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elspethc22 · 3 years

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Never Again

Sciles Week Day 2: Sleep Intimacy

Pairing: Scott/Stiles

Word Count: 1969

When Scott had asked Stiles at the school if he wanted to split up to investigate the train tracks and Stiles had responded ‘never again’ he’d meant it very literally. In the weeks since they’d defeated the Wild Hunt and its wannabe rider the Nazi, Stiles had spent a total of one night in a different bed to Scott. And that night hadn’t gone too well.

The first night, everyone had seemed to just accept that Scott and Stiles weren’t being separated so soon after getting Stiles (and everyone else) back from the Wild Hunt. With everyone suddenly back, both the Sheriff and Melissa had ended up being called back in to work as people tried to deal with, and once again try to explain away, the recent events.

Scott knew Stiles was going to want to go home, to see his house and his room and be in those familiar surroundings after so long, so it wasn’t even a question when he followed his best friend home that night. Like Stiles, he couldn’t bear to separated again so soon, not after so many months and not knowing who Stiles was, what he was missing, and then knowing and struggling to get him back.

When they reach the Stilinski household, Stiles parks the jeep and they hop out. Scott follows Stiles up to the front door, and then pauses when Stiles does, watching as Stiles just stares at the door.

‘Stiles?’ He prompted after a moment, and Stiles nodded, unlocking the door and letting them inside. Scott wondered if he should ask Stiles about eating – did things like that matter in the hunt? But he could tell from the slump in Stiles’ shoulders that he was exhausted, so he let Stiles lead them past the kitchen and up the stairs.

They changed into comfortable clothing and then settled into Stiles’ bed. At first they just lay there, side by side, just far enough apart that Scott could feel the distance.

‘Stiles, are you ok?’ He asked gently after they’d laid there in silence for a minute. Stiles turned his head, then rolled to face Scott. Scott did the same, so they lay staring at each other.

‘It’s just… I have to admit, there were a few moments there when I really wasn’t sure I was getting back here. It’s just…’ He trailed off, and Scott scooted forward, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulling him forward, shifting his own body slightly so he could pull Stiles up next to him.

‘I get it. Right after you disappeared, Lydia was so adamant that she’d forgotten something, that there was something we were forgetting or missing, but none of us could really understand what she meant at first. Then, the more she talked about it, that feeling, the more I felt it creeping in and started noticing things. Like an empty space in a photo, little gaps in memories that just didn’t quite make sense, like why I would go looking for a body in the middle of the preserve.’ Scott paused, looking down at Stiles who had tilted his head up and was watching him.

‘Then, when I remembered you – when we heard your voice through the radio, I couldn’t understand how I ever forgot you. When we were using the machine to try and bring you back with our memories, it was so overwhelming, I couldn’t focus and now I think I know why – because you’re there in almost all of my memories, all the important moments in my life since we met. There were too many and I couldn’t focus it down, couldn’t pick just one that was important because they’re all important. Because it’s you. But I still couldn’t bring you back.’

That last bit was whispered, but Stiles clearly heard it as he suddenly sat up, holding Scott’s face between his hands to force him to look at him.

‘That’s not your fault, Scott. I don’t know everything, but I got enough from my dad to know that Lydia bringing me back has to be because she’s a banshee. He said that they never tried to come for her, the riders, and about that other town with the only person left behind being a banshee. So it’s not because you failed, Scott.’ Stiles told him, and continued to hold Scott’s face still and stare at him until Scott nodded.

Then Stiles nodded, clearly happy with Scott’s acquiescence, and laid back down, snuggling in close to Scott once again. Scott brought his arm back up around Stiles’ waist, and let himself settle in a bit more.

‘I’m so glad we got you back, Stiles.’ Scott whispered into the silence in the room after a few minutes.

‘I’m so happy you got me back too.’ Stiles whispered in return, then they both lapsed back into silence, and slowly started to drift off to sleep.

They woke the next morning when the Sheriff finally returned home from the station, popping his head into the room very briefly to check his son was really back and then tell them he was getting some sleep.

The sound of his dad woke Stiles, and he lifted a hand in acknowledgment, listening as his dad shut the door behind him. During the night, they had shifted so when they woke they were pressed Stiles’ back to Scott’s front, spooning together with Scott’s arm keeping them firmly together.

Stiles had a fleeting thought regarding his continual position as the little spoon before he pushed that aside and pressed back slightly, into the warmth of Scott’s body, feeling Scott’s arm tighten slightly in response. Stiles smiled, and let himself drift back off to sleep.

***************************************************************************

The second night, Scott had returned home to be with his mum and Stiles stayed home to spend time with his dad. When Stiles made his way up to bed, he went through the same routine as the night before, the same routine as always, getting into his pyjamas and crawling into bed.

He then proceeded to spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, waking every hour or two reaching across the bed for someone who wasn’t there, feeling cold and unable to get warm or with his heart racing as he thought he heard horses and whips. When his dad came to check on him in the morning, he was curled up on his side, staring at his phone trying to decide if it was too early to call Scott.

The decision was made for him when his phone suddenly rang, Scott calling him. He hurried to answer the call, holding the phone to his ear.

‘Scotty?’ He breathed into the phone, and heard a responding sigh.

‘Hey Stiles. Sorry if I woke you – ’

‘You didn’t. I uh, I couldn’t really sleep last night.’ Stiles admitted softly.

‘You either, huh?’ Scott asked and Stiles nodded even though Scott couldn’t see him.

‘I kept reaching for you, and you weren’t here.’ Stiles admitted in a low voice, knowing Scott would hear him.

‘Same.’ Scott whispered back, and Stiles closed his eyes.

The Sheriff stood in the doorway listening to the conversation, and was torn between being worried about Stiles’ inability to sleep apparently coming back, and being so happy to have him back and be able to listen to him talk to his best friend even if the topic wasn’t fantastic. With a silent signal to say he was heading to work, the Sheriff left his son still talking to Scott.

He wasn’t surprised when he got a text later that day from Stiles saying he was spending the night at Scott’s.

From then on, the boys alternated their nights between the Stilinski and McCall households, and either the Sheriff or Melissa lost track of the days, well if the boys weren’t at their respective houses they just made the assumption they were at the other house, and they were correct.

They both also assumed that after a few weeks, once everything started to settle again, they would slowly stop this and go back to what it had been like before. This assumption was not correct.

***************************************************************************

One month after Stiles’ return, the Sheriff went to wake his son for his graduation ceremony. After everything that had happened at Beacon Hills High School over the last few months (years) the ceremony had been slightly delayed. As the Sheriff opened the door, he bit back a sigh as he was once again greeted with the sight of Scott and his son curled up together in Stiles’ bed. He had really hoped that now that some time had passed, their shared need for each other to be able to sleep would fade, but that did not seem to be passing.

This morning, Scott was curled up on his side, facing the wall, and Stiles was curled around him, one arm slung across Scott’s midsection, holding him close. They’d often shared a bed as they’d grown up, a closeness forged from a shared grief of losing a parent (albeit in different ways), of being different from their classmates due to asthma and ADHD and being each other’s only real friends for so long. But this was different, this was a new type of closeness and the Sheriff wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

He also worried that now that school was over, and the future upon them with college and who knew what else that this co-dependency for sleep would not end well for either boy. But he knew that saying that to them wouldn’t help, at least not saying outright. Perhaps it was time to talk to Melissa.

He cleared his throat, knocked a couple of times on the door and spoke.

‘Boys, time to wake up – graduation day.’ Stiles stirred first, surprisingly given Scott’s werewolf hearing and reflexes. He turned his head towards the door and gave his dad a smile.

‘Morning dad.’ The Sheriff smiled in returned, then nodded towards Scott.

‘Wake Scott up, get dressed and come down for breakfast. Melissa will be here to join us in half an hour.’ Stiles nodded then turned back towards Scott. The Sheriff stepped back, but then paused, watching his son gently shake Scott.

‘C’mon Scotty, time to get up. Big day today.’ He said, hand on Scott’s shoulder. Scott mumbled and then he brought his hand up to wipe at his face then turned to face Stiles without dislodging Stiles’ arm from his waist.

‘Morning.’ He said lowly, his voice still think with sleep.’ Stiles smiled at him.

‘Can you believe it, Scott? Graduation! We made it – we actuallymade it.’ Scott grinned at him, then his smiled softened slightly.

‘I couldn’t have made it without you.’ Scott told Stiles, who ducked his head. Scott lifted a hand and tilted Stiles’ head back up to look at him. ‘I mean it. No way I’d be here if it wasn’t for you.’

‘Same, Scott. You’ve saved me more times than I can count. And I wouldn’t want to be here without you.’ Stiles admitted and the Sheriff closed his eyes tight. He didn’t want to believe the sentiment but he heard the truth in his son’s voice.

‘I wouldn’t want to be here without you either.’ Scott responded, and the Sheriff heard the truth there too.

When he let his eyes open again, Scott had wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist, and the other had worked its way up between them to hold Stiles’ cheek, and their foreheads were pressed together. Stiles’ eyes were closed, and Scott was watching him.

Maybe he did know what to make of it after all, although he did wonder if the boys had realised yet. He’d have to let Melissa know this wasn’t going to be stopping any time soon.

#scilesweek #sciles week #sleep intimacy #sciles #sciles fanfiction #sciles fanfic #scott mccall #stiles stilinksi #stiles and scott #teen wolf #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf fanfiction #sciles week day 2 #scilesweek day 2

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achillestiel · 4 years

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the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part four

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow @kara-merlin @still-clowning-in-this-house @never-forever-more @continuezmesfilserrants @2musiclover2 @castiels-bitch

Ok Winchester, you can do this. Just be cool, calm and collected. Dean said to himself as he drove towards Foxhall Village, the area that Cas and Jack lived in. Jack had fallen fast asleep about an hour before and every now and then Dean would glance over, marvelling at how much Jack looked like Sammy when he slept. They would both zonk out instantly, mouth slightly open without a care in the world. As much as Dean missed Claire, because that pint sized tearaway was his whole damn world, he couldn’t help but wish that he’d been able to get to know Jack more.

"Hey kid we're here." Dean said as they drove up the street Cas now lived on. "Nice place, what's your dad doing now here in DC?"

"Oh, he's the head of the council of economic advisers." Jack said. "Which sounds cool but it just means he talks about economic policy a lot. It’s cool when he goes to the White House, last time he stole a pen for me. Don’t tell anyone because I’m not sure if that illegal or not."

Dean just sat there for a moment because of course Cas now had a great job within the government. When they'd first met Dean had made endless jokes about how Cas would be president one day. Cas had always rolled his eyes but smiled whenever Dean jokingly called him Mr President.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked.

"Nothing kid, come on. Let's get you back to your dad. No doubt Claire has driven him insane by now so getting her back will be easy." Dean said, getting out the car when all he wanted to do was clamber back into the impala and hightail it back to Kansas. Yes, he was being a coward but the idea of seeing Cas after all this time was doing things to his brain.

"Doubt it, he's put up with Uncle Gabriel for all these years." Jack said.

"Yeah, I remember your uncle alright. Ruined our damn couch." Dean muttered darkly.

"That doesn't surprise me." Jack said as the pair walked up the driveway towards a large Tudor style house. Huh working in government definitely pays well Dean thought. Swallowing down his fear, Dean rang the doorbell. He prayed to whoever was up there that he didn't throw up on the tasteful doormat. The door opened and Dean braced himself to see Cas. Instead, he came face to face with-

"Uncle Gabriel!" Jack said happily. Dean suppressed a groan as he looked down at the short, cheerful-looking man. How was it possible that Gabriel looked almost exactly the same after twelve goddamn years?

"Well if it isn't my favourite nephew." Gabriel said happily as he pulled Jack in for a hug. "And you brought Winchester! Never brought he'd leave Kansas. Is your brother still an Adonis of a man?"

"Was he ever?" Dean asked as he held out his hand for Gabriel to shake. Sure the guy might have wreaked Dean's brand new couch fourteen years prior but he was trying to be polite.

"Oh he was and I let him know all the time. Shame he was so happy with Eileen." Gabriel said, looking wistfully as he shook Dean's hand.

"Yeah well...not that it isn't nice to see you again Gabriel but I kind of need to grab my daughter." Dean said. Maybe he could do this whole thing without having to even see Cas. Part of him was relieved but that idea and the other part of him was just a swirl of emotions.

"Of course, follow me to the kitchen." Gabriel said, stepping back inside the house and motioning for Dean to follow him. Dean obliged, looking around the pristine hallway for any sign of Cas. Jack was hot on their heels as they walked into the kitchen. Dean stopped and just glared at the sight in front of him.

Claire, wearing one of Dean's flannel shirts that was definitely three sizes too big for her, was cheerfully stirring the contents of a large saucepan. Loudly humming along to a song on the radio, which after a second Dean placed as Queen. When Dean coughed loudly she looked up and grinned.

"Dad! Come on in, we're making chilli for dinner." Claire said, looking far too happy for her own good. "Jack, grab some chips and gauc out the fridge."

"We?" Dean asked while Jack sauntered past him towards the huge sub zero refrigerator.

"Hello Dean." And damn if that didn't make Dean want to sprint out the house. He braced himself and looked over to where Cas was standing. All the breath in Dean’s body left him as his eyes fell onto Cas. He looked almost exactly the same apart from a few wrinkles around the startlingly blue eyes that Dean had always adored. His hair was still a complete mess and...son of a bitch, he was even wearing the blue sweater Dean had brought him for Christmas fifteen years prior. Seriously, was he doing this on purpose?

“Um...hey Cas...long time.” Dean managed to stammer out.

“Dork.” He heard Claire mutter under her breath.

“Hey.” Dean said, rounding on Claire. “You got any idea how much trouble you’re in of this little stunt? This ain’t gonna be like the time you blew up the shed, you’re gonna be grounded until the day you graduate high school. Maybe even college.” Dean said.

“You blew up a shed?” Cas, Gabriel and Jack all asked, staring at Claire mix of horror (Cas) and awe (Jack and Gabriel).

“Ok, I didn’t blow up the shed. I started a small fire in the shed by accident.” Claire retorted. Dean and Cas both groaned as Jack walked over to give Claire a high five.

“I really love this kid.” Gabriel announced.

“Oh Jesus.” Dean muttered at the same as Cas. They both glanced at one another for a moment before Dean turned his attention back to Claire. “You. Car. Now.”

I should have stayed hiding upstairs. Cas thought as he stared, yes he was staring, at Dean. How was it possible that Dean looked even better after twelve years? Dean in his early twenties had been a sight to behold but Dean in his late thirties was a thing of beauty. His boyish good looks had turned into handsome roguishness.

“Dad, I can’t leave yet. We’ve just laid the table.” Claire said to Dean.

"We thought you'd be hungry after driving all day so Claire and I made dinner." Cas said. In reality Gabriel had dragged him into the kitchen wherein he’d found Claire already making chilli. Cas wasn’t going to tell Dean that.

"That's a nice thought but-"

"Dad, I know all you've eaten today was gas store jerky.” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “Am I right?” she asked Jack who just nodded. “See? Now wash your hands, sit down and eat this damn chilli because I’m Aunt Eileen’s recipe and I know that’s your favourite.” Claire said, pointing a chilli covered wooden spoon at Dean. Cas simply could not fight the smile that spread across his face when he saw Dean’s terrified expression.

“Fine, just chill out. God you sound like Ellen when you do that.” Dean said, going over the sink to wash his hands before grabbing a seat and sitting down. Cas rolled his eyes, not even realising he was doing it until Dean looked over and glared. Dean was nearly forty and he was pouting like a small child.

“Well while you all enjoy this little family reunion I’m going to grab some wine...maybe a enough for a vineyard.” Gabriel said as he sauntered out the room.

“Does Gabriel live here?” Dean asked Jack.

“No, he was getting his condo renovated so he stayed here for a while. He’s back home now.”

“Longest eight weeks of my entire life.” Cas said quietly. “Jack, can you help Claire dish up?”

“Sure thing, let me run my bags upstairs and I’ll be right back.” Jack said.

“Oh I’ll help you!” Claire said as they both ran out the room.

“Nice to know subtly isn’t their strong point.” Dean said with a nervous laugh. Cas just let out a long sigh and sat down across from Dean.

“Yes, I’m starting to think they might be plotting something.” Cas said. “If Claire is anything like Jack in the determination department then we might be in trouble.”

“Oh believe me, Claire does not need any help when it comes to determination. She can wrap anyone round her finger. You know I still have a scar on my forehead from when she made me go rollerblading?”

“You went rollerblading?” Cas asked, utterly baffled by the idea of Dean Winchester going rollerblading.

“Not voluntarily.” Dean said. Cas laughed and was shocked to see Dean’s face light up. “Um...I’m sorry to crash your evening like this. I didn’t think that I’d be here tonight.”

“No, when I went to the train station to pick up Jack I didn’t expect to see my twelve year old daughter.” Cas said. “You don’t have to apologise, I’ve enjoyed having Claire here.”

“Yeah, I really liked spending time with Jack, he’s a good kid.” Dean said. “Listen Cas-”

“Got the wine!” Gabriel said, strolling back into the kitchen holding two bottles of red wine. “Where’s Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Here!” Jack and Claire said in unison. Cas had a feeling the two had just been waiting outside the door for at least a minute. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the smug look Jack gave Claire as they were dishing up dinner. Gabriel kept himself busy by pouring all the adults generous glasses of wine. Dean tried to protest because he still needed to drive back to Kansas but Gabriel laughed him off.

“So Deano, what have you been up to all these years?” Gabriel asked after nearly ten minutes of awkward silence while they ate.

“Oh...um...not much…” Dean said, staring down at his chilli.

“You have!” Claire intoned. She turned to Gabriel and Cas with a proud look on her face. “When Uncle Bobby decided to retire five years ago Dad brought his share of the garage. It’s expanded so much over the past few years that last year Dad brought the empty lot next door. He’s restoring a 1957 Chevy Bel Air at the moment and it’s awesome.” Claire said with so much pride in her voice that it made Cas smile fondly. Dean had always had a love for classic cars and he was happy to see that he had made his passion a profession.

“That’s amazing Dean, you should be proud.” Cas said.

“He is, he’s just awful at saying it.” Claire said. “We’ve got this old Firebird in the garage back home that Dad’s slowly been restoring. It’s really cool.”

“Are you planning on selling it once it’s restored?”

“Um...no...I mean, I was thinkin’ bout it but Claire loves the car so much that I’m planning on giving it to her as a graduation present.” Dean said, looking away from his plate of chilli to give Claire a quick, but loving, smile. “That’s if she gets good grades and promises to take care of it.” he added and Claire laughed.

“Me and Jack could take a twin road trip when we both graduate.” Claire said excitedly. “See the grand canyon or hike Yosemite!”

“And Yellowstone! We could see the geothermal pools.” Jack said with as much excitement as Claire.

“You know most teenagers would want to go to Tijuana.” Gabriel said.

“Does Tijuana have cool rock formations like Antelope Canyon? If not I don’t care about it.” Jack said and once again he and Claire high fived. It was at that moment Cas realised this wasn’t going to be easy. Claire and Jack knew about each other now. They’d bonded while at camp and separating them again would not only break their hearts but Cas’ as well.

“Yeah well, we’ll see.” Dean said in a small voice, catching Cas’ eye. This isn’t going to end well he said with his eyes. Cas nodded in agreement. While Claire and Jack began to plan a road trip that was several years away, Cas coughed to get Dean’s attention.

“I’m glad you’re doing something you love, with the garage I mean.”

“Oh...yeah, well you always knew it was a dream of mine to have my own garage.”

“I did and if I remember rightly I said that it would become a reality.” Cas said.

“Yeah well, it’s not as big as working in the white house but…”

“Dean, I think we both know that your job is far more interesting than mine. I talk about budgets all day while you-”

“Are stuck in the guts of a car and come home covered in axle grease? Seriously, Claire hoses me down some days.” Dean said letting out a small laugh as, once again, he glanced fondly at Claire.

“She’s amazing, I have to say. You’ve done an amazing job in raising her.” Cas said and he really meant it. True, most of the time he’d spent with a teenage Claire included Cas ‘spiralling’ but he’d enjoyed it.

“You say that now because she’s on her best behaviour...sort of. You do remember she set fire to the shed right? You’ve got the real winner with Jack. That kid, he’s just awesome. Really smart, kind of reminds me of Sam.”

“Can we both agree that our kids are amazing and leave it at that?” Cas asked. Dean chuckled and Cas was flooded with memories at the sound. His stomach ached with longing to make Dean laugh like that again and again. This really wasn’t going to end well at all.

#deancas parent trap #deancas fic #destiel fic #wanderingcas #deancas #destiel #part five will be up tomorrow cause it's already written #namely i had to cut this part down because it was already getting too long #like always if you want to be in the tag list just let me know!#hope you guys like these because i'm doing zero house stuff while writing this

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its-just-a-fayz · 3 years

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Heartbeat On Air: Chapter 17

read on ao3

chapter 16/chapter 18

masterpost

tag list: @emilybarger @lordcheesy @sheeswee @tayuya3 @sweetlialia (hit up my askbox if you want to be added/removed)

Rarely did Astrid feel like drinking her emotions away, but she was missing Diana, she was in Perdido, which was full of memories of Diana. But she at least had the self respect to not go to an actual bar. While some of her floormates might think a one-night stand after a breakup was how you got over things, Astrid wholeheartedly disagreed.

