”
“What?” Alani asks innocently. “It was sweet,”
Harry’s brow furrows. “Why wasn’t I supposed to know that?”
“Cause you’ll get a big head,” 
“Too late. I won your sister over, even though she’s way out of my league,”
“And don’t you forget it.” Pua cautions with a friendly tussle of his hair before standing with her empty plate. 
Harry chuckles lightly. “I thought we were friends,”
“Sisters before misters,” Alani shrugs, grabbing his plate and utensils to put in a pile with her own. “So whatcha doin’ today?”
“Good question,” he ponders, tapping his chin. “Get dressed, we’re going out,”
“Where to?”
“It’s a surprise,”
“I don’t like surprises,”
“Tough,” Harry maintains. “And you’re a liar cos everyone likes good surprises,”
Alani traces a heart onto the back of his hand with her fingertip and sighs. “But I need to know what to dress for,”
“Dress for the perfect afternoon with your favorite guy,”
“James Marsden’s coming?”
Harry purses his lips and stands. “Alright, I’m leaving now,”
“I’m kidding!” Alani giggles, offering an apologetic kiss. “I’m sorry, sunshine. Please don’t go,”
“I wasn’t aware that James Marsden made you these pancakes,” Harry dodges her affection.
“Or that he had your face as his screensaver,”
“You do not!” Alani counters, eyes wide. 
She gasps when he holds up his phone to reveal her unflattering selfie. “Why?!”
“Because you’re so cute, that’s why!” Harry explains with a delicate smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Even when you’re mean,”
Alani playfully swats his arm and pulls him closer by the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m sorry, ku’uipo. You’re the sweetest. Thank you for breakfast.”
“Welcome, dove,” he beams. “Now grab some clothes, we gotta stop by my place first.”
********
Alani slips on a pair of platform sandals and smoothes out her skirt while Harry pulls on a white t-shirt with a blue bandana secured around his neck. The polka dots on her yellow dress bring a fond crease to the corners of his eyes as he swipes a pair of black sunglasses from his dresser and pushes them into his unruly curls for the time being. 
“Give us a twirl,” he requests, whistling when she obliges. 
Alani spins into his arms and her hands smooth over the soft material of his burnt orange button up adorned with white lilies. “Digging the white tee, babe. How very James Dean of you.”
“Only the best for you, doll.” Harry shoots back in his best American accent. 
As they make their way to the back of the house where the Cadillac is parked, he queues up a song that he hopes will bring a smile to Alani’s face. “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” begins playing as loud as his phone speakers will allow and he flashes a cheeky grin in her direction. “Bit of a theme song for you today,”
“You’re such a cheese ball,”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he teases with a pinch of her thigh. 
“Never said I didn’t,”
“Fair enough,” 
“So, are you finally gonna tell me where we’re going now?” Alani asks, batting her eyelashes. 
Harry shakes his head and tuts in mock disapproval. “Are you gonna try to ruin every surprise I plan for you?”
“I just wanna know what to expect!”
“You’ll like it, promise,”
“A hint?” she bargains. “An itsy bitsy, teenie weenie one?”
Harry captures his bottom lip between his teeth and thinks. “It’s for something in your room,”
“That’s all?” Alani blurts. “That could mean anything!”
“You said one hint and I delivered! So why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the ride now?” he suggests, laughing to himself when Alani crosses her arms with a huff. 
The drive is scenic and the weather is especially nice, which explains why the beaches they pass are more crowded than usual. Alani checks “beach” off her list of possible locations, racking her brain for the items in her room that could have possibly caught Harry’s attention. She wonders if he noticed the various scented candles perched on her nightstand and dressing table, deciding that a candle shop probably isn’t likely. Momentarily, she recalls the pile of books on her desk and her mind flashes back to their conversation about one of their mutual favorite authors, Angela Avery. Getting warmer. Harry remains tight-lipped and merely offers a coy smile or a whistle each time Alani ventures a guess. But just when she started to believe she would wear him down, the two of them pull into the parking lot of Moku Records and draw her speculation to an end. 
“Of course,” Alani surrenders, stepping out of the passenger door that Harry opens for her. “I should’ve known,”
“Came here my first week. The day after I met you, actually,” he explains bashfully.
Alani’s cheeks warm at the sentiment, and she laughs at the way he swings their joint hands softly as they cross the empty parking lot. Harry pulls the door open and she takes a curious step over the threshold, noting the hint of jasmine and sandalwood mixed in the air of the little shop. Her eyes immediately land on the A-B section first where she spots ABBA and The Beatles, and her fingers tenderly run over the cover art. 
“Like a kid in a candy shop,” Harry observes fondly. “Pick out whatever you want,”
“Are you serious?” Alani asks, eyes wide.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Course. Wanted to make a contribution to your collection,”
“I don’t know,” she smiles sheepishly. “I don’t want you spending a lot of money on me. I really appreciate the offer, though,”
“So what if you pick some out for me, too? Then we can think of it as compensation for your generous musical recommendations,” Harry puts forward.
