#and yesterday i got a package meant for one of them and delivered it to their house | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dzpenumbra · 2 years ago

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1/13/23

Today, I had momentum. In a manner of speaking. I really should've used the momentum to go out to an actual store myself, but... I've just been freaked out lately. I don't know. An aversion to the public again. It's like... reflexive.

Instead of fighting it, I did Instacart again. I got these Command strips that are like... adhesives strips for hanging shit in your house. I really need to get my whiteboard back in commission. My therapist and I talked about that yesterday. The most structured and consistent I've been is when I had a reliable whiteboard system, a check-in system when the whiteboard is located in a very visible, highly trafficked area in my house. And I have the perfect spot. So I got these strips, some stuff for the bathroom, a birdfeeder and a succulent plant. Yep, I got my first plant for the apartment. And it only took me a month and a half. But hey, it's done!

So, I get the stuff delivered and I pick it all up. I feel like doing this Instacart stuff is like... practicing for not having a car. Because... I have a feeling that's the way this car repair situation is going. So... I'm kinda just preemptively adapting, I guess. I'm sure there are other reasons but... I'm not getting into that right now. I wanna recap this clusterfuck.

So I get the strips out, I got a TON of them just... in case. I figured I'll use them for hanging all kinds of shit. The first thing I see on the package is "do not apply to paper or fabric", and... like... ALL of my art is paper or fabric. I really should've seen that coming, and beat myself up plenty for it, but like... ugh. Really felt like I pissed a bunch of cash away on that. AND that ruled out my small whiteboard, which has a cardboard back on it. -_- So I went "okay, at least I can still do the big whiteboard", but it has a metal frame around the whole thing... and that frame is big enough that the strips won't work. At this point I'm getting frustrated, that was the point of the entire order... So I look over and see my wood coat hook thing, it's like a big piece of finished wood with a bunch of coat hooks on it. I go "at least I can do that, that's something. I slap the strips on it and go to line it up on the wall... and the thing is warped to hell. Like twisted warped. So the strips won't lie flat on the wall. That one upset me a bit. So... I unscrewed the hooks, got some wet hand towels, an extra piece of wood and some clamps and that fucker is gonna be sitting in the windowsill for the next few days. Hopefully that straightens it out, if not, I'll just make a nice carving out of it. Someday...

So that really got under my skin. Like... the bulk of the shit I was going to do today was just... problem after problem. My mom called. We were on the same page for a bit. Then I just went "I swear, if I just had thumbtacks this wouldn't be a damn problem, I've been using exclusively them to hang stuff since college." And... she corrected me that I meant "push pins". And I felt real goddamn dumb... because this whole time I thought they were called thumbtacks, and I've been searching for thumbtacks and not finding them anywhere. Welp, turns out people do have pushpins... But... I was trying to just roll with it and went with these strips, I was like... if no one has these pins, and that means I won't be putting holes in the wall... then fuck it, right? And I just felt really dumb. And then I started kicking myself that I didn't add them to the order this morning. And she suggested I order some. And I started getting really upset that I would have to place a delivery order for a $2.50 pack of pushpins. Like, the delivery cost would be higher than the cost of the item. And then I went to "wow, I can't just like drive 5 blocks up the street for this?" And my brain went "wow, you're really gonna risk getting sick for a pack of pushpins". And this happened like... lightning speed. Like within probably... 2 seconds tops? I went from being frustrated that I didn't add these to my order earlier in the day to being afraid I was going to asphyxiate alone in my apartment.

I was mid-conversation when this happened. It must've been disorienting to my mom, I just got really distant and frustrated and shit. I just started shutting down. And she went the wrong route, she started trying to reassure me that the problems that I was seeing weren't as big as I thought. She went the "Covid isn't really a thing anymore" route. And I, with surprising grace considering the circumstances, let her know very clearly - 1) I'm experiencing very strong emotions right now, don't listen to the tone of my voice, please listen to the words that I'm saying, 2) Please don't make this political. 3) The problem I'm working through is emotional, not practical. Don't try to make this go away, or make my feelings go away, help me find a way around or through it. If there isn't a way around it, we can come back to that.

It was surprisingly successful. We didn't fight. That happens every damn time. Every time I get stressed, I wear it on my sleeve. And the person on the other side starts floundering, or takes personal offense to it, sees me as aggressive or combative or something. It happened with my last ex constantly. It happened in the retreat I went to too, some other resident thought I was pissed off at them personally because I was detoxing off of meds and dealing with my family shit. I just... didn't hide my stress, I wore it on my sleeve. Because my feelings are big and if I stuff them inside, I end up with chronic health problems. I mean that literally. I did irreparable damage to my body because of repressing stress, I was constantly sick to the point of being nearly couch-bound for stretches of time because of it. It took me a lot of experience and therapy to accept that I just... have way more emotions than a lot of people that I know, that I'm sensitive. And that that is okay, it's good. It's just part of who I am. It makes me equally as weak as it makes me strong. It just really fucking sucks that I have to like... explain myself all the time.

In hindsight, my dog was the perfect companion for me in that... she was basically a mirror of me. In a lot of ways. Highly emotional, and feared. And I defended the fuck out of her for it, never as much as I wanted to or felt I should, but much more than I defend myself for the same exact shit. See, she was incredibly social, super friendly all the fucking time, but she... was a sable German Shepherd. And... people... make assumptions. They jump to conclusions. I say this because I can't count the number of times I had to say "don't worry, she's friendly" or "is it okay if she says hi?" or "don't worry, she doesn't bite". Shit like that. Like I'm walking around with a goddamn crocodile on a leash, come on people. Like, instead of people expressing their own fears and prejudices and communicating them clearly and honestly, it gets to the point where the accommodating people who are constantly being persecuted... just walk around introducing themselves already explaining shit preemptively. "Hi, my name is ____, I'm a sensitive person. You might see my mood change rapidly, this might be reflected in my posture, tone of voice, facial expression, etc. You know, like a fuckin dog or a cat. But guess what? Unlike a dog or a cat, you can just be a civil fucking person and go 'hey, you look upset, you wanna talk about it?' or, you know, excuse yourself out and fuck off or whatever." I don't know man, people are fucking weird, and it's just so fucking tiring and demoralizing to have to go around constantly apologizing for other peoples' fears. It really does a number on your self-esteem.

Anywho, that drama was averted. We had a great conversation and covered a lot of stuff. I made dinner - potato skins, chicken and rice. I got the xbox hooked up, which is nice. I started recording a new Rimworld playthrough, no clue if it's gonna fit the bill. I feel like I've been getting really picky lately. We'll see what happens. I was planning on doing my master list of things I need done, and my whiteboard, but I got so sidetracked by the strips and tacks that I just... didn't get those done. But I got a lot of planning done, I got my first plant and I got a birdfeeder. So I'd call that a good day. Oh, and I saw a Pileated Woodpecker out the window. I used to see them in the woods all the time, and I heard it calling outside and immediately recognized the sound. So I got a birdfeeder, cuz fuck it. And I'll try to get it set up tomorrow.

The only other shit I have to talk about was like... Twitch drama... which is like... duh? I guess? Like... one streamer saying "my kid is getting screened for autism next week" and "wouldn't that be my punishment for calling my audience the 'r-word'". And I get it, it's blunt around the edges and poking fun at something that's clearly making him uncomfortable and scaring him. I guess it's just how we process fear sometimes? I think that's a huge component to humor, especially dark humor, they're just ways of having conversations about difficult topics that otherwise we wouldn't be able to really comfortably address. Humor lets us speak more openly about it. But it really does matter what your intentions are. And I'm not sure if his intention is to... learn how to be okay, to accept potentially being the parent of a neurodivergent child. He doesn't seem to really see any good in it, he seems only fixated on how difficult it would be, how parenting a neurodivergent child is harder. And that rubbed me the wrong way, to the point where I just left. I was kinda just... discouraged. Like... that's your kid, dude. Getting a diagnosis doesn't make your kid a different kid, it just gives you a language to understand your kid better. Which should really be every parent's goal, I would think. Right? Just sayin. A positive diagnosis just opens the door to a bunch of researched techniques to make your life easier, nothing else changes (other than the stigma of others). A negative diagnosis means nothing changes. So yeah. I dunno, really bummed me out and left a bad taste in my mouth.

The other one was going over to another streamer and seeing him, once again, just blatantly being a schoolyard bully. But in roleplay, in character, so it's not him bullying, it's his character bullying another character. And it was just like... man. It was hard to watch. Like I've watched a lot of this streamer in the past, and it never really felt this blatant and unfiltered. Like, I know he likes to antagonize and poke and get reactions and shit... but like... this was just like cartoonish. It's a damn shame, he is a pretty funny guy. But I've been noticing nearly all of his humor is at the expense of others, in very personal ways. Like a comedian that only does crowdwork. And the crowdwork is like "hey look at this fat fucking guy in the front row, hey fatty, how many pizzas have you eaten today? Am I right?! Haha what a fat fuck." Like... okay. I mean if your target audience is 14 year old football players, I guess that's funny? So yeah, it was a lot more creative before... I thought. He did this big arc where he had a cop that was very feared and very aggressive (obviously, barely even have to act for that one) but was a closeted gay man and crossdressed and all that. And I liked the way that angle was played in the past, it made some really funny moments and even emotional moments too. But that era passed at least a year ago, longer now. And now... it's just... really bad freestyle rap. And having an out-of-character temper tantrum for actually doing jailtime for multiple crimes he admitted to on the ride to the station, because "admitting to crimes is his character's thing." Like... okay. It feels like a lot of it is just letting the most valuable part of all of it - the creativity - take a backseat while viewership, sponsorships and "winning the interaction" take the front seat. Like the most creative thing I saw him do in one hour of watching this stream was punch a cop through the prison bars 7 times, and say "I'm not so much of a Hootie fan, I'm more of a Darius Rucker fan". Which is either a joke that went way over my head, or a complete swing and a miss at trying to get 90's pop music hipster cred or something. I feel like I'm losing braincells just talking about this. I've been raising my standards for entertainment lately, and I think I should continue that trend. I don't really need to waste my time or energy getting stressed out about people I would never give the time to in person. And I sure as fuck am not watching their ads.

Okay... gotta reset the vibes before bed. Oh shit, it got late again, 3:45. Crap. Um... I don't know, I got really excited about plants today, and I had this idea. Apparently it's pretty easy to propagate succulent plants, you can just grow new ones from their leaves apparently? Like clone them. And I had this crazy vision of like... experimenting with that and getting good at it and then just like... leaving some outside my door in case people wanted them? Maybe encourage people to slide donations under the door if they want? Or just straight up sell them. Because apparently they're easy as fuck to take care of, and hell, maybe other people would want one? And I'd love the project, I think it would be really fun. And I could design my own containers and stuff! That would be cool. Idk, it was a thought. There was a place that would mail you like 50 cuttings for like $8. If I got half of those to grow and sold them for like... $3 each? That's not bad. Just sayin.

I'll keep it in mind. But for now, I'm heading to sleep. Bye.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

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fallatyourfeet · 3 years ago

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Not One Fuckin' Word

(Alfie Solomons x Female Pilot Reader) From mostly Tommy's perspective.

As requested by anon

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one, hope you guys enjoy reading it. I felt like this would be better written from Tommy's perspective, let me know how you think it turned out.

Warnings: A little bit of swearing and it gets a little suggestive towards the end, but nothing descriptive.

Word count: 1500 yes, that's right. It's really quite pleasing.

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around. You will find my masterlist in my Bio.

Any feedback, comments, reblogs, asks or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

All three Shelby brothers stood in the middle of the vast empty field. It was a glorious day. The sun shone warmly down from an endless blue sky, and yet, they barely even noticed. Alfie had insisted they meet in there to conduct their little transaction, his promise doing nothing to ease their misgivings. “I ain’t gonna lie, it’s a good place to do away with ya’s, but I promise I ain’t got that in mind just yet. It’s just a good meetin’ place, that’s all.” But Alfie was nervous. No, not nervous... strained, Tommy could see it from a mile away.

Besides that, he had come with just one of his men, a strange move when he knew all three of them were coming, after only yesterday agreeing to arrive at the field with even numbers. Tommy breathed quietly, keeping his features even and emotionless, despite the concerns passing through his head, “It was meant to be the three of us and three of you... Where’s your third man, Alfie?”

Alfie answered, his manner a little condescending, “With the package, Tommy.”

Struggling to keep his tone in check, he replied, “And why didn’t you bring the package yourself?”

Outstretching his hands, the Camden baker raised his brows dryly, “Cause I got it comin in from the other side of the country. Now be patient, Tommy... It’ll be here any minute.”

Searching the deserted road off in the distance, Tommy and his brothers saw and heard nothing, not a single sign of any approaching automobile to signal the arrival of their package. How were they to know, that in just a few seconds they would hear the distant roar of your aircraft’s engine as it flew through the perfect blue sky towards them? And how were they to know, that since the war, Alfie had a plane at his constant disposal, that he chose to never use and one of UK’s best pilots warming his bed every night? Tommy always made it his business to know the ins and outs of the lives of his enemies and associates alike, but it was well known that Alfie was fiercely protective of his loved ones, leaving Tommy with little more than the knowledge that there was a woman in his life. And those that knew about her were either too loyal or too scared to spill the beans.

It was a rare thing for a woman to fly, but lucky for you, you were raised by a man who lived and breathed planes. A good man who took great pleasure in sharing with you, his only child, his obsession with flying planes. So it was only natural when his obsession became yours. And by the time you could walk and talk, he had you navigating in the cockpit behind him and by the time you were a grown woman you were flying the skies of Britain and Europe during the great war.

Much to your protests, as a female, you were not allowed to fight or fly in any combat zones. Nevertheless, you flew day and night, mostly night, delivering desperately needed medical supplies to some of the most battle heavy regions of Europe, places where the normal corridors of supply had been all but shut down. Your plane may have been small, but the modest supplies you delivered were often the difference between life and death for countless wounded soldiers. And you were good... damn good, slipping in and out of enemy territory, almost always undetected.

And that was how you came to know Alfie. You were ushered into a makeshift hospital set up in a ruined church of some abandoned village, utterly exhausted after flying most of the night. You collapsed on the spare stretcher beside him, intending on a quick feed and a few hours of sleep before heading back to friendly territory for a few days respite when he caught you off guard as you chewed on a mouthful of bread. “Now, what’s a pretty face like yours doin’ in a place like this?” And that was it... you both sat on opposite stretchers and talked for well over an hour, until (in his opinion), you fell asleep mid-sentence and slept for five hours straight. And he was still there when you woke, both his expression and voice not even bothering to hide his eagerness to continue the conversation, “What was it you were sayin’ before you rudely fell asleep?”

Before you knew it, you had wasted half the morning with him. He was so unpolished and rough around the edges, but full of irresistible charm and even though something warned you that he was far from a model citizen, you couldn’t help but like him. And you liked him a lot. So it wasn’t difficult for him when the matron released him from her care with a two day pass, to first, charm his way onto your plane and then second, into your bed when you departed that evening for your few days of rest. And well, you had been together ever since. But this was the first time he had ever let you have anything to do with his day to day business.

The sound of your engine and propellers came first, the plane hidden by a row of pines at the edge of the field, but Tommy would recognise that sound anywhere, bringing back unpleasant memories of his time spent in France. Focused on the direction of the sound, Tommy watched as the small aircraft soared across the trees and over their heads, before turning sharply, with surprising skill and grace, before heading down the field to prepare for landing. Looking to Alfie, he noticed his hands in his pockets, his feet noticeably restless upon the ground, before questioning, “Who you got flying that plane, Alfie? And why do they have you so worked up?”

Arthur and John’s hands brushed over their jackets, an automatic response to reach for their pistols, but Alfie took his fists from his pockets and raised his palms towards them in an effort to keep the peace. “It’s nothin’ like that boys... keep those weapons inside those fancy suits of yours.”

“Then who's flying that plane?” Tommy repeated. But there was no need for Alfie to answer when the plane smoothly and expertly touched down in the empty field and came to a gentle halt beside them. One look at your face and the unease Tommy felt dissolved, noticing for the first time that morning the warm rays of sunshine touching his cheeks.

You were beautiful. Your energy was contagious and your smile disarming. Alfie walked towards you, his body trying to shield you from view, his hand reaching up as if to grab something, but you never gave him the chance. With one swift graceful leap, you jumped from the cockpit to the ground, your arms wrapping around Alfie’s neck with the package in hand, your voice as smooth and graceful as your exit from the plane. “Honey... I hope this package is worth my trouble... I’m missing book club for this.” Then moving your lips to Alfie’s ear you purposely spoke in hushed tones, yet intentionally spoke them loud enough for everyone to hear, “So don’t do anything too strenuous today, because I’ll be expecting your gratitude tonight... And you're going to need every ounce of energy you have.”

Tommy wanted to laugh, but refrained, a sideways glance at his brothers showed their effort as they suppressed their smirks. It was a strange thing to see Alfie so tense without a shred of rage brewing under the surface.

Taking the package from your grip Alfie grabbed you by the elbow and ushered you towards your plane, giving you unnecessary help to climb into the cockpit, his grumble of words easily travelling through the air to Tommy. Words that didn’t affect you in the slightest. “That’s the first and last time I trust you with any of my business, yeah? Now, why didn’t ya just throw the package to me and fly off like I said?”

Settled in your seat, you reached down and placed a palm to his cheek, which he quickly yet gently brushed away, “Because where’s the fun in that? I’ll tell you what... you can punish me all you want tonight.” And just like that you started the engine and disappeared as effortlessly as you arrived, leaving Alfie with his back faced to Tommy, his head giving a single hopeless shake.

Breaking the silence, Tommy spoke with stifled amusement, “She's beautiful, Alfie. But I think you’ve got your hands full with that one.”

Turning on his heels, Alfie was all business again, his previous restlessness and unease suppressed, already talking as he closed the distance between them. “My hands are perfectly sufficient, Tommy.” Then stopping just a few inches before his face, he concluded their little meeting, “And not one fuckin word about her to anyone, or the rest of our deals are off, yeah?”

#alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons oneshot

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drabbles-of-writing · 2 years ago

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So I’m making a Hunter cosplay. Shocker, I know, who could’ve seen that coming? The writer who has entire AU’s dedicated around this kid and the Golden Guards? Surely he never thought about making a cosplay, of course not.

Here’s the situation. I’ve ordered a white cloak from Amazon, because unfortunately Etsy is extremely expensive, but it’s the only thing I got on Amazon. Did I order it a little late? Sure, most definitely, but the point is that I ordered it before Halloween. I currently have a hand-made DIY cloak me and my dad cut and stitched together with some white shirts he’s not using anymore, which is probably the most Hunter thing I’ve done in my life, but the DIY-cloak was only meant to be used yesterday, and today I was supposed to use the actual cloak for an event I’m going to. Because the cloak was supposed to arrive yesterday.

It did not arrive yesterday. I was confused, because we were told it would arrive on Friday. It’s almost nine PM on a Friday night, and no package. Confused, I go to my dad watching TV with my mom, and ask him to check if the package got delayed. Annoying, but I still had the hand-made cloak, so I’d just have to wait a little longer.

Amazon says the package was delivered. We squint at it. I go outside. I check the boxes of other packages we received yesterday, as if somehow there was an unopened box among them we just left on the front porch. I wonder if someone took a box inside and stashed it somewhere and forgot about it.

My dad tells me to come back inside. He knows what happened. At this point I’m thinking, well, maybe we accidentally sent it to the wrong address. We’ve sent packages to friends before, all except one who lived within an hour of us, so that’d just be an amusing accident. Maybe Amazon automatically shipped the package to whoever we’d delivered to last, and we just didn’t think to check.

We look at the address. We stare. My dad looks at me. I am about ready to lose my entire shit.

The package went to my high school.

A singular, twenty dollar white cloak, was sent to my high school’s mail. It is currently sitting in my high school’s mail. It has been sitting there since it first arrived. It had likely arrived as I was already leaving school that very day.

Many questions come to mind. First of all, we have never, in our entire lives, sent a package directly to my high school. Not once. I didn’t even know you could just do that, send a random package to a random high school. Why, in fucks name, did Amazon automatically send a white cloak to my school. How did neither me, nor my dad, who were present for the ordering of this cloak, not notice that the address was different. It is clearly not our address. It’s not even close.

I’m pissed off. Mainly just at the circumstances, because really, what the hell is my life. Who does this. Who orders a white cloak much later than they should have and ends up sending it to their high school. Am I going to have some guys with cameras hiding behind the bushes filming this sitcom I’ve found myself in.

I go back upstairs. I open my computer. In the most regretful email I’ve ever made, I tell my counsellor of my mistake. I ask her if I could pretty please come by and pick up my accidental gift sometime tomorrow.

I remember that it’s Friday. It’s late at night. Nobody on staff is answering any emails or calls over the weekend. I agree with this, it’s a good plan, I support not doing any work when you’re not on the clock. However, right now, it’s making me worried. Because there is a random package this school did not ask for sitting in their mail.

I call the main office. They are also not answering, because of course they aren’t. I call the registrar office for...some reason. I was hoping that maybe she would pick up the phone. Why would she answer when my counsellor and main office wouldn’t? I have no idea.

So now I am here. With one email in my counsellors inbox, two voice mails for the main office and the registrar attendee, and a singular cloak sitting in their physical mail. Which will likely not see the light of day until Monday, maybe not even Tuesday.

I’ve had some weird things happen to me before. I’ve been part of and witnessed some bizarre situations in my, frankly, pretty short life on this planet. This isn’t even the weirdest. It is, however, pretty damn baffling. Maybe even in the top ten “how did that even happen in the first place” situations.

With all that said. Have a happy Halloween, everyone. Make sure to double check where you’re sending orders, and if you have even an inkling of an idea to order something you really want, either order it then, or set reminders to order it within the next 24 hours. Because then you will forget for days on end, and then you will order it late, and then you’ll somehow miss that the address changed to something entirely different despite you never touching it.

But aside from that, the cosplay is actually coming together pretty well. So, y’know, I’ve got that going for me.

#drabble post #cosplay #story #the owl house #I GUESS?#fml #long post #text post #hunter cosplay #what do i even. tag this with.#story time #ok to reblog

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zarara · 3 years ago

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something else?

pairings: dense!diluc x traveler!reader, a little kaeya x reader moment plot: read it and find out (pls my brain is laggy but one day i will write a summary) genre: fluff, angst perhaps note: i am apparently capable of writing fairly straightforward stories

if there was anything in the world you would pay to have an endless supply of, it would have to be tea… though the idea of infinite mora sounded as interesting, you were sure your talents in combat would make sure you didn’t find yourself broke or clueless like zhongli.

it’s just that tea was perfect — coffee was a close contender but the bitter aftertaste always found you having to pile it up with more sugar than healthy. tea also had no aftermath on your already deranged sleep schedule. it tasted sweet but rich, it was efficient, and it was warm.

you usually enjoyed your daily cup of tea in the solitude of your chambers but today you were making an exception because kaeya, your superior and over-the-top flirt of a friend, insisted you take your evening snack with him at the tavern.

“there isn’t even a snack provision at the tavern! it’s a tavern for archon’s sake!” kaeya is great at ignoring your complaints as he pulls you into the seat next to him.

“i asked sara to bring some honey roast over for us,” kaeya winks at the young man handling the counter in lieu of an order and you hurriedly pipe up a “tea for me please!”

“now, would you please stop your whining, you baby?”

your mouth drops open, “i’m the baby? you were the one begging to take me to drinks instead of helping me finish that pack of hilichurls!”

“i did mention that i got rid of that abyss mage for you when you weren’t looking.”

“i don’t understand you, kaeya,” you take hold of the cup that the man behind the counter sets down, “but anyway, what is it you want from me?”

kaeya smirks over his glass of dandelion wine, “ah, quite straightforward, aren’t we?”

you kick his shin ungently, “let me ask again: what do you want?”

kaeya takes a sip and becomes uncharacteristically quiet. in fact, he doesn’t even comment when you keep staring at him.

“kaeya…?”

before you can continue to investigate what’s up with him, you hear a familiar voice behind your shoulder.

“well, what have we here?”

“diluc!” the red haired man takes place of the young man who looks relieved to not have to bear witness as a bartender.

“hello, y/n, how do you do?”

you smile, the warmth in diluc’s voice going unmissed, “i’m just fine, although a certain someone has taken it upon themselves to ruin my ritual of tea and silence.”

kaeya props a hand around your shoulders, “i’m just repaying you for getting rid of all those gnarly hilichurls.”

whatever was bothering kaeya a moment ago seems to have disappeared, especially in the presence of his arch rival, diluc.

diluc calmly reaches over to lift kaeya’s hand off your shoulder as if it’s the corpse of a slime he’s picking up and hurls it away. “please, kaeya, i thought you didn’t pursue women who’d clearly expressed their lack of interest.”

“and i thought you were too superior to everyone else to stick your nose in their business.”

“well,” you butt in before the two can actually slit each other’s throats, “i thought it was reasonable to agree to work under jean but i guess we all have things we’re wrong about, don’t we?”

diluc’s expression dampens into something like sadness when you mention your overworked state but you brush it off by chugging the rest of your tea. “oh, before i forget,” you rummage through your meagre backpack before removing a package, handing it over to kaeya, “this is for you.”

kaeya looks perplexed, looking between you and diluc, and slowly places a hand on the package, “for me?”

“a client painted the scenery from luhua for me because i found his paintbrushes and supplies, and i know you like your souvenirs, so you can have it.”

“....” kaeya is still speechless and diluc has you pinned with a look of suspicion.

“but why would give it to him?”

“because i go to luhua way too often already and i know kaeya is usually stuck around monstadt so…”

“that’s incredibly sweet of you, my love,” kaeya regains his senses and as you stand up to leave, he pulls you into a hug.

“you’re welcome, boss,” you smile as you pull away, “anyway, i must be on my way.”

“do you think the traveller is with someone?”

maids at dawn winery sure do love to gossip.

“with her looks and strength, for sure! my bets are on master diluc.”

okay, look, you didn’t meant to eavesdrop on them but they were right there when you came out of the washroom. you were going to walk out and pretend like you hadn’t heard them but hearing diluc’s name shook you.

“no,, what about mr kaeya? i heard they hang out after long, tiring quests all the time.”

“but she and master diluc love to discuss-”

all righty, time to evacuate.

“!!”

you manage to keep a poker face as you throw the door open in their faces and stride past them, making your way to the room with diluc.

you quickly dash in, closing the door behind you. you knOW your face is flushed so you turn away from diluc.

diluc frowns. that’s weird. why are you hiding from him?

he rises from his chair, “y/n? is everything okay? are you hurt?”

“y-yeah, i’m just embarrassed.”

you feel yourself being turned around by two big hands on your elbows.

diluc’s concerned eyes meet yours and you almost melt into a puddle of slimy plasma because he’s so hot even though he’s just worried.

“you’re red. why are you red?”

“...i’m fine.”

as if he’s aware of your flustered state, he moves closer to your face in order to look into your eyes which makes a new batch of blood flow to your face.

“y/n, you need to tell me what’s wrong. is it a fever? i can call—”

“nO! it’s nothing. just—!” you break away from his (very intense) hold and move away into the room for fresh air. “stupid me.”

“no way, she did not!”

diluc is immensely frustrated with venti. he has the most unusual reactions to everything diluc says and usually he doesn’t give a shit, but this is about you and your weird state yesterday, so yES he gives a shit!! >:-(

“yes, she did. i’m telling you she did. why are you—”

“oh, i heard you, i just can’t believe that the calm and strong little traveler would lose her cool and around you of all people!”

“heY, what do you mean? i’m perfectly fine as a person to lose one’s cool around.”

yep, diluc has no idea what he’s saying.

it’s just

he thinks the world of you

he really, really likes spending time with you (even when you guys are just talking about the fatui’s next move! or how you found new cool ways to take down an abyss mage!)

you’re so sweet and you don’t take his words for what they’re not. you’re not taken aback by his bluntness and you’re able to make him laugh.

what more does he need in life

well, apparently, venti because he has no idea what to do after you suddenly left the dawn winery that day.

“ugh”

“you’re really worried, huh?”

“was that not crystal clear by now? i came all the way to windrise to talk to you!”

venti chuckles his annoying chuckle

“okay, okay, i’ll help you,” diluc sighs as he waits venti to go on, “here’s what i think: she likes you back.”

what

diluc.exe has stopped working

man just blanks out

short-circuits, fireworks, malfunction — you name it.

“diluc?”

“no.”

“what do you mean, no?”

“first of all, why did you say ‘likes you back’? i- i don’t like her or anything. and secondly, no, she does not like me.”

“i’m going to pretend like i didn’t even hear the first part. about the second thing, here’s a question for you: why?”

“because she likes kaeya!”

venti pauses, “i was not aware there was another contender. diluc, you bastard, tell me all the details next time.”