So she found herself at The Healing Place, breezing past the hostess stand and to one of the barstools. An unfamiliar waitress was behind the counter. “What can I get you?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe like, a Sprite? With alcohol. Even though I’m not legally allowed to drink.” God, she was a mess, and crying about Diana about twice a week wasn’t helping. Neither was the late hour.

“You sound like you need a Lana,” the waitress said, leaning against the taps. “I’ll get you that, on the house.”

All Astrid fully registered was the “on the house.” She mumbled out a thanks.

Lana slid into the stool next to her. “What’s on your mind?”

Astrid startled. She hadn’t realized Lana was there for a second. “Oh nothing. If you can consider Diana nothing. Which I am having a really hard time doing. Where’s my drink?”

“You two broke up, huh?” Lana handed Astrid a Sprite.

“Yes. Affirmative. I wish we hadn’t. I miss her.” Astrid took a sip from her drink. The carbonated bubbles only reminded her of eating here with Diana, and it wasn’t helping. Even though that was a stupid thing to be sad about.

“So she broke up with you,” Lana offered. “That’s gotta suck.”

“I…I guess she did, but it doesn’t feel like it,” Astrid said, ignoring the way that her voice wobbled. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got a long time to listen to it,” Lana said, her voice soft and caring, like a hug you can just sink into.

Astrid barely knew Lana, but she found herself telling her the whole story of how they broke up. The story tumbled out of her like a waterfall, Caine, Sam, Quinn, celebrities, and radio stations all. It felt good to really talk about it with someone, to let the story live outside of her for a bit. Even as she choked back tears, it felt nice.

Lana didn’t say a word through her whole story, just listened to everything she had to say, nodding a little. When Astrid finished, she said, “Do you know where this Caine guy lives? I just want to talk.”

“Nice joke, but from what I’ve heard about him from Sam and Diana, he’s a dangerous person with dangerous friends. As in, untouchable.” She heaved a sigh.

“I’m a dangerous girl, and I am absolutely willing to pound this asshole’s ears into his brain,” Lana said, matter-of-fact as can be.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Lana, but I don’t even want to think about Caine right now. I just miss Diana, and it’s killing me.” She slumped forward on the counter, staring at the Sprite like the bubbles were going to give her an answer.

“Well, think of the positives,” Lana said, leaning forward with her.

“What positives? My loving girlfriend of five months broke up with me because of her ex and I’m a college student trying to not fail literally all of my classes.” Astrid took a sip of her drink, setting the glass down a bit too hard.

“Diana didn’t want to break up with you, Astrid. I saw you two, she loved you as much as you loved her. She probably did it because she wanted you to be safe. She’s probably as heartbroken over this as you are.” Lana paused, forming her words. “You guys had five wonderful months of happiness and love. Now, it sucks that it had to end, but isn’t that better than nothing?”

For once, Astrid didn’t respond immediately, letting the thoughts roll over in her head. “I guess I’d rather know Diana and be her girlfriend and kiss her and touch her and have sex with her than…” Never know her as anything but Huntress.

“See? It’s not all awful.” Lana patted Astrid on the back, and the younger girl leaned into the touch. “If you need to cry about it, cry. Do whatever it takes to move on, Astrid, and I’ll be there to help you if you need it.”

“I’ve already cried,” Astrid mumbled. At Lana’s look of confusion, she repeated, “I’ve already cried. I want to put it in the past, somehow. All of it. Every single second of every minute of every hour that I spent with her.”

“You can tell me,” Lana said, noting the tears and snot on Astrid’s face. “I promise I won’t laugh at all the first times and during the serious parts. I won’t even talk if you don’t want.”

“I dunno,” Astrid said, sniffling. Goddamnit, she’d really thought she was done with the crying part. “There’s so much, and I might end up crying again.”

“That’s ok. How did you guys meet?” Lana asked, and then Astrid let all of the memories and moments spill out of her in waves. She told Lana everything, and it felt like a relief. Lana barely talked, just offered a shoulder to cry on. And sometimes that was all Astrid needed.

The diner closed at midnight, and Lana offered to drive Astrid back to Berkeley. Wordlessly, Astrid handed her the car keys and followed Lana to her car. They got in, Astrid taking the seat where Diana had sat next to her so many times, and they had barely turned onto the interstate when Astrid was telling Lana about moving into her dorms and kissing on the newly made bed.

Lana parked Astrid’s car in the appropriate lot, and Astrid took the keys and got out. She felt better, but also worse. It was three in the morning, and dark circles were appearing under Lana’s eyes. Astrid assumed she looked the same. Lana stepped out of the car.

“I’ll leave you here, Astrid. You’re a tough cookie, and you’re going to get through this.” She gave Astrid a parting hug.

Astrid opened the door to her building, then turned back to Lana. “How-how are you getting home?”

“I have friends. Cigar’s picking me up, I texted him before me left. Don’t worry about me, I’m not the one with a broken heart.”

And like that, Lana Arwen Lazar walked away into the darkness.

***

Brrzzt

Oh god, did Astrid have a class at this ungodly hour? Fuck, fuck. She floundered for her phone before grabbing it and turning it on.

Nope. Just one text from Sam Temple and three from Quinn Gaither. And this ungodly hour was 10:30 AM. Astrid rolled into a more comfortable position and read through the texts.

Sam had sent a small Hey, just checking to make sure you’re doing alright.

Quinn had sent Lana said you were going through some tough shit

I don’t know you that well but um that fuckin sucks bro

Any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine and if you want to do something or talk that’s cool

Astrid noted that they had both sent the messages privately, not on the groupchat. Individual concern, nice. Lana must have let them know, which she didn’t mind. It was a nice gesture, especially since she really liked hanging out with them. They were good guys, and great friends.

***

“And that’s all for tonight, everyone,” Diana said into the microphone. “I’ve got to get some sleep, and if you’re listening, you probably do too. Huntress, signing off.” She pressed the button and slumped back in her chair.

It had taken a lot of schedule scrambling, to the displeasure of the other DJs, but she’d managed to get a shift away from Caine. Diana was one misdemeanor away from firing his ass, but she couldn’t take the stress of it. He was bound to try and manipulate her if she fired him, not to mention redoing schedules so that his slot would be covered and finding a replacement and fucking paperwork.

The fake cheeriness of her on-air voice dissipated as Diana shuffled around the room, collecting her possessions. She flicked off the light in the booth before walking out of the building. No one was here at this hour, Diana was the only one crazy enough to take the night shift. Belle and Mary would be here in the morning to do the talk show, but for now Diana’s footsteps were the only sound in the building.

She decided to take a moment and look at the stars once outside, taking a seat on a bus bench. It was an unusually clear night, but Diana’s thoughts were everything but clear. Work swirled in her head, mixed in with her love life. Or, currently, lack thereof.

For a second, Diana imagined Astrid next to her, pointing out the constellations. They’d never been stargazing together, but Diana wished they had. She could hear Astrid’s laughter as Diana mispronounced an ancient Greek name, picture the taste of her lips when the stars were no longer enough to keep them occupied.

Diana snapped out of it, blinking her eyes to get rid of the fantasy. Whatever she and Astrid had was over. It wasn’t safe with Caine still working at 104.5. She had done the right thing, no matter how much it hurt both of them. Caine could kill them. Diana had gazed into his eyes often enough, she knew there was a murderer living there.

But goddamn it, she missed Astrid. Her soul fucking ached, and it hurt. She wanted Astrid, and some delusional corner of her mind was convinced she needed her. There was a solution here, but either Diana was looking in the wrong places, or intentionally avoiding it.

***

Now that the trial was over, Sam was hoping that his life would move somewhere in the direction of normal. His mother had gotten a job working at the local diner, which eased his stresses, but now he was worried about college. Could he even afford it?

Sam scrolled through the websites hundreds of times before sending in a few applications. He didn’t tell Connie. She was doing incredibly well after the trial (and the generous court settlement check helped), but Sam didn’t trust it. The whole situation felt fragile, and he didn’t know if finances would push Constance over the edge again. He’d hate to lose her income, especially when he knew they needed it.

Connie came home with tales about bad customers and good ones alike, telling them to Sam even when he wasn’t listening. She didn’t manage the money any more, letting Sam be the head of the household when it came to finances. But he knew he had to tell her sooner or later.

“Hey mom,” Sam said one night over dinner. “I applied to a few colleges, do you think I’ll be able to go?”

“I don’t know, Sam, I think that might be too much stress on both of us,” Connie replied, filling up her cup with more lemonade. “Maybe wait a year or two.”

“Well, this is kind of a gap year to begin with,” Sam said, “And I don’t want to take more than one, otherwise my high school knowledge won’t be fresh and I’ll have to retake some classes.”

“You’re smart, Sam. I’m sure remembering won’t be a problem. Besides, I’d miss you.” She took a bite of her hamburger, as if to cut off the conversation.

“It would help me, I don’t know, get a better job?” He posed it as a question, not sure whether Connie would shut him down or not.

“Let’s talk about this later.”

#gone #gone series #astrid ellison #lana arwen lazar #quinn gaither #sam temple #diana ladris #gone fic #look at me update guys look at me go

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 6 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! it took me a while but here's a new update I hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-6-

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jan complained.

Jackie lifted her gaze from the book she was reading.

“This is the third time you say that… algebra can’t possibly be that bad.”

“For your consideration, there aren’t even numbers on these exercises, it’s Math… there should be numbers… where are the numbers?” She whined.

“Don’t look at me, why do you think I chose Art History? After high school, I promised myself my relationship with calculus was over.”

Jan sighed but focused on the assignment once again.

“Okay… I’m done… that was the last exercise of the sheet. I refuse to keep using my brain for what’s left of the day.”

Jackie chuckled.

They were alone in the copy room. It had been one of those quiet days; it was raining outside so Jan’s practice had been canceled but luckily her friend enjoyed her company while she did homework as well. In the past two hours, only a lost student walked in begging for a copy of a study guide for a mid-term for the following day. Jackie had the radio on and she had let the younger chose the station, Jan had picked a bubblegum pop radio that kept playing songs from the ’00s and the 10’s –to which she had found Jackie mumbling the lyrics a couple of times.

As much as she hated to miss her practice, she had to admit it was the first time in two weeks she had a moment to breathe. With her responsibilities and new hobby involved, she barely had time to take a break.

Jackie had her eyes on the book and one hand on the computer’s keyboard. She had been writing notes non-stop since her meeting with the dean. As she had explained it to Jan, her complaint had been discussed, and even when she presented a well-written note and had some witnesses to back it up, the only thing the university was doing was reprimand him and, –since it was the first time someone had said something about the professor’s behavior- let him continue his classes with a warning.

In terms of Jackie’s situation, they had dictated that she’d be able to present a final assignment that would include several –if not all- units of the program, and it would be evaluated by a panel of professors from similar backgrounds, to make it fair. The thing was that her former professor was the one that had formulated the questions and, aside from being a lot, they were pretty gimmicky and for all those reasons, she had started the assignment way earlier than the semester was over, just to be sure.

“Okay, I’m done for the day too.” She closed her notebook. “I feel like there’s smoke coming from my ears or something.”

“Oh, was it you? I thought it was one of the machines.”

Jackie scrunched her nose. “Anyway, it seems like it’s a slow day and I have ten more minutes here so… Do you want to go watch a movie at the cinema?”

“At the cinema? Whoa… I haven’t thought about it but it’s been ages since I went to watch a movie…”

“Is that a yes…?” Jackie did her best to hide her nervousness behind the question.

“Sure. But I have to warn you, I’m not good with horror movies.” Jan shrugged.

“I saw that coming… But there’s this old cinema called Bellamy, we could ride the subway and would be there in no time. They play random movies every day so we could just get there and grab a couple of tickets for the next feature. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. Oh! I’ll put it on the group chat in case anyone else wants to tag along.”

Jackie’s lips turned into a thin line. “Okay… you do that and I’ll finish here.”

Jan hadn’t even noticed the shift in the girl’s mood, she was way too excited typing the message on her phone.

“I hope you’re not upset but it seems it’s going to be just me and you,” Jan mentioned while Jackie closed the door of the copy room. “Everyone’s plans or they are studying or… I don’t know.”

“Oh… no… it’s fine by me if it’s fine for you.”

“Of course! It’ll be fun!” She smiled.

It was still raining outside so they shared Jackie’s red umbrella that matched with her rain boots.

“What’s with this downpour?” Jackie wiped some drops from her clothes once they got underground. “Okay, here we go.”

Jan seemed amused. “I have never ridden the subway… well, back when I was like four I’m sure my mom took us me and my brother but I have no memories of it whatsoever.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly. Honestly, it’s one of the easiest ways to travel when it’s not packed.”

Without objecting, Jan followed Jackie’s lead up close. They almost coordinated steps to avoid puddles while running; the comical situation got them laughing at loud all their way to the subway station.

“I’m out of breath.” Jackie leaned against one column before closing the umbrella.

They shook some drops out of their clothes and waited for the subway to arrive. When it arrived not even five minutes later, they rushed to climb onto the wagon before they got pushed by others passengers. At least with the rain, there was place to move and even some seats available.

Jan had decided she liked riding the subway, it was a great place to observe the diversity of the fauna of the city. There were all kinds of people around probably heading to their works or their homes or to meet friends or just somewhere different. It was exciting, to consider the unlimited possibilities.

She looked at Jackie and displayed a giant grin that had the other girl blushing lightly and looking away.

“So how did you find this place?” Jan asked after a couple of minutes.

It caught Jackie out of guard. “Huh? What do you mean?” She frowned lightly.

“I was wondering how did you find this place since it’s not near the campus.”

“Oh that… I actually discovered it a couple of years ago. Things at home with my mom after the divorce weren’t precisely on the best terms so after school I never got straight back there. Instead, I started wandering around and taking the subway or the bus to go anywhere really.” Her voice threatened with breaking but she quickly cleared her throat. “One of those times I ended up in this old building, a theatre with so much history and they played these movies I had never seen before so… I stayed there ever since.”

“Whoa… that’s…” Jan wanted to reach for her hand but the older girl hurried to jump off the seat.

“This is our stop.” She pointed out.

“Alright. We’re here.”

“We are.” Jackie showed her a smile and grabbed the umbrella, ready to face the rain. “Let’s go.”

They had arrived just in time for Carrie but since Jan had stated she didn’t enjoy horror films, they waited ten minutes for the next movie to start. Coincidentally, it was My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn so it would also work for research purposes –or that was what Jan said- aside from the fact she had never watched it.

Jackie couldn’t say she was a newbie to Hepburn’s movies, she had watched all of them at least once but having company was new to her. Since getting into college she had stopped needing the cinema as an escape, a way to avoid reality at least for a couple hours; it was after meeting her friends and starting her classes that she eventually had less time to go there or simply, didn’t need it anymore.

Now, it was a whole different scenario. She had Jan next to her and it was a bit magical to see her in the dark with the light of the screen reflecting on her face, something that made her heart race. She would’ve died to hold her hand at that instant but it was true that she’d also die if she touched her as if Jan held the power of burning her with a mere contact.

Then, the screen went black and the credits started rolling, the movie was over.

They waited until most people had left the room and then they walked out.

“So, did you like the movie?”

Jan tilted her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a period piece from time to time and the costumes were iconic but… Professor Higgins is awful!” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her displeasure. “He spent all this time torturing Eliza… changing her to the point where she couldn’t go back to her life. That’s a psychopath.”

“Oh thank God, we agree.” Jackie sighed with relief.

“No wonder Rosé and her classmates changed part of the plot because…”

“Yeah. I’m dying to see that. How are the rehearsals going by the way?”

“They are great, I have a small part… the equivalent of one of those ladies on the horse races and I appear in two numbers but the rehearsals are so much fun with everyone. It's a nice group of people that are passionate about musicals.”

They got out of the room and saw the people already gathering for the next feature. The smell of popcorn was strong in the air just like the humidity of the rain on the carpet.

Jackie spotted a familiar face and her eyes lighted up. “Oh my God, Sophie!” She waved toward a short old woman with white hair and giant round glasses. “Jan, you have to meet Sophie”

“Jackie, darling.” She shuffled toward them. She pulled Jackie for a tight hug. The woman barely reached her waist.

“Sophie, this is my friend, Jan.” She introduced them.

“Hi-” Before Jan could say something else, Sophie also hugged her.

“Sophie is the owner of the theatre,” Jackie explained once the old lady let the younger breathe.

“Oh! That’s awesome. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I have waited for ages for Jackie to finally bring a special someone…”

“No!” Jackie shook her head. “It’s- It’s not like that at all… We’re friends.”

“Pardon me, it’s only that when you introduced me to this lovely young lady I just thought… maybe someone had finally melted your cold façade.”

“Oh, Sophie… what are you saying?” She laughed nervously, her face was completely red. “Don’t listen to her… she’s old.”

Jan giggled. “It’s alright. I adore Jackie, she’s one of my best friends.”

“I haven’t seen this one in a while, you’d think she vanished or something.” The woman pointed.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I should’ve called you at least.”

“For sure.” Sophie nagged.

“It won’t happen again… I’ll come back more often after the midterms, I promise it.”

“Oh darling, you haven’t heard, have you?”

Jackie looked puzzled. “What?”

“The Bellamy is going to be demolished.”

“What?!” The girl’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“How?” Jan asked, in disbelief as well.

“Well, a group of rich people has decided this is the perfect location to build one of those department stores.”

“No, no, no… this can’t be. This place is sacred, part of the cultural heritage of the city, it can’t be destroyed to build a mall.”

The old lady shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it, it’s already written.” She patted Jackie’s shoulder. “Listen, honey, the important thing is that this place served its purpose for a long, long time and we got to enjoy it.”

Jackie was on the verge of tears. “How can you say that? How can you give up just like that? Without even putting a fight? The Bellamy is not just another cinema.”

The girl stormed out of the theatre before anyone else could say something.

“Wait! Jackie!” Jan shouted but she lost the girl in the crowd. “I’m sorry, I’m sure she didn’t mean any of that.” She softly explained to Sophie.

“You don’t need to tell me, I know. Now go after her, she needs a friend right now.”

“Yeah… I will…” Jan turned around.

“Oh, and Jan, one more thing,” Sophie called. “keep an eye on her, she seems inscrutable sometimes but she’s sensitive underneath.”

Jan displayed a tiny smile. “I know.”

“Jackie! Jackie wait!”

As if it didn’t matter at all, it had stopped raining.

She found the elder laying against the wall, next to a Casablanca poster that had been there since… well… probably since Casablanca first premiered.

Jackie’s cheeks were wet and her eyes reddened but she had wiped all the tears before Jan got closer.

“Hey… I’m so sorry.” Jan looked at her with soft eyes.

Jackie closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe it… this theatre is a home to me.”

“There must be a way to save it, we’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t know… it seems impossible… even Sophie has renounced.”

“Then we’ll convince her as well.” Jan grabbed her wrists. “We’ll find a way, there’s always a way.”

“Okay, Disney Channel Original Movie motivational speech.”

Jan chuckled. “What do you say if –for now- we go home and pick something to eat? I’m starving and... is it me or popcorn buckets are getting smaller?”

She got a smile from Jackie, that was a win.

“Plus, if I want to become a subway expert I’m supposed to ride it again, right?”

“I suppose that’s correct.”

“I’m telling you, I know this vegetarian place that has the best eggplant tacos and veggie sushi…” Jackie was commenting when they returned to the dorms.

“Sounds amazing, just let me pick some money from my room and we’ll be ready to go. You can come with me if you want.”

“Alright.”

They climbed the stairs until Jan stopped in her tracks making Jackie almost bump into her.

“Hey, careful there…”

But the brunette was petrified, watching the scene that happened on the very same floor of her dormitory. It took Jackie a moment to locate the event that had caused such commotion but as soon as she saw it, she just wished her friend hadn’t.

There he was, Nathan, the object of her affections, walking out the room of a girl that lived in the building. A different girl, it wasn’t the girl from the first day or another girl she had seen him with before. This was a gorgeous girl –like the others- but there was something different about him -him with her- the way he put the missing lock behind her ear and got closer to press a chaste kiss on her lips, the way they smiled after their lips touched.

Jan felt sick to her stomach, her face got pale and she barely could hold the tears.

The couple returned to the room and right when the door closed, she ran directly to her room. She desperately searched for the keys.

“Jan? Are you…?” Jackie touched her shoulder.

Jan sobbed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… I just… I need to find the keys… it’s like I can’t find them anywhere.” She kept rummaging her backpack without result.

It was too late, she broke into tears, her knees gave in and she ended on the floor.

“I’m sorry, this must look so stupid in comparison to the theatre but… It hurts so badly.” Her voice broke into pieces. “I keep telling myself it’s just another girl but there’s always another girl… It's exhausting.”

“Oh, Jan… no…” Jackie kneeled next to her and embraced her in a hug. “It’s not you.”

“I know that… it will never be me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She finally found her keys and got up.

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I’ve lost my appetite.” Her voice sounded weak, distant.

“No, wait… you don’t have to be alone right now.” Jackie hurried to stand up.

“I really… really… want to be alone.” She sobbed harder. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” She closed the door on Jackie’s face as soon as she got in.