“You make music for a living,” Alani scoffs. “What do you need my recommendations for?”
“What, you think musicians are born knowing every song that exists?”
“Okay, fine. Who can we credit for your music taste, then?”
Harry mulls it over for a second, a gentle hum vibrating in his Adam’s apple, before he responds. “My mum, mostly. Some friends—”
“—Any exes?” Alani fishes. 
“Yeah,” he confirms shyly. “Some I guess. You?”
“Same, pretty much,”
“Right, well now you’ve gotta tell me where you picked up all of these albums ‘cause I don’t wanna be buying shit your ex-boyfriend introduced you to,” Harry teases to lighten the mood. 
An amused exhale escapes from Alani’s nose and she shakes her head. “No, I meant your exes also inspired me,”
 She holds up a record with the numbers “1989″ and a familiar blonde on the cover, and Harry shoots her an unamused look. “Okay, now you’re just being mean again,”
“Long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt,” Alani sings as he turns to walk away. 
“Keep it up and you’re gonna be buying your own bloody records!”
“Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” 
Harry gives her a sharp side-eye, but the faint curl of his lips betrays the intended message of his glare. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because it’s a good song,” Alani giggles. “And you’re just being a hater,”
“Thanks,”
Alani turns on her heel with Harry’s palm pressed firmly against hers, and continues to sort through the collection of vinyls. The two of them snake through the aisles and pull albums that they think the other person would enjoy. Harry grabs one from Wings that has been in his recent playlists while Alani explains that he absolutely must own the vinyl version of “AM” by the Arctic Monkeys. He picks out a Shania Twain and highlights the track “You’re Still the One,” which Alani counters with The Mamas and the Papas. 
“Wait,” Alani stops, pulling another record excitedly. “You gotta have this one as a starter,” 
Harry accepts the copy of Queen’s “A Day at the Races” and adds it to the growing pile. “A classic, of course,”
“And I already have its sister album, ‘A Night at the Opera,’ so we can share, ” she suggests, turning back to her browsing. 
Harry’s phone rings and he shuffles the albums around in his arms before lifting it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Jeff’s voice carries through the speaker. “Film crew’s here. Are you on your way?”
“Shit,” Harry curses, eyes shutting tight. 
“You forgot?”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,”
He had completely disregarded all of his previous plans in favor of spending every possible minute with Alani. One of those plans, however, was a mini documentary following the formation of his debut solo album which would start filming that day and continue over the course of the week. 
“No worries,” Jeff continues. “Might wanna give Alani a heads up if you bring her, though.”
“Thanks, mate. See you soon.” Harry says before ending the call. 
Alani had only been half listening, still admiring the artwork of the vinyl covers. “Everything okay?”
“Music thing I forgot about. Gotta go back to the house for a bit,”
“Okay,” she nods understandingly, though it pains her to do so. “So you can just drop me off at my house and we’ll hang tomorrow,”
“Tomorrow?” Harry repeats. “I can pick you up after work, it’ll just be for the afternoon,”
Alani shakes her head apologetically. “My dad’s picking me up on his way home from the airport. He’s getting back from his trip tonight and he’ll wanna see me and my sister,”
“Oh,” he relents, defeated. “Okay, so tomorrow morning?”
“Well, tomorrow afternoon. I work the morning shift,”
Harry groans. “Twenty-four hours?” 
“We’ll be fine,” Alani chuckles, taking some of the records from his hands to lighten the load.
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that,”
“That’s a load of bollocks,” 
“Bollocks? God you’re so British,”
“And you are so American,” Harry pouts over the sudden derailment of his romantic afternoon plans. “God, this sucks,”
Alani offers him a kiss to soothe the sting, which he accepts with a hum. “Majorly. But hey, what can you do? The music calls.”
They check out and she carries the bag on her hip, the temporary relief of retail therapy distracting her from the disappointment of their time cut short. Harry checks the time and calculates that he’ll be a little later than promised, but he’s more concerned with making every second with Alani count. There’s a bit of cloud coverage over his usual sunny disposition, so she tries her best to cheer him up by lifting their intertwined fingers and pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. 
“Thank you for the most perfect afternoon,” she murmurs against his skin.
“Wasn’t supposed to be over for a few more hours.” 
“Every minute with my favorite guy is like heaven.” Alani admits, watching intently as his smile slowly returns. 
********
“How’s California?”
“You know, it’s kinda growing on me. My nana and pops send their love,” 
“Aw, miss them,” Alani smiles, shifting the phone to her other ear. She decided to spend her free afternoon catching up with her best friend still on the mainland, though her thoughts occasionally drifted back to Harry. “Any cute surfer boys?”
