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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

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Affliction II. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

warnings: general yan stuff, mentions of previous abusive relationships, isolation and self deprecation. word count: 3k. link to the previous part.

There aren’t many places left where you feel comfortable enough to be yourself.

Not an identity that was painstakingly crafted for the sake of self preservation, but your genuine self. Here in the midst of Giorno’s grandiose flower gardens, you’re given the scant opportunity. Whether it be paranoia, or if it holds some ground in reality, there’s a possibility that guards are watching over you from afar. Lost in the thickets of nature, even if you’re being fenced in against your will, is preferable to the suffocating walls of the mansion. There isn’t a lot you’re willing to praise Giorno about, but his taste in flora is breathtaking. Palettes of complementing colors mesh together in a wide array of nature, stepping into it like entering a new world.

This particular section is your favorite. Azaleas are in full bloom around you, the sweet scent wafting to your nose. Stone garden benches, slightly aged by weather and covered in moss, make for a nice spot to collect yourself. This time of day, a sizable tree provides shade from the oppressive Neapolitan sun. Taking in a deep breath, you consider what to do for the reminder of the day. There isn’t much in the ways of entertainment, not in the sense you’d grown used to. No using the internet, or interacting with anyone that isn’t Giorno, aside from rare exceptions when you need food. Some of your hobbies are provided for, but the inspiration to partake in them when in captivity is dwindling at best, nonexistent at worst.

You’ve had plenty of time to mope around the long, seemingly abandoned halls that make up your prison. After nights of incessant tears and sighing, you’ve made up your mind to make the most of the dreadful situation. Biding your time for a possibility of escape is all that can be done. Walking around the gardens almost felt like a form of reconnaissance at first, scoping the foreign territory in hopes of locating a weakness. Frustrating hour after hour would pass, no convenient cracks in the wall or fencing making itself known. Of course he wouldn’t make it that easy, not after all the apparent effort that went into kidnapping you.

The sun is beginning to set in the sky, the lengthier days of summer beginning a downwards trend as September soon approaches. You frown at the sight of clouds bathed in rays of golden light, knowing what unique horrors night time brings with it. During the day you get to be on your lonesome, making as much space between you and Giorno as possible. While there are some fortunate nights where he’s too engrossed with work matters to seek you out, Lady Luck hasn’t been on your side lately. He’s been woefully insistent on spending dinner with you, wanting to form a bond that you hold no interest in. You’d sooner seek out the company of a snail than Giorno Giovanna.

When the crickets begin their anthems, the moon hanging high overhead, your freedom is restricted even more. The heavy weight of this realization pushes against your chest, a fresh wave of chills running through you. Anxiety is a finicky creature, making itself known at the worst times. Having a choke hold on you at its own leisure, preventing you from making any meaningful progress. It’s been somewhere around a few months now, you believe, since the encounter that changed your life for the worst.

Shaking your low hanging head at the thought, you occupy yourself with the parchment sitting on your lap. It’s coarse against your skin, a much needed anchor to keep yourself from drifting away from this world. That’s right, you’ve come here for a reason. You’ve had this blank piece of paper, that has beckoned you to fill it for some time now. The problem being, the lack of proper equipment to use on it. Some pieces of charcoal that you found earlier after lunch sprang hope anew, the tool familiar in the best of ways. Holding with it fond memories, a desirable distraction from your bleak outlook on life.

The guards that take care in shadowing you didn’t protest when you took it, so you assume it must be allowed. Bringing the dark instrument down to the parchment, you begin a rough sketch of an azalea plant in front of you. As you make the various shapes that define the flower, time almost seems to speed up around you. Before you register it, the sun has almost finished its descent into the sky, your hands fully covered in residue from handling the charcoal. Too absorbed in perfecting your work, you fail to notice approaching footsteps from behind.

“--[First].”

A surprised gasp leaves your lips at the unexpected greeting, your head whipping around to identify the source of the intrusive noise. Panic bubbles within at the sight of Giorno, who is taking a keen interest in what you are working on. From how at ease he looks, it’s difficult to gauge his thoughts. His visage never offers insight to his mind, always schooled and taciturn. He must be awaiting a response from you, but your mind is a state of panic. This activity isn’t something that’ll get you in trouble, is it? Subconsciously, you move the canvas to the side, your fingers wrapping around the edges uncomfortably.

You need to say something, but the words die in your mouth before coming to life. Pushing through your storm of dread, you offer a response. “I… I’m sorry, if I wasn’t supposed to.”

Turquoise eyes regard you in kind, taking a seat next to you on the bench. He’s generous enough to leave a respectable gap, but is still too close for comfort. From how his lips are turned into a soft smile, you want nothing more than to believe you won’t be chastised for this innocent indulgence. Spending time in Giorno’s presence is akin to navigating through a minefield, never certain what step may end up being your last. All of the promises he offers feel unfounded, the sickly sweet assurances of never harming a hair on your head. Why should you believe him? He’s given you no reason to take his word as concrete, and you can’t see that ever changing.

You remember the scent of blood. The nauseating sound of bones crunching, how flesh sounds when thrown against a wall. How when approaching death, the eyes grew bloodshot, lips trembling as they took on a haunting shade of blue. It’s the stuff of nightmares, watching a life snuffed out right before you. Matteo, someone who had been your companion, was gone before you could even process it. The strain on your relationship with him is unforgettable, but having to see his body tossed aside by a ghostly force? Witnessing how limp his limbs were, the same arms that once sought refuge in long ago?

You’ll never forget the devil Giorno is, no matter how much he paints himself as a saint.

“I had no idea you were interested in art,” he chooses to ignore your previous comment, wanting to redirect onto more positive things. “You have a real talent for it. Had I known, I would’ve prepared a wider array of art supplies for you.”

The compliment has the opposite effect as intended on your person. Instead of filling you with validation at the wholehearted praise, the words ooze down your skin like droplets of corrosive venom. A sudden disconnect between your creation is torn, and you can no longer stomach to look at it. How an object of beauty can turn into a reminder of your captor in a few measly seconds is a peculiar thing. When he leaves for work the next morning, you consider the possibility of destroying it all together. A last ditch effort to rid yourself of this revolting feeling that creeps down your spine.

“Please, don’t trouble yourself.”

There are multiple ways of interpreting your words, ranging from a dismissal of Giorno’s presence to humility. He spins it in his favor, as he’s showcased his brilliance in doing so. Your lack of straightforward animosity towards him serves to backfire every time.

“It’d be no trouble. Truth be told, I’m lacking an in-depth knowledge of the arts. What kind of equipment would suit you best?” Giorno inquires with a tilt of his head, his eyes leaving the impression that he can see the full dimensions of your soul. Ignoring him isn’t going to be of benefit, so you provide the bare minimum to satisfy his quest.

“It’s… more of a personal preference, what an artist chooses to use.”

He’s not letting you off the hook just yet. “What do you prefer to use?”

“The basics. Pencils, watercolors, the like. Nothing too fancy.”

Giorno looks fascinated at anything you offer him. Even if you only speak when spoken to, it’s a good place to start. Your muscles tense as he leans closer, to get a better look at the drawing of flowers. His eyes scan every stroke, seeing how it all culminates into a grander picture. You move your legs over, internally pleading that he’ll leave you alone soon. Speaking for him with any amount of time, no matter how small, is exhausting.

“Azaleas, correct?”

At this guess, you nod in confirmation.

“Please, should you ever need a reference for flowers, let me know. I’d be more than happy to provide it for you.”

The chance to refuse this offer is fleeting, curiosity taking over at how he reaches for a rock on the ground. Taking it into his hand, he puts it in full view. You blink at the uncanny series of events, wondering why Giorno is putting a simple rock on display. Any semblance of understanding is stolen from you, as the colors twist into a different assortment. The spherical shape shifts into a stem, the bud on top growing light pink petals. He watches with amusement at how you look at it closer, mouth agape.

“W-what?” It’s a weak whisper, betraying the full extent of your awe. How did he pull this off? It isn’t like a cheesy magic trick, where the rock would slide somewhere, only to be replaced by a flower. No, you witnessed the full life cycle of the flower. He chuckles lowly at your childlike wonder, preparing a palpable explanation.

“It’s an ability of mine,” he elaborates, placing the newly former azalea on your lap. “I can make any living thing.”

Is this a dream? To test the theory, you rub your eyes, uncaring of the smudges likely left against your skin. When your eyelids flutter open once more, you’re still in reality. Wanting to inspect the flower closer, you lift it up, close to your eyes. Studying every aspect of it, from how soft the petals are to the firmness of the stem. While not a professional botanist by any means, there’s no denying that this is a real flower.

“Any living thing…”

The words dance on your tongue, parroting his words back to him to make sense of it all. “Does that include animals?”

“Naturally. Is there anything you’d like to see, [First]?” He tempts you with promises of spectacle, fully aware of how bewitching Gold Experience’s ability is. Numerous ideas flood through your mind, possibilities infinite. Thoughts ranging from your own favorite animals, to cute creatures that might improve your mood. While creating bouquets of any flower might be an intriguing prospect, you’re more drawn to seeing animals. The only animals you’ve had contact with in the longest time are occasional frogs that congregate near the running foundations at night. Everything else is reduced to sounds, from owls to cicadas.

It’s when you see Giorno’s knowing smile that something deep inside you stirs.

He’s basking in the lightheartedness you’re exuding. This… this ultimately doesn’t change a thing. Giorno is a terrible man, who has taken so much from you. The hedges surrounding you both suddenly feel suffocating, a merciless reminder of who it is you’re dealing with. Beauty pales in comparison to real freedom. Every day has been the same as the last, an infinite loop of going through the motions, destined to never make progress. All of this has been thrusted onto you by Giorno Giovanna, a man in relentless pursuit of your heart.

None of this is right. Being near him is enough to too much to take.

You hold your tongue, eyebrows furrowing at Giorno bringing out all this conversation from you. It’s humiliating how all your efforts to deny him the desires of his flesh never work as intended, this one of the many times he’s bested you. Now that you’ve spotted his game, you clamp shut like a clam, intent on hiding the pearl of yourself from him. You’re intentional in looking away, the luxury of him maintaining eye contact with you a memory of the past. Sensing the barriers you’re putting up against him, Giorno stands, dusting off his expensive pants. He offers you a nod of acknowledgement, pivoting on his heel and calling out to you over his shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Too absorbed in your self deprecating thoughts and misery, you offer up no response. Footsteps crunching against the vegetation on the ground fade away, your heart pounding violently against your chest. Something wet caresses your face, teardrops falling and smudging your art. Your sniffling grows in volume, becoming a full set of sobs. Hands shaking by your side, you hang your head low, biting your lower lip to the point of drawing blood.

Feeling like a man possessed, you wildly rip away at the canvas that taunts you so. The sound of paper ripping pales in comparison to the natural ambiance of the summer night, and you pay it no mind. All you want is an outlet for this surge of emotion. Any guilt over littering the ground with remnants of your work dissipates when you remember how servants will scurry like insects to clean up after you. For extra measure, you pick up the former rock, glowering at it. Breaking the stem with your hands, you throw it as far as you can manage, not able to stand the sight of all it stands for. None of this even begins to remedy the abhorrence that clogs your heart for Giorno, but it’s a start.

Exhaustion seeps into every pore of your being, and you retire to your room.

- - -

He notices a lot of things about you when you’re asleep.

There’s clear serenity on your countenance, far away from the world of unfortunate reality. Giorno catches every rise and fall of your chest, how delicate your breaths are, the way your long eyelashes flutter against the soft cheeks of your face. When you’re lifted from the depths of deep sleep with a dream, frustration overtakes you, eyelids twitching. He’s inquisitive on the nature of your dreams, that must take the form of nightmares. What is it that haunts you? There’s a twinge in his heart at the possibility of it being him.

The first time you reached out to him in your sleep, he thought it a trick of the lights. A fine delicacy he doesn’t deserve to gratify himself with, as a reminder of his own sins. You’re too good to him when you’re like this, arms subconsciously reaching out for something to grasp on. A few times, you found a pillow, content with it in your arms. In moments like this one, your hands touch the bare flesh of Giorno’s chest, drawing yourself against him. He stays perfectly still, recognizing the humiliation you’d face should you wake. No, this is just fine with him, enough to satisfy a dormant hunger.

He can’t help himself, ghosting his fingertips up and down your bare arms. Goosebumps dot your skin from the motions. It’s a selfish wish, that you’d always be like this around him. Giorno would be a fool to think of himself as anything but self-serving after all he’s taken from you. Your future, freedom, your life. What is possibly an attempt to justify some of the extreme measures arises, Giorno incapable of hiding the scowl of your former situation. Such a kindhearted person, diluted by scum of society, churns his stomach in repulsion. The original plan didn’t include offing your former partner, but righteous fury overtook him. It isn’t often Giorno’s composure can crack, but seeing you belittled was all it took.

All the damage inflicted on you left gaping wounds, too great for Giorno to heal.

He witnessed how radiant you’re capable of being, how your face glowed the first time you met. It’s a fond memory now, a way to placate him. Anything less than honoring the memory of you treating his wounds is a disservice to your person, Giorno incapable of offering nothing but high praises for you. This highlight of humanity, a pinnacle of what people are like at their best, is what motivates his goals further. To see Italy become a better version of itself, eradicating the nefarious plots that fester in the shadows.

You rub your head against his chest, murmuring incoherent words in your sleep. His heart leaps at the endearing sight, wishing he could stay like this with you for eternity. In the midst of his musings, his own Stand materializes into existence, unblinking eyes considering every curve and dip of your body. Gold Experience Requiem wishes you were capable of acknowledging it, having to be content with observing you from afar. It’s a double edged sword. There’s an opportunity to wrap phantom-like appendages around your waist, you only believe it to be a gust of wind. Touch starved as Giorno is, he’s willing to accept any scraps of your touch he has access to.

Tiny pieces are better than nothing.

Tomorrow will bring troubles of its own, yet he can’t find it in himself to complain. Your scrutiny is wholly deserved, and all that he can offer in meager attempts to reconcile is effort. To be better for your sake, and his own.

#giorno #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #yandere giorno #giorno x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #Jojo Part 5 #JJBA #jjba part 5 #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader #my stuff #commissions

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vlindervin7 · 4 years ago

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All I really have to say about this is that, considering the fact that I spend all my time thinking of both druck and the get down, it’s a miracle this didn’t happen sooner. You don’t need to have seen the get down to read this, but I would recommend watching this because it’s pure art. Enjoy

Read on ao3

David closes the door behind them. Matteo doesn’t immediately register what he’s seeing. David hadn’t exactly told him where they were going, just that he had something to show him. This isn’t what Matteo was expecting.

He feels David come to stand next to him, but he can’t take his eyes off what he’s seeing. It’s a room, empty save for the lone mattress in the corner, and a few pots of paint and spray cans scattered all over the floor. And on the walls, from floor to ceiling, there is colour. Matteo immediately recognizes David’s signature art style that he’s been getting increasingly familiar with over the last few months, and it never fails to take his breath away. There’s so much of it, everywhere and Matteo’s eyes don’t know where to stop, each time they find something to take in, they find something else that demands their attention. It’s more colourful, bigger, and louder than most of David’s other art, almost like a living, breathing thing. It’s overwhelming in the very best way.

David shifts next to him and it snaps Matteo back to earth and it occurs to him that he should probably say something. It’s a testament to how overwhelmed he is that all he can find to ask is: ‘What do you do when there’s no more space?’

He looks at David for the first time since they entered and oh, in all his awe he’d momentarily forgotten the most beautiful sight he’s still ever seen is standing right next to him. He’s heard some people say that art is always more interesting than the artist, but Matteo has everything he needs to prove that claim wrong right here.

David breathes out a small laugh, looking a bit relieved to have Matteo responding, even if he’s amused at the direction Matteo’s thoughts have gone. ‘I paint over it.’

‘But then it’s all gone?’

The thought almost hurts, that all the beautiful things he can’t get enough of right now, might one day be gone because David needs to start over, and that he’ll never be able to see the however many layers that exist under this one. But then again, Matteo’s never been good with change.

David shrugs. ‘Sometimes I take pictures, but it’s never really been about that. This is where I come to just feel. It’s not about making something aesthetically pleasing or whatever. I have my sketchbook and other projects for that. This is just where I let off steam.’

And Matteo can sort of see that. There’s no real harmony or continuation between the art on the walls, it’s a mix of colour and figures seemingly placed at random. With a jolt he suddenly recognizes his own face, and that’s a lot, the thought that David comes here to let his feelings do the talking where no one can hear, and he painted Matteo bursting with loud colours.

Matteo reaches out to touch the wall closest to him, a sun or a big flower or maybe a disfigured face. He doesn’t know, but it’s pretty.

‘I’ve never brought anyone here before’, David says, making Matteo turn around. ‘Not even Laura.’

His cheeks are that lovely red colour they are sometimes, and he looks nervous, unsteady on his feet and taking in Matteo’s movements.

Matteo realizes how precious this is, how big of an honour it is to be shown this, essentially David’s soul on display, which is why he really doesn’t know what to say. He’s scared to say something that will ruin this moment that feels so delicate, or worse say something that won’t accurately convey how much this means to him.

He pats his pockets and says a silent thanks to his past self for not returning the bright purple marker he’d borrowed from Mia. David looks at him in question when Matteo steps closer to one of the walls again, but he doesn’t stop him so Matteo keeps going. He finds an unmarked space in between swirls of blue, and in blocky letters, writes down ICH LIEBE DICH, before putting the marker away and turning to face David, self-conscious suddenly. He didn’t even ask. He hopes he hasn’t ruined his one chance to read the book of David’s heart, but no. When he catches David’s eye again, he’s beaming, so wide, and powerful enough to wake the butterflies that have been residing in Matteo’s belly permanently since a few months now. It really hasn’t been that long, no matter how much Matteo feels like he’s known David for years, and saying I love you still feels new, exciting although a familiar warmth has joined that feeling lately, making Matteo think that maybe this doesn’t have to wear an expiration date he hasn’t found yet.

David doesn’t answer, not that he has to, it’s written all over his face and the walls around him. Instead, he bends down to pick up a red spray can. He shake it while coming to stand next to Matteo, an all black apparition contrasting with his bright art, and looks at the wall a moment before spraying, with such ease and comfort that it makes something hot unspool in Matteo’s belly, a bright red heart around Matteo’s words. It’s the sort of cheesy thing David himself would scoff at in movies, but coming from him it feels like the most special gesture in the world.

Matteo feels like he’s going to catch on fire with all the love he’s feeling.

For a moment they just stare at each other, laughing giddily. It reminds Matteo of that first time they hung out, like being a little kid again.