“Jan!” Jackie knocked on the door. “Jan… please don’t do this. Jan, please… open the door.”

She tried for another five minutes but finally gave up. Jan wasn’t opening the door and the best Jackie could do was texting Rosé hoping the girl would come home earlier to take care of her.

It broke Jackie’s heart to see her like that, especially for a guy like Nathan, one that wasn’t worth the tears.

The following day, it surprised Jackie to find a text message from Jan early in the morning –earlier than any of her classes.

From Jan 🐻: Meet me at Lucky’s before class. It’s important.

Jackie jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready as soon as she read it, after a night of poor sleep she was waiting for that text message.

She walked straight to the diner and found her friend sitting on a table with her computer open and her pink-haired roommate sitting in front of her.

“Hey...” She approached the table.

“Jackie, you’re here!” Jan greeted with the same energetic tone she had –even that early in the morning. Although she looked hyped, the bags under her eyes told a different story.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Jackie asked before taking a seat next to her. She also eyed Rosé who just shrugged.

“Peachy.” She smiled. “Would you like a cup of coffee maybe? Waffles? Pancakes? French toast?”

“The waffles are really good.” Rosé pointed.

“Thanks… I’ll have some eggs maybe but… what’s going on? Yesterday…”

“Yesterday was yesterday and today is today.” Jan gestured with her hands. “I texted you because I have something super important to show you.” She pointed at her computer's screen.

That was it? They were going to pretend the Nathan incident hadn’t happened at all? Well, at least for Jan, that was the case.

“Alright… tell me.”

“So, I did some research and I believe it is possible to save the theatre if we gather enough evidence to prove it has historic importance for the city.” The page of the culture ministry was opened along with at least fifty different tabs on the subject.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

“I was hoping you’d come with an idea since you know the place better than me. Maybe Sophie could tell us some story or we could do our own research.”

Jackie sighed. “I guess it could work but we’d need to invest hours on this and… are you sure you want to do it? I feel like you have a lot on your plate already.”

“Oh no, she devoured the pancakes the second the plate touched the table, trust me.” Rosé assured.

“I was hungry and I didn’t eat them right away, they drew a face with the blueberries so I took a picture and posted it on Instagram first.” She shook her head. “As I was saying, this is important for you, Jackie and I want to help.” She stared at her, hoping she would convince her with those arguments.

“Jan, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t even try it.” Rosé mumbled. “I already did and she chose to ignore me categorically so I followed her here to make sure she didn’t jump from a bridge or something.”

“She’s also here to hit on my coworker so it’s really a win-win situation.”

They high-fived.

“That’s lovely… but we should talk about what happened last night…”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jan stated. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think…”

But Jackie was interrupted by Denali.

“Hi, how’s it going over here? Do you guys want something else?” She had her eyes fixed on her notebook.

“Can I get a cup of Americano and scrambled eggs?” Jackie asked. She needed some coffee to go through it.

“Right away. Do you girls would like something else? More coffee?”

“We’re good.” Jan smiled.

“Oh, Jan, I have your check over there if you want to collect it right now.”

“Thank you, Nali. I’ll be there in a second.”

Rosé cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

But it was like the cat had caught the pink-haired girl’s tongue.

“…if you can pour more coffee for me?”

“Sure.” She smiled politely but it was clear that Rosé was melting inside.

Once the waitress left, all the eyes were on Rosé.

“What? I got paralyzed. I can’t do it. I can’t. It is physically impossible for me to ask her out, my body reacts like that.”

“I believe, as science people and Twitter users have once referred to it, that's a case of gay panic. Have you tried in a different way?” Jackie asked before sipping some of Jan’s coffee. “What is this?” She winced.

“Decaffeinated.”

“Ugh…”

“Bitch, I have tried… I even left my number written on a $20 bill when I went to the bathroom earlier, hoping she’d see it but it’s like I’m invisible.”

“That’s not right. Denali loves to flirt and she’s single so I don’t see why she wouldn’t say yes. Oh, I know, you could invite her to the play's opening night.”

Jackie looked at the younger, Jan had dodged the conversation about her but there was no way her friend wasn’t going to dig into it later.

“Maybe I can pave the way for you… find out if she’s having a rough morning or something that affects her response.”

“Would you do that for me?” Rosé didn’t sound so sure about it.

“Of course, I have to pick up my check… my first check here.”

“Congratulations.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Thank you.” She then touched her roommate’s arm. “Leave it to me. I’ll be subtle.”

“Jan…” Before Rosé could say something, she was already heading toward the counter.

“Was it bad?” Jackie asked once the brunette left.

“Girl… You have no idea.” Rosé sighed.

“Thank you, Nali.” Jan held the check proudly in her hands.

“Is your name correct?”

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“Remember you work tomorrow so have a moderate amount of fun with it and stay away from ice skates and acrylic nails hot sales… Huh… I guess that only applies to me.” Denali turned around.

“Denali… I was wondering…”

The raven-haired girl dropped a pile of napkins.

“Shit. Don’t tell anyone but I forgot to put my contacts on this morning and basically, I can’t see shit without these giant glasses.” She murmured before quickly putting a pair of dark frame glasses on. She grabbed the napkins and after typing something on the computer, took them off immediately.

“Oh… that explains a lot actually…”

“What do you mean?”

Subtle Jan, subtle.

“So my roommate likes you.”

Denali almost tripped. “Wait, what?”

“She’s been trying to ask you out for the past weeks but she feels like you’re ignoring her.”

Denali dragged Jan behind the counter with her and kneeled before putting the glasses back on.

“Which one is your roommate?” She whispered.

“The one with the pink hair that comes here often… is a regular. You can't ignore her she's like one of those anime main characters with the funky hair.”

“Oh my God, Fine Wine is your roommate?”

“What?”

“She’s always singing that Kylie Minogue song and I thought it was a joke since you guys call her Rosé but…”

“That’s her name.”

“Well, she is fine wine.” Denali pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah? She even left a $20 bill with her number as a tip for you?”

“That was her?! I thought it was one of the creepy guys from table six. Oh my God…” She grabbed the jar of tips and started searching for the bill.

“Bitch if I’m missing a single dollar from that jar I swear to God…” Kandy yelled from the other side of the diner.

“Shut up, I’m in the middle of something here…” Finally, she pulled out the bill with pink glitter ink.

“It says XOXO Rosé.”

“What part of «I’m not wearing glasses» you didn't catch?”

"Is that a yes, though?

Denali nodded. She removed the glasses and waved toward their table. “Hey Rosé, if you’re not busy tonight, I’ll call you!”

Rosé blushed instantly but she nodded with a smile on her face.

Jackie, behind her, just shook her head, acknowledging that the shenanigans of her friend had worked out once again.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #rosnali #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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harringtonstudios · 5 years

Text

teenage dirtbag. (part I)

plot: you’ve just gotten a job at Chipotle, your co-worker’s kind of an ass. part 2!

A/N: icky day of another icky week. this keeps me sane! lemme know your thoughts :) gif credit: @mgkgifs; inspired by Kells’ own interview haha

masterlist!

Life after graduation was supposed to be amazing. Some big thing, attending college and living up the seemingly best years of your life. Of course, that’d all gone up in flames when you’d been kicked out over some stupid argument, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Cleveland wasn’t the nicest place to sit on the streets until the sun came out, but you’d managed to nap on park benches until you could piece some things together. A week later, you were staying with a friend, sleeping on their couch and you’d finally gotten a job at Chipotle in the mall.

You’d caught a break for the first time in a while, and after knowing that you had secured that stupid job, you’d ended up crying just thinking about everything. It was time to get your life back on track.

The next morning, you’d walked in to Chipotle, changed into the uniform in the employee’s only bathroom and that’s when you had run into him.

He was waiting right outside, leaning against the wall. His head was hanging down, sunglasses on, as his fingers fumbled around with a bright green lighter.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, you ran a hand down your apron before muttering out, “Hey! I’m Y/N.”

He looked up at that, acknowledging you through a nod. The lighter in his hands flickered. You stared a second before extending out your hand, hoping for a shake.

“Colson,” he mumbled, letting his hand meet yours, slightly shaking it. You smiled before leaving the area, walking up the counter. Nothing was going to ruin your mood right now, not even the weird co-worker with shades on inside.

Twenty minutes into manning the front by yourself, Colson had come up, standing by the cash register.

“So you’ve been trained?” he asked, hands stuck in the pockets of the apron.

“No,” you muttered, rolling up a customer’s burrito at the other end of the counter. The customer gave you a look as you finished wrapping the order in foil before throwing them a dazzling smile.

Looking back at Colson, you saw a surprised look on his face. His mouth was open and he scoffed a little as he rang up the order.

“So what you’re just a Chipotle fan? How’d you get everything down so fast?” he asked, returning the change before turning his attention back towards you.

“I read the instructions,” you responded, pointing at the directions that were printed and pasted on the countertop.

“Mm, rule follower,” he declared, leaning over to fiddle with the stereo system.

“I literally just got hired,” you stated back, trying not to be short with him.

While he’d been fooling around in the back, you’d snuck a peek at the work schedule for the next month. Most of your shifts were with Colson B., written in a scrawly scratch on the big calendar. You didn’t want to fight with your co-worker.

Soft static filled the air between you two, and Colson grimaced before moving back to change the radio station. Within seconds, Iron Maiden flooded the speaker system and you lit up.

“Keep that on?” you asked, already feeling a little lighter as you bounced on your heels to the music.

“You like Maiden?” he responded, tone sounding incredulous.

“Yeah dude. They’re my favorite band,” you responded, tapping to the beat now.

“Sick,” he shouted out, throwing up a rock sign. You smiled at him, maybe he wasn’t insufferable.

An hour later, you took that thought back. Colson had disappeared again, claiming he had to piss ten minutes ago. The lunch rush had started, and you were struggling to keep up with the crowd.

People were shouting over each other, loud in the small store. You couldn’t hear the customer ordering, and you’d already messed up an order, having to refund the man.

Shoving lettuce into a bowl, you moved a strand of hair out of your face before sliding the bowl down to the next station. Colson stepped back out and you huffed before muttering, “Finally. Little help?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, before shouting out, “Yoooo!”

You looked up to catch him reaching over the counter to dap a couple of guys up. They all started chatting with him, and he was pulled into the ebb and flow of their conversation.

You scoffed. Typical, you were stuck with most of the work and you were putting up with it too.

Baring a grin, you walked to the cash register, slamming the bowl on the tabletop. Colson looked at you, unimpressed as you mumbled, “Steak burrito bowl. Extra guac.”

“Congrats princess. You’ve charged someone for guac,” he stilted, reaching to put in the order. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused at his words.

“Lots to learn young padawan,” he responded, waving a tattooed arm around.

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled under your breath, turning to make the next order.

Fifteen minutes later, the store had cleared out. Exhausted, you slumped on the plastic crate sitting in the corner of the little space behind the counter.

Looking up at the thud, Colson laughed before walking over.

“First lunch rush is over!” he put his palm up for a high five, and you gave him a glare before reaching up to hit it.

“Yeah man, no thanks to you,” came tumbling out of your mouth. Immediately, you paused, trying to gauge his reaction.

He gave you a once over, then shrugged his shoulders before saying, “Don’t really care about this place. I’ve been here too long.”

“Well, I haven’t. So could you please just help me along? I don’t wanna fuck this up already,” you muttered out, exasperated with his reactions.

“You’re good dude. Prime example of a Chipotle worker. Reading all the instructions and shit, I just played around with the food the first day,” he counted off, knocking your shoulder with his hand.

“How haven’t you been fired?” you prompted, looking up at him.

Raising his sunglasses, he put them atop his head, smirking he stated, “Guess I’m just that charming.”

You rolled your eyes, hearing him laugh. His own eyes were on display, blue laced with just a little bit of bloodshot. The door dinged and you started to get up before he waved you down, moving as he mumbled, “Stay. I got this one.”

A week into, things had gotten better. You and Colson turned out to have a lot in common, falling in love with the same bands, following the same artists.

He had apologized for his behavior the first day, claiming he was just super hungover. At first, you’d been reluctant, but then he’d worked through every lunch rush to make it up to you and you’d felt good about something.

Learning more about him, you had been kinda shocked to see he was still working in a shitty Chipotle. He was talented, way beyond anyone you’d ever met. Could rap real fast, creating lyrics out of thin air.

Sometimes, during the empty parts of the day, you throw him over an ingredient, ask him to freestyle something. It was great, never the same thing twice, and always to a different beat. It drove you crazy knowing he was filled to the brim with talent, but was stuck here instead.

“Ay Y/N! Come here,” came his voice, shouting from the front. You had snuck to the back, calling up your friend to let her know you were going to be home later tonight since you had to do closing.

You walked out front, shoving your phone in your pocket only to see a group of guys gathered around the first table. They looked oddly familiar, and then you placed them. They were the guys that had come in during your first day, the big distractions.

“Y/N, these are my dudes. Dudes, Y/N!” Colson offered, waving his arms to the both of you. You got on your tip-toes, reaching across the glass to shake their hands.

“I’ve definitely seen you around. Where ya from?” one of the guys asked, hand lingering on yours. Pulling your arm back, you grinned before saying, “Around here. Graduated from Shaker.”

At that Colson gave you the strangest look as his friends laughed.

“We’re from Shaker. Class of 08. I’m Slim,” the guy clarified and you gave him a thumbs up, tuning them out as they continued talking.

A few minutes later, they waved at you, stepping out of the store. Waving back, you awkwardly turned to look at Colson, reluctant to admit that you weren’t really paying attention to his friends.

“You weren’t listening huh?” he asked, not even letting you fully turn. Laughing a little, he took his visor off, running a hand through his hair. You grimaced, laughing back before saying, “Sorry, it’s not like that. I just didn’t really know any of them.”

“So what I’m getting from this is you can be bad sometimes?” he continued, scuffing his Chucks against the linoleum.

You let out a snort before going, “Colson what does that even mean?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mumbled out, securing his visor back on as the doorbell rang.

Returning your attention to the food in front of you, you thought it over. Ever since you’d started here, he’d made fun of you, constantly egging on you for the way you followed the rules.

He was much more lax with his position, coming in high or hungover, playing with the radio all day long and once even lighting up in the backroom. You didn’t really care what he did on his own time, but the last one had caused your anxiety to spike and you’d yelled at him just a little.

Finishing up, the customer dropped a dollar into the tip jar before heading out the door. It was just you two again.

Reaching over to tune the radio, you grinned as another Iron Maiden song came on. He smiled, eyes not really leaving his phone but you were determined to spend just the right way killing time.

Poking him in the shoulder, you danced a little on the floor. He looked up at that, nodding along to the bass. Soon enough, the both of you were shuffling to the song, hands in the air. He was playing air guitar, and you laughed at his technique, mimicking it across from him.

“What,” he breathed out, flushed from the rock concert you’d just put on.

“Never saw someone play guitar like that,” you uttered, moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You play?” he asked, motioning the fake guitar towards you.

“Yeah, I used to,” you responded, taking it from him. Adjusting the air strap, you flashed back to high school days when your guitar was your escape. Playing the strings, you let a couple of chord songs drop out of your mouth.

“Learn something new about you every day,” he observed, watching you string with your eyes closed.

“Huh,” you asked, breaking out of your bubble.

“You had a guitar?” he continued, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Um yeah, back in high school. I had to leave it at my old place,” you mumbled out, fingers going to run over the small tattoo on your wrist.

“Sorry,” he peeked out, seeing the discomfort on your face.

“No, you’re good. So, you went to Shaker?” you asked, changing the topic.

He snorted out before saying, “Messed around at Shaker is more like it. Don’t really know how I graduated but here I am,” he finished out, waving his arms around at the empty space around you.

“Hey dude! Same!” you shouted out, palms reaching over to clap them onto his shoulder. He laughed at your enthusiastic face, shaking away his smile as you tapped your fingers against him.

Motley Crue filled the air and you bit your lip, resisting the urge to bang your fists onto his shoulders with the beat.

Moving away, you handed him two straws, taking a paper cup of your own. He got the message, drumming in thin air as you pretended to string along the guitar.

The whole song, you two kept flashing smiles at each other, raging as the music just got louder. Finally, the song came to an end and you grabbed two cups, moving out of the counter to get water from the fountain.

Trying to catch your breath back, you smiled to yourself while pressing the buttons, thinking about how Colson’s energy had matched yours perfectly.

“C’mon live a little,” came a voice from right behind and you turned your head to see Colson right behind you, closer than you expected.

“Mm no thanks,” you responded, bringing up the second cup to the water option. Within a second, his arm came from behind, hand guiding yours to the Lemonade option.

You begrudgingly held the cup as he filled it up, waiting to hand it back to him.

“We’re not supposed to do that,” you murmured, moving back to the counter, moment gone.

He let out a loud groan, facing you from the other side before saying, “Y/N. I promise you they don’t care.”

“How do you know that,” you spit back, sipping at the water, eyes motioning to the cameras on the ceiling.

“They don’t work. Believe me, I’ve been doing stupid shit since I got hired and I’m still here.”

“Stupid shit?” you wondered, interest peaking a little.

“Yeah extra chicken if I’m on scooping. Don’t charge for extras, and sometimes you know I just give out food,” he listed before continuing, “it’s why the tip jar’s usually full. You gotta work for the people.”

You laughed at his self-righteousness, watching him refill his cup. “You do all that?”

“Yep,” he popped, flashing you a grin.

“What a rebel,” you sighed out loud, mocking his whole spiel.

“Shut up, corporate doesn’t care if you suck their dicks,” he shot back, eyes twinkling.

“Hey give me some credit, I’m a lot more selective with the dicks I suck,” you shot back, laughing at your own joke.

He moved closer to the counter, leaning on his elbows so that he was looking up at you, hands balled up at his cheeks.

“Tell me more about these dicks,” he asked sweetly, grinning at the blush building on your cheeks.

The door rang and you threw up a peace sign, moving over to assist the customer, happy with a distraction. Colson sighed again loudly, before walking around to get at the cash register. You moved along the line, filling the burrito with all the items before rolling it up just right. It was like a secret talent, folding it up perfectly so that none of the contents would fall out. Satisfied with your roll, you put paper over it before passing it off to Colson.

He looked at you for a second, winked and then faced the customer. “Hey dude, it’s on the house. You’re our 100th customer today, enjoy!” he rattled out, smiling as he handed the food over.

You widened your eyes before smiling over at the customer, blurting out, “Happy 100!” making jazz hands. Dropping a $5 into the tip jar, he turned around, leaving with his free food.

As soon as he left, you wacked Colson in the shoulder, grumbling, “What the fuck was that man? 100th customer bullshit?”

“So we were talking about your type?” he continued, without missing a beat.

“Huh?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Your type of guy? Like what you’re into,” he gestured, focused on you.

“Uhm, I don’t know. Why does it matter?” you questioned, turning away from the bore of his eyes, taking off your plastic gloves.

“It doesn’t I guess,” he murmured, letting the air around you fall into silence.

You threw out your gloves, and then turned around just to see him biting his lip over at you.

He took a breath before saying, “You wanna go out with me after this?” eyes meeting yours.

“Like- on a date?” you clarified, playing with your own fingers, nervous for his reaction.

“Yeah,” he nodded out and you tried to hold in your smile.

“Nope, I don’t like you,” you answered, keeping your voice as montone as you could.

He grimaced, shoulders sagging a little. Watching him, you burst out laughing, going over to his side.

“Yeah dummy, I’ll go out with you. No more of that good girl shit though,” you slightly scolded, hand reaching up to pat his cheek.

“Rule breaker huh?” he mumbled, tilting his head just a smidge to lick your palm.

“Colson!” you shouted, pulling your hand back, rubbing it on your apron.

He just grinned over, teeth shiny white on display and you rolled your eyes before saying, “Dude stop looking at me like that!”

Your heart was fluttering just a little and even though you were dreading the closing rush, knowing that Colson was stuck here with you and that there was something to look forward to tonight made you feel so much better.

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyth @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging

#teenage colson baker is a dick but also v sweet #mgk imagine #mgk lyrics #mgk icons #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #colson baker x reader #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker imagine #mgk x reader #m writes 4 mgk #m-writes-4-mgk

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ladyartemisia28 · 4 years

Text

Say Amen (Saturday Night)Chapter 4

Pairings: Prinxiety, side Logicality, Platonic Moxiety, Platonic/Family Logince.

Warnings: Cursing?

Words:4179

Summary: Sanders Sides Human College AU

Chapter 4- Nine in the Afternoon

Author’s Note- Very advised to get a hold of the song Welcome to the Black Parade- by My Chemical Romance.

After they finished gathering their things, Roman led Virgil out to the parking lot.

He slowly shuffled his feet as he caught up to Roman who walked up to open the trunk of a very nice red car. The symbol on the front of the car was a large L.

Virgil raised his eyes up from the ground to look at the vehicle with wide eyes.

“This is your car?” he roughly tossed his bag in the back set

“Yeah, I was hoping for a Lamborghini.” Roman joked with a wink as gently placed his bag in the trunk.

Virgil attempted silence small bitter voice in his head.

“When I was 14 and my cousin, Adora, got her Quiñceanera. She chose me to be her chambelán de honor or chosen escort. I was SOOOOOO JEALOUS!” He dramatically flourished with his hands as he grabbed the trunk lid and closed it shut. “So to bribe me my parents told me that they'd get me a car a year early.”

