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yourstruleejn · 2 years ago

Text

our beloved youth

fate has a cruel way of bringing people in and out of one’s life. be it through weather changes, old memories or what seem to be mere coincidences. Jeno and you parted ways a long time ago, but destiny still has its say in who you end up with.

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pairing // lee jeno x fem! reader; other characters include lee donghyuck (other dream members are mentioned) and aespa’s kim minjeong

genre // fluff; maybe angst? good ending tho; high school au + college au !!; exes to ??? (it’s kinda our beloved summer inspired but like /mildly/); everthing that is in cursive is a throwback !!

word count // approx. 10k

tw // drinking but legal ! (let me know if i forgot any!)

playlist // here

authors note // this one took me a hot minute and i’m not sure if i’m 100% happy with it but i think it’s the best i can do for it at this point! i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! and also sorry for just disappearing haha i’ll try to write more/faster in the future and summer is coming up so, be prepared!

! reminder ! everything i write about on here is entirely fictional and in no way am i saying this is how the boys would act in real life ❥

i. like downpour you come and go

Jeno sighed as the raindrops hit the concrete. He was currently seeking shelter from the violent rainfall at a bus stop. Just moments ago, the sky had been a vibrant blue, and now it was painted all grey. A groan of frustration left the young man when he realized he didn’t bring his umbrella. Just great. He really wasn’t sure why he agreed to meet up with Donghyuck, when he could have spent his day off at home, avoiding the current downpour. But a few days ago, the promise of a beautiful day outside with one of his best friend convinced him. On top of this series of unfortunate events, that albeit were out of his control, irked him incredibly nonetheless, Hyuck had texted him a few minutes ago that he was going to run late. That of course was to be expected, and Jeno had actually taken Donghyuck’s usual fashionably late arrival into consideration when he left his apartment, but he still arrived at the park before his friend did. He just hoped Hyuck would arrive soon.

A notification from his phone crushed this wish, however. He frowned reading the text he had had just received.

Hyuck: Hey sorry man, I think its gonna take me another thirty minutes, the trains delayed because of the rain.

Hyuck: but you could go to the café near the bus stop. They make a mean hot chocolate. Wait for me there. See you.

Getting to the café would be a problem Jeno concluded. There was virtually no way for him to get there without getting completely drenched. However, the thought of good hot chocolate convinced him to sprint over there. Besides, it really didn’t seem like Hyuck had left him any choice, saying he’d meet him there.

Unfortunately, Jeno was not the only one to try to sit the rain out at the café, so it was quite literally packed with people. There was not a single table unoccupied, all the waiters were running around, a little stressed, trying to get every new customer their order. It seemed they hadn’t expected the rain either and were understaffed for the business boom caused by the sudden weather change.

For the third time today Jeno was tempted to let out a dramatic sigh and wish that he had stayed home, but out of the corner of his eye, at the far back of the café he saw a table for two, occupied by one. Normally Jeno wouldn’t go up to a stranger and ask if they could share the table, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The table was somewhat secluded from the hectic main area of the small café. Jeno was surprised that anyone had spotted it at all. He suspected that the young woman sitting at the table must be a regular and in the café before the rain had started, or else she wouldn’t have been able to secure such a nice, quiet space to finish her work. Jeno approached the table, but with her gaze fixed on the screen of the laptop in front of her, she didn’t seem to notice him advancing in her direction.

Jeno cleared his throat, “Excuse me?”

The second that the young woman’s eyes moved from her work to Jeno, his heart literally stopped. Well, figuratively stopped. He realized that the young woman he had hoped would share her table with him was you. Technically meeting you wouldn’t be such a big deal, if only it hadn’t been so long and if only, he hadn’t left the way he did.

Staring back at him, you looked just as surprised as he did. Eyes wide open and slight confusion written over your features.

“Hi,” Jeno breathed out, “I didn’t realize it was you. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you while working.”

A quick smile was thrown in your direction and then he was ready to turn around and leave. He was honestly just planning on going back out into the rain, which he hoped would wash away the embarrassment he had just felt from this very one-sided interaction. Even though you had had little choice in that matter.

You were too stunned by seeing Jeno again after all these years to immediately react. Your mind was racing quite a bit and you only really comprehended what had happened when you were already faced with the man’s back. So, just like that Lee Jeno reentered your life on a rainy day, just like he once had. This time he was quicker to leave you behind, though. You sighed.

May was always especially rainy and on this particular day in May you were incredibly unfortunate. Usually, you always had an umbrella with you, just in case, but you had lent it to a classmate just a week prior, and he hadn’t given it back yet. The morning had already been incredibly suffocating with the humid weather, so your mom reminded you to bring an umbrella to school, but in your morning rush you had forgotten to take an extra one with you. So, here you were standing just beyond the main entrance of your school, willing the downpour to halt, just for your way home, then the rain could fall as much as it liked. You just had to get home. 15 minutes, max.

You were just about to call your mom to pick you up when you, noticed someone with what looked like your umbrella move past you. The audacity some people had. “Hey! You!” you glared and shouted after the figure.

The student came to an abrupt halt, turning around and pointing at himself with a confused look. He was an upper classman, and it was obvious that he was startled by a younger student, such as yourself, talking to him in a demanding manner. Such manner that it made him seriously think that he had wronged the girl in some way.

You ran through the rain to get to the boy as fast as you could, to retrieve your umbrella and give the boy a piece of your mind. Even though it had only been a split of a moment you were out in the rain, you could already feel the fallen water on your skin. Your hair must’ve already curled its way back to its natural state, so you weren’t surprised to see the surprise on Lee Jeno’s face as you appeared in front of him in such close proximity. The umbrella was just big enough to shield both of your bodies from the rain. You must’ve looked crazy.

Even in all of his confusion the thought that you were pretty crossed his mind. Or the thought that you would be pretty had you not such a serious, maybe angry, definitely annoyed expression written over your face. Generally, Jeno thought you were pretty even with such a expression overtaking your features, but since it was directed towards him, he was slightly worried.

“That’s my umbrella.” You stated matter-of-factly.

Normally you wouldn’t talk to an upper classman in such rude fashion, but you had had a really rough day and just wanted to get home not thoroughly soaked. Studying his features, you recognized the boy in front of you. You knew who he was. The whole school knew who Lee Jeno was; stellar student and star athlete. Captain of the school’s Baseball team. You also heard that he was nice and helpful in moments of need. All you needed him to do right now was give back your umbrella.

He looked at you confused, “It’s my friend’s, Park Jisung’s”

Park Jisung. Said classmate you lent your umbrella to a week ago. He had begged you to lend it to him, since he had to carry some comic book, which apparently was worth more than his yearly allowance and Chenle (another one of your classmates) would most definitely kill him if he got it wet. You agreed since you had actually brought extra rainfall protection on that day. Now, of course, you were regretting the decision.

You sighed, “No it’s mine. I lent it to Jisung last week and he hasn’t given it back. See it’s my initials on here.” You pointed to the bottom of the handle, where in neat handwriting your initials adorned the umbrella.

“Oh.”, was all Jeno said. However, he still held onto what was now established to have been your umbrella.

“Well?” you asked expectantly, “Can I have it back?”

“But then I don’t have an umbrella.” He looked at you, brows furrowed.

“That is in all frankness not my problem.” You reached to grab the umbrella from him, but in a swift motion, almost a reflex, Jeno took a step back, leaving you exposed to the heavy rain, mouth open in shock.

Jeno had never pulled someone towards him so quickly. He hoped the grip on your arm wouldn’t leave marks, but when he had taken a step back, to keep the umbrella in his grasp, he hadn’t thought as far ahead as you standing in the rain without anything shielding you from it. In any other scenario Jeno would have blushed, being so close to a girl, but he was just so shocked and surprised with himself to actually comprehend the even closer than before proximity of your body.

“Sorry.” He whispered almost inaudibly.

You scoffed. Was this guy for real? With the added wetness to your school uniform and hair your body began to shiver despite the somewhat warm May temperatures. Now you really wanted to get home. You were about to curse at the boy in front of you when he stripped off his blazer and placed it over your shoulders.

“I’ll walk you home.” He stated, smiling comfortingly, as if it was a solution to all of your problems.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No.” Jeno’s eyes went wide at that, never once had someone rejected his offer to walk them home. He himself thought it was sweet to do such acts of service. Before he could rephrase his offer and explain what he had meant, you continued, “I’ll walk you home.”

Now Jeno was blushing.

ii. flowers are a gift from the earth. and a reward from me, for you

It was a slow day. In every aspect. Spring break meant that there were barely any university students in town. Well, barely any but you. You were working in an empty shop, while it was the most beautiful day outside. You sighed, seeing the beams of light come through the glassy front of the shop which overlooked a small square. You loved to work in the flower shop, really. It was one of the best jobs you’ve had so far. You loved interacting with the customers, creating beautiful bouquets to give to their loved ones. You thrived off of the love, as well as the general distraction from whatever was going on in your life. That’s why, on days like these, when it was just you and the flowers, both doomed to observe the sunny outside world, your mind wandered to places you’d rather it didn’t.

The short and coincidental interaction you had with Jeno just a few days ago occupied your mind more than you had hoped it would. It seemed like he couldn’t get away fast enough. It was obvious that he hadn’t recognized you at first, but it would be a lie for you to say you hadn’t done everything in your power to distract your mind from him the second he had stepped into the shop, all disgruntled and annoyed from the rain. Your first instinct was to laugh about it and wave him over, as if he was here to see you. Thankfully you were able to muffle that instinct as soon as it rose up from deep inside of you. The distraction part was also going fairly well, until the young man decided to march right up to and ask something, you weren’t really sure what it was, just to turn around within five seconds, giving you no time to react. It was a little overwhelming seeing him again after all this time.

When you had told your roommate Minjeong about it, she burst out laughing. But upon seeing your expression she placed a hand on your back. Her face turned from teasing to empathetic and almost worried within a split-second. A small smile its way onto her face, “Still hurts, huh?”

You just nodded, bringing your knees up to your chest and sighing once more, to let all of the unspoken feelings out, without actually speaking them still.

The truth was back when Jeno and you parted ways, it was sort of mutual. Sort of because, while you didn’t not want to be what you were right now, Jeno’s points and worries made sense. He was graduating high school a year before you were, going to university kind of far away. So, you decided to break up, if you can even call it that since technically you were never officially each other’s significant other. Still, you considered yourself to be Jeno’s, and you were sure he considered himself yours as well. Back then it was easy for all of your girlfriends to paint Jeno as the villain, giving him dirty looks at school, for the little remaining time he was still roaming your school’s hallways. You knew it couldn’t have been easy for him either.

It still was easy enough for him to leave town without a last goodbye, though. When you found out from Jisung that Jeno had left right after graduation, and didn’t say a final goodbye, or anything at all really, it was easy to believe the words your friends had to say about him. And for a time, you did. But soon the anger turned into hurt, which eventually got more and more dull until you barely noticed it on a day-to-day basis. Only certain things, sounds, smells brought back the memory of your love that never really got to be what could have been. Well, could have, would have, should have, didn’t.

So here you were, wallowing in your first, and so far, only love that mattered. All of this made you just sadder so, to make it go away you decided to just let your head rest on the counter before you. It smelt like fresh cut flowers even more intensely than the shop already did. Trapped in your busy brain you didn’t notice the bell at the door ring.

“Is the shop closed?” an unsure male voice called from the entrance.

You were quick to react, happy that there was someone to take your mind off of Jeno, “Nope. No. I’m here. Sorry.” You said, lifting your head quickly off the table.

You had to stifle a laugh when you saw who had stepped into the flower shop. Was this fate playing some incredibly vicious joke? Whatever you had done in your past life must’ve been quite the crime, you concluded.

In front of you stood none other than Lee Jeno, who to be fair looked just as bamboozled to see you. You let out one sigh before saying a soft greeting to the man. Now that he wasn’t running away from you, you could study his features. He hadn’t changed much. The main difference was merely his more adult look, but put him in a school uniform and boom, you’d be back to being 17 and in love with the kindest, sweetest boy you had ever met.

Your heart ached at the thought that he was probably here to buy flowers for his girlfriend, nonetheless, you had to keep the business going, “What can I get for you today? Something pre-made or would you rather select the flowers for your own bouquet?”

Jeno was taken aback by your professional /read cold/ behavior. Despite the polite smile on your face, he couldn’t recognize any of your warm, welcoming expressions from high school (experienced by Jeno only after he had given back your umbrella, of course). Then again, basically running away from you last week couldn’t have helped his cause. Other than the change in expression towards him you still looked just as graceful as you did in high school.

When Jeno had first noticed you back then he was far from brave enough to talk to you. He knew you were friends, well classmates, with Chenle and Jisung, but he still struggled to find a reason to introduce himself to you. That’s also why he thanked a higher power for the unexpected downpour that one day, as well as everything else that followed.

“I’ll just take the one with the sunflower. But could you please wrap it?” he spoke softly, as if he was asking you to do an impossible task. The impossible task of wrapping up his new girlfriend’s flowers?

You just hummed softly, taking the bouquet off the stand, and bringing it to the back of the counter. For Jeno the silence was suffocating, for you it was welcome. You were focused on working right now anyways. Concentrating on getting the flowers wrapped as gently as possible.

“How have you been?”

Jeno’s question caught you by surprise. You halted your current actions and looked at him. It wasn’t a necessarily unhappy look, but Jeno still felt exposed under your gaze. Well, besides the fact that he had just interrupted your delicate wrapping of his bouquet, as well as practically sprinted out of a café at the sight of you, you just weren’t sure what he was looking for with asking the question.

Jeno was tense looking at you, looking at him, but after a moment or two your features softened, and you turned your attention back to his purchase. You nodded softly, “I’ve been good. Busy. Good-busy, though.”

Jeno let out a relieved sigh, “That’s good.”

You threw a small smile in his direction, finishing up the packed bouquet and handing it to him. He politely thanked you as he took it from you, paid, and with that he was out the shop.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bringing a cooling hand to your cheek you tried to calm your nerves, before tackling the cleaning of the stray leaves and blossoms that decided they didn’t want to be part of Jeno’s bouquet.

You picked up one of them and brought it closer to your eyes, to get a better look at it before softly whispering, “the others are traitors, thank you for staying.” You then proceeded to giggle at your own silliness before actually continuing to tidy up.

What you didn’t know was, that Jeno was watching you through the window. He smiled at your habit of being soft and vulnerable when you thought no one was watching. You used to do that a lot, however, Jeno almost always got to sneakily witness those moments. There even was a time you would act that way around him without hiding. Of course, he couldn’t hear what you had said, if he had he probably wouldn’t have come to the conclusion that you were happy, but you looked happy.

You: smiling. Over the past two weeks Jeno had been fortunate enough to be able to see you like that a lot more often than he was used to. He was also lucky enough to have gotten to know you better ever since that fateful day in the rain. Now, here he was on your second date, well hang out, watching you ramble on about anything and everything while sipping on the Capri Sun you had brought to share. Initially, you had brought two, of course, but Jeno had already finished his and you had offered him another sip from yours, so he had stolen one or two from your pack as well. You said it was ok.

“If I fail my history test tomorrow, it’s totally your fault.” You stated as you happily strolled along the park, not at all worried about said test, Jeno noted.

You two were actually supposed to study. The both of you had another two tests just before a short break. Your history test was dreaded by all the students of your grade, and Jeno, having already taken the test, suggested he’d help you study for it. From the beginning you suspected you wouldn’t get a lot of studying done and that the plans with Jeno would definitely stir up your whole day. Actually, you were quite sure that Jeno would stir up your whole life, turn it upside down.

“You won’t fail the test. It’s pretty easy actually, I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” He chuckled to himself. He had scored a 93% last year, and from what he had gathered he was sure you were a lot smarter than him, “besides, it’s so nice outside today. It’d be a tragedy if we spent it cooped up in the library all day. Consider this a short break, we are only stretching our legs for a minute.” Jeno proceeded to dramatically stretch his limbs, groan and sigh, leaving you giggling, shoving him lightly.

“Ok mister, I play video games all night but can’t sit still two hours to study without my body getting stiff.”

“I actually move quite a bit when I play video games!”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You laughed. Despite being slightly worried about the exam, it was nice taking a break. Or taking the rest day off, as you suspected it would turn into a full-afternoon-adventure.

“Tell you what, I’ll ask you one of the most asked history questions ever, and if you get it right, you stop worrying about the test and embrace the afternoon plus I will give you this daisy,” he quickly picked up the tiny flower from the grass beside the walkway, “and if you don’t get it right, you definitely need the break because there’s no way you will get this wrong.”

“So, either way we’ll spend the afternoon not studying?”

“It’s called self-care” he smiled his infamous eye-smile. You shook your head; it was foul play. Jeno knew you were weak for his smile. Well, he probably knew you were weak for him.

“Okay. Shoot. What’s the question?”

“When was Rome founded?”

You laughed, “You really think Mr. History Teacher is going to ask questions like this?”

“Sounds like you’re avoiding answering. You’re right, Y/N, maybe you should be worried.” He dramatically shook his head.

“753 BC. Idiot.” You glared at him while he just smiled, proud that you knew your romans.

Jeno grabbed your arm the get you to slow down and halt in front of him, “Don’t you want your reward?” he smirked.

Your cheeks were burning and judging by Jeno’s smirk, he knew what he was doing to you. Ever so slowly, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and moments later placed the daisy behind it. He looked at you as though you were the most precious painting in the world. You whispered a small thanks and then the two of you continued you way through your study-free, sun-filled afternoon.

As time went on, you talked about all sorts of things; Your families, music, and goals after graduating. (After all you hadn’t really known each other for all that long.) The last topic left a bittersweet taste in Jeno’s mouth; He was excited about finishing high school, sure, but you had another whole year of school before you, and while your maybe-relationship (?) was incredibly premature and the two of you were only getting to know each other for now, Jeno knew how he felt. He knew how much he liked you, and he just didn’t want to stop anytime soon. Or ever. But for now, break was coming up and Jeno was sure to remind you to make time for him. It made your heart flutter. The attention Jeno gave you was unlike any other you had ever gotten before. Looking back, you were so happy that Jisung didn’t give back your umbrella right away (or ever really). You smiled contently as you walked side by side the last rays of golden sunlight warming your skin. A small smile adorned your lips as Jeno casually slipped his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

“It’s gonna get chilly soon, we should preserve the warmth.” He was blushing slightly. Since the umbrella incident Jeno had managed to control his blushing a little better, only turning three to four shades redder when he came in sudden contact with your body. He wouldn’t have it any other way though, it confirmed his feelings, and he liked the butterflies.

So as expected and promised, the short study break turned into an afternoon full of laughter, every thought of history cast aside except the one you were making for your own lives. With the golden light fading and the sky slowly turning into a twinkling, tiny polka-dot pattern, Jeno dropped you off at home. The warmth of the day had subsided, but you didn’t even notice the change of temperature as a gentle kiss was placed onto your cheek, warming you up from the inside out.

You hadn’t even properly processed the kiss, before the boy made another swarm of butterflies erupt inside of you, “Hey Y/N? If you get a higher mark on that history test, I’ll buy you real flowers, okey? But if my score ends up being higher, you’ll buy me some!”

You chuckled, your hand finding the daisy behind your ear. Challenge accepted.

iii. let me hold your hand, so you don’t fall for someone else

Days were long, boring, and filled with thoughts of you. Jeno hadn’t actually seen you since that day at the flower shop, yet he seemed to see you everywhere. Daisies blooming, umbrellas everywhere, and hell, Donghyuck’s new dorm room was room Nr. 753. (so technically he was also thinking of ancient Rome?)

When Jeno had first told Hyuck about his little encounter at the coffee shop, he burst out laughing and kept bringing it up throughout their whole meet-up. Most of Jeno’s friends had always been Y/N-enthusiasts, so Jeno was sure there was some hope, some hidden agenda in Donghyuck’s continuous mentioning of you. It would’ve been a lie for Jeno to say that you and everything he had felt, he feels, for you was in the past, so he chose not to talk about you at all.

It was hard. Especially after seeing you again in the flower shop, all he wanted to do was tell Hyuck how happy you looked, and how bad he felt for wanting to be included in your happiness. However, he didn’t deserve to have such demands after leaving. Back then you were determined to make things work and Jeno was quite overwhelmed with the ending of his childhood. Staying friends is what he suggested, and although he could see that it hurt you, you agreed. But in the end, it wasn’t what Jeno wanted at all. He was in love with you, he just wasn’t sure how to handle such strong feelings in a time of such change. And thus, he just left. Friends don’t leave their friends without saying goodbye. Not when they go home after a movie marathon and certainly not when they leave for university. Sending a message was the least he could do, and he typed it out, but he just never hit send.

In any case, Jeno was sure your happiness was more than complete, even without him. So as Donghyuck was putting the flowers Jeno had gifted him into a vase, and he kept teasing him about how it was sweet that he knew each of the guys’ favorite flower, Jeno was thinking of you. And as the small dorm filled with the rest of their friends, he was thinking of you. And as he walked home that night, he was thinking of you. And the next day, he was thinking of you.

The first time Jeno really wished he could stop thinking of you was a rather unexpected one. Jeno would’ve bet his throwing-arm on the certain emptiness of the library during spring break. There was virtually no way anyone else would be between the bookshelves, except for the people that actually worked at the library of course.

In an attempt to simply lower the volume of the tiny voice inside his head that kept chanting your name, Jeno decided to stop by the library to pick up a few books he would be needing for upcoming essays and whatnot. The bike stands in front of the building were almost empty. Only few bicycles scattered around the metallic constructs, some put up properly, others toppled over. Jeno was almost certain that the bikes were either placed there for a quick stop to the convenience store on the other side of the road, or that they had already been there and not been moved for the majority of the semester. In any case, Jeno was counting on the library being empty, as well as it being a quick visit of picking up books and then getting back to his apartment and possibly calling up the boys for an afternoon in the park.

The cool air-conditioned atmosphere and the smell of books welcomed Jeno as the doors slid open, inviting him in. The old lady working at the front desk was sitting comfortably reading a book; a good sign for no one being in the library, no books to put away. It was also quiet. Well, it was a library after all. But during the semester, when the library was full of desperate students, there were always some sounds, even if it was only the turning of pages. The lady barely acknowledged Jeno as he walked past her determinedly. Jeno knew where the books were that he needed so he didn’t need her until he was actually checking them out.

Strolling through the rows and rows of bookshelves, Jeno couldn’t help but feel some sort of comfort. This was an environment he knew pretty well; it was also because outside of baseball, Jeno never really did much but study. Of course, he had hobbies like gaming and hanging out with his friends, but he also cared about his grades, so he always made sure to have enough time to study. Days like these would’ve been a portal straight back to the past if it wasn’t for the lack of you. Jeno shook his head at his thoughts wandering off towards your direction once again. He sighed, sliding the last book he needed off the shelf and turning back to head towards the exit.

Just as he was about leave the aisle of books, he spotted someone familiar sitting at one of the tables. He had to refrain from audibly sighing. From what he could tell, you sat alone at one of the tables at the far end of the so-called study space. The window front let in enough light for students to not get sleepy during their endless hours of studying, and at this very moment your gaze was turned towards the outside world. Jeno just stood and stared for a second. Was this really happening? Running into you for the third time in only 2 weeks, this must be some sort of sign, right? Divine intervention to get you back to him. But just as Jeno worked up enough courage to go say hi to you, invite you out to coffee maybe, just as he had gotten his legs to work again, as he took the first step in your direction, a head popped up beside yours. A male head.

Jeno once again stopped and stared. Your mouth turned into a smile as the young man next to you whispered something into your ear. Shaking your head, you shoved him back into his seat and he once again disappeared behind the wall. Looking at the scene now, it was clear that you weren’t alone; Two bottles of water were placed on top of the table in front of you, numerous textbooks were stacked on top of each other, none of them for your major and at an even closer inspection, you were reading a novel. So, you weren’t studying at all, simply accompanying your… boyfriend? You kept smiling at the guy in front of you, you kept giving him the attention Jeno wanted, the attention Jeno once had, the attention he had lost. He appeared once more from behind the wall and grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Had Jeno stayed a moment longer, had he not turned around the second the other male’s fingers wrapped themselves around yours, he would’ve seen you pulling your hand from his grasp and sticking your tongue out to your friend in mockery. But he didn’t. So Jeno concluded that this was not a sign for him to talk to you. This wasn’t divine intervention to get the two of you back together. It was the message for him to move on. So, as he checked out his books, he tried not to think about you. Walking back home, he tried not to think about you. Entering his apartment, he tried not to think about you.

Jeno wasn’t used to not succeeding at things. He had always done fairly well with everything, so why was this any different. If only he had held onto your hand a little bit longer, if only he had held it a little bit tighter, then maybe you wouldn’t be falling for someone else.

“Y/N” a soft voice woke you from your sleep. In all honesty you weren’t entirely sure when you had fallen asleep but the position of your head on the book in front of you, as well as the pain in your neck, indicated that it wasn’t an intentional nap. You hadn’t fully opened your eyes yet, when another statement was made by the soft voice, “You’re drooling allover your novel.” With a surprising speed your hand flew to the corner of your mouth checking if what was had been said was true (it was not), but you were only met with a giggling Jeno.

“Ha ha. Very funny, Jeno, thank you so much for the entertainment. I should hire you as my alarm.”

“Does that mean I get to wake up next to you every morning?”

You playfully rolled your eyes in an attempt to control the butterflies in your belly.

The two of you had spent the afternoon in the school-library. Jeno studying for his final exams and you reading. The afternoon quickly evolved into nighttime and looking outside now you were met with a pitch-black darkness, that did not look welcoming at all. Observing the outside, you let out a sigh, sleep still heavily clouding your brain.

Jeno on the other hand was looking at you, smiling. Before you fell asleep, he couldn’t get any studying done because he loved watching your facial expressions while you read. After you fell asleep, he couldn’t get any work done because he was busy just staring at you and listening to you breathe. There was a small smile on his features at all times, he noted to not invite you along to (serious) study sessions again.

Only then did you realize that Jeno had already packed up all of his things, “Are we leaving already? I’m not tired at all I could do this for another 3 hours minimum!” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms theatrically.

“Okay sure, sleepy head, but what you’re forgetting is that you have a curfew, and as the responsible young man that I am, I shall bring you home at least fifteen minutes before then.” He stated, smiling at you, and reaching out his hand for you to grab.

You checked the time, and it was true, your curfew was coming up rather fast and you really had to get home. You placed your hand in his and watched as his fingers wrapped around yours, the warmth from his hand spreading all the way to your heart. Too focused on the love you had for the boy in front of you, you didn’t realize that apparently your legs weren’t completely awake just yet, resulting in the first step being somewhat off? And then the next one had you stumbling completely. So, two steps in and you were already on your way to hit the floor.

But thank God for Lee Jeno. Thanks to him and his incredibly strong arms as well as very nice reflexes he caught you just in time spinning you towards him instead of the ground. Both of your eyes were big in surprise, staring back at each other. You opened your mouth in an attempt to thank him but his lips forming into themselves into a grin, made you reconsider your words for another moment. And that resulted in Jeno being faster with his reaction to the incident.

“Falling pretty fast for me, huh?” he smirked.

Your lips turned into a smile, “That totally ruined the moment just now, do you know that Lee Jeno?”

“Oh no not the government name.” He feigned fear, opening his mouth, and widening his eyes. This expression was soon replaced by what you could tell was a genuine smile, “You’re not going to move away?” he asked, suddenly somewhat shy.

Too caught up in Jeno’s joke and the general situation to have actually moved away, you hurriedly took a step back to give the boy in front of you some space. But before you foot could even hit the ground again, Jeno pulled you in once more, smiling. He promptly placed a soft kiss on your forehead (something he had seldom done before, especially in public!) and then placed his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the library.

“Let’s get you home, sleepy head.”

You were sure your face was glowing with all the blushing it had been doing in the past moments. While the heat radiating from it welcomed the cooler night-air, the fresh air did little help to calm your racing heart.

iv. let’s stray alone

The world was spinning. Moving too fast and it seemed like you just couldn’t catch up with it. Your brain wasn’t doing you any favors by making everything blurry. Maybe downing that last drink wasn’t the greatest of your ideas. Your feet halted for a second as you tried to stop the carousel that seemed to be the ground for a second. You had to get yourself together in order to get home as soon as possible.

You had gone out for drinks with some of your friends and not planned on getting this intoxicated. There really wasn’t any occasion for your celebration, although it is important to say that Minjeong referenced to the evening as a mourning-party for you, since you clearly had fallen once again for Lee Jeno. You really wanted to contradict her, and you almost did, but then again you knew there was no point in lying to your best friend. She had observed you each and every day since Jeno came into the flower shop, thus Minjeong knew exactly what was going on. Contrary to its name, the outing today was actually supposed to keep your mind off your high school romance and keep the mere idea of men out of all your brains. It was doing a pretty good job (which was surprising since most of Minjeong’s Missions ended in chaos) until Lee Donghyuck walked into the bar of your choice. And thus, chaos spread. At least in your mind.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Minjeong sighed. Confused you followed her gaze. At the sight of your former school mate, you almost had to laugh. “There’s no way Jeno will show up, is there?”

“Lee Jeno is haunting you, Y/N” one of your other friends said giggling.

“It’s fate! Destiny! I’ve always said Jeno was your soulmate” another one chimed in, excited at the thought of your romance.

Minjeong scoffed, “Jeno doesn’t deserve Y/N, not after the way he left.” She turned to you, “You okay, bubs? We can leave if you want?”

While you appreciated Minjeong’s offer, you knew she had wanted to go a club after this, so in a swift motion you gulped down the drink in front of you and shook your head, “I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun. I’m just going to go home and relax there, where the possibilities of running into Jeno are zero.”

“Never say never!” your friend chimed in making, most of the girls at the table laugh and you roll your eyes.

Minjeong just nodded along, watching you slip on your jacket. “You sure you don’t need me to walk you home? You know it’s not far, I can be back in like 30 minutes. You had quite a few drinks.”

It was true, your apartment wasn’t far, and you really had a few drinks, but with flushed cheeks and a small smile you declined her once again and headed to the door. You risked one last look back at where you saw Donghyuck, regretting it instantly. He was watching you, knowing him, he probably had been for quite some time. He offered you a smile, which of course you reciprocated. You had always liked Jeno’s friends. They were incredibly welcoming in high school and in the couple of years where Jeno was playing baseball out of town, you had seen them a few times and caught up a bit. But now with his apparent return to your hometown and thus the possibility of Jeno showing up any second, and further confusion for you and your apparently not gone feelings for him, you decided to just throw Hyuck a small wave. Finally, you escaped from a for your heart potentially difficult situation.

So here you were: Drunk, almost home and most definitely scared of still being in love with Lee Jeno.

You remember your mom telling you once that cool night air is the best remedy for intoxication, and up until this starlit night you would have stood by this, but tonight it seemed to not work its magic at all. Sitting down on a park bench just behind your apartment building you let out sigh looking up at the sky. Bad idea. Who would’ve thought that looking up would actually make the spinning worse? Quickly you lowered your head and stood up again deciding it was time to finally get to your apartment.