“does this mean she just hates my guts?”

“no, it just means she may or may not like you. back.”

“i told you—!” venti stands up breaking off diluc’s sentence midway, brushing grass off his palms.

“take her to dinner or something tonight and ask her.”

“ask her? ask her what— wait, where are you going, you stupid bard— ASK HER WHAT?”

life is hard for a traveller

you’ve just managed to finish delivering grilled fish to a jack who wants become more manly when katheryne sets you thREE more commissions saying there was a crazy influx of requests suddenly.

you barely manage to uproot two hilichurl camps, and by the third quest, you’re quite dead inside. if only some rogue eye of the storm wasn’t terrorizing civilians.

you’ve gotten in a hit or two in when you skip over a stone and fall right on your face

“fUCK!”

shit

ouch

ouch shit

that hurt

you manage to twist around and keep the eye away with a half-earnest windblade attack and try to sit up.

damn it, is this the pitiful way you die? dammit, you at least wanted to drink your evening tea—

a flash of fiery thunder catches your attention

is that…?

“y/n! stay where you are!”

yup, it’s diluc in all his dark knight hero glory. he finishes off the stupid green eyeball in less than three fire-charged strikes.

you sigh in relief, falling back against the grass.

“hey, hey, hey,” diluc enters your field of vision, red strands falling into his face as he leans down to cradle your head in his lean arms, “where did you injure yourself?”

you tremble a little as you try to lift your foot, “a-ah, my right foot. i twisted my ankle probably. thanks for fi—”

“shh-shh, you’ll have plenty of time to thank me. come on, can you sit up?”

you grab his wrist and prop yourself against his chest so that you’re practically in his lap.

“that’s great, let me take a look at—”

“mhm!! don’t move. please,” you can feel diluc’s breathing tense behind you as you lean into him, “i think the eye hit me while i was down- my neck— ah, fuck—” your hand comes away from your nape soaked in red, “it’s bleeding.”

“it’s all right, you’ll be just fine. just get comfortable and i’m going to lift you up. think you can manage?”

you nod as one of diluc’s hands comes to rest under your knees, folding them and the other tenderly embraces your upper back.

“tell me if it hurts too much.”

he heaves the both of you up and the shock stings your exposed neck a little but you’ll survive.

everything is beginning to become blurry so you lift your hand to feel diluc and meet his chest. despite everything, you smile, aware he’s speaking because you can feel him vibrating but the words are all mushed up and you can feel yourself slipping away.

even though usually you would panic at feeling your consciousness fading but right now, it’s okay because it’s diluc who’s holding you and you know it’s him because just before the black collapses on you, you hear him.

“you’re fine, kitten.”

“—up! y/n, it’s me.”

mhhm, what a sweet voice. so soft and melodious.

“y/n, i can see you smiling in your sleep,” the voice comes closer, “come on, everyone’s really worried.”

the world materializes in front of you as you fight against the closing of your heavy eyelids. “barbara?”

“y/n! you’re alive!”

“i am?”

why would you not be alive?

…

right

the eye

stupid thing

wait a minute,.,.,.

you remember diluc saving your arse.

oh righT

that’s because he did!

he—

he was holding you?

you were in his lap????????

wait a minute!! that sounds wrong

“am i dreaming?”

“really, of all the people you know, do you really see yourself dreaming of me, traveller? last time i saw you, you wanted to steal the holy lyre from—”

“y/n!!”

holy shit

that’s the voice of your saviour

noo

stop the clock

you’re not ready to meet him!!!!!!!

“ah, it’s master diluc! he was so worried about you the whole time you were dead— i mean, asleep,” you redden as the tall man appears in front of you, “kaeya had to force him to leave and get some food but—”

“ahem!” diluc cuts barbara off with a strong clearing of his throat and she throws him a look before standing up from your side.

“i guess i’ll leave you two alone then!”

“wait, barbara, you should stay—”

and she’s gone.

you slowly look up to face diluc

“how are you feeling?”

“much better,” he sits next to you and you smile, “thanks to you.”

diluc frowns as if remembering something unpleasant, “i really wish you wouldn’t just bear all the load.”

“you found out from…”

“kaeya mentioned he hadn’t seen you around the town square as he usually does and when i went to speak with katheryne, she said she’d had no choice but to send you off on extra commissions.”

you look down, “i’m sorry. i wanted to ask someone to come along but everyone seemed busy and—”

“you never checked up on me though,” you bite your lip, “i would have known.”

“that’s- that’s because you’re always busy, what with the winery and your dark knight—”

“y/n,” you stop speaking with a pout and diluc raises your chin with his finger, “promise me you’ll tell someone next time things get so overwhelming. tell me, i’m never going to be occupied enough to not help you out.”

you blush agaiN

stupid kind diluc

“thanks, diluc.”

“and you can stop feeling sorry for me.”

when you look at diluc he looks he’s just caught you red-handed.

“what—”

“i wanted to help you,” you nod, “what’s more, i think i quite enjoyed it.”

“enjoyed. . . carrying an injured woman to safety? you might have a saviour complex, diluc. or perhaps, some sort of a kink.”

you expect diluc to lash back with a defensive retort but to your absolute and complete surprise, he smirks.

the man smiRKS

he’s all ;)

“oh? i won’t deny that,” your stomach suddenly feels queasy all over again as diluc inches closer (and you’re wondering in your head WHEN DID SATAN, OR WORSE KAEYA, POSSESS THIS MAN?!), “but while we’re on the topic of kinks and enjoying ourselves, you seemed to quite like sitting in my lap.”

“diluc!” your exclamation is one of disbelief because you cannot believe that diluc, the man who has never once made an inappropriate joke around you, is openly accepting that he has a kink and is accusing you of having one.

“what? am i wrong? when i tried to move, you stopped me immediately.”

“y-yeah, i did, but—” you’re trying with all your heart to defend your actions but diluc has managed to come close enough to tap his fingers against your outstretched knee. “it was— you were warm and my neCK was bleeding. was i supposed to just die out there?”

“i suppose you’re right, i am warm.”

“exactly.”

you seemed to have dodged a disaster because diluc is distracted by the cuts on your knee and the bandage around your ankle. his slender finger dance down your shin to touch the fabric of the white material tied tightly and he gently holds it.

“does it still hurt?”

“i don’t know, i haven’t tried walking.”

“do you wanna?”

you nod eagerly and diluc offers his hand but before you can be tempted into taking it, you cross your arms.

“why should i hold your hand?”

“because we need to first test if you can even walk without help.” diluc looks confused and you decide that whatever demon possessed him moments ago is long gone.

“correct answer,” you take his hand, and slowly stand up.

“hmm,” your right foot hurts a little but it’s better than you imagined. you tell diluc that.

“that’s a relief,” you reach the door of the empty cathedral and diluc puts his hand on the door, “would you like to take a walk?”

“is diluc around?”

“ah, he said he’ll be back in five. he’s personally delivering some paperwork to the acting headmaster.”

“alright, thanks!”

you’re excited!! it’s friday and today, you and diluc are going aLL the way to liyue to get dinner and stargaze as a post-dinner activity. diluc said he was friends with xiangling who’d always wanted him to come and try her dishes out sometime and he’d asked you earlier if you’d be interested to join him.

of course you were. it sounded like a date! in fact by the way you had spent all afternoon choosing the deep maroon skirt and contrasting white blouse, you were convinced to view it as a date.

“y/n, i apologize to have kept you waiting,” a breathless (and dashing) diluc appears by your side and you smile.

“no problem, diluc, i heard you were doing some important work.”

the both of you leave the tavern, “not exactly important, but let’s just say that while i may not be interested in the knights of favonius, i do value my life somewhat.”

“jean’s scares you, too, huh,” you laugh.

it’s not like diluc is realizing this for the first time but: you’re beautiful

like yeah, you have great hair and dazzling eyes that are bright when you’re happy and a dangerous smile but in the night, in this ethereal lighting, you’re taking his breath away.

“this place looks so fancy,” you’re seated across from him as you play with the ends of your hair. “when i come to this inn, i usually remain on the periphery but wow, this is quite impressive.”

“well, xiangling did say she got pretty famous as a cook around here.” diluc feels dazed especially since half his attention is occupied by how adorable you look.

the night progresses like this; diluc captivated by your blinding beauty and you trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’re on a daTE with diluc.

“oh, hey, look, it’s a silk flower!” you run over to the short, maroon plant, plucking a few flowers out, “xingqiu was telling me how much he loves these.”

he kneels next to you, smiling, “they are quite the pleasant plants.”

“they sorta remind me of you.”

“me?”

diluc touches the stem as you play around with the buds, “yes. for starters, you’re both red. and you both smell nice. you make wine, these make clothes. and if you think about it, wine is the silk of alcohol.”

his fingers collide against yours in the quaint flower, “that’s an intriguing comparison. wine and silk. . .” before you can pull away, diluc takes hold of your hand, pulling you up after him.

he can feel you stiffen a little and then mold back into place, your tiny hand squeezing against his bigger one. the road has become quieter as you travel further from the inn, and more stars start to peek out from the sky.

“thank you for taking me out to dinner, diluc.”

“thank you for having dinner with me, y/n.”

you suddenly giggle a little as if remembering a memory. “what’s funny?”

you look at him and then back down, biting down on your lip — a terrible habit really but especially terrible right now, because it only draws his attention to the soft pink lips he was trying not to look at the whole night (which was made even harder when xiangling decided to serve you the spicier dishes).

“that time you saved me from the eye, you called me something right before i fainted.”

diluc smiles fondly, “kitten?” he is pleasantly surprised when you giggle again, cheeks tinting the loveliest pink. “what’s this? could it be you enjoy being called kitten?”

you squeeze his hand slightly, “maybe…”

diluc’s heart almost gives out on spot

he’s sO whipped for you it hurts physically

“y/n—”

before he can say anything else, you pull him ahead with you because well,,,, you’re embarrassed

“come on, we should go stargaze before it gets too late.”

diluc smiles and allows you to drag him to the clearing at the edge of a cliff.

“i remembered this cliff from one of my adventures,” you plop down onto the grass and hesitantly, diluc follows

“hmm, it’s very peaceful here. i’m going to have to note this down as one of my future hideouts.”

you grin, “don’t reveal that to me. i might end up following you here and you won’t have any of your good ole introspection time.”

your tone is teasing but for once, diluc feels that his needs for alone time are being acknowledged by your light-hearted threat. he shifts closer, heart on the verge of bursting.

“i like you, y/n,” it comes right out of his mouth, clear and loud, the way diluc always dreamed of confessing but never managed to nail during his endless practices

you, on the other hand, are at the risk of a heart attack. you don’t want to pretend to be clueless and dense — diluc did ask you out for dinner when he could be spending the evening doing something more intellectually enriching — but at the same time, you feel like you can’t be sure enough

because it’s diluc!! he’s so complicated, he has so many layers

“you like me?” you keep your gazed fixed on the stars above just so you can mask your disappointment in case he clarifies that he likes you but, of course, as a friend who easily gets in trouble and happens to be around his tavern all the time

but inside diluc’s head are alarms. literal ALARMS. red, blaring alarms.

“i- you have no obligation to accept my feelings or give me answer but i’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time now. i really like you in a way i didn’t think possible. you’re so kind and funny and you make profound judgements about people, without being swayed by the biases that surround them and you’re so brave. but i know you have many men courting you and you did seem to have a soft spot for kaeya so this is—”

“i like you, too, diluc.”

diluc.exe has stopped working part 2 the finale

no more brain cells for him

“diluc?”

“you’re being honest?”

“of course i am. i’ve liked you ever since you took down that abyss mage with me. i don’t know how i’m expected to not fall for the dark knight hero.”

despite his dislike for the nickname, diluc blushes and you laugh at his small adorable smile

but the next moment it’s as if a switch has been flipped and suddenly his flustered face turns into a look of lust

his hands are on your waist, pulling you close until you can feel his hot breath against your lips

your hand comes up his face, tenderly cupping it and your lips crash

diluc groans against your lips when your other hand gingerly finds his hair and to say the least, you are extremely attracted to the sound of him groaning, low and deep

“come closer,” your plea is almost petulant as your grip on his hair tightens. diluc lifts you into his lap, arms around you

but he suddenly pulls away and it kills him to do so because you are a sight to behold, lips redder than ever, mouth half open, and breath heavy

“what in the fuck—” your dismay is clear as you frown at the concerned expression on diluc’s face, “hey, what’s wrong? did i—”

“why did you give kaeya that gift?”

for a moment you think you must be dreaming because it would be absolutely ridiculous if the man stopped your make-out session just to ask you—

“i mean, why not… me?” diluc’s voice has become small, gaze averted as if he’s scared he messed up

you sigh, bringing both your hands to cup his face, squishing his cheeks slightly to make him look at you

“listen, diluc, i have no feelings for kaeya. he’s just one of my nicer superiors and i wanted to thank him for being understanding. and i meant what i said that day — it genuinely reminded me of how he’s stuck around the favonius headquarters.”

diluc processes what you have to say and then, after a few silent beats:

“he’s only nice to you because he’s into you.”

“diluc, will you please just make out with me?”

you pull him back into a kiss and this time, he returns with more passion, one hand boldly cupping your ass and you can’t help but shiver at the sensation of his warm hand

you begin to reach under his shirt when you realize something

“wait, diluc,” you sit up, twisting to look up at the sky, “we were supposed to stargaze. you seemed so excited about it, you even called it the post-dinner activity.”

diluc caresses your arm as he slowly restores the distance between you, eyes on your lips.

he whispers against the nape of your neck, “i’m sure we can think of another post-dinner activity,” his fingers graze your stomach, “right, kitten?”

#this ending is kinda creepy but pls forgive me #diluc x reader #diluc imagines #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x y/n #diluc fluff #diluc angst #genshin impact #kaeya appearance #diluc x you #i have conflicting feelings about diluc but fuck it #diluc scenarios

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expectingtofly · 4 years ago

Text

Sign Here

AU-Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Dean is a UPS Driver, Cas and Dean are idiots, Gabe is trying to help

4k (oops this fic got long)

also posted on ao3

written for Day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 2k Followers Celebration <3 <3

Castiel knelt on the grass to pull up some stubborn weeds in the garden lining the front of his newly-bought house. The previous inhabitants had left behind a tangled mess of rose bushes and weeds, and after a week of unpacking boxes, he was happy to finally have time to spend outside. One of the perks of moving from an apartment to a small bungalow—finally space for a garden. Although, he was sure the inside of his house would soon become just as packed with plants as his apartment had been.

Engrossed as he was in weeding and planning what flowers he would plant to expand the garden, he didn’t hear someone approach until a shadow fell over the dirt.

Startling, he looked up to see a man standing on the walkway next to him. “What—oh.” By the man’s clothes—brown collared shirt and shorts—and the package he was holding, Castiel realized he was a UPS delivery driver. “Hello.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the driver said, fighting back a smile.

Castiel stood, brushing dirt off his hands. “It’s alright.”

The man held out a package. “I was gonna deliver this to your front door, unless you want to take it now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking it, Castiel looked down at the label, trying to remember what he had ordered. Something for his kitchen, probably.

“Did you just move in?” the UPS driver asked. His eyes were very green, a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Freckles everywhere, Castiel realized, seeing the way they lightly spotted his bare arms. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Realizing he was staring, Castiel reddened, glanced down at the package in his hands. “Uh, yes, I did. Last week.”

“Welcome to Bloomfield, then.” He nodded at the rose bushes. “Nice garden you got here.”

“You don’t have to lie, it’s a mess.” The driver laughed and Castiel smiled a little. “It’s not much now. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it up soon.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, see how things develop.” The man took a step back and gestured to the UPS truck on the street. “I’ve got other packages to deliver. Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Castiel said, watching him leave. Kneeling down to continue yanking out the prickly weeds, he smiled. It was nice to meet someone friendly; he hadn’t gotten to meet many people yet with the chaos of moving in. Of course, he thought, glancing back at the UPS truck as it rumbled down the street, it didn’t hurt that the driver was extremely attractive as well.

***

The next week, Castiel was hanging up art prints in his living room when he heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was for a package he’d ordered, he took his time getting to the door, straightening the print on the wall before weaving through the cardboard boxes he still hadn’t unpacked.

When he opened the front door, however, he was surprised to see the green-eyed UPS driver standing on his porch holding the package.

The man’s face brightened. “Hi. Got a delivery for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, opening the door wider. “I didn’t realize you were waiting. I thought you delivery drivers just dropped off the package and disappeared.”

The UPS driver laughed. Such a nice laugh, Castiel thought. “Right, yeah, that’s what we normally do. But, uh, we have a new policy. Have to get a signature for packages.” He handed over a clipboard and pen, pointing to the line at the bottom of the page. "Just sign here."

“Oh. Alright.” Castiel took the clipboard and signed his name. When he handed it back, he saw the man glance at the signature. “Castiel,” he supplied.

“Cool name. I’m Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Having been occupied all week with moving in and subsequently starved for conversation, he added, “You’re one of the first people I’ve met so far. The other being a cashier at that grocery store down the street.”

“Still getting settled in?”

“Yes. It’s taking much longer than I anticipated. I hate unpacking. It never seems to end.”

“Yeah, moving’s a bitch. You liking the place so far, though?”

Castiel nodded. “I do. Much improved from the apartment where I was living before.”

“God, I bet. I share an apartment with my brother—don’t get me wrong, I like living with him, but our landlord’s an asshole.” He gestured to the right. “Garden’s looking great.”

“Thank you. I just bought petunias, but I haven’t had a chance to plant them.” He pointed at the small brown box Dean was still holding. “That should be new gardening gloves in there.”

“Oh, right, your package.” Dean’s face looked a little red as he handed the box over. “Um, well, I should be on my way. See ya.” He stepped off the porch with a wave and Castiel waved back before going inside.

As he unpacked his belongings, he realized filling a house was harder than he’d thought. There were so many household items he was missing. Perhaps a trip to the store would be faster, but ordering online was easier—or so he told himself as he opened his laptop.

I’m only trying to save myself time, he reasoned, though inwardly he might have been hoping Dean would deliver the package.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he found himself growing more impatient over the next few days. Then, one afternoon as he organized his silverware drawer, he heard the doorbell ring. He practically ran to the front door, then paused and steadied himself before opening it, waiting a few seconds so it wouldn’t seem like he’d rushed over.

It might not even be Dean, he chastised himself as he unlocked the door.

Dean smiled at him when he swung the door wide.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, trying to sound casual and hide his smile.

“Hi.” He looked to be about Castiel’s age. What were the chances that someone this attractive was single? “Got another package. A heavy one this time.”

Pushing away those thoughts, Castiel took it from him and placed it inside on the floor. “Thank you. Don’t I have to sign something?”

“Uh, shit, yeah.” Dean handed over the clipboard and pen, and as Castiel signed, he nodded at the package. “Something else for the garden?”

Castiel shook his head, handing back the clipboard. “A mixer. I thought maybe I could try my hand at baking. My mom sent me a few of her recipes.”

Dean’s eyes brightened. “You ever want inspiration, there’s a diner, other side of town, a few blocks from where I live, that makes the best pie. Makes them fresh every morning.”

“I’ll have to go sometime.” He stopped short of saying that maybe he’d see Dean there, not wanting to sound too excited at the prospect.

Maybe I should order more things for the kitchen, he thought, shutting the door after saying goodbye to Dean. Or a new bath mat, and curtains, maybe. The boxes he had yet to unpack scolded him by their presence, but he ignored them. If receiving new items meant talking to a friendly face, who could blame him?

***

“You sure get a lot of packages,” Dean remarked the next week when Castiel opened the door.

Castiel reddened. “Turns out it’s hard to fill a whole house.”

“I’m not complaining, you’re the one giving me a job to do.” Dean handed over the package. “What’s it this week?”

“A watering can.”

“You really like to garden, don’t you?” Dean gestured to the flowers and plants lining the front of the house. “I mean, you’ve added a lot since moving in.”

“Yes, well, I find it’s a wonderful way to wind down after work.”

Dean nodded. “I get that. Any spare time I have, I work on my car.”

Castiel glanced at the UPS truck, because he hadn’t really considered Dean driving anything else. His heart beat a little faster at the thought of running into Dean somewhere else, at the diner, at the grocery store. He wondered how Dean dressed when he wasn’t in his uniform, what else he did in his free time.

Dean followed his gaze to the street and gestured to the UPS truck. “This thing, it’s crap. No AC, no radio. What do you drive?” He glanced at Castiel’s driveway. “That a Lincoln Continental? 78? 77?”

Castiel caught the derisive tone in his voice. “78. And I like it,” he added defensively.

Dean smiled, raising his hands. “Eye of the beholder, I guess. You ever need work done on it, let me know, I can help.” His eyes widened a little at his own words. “I mean, you don’t need to, I just meant, if you want. I’m good at that stuff.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the offer.” Inwardly, he cursed his car for being so reliable. Maybe the engine light would turn on and he could take him up on his offer. Or maybe Dean was only being friendly and didn’t really mean it.

When Dean headed back to his truck and Castiel shut the door, he realized Dean hadn’t asked him to sign anything. Maybe he’d only forgotten.

***

“Gotten acquainted with the locals?” Gabriel asked a few nights later when he called to see how Castiel was settling in.

“I talked with one of my neighbors yesterday. Arla. She’s eighty-two and owns three cats.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, Castiel glanced at the mixer. “And, uh, I did meet someone else. Someone my age, not a neighbor. Dean.”

“Met someone? Like went on a date with—”

“No, he works for the UPS, he’s been delivering my packages.” He was interrupted by Gabriel laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“So instead of going out and meeting real people, you’re making friends with the delivery guy.”

“Dean is real,” Castiel protested. “He’s very kind and friendly. And helpful. He’s told me about places to check out in town and complimented my garden—”

“Damn, Cas, sounds like you really like this guy.”

“No, he’s just a nice person,” Castiel insisted. By Gabriel’s laughter, he knew he wasn’t being believable. “Alright, fine. I enjoy talking to him.” He wasn’t going to tell Gabriel that seeing Dean was becoming his favorite part of the week.

“He single?”

“Um. Yes.” He may or may not have asked Arla if she knew Dean, and may or may not have learned that she couldn’t believe “a charming young man like him is still single.” Oh, and that if she were a younger woman, she would be ordering packages left and right to flirt with him when he delivered. Castiel did not appreciate that last part, even if Arla had no idea how close to the truth she’d struck. I’m not flirting, he argued inwardly.

“Well, are you going to make a move or not?” When Castiel didn’t respond right away, Gabriel added, “Right, I forgot who I’m talking to.”

“I might,” Castiel protested. “But we only just met. And I don’t even know if he likes me. He’s only doing his job.”

“May as well ask him out, see what he says.”

Castiel sighed. “I don’t want to rush into anything. I only just moved here.”

“Well, you snooze, you lose, Cas. Don’t miss out on something just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!”

I’m not scared, he repeated to himself when he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He was being reasonable. But maybe Gabriel was right. Dean had to be somewhat interested—delivery guys didn’t just stick around to talk after delivering a package. Maybe he’d test the waters, try to see if Dean was truly interested or just being friendly.

***

A few days later, he was watering his petunias when Dean got out of his truck with another package.

“Hey, Cas!” he called.

“Hello, Dean.” Setting down his water can, he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thank you,” he said, taking the narrow box from Dean. Before he lost his courage, he spoke up, “I, um, made a pie this morning.” Whether he’d made it specifically to offer to Dean was something he’d never admit to anyone, much less himself. “I was wondering if you wanted a slice? You can tell me if it’s good or not.”

Dean broke into a grin. “Shit, Cas, really? Yeah, thanks.”

“Wait here, I’ll grab it.”

When he returned to the doorway with a paper plate covered in foil, he caught Dean looking inside his house.

“It’s still a mess in here,” Castiel said, handing the plate over. “I’ve been kinda busy with work.”

“No, yeah, totally, no judgement.” He peeled back the foil and inhaled. “Fuck, I’m starving. This looks amazing.” Picking up the slice, he took a bite. “Mmm,” he said, rolling his eyes back.

“Good?” Castiel asked, amused.

“So good,” Dean said, his voice muffled. He swallowed. “You’re a natural.”

“Thank you. I have more, if you’d like it.”

“Don’t tempt me. Yes.”

Grinning, Castiel went back inside and packaged up two more slices, brought them to Dean.

“You’re an angel,” Dean said. “Seriously.” He juggled the plates in his hands. “So, where do you work?”

Castiel leaned on the doorway. “I work here. I’m an editor. I do freelance work.”

“Dude, that’s cool. Nice that you get to work from home.” Looking down at his watch, he swore quietly. “Sorry, I need to keep moving. I’ve got a lot of deliveries today.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, disappointed, straightening. “Alright. Sorry for keeping you so long.”

“No problem, this was a nice break.” He stepped off the walkway. “Thanks for the pie.”

“You’re welcome.” Ask him for his number. Ask him if he would like to go out. But he kept quiet and watched Dean cross the yard back to his truck.

***

That night, Castiel ordered a set of bookends shaped like trees. He checked his email the next few days, tracking the package. On the day it was to be delivered, he had to run errands and got stuck in traffic. When he pulled into his driveway, he saw a package sitting on the front porch. Shit. He’d missed Dean.

Grabbing his bag of groceries, he walked over and picked up the package with his free hand. Then he noticed a note taped to the top.

Sorry I missed you, it read. The pie was incredible.

Castiel smiled.

***

Sunlight streamed through his living room windows as Castiel organized his books on his bookshelves. He was just pushing his new bookends into place when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he went to the front door and looked out through the window. Dean?

“Hello, Dean,” he said, opening the door. “I wasn’t expecting a package today.”

“Oh, really?” Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile as he turned around the cardboard box in his hands. Bold black letters were written across the front: SAY HI TO DEAN FOR ME.

Castiel’s eyes widened and he snatched the box out of Dean’s hands. “What? I don’t know how—” He scanned the box for the label. Gabriel, he realized. “It’s my brother,” he explained. “I was telling him about you, he must’ve sent me this to embarrass me, I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s smile won out. “No, it’s fine, that’s kinda hilarious.” He shifted his stance, the wooden porch boards creaking. “You, uh, you told him about me?”

Castiel’s head snapped up from glaring at Gabe’s name on the return label. “Um, yes,” he faltered. “Well, I was just telling him that I met someone, and it’s been nice to, uh, uh, have a friend.”

Friend? He hardly knew Dean, for fuck’s sake. For all he knew, he was just a random person Dean spoke to occasionally on his route, no more important than Arla or any of the other people he delivered to.

But Dean smiled. “Yeah, uh, me too. I mean, I like meeting people on my route, just makes the day a lot better when I get to stop and talk.” He reddened a little and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at his boots.

“I hope I don’t keep you from your other deliveries,” Castiel said.

Dean waved his hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I get the other ones done fast so I can spend more time here.” He cut himself off and reddened even further, as if realizing what he was admitting.

So, Dean was deliberately trying to see him, talk to him. Castiel felt his face heat up as well. “I’m sure delivering packages all day can be very boring,” he offered.

Dean nodded quickly. “Yeah, ya know, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I’m just trying to make sure this neighborhood’s newest resident is doing okay.” He grinned. “Think of me as the welcome committee.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Really.”

Dean nodded again, and they stood there awkwardly for a few long moments. Castiel glanced back down at the box, Gabe’s words ringing in his head. Ask him out, see what he says.

“I’ll get on my way,” Dean said, stepping back. He smiled a little. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“I will.” Maybe he should just blurt it out. Dean had said he enjoyed stopping by here. But maybe he only meant that in a friendly way. Castiel had called him a friend, after all. He chickened out. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.” Dean walked away and Castiel glared down at the box.

“Not helpful,” he told it.

***

“Gabe, I hate you.”

“What? I was just trying to spark conversation between you two—”

“I hate you. I can hold a conversation well enough myself, thank you very much. You only made things awkward.” He paused before adding, “Dean says hi, by the way.”

Gabriel cheered and Castiel pulled his phone away from his ear. “So it worked? You asked him out?”

“Um...” Castiel pulled at a rip on his gardening jeans. “No.”

“Cassie!” Gabriel whined. “I did all that work for nothing? What’s the holdup? Ask him out.”

Castiel groaned. “I will. Eventually. But, I mean, can he even say yes? He’s on the job—”

“Cas, he’s already taking time out of his workday to talk to you. Pretty sure he’ll say yes, even if he’s working. Stop making excuses.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.” He only said it to get Gabriel off his back, but his palms grew sweaty even thinking about it.

“You better. Keep me updated.”

“Only if you never pull a prank like that again.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

***

Seated at his desk, Castiel frowned at an awkwardly worded sentence that refused to form itself into any coherency. Was the past tense of lie lay or laid? Why couldn’t he ever remember?