“Sorry but I have to ask, but I...I'm not sure what it is?” Virgil asked

“Oh uh, sorry” Roman apologized with a smile.

Virgil hummed as a response.

“It's the big birthday that Cis Latina girls get when they turn into 'women'. Silly and patriarchal, I know!” Roman added with a open palms gesture when he saw the eyebrow raise that Virgil gave. “But it was so fun, so fancy and beautiful!”

Roman pushed the key fob to unlock the car and they got themselves settled in.

“It's fucked up that other genders don't get anything like that.”

“Yeah I even stole the catalogue that she picked her dress out of. I cut out my favourites and glued my face on them. Put them all up and down my mirror.” Roman said with a proud smile remembering the happy memories.

Images of Roman in slinky cocktail dresses rushed into Virgil's mind. His face dropped to a small frown as he struggled to stop that particular train of thought.

Roman was unsure if he had said something that upset Virgil to make him clam up again.

"Uh you can pick the music if you'd like?” Roman offered as a break in the sudden silence. “CD's are in the middle.”

He waited for Virgil to buckle himself in before he pulled his car out of the parking lot. Virgil went through all the preset radio stations before opening the middle console.

“CD's? I would have thought that you would have your car set up with Spotify or Pandora or something like that?” he said as he opened opened the console and looked through the collection

“Eh, CD's are great. No commercials for long car trips. ”

All of the Cds were for musicals, a few that he had heard of like Phantom of the Opera, Wicked, and Guys and Dolls. And some that Virgil didn't know, Dear Evan Hanson, Six the Musical, and...Legally Blonde? He did not know that that was a musical.

Then he spotted one that Roman had mentioned.

“Um, any suggestions from Heathers? You said that I might like this the 7/11 song?”

“I usually go through the whole thing in order....but I suggest for you, Track number 4.”

“Could I get some context?” Virgil asked as he pressed the button for the track number.

“The uh, 7/11 scene in the movie...But in song.” Roman offered with a bit of a smug smile.

“I probably should have guessed that.” he admitted with a grumble.

Virgil closed his eyes as he listened to the song and imagined the scene in his head.

Just like in the Heathers movie JD was recounting to Veronica how he travelled all over the place because of his father. And because of that he didn't feel like he was able to connect to the people and places. No place felt like home, except for 7/11.

It was always a weird scene in Virgil's opinion. Like JD is just opening up to this person he just met and telling her his very strong feelings about a convenience store and Slushies.

Even though it was strange Virgil had to admit, it was a good song. Parts of the song were a little to close to home, like “When the voice in your head says you're better off dead”.

“So what do you think? ”

“Yeah I get it. Its good.”

“That's all?” Roman asked exasperatedly

“I guess I was expecting something different???”

“Like what?”

“I just thought that JD was going to be a little more intense. Like crazy sounding or something?”

“Ah what YOU are searching for is 'Meant to Be Yours' number 17.”

He pressed the button until he reached the number and sat back in his seat to listen.

“So is that was you were expecting?” Roman asked as they exited the car after arriving at the store.

“Yeah, it was” Virgil smiled “Real Intense.”

The pair stopped after they reached to threshold to get their bearings.

“I get so lost in here.” Roman complained with a slight whine to his voice. “I don't usually do the grocery shopping.

Before Virgil could comment Roman continued.

“Lo likes to go to make sure that the budget is kept tight, but he's been so busy with his job. He just got his a new taker for his math tutoring.”

“So Logan's your brother?” Virgil

“My brother, well Step brother. My Mama married his Papa. When I was old enough to remember that I was getting a new family, but young enough that it's no longer weird.” Roman offered a little bit more information than necessary.

Roman briefly considered mentioning that he was at the party and Virgil had briefly seen him, but he didn't want to bring up the previous night.

At lest he didn't want to bring it up first.

They were getting along so well that he didn't want to make Virgil uncomfortable.

“Really, I grew up with him so he is my brother. Soooooo do you have any siblings?” Roman began to play with the sleeves of his jacket as he attempted a more personal question.

“Uh yeah, a older sister” he muttered.

“And her name is...?”

“Melantha,” he responded with little inflection “she prefers to be called Missy.”

“Melantha?! WOW, huh! Did your parents just grab a baby name book and open a page at random for ALL their kids!” Roman teased with a mocking laugh as they arrived at the Dairy and Juice section.

“Yeah haha, Virgil's got a weird name. I've NEVER heard that before.” Virgil rolled his eyes as his tone changed from frosty to salty. “You know Roman isn't really the most common name either.”

“I am far from COMMON! Besides I wasn't saying your name was BAD! It is 'strange and usual like you'.” Roman winked as he tried to steer their conversation back to more friendly waters.

“Quoting Beetljuice at me? You'll have to do better than that.” Virgil grinned in spite of himself as he grabbed a six pack of orange drink and placed it in the cart.

“Come on you gotta give a guy some credit for remembering what your interests are right?”

“Yeah I guess” he said with a reluctantly happier tone.

“Hey do you see the Almond Milk?” Roman asked after he finished his scan bottles and cartons.

“Uh no, I think that might be over in the Organic or like Vegan section. Why does your brother have you on a specialized diet as well as his, what was it? His extremist water agenda? What does that even mean?” Virgil chuckled as he took the cart from Roman and led him toward the other end of the store.

“It's just what I call his super weird thing about getting enough water everyday. And yeah he does keep our kitchen stocked with a lot of green veggies. Also he checks to sure I kept up a sleep schedule”

Virgil's eyebrows rose in surprise at hearing all things.

“Yikes, he sounds like a bit of a control freak...”

“Yeah he is sometimes. Like I have hide my Butterfinger stash from him.” Roman complained. “He's not as bad I make him sound...NEVER tell him I told you that.”

Roman went over to the shelf and looked over the choices, Soy, Almond, Lactose- Free lined the shelves.

“Oh and to answer why the special milk, I'm THINKING of starting the Paleo diet right now. My brother has no influence on this though, just want to try and see what works. I might try Keto if this one doesn't work for me.

“ah right.” Virgil nodded eyes slightly widened hoping that the look on his face didn't betrayal the fact that he did NOT know what the heck a Paleo or a Keto diet meant.

Virgil felt heard a chime from his pocket so he pulled out his phone.

“Hey I'm going to get this.” he shook his phone up to show Roman before he stepped away from the cold of the meat section.

Roman nodded in return as he turned to look at the selection of skinless chicken.

Virgil got a message from Green_Tea_Gay on his Instagram account, Anxious_On_Main.

'Hey so that “Study Partner” is a hot piece!'

'Remy do you have a point' Virgil replied

'Gurl do you know? have you seen his pics? HOW is he Single!!'

After the three little dots disappeared in their place were several pictures

His face reddened as he looked at the pictures of the previously mentioned selfies. Roman wearing tight jeans in front of a mirror with his backside captured on the camera. Another with him laying on his stomach caught at an angle getting his short clad behind in shot.

He quickly glanced over to Roman, who was still distracted.

He looked back at him phone and quickly texted back.

'Don't send me those!'

'They are posted to the public! I didn't hack his phone'

'I don't care, no more pics of his butt'

'K'

Just about the time he was going to put his phone back into his pocket another chime stopped him.

The next series of pictures were of Roman exercising posing with a dumbbell doing a curl, stretching, and other gym activities,

And the last was Roman in swimwear that exposed more skin than he thought was allowed outside of certain websites.

His body felt instant heat and he looked and took a few calming breaths before returning to message Remy.

'I said no more pics!'

'Sis you told me no pics of his ass'

'DO NOT SEND PICTURES OF ROMAN SANDERSON!'

'Easy there Baby! No need to get your knickers in a twist. I'm just trying to help. Look at what you will be missing if you don't Snatch. That. Up!'

'What the hell Rem! We are NOT getting together! He is not into me.'

'Nah sweetie, you should have been paying more attention. That is totally a smitten kitten'

'You are the worst'

'No I am literally the best and you two are soooo getting together. Don't worry I know I made my point.'

'You asshole'

'Enjoy the pictures ;)'

Roman noticed that after he returned from his handling of his phone business Virgil had gotten quiet again and seemed to shift his gaze away from Roman.

'Did I spent too much time with the chicken?'

They walked down to the breakfast aisle.

As Virgil picked up some a box of Count Chocula cereal Roman slowed the cart to a stop behind him.

“You can only get this one around this time of year” he looked at it with a fondness that made Roman's stomach flip.

“So what are you planning on making?” Roman asked as he leaned his arms on the handle bar of the cart.

“Making? Uh, nothing, just like a bowl of cereal.... like with milk...from a cow” Virgil tilted his head to one side.

Confusion on his face as he held up the box and gave it a shake.

Roman could feel heat creep over his face, he was very caught off guard by the unexpected softness on Virgil's face.

'Shit!...now he thinks I'm an idiot who doesn't know how to eat cereal!'

Virgil turned around and did not see Roman's flushed face as he hide his own.

Basic cereal... I guess I could be making something with it like a cereal bar or something? A cake? Maybe? It isnt very impressive...and it's probably not on the platleo diet or whatever it was...

They stood in awkward silence until Virgil turned back around.

“I guess that cereal isn't something that YOU would be eating.” he looked at the cart. “From what I see here, you eat like you are going to be in the next Avengers movie or something.”

“Thanks, I mean I try.” Roman said with his eyes downwards as his body did an uncharacteristic shy sway.

“Yeah, I gues if you workout half as much as you take all those pictures, you could get away with more than the occasional Butterfinger.” Virgil's eyes widened as he realized what he had said.

'.. shut up! shut up! shut up!'

Roman's head snapped up to look at Virgil.

“You've seen my gyms pictures?” Roman asked in a whisper.

“Ah Yeah that's like all over your Instagram page,” he attempted to sound super casual

He did not sound casual.

Like at all

They felt a charged moment between them and the longer it went on the longer they were unsure of who was going to break the silence.

Roman took it upon himself to interrupt the quiet as he tool the box of chocolate cereal in hand.

“I like the marshmallow bats.” he said with sheepish smile.

When they returned to the car they loaded Roman's groceries into the trunk and Virgil's bags into the back seat. Then they got themselves settled in their seats.

“SO where am I uh dropping you off?” Roman asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“I live in the dorms," Virgil asked as he started his usual habit of checking all the radio stations. “You don't?”

He found a song that he seemed to like on one of stations, Roman recognized it as a song by Imagine Dragons.

“I live in a apartment a little bit away from the college, with Logan.”

“Um, I live in the north dorms.” Virgil said as he a small bit of nervousness as took his thumbnail between his teeth. “With Patton, my best friend.”

After that song ended, a G piano note began the next song. Roman vaguely recognized it from somewhere he couldn't place. He figured when it got to the singing part he would be able to identify it.

Virgil tensed out of both excitement and fear.

He was about to embarrassed himself in front of Roman. At lest Roman was driving so he wouldn't be stared at. So he took a breath and let himself focus on the lyrics.

“When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city” Virgil sang out beautifully. “To see a marching band”

Roman's jaw dropped and his breath stilled. He felt like he was going to swoon.

He was so very grateful that they were at a red stoplight.

“He said, son, when you grow up Would you be the saviour of the broken The beaten, and the damned? He said, will you defeat them Your demons and all the non-believers?”

Virgil sang with closed eyes losing himself in the song. While Roman's heart thumped hard in his chest and he felt an assortment of warring emotions.

“The plans that they have made? Because one day I'll leave you A phantom to lead you in the summer To join the black parade”

As the song picked up in tempo Roman realized where he had heard this song before. He remembered that he had a few friends who were into My Chemical Romance, it was 'Welcome to the Black Parade'.

“When I was a young boy My father took me into the city To see a marching band He said, son, when you grow up Will you be the savior of the broken The beaten, and the damned?”

Virgil continued a little more intensely. As the song got more upbeat Roman joined Virgil in singing and continued his drive toward the dorm.

“Sometimes I get the feeling She's watching over me And other times I feel like I should go”

Virgil eyes popped wide open and he smiled.

“And through it all The rise and fall The bodies in the streets And when you're gone, we want you all to know

We'll carry on, we'll carry on And though you're dead and gone, believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on And in my heart I can't contain it The anthem won't explain it”

As Roman turned a corner they continued to sing together

“A world that sends you reeling From decimated dreams Your misery and hate will kill us all So paint it black And take it back Let's shout it loud and clear Defiant to the end We hear the call”

Roman followed the music with dramatic hand gestures as he continued driving with his left hand. Even Virgil joined in with less dramatic the hand motions.

“To carry on We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone, believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches”

Virgil sang with a full grinning face, his relief at Roman joining him in singing the song had caused him to relax and he was able to sing louder with more feeling.

“On and on, we carry through the fears (Oh, oh, oh) Disappointed faces of your peers (Oh, oh, oh)”

Take a look at me 'Cause I could not care at all”

Roman held onto the note at the end for a bit. Virgil continued on with the lyrics

Do or die, you'll never make me Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part I won't explain or say I'm sorry I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar Give a cheer for all the broken Listen here, because it's who we are I'm just a man, I'm not a hero Just a boy, who had to sing this song I'm just a man, I'm not a hero I don't care

They arrived at the dorms parking lot and Roman parked.

We'll carry on We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone believe me Your memory will carry on You'll carry on

And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches on

Roman contuined his singing the longer held notes as they song concluded.

Do or die, you'll never make me Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on) Do or die, you'll never make me (We'll carry on) Because the world will never take my heart (We'll carry on) Go and try, you'll never break me (We'll carry) We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on)

“We'll carry on!”

They both sang as the song ended to the sounds of drums.

At the conclusion of the song both Virgil and Roman were out of breath and grinning.

Roman felt his heart race.

He had thought that he had experienced maximum attraction that morning toward Virgil. But he was very wrong.

'Damnit Virgil why does your voice have to sound like sexy melted chocolate!'

He fought every instinct to just lean over and initiate a vehicular makeout session.

Roman caught a brief glimpse of Virgil's eyes peak out from underneath his bangs and he gave him a very full smile.

Virgil nervously took a glance at Roman from underneath his dark hair.

Roman had the brightest and most authentic smile that Virgil thought he ever saw on his face.

It wasn't like Virgil thought that Roman faked his other smiles, the feelings of joy and friendliness were not false. But it seemed a lot of the other smiles that Roman gave seemed too perfect, Virgil guessed he practised his expressions in front of a mirror.

This smile was of shear amazement, it was pointed in Virgil's direction. Like he could not believe what he heard, it caused Virgil to feel an annoying sensation in his chest.

“I didn't know you could sing” Roman spoke softly breaking the silence.

“Uh sure I guess I can sing a tune here or there.” Virgil shrugged with a dismissive sigh.

“I think its more than that!” Roman attempted to offer him a very sincere compliment.

“Yeah I'm not about to sell out stadiums anytime.” Virgil chuckled at the thought.

'I wish you were in a band. I'd buy all your albums. Be front row in your concerts, I'd....shit I can't tell him any of this!'

“So My Chemical Romance huh?” Roman said with a wide smirk.

“What about it?!”

“They are like the most cliché Emo band ever.” Roman snickered.

“Ah cliche? Really YOU want to go there do you?!” Virgil said

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Roman asked with a raised eyebrow.

“For a theatre kid you would think you'd dress a bit more stylish or something?” Virgil attempted to say with an indifferent air.

“What like take the costume from Hot Mikado out around the quad?”

“Absolute no clue what that is.” Virgil laughed as he exited the vehicle.

“It's....never mind that. I have only dressed subtly to spare those around me. ” Roman responded as he walked to back of the car. “How would anyone be able to concentrate on their schooling if I were to show up in full regalia?!”

“Full Regalia, huh, you sure think highly of yourself don't you? I'm not sure you should be bragging quite so much.”

“Is that a formal challenge?” Roman felt his racing heart in his chest in the midst of their back and forth.

“Not sure how impressive you'll actually be, but I'll keep an open mind, I guess.” Virgil shrugged with a small smirk as he began to take out the bags.

'I'll show him'

Roman noticed a few heavier bags that he could chivalrously offer to help him with.

“I can help you carry some of your groceries to your dorm?”

“Ah you just want an excuse to come to my room.” Virgil teased in a deep low voice as he waited for Roman to banter back.

“YES YOU BET I DO!!!!....play it cool, Roman play it cool!'

“N...no...! I uh... as a gentleman I ... have to help anyone I see that is in need...” Roman sputtered out before he took ahold of small package of bagels “You ...you have... you have to carry..lots there.”

Virgil read his flustering as a rejection of his flirtation.

“No thanks! I got it! ” he quickly and loudly shouted in a panic as he took the bag out of Roman's hands.

Virgil thought that he and Roman had just shared a moment together.

'You just were imaging it! You shouldn't have believed Remy, you complete moron! ' He sling his messenger bag over his shoulder.

Then he draped the loops of the several other bags onto each elbow crook. And then took another bag into his left hand.

As he struggled to stuff the bagel bag into an already full bag, Roman again attempted to offer help.

“It's not a problem!” Roman gestured to the bagels.

“NO! I got it” Virgil just wanted to disappear as quickly as he could. He then placed the plastic of the bag in between his teeth.

“Cee Ou ENESAH.” Virgil shouted through clenched teeth as he retreated.

“Uh yeah.” Roman spoke to an empty damp parking lot. “see you”

Author's Note

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE SO SORRY for the long wait!

The long pause was due to new job and lack of constant access to a working computer.

I think I will still have a job later after the situation clears, but I am unsure....

ANYWAYS!

What do people think of me backtracking and converting all of the mentions of DEE to JAE? It won't be too much trouble as he has not even appeared yet.

Taglist: (PS YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!)

@tatesinclairr

@love-is-the-fear-of-loss

@misslilidelaney

@ishoulddyemyhairthatcolour

@dwbh888

@violetshovel

@sadgayisme

#Prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #virgil sanders #say amen fanfic

28 notes · View notes

faulty-writes · 4 years

Text

Warning: Quirkless Characters, Mentions Of Character From Manga, Attempted Blowjob, Attempted Sexual Acts, 18+.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Student!Hizashi Yamada x Student!Shouta Aizawa

[ Alright, this is another prompt from @bnhabookclub. I decided to do some EraserMic since it’s one of my favorite ships. My blog is mostly reader inserts, but I love my gay ships as well. So for those that love EraserMic like yours truly. I hope you enjoy. ]

[ Shouta Aizawa, is a student from U.A. High. A high stake education establishment that prepares young students for their future careers. Unfortunately, Shouta is at a loss of what career he might want, which lands him in hot water. However, when he gets a part-time job as a florist at the local flower shop, things start to change. Hizashi Yamada, also a student from U.A. High and Shouta’s closest friend, happens to be doing a work-study at the local radio station. But when he finds out about Shouta’s new job, he begins to visit the flower shop. Much to Shouta’s annoyance, but is it really flowers he enjoys or being around Shouta? ]

[ Banner Made By Yours Truly. ]

“This is stupid,” Shouta said as he looked down at the green apron he was forced to wear in the flower shop. He was standing in the back, surrounded by various flowers and the sound of running water. He was 17 years old and this is what he was reduced to, all because his teachers were constantly pushing him to finally get a job. To advance in some career, that was the basis of what U.A. stood for. Almost like a college prep course, but exclusively dedicated to the study of the workforce.

You could even get a certain certificate or even license if you dedicated enough time to your work-study. Shouta however, never gave it much thought. In fact, it seemed like he was at a loss of what to do. Unlike his friend Hizashi who seemed to excel in the matter of careers, though the overly enthusiastic boy decided to do his work-study at the local radio station. Shouta had heard him on the radio a few times and it seemed like he was a natural, so good for him.

Meanwhile, Shouta was stuck here. “Aizawa!” he cringed at the sound of his name and turned to look at the owner of the flower shop. She was some elderly woman who probably didn’t have much else left in her life to do, but she had given him the job. But that’s as much respect as Shouta would give her, especially with the way she was glaring at him. “What are you doing!?” she demanded before her hand shot out and she smacked the back of Shouta’s head, he immediately glared at her.

“Pff, such messy hair as well,” she said as she picked up a lock of it, Shouta didn’t give much thought into his hair. Nor did he care what he looked like, still his hair was growing past his ears, and maybe to the older generation it looked sloppy. But once again, he didn’t care and stepped away from the woman. “My hair isn't a priority here. Is there something you came to bother me with?” he questioned in a flat tone, his eyes narrowed at her and he almost took pride in how offended she looked.

“You kids...no respect to your elders.” Shouta blinked, was he supposed to respect her? For what? Living this long? In order to receive respect you needed to earn it. That was his opinion, maybe it was wrong. But he would never change his mind about it. “Water the flowers, sweep, do something, and stop daydreaming! I can fire you at any moment,” she said before she walked away, leaving Shouta by himself once more.

The boy sighed before walking over to the large cabinet in the corner of the room, though it served no real purpose to him. It was merely used to store seeds and information about the plants the flower shop had. He shook his head before reaching over, a small radio sat on top of the cabinet and Shouta didn’t hesitate to turn it on. Something had to drown out the silence, even though Shouta tended to enjoy silence. Still, he might as well feel like he had some form of company, as soon as he turned it on.