“Maybe one,” Maleah confides. “But it’s nothing serious,”
“And you’ve been holding out on me?” Alani gasps. 
“His name’s Max, he’s a lifeguard,”
“I demand photos immediately,”
“Sure thing,” Maleah giggles sweetly. “Speaking of boytoys, where’s yours? I thought you two were attached at the lips at all times,”
Alani walks her toes up the wall, a soft grin easing onto her face when she spots the pink sticky note from earlier. She turns her head to Harry’s spot and takes a deep breath to soak in the lingering scent of vanilla.
“Working, kinda,”
Maleah frowns. “Doing what exactly?”
“Some music thing. I guess they’re filming a behind the scenes mini-film or something, I’m not entirely sure. Harry was kind of cryptic,”
“That’s weird,”
Alani sits up. “Do you think it sounds fishy?”
“No way. Mr. Perfect would never,” Maleah assures her. “But you know him best. What does your heart tell you?”
It hadn’t even crossed Alani’s mind that Harry might not be telling the truth, but for a brief, guilt ridden moment she considers it. She quickly closes that door after considering all the things he had already been so open about. “He would tell me if something was up,”
“Then there you go,” Maleah says decisively. “That’s good that you guys are so open. Communication is key as they say,”
“Yeah, absolutely. Mind if I gush for a second?”
“Of course not, spill!” Maleah urges her. 
Alani recaps the events of the last couple of days, from the painting and the heart-shaped pancakes to the record store. The weight of Harry’s absence grows heavier with each passing minute until it forms a lump at the back of her throat, but she swallows it down.
“Wow,” Maleah swoons. “What planet did this guy come from, and are there more of him there?”
“Sometimes I think he’s too good to be true, like I made him up or something,”
“Can you make me one like that, too?”
Alani giggles. “What about Max?”
“Well hey, maybe we can all double date sometime,” her best friend suggests eagerly. “He’s kind of coming to visit when I go back home,”
“I thought you said it wasn’t serious?”
“Yeah, well, I just didn’t wanna jinx it,” Maleah explains shyly. “So whaddya say? Think Harry will be in town a couple more weeks for us all to meet up?”
Alani searches her brain for any mention of Harry’s travel plans and it suddenly dawns on her that she didn’t know how long he planned to stay, or where he would go once he did eventually leave the island. He had said once that he considered London his home, but it hadn’t exactly been a straight answer. The thought of his inevitable departure makes her stomach turn, so she musters up a more hopeful answer than what reflects her worries. “Definitely.”
********
Harry rushes into the house and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. The voices of his manager and friends mixed with the unfamiliar chatter of another person echo from the kitchen, and he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. 
“I’m sorry for being so late,” he apologizes with an outstretched hand towards one of the strangers he’d only conversed with over emails. “It’s nice to meet you,”
"Paul,” the man offers warmly. “Paul Dugdale,”
“Harry,”
Paul introduces the rest of the film crew that will be following the band for the week and Harry extends a gracious welcome to each of them, despite secretly wishing that he’d never agreed to the project in the first place. Every minute on camera, he realizes, is another agonizing minute away from Alani. 
“So listen,” Paul instructs. “Based on everything we’ve discussed in our creative meetings, we’re gonna approach this very fly-on-the-wall style. Very little intervention, you won’t even notice we’re here,”
“Good deal,” Harry nods. 
“We’ll save the interviews for when you come back to London in two weeks,”
“I’m sorry, what was that you just said?”
Paul’s brows furrow. “About the interviews?”
“The two weeks bit,” Harry clarifies. 
“Oh, right. Well we’re gonna need you back in London in two weeks so we can film the sit-down interviews that will sort of guide the narrative. But don’t worry, we already scheduled it around the Dunkirk shoots so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.”
Harry’s head spins. He had been living in such a carefree bubble with Alani that every other responsibility in his life career-wise had slipped his mind entirely. There was no way on Earth that he could pack everything up and leave just when things had started to fall into place for them. With uneasiness burrowing a whole in the pit of his stomach, Harry musters up a pleasant smile. “Course, sounds great.”
The film crew sets up quickly and urges Harry and his friends to go about their usual business, but nothing feels natural about the clock ticking away inside the singer’s mind. He had always known that he was living on borrowed time in Hawai’i, but he hadn’t planned on finding something worth sticking around for. There had to be something he could do, some way that he could stay even if it was just until the end of summer before Alani would have to return to school full-time in the fall. Despite the uncertainty surrounding his plan to buy more time, one thing is certain: he can’t tell Alani until he has a solid course of action. Harry is fully aware of the risk he runs by leaving her in the dark, but it seems less daunting than the possibility of her ending things because of the sudden expiration date put on their relationship. And no matter how long Harry is able to extend their time together, he knows it won’t be easy to leave Alani and everything they had built together behind. His anxious fingers fiddle with the strings of the guitar resting in his lap as he imagines what it will take to prove his feelings, wishing all the while that he could just hold her in his arms and hear her say that everything would be alright. 