The doorbell ringing drew his attention and, grateful for the break, he saved the document he was editing and got up. Going to the front door, he wondered if he had any left-over pie to give Dean and drag out their time together in the doorway.

Opening the door, he began to say hello, then paused. A UPS delivery man was walking away to his truck, a package at Castiel’s feet on his front porch.

“Wait!” Castiel called, stepping outside. The man turned—not Dean. Someone he’d never seen before. “Who the hell are you?”

The man looked startled. “I, uh, I’m a delivery—”

“No, sorry.” Castiel flushed. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dean?” The man frowned. “I don’t know who that is. We all got new routes a few days ago. He must be on another route now.”

Castiel��s heart sank. “Oh.” Another route? He looked down at the package. “Don’t I have to sign something?”

“No, you’re all good. We don’t require signatures.” The man continued to his truck and Castiel picked up the package. A lattice pastry roller to make more intricate pie crusts. He’d thought Dean might appreciate the effort.

Shutting the door, he stood in the foyer for a moment. So, Dean was gone. Why hadn’t he ever asked for Dean’s number? He’d had plenty of opportunities.

It’s a small town, he reasoned. I’ll see him again, I have to. He knew Dean lived on the other side of town, maybe if he drove around there, kept an eye out—

Alright, stop, he told himself. He was starting to sound crazy. He dropped the package off on the kitchen table. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

***

The next day, Castiel was seated at his desk, sending an email to a client, when the doorbell rang.

His pulse sped up, and instinctively he rose from his chair. Then he remembered that Dean didn’t deliver to his house anymore. Sighing, he sat back down.

He’d been trying not to think of it, but every other item in his house—the mixer, the bookends, the pastry roller—only reminded him of Dean and brought down his mood.

Why didn’t I take Gabe’s advice? he bemoaned inwardly. That was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it looked like Gabe had been right. He’d lost his chance.

Staring at his computer screen, he tried to focus on his work, but the distraction had ruined his focus. At least I’ll save money, he reasoned ruefully, now that he had no excuse for making random purchases.

The doorbell rang again and he lifted his head, frowning. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ordering anything. Maybe it was Arla, coming over to say hello.

Rising, he went to the front door and tried to remember the name of that diner Dean had told him about. Maybe he’d stake out there on a weekend, see if Dean showed up. Or was that creepy?

Definitely creepy, he decided with a sigh, opening the door. Then he froze.

“Dean?”

Standing on his front porch—this time in jeans and a black t-shirt, holding a potted fern—was Dean. He smiled hesitantly, almost nervously. “Hi, Cas.”

“What are you doing here?” Castiel looked at the street, but of course the familiar UPS truck wasn’t there. In its place was a sleek, black car.

“My route changed and I, uh, never got to say bye. So I thought I’d just come over. Sorry if that’s weird—”

“No, I’m happy to see you. Just surprised. I thought I’d never…”

Dean grinned. “Scared you’d lost me forever?”

Castiel smiled. “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted.

“I, um, I brought you this.” He held out the plant, laughed nervously. “I felt weird coming over without anything to deliver.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” Taking the plant, he stroked the leaves. “I know exactly where to put it.” His heart pounded as he realized now was his chance. He had to take it.

He started to ask for Dean’s number, but Dean started talking too, and they both stopped, laughing. “You first,” Castiel said.

“Um, well.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was thinking, would you maybe want to hang out somewhere other than your doorway? I can show you around town.” He gestured to his car. “Take you for a spin in Baby.”

Castiel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I would love that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to ask you out, or ask for your number. I just never worked up the courage.”

Dean grinned. “Am I really that intimidating?”

Castiel laughed. “No. Not at all. You’re quite the opposite.” He gestured inside. “Would you, uh, would you like to come inside?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Castiel started to open the door wider, then paused. “I have a question. You never did need my signature, did you? For the packages?”

Dean frowned, then realization seemed to hit him and his face reddened. “Yeah, uh. No. But I figured it was a surefire way to get your name and talk to you.”

“Is that a trick you use often?”

“Nope, you were the first.” He grinned, eyes suddenly teasing. "Did you really need everything you were ordering, or were all the packages just an excuse to see me?"

Now was Castiel's time to blush. "I did need what I ordered!" he protested. "Well, some things. But mainly... I just wanted to talk to you."

“Well, it worked.”

“Yes.” He stepped back for Dean to come inside his home and smiled at him. “And I’m very glad it did."

Tag List:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @celestialcastiel @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @darksongfire @lykanyouko

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics or removed from the list :)

#dailydestieldelights #congrats sophie on 2k!#thanks for organizing this lil challenge #ive had this wip for ages now #and im happy i finally got the push to finish it #AU #cas and dean need to use their words #meet cute #fluff #cas likes to garden #gabe is an annoying brother #expectingtofly writes

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

Text

mixtape | track fourteen

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Today’s lecture is on end of life. Death. Passing. However you want to refer to it, it’s about the process of a human being who was here, not being here anymore. And it’s particularly about your role in helping them go peacefully.”

Indy swallowed hard.

The wound was still fresh. It didn’t matter that it was May. Bekah’s funeral could have been just yesterday. She could see the wood grain of the podium she’d delivered the eulogy at in front of her if she closed her eyes for a few seconds too long.

Instead, she looked forward, found her professor in the front of the lecture hall. Dr. Ginn. A quirky woman, who seemed determined to live up to Indy’s first impression as she climbed onto her desk and sat with her clicker in her hand, legs criss-cross.

“Now. Doctors and death, they don’t mix. If I had to guess, a doctor’s worst fear is death. They spend their whole lives fighting it. But nurses? We’re different.”

Indy liked the sound of we.

“For us, the priorities shift. As nurses, your job is just as much to push epi as it is to hold someone’s hand. And you are the one that makes that call. You are the last comfort that a lot of people have in their lives. You are the backbone for the family, for the friends who are there to say goodbye. And you are there to make sure your patient goes as peacefully as they can. That is the most important part of your job, hands down. And if that’s not something you can see yourself doing, then you need to rethink and probably change your career.”

The hall was silent apart from the clicking of laptop keys.

“Now. On that lovely note, let’s get started. A code blue, or as I call it, an ‘oh shit’...”

A message notification appeared on the right corner of Indy’s screen as she opened her notes.

Coffee after class?

Indy smiled, and in lieu of listening for a moment, she let her mind wander back to February...

Grayson was really trying. But it was hard to break habits that he’d been so comfortable with since the first day that he met Indiana. It took so much mental effort to not hold her hand, to not brush her hair behind her ear - so much that Indy nudged him in the side as they walked.

“Where’d you go?”

“Sorry, just thinking.”

She had a good guess of what he was thinking about, or more specifically what he was waiting for.

An answer.

Indy could hear Nicole in her mind, telling her to be careful, to be careful with her heart. She thought of what her mother would say if she met Grayson as she walked beside him on the sidewalk. It kept her mind busy until they got to the familiar door that Grayson pulled open for her. If nothing else made sense, at least there was always Jet’s, with it’s comforting constant vanilla smell and that favorite blue chair that Indy beelined for while Gray went to the counter.

Patrick looked ready to commit murder when he realized who was ordering, but Indy shot him a smile from across the store that softened him up just enough for Grayson to make it out with their coffees unscathed.

“So he definitely hates my guts,” Gray mumbled as he sat down, making sure his back was to the bar.

“He’s a protective one, you know this,” Indy teased as she sipped her coffee.

“How soon did you start working here again after… after I left.”

“I gave myself a couple days. I definitely wasn’t at my peak on my first day if that’s what you’re asking.” She let out a dry chuckle.

“Did you start here or the hospital first?”

“Same time. The tech job kinda fell in my lap, and I needed the money for rent. I only really came back here so I could afford therapy. They have a benefits package for all their employees.”

Grayson froze, but his cup quivered in his hand as he shook.

“I… because of…”

“No, no no, not because of you. I mean, I did talk about the stuff going on with her cause we’ve been having sessions but I was planning on going since graduation. I wanted to get a handle on the whole flying thing.”

The reason went unspoken, and Grayson’s hands didn’t stop shaking, though his breathing came a bit easier.

“Is it going okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, haven’t really been on a plane to test anything out. But I did better than I thought I would when you were flying out, considering. So that’s a good sign. And my therapist is really nice, we’re a pretty good match.”

“Good. That’s good.” It wasn’t lost on him what it meant that she still cared that he was on a plane. Hope riled in his belly and he beat it back down as best he could.

There was a lull that was filled with the sounds of coffee beans grinding until Indy spoke up again.

“What have you been up to out in LA?”

Grayson swallowed. He looked at her quickly, her soft smile that made him feel like he could tell her anything, no matter how embarrassing it was.

“Honestly? I did fuck all. I mean, I did the basics I guess, with the companies and stuff. But I kinda let the misery have me. You did a hell of a lot better than me, that’s for damn sure.”

“I wasn’t doing great, believe me.”

“But at least you were trying,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “And I caused all this, I didn’t really have an excuse.”

“It’s in the past now. Nothing we can do to change it.”

“For the record, I wish I could. More than anything.”

“I know.”

“I really am sorry Dee. I know it’s not enough, but I am.”

“I know that too.”

The next beat of silence was painful, and it took a moment for Grayson to realize that it was now or never.

“Remember how bad our first date went? How I had that whole plan that just totally didn’t work?”

“The thunderstorm. I remember.” It made her smile, and she could picture every frame of it, from the ocean hallway to the remnants of apple juice on his lips.

“And I told you I was gonna save the real date for later.”

Indy nodded.

“Could we… can I do it now? Can I take you on a date?”

The thought brought butterflies to Indy’s stomach, but she blamed it on the coffee.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice. What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll show you. Technically Jet’s was first on the list anyways, but the next part is a surprise.”

With that, she stood up and followed him out into the street.

They started their walk separate, but it only took a moment for Indy to grab onto Grayson’s hand. He told himself it was out of necessity so they didn’t get split up in a feeble attempt to keep his hopes from getting away from him. Still, his stomach fluttered high above the pavement as they enjoyed the setting sun and willfully ignored the chill of the wind whipping around the buildings of the city. Eventually, his plan unfolded when they reached the entrance of the Highline. It was one of Indy’s favorite places in the city, but she knew she’d never told Grayson that. He just knew her well enough it seemed.

They walked in peaceful silence for a while, hands squeezed tight against one another’s despite the lull in the foot traffic.

Indy smiled at their luck when they finally found an empty bench with a nice view of the skyline. She tugged Grayson over to it and kept her eyes forward for a moment before she looked over at him. His eyes were on the sky, skin flushed pink from the pigment on the clouds or the chill of the wind, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. He was beautiful, and he was hers if she wanted him.

Across the walkway, a young girl walked with her mom, who had a baby carrier strapped to her chest with a head of fuzzy hair just visible within it. The mom was rushing it seemed, and Indy realized the baby was crying loudly, sharp wails that became more audible as they passed by. The girl was dragging a small lion stuffed animal behind her, and Grayson watched as it slipped out of her hands and onto the concrete.

“Joey! Momma, momma I dropped Joey! Joey!” The girl cried out, but her mom continued to tug her along as she reached back for her lion.

Grayson was on his feet before Indy could say a word, jogging by and scooping up the small stuffed animal. He politely tapped the mother on the shoulder to get her to stop, then squatted down to the girl.

“Is this Joey?”

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears as she held her hand out for her toy. He passed it over slowly with a smile.

“Hold on tight to him okay?”

“Okay mister,” she said, voice high and quiet.

And right then, Indy saw everything she ever wanted. She saw her kids, with Grayson’s hair and Grayson’s eyes and Grayson’s laugh, she could see him carrying them up to bed, see him dancing with a little girl standing on his toes in their kitchen somewhere, see him passing her a little stuffed animal. She could see him in every facet of the future she hadn’t let herself imagine since he’d left, but her fantasies came rushing back so fast it felt like she was floating.

As if she could ever want anyone else.

She reached over for his hand as he walked back over, intertwining their fingers and letting him sit down before she finally spoke.

“I love this city. I love this city so much. It’s always been all I really needed.”

Grayson felt lightheaded as he prepared himself for what she was going to say.

“I know,” was all he could say.

Indy took a deep breath and turned towards Grayson with a soft smile. She could see the apprehension in his eyes as he waited for her to say something else.

“Did I tell you that Devin came to see me while you were gone?”

He shook his head.

“He came to check on me, since I wasn’t answering anyone.”

Grayson’s throat was tight as he pictured it in his head, the guilt overwhelming him. He reached over and squeezed her knee - a silent apology.

“He helped me figure out that I want to go into nursing, helped me get my head on straight.”

“He’s a smart guy,” Grayson said quietly.

“He told me I need to go for what I want. ‘Ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there’. That’s what he said. And I thought that’s what I was doing. I was going after a PhD, and my life in New York, and all these things I always wanted. Things I thought were really important. But they aren’t.”

He frowned. “Dee, your dreams are important.”

“I know, I know, and I’m not saying I’m giving up on that. I just mean my priorities I guess. I had them twisted, and I was missing the most important thing.”

She smiled his favorite smile as he tried to swallow.

He couldn’t make himself ask, just in case he was wrong, but she put him out of his misery after a moment.

“You. You’re the most important thing.”

She was suddenly blurry as his eyes filled with tears.

“I’ve never been good at change, but you’re worth it to me. If being with you means spending less time in New York, then it’s worth it. And I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like you weren’t.” She was crying too, and Grayson lifted his free hand to her cheek, wiping each tear with his thumb.

“Never. You never made me feel like that. I was the one that ran, because I never wanted you to feel like you ever had to give up anything for me.”

“Because you don’t realize that you’re worth giving things up for. You don’t realize how worth loving you are.”

He was fully crying now, a broken laugh making it’s way past his lips.

“Does that mean you still love me?”

She smiled.

“Never stopped.”

And she kissed him, and all was right in the world again for a moment. It didn’t matter that there were people walking by, and that their cheeks were wet from their tears. They were kissing and that meant that everything would be okay.

Any stranger that walked by surely had to feel the relief in the air when they pulled back and realized they could lean right back in without a single care in the world. He let go of her hand only to move it to her other cheek, to hold her steady there cradled in his palms as she kissed him between smiles - his whole world in his hands.

In that moment, he wanted more than anything to love her loud.

He pulled back just enough to bring her up to her feet and then his arms were wrapped around her waist, spinning her around until she was breathless and the city was a blur behind both their eyes. And for the first time that he could remember in too many years to count, he didn’t care who could hear him, and he didn’t care who was watching.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I missed you.”

Being back in each other’s arms was as easy as breathing. She didn’t stray an inch from his side, soaking in the warmth of his body next to hers as they made their way down from the highline as the city started to light up. By the time they made it home her toes were numb from the cold but her cheeks were still warm, seeing that every time they had to wait for a crosswalk Grayson ducked down to kiss her again.

When they got to the lobby, Grayson squeezed her hand.

“I gotta get something out of the truck, I’ll be right back.”

“You want me to wait here or head on up?”

He pondered it for a minute.

“Wait for me.”

She nodded. She always waited for him, after all.

He disappeared out of the glass doors at a jog and Indy heard a chuckle from the side of the lobby. She looked over to see the receptionist smiling down at her computer. Indy prided herself on being a very low maintenance tenant, but she still smiled and waved to the woman behind the counter whenever she passed by. Her name tag read Cara in neat white letters.

“Sorry if we were loud,” Indy said sheepishly. Cara laughed.

“Just happy to see you smiling that’s all. I’m glad he’s back.”

Indy blushed bright red before she answered. “Yeah. Me too.”

Grayson was slightly winded when he came back, and he was grateful for the long elevator ride as he held the small gift bag in his hand. Indy pretended she didn’t see it like her mom had always taught her to when she received a gift. Still, her eyes flickered to it each time she knew she could get away with it, her curiosity getting the better of her.

When they finally got inside the apartment he led her over to the living room by the hand and passed her the bag.

“I didn’t know how today was going to go, but I wanted you to have this either way. Figured you could put it on your shelf. When you’re ready.”

Indy pulled the tissue paper out and saw the rose gold edge of a picture frame. She pulled it out and her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh.”

Bekah was smiling.

It warmed the whole image in a way that had Indy’s eyes burning as she tried to place the day. She was curled up on the bed next to Beks, but she wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, she was looking at the girl beside her. Her little sister in a way, who was tucked away under her halloween blanket.

“That’s the night we had the word search tournament, and you both schooled me,” Grayson explained quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing at her hip under her sweatshirt. She remembered then, noticed the activity book in the corner of the picture.

“I didn’t even know you took this.”

“I know you like pictures, I meant to take more of you guys. But I like her smile in this one. Yours too.”

Indy sniffled and leaned her head back onto Grayson’s shoulder. “You’ve made me cry twice now you know.”

He kissed her temple and moved a hand to her forearm.

S-O-R-R-Y

He drew a heart afterwards, and even invisible on her skin she could tell it was lopsided. It made her smile, and she soaked in the feeling of him next to her for a moment before she spun around to kiss him.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips before pulling him in for a tight hug that had her up on her tiptoes when he wrapped her up. They held each other for a moment before Indy got an idea.

“I have something for you too. Wait here.”

Grayson kept his hands on her waist, thumbs rubbing over her skin underneath her sweatshirt.

“Stay,” he pouted.

“It’ll just take a second, I promise. Just wait here.”

She kissed him quickly just because she could and disappeared into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

He lasted about 45 seconds before he was picking at his fingernails. Then he was taking a few steps towards the door, fighting the urge to stick his ear up to it to see if he could get a hint at what she was doing.

Another minute passed, and he felt like he was going to lose it.

“Indyyyy,” he whined. “You’re killin’ me babe.”

“You’re so dramatic oh my god it’s been like a minute tops.”

“One minute too long,” he teased just in hopes of making her laugh. It warmed his heart to hear it, even muffled through the door. It still felt like an eternity before she finally reappeared with her hands behind her back.

“You know, you didn’t need to get me anything. Having you back is more than I deserve already.”

Indy’s laugh was louder this time since she was right in front of him.

“Who knew a Jersey boy could be so damn sappy,” she teased. “I don’t have a frame or anything, but here.”

She pulled out a piece of paper and passed it to him quickly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet while she waited for him to read it. It felt like an eternity while she watched his eyes scan over the letters, seemingly missing the UCLA logo in the top corner.

“Did you… are you reading? Did you see it?”

Grayson looked up with a smile and drew a circle in the air around his face.

“Dyslexic,” he reminded her gently.

She bit her lip and tried her hardest to be patient, waiting until his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Wait… wait. What is this? UCLA? Nursing?” He looked up at her cautiously, trying to keep his excitement in check in case he’d misread. “What is this?”

“Well. There’s a lot of good nursing programs out there. And LA has some top notch hospitals too. Especially pediatric ones. Figured it couldn’t hurt to apply, and they’ve got a pretty good tuition coverage package, it’s close to your house, and-”

Grayson’s lips were on hers, his excitement palpable.

She kissed him back with a smile, relieved to finally tell someone about the grand plan she’d made in her head now that all the pieces had come together.

“You’re sure?”

Indiana smiled. “You’re worth it. You’re what I want, forever.”

He kissed her again, making up for lost time and telling her everything he couldn’t find the words for. They walked backwards until the back of his legs hit the couch and she ended up crawling onto his lap, beaming down at him when they finally broke apart.

“You’re actually coming to LA. We’re gonna live there.”

“Guess I gotta start apartment shopping,” she mused.

Grayson rolled his eyes. “Shut up and c’mere.”

He bailed them to the side until Indy was fully on top of him.

“I’ll build you a shelf for our bedroom. Fuck, I’ll build you 50 shelves as soon as we get there. Wait when do classes start, when do you have to move?”

“You’re cute when you’re excited,” she hummed, leaning down to kiss him again. It was slow and purposeful, warm in that familiar way as they remembered each other fully. “We’ll figure it all out,” Indy said eventually, scooting down his torso until her head could rest comfortably on his chest. She listened to his heart beat, a bit fast from either her presence or the coffee, she couldn’t tell. Either way, it was still her favorite sound, and as his hand moved through her hair gently, she knew she’d made the right choice, no matter where it took her.

3 months later, the place it took her was the passenger seat of Grayson’s brand new tesla, which was delightfully cool despite the warmth of the incoming summer making the LA air dry and warm. Grayson held out a hand for her to pass her backpack, tossing it into the backseat as if it wasn’t weighed down with three textbooks. She pulled the door closed behind her and let her head rest back against the seat for a moment before she turned to him.

“Hi.”

He beamed, leaning over the console to give her a quick kiss. “Hey. Good day?”

“Long day, but yeah, it was fine. Got a shit ton of assignments per usual.”

“Hey, three day weekend next week though, and we’re going to New York. What’d you learn?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Meds, codes, diseases, death. Truly uplifting stuff.”

He reached his hand over to her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb as his other hand moved the wheel effortlessly, pulling back out onto the road.

“Still want coffee? You didn’t answer.”

“Do I ever say no to coffee?”

“Fair points. Text E squared and see if they want anything.”

“They weren’t home?”

“No, they ran to the store, but they should be back by the time we get there.”

“If Eden went to Target without me I’m gonna be pissed,” Indy mumbled halfheartedly, typing out the text in their group chat quickly. “You know she’s gonna say she wants Jet’s.”

“Believe me I know, just ask Ethan. You’ve created a monster. We’ve gotta start asking Patrick to send beans in bulk or something, we go through them so fast now that she drinks it too.”

Indy just laughed and turned up the radio, unsurprised to hear Cudi from Grayson’s playlist he’d made for their car rides. It was routine now for him to pick her up from class, save her from the hassle of trying to find parking on campus. And it gave them some more alone time considering they lived with Ethan and Eden at the house. So, it wasn’t abnormal for Grayson to happily add 20 minutes to the drive to pick up coffee on the way home. Purdy’s was right down the street after all, and though their lattes weren’t quite as perfect as Jet’s, they held their own.

“We should buy Patrick some fancy beans somewhere and take them with us next weekend,” Grayson mused.

“You’re such a suck up, it’s not like he’s giving us free coffee,” Indy laughed. “You’re just still scared of him.”

“Fuck yeah I am! Every time we’ve gone home he looks like he wants to straight up murder me.”

She reached over to hold his cheek for a moment as she bit back her laugh.

“Baby. Patrick can barely lift a 50 pound box of syrup. Believe it or not, I think you could take him.”

He rolled his eyes but the comment wasn’t lost on his ego, especially when his girl leaned over to wrap her arm around his bicep and rest her cheek on it, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin left behind by his tank top. They ordered through the drive thru, surprised when neither Eden or Ethan responded to them. The car was peaceful, even more so when Grayson put it on autopilot and gave Indy more of his attention, trying to ease the stress he could feel coming off of her like it always did when she got out of class.

“Tell me about your lecture,” he said, hoping talking it through would help her.

She sipped on her coffee as she spoke, starting without many details but eventually going more in depth as she got more excited. It was one of Grayson’s favorite parts of listening to her talk about the things she cared about, and even though half of the information went right over his head he listened intently anyways, tried to take it all in as the car drove them home.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Indy’s coffee was gone along with her stress, and Grayson knew all the steps to running a code blue. He hopped out first, grabbing her bag from the backseat and slinging it over his shoulder as they headed to the front door.

The first sign that something was different was the quiet of the house. Any other time that E squared was left alone, Grayson and Indy would come back to the speakers blaring, a scary movie on the living room TV, or the distant sound of a headboard knocking against the wall.

But it was dead silent, and the pair looked at each other before they scanned the room.

“They’re up to something,” Indy muttered, peaking around the wall to make sure Ethan wasn’t going to scare them.

“For sure. Something is off with Ethan, just don’t know what it is.”

“Oh, you got a feeling huh?” Indy teased, bumping him with her elbow. He took her waist in his hands and pulled her back against him, making her laugh as he tickled her and buried his face in her neck. He never got tired of having her so close - it was just as intoxicating as the first time.

“Sorry you don’t understand the twin connection.”

“Well, use your psychic powers to figure out where the fuck they are then.”

He closed his eyes for dramatic effect, smiling when it got the laugh he wanted out of her. Just as he lifted his fingers to his temple, a bang sounded from the backdoor, making Indy squeal and cling onto Grayson. He went to move her behind him until he saw the culprit - a tennis ball bouncing away across the yard.

“You’re okay, it’s just E,” Grayson breathed, relaxing and moving towards the door to find where his brother was hiding. They walked into the backyard hand in hand, following the sound of music coming from the pool, which was finally finished in the back corner of the property.

Ethan was at the entrance, his biggest smile on his face as he waited for them to get closer. Impatient as ever, he started walking towards them, meeting them halfway across the grass.

“Took you guys long enough to get home. We bought new stuff for the pool, come look at it.”

“E, bro, I told you not to buy random shit on your own,” Grayson grumbled, obviously weary of his brother’s interior design skills.

“Eden was with him,” Indy reminded him at a whisper.

“Just come on,” Ethan said, grabbing onto his brother’s hand and starting to drag him towards the pool.

“Jesus bro, calm down.”

Ethan ignored him, looking to make sure Grayson was bringing Indy along too until they made it around the corner where the small pool was in view.

“Surprise!” Ethan beamed, holding his hand out towards the water. Beside it on the concrete were some new additions.

Four loungers, a beautiful teal color with rounded contour that looked perfect for tanning. In fact, Eden was on one of them sprawled out in her bathing suit, and she looked so comfortable that Indy barely noticed the miniature fifth chair next to her at the end of the line up.

Brain fried from class, it took Indy a moment to piece it together.

5 chairs. 4 people. One smaller than the rest.

“No way,” she gasped, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Eden no way!”

Indy was already moving towards her best friend before she could get to her feet, ignoring Grayson’s confused calls of “what? huh?” from behind her.

“Yes way,” Eden sniffled, a nervous laugh coming through as she put a hand over her stomach.

“How far along? When did you find out?”

“A couple days ago, we went to the doctor to find out for sure this morning. She said we’re about 7 weeks.”

Indy pulled her in for a hug.

“Wait. Wait.” Grayson was yelling now, catching on with no doubt a few hints from Ethan. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck, you’re pregnant?! She’s PREGNANT?!” He grabbed his brother’s face with both hands and shook him just barely.

“I’m gonna be a fucking dad,” Ethan said, and Indy melted when she realized he was about to cry.

“You’re gonna be a fucking dad,” Grayson repeated, shaking him twice more before he pulled him in for the tightest hug Indy had ever seen them share. The girls watched them for a moment before Indy turned her attention back to Eden.

“How are you feeling with all this?”

“Well I’ve just started having morning sickness, my appetite has been super weird, vegan cheese makes me want to straight up die…”

“Right right, but I mean like… mentally. You okay? This is a big change.”

Even just standing there, the boy's excitement was slightly overwhelming, especially with Grayson literally running around yelling about being an uncle. She was sure that Ethan had been excited from the moment of a positive test.

“A very big change that we weren’t really expecting,” Eden said quietly, looking down at her manicured toes.

“How are you feeling about it?” Indy asked again, reaching out to hold her hand. Eden squeezed tightly.

“Honestly? I’m fucking terrified,” she admitted. “And Ethan’s been great, it’s not that, it’s just… there’s a human in me. Right now. Just chillin’ in there.”

“Yep, there do be a human in there,” Indy laughed at her bluntness. “What are you scared about?”

“Everything. I’m afraid I’m gonna do something that’s gonna hurt them. I don’t know shit about pregnancy, like real pregnancy, and don’t even get me started on trying to push this thing out of me.”

“We’ve got a while to figure all that out. And you aren’t going to do anything that’s going to hurt them. You’re a good mom.”

“Jesus, a mom. Ethan keeps saying that but it sounds different coming from a woman. A fucking mom. You’re gonna have to teach me all the medical stuff… wait actually no I don’t think I even want to know what’s going on in there. I’ll just focus on figuring out how the fuck I’m gonna be a mom.”

“You’ll be great. And you’ll have Ethan too. Those two were pretty much born to be dads,” Indy said. They turned and looked to see Grayson hauling Ethan up to sit on his shoulders before running what she assumed was a victory lap around the backyard.

“Yeah… remind me of that for the next nine months. Regularly.”

They both started laughing and pulled in for another hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” Indy sighed with the warmest smile, images of baby showers and Eden’s bump and the office as a nursery already spinning through her mind.

“Love you aunt… Indiana? Indy?”

Indy scrunched her nose. “We’ll have to work on that one,” she teased, taking her hand and leading her over to their boys, who were still somehow yelling.

They both came running, but Grayson was faster, scooping Eden up and spinning her around so fast that Ethan was immediately scolding him, urging him to be careful.

“She’s not that delicate bub, it’s okay,” Indy reassured him, getting up on her tiptoes to give Ethan a hug. He squeezed her tight and whispered in her ear.

“She okay? You guys are the first ones we’ve told.”