Taking the way you had, meant you had to go through a sketchy ally which then led straight to the entrance of your building, and it was also where the stray cats lived. You smiled to yourself thinking of the many days you stopped by to feed them and got some cuddles in return. Not all of them loved you, of course, but you were proud to say that all of them at least tolerated you (meaning none were hissing at you anymore). Turning the corner, you were still smiling about your furry neighbors, Jeno somewhat forgotten at the thought of getting to pet them.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your feet came to an abrupt halt. The cats were there. But there was also someone else. Crouched down, stroking the kitties as they happily munched on what you could only presume was provided by the host. Your breath hitched, suddenly everything you did was too loud, and you could swear any second now he would turn around and see you just standing there, watching him like a creep. No. Nope. You were definitely too drunk to talk to Jeno right now. As well as too fragile, if you were being honest.

Carefully and quietly, you took the few steps back behind the corner you had just turned. You breathed out. The guarantee of invisibility thanks to the wall allowing you to gather your thoughts. Arguing with yourself whether or not you should just go up to Jeno, you took a peek. He was now sitting on the road, one of the cats settled comfortably in his lap. You didn’t have to see his face to know what look was on it. A soft smile spread across your features as you watched the boy you once came to love interact with the cats that have brought you comfort countless of times. You hoped he found comfort in them too. You heard Jeno let out a small sigh, barely audible, as he played with one of the kittens.

Caught up in his own thoughts Jeno was happy to have stumbled upon the strays. He was on his way home, after dinner with the guys. Donghyuck had insisted on them getting drinks later, but Jeno had refused, alcohol wouldn’t help his aching heart and he would end up drunkenly calling you or worse running into you, with his luck. Of course, he didn’t tell Donghyuck that, who would just insist on him tagging along. Jeno knew deep inside he wanted to run into you again, just so that he could finally tell you everything he’s been holding inside, how sorry he is he left the way he did, how much he has been thinking about you and most importantly how he never stopped being in love with you.

Who knew he would unknowingly end up in front of your apartment? Fate had its ways.

“What am I going to do, huh?” he asked the cat in front of him. Looking around Jeno had come to the conclusion that somebody was taking care of them; toys were lying around, and water bowls stood filled up to the brim. “Someone’s been taking good care of you. Hopefully they show you all the love you deserve. I’m sure you take good care of them, too. You think someone will take care of me too?” Jeno chuckled at the silliness of talking to cats about his troubles. But his heart was heavy, and he wasn’t used to feeling this way. The past years he was doing okay, thinking of you every now and again, having fond memories together and re-awakened the occasional butterflies, but now? The thought of you brought a longing and regret.

Jeno had no idea that you were watching him. I mean how would he know? Hidden behind a wall was not only you, but your heart as well. Hearing Jeno say these words confused you more than ever. Only a few years ago you were sure you and Jeno would end up together, now? You were hoping for it deep down, but you weren’t entirely sure how to go on about it. It was just a little more complicated than either of you had anticipated.

The first stone for the wall around your heart was set when Jeno asked you to talk. Technically that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. The two of you always talked but it was the way he phrased it that worried you. It was how he didn’t grab your hand pulling you away from your friends, how he didn’t place his hand on your lower back to lead you outside, and most importantly it was how reluctantly he spoke and how he didn’t really look at you.

Just days ago, the two of you were smiling and laughing together. The feelings you felt for the boy were so intense, almost overwhelming, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Back then, you wanted to tell Jeno you loved him. (You didn’t verbally, but he knew. Exactly how you knew he loved you.)

Now, here you were standing in front of the boy you loved, who was avoiding your gaze at all costs. Deep down you were hoping he was just nervous to /finally/ ask you to be his girlfriend, but you knew that wasn’t why he wanted to talk.

“Is everything okey?” stepping forward you tried to seek out eye contact, growing more worried by the second. Over the past few months, you had gotten to know Jeno quite well, and while it was a fairly trouble-free time, you had experienced him worrying. Mainly about the future and how his childhood was coming to an end. But this was different. Jeno was afraid of losing you, that had always remained unspoken. But now, he just wasn’t sure how to make things work.

“I’m not sure how we should go on about this.” He still wasn’t looking at you directly, which only added to your nervousness.

“What do you mean exactly?” You blinked confused, taken aback by the statement. You weren’t exactly sure how he expected you to react to this. You understood his worries, however you always figured you were going to come up with some sort of plan together, that maybe during summer you were going to work things out together.

“I think, I think we should just be friends.” Jeno thought his voice gave away that this wasn’t what he really wanted. In the end he wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing what he was doing. It’s not like it was the lack of feelings that proposed a problem but rather the overwhelming love he felt for you. Everything was a lot, it was just too much, and no matter how cruel it sounded, you were the thing he could get rid of most easily. He couldn’t stop time from moving forward, he couldn’t not graduate and not go to college. So not pursuing the love he had for you was the easiest way to lessen the weight of change. Even though it was the last thing his heart wanted him to do.

“Oh.” At first you were just relieved that he was alright. But then the reality of what being friends implied hit you, “Right.” You breathed out.

Jeno’s eyes met yours for the first time. Jeno could see you close yourself off towards him. He tried to explain everything he was feeling as best he could, without hurting you any further and without admitting his feelings making things even harder for the both of you. He tried to lessen your weight as well. But you just nodded along to what he was saying, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. Jeno could see you holding back tears, he too, was trying to stay composed, keeping up the façade of doing this for the ‘greater good’. It was just the easy way out, really.

“Are you okey?” his voice was soft, as though he was handling something incredibly fragile, which in some ways he was.

At last, you looked at him with a small smile on your lips, but not one that spread warmth around his heart. This smile was distant. A single tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to wipe it away, “Well, I can’t say it is what I would have wanted, but if it is what you want, there’s not much I can do, right? So,” you tilted your head and smiled a tad bit wider, still not fooling Jeno, “Friends?”

It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he wanted at all, but at the same time he really didn’t know what else to do. He knew you weren’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to do, but it still hurt to hear you say that this is not what you wanted. It laid out the blame loud and clear. And you were right. You thought that this was something the two of you would talk about together. That the process of figuring Jeno’s post-graduation was something the two of you would do together. So, in the end he made a decision you should’ve made together, alone.

The thought of being friends with Jeno while still feeling all this love for him was almost impossible. Comical even. And when he left a week later without saying goodbye, you realized it was impossible for him too. Jeno never wanted to be your friend, he just wanted out and that you couldn’t understand.

v. fate has its ways

Things had been quiet for the past two weeks. The lack of Jeno gave you time to think clearly without freaking out too much. Honestly, at first you were surprised by how much of an effect he still had on you, but after reminiscing in the memories you had with him, you were impressed by not being affected by it more. The good memories made you excited at the thought of meeting Jeno again on accident. You realized pretty soon into your Jeno-escapades that you had forgiven him, that his presence was ever missing from your life. And besides, were many things remained unspoken between the two of you.

Fate definitely was playing games with your heart, since now that you were hoping to see Jeno, you didn’t. Just after he had scrambled up you and your life again, and you were starting to feel happy about it again, he disappeared. Not that it was his fault that you stopped running into him, but every corner you turned you were looking for him, every time the bell at the flower shop rung, signaling a new customer had entered, you hoped it was him, and at every little disturbance at the café you hoped it was Lee Jeno who was pulling you out of your thoughts. Of course, it never was him, always leaving you disappointed, looking for someone who you once loved and were ready to love again. Fate really was cruel.

For Jeno the world was spinning. When Donghyuck had told him that you were at the bar that night, his decision not to go felt like the worst decision anyone had ever made. It felt like missing the jackpot of the lottery by one digit, like bingo, but someone else said it faster. He doubted every decision he made, that didn’t lead him to the bar that night. From what Hyuck had told him, you had left almost immediately after he had arrived, why he didn’t know. But Hyuck had described you as very tipsy so maybe that was the reason why you left? He chuckled at the possibility of experiencing you drunk although he hoped you had gotten home safe that night.

So, Jeno too kept looking for you, everywhere. Although he was not quite as determined to talk to you as you were to talk to him, he longed for your presence in his life and the sunshine it had once brought. He didn’t expect you to be the exact same person as you were in high school (who would be after so many years?), but he was certain that you had only gotten even more perfect over the time you had spent apart, though he wasn’t entirely sure how that would even be possible.

With days filled with the thought of you in addition to his college student responsibilities, the weather had turned warm, and summer was approaching as quickly as ever. Time had gone by much more quickly than usual and Jeno wanted to stop wasting it without you.

Cicadas. The sound of summer. Even in the city they played their music day and night. It never really was quiet in your hometown, too many students celebrating too many occasions. There was always someone playing music too loudly from some corner of your neighborhood, so hearing the loud sounds of the cicadas was refreshing. It was like a welcoming greeting whenever you left your apartment in the evening. Minjeong had left to visit her family over the weekend, which for you meant that you had little to no motivation to cook for yourself. Of course, you still had to eat so you decided on stopping by the store just by your apartment building for some instant dinner.

You were happy on days like these; You had been productive enough to treat yourself to something, yet you hadn’t let the day go by without stopping to enjoy the small moments like listening to the cicadas or lingering on the balcony, in the sun for a moment longer than you normally would have. Jeno crossed your mind every now and then, memories resurfacing you hadn’t realized you even remembered. The semester was coming to an end for the first time in a while you weren’t too confused about your feelings, so you were content.

You sat down on a table inside, overlooking the small crossing in front of the store. You had your food in front of you and looking at it, it felt like a reward. After a day of studying for your final exams all you really needed was good food and a cold iced tea to be happy. So, enjoying your food, you watched life pass by outside, focused on the lives of passing people until a hand tapped your shoulder.

Jeno had ventured into the small corner store in hopes of a refreshing drink, as well as some treats for the stray cats that lived nearby. He was about to leave when he had spotted you, happily munching on your food, gaze fixed on the outside world. He was tempted to just let you be, content in being on your own, enjoying your food, but he didn’t know when he’d run into you again, if he’d run into you again, and after all, he really wanted to see you again, maybe even on purpose the next time. So, he took a leap of faith, and tapped your shoulder.

Neither of you had any idea that the other one had been re-falling in love over the past weeks. That each of you had been quietly longing to see the other again, just to finally go up to them and talk. Overwhelmed by memories and what-ifs, regrets and possible do-overs you were anticipating to be reunited by fate once again.

So, when you turned around, and realized it was Jeno who had tapped your shoulder, your eyes lit up and a smile spread across your face almost instantly, setting free the familiar butterflies in Jeno’s stomach.

“Hi.” You spoke softly, pleasantly surprised (although by now you really shouldn’t be). Your heart was speeding up due to the grin that formed on his lips and the eye-smile that was welcoming you.

He smiled back, ”Hello.”

thank you for reading til the end! i hope you enjoyed it and have a nice day !!! ♡

this piece was written by @yourstruleejn so please don’t post on any other platforms or translate into any other languages! thank u !!!

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fairy-writes · 2 years ago

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LETTERS WRITTEN IN LOVE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Viktor x Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre(s): Fluff to angst, no happy ending

Notes: I was listening to the Lullaby of Resembool and Trisha’s Lullaby from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood while writing this, and that’ll give you an idea of how this is gonna go

Use of Y/N and takes place throughout the series of Arcane, also long distance relationship :)

Italics: you

Bold and italicized text: Viktor

__________________________________________________________________________

The letter arrived on a Tuesday.

You arrived at your apartment building, and your landlord waved you down from where he was talking to another tenant.

“You have another letter from Piltover. I recognized the stationery!” He said and handed you a crisp envelope with your name written on it in messy cursive. Only after years of knowing Viktor were you able to read his sloppy handwriting, even if he did try and make it better for you. You grinned, thanked the landlord, and tucked the letter under your arm.

Arriving in your apartment, you hurriedly set your groceries bags down and sat at your little dining table. You took a second just to trace your name in Viktor’s handwriting. He always wrote it with such care, but there was still his trademark messy loops and whorls and the occasional smeared letter where his hand had smudged the ink.

After another moment of admiring his handwriting, you finally turned it over and broke the wax seal. The letter was dated back a month ago. You smiled fondly at what he had written. It was short and sweet. He never really did elaborate in his letters. It was a byproduct of being an engineer—an inventor. Your smile widened when you saw the small heart doodled at the end of the letter.

Dearest Y/N,

I received your latest letter. How is your lecture series going? I know Noxus isn’t the best place to be giving lessons on politics, but I know you’ll do fantastic. You always do.

Everything is going well in Piltover. I attended the hearing of a young man named Jayce from the house of Talis. I heard he is trying to combine magic with science. It sounds like it could work. I’ve read his notes, and it should be possible in theory. So I’ve decided to talk to him about it. Maybe we could revolutionize how we see magic in Piltover. Piltover is called the City of Progress, after all.

Don’t tell Heimerdinger. He’d have my head if he found out I stole Jayce’s notes.

With love,

Viktor

You had to grin, cheeks hurting from the action. He was so excited about magic, even if he never verbalized it. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was a bit of a nerd about it. But, it was one of the things you loved about him.

Standing, you went to your writing desk, took up your pen and some paper, and after dating the letter, you began to write.

Viktor,

My lecture series is going well enough. Unfortunately, Noxus is much more interested in how my lessons can be turned into weapons than how it actually helps with negotiations. But they want me to stay longer, so I guess that’s a good sign. Maybe after I’m done, we can finally renovate the house and make it more accessible for you.

Please be careful with this Jayce Talis fellow. I know you love magic, but I don’t want you getting hurt.

I love you,

Y/N

The following letter came quicker than the last. Perhaps two weeks later as opposed to two or three months. There were strange stains on the parchment. They looked reddish brown. Ink maybe? Surely it wouldn’t be blood. He would have told you if his condition was worsening, right?

My love,

We have succeeded. Jayce and I have managed to combine magic with science to create Hextech. It’s magnificent. It’s revolutionized how we see things here. Letters can be sent quicker, so I hope to send more soon.

I can’t say much. So much still has to be done. But know I love you and hope to come to visit soon.

I miss you,

Viktor

You reread the letter before you went to bed and turned to your bedside table when you went to turn out the lights. A picture sat on the table, framed in mahogany and gold. It had been an expensive gift from Heimerdinger when you and Viktor had first gotten together.

It framed a picture of the two of you, with you pressing a gentle kiss to Viktor’s cheek. He had won an award in an inventors competition and held his trophy in his free hand. His other was wrapped around your waist. His crutch was nowhere to be seen. The photographer was holding it. You had your arms around his waist, holding him up.

You got out of bed, getting a piece of parchment and a book along with your pen in order to write a letter back in order to deliver it tomorrow.

Dearest Viktor,

Congratulations, love! I knew you could do it! You’ll have to introduce me to Jayce sometime. From what I can tell, he sounds like a good match for you. As always, please be safe. I’ll try and book the next soonest ticket to Piltover as soon as I get a break. It should be soon.

With much love,

Y/N

You should’ve known something was wrong when you received a thicker-than-normal letter. It was heavier than usual as well. There was an odd shape at the bottom of the envelope.

With a frown, you ascended the stairs to your apartment and sat at your kitchen table.

Tearing open the letter, you were faced with neat, unfamiliar handwriting.

Y/N,

I don’t know how to tell you this, but he’s gone. Viktor’s gone. Doctors say it was peaceful. In his sleep and all. I know this isn’t how you wanted to get the news. He always refused to tell you how his condition was. But he was getting worse.

We tried everything, but nothing was working. The Hexcore almost killed him, and after that, it was all downhill. I tried to get him to tell you, but he always told me not to worry you. Mel offered to fly him to Noxus so he could say goodbye, but he declined. He said he loved you too much to see you upset. I found a letter when getting his final affairs in order. It was to be given to you if this should happen. I enclosed it in my letter.

The funeral will be scheduled for whenever you can come to Piltover.

I’m sorry.

Let me know if I can do anything for you.

I’ll see you soon.

Jayce Talis

Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto the paper. Your chest hurt, lungs spasming as they struggled to pass oxygen through your body. It felt as if the world had fallen out from underneath you.

Viktor was gone.

How could you have been so stupid not to see he was getting worse?

The messier than normal handwriting.

The odd brownish-red specks.

The crumpled-up paper as if he had been clutching it while he coughed.

You hurriedly tore at the letter that had Viktor’s handwriting on it, not caring about preserving the wax seal.

My dearest love,

I’m sorry you have to receive this letter. I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to see you in person. If Jayce has done his job as he promised he will, he will have delivered this letter and its contents to you as soon as I have passed.

I will be long gone by the time you have read this. Don’t feel sorry for me. I have led a good and full life. I have had the amazing opportunity to have loved you and to be loved by you in return.

Please don’t shut yourself away. Go out and find someone who will make your life as extraordinary as you have made mine.

I love you,

Viktor

You turned the envelope over and dumped the contents into your hand. Only for a sob to be ripped from your chest.

It was a ring.

#viktor #viktor arcane #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane league of legends #league of legends #viktor league of legends #fairy writes

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landinoandco · 3 years ago

Text

|Shutter Speed|

Chapter three : A hunger for comfort and affection

{Lando Norris x reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: a hint to mature themes but only of you squint

Word count: 2.5 k

A/n: Here is chapter three of Shutter Speed, like last chapter if you would like to be added in the taglist drop me a message or comment :) enjoy

Previous chapters: Chapter one, Chapter two

“Oh Maisie.” Georgie cried, “It was the most embarrassed I think I’ve been in my entire life.” She took a long sip of her wine as she slouched into the sofa, the tv playing the medal ceremony of the England vs Italy game - Italy taking the victory.

Maisie wrapped her arm around Georgie’s shoulders, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” She said softly.

“Not that bad.” Georgie screeched, her wine splashing slightly over Maisie’s legs. Hastily, Georgie tried to wipe it off, Maisie chuckled and pushed her hands away. “What I mean to say is, I’m sure Lando didn’t think anything of it.” Maisie corrected herself, shaking her head at Georgie’s apologetic glance.

“Maisie, I stood there like a fish.” She imitated a fish opening and closing its mouth.

“Take me through what happened again-”

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for McLaren. As it turns out, you and I are about to attend the same meeting.”

Georgie stopped in her tracks, “You mean to say, we are now colleagues.”

Lando’s face dulled and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I suppose we are. Yes.” The pair stood awkwardly, Lando’s hand placed behind his neck looking up at the sky whilst Georgie had found something very interesting on the floor.

“Well I suppose I should-” Lando started as Georgie braved to look up.

“Yes, yeah, wouldn’t want to be late” She forced a chuckle, going to walk forward when they remembered - they were heading in the same direction.

Maisie cringed as her best friend recounted the story. “So what happened after that?”

“That’s when I bumped into you…”

Lando had given up trying to make small talk about 5 minutes ago - whatever he thought was there was now gone; for some reason he just couldn’t break the awkward air that seemed to be stuck to them. He looked over to her, face furiously red and her expression hardened. He swung his arms by his side and kissed his teeth - she made no reaction. Georgie was trapped in a battle of her own thoughts, she was sure there was a connection between the two of them; something she had wanted to act on but now… She looked behind her, in hopes of finding it strewn on the ground.

“There you are, Georgie.” A voice called out, immediately the girl’s face snapped up and she seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Hurt flashed Lando’s face but she didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her words trailed off as she motioned towards Lando.

“Maisie, meet Lando - he drives for McLaren.” Georgie introduced Lando, stepping closer to him. Lando raised his hand up in acknowledgement, smiling warmly at Maisie. “Lando, meet Maisie - she’s my business partner.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Maisie said, opening up her arms to go to hug him. Lando accepted, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Maisie. Once she had returned to where she was standing before, she said: “Suppose it won’t be the last time we see you either.” She winked at Georgie.

Maisie clicked her fingers, “Oh yes, I remember now. So that’s why it felt so awkward walking up to you.” Maisie set her wine down and moved to face Georgie, a pained expression still painted onto her face. “Did you at least get his number?”

“As a matter of fact-”

Max Fewtrell looked at his watch for the fifth time in the space of 30 seconds. They were going to be late for the football match. He shook his head, scoffing at the irony of Lando priding himself in his punctuality. It wasn’t until he looked up that he realised Lando was only a few feet away from him, ambling slowly and staring at something in his hands. “Lando, mate. We’re going to be late” Max called out, however this wasn’t enough to break Lando out of his trance.

Storming up to him, it was only when Max was about to poke him that Max stopped and stared as well. In Lando’s hand appeared to be a business card.

“Why have you got a-” Max squinted at the cursive name at the top. “The little moments- what-” Confused was one word to describe how Max was feeling, so much so he almost forgot why he was so urgent for them to leave.

“I - uh - I met a girl.” Lando stammered, still staring at the card, his forehead furrowed.

“And that’s why you have a business card? Lando, football!” Max prompted, rolling his eyes and made to move forward when Lando added: “I think this was her trying to give me her number.”

Max turned back to face Lando, his face lit up, “What?” He chortled. Whatever trance Lando was in, he seemed to snap out of it and pocketed the card.

“You’re right, let’s get going.” Lando walked past Max, who was standing staring after Lando, completely dumbfounded.

“But - what!” Max followed hurriedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was she pretty?”

“Very.” Lando said.

“You gave him your business card?” Maisie doubled over in laughter, Georgie stared at her unamused.

“Well, if it wasn’t for you I would have given it to him like a normal person but you insisted on dragging me out of the Marquee.” Georgie quipped sharply.

“In my defence, we were going to be late for the-”

The pair looked at Georgie’s phone as it lit up and began to shriek the theme tune of ‘Downton Abbey.’ After Maisie’s incredulous look, Georgie went to pick it up, muttering under her breath: “I can’t work out how to change it back - don’t give me that look.”

The number wasn’t one she recognised, she picked up anyway, scrunching up her face. “Hello.”

“Hi.” A breathless voice replied, Georgie recognised the voice but she couldn’t quite place who. She must have stayed silent for longer than she intended because the caller added, “It’s Lando. Lando Norris.”

“Lando? Hey.” She stood up, her voice instantly softening. “How are you?” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I called-” Lando stuttered apologetically, Georgie felt her heart sink. She repeated herself, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Are you alright?”

“I - no. I just - I needed to - There was an incident and I’m on my own but-” Georgie cut him off, “Lando, where are you.” Her tone was now serious, Maise mouthed ‘what’s wrong.’ She replied by holding up her finger as if to indicate ‘one minute.’

“I’m at my house.” He replied simply, he sounded tired and in shock.

“Do you want me to come over?” Georgie asked, her heart in her throat - it was only a moment ago he apologised for calling her. Maisie stood up, throwing her hands in the air, mouthing: “what are you doing?” There was another beat of silence, she could hear his breathing, he was trying to steady it.

“Yes. Please. I’ll text you the address.” He swallowed thickly, just like Georgie, he wasn’t sure what made him call her or - even more - say yes to her coming over. It was like there was someone speaking for him, controlling all of his actions concerning her. He didn’t understand it. Lando had only learnt her name that afternoon but it felt like he had known her for months - their little coffee shop sighting felt like years ago.

After he hung up, he ran his hands through his hair. His heart was still beating as though he was about to race. He had already called Charlotte and explained everything that had just gone down after the match, he had told her that he wasn’t alone and that he had good company. Technically he wasn’t lying because good company was about to arrive. Lando wasn’t sure how long he sat in that position for, the silence of his house felt deafening until the doorbell broke his thoughts. He opened it to an anxious looking Georgie, holding the unopened bottle that her and Maisie were about to start on. “I brought us a bottle.” Lando cracked a smile, opening the door wider so she could come through.

“I’m not normally allowed but I think Jon will let me off.” He muttered, closing the door behind her. Before he could say another word, she had wrapped her arms around his neck - “You looked like you needed a hug.” He could just about make out. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into him. In that moment of vulnerability he told her what had happened at Wembley and she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face: “You’re definitely in need of that drink then.”

It was some time later and they were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa in his living room, bottles of different sorts of wine sat empty on the glass table and Georgie was having to hold onto his shoulder to stop herself from falling over. Lando had just recounted a rather funny story - in hindsight it was probably only funny because of the amount of alcohol that they had consumed. Georgie had gotten drunk before, she was the type of drunk that never stopped talking but with Lando, all she wanted was to be close to him; as demonstrated by her holding onto his shoulder as soon as he said anything remotely funny, leaning across his body to reach for the wine. What she wasn’t aware of was the effect this was then having on Lando. He was completely in awe of Georgie, her ability to come in and sweep him off of his feet - he felt as though he could completely relax in her presence, as though nothing else mattered when she was there. He craved the warmth she was offering him, she wasn’t like all of the other girls Jon scolded him for meeting. Georgie was just as nervous and naive as he was - they both loved and craved the idea of comfort and affection from another human that wasn’t platonic but neither of them had any clue how. Perhaps it was more the fact that neither of them had met anyone yet that silently understood the troubles and tribulations that had led them to his point.

They were at peace with their thoughts, the alcohol fogging any sort of rationality. Lando looked over at Georgie, a content and easy smile sat effortlessly on her lips and a tinge of pink flushed on her cheeks. He shuffled closer to her so their shoulders were pressed against each other, “I’m glad I called you.” It was almost like the words shocked him as they came out of his mouth, as though he was airing his thoughts for the first time. The smile on her face only grew, Georgie moved her face closer to his so she could see every freckle and dimple and blemish. It was the first time she realised how beautiful he was - from the way his curls fell lopsided onto his forehead to his constant licking of his lips in an attempt not to shy away. She brought her thumb to his face, brushing it delicately.

“Eyelash.” She explained, his gaze transfixed on hers, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and blew the eyelash away. “Did you make a wish?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I did.” Lando answered, his hand still wrapped around her wrist, his touch burning Georgie’s skin. He inched his face closer to hers, his breath fanning across her face. She braved a look at his lips, tearing away from the battle they had once again found themselves in. “What did you wish for?” She asked, her lips brushing his.

“If I told you - ” He began, releasing her wrist from his touch and instead tucking a loose strand of her back behind her ear. “It wouldn’t come true.”

Their lips still hadn’t touched, millimeters separated them, their noses brushing as though they were the first to give in. It was like they were daring each other to make the first move, who was going to be the first one to break. Every nerve in Georgie’s body was telling her to close the distance - it felt right. It would certainly make up for that afternoon’s display. She knew that he had no obligations to kiss her and she knew that the hand now resting on her cheek was inviting her - almost taunting her.

“Lando-” She pulled her head away, his hand falling limply to his side. Georgie squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself instantly.

“I know.” He whispered, looking down at the floor.

There were many reasons why Georgie pulled away. The main fear that both of them had mutually agreed on was that if she had closed the distance and if she had kissed him - all self control on either side was gone and there was no stopping the inevitability of all mature relationships. It was something that - whilst both were desperate for - now wasn’t the time and it would lead to a series of unfortunate events neither of them wanted.

“It’s getting late.” Lando grumbled, getting up from the floor. He wasn’t mad at Georgie because he knew it was the right thing - he felt it himself but he was also aware of the large part of him that wanted to indulge, to forget about any consequences and enjoy the raw connection that they had found.

“Yes, you’re right.” Georgie felt a pang of guilt in her chest, as he refused to meet her eye. She stood there frozen, unsure where to go or what to do. “I’ll go call an uber.” She muttered, excusing herself.

“Wait-” Lando called out to her, “Stay.”

Georgie looked at him, confusion etched on her face. Lando took a step towards her, his jaw tightened. He knew come morning he was probably going to regret what he was about to do, it was like he was teasing himself - setting himself up for another heartbreak. But this time it had to be different. It had to be.

“Please, I don’t think I want to be alone.” It was raw emotion talking and a new side to Lando that Georgie didn’t think she would ever see. She knew come morning she was going to regret what she was about to say, it was like she was leading herself down a hole that in the end she wasn’t going to be able to get out of.

“Ok.” She gave a half smile and reached for Lando’s hand.

That night they stayed in each other's arms. Relishing in the comfort they gave to one another, both wishing that tomorrow would never come.

Taglist:

@mjuikoli @httplayer @phatyak

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auroracalisto · 3 years ago

Text

white lilies

summary: the reason why elijah’s favorite flower are white lilies.

pairing: elijah x gn!reader

word count: 1k words

warnings: major character death, suicidal thoughts, long but there is little dialogue in this lmao, talks of grief

a/n: white lilies are usually given to someone after they have lost someone (traditionally in american funerals). they are also given at a wedding, to signify purity and rebirth.

Change.

It’s never been something that came easy to anyone. For Elijah, it was something that came far too often, and at times, it came way too soon. Nevertheless, he persisted and accepted the newness of it all—after being daggered way too many times, he started to not care.

If Klaus needed something, he would be there. How many times did he stay in that damned coffin because he disagreed with Klaus?

The number was one that he hated to hear.

Change presented itself in far too many ways. It was almost characteristic of the universe to continue to create chaos in the Mikaelson’s life. People came and died, some stayed for a while and then left, and then some appeared and disappeared just as soon as they presented themselves to Elijah.

It was maddening.

At one point, had Elijah avoided being daggered by his dear brother, he would have been tempted to end his own life.

He was tired of it. The continuity of a life that was going nowhere.

And then, he met you.

A change that was unwelcome, at first. You showed up in a moment of vulnerability for the Original. Kol had just been killed by Silas. Elijah was once again angry with the universe, and wished for nothing more than the sweet release of death.

You were there in a time where he could have cared less what happened around him. And yet, you gave him a reason to care for something, even if it was little.

The moment you realized that Elijah had had a major loss, you bought him white lilies. They were potted in a handcrafted flower pot that was as plain as plain could get—just white and black, with dimples ingrained across the middle of it. On the bottom was the signature of the local potterer you had bought it from. A small KL in cursive crested right beside of a small chip in the bottom of the pot. But for you, the chip gave the pot some character. A part of you hoped that Elijah would think that as well.

Elijah accepted the gift, but didn’t hide the fact that he thought it was ridiculous.

“Why would you give me flowers?” he had asked, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Had he been able to without upsetting you, he would have made sure that you seen.

You just smiled in return. “To keep you busy. Besides, they’re pretty. Maybe they’ll bring you some kind of joy, you know?”

“Flowers. Joy. Yes, [Your name], it makes perfect sense.”

Nevertheless, he took care of it. He tended to the plant and had every intention of keeping it alive. Lilies weren’t his favorite, but it had come from you. And as much as he originally hated to say it, he appreciated the fact that someone bought him such a personal gift.

Not one person had offered their condolences like you had.

At that point, he had started to open up to you.

It started out small. He would send you a text message here and there, asking for your opinion on something, or just texting you a picture of the plant so you could see how the lilies were doing.

[3:33 PM] Elijah

[1 Image Attached]

I thought you would like to see this.

[3:35 PM] You

they look great, elijah :)

[6:49 PM] Elijah

If I buy my plant a new type of food, would it be alright? Do I have to buy a specific kind or can it be anything?

[6:51 PM] You

i wish i knew the answer

you could try going to a nursery or somewhere and just ask

i always buy the same thing. i’m sure just a flower plant food brand would be fine

Then, he asked you out for coffee.

[11:37 AM] Elijah

It’s abhorring that I am doing this over text message.

However, I wanted to see if you would like to get a coffee sometime.

[11:38 AM] You

i would love to! when and where?

[11:40 AM] Elijah

There is a coffee shop on Main Street that Rebekah swears by. Perhaps we can go there?

[11:41 AM] You

yes!! what time? day?

[11:42 AM] Elijah

Tomorrow? Say ten in the morning? I have to help Klaus with something so I would like to avoid the house as much as possible.

[11:43 AM] You

i will be there!

This unwelcome change quickly became a change that he wanted to see thrive.

Like the lilies, he wanted your relationship to grow and prosper in times of good and bad. He wanted to be unstoppable by your side—a change that he most definitely would welcome, had it become available to him.