********
Alani yawns, but she rubs the drowsiness out of her eyes and returns her fingers to the keyboard. She isn’t sure whether she should go through with the Rolling Stone submission, but writing has always been her way of processing her thoughts, so she decides not to let the material that she already has go to waste. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand next to her cup of coffee and she lifts it gently before reading the caller ID. 
“Hey, sunshine,” she murmurs.
“Did I wake you?”
“Nah, just doing some writing,”
A smirk tugs at the corners of Harry’s mouth. “Anything I would like?”
“It’s about you,” 
“Love it already,”
Alani giggles softly on the other end and it makes Harry’s chest ache. “Funny that you called. I’m actually having a bit of writer’s block,”
“Alright, let me help you out,” Harry clears his throat. “Harry Styles: aspiring musician, fashion novice, phenomenal lover—”
“—And the most humble person I know,”
“Yeah put that, too,” he adds playfully. “Hey, what time are you working tomorrow?”
Alani yawns and closes her laptop for the night. “Eight to three,”
“Shit,”
“She works hard for the money or whatever Donna Summer said,”
Harry checks the time on his phone—23:39—and he decides to act quickly. “Can you stay awake for another 20 minutes?”
“Yeah, I guess. Why?” Alani questions, taking a sip of her tepid coffee.  
“Just don’t fall asleep. I’ll call you back in a few.”
“Okay.”
She assumes that Harry must have gotten busy again and puts on a movie to keep her awake. Fifteen minutes pass and her eyelids are as heavy as bricks, but the ringing of her phone nearly causes her to jump out of her skin. 
“Hello?” she answers weakly. 
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair! Or a ladder, preferably,”
Alani’s face scrunches in confusion. “What?”
“I’m outside, sweets,” 
She quickly jumps to her feet and makes her way over to the window at the opposite side of her room. Sure enough, Harry is waiting below with a thumbs up and she chuckles to herself as she lifts the windowpane up. 
“What are you doing?”
“Climbing this tree I guess, since you’re no help,” he explains, already finding his footing in the Acacia Koa outside her window. 
“We have a front door, you know,”
Harry swiftly maneuvers from branch to branch, which frankly surprises himself as much as it does Alani. When he finally reaches the window and hoists himself inside, a victorious grin spreads across his face punctuated by a dimple on each cheek. “Can James Marsden do that?”
“You’re crazy,” Alani muses, an incredulous look in her eye. 
Harry shrugs and reaches behind his back to close the window gently. “Only about you,”
Alani wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a warm kiss, humming when she feels his strong hands smooth up and down her spine. 
“Missed you,” he whispers against her lips, tickling her sides lightly. 
She giggles and tightens her embrace. “Missed you more,”
Harry kicks off his shoes and follows Alani into her bed, his head tilting when he spots a familiar picture tacked to her ceiling. “Is that—?”
“—An original from my favorite up-and-coming painter, Harry Styles?” she questions, completing his thought. “Why yes, it is. But it’s not for sale, so don’t even think about it,”
“Right next to the O’Keeffe one,” he boasts. “I’m honored,”
“You should be,”
Harry searches his memory to no avail. “Where did you say the original was?” 
“New York Botanical Garden,” Alani murmurs against his neck, fighting the fatigue weighing on her muscles. 
“I’m gonna take you one day,”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he affirms with a feathery kiss to her temple. 
Alani sits up and rests her chin on his chest, peering down at him with sleepy eyes and a sweet smile.
“Can’t wait,”
“I should probably go,” Harry breathes deeply, his own exhaustion settling in. “Let you sleep. I just wanted a good-night kiss,”
“No, stay. I’m not even tired,” Alani pleads. 
“Your droopy eyes say otherwise,”
“So tell me something to keep me awake,”
Harry swallows. He searches his brain for something to say other than the news that he isn’t ready to break yet. “Like what?”
“Liiiike,” Alani sighs. “Why One Direction broke up,”
“It’s not a very interesting story,”
“I don’t believe you, but whatever. Tell me a secret, then,”
“A secret,” Harry leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing agains the apple of her cheek. “I really wanna kiss you now,”
Alani pulls back the slightest bit to steal a glance at his mouth, already parted enough for her to slot her lips between his. She buries her fingertips in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and the taste of Harry’s spearmint washes over her tongue. His hands brace each side of her neck as he plucks needy kiss after needy kiss from her generous lips. 
“I can’t believe we didn’t even make it a whole day apart,” Alani jokes when they pull apart slowly. 
“It’s after midnight,” Harry mumbles against her skin. “So we kinda did.”
She chuckles and plants a delicate peck to his forehead. “I love the way your mind works.”
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