“Just a little scared, like all pregnant people are. Totally normal.”

“Good. I’m glad you know, she’s been dying to tell a girl. Only so much I can do.”

She leaned back with a smile. “You’re doing great already.”

Those words meant more to Ethan than she would ever know, but all he could do was smile and head back over to Eden, a hand across her tummy when she leaned up against his side.

“We’re gonna tell Li when we’re all home next weekend, but Eden’s parents are coming over for dinner in a little while and we’re gonna tell them now so we can do it in person,” Ethan explained, pressing a kiss to Eden’s hair.

“We’ll make ourselves scarce for the evening,” Indy offered, sensing the nerves already rising for Eden. She’d have enough of an audience.

“Okay but first we gotta get a picture of everybody, we’re gonna make an album of telling everybody.” Ethan was already moving as he spoke, setting his phone up on the patio table with the timer on. They all posed with Ethan pointing excitedly to Eden’s non-existent bump before they all headed back inside, still buzzing with excitement.

Grayson stayed particularly close as they gathered around the island, his hand resting on Indy’s hip as they all settled after a few moments. They all helped to straighten up the house in preparation for Eden’s family’s arrival, and Grayson appeared behind Indiana with a smile as she placed a blanket over the back of the couch.

“Date night?”

Indy had lost count of how many dates they’d been on, but those words never failed to make her stomach swirl.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I know you said you have homework so… Monty’s, secret beach… with flashcards?”

“You truly know the way to my heart.” She kissed him softly and followed him to their room to change into beach clothes. As she sifted through the drawers, she couldn’t help but look at the shelf. It was bigger than the one she’d had in New York, more sturdy with thicker wood and longer, able to hold more frames.

That was a good thing, because there had been some new additions. The picture of Nicole, the baby picture of her and Charlie, and the engagement picture with them and Devin all stood tall beside each other. Down the line came the picture of Indy and Grayson at her graduation, the one where he was dipping her back slightly and wearing her cap. Then was Bekah in her hospital bed - it still made Indy’s chest tight when she looked at it. There were two new ones since then - one of the four of them taken by Lisa in front of their tiny homes, and another of all of them at thanksgiving that they’d finally gotten printed.

“We need to get that picture we just took from Ethan, I wanna put it on the shelf.”

“I’m gonna have to build you another shelf,” he teased as he pulled his swim trunks up.

“Think you’ll probably be building stuff for the nursery first.”

“Shut up, do you really think they’ll let me?” His eyes lit up and Indy laughed as she pulled her New York sweatshirt down over her bikini top.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s gonna be so much fun! What all do you need in a nursery though? I mean a crib, obviously. A dresser? Do you need a dresser for baby clothes or can you just stack them up cause they’re so tiny?”

“We can talk about it while we drive,” Indy redirected him, taking his hand and leading him out of their room, down the hall and out to the car before he could bombard the other couple of the house with questions.

The excitement was palpable for the whole drive, buzzing within the cab as they made their way to Monty’s, ordered their vegan burgers and raspberry lemonades and snuck away to their secret place on the beach.

Considering it was a Wednesday evening, they didn’t expect it to be busy, but they were particularly excited to see that it was completely empty apart from a few stray crabs that went scurrying away at the sound of their footsteps.

Grayson set out the blanket that was always in the back of the tesla for trips like this and Indy set down their bags and drinks, getting everything settled so they could simply sit down and enjoy their meal.

It was peaceful, calm as the ocean lapped up against the sand gently and they filled their tummies. Grayson was done before Indy, per usual, and he basked in the last remnants of the sun while she finished her fries.

“Wanna swim?” Indy asked.

“Thought we were supposed to wait 30 minutes.”

“That’s a myth,” she teased, standing up to her feet and helping him to his. They walked down to the water quickly, gasping a bit at the cold of the water. Still, there was nothing that compared to the feeling of being in the waves, and Indy braved it. Grayson had every muscle tensed against the cold, but he’d follow her anywhere. Soon enough they were up to shoulder height water, kicking gently to get over the waves when they needed to, arms wrapped around each other to keep warm.

“I can’t believe they’re gonna have a kid. Were gonna be Aunt Dee and Uncle Grayson. What the fuck,” Grayson murmured, half distracted by the way the orange of the sky was starting to reflect off of Indy’s eyes.

“It’s gonna be so much fun to have a little one around. They’re gonna be such good parents.”

“You know who would be even better parents? Us,” he beamed. He looked so beautiful when he smiled, and Indy ran her thumb along his jaw.

“Let me finish school and find a job before you go putting a baby in me,” Indy laughed, but her heart warmed at the thought. She remembered the little girl on the highline, and she wanted it for the two of them.

“You’re done in like a year and a half.”

“Correct,” Indy confirmed it.

“I always thought I’d be married before I had a kid,” Grayson said, trying to bite back his excitement.

She wasn’t sure if it was the bliss of the water around them, or the steadiness of his arms, or the fact that she always felt like she was home when she was with him, but in that moment, she knew.

“Okay. Then let’s get married.”

“Are you serious? You aren’t fucking with me? You really wanna get married?”

“Did I ever give you the impression that I didn’t want to marry you someday?” She teased.

Grayson could only laugh, and look up towards the skies and thank whatever angels were listening and watching for all that he’d been given.

He was pretty sure he knew at least three that were there with him.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much. Don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Indy kissed him. The feeling was mutual in the most effortless way, and there was a sense of peace that she wasn’t used to in that moment, knowing that everything would somehow work itself out and she would have him with her for the rest of her life.

And for once, the timeline of her life wasn’t her priority anymore. She didn’t care what date she’d finish school, or when she’d get her job. And she didn’t care when he would propose, or when they’d find out they were having a child of their own. Because in all those moments, whenever they happened, he would be there, and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.

They kissed slow, quiet for a while, and as the sun dipped below the horizon Grayson carried her back out onto the sand. They wrapped themselves up in the same towel and found each other’s lips again, warm and familiar and safe as they lost themselves within one another over and over again.

Her lips were chapped by the time they pulled away, both giddy at the realizations that they’d always know finally being said out loud.

“How much homework do you have?”

“Just studying, I can do it in the morning. What’s the plan?” She knew he wouldn’t have asked if there wasn’t something he wanted to do.

“I’ll show you. Just trust me.”

“Okay,” she answered without a second thought.

Twenty minutes later, with salty hair and big smiles, they pulled up to a tattoo parlor.

“I thought you got all yours from Alexis now?”

“Gotta get this one tonight. Special day.”

Indy looked at the neon signs, and the artwork on the walls through the window. She pondered it for a minute, and something in her told her to go for it.

“I think I’m gonna get one too.”

Grayson perked up at that. “Really?” He knew every inch of her body, knew it would be her first one.

“Something small. Something for Beks.”

He smiled and kissed her temple before he got out to open her door.

Indy went first. A small lightning bolt, like the one on Bekah’s headscarf. And, the thunderstorm of their first date in the city. She got it tucked away behind her ear, in the same place of Grayson’s triple threes. His angel number, and her reminder of both of hers. It didn’t hurt as badly as she thought it would, but Grayson sat beside her anyways, rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand while he held it.

D-O-I-N-G G-O-O-D he wrote.

“Thanks,” she smiled softly. “Bet you won’t even flinch during yours.”

“That's the idea. You can study while I get mine, I want it to be a surprise.”

Hers only took a few minutes, and her lecture material was at the back of her mind once the artist cleaned her up and moved over the Grayson. He grabbed his wallet from her backpack where he’d stowed it and Indy took a seat in one of the chairs in the lobby, occasionally turning her head towards the mirror so she could see her new ink.

Across the shop, Grayson took his shirt off.

“You can pull the letters from these, and I want it right here.” He passed over the stack of flashcards he’d snagged, sure that they’d be able to find what they needed.

“Bitch of a spot,” the artist said quietly as he prepped over his ribs, but he just laughed. From the view of Grayson’s covered legs, he wasn’t sure there was any spot too painful for him.

“She’s worth it,” Grayson said, closing his eyes and waiting. The sting of the needle was familiar, and it did hurt as he moved over each bone. But when he looked in the mirror, it was all worth it. He didn’t even bother putting his shirt on as he paid the artist in cash, including a big tip, and headed out to the lobby.

Indy was sifting through her bag.

“Looking for these?” Grayson held up a small stack of flashcards with a devious grin. “Sorry, had to borrow them for my tat.”

Indy’s brows furrowed, and she stood up, moving closer as he lifted his arm and showed her his ribcage.

In small handwriting, her handwriting, was the word ‘forever’.

“Right where you always trace it.”

To her surprise, her eyes started to burn.

“Gray…” She knew how important his tattoos were to him, what each and every one of them meant.

“Consider it a promise. I’m with you. Forever.”

He ducked down to kiss her, and she smiled against him, hand resting on his torso right below his promise.

She liked the sound of forever.

#SHES DONE #SHES FINISHED HOLY FUCK #mixtape #IM GONNA CRY FR IM TEARING UP OVER HERE

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fandomdaydreamer · 3 years ago

Text

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 8

You Love Me

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: mature content

Summary: Just two friends battling a hangover and trying to make sense of their last encounter. Their very unsubtle feelings for each other will make it impossibly harder for them to try and make their sex scene less weird.

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist -here-

Hiii, I know this chapter is late af, forgive me. The four main reasons are my finals, my job, plotholes and.. a fucking flood?? I also feel guilty about the tease (again) but when I said slow burn... I meant slow burn, ehehehe!

Length: 9.2k

You Love Me

Two painkillers hit the bottom of my glass and fizzled up into the water. The birds outside were chirping a beautiful melody I couldn't even appreciate. I was disorientated and an utter mess, dropping back on top of the sheets in nothing but my underwear.

The first signs of an upcoming heatwave made me anticipate that everything would soon become twice as uncomfortable. I groaned and folded my pillow over my ears and eyes. It was too loud... everything was too loud, too bright, too unreal.

My phone's alarm went off and I scrambled up to look at the clock. "Kut!" I cursed and almost fell off my bed to find my laptop. I knocked over my guitar and the noise almost burst my head. Focus, I told myself. I would miss my skype call with Tom in the next two minutes if I wouldn't get online right fucking now.

I turned on my old, noisy laptop, threw on a t-shirt and combed my hair with my free hand to make myself the least bit presentable. My quick movements made me dizzy and sick.

The skype chime rang and I hit the receive button to see a sweet baby faced and friend shaped man appear on the screen. His smile and waving hand dropped instantly when he took one good look at me. "Hey happy late birthday, Nin- Oh dear, you look like absolute shit." he laughed at my crappy appearance.

I whined with my hand clutched onto that abominable headache behind my eye, he leaned in closer to the camera. "Are you alright?"

I couldn't really smile at my best friend, even though I was happy to see him. "Agony." I dramatized.

"Well, sounds like a perfect birthday hangover."

I was horrified about what I saw in my own window on the screen and I wiped my thumb under my eyes to get rid of the remaining mascara. "I suppose it is."

I changed into a delighted singsong, sounding like an overexcited child. "You wouldn't believe it, Tom. I thought I was about to have the most miserable, sad one-woman birthday party far away from home but then Pedro and the others threw a surprise party for me!"

He beamed. "No way!"

"We danced and talked until early in the morning and we got so pissed. Booze. 'Massive' amounts of booze." I accentuated my words by exaggerating the amount of alcohol we had consumed by spreading my arms wide apart. After Tom's laugh ebbed away, I dropped my hands back into my lap. I felt like my thoughts only caught up with me a second later and I felt like I had forgotten something important. "Actually, I think I might still be drunk."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there." "Yeah, you could experience this hangover with me. Thank you for the new laptop by the way. You're amazing." I grabbed the package that had been delivered to me yesterday morning and held it in front of the webcam. It contained a brand-new laptop from Tom. How considerate of him.

"You're welcome, remember not to download anything before you haven't installed an antivirus first." He joked, recalling our last movie night.

"I know." I leaned over to grab the glass of water on my nightstand and slowly drank the remedy, ignoring the bitter taste of painkillers, which was still a million times better than whatever other taste I had left in my mouth. I wanted to return the glass but the cute photograph of Pedro and me on my nightstand stopped me in my motion. Why did it startle me so much?

"Are you sure you can work today after that legendary night?" Tom asked, connection slightly lagging.

I slowly turned back to my laptop. "I don't know, love. I used to handle the mornings after better. I guess I'm getting older." I managed to both frown and smile. Why did I have this lingering feeling of uneasiness? It was like I was missing a part of my memory but I couldn't put my finger on it.

My gaze drifted over to the vase with the beautiful pink rose Pedro had given me yesterday morning along with my present. A nagging feeling of dread began to slowly catch up with me like my brain was slowly trying to put two and two together.

I mentally counted yesterday's events. There had been this wonderful morning when Pedro had gifted me this rose and the most adorable picture frame ever... my anxiety during the day, thinking it all went to shit and then the lovely birthday party, eating, dancing, drinking, playing the guitar... absurd chatter concerning a deal with Third Man Records... something else had happened. I didn't even remember how I got into bed. I remembered laughing with Pedro but it was all a hazy dream.

"Nin?" "Huh, what?" I snapped back into reality.

Tom was eying me in suspicion. "Are you even listening?" he asked. "Yeah, totally." I lied.

"No, you were miles away. What did I just say?" He quizzed me, leaning closer to the webcam.

"Something about work?" I guessed wrongly.

"What happened?"

I was trying to figure that out myself. A fleeting image of Pedro’s face up close to mine crossed my mind and I recalled his hands exploring my skin, the heat between our bodies and tangled limbs... WAIT, WHAT? My head snapped back towards my door and a hand flew up to my mouth. "Oh, no!" I squeaked as it violently came rushing back to me.

"What? What is it?" Tom yelled.

I could only repeat my previous exclamation, over and over. Embarrassment about what happened last night seeped into the deepest pit of my soul. I couldn't believe my dazed memories but they were most definitely not lying. I folded my body and crumbled under the realisation of what had occurred between the hallway and my bed.

Tom urged me to say something. "Nin? You're scaring me."

I dry heaved and forced myself to calm down. "I'm sorry!" I tried to excuse my actions without giving Tom any context yet. "Oh, I... I was really drunk."

"Yes, yes, I know that." "I wish I had either drunken less or significantly more because my current situation is not ideal." "Why, what did you do?"

"You whAT?" Tom yelled, flabbergasted. There was a rumble and something tipped over on his desk. It was like he tried to stabilise his body by gripping the edges.

Memories of heated kisses invaded my mind. I sought out the feeling of his lips tracing my neck. His hips had thrust into mine when I dug my fingers into his hair. I had been dying to meet the bulge underneath his denim jeans. I let out a high-pitched sound.

"I just- we uhm..." I stuttered and gestured towards the door. "Pedro and I- we... we were making out. My memory is a bit wonky but I think we almost hooked up, I-"

I would have laughed at his comedic reaction if I hadn't been so mortified. I remained silent until I heard Tom calling out my full name.

"We didn't go any further but- oh my goodness, he has officially ruined every other man for me. Just kissing him was the best feeling in the world." I tipped my head back and let out a sound of frustration.

"Wait, he kissed you back? Nin?"

My eyes remained closed as I lolled my head down again. "He's such a good kisser. I can't stop thinking about his-" I wet my lips, not giving a damn about how I kept dumping unwanted intimate details on Tom. "Strong grip and dominance. I fucking knew he had this in him! Did I beg at one point? I-"

Tom interrupted me with a sour expression on his face. "That's it, you belong in horny-jail."

"And I should get a life sentence too because the way I threw myself at him was embarrassing. He was so sweet yesterday, making me feel so special and we've been such good friends and what if I have ruined that now? I have to go down for breakfast in a minute and I think I'd rather let someone take me out, right now. Just-" I mimed blowing my brains out.

Tom sighed deeply. "Darling, it sounds like you're falling in-"

"Don't say it."

"I'm gonna say it." I hid behind my hands and peeked at him like he was about to rip off a band-aid. "-falling in love. Accept it. Frankly, I saw it coming."

His words struck a chord in me. It was true. "I am. I am utterly and completely in love with him. Oh, Tom, what am I gonna do?" I sobbed, really not knowing what to do with myself.

"Well, don't look at me like I got answers. I'm sure you'll figure something out. Sounds like you got to take care of-" he pointed his finger up and down at me through the screen and cackled. "that... first."

I glared at him. "Rotjoch."

"Gesundheit." There was a sudden racket on Tom's end and he got distracted by a noise in his room. He stood up from his chair and revealed that he was not wearing any trousers. "Hey, sod off, I'm on a bloody skype call!" Somebody was yelling out a rude reply.

I leaned over like I could spot the person who had entered Tom's room, probably his little brother. "Was that Henry?" I inquired.

He leaned back over the webcam. "Yeah, I think he needs help or something. Call you next week?"

"Yea, I think I'll-" the connection broke and I was left with a blue screen. I dropped my shoulders, posture deflating. "-need it."

"Say hi to your family for me." "I will."

"See you, Tom!" "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Good luck."

One step at a time. First, I really needed to pee, take a shower and put on some clean clothes. Then I'd worry about Pedro.

~~~

When I came down for breakfast, looking more like myself and less like a swamp monster, I glanced around the corner into the communal area. They were sitting at a table inside to escape the scorching morning light.

I let out a sigh of relief when I realised the gang was missing the presence of one particular member I wasn't keen on facing so soon. I relaxed and left my hiding spot. My hand was still clutched onto my forehead in a hopeless attempt to stop the throbbing pain.

Two third of them were wearing sunglasses and the rest was still missing. The look wasn't anything unusual for Jim but he was oddly quiet behind his mug of coffee. "My boys." I greeted them.

"Speaking of the devil." Old tomcat Waits was his usual self. Either the alcohol didn't have a lasting effect on him or he didn't have as much to drink. "We were just talking about how nobody should mix tequila and beer, ain't that right, Chiwetel?" he teased him.

"Beer before liquor, never been sicker," the Brit replied in a tired voice.

I sat next to Bill and decided not to comment as I watched him crack one raw egg after the other out of a full carton and into a glass of milk. I shared a concerned look with Chiwetel, whose dark skin seemed a bit grey this morning. He moved slowly and grabbed a carafe with orange juice.

He poured a second glass and shoved it over to me. "Have some vitamins, dear. You need it," he said lowly, pushing his shades back onto his nose.

"Thank you." I sniffed at the drink and felt a sharp smell stinging my nose. "That's... not orange juice." I noticed with hoarse breath and coughed.

"Ayurvedic bullshit." Bill snapped, movements thrice as quick as anything I could comprehend. He shook some kind of salty smelling dark liquid into his own hangover cure and stirred it with a spoon. It turned a greenish-grey colour and I almost gagged.

The corners of Chiwetel's mouth turned downwards in disgust. "How can you drink that, you daft old man?" he asked Bill like he was out of his mind.

"You get my age and see how good you can handle a hangover without this stuff." Bill pinched his nose and gulped down half of his tall glass. Chiwetel, Jim and I watched in horror. Tom laughed.

"Excuse me, what exactly is this?" I asked Chiwetel, pointing a finger down at my drink.

He raised his own oddly coloured, spicy juice while Bill recovered. A chill went down the older man's spine and he jerked his head, shaking his entire face.

Chiwetel continued. "That, my dear girl, is orange juice with ginger, lemon, cayenne pepper and curcuma. Now that works wonders- Oh hello, Pedro. Good morning." he got distracted.

I knitted my eyes shut at Chiwetel's words. A familiar presence approached our table and I took notice of his heavier than normal motions behind me. Pedro was pulling out a chair and sat down right next to me with a deeply tortured groan. I didn't look. I couldn't.

"Mornin'." he rasped out. "I don't think Tilda is going to make it down anytime soon. Can't even blame her."

Jim slowly massaged his temples. "I guess that means we can't shoot today. But... I thought maybe we should take it slow anyway. As fortune has it, some kind of critter has chewed through the pool hydraulics and it doesn't pump any water. We will have to have it fixed." he sat his mug down and sighed. "There's always something. No pool scene for a couple of days, at least."

"Oh," I exclaimed, sounding too pleased. The others looked at me. "-I mean..." I changed my tone of 'oh' to a sad one and quickly gulped my orange juice. It burned my throat and I felt like I was able to breathe fire. My spine straightened, suddenly I was wide awake. "Bloody hell, and she's back, hello!" "Told you."

I couldn't handle spicy things very well but I already felt better after the second sip. It gave me something to focus on.

"I'll have what she's having," Pedro said in awe and Chiwetel poured him the remaining juice.

Jim continued like he hadn't heard us. "-Which also means that we're going to switch the scene schedule and shoot the sex scene-" I choked on my drink, slowing Jim down in his announcement. "-between Raguel... and Starling this instead of next week."

I coughed a few times, swallowing harshly. Pedro gently clapped on my back in an attempt to help me use my windpipe. When I finally looked at him for the first time after last night, I saw a mixture of bemusement and mild concern on his face. He was in quite a rough shape himself, hair a mess and dark shadows under his eyes. He was probably not done using pain pills just like me.

"Spicy." I rasped out, trying to put it on my drink. "Sure," he was unconvinced and sipped his juice like it contained only oranges. He knew me well enough that my eyes silently begged him to kindly fuck off.

Jim continued. "The change of schedule won't interfere with our due date. If you two are up for it."

To be honest, everything but the pool scene. I took a deep breath to make sure I was able to speak again. "Yeah, of course." I agreed in a professional business tone.

Pedro cleared his throat and leaned forward to let his elbows rest on the table. "When?" he asked.

"Friday. We all feel a bit... under the weather. I might just find a cool, dark place somewhere and make adjustments to the camera instructions."

"Yeah, it's really hot already. I think I might hit the hotel pool." Pedro announced. "Anyone care to join?" he looked at me after he had stood up from his chair. How gladly I would have taken him up on his offer but there was this issue with me and chlorine, which he didn't know about.

I stammered, looking back and forth between his face and extended hand. "I, uh..." When I tugged my hands under my armpits in a protective manner, he dropped his arm, slight confusion and maybe a little bit of disappointment evident on his face.

"I will!" Chiwetel threw in and stood up.

I gave Pedro an apologetic smile as both got ready to head outside. "I think I'm good, thank you," I replied in as much of a light tone as I could muster.

A smile tugged at his lips. "Ok. Well... see you around then." He looked like he wanted to say something else, mouth opening and closing and hand flying to the back of his head, ruffling his chocolate curls. When he turned and left down the hallway, without grabbing a single bite to eat, I was left wondering if I had hurt his feelings.

I couldn't read Tom's face but something told me he was the kind of empath who immediately knew what was going on. Before I stood up myself, I downed my glass and without another word, I left towards the empty hallway, wondering what I'd do with my day off. I decided I could maybe head towards the library but when I turned around the corner, I almost ran into a broad chest.

Pedro leaned against the wall in an expectant manner. I gave him a half-hearted smile and turned to find another hiding spot. "You're avoiding me," he called after me.

Instead of running away, I faced him with a clueless expression. "No, I'm not. I have no idea what you mean."

Pedro raised his hands, signalling he didn't mean any harm but he soon relaxed and let his arm lean above him while the other rested on his hip. He was somehow towering over me without being threatening. "Yes, you have. You're mad at me." he insisted, tilting his head with a slight pout.

I cooed, saddened by the fact that he honestly thought I held some kind of grudge against him. "No. Oh, lieverd." I used the endearment, slightly squeezing his arm. "I'm just... awkward and hungover and... embarrassed. And I expect that won't go away for a bit, not after the way I behaved last night. I don't know what to do." There. I had said it.

Pedro’s pout twisted into a wicked smile. Oh, no. I knew that face. "Well, I can think of one or two things." he mused.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, do you now? Me too, you know."

He was almost irresistible with his hooded eyes and the slight flex in his jaw. "Entonces pregúntame, nena. If there's anything I can do to help then all you gotta do is ask."

I didn't know how obviously I was struggling to keep in a moan. Luckily, I managed to swallow it and act like he didn't know how to turn me on in an instant. He was giving me a hard time when he was eye-fucking me like that. "I got a better idea. How about you just leave me alone?" I suggested with feigned bitchiness instead. I proudly crossed my arms and began to turn away from him.

Pedro managed to keep me with him by capturing my chin with his finger and thumb, grinning like a smug devil and making it clear to me he wouldn't let me off the hook that easily. "But that's not what you wanted me to do last night, am I right?" he murmured. I could only hold my breath and try to focus on something else other than my fleeting heartbeat underneath his fingertips or the throbbing in my lower regions.

Ok, that was it. I swatted his hand away, whispering inches away from his lips and I looked up into his mischievously glinting eyes as I spoke. "You're a terrible, terrible person and I want you to know that." I pressed out. He laughed lowly. "Oh, no, you love me."

I raised my voice in disbelief at this bold assumption. "Love you?"

"You love me and you just won't admit it." he bickered with me, back and forth. How dared he rub in the truth? I wanted to leave again but he caught my hand and made me spin around back at him just like our dance the night before. The look on my face made his shoulders shake with laughter. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you."

My mouth had become a desert nevertheless. "You, sir, can suck it forever!" I hissed and grinned as I twisted my body out of his arms, betraying that I still adored him no matter what a cocky bastard he had become all of sudden.

"I'll think about it," Pedro replied before I was about to leave him behind.

Oh, I couldn't let him have the last word, could I? I took brisk steps back towards him. "You! You..." I lowered my voice again, making sure nobody would be able to hear us. It was my turn to back him up against the wall with a slight shove of my finger. "Let me remind you that it was 'you' who decided to leave me all alone last night. You have no right to be so... so..."

The corners of his lips curled up in amusement. "So... what? Tell me."

"Infuriating! You drive me crazy, Pascal. I am still mortified about the way I behaved, ok? I am enormously sexually frustrated. I wish..." I couldn't say what I really wished for. I wished he hadn't left. I wished I could someday wake up in his arms the way it had been denied from me this morning.

For the first time, Pedro seemed serious. "Call me old fashioned but I don't think one shouldn't take advantage of a drunk woman. No matter how tempting she is."

I hummed impatiently, secretly knowing that he was right and I would most likely not have remembered it if we had ended up shagging. "Always the gentleman. I suppose I should thank you but I won't. Not after that cruel exit you made."

I would have been able to cut the atmosphere between us with a knife and I felt his gaze prickling my skin. Now that we both had confirmed that we wanted each other, everything we said and did only emphasised that we were due. It was like a ticking clock hung above our heads that counted down every second until we would eventually end up in bed together. I would have to decide if I wanted to save our friendship and return to the way we used to be or dive headfirst into... whatever this foreplay was.

Pedro’s fingers brushed mine and I wouldn't dream of pulling away now. "Too bad, I suppose you won't let me make it up to you." he guessed, head tilting like he was trying to find the best angle to kiss me. His deep voice and the sheer proximity was maddening.

I let go of my lip when I realised, I had been biting it sore. "Certainly not. It's my turn to leave you high and dry." I pulled away from him and he pouted again. If this had been a game of chess, my move would have been checkmate.

He smiled like a good looser as we parted ways. "Fair enough," he said.

"See you at dinner?" I tried a compromise in a chipper tone and we grinned at each other as if nothing happened. It was nothing special, we dined together almost every night.

"Count me in." Pedro was already out the door when he threw a wink back at me. He stepped out into the sunlight and put on his sunglasses.

It took me several seconds to recover. When I was sure he was gone, I let out a shuddering breath before I was able to collect my thoughts and remember what my original destination used to be. I needed a distraction and some solitude.

Time passed and the day only became hotter. I had been engrossed in my crime novel when I heard a noise coming from the garden. I stood to investigate when I heard Pedro’s familiar laugh.

I approached the window with my book tugged beneath my arm, a fond smile playing on my lips when I took in the scene before me. I chuckled to myself at the sight of Pedro in a t-shirt and swim trunks as he played with the hotel owner's two small children in the shade. The little girl and her older brother were kicking a football across the grass and they were giggling and squealing as they fought over the ball. Pedro played the defeated adult after he had captured the ball and he let the kids climb his back like a mountain. They had forced him to the ground and buried him under their small bodies.

Just when I thought I couldn't possibly fall any harder for that man, I was proven wrong again. I couldn't understand what he was saying to them in Spanish but he seemed to have given up. He raised his hand and groaned out a sound of fake misery. The children adored him for it.

"He's quite something, isn't he?" A smooth voice beside me commented and I jumped. Tilda stood beside me, looking out the window herself towards Pedro and the children. The taller woman, who I thought had been upstairs in her room with a terrible hangover was sipping on a cappuccino, steady gaze fixed onto them playing together. She was equally delighted at the trio and I looked back to see that Pedro was kneeling in front of the little girl. He put the ball down on the grass and encouraged her to kick it.

He was unaware of our observation. Pedro cheered when she kicked the ball. "I had no idea he was so good with children," I replied with a hint of a happy sparkle in my voice.

He had picked up the giggling toddler and pretended to snap his teeth at the chubby little hand she pat him across his face with, nearly poking out an eye.

"Look at them," Tilda said in amusement and I was startled again, sorry that I almost hadn't heard her above the sound of my exploding overies. "He likes you very much, you know."

"Yeah, me too," I replied quietly, almost choking on my words. Pedro ruffled the boy's hair with one hand as he carried the little dark-haired girl on his other arm. Their mother looked up from her rose bushes to meet them halfway with a winning smile.

I already knew he was a wonderful person and I was sure he would have been a great father too. I was saddened by the fact that the child who would have been absolutely spoiled with his love didn't exist. The realisation clouded my mind a little. I hadn't really thought about being a parent myself since the man in my last relationship already had four children and before that, being a mother just never occurred to me- but now? Pedro was everything a good man ought to be. I was surprised to find myself considering a domestic life all of sudden... with Pedro. A warm feeling spread from my heart through my whole body. Maybe... one day.