But then, something happened. A change that he knew would eventually occur—despite that, he didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

It was the type of incident that made the vampire sick to his stomach. It would have made his heart stop, had it the ability to beat once more. You had died, by the hand of Klaus’ enemy nonetheless.

The news got to him before your body had even been recovered.

Anger ravaged his entire being.

He had cursed Klaus for ever being born, and then shouted at the moon long enough that his throat was raw and his voice was hoarse. Everything was crashing around him, and the weight that you had lifted off of his shoulders was quickly returning.

It was almost as if the universe was mocking him for getting comfortable with this change. As soon as it was given to him, it was promptly taken away.

Elijah has always hated change. It was something he knew he could never control. He could accept that, at times. Other times, like when he remembered your alluring self, he wished that the universe would end his life right then and there. Though the two of you had a short lived “relationship,” he felt more for you than he had ever for anything in his entire life.

For everything that Elijah had been through, two things were certain.

Elijah hated change. But now, Elijah’s favorite flower were white lilies.

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the-wrong-damn-way · 4 years ago

Text

When Words Fail

In which the Maitlands notice you are refusing to talk to them as of late

When I tell y’all this is one of my favorite pieces to reread when I need to c r y

MAITLANDS > BEETLEJUICE (sorry not sorry)

Also, if you are Adam or Barbara Maitlands, please contact me. I have some adoption papers for you to sign.

The Maitlands were confused.

When you and your younger sister Lydia Deetz discovered that the house was haunted by two friendly ghosts, you two were ecstatic. It was something your mother would’ve loved to see, and Adam and Barbara Maitland just gave off this warm and friendly vibe that was welcoming and infectious. Whereas Lydia saw them as an opportunity to get the Deetz family back to New York, you saw the Maitlands as they were: a couple who were kind, caring, middle-class, suburban, and white. They were just a regular couple, minus the whole being dead thing.

The Maitlands, in your opinion, were the most suitable people to be parents, and during the whole Beetlejuice incident, your bond with them increased. They kept you safe from the demon’s antics, making sure no harm befell you as his anger festered into rage when your little sister jumped into a portal to the Netherworld. They refused to allow you to offer yourself in Lydia’s place (which concerned you to the extreme, she was your little sister and it was your sole duty to keep her from harm), instead keeping you hidden from his sight.

Over the course of the next few months after the fake marriage and the murder of Beetlejuice, your bond with the Maitlands undeniably grew stronger. On nights you were stressed out, you found yourself creeping into the attic to have calming conversations with the ghosts. On the days you were upset with your father or Delia, sometimes even Lydia, you dismissed yourself from your current activity to join Adam in a game of checkers or Barbara with a classic game of Go Fish. When dinner conversations went haywire, you’d make up an excuse to leave the table and headed to the attic to read a random book with the Maitlands (Adam would read to you and Barbara would let you rest your head on her legs as she ran her fingers soothingly through your hair).

And of course, if you didn’t get enough to eat during dinner, Barbara and Adam would sneak along with you into the kitchen for midnight snacks that would surely stuff you so that you wouldn’t go hungry.

But for the last two weeks, the Maitlands noticed your appearance in their part of the house slowly disappearing. On a scheduled game night, you didn’t show up. You apologized the next morning and kept the chit-chat to a minimum. Not wanting to seem creepy and intrude on your privacy, the deceased couple tried their best to stay out of your business, but always struck up a conversation with you whenever they could. They missed having your normal long talks about whatever came to mind, the subject always switching just to keep the three of you talking.

It took them awhile, but Adam was the first to finally catch on to what you were doing. He suggested the idea of you avoiding them on purpose to Barbara, and her eyes widened. She thought you were comfortable with Adam and herself, that you were just avoiding conversation because you couldn’t seem to hold onto one in the recent days. Barbara never took into consideration that you might’ve been avoiding them purposefully and the thought struck right through her heart.

Just to see if their little theory was true, the Maitlands took their seats at the dinner table one night, after being offered to join the Deetz for a family dinner by Lydia. The deceased couple chatted quietly with the Deetzes, short bursts of laughter and chuckles here and there throughout the whole dinner. The whole time, though, Barbara noticed that your chair remained empty.

“Where’s Y/N?” the blonde ghost asked the living family. Everything went quiet, and Barbara believed she was onto something.

“They haven't been leaving their room recently,” Lydia broke the uncomfortable silence with her answer. She stabbed the spaghetti that was on her plate with her fork, twirling it in her hand mindlessly. “If they didn’t answer their phone when I texted them, I would’ve thought them to be dead.”

“Lydia!” Both Charles and Delia scolded the gothy teenager. She sat up straight and shrugged.

“It’s not like I’m wrong!” Lydia argued, turning to face her father and step-mother.

Before they could witness the argument between the adults and their child, Adam and Barbara quietly excused themselves from the dinner table. They marched silently up the stairs to the attic, shutting the door behind them softly. Immediately, the two began pacing.

So, yes, the Maitlands had never been more confused in their afterlives.

And yes, having a bio-exorcist tormenting them and then making sexual innuendos was something they were still confused about, but the burning question of why you would be avoiding them was top of their list.

“Did we do something wrong?” Adam voiced the idea. Barbara stopped her pacing, looking up to meet her husband’s gaze.

“They would tell us if we did something,” Barbara countered. Slowly, though, the dark thought wormed itself into her head. She took a hesitant step towards Adam. “They would, right?”

Adam closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his. “Of course they would, honey. I’m just spitballing ideas here.” He rubbed his thumbs over the back of Barbara’s hands as a soothing gesture, and the blonde nodded.

“You’re right,” she mumbled. “Maybe they are just-”

A soft thump from the room underneath the attic was heard, and the Maitlands jumped, breaking their hold on each other. Both of their eyes widened as they recalled that your room was under their space, and a dark thought struck them both. After all, if Lydia was suicidal once, who was to say you weren’t. Adam and Barbara scrambled towards the attic door, practically ripping it off of its hinges as they hurried down the stairs.

When they got to your room, they didn’t know what they were expecting to find. They definitely didn’t expect to find you hunched over your desk, a clenched fist on the top of the wooden piece of furniture. You had earbuds in, blasting music to muffle all outside noises, and a tear rolled down your cheek before landing on the piece of sketch paper you were currently drawing on. Your eyes were puffy from crying, and the small trash can near the side of the desk was practically filled to the brim with dirty tissues and crumpled up pieces of paper. Barbara covered her mouth with a hand, suddenly feeling the urge to cry.

Here you were, vulnerable to the world, and the Maitlands never knew.

Before Adam could protest about invading your personal space, Barbara walked over to where you were sitting and knelt beside you. She placed a cold hand on your shoulder and you jumped, moving yourself away from the hand and ripping the earbuds out of your ears. Your eyes were blurry from crying and you wiped away the tears with the back of your hands, trying to stop yourself from letting out muffled hiccups. However, your body didn’t comply, and a new stream of tears were flowing down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized through sobs, wrapping your arms around your torso. Adam entered the room as Barbara walked over to you and embraced you into a loving hug, and you broke down once again. Another ‘I’m sorry’ left your sore throat as you wrapped your arms around Barbara, holding onto the female specter as much as you could. She shushed your apologies, instead rubbing her a hand in gentle circles on your back, hoping to calm you down.

God, you thought. This is embarrassing. You didn’t expect anyone to actually come check up on you, and having the Maitlands do it made you even more emotional. You didn’t remember how long you’ve been avoiding your favorite deceased couple. The only thing you could recall was the one-year anniversary of your mother’s death, and things only seemed to go downhill.

Once your sobs had turned to occasional sniffles, Barbara guided you over to your bed, and the two of you took a seat on the side. Adam sat on the other side of you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your body, leaning his head on top of yours, and Barbara placed her hand overtop of yours.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled once more.

“What for, kiddo?” Adam asked you.

“For avoiding you guys,” you answered. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. It just sort of happened.” You pulled away from Adam and stared at the floor. “I’ve been trying to come out and talk to you guys, but I guess you just remind me so much of my mother. Her one-year anniversary passed a while ago and I guess I fell into a pit without meaning too. I’m sorry-”

Barbara turned so that she was facing you and placed a finger on your lips. “Slow down, Y/N. You don’t need to tell us anymore if you don’t want to.” She removed her finger and placed her hand on your cheek, rubbing her thumb in a circular motion. “Just know that Adam and I will always be here for you, hun, okay?” You nodded, closing your eyes as the blonde brushed away a few stray tears.

“I, uh, have something for you guys.” You stood up from the bed and grabbed your sketchbook from the desk, flicking through some of the pages until you landed on the one you wanted to present to the Maitlands. You sat back down and both of them leaned over your shoulder with curiosity, and you were greeted with gasps.

You don’t recall when you drew the sketch, but it was your favorite one that was based off of a photo that Lydia had sent you one night. Barbara and Adam sat on both ends of the couch, with you stretched across it in the middle. You were asleep, as was Adam with his reading glasses practically dangling off of his nose, and Barbara was laughing, running her fingers through your hair as Lydia took the picture. Underneath it in cursive you had written a Disney quote that stuck in your mind.

Ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind. Or forgotten.

Two pairs of arms wrapped around you tightly, and you jumped from the unexpected contact.

“Y/N,” Barbara cooed, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “That’s absolutely adorable!”

“We definitely are a family, kiddo.” He looked at the sketch once again, and pointed out the glasses on his face. “Also, you’re telling me I looked like that when I sleep?” You and Barbara chuckled, and you nudged him with your shoulder.

“I’m surprised I was able to sleep with how loud you snore,” you teased, and Adam scoffed, pushing you gently into Barbara. The laughter and chuckling eventually died down, and you all laid back on your bed, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you had decorated your ceiling with. There was a comfortable silence, and you smiled.

“Hey guys?” The Maitlands hummed, letting you know that they were listening. “Thank you for being there for me.” Adam grabbed one of your hands, Barbara doing the same, and both of them gave you a gentle squeeze.

“Of course, Y/N.”

“Anything for you, kiddo. You should know this by now.”

“I love you guys,” you murmured quietly. And with the way they each squeezed your hand, you took it that they heard you.

“We love you too, kiddo. We love you too.”

#beetlejuice #adam maitland #lydia deetz #barbara maitland #beetlejuice the musical #the maitlands #beetlejuice fanfic #the maitlands x reader #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice broadway #bjtmtmtm #bjtm

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starshiningsirius · 4 years ago

Text

Prunelle de mes yeux (Yandere Rook x Reader)

When I heard the love of my life liked poetry, 😍😳🤤.

"Oh Mon cheri,

You are the one I wish to strike by my arrow of love.

Once you were in my sight,

I became blinded by your radiance and beauty.

I want to sing my love for you to the heavens above,

So that you could hear me.

Dearest love you are the one for me,

You truly are the prunelle de mes yeux.

So, won't you please accept these gifts from me?"

As the poem came to an end her face was redder than the apple mentioned in the text. The words were sweet and heartfelt but what was unnerving was the gifts had been placed in a basket.

Quite a few of her favorite things were placed in the basket, from her favorite flowers in a bouquet, to a few of her favorite snacks. Not only that but the admirer asked to meet within the forest of Pomeifore.

So does that mean her admirer is really handsome? Only good looking people get assigned to that dorm. It's far better than having to go to Savanaclaw at least.

She's still weary about the situation at hand though, on one hand her admirer knows a bit too much about her and on the other hand it would be rude to not show up considering they did all of this. Furthermore she really was curious about who this person was. It was already a given how eloquent they were to write ths poem in cursive none the less.

A little bit of doubt sprung up in her.

"Pomeifore, how can anyone so beautiful from that dorm possibly fall for someone like me?" She voiced aloud to the slight breeze she felt.

She wonders if her admirer could see her love for the gift she was given. How unaware she was that he did see all of it a smile gracing his lips.

"Aw ma chérie, I'm flattered to hear you think I'm beautiful. Truly such an honor that is from a graceful mademoiselle as yourself. Not even the heavens above will stop me from professing my love and affection for you.'

A figure stepped from behind one of the old trees in the area surrounding Ramshackle elated to have heard her reaction to his gift. A good hunter always knew to conceal their presence from their prey.

He would have loved to hear her reaction in person, alas that isn't how he planned it though. He had to set a trap for her in order to confine her from all others.

But in due time it wouldn't be long before his prize for being so patient would arrive.

. . .

The plan was to meet as soon as it was near sunset at around dinner time as the note instructed. She wondered if her admirer had planned to eat with her in beautiful forest scenery that surrounded her. She decided to go in the end cause her conscience wouldn't let her sleep to know she didn't thank the person who went through such efforts to confess.

More and more steps she traveled deeper into the eastern forest of Pomeifore hearing few birds chirp occassionally.

'Head straight from the right side of Pomeifore castle where you'll find a forest beyond the small tower, until you come up to a flat rock. Then you'll find a sign from me there.' Simple instructions.

She saw what she believed to be the rock mentioned and stood there for a moment.

"I wonder if your already here?"

She noticed a paper sticking up from a tree settled behind the rock taped there. It was folded in half and had four words scribbled on the front.

"Prunelle de mes yeux." Was what it said.

'That same phrase.'

She opened it to find even more words scribbled inside.

"You've arrived and have yet to see me, Mon chèri.

I'm sure you're eagerly awaiting my presence, as am I with my overwhelming desire to introduce myself to your wonderfully bright e/c eyes.

But as eager as we both are all good things come to those who wait, as they say.

How about we play a little game?"

Toward the sea,

You shall go,

West from thee

Is where you'll find me.'

"West?"

She could see light trying to break through the foliage of the trees to the right of her.

"The sun sets in the west. So towards the cliffs."

As she walked past a few of the trees, she couldn't help but anticipate meeting this stranger. After crossing the threshold of forestry, she came to face with a sunset that was beautiful beyond words. She was so mesmerized that she didn't noticed the smile directed toward her.

Most definitely she didn't notice his footsteps, as silent as his true intentions.

"Enjoying the view, mon cheri?"

She jumped with a squeak in which had to pull her closer in fear of her falling.

As she looked back at her savior he found himself gazing into flustered expression, that was cute with a faint innocence and shyness that expertly glowed in Rook's green eyes.

She on the other hand noticed his hat that was about to blow off and fall into the sea. Which made her grab it before it could, slipping one of her arms out of Rook's hold. It definitely took him by surprise to see her act with care toward such an insignificant thing. His hold on her did loosen and she was able to get and face him with a reserved nature then the determination he had just saw.

"Ah, I'm such a clutz, here I wouldn't want you to lose such an important item just because you saved me."

"I'm flattered mon amour, but your far more important than some silly hat. Risking your life for something like that makes that beautiful visage shine even brighter." His bright smile definitely had her heart beating at a rabbit's pace not only that but his words weren't something you would hear from any normal student of Night Raven College.

The tone definitely matched the letters she had been sent.

"Your the person who wrote those letters."

"Dearest, prunelle de mes yeux you are indeed correct. Rook Hunt, a pleasure it is to finally meet you up close after seeing you afar." Even though she should've she didn't think too much about the last part of his statement only one phrase in particular.

"What does that mean, it is French right? You said that in your first letter, I recognize the common phrases of love but this one is more complex." As she finished her question she felt as though his happiness visibly increased.

He came a bit closer cupping her cheeks in his gloved ones, a subtle smile but with evergreen eyes that hid so much behind him.

"It means apple of my eye, I'm so glad you remembered that part." He was so close you could definitely see why his soul was chosen to be apart of Pomeifore.

Before she could take a second to admire him longer he had took her hand leading her about a few yards from where they were currently. When he moved to the side there sat a table, two chairs and plates, silverware, an appetizer and a small macaroon tower. Not to mention the small lit candle out of three in between, it was strange since the sunset provided a enough light already.

"Shall we commence our date then? How about we get to know you more personally and me the same?"

. . .

The date was enjoyable to say the least for both parties. She enjoyed his personality and theatrics while he enjoyed her company and entire being sitting across from him, listening to every word she said.

Even after the food was eaten and they stayed in each other's company. It was dark now and Rook had lit two more candles with his pen to add some extra light as he urged her to continue on with her story. The flicker flame kind of casted an eerie shadow over her companion.

Overtime she started to feel insanely sleepy. Yawning in the middle of yet another of their conversations. She apologized for the umpteenth time, as she believed it was because of her herself being tired. It was still rude of course though.

He found it cute, smirking with hidden intent as his plan was working. He was currently teaching her words in French upon asking for more terms he could teach her.

"It's okay, mon amour. You seem sleepy no? How about we get you home?"

The nickname still didn't sit in her mind in complacency causing her to blush. He had already gotten up from his place bringing along the candelabra closer to her face to extend a hand to her.

As soon as she took his hand getting up however she could her eyes automatically closing, and body shutting down. Before she could fully fall into slumber her legs were swept up into the arms of her captor who had placed the candelabra a far enough distance on the table.

Holding her in a bridal fashion Rook examined the unconscious female. As he gently caressed her lips and admired all that was before him in that moment he had her in his arms.

"Words enough aren't able to convey my love to you ma chérie for you are the prunelle de mes yeux after all, and one spell was all it took for me to be able to gain such an astonishing view of your visage." He held her delicately in his arms brushing away some of her hair on her face, gently laying her head on his chest.

"Too curious and naive for your own good, that is why I must take you away so that no one will ever taint that beauty of yours." He says with a calm smile painting his expression as he headed toward Pomeifore.

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #my rook simp hours #twisted wonderland rook #rook hunt #yandere rook hunt

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kissinginkitchens · 4 years ago

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Three: Chasing Waterfalls

a/n: Welcome back!! Another huge thank you for the sweet words and love you have shown to part 2! I'm so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story so far :') Things are starting to get interesting, so I hope you'll stay tuned! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to come chat with me after you have finished reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, drug/alcohol mention

Word Count: 5.3k

catch up on parts one and two

Alani watches the stream of salt descend gracefully into the salt-shaker like a mini waterfall, her mind still replaying the events of the past couple of weeks. It has been fourteen days, 336 hours, and 20,160 minutes since the last time she saw Harry, not that she was counting. The image of him getting smaller in her rearview mirror as she drove away from the recording studio is still fresh in her mind. Two weeks and all she has to show for it is three sentences in her notebook, most of which is material she had already known prior to the interview. Alani supposes that this fact should trouble her more than it does, with her future at Rolling Stone depending on much more than the smoothie preferences of Harry Styles; but all she can dwell on at the moment is the serene image of them standing side by side, pinkies nearly touching, making a wish on the most vibrant rainbow she had ever seen. What does concern her, however, are the events that immediately followed their arrival back at Napua.

“Maybe next time we should do this in a neutral location,” Harry had offered, stepping out of the Range Rover. “Less distractions,”

Alani’s brows shot up at the words, not quite believing that she had heard him right. “Next time?”

“You can’t possibly have gotten everything you needed from that,” he scoffed, leaning against the passenger door. Alani had fully prepared to butter him up in order to extend their time beyond the initial one interview agreement, but she hadn’t expected it to be this easy, especially after his dismissal of her attempted humor and begrudging lunch invitation.

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“Okay, so we’ll do this again,” he shrugged, “No biggie,”

Alani felt a wave of relief, and a twinge of excitement, rush over her at the prospect of securing another interview with Harry. Offering him a grateful smile, she nodded and agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, again, for agreeing to this,”

Harry’s furrowed brow didn’t budge, nor did his set jaw and pouted lips. He simply offered a small bow of his head and a ringed finger through his dark locks.

“Sure. Wouldn’t wanna be the reason you fail,”

“Thanks,” she replied through a forced laugh.

Alani had almost forgotten about the cover she devised to get Harry to agree to the exclusive. A part of her wondered how willing he would have been to participate had he known her true intentions of submitting the final piece to Rolling Stone, but the better part of her judgement knew there was too much at stake to fold her cards now. Besides, Harry had to have known that any work linked to his name would get some sort of public attention, regardless of the original intentions. At least, that was what Alani planned to say if things went south.

“So you can just... text me, I guess,” she proposed cautiously. “When you’re free?”

“Will do,” Harry nodded. “But I think that requires us to exchange phone numbers first,”

“Right,”

Alani pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and opened the contacts app before holding it out to Harry. Carefully, he punched his digits and handed it back, smirking when he was greeted by the image of irresistible watery eyes and floppy ears beneath the time.

“Cute dog,” he remarked while Alani finished typing her own number into his phone.

A soft smile spread across her lips as the image of her furry companion drifted into her mind.

“Oh, thanks. His name’s Freddie,”

“D’you name all your belongings after 70s rock stars?” Harry teased, flashing a dimpled grin.

“As a matter of fact,” Alani played along. “I’m about to go take a sip from Mick Jagger in my car,”

Immediately, Alani regretted her choice of words, though the bright ringing of Harry’s laughter soothed some of the embarrassment.

She winced, nose scrunched. “I guess there’s no taking that one back, huh?”

“Not a chance,”

Clutching her bag closer and sliding her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, Alani took a step back and sighed.

“And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Au revoir.”

Two weeks and still radio silence from Harry. Alani had begun to wonder whether she had input her phone number correctly in the first place, or if her penchant for embarrassing herself had ruined all chances of Harry making good on his promises.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want salted fries you’re gonna have to wait for your turn at the salt mound, just like everyone else,” the voice of Alani’s sister breaks through her thoughts. Somewhere between reliving her last interaction with Harry and anticipating their impending reunion, Alani’s hand had drifted slightly off course of the salt shaker, resulting in a rather impressive mountain of salt forming on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Alani retorts, annoyed at the mess she’ll have to clean up.

“Seemed like you were in the zone, or possibly sleepwalking—and you know what they say about disturbing sleepwalkers,” Pua says simply, unaffected by her sister’s irritation. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, and I was right,”

Alani sweeps the salt into a garbage can below, her mind already drifting back to her afternoon with Harry, when her sister speaks up again.

“He hasn’t called yet?”

This catches Alani’s attention, but she only shakes her head dejectedly in response.

“I thought your date went well,” Pua muses, thinking back to the way her sister had practically floated through the house upon her return.

“It wasn’t a date,” Alani corrects firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself, as well.

Pua scoffs, lifting herself to sit on the countertop. “So you made me cover a four hour shift for nothing?”

“It’s strictly professional and he’s busy,” Alani sighs. “That’s just how these things go,”

“Did he let you listen to his new music?” the younger sister asks, eyes widening.

Alani rolls her eyes and resumes twisting the caps back onto the filled salt shakers. “No,”

“Did you ask him why he left One Direction?”

“No,”

“Is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Alani huffs, turning to face her smug little sister. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him what?” a familiar accented voice cuts in behind her.

Alani whips around to face Harry, a familiar dent between his brows and dark sunglasses shielding her from the intensity of his stare.

“Ask my dad if I can go to the..movies—tonight,” Pua chimes in. “With my friends. I have those,”

Harry smirks, lifting his sunglasses up to address her. “S’that so?”

“Yup,” she confirms, popping the “p” and crossing her arms. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Curiosity runs in the family, I see,” he remarks with amusement. “Shoot,”

“Is your phone working?”

“Why don’t you go call dad and ask him about the movies? I’ll cover the register,” Alani interrupts, shooting a glare over her shoulder as her sister saunters into the kitchen with a satisfied grin on her round face.

“Ignore her, she’s fifteen,”

“The most honest age in my experience,” Harry observes with a twinge of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.

Alani pushes any thoughts about Harry, beyond the fact that he’s standing in front of her, to the side and puts on her best customer service voice. “What can I get started for you today?”

“A green smoothie, please,” he says, searching for her eyes that are occupied with the register buttons. “And the rest of your afternoon, if you’re free,”

Alani pauses and allows her gaze to meet his. She senses a hint of apology behind his emerald eyes, a welcome change to the storminess that often clouds them.

“I don’t know,” she starts slowly, despite the fact that every bone in her body is screaming at her to go. “I gotta finish up here,”

“What time are you off?”

Alani mulls his question over, silently deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Ultimately, retribution for her bruised ego is the only reason she can come up with for lying. She knows that it isn’t logical to be upset with him due to the fact that their relationship is strictly professional. Harry owes her nothing; in fact, him agreeing to meet with her the first time was, as she pointed out on several occasions, entirely a favor on his end. Despite this fact, Alani couldn’t help the disappointment she had felt the very next day when he hadn’t even texted his name to make sure that he had the right number. And she can’t help how she feels now, two weeks later, looking into his big, dumb eyes that are begging for her forgiveness. She missed him. Against her better judgment, and for reasons she can’t explain, Alani misses Harry, so she chooses honesty.

“Four,”

“Great,” he perks up, victoriously. “Then I’ll have the green smoothie, and keep ‘em coming,”

“You’re gonna stay here that long?” Alani asks, eyes darting to the 1:11 displayed on her watch.

Harry holds up a teal paperback with cassette tapes stacked on the cover. “Got some reading material to keep me company,”

“Love is a Mix Tape,” she reads the yellow cursive looped at the bottom of the cover aloud with a nod.

“Ever read it?” he questions, flipping through the pages.

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Well then you can borrow it sometime.” Harry says finally, turning on his heel in the direction of a table near the window.

Alani half expects him to leave and come back closer to their allotted time, but he simply sits near the window with the book in front of him and the straw of his drink resting against his pouted bottom lip. Customers come and go, tables are cleared, and the sunlight spills into different corners of the room, but Harry remains perfectly unchanged as if he were a fixture of the room itself. His presence is both comforting and unnerving to Alani, who glides around the room taking orders and serving food. Meanwhile, Harry does his very best to focus on the words in front of him, but the letters jumble together like alphabet soup amidst his wandering thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he follows Alani as she gracefully moves from one table to the next, flashing a warm smile at each guest who enters. He notices the tapping of her pen to whatever Beach Boys song plays over the stereo and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when making change at the register. The more details he stores in his mind, the deeper the sinking feeling burrows into his stomach. It had taken every ounce of willpower and over twenty unsent text messages to stay away, but Harry needed to put space between them for both of their sakes. He didn’t dare flatter himself with the thought of her having feelings for him, but he didn’t mind her company and that hadn’t done him much good these days. Harry knew that eventually he would have to bite the bullet and keep his word, and he decided that a temporary writer’s block was as good a time as any to do so.

“What ever happened to that girl?” Jeff had asked the evening prior, responding to an email from the recording label.

Harry feigned ignorance and continued to doodle something in his notebook, though he knew exactly who his manager was referring to. “What girl?”

“Dark hair, pretty, made you blush like a 12 year old,”

“I did not,'' Harry defended, scribbling a little more harshly. “‘S nothing. Was just helpin’ her out,”

Jeff snorted with an accusational brow raised.

“How romantic,”

“Jesus, not like that!”

“All I’m saying,” Jeff conceded. “Is that you seem a little uptight these days, and the music shows,”

Harry pondered this for a minute, his pen stilling to look over the lyrics, or lack thereof, on the page.

“You should be having a little fun, that’s literally what we came here for,” Jeff continued. “Get out of this fuckin’ studio and be a normal 22 year-old. You deserve it.”

So Harry had decided to go out, telling himself that he was merely listening to a friend’s advice for the sake of his music and sanity. But a part of him also desperately wanted to see Alani, even if he didn’t really know why.

As the clock strikes four, Alani sucks in a deep breath and turns to her sister slicing bananas in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,”

“Figured,” Pua responds, unphased. “I’ll cover for you,”

“I owe you.”

“Get me tickets to his next concert and we’ll call it even.”

Alani rolls her eyes, amused, and presses a chaste kiss to her sister’s temple before grabbing her bag off the hook and heading out. When she emerges in the dining area, Harry is already waiting at the counter with his broad shoulders turned away from her. She taps him gently and feels dizzy when he turns to her with a faint dimpled smile.

“Ready to roll?” he asks.

“Ready.”

When the two are comfortably situated in the Range Rover, Harry scans the parking lot and pulls away onto Mamalahoa Highway.

“Where’s Stevie?” he questions, his lower lip pinched between his index finger and thumb in concentration.

“Oh I walk to the restaurant,” Alani explains. “Don’t live too far,”

“Explains why you ditched your sister,”

“I did not ditch her!” Alani defends with a light laugh.

“Kinda did,”

She shakes her head in mock offense as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up. “My dad will pick her up after work, she’ll be fine,”

“Not to accuse you of nepotism,” he hesitates. “But I thought maybe your dad worked at the café. Family business?”

“He owns it, yeah, but he also works as the head chef at Honu. It’s a resort,” Alani continues. “But I’ll have you know that my waitressing skills are highly qualified, regardless of the nepotism,”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a doctor—pediatric surgeon,”

“That’s amazing,” Harry comments, glancing down at the GPS.

“Yeah, she is,” Alani agrees, her own eyes darting to the screen before attempting to analyze her surroundings. “Hey, where are we going?”

The rings on Harry’s right hand tap gently on the steering wheel as he responds carefully, withholding any hints.

“To the best interview spot I could think of. Go there sometimes to work on the album,”

“So there is an album,” Alani wiggles her brows.

“Off the record,” he clarifies. “But.. potentially,”

She scoffs at his insistence to maintain secrecy.

“Really?”

“We’re almost there.” Harry consoles, referring primarily to their destination, but perhaps speaking personally, as well. Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning and chooses to nod silently in acceptance.

The next few minutes of their drive are filled by humming along to whatever song drifts through the stereo, most notably Paul McCartney and George Harrison, which inspires a lively back and forth about the ranking of ex-Beatles members.

“It goes Paul, George, Ringo, and John,” Alani states matter-of-factly. “There’s no other answer,”

Harry shoots her an incredulous look before responding. “Are you seriously putting Ringo Starr before John Lennon?”

“John Lennon was an abusive asshole,” Alani defends. “Plus he wrote, like, one good song-”

“More than one song—”

“I said a good song. ‘Good’ being the keyword,”

Harry can’t hold back his endearment at her reasoning, so he shakes his head with a wide grin plastered on his face and decides to take one last swing at the hornet’s nest.“He’s still a legend,”

“Isn’t it weird,” Alani muses with a far-away look in her eyes. “That someday, someone’s gonna have this conversation about you?”

Harry doesn’t respond right away, weighing her words and how they settle in his bones. It doesn’t offend him in the slightest, he’s heard far worse, but there is still something strange about comparing himself to musicians he considers to be his icons. Despite all the hard work and sacrifices he’s made over the past five years, he still sees himself as the lucky little kid from Holmes Chapel underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” Alani speaks up when Harry doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” He reassures her. “I was just thinking... ‘bout what you said. I guess I don’t really think about it like that,”

“Oh,” is all she says, still waiting for him to elaborate. After a beat, Harry begins again in his characteristically slow way of speaking that Alani finds charming.

“It’s just that,” he begins, tugging on his lower lip. “Obviously I can’t ignore, you know, the impact that all of it had. But to me it was just… I don’t know. In my head it’s not really on the same level,”

Alani nods, though she can’t say it’s with complete understanding. In this moment, she truly feels the weight of their completely different worlds and how she may never be able to fully sympathize with that part of Harry’s life. She certainly hadn’t been under any impression that she would, but she still feels a bit embarrassed for the closeness she had begun to feel to him in their moments spent together. A sinking feeling settles into Alani’s stomach at the thought that maybe she was making a mistake, despite the constant self-reminders that everything they were doing was completely professional. Don’t get too close, she writes on a mental post-it note, sticking it to the forefront of her mind.

“We’re here,” Harry pipes up.

Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Alani hadn’t noticed when they pulled into the parking lot at ‘Akaka Falls and it took her a moment to adjust.

“This is the place?” she questions hesitantly.