He heard the sound of his friend’s voice, “Heeeeeeeey! All you peeps out there! Dig this! My name’s Hizashi!!! And I welcome you to your local radio station!” Shouta chuckled softly, which would surprise most. But, contrary to popular belief he could be happy. Normally it didn’t last long, but still. He turned and walked over to the hose, might as well try to make the best of this work-study. The next day at school, Shouta slumped over his desk.

“Heeeeeey Shouta!” Hizashi called as he walked into the classroom causing Shouta to cringe in his seat. “Keep it down,” he said as he lifted his head to look at the overly enthusiastic blond who plopped down in the seat next to him. “Aw, come on Shouta! Lighten up!” he replied causing his gloomy friend to roll his eyes. “Ya know, I heard that ya got yaself a work-study!” he exclaimed before leaning over to playfully smack his fist against Shouta’s chest. “Now you’re one of us! Congrats!” he said in a cheery tone and it made Shouta groan in response, sometimes Hizashi was annoying.

But a wonderful friend nonetheless, Shouta just wished that he’d tone it down sometimes. Though he always felt some sort of warmth in his stomach whenever Hizashi was around, maybe it was happiness. He wasn’t sure. “Shut up.” Shouta hissed, “It’s at a flower shop, nothing special.” he said before successfully pushing Hizashi off of him. The blond only smirked and snapped his fingers, “Hey now! It’s something! Ya should be proud of yaself!” Shouta shrugged, he wasn’t proud of himself.

He honestly didn’t know how he felt, it wasn’t an accomplishment in his eyes and his new boss wasn't exactly the nicest. “Hey, if you’re ever bored being surrounded by all those flowers. Maybe ya should turn up the radio! I’m going to be doing a graveyard shift over the weekend, they’re finally giving me a chance to show the world what I got!” Hizashi said, nearly jumping up from his seat and Shouta turned to look at him. Graveyard shift huh? “Congrats,” he replied flatly before looking ahead of him, the teacher just walked in.

Shouta groaned and placed his elbow on the desk before leaning the side of his face into the palm of his hand. He could never imagine being a teacher, what a drag. The next day at the flower shop, Shouta had decided to sweep the shop after he had finished organizing and watering the plants. It was a slow day and his boss had already gone home, so she gave Shouta temporary trust in closing the shop.

He thought he could have peace for the remainder of the day, however that changed when he heard the bell ring indicating that someone had walked into the shop. A sigh left his lips and he carelessly threw the broom to the floor before walking to the front desk, “Hello, welcome to-” he paused when he realized who it was. “Heeeeey Shouta!” Hizashi greeted before reaching up to adjust his sunglasses, they were more like a signature accessory to his person.

“Whoa, what’s with the getup? I’ve never seen ya in an apron,” he noted as he pointed a finger toward Shouta, though in a way he looked cute. Then again, despite Shouta’s rather gloomy outlook on life. He always seemed to come off as adorable, at least to Hizashi. “Is there something you want?” Shouta said as he crossed his arms, his normal scowl appearing but it didn’t phase Hizashi who shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I just wanted to come to see ya! Don’t tell me you’re here alone?” Shouta blinked and cocked his head to the side, why was Hizashi concerned about that?

“The old hag said I could close shop, I didn’t expect anyone else to come in.” he said as he watched Hizashi approach a vase of flowers, “Oh yeah? Ya really call your boss an old hag?” he questioned before sniffing the flowers, “Hm.” he leaned back and rotated the vase, noticing how much detail was taken in the arrangement of the flowers and the small bow that was tied around it. “Did ya do this?” he questioned before glancing at Shouta who kept quiet, “I can tell it was you because ya always put the most effort into little things. Look at the bow, there are no wrinkles in the ribbon and it’s tied just tightly enough. The flowers are specifically arranged, there’s an even amount of each type of flower and exactly five of these little white things are in the center which makes the rest of the flowers pop. Good job, Shouta!” he said as he gave his friend the thumbs up.

Shouta groaned and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You observe me that much?” he questioned, it was kind of scary if that was the case. Hizashi however, looked as though he were pouting and approached the desk that Shouta was standing behind. He placed his hands on top of it and leaned over, “Well, I like to observe the things I find fascinating.” he said with a playful wink and watched Shouta’s expression drop. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were turning the faintest red color, honestly, it made Hizashi feel accomplished when he could get Shouta to react like that.

He chuckled and a smile came to his face, “S-Shut up. If you’re not going to buy any flowers. Get out! Don’t you have a work-study you need to be at?” he questioned and Hizashi laughed before leaning back, “I’m going to be doing that graveyard shift I told ya about! You’re going to listen right?” Shouta frowned and his shoulders slumped, truthfully he didn’t feel like staying up and listening to the radio. But, what Hizashi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

So Shouta tilted his head back and reached up to run his hand through his hair. “Sure...fine. Just stop bothering me,” he said, attempting to shoo the other away. Yet, Hizashi just smiled and jumped over the counter. Catching Shouta off guard, he let out a cry when his friend’s arms wrapped around him and forced him into a hug. “Hizashi…” he growled, his face twisting with anger. “Just a couple more seconds…” the blond replied which made Shouta groan, gees.

He always hated getting hugs and Hizashi’s were often unwanted and too tight, yet he made no move to escape. He sighed in relief when the hug ended and dusted himself off. “Happy…” he said before glaring at Hizashi who seemed to be smiling again. “I’m always happy when I’m with ya Shouta!” he laughed before turning to leave, though he hoped Shouta would actually go through and listen to his graveyard shift broadcast, after all, he had something special planned.

He waved Shouta goodbye before leaving, though as usual, the black-haired boy seemed unphased and resumed working. When he closed down the shop and returned home, he debated about actually listening to the radio. But instead, he drifted to sleep with nothing but the sound of silence. With no school the next day, Shouta proceeded to the flower shop. He was beginning to feel relaxed surrounded by plants and the heavenly scent they provided.

It was nice and he couldn’t say that about many things. Once more it seemed the owner of the shop had given him trust and was eager to see how Shouta would run the place by himself. He didn’t find it very difficult, though talking to people on the phone was rather annoying. He didn’t understand the need for floral arrangements, but the orders kept coming which meant he had his hands full with deadlines.

A few customers came in, though most of them Shouta assumed where either lonely women or men who thought a bunch of roses could help mend whatever relationship they messed up. However, much like before. Hizashi walked through the door. It was mid-afternoon and Shouta was slumped over the front desk. A small vase sat in front of him and Shouta was busy trying to make it into a flower arrangement. The sight made Hizashi smile, Shouta always looked cute when he was concentrating on something.

He noticed it when the other was invested in his schoolwork as well, it sometimes distracted him. But seeing as school wasn’t in session, he walked up to the front counter, much like he had done the previous night. “Hi Shouta!” he greeted, watching as the other looked at him with those tired yet soft eyes. “Here to annoy me again?” he questioned, but he was answered with the sound of Hizashi’s laugh. “Maybe I just want to give ya some company! But...uh, also…” he paused and scratched the side of his head.

“If you’re not too busy, think ya could wrap me up a bouquet of flowers? Nothing specific, maybe use the flowers ya think are nice,” he suggested, acting a bit nervous as he pressed his fingertips together and glanced away. His cheeks were dusted a soft red color, which Shouta took notice of. He narrowed his eyes, “Why do you want a bouquet of flowers?” he questioned, trying to ignore the strange feeling that was causing his stomach to twist.

Hizashi laughed again, “Come on! Ya know the answer already! I mean ya listened to my broadcast right?” Shouta’s eyes widened before he glanced to the side, oh right. He implied he would listen to that, well he didn’t and there was no going back now. “But!” Hizashi held a finger in front of Shouta’s face. “If ya must know, they’re for someone special.” Shouta frowned, yes most would be happy knowing their closest friend found someone that made them happy.

So why was Shouta feeling this way? It was strange, almost like a burning feeling. Was he jealous? Perhaps, he wondered for a moment if Hizashi was talking about a girl in class or maybe even Shirakumo. He was part of their trio and much like Hizashi, he had an enthusiastic and happy outlook on life. Unlike Shouta, who was more like the raincloud of the group. “Mm...I see.” he replied before crossing his arms, “When do you need the bouquet?” he asked, though his glance continued to avert Hizashi who tapped his chin.

“Well, how fast could ya make it? I was planning to give it to them tomorrow,” he replied and that jealousy burnt brighter. “Oh...tomorrow,” Shouta said, tapping his finger against his arm. Almost as if he were getting impatient about something. “Yeah, sorry man. Is that too early or-” Shouta shook his head and dropped his arms before finally looking at Hizashi. “No, I’ll get that ready for you right now. I’m sure you don’t have anything better to do,” he said, his voice dripping with that jealousy and he made no effort to hide it.

Maybe he would be better at hiding his emotions when he got older, but as for now, he was still considered a teenager. “Uh…” Hizashi scratched his head once again, a little confused by Shouta’s tone. “Are ya alright man?” he asked and Shouta shrugged in response before walking to the backroom. It only took about ten minutes to arrange a simple bouquet, he used roses and tulips for a little splash of color before walking back to the front desk.

“Here.” he said as he handed the flowers over to Hizashi who took them, though it was clear he was still confused about Shouta’s behavior. “Uh...thanks,” he said before looking over the flowers, they smelled wonderful and he couldn’t help but think they were special considering Shouta picked them out himself. That thought alone made him smile and he cradled the bouquet close to his chest. “Thanks, Shouta, you’re the best,” he said though his compliment was only greeted with Shouta’s eye roll. Still, it was something.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow then?” he questioned, sheepishly giving the other a smile. Though it didn’t seem like Shouta was very happy at the moment, he did shrug his shoulders in response to Hizashi’s question. “I’ll be here I guess,” he replied, once more causing the blond to chuckle. “Great! I hope ya don’t work yaself too hard.” Shouta kept quiet as he watched Hizashi leave and let out a sigh of frustration. Damn. Who did Hizashi like and why? Wasn’t Hizashi supposed to be his friend?

Shouta wasn’t sure what he’d do without the annoying blond by his side and it was such thoughts that kept him distracted for the rest of the day. What would he do without Hizashi and why did he feel so jealous? Was it because he considered Hizashi his? He was his friend, he was his only friend up until Shirakumo came along, and yet still, he never considered the possibility of losing Hizashi. Could he even prevent himself from losing the blond? He wasn’t sure but damned if he wouldn’t try.

Shouta decided that even if he had to work at the flower shop the next day, he would try to look to impress. He decided to wear the goggles Shirakumo had allowed him to borrow and pulled his hair back into a short ponytail. He chose to wear a black outfit, complete with gloves. Hizashi always seemed to like it when he wore black, though he always teased it was because the color black matched Shouta’s soul.

He wasn’t completely wrong and yet he still enjoyed Shouta’s company and made no move to try and belittle him because of his outlook on life. In fact, he seemed to give Shouta affection in return and he never wanted that affection to belong to someone else. Which is why he hoped to impress Hizashi, despite the fact that he had to focus on his work. He managed to finish a few more flower arrangements, however, he continued to look at the front door.

Just waiting for Hizashi to walk in, of course it was always a disappointment when he heard the bell and rushed out only to see an unfamiliar face. He groaned, what the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t sure why he was so paranoid about Hizashi all of a sudden, he continued to think about this mysterious person Hizashi had gotten flowers for and he found himself hoping he wasn’t too late. Though he was hesitant, he wasn’t one to jump into action and it typically took a lot for him to finally do something.

Though it seemed his life only worked at extreme ends. Regardless, he began to worry when nightfall came and Hizashi had yet to appear. For a minute, he wondered if he had done something wrong. Hizashi knew how he was though, was it still possible that he insulted the other because of his words or actions? Part of him wanted to try and contact the blond, but it would be useless. If he didn’t show up like he said he would, then that must mean something was wrong.

Maybe this was Hizashi’s way of indicating he needed space and honestly, it bothered Shouta. He couldn’t even get a proper amount of sleep, as he found himself tossing and turning. The following school day, Hizashi was absent which didn’t sit right with Shouta. Yet, there were rumors floating around about what had taken place during Hizashi’s broadcast, the one that Shouta had missed. Apparently Hizashi had spoken about a special someone and even dedicated a song to them, he claimed that his special someone was listening because he had made a special request in person for them to tone in.

Shouta couldn’t help but find that strange, Hizashi had asked if he’d listen to his broadcast as well and it seemed like everyone in the class had. Was that why Hizashi hadn’t shown up to the flower shop, was that why he wasn’t in class? Was this ‘special someone’ taking up his time just as Shouta had feared? He tightened his fists as he sat at his desk, his whole body began to tremble which gained the look of some of his classmates.

“Uh...Aizawa, are you okay?” Shirakumo asked he hadn’t seen Shouta tremble like this since the time he walked into class dripping wet from the rain. Shouta growled softly and turned to look at his friend, “I’m fine…” he hissed though Shirakumo didn’t completely buy it. Yeah, Shouta was normally in a bad mood. But not this bad. “You upset that Yamada isn’t here?” he questioned and Shouta’s eyes lit up. “Do you know why he isn’t here today?” he asked as he leaned over the side of his desk and Shirakumo shrugged.

“Wish I could help you man, all I know is that Yamada said he needed to do some thinking. Something about how to face someone again.” Shouta’s eyes widened, face someone again? What the hell did that mean? He couldn’t help but feel some hope in his heart, that perhaps Hizashi meant him. But at the same time, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Regardless, he couldn’t help but feel like he needed to get to the bottom of this. Yet, at the same time.

This seemed like a delicate situation and Shouta almost felt as though he needed to wait until Hizashi came to him. The only problem was how long Shouta could wait before he took matters into his own hands. Shirakumo had offered to come along with him to the flower shop, but Shouta declined the offer. It wasn’t because he didn’t appreciate it, but more so because he would rather sort out his own emotions than drag someone along.

Still, as much as he tried to distract himself. The thought of Hizashi continued to plague his mind and it caused him to drop a container of nursery plants. It was somewhat of a hassle to clean the dirt up and transfer the growing plants into a new container. It cut into the time he was supposed to be watering the plants and threw off his whole schedule. He hurried to make up for the lost time and by the end of the day, he was sweating. His hair looked unruly and he was covered in dirt.

No surprise there as he had forgotten to put his apron on when he began his shift. “Looks like you’ve improved.” the owner of the shop said as she approached Shouta, taking note of his appearance. “There might be hope for your future career, yet.” Shouta wanted to roll his eyes, this is not the future career he wanted. But he supposed he had no choice but to take it for now. “Here…” she said as she handed him the keys. “Just like before, close up shop when you’re done.” Shouta frowned, but slipped the keys into his pocket.

“Yeah.” he replied before watching her walk through the door. Business as always seemed to slow down as evening approached and Shouta spent the last remaining hour slumped over the front desk. Replaying the previous day when Hizashi came in, he had replayed the moment over and over again in his head. Trying to analyze every little thing and make sense out of it, was he the reason that Hizashi decided to distance himself? He frowned, hoping that wasn’t the case but what other explanation was there?

Maybe this is what he deserved for his childish behavior and jealousy. He still hadn’t come to fully believe that he could get jealous over Hizashi, but the thought of anyone changing his relationship with the other. Taking his time and attention away, it made him upset. He knew he had no right to feel this way, especially considering the fact that he couldn’t even keep his word and do as Hizashi asked. He sighed, reaching up to ruffle his hair before laying his head onto the desk and listened to the sound of silence.

The dirt on his skin was dried out and the sweat caused his hair to clump together. More than likely he could use a shower, but that was the very last thing on his mind. A shadow began to cast itself over the shop and Shouta knew the cause was more than likely because the sun was finally setting. But he didn’t feel like moving, he just wanted to continue to hide his face. Well, actually he wanted to scream. His head was aching, more than likely from all the overthinking he had done.

He failed to notice that someone had walked through the door, though the bell had sounded. Shouta seemed to have blocked it out, it wasn’t until he felt a hand press to the top of his head that he jolted up. His heart was racing as he looked wide-eyed at the very one he had spent the whole day thinking about. He narrowed his eyes, “Hizashi?” he questioned, almost in disbelief. Though Hizashi looked a tad different, Shouta hardly recognized him in those clothes.

They were dark and appeared to be made out of leather, apart from the shirt Hizashi had underneath his jacket that was adorned with studs. He was wearing orange headphones that dangled around his neck and matched his glasses. His hair was slicked back and it appeared almost as if he were dressed for a date. That thought alone made Shouta frown, but he was also curious.

“Why are you dressed like that and why weren’t you in school today? Why didn’t you show up here yesterday and then you come in today dressed like that?” he rambled off the series of questions and his hands curled into tight fists. He wanted to demand if Hizashi had just ended a date with this ‘special someone’, the one he had spoken about and dedicated a song to, or at least that’s what he heard in class. Hizashi blinked, “Uh…” which question did he have to answer first?

He had one arm pressed behind his back and the other was busy scratching his head, a common action he performed when he was more or less clueless about something. “Well uh...I thought it would impress ya,” he replied before trying to remember the other questions Shouta had asked. “I...wasn’t feeling well or uh...well I had to do a lot of thinking, sorry. I couldn’t face ya because well, I was thinking about what happened and my special someone...I knew there was a chance ya wouldn’t like it.” he replied and Shouta growled.

“Who the hell is this special someone? Are they the reason why you weren’t in class?” he demanded before stomping around the desk and approaching Hizashi who took a step back as he noticed the fiery expression Shouta was wearing. “Hey now, what do ya mean by that? Ya didn’t listen to my-” he let out a cry when Shouta grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him close, it was a little scary to see the other act this way.

“What do I mean…” Shouta repeated, almost wanting to laugh before he turned and began to drag Hizashi toward the back of the flower shop. “Shouta! W-Wait a second, what are ya doing!?” he demanded as he stumbled over his feet, but Shouta ignored him. “What does it look like, I know I’m being selfish. I’m just some florist that can’t match up to a guy with a future career in radio but…” he trailed off and turned to face Hizashi, his eyes drifted to that arm that was still hidden behind the blond.

He clenched his jaw and reached over, “Shouta wait-” Hizashi tried to plead again, but it was of little use as Shouta forced his hand from his back. A gasp then sounded from the black-haired boy as he took note that Hizashi was hiding the bouquet of flowers he had arranged for him the other day. He growled and threw them to the floor, “Shouta! What the crap!? What’s the matter with ya!?” the blond demanded, looking distressed as the flowers now laid wilted on the ground.

Along with the note he had written and tucked inside the center. However, it went unnoticed by Shouta who proceeded to press himself against Hizashi. He laid his hands on the man’s chest, curling his fingers into his shirt. “I know, I can’t possibly compete with your special someone,” he began, and Hizashi lowered his eyebrows.

“Shouta...wait...don't ya know that it’s-” once more he was interrupted, “I don’t need to know who it is, all I know is that someone is trying to take you away and as much as I hate to admit it. I can’t let that be.” he explained before leaning close to Hizashi, releasing his hold on the other's shirt in order to cup his delicate face.

He was careful of those glasses, he knew they meant something to the blond. “Y-Ya...what?” Hizashi stuttered out, though the fact that Shouta was so close added to his nervous behavior. “Shh...just let me do this, then...you can go back to your special someone. I’m sure those flowers were for them, I don’t know why you brought them back here. But it doesn’t matter.” he said before quickly capturing Hizashi’s lips. “Mm!” his eyes widened and he reached up, grasping Shouta’s shoulders.

He noticed the dirt that stained the other's clothes, but he knew it was too late to save his own outfit seeing as Shouta was pressed up against him. Though it was nothing compared to those soft lips, Hizashi found himself fighting the urge to kiss back while Shouta intended to overpower him. A moan sounded from Hizashi as he felt Shouta’s tongue brush against his bottom lip, wiggling and thrashing around as it tried to slip into his mouth.

His knees grew weak as he finally gave in, allowing Shouta what he desired. A shiver ran through his body as Shouta’s tongue brushed against his. Such a distinct flavor filled his mouth and his glasses grew foggy before Shouta pulled away. His cheeks were dusted pink and there was a determined glance in his eye. “Shouta…” Hizashi whispered before watching the boy drop to his knees.

“No one will treat you like this, you are mine Hizashi. Maybe not in romance, but you still mine. I won’t let anyone take you, call me selfish.” he reached up and unzipped the fly to Hizashi’s leather pants which outlined the perfect curve of his thighs. “Wait...don’t.” Hizashi’s heart was racing in his chest as he reached out to thread his fingers into Shouta’s hair, attempting to pull the other away. But a growl sounded from Shouta, a clear indication he wasn’t giving up.

“Shouta...I said no.” he warned as he continued to try and keep him at bay, however, Shouta seemed utterly determined and continued to lean forward. Despite Hizashi’s attempts, his arm began to tremble and his grip loosened the moment he felt Shouta’s warm mouth clasp over his bulge which was currently separated by the fabric of his underwear. “S-Shouta...I-I’m d-dirty...s-stop.” he tried to plead once more, though another moan threatened to escape him.

“I s-should at l-least shower-ah!” he cried out when Shouta’s tongue began to lap over his underwear, teasing his hardening member. Hizashi leaned over, though both legs were trembling. He threaded another hand through Shouta’s hair and tried pulling him off once more, but Shouta was in defiance. He reached up and yanked down the fabric separating him from his goal, that is Hizashi half-hard cock.