~~~

I spent the time before the shoot mostly in denial until the very moment I was presented with my costumes. The first was a nice white dress and the second... well... fitted into the palm of my hand. I suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that I would be practically naked in front of Pedro.

I distracted myself by memorising the tiny scribbled notes I had written next to my lines. It was a method I always used to create little impressions and help me picture my characters' inner turmoils better.

*The angel runs over my dead-end feelings*, it read.

I stored my script away and stepped onto the tiny green 'x' that marked my initial position. Pedro stood on the yellow cross.

"And... ACTION."

Raguel's hair was still tousled by the desert wind when he had come to visit Starling in her room. We picked up the scene where we left it. His eyes were full of sorrow as he eventually told me the truth. "You were killed, Starling. This is the afterlife. Or at least... a trial."

I smiled for a second, convincing the camera that I thought this was just a poor joke. I continued to collect my stuff around the room. "What are you saying? I'm going home tomorrow." I stopped packing when I noticed he was staring at me. My smile faltered as I tried to understand what this was about. "Raguel?"

He replied slowly, choosing his words carefully, in his always poetic way of speaking. "You set out on your journey back home, runaway girl, with regret weighing on your mind but there's no baggage to tow anymore and no trail ahead of you. You will never return."

It slowly started to dawn on me that he wasn't lying. "Killed?" I repeated weakly and then I seemed to remember. My eyes drifted into nothingness as I recalled the past. "That man..." It was true.

He nodded sternly.

Panic started to crawl under my skin. "-I just woke up in this bus that brought me here. What will my family do? My... father. Oh, why did I go? Why did I go?"

"I'm sorry." "Who are you?" "I'm an angel."

"Yes, I suppose you are." I made a face like it all made sense, trying to protect myself with a final but failed attempt of irony behind my veil of tears. "If I'm dead then why does this feel so real?" I almost asked aggressively. Starling recalled the darkest place she had ever been. There, deeper, all the way deeper where she refused to look, there was a light.

The angel stepped closer. "You are. Still real. You are the quintessence of the things left undone, unsaid, not lived, not loved. Only deep regret leads people to Azazel. She judges who is fit to follow the dark path."

"So there is a destination meant for me after all." I choked out a bitter laugh.

Raguel seized my arms. "I waited for you to make a decision, to do something. I waited for you and I burned in return. I didn't expect you to be... so lovely. I want..." He reached out to touch the warmth of my skin. "I want... to disobey. These times I learn I'm tortured." "Angels don't talk like that," I whispered.

"They also shouldn't feel the way I do." "What do you want from me? Smuggle me into your heaven? Don't make me laugh." My voice was laced with bitterness and deep sorrow. I cracked. "It's too late to fix me and rewind the damage I've done. You have to give me up."

In his own, intensely gloomy way, he became nearly desperate. "I can't."

Now stronger than ever, Starling felt like a stranger with a name she couldn't remember. "I don't even know what I am to you," I said, hugging my arms around me.

He gently connected his forehead with mine, closing his eyes, he tore my last protective wall down. "You are... my obstacle, my blessing, an ever-lasting memory that summons my thoughts towards my infatuation. Knowing that I can't save you tears me apart."

A tear rolled down my cheek. "But you already have." I sobbed, grieving that I had found love without a future. "How can I mourn the loss of heaven when you are right here?"

His thumb gently traced my cheek to wipe my tears away and the expression in his eyes send warmth through my entire body. "How can they not see how beautiful the light inside of you is?" Raguel said as he stared into my soul and the cameras didn't see me breaking character, for his words had melted the real me right then and there.

Pedro looked at me through his eyelashes, love and adoration so magically real. Why did I keep falling into his eyes? I snapped back into my role and only Pedro himself could have seen the subtle change.

For the first time, Starling felt home when he kissed her. I felt a familiar pull in my stomach at the sensation of his lips on mine, moving slowly and sweetly. It was easy to forget the cameras when I closed my eyes and poured my entire love for Pedro into the kiss.

My head was spinning when he stopped to look at me but I had a job to do.

No words were spoken as my fingers dove under the shoulders of his leather jacket to pry it off. His eyes never left mine and calmed my grief about my lost life. I stood to watch his reaction and when he didn't push me away, my hand travelled to the first button of his shirt. His eyes never left mine as he let me undress him.

Starling was vulnerable, her bravery leaving her the moment Raguel slipped his finger under the strap of her dress and let it fall off her shoulder. A tear spilt onto my chest and I sealed my sob by kissing him like there was no tomorrow. I put all my yearning for a real connection into the contact as he pulled me impossibly closer. Soon his black button-down had followed onto the floor and Raguel only momentarily separated from me to pull my dress over my head and attack my lips with more eagerness. He lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his hips as he carried me towards the bed, where he crawled on top of me. We surrendered.

"CUT!"

Maybe it was the nerves but Pedro and I both started giggling at each other.

I tilted my head despite the limited space for me between his forearms. "Was that ok? I didn't hurt your back, did I?" I asked, distracting us from our half undressed state.

Pedro shook his head. "No, don't worry. I did stretch before this." He was still looking down at me but eventually shifted into a new position, arm supporting his weight next to my body. I ran my hand through his hair tenderly. I would have loved to imprint his soft smile into my brain forever.

"Then let's do it again."

Eventually, Jim was content with the build-up and we moved on to the third and final part of the scene. Pedro and I were both in bathrobes, hiding our state of undress from the skeleton crew and ourselves. There were only a couple of essential people including him, me and well... the sex scene choreographer. Betty was a sweet person but with all these people present, it never wasn't weird.

It wasn't like I hadn't done this before. Sex scenes were part of the job and just like any other scene so why was this so awkward and hard and so... exciting? The latter, I had never experienced before under these circumstances.

I wished we wouldn't have to do this.

I wished we would do this in real life. Alone. I had wanted Pedro so bad, especially these past few days that I felt the need to slam my fist against the wall or sink my teeth into a pillow and scream. I had long lost count of the many curses I had repeated in my mind while I was crouching on the floor and petting Besos, the set-cat.

Pedro made jokes, he made me laugh and part of me knew he was only being this goofy to calm my nerves and make me more comfortable. He had turned his back to me and flashed Besos.

The cat looked up at his open bathrobe and yawned, which made me laugh so hard they had to reapply my makeup.

"Somebody get the cat out of here," Jim ordered in a bored voice while checking the camera angle and Pedro chimed in. "Yeah, this isn't a fucking peep show, Besos. Vete!" we chuckled at the cat, who skedaddled away.

Betty stepped in. "It usually helps to just hang out naked for a while, but you already know that, right?" I noticed the other crew members left the set to give us some privacy. "This too." she offered us a tray of shot glasses with a clear liquid.

"Ah, no thanks," I said and Pedro shook his head as well, gesturing for her to take them away.

"Ok." I jumped up and down like I was getting ready for a box fight. "Ready?" I stood in front of Pedro, gripping my bathrobe around the edges. He grinned and raised his shoulders. "Ready when you are."

"Three- two-" I counted backwards, and after we both said 'one' we dropped the robes, revealing our nudity.

I got rid of the bathrobe to reveal... well... almost everything. I was only wearing a tiny nude vag-pad and I couldn't help but cross my arms in front of my chest. Pedro on the other hand was looking into my eyes and eyes only. But Betty gave me an encouraging look and I dropped my arms.

I let out a huff of breath. "No big deal. Boobs, whatever." I gestured to invite him to take a look at me, so he glanced down and I was relieved at how chill he seemed to be.

He on the other hand wore something they called a modesty pouch which male actors used to cover their... crown jewels with. Otherwise, he was just as exposed. When I stole a glance, I barely managed to not widen my eyes. He surely was 'packing' underneath that horrid piece of cloth.

We both started laughing awkwardly.

Jim stepped in, blessing us with a distraction. "Hey, are we feeling cool about this? Betty, wouldn't you agree that we should slightly cover them with a thin sheet when they're on the bed? I want to reveal more by showing less."

"Yes, please lie down, you two. I wanna see your arms around him, mainly his shoulder and head area and you Pedro, just worship her like your life depends on it." Betty ordered. She continued to run us through every movement in a way that was about as sexy as following a road map.

I hopped onto the bed, ruffling through my open hair like Betty instructed and making room for Pedro. Before we could be tucked and torn into the right position, I pushed him back into the pillows one last time while I was still being myself. He looked surprised at my initiative but didn't seem like he was able to comment. I stared down at him, hoping he would catch the amused twinkle in my eyes. For a moment, we were hidden from the world by the curtain of my hair.

"This one isn't for the cameras," I told him before I gave him a chaste kiss. His lips were left pursed when I lifted myself off him after I had lingered for a second longer to keep staring into those lovely dark eyes.

"Look at you. I think we're done being nervous about this, aren't we?" he noticed with a smirk. Pedro regained control by flipping us around, making me squeal when he accidentally tickled my sides. His eyes widened. "You're ticklish." he noticed for the first time. "No?" I lied. Too late.

I automatically tried to defend myself but he was squeezing my sides again. He elicited another high shriek from me and chuckled at my newly discovered weakness.

"Pedr- Please, n- no!" I was a giggling mess. It felt like he was wrestling me around until he had finally trapped me underneath his body. Both his hands were pinning mine down into the mattress, right beside my head. He was much stronger than me and therefore, my chances of struggling free were limited. But it also meant he couldn't continue tickling me. I recovered slowly, laughter still rolling off the both of us and I realised I had never in my life felt more comfortable with a scene partner. Pedro freed me before I could start enjoying our position in a whole different way.

Betty chimed in from somewhere behind the cameras. "You ready?"

I tried to block out the cameras following us, already filming by now. "Yeah!"

"Do you wanna go for a beer and cheeseburgers when we're done... dry humping?" Pedro asked innocently as he positioned himself between my legs.

"Absolutely," I answered and he gave me a radiant smile. My hand was a fleeting motion across his smooth, toned chest, curiosity getting the better of me and I stole a glance down his happy trail, seeing his hip resting against mine in a harmless position. Betty was draping the thin white bed sheet over my legs which I used to wrap myself around him until our lower halves were covered.

"Scene 45, take one." someone said. The clapperboard shut and Jim announced. "Action."

The mood shifted in an instant as Pedro transformed into an angel desperate for the girl lying underneath him. He planted longing kisses on my breasts while grazing the soft skin with his thumb.

Of course, I was aware of the team, the cameras and the lighting but I couldn't help myself; every single one of his kisses felt like he was jump-starting my heart. The instructed gasp came naturally to me when he brushed against my nipple but he didn't give me a moment to breathe before he pressed his mouth onto mine. Skilled fingers kneading, first at my torso, then my hips, my ass and eventually inner thigh.

How on earth could this not be real? His lips were moving so sinfully over mine, tongue diving into my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip and sucking. I would soon call myself addicted to the feeling of his moustache tickling at my skin and I sighed, delirious from the sensation of his hand lifting my knee higher.

I needed to focus on our characters and recite my own notes in my head.

- He is a man poisoned by love, his look of steel, elusive. Under that moody and rough exterior, lies a gentle lover able to worship every inch of my body and soul as he runs over my dead-end feelings.

Dear God, I hoped my little pad was reliable enough to hide the growing clamminess I was unable to control. Even with the cameras, just Pedro touching me was more than my body could handle without risking my urgent need to give in to my primal instincts.

He smelled a million times better than any perfume or other scent in the entire world. He tasted better than anything my tongue had ever experienced. His kiss was searing hot and so close to the real Pedro. This was exactly the way he had kissed me on the night after my birthday. His tongue was probing mine, showing me I would never crave another man's kiss ever again.

His hips ground forward and- oh.

Feeling his hardened cock underneath the bundle of cloth against my thigh made me buck my hips upwards into him involuntarily and I met his covered length with the heat between my legs.

Raguel... Pedro groaned against my lips. We couldn't do this over stimulation but he had to raise his body a little higher, this time... and I emitted a short moan as we acted out the intrusion.

We were limbs, wet kisses, stolen friction, heat and arousal and I tried to fool myself into thinking that I was just really being my character. It was all too much and it wasn't even real. If this fake intimacy was this intense, how would the real Pedro act, I asked myself.

The sheet slowly flowed off our bodies, revealing more and more of our pretended connection while he moved his hips in a steady rhythm. It was then that Pedro lightened up the mood by humming a melody I recognised. He was singing a Fleetwood Mac song while he was humping me and I messed up the take by breaking into laughter. We had to stop filming.

Pedro immediately rolled off of me and hid a shy smile behind his hand. He rolled his eyes in annoyance with himself, covering his crotch with the sheet. "I'm so sorry about that. That's unprofessional." he excused his erection. Betty approached and sprayed us with more fake sweat.

Poor man, I thought. "Hey, have I told you the story about the day I found my grandpa's dentures in my yoghurt?" "What?" Pedro got startled by the mood swing and he looked at me like I had grown a second head. He soon began to wheeze and triggered my piggy laugh with it.

After our little break, things got easier and the atmosphere sterilised. I had told him all the gross details, which made Pedro smile at my subtle attempt to turn him off. It worked though and we were soon ready to continue our scene.

I met each and every one of his thrusts with Starling's need to cling to a soul that radiated the warmth of the sun. Raguel seemed to treat every second like there was no time and we had to speed up the truth in one magic rush.

I had to tear my eyes open when he groaned one final time as his very convincing orgasm rippled through his body. He melted into the arms of a fire that was meant to fade out without him. I cradled his neck as he buried his face into my shoulder. Pure bliss and pleasant morphine dreams illuminated my face as I pretended to calm down from the highest possible feeling in the world. Raguel exhaled with a shuddering breath, hips bottoming out like he could still chase another rush of endorphins. I held him like he was the only real thing left in my world and we just lay there panting softly. The largest part of our scene was all about the afterglow and I actually enjoyed doing that.

I felt worshipped by his gaze alone.

The camera was nearly poking into our faces.

"CUT!"

I propped myself up onto my elbows, still panting and looking like I had been properly ravished. I had long stopped caring about our nakedness. I smacked my lips, trying to regain my ability to articulate. "By the way, why 'The Chain'?" I recalled his random musical addition to our scene and we laughed. "Just an attempt to distract myself." he dropped into the pillows and exhaled deeply. Then he chuckled. "Though your story was better."

"Hey, it's alright," I propped my hand under my chin and let my arm rest on his chest. "Stupid human bodies and automatic functions. I told you I was comfortable doing this with you, didn't I? I trust you. You have full permission and I'm not weirded out. Don't worry."

His awkwardness was soon replaced with a growing fondness in his eyes. "Thanks. You know, I've never told you how nice you are."

"Hm, you love me." I parroted his words back at him, earning a genuine smile. I got into a sitting position. "But seriously, you think you're the only one? How do you think I feel? Jesus Christ. All of this for a thirty seconds scene." I would have to excuse myself to go clean up and change my pad.

Jim walked over, interrupting Pedro’s revelation by subtly clearing his throat. "We will need a few more takes to make sure we don't have to come back for a reshoot but you were nearly perfect. Try a little less tongue next time."

"Got it." Pedro and I both said. "Jinx!" We added simultaneously, pointing at the other.