“Yeah,”

“This is where you come to write?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay chained to the studio,” Harry teases with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“No,” Alani breathes out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know what I expected.”

“That was the point.” he explains with a devious smile that makes her let out a proper laugh.

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

“Did you know,” Alani starts, the tips of her fingers reaching out to stroke the petal of an especially vibrant red flower. “That Georgia O'Keeffe had a show in New York City during the 40s with twenty paintings of different flowers that she observed right in this very park?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admits. “Who needs a tour guide when we’ve got you?”

“I have a copy of the waterfall one she did in my room,” Alani continues. “But I’d love to see the real thing some day,”

Harry scans the landscape, eyes settling over the winding stairs that lead them further to the falls and the rest area where he frequently hides away. “Is it still on display?”

“Last I checked, yes,” she nods. “At the New York Botanical Garden,”

“How are you not even a bit winded?” he chuckles, hands on his hips as he pauses and takes a moment to breathe.

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry with a teasing glint already present in her deep brown eyes.

“I thought you came here all the time to write,” she says with a raised brow.

“And I thought it was against the journalist code to berate your subjects,” he shoots back. “But here we are,”

“Touché,” Alani concedes. “But I’m not a journalist yet so I guess the rules don’t apply to me,”

Harry thanks his lucky stars that she turns on her heel back down the steps before she can witness the fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He savors the image of the greenery that complements her olive skin and how the gentle breeze dances through her curls before following behind.

Alani takes a deep breath once they reach the lookout and soaks in the familiar view. No matter how many times she visits the national park, the first sight of the 442 feet of cascading water always leaves her eyes a little misty.

“What brings you here?” she asks, turning to Harry whose sunglasses are perched at the crown of his head to leave the view unobstructed.

His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he turns his head to Alani and searches her face with a crease between his brows.

“That,” he responds, pointing to the glossy sheen over her eyes. “That feeling. Felt it the first time I came here, still do,”

He turns back to face the roaring water before them and Alani takes this moment to study the sharp angles of his profile. She takes note of the sunlight peering through his sea glass irises and waits patiently for him to continue.

“Makes you feel lucky to be alive,” Harry says finally. “And a little small, but in a good way. Like everything bad that ever happened to you doesn’t matter because none of it’s real, is it? But this… this is real,”

Alani feels like the air has been sucked from her chest and her eyes burn a hole straight through Harry’s temple. He doesn’t budge, despite the overwhelming urge to face her again, because he knows that if he does, he’ll lose his nerve.

“Damn,” is all Alani croaks out when she finally catches her breath.

Harry’s stony expression falters as he cracks a small, relenting smile. “D’reckon that’s what TLC were on about when they wrote that song?”

“I think you’re on the right track, yeah,” Alani agrees with a light laugh. “Though I think they were talking a little bit more about drugs, but I like your thing too,”

“Thanks,” Harry smirks. “Now you see why I come here to write,”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” she concedes.

“Speaking of writing,” he starts, walking away from the lookout and over to a rest area with a few tables and benches. “I think we were here to help you write,”

Alani follows and takes a seat on the bench across from him, the setting sun beating against her back and outlining her in golden light that Harry feels couldn’t be more poetic.

She retrieves a notebook, her phone, and a pen from her bag and sprawls them out across the table top. Harry notices that each item is colored a varying shade of pink, but he decides to keep that detail filed at the back of his mind instead of investigating further.

“Same deal as last time, voice notes for quotational accuracy,” Alani reminds him. She looks over her list of questions to pick a starting point, but suddenly none of them seem relevant, so she takes a moment to collect her thoughts and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Earlier when I said this wasn’t what I was expecting,” she begins. “You said ‘that was the point’. Why?”

Harry turns this question over in his mind, caught off guard by the seemingly trivial detail. “I dunno. I guess.. Maybe I just like the surprise,”

“To be surprised, or to surprise others?”

“Both,”

“Why do you like to surprise others?”

He ponders this for a second and takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because it doesn’t happen that often,”

“What do you mean?” Alani prys.

“Well,” Harry begins carefully, sifting through his brain for the right words. “Ever since the whole band thing blew up, I’ve had this strange feeling that everyone knows everything about me, like there’s nothing left to discover,”

Alani watches as he twirls the ring around his wedding finger, a silver rose that has always caught her eye.

“Maybe that sounds self absorbed,” he simpers.

“It’s not,” Alani reassures him.

Harry meets her eyes appreciatively before resuming. “I still remember the first time someone recognized me,”

“What was that like?”

“Bizarre,” he chuckles to himself. “She was very nice, but the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it all was. It’s like, you know when someone you met once or twice comes up to you and you don’t remember their name at all? S’bit awkward ‘cos you feel like you should know something about them, too— level the playing field. ‘Cept no matter how hard you wrack your brain, the information’s never gonna come, even though they know everything about you,”

“But they don’t,” Alani cuts in. “Not really,”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, his eyes narrowed. “But sometimes they feel like they do, which might be worse,”

Alani taps her pen against her bottom lip and nods, a gentle hum leaving her throat as she registers his words.

“Didn’t think about it like that,”

“S’not so much about the fans,” Harry continues. “Because I feel like there’s lots of things I wanna share with them through the music. It’s… everyone else, I guess,”

“I don’t think it’s abnormal to want your privacy,” Alani comments. “To want to share things on your own terms. It’s human,”

“But isn’t that what it means to be loved?” he asks, chin resting in his palm. “To be known?”

Alani picks up on a glimmer of challenge behind Harry’s eyes, as if he is the one conducting the interview and trying to extract information from her.

“There’s a difference between knowing something about someone,” she argues. “And knowing someone,”

“It’s like Prince,” Harry says suddenly, an excited fire behind his emerald eyes. “Who knows anything about Prince besides the fact that he’s a fuckin’ great musician? I sure as hell don’t, but all you wanna do is know more, and that’s what makes him so magical. It’s mysterious… I like that,”

Alani snorts and looks up from her notes scrawled on the page. “Did you just describe Prince like your manic-pixie dream girl?”

“No,” Harry defends with an amused laugh. “Well, not intentionally anyway,”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a wave of her hand. “No, I know what you mean. It’s like keeping the rock-star persona separate from your real life, makes it all more alluring,”

Harry nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out before securing his sunglasses back at the top of his head. “Yeah,”

“But earlier you also said you wanted to share some things with the fans,” Alani begins again, going back to her chicken scratch notes. “What kinds of things were you referring to?”

“Real life stuff,” he offers. “Mostly the not-so-great things. ‘Cos I mean no one wants to hear me sing about going to bars and how great everything is. The champagne popping,”

Harry trails off as his fingers smooth over the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

“I mean, I don’t wanna hear my favorite musicians talk about that, at least. I wanna know ‘how did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?’”

The wind begins to pick up more noticeably and the pages of Alani’s notebook flutter wildly, threatening to escape. Too wrapped up in their conversation, the pair hadn’t noticed the dwindling tourists or the cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Harry squints up at the darkening sky and it peers back at him with equal contempt . He springs to his feet, quickly gathering some of Alani’s things for her.

“We gotta go,”

They quickly scurry and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance quickens their pace up the steps. The adrenaline coursing through Alani’s veins masks the burning in her quads and calves, but Harry’s steady panting gives away his exertion. They’re almost halfway up the long trail of steps when another thunderclap pierces through the sky above them and sends a jolt through their bodies. One speckle of rain hits the pavement in front of Alani’s quick feet, and then another, and another, until the sky opens up and they are caught in the downpour. Alani shrieks and the sound makes Harry belly laugh, a hand instinctively reaching out to the middle of her back to brace her.

“Careful,” He calls out above the deafening rain. “Watch your step!”

Somehow over the sound of the rain and her own heavy breathing, Alani still manages to come up with a witty remark.

“Imagine the headlines!” she shouts over her shoulder. “‘Popstar Lures Innocent Civilian to Her Untimely Demise’,”

Alani doesn’t say anything about his palm still pressed securely against the small of her back, but the warmth of it spreads through her fingers and toes. They continue up the steps, each breathing a sigh of relief when the top is in sight. Harry reaches out for her hand when they make it to the landing, and she accepts it gladly, before they bolt to the parking lot where the lone Range Rover is parked. Once inside, a fit of laughter erupts from the both of them.

“What a cliché,” Harry comments. “Getting caught in the rain,”

Alani sighs. “Too bad we don’t have piña coladas,”

“We could maybe do something about that,” he shrugs.

Alani reaches for her phone and queues up the next song, which brings a cheshire grin to Harry’s face when he hears the familiar drums.

“Wasn’t what I meant, but okay,” he rolls his eyes, turning up the car’s heater before heading back out onto the highway.

“This song’s kinda fucked up when you think about it,” Alani muses, swaying in her seat. “But the chorus is fun,”

“S’all that matters when you’re sloshed,”

“Sorry about your seats, they’re gonna be soaked,” Alani apologizes as her wet socks squelch around in her shoes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves the concern away. “Occupational hazard.”

The drive to Alani’s house from ‘Akaka Falls is only 25 minutes and the two of them spend most of the time lost in their own thoughts, letting the car heater soothe their chilly bones. Alani watches the rain droplets race down the window pane and turns over some of Harry’s words in her mind. His comment about the waterfalls sticks out like a shell emerging from the sand. She begins to think that it perfectly captures this time in his life as he searches for something real amidst the chaos of fame. It’s an angle she’s keen to run with once she has the time to sort through her notes and write, but her thoughts also drift towards the waterfalls in her own life that she’s been chasing. Naturally, she thinks about Rolling Stone and what she hopes New York City will bring her. Adventure, she thinks at first, digging deeper when that doesn’t quite suffice. Success, getting warmer. Purpose, bingo. Alani sinks into her seat with a contented sigh.

“Piña coladas,” Harry hums once they’ve pulled up to Alani’s driveway. “Next time, we’re definitely getting piña coladas,”

Alani isn’t as surprised by his suggestion of meeting up for a third time, though it still sends her heartbeat through the roof. She tries not to think too hard about the implications.

“On you,” she teases.

“Of course,”

“Thanks again,” Alani says, turning to face him. “We covered a lot of material today,”

Harry flashes a shy smile in response. “Sorry ‘bout...your clothes. I should’ve checked the weather,”

“Occupational hazard,” she shrugs, mirroring his words from earlier. “So I guess I’ll just see you around then?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, suddenly aware of her proximity. “I mean are we still doing this—the interviews?”

Alani stops smoothing out her damp waves, feeling as if she had overstepped. “If that’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry reassures her. “I’m available—I mean for your writing I’m—”

He stumbles over his words and Alani eases the slightest bit knowing that he’s nervous, too.

“Just let me know, whenever.” he says finally, regaining his composure.

“Will do.” she nods slowly.

Alani’s eyes dart to Harry’s lips briefly, lingering just long enough that Harry notices, but too quick for him to justify closing the gap. Before he knows it, he’s missed his chance and she’s slipping out of the car, closing the door with a sense of finality that makes his stomach drop.

Alani makes her way up to the house, gravel crunching under her feet and head pounding.

Don’t get too close, she reminds herself. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #solo harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #one direction #harry styles fic #harry fic #ybmh #it's getting real smirk emoji

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goshi-kun · 4 years ago

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Bad Night? 🥀 Tendou x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Tendou have been friends for a while and one night when you were out on the town something happens making you wish you never even left your house! You find yourself stranded and know just the person to call..

Warnings!: fluff!, harassment, drinking -characters are aged up (also this depicts someone going out to a club by themselves which I do not condone please be safe out there guys ❤️)

Word Count: 1.3k

It all started when you had the amazingly stupid idea of going out by yourself on a Friday night. You knew it was a bad idea but work was stressing you out and you needed a breather. So you decided to walk to your favorite downtown club.

You walk in (looking like a snacc may I add 🤭) and of course the place is packed. you expected this though seeing how it was a Friday night and you lived in a pretty popular area of town.

What you didn't expect was the fact that a man would be looking you up and down all night. You had been there for about an hour and a half just dancing, drinking and making new friends. (overall just vibing) but it just kept getting later and later. And all those drinks really hit.

You end up at the bar so you could sit down. Your feet were killing you at this point. The bartender was nice enough to give you a glass of water. You go to thank him when you feel an uninvited hand on your thigh.

"Hey what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?" You look at the man with a dumbfounded expression. You don't say anything as you were currently in complete shock. You always heard about stories like this, but you never thought it would happen to you!

You do snap out of it when you feel the man's hand linger further up your leg. You move your leg out of his grasp with a jerk of movement and give him a slight glare.

"Not interested." You said, looking away from the man. Which apparently was not the response he wanted from you. He firmly grasps your shoulder and you let out a sharp breath as your whole body tenses up. He goes to say something else but the bartender who had watched the whole thing go down had told the man to step away from the bar. Or he would have to get the police involved.

The man took the hint and stepped away from the bar, most likely going to search for his next victim of the night.

"Thank you." You say relieved. He gives you a friendly nod and continues working. Though you still had a bad taste in your mouth from the encounter.

You start to calm yourself down from the situation that occurred when a thought hits you. how am I gonna get home? You could try Uber, but your experiences with the app were nothing but frightening. And you couldn't quite remember the way you walked from. You needed a ride.

You scroll through your contacts list, not finding anyone that would be up this late or close enough to pick you up. Until you read the contact saved as Tendou in your phone. Now you had known Tendou for a while. You went to high-school together and became friends from the random chance of you sitting next to him in your homeroom class.

You became quick friends due to his outgoing personality. He was able to hold a conversation with you. No matter how unsociable you were. You both stayed in contact after high school, but with work being as hectic as it was you hadn't talked to him for a few weeks.

You make your mind up. He was your friend, he lived in the area, and you wouldn't be surprised if he was still awake. So you text him, and you get a quick response due to the many spelling errors and the urgency of your message.

Tendou does eventually get the address of the club you were at. (thank god that man can speak cursive 💀) Knowing that your ride will be arriving shortly you head to wait out front of the club. You feel good knowing that your knight in shining armour of the night is going to pick you up and take you home.

That is until you hear an all to familiar voice.

"Hey! Thought I lost you pretty lady." The bad taste from earlier returns and you begin to dread what the man's next words or actions are going to be. Especially since the man begins to walk over to where you were standing.

He gets way to close for comfort. And once you feel his hand make his way onto the small of your back down to your ass all your alarms are going off. You are frozen where you stand not knowing what to do.

He begins explaining to you that he would like to "take you to his place" and "show you a good time" but you were not interested in any of that. You let him know that you don't want any of his advances but he only becomes more persistent. His calm words that had flirtatious undertones had turned into demands and you were quite honestly scared about what this man was going to do.

You attempted to push him away from you, but he grabs your arm way too roughly in response, making you let out a whimper.

You were so scared you didn't even notice the lengthy figure walking towards you and the man.

"Y/n?" The sound of Satori"s voice is music to your ears. You begin to turn to him but the man hadn't let go of your arm. He was actually gripping it tighter the more you tried to escape his grasp.

Tendou had noticed this. Actually he noticed when he was still halfway down the sidewalk watching the situation unfold. Saying he was PISSED was an understatement. The only thing on his mind is getting the man away from you.

Tendou is right next to you in the blink of an eye. Making sure you were okay. He had a hand on your shoulder, and another on the man's arm. Signaling that he would be taking you now, but the man was still persistent.

Tendou was fed up at this point. All he wanted was to come pick up his friend, (who was also his long time crush) and now he has to deal with this asshole? yeah no.

"Dude, let go of her. She obviously doesn't want you to touch her." When the man ignores his warning Tendou proceeds to shove the man off of you, with so much force the man had to level himself with the ground again.

"Did you not hear me?" Asked Tendou, almost like he was mocking the man now that he wasn't getting what he wanted.

The man must have realized the situation he was in at this point. I mean here was this guy who was over six feet tall-not the mention the somwhat intimdating apearence- who had just nearly shoved him to the ground with one push. It would have been dumb on his part to keep arguing.

With that the man gives a simple low toned "whatever man" and takes his leave. Causing you and Tendou both feel a wave of relief rush over yoursleves.

"Are you okay?" Tendou looked really irritated, but none of it was directed towards you.

"I am now!" You flash him that signature smile of yours which of course got you one from him in return.

Tendou begins to lead you to his car. He parked a ways down the side walk since all the closer parking spots were taken. This led to the next problem of the night. Your feet hurt. Like REALLY hurt.

Luckily this had a simple solution. A piggyback ride to his car obviously 😌

So there you were getting a piggyback ride from a boy who had saved your night (that you also had a long time crush on) and he was now taking you home safe and sound.

You both agree that he will be accompanying you on your next adventure to the club. Or maybe a coffee shop the next morning? ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors Note: well idk i kinda have mixed feeligs about how this turned out, but it was fun to write! :)

#tendou scenario #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #tendou fluff #tendou headcanon #haikyuu #tendou fic #tendou smut #shiritorizawa #shiritorizawa x reader #tendou satori x reader #tendou #haikyuu!!

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bimboamyrose · 4 years ago

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On The Scarlett Sea - Part 1 / 2

A ~Pirate~ Metamy Fanfic - [Link to Part 2] - [AO3 Link]

Synopsis When the world learns of a secret pirate treasure plundered from the Knuckles Clan’s ancient ruins over 300 years ago, Knuckles enlists the help of his friends, Amy and Tails, to retrieve and hide its most powerful artifact- a mysterious mirror that allows the user to become their most desired self. He isn’t the only one after the treasure, however; As Metal Sonic discovers the existence of the mirror, he forms his own crew of “pirates” to take it for himself. Along the way, he separates Amy from her friends and convinces her to help him make his greatest dream a reality- but what is that, really?

In collaboration with @mmm-asbestos & their pirate Metamy AU Merry Xmas / Happy holidays and stay well~

Part 1

There were few things Knuckles regretted more in life than meeting the self-proclaimed “World's Greatest Thief,” Rouge. As such, Amy knew she was in for a rant the minute she answered his call at the crack of dawn and heard him utter the bat’s name.

“Rouge is in the news!” he yelled into the receiver.

“Wha…” Amy rubbed her eyes. It was still dark out.

“Haven’t you seen the papers this morning?”

“You get newspapers on Angel Island?” she yawned.

“Turn on the news! This is important!”

“Alright, calm down...” Amy slid out of bed sleepily, still yawning as she flipped her living room TV on and threw herself onto the couch groggily. A news channel was running a segment on an archeological discovery that seemed to be making waves. Amy turned it up so Knuckles could hear on the other end.

“The centuries-old hiding place was found by none other than world-famous treasure hunter, Rouge the Bat. The former jewel thief was hired for her skills-”

“Former jewel thief?! Where are they getting their sources?”

“Quiet, I can’t hear!” Amy raised the volume further to drown out his yelling.

“- the discovery of a lifetime! We had an exclusive interview with the mastermind who helped find this historical treasure. Here’s what she had to say:”

Footage of Rouge sitting in a lavish armchair next to a roaring fireplace followed. “Well, you’ll be interested to hear that this isn’t the famed Captain Scarlett's treasure. It was a personal stash of journals and letters her wife left behind.

The camera cut briefly to a reporter sitting across from her. “And we understand that a possible map to the famous pirate’s real treasure was hidden among this?”

“That’s correct. I spent some days analyzing the documents and discovered they contain instructions on how to reach Captain Scarlett’s treasure. There are some hints as to what’s contained at the site as well. I’ll be sailing there with a crew in a few days!”

“Can you give us an idea of what you believe to find there?”

“Untold riches, of course!” Rouge gave a breathy laugh. “And perhaps some old artifacts- I understand she had an interest in ancient cultures,” she waved dismissively. “We’ll find out soon enough- I’m confident it’ll take no time to navigate there.”

“And we’ll be here on land waiting with bated breath for the historical discovery! Now back to-”

Amy muted the TV, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim early morning light. “So she was hired to find some old pirate treasure? Is that what you’re upset about?”

“The treasure she was hired to find happens to contain an ancient Knuckles Clan artifact! You need to get the others and come to Angel Island right away-”

“You’re mad about the possibility that Rouge will find some antique?”

“Antique! Amy-” she could hear him trying to restrain himself. “Listen to me, if this ‘treasure’ falls into the wrong hands, it’s going to be a mess to clean up. Get Sonic and Tails and come here as soon as you can. They’re not answering my calls and we need to speak in person.”

Amy groaned. It was far too early to be thinking about a new dangerous adventure- especially when they’d just stopped one of Eggman’s plots less than a week earlier. “Fine… at least let me have some breakfast first.”

“Make it quick!” he hung up.

“And they say I’m bossy,” Amy grumbled to herself. Before long, the sun’s rays shone brightly throughout her house and sleeping in no longer sounded comfortable. With a sigh, she got ready for the unexpected day ahead.

-----

“I never knew there was a catacomb under the altar…” Amy held a lantern out in front of her as she climbed down the steps.

“That’s ‘cause it’s a secret,” Knuckles responded gruffly. “Come on, I shouldn’t have to tell you to hurry it up!!”

Sonic and Tails trailed behind in a sleep-deprived state. They’d stayed up until morning playing games and were just getting to bed when Amy pounded on the lab door to retrieve them. She still wasn’t sure how Tails managed to land the plane on Angel Island. “Relax, Knux…” Sonic rubbed his eyes as he followed behind Amy.

“I’m gonna fall asleep in here…” Tails yawned.

“No sleeping!” Knuckles sealed the entrance and rushed ahead, leading the way. The rest of the group groaned in unison as they followed.

As they went, Amy noticed a ladybug had hitched a ride on her shoulder. “Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here.” She picked up the small insect on the end of her finger and continued after Knuckles. After coming down a winding staircase and navigating a series of dark corridors, the team arrived in a small room with walls lined with scrolls and small relics with a hard wooden table in the center. Knuckles lit the torches on the walls and sifted through the contents of a stone shelf.

“I have a flashlight, you know,” Tails remarked.

“No flashlights! You’ll damage the texts.”

Tails mumbled under his breath. “I suppose lighting them on fire is better…”

“Quiet- look at this.” Knuckles brought out a large, yellowed scroll and a wooden box. Spreading the scroll across the table revealed what appeared to be a map of the ocean. “This is a map to that treasure Rouge is after.”

“Wait,” Amy interrupted, “You have one, too?”

Knuckles nodded. “This is Captain Scarlett’s map.”

Sonic leaned over the scroll. “Scarlett? Isn’t that the famous lady-pirate? Why do you have that?”

“Because,” Knuckles continued, “300 years ago, that damned pirate plundered the Mystic Ruins for its treasure. This map was found by an Echidna scholar over a century ago and it’s been here ever since.”

“So, this isn’t the first time someone finds part of Scarlett’s treasure?” Tails asked.

Knuckles scoffed. “Hardly. My people have been after that stash of letters that Rouge found for decades. We’ve been trying to keep the contents of ‘Scarlet’s’ treasure a secret since it was discovered what it contains- The Stone Mirror.” The others stared blankly at him, the object he was referring to having no meaning to them. He looked at each of them irately before continuing. “Really? Argh, fine; The Stone Mirror is a powerful artifact that can turn the user into their ‘most desired self’- whatever that means. Apparently, old Scarlett used it 300 years ago to become the world’s best pirate or something.”

“So… you want us to help you look for a magic mirror in the middle of the ocean?” Sonic asked.

Knuckles’ brow twitched. “Did you not just hear what I said? What if Eggman got a hold of this thing?!”

“What’s the big deal? We should be able to fly there-”

“No flying. This map is meant to be navigated by sea. Besides,” Knuckles opened the small box to reveal a compass and a crystal eyepiece. “This map only goes so far. We’ll need these once you get to this point to guide the rest of the way.”

“Let me see that,” Tails took the compass in his hands and waved it around the room. “Does this thing work? It doesn’t even point north.”

“It points to where it has to point once you get here,” Knuckles poked at a red X on the map.

“That literally makes no sense.”

“It’s what the scholar wrote down when she discovered this map!”

As they bickered, Amy carefully picked up the map and held it to the light. As it passed in front of a lantern, writing could be seen across one side of the scroll. The little ladybug that had ridden in on Amy’s shoulder flew onto its surface and crawled around. “Guys, look! There’s something written here.” The boys went silent as they leaned in to get a closer look at the neat cursive script. Amy read it aloud. “Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.”

Sonic shook his head. “This lady sounds lost.”

“Maybe,” said Knuckles, “But our best hope is to follow this map and figure it out from there. And get that bug off the map, would ya?” Amy allowed the little red insect to crawl back onto her hand before replacing the map on the table.

“Yeah, all I’m hearing is we’re gonna get ourselves stranded in the ocean. Count me out.”

“Are you serious?!”

“No way I’m getting on a boat just to get stuck in the middle of the sea,” Sonic crossed his arms stubbornly. “I’ll stay here and look after the Master Emerald.”

“No fair, why do you get to stay?” Tails complained. “I don’t wanna be on a boat, either!”

“I think it sounds fun,” Amy said, watching as the ladybug crawled around on her palm.

“This isn’t a pleasure cruise!” Knuckles yelled.

Tails’ ears drooped. “I’ll say. Sonic’s right, we’re gonna get lost. Don’t you have that scholar’s notes, Knuckles?”

“No.”

“But you know a little about what she wrote; where are they?”

Knuckles grumbled as he crossed his arms. “There was… a small fire…”

“No kidding,” Tails frowned.

“Bah- Will you help me or not? We need to get on a boat ASAP to beat that bat over there- she has all the same information in those documents she found!”

Rolling his eyes, Tails turned back to the map. “Fine. We can take my boat. But I need to take a better look at this map in some proper lighting.”

“Deal,” said Knuckles. “You in, Ames?”

“You can count on me! I already have our costumes planned out,” Amy giggled.

“Costumes…?” It didn’t feel like much of a deal to Tails, who’d just been roped into steering a boat for the next several days in whatever outlandish outfit Amy would choose for him. He rolled up the scroll begrudgingly and gathered the other trinkets into their box. Knuckles turned out the torches as the team spilled out into the corridor and followed him back up to the surface. They all squinted harshly as the mid-morning sun burned their eyes.

“Here you go,” Amy told the ladybug, placing it on a small flower. “Hope you find your way back home okay.” She watched it crawl around a bit before spreading its wings and buzzing away happily. She smiled as it flew off, pleased that it was able to make it back to the surface with her help. Once it was out of her sight, Amy joined her friends in making their plans to sail off in the next few days.

The shiny little insect flew and flew, ascending far higher and speeding up to a far quicker pace than any ladybug reasonably should. It continued off the edge of Angel Island, floating high above the land, the sea, then the clouds. It didn’t take the ladybug very long to reach its destination, flying into a tiny steel vent and into a cold, metallic fortress. Once aboard the Egg Carrier, it made its way into a small lab where it landed on a steel desk, ready to address its master.

“It is about time you returned…”

The ladybug spread its wings once more, this time flying into the minuscule port on a computer that topped the desk. A video appeared on the screen that took up the wall ahead, displaying a first-person view from the bug’s perspective. It flew toward Amy Rose, landing on her shoulder just as she descended into a secret passage.

A young boy’s voice was heard. “I’m gonna fall asleep in here…”

“No sleeping!” a gruff voice responded.

“Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here,” Amy could be heard saying before the view changed to atop her finger.

“Interesting.” Metal Sonic locked his fingers together, resting his chin over his thumbs as he leaned in to listen closely. “What are our little heroes up to now?”

----

The following morning, Eggman raised a brow as he enjoyed his coffee with the early news. A field reporter was live from a marina where a crime was committed earlier that day. The spot at the docks where a historic pirate ship normally floated was empty.

“They just sailed off in her!” a frantic man said on TV. “We had a wedding planned there for this afternoon! What are we supposed to do now?”

The show cut back to the news anchor. “The historic Royal Fortune, the antique pirate ship that still operates tours and events to this day, was stolen early this morning as the thieves marooned the crew on a nearby sandbar. The criminals are described as armored and wearing black hooded cloaks. If anyone has news regarding her whereabouts-”

“Hmm…” Eggman muted the show as he heard a loud, metallic clanking forming from the corridor. Metal Sonic strode in from outside the floating fortress with two Silver Sonic Prototypes close behind. All were mysteriously clad in black hooded cloaks as the small minions each carried oversized boxes above their heads.

Eggman leaned back in his chair to look out through the open doorway. “Metal, where were you so early?”

The three robots stopped in their tracks as Metal Sonic turned around to address him momentarily. “Out.” He continued forward without another word.

“I gave you the ability to talk so you could use it, you know,” Eggman grumbled. He took another sip as a loud doorway could be heard opening and shutting down the hall. With a sigh, the old man shook his head, wondering what the dark cloaks were about. Why would they hide their identities to steal the stupid ship? What is he even up to? he asked himself before going back to his coffee.

Once in the privacy of Metal Sonic’s lab, boxes were ripped open and long capes were thrown aside. Metal Sonic stood in front of a full-length mirror examining his freshly painted armor, glittering gold accents reflecting the dull fluorescent lighting. Each of the pint-sized prototypes had received chromatic silver paint jobs as well to differentiate them from the dozen or so other identical bots that performed various tasks around the airship. They both sorted through the boxes, throwing various period garments about the room haphazardly.

Clothes were strewn everywhere by the time Metal Sonic noticed the mess they were making. “I told you two to find me something to wear, not wreck my lab!” The identical minions looked at one another blankly. One of them picked a pair of stays up from in front of him and held for his master to observe. Metal snatched the undergarment from the smaller robot’s clamps and threw it aside. “That is not what I meant!” He picked up a nearby book and ripped it open to a page containing an illustration of a pirate captain. “Find me this,” he pointed at the pirate’s jacket gruffly.

His claw made a loud CLANG against his forehead, saluting Metal before stretching an extendable arm across the room to retrieve a navy coat with gold accents that had been tossed aside. Once in his possession, Metal Sonic draped it over his shoulders and examined his reflection once more. “Hmm… A bit restrictive. H3, scissors.” The other lackey robot took the command, fetching a pair of scissors from a drawer and presenting them to his master. Metal proceeded to chop the coat up into little more than an open vest adorned with golden epaulets draped with tassels at each shoulder. He belted the reconstructed jacket around his waist and stared at his reflection. “What do you think? Missing something?”

The two henchmen examined the book’s illustration again. One of them shot up and dove into one of the boxes, returning with a tricorn cap. He extended his arm and placed the hat atop Metal Sonic’s head while the other clapped his bulky claws together.

“I don’t know…” Metal rested his hands on his hips pensively. “What are you two wearing?”

H3 and his counterpart, H4, looked toward one another with a shrug. They dug through the pile, each digging out a solid-colored scarf. H3 wrapped his blue one around his head like a bandana while H4 tied a red one to his waist. They looked each other up and down for a few moments before deciding in unison to switch their color choices, H3 snatching the red bandana from his brother and pulling it over his head while H4 made a belt of the blue one after ripping it from atop the other’s head. They high-fived to commemorate the decision, their little clamped hands rattling together as they made contact.

“Fine, fine…” Metal waved them off, glancing back at the book once more. The captain sported a sword at his waist. At the bottom of one of the boxes rested an antique cutlass that resembled the one in the drawing, but dulled at the edge. “Yes… This will do.” He picked up the weapon and brandished it ahead of his body “If Sonic’s friends are dressing for the occasion, so shall we!” he cackled. “H4, make sure this gets sharpened,” he barked as he thrust the sword into the minion's hands. “H3, clean up this mess. I have work to do.”