David shakes himself out of it, and picks up a brush this time, before refilling his colour palette. Matteo watches him do it, wondering where this is going, but knowing he won’t mind if it’s not more than David doing his thing and letting Matteo watch, but when he’s done he turns back to Matteo and makes a sweeping gesture over the floor. ‘You’re free to use whatever you want.’

He feels warm at the permission, again feeling the weight of David letting Matteo free in the place that’s most his in the world. He doesn’t immediately take him up on the offer, though, distracted by the flecks of paints that have started appearing on David’s hands, his black shirt. He’d thrown his jacket and beanie in a corner when he entered the space and Matteo wonders if he’ll be careful with the state of his clothes or if he doesn’t care if they get dirty.

He’s still just watching as David applies the brush to one of the blank spaces left, as he smiles without turning around and says, ‘Are you just going to stare at me, ‘cause you might want to get comfortable if that’s the case.’

‘Shut up’, Matteo mumbles, but he’s smiling at the smug tone David’s using.

He doesn’t really know where to start, but he does want to try something. It’s always seemed fun to him to do graffiti, except the whole hiding from the cops thing sounded like too much of a hassle. This seems like something close to it, enough to be fun, even though he has very little artistic talent. It reminds him of doodling in David’s sketchbook, knowing it could never add up, but figuring it might make David smile later, the way he did when he watched him that first time.

In the end he picks up a few spray cans and goes to sit down on the other side of the room where almost the entire lower wall is still a bright white. He shakes one of the cans like he’s seen people do in movies, and David earlier, and tries to vaguely spray the shape of one of the aliens in David’s movie. It’s not as easy it always looks to be, the easy way David had sprayed the perfectly shaped heart earlier. It’s messy and Matteo has trouble enough creating clear shapes as is, the can that feels too big in his hands not making any of that easier. He also didn’t know the paint would drip that heavily when holding the can slightly wrong. He tries his best, but the alien still comes out looking more like a grey green blue coloured blob than anything else. If anything, he gains a deeper appreciation for David’s art.

The paint has dripped all over the floor and his arms and hands.

Even if it was harder than it looks, Matteo was right in thinking it would be fun. He’s gone too long being in the same room as David without having his attention, though, and that’s significantly less fun.

When he pushes himself up and turns around, David has his back turned to him like Matteo didn’t just catch him looking at him, silently laughing before turning away. He’s not even painting anything, just stands there in front of that half-painted forest view, innocently holding the palette in hand.

‘Something funny?’

David slowly turns around, pretentiously holding the palette up with an innocent look on his face. ‘You talking to me?’, he asks.

Matteo pretends to play along, hoping to catch him in the act. “What do you think of my alien?”, he asks, pretending to be genuine.

When David sets eyes on it, he laughs like he can’t help it. At Matteo’s raised eyebrows, he tries to hold it in, and holds up his hands, but he doesn’t entirely manage. ‘It’s… It’s very cute’, he says, morphing his face into a serious expression again.

‘I’ll show you cute’, Matteo exclaims, launching himself at his boyfriend and smearing the paint on his hands all over David’s black shirt, and in the process accidentally knocking the palette over too, so that, now, the front his shirt is stained in a mixture of at least ten different colours.

Some of it’s even gotten on his pants. David gets very quiet for a moment, looking down at his clothes like he’s contemplating getting angry. Suddenly Matteo gets nervous. It had seemed like a good idea in the moment, something close enough to their usual play fighting, but maybe wasting David’s paint and ruining his clothes is taking it a step too far. After all, just because Matteo won’t spend more than five euros on an article of clothing, doesn’t mean David won’t either.

The noise he makes when David grabs a large paint brush and smears it all over Matteo’s face, he decides to blame on the fact that he was worried his boyfriend would suddenly decide to break up with him, and not that he’s a big baby. Once he’s over the shock, he doesn’t hesitate to retaliate, though, and before he knows it, they’re both throwing smearing aiming paint at each other. Matteo’s laughing so hard he feels light, lighter than he’s maybe ever felt before, like every new drop of of paint that lands on his skin lifts him that much closer to unperturbed peace and he can feel it approaching, that happy state of mind where everything else becomes a blur and he’s able to simply give himself over to it and live in this moment with David forever.

After a while, they’re not really battling anymore, instead have joined forces. They’re still using each other as a canvas, but it feels like art this time. The closest Matteo will probably get to making art as he picks out colours to addorn David with, and David does the same to him.

The walls aren’t spared in their outburst, they’re being equally pelted.

At one point, Matteo needs to stop because David, as lost as Matteo is in all of this, is almost dancing in the way he’s still creating beautiful things on these walls, all the while bringing his hands through his hair and messing it up, drawing Matteo close to him just to touch, and smiling through it all, never ceasing to smile. Sometimes he closes his eyes like he wants to soak in the rays of his invisible happiness, but he never stops moving. Matteo hasn’t prayed in a long time, but moving through this room with David, makes him think this is what it’s supposed to feel like.

It makes sense now, what he’d said before, about coming here to feel because that’s what he’s doing. Matteo is this close to seeing the walls he holds around himself when he’s outside this room fall away, can see him come alive in a place in which he feels free. Freedom found in between these four walls. It should seem like a contradiction, but it’s not really. What both David and Matteo have in common, is that burning desire for a home, a place to simply exist as they are without the weight of the entire world’s gaze on their back, where they get to be part of something bigger without having to explain.

That’s this room.

There’s a moment David opens his arms wide like he’s standing in a sudden downpour and all Matteo sees is that bird he’d shown him when they’d just met, finally taking flight.

He’s so full of light it feels like it should be dangerous to look at him directly, something that’s too bright to be observed by the naked eye, and a few months ago Matteo would’ve looked away in fear of catching on fire and having the whole world see him burn, but he’s not anymore. He’s so in love it feels like diving headfirst off a cliff, but he’s not afraid. Let the world watch as he falls and then, right when they’re all holding their breath watching him pummel to his death, take flight and surpass them all.

They end up making out on the mattress, and Matteo loses his shirt but he can’t remember how it happened. All he can think of is David and his all-encompassing need to feel him against him. He shivers and is about to start whining when David gets up for a moment, but then he’s back, straddling him this time. He brings the tip of a paint brush to his shoulder and traces all over his collarbones and neck before reaching the other one. Then he picks out another colour and starts tracing figures on his stomach, arms, ribs, chest, waist. The paint is cold against his skin and it makes him shiver, but David is holding him down gently with one hand, and looking at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen, and really he’s mostly shivering with the weight of David on top of him and what it’s doing to his body. There’s nothing except David that could make him move right now.

When David is satisfied with his work, he puts the paintbrush aside and lets his eyes sit heavy on Matteo’s bare skin, flicking up and down to his face, from his stomach, looking so serious like Matteo’s the piece of art he’s been working on for years, his magnum opus.

Then, after Matteo is this close to making a sound because the undivided attention is on the verge of being too much, David bends over and then they’re kissing again. Less hurried, less frantic than before, but soft like the gentle music that plays at the end of an action-packed movie when the heroes finally find the peace they’ve been fighting for. That moment after an impossibly high note when the audience is silent for fear of breaking the magic, right before the star receives all the applause they deserve.

It doesn’t last as long this time, a mutual declaration of trust. David settles his head on Matteo’s shoulder and they just breathe in the wake of all the beautiful chaos the room has had to endure. The toxic smell of the paint hangs heavy in the air, but Matteo feels like he’s never properly breathed until this very moment.

When he deems it safe to speak, he says what’s been on his mind ever since he walked into the room. ‘There’s so much colour.’

Compared to David’s sketches and the art he posts online and the one he hangs on his wall, this room is so bright. Matteo wonders if it’s because David thinks he can’t afford to show his inner colours to the world for fear of having them tainted or if it’s something else.

David must understand why Matteo decides to comment on that because he makes a small humming noise Matteo feels more than hears, before slightly turning his head so his mouth is free. ‘I’ve been really happy lately.’

They fall asleep right there, until hours later when they’ll have to face the outside world again. For now, they don’t think of what’s to come, though, too busy living in their homemade dreamscape.

#druck #davenzi #the get down #bc i can #my writing

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theyellowcurtains · 5 years ago

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i had some thoughts about how Matteo would be if he had a footballer boyfriend David and really it’s just,, a lot of him being horny and into football shorts in almost a religious sort of way

– Jonas drags matteo to the first game he sees. what do i get out of it? Matteo had asked, wanting an out uuuh, cute boys in little shorts? come on, you don’t even really need to pay attention i just don’t wanna be the looser on my own Jonas had whinged at him. Matteo hated that his best friend knew he really would only come for how many great asses there were to oogle.

– that’s how Matteo ends up sitting in the front row of a freezing football stand on their school yard with Jonas sitting next to him nearly bouncing out of his seat with excitement for the game. apparently their school had a really good chance of winning this game and making it to the finals. Matteo still didn’t care, he just wants to see the boys who are playing maybe get some more memories for his wank bank. as soon as the players walk out he instantly get infatuated by one of the boys on the field.

– the back of his jersey said “SCHREIBNER” and “9” in big black letters over a blue and white jersey. his tan skin really stands out against it and Matteo can’t help but let his eyes trail down his legs up again to his face. he genuinely might be one of the most attractive boys that Matteo has ever seen or thought of in his life. oh i see you’ve found David Jonas smirks and elbows Matteo in the side. Matteo rolls his eyes but then pushes him off. His eyes don’t stop following David for the entire game.

– a week later Jonas invites him to another game and Matteo more than enthusiastically agrees. Jonas makes fun of him the entire time. you’re drooling bro he says when Matteo sees David walk out onto the field and bend over to touch his toes. Matteo shoves him, but again watches David for the entire game. at the end of the match David walks over to the sideline, catching eyes with Matteo and winking with the biggest grin. Matteo honestly squeaks and doesn’t stop thinking about that wink for days.

– David approaches Matteo on the thursday of the next week. are you doing anything this friday? he asks leaning against the locker next to Matteo’s. don’t you have a game? Matteo asks stupidly. oh so you’ve been paying attention to me David teases. Matteo walks away from that conversation with David’s number in his phone and a time and place for where he’s supposed to meet up with him the next night.

– Matteo is almost late to their date, only just getting there before the time switches to a minute past 17. David is standing leaning against the railing smiling like the sun at him and Matteo melts. they walk around for a bit and David buys him a kebab. they spend most of the night talking and laughing and Matteo is definitely swooning over him like nothing else. David walks him home and holds his hand the entire way. walks him up the stairs and then kisses him in front of his door. Matteo wants to invite him in but doesn't. he just pulls David in for another kiss this time making it deeper and tangling his fingers in his hair.

– Matteo wakes up to a goodmorning text from David sent at 7.30 on a saturday morning. he replies saying ah shit maybe i’ve made the wrong choice to date you if you’re that much of a morning person at 10.30. David sends a smiley face then they spend the day texting.

– their next date David comes out as trans. at the time Matteo shrugs it off but then he goes home and googles it for a few hours. he texts David a thank you for trusting me. see you tomorrow? David replies with an of course, meet me a the field? I think i need to kiss you.

– Matteo starts coming to more games purely to watch his boyfriend play. He always spends the entire games watching him. Jonas comes with him every time and makes fun of Matteo for pining over the star player like everyone else, little does Jonas know that Matteo’s also sleeping with the star player and has explicit permission to thirst over him during the games. Jonas starts planning a way to get them together and Matteo almost wants to buy into it but last minute has to tell him that they’re already together when David takes his shirt off after one of the games and Matteo loses any ability to form words and David looks at him to wink and grin stupid wide.

– After that Jonas’s teasing just gets worse. he starts doing it even when they’re just around school and he catches Matteo’s eyes following David. unfortunately he’s even there when Matteo opens his locker to there being a “SCHREIBNER” jersey shoved in there. he quickly slams his locker back shut hoping Jonas didn’t see it but of course he did. ooooh what did your mans leave for you? he opens it and pulls out the jersey. awwwh wow you know you’ve got to wear that to the game tonight? all of the players partners wear theirs. Jonas shoves it in his hands and walks away.

– did you find my gift? David asks when they meet up that afternoon before David has to go off and prepare. yes, I did. Matteo looks down to where he’s playing with David’s fingers. are you gonna wear it for me tonight? David asks, putting his finger under Matteo’s chin to make him look at him. I don’t know, would you want me to do that? Matteo asks. I mean, yeah that is why I gave it to you silly.

– Matteo ends up wearing it. He’s not sure he’s ever felt better wearing something in his life even though no one can see the back of it under his brown jacket, it’s still nice knowing he could take it off and show to everyone that he’s David’s.

– Matteo starts also coming to practices to see his boyfriend in those stupidly little shorts more. Matteo also tries to convince David to wear them when they’re at his flat but he refuses. Jonas makes fun of Matteo for still not knowing anything about football but still coming to the games. okay but why can’t they just pick up the balls and run Matteo asks one time. they’re not allowed to use their hands Matteo Jonas rolls his eyes homophobia. if they can’t pick it up how am I supposed to get a good view of my boyfriends ass Matteo whines. at the end of the game though David does bend over to tie his shoe and Matteo nearly falls out of his chair because it felt definitely very intentional and definitely for him.

– David often calls Matteo out on not even caring about his sport and only wanting to go to get to check him out. Matteo can’t deny it so he just shrugs at him I can’t help that my boyfriend is ridiculously hot and plays a sport where it’s easy to stare at him. David just rolls his eyes and kisses Matteo.

– Matteo doesn’t wear David’s jersey to games. He did it a couple times but started to forget not that David minded. Most people knew they were together and inseparable so it’s not really like he had to wear his last name to show that off. There’s one day he accidentally wears the jersey to school when it’s still warm and he has forgotten about laundry and it’s just the first thing he pulls on. People stare and David teases him for it but also tells him it’s incredibly cute he wanted to wear it just to a regular school day.

– Matteo is extra extra extra horny for his hot jock boyfriend and every little thing he does is attractive to him but he desperately loves how strong he is. loves that he can just pick him up and carry him around if he wants to but also really loves how he’s just so buff. Matteo thirsts over him a lot and often just wanting time to look at David whenever he can for as long as possible. whenever they get time alone Matteo’s trying to get in his pants and David thinks it’s hilarious how much Matteo always wants him.

– David knows how much Matteo enjoys him in his footie uniform and one day he lets it slip that he still has an old set that’s somehow even smaller on him and he can see the images that are flashing through Matteo’s mind. he stores Matteo’s reaction in the back of his mind and pulls out those old shorts on Matteo’s birthday, letting him look and touch for as long as he wants to which admittedly is a lot less time than David expected.

– Matteo’s contact in this David’s phone is number two fan, only after jonas who forced him to watch me play for a week before Matteo finds out and forces him to change it.

#davenzi #david schreibner #matteo florenzi #david and his bottom #matteo x david #@home #druck #footballer!david and matteo 'horny' florenzi #that's their tag #mine #druck fic #fic #my fic

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hjertetssunnegalskap1 · 5 years ago

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I love your fics so much. Could you maybe do number 5 from the drabble challenge for davenzi? 💕

Hi! Thank you for your kind words!! 💕And yes, I can. I’m not sure this is what you expected, but it’s what my mind ended up with.

I should warn that there are some vague/ non-graphic sexy times towards the end of this drabble/ ficlet thing.

Btw you can also read it here, on AO3.

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“Do you want to dance?”

“You really wanna dance, Matteo?” David asks, eyebrow raised. Matteo has never struck him as a guy who likes to shake it on the dance floor. Matteo mostly has this ‘hot and sulky pothead’-look going on.

Matteo shrugs and looks at David from under his unruly hair. “We’re at a club. That’s what people do here.”

David takes a sip from his drink, and tries to think. It’s hard to think with Matteo’s blue eyes fixed on him. “Right. So that’s why you’re here, then?”

“I’m not here to make friends,” Matteo deadpans. ”Yeah, I’m here to dance. And if I’m lucky, uhm, flirt a little.”

“Flirt, huh?” David repeats. He can’t help that Matteo’s words make something tingle inside, something he has squashed down for a long time.

Shit, and he almost didn’t come tonight. David mostly prefers more quiet settings than clubs like this. He doesn’t mind being social, but preferably in small doses. Most days when his friends are partying, he’ll rather stay in the calm of his home.

Not tonight, though.

David loves to dance, after all. He loves it when the music fills him up and he gets to shake loose. And Matteo… He had hoped to see Matteo tonight, he must admit it.

The thought of dancing with him makes David’s heart flutter. It’s just that the two of them has a kinda strained relationship. Awkward, in many ways. It has been like that for years, since back when they almost happened but never really happened (since David chickened out).

Matteo doesn’t quite answer his question.

“Isn’t dancing and flirting a way to make friends?” David asks, teasing a little.

“Depends on what it leads to,” Matteo answers, locking him with his blue gaze. Then he downs his drink. He looks strangely determined.

A sly smile spreads across David’s face, his eyes tracking the curve of Matteo’s neck as he tilts his head back, and then moving slowly up and down Matteo’s body in appreciation. “Well, Matteo, when you put it that way, I can’t really say no.”

Matteo shines up in a happy smile that just seems so genuinely sweet, that unexpected warmth rushes through David. “Cool.” Matteo stretches out his hand, “Shall we?”

David nods, a sudden bite of anxiety crawling over his skin even as he puts on a brave face, and stands up from the table, taking Matteo’s hand as he leads them out onto the crowded dance floor. Is he really doing this? Dancing with Matteo? Dancing with the crush he’s tried to forget for years?

It seems like he is doing just that. Fuck.

The dance floor is full of people, and the music plays over the dance floor as if it has fused with the bodies. David’s heart is pounding to the beat of the bass as music blasts through the club. Matteo’s hand is warm in his grasp.

Once they’re on the dance floor, the tension eases out of David, and he suddenly feels at home. He carves a path through the hoard of people until they are at the center of the dance floor. Then he places Matteo’s hands low on his hips, curving his own arms around Matteo’s back until they rest just above Matteo’s bum.

“Nervous, Mister Florenzi?”

Matteo swallows roughly as he gazes into David’s eyes.

David notices just how beautiful Matteo looks in the low lighting of the club, the shadows making the curve of his jaw stand out, his lips drawing David in like a moth to a flame.

He leans in, eyes falling closed as their lips barely brush against one another, and that’s when Matteo whispers, “You seem pretty anxious yourself, Mister Schreibner.” Matteo lets out a low chuckle, one that sends a fiery shiver down the knots of David’s spine.

And it’s such a silly thing. But David didn’t realize that Matteo knew his full name. It’s not so strange, really, they’re in the same friend group, of course, but it still surprises him enough that he doesn’t know how to answer.