However, Shouta kept the same monotone expression before his fingers brushed against the warm and throbbing member, was Hizashi getting hard because of him? In a way it made him feel proud, despite the fact the other continued to pull his hair which began to ache and Shouta’s neck was bent back. He placed his hands on Hizashi’s thighs and pushed forward, his tongue sticking out ready to get a taste of that cock.

Though Hizashi spoke, “S-Shouta! Why...are ya doing this because you’re j-jealous of my special someone?!” his words came out in a panic as he tried to keep his thoughts clear, though they were clouded over with pleasure. “So what if I am...I highly doubt anyone is good enough for you,” he said before his tongue licked up the base, he could taste the salt and some sweat that Hizashi no doubt built up while wearing those leather pants.

Hizashi whimpered and slumped against the wall, soft pants escaping him. “W-Wait...ya mean...ya didn’t listen to my b-broadcast?” he questioned before tilting his head back, his fingers loosening their grip on Shouta’s hair as he continued to get assaulted by that rather talented tongue. Shouta wrapped his lips around the tip, teasingly slithering his tongue around before flicking over the small opening. His eyes shifted to Hizashi who looked rather satisfied, he found himself enjoying the look of the blond’s lust-filled face.

Still, he pulled back. “I didn’t need to hear it, everyone talked about it. Shirakumo said you were absent because you wanted time to figure out how to face your special someone.” his glance turned to the side and his jealousy was showing. Which confused Hizashi, he took a deep breath and tilted his head. Finally getting a break though his cock twitched, eager for more of Shouta’s advances but that didn’t matter right now.

There was another problem he needed to solve, something he needed to make clear to Shouta. “Yeah...I needed time to figure out how to face ya, Shouta.” his eyes widened and he shot his head back, “W-What?” he questioned and felt Hizashi release his grip on his hair. Though Hizashi brought one hand up to press against his forehead, letting out a sigh. An action that was uncharacteristic to the blond.

“Ya really didn’t listen to my broadcast did ya? Even after I asked ya to.” Shouta looked to the floor, almost feeling guilty. “I...fell asleep.” he replied quietly, “Whaaaaaaaaaat?!” Hizashi exclaimed, shaking his head in clear disappointment before he crossed his arms. “I can’t believe ya didn’t listen! Shouta, I don’t ask for a loooooot!” he cried out and Shouta’s eyebrow twitched, he was clearly annoyed with the way Hizashi was whining. “Well…” Hizashi shrugged.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now, even though my boss was impressed with my daring declaration of love. Shouta...I was talking about you, I said I had a special someone that I liked very much. He’s my best friend and even though he’s a little gloomy sometimes, he has a good heart. He’s patient and understanding and when he puts his mind to do, he can accomplish anything. Which is whhhhhhhhhhy I said ya should become a teacher, but instead ya decided to work in this dirt-filled flower shop.” he said, scolding Shouta who narrowed his eyes at him.

“I don’t like kids that much, there wouldn’t be a point to-” Hizashi huffed and grabbed Shouta by his shoulders, forcing the man back to his feet. “On another note!” he began, shifting the subject back to the main point. “Those flowers,” he pointed to the bouquet that was still laying on the floor, “were for you!” he poked Shouta’s chest. “I was planning on coming back the next day to get them and give them back to ya as a gift, but instead ya ruined my plans and gave them to me early. What gives!?” he demanded as he fisted both hands into the front of Shouta’s shirt and shook him.

Though Shouta looked surprised, he reached up to clasp his hands over Hizashi’s. “That makes no sense. If you wanted to get flowers for me, you should have gone to another flower shop. There’s no sense in asking me to make a bouquet and then present that same one to me, though I don’t like surprises.” Hizashi’s grip loosened, okay maybe there were some flaws in his plan, but isn’t it the thought that counts?! There was no pleasing Shouta.

“Hey, I tried. Give me some credit, at least I do what ya ask,” he said, clearly still upset that Shouta hadn’t listened to him on the radio. “How long are you going to go off about that? It’s already old.” Hizashi growled and shook him once more, “As long as I want, ya dig!?” he exclaimed, his voice echoing throughout the room.

“I don’t understand ya sometimes Shouta, the whole point of my broadcast and the flowers and my visit. The fact I was absent in school and didn’t come the other day. I was stuck, I was stuck on how to face ya and tell ya that I...well daaaaaaamn. Shouta I like ya! More than a friend, you are my special someone and weather what ya just did to my…” he paused and looked down at his still hard member that stuck straight up and brushed the jagged edges of his open zipper.

“Little Hizashi,” he said, “is out of jealousy or whatever. Shouta, ya are the only one who has my heart. I said I know ya’d probably reject my feelings, which is okay. But please tell me we can still be friends. You, me, and Shirakumo!” he exclaimed, and once more Shouta looked surprised, though if anything he was ashamed of his actions. He let his jealousy get the best of him and he used it along with his anger to assault Hizashi. He was lucky the blond didn’t react in a bad way, still.

He couldn’t make it up to Hizashi, could he? Part of him was happy, Hizashi liked him. He was this special someone and yet, he didn’t feel as though he deserved it. But looking at the other, Shouta took note of how handsome he looked. Even behind those orange shades, his blond hair seemed to bounce as he moved and the leather clothing only seemed to make him stand out more. However, that worried look Hizashi had didn’t go unnoticed and Shouta reached to place his hands on those padded shoulders, the studs against his fingers felt unfamiliar.

But, regardless, he leaned up. He heard Hizashi hitch his breath before their lips pressed together in a simple kiss. Hizashi released his grip on Shouta’s shirt and felt like jumping for joy, though that would break the kiss he was quickly melting into. So instead, he threw his fists in the air before resting them on Shouta’s hips. Dipping his head forward, Shouta’s grip tightened on his shoulders as he pushed back. Deepening the kiss, though unlike before it wasn’t forced.

No, it was out of the pure feelings he had or rather the feelings he didn’t know he had until jealousy pulled them to the surface. He moaned softly and pressed his body against Hizashi’s, reaching up to run his fingers through the blond’s hair. “Mm, wandering hands huh?” Hizashi said as he pulled away, however, he turned his head and pressed soft kisses down the side of Shouta’s neck. Hearing the sounds of what he could only describe as pleasure, he smiled before taking a small nibble which caused Shouta to shiver in response.

He doubted that Shouta had done anything like this before, but that was alright. Hizashi himself had so little experience, still. He was more than happy to have Shouta in his arms, though they still had school to worry about. What was another year compared to the life he’d hopefully get to spend with the one who captured his heart. “Mm, Shouta…” he said, causing the boy to stir. “W-What?” he replied, his heart was racing in his chest and his face felt hot.

More than likely he was flushed, which was an unfamiliar feeling to him. Hizashi smirked and stepped closer, pressing his hard-on against Shouta’s thigh. “Ya still have something to answer for, now I like ya and we don’t have to take this step if ya aren’t comfortable but well...ya did start it,” he said and despite how he was feeling, Shouta pressed his hands against Hizashi’s chest and looked up at the man with a frown. “You want me to finish...giving you a blowjob?” he responded dully and Hizashi glanced down, his lips forming into a pout.

“Well...I did say only if ya want to,” he replied, though the throbbing ache was beginning to get painful and while he could take care of it by himself. Why bother when Shouta was here? In a way, it could make up for the fact he hadn’t done what Hizashi asked. “I promise I won’t talk about it on the radio,” he said with a smile before reaching up to cup Shouta’s cheek. “I will never talk about our relationship unless ya want me to unless ya aren’t ashamed of it.” Shouta blinked and his frown deepened.

“Why would I be ashamed, if the world is still prejudiced about such matters. Who cares, I...I like you too Hizashi and...just sit down on the desk.” he said, pointing toward the front of the shop. Hizashi chuckled and leaned close to peck Shouta’s lips. “Are ya sure the flowers won’t mind? They might be getting quite a show,” he said as he began to walk away, Shouta trailed behind him. “Shut up,” he replied, once more being his normal grumpy self. But that’s who Hizashi fell for and no force in this world would change that.

They had been friends for a long time and though he was afraid of what would happen to that friendship when he confessed his feelings. In a way, they were just continuing their relationship. Just on another level, though Hizashi would proudly take the title of Shouta’s boyfriend. Maybe it would be a little awkward at first, telling everyone his boyfriend was a florist at the local flower shop.

But for now, it seemed to suit Shouta. Though Hizashi had confidence that his boyfriend would grow up to be someone that inspired others, though he knew Shouta didn’t like to be in the spotlight. He could still shine, especially with Hizashi by his side.

#erasermic #aizawa x yamada #shouta x hizashi #bnhabookclub

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softbiker · 5 years

Text

Born to Run - Chapter 8

Warnings: some bad words

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: I love how I queued this and then tumblr literally didn’t post it :))))) anyways, the slow burn continues; bad people are up to stuff, good people are up to stuff. As always, let me know what you think!

He leaned on his motorcycle, a butterfly knife twirling between his twitchy fingers. He waited there, watching a few cars pass by on the highway, but there weren’t many at this time of the afternoon. Sweat started to pool in his worn leather boots, but he’d be damned if he complained. He’s seen hotter, been through worse. His other hand dug through the stash in his pocket, and he popped a piece of sugary pink gum into his mouth, crumpling the wrapper and letting it fall to the ground.

Gravel crunched behind him as his lieutenant approached. Rumlow didn’t turn, merely flicked his wrist over and folded the knife, waiting for the other man to speak.

“They’ve moved her into the clubhouse,” Ward said, hair greased back and oily in the sunlight. “Guess she didn’t listen.”

“No,” Rumlow shook his head with a smack of his bubblegum. “Guess she didn’t.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, the only sounds between them were his mouth on the gum and the cicadas humming in the late September heat. A couple more cars passed by, but their old gas station hangout was the last thing anyone wants to look at too closely; the road turned away from them and so did everyone's eyes. Grant Ward was sweating now, too, but he didn’t dare interrupt Rumlow while he was thinking. His mother used to say he didn’t have any brains, but he’s got enough to value his own neck and shut the hell up.

“It’s Barnes that wants her,” Rumlow finally spoke up, spitting his gum on the ground and trading it out for a peppermint. That wrapper followed the other, littering the gravel. “Rogers, Wilson - the rest of ‘em would’ve left her alone. But he wants her. Probably fucks her.”

Ward cracked a little smile at that. He was a red-blooded man, and he’d seen that doctor chick. Couldn’t blame Barnes for taking an opportunity.

“You think she’s our ticket, boss?”

“I know she is.” The peppermint cracked between Rumlow’s molars. “They just added a weak link to their chain. We tug on it and Barnes’ll come running.” He stood up from his perch against the seat of his bike, tilting his head to one side until his neck cracked. Ward shifted his feet on the gravel to put an extra few inches of space between them. He glanced at their bikes.

“We movin’ now?”

“Not yet.” Rumlow straddled his bike and spared Ward one last look. “Call the boys. We’re havin’ church.”

**********

“This’ll be your room,” Natasha leaned a hip against the door, allowing Y/N to walk in first. “Not exactly 5 star, but it’s better than being homeless.”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.” Y/N dropped her duffel bag on the bed and sighed, tilting her head back to look at Nat. “Seriously. Thank you for doing this.”

“You don’t need to thank us.” Nat was shaking her head already. “We put you in this mess. It’s the least we could do.”

“Still. It means a lot.”

After spending one more night at Bucky’s place, Y/N had gathered what was left of her (undamaged) belongings and thrown it all in the back seat of her car once more, following Bucky and Nat on their bikes as they lead her out of town towards the clubhouse. The radio faintly picked up a gospel station but she shut it off. Too much on her mind.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the warning, literal writing on the wall. “Leave while you can.” The threat was clear - at some point, they wouldn’t let her go, whoever “they” were. She’d be dead. The implication chilled her more than the break-in itself; this wasn’t a random, opportunistic home robbery. Someone followed her, found her, targeted her. And while the Avengers were doing their best to help her out, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it truly was their fault.

But you signed up for this, she told herself. Didn’t you ask for it?

A knock on the door frame, and Steve Rogers poked his head around the corner, his soft blond hair sticking out at odd angles from his helmet. He met her eyes with a small smile.

“Hey. You getting settled?” he asked, shuffling his very large body to fit in the doorway next to Natasha.

“Mhm. Nat is helping.”

“Good - that’s good,” Steve nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets, a little awkward. He had the telltale posture of a person who has something to say, but doesn’t know how to say it. Natasha noticed this, too, turning herself to face him fully.

“Spit it out, Rogers, I know that look.” She crossed her arms. He blew a defeated breath past his lips.

“Listen, I wanna start by saying that I don’t like this anymore than you do, okay?” he held up his hands, looking between the two of them. “But...I’ve been talking with Bucky, and we both feel that it would be good if - if you didn’t really go out alone for a while.”

A beat.

“Excuse me?”

“Clearly you’re in danger, we all saw the damage at your house. The person - people - who did this are not going to just leave you alone. So...we were thinking that you should have someone, one of us, taking you to work or to the store or wherever you need to go.”

He finished his little speech with an apologetic lift of his eyebrows, knowing that it would not be received the way it was intended. At the look on Y/N’s face, he tensed his shoulders, bracing himself for the blow.

“Are you out of your mind?” She was looking at him like he had just sprouted a second head. “It’s one thing to suggest moving in here, but a bodyguard? A literal bodyguard? No way. Not happening.”

Scared as she was, alone as she felt, her independence bristled at the thought of having her privacy invaded, her competence questioned. Did they really think she couldn’t take care of herself? She lived on a college campus, and then in the city for med school - she’d fended off her fair share of creeps, and all by herself.

“I knew you wouldn’t go for it…” Steve sighed, but set his jaw, not backing down. “But this isn’t really a request.”

“Are you - are you fucking joking right now?” Oh she was really gonna lose it. “Look, you may be the president or captain or whatever around here, but I’m not a part of your stupid gang. You don’t get to give me orders.”

He blinked, a stunned look on his face as if he were seeing her for the first time. Natasha was smirking, giving him that knowing look that he honestly hated - she remembered, just like Steve did, the first time he heard those words. The woman who said them. The tension in his shoulders relaxed just a little.

“I’m not trying to. I swear,” he placated. Drawing in a deep breath, he glanced at Natasha, who was no help at all today, then settled his gaze back on their guest. “Look. How about a compromise. Give it two weeks, two weeks of being escorted by someone from the Avengers, just until we get these people or things calm down. Sound reasonable?”

She hesitated. Honestly? No, not reasonable. But in the name of safety...and she did wonder, her mind turning back to the train of thought she had followed in the car. Whoever it was, they might not be fooled by her moving across town. They might even still be following her, know that she was here…

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Two weeks. But I still don’t like it.”

**********

“I’m sorry, remind me why we’re doing this?”

“You agreed to let one of us take you to and from work. This is the easiest way.”

“...you could just follow me on the bike. Or ride in my car.”

Bucky sighed heavily, slumping against the handlebars of his motorcycle.

“What’s the big deal? I thought you liked riding?” he shrugged. “Besides, riding together saves gas, and it’s better for the planet.”

She lowered her brows at him, clearly not impressed with his argument.

“Look. It’s not the bike I have a problem with, okay?” She rubbed her temples. “If I show up to work on the back of your bike, people might - they’ll think…”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “People are gonna think what they wanna think, doll,” he shook his head. “But not a damn bit of that matters unless you think it does.”

She pursed her lips, fingers fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. Enough people associated her with the gang already that her home had been invaded and vandalized. And the rest had their whispered suspicions, shared at church ice cream socials and book clubs.

Without a word, she took the helmet he offered and swung her leg around to sit behind him. At least this commute would be more fun.

**********

“So...Bucky Barnes, huh?”

“Yeah - what’s he like? He as mean as he looks?”

“Well, he’s gotta be something other than mean for her to want to date him-”

“Woah, woah slow down,” Y/N put her hand up, interrupting the flow of the nurses’ conversation. “I am not dating him. We’re not dating.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Charlotte raised her eyebrows. “And that’s why he’s following you around like a guard dog, driving you places, holding open doors…”

“Never leaving your side.” Stacey added.

“Waiting for you after work.” KC, the newest nurse, nodded towards the front door of the clinic, where the man in question could be seen leaning against his bike, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

Y/N sighed. After a week of Bucky’s protective detail, the whole town had their eyes on her. Whispers between grocery aisles and PTA meetings and over coffee at Mel’s Diner - everyone had seen her with him, on that motorcycle of his all the time, and hadn’t she seemed too smart to fall in with a guy like that? Of course, it all made sense now, what had happened over there at the Van Horn house - somebody in that gang wanted her gone, but she was too in love with Barnes to listen to her good sense and skip town. She’d heard it all; complete strangers took it upon themselves to warn her, to scold her even, for hopping into bed with a dangerous man. All of it regardless of the truth, which was that he was more of a bodyguard than anything else.

“I know you all think that there’s something going on between us,” she said slowly. “But Bucky and I are just friends. That’s all.”

The nurses had finally cornered her after several days of watching Bucky peel into the parking lot and produce their wind-swept doctor, and then seeing him reappear at lunch and in the evenings to steal her away on the back of his bike. She knew they made quite the picture, and she sure as hell knew about his reputation - she had just hoped that no one would actually say anything to her face. It was too hard to explain, even without her hesitation to reveal Avengers business.

Her words did little, if anything, to satisfy them. On the face of it, they were worried for her. The town knew nothing about Barnes other than his reputation, which was more leather than golden. When Y/N started making appearances with him, her own character came into question, with everyone but her friends at the clinic. She protested again and again that he wasn’t what the town said, that he was a good, kind person, and over time she wore them down a little - but after that it was worse. Satisfied that she wasn’t in mortal danger, the girls revealed their deep curiosity about the mysterious “bad boy” that had become her personal driver. They giggled and whispered as though they were at a sixth grade slumber party, not a medical clinic.

Charlotte crossed her arms with a smug smile, watching Y/N squirm under their questions. Maybe she just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself.

“Well, I think your friend-,” she put air quotes around the word. “- is ready to go.”

Y/N looked out the door again to see Bucky straddling his bike now, his face turned towards the door as if he could actually see her through it. The sunglasses on his face were bright and reflective in the golden hour sun.

“Alright then. Have a good night ladies.”

“Oh I’m sure yours will be better.” KC wiggled her eyebrows.

Bucky watched her approach him with a smile around his cigarette - a smile that dropped in surprise when she snatched the thing from his mouth and threw it to the ground.

“What have I told you about smoking here?”

“I’m still outside, you know.”

“Yes, but plenty of patients have trouble breathing - you could manage to not have a cigarette while you’re waiting for me to get off work.”

His grin was playful, sweet.

“Yes, ma’am.”

15 minutes later, on their drive home, he shot straight past the clubhouse without even slowing down. Lulled into the familiar trance of holding him on the back of his bike, she almost didn’t notice - when she realized what he’d done, she squeezed his waist and leaned up to yell in his ear.

“Where are you going? The clubhouse is back there!”

“You’ll see, doll!”

He stuck to the highway for a few more miles, before branching off on a smaller road through the hills. They sped past pastures and creeks and herds of cows lazing under trees, all of it still green and soft though October had managed to sneak up on them somehow. A few houses dotted the hillside here and there, with large barns to hold their animals, but other than that they saw no sign of civilization, or of people who would stare.

He turned off again onto a small country lane, following old signs that read “Old Man’s Lake Park” until they reached a gravel lot that served for parking. With a sly grin, he watched her pull off her helmet and tugged her along a worn footpath through the park, never letting go of her hand.

“I thought you might like it out here - a change of pace from going back and forth to the clubhouse and work and the grocery store.” He looked over his shoulder, and she could see his confidence fade a little, a hopeful look in his eyes tempered with an ounce of doubt.

The lake sprawled out over a hundred yards, its surface calm and glassy, cut only by a family of ducks near the shoreline. Trees dug their roots in along the bank, their branches curving down to brush the top of the water, with a couple of ropes tied to the stronger ones so that people could jump in. As the sun fell closer to the horizon, the whole scene was lit in amber and gold, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air around them.

“This...Bucky-” She looked up to find him already looking at her. “This place is beautiful.”

He smiled, a little bashful as he glanced down at his boots.

“I know people have been givin’ you a hard time...and I know it’s mostly my fault,” He sighed. “But all the way out here, there’s nobody watching. You can just...be yourself, you know?”

He was staring across the lake, the light from the water reflecting in his crystal blue eyes. She took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing.

“Yeah, I know.”

**********

“You seriously did that on a dare? I can’t believe you.”

“Well I had to otherwise Steve was gonna do it! You didn’t know him back then, he would’ve caught pneumonia and died!”

“Oh, so you went skinny dipping in a frozen lake for selfless reasons, that makes it completely different.” She rolled her eyes, unable to hold down her smile. “I’m sure your mother was very proud.”

“She was, when she figured out I was saving a life,” Bucky quipped back, eyebrows raised.

“Saving a life by almost dying - you pretty much broke even on that one.”

“Yeah, well. I was 15, I had more muscles than brains back then.”

She just scoffs, rolling her eyes again.

**********

“You know, I never really saw a lot of stars until I was deployed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Grew up in the city - too much light pollution.”

“Me too, actually.” She laid back on her elbows. “I barely know any of the constellations, except for the Big Dipper.”