With that, each of the minions loudly saluted Metal Sonic before attending to their tasks. Metal leaned over his desk as the video of the heroes reappeared on the large screen ahead. He was disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t be facing his rival, Sonic- the coward had decided to stay on land. Metal looked from one of their faces to another before settling on Amy Rose’s cheerful expression. “Yes… She will do.” Metal concocted his plan, reveling in the knowledge that once he obtained the Stone Mirror, he would manifest into a form that not Sonic nor his friends could hope to stand a chance against.

Metal had spent much of the last year spying on Sonic and his friends, waiting for an opportunity when he could be one step ahead. He had grown to resent Eggman and his half-baked plans over the years, existing only as an obstacle to the heroes who always seemed to be prepared. Eggman understood this, or at least knew that Metal had begun taking his own initiative when it came to plotting against his rival. When he caught the robot surveilling the team, he made the decision to encourage him, wanting to take advantage of the part of Metal that could think just like his rival. Soon, Metal had been outfitted with a lab of his own and two henchmen to command. Eggman had upgraded him with the ability to speak and emote more expressly not long after, which Metal found both vexing and enthralling, now taking every opportunity to put his thoughts into words.

But Metal ultimately resented this as well as he had no desire to lean on his master. What he yearned for most greatly was to have the independence and autonomy to act on his own. Though Metal wasn’t disloyal to him, Eggman’s incompetence ironically prevented him from accomplishing his objective of eliminating Sonic. Since then, Metal took what he’d been offered as if a birthright and accepted nothing more, opting to source his own necessities. Everything from research to obtaining materials was to be accomplished by him personally- a task he did not take lightly. And because this was the first- no- the only time he would need to defeat his foes, it only made sense to do it in style.

Perishing the thought that whatever deep-seated programming compelled him to these theatrics was likely due to Eggman’s own influence, Metal had gotten to work studying the life of pirate legend Captain Scarlett. Metal did a poor job at hiding the excitement that befell him as he read everything he could process that regarded pirating. Perhaps it was the high stakes and endless freedom the seafaring criminals seemed to command- and what a very “Sonic” thing to be attracted to. He laughed to himself about his organic counterpart’s apparent fear of the ocean.

Then again, it was probably just the dramatic aesthetics.

The old pirate captain had a flair for the dramatic herself. Metal’s research showed that she often left secret messages in her documents such as the one discovered by Amy Rose in that map of theirs, as well as the letters that had been uncovered. Many of the “mysteries” uncovered through time appeared to be rudimentary puzzles really, it was bewildering how the treasure had remained hidden for so long. Still, he didn’t have a map of his own, and tailing the heroes would only get him so far. Metal knew from past experience that the bubbly girl was rather sympathetic. A savior complex, he thought as he studied his past interactions with her. She was the perfect pawn to manipulate into leading him right to the Stone Mirror.

The video was paused on a frame of Amy and her sunny smile. He recalled their first meeting when he captured her and how helpless she had been; But the girl had grown strong over the years, impressing even him with her combat technique. Amy decidedly wasn’t one to be taken lightly anymore, and he would have to be cautious. The compassion she showed towards most creatures was her real weakness, one that was easy to take advantage of. He played back a compilation of videos he’s taken of Amy Rose; her beaming complexion, the charismatic giggle in her voice, the tender pleading in her eyes…

None of that matters! He shook the thought from his head. What he really needed to understand were the driving factors behind her empathy. What could he use against her? He fast-forwarded to a scene of her and the rest of the group reminiscing about past adventures.

On-screen, Amy sat between Sonic and Tails in the sand, all enjoying an afternoon together at the beach. Knuckles could be heard off-screen. “Yeah, I still can’t believe Amy convinced that robot to let her go! What was it called again?”

“His name was Gamma. Honestly, he was able to think for himself after we became friends- it didn’t take much to convince him that he could disobey Eggman if he wanted to.” she twirled the front of her spines bashfully.

Sonic laughed. “Well good thing you made friends with him! I nearly turned him to scrap metal.”

“Come on, he did a lot of good before… you know.” There was some sadness in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Sonic agreed. “Hey, maybe you could convince Egg-head to do some good for once, too.”

Metal paused the video as they laughed together. “He did a lot of good.” Yes, Metal knew exactly how to get the sweet girl on his side- he was confident it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part, either.

The lab door was suddenly slammed open. “H4, what have I told you about-” Metal paused, faced not with his lackey but with a very animated Eggman.

“Metal! I just saw H4’s new paint job- excellent work! We should outfit all the prototypes with it,” he bellowed.

Narrowing his eyes, Metal turned back toward the screen to brood silently.

Eggman took a few steps into the room before continuing. “Tell me, though, what’s with all the pirate outfits? You putting on a show?” he feigned ignorance over the stolen ship and nudged the box closest to him with his foot. H3 popped his head out from the pile of clothes within with a clanky salute. “This one too, eh? I like the look.” There was no response from Metal but the quickening hum of his turbine as he grew annoyed at the interruption. “That hat will probably impede your hearing, though…”

He continued taking steps into the room, stopping just behind Metal to join him in looking at the screen ahead. It was still paused on a still of Amy looking cheerful. “Studying our heroes again, are we? You sure seem to like this one... She’s pretty cute.”

Metal whipped around to face him once again, this time with blazing eyes. “What are you-”

“I bet you could kidnap her again easily,” Eggman interrupted with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

“Get out!” Metal roared, rising from his seat.

Eggman laughed heartily. “Alright, alright- tell me if you need anything for your little production!”

As the scientist turned on his heel and made his way back toward the open door, H4 was scuttling in with the now sharpened cutlass held carelessly above him. He came to a skidding halt at the sight of Eggman, bringing his hand up to his forehead and dropping the sword noisily on the steel floor in the process. The man cackled at him, bending down to pick up the weapon and examine it. “Nice sword, not that you need it. Teach your lackeys to be a little more careful with sharp objects, hm?” Eggman tossed the sword to Metal, who caught it effortlessly, rolling his eyes.

“... Fine.” he finally responded before taking his seat again and swiveling back toward the giant monitor. He shut off the program that played back the videos.

“Atta boy.” With that, Eggman made his way out of the room. H4 shot out his arm, slamming his claw against a button that shut the door behind him.

The sword gleamed in the harsh lighting as Metal held it up to inspect. Eggman was correct, of course- Metal didn’t need a weapon- he was one. But the added flourish couldn’t hurt, he thought as he swung it through the air, a small WHIP whispering across the room each time he waved it. Metal wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but his creator had a point about his interest in Amy Rose, as well...

An alert flashed on the screen ahead before he could be forced to think about it. “GPS Tracker Activated”. A map popped up showing a blinking red dot, indicating the location of Tails’ boat.

“Finally…” Metal stood, raising a foot on his chair and brandishing the cutlass proudly. “Prepare the ship- we sail at dawn!”

-----

Amy yawned as she got dressed the following morning. The TV was tuned to the news, where a reporter was commenting on the authorities’ inability to find any leads in the case of the Royal Fortune’s theft. “Weird…” Amy remarked to herself out loud. She was tying a blue ascot around the collar of her dress- a white, long-sleeved piece with blue stripes at the hem and cuffs. She had purchased the sailor suit impulsively with the hopes of going sailing leisurely with her friends, but she supposed a maritime mission was occasion enough.

Hearing the whistle of a boat in the distance, she quickly pinned on her hat and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. She lived on the beach and the boys had agreed to meet her there before sailing off. The whistle howled once more and she hurried out of her little shack, running toward the shore. “I’m here already! Quit hollering,” she grumbled. A steel ladder was lowered and she tossed her bag for Knuckles to catch before climbing her way up.

The boat was nothing like the pirate ship she’d seen on TV that morning. It was a sleek white vessel with blue chrome accents that glittered in the early sunlight. The small yacht was equipped with every manner of boating technology that Tails could cram onto it. A door beneath the elevated helm opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down to the main quarters. Knuckles lugged Amy’s bag over his shoulder, beckoning her to the opening.

“Wait! Before you put that away…” Amy unzipped the front pocket.

Knuckles grumbled. “Before I put it away?”

“Yes, thank you for that,” she chuckled, pulling out a pair of themed hats- a sailor’s cap similar to her own, and a white service cap with gold accents. “I figured you guys would prefer these to clothes.”

“Hmm,” Knuckles examined the headwear as she unfurled each one and held them up. “I suppose a captain’s hat would be fitting…” he reached out to take it from her when Tails suddenly interrupted.

“Uh, my ship- If anyone’s captain, it’s me.”

With an incredulous look, Knuckles turned his chin up to address him. “My mission, my hat- I’m captain. You’re navigating.”

“Oh and I suppose this boat’s gonna steer itself?” Tails said in a mocking tone.

“You think I don’t know how to drive a boat?” Knuckles was yelling now.

“Like I’d let you even if you could.”

“Alright,” Amy interrupted, “That’s enough- we have to be on this boat together for the next week. You two better get along!”

“Fine,” Knuckles crossed his arms. “Who do you think should be captain?”

“Tails,” she responded without hesitation.

“What?!”

Tails snickered from above. “Do you even have a boating license, Knuckles?”

His expression of rage quickly turned blank. His teammates both watched as the gears seemed to turn in his head. “... No.”

Amy and Tails both broke out into a fit of laughter. Knuckles snatched the sailor’s cap from her hand and stomped down the stairs with the duffel bag, grumbling choice words under his breath. “Here you go,” she tossed the captain’s hat up to Tails.

“Thank you,” he smirked triumphantly. “We’re ready to go- let’s let Sonic know before we sail off.” Amy made her way up and stood by him as Tails made a video call on a tablet. Sonic appeared on it a moment later.

“Yo,” he winked. “Looking good, guys.”

“Thank you,” Amy giggled bashfully.

“We’re about to sail,” Tails interjected before she could start chatting. “Everything good on your end?”

“Yep, just me and the Master Emerald. Pretty boring…”

“Don’t let Knuckles hear you say that.”

The three shared a chuckle before Amy and Tails waved to Sonic and signed off. The boat’s ladder ascended from the sand as Tails made the final preparations to sail. Knuckles reemerged from the doorway below as the vessel began moving, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Where’s your uniform, skipper?” Tails chortled, noticing that he hadn’t donned the white and blue cap.

“Watch it,” he threatened, eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the boat slid away from the shore and into the open ocean, Tails and Amy chuckled to themselves, ready for the adventure ahead. Unbeknownst to them, however, they weren’t the only ones tracking their whereabouts.

Back at the Egg Carrier, Metal and his lackeys were getting ready to mobilize.

The three bots snuck out of the lab and through the steel corridors, making sure to fly to keep noise to a minimum. It was dark- Eggman either wasn’t up or was too fixated on his work to notice them anyway. Once they reached the outdoor deck, each landed on the edge for a moment, H3 and H4 awaiting commands. “We will stay off their radar by remaining some distance away, and intercept them at this first meeting spot,” Metal explained. “But we need to catch up. Now, to the ship!”

But before he could lift off, a mechanical squeaking caught Metal’s attention from behind. He turned his vision to the distraction, claws outstretched in case someone was trying to stop him. His gaze was met by that of another Silver Sonic Prototype, who then imitated the awkward saluting motion the other two greeted their masters with. Metal narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously but lowered his guard. “What is the meaning of this?”

The small robot seemed to pull a yellow bandana from out of nowhere and quickly tied it below his muzzle, looking back up at Metal Sonic with his permanent sly grin. Metal scratched his chin pensively. “You wish to join us?” The prototype’s joints squeaked as it bobbed its head quickly and violently, causing Metal to slap his hand atop it like he was hitting a switch. “Enough! You’ll alert the others. Hm… State your serial number.” He lifted his right foot to reveal a string of numbers written on the sole, the last of which were “H1.”

“Ah, the very first…” Metal processed the unexpected interruption for a moment. He didn’t know how the robot had discovered his intentions, but there wasn’t much time to lose. At this point taking the additional support with him would at least keep word from getting to Eggman if H1 made a fuss. Metal supposed he could just deactivate him and toss him overboard, but…

“Very well, you may join me... But your outfit needs work. I’ll brief you on the ship- move!”

H1 threw its hands in the air with excitement, the four of them taking off. Metal Sonic lead the charge to the ship anchored about a mile away as they shot down through the high clouds.

-----

“Are we there yet?” Amy groaned from a lounge seat on the upper deck. The excitement from that morning had slowly turned to a boring exhaustion as the day dragged on. It was impossibly hot- the sun’s rays intensified by the inescapable humidity. The sun would be setting in another hour and they’d all been up since dawn, but Amy was the wariest.

“You know this is gonna take days, right?” Tails yawned. He had joined her on the deck while the boat was on auto-pilot, not intending to change direction for some time.

“I thought this first place was supposed to be close…”

“Yeah, it’s only a 12-hour boat ride,” he shrugged sarcastically. “But who knows how far the actual treasure is?”

“You two need to stop your belly-aching, you’re already getting on my nerves.” Knuckles was seated cross-legged on the roof of the helm. The others were sure he’d bake to death.

“Easy for you to say, all you do all day is sit around!” Amy huffed.

Tails checked his tablet, which he’d equipped with a navigator. “We’re actually pretty close… We’ll be coming up on these coordinates in about 20 minutes.”

Amy stretched her arms in an attempt to liven herself up. “Great! Then we have to figure out this weird puzzle…”

“I’m sure it’ll be obvious once we’re there,” said Knuckles. Tails couldn’t help but think he sounded awfully confident for someone who had no idea how to navigate.

“Hey, what is that…?” Tails hurried to take a pair of binoculars from his equipment and ran to the bow, staring into the horizon. The others listened in, Amy sitting up in the chair and squinting her eyes ahead. “Uh, there’s another boat over there… a big one.” The team all scrambled to the front of the boat, trying to look through the binoculars at once. A bright white ship could be seen in the distance- at least three times the size of Tail’s boat but just as modern. As they inched closer, some of the crew could be seen pacing around the main deck.

“Give me those,” Knuckles snatched away the binoculars for himself, zooming in on the ship’s bow as close as he could get them to focus. “You have got to be kidding me…”

“Rouge.” The woman he considered his arch-rival was sauntering about the bow of her ship, the stitched-together map in hand as she conversed with some crewmates. Two men each lugging a huge camera over their shoulder stood on either side of them. Amy and Tails groaned upon hearing Knuckles utter her name with disdain, knowing the squabbling that would come next. He watched as she squinted in the direction of their boat once they were in view of one another.

Tails brought his vessel in close to her ship, which towered above theirs. Rouge had to lean over the side railing to look down at the team. “Oh my, what is it you want?” she frowned.

Knuckles raised a foot to rest on a railing of his own. “We’re after Scarlett’s treasure, and you’re in our way.”

“I mean, they’re not really in our way,” Tails grumbled. “Can you take your foot down from there?”

“Quiet,” Knuckles held a palm up to him, chin still pointed up at Rouge.

One of the cameramen leaned over next to her, pointing his recording device directly at Knuckles. Rouge continued with a smirk. “It looks like we have some competition- not that they stand a chance at finding it before I do.”

Knuckles squinted. “What’s with the cameras?”

“Cameras?” Amy skipped over next to him and waved up at the ship. “Are you guys making a movie?”

“A documentary,” Rouge nodded. “And you look so cute. What do you think of this?” Rouge batted her wings and flew up to hover just above the railing, the camera following her as she did. She wore a brocade bustier over a lacey flared-sleeve linen blouse and fitted black trousers tucked into leather boots. She looked like a true pirate.

“Oh,” Amy beamed, “Gorgeous!”

Knuckles raised his voice as his vexation grew. “What the hell is happening? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Aesthetic,” she shrugged. “And how did you find this place, anyway? Are you tracking us?”

“I’ll have you know that treasure you’re after contains sacred Knuckles Tribe artifacts, and we have Captain Scarlett’s original map.” Knuckles crossed his arms confidently.

“No kidding?” Rouge pouted. “Well, good luck- we’ve been here for hours and can’t figure out where we’re supposed to go from here.”

“Typical!” Knuckles shot back.

“Hmph- If you’re so knowledgeable, hotshot, let’s see you navigate from here!” Rouge flew off out of sight with the cameraman on her heels.

“Whatever-” Knuckles marched up to the helm where Tails had already begun studying the map. “So... where do we go from here?”

“Beats me…” he shrugged.

“Are you serious?”

Amy joined them, picking up the crystal eyeglass and bringing it to her eye. She expected it to magnify things, but it didn’t appear to be a telescope. “Well, this has to have something to do with it. Hmm…”

“Don’t forget the compass.” Tails brought it up to eye-level. “It’s pointing south by south-west. Weird.”

“What did the map say again?”

Tails held it up to the light, reading aloud. “‘Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.’ Whatever that means…”

“‘Sky above turned’... Like, turned to night?” Amy raised the eyepiece up high. The soft blue sky turned an intense shade of cobalt when viewed through the glass. “Ohhh, how pretty,” she remarked. “Glassy eyes…” Amy turned to tails with a gasp.

“The eyeglass!” they said in unison.

“But do we have to look up at the sky during the nighttime then?” Tails scratched his chin.

“I don’t think we’ll see much at night with this thing- it just turns everything blue.”

Knuckles took it from her, glancing through it with one eye. “What’s this even for?”

“I thought it was a spyglass, but it doesn’t magnify anything. It’s just a blue glass at the end.”

“That’s useless…” The three of them pondered on it as the sun neared the horizon. It would be dark soon- they didn’t want to be stuck there trying to figure it out overnight. Both teams were so deep in contemplation that they hardly noticed a third object approaching on their radar until it could be seen in the distance.

“Is that a pirate ship?” Rouge could be heard from her ship’s deck. She flew up to get a better look through a telescope. “Do you guys have anything to do with this?” she accused.

“Uh, definitely not” Tails answered, glancing through his own binoculars. He zoomed in as far as the lenses allowed. A lanky figure with a spiky head could just barely be made out. “Is that… Sonic?”

“What? Gimme those,” Amy yanked them away from him to look. “Hey- isn’t that the pirate ship that was stolen yesterday?”

“You’re right!” Rouge shouted. “And that does look like Sonic…”

Amy gasped in realization. “That’s not Sonic… That’s Metal Sonic.”

“Oh great, now we gotta deal with Eggman, too?” Knuckles groaned. “What could he want?”

The ship was fast approaching. Rouge shouted orders at her crew, instructing them to ready their weapons. The TV crew scrambled around frantically, trying to catch all the action. Amy and Knuckles looked at Tails expectantly, not having anticipated getting into a battle at sea.

“I got this. Everyone get close!” Amy gathered the map, eyepiece, and compass and held onto them tightly as they scurried together at the helm. Tails entered a set of commands and the boat began to separate in two, bisected vertically to make way for an enormous cannon that rose from beneath the deck. The helm was raised up and back, a shield forming around it like a cockpit. “Knuckles, cannon. Amy, be on the lookout from the starboard and stem. I’ll keep an eye on the port side while I steer.”

“Roger!” they shouted in unison.

Metal Sonic’s ship approached from the south, circling around both vessels as it came close. “Ahoy!” his voice came shouting out of a speaker. He cackled as his opponents all seemed to look to one another with bewilderment.

“Could he always talk?” Tails asked his friends.

Amy shuttered. “Not always…”

Rouge’s voice was amplified by a megaphone as she flew above her ship’s bow to address Metal Sonic. “Tell us what The Doctor is up to!”

“‘The Doctor’ has nothing to do with this. I’m here for her,” he extended a long, spiked claw to point directly at Amy, who jumped at the announcement.

“Wh- Me?”

“Yes, you. Now come, join my crew!” His hand closed into a fist as he made the demand. No one was more dumbfounded than Amy. At a loss for words, she looked incredulously at Metal Sonic. “Well, come on, I haven’t got all night.”

Shaking her head of the confusion, Amy finally answered. “Uh… no thanks?”

Everyone turned their attention back to Metal. He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms behind him authoritatively. “Are you sure?”

All eyes shifted back to Amy. She was red as a tomato at all the attention. “P-positive…”

“Hm, very well.” Metal took some steps back onto the deck of the Royal Fortune, turning away from the others. Rouge held a hand back to her crew, a few of whom stood on the deck behind her with rifles. Tails and Amy glanced at one another while Knuckles held his fighting stance. Then, Metal spoke again. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.”

Without warning, a cannon exploded in the direction of Tails’ boat. The three hit the deck as the cannon fodder made contact and shook the vessel. Rouge’s crew opened fire on Metal Sonic’s ship, making bullet holes in the old wood but leaving the robot unaffected as the ammunition bounced off his body. He gave her a look of boredom.

The sun began to set as it all unfolded, casting a deep ruby light over the environment. Amy struggled to find her balance and retrieve the eyepiece and compass that had rolled around the floor at the collision. The compass slipped out of her grip, too, sliding down the deck just beside the glass. She moved to snatch both pieces up but stopped when she noticed something glowing upon the compass in the light that reflected from the eyepiece. Picking them up carefully, Amy brought the spyglass up to look at the compass through. Drawn across the arrow was another arrow, pointing in the opposite direction. It illuminated as she looked at it through the glass and disappeared otherwise. “‘Sky turned…’ Oh! Scarlett!” The intense red light cast from the sunset had combined with the blue filter on the glass to reveal the otherwise hidden image. Upon turning the compass around, Amy found some text on the back in the same glowing lettering.

“Amy, move!” Knuckles shouted from behind. She didn’t have time to react before she felt a metallic coil snake around her waist and pull her backward. It wasn’t a cannonball that Metal Sonic had fired, it was one of his minions, H3 with his extendable arms. Amy screamed as she suddenly lurched away.

“Hang on-” Tails commanded, turning the cannon sharply and causing the vessel to shutter again. H3 struggled to maintain his balance until Knuckles came up on his side and smashed a fist into his head, sending the bot flying off the side of the boat. He released Amy instinctually, using his arms to latch onto the railing instead.

Amy landed on her feet, the artifacts still in hand. “Tails, the compass! Look!”

“Little busy!” Tails was turning the wheel at the helm frantically, trying to swing the cannon back around to fire back at Metal Sonic.

“We have to hurry before the sun goes down! We need the red light!” She ran back to the safety of the helm, where the shield protected them from the front. The cannon charged as she scrambled to read the inscription aloud in the dimming light. “‘The Mirror’s bloodlust was nothing to me, for I’d have bled myself dry for you.’ Huh? Hey, this mentions the mirror-”

Tails pulled the trigger then, expecting some kickback from the blast. Instead, the entire front of the vessel was launched upward, the shot deflected into the sky; something had come up beneath them, turning the boat up and threatening to sink it. Everyone aboard lost their balance as the boat listed back. Tails managed to hold on by the helm and Knuckles by a side railing, but Amy was sent sliding down, shrieking as she rolled overboard off the stern.

Metal Sonic looked on in a panic as it unfolded. “Nooo!” his eyes blazed down at whatever had emerged from the sea to cause the collision. A huge steel submarine sat with its nose just under the front of the boat. “Aaaaargh!” he roared in realization. The logo plastered on each side of it gave it away- it belonged to Dr. Eggman.

“Attack!” the command could be heard coming from the half-submerged vessel. Two oversized badniks emerged from the water, a crablike robot that crawled up the side of the submarine and began blasting at Rouge’s ship, and another shaped like a torpedo made to resemble a shark which hurdled itself toward Tails’ boat, causing it to shake and list further.

“Amy! Knuckles!” Tails shouted. He was able to kick himself off and fly, taking the map as he looked for his friends.

“Over here,” Knuckles called. He reached up for Tails’ hand. “Where’s Amy?”

As she finally emerged from the water, Amy coughed and waved her arm up frantically. Spotting her, Rouge flew overhead. “I’ve got her!”

“No, you don’t,” Metal Sonic flew into Rouge’s side, kicking her out of the air and into the water with a grunt. He made his way to Amy, lifting her by the arm out of the murky water. She coughed and sputtered, but clutched onto both the compass and spyglass with her other hand. He pulled her up further to hold by the waist at his side as he circled his way around to pick up H3, still dangling off the side of Tails’ boat. He narrowly missed a direct hit from the shark badnik when it leaped out of the water for another hit.

“Be more careful! You are not to hit Metal Sonic!” Eggman’s voice screeched from the submarine.

Metal flew over it on his way back to the ship. “Why are you here?!”

Amy had begun struggling under Metal Sonic’s grip, threatening to hurdle herself back into the ocean. “Let me go! I don’t want to join your weird crew!”

“Stop your squirming! Do you have a death wish?” Just as he finished the statement, Amy wormed her way out from under his arm and fell headfirst toward the water. Thinking fast, Metal chucked H3 toward his ship with a CLANG and dove for her. He was just quick enough to catch the girl before she fell in again, supporting her back and legs against him tightly; she wasn’t going to get out of this one so easily.

“What do you even want with me?” she yelled, trying to push away from him in vain.

Metal looked down at her, forcing eye contact. “... I need you.” He tried to sound sincere.

“What-”

Bullets began raining down on them now that they were directly across from Rouge’s ship. Metal pulled Amy’s body in, deflecting the fire. “Is anyone here sane?!” Amy actually made an effort to cling to him now, drawing her knees as close as she could muster.

“Stop firing, you idiots, he has the girl!” Rouge wailed, finally hovering up and recovering from her run-in with Metal Sonic. “Are you trying to get her killed?!” She landed on the front of the submarine and swung her leg down on the crab robot’s face, splitting it in two. Meanwhile, Knuckles threw his fist into the side of the other badnik and rendered it useless as it flopped back into the water. Tails carried him up to the deck of the ship with Rouge not far behind.

Metal flew into the hole in the side of the ship from which the cannon stuck out, allowing him to take them out of harm’s way faster. He dropped her harshly on her behind once they were inside. “H4, H1, make sure she doesn’t escape,” he commanded before flying up toward the main deck.

“Ouch! Hey, wait- what do you want with me?” Amy got on her feet and was ready to chase after him when a pair of snaky appendages started winding themselves around her. “Not... again!” she wiggled out an arm, summoning her hammer; but another clawed hand shot out and knocked it from her grip, confining her before she could retrieve it. There was no squirming away now. “Metal! Get back down here and tell these things to let me gooo!” she screeched before one of H1’s arms coiled over her mouth like a muffler.

On deck, Metal Sonic hoisted the sails and began navigating away from the battle. Eggman had stuck his head out of the top of the submarine, waving at him. “Great work, Metal! I’ll hold them off.” the old man just barely dodged one of Rouge’s bullets before scurrying back in.

Enraged by The Doctor’s presence, Metal was tempted to disobey and continue fighting out of spite- but he had what he’d come for. Resenting the “help,” he blasted “Stay out of this!” at Eggman as his ship sailed into the darkening horizon.

-----

In the aftermath of the battle, Rouge tramped around the ship shouting orders with cameramen on her heels. Eggman escaped once Metal Sonic had enough of a lead. Now, one of the ship‘s engines was badly damaged and engineers were sent down to make what repairs they could while Tails and Knuckles were given towels to dry off with. They sat in the enclosed cockpit discussing their next steps.

“I can’t believe they sunk my boat…” Tails was sitting with his head in his hands sorrowfully, lamenting the loss of his tech. “All that equipment…”

Knuckles sat with his arms crossed, grumbling. “Yeah, and now we have no chance of getting to the treasure before Rouge…” She marched into the room just then, slamming the door behind her and locking out the camera crew with a huff. Raising a brow, Knuckles addressed her. “Speak of the devil…”

“Don’t start!” she shot back at him. “I just saved your sorry behinds from being stranded at sea. I’m dropping you off at the next port-of-call, so don’t get too comfortable!” Rouge had a towel draped over her shoulders but hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes. She was getting goosebumps in the cool, air-conditioned room.

“We’re stopping? But we need to get to that treasure before Metal Sonic and save Amy!” Tails protested.

She marched up to the helm and pointed at several flashing indicator lights. “We can hardly go anywhere right now. Half the ship is under duress and we need to stop somewhere for repairs. I’m waiting for a tow.” Crossing her arms, she turned away from the pair. “And you are not part of my crew- we’re leaving you ashore.”

“Like hell you are!” Knuckles stomped over to her, placing a gruff hand on her shoulder. She was not amused, slapping it away from her.

“Hands off! Or would you rather we throw you overboard now?”

“And you’re fine with just abandoning Amy, then?”

With a gasp, Rouge whirled around again, hiding the shame on her face. “What do you want me to do? The ship’s barely operational, and I have a crew to think about…”

Knuckles grumbled but didn’t have a response. He hated to admit it, but she was right- they needed a ship to catch up to Metal Sonic, and theirs wouldn’t make it far.

“Can I take a look at the damage, Rouge?” Tails chimed in. They both looked back at him, then at each other.

Rouge shrugged with a slight shiver. “Fine- you probably know better than my best engineer anyway…”

“No doubt,” Knuckles retorted. “Go change, would ya? You look like you’re freezing.”

“Hmph!” she glared at him. Picking up a microphone, she pressed a button that called the engine room. “I’m sending another engineer down, you are to do what he asks.” Once she received confirmation, Rouge slammed her own compass and eyeglass on the counter atop her map. “And figure this out!” With that, she was off, out a side door and into her quarters. The door shut harshly behind her.

“Hm.” Knuckles leaned back on the wall. “Now the question is, where do we go from here?”

“We’ll need a red light to find out. Come on,” Tails snatched up the items she’d left behind and beckoned his friend to join him in the engine room.

“A red-? Huh?”

Ignoring their questions as they went, Tails and Knuckles weaved around the camera crew that still lingered outside the room and headed down into the ship’s depths.

Some miles away, Amy’s muffled yelling could be heard below the deck of Metal Sonic’s ship. He descended the stairs slowly, stopping in front of her. He made a motion as if to clear his throat and addressed the girl. “Apologies for the restraints. I thought you might be liable to tear the ship apart otherwise.” He signaled for H1 to unwrap his arm, allowing her to speak freely.

“I’ll tear you apart first!” she writhed under the metal coils to no avail.

“If you don’t settle down, we will just have to wait for you to tire yourself out,” he shrugged. “And you’ll find there’s nowhere to go at sea but down- so I’d be careful about threatening the captain.”

Amy huffed and puffed but couldn’t get out from under the weight of so many restraints. Panting, she finally relented, raising her intense glare at him. “What do you want?”

Metal let out a mechanical “sigh,” as if exasperated. He stood with his hands at his hips, leaning forward slightly. “I do not wish to harm you…” It wasn’t a lie- not yet, anyway. “I’ll cut to the chase: I am after the Stone Mirror-”

“And why would I help you with that?”

“Silence!” he commanded. Amy scoffed, turning her head away. “Now... Why don’t we speak in private, hm?” With a snap of his metallic fingers, the heavy arms all snaked away from Amy, putting her down on her feet gingerly. She gazed from bot to bot with caution. Metal pointed at the wooden staircase with both arms. “After you.”

“Hmph!” Carefully, Amy made her way past each of Metal Sonic’s minions and then himself. They began up the stairs while he followed her closely. He looked away for a moment to signal something to the others; Amy saw an opening. In an instant, her hammer appeared in her fist as she swung around to smash it into the side of his face, knocking him off the third step and onto the floor.

Metal Sonic shook his head violently as the light in his left eye flickered. Unfortunately for Amy, it didn’t actually impair his vision and he managed to catch up to her in a manner of seconds. H3 was already whipping his arms around and charging at Amy when Metal Sonic came up from behind to restrain her. “H3, stop at once!” The small henchmen dove onto his back at the sudden command, sliding across the deck with his extended arms dangling behind. He crashed into a beam feet-first, causing it to rattle.