They dance instead, and beneath the dry-ice smoke swirls an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks, and gold. Matteo dances like no-one is watching; like he just doesn’t care. David doesn’t care, either, and he follows Matteo’s movements as he boogies to the rave. David loves how Matteo moves. The pair of them spends the next hour grinding into one another on the dance floor, bodies fitting into one another perfectly, each space filled by the other. They’re all grins, they probably look like idiots and they don’t care.

David feels the part of him that’s really him come out to play, to feel the vibe of the music and let his body go free. One moment, one brilliant feeling of togetherness suspended in time. David loves the quiet life but he relishes the wild fun times. Each brush of their bodies against each other, and skim of hands beneath the waist of trousers, sends electricity skittering out over David’s skin, a fire growing larger with every touch.

“Is this what you wanted?” David asks, breathing out unsteadily, not sure if he’s exhilarated or terrified by feeling Matteo so close. He curls a tongue over the shell of Matteo’s ear and making Matteo’s neck arch back

“Yeah,” Matteo speaks into David’s neck. He reaches back to run his hands over David’s body as they press against each other. David pulls him close, letting the music blasting through the room guide his body.

David’s hands move up, tracing over Matteo’s neck until they cup his chin, fingers running delicately over Matteo’s soft lips.

“Kiss me?” David asks, his warm breath ghosting over Matteo’s lips.

Matteo does.

His lips are warm, and soft, and David feels the kiss deep in his bones, the sensation echoing through his body like a prayer.

Damn, he has wanted this for so long…

They dance, and they kiss, and David wants it to last forever. A small maybe starts to grow inside. Maybe they still can happen? If nothing else, they might at least have a flirt?

At the end of the night, they burst through the doors out into the fresh air and the golden street-lamps, staggering, failing to hail a taxi. In the almost-dawn they arrive at David’s apartment and fall into bed; kissing and groping each other but falling asleep before they have time to get frisky.

In the morning, David wakes up with Matteo next to him, and he can’t quite believe it.

“I don’t really dance that much,” Matteo mutters, buried in his pillow. “but dancing with you was damn hot.”

“Yeah, it was,” David agrees. He looks at Matteo, and part of him is surprised that he’s still here, and that he hasn’t run away already. Like he ran, all those years ago. David knows that he was scared back then, and that was why he withdrew. He guesses this is recovery, when he can see the people who are good people, and helping, and ask them to come closer, or staying quiet when the urges to push them away returns.

David reaches for Matteo, and pulls him closer. As Matteo lies over him, all David sees is his face, the ceiling above and the morning light from the window. Their breaths rise in visible puffs and though there is a soft breeze from the window, they are warm with one another. It’s probably too early in the morning for this; they both have morning breaths, and they’re still sticky with sweat from dancing, but David doesn’t care and neither does Matteo, he’s sure of that. They’ve waited long enough.

In the half-lit room, their fingers caress each other’s skin as if afraid a heavier touch would break the heady magic. They become one, one mind with one goal and purpose. David is utterly drunk with love for Matteo, and hopes Matteo feels the same.

Touching Matteo is like his heart is mended even though he never knew it was broken. Matteo’s the only man on earth for David, the only one who can breathe fire into him when he’s cold.

They go achingly slow, touching and teasing each other until David feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin. David has wanted this for so long, craved Matteo’s body, his tongue tasting his breath. They are both caught up in the moment, it’s like they’ve always been this close, like they never left each other alone. David feels for Matteo, Matteo reaches for him, pulls him up, they twist and turn and chase their pleasure.

“Please, David,” Matteo mutters, and David gives Matteo what he needs, just like Matteo gives everything to him.

Their bodies move in unison, so much heat building between them until David feels like he can melt into the bed. Matteo comes, groaning David’s name and clinging onto him. When David follows, it’s like a hot wave rushing through him from the tips of his ears down to the curl of his toes, body burning with pleasure as he groans out, hips still moving against Matteo’s.

Afterwards, David holds Matteo in his arms, fighting how his eyelids are growing heavy and his limbs are molding into the sheets. “You really weren’t there to make friends, huh,” he mutters against Matteo’s skin.

“Mm. I have all the friends I need,” Matteo smiles. “And now I have you, too.”

David scoffs, feeling something old stir inside. “I’m my own, you know.”

“Yeah, I know that, don’t worry,” Matteo grins.

They look at each other, and David pauses. “What made you ask me to dance?” he asks. “You seemed so determined.”

A soft blush grows in Matteo’s cheeks. “I just think I reached this point where I needed to know. I mean, if you wanted to dance with me, or not.”

David smiles. “Are we still talking about dancing, or something else?”

Matteo laughs. “I don’t know, are we?”

“I just know that I’ll always dance with you,” David sighs.

“Good.”

David hugs Matteo tighter, knowing deep down that a love like this is to be cherished for life. In Matteo’s embrace, the world is silent and there’s no time, no hassle. David’s mind is at peace. How has he not seen Matteo’s love for what it is before? Free. Undemanding. David feels his body press in, soft and warm. This is the love he’s waited for, and whatever comes next, they’ll figure it out when it comes.

#druck #davenzi #drabble #not really a drabble - I guess it's a ficlet #the drabble challenge #writing prompts #friends to lovers AU #dancing at the club #canon divergence #Anonymous

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rainingincale · 6 years ago

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rules:

always repost the rules

answer the questions given to you by the one who tagged you!

give 11 questions

tag 11 people

I was tagged by the lovely @davidfors5 thank you so much 😭 😭 😭

1. fave character from each remake and why?

Skam Austin: Poonam Para. I know that she’s a side character and honestly i was close to saying Jo, Kelsey or Shay but she’s my fav. I think i just see a lot of myself in her and i like how she’s a completely new and different character. She’s funny and upfront and unique and I feel extremely understood and I hope we get to see more of her.

Skam France: Imane Bakhellal. Again i was really close to saying Yann or Lucas but i think just purely because of how much i can relate to Imane and understand her she’s my fav.

Druck: David Schreibner. While i definitely relate to Matteo the most and love Amira to no end, David is hands down my favourite. He’s such an icon and he especially makes me love Druck so much. I can’t really explain why he’s my favourite so much, this one is really more of like i feel it in my soul that he’s my favourite and that’s why.

Skam España: Joana Bianchi. I... I wanted to say Amira or Lucas because i love them so freaking much and this one was honestly the hardest for me to decide but it is Joana. I don’t know what it is but i just deeply care for her so much.

Skam NL: Liv Reijners. Although i really do love like all the NL characters. Liv i decided to pick because she can sing and i love her style and she’s strong and independent and i feel like she’s a really unique noora and i just. love everything about her. I can’t find a single fault 🙈

2. fave musical moment?

Skam: håper du har plass playing when the girls go to get Sana, i think we all cry every time and i still listen to that song to this day

Skam Austin: honestly… cloutie 4 lyfe go listen to clout from grandma’s closet on soundcloud i stg their talent… is unparalleled (honorary mention, when Megan’s upset and crying and goes to see Marlon and they play the fricking meme song and stop it at “run.” i die every time)

Skam France: what else could i say other than when Lucas played ‘i love you’ on the piano like chills lich rally chills luv (honorary mention how the music goes all soft the first time Lucas sees Eliott, again iconic)

Druck: this is hard like i kind of just wanna say whenever they’ve ever used a song it’s been absolutely perfect, i think i’ll say during the first kiss clip though when they go to hold their breath and the music with the water sound effects like aaaa ded

Skam España: the last clip when they go to kiss and ‘I Follow Rivers’ starts playing like... it’s just perfect like everything comes full circle and im CRYING

Skam NL: another remake that always picks perfect music, i think my fav is whenever Liv goes to the mic to sing like i love her singing voice so much

3. if you could make your own season, who would it be about and what would happen?

I have thought about this so much it’s almost funny lmao. There’s just so much potential with Skam and then if you factor in the remakes like... absolutely spoilt for choice omfg. I’d love a Jonas season because he’s great but i really dont know what it’d even be about, Mahdi is another character i’ve always felt immensely interested in and i would love to know more about him. In the middle of typing this i’ve come to a decision actually lmao. Two words- BALLOON. SQUAD. They are literally my favourite thing about og ever seriously and Elias is my favourite Skam character. So idk maybe a season about them? and maybe about their friend group and how they’re all drifting apart or brotherhood or like healthy male friendships where they are there for each other and shit or about Even becoming friends with them again or IDK. but i know i’d have loved a season centered on them and if i had a greater mind i’d be able to come up with a good plot for them too lmao.

4. rank the sanas ( I’m evil I know )

This is literally the worst question I’ve ever seen and yes you are evil

Sana, Amira TM, Amira N, Imane, Zoya, Esra, Imaan.

BUT THEY ARE ALL EQUALLY MY FAVOURITE

5. fave season from each remake and why?

Skam Austin: Unpopular Opinion but i really loved season 1, however, I think i have to say season 2 because of how fucking well they developed all the characters like giving the cast input into the story was the best decision Skam Austin could’ve ever made. Also, Clout From Grandma’s Closet? like need i say more

Skam France: I only watched 3 and 4 and my fav is 3. Very good homage to OG with the story telling and made me absolutely fall in love with Lucas and Eliott. Like I went through the same motions as i did when i watched OG and it was nice to be reminded of that. Also liked the small changes they made like the Polaris thing that was iconic

Druck: SEASON 3. what an emotional fucking roller coaster. They had me hooked every single minute of the day and still do now. I love Matteo and how they changed the story up like im still pissed about the pacing kind of but honestly i loved season 3 and still rewatch it. the music was perfect, development of the characters, the softness. everything was just so good

Skam NL: As much as i love Liv I have to say season 1. it was goregously done, i loved the aesthetic and Isa is such a realistic and relatable character. Also her moments with Kes and Lucas and the moments with the girl squad, like it was just a really iconic start to an awesome series.

Skam España: I’ve only watched season 2 but i know even if i watched season 1 i would still say season 2 lmao. Honestly there is not a SINGLE thing they did wrong. like the story was perfect, the honour they did to og, how they switched the relationships up. it genuinely was just fucking perfect (except the whole panphobia thing. if that comment wasn’t said spain would have the best remake)

6. What’s your opinion on s2? what do you like and dislike the most? which remake made the best s2? (españa doesn’t count)

I am going to be truthful here and say that when i was first watching OG and watched season 2 I did like it but after growing up a bit and reflecting I now honestly really dont. like i’ve tried to avoid that season in remakes as much as i can (i’ve failed and the only noorhell i’ve not seen is frances one). I think what got me at first was the whole like layers thing to William. how there was more to him and also like the typical fanfic tropey moments between them. what i like about season 2 is the SA storyline, like that is an extremely important topic that needs to be talked about more so i like how it brought light to that and also how they show Noora handling the situation and how the girl squad are and i <3. What i dislike is how William uses Vilde and is so manipulative and ANNOYING omfg. Like i can’t explain how much his entitled rich ass frustrates me and how broken down Noora is by him.

7. what representation would you like to see in Skam (other than more wlw)?

Honestly i’d like to see more ethnic minorities tbh, especially like maybe some east asian people? I want skam to be the type of thing that no matter who you are you can see yourself represented in it and while the remakes and og do an alright job of it, i’d love to see more. i’ll say this this til the day i die- REPRESENTATION IS IMPORTANT

8. what country would you like to see a remake and why?

My biased ass is screaming Skam Scotland because like i would be able to relate to it so much and I’d love it with my entire soul but also just somewhere where the majority of the population isnt white. would be lovely for it to be in like India or Pakistan maybe so that I could personally relate to it but honestly anywhere with POC would be an absolute WIN for me. i suggest Skam Scotland where the girl and boy squad are south asians/east asians + black with the good ol’ token white friend! Hire me

9. fave head canon?

Honestly any (head)canon that says anyone is not cishet is like 👌

10. sort characters into Hogwarts houses

I was going to do the characters from all the remakes when i realised... they’re all essentially the same each time I- anyways lmao

Hufflepuff - Magnus, Even, Chris, Vilde, Mikael, Yousef, Linn

Slytherin - Sana, Isak

Gryffindor - Mahdi, Elias, Eva, Adam, Mutasim, Eskild

Ravenclaw - Jonas, Noora

This is mostly based off pure gut instinct idk

11. tell me your best crossover idea

How all the remakes seem to have the girl squads going on summer roads trips I kinda had this thought that maybe like the groups in each of the different remakes and og decide to go on a big friends holiday and everyone ends up in the same place and they all meet. none of the isaks really get along with each other, all the evens of course become best friends on the spot etc etc. i just want everyone to automatically become best friends im not good at coming up with ideas for these sorts of things sorry lmao

For my 11 questions:

Which remake/og sqaud do you think you would personally fit into the most?

What is your favourite remake and why?

What is objectively the best remake and why?

Opinions on each of the girl squads?

Favourite hairstyle out of all the remakes? (this includes any hijab styles of the Sanas)

Who do you think from og/remakes would have a youtube channel and what would they post about? (not including hei briskeby or lucas rubio’s yt channel)

Pick someone you think is underappreciated from og/remakes and explain why you think they should be appreciated more

Favourite outfit/clothing item?

Which character do you think is most similar to you?

Do you like the Eva season (season 1)?

Insert your own question that you’d like to answer!

I will tag @thedavideffect @pansexualevenbech @2ndbest @joanascris @hufflepuff-ish @matteoluigiflorenzi @liveterna2 @bbibbicole @xxrps @happoa @eleaha but don’t do this if you don’t want to! and if you see this but i haven't please go for it i would’ve tagged everyone humanly possible but alas i had to pick 11 lmao but i love reading different peoples thoughts so yeah. pls do if you want to <3

#omd this took me so long because of number 3 im so sorry #like i just culdnt think of what id do if i had the power to make a season #tag yourself im me taking this way too seriously #thanks for tagging me dani ly #about me #long post #skam #skam austin #skam france #skam españa #skam nl #druck

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mylutteoheart · 6 years ago

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A Great Christmas Break Mistake

Surprise, surpise. I finally finished this. So merry Christmas to everyone from me, hope you have a great year and you get to enjoy the holidays as mush as I wish I could.

Anyway, yes, this is a christmas fic, although it didn’t start out that way. There’s not a lot of dialogue in it so I have to warn you. Ignore the possible writing mistakes please, I didn’t proofread. I feel like this writing style is differen from what I usually do. I blame it on trying to ignore my ear infection even though it hurts so much and I also blame it on the many stories I’ve read while I couldn’t write due to college. Though I have to say those stories are so good, I want to read more and I’m impatient.

Writer’s note: I used the there’s only one bed prompt that I’ve already used for simbar and gastina, the concept is just a little different now but the basics are the same. So consider this part the last part to complete that story.

Word count: 2.3k

find my other fics here

Luna was nervous. She had no idea what was going to happen now that she and Matteo had to share a room. She still wasn't happy the hotel made such a huge mistake by booking the rooms wrong. But she decided to let it slide and enjoy her vacation with her friends at the coast. It didn't take away her nervousness though.

Matteo was the one who opened the door. He was the first one to enter the room. He stopped once he had a good look at the room. He turned around to face Luna. When she noticed, she saw a smirk appear on his face and she already knew she's not going to like what she finds in the room.

He walked further into the room so she could walk in as well. She slowly entered the room, scared of what she might find. Once she was in the room, she immediately saw the king size bed that was there. There was just one bed. This was an interesting turn of events.

He opened his mouth to say something but she stopped him before he could say anything. "We're not going to sleep in the same bed together." she warned him.

For a second, she saw he was disappointed by this but it was too fast to fully realize it. He didn't answer her. Things have been weird between them ever since they shared the kiss the other night. They had broken up before that so the kiss came out of nowhere for both of them. They both were too stubborn to be the first one to bring up the subject. They haven't really talked since then, they only had small talk. It made things even more awkward between them. Especially now that they're going to share a room for an entire week.

She had to admit that she was scared yet excited about the interesting turn of events. She always felt so safe whenever she was asleep in his arms, it felt like home. She tried to bury those feelings now that they have landed in this situation. There was no way they were going to sleep in one bed this entire holiday break, it would hurt too much. He would be so close and yet so far away from him and she couldn't handle it.

After an awkwar silence, Matteo tried to break the ice by jokingly saying: "We'll see about that, chica delivery." He gave her a quick wink. After everything that happened between them, he could no longer deny it. He missed their banter, their jokes, her contagious laugh, her energy, her kindness, her love. Above all, he missed her. No matter how much he tried, he wanted to go back, back to when they were happy together. He was desperate to get back to their normal.

They were both stubborn when it came down to it or maybe they were afraid. Neither of them knew how the other felt. It was hurting both of them. But all Luna could answer to his comment was an eye roll. She didn't want to show him she was actually blushing. But he noticed and it made him smile genuinely. It was good to know for him that he could still make her blush.

After what seemed forever, Luna was the one to suggest: "We'll settle this later. We have to get ready for tonight's Christmas party." It was a beach party they organised themselves. "I'm getting dressed. You can unpack while I'm taking a shower." she made clear to him.

Matteo opened his mouth but Luna stopped him by putting her finger to her lips, his attention was at her lips now: "Don't even think about it."

After this, she went to the bathroom. While she was there, she blasted Christmas songs from her phone and Matteo couldn't help but laugh. Why is she so adorable? He asked by himself. Eventually she sang along and he could listen to this for hours without getting bored. He was distracted by this and he couldn't do anything else.

After a while, she came out of the bathroom and showed up in a red dress that looked perfectly on her. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He was in complete aw which made him stare at her for a very long time.

It made Luna feel a little bit weird but she didn't mind. She took the chance to take a look into his eyes as she hasn't been able to do so before and she believed to see a flicker of admiration and love. She didn't want to believe it to be true because she didn't think he still had feelings for her but there was this spark of hope inside of her that there was still a chance for them. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad that she had this feeling. How is she going to share a room with him for a week? If she'd constantly feel this way.

She got herself together by saying: "Now it's time for you to get ready." Her voice got him out of his state and left for the bathroom.

Luna felt like he took forever in there and as soon as she was about to knock on the door of the bathroom, he came out. When she took a good look at what he was wearing, she forgot how good he looked in those vests of his. It was Luna's favorite style of Matteo's. A smirk appeared on his face when he saw she was speechless. "I know I look handsome."

She didn't answer right away but then eventually got to say: "Always so full of yourself, aren't you chico fresa?"

"I'm just stating the truth." The smirk never disappeared from his face.

They stared at each other in silence, I guess you could say their feelings got the best of them. They were silent, admiring each other. Both fighting every urge to kiss each other. They both sighed in relief when they heard a phone ring.

"It's Nina, she's asking where we are." she eventually said.

"Tell her we'll be down in a minute." he said and he placed a small kiss on her cheek before taking the keys of their room and opening the door for her. They left together to join the rest of the party.