“Seriously?” When she nodded, he laid down on his back, gesturing with his hand for her to do the same. “Okay, class is in session.” He pointed towards the sky above, a little to her right. “You see that group right there, with the three stars right in a row?”

Tracing her eyes along the tattoos on his forearm, she turned her gaze upwards to where he was pointing.

“Yeah, I see it.”

“That’s Orion’s belt.” He leaned a little closer, letting her eyes follow the shape that his finger was making. “Then you can follow it up here and here...and that’s the whole constellation of Orion - he’s called the Hunter, and you can kinda see there how he’s supposed to be holding a bow.”

“Oh, wait I do see it!” She turned to him, beaming. “That’s so cool!”

He was already smiling at her, his eyes flitting over her face.

“Alright - next up, Pegasus.”

**********

“Why did you really come out here?”

They had scooted closer to each other as night fell and the temperature with it. Y/N was sitting with her knees drawn up, Bucky’s jacket around her shoulders.

“I mean, I know you went with the rural practice program,” he went on. “But...I just can’t believe you didn’t have another option to pay for med school.”

She shrugged.

“Well, I could’ve gone into the military, but I’m not exactly thrilled with our current commander-in-chief,” she sighed. “And then...I don’t know, I guess. I didn’t want the stress of having to pay off my tuition by myself. So I took this.”

He nodded, silent for a few moments.

“Do you regret it?”

She didn’t answer, not for a long time - she just stared at the toes of her sneakers and pulled at the grass. When she did speak, her voice was small, barely above a whisper.

“Do you ever feel alone, Bucky?”

She could feel him looking at her, but didn’t turn.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do sometimes.”

“I’ve...I’ve never been this alone in my life.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I regret this, but I feel-I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. Like I’m lost. And no one can tell me if I’m going the right way or not.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but covered her hand with his. The sky had been dark for a long time, the stars glittering overhead and echoing back on the surface of the lake. She wasn’t sure what time it was, but neither of them had made a move to leave.

“I...know a little of how you feel,” he said, his voice low. “And I don’t think anyone can really tell you which way to go.” He squeezed her fingers, his palm covering hers. “But you’re strong, and crazy smart, and you can figure this out. And…” he sighed heavily. “You don’t have to be...alone.”

She stared at him, just able to make out the soft blue of his eyes in the dark. Something stretched between them, unbreakable in the moonlight. She couldn’t look away. On the grass between them, he threaded his fingers with hers and whispered.

“You’re not alone.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel fic #avengers #avengers fic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au

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carbrakes-and-stakes · 4 years

Text

Can we fix it? / Jared / Alain

When: Today Where: Jared’s farm What: Bob the builder, WC edition

Meddling with the radio, Alain grumbled as he struggle to find the station he usually listened to. Clearly, one of his mechanics must have been having fun with the truck’s radio. “Ugh,” turning it off, he rolled down the window and put his arm out against the door as he turned into a dirt driveway. It had not been raining, but Alain wondered how a dairy plant could come collect the milk on a road like that. Speaking off, he wasn’t seeing any cows around. Maybe this was some other kind of farm. He drove on the dirt road for about a mile before he saw the farmhouse at the end of the road. “Well, some people really like their privacy around here,” he should know, his house was also completely invisible from the main road. The place looked beautiful, and he was looking forward working in a nice setting like that. The mechanic came to an halt as he approached a closed gate. Seeing the man standing not so far from it, he raised his hand to salute him. Must have been the guy who called him for the tractor.

Inviting strangers to the farm wasn’t strictly a good idea, but Jared truly couldn’t do anything else at this point. The guys who’d dropped off his tractor had managed to barely get it onto the property. The nymph had been distracted trying to keep his kids away from sight to notice that the tractor had died rather than been turned off. There was no moving it from where it had been left and he needed it working again as soon as possible. He’d done his best to trap his most obvious kids in the farthest field from the house, he could glamour any that came too close as long as there weren’t too many of them. He raised a hand in return and grinned at the approaching rescue. “Hey! Appreciate you coming all the way out, I really can’t move it, not a clue what’s been done.” Jared called as he pushed the gates open for Alain to drive in.

Alain waited to have driven past the guy before he grimaced about what he had just been told. What’s been done? Sounded like Mr.Gordon had trusted the wrong people with his machinery. Not sure of what it was he would find, he stopped the garage’s truck a little bit further, stepping out and approaching the tractor by the barn. He tried to have a look and see what kind of animals were around, but not one of them was in sight, not even a shepherd’s dog. Well, it looked like he wouldn’t see any today. At least the scenery was nice around here, and the guy looked friendly enough. He put his tool box down, and climbed up into the cab to turn the tractor on, or at least try to, and hear the noises it made. Unfortunately, it made absolutely no noise. “Huh,” he scratched his temple and stepped out to have a look at the battery cables, check if the electrical ground was on the chassis, but both those things were okay. Not the battery. Probably the ignition, he thought to himself. “How old is the battery?” He turned to the farmer to ask his question, taking the gloves from his back pocket and putting them on.

The nymph followed along and leaned on the tire as the other climbed into the cab. Jared had experienced simple bad luck before, so he’d been holding out hopes that maybe someone else trying to turn it on would gain different results. But when the engine didn’t turn over at all he grimaced. “So the whole front end was done in recently. Joyrider took it for a spin and totalled the moose statue in town, you’ve probably seen it all messed up. I don’t know what’s been replaced and what hasn’t. I had a quick look and it looks like all the bits are there, but I couldn’t get it on at all. I’m really not a mechanic. If it hasn’t been replaced then it’s three years old. But considering the duff job I wouldn’t put it past the guys to have traded it in for something busted.”

“Huh,” pursing his lips, Alain had a look at the front of the tractor, which looked indeed, as good as new, on the exterior. He did remember reading about the moose statue and driving past it wondering which college kid was responsible for it. “Joyrider?” He repeated, an eyebrow raised. It would have been hard to tell whether he was amused or annoyed about this. As long as they didn’t raise everyone’s taxes to reimburse the damages done to the damn statue, he supposed that it was indifference that he felt. “Well, by the look of it, they did not remove anything,” however you could tell that someone had been touching at everything. The cables weren’t exactly sitting where they should have, and it was a lot messier than it should be. Nothing he couldn’t change, of course. Speaking of cables, he might have found something that needed to be moved immediately where it belonged. “Ah. The ignition is disconnected,” he explained, his hands vanishing for a moment in the tractor. “Alright,” can you try to turn the engine on? Considering how old the battery was, he’d probably have to recharge or replace it, but first, he wanted to see if the tractor started at all.

“Oh yeah, some teenager. We’ve hashed it out since then. She’s pretty nice, said she was hypnotised. But she came forward to me without me looking and wanted to make amends so I let her off the hook. She owes me like one pizza.” Jared explained with a shrug. He was pretty strapped for cash on a good day, but it hadn’t seemed fair to rope some kid into paying a lot of money for repairs. Especially since he couldn’t rule out it being his charge that had done the hypnotising. Having been given a job the nymph hauled himself up into the cab and settled in. “Clear.” he called out the open door with a laugh and turned the engine over. It gave a rumble, but it didn’t start. He turned the key a few more times, foot on the clutch but after it’s initial rumble it didn’t give him anything more. Popping his head back into the air Jared called down. “No dice, shoot, I hoped that was it.”

“I see.” Hypnotised. Right. It would have sounded like bullshit to many people in town, but Alain doubted that it was the case. Out of all the weird things that happened in town, a shady hypnotiser was not the weirdest thing you could come up with. “Huh uh. One pizza ? For wrecking your tools?” Well he would have almost felt bad for charging Regan thousands of dollars for the damage she had made. The mechanic scoffed at the young man’s joke, taking his hands off the battery to watch the Amperemeter. Right. “Alright, that thing’s dead. I’ll replace it, and we better hope that this is the end of your troubles,” after having replaced it, the mechanic would still take some time to check the rest, because clearly an amateur had been doing the repairs, and while sometimes the mess was due to lack of practice, it could sometimes be caused by straight incompetence. “I’ll be right back.” When Alain came back, he had a new battery in his hands, having left the old one by his truck. “Alright, we’re going to try that again. Ready?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair to tag debt onto a kid. She said she was sorry so that’s fine. I thought at the time I was going to get a deal on the repairs… I was wrong, but that’s not her fault.” It was a half truth, an omission of the real reasoning he was going by, but the other didn’t need to know. Jared watched nervously as the mechanic left his side. He might have done his best to make the farm as normal as possible, he knew his hedgehounds were not bundled away, and Cap the Raiju was snoozing in the greenhouse. They were loose, but as long as he kept an eye on the stranger it would be okay. Turning the key the engine rumbled to life. The nymph let out a cheer. “Would you look at that!” He let the machine rumble for a moment, having it warm up before he poked his head back out. “Should I get her moving, check she’s running alright or would you say it’s safe enough?”

“Doesn’t seem fair to cause damage to a local farmer and get away with an I’m sorry,” he grumbled back. Alain was also in favor of giving people a chance, but when it came to property damage, the rule was simple. You break, you pay. Maybe it was the fact that he spent his time repairing broken things that made him this way. Who knew. “There we go, now turn it off please,” the last thing he wanted was to get burned by a warm engine. “I’m going to have a look at the rest to make sure it’s all good. Whoever “fixed” this,” he put the emphasis on that one verb, “was not a mechanic,” he didn’t say more, but you could tell from his tone that he was not pleased. “Next time you have something to fix, please do us a favor and visit someone legit,” he glanced up at Jared in the cab with a small smile. No hard feelings here, but they were both going to waste a bit of time on this nonsense, and Jared a bit of money too. Although technically, the money had been lost on the first repairs.

Jared shrugged. Saying anything more about Layla wouldn’t do him any good, he’d slip up somewhere and reveal too much. Best just agree to disagree. He did exactly as he was told and cringed as the mechanic explained that whatever ‘deal’ he thought he was getting was definitely not a good one. He had the shame to look a little bit guilty even when met with a smile from the other. “Guess being cheap really does not pay off.” He sighed forlornly. Hopping out from the cab back onto the ground Jared felt he should try and make it up to the man. Sure he was being paid for his help, but it was obvious he was frustrated by the mess that he had to work on. “Can I get you a drink or something Mr…?”

“I mean, cheap can be fine. I know a bunch of mechanics in training who work extra hours for cheap out of their apprenticeship,” his arm disappeared inside the tractor as he spoke, his eyes focused on what he was doing. “If you want to pay over the span of two months, or three, that can be done,” Alain didn’t see a problem with that, and was sure that Mr.Gordon would appreciate it. “Babineaux,” he nodded politely. It couldn’t take too long now. While Jared was gone, he turned the engine back home to spot any possible leaks, any cracks. He had his mechanic's stethoscope in hand when the farmer came back. He couldn’t hear anything suspicious, no rattling, scratching, or knocking. “I think she’s good to go,” he took off his gloves, putting them back in his back pocket, and turned to face him.

“I’m sure there are a ton of people better than the guys I got. This is what I get for always being online looking for deals.” Next time, Jared assured himself that he’d just spend the money. At first he’d been able to deal with doing things without the vehicle, but he’d have had it back a week ago if he’d just taken it to this guy. Oh, Jared was ready to be Mr Babineaux's most loyal customer. The nymph returned with his arms full of drink options. He had tins of soda, and a bottle of water, along with a hot cup of coffee. it was a lot to hold, but he was good at juggling. He was met with good news and bounced on the balls of his feet grinning from ear to ear. “That’s great news! I totally thought you’d be here all afternoon by the way those guys ran from the property once it shut down.”

“Well I’m not going to ever advise you to go for the cheapest,” especially when the price was really not reasonable for something that cost time and money. Alain’s brows furrowed as he saw his client come back with too many things in his hands. “Wow, that’s… impressive,” both the juggling and the desire not to upset him. He did not have the heart to tell him that lemonade would have been nice, and instead accepted the cup of coffee, figuring that it was the most urgent thing to take off his hands. “Thank you,” he sat down on the front wheel to start enjoying his coffee cup, laughing lightheartedly at Mr.Gordon’s glee. It felt good to see someone genuinely happy. This was not something you saw often, or that he saw often at least. “Glad I could help. I’ll email you the invoice in the afternoon, ok?”

As soon as the coffee was out of his hands Jared sacrificed the rest of the cans and bottles to the floor. He’d been unwilling to accidentally fizz any of the tins up before the mechanic had a chance to choose, but once that was out of the way jared was sure he’d remember he’d dropped them. The nymph patted the back wheel of his tractor and continued to smile broadly. “Do you take cash, bud? Just my bank account is really struggling recently, but I’ve had a real good run at the market with my flowers. Got more cash than anything else. Thanks for coming out by the way. I don’t think I have anyone around who could pull this thing into town for repairs, all I have are my horses to attempt it but that seemed a little unfair to them you know? They’ve done a lot when the tractor was gone for fixing the first time.”

Well now he was really happy he picked the coffee option. Alain looked down at the mess on the floor with wide eyes. Alright, so maybe Mr.Gordon was a bit weird. He sniffed at his cup of coffee discreetly, then took a sip. “I…” Well it did not matter much where the money came from, or how he was getting paid, as long as he was getting paid. “Sure, cash is fine,” the man had a look around, his brows furrowing as he thought he caught sight of something in a field. Even with his eyes, he couldn’t be too sure what it was he saw, but that didn’t look like something natural. He remained quiet and took note of that. He probably could tell Kaden or Nic about that later. There was no doubt that they’d be happy to check what this could be. “That doesn’t sound fair at all. These things are a lot heavier than they seem,” he agreed. Finishing his cup of coffee, he looked into the field once again, wondering if he had dreamt it. “What kind of cattle do you have here?”

Too caught up in the delight of his tractor FINALLY being returned to him fully fixed up after it’s tangle with the moose statue, Jared hadn’t noticed that one of his charges had wandered away from the rest of the herd and was coming into their eyeline. He was oblivious to the fact until the mechanic looked into the fields and asked him about his animals. He tried his hardest to act natural, and to keep his face smiling. But the shine in his eyes was gone and instead a light sweat formed on his forehead. “Oh all sorts. I prefer livestock to crop farming, Although I still do a little of both just to make the cash needed to feed my kids you know?” Not a lie, not technically a lie anyway. “I do a lot of rescue work actually, so a lot of my cattle aren’t dairy or anything. They’re just living a safer life out here.” And with that Jared rapidly dug in his pockets. “So what do I owe you for the first installment bud?”

“Heh,” he put down his coffee cup on the steps of the tractor. Not exactly what he expected as an answer. “So you sell meat then?” Since he was not selling dairy, and not relying on crops, meat had to be his main source of income, certainly. Alain might have not been a specialist when it came to farms, he knew enough to guess that this was probably it. Now what kind of meat he sold, he was curious. “Thanks,” he didn’t ask more questions, heading back to his truck to get the invoice book. “The battery is gonna cost you $120.15, labor cost…” he kept mumbling to himself for a while, before handing the invoice to the farmer.

He was being trapped in his lies and it made Jared shift on his feet uncomfortably. “Yeah I try to do it as ethically as I can, so little by little. Not going to lie bud, it’s hard so that’s why I thought getting a really cheap deal on the repairs would be a good idea.” His heart sank at the cost, and it was even worse when the invoice was passed his way. “It’s a good thing I bulk bought pasta from the store the other day huh?” He waved the mechanic off with a smile nonetheless. He’d done a good job, and Jared was ready to never take a short cut like he had again any time soon. It was a real mechanic or bust from now on.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #para #para jared #can we fix it ?

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mollysmythtymsyllom · 4 years

Text

No Other Choice

It was late, everyone on Adriena’s team had gone home hours ago, everyone that is, except for Meredith Webster. Meredith was too busy doing what she always did when she got hyper fixated on a case. Meredith was going over paperwork for the hundredth time, trying to find something that she had previously missed. It wasn’t about being the one who caught the bad guy. Meredith wasn’t doing this for the acholyities. Meredith wanted to get the killer locked up, so that no one else would die. It was about protecting her fellow officers, it was about protecting her found family. Ever since she realized that the Trapper Killer was making their way toward their station, Meredith had been having nightmares where her teammates were found dead and branded. She couldn’t let those dreams come true.

As Meredith worked, she listened to the police radio that she had borrowed from Felix. She read through her files, but every time someone spoke through the radio, Meredith would look up and listen. The chief wasn’t as worried as she was, so when her and Adriena had gone to him, telling him that he needed to make sure his officers never went to any cases relating to one of their failed or unsolved cases, he laughed and told them that would be very difficult to keep track of. Well, Meredith was keeping track for him. She now knew everyone in the precinct’s case histories like the back of her hand. Everyone on the team, and all the other officers.

Logan had been invited out to meet with some of her college friends that she hadn’t seen in years. The hangout had been awkward, but she was glad she did it. She missed those friends. She may not be the same person she was in college, a lot had changed since those days, but those women had been her friends, and she found that they were still able to get along pretty well. She was on her way home when she drove past the station and noticed Meredith’s car in the parking lot. Logan looked at the time on her car dashboard, then rolled her eyes and pulled into the parking lot. She was coming to learn that her partner could be even more obsessive about a case than she could.

Logan walked through the station the long way on the off chance that Officer Lewis would be at her desk, unfortunately Tara didn’t seem to be there. Logan shrugged and made her way to the homicide office. She knocked once before letting herself in. “Hey, you’re still working?”

Meredith looked up at the sound of her partner’s voice. She scrunched her nose at being caught in the act of working overtime, and off the clock. Though she figured that out of anyone in the office, Logan was one of the people least likely to tell Adriena that she was working too hard. “I’m just reading up on a case,” she said, eyes moving back to the file in front of her. “I should be done soon.” Then someone spoke on the radio. A man, Officer Stevens, listing off a license plate number. Meredith closed her eyes, thinking over Officer Stevens’ failed and unsolved cases. Logan watched, not knowing that her partner was thinking.

“Reading up on a case, huh?” Logan said, breaking Meredith’s concentration. She walked over to Meredith’s desk to look at the files spread out in front of the other. “You mean, the case, the one that you’ve been reading up to since before Detective Anderson brought it to us?” Meredith shrugged. “I’m close, I think I know a way to catch them.” Logan arched her eyebrows. “Wanna fill me in?” Another voice came through on the radio, the dispatcher sending Officer Smith and Officer Yang to an emergency call about a fire. Meredith thought back to all of the two Officers’ cases. “My idea is still mostly just a theory,” Meredith said once she finished running her mind through the cases. “A theory,” Logan said, sitting down on the only clear space on Meredith’s desk. “How was your dinner?” Meredith asked, changing the subject. “How did you know I was-” “You’re dressed for something nicer than just drinks with Tara, so I’m guessing either one of you two finally got brave enough to ask the other out on a proper date, or you had dinner plans with something else.” Logan narrowed her eyes at Meredith. “You really are a good detective.” Meredith shrugged.

Another voice on the radio, dispatch again. “We have a code fourteen-twenty-four at the docs, can someone go check that out?” Both Logan and Meredith thought through their memories to recall what a code fourteen-twenty-four was. “Called in report of suspicious activity,” Logan said, and Meredith nodded. “Yeah, I can go check that out,” the responder was Officer Joanna Johnson. Meredith frowned, Logan looked to the radio, waiting, hoping just to hear Tara’s voice. Ohhh she had it bad. “Just you?” the dispatch guy said. Meredith pulled open the file cabinet on the side of her desk. “No,” she said under her breath. “Yeah, Tara and I just had a bit of a spat, I’m gonna give her some breathing room,” Joanna said. “No, no, no,” Meredith pulled out the file and started turning pages frantically. “What?” Logan asked her partner, half distracted by what she had just heard from Joanna. Tara had just been in a fight, maybe Logan should text her to see how she was doing. Or would that be too stalkerish? “Fuck,” Meredith stood up, her chair scraping loudly on the floor. “What?” Logan asked again, her own panic rising even though she didn’t know what she was panicking about yet.

“Three months ago Joanna and Tara responded to a report of suspicious activity by the docs,” Meredith said, crossing the room to open the closet that held their bullet proof vests. “By the time they got there, two men were dead in a drug deal gone wrong.” Logan watched as Meredith put her vest on. “Yeah, but why are you ––?” then it hit her. “Do you think?” Meredith nodded. “The Trapper Killer has their next target,” she said with conviction.

Logan jumped off the desk and hurried over toward the closet to grab a vst for herself. “What are you doing?” Meredith asked. “I’m coming with you,” Logan said as she started to put her vest on. “Meredith, you can’t go in there without backup.” Meredith was hit with a surge of fear. “What? No. I’m your superior and I’m telling you to stay put.” She didn’t even realise the irony of the situation until after he spoke again. “Don’t you dare try and get out from under my orders or so help me I will have Detective Anderson fire your ass. . .” Logan stood there frozen on the spot, almost glaring at Meredith. “We are wasting time arguing about this, I am your partner and I am not letting you do this alone. You need me there, Meredith, stop trying to protect me.” Meredith clenched her jaw for a few seconds. “Meredith! We have to go!” “Right, fine.”

The two got into Meredith’s car, Logan holding the radio, not wanting to miss a call for help by Joanna. “Maybe it’s a false alarm,” Logan said, hands shaking as she looked down at the radio, praying for Joanna to make some joke about finding a racoon in a trash bin. “It’s not,” Meredith said, her concentration on the road as the police sirens blared. She wouldn’t be able to explain why when she was asked later that night, but Meredith just knew that this was the real deal. She knew the danger Officer Johnson was in. She needed to get there. “Call, Felix,” “But what if?” “Detective Grey! Call him, now.” Logan did as she was told this time, calling Felix and telling him where they were going and to contact Adriena immediately.