Kicking and flailing, Amy was only able to bring her weapon down behind her, repeatedly hammering the top of Metal’s head. “Let! Me! Go!”

“What do you even plan to do once you ‘destroy’ me? I told you, there’s nowhere to go- And stop the incessant hammering!” He pulled one of his arms away from her, seizing her hammer and chucking it overboard. The repeated hits to the head finally took out the LEDs in his left eye as it went out completely. He pushed her away and she turned back to him. To his surprise, the giant mallet was already back in her grip when she did. “What- How? Why?!”

Amy was breathing heavily, holding her hammer to her front defensively. Realistically, she knew he was right- even if she managed to take him and the others out, she’d just be lost at sea. Maybe he really wasn’t trying to hurt her… he had asked that smaller robot to stop attacking, after all. But Amy couldn’t see what good giving him access to the Stone Mirror would do. “What do you want with the mirror, anyway?” she asked, doubting he’d give a straight answer.

Metal Sonic straightened up into a neutral pose, smoothing down his lapel. His glare softened as an eyelid cast down over his functioning eye. “I shall tell you… After you stop dripping all over my deck.” Amy winced, realizing how sopping wet she still was from her dip in the ocean. Saltwater dripped from her quills and dress and had begun to puddle at her feet. “There’s a change of clothes in my quarters. Will you stop being combative and listen?”

Lowering her hammer- but not putting it away- Amy nodded reluctantly. “You first this time.”

“... Very well.” Metal Sonic led the way across the elevated deck to a set of double doors, opening one and motioning for Amy to enter. She hung back suspiciously. Metal rolled the eye he had left and entered first, allowing her to close the door behind them. Once inside, he plopped down on a large armchair, propping his feet up on the wooden table in front of him. “I’ve set something out for you there,” he pointed at an antique screen in the corner of the room. “Try not to take all night.”

Amy’s glare didn’t stray until she was safely behind the screen, when she put away her hammer. There was a frilled white blouse and ankle-length maroon skirt hanging beside some black stockings and red boots. A towel hung over the screen. Is he serious? She hesitated for a moment, wondering how she ever ended up in such a scenario, playing dress-up for one of her worst enemies. But the situation was hopeless if she didn’t comply. She just had to play along and wait for backup for the time being…

After 10 minutes of waiting, Metal grew impatient. “Do you need assistance?” he mocked.

“No!” Amy emerged a moment later, awkwardly shoving the bottom of the shirt into the bell-shaped skirt. She’d slipped the compass and spyglass into each of her sleeves in the absence of pockets. “Thanks for the clothes or whatever, but why this?”

Ignoring her question, Metal stood and approached her. She took a step back. “Hm… Needs accessories.” His heavy steps clopped against the hardwood floor as Metal strode to another box of costumes. He dug out a set of square scarves and made his way back to where she stood, as non-threateningly as possible. Standing silently, Amy crossed her arms over the front of her body; she didn’t know what to expect. “Would you try these on?”

Amy was in disbelief. What did he want with her that required such a costume? She took the large square of fabric from him and examined them, unsure what she was meant to do. “Uh…”

“Allow me.” Metal held out an unassuming arm. The annoyance on Amy’s face was clear as she placed them back in his hand and brought her hands up to her hips impatiently. “Lift your arms.”

“What?”

“These go around your waist. Now, lift your arms.”

She did what he asked with a grumble, gasping as he tightened each of them around her and tied the ends into forceful knots. Metal took a step back and admired her outfit. “Yes, very ‘pirate,’ don’t you think?” He motioned to a floor mirror across the room.

“I guess…” Keeping his reflection in her sights, Amy walked over to it. She was incredibly weirded out by his insistence, but supposed it could have been worse…

Her captor’s reflection grew nearer as he came up next to her, examining his face. “You really did a number on my eye; I’m impressed. But I wonder if it’ll affect…”

“Hrm- I put on your silly outfit, now will you tell me what you want?”

The single burning eye on his face shot at her briefly. Rather than frightened, the girl seemed irritated at the situation. He measured her heart rate- it was consistent with that of a person at rest now. Her behavior was almost admirable. “It is only fair,” he said, taking a seat back at the table. “Sit.”

“Is the word ‘please’ in your vocabulary?” she spat back.

Another eye-roll from Metal. “Please… sit.” Amy complied. She squirmed a bit as she sat, feeling restrained by the many layers around her midsection. She wondered silently if that was part of his plan. “The Stone Mirror. It allows one to become their ‘most desired self,’ is that correct?”

There was no way Metal Sonic should have known that. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

His eye narrowed at her. “Fine- I will be honest. I know this only from spying on you and your friends. I have nothing to hide.”

“Is admitting it supposed to make it better?”

“No… I suppose not.” He leveraged himself against the table to stand. That glowing eye followed Amy as he paced around the perimeter of the table until he stopped at her side. “I know what the mirror is capable of, and I would like your help to retrieve it.” Leaning back on the table, he pointed at the cuffs of her sleeves. “The compass, if you will…”

“You still haven’t told me why you kidnapped me.”

There was a silent pause. Metal locked his gaze with hers and softened his tone. “You are a compassionate person, Amy Rose. I believe you will understand my need to obtain this artifact.”

“Which is?”

He feigned another sigh. “I am growing tired of being under The Doctor’s command. He has given me some freedom, but…” Looking up, he crossed his arms defensively. “What I am most interested in is my autonomy.” His “acting” would have been impeccable if what he was saying was at all a lie. He hadn’t gotten around to his scheme yet.

“Okay…” The frown on her face told him she was listening, but still wary.

“I do not believe I will be able to achieve that in this form, you see.”

“So, what form are you trying to take? Another giant monster?”

“An organic form,” he responded simply.

Amy was taken aback. “A… A what?” Metal’s engine hummed in the quiet air. He began moving again, circling behind Amy, who didn’t take her eyes off him until he stopped on her other side. She wanted to stare at him intensely, to show that she wasn’t letting her guard down, but there was an impossible longing on his face. It was hard to look directly at him.

“It’s simple- I am a robot. I have an advanced AI far beyond that of others like me, but… There is something missing. This body, although immortal and perfect in design, seems to weigh me down.” He knelt down beside her so he was no longer looming, believing it made him appear more humble. “I wish to think for my own… to feel.”

The moment was uncomfortable. Amy recoiled slightly when he’d come down, trying in vain to avoid locking eyes with him. He sounded so sincere. How could it be possible? “Wh- Why didn’t you just take the compass and run? Why did you have to bring me?”

“I took you so your friends wouldn’t attack me directly and spoil my plans.”

“So I’m a shield?”

“Not quite. I could have taken anyone- I chose you because,” he reached a hand out, gently taking hold of one of hers. She snatched it back with a glare. “Hm. I chose you because I believed you would understand my need and if the necessity arose, you could help me convince your team... I suppose I was mistaken,” he pushed himself upright.

“Wait,” Amy felt like she would regret it, but her good nature didn’t allow her to walk away from someone who seemed so desperate to change for the better- especially an enemy. “Can you… really not be free like this? You seem to have your own will…”

The trap was working. Metal found it easier to keep up the charade than he originally thought. “My thoughts and feelings are simulated. Would you feel ‘free’ if someone could reprogram you and take your memories at any moment?”

“Does… does Eggman do that?”

“... He has.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Oh,” Amy breathed. She held onto her wrists tightly, feeling for the compass and spyglass. This could all be a trap, she could be walking to her doom, and yet… “How do I know you’re not just gonna turn around and transform into something horrible?”

“You don’t. But…” he loomed over her chair slightly. “I will get what I want. You can either help me, or be stranded on the first remote island we come across until your friends rescue you. As it stands, you are only added assurance. The choice is yours.”

So he was back to threatening her. Amy thought about it- he really didn’t need her. If he had evil intentions, Metal Sonic could have just as easily taken what he wanted from her and locked her up, or worse. Instead, he asked for her help. It was unprecedented. Then again, Amy thought she could at the very least stall him- pry into his plan and see if she could discern whether he was being truthful... And it was either that or become a castaway.

She turned back to him with resolve on her face. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

The first phase of the plan was officially a success. Now, all Metal needed to do was keep up the act and use her presence to his advantage should her friends catch up to them. Better not to celebrate, yet- he didn’t want to sound too confident. “Thank you, Amy Rose. I knew I could count on you.” He extended his hand once more, this time waiting for her response. She stood up and shook it with a nod.

“Just Amy is fine. And I hope this means you’ll start thinking for yourself instead of blindly coming after us.”

“Cutting words, Amy…” He may have held her in that handshake a bit harder than necessary as she couldn’t hide the slight wince in her eyes. “Now, the compass.”

A sly smile spread on her face. “No ‘please’?”

Cheeky. Perhaps, Metal thought, she would be more interesting to keep as company than he thought. “Please,” he said in a low growl, drawing her in closer with a harsh tug.

“Ugh,” Amy yanked her hand away from him distastefully. “Here, weirdo.” She pulled the compass from her sleeve and tossed it to him.

“Hm. I believe the next words are ‘thank you.’” Metal examined the compass front and back. “Perhaps you think you’ve stumped me without the little spyglass in the sunset, but…” A purplish glow came from his eye as he cast it down on the navigation device. “I am still a robot, after all.”

With a scoff, Amy crossed her arms. She’d hoped to buy herself some time by not sharing the “solution” with him, but of course, he had a sharp eye. If she wasn’t able to trick him, she’d just have to get in his way.

“An inscription and all. So theatrical,” Metal chuckled. “Even back then, one could simply shine a red light upon this and use the glass filter…”

“You’re one to talk about theatrics.” She wasn’t sure if she should nod toward his outfit or the entire ship.

He let out a metallic laugh. “And here I thought you’d be entertained by all this. Come, we can finally navigate.”

With that, Metal Sonic led Amy out onto the main deck. She followed him cautiously, taking note of her surroundings. Each of the little henchmen clinked their clamped hands to their heads as their master passed. They were cute in their strange little way, their wide smiles making them look silly for the most part. Amy couldn’t help cracking a smile at the one who stood under the roof of the helm. She gave him a little wave and he reacted by springing his arms to the side and doing a handstand. “Pfff!” Amy cracked up.

“H1- stop fooling around. The sails need turning,” Metal demanded. H1 kept Amy giggling as he curled into a ball and rolled down the deck. “I will never know why they are such clowns…”

“Aw, lighten up! They’re fun. Well, when they’re not trying to strangle me.”

Metal ignored her, instead using the compass to navigate. “It seems we just have to go in the opposite direction from where this points. The glowing arrow is hardly necessary.”

“I guess,” Amy shrugged. “Looks cool, though.” She appeared much more relaxed after the quick laugh. Supporting herself on a rail, she looked out into the dark waters. “You can’t see anything out there…”

“Well, you can’t.”

“And pretty soon neither will you. Might wanna start getting acclimated.”

The proud attitude Metal took toward his mechanical body was probably best hidden for the time being. He made a note to dial down the cockiness. “I suppose you have a point. We will light some lanterns, then.”

The great vessel turned gradually in the correct direction as the other minions brought out antique lanterns from the ship’s displays. They did little to light the ship’s way, but Amy at least had a way to see where she was going aboard. Metal Sonic gave her free access to its entirety, but she was more interested in watching the stars from under the unspoiled sky. He observed as she cocked her head up and around to capture what she could with what he only assumed was a much narrower ocular scope than his own. Still, her curiosity was interesting as it unfolded before him. Amy had surely seen the night sky before, yet she craned her head to stare up at it so intently. It was… cute. That word seemed to be thrown in her direction a lot.

Grumbling in her stomach caused Amy to turn her attention to her hunger. She worried there wouldn’t be anything to eat on a ship manned entirely by machines. “Hey,” she called out to him from the lower deck, “uh, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten in a while…”

Food. It hadn’t crossed his mind. Of course, organics liked to- no, needed to eat to survive. He scolded himself for the oversight. “We… did not bring any aboard.”

“Seriously?”

Surely, there had to be something on board as the vessel was operating just two days prior. “The galley, perhaps? Follow me.”

Metal descended the steps that led from the helm and beckoned for Amy to join him in the lower guns. He kept the layout of the ship in his vision as they navigated most of the way into its belly, finally reaching the kitchen down below. Luckily, there was a light switch and Amy was able to put down her lantern as she took in the sight of the huge space.

“Woah… That’s no galley…” she stepped inside, admiring the stainless steel countertops and modern, oversized refrigerators and industrial ovens. “This must be the catering kitchen,” she concluded, opening a fridge. It was full of food just waiting to be prepared.

“Ah, yes. I believe there was to be a wedding here until I commandeered the ship…”

“You took someone’s entire wedding venue?” Amy asked in shock. “I thought you were evil before…”

He supposed that was meant to be a quip, but he didn’t find the humor in her words. Metal walked calmly to one of the stovetops and tested the switch, which was working normally. “It appears everything here is operational. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned on his heel and made for the exit, byt stopped. She would need a place to sleep, too. “I suppose you’ll need sleeping quarters, as well- find me when you’re through and I’ll assign you a room.”

“Uh-huh,” Amy answered half-heartedly. She was too busy deciding what to cook for herself and trying to figure out how to split the huge, catering-sized portions for one.

It took some creativity, but she managed to make something that would last her a couple of meals. Amy didn’t feel great about all the stolen food, but beggars can’t be choosers. Once she’d eaten and cleaned up, Amy picked up the precarious lantern and began her way up the many steps to the main deck. There are modern appliances here and they couldn’t be bothered to get me a flashlight? Amy still didn’t understand what the pirate charade was about, but she had to admit how cute she looked in the historical outfit. Pirates were definitely cooler than sailors; she wished she’d thought of it.

She finally reached the floor below the upper deck to find Metal Sonic sitting at a table in the corridor, wiping and inspecting the blade of a sword. It was creepy. “Hey… I’m done eating.” She held up the lantern awkwardly.

“Have you ever used one of these?” he flicked his wrist, brandishing the sword above him.

“Uh… can’t say I really have.”

“Would you like to?”

Amy clicked her tongue impatiently. “I would like to take a shower and know where I’ll be sleeping.”

The tip of the sword found its way quite startlingly into the wooden table-top as Metal stood. “‘Lighten up,’” he mocked her.

“Are you gonna be this good at copying people when your programming disappears?” Amy did her best to look unphased, but her heart jumped when he stuck the sword into the table. It was beating a bit quicker now.

A monocular, dead-pan stare met her eyes. “Will being organic make me as dull as you?”

Even after years of intense battles and struggling bitterly against him, Amy never wanted to wack Metal Sonic harder than she did then. The whole situation was unbelievably annoying- trapped on a ship with a cocky narcissist. A dangerous one- the thought ran through her mind. Amy had to take a step back- once he changed, if he changed, he would be much less of a threat. If she wasn’t staying aboard for him, she hoped, she was at least doing it for the greater good. That at least gave her some comfort. “Just tell me where it is, I’ll go myself.”

Metal leaned an arm on the table with disinterest. “Down two floors and down the hall to your right. It will be hard to miss.”

“Hmph,” Amy took off, trodding back down the stairs. Other than a short temper, he was impossible to read. She had to find a way to learn more about his intentions.

Amy followed his instructions, arriving in a dark corridor. Amy squinted in the dim light, groping for a light switch. Once she found it, she was in awe. Ornate molding lined the ceiling and fine art hung from the walls. It must have been part of the wedding venue.

She admired the paintings leading down the hall until reaching a door with a gold handle. Bridal Suite was printed on a plaque that hung next to it. Entering, Amy found a bright white room furnished with a canopy bed and vanity, among other lavish furniture. Her irritability quickly melted away as she took in the luxurious surroundings. Maybe staying aboard the strange ship wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-------

Hi yall so I’m taking a break from writing Unfamiliar as I outline the last few chapters. It’ll be back early 2021 ❤️

ALSO I meant to finish this in time for @metamy-ship-week prompt 7 (free day) but it ended up a lot longer than I expected - hope you don’t mind me tagging it!

Part 2 of this should be up in the next few days! Love yall besos

#metamy #metal sonic x amy rose #metal sonic #amy rose #MetamyShipWeek2020 #metamy week #sonic fanfiction #sth #pirates

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nxrthmizu · 4 years ago

Note

#28 with Daminette, please! Also I love your works!

Prompt: ‘Pretending to be a couple and this is a huge mistake AU’

Pairing: Daminette

Words: 2904 words

Note: I kind of changed up the idea a little, hope you don’t mind...

[Thank you so much for the request hun, I’m so sorry it took be so long...

Enjoy! 💖💖💖]

- Cady

---

Damian had always thought that turning eighteen was a privilege. Boy, was he wrong. It was, in fact, a nuisance.

“Mr. Wayne! Do you have a special someone yet?”

“Mr. Wayne, my daughter is 18 and single, would you like to-”

"Mr. Wayne-"

Galas became a swarming mass of reporters and fathers seeking marriage for their daughters. He could constantly feel chills along his back as women stared at him shamelessly as if he were a prize, their predatorial gaze piercing through his soul. Annoyance tainted every aspect of his features at galas, his siblings constantly reminding him to not scowl so much. But honestly, could you blame him? He couldn’t go anywhere without being pestered by twenty reporters about his love life.

Heck, if he wanted to get a cup of coffee by himself, he had to dress up like a criminal avoiding attention. Lucky for him, there was one special cafe that was out of the way and always offered a little quiet for him- As quiet as it could get, anyway.

The Lucky Bug Cafe.

It was quiet and tucked behind a little street, often filled with just one or two students studying quietly and an old couple casually relaxing by the corner. The Lucky Bug Cafe was run by a single, dark-haired woman who looked at him and thought: ‘Ah, he needs somewhere to lay low for a while’ instead of ‘It’s the heir of the Wayne Enterprises, the Damian Wayne’.

It was another casual morning, and Damian needed his fix of coffee before heading to the office, where he would oversee his father’s (And soon to be his) employees while self-studying his business course. A long day lay in wait ahead of him, and Damian would appreciate and nice, aromatic cup of brewed coffee before he had to survive on the machine-made coffee for the rest of the day.

“Good morning.” The dark-haired woman greeted him with a warm smile, her bluebell eyes twinkling under the glow of the yellow lightbulbs. “The usual?”

“The usual.” Damian nodded, hoodie covering his face.

Leaning against the counter, he watched as she bustled around the area, turning on the machine, humming a song to herself as she headed over to the fridge for fresh milk. He glanced at the glass display case under the counter, eyes flitting over the batches of pastries that she had made for the day.

“Could I get five mint-flavoured macarons, please?” He asked as she set his coffee on the collection counter.

“Oh, of course.” She smiled brightly, already grabbing a paper bag. “They’re my new recipe! Do tell me what you think of them tomorrow.”

Damian smiled, his features softening at the woman’s words. “Sure. Oh, and how’s your website holding up?”

Perhaps one of the reasons they clicked so well together was because they were both... Well, famous. Except that he was the future boss of the Wayne Enterprises and she was the anonymous designer of Nette’s Design and Clothing. Articles concerning the identity of the anonymous designer popped up occasionally on Gotham’s magazines, not to mention that the celebrities that wore her work often ended up on the front page of fashion magazines.

“Good. It’s getting a little flooded these days, but I think I’ll manage.” She said with a giggle, winking at him. To anyone else, it would seem like they were talking about a small, by-the-side online clothing commission business, but both of them knew the true value of their conversation. “Need me to make you a new suit for the gala?”

It was then the idea struck him.

He processed it, and a fierce blush erupted on his cheeks, the said man nearly dropping his paper bag of macarons in the process as he fully understood his idea.

“Are- Are you okay?” She asked instantly, worry clouding her features.

“Yea-Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll... Get back to you on that.” He stammered, knowing that if he stayed a second longer, he was going to blurt out his crazy, stupid idea, and everything was going to be over.

Except that he couldn’t get the idea out of his head as he stared at the ceiling, sleep refusing to overtake him. The idea wouldn’t even leave him alone as he leapt across the streets of Gotham, keeping an eye out for crime.

If he brought Marinette to the gala with him, all the reporters would get off his back.

But then again, Marinette would never have peace again, and he couldn’t do that to her... Right...?

“Morning.” Damian greeted her the next day, dressed in a dark green hoodie. To anyone else, it would seem like a normal hoodie, but in reality, it was his favourite hoodie. ‘NDC’ was stitched in with golden thread on the inside of the sweater- The work of his favourite coffee shop owner. She had gave it to him after two months of their discreet friendship, and it was one of his most valued possessions.

"Morning," She replied with a gentle smile, her eyes morphing into little crescents as she did so. "The usual?" Her fingers never stopped moving, constantly wiping the counter clean or preparing a cup of warm milk. It was just one of the things he found adorable admirable.

"Yeah."

Before he could think, his mouth acted on its own. “Do you think you could be my date for the gala?” He blurted out suddenly, freezing when her movements came to an abrupt stop. Bluebell eyes slowly flicked up to his emerald ones, his heart jumping out of his ribs when those soft orbs stared into his. “You don’t have to say yes, I was just wondering-”

“Okay.”

He could feel his heart fluttering happily as she smiled, her eyes twinkling in bluebell crescents and her lips a soft curve.

“If you don’t mind, could I maybe go as... You know.” She asked shyly, brushing one of her hair strands behind her ears. “I know you want a date because... Well.” She laughed. “The attention, but I was hoping I could go as... Nette instead of... Well, plain ol’ Mari.”

“You’re not plain.” He responded instantly like a reflex action, tone cutting but soft at the same time. “But if you want to go as... It’s your choice. And... Thank you. For understanding.”

The smile she returned him was worth more than a thousand dollars, he thought.

---

Slicking his hair into a neat, presentable style, Damian checked his appearance in the mirror for the last time. The day of the gala had arrived, and they had already discussed all the details of the night over text. They would pretend to be a couple so that the reporters would finally get off Damian’s back, and ‘Nette’ would get her first appearance in public- They had both agreed that Marinette would wear a mask in order to preserve her identity, so that she could stay in a quiet world for just a little longer before she planned her official debut to the world.

The suit felt soft to the touch, a silk moisture across the shiny surface of the dark fabric. Gold threads wrapped around the jade green that Marinette had chosen as the accent of the suit. A jade tie with the same golden embroidery accompanied the suit and the dark-moss green dress-shirt that he had on underneath. ‘NDC’ was stitched carefully in the same cursive lettering that it was on the corner of the suit, the trademark of the designer’s handiwork.

Not wanting to answer his family’s pestering questions, Damian slipped out of the house, acknowledging and thanking whatever deity out there for the wonderful man named Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred gave Damian a knowing smile, handing him the keys to his new car. “Thank you.” The youngest Wayne thanked the butler, the keys jingling in his hands.

“Treat her like the lady she is.” Alfred advised him, stepping forward to adjust the emerald-eyed man’s tie. There was a quiet, lingering thought inside the older man’s head, but after one more glance at the nervous young adult with a cold outer shell, he decided against the remark.

The car engine rumbled to life with a purr, pulling out of the garage. Alfred watched as the tail lights disappeared into the evening, the thought still clear in his mind.

He’s in love and he doesn’t even realise it.

---

“Hey.”

She opened the door with a smile- God, she never stopped smiling, did she? A little twirl showed off her dress, made in the same palette as his suit. Jade green and moss green strips of thick fabric made the dress blossom into a flower shape around her ankles. The top half of the dress hugged her curves in all the right ways, a braided rope going over her neck to hold the dress up. The sleeveless-ness of the dress showed off the smooth skin of the designer, not to mention her striking, sharp collarbones that were on full display.

“You look beautiful.” He managed, knowing full well it was a lie that he had just uttered. She wasn’t beautiful, god, no. She was absolutely stunning and gorgeous, and he would give anything to keep that smile on her lips. He had to mutter up all of his resistance and self-control to prevent himself from reaching out to stroke her soft, dark hair.

“Thank you.” The smile would’ve made him melt into a Damian-shaped puddle, except he had a date and he would have to wait until the night was over to melt into a puddle. “Shall we?”

He offered her his arm, like the gentleman his dad butler had taught and raised him to be. The feeling of her soft skin in his hands made roses flower over his cheeks, his heart beat a little louder, and the affectionate feeling in his chest double in size.

The drive to the gala was the most interesting car ride he ever had. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he listened to her sing to the songs on the radio, occasionally joining in shyly, both their voices dancing in an intricate dance of harmony. Her laugh tinkled like wind chimes; her smile glowed like the moon on a clear night; her voice soothed his soul like a warm bowl of soup. There was absolutely nothing on his mind but her and her only.

“Are you ready?” He asked, pulling up in front of the gala’s entrance. Reaching for the mask on her lap, he placed in on her gently, careful not to tug on her hair as he adjusted it.

“For our fake date?” She giggled. “As I’ll ever be.”

A smile danced on his lips as he pushed the car door open, for once, not annoyed by the bright flashes of the cameras. He wanted the world to know how amazing Marinette Dupain-Cheng was, and he wanted her to rise to top of the fashion world and beyond. There was nothing that would make him feel more honoured than the fact that he would be the one that introduced her to the world, watching as she took over the rest of the fashion kingdom like the queen she was.

“M’lady.” He whispered, pulling her car door open as he offered his hand for her, bowing slightly. Whispers clouded the air, quickly replaced by gasps as Marinette took it gracefully, stepping out with the aura of a goddess. He planted a light kiss on her palm, emerald eyes bright and soft in the dying light of the evening.

“Thank you. Shall we?” She smiled in return, never removing her hand from his grasp.

He nodded to her, gesturing for the valet to take his car away, tossing the man the keys. He normally wouldn’t trust anyone else with his car, but at the moment, escorting to beautiful bluenette was the only priority in his mind.

Because she was the only thing that mattered, after all.

---

Funnily enough, he didn’t feel triumphant at all.

Damian had thought that if he got a woman to pretend to be his girlfriend, well, he would enjoy the disappointed looks on the fathers’ faces and the burning anger in the girls’ eyes. Well, it wasn’t the case at all.

He was absolutely mesmerised with the designer next to him, who was talking gracefully to the CEO of one of Gotham’s fashion magazines. She was the definition of grace, beauty, and poise. Everything about her said goddess. She practically radiated power into the room, even when she didn’t realise it. There was a calm to her that made her seem like a cool-headed queen, and boy he would be willing to be her knight any day.

“I’m going to go get some wine.” He whispered to her, arm looping around her waist naturally. They truly did give off the ‘dating’ vibe, but he was too absorbed in her to notice.

“Okay.” She smiled, only this time it made him feel something else. No, not just a little flutter of his stomach, or a resounding thump of his heart. In fact, the first thought going through his head was that he wished, hoped, prayed that he could wake up to that smile for the rest of his life. He could picture it in his mind- Her, curled in his arms, her dark hair spreading into an intricate net behind her, eyes closed softly.

He could see her eyes fluttering open, see her yawn and stretch before nestling back into his embrace, only this time her eyes were open and there was a loving smile on her lips, and she was speaking.

“Morning, love.”

It took him a moment to realise that he had been stupidly standing there after stating that he was going to get them some drinks. Both the CEO and Marinette stared at him expectantly, wondering why he had suddenly got into a daze.

He found a waiter, easily plucking two wine glasses from the man’s tray before making his way through the crowd, who parted for him like the red sea parted for Moses. It was infuriating; He couldn’t get the picture out of his head. Her, nestled into his arms... No, they were on a fake date, and it was only for one sole purpose... It wasn’t as if he liked her... Right?

Wrong.

---

He made a mistake.

It wasn’t until after the night ended that he begin to feel the pain. His heart ached when she left, thanking him for the night. For the next few days, photos of Damian Wayne and the mysterious, masked Nette clouded the cover pages of magazines, reminding him over and over of that one night that he got to live.

His family hadn’t stopped pestering him about what in the world happened, Damian, and after Tim had found out Nette’s identity through the batcomputer’s wide database, it didn’t take long for the rest of the family to piece ‘Damian-might’ve-fell-in-love-with-a-cafe-shop-owner-who-happens-to-be-a-world-wide-famous-designer’ together.

“You should ask her on a real date sometime soon, Master Wayne.” Alfred told him offhandedly as Damian strolled into the kitchen. The butler was busy polishing wine glasses, placing them neatly back onto the shelf when he was done.

“It’s kind of too late.” He muttered quietly, sinking onto the chair, the soft fabric of the dark green sweater comforting him.

Alfred sighed, placing down the glass with a sonorous clink. “It’s never too late for anything, Master Wayne. Not if you take the chance and make a move.” Damian met the older man’s eyes for a second, realising what he needed to do. It was as if someone had took a lighter and relit the candle in his heart.

“I’m going out, Alfred.” He said abruptly, never pausing to see the proud smile on the older man’s face. “I don’t think I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Noted, Master Wayne. Your car keys are on the counter in the living room.”

---

He didn’t bother to pull on his hoodie, barging through the back door of the Lucky Cat Cafe before turning back on second thought, closing the door gently, muttering a sorry to the poor door that just got kicked open in the heat of the moment.

“Why are you apologising to a door?” Her laugh sounded behind her, the woman giving him an amused look.

“I... Kicked it open.” He admitted, before remembering what he had come to do. “Marinette.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yeah?”

“I know the gala was a fake date, and we did it because it benefitted the both of us, but-!” He caught himself, realising that for once he was doing something without a plan. “But I don’t want that.”

She stared at him blankly. “Um... That’s fine. We didn’t tell the media we were dating, it could’ve been a one-time thing...”

“No!” He burst out, his heart nearly overflowing with emotions. “It took me a long time, but I-! I want to date you. For real. And take you out. And do the sappy things that Grayson does with his girlfriend. And take care of you. I want to date you for real.”

Her mouth was open in an ‘o’, and he wondered briefly if he broke her. Then a smile slipped across her lips, and he could see it again- Both of them, sharing a home, sharing a life, and then a child with dark blue hair and emerald eyes-

“Okay.”

---

sjskjsks I was so worried about the plot!!! Was it choppy? And in the words of my ninth grade english teacher, did it lack fLoW??? I’m so sorry if it didn’t live up to expectations, I lost where I was going with this-

On another note I have this headcannon that the two students and old couple always knew that he was Damian Wayne, they were just ‘oh he’s totally in love with Mari, this is really sweet and we’re going to stick around and watch’ and when he asked her out for the gala he was actually being really loud and they were all just legit eavesdropping and the two students going ‘jskjskjkjkjs he finally asked her out oh my god the ship is sailing’ and the old couple going ‘aww how sweet’ and ‘my boy finally got his courage together, so proud of him even tho im not his dad but still’.

Anyways I was thinking of another way to get around the MDC nickname for Mari as a designer and I thought Nette would be a cool name for her, and DC stands for Design and Clothing.

Once again thanks for sending in the request, sorry that it took so long bby <3

Requests are open, just head over to my blog, check out the rules and specifications, then shoot your request right into my inbox, I’ll be waiting.

Also I’m watching Haikyu and I am IN LOVE with those babies, gonna start writing fics and opening up requests for the Haikyu fandom once I get a better grip on the characters’ personality.

Okay, I’ve been talking too much. Bye and thanks for sticking around to the very end, lol. I can be quite talkative when I’m typing anddd I’m just going to stop now before I write another paragraph

- Cady

#daminette #damianwayne #marinettedupaincheng #feel free to drown me with requests y'all #requests #Cady's requests #cady writesss «#cadyh2o

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piccolini-cuscino · 4 years ago

Text

Getting to the truth: part two

After confessing your feelings for each other at the Wayne Foundation gala, you and Bruce finally have your first date. But it’s doomed right from the start!