They avoided each other most of the time while they were there. It was hard for them to stay apart but they thought it was for the best. It was too hard for them to see each other, there was always some kind of knot in their stomach because they longed for each other but they couldn't. They didn't think it was right.

Luna tried to mingle with her friends all night, this was the perfect way to celebrate Christmas Eve but she felt that somehow something was missing. She just couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was. She decided to take a break from the party and tried to find a spot that was less crowded. She looked around but she didn't see where she was going so when she hit something hard while walking, she fell down.

She didn't realize she closed her eyes when she looked up and saw Matteo standing over her, having a worried look on his face. She didn't even realize he caught her right before faliing down on the sand.

When he knew she was fine, he still held her in his arms, he didn't want to let go just yet. He looked into her eyes and saw surprise in them but also a sign of gratefulness. She gave him a faint smile. He couldn't help but return it.

He finally broke the silence by speaking these words: "There I go saving you again."

She rolled his eyes and answered: "You can let go now."

Against his will, he helped her stand on her feet and let go of her. "Are you okay?" he asked to be sure.

"I'm fine, thanks." she looked down to try and avoid his gaze. When his eyes were full of worry, she always melted in them but she couldn't let that happen now. "Thanks for saving me." she was a little embarrassed to say it but she truly was grateful and she could never lie to him.

"I know a proper way of thanking me." his teasing started to come out again, he knew it wasn't a good idea but he just couldn't help it whenever he's around her. Her reactions to his teasing were always so cute and he never got tired of them.

She crossed her arms, she was cautious now: "What way is that?" she had to admit she was intrigued.

He looked up with his eyes and they told her to follow them and that's when she saw the mistletoe. "You know the tradition."

She started to feel a little awkward now. But it was also a tempting offer and this was the perfect excuse to kiss him again even though it would probably hurt, she couldn't resist. "I guess we can't ignore tradition then." she said a little unsure.

He took a step closer towards her carefully. He didn't want to scare her away but she kept standing in the same spot. Slowly, he leaned in while she didn't move a muscle. He touched her lips softly and unsure. He had forgottten what it felt like to kiss her and it was amazing. When he turned the kiss deeper, she kissed him back hesitantly. He meant it to be a small kiss but it wasn't enough for him. He kept kissing her and he expected her to pull back but she didn't. How could something so wrong feel so right? In the back of his mind, there was a voice telling him that this was a mistake, he tried to ignore it as much as he could.

The world faded away around them. It was just the two of them. Nothing else mattered. They kissed each other like their lives depended on it. Carefully, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to him. He didn't hold back anymore. It was all or nothing to him. It seemed like she felt the same way about it. But he didn't want to stop the kiss to ask.

They stood there, making out for a pretty solid 30 minutes when they suddenly heard someone call their names. They pulled away without wanting to and they both sighed in annoyance.

"It's getting late, we're heading back to the hotel and we were wondering if you guys were coming with us." Apparently Gastón was the one to interrupt them. Out of all people, the one who knew how Matteo felt interrupted them. When he saw the angry look on Matteo's face, he asked: "Did I interrupt something?"

Without waiting a second, Luna immediately answered: "No, not at all." She followed Gastón as fast as she could once she got back to reality. How come they keep kissing when they broke up? She asked herself. She kept wondering if this meant anything to him but she was too afraid to ask. So they headed back to the hotel in silence. This was going to be one awkward night.

When they got back to their room, she didn't realize how cold she was and she started shaking. It was colder than she thought. Matteo noticed this and suddenly said in a serious tone: "You're taking the bed tonight." He said in a way that Luna knew he wouldn't accept no for an answer so she just nodded in agreement. She felt guilty to let him sleep on the couch though. So she came up with the perfect excuse.

"I'm freezing, maybe you can help me get warmed up by holding me?" she asked hesitantly.

A big genuine smile appeared on his face. How could he refuse this offer? Cuddling with Luna and waking up next to her, that was always one of their favourite things in their relationship. Those were the most beautiful memories. Watching her sleep and seeing her smile while holding her. Of course, they made a lot of beautiful memories together but those kind of memories always stood out to him because in those moments, she didn't care about anyone else or what she looked like, she was just happy to be there in the moment with him. No one would watch them. It was just the two of them, no worries just pure happiness.

"Are you sure?" he didn't want make her feel like she was obligated to anything. "I can just sleep on the couch, I don't mind."

"Don't be silly. It's okay, really." She gave him a reassuring smile.

So they crawled in bed together. He lied down on his back and she rested her head on his chest. She wrapped her arm around him as tight as she could while he wrapped both his arms around her, as tight as he could. They didn't care to take off their clother and change into pajamas. He gave her a kiss on her hair right before he rested his chin on her hair.

He felt her shivering in his arms so he put the blanket right up under her chin so she wouldn't get any cold from the outside. He tried to warm her up rubbing his arms against her back and her arm. He tried everything he could think of to get her warmed up and it seemed to work because after a couple of minutes, she stopped shivering. Her eyes closed soon after and right before she fell asleep completely, he said: "Merry Christmas, chica delivery." They weren't exactly the words he wanted to say but it's the closest he could get to them.

"Merry Christmas, chico fresa." she muffled under her breath, already falling asleep.

They never moved and fell asleep the way they were lying. Neither of them wanted to pull away anyway. It was just them in this room now, it's all they could ever ask for in that moment. But they both knew that dreading the conversation they desperately needed to have was no longer an option. They had to talk and they had to do it tomorrow, no matter what.

#soy luna #lutteo #holiday fics #my soy luna fic #lutteo fanfic #soy luna fanfic #Luna valente #matteo balsano #there's only one bed

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softlofty · 6 years ago

Text

take my heart and take my hand | ringsy

read this on ao3

the ringsy fake dating au no one was waiting for but here it is! the church is real, and so is the hotel with the flowers on chandeliers and the rooftop where you can sit :) let me know what you thought! x

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Ringo is on his way home from work, nearing the staircase up to the flat share when his eye falls on their communal mail box, two envelopes sticking out from underneath it. He rolls his eyes as he unlocks the box. Ringo had tried to set up a schedule with his roommates, have two set days in which one person collects all of their mail and have a different person every week, but it had not stuck so whilst Ringo still had hope that maybe someone else had bothered, he always ended up being the one to go and get it.

It’s quite a pile, and he flips through them as he makes his way up the stairs. Most of it is bills and advertising, but about halfway is a thick red envelope. The paper of the envelope feels heavier than normal ones, and when Ringo turns it around he sees his name swirled on it in fancy lettering.

He leans against the wall of the hallway at the front door, the remainders of the post tucked under his arm as he holds the envelope in his hand. He doesn’t recognize the handwriting, and the stamps don’t look different than normal.

Ringo carefully wedges his finger under the flap and slowly rips open the envelope. He pulls out the card, only to be greeted by his sister, a big grin on her face and her eyes gazing romantically into those of her boyfriend. Kira and Matteo. When Ringo folds the card open, there’s big letters at the top: We’re getting married, and we’d like for you to be there! His eyes quickly run over the rest of the card, most of it being practical information about where to be and at what time, and Ringo closes the card again and stares at the front, tears prickling his eyes as he sees his sister and can only describe her with one word: happy.

It had been a little strange when Ringo had answered a Skype call from Kira and his sister was not by herself but instead joined by dark haired man, who looked just as uncomfortable as Ringo felt. Kira introduced him as her boyfriend, and even though it was a little awkward, Ringo had consciously made an effort to get to know him a little, as much as he could with Skype making his screen freeze every five minutes and giving them long pauses where they couldn’t hear each other anymore. Ringo knows his twin sister well enough, she wouldn’t tell him about someone she’s dating unless it’s serious, and so Ringo took it seriously. And once she had taken that hurdle, Kira would mention him in stories and when updating Ringo about how she was doing. It was obvious she was happy with him, a smile on her face as she filled her brother in.

“A wedding.” Ringo mumbles to himself as he slides the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket, walking into the flat share with the rest of the post in his hand. “Here is the post.” He says as he lets the stack fall onto the table, Paco and Elli immediately walking around the table to sift through the letters. Ringo can feel the envelope burning in his pocket, and so he walks up to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed as he takes the card out and reads it again.

It’s actually that night, after dinner when Ringo is sitting on his bed with his laptop, that Kira calls him through Skype. He clicks on accept without a second thought, and his sister greets him.

“Hey,” There’s a smile on her face but Ringo sees her eyes bouncing over her screen. “Hey you,” Ringo says, “I got your card.” A full grin breaks out now, and Kira claps her hands together a few times. “Oh thank goodness, I was afraid I was going to have to keep myself from talking about it in case you hadn’t gotten it yet.” Ringo playfully rolls his eyes. “Congratulations, I’m really happy for you.”

Kira’s smile grows a little fonder at his words. “Thank you.” She waits a beat and then starts talking again. “Sooo. Did you notice the line of text at the bottom of the card?” Ringo’s eyes narrow, and when he realises what she’s referring to he can feel the internal panic setting in.

“What, about me bringing a plus one?” Kira grins smugly, nodding her head. “And you better bring someone!” she points a finger at him, “There’s no way you’re still single at this point.”

Ringo can feel heat flush his cheeks, and it’s awful because he looks at his sister’s face, and he can see how hopeful she is, how much she’s trying to pull at him to tell her about his dating life even though there is nothing to tell. But she’s getting married, and she’s happy, and those two things are connected in a way that makes his sister wish the same fate for her brother.

“Well, maybe I’m not single anymore,” Ringo says as casual as he can, shrugging his shoulders. Kira’s eyes widen and she smiles gleefully. “I knew it! Whoever it is, bring them to the wedding. I’m sure they won’t mind a quick trip to Milan.” He knows he’s digging himself into a hole here but Kira just looks so happy for him, he can’t take it back now. Ringo presses his lips together. “I don’t know if he can get time off from work.” He hopes it’s the end of it and Kira will take it back a notch, but instead she latches on. “He? Your first official relationship in years is with a guy? Good for you!” Ringo can see in her face that she’s genuine, and he knows it’s because Kira was there when he struggled with his sexuality, when he tried to deny himself his feelings for men. Guilt swirls in his stomach.

Kira still stares at him, an expectant look on her face. “Do I really not get a name?” Ringo rolls his eyes at her. “If you knew all this time, you should be able to guess who it is.” He hopes it will get him out of having to make up a name, but Kira just says, “It’s Easy, isn’t it.” He feels his mouth fall open a little, and his mind goes completely blank. “How, how did you know?” Ringo manages.

Kira shrugs with a knowing smile. “You’ve told me about how you two are closer friends now, it’s not that big of a leap. I mean, yeah you two used to hate each other, but even that was way too intense for it not to have sexual undertones.” Ringo hears himself laugh sheepishly, so dumbfounded at this situation he is now in that he just goes along with whatever she’s saying.

He thinks he hears Kira say something about what kind of suit Ringo should wear at the wedding and which colour tie Easy could wear to match, but it goes in one ear and out the other. All he can think about is Easy, and about how his sister now thinks they’re dating, and maybe even more importantly, how she saw that coming.

***

The next day at the office, everything feels like a blur. It registers somewhere in the back of Ringo’s mind that Huber sounds annoyed with him but he doesn’t feel bad about it, images of Easy laughing in his face when he asks him if he would be willing to go to his sister’s wedding as his boyfriend, flashing through his mind. Of every outcome this situation could produce, there is not a single one that seems like a good idea. Easy might be the only friend Ringo’s made in recent years, and the thought of losing that friendship, especially over something as stupid as this, is heart-breaking, and it makes Ringo realise how much he values having Easy as a friend.

The thought occurs to Ringo that Easy could assume Ringo has feelings for him, that this whole thing is a set-up, some elaborate scheme Ringo created in order to get closer to him. Easy probably would not put it past him.

He’s upstairs in his room, having excused himself from the dinner table when he lost his appetite, pretending not to notice his roommates’ concerned glances, when there’s a knock at the door. “Yeah?” Ringo calls out. The door opens slightly, and Easy pokes his head through. “Hey, Paco said you were here. Can I come in?” Ringo nods, and Easy takes a seat on the desk chair, facing Ringo as he sits on his bed. “Everything okay?” Easy asks after a moment, and panic tugs at the pit of Ringo’s stomach, knowing that he’s not ready for what this conversation could turn into.

Ringo shrugs. “I’m fine. Why?” There’s a small smile playing around Easy’s lips, and then his eyes turn serious as he looks at Ringo. “You seem a little off,” he waits a moment, gives Ringo a chance to interrupt but he does not, “I texted you twice but you didn’t answer.” He had purposely not looked at his phone ever since he got that card, too scared Kira might text him with more wedding talk.

He looks away, avoiding Easy’s gaze. He hears a deep sigh and then turns back. “Look, Ringo, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Easy leans forward slightly and places a hand on Ringo’s knee, “but you know I’m here right?” And it’s excruciating, because Ringo knows this is not empty politeness or mockery, this is Easy who has gotten to know Ringo better, who knows that even when he may not let it show, Ringo has things to say, things to talk through, can gravitate towards the comfort and affection of others.

When Ringo stays silent Easy gives his knee a gentle squeeze and then moves to get up. “Wait,” Ringo says when Easy’s by the door, standing still and turning around upon hearing Ringo.

He exhales deeply. “I need to talk to you.” Easy’s mouth tugs up at one corner and Ringo knows it’s because Easy feels satisfied, knowing Ringo well enough now to sense when something’s up.

He walks back to the desk chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well?”

Ringo leans off of his bed, grabbing the red envelope from underneath a book on his nightstand, handing it to Easy, who folds it open, eyes widening as he sees what’s inside.

“Kira’s getting married? That’s great, congratulations!” Easy looks at him, eyes warm and fond, and Ringo can see that he’s genuinely pleased for Kira. There’s few elements of Ringo’s life that don’t involve Easy.

Easy leans forward, putting the card and envelope on Ringo’s bed. “So what’s the problem then, do you not approve of the groom?”

Ringo rolls his eyes with a smile. “Obviously.” Easy grins at him, and Ringo wants to stay like this, enjoys the way everything feels so simple with Easy.

“Kira,” Ringo starts, holds his breath for a moment and then breathes out with a shudder, “expects me to bring a date.” Easy studies Ringo’s face for a moment and then slowly starts talking. “And, you feel awkward asking a friend?” Something flashes over his face and Easy gets a bit more tense and uncomfortable. “Or, or are you dating someone?” Ringo huffs a little laugh, but he guesses the self-deprecation definitely does not go over Easy’s head.

“I talked to Kira after I had gotten the card, and she brought up the plus one thing, and-“ Ringo presses his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. It’s been a while since he felt this embarrassed. “Ringo, just spit it out.” Easy tells him, but it’s not harsh.

“She thinks you’re my boyfriend and she now expects you to come with me as my date.” Ringo rushes, the words coming out in one long stream. Easy narrows his eyes as he stares at Ringo, but Ringo is relieved to see amusement in his face. “How,” Easy puffs out a short breath, “how did that happen?” Ringo can feel the warmth in his cheeks, and wants nothing more than to escape this moment, his only consolidation being that Easy hasn’t gotten angry at him yet.

“She asked if I was dating anyone and thus had someone to bring to the wedding, and she just looked,” Ringo closes his eyes for a moment, sighing as he suddenly feels completely exhausted, drawing a hand over his face, “she looked hopeful, like she wanted me to be someone’s boyfriend. And I didn’t have it in me to break her heart so I sort of half said that I was dating someone and when I let her guess who, she said your name.”

Easy flushes at that, and now Ringo definitely feels awful, like the thought of someone thinking they were together is so awkward for Easy that it makes him feel uncomfortable.

“And you went along with it?” Easy says quietly, eyes trained on Ringo, who nods at him. “By then I felt like I couldn’t take it back anymore. Plus, I was kind of shocked that she thought of you.”

Easy’s face falls a little at that. “Right,” he mumbles.

Neither one of them are saying anything then, and Ringo feels like he has to do something, make this better somehow. “I will tell Kira that I’m coming alone. And that I’m single.”

Easy’s eyebrows go up a little. “Oh, okay.” Well, that doesn’t sound like that was the right thing to say. “Or I could just go with you.” Easy says, and he doesn’t look as withdrawn as a moment ago.

“Really? But we’re not…” Ringo trails off, gesturing to the space between them. Easy shrugs with a lopsided smile. “We could be for a weekend. And I won’t say no to you paying for a trip to Milan.”

At this point Easy looks more on board with the plan than Ringo does, and Ringo doesn’t know if he should be glad or worried. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Ringo says quietly, and Easy just gives him a reassuring look. “I know. Look, we can figure this out together, okay? It’s just a small white lie, which will only exist in Milan, and after that it will disappear. It’s fine, honestly.”

Easy looks so convinced that there’s no harm in this, that Ringo can feel his own red flags lowering.

“Okay.” Ringo agrees, “and I’m sorry.” Easy laughs a little, walking towards the door. “Don’t worry, I’m making you pay for everything.”

Ringo books two tickets to Milan that night, and if the thought of having Easy by his side at the wedding makes him feel a little more calm, nobody had to know.

He makes a point of it to not talk about it with Easy the next day, despite the fact that it’s the only thing on Ringo’s mind. He takes into account the very realistic possibility that Easy calls the whole thing off after all, tells him that he feels uneasy with having to fake being in a relationship with Ringo, that he doesn’t know if he’ll even be able to pull that off convincingly.

But none of that happens. What does happen, is Easy texting Ringo, asking him to come over for dinner after work. And when Ringo steps into Easy’s apartment, it smells like tomatoes and spices, and Easy pushes a glass of wine in his hand and invites him to sit down on the couch.

“Is my brother not here?” Ringo asks once he has sat down. “No, he’s working late.” Easy says over his shoulder, standing by the counter with his attention focused on the stove.

The conversation ends there, and Ringo feels nervous and twitchy, not really knowing what he’s doing here or what Easy’s intentions are. “Easy?” Ringo says, and Easy turns around.

“Why are you doing this?” Ringo asks, and he braces himself for a let-down, for a ‘I changed my mind about the wedding thing but I made you dinner to soften the blow’, but instead Easy meets his curious gaze with a shy one, looking away for a moment to hide a smile which hasn’t completely disappeared by the time he looks back.

“I thought it would give us a chance to talk,” Easy says, as if it’s that simple, and he turns around again and starts serving the food onto plates, “maybe figure out how we are going to do this.”