We were up for the next round.

~~~

We hadn't forgotten about our little cheeseburger plan and I was famished by the time our shoot was over. The hotel didn't serve burgers though and I figured we would have to go somewhere else. I anticipated the evening beyond measures when Pedro told me to meet me in the lobby in one hour.

With the sun gone, the temperature dropped to a comfortable level. The night offered a tiny bit of relief from the sweltering heat throughout the day and yet it stayed gloriously warm and clear.

I spotted Pedro waiting by the entrance and he looked twice as I descended the marble stairs in my light and flowy summer dress.

I blushed at the way his jaw had dropped a little. "You look wonderful," he told me and I grinned as I tucked a strand of hair that had escaped my braid behind my ear. "Thank you. You clean up nicely yourself."

"Thanks." Pedro looked down at his attire like he hadn't realised. He had rolled up the sleeves of his deep purple button up and I had to admit that it stretched rather nicely across his chest and biceps.

"I'm curious where you're taking me. I've been wanting to hit the town for a while now. It seems perfect tonight."

The expression on his face though was apologetic. "Well, there's something I got to tell you. Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first?"

My face fell. "Oh, dear. The bad news is that I have to make a decision first." I joked and made him laugh. "The bad news, please." I cringed as I took the arm, he offered me. We walked in the opposite direction towards the hotel's gardens.

"They won't let us go downtown for safety reasons. You know, high risk of crime, possibly kidnapping, especially after dark. I'm sorry." Pedro said and I let out a tiny 'oh'. If I was being honest, I wasn't surprised and maybe a tiny bit relieved. That did sound logical. After all, Mexico wasn't the safest of all places but the rebel inside of me had thought Pedro had maybe found a way to smuggle us out of here and hunt for cheeseburgers.

But now I didn't know what the plan was. "So... we're not going out?"

"The good news, however-" he led me outside towards the rose garden. Quiet Latin music played somewhere in the near distance and I squinted my eyes to investigate the hidden light source behind the bushes. Pedro lifted a branch and revealed a magical place.

Soft candlelight illuminated the area around a table for two underneath the tree that had been conquered by white roses. The garden had been transformed. Colourful lampions hung above our heads between the branches and I was purely mesmerised and entranced by the sheer beauty of it all. "Pedro..." I began but words failed me. Nobody had ever done something like this for me.

Pedro on the other hand was watching me closely, lights dancing in his dark eyes. "Do you like it?" he asked, awaiting my reaction.

I knew my eyes were sparkling with too much emotion. "I love it. I can't believe you did this."

He pulled out a chair for me. "With a bit of imagination, we could pretend to be in a restaurant somewhere downtown." He suggested. When I was seated, he silently offered to pour me a glass of ice cold cerveza and I nodded, still in a slight daze from the romantic ambience.

"Was this what you meant when you said you wanted to make it up to me?" I asked.

"Maybe," Pedro answered mysteriously as he sat down opposite me.

We lifted our glasses for a toast above the neatly placed dinner table. "Well, it's a bit fancier than I expected but I guess we can get some cheeseburgers another time." I winked at him in good humour, raising the glass to my lips the same time as he did. What did he look so happy about?

The familiar waiter, a young lad I had come to know as Miguel came out of the bushes. He carried a tray topped with one of these fancy silver lids you would normally expect to be presented with in a place like Buckingham Palace. "Oh, what's thi- AH!" I interrupted myself with a sound of astonishment. There were steaming cheeseburgers and chips underneath. "Surprise!" Pedro cheered and laughed at my perplexity.

I could kiss him right now. "You're without question, the most amazing man I've ever met!" I told the delighted man in front of me.

It was a wonderful dinner, just the two of us. We talked and shared stories as we ate and it wasn't the first time that I thought I could spend every night with him, just like this, for the rest of my life.

He chuckled. "I enjoyed myself too. Who knew that working here would feel more like a holiday sometimes?"

It was late in the evening when Pedro escorted me through the garden back towards the villa.

"I had the most wonderful time," I spoke out my thoughts as I walked side by side with him. I leaned against his shoulder as I held onto his arm and he covered my hand with his.

"Certainly, with rendezvous like that. I could get used to it." I snuck my hand into his broad palm and felt butterflies ignite within me when he held it in return.

"I should take you out for dinner more often then." "It was a date, then?" "If you wanted it to be." He gave me the option.

"Yes," I replied as we reached the stairs. I was still holding his hand by the time I felt him tugging me back.

Pedro didn't move further and I turned around, a little confused why had stopped following me. I stepped down again, finally understanding. It wasn’t like my response had killed the mood; it had just made him more cautious, now that we weren't fighting our attraction towards each other anymore.

I didn't need to ask him why he decided to stay, for I knew he wouldn't want to let it seem like he expected to immediately take me up to my room after our first official date... not after the scene we just finished shooting. He was just being considerate and indeed, we were in no rush. I saw by the look on his face that he understood what was going through my head as well. If my impression was correct, we both cared too much for each other for this to be just a brief fling.

He smiled softly when I stayed on the first step of the stairs. Now at eye level with him, I rested my arms on his shoulders. "Thank you for tonight," I said and felt his arms sneaking around my waist to pull me closer.

"My pleasure." he purred. It felt like the right thing to do when I placed a soft kiss on his lips. He returned it for this brief moment that left me with a slight tremble to my hands. It was a short, innocent kiss that only mystified what we were. Our fingers were the last to part before I went upstairs alone.

Part 9

Translation notes:

(dut): kut - (eng): cunt

(dut): lieverd - (eng): darling

(dut): rotjoch - (eng): little shit/punk

(ger): gesundheit - (eng): bless you

(sp): entonces pregúntame, nena - (eng): then ask me, baby

(sp): vete - (eng): get out

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loving-inkpressions · 3 years ago

Text

Burning Up [4/?]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Just a little something short and sweet.

Prefer reading it on AO3?

It took almost three weeks for Denali’s ankle to heal, and within that space of time, Rosé had at her insistence driven Denali both to and from the office on a daily basis. During those drives, their friendship, as Denali pointedly called it as such in her mind, developed even more to the point where they had gotten even closer.

Purely platonic, of course.

Just work friends.

When her ankle had healed, Rosé had insisted to still drive her to work, but Denali had put her foot down and instead started taking the train to work again. That hadn’t stopped the redhead from driving her home on most evenings though.

On the fifth morning of Denali taking the train to work, she arrived to the office to find a box on her desk. It wasn’t a very big box, just a simple small brown one with a little purple bow on top. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen it before.

Dropping her bag onto the ground next to her desk, Denali picked it up and out of curiosity shook it just a little, hearing the muffled sound of several small things rattling inside.

“What you got there, Nali?”

Nearly dropping the box in shock, Denali whirled around to find Kandy staring at the box in her hand.

“Kandy, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Not my fault if you weren’t paying attention. Now come on, who gave that to you and what’s in it?”

“I don’t know.” Denali shrugged. “It was already here when I arrived.”

Kandy’s eyes brightened. “Looks like someone has a not-so-secret admirer!”

“Not so secret? What do you mean?”

“Girl, don’t pretend you don’t know who it’s from.”

Denali furrowed her brows, confused by the coy look on Kandy’s face.

“You mean Steve?”

Kandy’s expression shifted into disbelief as she looked at Denali as if she was stupid.

“No, it’s not Steve- Who the fuck is that anyway- No genius, think!”

Denali tapped the box with her finger. The only person she could think of was maybe Rosé, but it couldn’t be.

Could it?

“I don’t know who it’s from.” She said dumbly, making Kandy roll her eyes in exasperation.

“Sure, play dumb all you want. We all know it’s a certain hot boss that signs your pay cheque every month.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well then, how about we open it and find out.” Kandy challenged, reaching over to grab the box from Denali, but the blonde pulled it away, cradling it to her chest.

“Okay okay, I’ll open it! No need to snatch it.”

Huffing, Denali stared at the box for a moment, ignoring the impatient Latina shifting at her side. Finally tugging the ribbon loose and lifting the lid, she was hit by the sweet scent of malt and chocolate.

“They’re cookies.”

The very same cookies that Denali had mentioned in passing that she wanted to try when Rosé had sent her home last night-

Oh.

“Cookies? Wait, aren’t those the cookies you were moaning about wanting to try from that new bakery since it opened? I thought they had a waiting list or something that stretched for months.”

“Yeah.” Denali muttered, staring at the said cookies nestled in the box, a small glossy black card with the bakery’s logo embossed on it amongst the sweet treats lying inside.

“They are.”

She hated it when Kandy was right.

———

“Okay, so what event is it this time?” Denali asked as she plopped into the seat opposite of Rosé for their daily morning meeting, folio and trusty pen in hand while the box of cookies was safely tucked away in her desk drawer.

Rosé looked up from the papers in front of her, a look of confusion on her face. “What?”

“The cookies? They’re meant to be a bribe of some sort, right?” Denali replied. After all, there was no way that the redhead had given them to her for no reason. It had to be part of a ploy to get her to do something.

Rosé put her pen down and folded her hands in front of her.

“I don’t follow.”

Denali snorted in disbelief.

“The last time when you were trying to get me to be your partner for the benefit, you tried to bribe me with sweets. So what is it this time? Another benefit? A charity auction? Some boring social event?”

Rosé chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned back in her seat, eyes twinkling in amusement at how suspicious Denali was. “I just got them for you because you said you were dying to try them last night.”

Denali stiffened at the unexpected response Rosé had given. “Wait, so there really isn’t an event that you want me to accompany you to?”

“No Denali, I just wanted to get them for you because you said you wanted to try them. No ulterior motives whatsoever.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Rosé chimed back at her, leaning back forward. “Now what do you say when you get a present?” She teased, a manicured finger tapping the surface of her desk.

Denali shifted in her seat, a little embarrassed at having been wrong about her suspicions, but also a little warmed at the thought that Rosé had gone out of her way to get those cookies for her. She knew it couldn’t have been easy, especially on such short notice, and in the morning no less.

“Thank you, Rosé.” Denali said quietly, eyes focused on the desk in front of her, not wanting to meet her eyes.

Rosé smiled, taking in how Denali looked just a touch bit shy under her gaze, her cheeks a soft shade of pink and how the blonde was now biting her lower lip.

“You’re most welcome, angel.”

———

The cookies were only the start of the random gifts that began appearing on Denali’s desk on an almost daily basis, and there was no question who they were from. The gifts were never big. They had been simple enough, though sometimes toeing the line of almost expensive.

Rosé must have figured that Denali would start refusing them if they had been extravagant or impractical, and had instead settled for harmless ones.

At least they were simple in the beginning.

There were the little sweets that she’d somehow managed to sneak onto Denali’s desk: The seemingly never ending supply of chocolate in her desk drawer, different little mints she’d find after lunch in the middle of her keyboard, a random cupcake or some other treat delivered to her desk in the middle of the day, assorted breakfast pastries and coffee that would sometimes be waiting for her in the mornings.

Every time she got them, no matter how small they were, Denali’s heart would flutter in her chest, which she tried in vain to push down. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined these sweet gestures from Rosé, especially not after how disastrous their initial meeting was. She didn’t know what to make of them either, and she was too afraid to think of the possible implications behind them.

The little sweets soon evolved and included other things too.

Kandy was looking over her shoulder when she sat at her desk in the afternoon one day, staring at the flat box that had just been dropped off by a courier that was clearly addressed to Denali.

“Maybe she got you pizza this time.”

Denali laughed as she shook her head.

“I’m pretty sure DHL doesn’t deliver pizza.”

She stared at the package, finally snapping out of it when Kandy cleared her throat impatiently. Biting her lip, Denali carefully unwrapped the package and gasped.

It was a brand new folio.

The one that she had been using had started to show signs of age, having been one she had found in a thrift shop at the start of her time in the firm. Just yesterday she had been fingering the corner of it, silently bemoaning the fact that the material was peeling at the edges and the scuff marks were becoming more obvious.

This one was genuine leather, one that had been dyed a gorgeous deep blue with gold filigree detailing on it. Her name was also cleanly stitched onto the spine, and when she opened it there were more slots and pockets than her old one.

A white note card was peeking out of one of the bigger pockets inside.

Pulling the card out with slightly shaking fingers, she flipped it over to find Rosé’s familiar writing on it.

“Only the best for you.” Denali read aloud, her eyes widening and her heart picking up speed at the words written.

Kandy whistled lowly.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to just fuck you after all.”

———

To say that Denali was panicking would be an understatement. What Kandy had said had shaken her just a little bit, and she hadn’t really known what to do. All this time she had been trying to convince herself that maybe Rosé was just being nice, just being sweet to make up for how insufferable she had been in the early days, or had just wanted to be friends.

However, hearing someone else say it out loud made things very real for Denali.

She had been hiding out in the filing room like the coward she was under the guise of locating the files she needed for her next report. Rosé had the tendency to drop by her desk to exchange banter with her or to just tease her, or steal a little bit of whatever sweet treat she had given Denali for the day, but at this point, Denali had wanted to hide. She wasn’t sure how to face her own feelings, and in turn face Rosé.

Denali felt a little foolish. Part of her wanted to laugh it off and pretend that it really was all just purely platonic, but deep down she knew that there were different intentions behind Rosé’s actions. She had been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the time quickly ticking by, only realising how late it was when she heard the sound of the door knob twisting open and the sound of familiar stilettos clicking on the floor.

She panicked a little, realising she had no where to run as she sat on the ground in a corner of the room, though she was well hidden behind row after row of shelves.

Maybe Rosé was just here to locate something herself.

Maybe she’d just take what she needed and leave.

Shutting her eyes as she squeezed herself into a tighter ball, as if willing herself to grow smaller or invisible so Rosé wouldn’t find her, she crossed her fingers as she heard the sound of stilettos getting closer to her.

Maybe Rosé didn’t even know she was here.

“Denali?”

Or maybe not.

Torn between wanting to stay quiet and wanting to respond, Denali was startled when she felt gentle fingers brush through her hair. She opened her eyes and looked up to find Rosé kneeling in front of her, concern in her eyes.

“Baby, did something happen?”

Denali swallowed.

“Why do you ask that?”

“You always hide in the filing room when you’re stressed out.”

Denali stared at Rosé, surprised that she had picked up on her little habit.

“How did you know that?” She stammered.

Rosé just looked back at Denali and chuckled, tapping her on the nose. “It’s you, so of course I’d notice. Now tell me, did something happen? Do I need to fire someone again?” She teased, though Denali could tell she was only half joking.

Denali shook her head furiously. “No, nothing happened. I just wanted to get some files, that’s all.”

Rosé paused, observing Denali, noting how she was squirming under her scrutiny. It looked like Rosé wanted to say something, wanted to probe more, but she seemed to change her mind when she saw the hint of nervousness in Denali’s eyes. Not wanting to push it, Rosé instead stood up and held out her hand.

“Whatever you’re working on can wait until tomorrow, angel. It’s the end of the day and I’d rather you not work too late again considering how late you stayed last night.”

Denali looked at the redhead’s outstretched hand and, after a brief moment of hesitation, grasped it, letting Rosé help her to her feet. Once she was on her feet though, Rosé didn’t let go and instead led her out of the filing room, Denali’s hand held tightly in hers.

Gulping at the feel of her hand in Rosé’s, Denali couldn’t help but revel in how warm it was and how strong it felt. She found that she quite liked having her hand being held by Rosé.

As they entered the elevator to head back up to their floor, their hands still linked, Denali finally whispered.

“Hey Rosé?”

“Yes, Nali?”

“Thank you.”

Rosé looked over at Denali.

“What for?”

“The folio. I really like it.” She replied, peeking at Rosé through her lashes.

Rosé grinned, lifting their linked hands and pressing a small kiss to the back of Denali’s hand.

“Nothing but the best for my beautiful secretary.”

And Denali knew then that she couldn’t deny her feelings anymore.

She was falling for her boss.

———

The gifts only increased from then on. A new mug when Denali accidentally broke hers, an adorable little succulent when Rosé had commented how she needed to get more fresh air, a fountain pen when her pen had run out of ink in the middle of one of their meetings, a silk scarf when it started getting colder…

The list went on.

Each time Denali would make it a point to say thank you when she saw the redhead, and Rosé would smile, saying she was just looking after her. It made Denali’s heart warm and flutter wildly each time she said it.

And then one morning, she arrived to the office to find a new package on her desk. This one was bigger than all the others, the insignia of a familiar boutique on it.

Setting her bag down, Denali lifted the lid and peeled back the layers of tissue to reveal a dress and a note.

Be my partner for the anniversary gala?

#rosenali #rpdr fanfiction #burning up fic #work wives verse #inkpression writes

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aggieharkness · 3 years ago

Text

Hay que encontrar su propio futuro

Summary: She never meant to hurt her family once more, she had only expected to wake up with a hangover not with someone beside her that was about to turn her entire life upside down. She never thought she would get a chance at a new life with someone so different and at the same time so alike. Can they really find a future together?

a/n: Hello my dears!! Someone in the comments asked me a few things about the way Mariano feels in all of this and it made me realise that I had hardly written any of this from his point of view, so I hope this clears things up in regards to that. It is shorter than other chapters I've done but I've just finished my exams and my brain has turned into mush. If there's anything you want me to change in this chapter or add or ask don't hesitate, let me know and I'll make sure to do it, and if you have any requests or ideas I'll very happy to do them. Enjoy:)) I'm Spanish so I used expressions from my own language. I'm afraid I don't know Colombian ones so I had to work with the ones that I know. If there are any Colombians out there that would prefer for me to change what I have written I would very gladly do it, but even so, I hope you like the ones I have used.

warning: age difference, implied sexual content, past use of alcohol. Most importantly no Alma Madrigal bashing, i love this woman.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Hay que encontrar su propio futuro

Winter was long gone making way for Spring, the trees all around the Encanto full with life and pretty blossoms that were waiting for the heat to properly set in before opening up and becoming the juicy fruits people would later collect to sell and consume in the plaza. The air of the night was fresh and filled with so many different scents, early birds waking up singing their songs to start their day along a few people that needed to clean their stores or get an early start on their crops. Today Mariano was one of them. The clock had barely rang five thirty in the morning when he had pushed the covers aside and stood, the open window letting in the breeze that blew the curtains from side to side in the dark room. He made his way to the bathroom quietly so as not to wake his grandmother and quickly washed and got dressed checking his hair and beard in the light of the candle he had lit when he had woken up. The packages he had received yesterday were neatly wrapped in brown paper near the front door waiting to be delivered as he headed for the kitchen to have a bite to eat; he would wake up half of Colombia if he started preparing some coffee. He ate in pitch darkness a bowl of fruit and some milk before heading out into the plaza, all packages secured on his back by a huge bag Mirabel had made for him with strings to tie at his front to take wood up to his and Alma’s cabin. They were heavy and delicate and the trek towards Casita was long but the excitement he felt covered up any exhaustion he might feel. His plan was neat, perfectly calculated to the minimum detail, the only thing that was left was to go get Alma.

During his walk over the dirty path he happened to stumble over some random rocks as dawn wouldn’t be happening for another few hours, and by then he would be just in the right spot. His thoughts didn’t stay with him though, they travelled back in time to examine all the things that caused him to be right where he was walking at five forty five in the morning towards Casita to wake his partner up. He could hardly remember a time when he hadn’t been madly in love with her, his memories were all filled with moments of his life where she had been around. The earliest he could perfectly recall was from when he was about five, before that everything he remembered only short snippets of time that he didn’t know whether were real or a product of his imagination. He held that first memory very dear. School had just finished and he was waiting by the gates for his grandmother talking about nonsense with his teacher but the minutes went by and there was no sign of her and Rosa was never late but from among the masses of parents and grandparents the sight of a magenta blurr caught his eye, and as the figure became clearer he saw her, Alma heading his way with a bright smile on her face and a little bag of food with his name written in her beautiful calligraphy. She had kneeled in front of him explaining that Rosa was helping Julieta with Dolores birthday party and couldn’t pick him up but he hadn’t mind, he had been completely sweeped of his tiny feet by this woman who everyone said was stern and scary with evil eyes; to him she was the kindest person he had ever met apart from señora Julieta and his abuelita. She had come to him with a smile and sweet words and his merienda!

Thinking back she might have become his favourite person right there. From that instant on there was not a moment when he didn’t ask for her or look for her; he would tell Alma everything, even things he wouldn’t have even thought of telling his abuela or his friends, she just knew him better than anyone in the entire world. When he argued for the first time with his abuela and had burst out of the house screaming he hated her his feet had taken him to her, and as much as she wanted to ask and find out more she knew he was too distressed to talk to her without getting mad at her as well so she simply sat with him in the garden holding him in her arms as he cried. His tears had left a wet splodge on the front of her dress but she hadn’t cared, the only thing in her mind had been to calm him down and get him to talk with Rosa again. When he had finally built up the courage to go back home he saw Alma smiling at him from the window giving him a thumbs up; he hadn’t stopped coming to her when in distress from then onward. The sound of the water streaming underneath the river reached his ears but he was still miles away, eyes fixed in the horizon before him not really seeing where he was going simply trusting his feet wouldn’t fail him and make him take a wrong turn, but he highly doubted it, he knew that path like the palm of his hand and could go to and from Casita with his eyes closed or in the pitch darkness of the night. Every day of his life had been filled with her, somehow she always seemed to be there, when he came back home from school she would be playing cards with his abuela or waiting for him along her nietos to pick up the entire troop of children. When he started his first job at the grocers she had been his first client with the proudest biggest grin on her face he had ever seen, she had even refused Julieta to go down to the market that day because she wanted to be there for him to encourage him and help him calm those nerves she knew would be there. He had been sixteen then and Alma had been plaguing his thoughts by then for years, not that he would ever complain, her lavender perfume had become his favourite smell and one that would help him sleep when he felt anxious about things, those softs vanilla tinges from her soap were delicious to his mind enfolding every memory of her like frosting on a cake.

Every birthday was spent around his friends and family but somehow she would always be the one bringing her nietas to his parties, their parents were always busy and she couldn’t take those puppy eyes that Dolores had mastered in her first years of life; that’s how he would always ignore everyone around him until she showed up and would run to her and cling to her dress for several minutes before he was swept away by the other children. It had been a strange behaviour that his abuela had tried to correct but it had been a lost battle, something called him to her like moths to a flame. The first time she had kissed his cheek had been when he was eight and he still felt that tingling sensation her lips had left on his chubby skin. He had been playing in the park with Isabela and Dolores when his swing became detached from the pole, sending his body flying onto the sandy soil underneath. The pain of his scraped hands and knees had been astronomical, in child standards, and at the sound of his first wail Alma practically flew from her spot with Luisa in her arms leaving the girl to run to her sister so she could attend to the boy. One arepa later he sat on a bench sniffling holding onto her hands, Alma’s eyes travelling from his form to the ruined swing promising heaven above she would search for whoever had built the park and give them a piece of her mind; to calm him down she had kissed his cheek and told him they should go back to Casita to have some of Julieta’s buñuelos.

The sound of Casita’s door creaking open woke him up from his walk down memory lane. Good job feet, he had been completely and absolutely gone to the point that he could have fallen down a hole and he wouldn’t have noticed. Silently he patted the doorframe as thank you before entering the house leaving the packages safely beside it, heading up the stairs but when his foot reached the first step the doubts started assaulting him; what if she refused to open the door or sent him on his way? He had everything ready for today and couldn’t wait for another week and give away his surprise. He would have to risk it all, but just to make sure he sent a quick prayer to the sky while walking up the stairs into the hallway. All the doors were glowing softly in waves reflecting over the tiles, the owners of each room sleeping soundly oblivious to this “intruder” in their home. The church bells struck six o’clock, time running out. His steps became faster in his need to get to her as soon as possible, before Julieta came out and caught him inside her mothers bedroom, she would hardly believe he hadn’t spent the night there and he didn’t want Alma to have to face the wrath of her daughters for something that hadn’t happened, yet. Once in front of it he couldn’t help but admire her image carved on the wood; it had changed after Casita had been rebuilt, all of the doors had been modified somehow, hers showed now a candle without flame but a butterfly that represented Mirabel and her previous unfeeling expression now showed a bright smile that made her look far younger. His fist hovered over it for a second until it finally made contact in three quiet knocks hoping it would draw her out of bed without having to explain to anyone but her what the hell he was doing there at six in the morning. He remained there for five minutes waiting, not hearing anything coming from the inside, not even a cough, absolute silence the little bubble that has flared up in his chest getting smaller by the second in disappointment. Just as he was lifting his hand again the door opened slowly, Alma standing on the other side in her nightgown, hair in absolute disarray and eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the light and wake up a bit more.

-Mariano, ¿qué estás haciendo aquí? No son ni las site.

-Get dressed, quickly. - rather brusque, but he needed to be straightforward before dawn came and the moment would slip out of his grasp. He saw how her features hardened at the way he had practically barked the words out in a hushed hurried tone.

-Why? What are you going on about?- as if a bucket of freezing water had been poured over her head, her face turned into the sort of wide awakeness that one gets after twelve coffees in under a second, panic bubbling inside her chest, a shadow of fear crossing her eyes. - Has something happened? Is Rosa alright?

-Everything’s fine, everyone’s alright.

-Dios Mariano, me vas a matar un día de estos. What do you want? In case you didn’t notice I was asleep.

-I know and I hate to have to wake you up so early, but I have a surprise for you.

-Mariano, cariño, I love your surprises, but can’t it wait until, I don't know, maybe eight? Nine so I can have a very large cup of coffee?

-I’m afraid it can’t. I promise it’s worth it, just get ready and I’ll wait for you downstairs, okay?

-You better be taking me to see diamonds or I won’t let you in for an entire year.

-It’s very worth it caramelito, I swear. Just hurry it, okay?

If glares could kill he would already be buried six feet under, Alma was really starting to feel this murderous tendencies but she loved him too much to actually get rid of him, she simply threw a last hard glance at him and nodded. Mission accomplished and no one had been lost in the process, gracias a Dios. With the door closed he could hear her tired steps on the stairs becoming quieter as she walked away from him so he turned around and went back to the courtyard. Every inch of this house held some sort of memory, from when he was a child up until now, and everywhere he looked there seemed to be a ghost of her clinging to each stone. His feet took him to the dining room watching from a certain distance the kitchen. He had sat at this table, he had eaten with her many times and had danced with her in the continuous room, but at the sight of the back wall guilt settled deep in his bones. He couldn’t understand why he had done it, why he had pressed her against it and refused to listen, it had been as if his brain had been turned off and all he had done was let his most primal instinct guide him. He had felt her tense in his hold, her voice filled with fear and pain as she pleaded him to let her go but he hadn’t, he didn’t listen. Did she still fear him? She hadn’t given him any indication but maybe it was something that she didn’t want to talk about just yet and was hiding it deep within her soul. There was no way he would let her live like that, hiding her thoughts and feelings from him as not to hurt him, they were in this together and it had been his error, his mistake; the tiles around him raised as if they were confirming whatever he was thinking, the sentient house knew that he was trying as best as he could to change and be the man Alma deserved.

In these few months he had grown more mature, decisive, assertive and he liked this new part of him, it didn’t make him feel like he was a child still. In a short period of time his entire life had changed from a naive young man that didn’t know what he wanted and was rather volatile to this down to earth guy that was fixing all his mistakes for the women he loved to have the chance to create something strong and beautiful with her that would be able to survive anything. Looking back at the wall his guilt became determination, after all she had told him that the trust they once shared needed to be regained after what had happened that night at dinner. The counter next to the wall brought the memories of the party back as well; how her body pressed against his with the small of her back resting on the counter had felt, her warmth, her scent. It hadn’t been planned, none of the things that had happened in those two days had been planned, fate had just shown him a path that although it had been unorthodox had led them to where they were now. There were many things he would have changed, not telling Dolores for example, their friendship had suffered greatly after everything had come out but things had got better once the previous hate had turned into acceptance. To Dolores he was nothing but a crush that would pass because she had seen the little things that made her abuela smile, from the soft touches of fingers when they were at the plaza to the way she leaned on him after a long day when they rested outside in the garden.

He wouldn’t have lied to Alma either, the pain in her eyes when she had remembered and discovered the truth he had been hiding had broken his heart little by little and their argument had only made things worse for a bit; he hadn’t thought of how important sharing ones truth was for people until then. Some many things could have gone differently if he had done things right, maybe if he had courted her the way he was supposed to she would have said yes to him, but all those what ifs were nothing but numerous possibilities that were as real as magic and at the same time impossible to happen as a statute of smoke. If he let his mind wander down that long path he might forget to look at what’s right in front of him, which is the prospect of having a future with the woman he loved, pushing aside everything but the present. Everything from their shaky start had been plaguing his mind for months unabling him to sleep or eat, the guilt he felt at having used lies and manipulation to be with her; he hadn’t meant to sleep with Alma but he could’t refuse her when she had stood before him asking him to make her feel human again, the conflict of his feelings had been torture to him ever since. A cough from the courtyard startled him so badly he jumped on the spot he was standing on in the dining room, eyes still looking at the kitchen. Alma was waiting for him neatly dressed in a spring dress designed by Agustín himself with her black shawl draped over her shoulders giving him a questioning look, hair loosely pulled into a braid.

-What are you looking at? The house is all dark and you are staring at the kitchen like some creep.

-I was just observing the way everything’s placed to get ideas for our house, no need to call me a creep.

-You broke into my house to wake me up before dawn and are now staring at a wall with no candles lit; that classifies as creepy.

-I didn’t break in, Casita let me in and for information I wasn’t doing anything weird with your magical house. Come on, we have to get there before dawn.

-Get where? - her question fell on deaf ears as Mariano took the packages and quickly placed them on his back trying the strings to the front to secure them. The next instant he was grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door. - Mariano, ¿a dónde me llevas? ¡Mariano!

-It’s a surprise, keep your voice down or you are going to wake up the entire village.

-I wouldn’t scream if you told me what the hell you are doing?

-No can do, just keep quiet and follow me.

-If this how you are planning on murdering me to steal my house and fortune I have to tell you… We are poor and everything's an illusion.

-Ahh, my plan has failed. Come on, this is heavy and I know a shortcut. How good are you at climbing?

-Climbing?! I have a hard time staying on the ground. How am I supposed to climb?!

-We’ll just take the path around the fields then.

They didn’t even stay in that so-called path for more than ten minutes, they crossed the forest to head west from where Casita stood. Alma kept up with his speed quite well even without her coffee, probably out of anger and curiosity more than anything, in the distance the church bell ringing six thirty; they were still far away from the spot he had in mind so absentmindedly his feet speeded up a little more, crouching under branches and jumping roots and rocks. Feeling her hand tightly in his only encouraged his mind to wander off again to a particular moment when he had been around eighteen. Pepa had been having an awful time with Antonio in weeks prior to Mariano’s birthday and that had made it a little difficult for Isa or Dolores to spend time with him so he passed most of his days alone waiting for people to come to his fruit stand, but that day the clouds had threatened to rain any moment and so no one had really went out for much but he would remember it for the rest of his life as one of the happiest days in his life. It had been three days before his birthday and the sky above him had been the darkest most dangerous shade of grey he had seen in years which only made his anxiety grow throughout the day. Around midday the thunder began and he knew better than to stay out during one of Pepa’s angry outbursts so after closing his stand for the day he began his trek home only to see Alma coming out of the butchers with face as red as a beet and a shoe in her hand, basket broken on the floor. The instant his eyes had landed on her form she had practically run to him, the butcher screaming words he couldn’t remember at her but all his attention switched form the man to her when he had felt he hand hold onto him, her brown eyes pleading him to stay with her and help her without the need for her to voice her wishes.

The way her hand felt was practically similar to how it was right now except for one little detail, it had started to rain back then and neither of them moved for several minutes getting soaked to the bone but for some reason he hadn’t noticed it. Her eyes had been filled with gratitude and a slight shadow of fear that quickly changed when he had held onto her into affection, he could finally understand now what that new sparkle he had seen in her dark oceans had been; every little detail of her face was still fresh in his mind from the way the droplets of water had fallen from her eyelashes and the tip of her nose to the way random strands of hair stuck to her face; not a single bit of her hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. When the butcher had slammed the door making the glass vibrate at the sheer force the spell broke and his eyes finally looked up to watch the man disappear through the back door but Alma still hanged on to him refusing to turn her head towards the shop. A new crash of Pepa’s thunders close to where they were made him realise they were out in the open and without thinking he had pulled her with him as he started running towards the covered patios around the plaza sheltering them from the rain. Her laughter at her soaked clothes and the adrenaline of whatever had transpired with the butcher had been music to his ears to the point that he had joined her and completely wet and shivering from the cold both laughed at their predicament her hair out of its normal confinements cascading down her back, her skin glowing with a rosy tint caused by the cold of the rain. If he had to choose a single moment in his entire life he could freeze and hold onto he would choose that one.

In the moonlight that still shone high in the sky the leaves around them glowed in silvery tones and highlights casting white shadows over their form, their steps fast but steady. Underneath their feet the dry leaves and tiny twigs broke in quiet cracks as they walked over them, the only sound in the silence of the still night that enfolded them only accompanied by some birds that usually woke up before dawn. When they reached the edge of the forest the green endless fields in front of them shone as if they had a thin layer of fresh snow over them, green trees with big unripe fruits hanging from their branches swaying with the morning breeze, flowers of pale colours beamed under the night sky into the horizon. Alma was no stranger to the beauties of the night, but in all those sleepless moments she had been plagued by too many things to actually notice what mother nature had planted right in front of them. Today she was able to see for the first time what they had created, what the miracle had given them and she couldn’t think of a better way to honour her late husband than to look at her surroundings. Every single detail was engraved in her mind as they kept walking up the mountain through a narrow and dirty path, her skirt getting caught on some of the rocks and plants as they went higher and higher but she wasn’t looking at her feet much. The clear night sky was full of stars, the universe just barely out of reach with its reds and white nebulas spinning thousands of light years away from them and yet so close they reflected on her eyes as if she were in a trance. She kept on walking while her mind was miles away just as Mariano was. If he dared turn around to look at her he knew he would be lost and his plan would be thrown out the window the instant his eyes landed on her glowing form and as much as it pained him to miss that he stayed strong and kept on guiding her through the fields of daffodils and hyacinths.

After around thirty or forty minutes of walking his steps slowed down significantly making Alma tear her eyes from the sky towards him. She wondered what was inside those packages he was carrying so secured on his back, maybe they were something for the house, like some sort of special curtains or tiles but then again it made no sense for him to take her up a mountain to show her some curtains as beautiful as they might be. The path branched off into two, one that went up ahead, the other made a curve and went a little steeper up the mountain and of course it had been that one which Mariano took, his grip on her hand never faltering. He really would have climbed with those huge things on his back? She hoped not, thankful that they were walking instead of goating all around the Encanto. The only followed it for maybe five to ten minutes until they reached a bright green endless field of grass where no trees or bushes were seen, just the deep emerald green gleaming against the whites that rained upon it, little purple and blue flowers randomly popping in between those hundred of greens that you could only see at night when the world was quiet and the sun was completely gone. They still had time before the sun began to rise; in the east the previous dark sky was lighting up with those pale blues mixed with soft lavender tones among some now clear white fluffy clouds. Standing in the middle of the field he finally let go of Alma’s hand, turning around to face her, pale olive skin glowing, curious eyes staring intensely at him. The knot that had secured the packages to his back was undone and as carefully as he was able they were laid over the damp grass. There was no sound, not even the birds could be heard up here, just the soft breeze that flew around them moving their hair and clothes ever so slightly, the hem of her dress becoming wet from the grass underneath their feet that was soaked in the morning dew.

-Is this it? It’s not scenery that would make me drop to my knees, you’ve done better Mariano.

-Trust me, it gets better. Turn around.

There wasn’t much room for arguments, she simply turned with her back to him, eyes wide open when she set them on the scenery in front of her. Forty or fifty metres below them the village shone to the glow of the streetlights, some of the rooftops beaming with thin layers of ice that had frozen throughout the night, flowers still beautiful not wilting under the chilly night. The forests around it swayed softly from side to side, some random fireflies still floating in the air lazily in the streets as señor Flores worked to turn the flames in the lamps off one by one now that the sun was coming out. Alma took a few steps towards the edge, stopping a few feet from it, observing how the world was slowly waking up, the farmers heading to their crops with their dogs, windows opening to let the fresh air in, the sky getting lighter with each passing minute. To the west of the village the church stood proudly, its bells ringing each hour right on point, the tower the highest point in town, Casita presiding over the town with still silent halls. In her fifty years of having lived here she couldn’t recall having seen her village like this ever, no one had taken the time to show her how it all had changed, how her hard work had thrived. Mariano watched from a distance how her body reacted, all the tension slipping from her shoulders onto the damp grass under her feet like rain.

-I came here once after school and I couldn’t forget how beautiful it all looked. I thought it would be a nice surprise.

-It is Mariano, the most wonderful one in its simplicity and beauty. Thank you.

-I’m not done. Come here. - reluctantly she returned to him eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. - Now,you are not allowed to complain at all, it's a gift and that’s ir. I bought this months ago and it just arrived from Bogotá but I’m sure you are going to love it. Go on, open them.

So they were indeed presents for her and they came from miles away no less. Kneeling on the ground in front of the packages, her hands untied a bit shakily each string until all that was left to do was rip the brown paper. Fingers took hold of the first big parcel and pulled off the wrapping, the ripping sound revealing a suitcase of some sort made out of wood, heavy in her arms as she turned it around. The following gasp made him smile, her eyes reading the words Rembrandt in golden letters engraved over the wood, her face lighting up in utter surprise and delight.

-You… Tell me you didn’t.

-I did. I asked Gregorio to purchase the best painting equipment when he went to Bogotá. I told him to spend as much as he wanted, that I didn’t care how much it cost because it was for a very special person.

-But this is… You must have spent all your savings! What were you thinking!?

-Ah ah ah, no complaining, I already told you. I don’t care how expensive it might be, your brushes and paints are dry and overused; I would have done this sooner or later.

-Oil colours, my favourites. Dios Mariano, es maravilloso, gracias. Gracias. - at the speed of light her arms wrapped around his neck crashing her lips against his in short kisses, pecking him over and over as she thanked him in between kisses. - It’s wonderful.

-There’s more. I didn’t forget a single thing.

The rest of the packages were sets of paint and brushes and a brand new easel with a white canvas. The bristles were soft to the touch in dozens of different sizes, big and small tubes of unique colours she had never seen in her life filling several more cases. All the emotions reflected on her face were like oxygen for him, hands caressing every item with the utmost care as if they were made out of porcelain. Suddenly the image of her changed to one of a brunette young woman who was kneeling on the floor of a bedroom picking up from inside a wooden box a rag doll; at first he didn’t know what he was seeing until the woman lifted her head to look at him and he found himself face to face with Alma’s younger self giving him the brightest smile in the universe, but this memory wasn’t his, that much he knew and didn’t how on earth it was that he was seeing someone elses happy thoughts and moments of their life with her. Something in the back of his head was whispering that he did indeed know who they belonged to but preferred not to listen to it, he didn’t want to find out something about himself that could eventually drive her away from him. If he was the reincarnation of someone who had cherished her as much as he was hoping he would be able to, he would only accept it and move on remembering bits of a life that had never been his to live but from where he could learn. Seeing her in front of him now with her dress wet from the grass, hands grasped tightly at her chest admiring how she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes still on one single spot, the same bright smile that he had seen in that memory was all he needed inn this life.