Notes: So I ran out of time writing this part, there will be a part three, finishing this up. Prepare yourself for some dorky, nervous rich guy Bruce Wayne.

Mornings were tiresome when you were Bruce Wayne’s assistant. Even more so now that you knew exactly why he came home at 7am with scarlet knuckles and black and blue galaxies underneath his eyes. He took some time to clean himself up, half an hour exactly, while you had your intern – Sarah – fetch him breakfast that he never ate and more coffee than any mere mortal could tolerate.

Sometimes, you’d steal a few moments alone with him in his office. He’d often just sit there with his fingers raking through his hair and his gaze fixed on the mahogany surface right underneath his nose. Hunched over in his own little world.

“Rough night?” you asked, moving behind him. You had grown so used to him flinching away that you barely noticed the jolt of pain that seared through his body when you rubbed his shoulders.

“It’s always a rough night.”

“Have you found him? That zodiac-looking guy?”

He shook his head. “No. No one can decode his ciphers. They’re calling him The Riddler.”

“And did you manage to get any sleep last night?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Maybe you should.” You continued kneading his shoulders, keeping one eye on the door. “A night off might help you think straight.”

“Not while he’s out there.”

“There’s another reason.”

Bruce spun around in his chair, pausing just long enough for you to crawl on to his lap. He grimaced, but, in that moment, mischief took over.

Curling those dirty dark strands of hair around your fingertips, you pouted. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Mr Wayne.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed as much as the pain would allow. With his eyes batting back and forth, he sorted through every fleeting interaction with you, beyond work and beyond what he got up to in the night. And then, his features lightened. “Oh…”

At the exact second Bruce’s memory decided to cooperate, Sarah burst into the office – three coffees in hand – and you flung yourself from Bruce’s lap. He swiftly returned to brooding into the shiny surface of his desk, while you thanked Sarah for the coffees. With your boss sufficiently caffeinated for the morning, you turned to leave him alone before his meeting. But then, as the elevator doors began to close, a pristine black oxford wedged the gap.

“Can you get these invoices over to Payroll for me please?” Bruce smirked, dumping a mountain of paper in your arms.

“Sure,” you blustered. “I’ll get Sarah to–“

“I want you,” he paused, clearing his throat, “to take care of these.”

As the door closed again, you couldn’t be sure, but you swore you caught him winking. He must have done, judging by the Sarah’s wide eyes. You didn’t say a word, though; you just stared down at the paperwork in your grasp.

And then, peeking out from the pile was an uncharacteristically pink Post-it note – one of your own – bearing Bruce’s illegible scrawl. You slipped it out and squinted, trying to decipher what exactly he was trying to tell you. You knew one person who could, though.

“Hey, Alfred!” you called, strolling up to him in the lobby.

“How can I help you today, Miss?”

“Mr Wayne left me a note and I have no idea what it says,” you laughed. “I know it’s ridiculous, but he always just texts or emails. Can you help me, please?”

As he took the note, Alfred laughed. “I don’t suppose they teach cursive anymore, do they?”

You shrugged and shook your head. “Is it anything important?”

With his glasses perched on the end of his nose, he read the note aloud like the town crier. “Sorry, I forgot. Dinner. 8pm. I’ll be in the kitchen. Don’t tell Alfred.” And then he looked at you with his brows raised. “I think I’ll have the night off, then.”

You almost didn’t show. As silly as it sounded, agonising over every small detail of your appearance made you want to call him up and cancel. You didn’t want to mess it up. But then, cancelling would have done that for you. In the end, in a fit of rage at your wardrobe, you went for jeans and a nice shirt. You always saw Bruce puttering around wearing something similar if he wasn’t working or playing dress up on a school night. But even then, you wondered if it was too casual for what he had in mind.

The monologue in your brain just droned and droned all the way to the manor. You barely remembered the drive there, only that it was raining again. Like it always did. Parked out front, you stole a few final moments to yourself. A pep talk. A few deep breaths.

And a knock at the window that made you jump out of your skin.

Bruce never left the manor when he retired there for the night – not in plain clothes anyway. But there he was on the drive, in dark jeans and a white shirt, peering through the window with a grin. “You’re late,” he remarked.

You glanced his way with a coy look. “I’m nervous.”

“Come on,” he said, opening the car door, “what do you have to be nervous about? We’re friends. We know each other.”

You stepped out and looked up at him. Dark remnants of his warpaint had clumped underneath his eyelashes. Now you knew why he went AWOL on all his meetings that afternoon. “This is different, Bruce. I like you. Really like you.”

Bruce’s hands found their way to your waist as he loomed closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know.” You could have stayed in that moment forever, but a growl from your stomach perked up the corners of Bruce’s lips. He kissed the tip of your nose and moved away. “I think I said something about dinner. Let’s get inside before it burns.”

You followed Bruce through the unfamiliar labyrinth in the bowels of Wayne Manor towards the kitchen – never had you strayed beyond the study or the ballroom. Neither had Bruce, judging by the way he paused at every turn, reciting Alfred’s directions aloud. Never once did he let go of your hand. Finally, when that delicious smell wafted through the halls, Bruce gave up on memory and followed his nose.

“Come on in,” he said, pulling out a chair. “Here, let me get you some wine. Alfred brought some up from the cellar, I hope red’s all right?”

Bruce was nervous.

He moved around the kitchen, bumping into everything in his path, opening wine, pulling up his sleeves, matting his hair down. And he had barely said a word, except to himself.

“Are you ok, Bruce?”

Bruce turned to you with his mouth hanging open. “Yeah,” he said, gloving up his right hand with an oven mitt. “Do you like lasagne? I swore you said you liked lasagne once.”

You nodded and pointed towards the oven as smoke trickled out from the door. “I’m not a fan of burnt lasagne though.”

“Fuck!”

As soon as Bruce opened the oven door, the entire kitchen became engulfed in a plume of dense grey smoke. You grabbed a towel, joining him as he waved his oven mitt in the air to clear it.

When the crisis was over, Bruce slumped down at the table and reached for the bottle of wine in the centre. He poured himself a glass and it was gone in a flash, leaving him to stare at you with rosy cheeks and a lost expression.

“Have you ever used an oven before?” you giggled.

“That’s a good question,” he said, shooting you an embarrassed smile. His eyes flitted from left to right, trying to recount the times, if any, he had actually visited the kitchen in his family home. “You know, I don’t even think I’ve been down here before today. That’s what I get for giving the staff a night off, though, right?”

You shrugged. “So, what’s plan B? I mean, as much as this is beautiful wine, I’m gonna need something more substantial.”

Bruce puffed out his cheeks. “I can’t remember the last time I had time to sit down and have dinner.”

Rolling your eyes, you drained the rest of your glass. “We know!”

“I can make…” Bruce trailed off, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the fridge. “Sandwiches? If you want?”

“Let’s order pizza. I don’t trust your cooking.”

#battinson #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #the batman #robert pattinson

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

The Little Things in Life - 6

Warnings: cheating, non-consent sex (series); toyplay

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Summary: Your suburban life begins to show cracks and your next door neighbour, Steve Rogers, seems intent on shattering what’s left.

Note: I’m a bit all over so forgive me if I bounce around but thank you to all of you lovely readers. Weekend might be a bit of a break for me and I am doing Sinday Drabble for Sunday. :D I do appreciate you all reading. Thanks to everyone for their feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Based on this drabble

You helped Sharon clean up after dinner. Well, you actually did most of the work. She was on her second margarita and you had filled your glass with water. She was regaling you as you washed the dishes with a story about how Hailey down the street had torn her pants in front of her very attractive trainer.

You wondered for a moment if it was inevitable. In this neighbourhood, as dulcet as it was, that one’s eye should wander eventually. Or was it some innate flaw of humanity? You finished drying up as Sharon showed you where it all went. You were reluctant to leave the shiny, marble kitchen.

Steve and Logan barely noticed as you and Sharon entered. Steve stood by the mantle over the artificial fireplace, his hand on the brick as he watched a dusty player slide for third. Logan grumbled at the out and adjusted the leather recliner. Sharon sat on the sofa and you followed her meekly; as if she could protect you.

“How about that selfie?” Steve’s eyes found you as his hand slid along the wooden mantle. He tapped the old metal propped up on its stand. “I promised.”

“Oh, you and your war toys.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “I never took trophies.”

“You never were much for sentiment,” Steve flicked two fingers for you to get up. “Come on.”

He lifted the helmet and the straps hung loosely. You glanced at Sharon and she rolled her eyes. She gulped a mouthful of the melted cocktail and you stood. You crossed to Steve and came up before him shyly. He lowered the heavy helmet onto your head. He fumbled with the straps, his fingers tickling your neck and chin as he did it up.

“Your phone?” He asked.

“Oh, shoot, it’s in my sweater,” You huffed as you reached up to the helmet.. “You know what, I don’t need the picture.”

“Stay here,” He held up a hand to stop you from moving. “Right back.”

He strode quickly into the hall and you waited quietly as Sharon finished her drink. Logan flicked to another game and you picked at your braided belt. Steve returned with your phone. He handed it to you and you swiftly unlocked it and gave it back.

“Smile,” He said.

He stepped back and framed you with the lens. You gave a thin smile and he snapped the photo. He took another and returned the phone to you. You thanked him quietly and loosed the strap under your chin. He removed the helmet and placed it back on the mantle.

“Now you can brag to all your friends,” He chimed and you went to sit on the sofa beside Sharon.

“Steve, I’m her friend,” Sharon snickered. “And I don’t care.”

He laughed but there was something in the glimmer of his eyes that told you it wasn’t genuine. He crossed his arms and paced across the room.

“I’m sure she has lots of friends,” He stopped just behind the corner of the couch where you sat. “I bought some ice cream bars for dessert if anyone’s interested.”

“I can’t,” Sharon replied. “I’m still shedding my baby weight.”

“I’ll have one,” Logan accepted. “And I’ll have hers too.”

“And you,” Steve tapped your shoulder.

“Sure,” You kept your head down. “Thank you.”

🏠

Logan was well past buzzed by the time you got home. You didn’t feel bad that he had to get up early for work the next day. He stumbled into bed on his own as you hung your sweater on the hook on the back of the door. Your hand brushed something hard in the shallow pocket and you stopped.

You’d already plugged in your phone as it sat on the night table. You peered over your shoulder and slowly reached into the pocket. Logan’s breaths got heavier and longer. You scooped out the tubular object and a paper fluttered to the floor. You knelt and turned the lipstick in your hand.

You stood and unfolded the square of paper. The border was framed in red and blue. The letters scratched across the white space was slanted cursive. ‘I hope you think of me as much as I think of you.’

You stared at the lipstick and popped the lid of. The tip was plastic and you felt along the end. You hit the small button there and it buzzed against your hand. You flinched and looked over at the bed. Logan was snoring.

You hit the button again and again. Several times before it stopped. You were mortified. You ripped up the small paper and tossed it away in the bathroom bin. You put the fake lipstick in your makeup box and shoved it back under the sink.

You went back into the bedroom and changed into your loose cotton nightie. You turned off the light and laid down next to your husband. Your phone vibrated beside you and you ignored it. It vibed again and you sighed. You grabbed it, careful not to unplug it and looked at the screen.

‘Lights out, honey,’ The number was unknown but you could guess at the sender. ‘Hope you have fun with your new toy.’

You deleted the text and muted your phone. You placed it face down and rolled onto your stomach. You should’ve drank more; at least then, you would be able to sleep.

🏠

Logan left early. You stayed in bed until he was gone, pretending to sleep as you heard him downstairs. You drank your coffee as you stared at the fridge. The drawing Kayla had made for you weeks ago hung from a flower-shaped magnet. You smiled as your eyes pricked.

How had everything gone to shit so fast?

Your mother said she’d bring Kayla back just before dinner. A day alone was a rare luxury but now it was purgatory. You needed the distraction of your daughter’s insatiable curiosity. You could work and keep your mind on your computer. At this rate, you’d be ahead of schedule. Ahead of schedule and listless, great.

You leaned back in your chair as your eyes turned bleary from staring at the monitor. You touched your temples and the wheels squeaked as you pressed yourself against the worn pleather. You sighed and dropped your arms. Your mind flew back to all the thoughts you were avoiding, not that they ever truly relented.

“Busy?” Steve’s voice frightened you.

You nearly overturned the chair as you spun around and rolled it back until it was touching the desk. You gripped the arms as your lip trembled.

“What the hell? How did you get in here?” You snarled.

He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed and one foot leaned against the other.

“Looks like you’ve got an empty house.” He commented.

“I… have to go get Kayla soon,” You lied. “You should go.”

He smirked and hooked his thumb in the top of his jeans pocket.

“Hey, I just came over to chat,” He said.

“And you just walk in without knocking?” You asked.

He chuckled and stood straight.

“I texted you.” He raised his eyebrows as he came closer. “You didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, that’s usually a hint.” You stood up. “Go. Now.” You reached behind you for your phone just beside your keyboard. “I will call the police.”

“Why, officer, she asked me to help her out with some stuff around the house? You know, he husband’s never home and she has a broken faucet. I was just being neighbourly,” He feigned innocence as he neared. “Then she just… well, I guess she was lonely and when I reminded her that I had a wife, that she’s married too, she just changed. So angry.”

“You’re insane,” You breathed. “Fine, I’ll call Logan.”

“Do you think he’d leave her to come sate your paranoia? Do you think he’d believe you?”

“Please, I’m begging you, leave me alone. I have a daughter. I can’t--”

“Shhh,” He was before you in an instant, his hands on your arms. He eased you back to your chair and pushed until you sat. “I just want you to answer a few questions, honey.”

“You’re really scaring me,” You leaned into the chair as if you could dissolve into it. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like the way your ass looks when you’re bent over my pool table,” He retorted as he stood and his hands went to his hips. “Now, let’s calm down.”

You watched him pace back and forth. He looked at the framed flowers along your wall. A rose from your wedding bouquet hung by the window. You stood and he turned quickly. He was on you before you could reach the door. He wrestled you back to the chair and sat you down. He knelt in front of you, his hands on your thighs as he held you in place.

“No,” He warned as his eyes bore into yours. “So… did you use it?”

Your lips parted. You were breathless. You shook your head and his tongue poked out between his lips. His fingers kneaded your thighs. You still wore the night shirt you’d slept in, they barely concealed the polka-dot panties beneath.

“Did you want to?” He asked.

You frowned and blinked at him.

“Honey, just answer me.” He coaxed.

You looked down at his hands, his fingers rubbing along the hem of your nightie. You bit your lip as he squeezed your legs and you nodded. Your stomach was in knots.

“Use your words,” He urged.

You kept your chin down. “Yes,” You quavered. “Okay?”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Steve, stop,” You grabbed his hands as they crawled higher. “Go home. To Sharon. Your daughter.”

“I would if Sharon would let me,” He sneered and you glanced up at him. “We just got into some spat about her return to work. You know, she’ll find any little thing to bitch at me about. I give her everything and what do I get?”

“She’s still your wife,” You argued. “And I still have a husband.”

He tilted his head and his face darkened. He stood slowly and let out a long breath.

“Where is it?” He asked.

“What?”

“The toy.”

You swallowed and shivered at the tone of his voice.

“The bathroom attached to my room. Under the sink in the make-up bag.” You said quietly. “Upstairs. Second door on the left.”

He smiled again and took careful steps towards the door. He turned back as he gripped the door frame.

“Stay here.” He ordered. “I don’t want to have to stop you, honey. And you don’t want that either.”

His knuckles whitened as the door frame groaned. The trim suddenly fell away in his hand and his eyes rounded.

“Oops,” He said dryly. “Don’t worry, I can fix that.”

He left and you listened to the soft creak of the stairs. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You clamped your lips shut and looked around the room. You reached for your phone. Your finger hovered over ‘emergency call’. His words replayed in your head. You didn’t need Kayla coming home to cop cars.

You set your phone down as you heard him coming. He entered with the faux lipstick and twirled it between his fingers. You made to stand and he tutted.

“Stay,” He said. “I told you.”

You sat back and clung to the arms of the chair. He got to his knees again and you shuddered. He touched your knees and you pushed your legs together tightly. The vibe pressed against your skin and he pushed harder.

“Honey,” He cooed. “Don’t make this difficult. I can tell by the way you’re shaking how bad you want it.”

“I don’t--” You gasped as he pulled your legs apart. He was terrifyingly strong.

He rolled the vibe along your inner leg as he shushed you. His eyes followed his hands as they crawled up your thighs. He pressed the toy against the front of your panties and clicked the button. You inhaled sharply and your nails dug into the arms of the chair.

“Please, Steve, I have to--”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said as his other hand slipped under your shirt. “I just want to make you feel good.”

He tickled your stomach and cupped your breast. He moved the vibe against your panties and you let out a wispy moan. The friction sent a buzz through you and you closed your eyes in shame. You threw your head back as he clicked the button again and the toy sped up. He flicked and teased your nipple as your heart raced. You felt as if you were floating, waiting for the steep descent.

Your orgasm shook you. The noise which escaped you was strangled and desperate. Your legs closed around Steve’s hand and you arched your back as you topped the peak. You panted as he slowly drew away, dragging his fingers along your panties as your cum soaked through them.

“Take your panties off,” He stood and admired the wet toy. “Now.”

You hesitated but his blue eyes startled you as he turned his attention on you. They were dark, dilated. You rose and shakily rolled the cotton down your legs. You lifted them and Steve snatched them from you.

“Something to tide me over,” He smiled as he tucked them into his pocket. His jeans could barely restrain his erection. He shoved the vibe into your hand. “And you, too.”

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #au #suburban au #the little things in life #series #mcu #marvel #captain america

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artificialqueens · 3 years ago

Text

Galactica, Chapter 70 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Raja and Raven had a little office tryst, Violet planned for some overtime, and Courtney decided to take her work to Bianca’s for the night.

This Chapter: Bianca worries, Dahlia and Adore have a showdown, Gigi and Symone have a night in, and Team Baby has a night out.

***

Bianca had just finished laying out the takeout and was opening a bottle of wine when she heard the gentle click of Courtney’s footsteps down the hall.

“B?”

“I’m in the den!” Bianca called out, grinning when Courtney appeared in the doorway, an overstuffed banker’s box in her arms. Bianca eyed her up, appreciating her good little assistant ensemble, which she knew from the photos earlier concealed deeply naughty lingerie. “Hi, baby. Are you hungry? I got By Chloe.”

Courtney smiled, putting down the box and kicking off her heels. “You know, you don’t have to eat vegan food all the time just because of me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Come here.” Bianca set down the full wine glasses, reaching her arms towards Courtney, who collapsed beside her on the sofa, clearly exhausted. Bianca pulled her close for a soft kiss, then wrapped her into an embrace. “Long day?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney snuggled against her, nuzzling into her neck. After letting out a deep sigh, she mumbled, “I gotta get back to work.”

“You should eat first,” Bianca reasoned.

“Okay.” Courtney sighed again, making no move to escape her arms.

“Or we could just lie down for a bit.” Bianca ran a hand through her hair.

“No.” Courtney pulled back with a groan, rubbing her eyes. “If I do that, I’ll never finish.”

She slid to the ground, kneeling in front of the coffee table, and began unpacking the box. Labels, cards, envelopes, highlighters, a spreadsheet full of notes...It all looked like a huge pain in the ass to Bianca. Unlike most of her friends, Bianca actually had done this kind of tedious administrative work back when she was starting out, and just seeing it made her skin start to itch.

She turned her attention to the food, quietly making up a plate for Courtney and sliding it over to her.

“Thanks,” Courtney said gratefully, resting her head against Bianca’s knee. “You’re the best.”

“You deserve an actual dinner break,” Bianca said, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to overstep.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m not gonna be able to relax until this stuff is done.”

“Fair enough,” Bianca said, attempting to feed her a piece of a zucchini fritter. She took it, playfully biting Bianca’s finger in the process. “She’s running you ragged, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know, it might just be me. I’m not really keeping up with things the way I should,” Courtney explained. “Maybe it’s the weather. I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”

“Not ready for the New York winter?” Bianca asked, playing gently with her hair.

“No, guess not,” Courtney said. “I just...hear Christmas music and want to go to the beach.”

Bianca laughed, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Ah. Southern hemisphere problems?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, well...I’ll do my best to keep you warm,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled, fluttering her lashes up at her before going back to her work.

It made sense that the weather would get to her. Spending her whole childhood in Australia and then college in San Diego must have done little to prepare her for how cold and dreary New York got in the winter. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that she hadn’t even seen the worst of it--January was bound to be even colder. It gave her an idea, though, so while Courtney continued working, Bianca shot off a text to her travel agent.

Once she had the ball rolling with Victoria, she looked back at Courtney’s progress, chuckling to herself over the custom stamps--not only that, but they were clearly winter themed, the Galactica logo covered in glittering icicles.

“What are you laughing at?” Courtney asked, diligently checking each name off her spreadsheet as she went.

“The stamps. They’re so Fame.” Bianca picked one up, looking it over.

“Oh yeah. Cute, huh?” Courtney said, sticking down a label.

“Very. So...do I get a card this year?”

“Yeah, but you’re in a different category.”

“The shithouse category?” Bianca guessed.

“No. You’re getting a gift.” Courtney turned to grin at her. “So I can deal with you on Monday.”

“Do you have the card?” Bianca asked, now curious. If she was still getting a gift, then maybe Fame wasn’t as angry as she seemed on Tuesday.

“Yeah, hang on.” Courtney combed carefully through one of the stacks, pulling out Bianca’s card.

A post-it was affixed to the front that said ‘Cristal.’ Not too bad. Bianca actually felt a bit optimistic until she opened the card. There was the typical printed message. At the top, in Fame’s loopy cursive, she’d written, ‘Bianca,’ which was bad enough--no ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ as usual. But worse, the bottom, which simply read ‘Regards, Fame.’

Oof.

A slightly sick feeling curled in Bianca’s stomach, that she tried to ignore by joking, “Well, at least she didn’t write ‘fuck you.’”

“You left her dinner party before they served dinner. You knew she’d be mad, right?” Courtney said.

“I know, I know…” Bianca set the card back on the table, watching as Courtney put it back into the right stack, then continued carefully peeling labels off the sheet and sticking them on the envelopes.

“I’m sorry, though. I feel a little responsible.”

“That’s true, this is all your fault. For being too damn irresistible.”

Courtney laughed as Bianca settled back against the sofa cushions, when suddenly, a thought flashed through her head.

“So uh, just out of curiosity, what does Anna Wintour’s card say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Courtney giggled.

“Come on…”

“No! That’s a federal offense!”

“I’ll risk the jail time. Please?” Bianca wheedled, reaching out towards the box. “She’s my competition, I have to know!”

“No!” Courtney slapped her hand away.

“Not sure why you’re being so protective of Anna Wintour,” Bianca grumbled.

“Well, I’m seeing her on the side,” Courtney quipped, then tossed a gleeful look back at Bianca, adding, “What can I say? I like older women.”

“Very funny.” Bianca pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t help be charmed at how proud Courtney looked of herself in that moment.

“Awww, B…” Courtney climbed up onto the sofa, straddling her. “You know I love you. And only you.”

“Yeah?” Bianca found it impossible to keep pretending to pout with Courtney so close, so soft, smelling so good. Her dimples deepened, against her will, as Courtney kissed along her jaw to her neck.

“Yeah…” Courtney started to suck gently on her pulse point as Bianca’s fingers traveled up her thighs, disappearing under her skirt.

“Hmm, if you say so…”

“B, we really can’t,” Courtney began breathlessly, “I have to keep working, or-”

“Or what?” Bianca growled, voice low, the telltale shiver making her even bolder, fingers edging along the lace of her panties, the ones that had kept Bianca drooling over her photos all afternoon.

“Or I...” Courtney’s own fingers dug into Bianca’s shoulders, whimpering, “Oh, Anna.”

“Get offa me!” Bianca barked, shoving her playfully as she laughed and laughed. “Finish your damn cards.”

***

“What are you doing here?” Dahlia asked, irritated. She had just arrived at the warehouse for their band’s gig, her bass strapped to her back, and before she’d even spotted Adore, Aja or Alex, she’d seen Pearl, holding court by the bar with a couple of hangers-on, a heavy camera against her hip.

“Working,” Pearl said, gesturing to the camera that was slung over her shoulder. “Gotta stay up to date with the trends.”

Dahlia put her hands on her hips, unable to buy that she was there by accident. “Oh yeah, you just randomly decided to come here tonight, where we’d randomly be performing?”

“Pretty awesome coincidence, huh?” Pearl asked, a sparkle in her blue eyes that Dahlia would probably have found charming if she wasn't so pissed. “Someone upstairs must really love me.”

“Come on. This isn’t cool. The club is one thing, but this is my real life.”

“Not everything is about you, Dahlia,” Pearl said, rolling her eyes, and Dahlia found herself getting even angrier.

Why couldn’t Pearl just keep whatever stupid thing was going on between them in a box, like she could?

Of course she was sexy, and fun, and in another lifetime, Dahlia might even have let herself fall for her--but the reality of the situation was that she didn’t have that luxury, and seeing her here only confused things.

“How do you think Adore will feel if she sees you?” Dahlia asked, trying not to get distracted by her tongue playing coyly with the straw.

“I don’t know, but where do you think we met in the first place? At a party just like this one. We’re gonna run into each other, it’s a small town.”

“Actually, it’s not a small town, it’s a big ass city. But you are a huge dick,” Dahlia said, flouncing away. The fucking nerve of her.

Of course, as expected, the first thing Adore asked when she finally reached the group was, “What were you doing talking to Pearl?”

Ugh. This was gonna be a bitch to explain.

“Well, she’s sort of been...coming to the club. While I’m working.”

“Like…” the wheels turned in Adore’s head, finally guessing, “Like to hit on you?”

“I guess, in a way, but not exactly. She’s just like, a client. Who unfortunately knows my real name, so…” Dahlia shrugged. “It’s good money, you know?”

“That’s…” Adore seemed to be searching for the right words, her brow furrowed, her lips turned down in a frown. “That’s fucked, Dahlia. She’s my ex.”

“It’s my job, Adore.” Dahlia could find herself getting impatient. This wasn’t something she expected Adore to understand. Adore didn’t even have to work. Her sister gave her money to fuck around and focus all her time and energy on her music. But still, it should be obvious that Dahlia’s life wasn’t charmed like Adore’s; she worked her ass off, literally. “And she may suck, but she’s a hell of a lot better than the disgusting, mouth-breathing dudes I usually have to strip for!”

“So,” Adore stepped closer, crossing her arms. “Not only are you stripping for my ex-girlfriend, and doing god knows what else-”

“Watch it, bitch-”

“But you’re like, enjoying it?” Adore demanded, and Dahlia very much did not appreciate her tone.

“I didn’t say that! She’s just like, not hideous, and usually-” Dahlia stopped. “You know what, fuck this, I don’t have to explain myself to you, you privileged fuck!”

“Are you fucking-”

“Guys, guys, guys, what the hell is going on?” Alex cut in far too late to actually stop the runaway train. “Can you both chill, we have to play a set in like 20 minutes.”

“Yeah guys, chill,” Aja added halfheartedly, though from the look on their face, they seemed to be enjoying the show, watching with one eyebrow raised while sipping a beer.

“I’m not playing with her!” Adore exclaimed, stomping her foot like the spoiled baby she was. “She’s a fucking traitor, and a slut, and-”

“Go fuck yourself!” Dahlia shouted back, turning and storming off for the second time that night, through the crowd, all the way back to Pearl, who was chatting casually with some girl, completely oblivious to the shitstorm that she’d created.

Pearl looked up at Dahlia, at her heaving chest and flushed cheeks, and smiled. “Hi, cupcake. Back for more banter?”

“Shut up!” Dahlia said, stepping forward. “Just shut up.”

“Okay, baby.” Pearl’s eyes drifted from Dahlia’s eyes down to her lips, and then back up. They were standing close now, and Dahlia knew that Pearl could feel her pounding heartbeat. She tangled her hands into Pearl’s perfectly tousled blonde hair, grabbing fistsfuls of it as she pressed their lips together.

Pearl immediately responded--either she didn’t know that Dahlia was mostly doing this to make a point to Adore, or she didn’t care, kissing her back with passion, hands gripping her waist. When they broke apart, panting, Dahlia asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Pearl responded, with a grin that said she very much thought Dahlia would ask. Dahlia rolled her eyes, anxious to wipe that stupid smirk right off her face.

“I told you to shut up. Come on, you’re paying for the cab.”

She grabbed Pearl’s wrist, pulling her from the crowded warehouse without so much as a glance back at Adore or her pathetic face.

***

Hearing Dahlia gasp and moan was so satisfying, Pearl thought she might come just from listening to it. Her face was buried in her pussy, savoring the taste of her, tongue not resting until her hips finally stilled and whimpers began to sound from Pearl licking her clit in its oversensitive state. Pearl pressed one more kiss to her lower belly before sitting up, gazing at her sprawled on the bed.

She was as sinfully sexy as ever--even sweaty and disheveled, her hair and makeup were still a dream, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks, dark curls spread out around her head. Her bra was half on, tits pulled out of the cups, nipples pert and erect. Pearl lay down next to her, propped up on her elbow, trailing a hand over her heated skin.

“How’re you feeling, cupcake?”

“No complaints,” Dahlia panted out, her perfect tits rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh no? That’s good.” Pearl grinned.

“How ‘bout you? Was it everything you imagined?” Dahlia asked, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry tone.

“And more…” Pearl leaned forward, kissing her cheek once more before before heaving herself up. She searched the dimly lit room for her clothes, wondering how and when her left shoe got flung so far away from the bed.

When she was fully dressed, she turned back to Dahlia, who had caught her breath and was now sitting up, watching her with those dark, cat-like eyes. She saw by Dahlia’s slightly puzzled expression that she was perhaps expecting her to stay longer, and couldn’t help but feel like that was a win.

“So...I guess I’ll see you at the club?” Pearl said, eyes sweeping over her body once more, trying to memorize every inch of her in that delectable state. “No extra funny business, but you know I love wing night.”

“Sure,” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Or…” she bit her lip, looking Pearl square in the eye, fearless and fierce. “If you want, you could have my number.”

Victory at last.

Pearl grinned, feeling like the cat that ate the canary. “Sounds great, doll.”

***

“What about this one?” Violet looked over at Max, who was holding up a beige suit jacket with peonies in shades of pink.

“Maybe…” Violet bit her lip, but she knew it wasn’t what she was looking for. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Max smiled, putting the jacket back on the rack, the coffee Violet had bought for him in his other hand. “We’ll find something.”

They were in the Gucci store, Max kind enough to tag along with her when she had texted and asked if he had time to help her out, getting around Manhattan on crutches by herself an absolute nightmare.

When they had arrived, the store clerk had given both of them a disdainful, and Violet was pretty sure that he would have kicked them out if it wasn’t for her Dior purse and how cearly expensive Max’s shoes where, the sharp taste of shame in her mouth when she had nearly stumbled on the store steps because of the snow.

“I know I’m being difficult,” Violet looked around. “I just need…”

Violet hadn’t really planned on getting Sutan anything more than socks, no matter what Raven had suggested, a novelty pair with croissants on them hidden on the bottom of her underwear drawer, but when she had gotten home yesterday, she had seen a regular mountain of designer boxes and bags all stacked high on Sutan’s designated dumping spot in the kitchen.