Ringo swallows down a gulp of his wine, watching Easy as he walks towards the couch and takes the seat next to Ringo, setting the plates down in front of them. “Right.” Ringo says quietly, and Easy gives him a worried look. “Do you not want to do this? Because if you’ve changed your mind, I totally get it and it’s f-“ Ringo places a hand on Easy’s arm, and Easy’s mouth snaps shut. Ringo gives him a small smile. “It’s good,” Ringo takes a long breath in, “it’s more than that, it’s very nice of you. And we should definitely talk about… things.” Easy looks relieved, and gestures at the plates. “Food and a show first?” Ringo agrees with a little laugh, and as they eat their dinner together, it occurs to him that Easy is the nicest boyfriend, fake or real, he’s ever had.

Once they’re both done eating, Easy shuts his laptop closed and shifts in his seat so he’s facing Ringo. Ringo figures he should probably take the lead on this, since he’s the one asking something of Easy.

“So it might be a good idea to set some boundaries,” Ringo says, and it feels strange coming out of his mouth, asking Easy to be his pretend boyfriend for a weekend and then starting with discussing the things they shouldn’t do. Easy presses his lips together for a moment. “Do you think Kira expects us to be really affectionate with each other?” Kira has never seen Ringo in a real relationship before, only short-lived flings and one-night stands, so she doesn’t actually have anything to go off of, except for Ringo’s personality. “She used to say,” Ringo pauses, shakes his head with a little laugh and takes a sip of his wine, “she’d say that as much as I pretended I didn’t need anyone, one day I’d fall for someone, flat on my face, and that would be me done.” Easy laughs as well. “I think that’s pretty accurate.” Ringo looks Easy straight in the eyes. “Yeah?”

Easy nods at him, shrugs after a moment. “Well, you know, you like to act like you’re all tough and strong, but you can be really soft when you want to. You like to be in control, but that’s the thing about love isn’t it? You can’t help what you feel for someone.”

Ringo lets Easy’s words sink in, and when Easy meets Ringo’s eye again it’s like he only just realised what he said, the tips of his ears turning pink, matching the flush in his cheeks. “D’you think I’m soft with you?” Ringo asks, tilting his head. The way Easy speaks about him, is like he thinks about Ringo, about the way he is and the way he acts. “A little,” Easy says softly, “ you don’t do this with everyone, do you?” He gestures to the space around them, and Ringo grins at him.

Then, his face gets more serious. “Listen, I don’t know if it will even come up, but you don’t have to kiss me or anything, I feel like I’m asking too much of you as is, and-“ The more he talks the more the feeling start to set in that this whole thing is a very bad idea, but Easy puts a hand over Ringo’s mouth. “Let’s just say casual touching is fine, we’ve hugged before,” Ringo’s mouth moves under Easy’s hand but Easy presses down a little firmer, “and if it needs to go further than that, then we will cross that bridge when we get there, okay?” Ringo nods, sees Easy’s mouth turn into a smile as his hand moves with the rest of Ringo’s head.

They end up staying like that for the rest of the night, talking on Easy’s couch, not just about the wedding but also about other stuff, about their friends, jobs and, eventually, on how long they’ve known each other. “Have you never had a serious relationship? In all the time we’ve known each other?” Easy asks, the both of them sitting sideways, facing each other. Ringo shakes his head. “Nah.” Easy traces the stitching in the couch with his finger. “Not with a girl or not at all?”

“Not at all, with no one.” Ringo says, tugging on the bottom of his T-Shirt. “That’s probably why Kira was so excited. I think she was one phone call with me away from setting up a dating profile.” Easy bursts out laughing at that, his eyes squeezed closed and his head tilted back, and Ringo suddenly feels a little breathless.

Just from a completely objective point of view, Easy is attractive. That feels like an undisputed fact to Ringo, there’s no doubt about it. With how he’s sitting now, under the dimmed lights, cheeks rosy from the wine, all relaxed and loose-limbed, lips red and shiny from running his tongue and teeth over them and dark eyes twinkling as they look at Ringo, he’s beautiful. Not just that, he’s… sexy. And it’s strange, because Ringo never really consciously thought about what he thinks of Easy’s appearance, but now that he does, it seems so obvious, like it’s almost impossible that the thought of Easy being attractive didn’t occur to Ringo sooner, because he so clearly is.

“Once you do want an actual relationship though, I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding someone.” Easy says, snapping Ringo back to reality. “What?” Ringo asks, after having played back what Easy just said in his head. “Well, I mean,” Easy gestures to Ringo, who just looks at him questioningly, “you’re, you know, you.” Ringo huffs a little laugh, “yeah, exactly.” He knows it’s not what Easy means, but it always seems to come back to that, to who he is. That’s what destroys even the slightest potential of having a relationship with someone.

“God, why do hot people always act like they don’t know they are,” Easy says teasingly, leaning forward as he refills both of their wine glasses. Ringo snorts. “You’re one to talk.” As soon as the words leave his mouth he presses his lips together, as if to prevent anything else from spilling out. He definitely should stop drinking wine, but instead he thanks Easy as he hands him his glass.

“What does that mean?” Easy says, a playful grin on his face. Ringo rolls his eyes at him, hiding a smile behind the rim of his glass. He takes one sip and places his glass back on the table. “I think we’ll be fine at the wedding.” Easy smiles back at him, eyes soft at the corners and lips slightly pouted, and Ringo feels like he should go. “Thank you, for all of this. I’ll see you tomorrow, I think.” They usually bump into each other somehow. Ringo stands up and walks towards the door, turning around once more with the handle in his hand. “Goodnight, Easy.”

“Goodnight, Ringo.” Easy gently echoes.

Four hours later, Ringo is still floating in his bed, and he tells himself it’s because of the wine.

After that, work gets busier, and Ringo is actually a little thankful to be preoccupied, giving him the distance from Easy he feels like he needs. They just got caught up in the moment, and it’s not a big deal but Ringo can feel it clogging up his brain. It makes things too complicated, and having to be together at his sister’s wedding is going to be intense enough, so maybe being a few days apart right now will do them good.

He’s sitting with his laptop at the table in the flat share, when the door swings open. “And?” Easy says, hands in his pockets, his dress shoes giving a slight clicking sound as he takes slow steps into the apartment. He’s wearing a suit, completely black with a crisp white shirt underneath. It’s nothing special, but it’s classic and clean and Easy looks so good. Ringo has apparently been silent for so long, eyes trailing from Easy’s feet all the way up to his eyes, that Easy starts talking again. “Ringo? Is it good? Good enough for the wedding?” Ringo shakes his head, trying to keep his gaze just on Easy’s face. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s great. This will do.” Easy grins at him. “Oh good, because I was not looking forward to having to go suit shopping. What tie are you planning on wearing?”

Right, because they can’t have two completely different colours. “Dark blue.” Easy hums, ponders for a moment. “You could go for light blue,” Ringo offers, “I think that would look good on you.”

He can’t even really tell if that came off as flirty or as simple fashion advice, but Easy smiles at him either way. “Alright, will do. Thanks.” Easy steps towards Ringo, squeezes his shoulder and walks back out the door. Once the door slams shut, Ringo leans his elbows on the table, holding his head in his hands. He can kind of feel what’s happening, but it’s not real. It can’t be. This is because Ringo has put them in this situation. They’re about to be pretend boyfriends for a weekend, no wonder the lines are starting to feel a little fuzzy. “Snap out of it.” Ringo murmurs to himself.

***

They fly on a Friday, arriving in Milan in the evening, with the wedding on Saturday and then the flight back on Sunday morning. The taxi ride to the airport is quiet but not unpleasant, and Ringo’s glad once they’re both seated on the plane. Airplanes aren’t his favourite place to be. He insists on not calling it a phobia, and refuses to take medication for it. He did however book a direct flight, which takes a little over an hour, so he thought he’d be fine but then the plane starts to drive and he can feel a pull at the bottom of his stomach. Ringo keeps his eyes trained in front of him, but then he feels something at his ear, and when he looks to his side Easy is putting one earbud in Ringo’s ear, the other in his own, his thumb scrolling through his phone before settling on a song. When Easy looks up from his screen he gives Ringo a gentle smile, placing his arm down on the armrest in between them, palm facing up. Ringo looks the other way, out of the window, but after a few seconds he puts his hand in Easy’s, and he feels Easy intertwine their fingers. About halfway through the flight Easy lets Ringo’s hand go, but by that time he’s asleep with his head on Ringo’s shoulder.

The landing goes a lot smoother than the take-off, and once the wheels have touched the ground again, Ringo looks to his left, Easy’s head neatly tucked against his shoulder. He hesitates for a moment, needing to wake Easy, but his face is all smoothed out, completely relaxed, and he doesn’t want to disturb him, least of all do it by unintentionally moving a body part and smacking Easy in the face in the process. What he ends up with, is combing a hand through Easy’s hair. “Hey,” Ringo says quietly, and as Easy stirs he retrieves his hand. “Are we there already?” Easy says, voice a little croaky, eyes half opened. “Yeah,” Ringo says, feeling himself start to smile as Easy yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, let’s go find a taxi.”

After they get dropped off at the hotel, they make their way to their room, drop their suitcases and nestle onto their respective beds, Easy ordering room service for them both. And then it’s not that different from home, the two of them with plates on their laps, eyes on the tv. “Ahhhh,” Easy groans, scooting down the bed until he’s laying completely horizontally, his hands on his stomach, “I’m so full. Why didn’t you stop me?” Ringo laughs, also laying on his bed, turning his head to look at Easy, who looks back after a moment. His laugh dies down, and he ends up just looking at Easy, and neither of them break contact.

“What are you thinking?” Easy asks softly. Ringo takes a breath, looking at the ceiling. “It’s strange. I’ve been so focussed on having a date for my sister’s wedding,” Ringo swallows thickly, “I feel like I’ve only just realised that my sister is getting married tomorrow.” When he looks back at Easy, he’s looking at him with a fond and affectionate gaze, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

“Feels like a big deal, right?” Easy says, and Ringo nods. “It does.”

They stay quiet for a bit, both of them now on their sides, gaze on each other.

“I think she’s happy though,” Ringo says quietly, “and that’s what she deserves.”

Ringo wakes up first the next morning, an hour and a half before his alarm. Easy is still asleep, the bottom half of his face tucked under his duvet, which gently rises and falls with his breathing. In that moment, Ringo feels grateful to have Easy with him, the imaginings of how nervous and tense he would have been, had he been on his own, enough to flood his chest with relief.

He decides to take a shower and then walks down to reception in sweatpants and a T-Shirt, not wanting to risk ruining his suit before the day has even begun.

When he opens the door with his elbow, as gently and softly as he can, Easy is sitting up in his bed, awake. “Hey. I’ve got breakfast.” Ringo whispers, pushing the door shut with his foot and walking over to Easy. He sits on the edge of his own bed, setting the plates down the nightstand and dividing the bread rolls. Easy rubs both of his eyes, looking at Ringo as he blinks a few times, and then he grins. “What?” Ringo says around a mouthful of bread. Easy shrugs. “Just, you in sweatpants. You’re usually in a suit.” Ringo rolls his eyes. “Sorry I didn’t get all dressed up for you.” He can see Easy trying to hide a smile, but he fails. “It was actually a compliment, you dork,” Easy says teasingly, and then his eyes sort of daze over Ringo’s chest, and it’s brief but Ringo sees it, “it’s nice. You look more approachable.” Ringo snorts at that, and Easy gives him a grin back.

And it’s nice that it’s still so easy and effortless between them, because Ringo can feel his stomach getting increasingly restless, excited to see his sister but also hoping that everything goes the way she wants today, hoping that everything will still be the same between Easy and himself at the end of the day, and if at all possible, that they both manage to actually have a nice time.

It’s funny, because Ringo keeps thinking of Easy doing this as some kind of task, something he has to put effort into and that he probably wants to get over with, but it doesn’t actually seem to be that way for Easy. “I can’t believe Kira’s getting married today, man,” Easy says, setting his now empty plate back on the nightstand, “I feel like it was yesterday that she was in middle school, crushing on a new guy every week.” Ringo smiles to himself. It feels good to have Easy here with him, not just to be his pretend boyfriend for a day, but like he should be here to see this, given how long he’s been in both Kira and Ringo’s lives.

“Alright, I’ll go shower,” Easy announces, and Ringo gives him a thumbs up. The ten minutes Easy spends in the shower, Ringo uses to put on his suit, and when Easy emerges from the bathroom, in a T-Shirt and boxers, Ringo is fiddling with his tie. “You want some help with that?” Easy asks, and Ringo is stubborn enough to pull and tug for twenty more seconds before giving up, letting his arms fall down his sides. “Here,” Easy says, standing right in front of him, eyes focused on the tie as his fingers fasten a knot, “it’s easier to do it on somebody else.” It’s a little dizzying, having Easy this near, and Ringo can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous or because Easy is standing so close Ringo can feel the warmth coming off of his body and smell the cologne he just put on. “See, all good.” Easy says, and he smooths the tie down, closing Ringo’s jacket and smoothing it down again, flat palms over his chest. Then he looks up, warm brown eyes staring into his own, and Easy looks a little like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, looking away with slightly rosy cheeks.

“I’ll put on my suit as well.” Easy says, after clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’ll look up where exactly we need to go,” Ringo says, sitting down on his bed and opening his laptop. He can see in his peripheral vision that Easy hasn’t moved, so he looks up. “I won’t look, promise.” Ringo says, smiling when Easy gives him an amused look.

They have to go the San Fedele Church, in the North North-East of Milan. Ringo grabs the wedding invitation from his suitcase, going over it one more time and checking if he didn’t forget anything.

“Alright, how do I look?” Easy says, and Ringo looks up, and he looks gorgeous, a black suit with a teal tie neatly tied around his neck. “You look…” Ringo trails off, panicking over what word to choose, not wanting it to feel like too much, but Easy’s face is dropping now, like he thinks Ringo isn’t happy with it. “Really good,” Ringo settles on, but adding after a few seconds, “handsome.” Easy smiles shyly at him. “And you tied your own tie.” Ringo says, and Easy laughs a little, and the air feels lighter again.

Easy drags a hand over his face and then stops. “Oh. Do you want me clean shaven, or is a little stubble okay?” Ringo gives him an amusing smile. “You can do what you want, you know. But if you want my opinion, I like the stubble.” Easy nods, rubbing his cheek a few more times before grabbing his coat. The drive from the hotel to the church isn’t long, and before he knows it, Ringo’s sitting in one of the pews, Easy next to him.

The floor is covered with beige and tan tiles with dark lining around it, there’s all kinds of art at the sides of the room and there are gold, shiny details everywhere. On the table at the front and around the altar are white flowers, which make it feel more like a wedding. When Ringo looks around him he doesn’t recognize many people, only faces he may have seen on a photo or two which Kira sent him, and his brother-in-law to be, standing in the front. No aunts or uncles, and he knows that Tobias tried his hardest to be there, but couldn’t get the time off of work. Ringo’s heart aches for his sister, knowing that there are people missing in more ways than one, but it also solidifies the feeling that it’s a good thing that he did come.

They haven’t been seated that long, when the music starts. It’s a soft piano song, and everyone stands up. He shares a look with Easy, and neither one of them are thinking about acting like boyfriends, they’re just happy to be where they are right then and there.

And then Kira walks in, her hair loosely done up in curls, wearing a simple flowy white dress, on the arm of a man Ringo guesses is Matteo’s father, and Kira spots him immediately. Ringo can see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes, and he mimes a kiss at her. She grins at him, and continues to shuffle down the path, until she’s at the front of the church. Everyone sits down again, and a different man in a suit begins to speak.

It’s a simple ceremony, with a few piano songs and the exchange of vows. Ringo watches Kira speak to her soon-to-be husband, in Italian which has gotten even better since the last time he heard it, and he knows he has never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at Matteo. His throat starts to feel a little tight, and he feels Easy grab one of his hands from his lap, and hold it. He looks at him to his side and gives him a grateful smile.

After the ceremony in the church they take a taxi to the venue, a hotel called Château Monfort, which is nine minutes away. Once they’re sat in the car and it begins to move, Easy takes a deep breath in and out. Ringo looks at him. “Are you okay?” Easy nods at him. “Yeah. It’s good to see Kira again after all these years.” He stares ahead of him, and Ringo can see he’s still thinking so he keeps quiet. “It’s a little overwhelming.” Easy says softly, and Ringo knows he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, but the doubt and worry that he may have dragged Easy into something he was not prepared for, tugs at him. “You will let me know if you want to head back to the hotel, right?” Ringo says, sounding worried even to his own ears. Easy huffs on a smile. “Sure.” Ringo hums, knowing Easy would never take him away from his own sister’s wedding, but being satisfied for now.

The inside of the hotel is beautiful, and Ringo can see why people would want to host their wedding reception here. There is a glass dome in the ceiling which shows a darkening sky, there’s giant chandeliers hanging with bundles of brightly coloured flowers worked into them, luxurious chairs in pastel colours and white or soft pink details everywhere, from the walls to the table cloths.

“Wow. She knows how to get married.” Easy says when he comes to stand next to Ringo at the entrance to the main room. Ringo chuckles, and nods his head. There’s people already sitting at tables, and he guesses Kira and Matteo will be here soon enough. “Okay. If you’re uncomfortable with something, you’ll tell me, right?” Ringo says firmly, looking at Easy, and Easy’s face kind of loses its friendly demeanour, as if the reminder that this is all pretend, that there are boundaries they should respect, upsets him. He gets a short nod, and Ringo wants to say something to make it better but instead Easy walks out in front of him, heading to the bar.

He’s still debating whether he should go over there or give Easy some space, when he feels two hands on his shoulders, and when he turns around Kira throws herself on him, her arms tightly around him and it just feels so good to have her close again. “You look beautiful,” Ringo says when he looks her in the face again. She smiles at him, her hands on Ringo’s cheeks, and the way she looks at him is so emotional and raw, Ringo feels like he has to look away. “Hey you two,” Easy says with a smile, handing both Ringo and Kira a glass of champagne, leaning in to kiss Kira on the cheek. “You look amazing, congratulations.” Ringo can see that there’s nothing but warmth between Easy and Kira, and it makes him feel a little guilty, both for misleading Kira and for asking Easy to do this in the first place.

“I am so glad you could both make it,” Kira says with a smile, and Easy slips an arm around Ringo’s waist, looking up at him with such a fond intimacy that Ringo can think nothing but you deserve more than this. “I think I have to get congratulated by my in-laws, but I’ll see you guys later.” Kira says, squeezing Ringo’s hand before moving to the other side of the room.

They stand there for a while, not doing anything besides drinking champagne and occasionally glancing around. “So, what do you want to do?” Ringo says eventually. Easy shrugs, twisting his champagne glass around in his fingers. “We could eat something, if you’re hungry.” Ringo is about to reply that he’s not all that hungry when Matteo starts talking through a microphone, and everyone gets to their seat.