She quickly picked up on why he had brought her here right before dawn and had given her all this brand new equipment. He wanted her to paint the sunrise from this specific point as it bathed their village with its golden rays waking up this little bit of the world to start another day. He didn’t even have time to suggest it to her, she was already getting the easel ready with the canvas on it, throwing the case wide open just in time to see the first oranges and purples tainting the sky, dawn finally arriving for their eyes only. If someone asked him when he had fallen in love with her he would probably say that he wasn’t sure, every breath she took, every word spoken, every step taken only made him adore her even more, but if had to choose a specific moment it would probably be when he turned nineteen, or at least when he finally realised it. His grandmother had wished him a happy birthday before he had left for work but no one else had come all day, it’s as if the world had forgotten about him, not even Dolores or Isabela had come to pull his ears, nothing. Defeated and in a very sour mood he had closed the stand to go have lunch and just as he was heading for the nearest restaurant Alma had showed up out of the blue holding a little box. The weather had been dark and gloomy until that moment, a bright rainbow had shone through the clouds letting the sun wash its heat over the empty streets for the first time that day. Upon seeing him she flashed him a big smile and approached him, handing him the present along with a happy birthday; inside it was a beautiful golden watch, the most beautiful and expensive piece he would ever own. There had been no need for her to give him anything at all, just a nice birthday wish would have sufficed but the fact that she had spared the time to look for something to give him was more than many had done in their entire lives. He had been the one to ask her to have lunch with him after that and to his surprise she had agreed, and just a meal turned into a wonderful evening around town and the lake strolling until dusk came and they were forced to return to their homes. People had chased after them to ask Alma for things, to talk with her but she had explained that she was unable to attend them at the moment and with certain anger on their faces they had left; she had gone out of her usual calendar to be with him and she had done it because she had wanted to, not out of pity. If someone asked him when he had fallen in love he would have to say that it would have been right then and there, as he watched her walk away feeling like a part of his soul was leaving him.

The sun broke through the mountain tops washing its warmth over the buildings, more activity on the streets. In her palette drops of reds, yellows, whites and purples mixed on the bristles of the brushes painting in soft strokes the sky that swam around them, meticulous in the way her hand moved over the canvas. There was no way he could actually look at the beautiful scenery when all his eyes could do was stare at her as she worked so completely engrossed in the world around her. It could thunder, an earthquake could happen just underneath his feet, a bomb could go off next to him that all he would see was her and the love she poured on the canvas. She only turned her head briefly towards him giving a sweet smile, but the universe had aligned to make this a sight to remember, the golden glows giving her a halo of light so pure that he could have sworn he was looking at an angel sent by God himself, her skin glowing with pink cheeks and cherry lips, thousands of freckles covering her flesh; she was a portrait that deserved to be in a museum, he didn’t feel worthy of this heavenly vision that was laid in front of him. Still looking at her he sat down behind her wrapping his arms around her torso feeling how she leaned on him closing her eyes for a brief moment before returning to her work.

-Gracias Mariano, de verdad. No one has ever given me such a gift.

-I owed it to you for all the pain I’ve caused you.

-Don’t. All that is behind us, you know you don’t have to buy me things to apologise.

-But I did do you more harm than anything and I am sorry. I made you fear me when I should have been the shoulder you could lean on. I broke your trust and I’ve been trying to fix it ever since.

-I know and I appreciate it. You getting this for me is not an apology, it’s just a present that my wonderful partner has gifted me after seeing that my own paints were old and overused and I am very thankful to him. You’ve apologised enough and have been trying your best to regain my trust, which I’m proud to say you almost have.

-Thank you for being in my life. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.

-Let’s hope that moment never arrives.

Her scent mixed with the morning blooms and the fruity perfumes of the early berries, her words floating inside his mind like flowers that get carried by the stream of a river. Those three days he had spent away from her had been hell and the argument with his abuela the night before hadn’t helped things at all. He had feared something inside Alma’s brain had clicked and made her realise that she didn’t want him around, that he was dangerous and he had forced himself to believe just that, if he stayed close to her, if he tried to pursue whatever this was that things between them might end up being destroyed completely and that is one thing he knew he could never live with, but it also angered him that she hadn’t even told him what she was going to do or warn him that she needed time, everything had happened so fast and all the commotion of those two days vanished into thin air with only his guilty and anger at himself to console him. It had even been crossed his mind for a minute or two when he was sitting on a chair in his room that it might be better if they didn’t see each other at all, that things should go back and would go back to normal if he stayed away, but his heart wouldn’t let him, every waking moment she was there like an apparition looking at him with emotionless expressions, nightmares plaguing him in his sleep of an angry ocean swallowing her into the depths were he couldn’t reach her, save her, a reflection of what he had done to her when he had promised himself he would never hurt her. Even if her words right now sounded truthful he’d rather spend the rest of his life apologising and earning her love and trust because he shouldn’t have harmed her the way he did when he claimed he loved her, one moment doesn’t mean that he will do it again, but it also doesn’t mean that he won’t and the clearest thought in his mind was to swear on his life he would never lift a finger to her even if it killed him. Right then with her between his arms it dawned on him that he wasn’t just in love, all those dreams he had of her were more than just things one would write in fairytales, he wanted to marry her and spend the rest of his days being blessed by her beauty and her kindness. He wanted to kiss her eyes when they cried and take her in his arms in the dead of the night feeling her warmth pressed against his chest hearing her even breathing. He wanted to marry her.

#alma madrigal #abuela madrigal #Encanto #dolores madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #bruno magridal #mariano guzman #señora guzmán #Disney

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

Text

Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 1

Summary: The first thought that comes to mind as he looks at the scene in front of him is: wow, she’s cute. The second thought is: holy shit, did she just flip a six foot, two hundred fifty pound man into the ground without blinking an eye?

Thank goodness there’s time for second… and third.. And fourth impressions?

Seriously, how many creepy people and criminals does this girl deal with on a daily basis?

1(you are here) | 2 | 3 | ao3

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Damian Wayne is sure that if his elder siblings were watching him right now, they would be screeching at him to go help the girl. But-- well. His siblings and his father aren’t watching, and he isn’t sure whether or not the girl needs his help. The weirdly hooded man who is rapidly closing in on her might just live in the same direction. Surely, this time, his instincts are wrong. He’s only following them for peace of mind. Nothing is going to happen.

Otherwise known as: Damian isn’t particularly feeling up to saving another girl outside of his Robin costume and then being come on to. Why girls always have to have a Thing for people who saved them, Damian will never understand. He can’t imagine attempting a relationship with somebody who saved him, though admittedly the pool of candidates of people who are superior to him in capability is small, and far too annoying or old for him to ever consider dating them. And even thinking about having a relationship with somebody who couldn’t take care of themselves gives him the chills.

This leads to a very contemplative two minutes of walking the same path that the girl and the hooded person were taking-- he is not following them--until the girl who is being stalked darts into an alleyway. Of course, the hooded person follows her.

Is she trying to get herself killed? Damian can’t believe the sheer idiocy of the girl. At least the last girl he saved hadn’t done anything as stupid; her attacker cornered her near her home. Gotham girls know better than to duck into random alleyways. There is too much crime in Gotham for anybody with self respect to be so dumb.

With a sigh, and a wish that his brothers and father hadn’t beat a moral conscious into him, he lopes over to the alleyway, expecting to have to break up whatever futile struggle the girl put up with her stalker, or maybe even knock out the guy because by now, she must either be unconscious or on her way to other unpleasant circumstances.

Except.

By the time he gets over to the alleyway, the girl walks out unscathed, phone pressed to her cheek.

“Yes, you should check 12th arrondissement, two streets down from the Opera Bastille. He’s 6 foot, blonde haired and brown eyed. Wearing a grey hoodie and adidas.” The girl brushes past him, blinked at his appearance, then continued on the phone. “No problem, officer.”

Damian looks into the alleyway and there the man is, head lolled to one side. Unconscious, probably. His hands are tied up with a pink plastic zip tie. He looks out of the alleyway, eyes trailing after the girl who just left. She barely reaches his shoulder. Maybe, Damian thinks drily, Parisian girls are different.

At least Damian won’t get another adoring fangirl today.

Damian is sitting at a coffee shop across from the Louvre. It’s overpriced, and the coffee tastes awful, but it’s still coffee, and he’s tired. He’s here to check out the akuma that the Paris media keep reporting about, even though the Justice league of America shouldn’t have to deal with Europe’s problems, and also largely believed that it was a publicity stunt on Mayor Bourgeois' behalf.

Now, the Justice League of America isn’t really sure what is happening, but surely it can’t be that bad if the city has no damage, right?

What a joke. Damian has been here three days (count them-- three) and he is almost sure that he has been transported into some alternate dimension where some little kid’s imagination went wild and plopped the ever loving conundrum of Paris, France into Damian’s hands.

On the first day he arrived, there was a pigeon akuma-- apparently, one of the more frequent ones that popped up. Ladybug-- one of two consistent Parisian Heroes-- made quick work of him once she arrived on the scene, but it took her a while to arrive. Almost a whole half hour. Which meant that the streets of Paris were filled with bird poop and flooded with more pigeons than Damian knew existed, and he lived in Gotham. The other hero, Chat Noir, arrived after Ladybug, but handled the situation more warily. He later found out that this was due to the superhero being allergic to feathers, as witnessed by a video on this site called the Ladyblog.

Due to some freak magic power called the Miraculous Cure that Ladybug called after her battles, the streets had been blessedly cleaned, and the pigeons flew back to their mostly hidden existence. The world was right, once more. Then, on the second day, he tried and failed to save that weird girl who knocked out a man who had a good hundred pounds on her. He’s not sure that tried and failed is applicable to the situation, as the girl seemed competent enough to take care of an issue like that on her own.

Today, another akuma appeared. His name is Deliverer, a postman who had one too many customers complain about a package not being delivered in a timely manner.

Damian isn’t really sure how he felt about having people turning into villains over such trivial things. He is also no longer sure whether he is the best choice for this mission. His emotions tend to run hot, and there is the chance that he might become compromised. Because if there are people out there turning into villains over not being able to feed some pigeons, there is no way that Damian’s own annoyance with his family and the random people on the streets won’t be taken advantage of. However, out of his family, it’s not like there’s any better choice. Dick, maybe, but he’s busy with Kor’i and his daughter, and they won’t want to move to France. And he doubts that the superheroes of Paris want a metahuman trying to solve the case in Paris after seeing how much damage a normal citizen can do when akumatized.

It only takes ten minutes for Ladybug and Chat Noir to arrive on the scene this time. Whether it is because it is a new akuma, or whether it is because they were closer to the scene of the crime, Damian can only guess. He thinks it to be a combination of the two; Mr. Pigeon is a very common akuma and the people deal with his issues quite often, thus he is probably lower on the priority list. The heroes have their own lives to deal with, Damian is sure.

In any case, Damian rushes to the akuma when he gets an alert from the Ladyblog and is able to catch the tail end of a battle where Ladybug doesn’t even have to use her Lucky Charm. She just takes the clipboard after some bizarre yoyo moves and snaps the clipboard over her knee. When the butterfly flies out of the clipboard, she purifies it. Easy breezy, and no involvement from Chat Noir, yet again. The cat looks tired and Ladybug says something to him, her posture reminiscent of a mother scolding her child, after which he flees the scene.

Then, Damian gets caught up in a wave of exhaustion. Forgoing sleep for the past two days trying to catch himself up on the situation in Paris before making any major reports back to the league will do that. He needs coffee, badly, which is why he finds himself in this tourist trap coffee shop with some of the worst coffee-- wait. That girl seems familiar.

He spends a few seconds trying to place her. Short, pig-tails, part asian, blue hair and blue eyes. The girl he saw coming out of the alleyway yesterday. Of course. She is on her phone walking slowly and frowning, purse hanging at her side. Damian traces her movements. She is naturally graceful, but closes in on herself. He looks a little closer. Her eyes look red. Perhaps she is dealing with the aftermath of yesterday’s situation.

From the side, a guy darts out at her, reaching for her purse. The girl drops her phone to the floor in shock, clutches her purse, and then side-swipes the guy. A hand to his neck, a foot to his knees, and then her arms pulling his behind his back. She pulls a zip tie from her purse and ties his hands up, then picks up her phone almost exasperatedly and before calling someone.

Vaguely curious, Damian picks up his coffee and approaches the girl and criminal. Several others have done the same, only to be waved off with a blindingly bright smile and a yes, she’s fine, thank you very much.

“Need help?” More of a courtesy than anything else.

“No thanks, Monsieur.” The girl looks down at the time on her phone, then scrunches her face up. Freckles dot her pale skin. A text message alert from her phone causes her to scowl, and she looks down at her phone, then back up at Damian.

“Actually, could you do me a favor? I’ve really got to get back with my class, and I don’t really want to leave this guy in the middle of the street like this. I just called the police, and they should be here any minute. Stay with him?”

It’s not like his research on Ladybug and Chat Noir can’t wait a few minutes.

“Sure.”

Then, the girl runs off without another glance backwards. True to her word, the police do arrive a few minutes later.

“Where’s the girl that called?” The policeman asked with a furrowed brow.

“She had to leave.” Damian eyes the man, who has barely looked at him. The policeman is assessing the scene, taking in the handiwork of the pigtailed girl.

“Half-asian, blue eyes, freckles?”

“Yes.”

The policeman handcuffs the criminal. “That poor girl. She always seems to attract these street thugs. It’s really a blessing that she can take care of herself.”

This piques Damian’s interest. “This happens often?”

“She’s almost like an urban legend, at this point. Whenever we find a criminal tied up with a neon pink zip tie, we know it’s her. A real shame, too. She’s such a nice girl.”

He’s not sure if nice was the word to use. She looked slightly stressed and harried. Polite enough, but she certainly has no trouble putting guys twice her size down.

“Well, thank you for your help.” The policeman tips his cap and makes his way to the patrol car.

Damian goes back to drinking his coffee and scrolling through the Ladyblog on his phone.

“I’ve heard you do this quite often.” Damian appears at the girl’s side like a ghost, but she doesn’t jump. Doesn’t even flinch. Just takes a step back to reposition herself and gives him a side eye. Tactically, a good decision if he is another potential attacker. She created just enough distance that it would make it harder to attack her, but had moved in a smooth fashion that said she wasn’t going to run and was prepared to stand her ground. Her body half faces him, like she is ready to put up her guard at any moment.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Her victim this time is unconscious. Damian isn’t exactly sure what happened, but the quivering girl only a few feet away from them made him think that the girl in front of him has a bit of vigilante in her, because it is clear that this time she hadn’t acted in self defense.

In an act of goodwill, Damian takes his hands out of his pockets slowly, showing that he doesn’t have anything to hide. In response, the girl-- who Damian mentally decides to call Pigtails, since she’s had the same ridiculously childish hairstyle for their past three encounters-- relaxes, just a little, and turns her attention to the crying girl instead.

“Do you want me to call the police?”

Pigtails eyes flicker towards the man on the ground, who is what Damian approximates to be six foot three and two hundred and fifty pounds, and then towards the crying girl looks to be in her mid twenties.

Pigtails hasn’t tied this one up, yet, but she has flipped him onto his stomach. Judging by the lingering look that she gives the man’s unbound hands, and the ziptie that she pulls out of her small purse, she’s ready and willing to tie him up at the slightest movement, or at the other girl’s command.

“I’m going to tie him up, okay?”

The other girl manages a yes, please. And so, Pigtails brandishes her ziptie, directs Damian to call the police; tell them they’re on Barbes Boulevard.

Damian assesses the situation before the operator comes on. The would-be victim is somewhere around twenty four, is slender and full of what his brother, Dick, would call French girl charm before getting hit by Cass or Barbara. She has brown hair that’s a mess on the left side of her hair, probably from the man grabbing her on that side, and is lightly tanned. There are bruises on her wrist and on her cheek that are quite visible and continuing to darken.

Now that Pigtails has tied him up, Damian nudges the man’s face with his foot to see what he looks like. Average looking at best, and he reeks of alcohol. Damian crinkles his nose. Midday drinking is not a good look on anyone. His clothes are also cheap. Fast fashion, but bad.

Then, there’s Pigtails herself. Evidently she trusted him enough to look after the brute, because after giving him a once over and nodding, she goes over to the other girl to comfort her. Damian is sure that Pigtails can’t be much older than himself, but he's not sure. She has a sort of timelessness about her, between the lightness in her step and the sharp, intelligent look in her eyes. Her sense of fashion is simple but chic, and whatever she is wearing looks pretty high end. Designer, even.

After relaying the information that he has gathered to the operator, he is told to please wait there with the victim and the attacker, and if he could have the other party involved stay there as well, that would be fantastic.

Pigtails is surprisingly good at calming people down. The other girl seemed seconds away from a complete breakdown and was rocking back and forth, muttering to herself before Pigtails started talking to her. Already, the other girl’s crying turns to hiccups, and then stops. She is then embraced by Pigtails, circles rubbed soothingly on her back, and a gentle smile that makes Damian purse his lips. He doesn’t see that kind of smile often in Gotham. Everybody is harder there, less willing to help. If they see somebody in danger, most times citizens hurry on their way because they don’t want to get involved. When citizens do get involved, their aftercare is fairly rough, if there is any aftercare at all. Even as a vigilante, Robin didn’t often comfort victims afterwards. He helped them to police stations or the hospital occasionally, but never stopped to talk with them.

By the time the police get there, Pigtails has the girl standing with a watery smile on her face. What a feat. Damian wonders, briefly, if having Pigtails’ social capabilities would help victims back in Gotham.

“Ah, Marinette,” the police officer smiles warmly. “We meet again.”

“Officer Raincomprix,” Pigtails inclines her head.

The officer is of stocky build, red headed and green-eyed. He cuffs the man, lugs him to the back seat of his cruiser, locks the door, and then comes back out. “I’d like to take your statements, now.”

Damian learns that the attacker, Fraser Barbot, was in several of Nicolette Deanne’s master classes this year. Both were studying business with an emphasis on fashion, which resulted in a lot of time spent together. Fraser thought that a relationship was the inevitable next step. She refused, because besides their master’s emphasis, they didn’t really have much in common. She also just wasn’t interested in him. He became slightly more hostile to her after her rejection. Then, as the months went by, they started vying for a lot of the same job opportunities. Nicolette had gotten the most prestigious one, and had many other companies attempting to persuade her into joining their business instead. Fraser had gotten very few, and was convinced that Nicolette had stolen those job opportunities away from him, had seduced her potential employers, and asked her why she wouldn’t do him if she was so willing to put out.

That was when Marinette had come in. She was walking to a fabric store when she heard the commotion and saw Fraser hitting Nicolette. By the time she got over to them, Nicolette had already acquired several bruises on her arms, shoulder, and face. After arriving, she promptly knocked him out.

By the time the three of them finish their statements, nearly ten minutes have passed, and Officer Raincomprix bids them farewell.

“If you ever feel like you’re in danger again, Miss Deanne, feel free to call. Since you want to press charges, we’ll be in contact with you soon. Call us if more than three days go by without hearing from us. A taxi has been called for you, so you can get wherever you were going in peace.”

Officer Raincomprix turns to Marinette and Damian with a slightly sunnier disposition. “And thank you two for helping. Especially you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you ever change your mind about wanting to go into law enforcement, just give me a call. I should really have Sabrina do whatever training you’re doing, because it’s clearly effective!”

Marinette laughs. “The bakery is magic. Between lifting bags of flour, running around the city for deliveries, and Maman’s cooking, anybody could do what I do. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the studio down the street from our school, though, so you could have her look into that.”

This, Damian thinks, is such a bald-faced lie he almost chokes on his own spit. There is no sort of magic food that imbues a person with the ability to fight like Pigtails does and lifting flour bags in a bakery doesn’t suddenly allow people to take down people with ease. She has to have had some professional training, though if he is being honest, her movements feel like they have more of an origin in street fighting than they do in any martial arts.

She’s remarkably good at lying, mixing jokes with statements that had the possibility of truth. Maybe Damian is just being paranoid. Maybe she trained at some studio that she didn’t want to mention and the studio taught amazing self defense. Maybe she is just an excellent study. Somehow, Damian doubts that was the truth of the matter, but there isn’t much of a reason for Damian to spend his precious time determining the reason why this girl lies to policemen. It’s her business. It doesn’t concern him.

Then, Officer Raincomprix heads back to the police cruiser and Nicolette gets into the taxi she ordered for herself, looking worlds better. Marinette turns to him with a smile. The smile is so blindingly bright and pure that he suspects it lets the girl get away with a lot of things. “Thanks for the save. It was a lot easier to calm Nicolette down since you handled the call. I’m Marinette, it’s nice to meet you.”

Damian nods in return to her wave and smile. “No problem. I guess this answers my earlier question. You do get caught up with criminals quite often.”

She flushes, and it makes the freckles on her pale skin show even more. “What do you mean by that?”

“You seemed to be on very good terms with that police officer.”

“Oh, that. He’s a classmate’s dad. I’ve seen him around plenty of times.” She waves him off.

A very good liar, indeed. Pigtails keeps to half truths and vague statements. Damian gets the feeling that she definitely saw him more often in the capacity of a police officer than he did as a friend’s father. Understandable to lie to him, though. He is just a stranger, and he certainly doesn’t go around telling every person on the street his life story. Maybe Pigtails values privacy, just like he does.

The movement of the police cruiser catches his eye. Fraser has woken up, and he is not happy about being handcuffed in a police cruiser; they can hear him screaming at Officer Raincomprix from the street. Marinette’s eyes jump to the cruiser as well, eyes narrowing as she sees a butterfly approach the cruiser.

“Oh, for--” Marinette glances at Damian, at the butterfly, and then at Fraser. She makes a split decision. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This is not going to be pretty.”

“What do you--” Pigtails is pulling his arm with more strength than he thought possible. If this is just her pulling him, it’s no small wonder that she fares so easily against all her opponents. She definitely has strength behind her small frame.

“Fraser is probably going to get akumatized and we have to get you to the nearest shelter. Then, you’re going to wait there until the all-clear alert is given, got it?” She pushes him into a building, says by way of explanation to the bewildered looking employees, “Akuma,” and then rushes off, saying, “I’m going to go home, because clearly I’m not going to be able to go shopping for fabric today.”

Damian doesn’t stay in the shelter that Pigtails has so kindly guided him to, and there are a few people who look at him in confusion; people should be entering the building if there’s an akuma attack, not leaving. But Damian has a job to do and watching the battles up close is much better than watching the footage on the Ladyblog, which, in recent years, has turned into little more than poor speculations and attempts to stoke relationships between heroes that haven’t been used in years. When he looks at the information the website had up years ago, Damian finds a bunch of interviews that clearly haven’t been fact checked done with a girl named Lila, who is in the class he’s going to be transferring into, and despite the fact that they’ve been taken down since then, he doesn’t trust most of the Ladyblog’s information without video evidence. Not the most reliable news source about akuma, however, most other blogs he found didn’t have any videos taken up close. The older footage of past battles on the Ladyblog were pretty good quality, but they had gotten worse and worse, which meant that Damian and the Justice League didn’t have a clear picture about the heroes’ or villain’s capabilities.

By the time Damian arrives, back on the scene, Ladybug is already there in her red and black spotted glory. She has pulled Officer Raincomprix to safety.

“I am Shackled! Burdened by unfair double standards that allow incompetent tramps to get jobs before other, clearly more superior candidates do and by the corrupt justice system that wants me to go to jail, I desire what I should have been given to begin with! The affections of ladies clearly below me, and jobs that were made for me.” Convenient. If every villain explains their modus operandi to the heroes, it is probably easier to take them down. “Give me your Miraculous, Ladybug!”

The hero scoffs, avoids the chains that Shackled controls, and crouches atop a car a fairly good distance away.

Chat Noir lands, quick to make a pun. “If you feel so tied down by society, why don’t you just bug off? No woman wants to deal with somebody who has such a su-paw-riority complex.”

Ladybug rolls her eyes, but allows the pun. “Chat Noir’s right. You need to get taught a lesson on ethics and morality. If a woman got a job and you didn’t, that just means she’s better than you. Your interviewers probably saw that you had an awful attitude and work ethic. Nobody wants such a toxic person in their work environment.”

“Don’t you mean clawful, m’lady?”

“Chat,” Ladybug reprimands. She tosses her yoyo in the air. “Let’s get this over with. Dealing with misogynistic akumas is annoying. Just talking to them uses up all of my common sense.”

She throws her yoyo in the air, and calls, “Lucky Charm!”

A pack of zipties falls from the sky. Ladybug groans. “You have got to be kidding me. Zip ties? Really? You couldn’t have given me anything else? This is going to take forever. Chat, grab some of his chains and zip tie them together.”

“You’ve got to be yanking my chain, m’lady. We can just take him out without using the Lucky Charm.”

“No, the akuma is in the chain that’s between his handcuffs. And we can’t get there unless we immobilize all of these.” She gestures around wildly, then begins the process of grabbing chains and zip tying them together. As she continues to tie more and more together, it begins to get harder and harder for Shackled to move them as he wants, and a butterfly mask flashes over the akuma’s face.

After almost thirty minutes of tying and avoiding the few free flying chains that there are left, Chat Noir and Ladybug finally get all of the chains in one messy bundle that is too heavy for Shackled to control. At one point in the battle, Ladybug darts towards Chat Noir, a concerned look on her face, but he brushes her off and they continue working. Chat Noir cataclysms the chain between Shackled’s hands, and sure enough, a butterfly flies out. Damian watches as Ladybug shoves the butterfly into her yoyo and feels his eye twitch as the black-purple butterfly comes out white. He hates magic. It makes things so much more complicated than they should be.

“Bien Joue,” the two superheroes say to each other before heading off in opposite directions.

Damian sticks to his first thought. Whatever is going on in Paris is definitely the equivalent of some kid having a series of very weird dreams.

______________________________________________________________________

All the way up to ch 4 is already posted on ao3! I’ll be posting this fic daily up until i catch up :) also how do you decide where to put the keep reading for all you experienced tumblr users? idk where a good place to break is

#miraculous ladybug #daminette #dc #mlb x dc #sbgs #ch 1 #maribat #original content #adrien agreste #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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say-the-name-sebongie · 4 years ago

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Fighting for Justice

Synopsis: Justice will be given

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: angst :)

Warnings: school violence and violence in general

Word Count: 3K words

Getting to school early was only one of the things that made students on campus call Wonwoo a "teacher's pet". That was in addition to his perfect grades, perfect attendance, and perfect school record. He was the top scorer in all exams and never had a graduation ceremony where he didn't walk up the stage with some kind of medal or award. Not to mention the fact that his family sponsored most of the university's endeavors and projects. In the eyes of a teacher, he really was perfect.

If he wasn't in class, people would often find him sitting in the library, quietly studying, or typing away on his laptop. They speculated that it was the side effect of being a teacher's pet. Some pitied him for not being able to have any fun but most people just found his presence annoying. There was no point in studying and it looked like he was just doing it for show. His parents were already paying the professors to give him a high grade. Or so they believed.

Wonwoo could hear their whispers but choose to ignore them. After all, he understood where they were coming from. He felt his phone buzz and started packing his things after reading the message.

As he moved away from the table he was sitting at, Wonwoo's eyes fell on a bunch of "elite students", the ones who paid to stay on top. He knew that bribing people with money was one of the easiest things in the world for those who had an abundance of cash. The names that were at the top with his on the score sheets were printed on there with cash. Children from well-off families didn't need to study for their names to be on top of the list, money got it there for them so there was no need to even lift a finger.

That system of "bribery education" lead to the formation of a secret organization, a rebellion, Laqueus. According to them, their main goal was to expose under the table dealings that robbed hardworking students of their rightful place at the top. They were after justice and a fair opportunity for all students. Your place should be determined by your hard work, not your status in society or the amount of money you had in your bank account. All the students— aside from the ones who bribed their way to the top— silently adored and supported them, though nobody knew who was actually affiliated with the group. In one way or another, having such an organization gave them hope that this injustice would end. They endured, believing that the leader of the resistance was sure to come to save them from their misery.

On the other side of the library, _____ pocketed her phone and sat back in her chair as the members of Laqueus entered their hideout. A file was opened on her laptop, emailed from their leader which contained the meeting agenda he had set for the day. Packaged books were stacked on the shelves surrounding a large metal table where various floor plans for the entire school were laid out. The book storage room at the back of the library wasn't the ideal place to hold secret meetings but it was all they had.

A knock came from the door, making all the members perk up. _____ quietly stood up and motioned for the others to hide. If the faculty found out that they had their secret meetings in the book storage room, their plan of achieving justice would fail and all their hard work would come to nothing.

_____ knocked once on the door. "Fiat Justitia." a boy's voice came from behind the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, she opened the door and came face to face with their youngest recruit.

"Hey, leader!" Chan chirped, beaming at her. _____ sighed. "For the last time, I'm not the leader, Chan. I just receive his messages and deliver them to the team."

She ushered him inside. The boy gave her a smile and limped into the storage room. _____ looked down at his feet and noticed that Chan's right foot was bandaged. She frowned. "You were injured from yesterday?"

"Yeah," he answered sheepishly as one of the other members helped him onto a chair. "I was trying to get away as fast as possible."

_____ could only shake her head. It was normal for at least one of them to get injured from a strike. Preparing the materials, executing the plan, and getting away without being caught was very dangerous work. If any of them had been seen it would mean the end of their school life. Expulsion was the punishment for such an offense against the school and being expelled meant that you couldn't fight anymore.

Checking her phone again, _____ told the members that they would start the meeting once the new recruit showed up. They shifted nervously at the news. Getting new members was risky business. You could never tell who would betray you.

"Don't worry," she assured them. "The leader says that he's a good one."

Another knock came at the door. After making sure that everyone was hidden, the vice-leader approached the door. _____ knocked once. She counted, one, two, three seconds before receiving an answer.

"Fiat Justitia."

A smile formed on her mouth as she opened the door to welcome their newest member, an asset that would be a great addition to their cause. The other members of the resistance gaped at who was standing at the door.

Jeon Wonwoo.

__________

_____ figured that it would take a lot of convincing to get the other rebellion members to stop harassing the poor boy with questions. But she couldn’t blame them, who wouldn't be suspicious? If there was one person who would most likely betray them, it would be the infamous teacher’s pet. She had already brought up this concern to their leader but the head of the resistance seemed to have great trust in Wonwoo.

"And why exactly should we trust you?" Seungcheol demanded, banging his hands on the metal table and leaning close to the new recruit's face. _____ could only smile and stay quiet. After the few conversations she already had with their secret leader, the girl was already convinced that the quiet student would never betray them. From what she heard, his hatred for the unfair system probably amounted to more than hers. Plus, with a mind and bank account like his, their plans and attacks were bound to be more successful. To her, Wonwoo was a force to be reckoned with even if he didn't know it yet.

"First of all," he said in a surprisingly steady voice for someone who was being interrogated, "I already know where your hideout is." Seungcheol's open mouth closed itself. With just one sentence he managed to silence one of the fiercest members of the resistance. "Second, I don't need to be on the receiving end of the injustice to know that what those people are doing is wrong."

"Everyone deserves a fair chance to place on top. The only thing that should get a student's name on the list is the grades that they've cried and bled for. A fair chance for everyone is all anyone is asking for. I know how hard it is to stay on top and the fact that there are people who don't have to do anything to be able to surpass what I've achieved on my own angers me."

Wonwoo eyes looked around at the other members as he spoke. _____ saw a light burning in them and spread like a wildfire to the other members in the room. It looked like she didn't need to step in and convince them to accept him as a member, the new recruit was doing that quite well all on his own.

"We have the same goal."

Seungcheol walked up to him and held out his hand for Wonwoo to shake, his mouth breaking into a proud smile. "Welcome to the resistance."

__________

_____ thought that accepting Wonwoo was proving to be one of the best decisions their secret leader had made. She even considered making him a vice-leader along with her. It was like he was born to be a member of Laqueus.

When there was a hole in their plan, he would always be the first to point it out. Funding for their strikes wasn't a problem anymore with his expendable bank account. It seemed that the thought of him betraying them had already been forgotten. Wonwoo was such a big help to their organization that upon hearing of his acceptance ceremony, the entire rebellion wanted to come.

"It would be too much of a risk." _____ reasoned out with them. "Having a lot of people in one place, especially in a place where they aren't supposed to be, will just put us all in danger of being found out."

In all honesty, the acceptance ceremony wasn't much. It was just called that way to make it seem more dignified.

"You're just here to receive this." _____ said as she handed him a small box. Wonwoo opened it and found a thin red ring inside. "Are you proposing?" he joked.

_____ smacked him lightly in the arm. She raised her own hand and showed him the red bracelet clasped around her wrist. "That's just a way for us to see who's on which side."

"That red band is a simplified version of the blindfold that the greek goddess Nike wears." Jeonghan, the team's Intel, said as he strode leisurely into the storage room with Jihoon and Seungkwan following behind him. "The blindfold means that justice is given regardless of who the person is."

"And why is it red?"

"We're at war, idiot." The girl's voice came from behind him. Wonwoo looked at _____ and smiled when she put her hand on his shoulder. "Red is the color of war."

The sound of a pen tapping on the table made him turn towards his other friends. The core of the resistance looked back at him.

"What's your decision Wonwoo?"

He looked towards Jeonghan and Jihoon who were seated around the table. "Well, we don't have all day."

Seungkwan placed a paper on the desk and tapped it with his finger. Wonwoo leaned over the desk and read the words printed onto it.

Laqueus

Member: Jeon Wonwoo

Position: Vice-leader.

The newest member of the organization picked up the pen and signed his name, the red ink stark against the white parchment. The other members smiled and stood to shake his hand.

"Welcome to the core team, vice-leader."

One by one, each core member came to him and shook his hand. “I hope you answer correctly,” Seungcheol whispered into his ear, patting the boy’s back before exiting the room with everyone else.

_____ was the last to stand in front of him and shake his hand. Wonwoo raised his eyebrows at her, their hands still clasped around each other's. He knew from her expression that she was about to ask him something. She had the exact same expression his professors had before they announced a pop quiz or surprise recitation.

“What is the meaning of our secret code?” _____ challenged him, though she already had a feeling that he knew. Wonwoo was one of the smartest kids after all. It wouldn't be a surprise that the meaning of Latin words was just general knowledge to him.

“Fiat Justitia,” he smiled, shaking her hand one more time. “Let justice be done.”

__________

Wonwoo could only keep silent as he watched the members of the core team pace around at the sudden news. He internally face-palmed himself over and over again for not checking which email he had been using before he sent the plan for their strike at the nearing media conference. He was too coffee deprived last night to even register that he was using his personal email rather than the one he had created specifically to use for things that involved Laqueus. Lying to them about his real identity was useless. They would see right through him. All he could do know was tell them the truth.

"So," Jihoon said shakily, his hands gripping the headrest of the nearest chair. "You mean to tell me that you're our leader? All this time?"

He looked towards _____ who was still staring at the computer screen where Wonwoo's email address was written as the sender of their top-secret plan. Wonwoo didn't answer. Honestly, he wasn't sure if they were happy that he was their leader or not. From the blank expressions on their face, it was hard to decipher what thoughts were running through their heads. He was especially aware of _____, sitting a little to his left with her lips pressed into a thin line. She ran a hand through her hair. "Everybody out."

From the look on her face, anyone could tell that disobeying was not an option. As soon as they were alone, she sat in front of him. After confirming three times that he really was their leader she laid her head on the table.

"Are you mad?" Wonwoo carefully asked, afraid that his mistake would ruin the organization. _____ laughed weakly. "Mad? I'm relieved."

She lifted her head and stared at him as if she couldn't believe he was real. "I'm just so happy that you of all people turned out to be our leader. Man, I can’t wait until the others find out—”

“You can’t tell them,” Wonwoo said sharply, cutting her off. Her big surprised eyes met his own, in disbelief that he didn’t want to share this with the rest of the team. “But they’d be so happy to know—”

“_____,” Wonwoo’s voice was low and quiet. _____ froze under his piercing glare. Never had she seen him this serious, not even during important meetings. “If we ever get caught, it's easier to say that you don't know when you really don't than to lie because you know.”

He bent down to look her right in the eye. “This is my way of protecting them.”

The leader of the resistance walked towards the door and threw it open, revealing the embarrassed faces of the other core members who were caught eavesdropping. He looked back and forth between them and _____. “You will tell no one. That’s an order.”

__________

Sabotaging the media conference was the hardest strike they had ever executed. It was also the plan that got their organization caught. None of them, not even Wonwoo, had presumed that the police would be involved.

As the last of the members were pushed to their knees at the foot of the stage, Wonwoo could do nothing but blame himself. He was ready to face punishment on behalf of the organization. That much he could do as their leader. From his place on the stage, his eyes flickered around, looking at the beaten, bloody faces of his comrades. It hurt to see them look so defeated.

"Who is your leader?" the principal's low voice pierced through the silence. With the media gone, he was free to do with them as he pleased. The blank faces of most students made it clear that they didn't know. The principal took a breath to ask again but he was cut off by a low voice from behind him, from someone on the stage.

"I'm the leader."

Wide-eyed students turned in his direction. The fact that the top student in the school had just claimed that he was the leader of the very rebel group that was going against the system was a big shock to the student body and faculty. Wonwoo held his head up high as the principal stormed towards him. The school head grabbed him by the hair, making the boy look him in the eyes. Despite the fear growing in his heart, Wonwoo glared back at the principal, undaunted.

"You had so much potential. Why did you have to throw it all away for poor stupid brats like them?" the principal exasperatedly hissed into his ear as if he were begging Wonwoo to deny his leadership in the alliance. But Wonwoo was anything but unloyal. Even as he was beaten and dragged off to be imprisoned, Wonwoo didn't deny his identity. He was proud to have led such a noble cause and be followed by such honorable people.

The cries of his comrades when the guards were called to take him away echoed in his ears. They watched as his hands were bound by handcuffs, screaming for the police to take them instead. Without a leader, the members of Laqueus felt like their chance of gaining justice was gone.

"Fight," Wonwoo told them as he passed by. He caught sight of _____'s tear-streaked face, almost making him regret exposing himself and leaving her. But as the leader, sacrifices had to be made.

"Fight," he repeated louder. The spark that had been put out lit up again. A solemn atmosphere spread throughout the room like a fog, blocking the sight of those who didn't have a fire burning in their eyes. His comrades knew what he meant and that's all he needed.

And as the police car that he sat in pulled out of the area, Wonwoo saw the same defiant faces that looked at him when he posed as a new recruit, the ones who were tired of having to be a slave to the unjust system and ready to fight for what was right. He knew then that this fight was far from over.

Even if Wonwoo was gone, the resistance was still at war. His last words echoed in their ears, filling them with determination. Especially _____, who Wonwoo had clearly looked at in the eye as he delivered his ultimatum. She nodded at him, promising to finish what he had started. Their leader had given an order and they would follow through.

"Fiat Justitia. That's an order."

#seventeen #caratwritersclub #svt #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshots #seventeen imagines #i still dont know what to put in the tags #someone help me #i was watching chicago typewriter while writing this so if there are similarities know you know why #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo oneshot

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace. “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed, giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

7 notes · View notes

shyvioletcat · 5 years ago

Note

'Staring At The Other’s Lips, Trying Not To Kiss Them, Before Giving In' sounds very firefighter au to me, lol. eventually 😂

Just want to take a moment to say thank you for everyone’s support and that I love you all.

Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin stopped by the post office on her way home to pick up her package. A very discreetly packaged package. She was already smiling at the thought of executing her plan. Parking in the underground carpark Aelin picked up the package from the passenger seat and got out of the car. A quick look around told her that Rowan wasn’t back yet. Good. That meant she had time to sort everything out before he arrived at her apartment for the night. Then Aelin started her ascent up the stairs.

Once she finished climbing the stairs and was in her apartment Aelin opened the package straight away. She opened one of the items giving the instructions a quick read before plugging it in to charge. I second item she took with her into the bathroom, still in the packaging and hid it in the laundry basket, stowing it for later use. Then she turned on the shower.