She knew it probably didn’t matter to him, that Sutan would love the socks, her gift to his mother and Raja and Raven much more extravagant, but she refused to accept anything designer and give socks in return. It wasn’t a smart financial decision, actually, it was bordering on downright idiotic, but she had spent so little on food staying at Sutan’s that she could almost work it in.

“Let’s go look at the sweaters.”

***

“Okay, so, I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but whoever said that this,” Symone shook the big red bowl of popcorn she had in her lap, “tastes like regular old popcorn, is a liar.”

“Come on.” Gigi smiled. “It’s not that bad.”

She and Symone were sitting on the living room couch, The Muppet Christmas Carol playing on the TV, the modeling apartment completely empty except for the two of them.

Everyone else had already gone home for Christmas, Gigi’s flight leaving the next morning, while Symone had said with a laugh that she was delaying going home for as long as she could since this was the first time she didn’t have to answer to her mama.

“Popcorn needs butter.” Symone huffed, but she still took another handful. The skinny pop they were eating had been left by Naomi who had gone home to Los Angeles last week. “I don’t care if I’m a model now.”

“Ooooh,” Gigi giggled, Symone so cool and carefree. “Look at the rebel.”

“What can I say,” Symone smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s hard being perfect.”

Gigi had tried not to be disappointed when Symone shared that she had been selected by Galactica for their February show, her own booking noticeably absent. Sutan hadn’t seemed to sweat it, her manager not treating her any differently, his faith in her clearly still there since her January was filled with go sees, but it had been a bitter pill to swallow.

“Hey,” Gigi felt an elbow push against her side, and she looked up to see Symone’s brown eyes resting on her face. “Don’t look like that.”

“Look like what?”

“Like you’re not amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?”

“Of course!” Symone grinned and Gigi could feel warmth wash over her body, her fingertips tingling, her stomach fluttering with butterflies.

***

Jinkx tapped Bianca on the shoulder, fixing her face with a puzzled expression as she turned around, glass of champagne in hand, strangers’ chatter barely audible over the Christmas music. The party was perfectly fine, if boring, one of those mandatory events to attend every year, making nice with all the big shots if you wanted them to keep donating to your charity foundations--which Jinkx definitely did.

“Hi...I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but you look terribly familiar…” JInkx tilted her head, a wicked grin on her red lips. “Have we met before? It’s been so long, I hardly remember-”

“Shut up, cunt,” Bianca laughed, sweeping her into a hug and holding her tight. “How are you?”

“Well, so much has happened since the last time we saw each other…” Jinkx swept her red hair over her shoulder, her dress for the evening a stunning green number with sequins. “I’ve had 7 marriages and 12 kids-”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca cut her off, rolling her eyes even though she was smiling. “I’m sorry.” She put her glass down on a nearby table, turning her back to the party so she could focus entirely on Jinkx. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Jinkx grinned mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Young love, huh?” Jinkx didn’t keep up with the press like she used to, but it had been impossible to miss Bianca splashed all over Manhattan's premiere gossip blog sucking face.

“Something like that,” Bianca grinned back.

Jinkx shook her head in amazement. She’d known Bianca for 20 years, and seeing her driven to distraction by romance was completely out of character, making Jinkx certain that whoever this girl was, she must be something truly special.

“So, did you bring her tonight? I’m dying to meet her,” Jinkx said, linking her arm through Bianca’s.

“And subject her to one of Ted’s rambling speeches? No thanks.”

“Aww, well, that’s a shame.” Jinkx took a sip of her cranberry spritzer, waiting a beat before asking, “So...what does the crew think? Are they playing nice?”

Bianca cut her eyes at Jinkx, asking, “Do they ever?”

“Well...I might not be the best judge of that...but no.” It still stung a little, the way Jinkx’ friendships with that entire group had fallen apart years ago, after her disastrous failed engagement with Sutan and subsequent downward spiral, the last few months nothing but hazy, indistinct memories--she was probably lucky that she didn’t remember most of it.

Only Bianca had kept in touch with her through all the worst times. Not that she blamed the others; she’d been a full mess, and anyone in their right mind would have walked away.

She was just lucky that Bianca happened to be crazy enough to stick around.

“Juju’s been okay,” Bianca offered, sighing a little. “She called me the other day and apologized. Even though I know she disapproves. In some ways, it’s worse than Raja and the rest of them, you know? When the nice one disapproves? But at least she’s trying.”

“I get that.” Jinkx had seen Juju a few times in recent years, and she’d been warm and sweet, and if Jinkx was braver, she’d have attempted to strike up a relationship again, now that she had years of sobriety under her belt. But somehow, the idea of rejection from the person who’d always been the voice of reason was exponentially scarier than more cold shoulder from Fame or Raja, or Sutan’s cowardly avoidance.

“I know you do. What about you, how are rehearsals going?”

“Oh, things are really heating up. I think...it could be a really good show,” she said, hope blooming on her face. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait either, red. I’m real fucking proud of you.” Bianca pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Are you gonna be around for Christmas? I’m putting together a little brunch. Nothing fancy, just the usual group of Jews and orphans.”

Bianca laughed. “Not this year. I decided to whisk Courtney away for a little trip while her office is closed down.”

“Well, that’s predictably extra of you,” Jinkx giggled. “You’ll be back for New Year’s though, right?”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it!”

***

“Triiiiiiiin!” Adore screeched, racing up to Trinity and throwing her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Adore very much needed this night out with her girls after last night’s humiliating debacle with Dahlia. The fucking traitorous cunt. Trinity, who was another one of Courtney’s sorority sisters (and low-key maybe Adore’s favorite of that whole group) visiting from Atlanta was the perfect excuse. Being around people who she knew had her back would do a lot to soothe her frayed nerves and bruised ego, the band barely getting through their gig, the angry tears that coursed down her cheeks during their last number fortunately in line with the lyrics.

“Hey girl, how are you?” Trinity asked.

“Right now I’m fucking perfect,” Adore murmured, face buried in her long dark hair.

“Don’t fucking hog her, Adore!” Morgan said, elbowing her in the side.

Trinity took Adore’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes, for the moment ignoring Morgan and Tyra jostling for her attention.

“You alright?” Trinity asked softly, and Adore knew that she was seconds away from tearing up like a big old baby. So she just nodded, and let Trinity fold her into another warm hug

“Hey, there’s a table free!” Tyra exclaimed, quickly dragging Morgan and Tati over, Trinity and Adore trailing behind. “Morgan, you get the first round.”

“I always get the first round,” Morgan protested.

“Omigod, whatever, I’ll get it, you petty bitch.” Tyra rolled her eyes and flounced over to the bar.

Adore wasn’t paying much attention to their bickering, just happy to have Trinity’s arm around her shoulders.

“So, how’s the new job going?” Adore asked her, eyes hopeful as she asked, “Still considering moving here? Pretty please?”

Trinity giggled, tossing her hair. “It’s a possibility. It depends how this whole CMA thing goes.”

“You’ll do great, you’re smart.” Adore waved her hand. “The real question is, what neighborhood do you want to move into? I vote for downtown and not some outer borough garbage like Courtney.”

“Speaking of, where is-”

“Trinity!” Courtney squealed, pushing her way through the crowd and running over to their table, flinging herself into Trinity’s arms.

“Hi baby! You look great, spin around for me.”

“You think?” Courtney beamed, spinning happily to show off the clothes that Adore was certain Bianca had either bought for her or lent from her massive closet. In fact, her jacket looked very familiar. And her earrings. And her boots. Jesus Christ.

“Who wants tequila?!” Tyra exclaimed, setting a bunch of shot glasses down on the table.

“Everyone but Courtney,” Adore laughed, taking a lime and a glass.

“I’ll take one!” Courtney countered, still grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What the hell, right?”

“Wow, what’s gotten you so happy?” Trinity asked. “Last time we talked, you were super stressed and up to your ass in work.”

“Oh, I still am,” Courtney giggled. “But it’s Saturday, so...cheers, mates!”

She and Trinity clinked glasses and then downed their shots.

“Seriously though...what’s up?” Trinity asked. “Did your dad send you some magical new multivitamin?”

“Man, are you out of the loop,” Morgan said, shaking her head.

“What?”

“She’s getting laid,” Tati explained, and Courtney laughed, coyly fluttering her lashes.

“Ohh, okay. Who’s the lucky douchebag?” Trinity asked, clearly assuming that Courtney was continuing her pattern of dating horrible men and then discarding them quickly.

“My sister,” Adore said pointedly, tossing back her own shot and then biting down on the lime.

Trinity turned back to Courtney, eyes huge, mouth open. “Whoaaaa…”

“Yeah, she’s not even like, a little gay like Tati,” Tyra teased. “She’s gone full lez overnight.”

Courtney laughed again, simpering and giggling, looking happier than Adore had ever seen her--like the world was hers for the taking. She groaned internally, wondering if maybe Jujubee had been right about Bianca giving Courtney way too much hope.

The last thing she needed was to have her heart broken and her dreams crushed, and if it was by Adore’s sister, then she’d feel somewhat responsible.

Shit.

“So like...whoa,” Trinity said again, still in a bit of shock, but clearly amused.

“I’ll get the next round!” Courtney then exclaimed, and began to skip over to the bar.

“Wait up, Court!” Adore called, following her.

Courtney bounced happily up to the bar, quickly getting the bartender’s attention and ordering six Cosmos. Right after tequila shots. Tonight was shaping up to be quite a mess, Adore realized, but shrugged, figuring that getting wild before they all went home for the holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing.

While the bartender began making their drinks, Adore linked her arm through Courtney’s.

“So...uh...how are things going with B, anyway? And feel free to refrain from getting too graphic.”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney giggled, turning towards Adore with sparkling eyes. “It’s going...so fucking good, Dore. I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s incredible...”

“That’s good,” Adore said. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“It’s more than that,” Courtney said. “It’s like...I always thought I was a pretty happy person, but then she came along and it’s just made everything so much brighter and more wonderful than I ever thought possible. Like I’m seeing colors I never knew existed, you know?”

Shiiiit.

“Okay well...yeah, cool.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you were good with it, did-”

“I am! I’m totally good with it,” Adore said quickly, nodding and forcing a smile. “And I’m really happy for you.”

“But?” Courtney eyes, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, it’s just, it’s Bianca. She just sometimes tends to, um…” Adore bit her lip. How the fuck was she supposed to do this? This was her sister, her favorite person in the world, and even though it might be true, talking shit about her in any way except a joke felt wrong. “She’s just not much of a relationship person. You know?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I know.” Courtney paused slightly, thinking, and Adore wished she knew what was going through her head.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Adore continued. “I would feel so shitty, like it was my fault, if she...you know. Did her usual thing with you. Especially if she was giving you the wrong idea, letting you think it’s more serious than...than she can handle.”

“That’s fair,” Courtney said, taking in Adore’s words with such nonchalance that Adore had to wonder if she was even listening.

“She just tends to, like...move on quickly, before things get too real. I think it’s some kind of defense thing, probably because of our-” Adore stopped, realizing she was about to majorly overstep. That tequila shot must have hit her harder than she thought. “I dunno. She just doesn’t really like anything serious. And I know y’all are about to spend Christmas together, and it’s Bianca so she’s gonna buy you a billion presents, and I just don’t want you to think it means...you know...”

“Well…” Courtney pressed her lips together, handing her credit card over to the bartender before busting out a smug, “She told me she loved me.”

“She what?!” Adore’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Love? That was new. That was major.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took one of the cocktails into her hands, sipping it daintily.

Well. It appeared that her sister’s nearest and dearest friends were dead fucking wrong. It also explained why Courtney looked self-satisfied as fuck, instead of defensive or annoyed. And as for Adore, what she felt mostly was relief, and joy, and a tiny bit of guilt for being talked out of giving Bianca the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, shit. Okay, you know what? I take back everything I said. You’re in uncharted territory.” She picked up one of the drinks and held it out. “Cheers, bitch.”

“Cheers,” Courtney giggled, taking another sip. She took her card back from the bartender and began collecting the drinks. Adore helped, taking three of them into her own hands.

“So, can I be the flower girl at your wedding?” she asked, heading back over to their table.

Courtney laughed gaily, bumping Adore with her hip, showing her that there were no hard feelings at all.

***

7 notes · View notes

rjhpandapaws · 4 years ago

Text

A Hand in the Matter

Ch7: Adventures in Interior Decorating

Tina eyed Gavin suspiciously as she leaned on the bar. Normally they would be doing this on a Friday rather than a Wednesday, but for once Gavin had plans for the weekend. So it was either move the "gays night out" as Tina called it up a bit, or not have one this week. Tina was not exactly pleased with the change of plans since she was working early the next day. Setting her beer glass down she spoke.

"So let me get this straight," she started and leaned into Gavin, not even laughing at what would normally be a joke between them. "You moved our night out up two fucking nights into the work week because you're going to spend the weekend with some guy named Richard. Helping him remodel his apartment or whatever, but you're not sleeping with him."

"Tina, my answer isn't going to have changed from the last three fucking times you asked me," Gavin replied with an exasperated sigh. "We aren't sleeping together. He's just a friend."

"So was Allen. Until he wasnt," she said sitting back like she had made some kind of point.

Gavin rolled his eyes, "Richard is different, its not like that with him. I see him a bit like I see you."

"That's a lie. You've never adjusted your schedule to help me remodel."

"Tina, you haven't remodeled anything." Gavin pointed out, "I think you've had enough for the night, let's settle the tab and call it."

Tina seemed like she was going to argue for a moment before she nodded. She stood, needing a moment to regain her footing before walking to the end of the bar to pay. Gavin followed suit.

When they were outside the bar waiting on their respective rides. Tina for her girlfriend and Gavin for his Uber.

Tina took a deep steadying breath before speaking, "just... be careful okay? I know I don't know him, but I just don't want to risk seeing you back in a place like you were after Allen."

"I know T." Gavin said straightening up off the wall, "you're just looking out for me. I respect that."

She nodded as a familiar car pulled up to the curb and she lifted a hand to wave at him, "Good night Gav."

"Yeah, you too." He returned the wave and watched her go.

She had always been that way, looking out for him and at least trying to protect him. He understood the warning. The no feelings involved arrangement with Allen had collapsed in on itself when Gavin went ahead and caught feelings, and Allen hadn't. The fight that happened after ended their friendship and left Gavin in a bad way for quite a while. Tina had been left to pick up the pieces and be damage control. Her suspicion of Richard, although misplaced in Gavin's opinion, came from a well meaning place.

The weekend crept up on Gavin, and it was Friday afternoon before he knew it. He was running around his apartment like a madman, packing all of the things he might need for a weekend at Richard's place. It would be his first time there since Richard's panic attack as well as his first time there as an invited guest. Tina would come by twice a day to check on Frankie. The cat in mention was watching him from her cat tower. He reached up to pet the mildly overweight black feline.

"I'll be back in a couple days," he said in a voice one might use for children, "be good for your aunt Tina okay?"

She leaned into his hand before he pulled away and picked up the duffle bag. He made sure he had his keys and his phone before heading down to the parking lot. This weekend was kind of a big deal for Richard as well. He'd never had anyone stay over at his apartment before, and on top of that they would be remodeling it. Trying to make it into a place that Richard could feel at home in rather than trapped. When Gavin arrived at his bike he sent Richard a text.

Gavin: Getting ready to head your way. Need me to pick anything up on my way over?

Tall Phcker from Psych: No. Not that I can think of.

Gavin: Alright, see you soon.

He strapped his bag to his bike, with it situated safely he put his helmet on and got on the bike himself. He left the complex and made his way to Richard's. He was looking forward to the weekend, hanging out with Richard was always a good time. Something that was as important to Richard as this was bound to be the same. Gavin parked as close to the building as he could. He still had to go up the stairs to get to Nines's apartment, he was not packing his bag across a fucking parking lot on top of all that.

Gavin got off the bike, took his helmet off and unclipped the duffle bag. He slung it over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. He sent another text before heading up.

Gavin: on my way up to you

Tall Phcker from Psych: ok. The door is unlocked.

Gavin tucked his phone away and began his treck up the stairs. It probably would have been smarter to use the elevator, but Gavin only knew how to find the apartment from the stairs. It was the fifth unit from the end on the left from this direction, and he didn't know how many from the elevator it was. Like last time, Gavin was fighting for his breath when he got to the top.

Gavin opened the door and took his shoes off, putting them on the bottom shelf of the slate grey shoe rack Richard had bought online. It was the first personal touch he'd added to the place, and the thing that had started all of this. Straightening up he smiled at Richard.

"Where do you want this?" He asked gesturing to the bag on his shoulder.

Richard looked up from where he was getting something out of the fridge and pointed to the couch. Gavin made his way to the couch and set the bag down, he stretched before squatting down and digging through it. He made a sound of victory when he came away what he was looking for, he smiled and hid the small box behind his back as he walked back toward the kitchen. On the counter were two glass bottles of old fashioned soda, the same kind that Gavin usually had at his place.

"Thanks." Gavin said accepting the bottle that was slid across the island toward him, "I got you something, a bit of a housewarming gift."

Gavin set the hastily wrapped gift on the island and slid it toward Richard. He grabbed the bottle and popped the cap off with practiced ease. Richard was careful as he unwrapped his gift, looking like he was trying to avoid tearing the wrapping paper. He got to the nondescript box and looked at it for a long moment before opening it just as carefully. He took out the white porcelain mug, turning it over in his hands until he got to the text. 'Silence is Golden' was printed in light blue cursive script. He set the mug down carefully, looking at him with one of the biggest smiles Gavin had ever seen on him.

'Thank You.' He signed, 'I Love It.'

"I'm glad," Gavin took a drink from the cool soda, finding refreshing after his trip up the stairs. "I saw it in the campus bookstore and thought you might like it."

Richard took a drink from his own bottle while Gavin picked up the trash from the counter trying to minimize the clutter. He left the mug alone, Richard could decided what he wanted to do with it.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Gavin asked heading for the livingroom figuring Richard would follow him to the couch, "online shopping, actual shopping, relaxing, or getting started on changing around the place?"

Richard sat beside him on the couch in his usual proper posture, stiff and rigid in comparison to Gavin who looked like he'd been poured onto it. Richard tapped his fingers along the bottle in his hands as he thought about it. This whole thing was a big decision for him. Gavin would give him as much time as he needed for his choice.

Eventually Richard set his bottle down and began signing, stopping then restarting several times before letting out an annoyed sigh. He picked up his phone choosing to type out his thoughts instead. Gavin's signing was slowly getting better, but he wasn't fluent and his understanding was hit and miss still.

Tall Phcker from Psych: could we stay in tonight? Relax and maybe look at things online?

Tall Phcker from Psych: I don't think I'm ready to do much else yet.

"That's perfectly fine." He turned on the TV switching it over to something they didn't have to invest much attention in, "we'll only do what you're comfortable with."

That was how they spent the afternoon, scrolling through online furniture stores. Richard made a list of what he wanted to get and colors he hoped to find them in. It was hours later when they were pulled from the moment by Gavin's empty stomach growling out its discontent.

'Food?' Richard signed with an amused shine to his eyes.

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea." Gavin said with a chuckle of his own, one hand pressed firmly over his abdomen to muffle any further noises, "you in the mood to cook or is it a take out kind of night?"

Richard answered by pulling up a deliver app on his phone. He picked an Italian place, put in his order before handing the phone off to Gavin. He looked over the menu ordering food for himself and passing the phone back to Richard so he could add something else if he wanted before placing the order.

They took a break when the food arrived, setting it up on the coffee table. It was nice and comfortable, like the evenings they sometimes spent at Gavin's place. This was a nice feeling. They stayed like that well into the night. Passing notes like little kids until it was late enough in the that Gavin felt like he was going to collapse into the coffee table from his place on the floor. He yawned so widely that his jaw cracked and spoke aloud for the first time in hours.

"So how are we doing this Nines?" He rubbed at his face to try and wake up more, considering as conversations tended to require more brain power than he currently possessed.

'You Take Couch. I Take Bed.' Came the reply before Richard began cleaning up the coffee table. Right, they still had to move that.

Gavin helped as well, throwing out the garbage while Richard packed up and put away the left over food. Despite it being Richard's livingroom rather than Gavin's, they still moved as a unit to clear the living room for the pull out bed. When that was done, Richard stepped back observing the room, this was another change for him, but from what Gavin could see he was taking it well.

They took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. When Gavin finally got to bed he pulled put his phone to check his messages. He had a few from Tina.

Pocket Police: we could be out drinking now but you have other friends apparently

Pocket Police: don't do anything we wouldn't do

Pocket Police: Frankie misses you

Gavin: we'll have the normal schedule back soon. You know I still love you

Gavin: we won't. I miss Frankie too

Gavin: good night T

Pocket Police: night Gav

He set his phone on the armrest and rolled onto his side. The excitement of the day had drained him and sleep was quick to pull him under. Gavin slept soundly and well into the morning. Waking only when he heard movement from the kitchen. Whoever was there was trying to keep quiet.

It took Gavin's slowly waking brain a long moment to recognize he wasn't in his own apartment. He sat up and stretched, after rubbing the sleep from his eyes he made his way into the kitchen. Slowly being coaxed to life by the smell of coffee. A good way to start a busy weekend, or, any weekend really.

"Good morning Richard," Gavin mumbled around a yawn. "How did you sleep?"

'Good Morning,' he signed back. 'I Slept Fine.'

They were pleasantly quiet after that. Gavin wasn't exactly much of a talker or much of a functioning human before his first cup of coffee. He wasn't grumpy, he just wasn't talkative because it was too much effort. Last night they had come up with a plan of attack for the weekend. Today was a shopping day, and tomorrow they would get things set up.

When the coffee finished brewing Richard reached up into the cabinet grabbing a mug for Gavin, and took the one Gavin had brought him yesterday for himself. Gavin was happy to see him use it. Richard poured Gavin's first, sliding it to him and then pointing to the fridge. Gavin nodded his thanks and stepped that way, setting his mig down on the counter beside it. He opened the door doing a bit of digging around before he came away with what he was looking for: Carmel flavored coffee creamer. He was being silently judged by Richard as he added what his counterpart referred to as a criminal amount of cream to his coffee before returning the bottle to the fridge. He took a long drink as he turned to face Richard.

"That's some good coffee," Gavin joked, grinning when he saw Richard wrinkle his nose in disgust.

'You Monster,' was signed back at him, though there was no heat to it.

The easy silence settled over them again as they drank their coffee. Richard was looking out the livingroom window, and Gavin was looking over what he could see of the apartment from his place by the fridge. Having the pull out bed open helped the place look more lived in. It felt more alive, the way a home should.

When they were ready to go they met in the entry way, grabbing what they would need before heading out. They would be taking Richard's car because heavy shopping and motorcycles didn't mix well. Gavin in all honesty was pretty excited. He'd never gotten to see Richard in an environment that one if not both of them had some control over. This would be a learning experience for the both of them.

Richard's car was a light grey Toyota model that Gavin didn't recognize. The inside, as he expected, was spotless. Richard played music from his phone as they drive toward the shopping district. Richard had a system in place, specific stores he wanted to look at. Gavin was coming along to translate as needed and for moral support. Even though he was more or less just along for the ride, he was still looking forward to it. They arrived at the first store on the list and Richard found a place to park turning off the car.

'Ready?' Richard signed at him.

"Yeah," Gavin unbuckled and got out of the car, "are you?"

Richard nodded and got out as well. They walked into the store, it had a relatively open floor plan. One half was furniture and the other half was trinkets and decorations meant for livening up they came to call home. Richard wandered through the store to satisfy his curiosity. He picked things out as he went, some from the list, some not. Gavin grabbed a few things as well, for his place and Richard's. Every stop they made went in similar fashion, Richard roaming for curiosities sake and picking things up as he went. There was one more place they wanted to stop at, to see if it had the specific set of shelves that had been alluding them all day. Richard had picked out two similar ones for the office, but wanted this specific one for his room. They had it bookmarked online in case they couldn't find it while they were out.

The building was massive. Gavin would be surprised if they didn't have what Richard was after. They wandered around, not quite aimlessly, but it didn't seem like they would find what they were after here either unfortunately. Gavin was about to voice as much and suggest they call it a day, when someone spoke up from the other side of Richard. It scared them both, though Gavin was the only one to jump.

"Can I help you and your..." the sales clerk paused, searching for her words as she looked between Gavin and Richard, "partner find anything specific?"

Richard froze for a long while, seeming like he was trying to compose himself. Genuinely confused. He picked his hands up to sign, restarting a number of times before giving up altogether and shooting Gavin a desperate pleading look.

"Oh, uh. No. We're alright thanks." Gavin stumbled over his words in his flustered rush to get them out. It seemed to do the trick though since the sales clerk retreated and they were once again left on their own.

They just stared at each other for a long while. Gavin cracked first, smiling and then breaking into laughter when the awkwardness passed leaving only amused embarrassment in its wake. Richard was smiling, amusement shining in his eyes. What a fucking day.

"Let's head back." Gavin suggested when he had enough control over his air intake to talk again, "we can pick up some food on the way back. Then order the shelves when we get back to your place."

Despite the laugh they'd had about it earlier, Gavin found himself paying more attention to his proximity to Richard the rest of the day. They had a good laugh about it again over dinner, Richard delighting in it now that the initial awkwardness had passed. Gavin did as well, it was funny looking back. That was how the evening went. The two of them talking and having a good time until they were too tired to keep up right.

'Okay,' Richard signed as he stood. 'Bed Time.'

They had been smart enough to clean uo their dinner mess beforehand this time. After Gavin finished his nightly routine he laid down and pulled out his phone to check in with Tina.

Gavin: you'll never guess what happened today!

Pocket Police: something funny i take it

Gavin: Richard and I got mistaken for a couple today

Pocket Police: how did that go

Gavin: we've been having a good laugh about it

Gavin: just thought I'd let you know

Gavin: night T

Pocket Police: sleep well

Once again Gavin woke up to Richard in the kitchen and roused with less confusion than the day before. He stretched and made his way to the kitchen, following the smell off coffee. The same mugs as yesterday were out on the counter, clean and ready to be used.

"Morning." Gavin mumbled, just this side of coherent as he leaned against the counter, "today's the day. Are you excited?"

'Morning,' Richard parroted with a smile. Ever the fucking morning person. He nodded in answer to Gavin's question knowing that this would be the extent of the conversation until he got coffee into his system.

They didn't have as solid of a plan of attack for today, no lists to follow, just the general goal of getting the place into a state Richard was comfortable living in. Gavin's first order of business after he'd gotten coffee into his system was to clean up the livingroom since it had been his home the past couple of days. After that he would go wherever Richard needed him.

The coffee finished and like yesterday Richard poured both mugs then slid Gavin's toward him. Gavin added cream to it and then took a drink letting out a content hum. Richard let out an amused sound and rolled his eyes lifting his mug in a mock toast.

"Look. One of us can't function before eleven in the morning." Gavin complained between drinks of coffee, "its not my fault you can't wake up at a normal time."

'Waking Up Afternoon Not Normal.' Richard signed, and then had the nerve to fucking wink. God damn morning person.

"Richard. Its the weekend." Gavin remarked, gesturing with his free hand, "its practically against the law to wake up early on the weekend."

'Yet Here You Are,' he signed like he was making a point. 'Awake Early Sunday Morning.'

"Okay, no need to be so damn smug," Gavin said with a tired laugh, "you've made your point."

'Have I?' He signed with a faint smile along with a raised eyebrow.

Gavin flipped him off for lack of a better argument. Richard rolled his eyes again, but they were alight with amusement, and Gavin had a smile of his own to match. After he finished his coffee he cleaned his cup out and set it on the dish mat to dry.

"Alright, I'm going to start by cleaning up my shit from the livingroom," Gavin gestured in the direction of the couch. "Then where do you want me?"

'My Room.' Richard responded, finishing his own coffee and going through the same motions as Gavin.

Gavin made his way to the livingroom, packing up his mess and putting his things back into his duffle bag. Next he took the sheets and blanket off the pull out and stepped into the bathroom with the bundle of fabric. He set it down and opened the washing machine, he untangled the mass of blankets and loaded them into the machine. With that done he went back out to the livingroom and set about putting away the pull out bed. Doing it by himself wasn't a pleasant experience, but Richard was busy and Gavin didn't want to bother him. With the bed finally tucked away and the couch cushions back in place, the last thing that needed to be replaced was the coffee table which he handled with ease.

Having finished in the livingroom he turned and headed down the hall, stopping in the bathroom to check the laundry he had set to run. Making his way to Richard's he knocked on the doorframe before stepping inside.

"What," Gavin started from a few feet into the room, "are you doing?"

Gavin felt that it was an appropriate question since he'd come in to find one of Richard's closet doors halfway disconnected from the frame with said man sitting on the floor presumably trying to finish the job. Richard looked over his shoulder at Gavin and seemed quite proud of himself. He freed a hand from whatever he was doing to the bottom of the door and gestured to the whole of it like that somehow explained everything.

"Okay," Gavin continued, acting as though he understood this impromptu round of charades, "and you're taking the door off its hinges because why exactly?"

Richard let out a sigh that was just this side of annoyed. He moved so that he was facing Gavin, 'I Do Not Like Noise They Make. Help Me.' He emphasized the last bit by pointing at Gavin and then to the remaining door.

"You have a plan of what you're gonna do once they're off?" Gavin asked moving to the other door, he leaned against it and looked at his companion.

'No,' he paused to consider something, 'Do Not Want Them Here.'

"We'll figure it out I guess," he straightened up, "you got anything to make this easier or are we just gonna brute force it."

Richard reached back behind himself and came away with a screwdriver that he held out to Gavin. He took it with a nod of thanks, and turned to get to get to work assuming Richard was doing the same. He'd figured they'd get to this eventually, but if he had known they'd be doing this today he would have asked Tina if he could borrow her truck instead of bringing his bike over. But it was what it was, he could always ask her later.

The doors took a bit of time to get off the frame, and with no way to remove them from the apartment they settled for putting them away in the bathroom closet for the time being. While he was in there Gavin switched the laundry over. The shelves they had ordered wouldn't arrive for another week or so but they got everything else for Richard's room set up.

The room came away with a color palette of bright light blue and a dark matte grey. Gavin liked how it came out, it suited Nines pretty well in his opinion. They moved on to the office next, adding the shelf sets that Richard had picked out. One became designated for books and paperwork, and the other for office supplies and a couple of decorative trinkets. One of those being a porcelain statue of Lucky Cat that Gavin had picked out.

He let Richard do the bathroom himself. The livingroom came next and was by far the most fun. They'd bought some decorative pillows for the couch but apparently decided that a pillow fight would make better use of them. Which was how Gavin found himself backed against the wall with Richard throwing pillows at him with a surprising amount of strength.

"Okay! Okay!" Gavin called in surrender between bouts of laughter, "I'm sorry for smacking you with that pillow, even if you deserved it."

Richard finally relented, accepting Gavin's albeit shitty apology. Gavin began picking up the pillows on the floor around him placing them on the couch. Adding the one he had bought that had "fuck off" stitched into it in cursive purple thread to a spot where it could easily be seen as a finishing touch.

"There, its perfect." Gavin said looking over at Richard with a satisfied smile, "home sweet home."

Richard was wearing his equivalent of Gavin's smile, just smaller but no less genuine, 'Home Sweet Home.'

#A Hand in the Matter #dbh #d:bh #gavin reed #dbh gavin #d:bh gavin #d:bh reed900 #reed900 #dbh reed900 #rk900 #nines #d:bh nines #dbh rk900 #nonverbal nines

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