Ringo’s Italian is not top notch by any means, but his sister’s rosy cheeks and the soft glances shared between them is enough of an indication that Matteo’s speech is heartfelt and sweet. He then hands the microphone over to Kira, who stands up and starts by thanking everyone for coming. She does the majority of her speech in Italian, but every now and then she says one or two sentences in German, looking over at Ringo every time she does it.

“I thought I would only think of the people I am missing today,” Kira says, and she pauses for a moment, visibly trying to keep herself together, “and whilst I miss my parents, I mostly feel grateful for the people I do have and love.” Her voice wobbles, but she gets through it, continuing to talk.

Ringo wells up so suddenly, he doesn’t realise he’s crying until he feels tears running down his cheeks. He quickly wipes the tears away, but then a sob comes out of his mouth, and he’s unsure of what to do but Easy is by his side, scooting his chair as close to Ringo as he can get, a warm hand on the back of Ringo’s neck, the other hand in Ringo’s. “It’s okay,” Easy whispers, and he leans his forehead against Ringo’s shoulder. Ringo takes a few deep breaths, and then he feels a little calmer. “Thank you.” Ringo says quietly to Easy, his voice breaking slightly. Easy just looks at him, and it feels like there’s nothing Ringo can hide from him, he knows everything is showing on his face. Easy grabs the side of Ringo’s face with his hand and leans in, pressing his lips against Ringo’s cheek, lingering there for a moment. Ringo can feel his eyes fall shut at the touch, a shuddering exhale blowing past his lips. Easy pulls back then, his eyes now also suspiciously shiny, stroking his thumb along Ringo’s cheek a few times. Ringo just nods at him, both to say he’s okay but also because it’s the only thing he can manage.

He hears a few more Italian words and then people are clapping, so they both join in. Once Kira is seated again, everyone continues to talk, drink or eat, and Ringo looks to his side, to Easy. “I’m going to go outside for a bit, get some fresh air. Is that okay?” Easy immediately nods. “Of course. I’ll be right here.”

It’s crisp outside, bordering cold, but Ringo welcomes it. He leans against the outside of the building, head slightly back as he takes a deep breath in. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Kira at the entrance, looking to her left and then spotting Ringo on her right, walking towards him.

“Needed a break?” She asks, coming to stand next to her brother. It probably looks a little funny, Kira in her wedding dress and heels, outside on the streets, with her back against the concrete walls of the hotel, but this is what she does, what she’s always willing to do, to come stand by her brother’s side, and Ringo loves her for it.

“Yeah. You too?” Ringo says, and when they look at each other Ringo simply lifts his arm, and Kira moves closer, hugging Ringo’s side. “We don’t have to talk about them,” Kira says quietly, looking up at Ringo, and Ringo knows she’s trying to protect him, doesn’t want him to be upset. Ringo thinks about it for a while, opens his mouth to say something and then closes it again. “They’d be so fucking proud of you, of who you are.” Ringo then says, and it’s all they need to say. He presses a kiss to Kira’s forehead and pulls her a little closer to him. “You look so happy with Easy.” Kira says, and Ringo says the first thing that comes to his mind, because it feels true. “I am.”

The music from inside gets a little louder and a bit more upbeat, and Kira pulls on his hand with a grin as she walks them back towards the entrance again. “I think it’s time for dancing.” Ringo rolls his eyes at her but grins all the same. When he spots Easy, he’s still sitting at the table he left him at, making small talk in broken English with one of the guests. He has this expression on his face, which Ringo recognizes from when Easy patiently waits for a customer at the kiosk to finish extensively telling him about his day without regard to the line behind them, but his eyes are kind and warm as always. It hits him all over again, how lucky he is to have Easy in his life. How completely ridiculous it is that Ringo managed to lie to his sister about having a boyfriend, and how Easy went along with all of it, having done nothing all day but smile and actually looking like he’s having a good time. But that’s Easy, isn’t it? Kind-hearted and loving. Ringo comes to stand behind him, his hands on Easy’s shoulders. “Scusami, can I steal him from you?” The lady just gives them a smile and Ringo takes that as a yes, pulling Easy to his feet and holding both his hands, walking them onto the dance floor.

They stand at the side of the room together, the music switching to a slow song, Kira and Matteo emerging from the crowd to have their first dance together as a married couple. It’s one of those moments Ringo hates at other weddings, that weird feeling of staring at two people dancing, but at this one he doesn’t mind. He knows there’s a disgustingly sweet expression on his face but he can’t help it, and he figures he’s allowed to be a little softer and affectionate at his sister’s wedding. It’s a simple, slow swaying, and then Matteo leans down to whisper something in Kira’s ear and she laughs, her head thrown back a little, and as they continue to step in circles she hides her smile in Matteo’s shoulder. Kira then grabs Matteo’s hands, both of them stepping out so there’s more distance between them and Kira spins inward, Matteo’s hands on her waist as she dips down with one foot in the air. They remain in that pose whilst the people around them clap, and Ringo whistles on two fingers a few times. He’s smiling broadly, chest warm with adoration for his sister, and when he looks at Easy to see if he thinks the same, Easy is already looking at him.

Easy holds his gaze for a while, a moment that lasts too long to be meaningless, and Ringo can’t bring himself to look away. And then Easy’s eyes drop to Ringo’s lips, but a second later they are interrupted by Matteo, tapping Ringo on the shoulder, and Ringo immediately shakes his hand with a smile, congratulating him on marrying his sister. “I’ll go see if Kira’s got a dance left for me,” Easy says, and the way he looks at Ringo before walking away is just as charged and intense as before.

“I know we don’t know each other very well,” Matteo starts, placing a hand on Ringo’s shoulder, “but I am glad you are here for Kira.” Ringo smiles at him with a nod. “For you both.” Matteo looks a bit surprised at that, but he claps Ringo on the back with a grateful smile, and Ringo can feel his heart kind of squeeze in his chest, knowing that Kira has found someone who can be her family, can give her that sense of safety and grounding, and love her through anything; that’s all Ringo has ever wanted for her.

“She was really excited to see you with your boyfriend,” Matteo says, and when Ringo looks up at him with a funny expression, he points to the other side of the room, where Kira now has her arms around Easy’s shoulders, the two of them quietly talking whilst slowly dancing. Ringo lets out a deep sigh. “That can’t be good.” Matteo laughs at his worried grimace. “I’m sure she’ll go easy on him. She definitely won’t need convincing that he’s completely in love with you.”

Ringo feels his stomach drop, and suddenly he’s more aware of how hot he feels, so he unbuttons his suit jacket and shrugs it off. “Why do you say that?” He asks, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

Matteo gives him a wide grin, pointing both his index fingers to the top half of his face.

“It’s all in the eyes.”

Ringo lets his gaze glide over the room, and when it stops at Easy and Kira, Easy catches his eye. Kira says something into his ear, and a slow grin begins to spread on his face, his dimples popping out and his teeth on show, and it’s more flirty and heated than usual, and Easy quickly winks at him, looking quite satisfied with himself, and then proceeds to continue dancing with Kira as if nothing happened, even though Ringo can feel his heart beating in his throat.

He hangs his suit jacket over the back of a chair and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, excusing himself to Matteo. As Ringo crosses the room in one straight line, his eyes only on Easy, he tries to remind himself that going over now would fit perfectly within the picture, it would help sell the idea of them together to Kira, that it’s only normal for boyfriends to dance at a wedding, but the only thing that feels true is that he is doing this because he wants to.

“Mind if I steal him?” Ringo asks Kira, who steps aside with a grin. “Not at all.” Easy looks a little dazed, his hands mid-air from where they were resting on Kira’s waist, and Ringo steps to him, grabbing Easy’s hands with his own and putting them on his shoulders, his own hands on Easy’s waist. There are a few other people dancing in pairs, and the music slows down a little, the swelling of strings through the speakers, Etta James’ “At Last” flowing through the room. Easy’s hands move from Ringo’s shoulders to around his neck, and he looks up at Ringo, a half smile around his mouth like he’s keeping himself from smiling wide, little crinkles by his eyes.

They’re doing nothing more than stepping around together, swaying, but it’s close and intimate and it feels so good. “So, did Kira interrogate you?” Ringo asks, his voice a low hum in between them. Easy huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “She was just over the moon, about me being here and about you and me finally getting our act together.” Ringo lets his hands glide from the side of Easy’s torso, over his back, clasping them together there. He hums, and Easy licks his lips, seeming hesitant to speak but doing it anyway. “I guess we’re pretty convincing, huh?” Ringo ignores the cold feeling that washes over him, instead looking at Easy, his eyes narrowing as he pretends to think. “I don’t think we’ve done anything that differently than normal.” Easy presses his lips together, smothering a smile which peeks through.

“Only because you’re too chicken to kiss me.” Easy says, and it’s bold and daring, head defiantly held up as he looks at Ringo, the corners of his mouth lifted and his eyes so clearly inviting Ringo, pulling at him. Ringo’s lips part and his gaze flicks down to Easy’s mouth, and when he looks Easy in the eyes again he has a knowing glint in his eye. Ringo purses his lips and shakes his head with a smile, and Easy laughs, fully and audibly, his weight knocking forward as he presses his forehead against Ringo’s shoulder. “Tease.” Ringo murmurs, and he places one hand on Ringo’s shoulder.

Easy kind of stays there, his face tucked into Ringo’s neck, and for a second Ringo thinks something might be wrong, so he looks down, using his hand on Easy’s shoulder to push him back slightly, but then Easy looks up too, and their noses brush together, their smiles dropping as they’re suddenly so much closer than before. Ringo leans his forehead against Easy’s, moving one hand to the side of Easy’s face and the other arm still around his waist.

“Ringo,” Easy whispers, and it sounds like a warning, but Ringo doesn’t want to run from this. “What,” Ringo whispers back, and Easy has his gaze firmly locked on Ringo’s mouth, and for a moment Ringo thinks he’s going to pull back but he moves forward instead, his head angling as he pushes his lips fully against Ringo’s.

And then Ringo’s mind goes blank, feeling nothing except Easy’s warm lips around his own and the slight scratch of Easy’s stubble against his cheek, which tingles all the way down his spine. But then Easy pulls back, both of their eyes opening, and Ringo just pulls on Easy’s waist, moving down to connect their mouths again. It’s like Easy just got the confirmation that Ringo wants this too, and all inclinations to hold back go overboard, instead curling his body to Ringo’s, getting as close as he can, and Easy quietly moans and Ringo can feel the sound vibrate against his lips. Easy’s teeth graze at Ringo’s lips, and his mouth parts until Ringo can taste the champagne fizzing on Easy’s tongue.

They’re fully making out now, on the middle of the dancefloor, completely engrossed in each other. Just when Ringo feels like they might have to continue this somewhere else, the music changes to a much faster song, and Kira and Matteo get pulled onto the dancefloor. Easy is looking at him, breathing heavily. “I, I have to go to the bathroom, excuse me.” He mumbles, and walks off.

Ringo follows him out of the room with his eyes, a frustrated noise stuck in his throat. Then he hears clapping around him, and he joins in, blending in with the circle of people cheering at the happy couple and some other pairs, doing the dance to some song he doesn’t recognize.

He gets tired after a while, and even though most people are now either on the dancefloor or at the bar, Ringo hangs back, sitting at one of the deserted tables in the back. It’s not just that he worries about what’s going through Easy’s mind right now, it’s that everything is not as fun or enjoyable when Easy’s not there, and Ringo can feel himself getting annoyed. When did it get to this? How did he apparently grow so accustomed to equalizing Easy with having a good time, that he didn’t even notice how much he brings to his life until Easy pulls away from him?

It doesn’t take all that long until Kira is standing in front of his table, and Ringo supposes he should have seen that one coming. He isn’t exactly being subtle, sitting by himself on the other side of the room, sulking, and looking like it too. “I saw Easy walk away, everything okay?”

Ringo is about to force a smile and reassure Kira that everything is fine, but decides against it. He sighs. “I don’t know. He said he had to go to the bathroom, but he’s been gone too long for that to be true.” Kira makes an agreeable noise. “Well, he can’t have gone far.” Ringo looks at her questioningly. “We’ve only rented this part of the hotel, the only other place you can go is the roof.”

She points her finger to the ceiling, and Ringo looks up through the glass dome. There’s butterflies in his stomach now, nerves and anticipation swirling together. Kira laughs at his daunted expression and walks over to him, kissing his cheek. “Go get him.” She squeezes his shoulder before walking back to the dancefloor, and Ringo slips away shortly after, walking into the hallway.

There’s a door to his left, which leads to a staircase, and when Ringo gets to the top there’s a small area, the ground covered in gravel, with a few round tables and chairs standing around the glass dome in the middle which illuminates the night. Easy is standing at the edge, and he turns around upon hearing the crunchy sound of Ringo’s feet hitting the gravel. Ringo takes slow steps, until he’s standing by Easy’s side, the both of them looking out at the surrounding buildings towering over them, the dark night sky only visible in small strips and patches.

Ringo hears Easy take a deep breath in, and a long breath out through pursed lips and it feels like he’s getting ready to say something but then he turns to look at Ringo, and when Ringo looks back Easy’s face loses its vigor, and his eyes cast down with a little headshake. “Easy,” Ringo says, waits until Easy looks up at him, “why did you walk away?” “It’s just,” Easy bites the inside of his lip, a pained expression on his face, “it got a little intense. That’s all.”

“Hmm.” Ringo agrees. “A good kind of intense?” Easy looks frustrated, like he’d rather be anywhere else than here right now, having this conversation. “Let’s just head back to the party okay, we’ll have forgotten this once we’re back in Cologne.” Easy nearly spits, bitterly, and when he moves Ringo catches his hand. “Don’t do this.” “Don’t do what? Because none of this is real, Ringo!” Easy shouts now, his voice angry but his eyes hurt. “Did it not feel real?” Ringo shouts back, “because it did to me!” Easy doesn’t say anything, just looks at Ringo, chest rapidly moving up and down. “Easy, please, just-“ Ringo struggles, not even really knowing what he wants to say so he tugs on Easy’s hand, gives Easy enough time and room to walk away if he wants to but he doesn’t, lets himself get closer until they’re pressed against each other, and Ringo holds Easy, folds his arms around him and feels Easy exhale a shuddering breath against Ringo’s chest.

They stay like that for a bit, Ringo rubbing his hands over Easy’s back. Easy lifts his head then, takes a step back. “We shouldn’t have done this. Not like this.” Ringo doesn’t hesitate for a single second, taking Easy’s hands in his own. “Listen to me. Don’t think about Kira, or the wedding, or whatever we said before this. We’re not pretending anything right now. In this moment, we’re two friends standing on a rooftop in Milan. Okay?” Easy nods, and Ringo grabs his face in both hands and kisses him, gentle and slow, until he can feel Easy melt against him, his hands on the sides of Ringo’s torso.

When Ringo pulls back it’s genuinely because he needs to take a breath, not because he wants to stop, and he keeps Easy close, mere centimetres between their faces. “I liked you being my boyfriend.” Ringo says, his mouth curved into a smile, and Easy grins dazedly. “So did I. But your free trial is over.” Ringo raises his eyebrows. “Oh really?” Easy nods at him with a teasing smile. “So do I need to start paying a monthly fee now, or could I just ask you out?” Easy softens, putting his arms around Ringo’s neck. “Let’s go on a date.” Ringo nods enthusiastically and Easy laughs, even as Ringo kisses him deeply, the fact that they’re both aware they’re kissing each other because they want to only making them more eager. “Mm,” Easy makes a noise against Ringo’s lips, placing a flat palm against his chest, continuing in a whisper, “I do have to admit, I might already love you a little bit.” A wide smile spreads on Ringo’s face. “Good. I think I do too.” He has barely said the words before Easy kisses him, their mouths barely touching through their smiles.

When they get back to the dance floor, Kira shoots Ringo a smirk, which Ringo returns, letting his sister think what she wants, knowing that whatever it is she thinks happened just now, it could never be as good as the real deal. Easy has his hand in Ringo’s, the two of them joining the crowd. They dance along to some of the wedding classics, and Ringo occasionally takes Kira’s hand and spins her around. They probably look ridiculous, and it’s wonderfully silly, and Ringo just feels so happy.

Once most of the guests have left, Ringo walks up to Kira, hugging her and kissing her cheek. “Thank you for a great day, and congratulations again.” She nods at him, and Ringo sees her tear up. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? You know you’re always welcome at ours.” They embrace one more time and Ringo shakes Matteo’s hand whilst Easy says goodbye to Kira.

And then they’re in the taxi back to their hotel, and all of the noise and fuss from the wedding is gone, and Ringo and Easy have nothing except each other, their hands clasped together. It’s maddening, because Ringo has kissed Easy multiple times tonight, which is more than he’s ever done in his lifetime, but it’s all he wants to do now, and if Easy’s gaze is anything to go by, he’s thinking the same thing.

Which is how Ringo ends up pressed against the door of their hotel room, patting his pants to find the key card whilst Easy kisses at his mouth. The door eventually opens, and they stumble in together, Easy walking Ringo backwards until they fall on one of the beds. Easy is now laying on top of Ringo, and he groans into Easy’s mouth at the feeling. “I’ve been wanting to take this suit off of you ever since I first saw you in it.” Easy says lowly, and Ringo puts his hands on Easy’s hips and pulls him closer. “Please.” And so Easy pulls on Ringo’s tie, unbuttons his shirt and unclasps his belt, Ringo taking off the clothes as fast as he can. Ringo does the same for Easy, and then they’re so much closer but not close enough. “Oh,” Ringo says as Easy kisses down his neck, and Easy stops to look at him. “I don’t have anything with me.” Easy laughs softly, bowing his head momentarily. “I thought you were about to break up with me before we’ve even gotten together.”

Ringo flicks Easy’s nose. “Never.” Easy grins at him, connecting their mouths. “So what do we-“ Ringo mumbles in between kisses. “I’m sure we’ll work something out.” Easy says hurriedly, clearly not worried about anything except for getting his hands all over Ringo’s skin, and he slides his tongue into Ringo’s mouth. He rolls his hips against Ringo’s, his breath stuttering. “Fuck,” Ringo whispers, and he surges up to kiss Easy again, following the movements of his hips. Easy grounds down hard then, and Ringo feels his abdomen tightening, reaching a climax shortly after. Easy’s dropping kisses on his face, and Ringo reaches a hand down, palms Easy over his boxers until he’s at the edge, pushing face into Ringo’s collarbone as he rides out the waves.

Easy lets himself fall onto Ringo then, his head on Ringo’s chest as Ringo combs a hand through his hair. “I did not think this day would end like this.” Easy says, and Ringo laughs. “Neither did I.” There’s a pause. “I’m glad it did though.” Easy presses a kiss to Ringo’s neck. “So am I.”