Meredith turned off the police sirens three blocks from the waterfront. She didn’t want the killer to know she was coming. She hoped that the person was twisted enough that they needed to monolog before they branded their victims alive then killed them. She felt bad for wishing that Joanna was being tortured, but if that were the case, then there was a chance that she was still alive.

When they parked the car, both Logan and Meredith took the safeties off their guns. “Cover me, watch the door, don’t come in unless you hear shots fired,” Meredith said, hoping that Logan wasn’t going to protest this time. Logan simply nodded. “Be careful, Webster,” Logan said. Meredith gave her the best reassuring nod she could muster in the tenseness of the situation. Suddenly there was a loud scream that was muffled into silence. Logan and Meredith looked at each other one last time, then Meredith made her way inside.

“You people are all the same, all the same.” It was a man, judging just on his voice in his mid to late forties. “You think you can abuse your power and slack off on the job and you don’t care who gets hurt because of it.” As she creeped closer, Meredith could hear the soft whimpers of a gagged Joanna Johnson. “What’s it to you if someone else dies on your watch? You don’t even care, do you?” Meredith had to be quiet, she only had one shot at this. She had to hurt this man badly enough to eliminate him as a threat to both her and Joanna, without actually killing him. No, he had to live and pay for his crimes. “Do you know how many people have died because of your incompetence Officer Johnson?”

Meredith rounded the corner, her gun firmly in her hand. What she saw was almost enough to make her heastate. Joanna Johnson was tied to a chair, her arms tied down to the arm rests of the chair. The sleeve from her left arm looked like it had been rolled up, there was a piece of rope tied onto her upper arm, and a burn mark just under the rope. Standing on the other side of her was a man that Meredith immediately recognized as Brad Gardner, even with the grown out beard that covered his face. Mr. Gardner was preparing a needle to probably stick in Joanna’s exposed vain. “Freeze!” Meredith called, but instead of freezing, Mr. Gardner kicked Joanna’s chair over, causing her head to make a loud crack as it hit the stone floor, and took off. Meredith took her shot, but only managed to graze the man’s shoulder before he was around a corner and out of sight. She hurried over to Officer Johnson and heard another shot fired from outside.

“Hey, hey, Jo, stay with me.” Meredith looked at the other woman who’s eyes seemed far off, looking past Meredith. She probably had a concussion from hitting the floor so hard. Meredith began to untie her, ears straining for any noise from Mr. Gardner or Detective Grey. “Meredith?” It was Logan. Meredith let out a breath of relief. “Here, I’m okay, but Officer Johnson needs medical assistance.” The second she finished her sentence, she heard police sirens on their way. Felix came through again. Meredith wondered if Adriena had been notified, and if she would get yelled at for going after this guy. If she had waited, tried to get Adriena first, then Joanna would be dead, there was no changing that. “Did you get him?” Meredith asked Logan, who shook her head. “By the time I saw him he was already too far away.” Well, they didn’t catch him, but now they knew who he was, and nobody died. @thelightxwithin

#Meredith Webster #Logan Grey #Joanna Johnson #thelightxwithin

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siribear · 4 years

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alice avoids concord even though it’s a safer route, now clear of raiders and the deathclaw. well, she doesn’t avoid concord so much as she avoids the carnage, the blood and gore she caused, the first human lives she ever took. she barely spares it a glance as she cuts through the field just outside the town.

skirting the edge still takes her through familiar territory, familiar roads and buildings and maybe even trees? though they’re blasted and ruined and broken apart like everything else - except her. maybe.

now she wishes he brought codsworth, if only to not listen to her inner stream of consciousness.

she travels by road once she puts concord behind her. though it’s still mostly traveling off-road with the cars near-piled on top of each other. people trying to escape, those that couldn’t make it to a vault - those that weren’t on the list. one of her neighbors had wanted to drive all the way to the coast. she wonders if one of the rusted frames belongs to them.

somewhere outside lexington, she runs into a giant mosquito. it flies toward her with legs longer than her torso, and shrugs off more bullets than it should be able to. when it bites, it sinks deep into her neck and feels worse than a needle slipping under her skin. the too-long legs release her, and just like that it makes to fly away. vision blurring, she fires into its torso, watches as it falters and the blood it took from her slosh in a too-big sac. with another shot, she breaks the sac and it bursts like a popped water balloon, blood splattering across the road.

alice drops to her knees and presses her palms against the pavement like she can stop the world from spinning. stop her world from spinning. she checks her pipboy and there it is, the little warning flashing for blood loss. she drinks from a can of water, legs crossed, on the side of the road.

her neck itches.

ignoring the skin already rising as her body reacts to the bite, she switches to the radio on her pipboy. diamond city radio had always been the one station she could pick up but now - now there sits another, just under it. a military frequency. she tunes in, curious. static crackles from the speakers. out of range, possibly.

she stands, walks further into the commonwealth, toward college square. near cambridge, the transmission clears.

this is scribe haylen of reconnaissance squad gladius to any in transmission range. the transmission hisses with static. -requesting support or evac from our position at cambridge police station. repeat, requesting - knight rhys! the message cuts off with an automated voice before repeating.

nate always said she had an issue with helping people. with not helping people. but it was why she became a lawyer, to make sure the little people didn’t get swept under the rug of the law. to make a difference.

she never got the chance, before.

even if she didn’t know where she was going, the echo of gunfire leads her directly to the police station. barricades surround the courtyard, towering above her head. a group of ferals charges the barricades, slipping through the walls and piling near the openings. alice fires at the one in the lead, dismembering its leg on impact. a bright flash of red turns the feral into a pile of ash. the others charge through, kicking up ash as they storm the courtyard.

she slips in behind them to a scene from a horror movie. blood and limbs cover the ground, scattered around a small group of survivors: a man in power armor and a pair huddled near the door. she spares a glace at the two holding their own, and moves in beside the man in power armor. they share a brief nod before continuing to defend the others.

by the end of it, they’re surrounded by a semicircle of gore. blood mixes with ash at their feet, dead bodies piled around them. but the ferals are dead, and none of them are too worse for wear. the man beside her turns to face her with a sigh.

‘we appreciate the support, civilian.’ he reminds her of nate’s old military officers, despite looking her age. disciplined, nate would say. ‘but what’s your business here?’

alice shrugs. ‘i just happened to be passing by when i heard the distress call.’ she holds up her pipboy. ‘thought i’d see if you still needed the help.’

‘and if we didn’t, you’d simply come for the loot?’

‘absolutely not. if it was just me and that horde of ferals, i’d have run.’ she looks from the man to the others at the door. ‘is it just you three here? i’m amazed you held out.’

his eyes narrow. ‘answer my question first. you don’t seem like a regular commonwealth scavenger. not with how you took down those ghouls.’

‘o-kay. my name is alice. i’m with the minutemen up in sanctuary. the... general, actually,’ she adds, a small afterthought.

the man sitting by the door barks a laugh. now that she looks at him, he’s not so much as sitting as he is simply trying not to move. the woman kneeling next to him sticks a stimpak into his side. ‘like hell i’m believing she’s a general, paladin.’

the paladin closes his eyes and sighs again, heavily. ‘i’ve heard of sanctuary. there wasn’t anything up there of use to us.’ he eyes her pipboy. ‘just an old vault, locked tight.’

‘don’t look at me. i’m not from the area - ’

‘these minutemen must be desperate - ’

‘knight rhys. enough. scribe haylen, tend to him inside, please.’ haylen does, draping one of rhys’s arms over her shoulders.

‘anyway,’ alice continues, smiling to put the paladin at ease. ‘what’s your name? who are you guys?’

‘paladin danse, brotherhood of steel. i... apologize for rhys’s behavior. it’s been a fight ever since we got to the commonwealth.’

‘it’s no problem, really.’ she’s met plenty of men like him in her time. ‘why the police station?’

‘given its former use and fortification, it only made sense to use this as our base. the radio tower was an... unexpected boon.’ he gives her a nod.

‘guess you didn’t get the same warning i did about the ferals in the area, huh?’

she gets what she assumes is his equivalent of a laugh in a short huff of breath and a half smile. ‘apparently. we’re supposed to be investigating a signal - distinct, old-world tech. i’ve been trying to get ahold of my superiors now that i’m a man down and low on supplies, to no success.’

‘you could just ask for help, you know.’ again, that suspicious look. ‘call it curiosity. and a genuine desire to help.’

he looks her over before nodding. ‘all right, then. take what supplies you need from the station. when you’re ready, we’ll head out.’ a pause. ‘and don’t think you can steal anything.’

‘you have my word, paladin danse.’

she follows him inside.

‘arcjet isn’t that far away.’ his voice comes muffled through his power armor helmet. ‘just up this road.’ she pretends she doesn’t know the way.

‘so,’ alice starts. ‘what does the brotherhood of steel do?’

danse keeps up his half-jog when he answers, ‘we salvage technology. repurpose it to understand it. keep it out of the wrong hands. we protect the wasteland, much like you and your minutemen strive to do.’

‘sounds admirable,’ she pants, having to jog to keep up with him. ‘seems like a difficult job for just the three of you.’

he slows to a walk, allowing her to catch her breath. ‘once we retrieve the deep range transmitter from arcjet systems, i can contact the rest of the brotherhood.’

she nods, considering. ‘and that signal you mentioned?’

‘we narrowed it down to the area around cambridge, but haven’t been able to pinpoint its exact location.’ his grumble comes out lower through the helmet speakers. ‘i suspect it has something to do with the institute.’

‘the... institute?’

‘scientists that abuse the very power we try to protect against. the same power that brought about the great war.’

a cold chill runs up her spine. ‘sounds like bad news.’

‘indeed.’

arcjet systems, when they reach it, is mostly empty. she checks desks and bookcases to find them already looted. danse ushers her ahead. in the next room, bodies of broken protections, warped screws, and wires cover the floor.

‘someone took care of security for us,’ she says.

‘i don’t like it. no spent ammo casings, no blood...’

she hums. ‘laser fire?’

‘the institute and their synths,’ he confirms. she can already imagine the frown set behind that helmet.

‘what’s a synth?’ she asks as they slowly proceed down the next hallway.

‘synthetic human,’ he explains with infinite patience. ‘the institute’s favorite abuse of power. some of them near indistinguishable from another human. others...’ he braces himself against the doorway leading to another room. he gestures with his laser rifle, and she peeks into the room.

robots. plastic skeletons, all exposed wire and unfinished plastic casing, wide, yellow, unblinking eyes scanning the area. sleek, white guns in hand. the ones that took out arcjet’s security.

‘on three,’ he whispers, and begins to count down.

three, he bullrushes into the room, drawing laser fire toward him as he strafes the wall. alice fires at the synths on the upper levels, picking them off each time they poke their heads out of cover. danse finishes off those on the ground floor. the area smells like burnt plastic, after.

‘the transmitter is in the lowest level,’ he says while she inspects the body of one. ‘good work back there.’

‘you’re an excellent bullet sponge,’ she says with a grin.

they encounter more synths as they travel further into the building. the robotic voice disturbs her more than the yellow eyes. even general atomics equipped their robots with natural sounding voices, but these - the institute didn’t even try. their voices barely inflect, low and even and creepily robotic, as they taunt her and danse.

when they reach the core reactor, she can hear the awe in danse’s voice. ‘look at this place.’ he leads her down a metal catwalk and stairway. ‘scribes would have a field day in here.’

she has to agree. the catwalk spirals them around a large rocket thruster, to the bottom floor. on the other side of a window is another room with a set of terminals. alice looks up from the testing floor to the top of the room, where they’re supposed to be.

‘there has to be a way to power the elevator. check out that room. i’ll keep an eye out for any more synth patrols.’

unfortunately, the terminals lack power. alice puts her hands on her hips and sighs. she looks around. behind her, an open doorway to another room. inside, she finds another terminal, hardwired to a different power source. she hacks it easily, and finds the option to reroute power to the testing terminal.

when she returns to the other room, she watches danse, surrounded by synths swarming in from the other elevator. she yells his name, but he can’t hear her over the firefight. there’s way too many out there, at least twenty and counting. the only thing saving danse is the power armor.

she looks to the room again, to danse, keeping the synths out of the hallway leading to her, and the - the thruster. ‘hang on, paladin,’ she says, mostly to herself. she accesses the terminal in front of her and... there. initiate test fire. she hits the keys harder than she needs to and listens to the countdown as even more synths enter the room.

come on.

five long seconds later, the engine roars to life and what was once an orange flame flashes white, burning out the entire room as flames lick up the walls. she blinks to clear her vision, then looks back at the test room to silence. no synths, all ash, and - and paladin danse, kneeling near the door, unmoving.

alice runs.

‘holy shit. holy shit, paladin danse, are you all right?’

it takes him a long, agonizing moment of her thinking she’s cooked him in his power armor before he lets out a sharp exhale. ‘i’m... fine. my power armor saved me from the heat.’

‘i’m so sorry - ’

‘don’t be. it was quick thinking, and we’re both alive. let’s - ’ he rises to his feet. ‘let’s go.’

she follows him wordlessly to the now powered elevator, sweat prickling the back of her neck from the residual heat. in the top-most room, they find the transmitter and another elevator to the surface.

danse leads her back to the police station in silence.

#oc: alice ward #siri drabbles #series: we will all go together when we go #my sleep schedule is so WACK this took forever #i took like 2 naps in between...#also i keep restarting fallout 4 so i don't forget what i'm doing lmao

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elle-boll · 5 years

Text

Rescue (Queen)

TW!!! - There is a major scene of domestic abuse, if this is a triggering subject for you, please do not read on. If this situation is familiar to you or you are going through a situation similar, I promise there is a way out and there are resources available for you.

To those who wanna read on, enjoy and stay safe. It’s not perfect but I think it’s okay for now :)

~~~~~

The hustle and bustle of the outside world seemed like too much for you, the shouting and cheering of drunken young adults was but a mere dream to you. The flat was cold, no one had paid the bill for the heating...or for anything, it was a miracle you still had accommodation. All you wanted was to cosy up and fall asleep like you did every night, but sleep was a rarity when you lived outside a pub in a college town.

The old radio you owned sat on a battered up coffee table. It played any radio station you could reach, the room echoed with old blues or recent hits. Your lips lazily mumbled to the words of whatever played. All you could do nowadays was think and wait, and fear. The couch was a hand-me-down, it stood to witness everything. It sat on it’s lonesome to witness various fights and quarrels between you and your boyfriend. Speak of the devil, was your final thought as your chest felt like it dropped. The key was jingling in the lock and your heart was pounding against your ribs. It took longer than usual. The chill in the room radiated around you, you knew you should hop up and make yourself look occupied, but you sat frozen, hunched on the cushions of the couch. You wanted to be swallowed up.

A soft creak from the door, the stomp of heavy work boots, the rasp from clearing his throat.

“I know you’re on the couch, lovely” He coughed. You knew he had just been smoking, his voice sounded scratchy. “Rich...it’s late” You mumbled, slowly sitting up. He never called you pet names unless he wanted something from you.

“Darling...love, come to me” He rasped, your head peeking over your shoulder to see him standing by the open door in his scruffy coat, his stubble patchy and unshaven. You stood up, standing on the balls of your feet to avoid stepping on nails.

“Come on...we don’t have all day, I just wanna see my darling” He smiled with his arms out. You tried to shake the feeling that he had other plans up his sleeve, and loosened up, picking your pace up. You went to launch yourself against his chest, till you felt his hand grab your wrist harshly.

“Thought you’d make a fool of me, huh? Let’s make one of you...tell everyone I’m abusive or some shit, I house you! I do all this for you and you gossip about me?!” He raised his voice.

“I haven’t said a word! If I did I know goddamn well it wouldn’t reach you!” You fired back, feeling your wrist ache under his grip. You held back any winces, any weakness.

“Lying bitch!” He spat, spit flicking onto your skin. “You think I don’t hear!? Huh!? Answer me!” He yelled, he never gave you a moment to answer. He grunted swears before dragging you outside. You only had a jumper and underwear on. You couldn’t go outside. It was a Saturday, the first Saturday of the Christmas break, everyone was out and about. Your bare feet were dragged down the stairs of the flats, you cried out that you wanted to go back, you wanted to discuss it inside, you begged.

“Y/N! Shut it! We’re gonna give you the attention you want! Out in the ice and with everyone to listen!” Rich yelled back, his voice boomed throughout the blocks.

Your cries echoed just as much as his yells. Your hand felt numb. You started to raise your voice as the front door got closer. It was wide open.

“No! N-NO!” You cried, trying to force him back inside. He practically threw you out. Your feet slipping on the frosty steps and you slipped right down them, behind hitting the pathway, students and young adults alike quickly pulling themselves away.

“Well!” He yelled, trying to stifle his laughter as he also made his way down the stairs. The cheering of students down the roads quickly quietened. Your thighs felt icy cold, your jumper now damp on the back. You were humiliated. Tears streamed down your face and your cries were loud and audible.

“You wanted attention...and you have it, cunt” He grinned, slamming the door of the flats building, leaving you to cry on the path, with everyone staring.

“Out of the way! I said out of my way, people!” You heard, and you quickly began to try pick yourself up. Your body was freezing, and your behind hurt from slipping down the steps. Your wrist was aching and turning deep purple.

“Pardon me! Not really, just fuck off and let me through!” The voice was coming closer. It didn’t sound threatening, but it was multiple footsteps.

Your nose ran and you just wanted to wake up, like it was just all a fever dream of some sorts. The crowds parted, and you were still shivering on the frosty ground.

A man made his way through, hair long and black and his mouth parted, showing the cold air as he exhaled.

“Oh gosh, Roger! Your coat, you don’t need it, here, take my hand” He spoke, his accent prominent, teeth quite prominent as well. “My god blondie, do you have to make a show, just give me the damn coat!” He raised, snatching it away from him as he took your hands, slowly pulling you up. Another man ran behind you, tripping up slightly. He stood with his hands against your back to make sure you didn’t slip back down.

“My, my, you poor thing” The first man sympathised, putting the coat around your shoulder and helping you put your arms through. “Your absolutely frozen, it isn’t your day, is it?” He kept speaking, it was calming in an odd way, to have someone there to care and dote. It was a feeling you missed, to be doted on. He zipped up the coat before putting an arm around your shoulder and taking hold of your hand.

“Come, come, let’s get you somewhere warm, you poor thing, we might have some spare clothes, they won’t fit exactly, but it’ll do, won’t they?” He smiled at you, he hadn’t even introduced himself. You did get a look at the only one that you could label, Roger, he had fluffy blonde hair and he was dressed in short sleeves. You felt bad for taking the jacket.

“Now dearie, I'm terribly sorry, I never introduced myself, I’m Freddie” He told you as he took you into a pub, through a back door. You heard the voices of three men speaking behind you.

“She has little bruises on her legs, look it” One muttered.

“Did you even see the lad who threw her out the door, looking like one drunken oaf, an actual bastard” The other scoffed.

“I don’t wanna send her back, did you see her wrist? Practically black and blue” The final voice retorted.

“Will you all just shut up for once, we have a serious situation on her hands, John, go grab some spare trousers or pants from the duffel bag thing!” Freddie called back as he sat you down on a tattered couch in the back of the pub.

“Now darling-” Freddie got down on a knee, coming at eye level with you, “-You don’t have to, but what happened?” He took your hand again. His grasp was so warm and welcoming, so safe.

You told him the story, and the backstory, well, all of them listened really. The blonde sat on the arm of the couch, his hand on your shoulder. It hurt with his slight hard grip, but he didn’t notice that he had such a stubborn hold on you. You tried not to cry, but it was hard not to. You showed a variety of bruises, especially the one on your wrist, you felt like you had to prove you weren’t seeking attention.

“Thank you for telling us, I...I don’t think you should go back there, that’s not ideal. Here, get changed and...let us know what you want to do, okay?” The blonde, Roger, told you, looking down at you, letting go of your shoulder, wiping the tears off your face with a tissue that was strangely damp. You were handed a large pair of cargo pants, they all turned to give you a sense of privacy, the room was still slightly tense.

“So, a bit chilly out...huh?” One tried to start, “Not now, Brian…” Another scoffed.

“John, Brian, do not squabble like children” Freddie sighed before turning. “Ah! The absolute pinnacle of fashion, give me a twirl!” He announced, you laughed a little, spinning around in someone’s brown cargo pants, Roger’s oversized coat and your soggy jumper.

“My god! Is this the catwalk, you are killing it!” He encouraged, smiling with a bit of relief when he saw you smile.

“So, you know me, Mister Freddie, this is Roger, he’s an odd one, this is dear John, he is the only tolerable one and last but not least, the lovely Brian” He concluded after a long-winded monologue of why they were in the back of a pub. About a small gig and how they were an up and coming band. Instead of sitting around for a cup of tea, you and the group decided it was best to go to a police station and get your situation sorted. For the first time in a while, you felt safe and like you couldn’t be harmed. It was a rare feeling, but God was it good.

#queen #freddie mercury #queen x reader #queen imagine #roger taylor #john deacon #brian may #fanfic

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