~~~~~

Rowan had had fun today, showing Aelin’s class around. They seemed like an alright bunch of kids and hadn’t caused any trouble, which hadn’t been the case with other school groups. After he’d finished work he had come straight home and showered. On his way out of the fire station he had been bombarded with question by his coworkers about Aelin, Vaughan had been very interested whether or not she was single. He’d dodged answering as long as he could before admitting that she didn’t have a significant other. The look on Fenrys’ face when he gave up the information was surprised, to say the least. Not at the fact that she was single, more the fact that Rowan didn’t say anything about his... feelings.

Feelings that Rowan pushed far, far away from the surface as he knocked on Aelin’s door. She answered quickly, dressed in leggings and a loose tshirt. She smiled at him moved to let him in, which he did.

“What would you like to order? I love a good carbonara myself but I didn’t know if you were a red or white sauce person,” Aelin said as she sat on the couch.

“Do you have a menu?” Rowan asked as he sat in the armchair.

Aelin passed him her phone and Rowan flicked through the options.

“The marinara looks good,” Rowan said as he passed the phone back. Aelin made a face. “What?”

“I’m not a fan of seafood,” Aelin said, tapping at her phone. “But it’s done, should be about 40 minutes.”

“Sounds good,” Rowan said.

There were a few beats of awkward silence then it was Aelin who spoke.

“Your colleagues seem nice. You all make quite the handsome team,” a smile quirked Aelin’s lips upwards as Rowan felt his face flush a bit.

“Ah, thank you I guess?” Rowan said with a shrug.

Aelin took on a contemplative expression. “I’m yet to decide for myself who is the handsomest, but maybe if you tell me which of them might fancy me it might help with my decision.”

Rowan choked on a laugh. “I don’t think any of them would know what to do with you.”

Aelin grinned fiendishly, which brought out a full laugh from Rowan.

“So Captain Salvaterre,” Aelin said but Rowan cut in.

“Lorcan. He would definitely not be interested.”

Aelin straight out scoffed. “What a stupid name, and trust me I’m not either. What’s his deal?”

“I just don’t think he was made to be friendly,” Rowan explained.

“He was certainly trying with Elide,” Aelin said, her voice conveying exactly what she thought about Lorcan’s niceness towards her friend. “You looked even more surprised than I was.”

“He doesn’t love the school visits so he’ll often use his position to hide in the office, so I was surprised to see he’d brought the freebie bags out for the kids.”

“Hmm I see. What about the blond one? Not the obnoxious one, the older one. What’s his story? He looks familiar but I can’t quite place how,” Aelin said.

At the mention of Fenrys Rowan blocked out the feelings of jealousy he felt at his blatant flirting, instead he focused on Aelin’s question. “Gavriel. He transferred to our station a few years ago, bit of a travelling fireman. He’s worked in a lot of places, this is his first stint in Terrasen though.”

Aelin nodded but it seemed his explanation didn’t help her place where she might recognise him from.

After that they fell into easy conversation as they waited for their food to arrive. When it did Aelin went down stairs to grab it, by the time she came back up she was out of breath.

“I am never living in an apartment complex without an elevator ever again,” she said as she dropped the food onto the coffee table before heading to the kitchen for some cutlery.

Rowan got the containers out of the bag, putting Aelin’s to the side as he cracked the lid open on his own. I smelled delicious. Aelin handed him a fork and he didn’t wait any longer before he started eating, Aelin doing the same once she sat down. They ate in silence, enjoying their food.

“Did you want to try some? It is really good,” Rowan asked.

Aelin eyed him sceptically.

Rowan put a mouthful together on his fork. “Here.”

Aelin shuffled over from the far end of the couch to be closer to him. Then she didn’t extend her hand to take the fork... No. She just opened her mouth. Rowan moved the fork and tried not to focus on the way her lips moved, how they might move against his.

Aelin’s sound of surprise snapped him out f his thoughts.

“You know what? That is pretty good,” she said, smiling. “Can I have a little more?”

They both ended up sharing their pastas, but Aelin definitely ate a good third of his, more than Rowan ate of hers. But he didn’t mind at all.

~~~~~

Aelin had definitely eaten too much. She hadn’t planned to, but both the pastas had been delicious. Afterwards they put on a movie but Aelin had pretty much spent the whole time ignoring it and scrolling through her phone. When it was over she switched the TV off.

“Bedtime?”

Rowan nodded. “I’ll go get my stuff.”

Rowan left but Aelin stayed right where she was. She needed Rowan to be in bed first for her plan to work. Indeed, there was a look of surprise on his face as Aelin was just where he left him. She didn’t say anything as she practically skipped off to the bathroom. She pulled out the package she had hidden earlier and pulled out its contents. Aelin held out her prize before her and smiled. Then she brushed her teeth and combed out her hair before taking off her leggings and tshirt. Then she slipped on the nightgown that had fortuitously been delivered today. One final check in the mirror and Aelin made her way to the bedroom.

When she got to the doorway Rowan was on his phone. But becoming aware of her presence he started to look up.

“Starting Monday I’m swapping to night -”

Rowan words died as he took her in, his eyes raking up her body, once, twice.

Aelin’s lips spread into a feline smile.

~~~~~

Rowan forget everything he was about to say as he took in Aelin standing in the doorway. She wore a nightgown of gold, metallic gold just as he’d requested. The silk clung to her body sinfully and she looked like a living flame.

“Do you like it? It’s new. Only delivered today and I couldn’t wait to wear it,” she said coyly.

“It’s very... nice,” Rowan said through gritted teeth. Every second he looked at her another one of those fraying threads of his self control snapped.

“Just nice?” Aelin stalked towards the bed.

Snap, snap, snap went the threads.

“Very nice.”

Aelin slipped between her sheets but didn’t bother to pull them up past her hips. Then she stretched, arching her back.

Rowan snapped his eyes away. If he looked any longer he might do something he might regret, not regret but maybe wasn’t ready for. So instead he turned off the light on the bedside table and rolled so he wasn’t facing her.

Aelin laughed, a soft breathy sound that had his own breath catching.

“Goodnight Rowan,” Aelin said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“’Night,” was all Rowan could say back. Anything more, anything that would keep him interacting with her for much longer was going to snap those last few threads indefinitely.

~~~~~

A soft buzzing woke Aelin up. She had put her phone under her pillow so it would wake her, and only her. She unlocked it, opening the app she had downloaded yesterday afternoon. Aelin had tested it yesterday and hoped that it would still work this morning.

Then as softly and quietly as she could she slipped from the bed and crept around to Rowan’s side. His phone was on the bedside table which she picked up, then she opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table just a fraction. Then on catlike feet she left the bedroom.

She dropped Rowan’s phone on the kitchen bench. Aelin really thought the nightgown would be his undoing, and she’d freely admit that she was surprised when it wasn’t. She was getting impatient and was contemplating putting her games aside and make the first move. Either way, she was not passing up the chance to use this joke on Rowan.

Aelin softly padded back to the doorway of her bedroom, leaning on the wall beside it. This was as far as far as she could get away from it, any further and it lost signal. Pulling up the app again and biting her bottom lip between her teeth Aelin pressed on. A dull vibrating noise sounded from the drawer, Aelin quickly changed the setting so it more closely mimicked Rowan’s alarm. She heard the bed shifting, and then Rowan groaning. Then he was slapping around on the bedside table as he searched for his phone. Finally, Aelin heard the bottom drawer roll open.

Rowan let out a surprised sound that almost sounded like a yelp, and Aelin bit down on her lip harder as he yelled a very frustrated utterance of her name. Then there was stomping and Rowan burst through the door.

His hair was mussed from sleep and he looked entirely too handsome as he searched for her. His eyes were blazing as he spotted her by the door.

“Seriously?” Was all he said and Aelin burst into laughter.

~~~~~

Aelin stood there leaning against the wall laughing. Laughing at her little joke that had him pulling a small vibrator from her bottom drawer just like she’d insinuated a few mornings ago. He saw the drawer open as in his sleep addled brain he assumed that his phone had fallen in. But it wasn’t his phone.

It was a little purple vibrator.

Aelin kept laughing, still wearing that nightgown that had him thinking all kinds of indecent things. But she looked beautiful, he face lit up by the happiness of her plan working out exactly as she wanted it to.

Rowan whirled on her, his hands bracing either side of her head.

“You think you’re hilarious,” he said, his voice still a bit coarse from sleep.

She looked up at him, her laughter lessening, but her eyes still bright. “I know I’m hilarious.”

Then she smiled at him and the energy between them changed into something else, just like that. Rowan couldn’t help but look at those wicked lips of hers, as they quirked up at the corners so invitingly. The air around them became electric, crackling, just waiting for that spark to set them both on fire. Aelin must have felt it too because her eyes darted his lips and then back to his eyes, a challenge there.

“See something you like, Fireman Whitethorn?” Aelin asked him the same question she had the night he first burst through her door.

He did, he really did. Just like he had that first night.

Rowan’s eyes slid down back to her lips, lingering there. In his mind he heard those last few strands of his self control snap. Then he was leaning into Aelin, a soft gasp slipping through those beautiful lips at the contact. He lent down, their lips so close he could almost taste her...

A loud banging on the door had him pushing away from her, the shock of the interruption killing the mood. The knock sounded again and Aelin’s face told him she was pissed off and was ready to rip the intruder to shreds.

“Coming!” She yelled then disappeared into her bedroom for a moment.

When she came back out she was tying a robe around herself. She angrily pulled the lock from its place a flung the door open.

There, in the doorway was their landlord, his unnervingly grey eyes taking in the scene before him.

Then he drawled, “I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

~~~~~

K guys. I need you to not hate me and trust me. *on my knees* Please? I love you.

Tags: @tangledraysofsunshine // @nalgenewhore // @highqueenofelfhame // @galyxsy // @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @http-itsrebecca // @highladyofthesith // @aelinfire-bringer // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @sleep-and-books // @3am-reading // @average-girl-at-best // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @rowaelinforeverworld // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @tswaney17 // @mydarlingfireheart // @rowansfirebringer // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @vanilla2806 // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @enquires-state-building // @im-not-rare-im-rarr // @your-high-lady // @mariamuses // @ttakeitbacknoww // @vi0let-femmes // @kindofawalkingpoem // @sleeping-and-books // @armixers-unite // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @princess-galathynius // @heroesofterrasen // @ladyofstoriesandmusic // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @empire-of-wildfire // @brittneym15 // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @mybbyfeyre // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @pilesofriles // @chemicha // @keshavomit // @sarahbringsoutmygay13 // @wifeofchrishemsworth // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @illyrian-velaris // @flowerspringsea // @whitethorn15 // @whiskeybusiness1776 // @notaddictedtoanything // @thereaderandfangirl

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breezeinmonochromenight · 5 years ago

Text

I was challenged to rewrite this prompt into something a little more serious/fleshed out with a few inputs from a friend:

Note 1: Why am I still here? Just to [make myself] suffer?

Note 2: This was supposed to go up the day before yesterday, but every time I get Metal Gear asks I just [vibrates uncontrollably and writes an essay]. So, sorry ‘bout that to the anon asking.

Note 3: Higgs is unapologetically on his full creep shit in this. So. Consider that fair warning.

—

Of course she’d get caught wandering through Homo Demens’ territory on her way to deliver a fucking pizza. That alone was bad enough luck for a lifetime. But, in an even more unfortunate turn of events, of course one of those terrorists just had to be the same guy that just couldn’t leave her alone on these god-forsaken deliveries to the middle of nowhere.

The Man in the Gold Mask that she’d had multiple run ins with wasn’t just ‘one of them’, either. Oh, no. She could never be that lucky. Of course he just had to be the leader of the fucking pack, to boot. The entire situation would have made her laugh hysterically, the cosmic irony of it all proving too much for her already fraying sanity, had the business end of a rifle not currently been digging into her temple with the slightest shift in movement.

Unsurprisingly, the ter — she couldn’t bring herself to even think the word, because thinking it confirmed that she’d been fraternizing with a monster — Higgs liked to bloviate in front of his lackeys just as much as he did around her. She could only count the seconds passing by; could practically feel her delivery getting colder through its packaging. She hadn’t been paid for this delivery, and yet, she could feel it being snatched from her hands with each lost moment. Her thoughts inadvertently had her jaw clenching, brows furrowing into a glare at no one in particular. The anger at her current situation and grief over the unfortunate nature of Higgs’ real identity caused a roiling her gut so intense, so immediate and all-consuming, that she found herself half tempted to nudge her guard and see if she couldn’t take an early exit out of the situation.

No pay meant no resources, and no resources meant, well... she refused to be in a ‘no resources’ situation ever again.

She wasn’t the same dirty, starving little lost girl any more. Wouldn’t be. Couldn’t be.

(And though she’d never admit it, she’d grown accustomed to his sudden appearances and self-insertion into her life. He was a random variable that interrupted the stagnancy of her days.)

(He was almost delicate with her when the rest of the world had not been.)

(He was a... friend, reluctant as she was to admit it, and now that had been taken away.)

(She was so tired of things always being taken away from her.)

—

“...Darlin’, I don’t much care for the look you’re giving me or my... associates.” Higgs’ drawl was lazy, almost bored in tone as he came to a stop in front of her.

Hearing that pet name finally interrupted her brooding.

She blinked, fully snapping back to reality when she felt sting of the the rifle muzzle pointed at her digging its way into her temple a little more. Wincing at the resulting thin line of blood trickling down the side of her face from the new cut and the gravel digging into her knees, she flicked her eyes up to meet his expectant gaze as lowered himself to a crouch, their eye contact never breaking.

Well, shit. This was bad.

Had Higgs been speaking to her directly?

Whoops.

“Whatever.”* It was entirely dismissive in tone, but she was spiraling quickly, and couldn’t bring herself to care. If this was how she was going to die, she might as well show some backbone and die with a little dignity. Go ahead and get it over with. “Maybe I really don’t like assholes like you holding me up.”

Was it a stupid thing to say in her position? Absolutely. But what else was there to do? Apologize for wallowing in her own misery and zoning out? Beg for her life?

Yeah, no.

Fuck that.

Her life really wasn’t worth much, anyway.

—

Higgs sneered through his masks at her, hidden face beginning to lose its composure at a rapid rate. It was taking everything in his power to maintain his even facade toward her before removing the physical masks he hid himself behind, especially when he’d noticed in the porter’s eyes that she’d drifted off to a place very far from her current reality.

It felt like a dismissal. Made him feel powerless, like he had for so many nights with his da— when he was a child. And that had infuriated him, especially coming from the one person he couldn’t take his mind off of; that he kept finding his way back to.

Why this reckless little porter got under his skin so easily, he didn’t quite know.

But she did, whether she meant to or not. And the hold she had on him was powerful — so much so, that he could often physically feel her emotions as she was experiencing them. Rarely were they positive, but they served as an easy guide back to her, wherever she may be.

That was why, not long ago, when an incredibly pleasant, persistent tingle down his spine had nearly doubled him over with arousal, this so-called ‘connection’ of theirs had gotten infinitely more irritating to him.

Investigation led him to her private room at Mountain Knot City and, more importantly, to the sight of her being far less mouthy than she’d ever been with him toward some fucking no-name porter... One that she was currently riding late into the night, so desperate in chasing her release that she didn’t notice — or perhaps, worse, didn’t care — that he’d decided to pay her a visit.

Heh. Higgs supposed, in retrospect, that he shouldn’t go there. It was rude to speak ill of the dead, after all. That, and the poor fuck’s corpse had effectively wiped out Bridges Corpse Disposal. So, realistically, he shouldn’t be too angry.

(Except he was. He was still absolutely fucking seething.)

(If only she hadn’t looked so goddamned enticing with her skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat in the low lights; hair partially shielding her face and biting her lip to hold back the noises of pleasure-pain and her pleas to a god he was sure she didn’t believe in.)

(If only the way she looked with her toes curled and back arched skyward hadn’t effectively rooted him to the spot, unable to look away from the sight of her strong thighs trembling and parting just enough that he could see a tiny, heart-shaped birthmark sitting high on the inside of one of them.)

(If only the thought of claiming that little heart with his teeth before he buried his face in-between her thighs hadn’t left him so painfully, achingly hard that he’d had to bite down on a gloved knuckle to keep from howling as he spilled into his hand later that night. An ultimately useless act, given the perfect visual he now had of how she’d look riding his cock, controlling the pace of her hips until he was finally ready to let her tip over the edge — an image that had him rutting into his hand again in record time.)

(If only, if only, if only. If not for so many if only’s, he’d have killed her ‘acquaintance’ in the act that night.)

Logically, he should have killed her, used her body for a voidout long before now. Forgotten her name and everything about her. She knew his face now, after all, and the last thing he needed were witnesses.

But he couldn’t. There was something about her he couldn’t let go of. Something that made him want to completely devour her, mind, body, and soul. Something about her defiance toward everyone and everything despite being dealt a shit hand that made him see a bit of himself in her.

Still, even though he had no intentions of killing her, he couldn’t let mouthing off go completely in front of his men.

“A word of advice, darlin’?” Higgs gripped her chin hard as he spoke, forcing her to look him in the eye as he ran a gloved thumb over her full bottom lip.

She refused to say anything or to shy away as Higgs tugged his masks off with his free hand, dark eyes catching his blue ones and staring him down fiercely. He kept their little contest going for an extended moment, amused, before leaning in close to her ear, positively delighted at the small shiver he sent through her body.

“Trigger fingers can slip. So might want to work on on keeping that mouth of yours shut, quickly,” Higgs growled out, casual drawl giving way to something much darker, before jerking her head away from him. He was pleased at the further surprised widening of her eyes in response. Flicking his tongue out, he dragged it down a in wide stripe on her cheek, the coppery tang of her blood welcome on his tongue. “...because I’d just hate to see this gentleman put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours.”

He lingered for a few seconds longer, too close to her graceful neck and that remarkably smooth looking skin of hers. She smelled good, sweet, even— faintly of soap and something else he couldn’t identify.

Funny, given her sour personality.

Still, despite his efforts at unnerving the porter, nothing even close to fear was registering on her face — only a look of shock and revulsion, maybe even annoyance with him. “What the f— Look, man, I’m not interested in your business. I just wanted to pass through to deliver a fucking pizza. But I’ll shoot myself it’ll make you just stop. fucking. talking.”

He barked out a genuine, surprised laugh at the unexpected, honest response. He certainly could do that, but given the look in her eyes and the way jaw was set, he knew it wasn’t an act — she’d actually do it.

And that’d be no fun for either of them. She was even more feisty than he’d originally thought. Confusing. Interesting.

And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see more.

“Bring her back to my tent and let her get cleaned up, but don’t let her leave,” he ordered her guard her guard before turning his attention back to her. “The pizza girl here and yours truly are going to have a nice n’ friendly little chat about everything that’s happened here today.” He smirked at her near-instant change of expression from completely stone-faced to puffing out lightly freckled cheeks in anger, ready to hurl expletives at him.

Yeah.

Yeah, she was definitely a keeper.

(He was internally mourning the loss of a perfectly good pizza the whole time, of course, but its delivery girl was just too appetizing in her own right not to entertain for a little while.)

(He’d just have to make another order and make it more than worth her while to deliver it. An offer she couldn’t refuse, if he recalled the quote from the old pre-Stranding movie correctly.)

(Cold pizza was for the dogs, after all.)

#higgs thirst tag #higgs x pizza girl #pizza girl x higgs #higgs x reader #higgs x ofc #higgs x oc #higgs #higgs monaghan #death stranding higgs #pizza girl #pizza girl saga #death stranding #norman reedus and the funky fetus #not sfw #writing prompts

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