The flight back to Cologne is similar to the one to Milan; Easy cuddles up to Ringo as soon as they’re seated, and they share a pair of headphones. Only difference being that they now have something to look forward to, and it makes it odd to part ways when they arrive home as they drop their suitcases in separate apartments.

Ringo is sitting on the edge of his bed with zero desire to unpack his luggage straight away, letting himself fall back on his bed. A few moments later the door opens slightly, Easy poking his head through. “Hey.” He says shyly, hovering by the door as if he’s not sure if Ringo wants him here, but Ringo just extends his arms out to him, making grabbing motions with his hands and Easy walks over with a grin, lying next to Ringo with one arm slung over Ringo’s stomach and his head on Ringo’s chest.

“Easy?” Ringo asks, and Easy hums. “What do you want to do on our first date?” Easy laughs a little, a warm puff of air against Ringo’s shirt. “You don’t waste any time, do you.” “Have you changed your mind already?” Ringo says jokingly, poking Easy’s stomach. “Of course not,” Easy says, lifting his head and resting his chin on Ringo’s chest so he’s looking at him, “but what’s the rush? We’ve got time.” Ringo smiles lovingly, looking at Easy like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world, because he is. Those brown eyes are starting to feel like home, and Ringo leans forward to press a kiss against Easy’s lips. “You’re right,” Ringo whispers, and Easy lays his head down again, nestling further into Ringo’s side with a content sigh. “Or we could just stay like this forever.” Easy murmurs, and Ringo can’t think of a place he would rather be.

#ringsy #ringo x easy #ringo beckmann #easy winter #unter uns #lisa writes fic

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hillywooddestiel · 7 years ago

Text

The Real Royal Highness

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x reader, Matteo (ofc), reader’s parents, Neil (ofc)

Warnings: fluff, teensy bit of angst

Word count: 2.6k (Woah!)

@bemyqueenofdarkness asked:

Hey! I saw that your requests were open so.. Here is one! How about a Tom Hiddleston x Reader, where the reader is part of the royal british family, which was always treated different, like a royal, but she only wants to be famous for his classic singing and treated like everyone else. So what if Tom meets her in one of her concerts in some high society event, and fells in love with her voice, and without knowing who she really is, goes to talk to her.. (I will send another ask with the rest )

Hi again! (?) So when Tom goes to talk to her, she thinks he is going to be like every other man that just interested in her title, but Tom proves her wrong, and the reader realize that he doesn’t know who she really is, so at the end she accepts the invitation to a date from Tom and doesn’t tell him the truth until their date its finally over, and idk, its ends all fluffy and stuff? So.. That its, I hope you really like it, feel free to change whatever you want, and I love your writing! Bye<3

A/N: Another request! I had a lot of fun with this one hence the massive fic. I’ve wanted to write Tom Hiddleston for the longest time so I think this is a good place to start. Also, I have a challenge on right now but only one entry so far so if you would like to enter please message me. Another thing, this fic could be set at any time but for the purposes of a smaller age gap it is set in 2012 xx Masterlist

Story:

I stare blankly into my own eyes in the mirror, lost in my own mind, whilst my stylist braids my hair into the perfectly regal updo to match with my simple yet elegant (and most importantly, rule abiding) makeup. And it all has to flow with the gown that I’ve had fitted: sky blue with a floral detailed bodice and a silk organza train falling from the off-shoulder sleeves. Mother had to approve it all first, of course. Check that no royal faux pas was being made.

“Perfetto mia cara!” Matteo spritzes my hair one last time with hairspray with a wide grin. I can only smile meekly in return, my nerves getting the better of me. He notices, having stared at and studied my face in the mirror for most of my life, and squeezes my shoulder encouragingly. “You have the voice of an angel my darling, they will love you.”

“It’s not my voice that I’m worried about.”

“I know, it is daunting, yes. But, you have been raised for this and I know for a fact that you are ready. And don’t tell the others but you are the most gorgeous princess around.” Matteo assures me, giggling a little. He’s right, about being raised for this. I’ve had lessons from the age of two on public etiquette and persuading the people to like me, it’s just that my time in the spotlight has come much later than most others in the family.

My family are not in direct line for the throne. Far from it. In fact, I think that my father is 15th in line and I come in behind at 16th. For this reason, my family are rarely in the public eye which in turn means that I am pretty much a mystery to most people. They heard the news when I was born and bought the gossip magazines with the first few photos of my childhood but then I dropped off the radar- until now. Mother (and a couple of my uncles and aunties) decided that 26 years was long enough for me to stay quiet and so tonight is a debutante ball of sorts. I will be presented to both my wider family and the world press this evening as Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, eldest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of York and eligible for marriage. That last part, I’m not happy about at all. I’ve barely travelled, I haven’t done most things that other 26 year olds have like clubbing or going to music festivals and I never got the chance to pursue my real dream of being a world class singer.

As a young child, I fell in love with classical music and the opera as well as musicals and playing the piano. I loved music. Mother would sit in her armchair with my baby sister in her knee as I played the family’s grand piano and Father and I would sing the duet. It was like something out of a cheesy Christmas movie. I always wanted to perform though, following in the footsteps of Catherine Jenkins and Maria Callas. However, being royalty meant that I could never do it. I wasn’t allowed to drop everything ‘just to sing’ as Mother put it. It took weeks of begging and convincing before she said yes to me singing tonight. Still, the dream lives on within me.

“Sweet pea, it’s me.” Mother taps on the door. I open it myself, watching the tears well up in her eyes as she looks at me. “Darling, you look wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you Mother. Is it time to start?”

“Almost. Many of the guests are arriving just now so we’ll wait a few minutes before finally introducing you. Are you ready?”

“I think so. Father’s not making a speech is he?” I ask with a moan, having suffered through many of them in the past.

“I would imagine so, yes.” She laughs, opening her arms to give me a hug.

“I love you.” I whisper, holding onto her tightly like in a little child again.

“I love you too sweet pea.”

“Are you ready?” The conductor approaches me and I can only nod. There are a lot of people in the ballroom at the moment and they are all waiting on me to start my performance. The pianist gets seated whilst the string orchestra run their bows along the strings to warm up, the choir take their places and the conductor takes his place behind his music stand. Fiddling nervously with my own hands, I step up to the microphone, all eyes seemingly turning to me. It’s now or never. The first bars of Habanera begin to play and I count them in my head, listening and waiting for my cue to begin. And when I do… it’s like all of my nerves dissipate. I close my eyes eyes and pour all of my emotions into the song without hesitation, getting lost in the music and just having fun with the uplifting beat. I even manage to smile. I finish the final note on a high, raising my arms in the air with a grin from ear to ear. Everybody in the ballroom immediately erupts into applause, thankfully. A little girl walks up to me and hands me a large bouquet of red roses. I thank her before promptly joining my parents and sister.

In need of some fresh air, I make my way outside to the gardens. They’re always beautiful at nighttime with candles flickering in hanging glass lanterns and reflecting off of the many ponds and fountains, wildflowers lining the paths in perfect disorder, fruit trees releasing their blossom into the air like pink snow getting ready to grow their crops and a peaceful silence after all the wildlife has gone to bed.

“Pardon me, might I join you?” An unfamiliar voice asks from behind. It’s a young man, possibly my age or maybe a little older, with short blond curls and stunning blue eyes. He’s tall and friendly looking, a sharp black tuxedo fitted to his slender body. My memory isn’t the best but his face is far from generic.

“Of course you may.” I flash him a charming smile, not too much teeth as Mother would have scolded me for.

“You were beautiful earlier, your singing. Your voice is very impressive for someone so young.” he compliments me, nothing I haven’t heard before, not to sound narcissistic. They tell me I should tour the world and share my talent with the world like that’s not what I’ve been trying to do for the past ten years.

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” My response sounds a little flat.

“Sorry for the terrible ice breaker. I’m Tom.” He reaches out a hand for me to shake. Now that can only mean one thing. Normally, anyone of a lower status must address me as ‘your Highness’ and bow. Everyone else at this event has done so for they now know who I am. Tom must not know who I am.

This is fantastic! Somebody genuine to talk to. I can ignore all of that formal nonsense and just talk like a human being, that’s all I’ve ever wanted!

“It’s nice to meet you Tom. I’m Y/N.” Still no realisation. How clueless is he?

“What a beautiful name!” He smiles sweetly, stepping closer to stand next to me, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, ask away.”

“What is this evening celebrating? I have no idea.” What?! How can he not know? This is good though. I can keep him in the dark for a little longer. Lying is never a good thing but in this case, I think I’ll allow an exception.

“It is a musical showcase of sorts, I suppose. May I ask how you could possibly be here without the faintest clue of what is happening?” I turn to look into those magical eyes of his. I imagine in better lighting I would be able to see him blushing to match with his adorably shy smile.

“Truthfully, I was invited last minute by a friend. I’ve been out of the country for a long time and he called to ask me to join him. Never told me what the event was, my only instruction was to dress extremely formally.” Tom gestures to the tuxedo, fiddling with the bow tie for emphasis. Knowing who he is, I can only assume that the trip abroad involved film cameras and all the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

“How thrilling. Is this your first time in the presence of royalty?” I can’t help but smirk at the irony of my question.

“No. Though it is my first at a royal residence. Previously my meetings with them have been at theatres and benefits. What about yourself?” he now asks me a question, a genuine look of curiosity in his eyes.

“I have been known to entertain members of the royal family quite regularly actually.”

“I can understand why. You really are a remarkable performer.” Now it is my turn to blush, knowing that he truly means it and there is no ulterior motive at play.

“Thank you, you are very kind. Would you like to continue this conversation on a walk around the gardens? They really are quite lovely.”

“I would be honoured.”

I have never been so excited in all my life! Tom actually asked me to dinner at the end of the evening and here I am in the car, driving to the restaurant like a normal person. Well, half normal: I’m not actually driving myself, the driver is, we’re in an incognito black car and there’s a personal guard in the front passenger seat who will be watching the whole evening from across the venue but other than that, this is the most normal my life will probably ever get. Mother was hesitant to let me go at first meanwhile Father couldn’t have been more thrilled (he’s always been excited at the prospect of grandchildren). The restaurant comes into view through the blacked out windows and the butterflies go wild within my stomach. Neil, the guard, leaps out and opens my door with a small bow before following me inside, close enough to protect me but not too close to arouse any suspicion. As promised, Tom is there waiting for me in the foyer.

“Y/N, you look wonderful!” He greets me with a kiss to the cheek, referring to my dress of choice for the evening.

“So do you. Shall we get to our table?”

“Yes let’s.”

Dinner is as close to perfect as I think it can be. Tom is charming, the food is delicious and if it weren’t for Neil watching from the corner table I think we’d be doing more than just occasionally holding hands. It’s nothing flashy like a horse ride through the gardens and I don’t have my parents watching from the balcony- it’s just so normal. I’ve been on very few dates so I have very little experience with the kind of small talk that’s expected but Tom more than makes up for it. We just click instantly and the topic of conversation flows with ease from work to upbringings to where we want to travel. I never really have to lie about myself, I just leave out some of the truth that would lead to him figuring out who I really am. I never want tonight to end.

Tom walks with me to the foyer, draping my coat over my shoulders and holding onto my hand. Neil gets up shortly after we do, following four feet behind us.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, thank you.”

“I did too. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if we could do this again.” Tom mentions coyly.

“Are you asking me on a second date Mr Hiddleston?” I reciprocate his playful attitude.

“I believe I am.”

“Your Highness, I don’t mean to disturb you but we have a problem.” Neil interrupts, a worrying feeling washing over me in an instant.

“What is it?” I ask him, ignoring Tom for a moment.

“Your Highness?” He parrots in bewilderment; so much for keeping him in the dark.

“Paparazzi spotted outside. Lots of them. The car is parked out the back, we’ll have to go that way.”

“Alright, let’s go.” I sigh. Why do the press have to come and ruin my evening?

We hurry to the car via the kitchens, myself dragging Tom by the hand so that he doesn’t get lost. He’s gone rather quiet which is a little concerning- I hope that he isn’t upset with me. As promised, the car is ready and waiting with the door already opened. Neil ushers myself and Tom into the back before taking his seat in the front.

“Why did he refer to you as your Highness?”

“Because it is a rule that all staff hired by my parents must follow. I don’t really care for it myself.” I explain, trying to remain calm despite the nerves fluttering in my chest.

“Rule? You’re royalty?!” he raises his voice a little, getting rather hysterical for a minute.

“Yes. It’s fine that you didn’t know, hardly anyone did until the ball. It was too re-introduce me to society and to the public eye.”

“You’re Lady Y/N of York…”

“Correct.”

“Wow…” Tom takes a second to think, sinking back into his seat. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because when I tell people, it’s all they want to talk about, it’s all they see me as. You’re the first person to ever treat me as just an ordinary person.” I confess, staring down at our still intertwined hands. It’s true, whenever I’ve told somebody that I’m of royal descent they change how they are around me immediately and the conversation turns fake. Or they’ll come knowing what I am and they won’t care about me, just the title they could potentially procure from marrying me.

“… Well… I’ve gotten to know the real you tonight and she’s wonderful.”

My driver takes us back to my home, a normal sight for me but I imagine it’s quite daunting for Tom. I squeeze his hand in encouragement as I spot Father stood by the front doors. Neil opens my door again and I step out, bringing Tom with me.

“Darling, are you alright?” Father comes closer, sweeping me into a hug and I have to let go of Tom’s hand for a moment.

“I’m fine daddy, honestly.” I reassure him as he places a kiss on my head.

“And who is this young man?” he spots Tom shuffling from foot to foot behind me.

“This is Tom. My date from this evening.”

“A pleasure to meet you, your Highness.” He nods his head and shakes Father’s hand warmly.

“It’s good to meet you too. I’ve arranged a car for you to take you back to your own home. Between you and me, the beds in this house are a little uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Tom laughs, glancing to me. Father bids us both goodnight before turning inside.

“I think he likes you.” I giggle, standing in front of Tom.

“So is there still a chance of a second date?” he asks. I gaze up at him before leaning up on my tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Most definitely, yes.”

#tom x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #rpf #marvel rpf #royal au #fluff #angst #marvel fic #hillywooddestiel #reader insert #avengers #avengers x reader

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smolfangirl · 6 years ago

Text

A little fresa story IV

A certain ring to it

I know I always said I would never write this kind of prompt/au but I found an old silly idea I had back in April and I couldn’t resist fight me and it turned out to be a lot of fun while writing. Blame, eh, I mean Thanks go out to @huffletiika who didn’t know better than to encourage me - girl, you should stop me next time, my multichap feels neglected again ^^

Also a call out for @miris-xo because she called me out, I promise I am done writing this whole thing backwards now!

Another thing, because it was brought up several times now: @ac-ars and @sky-girls used the name Rory first. I used my own brain to end up with this name (also because of my roommate who is obsessed with Gilmore Girls and keeps trying to talk me into watching it), which is why I didn’t give them any credit.

Word count: 2.8k

///

„Luna, do you have any plans for tonight?“ Matteo asks her over breakfast. He knows the answer already, but he has to focus on keeping his tone as casual as possible and that takes too much effort to come up with a smoother, less obvious question.

Luckily for him, his girlfriend doesn’t suspect a thing. “No, I don’t. Do you have anything in mind?”

“I thought maybe we could go skating together. It’s been a while.”

Almost two months, to be exact. His tour is to blame, the small amount of time they spent together in between concerts was never enough for elaborated plans. But now he gets to chill for two weeks before the last part of the tour demands him to leave the country.

Those two weeks are just enough time to finally follow through with his plan.

Luna smiles at him while she steals the jar with her mom’s marmalade out of his hands. “Skating sounds great. And dinner, maybe? We haven’t been at my mom’s restaurant in ages.”

For a second, Matteo blinks at her, frozen in his surprise. Dinner wasn’t part of his plan, let alone in her mom’s restaurant. He needs this evening to be perfect, not the tiniest detail can go wrong, he only has this one shot and the added pressure of having her parents around is something he’d gladly miss out on.

But one deep breath later, he relaxes and sends her a smirk. “Only if you don’t step on my feet or make us kiss the ground.”

“Excuse me?” she shouts, her mouth half full of toast. She hastily swallows, and the grin on his face deepens. “I am the world champion! And do I need to remind you I won not only one, but two Olympic gold medals? The only thing you might kiss is my ass.”

“You’re a retired world champion, that’s different. And who knows what the break did to you and your skating skills.” Pleased with himself, he reaches out for the fruit plate and begins to nibble on a strawberry.

Luna watches his every move, her eyes turn into slits and never leave him, even when she takes a sip from her tea cup. The morning sun reflects in the green of her iris, adding a vivid, capturing sparkle to it.

“Did the truth take your breath away, chica delivery?”

A snort follows. “You wish, chico fresa. I’m just not sure how to tell you that one day, I’ll marry someone who supports me and is there for me and doesn’t mock me first thing in the morning. You’ll see, and then you’ll be very sorry.” Two strawberries land in her mouth and she munches on them with a wink in his direction, however her laugh sounds so happy and genuine, Matteo can’t possibly get mad or annoyed at her.

“Guess I’ll have to get you pregnant first then, so you can’t just leave me like that.”

“Because that worked out so well so far, huh? Besides, I could still leave you when I’m pregnant. Maybe I will.”

(Sometimes, when she’s about to win one of their banters, he misses young Luna. The sweet, innocent girl who stared at him speechlessly if he teased her enough. She’d blush, and he smirked at her and considered stealing a kiss or two. The Luna in front of him, however, stopped taking any shit long ago. She’s still kind and a ray of sunshine in his life, but also fiercer, more empowered, and braver than ever.

So, if he’s honest to himself, does he really miss the old times?)

His hand settles on his chest while he gasps and lets the spoon whirling through his coffee fall back into the cup. “No! You’d really take my baby fresa away from me? Oh, how cruel the moon can be!” With a heavy sigh, he pretends to faint on his chair before he joins Luna’s laughter.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, the snort she intends to send him turns into yet another giggle. “Jeez, if our kid is half as dramatic as you are, I might end up as the busiest mom on this planet.”

“And if it’s only half as mean as you are, I’ll consider myself the luckiest man on earth.”

Luna sticks her tongue out at him.

///

They spend the rest of their breakfast over more lighthearted banter. Now that he’s back by her side, at least for a while, Luna is in an extraordinarily good moon, and Matteo soaks it up like a sponge. Her smile gives him hope for tonight, her gentle touches are a silent promise and the kiss she gives him tells him how much she loves him. It’s exactly what he needs to soothe his fears, because sometimes his mind wanders, imagining all the ways this night could go wrong.

Of course, she notices when he’s not answering or stares at her without saying a single word. She notices, but she doesn’t ask why, just like he doesn’t spill a hint or blurts out the question already.

“You know I’d rather go back to bed with you than to see my parents,” Matteo admits as he puts on his jacket, the one that feels too heavy with the small box hidden in a pocket.

Luna tucks his scarf in, then lets her hand glide over her chest. “We can still do that tomorrow. Your parents are probably super happy to see you again, and I gotta visit Simón anyway, he seems to have some kind of writer’s block or something. And tonight, it’s just me and you, okay?”

Just you and me and a ring that costed me more than you’d want to know.

“Sure. Greet him from me, yeah? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

///

“Did I tell you already how beautiful you are, my little moon?” She is, indeed. Radiant and smiling and taking his breath away in this dress he likes so, so much on her. A fairy-tale princess has nothing on her, every detail of her outfit and her make-up ended up perfect, as if she knew his plan wasn’t just skating.

“Just 300 times already,” she smirks, “but I don’t mind you repeating it.”

With a chuckle, he caresses her cheek before he presses a kiss on her forehead. In return, she grants him a smile so soft, his heart sighs happily in his chest. For a moment, he’s sure this evening will be perfect, no matter what happens. Because he is with her, and with her by his side, he can do everything.

“You look pretty handsome yourself too, chico fresa.”

“Oh, I’m glad you noticed! I showered only for you, princesa.”

“What a great honor,” Luna snickers while she puts their skating gear into the back of her car. “Maybe I’ll even let you sleep in the bed then.”

Sneaking the car keys out of her hands paints a pout on her face, so he bops her nose and presses little kisses on her skin until she smiles again. “Really?” he mumbles, “Perhaps I should shower more often if I get to sleep…”

Her fingers wrap around his palm, reaching for the keys, and he has to grab her hand in order to stop her. “Uh oh, I don’t think so.”

“Matteo… don’t you wanna go home?”

Yes. No. I don’t know.

His vision blurs at her question, his heartbeat picks up until it’s the only sound in his ears. The right side of his jacket seems to wear him down, like an anchor dropped in an ocean of rejection and loneliness, pulling him deeper and deeper. A thousand thoughts pass him by, rush past him before he can get a hold on them.

What if this is too simple?

After all, she got bigger love declarations from him before. Fancy ones, with bouquets of flowers almost her size, declarations in front of the whole world, immortal on his albums. This time, there’s no stage, no flowers, no cameras. Not even his guitar.

Just him.

Because he wants her to see him, to listen to him, to say Yes to him and only him. With all his flaws, his imperfections, his mistakes.

But she loves him already, no? Through day and night, she’s been there, and she’ll love him no matter what.

Matteo takes a deep breath and finds her gaze on him, expectant. Waiting. “No. I want to go to the park.”

“Now?” She glances up at the sky. It’s a dawn in early Spring, crisp but clear, and above them the sun paints shades of rosé and soft blue into the sky. Next to her appears the moon, accompanied by the first stars and the view is stunning in its perfection.

Matteo smiles. “Yes, now.”

Her hand accepts his lead, although some hesitation still lingers in her voice. “Aren’t you afraid there’ll be paparazzi?”

“Nah. There’s this huge movie premiere tonight and they’d be dumb to not be gathered there. Tonight, no one cares about me and you.”

“Thank the stars,” Luna sighs, and he can’t help but chuckle at the relieved sigh she lets out. “I am sick of all the paparazzi and these stupid magazines article. According to them we’d have what, a whole skating team of babies now?”

They cross the street and find themselves in a corner of the park, still far away from the place he intends to go to, so he allows himself to dive into the topic. “Don’t forget all the times I cheated on you.”

“Right. By the way, did you know we’re not a couple anymore?”

“Really?”

She wraps her arm around his back, pressing herself closer to him. Perhaps the little breeze gets under her jacket and she only wants to feel the heat his body radiates, nonetheless, her gesture warms his heart. “Yeah, I finally broke up with you because I couldn’t stand that you were away on tour while I am also four months pregnant according to… ah, I don’t remember which magazine spread that rumor.”

Matteo inhales sharply, half stopping in his tracks as he stares down at her. “Damn! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have taken you out for skating then.”

“My bad,” she grins, “I only heard of it yesterday morning. So, surprise, I guess?”

For a few seconds, he manages to keep the shocked expression on his face, but then they both break into laughter and it doesn’t matter that they scare some pigeons away who take off into the dawn.

He pulls her into a hug, pecking her hair while he whispers, “I’m so glad I get to be with you, Luna.”

“I love you, chico fresa.”

“I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“No.”

He’s about to answer when her fingers in his sides demand attention, out of nowhere they pester him, tickle him without mercy or caution. Back and forth, left and right, back and forth, he tries to avoid them, and it takes a while for him to escape her attacks.

Catching his breath, he’s about to complain how cruel the moon once again was, when he spots it.

The bridge. Still painted red, still surrounded by the ponds full of fish and water lilies.

Trying to ignore the adrenaline immediately flooding his veins, Matteo leads Luna closer until her eyes widen in recognition. “Remember that?” he asks, smiling.

///

“How could I forget this place?” Luna asks. She turns away from him, her hand running over the railing as the memories start to play. They were so young, so in love, and so hopeful for the future. Not all these hopes grew the wings to take off into the world, some crashed under life’s pressure, some never even made it off the ground.

But they’re still together.

In the end, that’s what matters to her, that she can count on him like he can lean on her, and that they made it through everything life threw at them.

Luna wants to ask him if he thinks there’s any chance of rain when she faces him, but the words die on her tongue.

Matteo kneels in front of her.

A box in his hands.

A ring box.

She gasps. She gasps, and she clasps her hands over her mouth and tries to remember how to breathe regularly, and he’s kneeling in front of her.

“Matteo…” A breathless whisper into the night, barely audible.

“I do love you more, Luna. I started to love you the day we first met, and there hasn’t been a single moment since then where I didn’t love you. I…” he takes a deep breath, a little crease hushes over his forehead as he searches for the right words, not that it makes any difference, because she can already feel the first teardrops on her cheek either way.

“I love your strength, and your kindness, and how you never give up on something that matters to you. Or someone. You’ve never given up on me, even when it would have been the easier way. You never gave up on me or us, and there are no words for how grateful I am for that. And I’m sorry, I promise I had a whole speech prepared but…”

“It’s okay,” she quickly says, although her voice doesn’t come off smoothly or loudly, and she has to wipe more tears away. Tear after tear, while a part of her isn’t even sure yet if this is real.

The smile Matteo sends her almost knocks her off her feet, it’s too much for her trembling knees and racing heart, it’s too much. “I love you, Luna. To the moon and back. Don’t tell Gastón I said that. But I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His fingers fumble with the box.

Her breath hitches.

And then she sees the ring, this huge blue plastic ring that sparkles, and a laugh erupts from the deepest corner of her lungs and stomach. It mixes with sobs and a shake of her head, she can barely see him now, but she’s sure he’s grinning.

“You really kept that old thing?”

“Of course I did,” he promptly admits, “But…” His fingers reach out to her, silently ask for her attention. Her laugh ends in a small hiccup, which none of them notices because he pulls the ring out to reveal a beautiful, beautiful silver ring.

A ring meant only for her.

“Will you marry me, Luna?”

///

Their chica fresa escaped through the bedroom door. For a toddler, and one who hasn’t learned how to walk yet, she shows an amazing speed and Luna would admire it if she didn’t have to focus on catching her little runaway.

With a sigh, she rushes into the hallway, ready to collect that troublemaker, but before she takes one more step, her husband walks around the corner, a fidgeting Rory in his arms. “Your esposo fresa caught a wild crawling toddler in the living room - could that be our daughter trying to stay awake past her bedtime?”

“Looks very much like it, yes.” Looking at her daughter, Luna adds, “Aren’t you tired, darling?”

At the same time, little Aurora yawns loudly, making her parents snicker in amusement. It’s not the first time she pretends to be wide awake, and it’s definitely not the first time she is in fact very, very exhausted and ready for bed either.

Luna follows Matteo back into the bedroom. He’s already humming Rory’s favorite lullaby, a simple song he wrote for her months ago, and it takes all her self-control for Luna to not climb into their bed and space out in a heartbeat.

Her daughter whines in her crib a bit longer, but when the temptation to sleep takes over, they leave her alone.

Three minutes later, Luna dozes next to Matteo on the couch.

“Please promise me you’re not gonna spend our honeymoon with sleeping,” Matteo snickers while he pulls her into his arms and dims the noise of the TV.

She shifts until her head rests on his lap, this warm and gently moving pillow that fits her perfectly, and sighs. “I won’t.”

“Of course not.” It almost sounds like he doesn’t want to tease her.

“Matteo?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for putting her to bed.”

Slowly, his hand begins to crawl over her back, in delicate lines and circles over her spine, and she thinks she never wants to move ever again. “Sure, little moon.”

“Guess after all I really married someone who supports me.”

A huff follows and for a moment, his touch leaves her. Luna groans. “But you said I’ll be sorry then, and I’m not,” Matteo states, before she groans again and his fingers return to caress her. With eyes half shut, she blinks up at him. The slightest smile tugs on the corner of his mouth and when he notices her gaze on him, it turns into a wide grin.

“Me neither,” she admits. And she means it with all her heart.

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #a little fresa story #all this research for the last scene made me so weak again for babies #how dare they be so cute??#the son of our neighbours? A ray of sunshine #he smiled at me and my mushy brain immediately felt better #anyway I am babbling now

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evakuality · 5 years ago

Note

30. Astral for Davenzi or any other pairing you want to write about

Dear anon, I know it has been a VERY long time since you sent this in but I finally managed to write something. The one where it’s very late and Matteo gets philosophical and talkative.

‘Astral - of or relating to the stars’

They’re lying on their backs in the still of a quiet night. It’s just the two of them in the apartment and it’s far too late. David has pushed the bed right up against the open window so they can lie on it, heads at the window end, tilted backwards so they can see the dark expanse outside. The breeze wafting in over them and the endless darkness of the night makes it feel like the night is right inside the room with them. Or they’re outside with it.

Matteo’s in that soporific state, somewhere between waking and sleeping, and he’s feeling philosophical. It’s not exactly normal for him, but there’s something about the time of the night (seeping inexorably into the earliest of mornings rather than the latest of nights), the slow soft haze of the weed that’s dissipating into the air around them, and the peace of being here with David that settles him and makes him want to talk. To confess.

“Astral,” he breathes, not wanting to disturb the silence of the night around them, in the hush of the dark apartment, but needing to press this one thought as deep in under David’s skin as he can.

“Hmmmm?”

David’s voice is a humming blur, tempered presumably by those same things that drag at Matteo and make him feel heavy and weightless all at once. He turns his head, tilting to look at Matteo, who can’t help the tiny smile David’s face always pulls onto his own.

“Of or relating to stars,” Matteo tries to clarify. He lifts one arm to point backwards up behind his head at the glittering mass barely visible in the distance, almost drowned out by the glittering lights of the city below them except for two stars shining brighter than the others against the fuzzy indistinct haze of the rest. From this angle, the city is muted, its lights a mere glow pushing the stars back into the background but not able to extinguish them entirely, particularly not those two.

David’s eyes follow where he’s pointing, and when Matteo glances over at him there’s a crease between his brows as he tries to understand. It’s one thing Matteo has grown to love about David. The fact that even when Matteo drifts into some fancy of his own, David will try to follow after him. That when Matteo allows these uncoordinated, sloppy thoughts to escape the cage of his brain that David never shuts him down.

He’s not used to letting his innermost thoughts free to fly, has so often tried to fit his thoughts and feelings into what he thinks people most want to hear, so the fact that David gives him the space to do it, to let his own thoughts play out in all their imperfect honesty even when he can’t articulate it in a way that’s meaningful, is always a blessing. One that Matteo will always hold dear to his heart.

Even so, Matteo feels the need to articulate these thoughts somewhat better than he has so far. He wants David to know and understand what he’s trying to say. So he tucks his arm down and under his chin and turns to look at David, shifting his body in a way that draws David’s eyes after him. His body then follows in a slow dance that shows just how attuned they are at this time of day when no-one else exists and they’ve been sharing space and breath together for hours on end.

They lie like that for a moment or two, mirrored partners suspended in the calm of the moment. Then Matteo reaches out and touches David’s face and his eyes flicker shut.

“It’s like the stars, they’re out there shining, right?” he says reverently, watching the expressions flit over David’s face as he whispers. Marvelling, as always, in the way his face can say so much even when he doesn’t speak, even when his eyes are closed like this. “But we can’t really see them or know them.” David nods, a small tilt of his chin. Just enough to let Matteo know he’s still paying attention even as his breath starts to even out and he knows he’s getting close to sleep.

“It’s like you and me.”

By now, and despite the tiniest of hums that he gives when Matteo stops, Matteo is almost sure David’s fallen asleep but he keeps talking, letting his thoughts wash over his boyfriend, hoping the words give him gentle dreams. Hoping that he feels at least some of what Matteo wants to convey. His fingers trail the softest of lines over David’s face as he whispers.

“I wanted somewhere to fit for the longest time,” he admits to the still of the night, voice barely a breath as he listens to the slow cadence as David's breaths settle further into sleep. “Somewhere I didn’t have to explain who I was or why I was, where I could just be.”

He huffs a small laugh, quietly so as not to disturb David. Watching his own fingers where they press against the lips that have slipped open, showing a hint of David’s teeth under the slow slide of Matteo’s finger as it runs along that beloved face, feeling the relaxed release of that breath as David sleeps. “I felt like that, like the stars out there, distant and unknown. Unknowable. Pushing always against what everyone else was doing and feeling.”

He’s philosophising, Matteo knows, but isn’t inclined to stop. Not in this soporific state, not in this time that’s more earliest morning than latest night. Not here with David, warm and pliant under his touch. David shifts under his fingers and he withdraws them, letting them drop to sit on David’s shoulder, the warmth of the skin a pleasant reminder of how vivid and alive and real David is. Even in sleep he has this effect on Matteo, makes him feel like he’s more. More real, more genuine, more alive. He lets that thought out in a puff of breath, desperate not to shatter the peace he’s found here looking at David this way.

“Then I met you, and you showed me I can be bright. I can be myself and even if people can’t see and know me, it’s okay. I can know myself. And you.” Matteo tilts his head up again to look up and out the window, to see the two stars again, shining brighter than the rest, pushing back against the light from the city below that tries to hide so much of the stars’ power. He smiles. Settles down into the bed, under the covers as he pulls them up and over both of them. Like the stars above them, they can shine against any other lights, against anything that tries to drown out who they truly are. He doesn’t need to fit in anywhere else, Matteo thinks. Not when he’s here and he’s able to share these small parts of who he really is with this boy.

Maybe he couldn’t have said all that while David was awake, Matteo doesn’t know how far philosophy might have taken him. But he does know that it doesn’t matter. It’s a truth, and the one who really needs to hear it is himself. He’s spent so much time trying to be the city lights without really understanding that he can be something else entirely.

David shifts as the cover is tucked over him, slipping closer, tangling his feet with Matteo’s and pulling him into a tight embrace even in his sleep. Matteo smiles as he settles into those arms which pull him close even while David sleeps on, making the space for him no matter what else is happening.

Matteo drifts off while thinking about how he doesn’t have to fit in with all the other lights in order to shine. He can be astral. Of or relating to the stars. That’s all he needs for peace: David, and that confession to his own self.

#druck #og druck #my fic stuff #my prompt stuff #davenzi #Anonymous

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mrschangrettawrites · 7 years ago

Text

Hell Hath No Fury

Summary: You had been betrayed for the last fucking time

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Reader (formerly), Tommy Shelby x Grace (mentioned), Luca Changretta x Reader (main)

Words: 1531

Notes: Spoilers for season four, female reader, I should be working on other things but instead I’m doing this. Drag me. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

I also want to say thank you all so much for the love and support that all of you have shown for this story! It really was unexpected and so so appreciated, honestly it has made me all the more motivated to get these out! I hope you all enjoy!

Tagging: @timeless-flogging @decaffeinatedeaglefart @goghadventuring @sophspark @possiblyafangirl @buckybarnesisalittleshit @aya-fay if you would like to be tagged in future chapters just send in a message!

One//Two//Three

CHAPTER FOUR

It had taken what felt like forever to calm down Curly, and assure him that despite the gunshots, you were perfectly safe. The Italian that had been sent after you had managed to escape, which was partly true, and left him to tend to Diamond and her broken stall. Although you had given him some shreds of truth, you still felt bad for lying to Curly. He was a good sort, odd, but good, and always gentle with the horses.

Matteo had been able to sneak back to his car while you distracted Curly and you met him two blocks away where he proceeded to drive you to the hotel where he and his brothers were staying. The ride was silent and tense, and you kept one hand on your gun the whole way, but you had a feeling that Matteo would see this through. If nothing else, delivering the wife of Thomas Shelby to the head of the Changretta family would certainly be an accomplishment.

A talk with Luca Changretta was all you wanted, and although Matteo had been suspicious, it was better than the alternative. As a show of good faith you even gave him back his gun, which had surprised him. You didn’t know what he was expecting, but you had feeling that it wasn’t this.

You had never been to the Inkberrow Hotel, and you were somewhat impressed with it and the implication that the Changrettas had plenty of money to spend. Growing up the way you did, any sign of wealth impressed you, even after all the money Tommy had gained in recent years.

Before you could see Luca Changretta your presence had to be explained, which Matteo did on his own. You weren’t entirely sure that this wasn’t all together foolish, but you didn’t say.

After a few minutes and a surprising lack of raised voices, Matteo came back out into the hall. “He’ll see you.” And that was good enough.

The first thing you noticed was how big the room was. It seemed to be the same size as your mum’s living room, bigger even, and you couldn’t help the internal rise of an eyebrow. The second thing you noticed was Luca Changretta.

He was taller than you had expected him to be, taller than Arthur, and he had the same commanding presence your mum could muster at the tip of a hat. And he was very handsome, with his black hair slicked back and a strong profile that added to the general air of intimidation. A part of you felt bad for noticing, you were married after all. But Tommy had done far worse, and your idea was far worse than finding another man infinitely more attractive than your husband.

Luca Changretta smiled, and you immediately felt as if you were staring at an apex predator. “Mrs Shelby,” he said, the words falling from his mouth as languid as a cat. A big one maybe. “My brother tells me you wish to talk to me.”

“Name.” You said. Hearing the name ‘Shelby’ made your skin crawl. “I would prefer it if you called me that, Mr Changretta.”

There was the smallest hint of surprise on Luca Changretta’s face before he smiled again. “In that case, please call me Luca.” He sat behind the large desk at the center of the room, pulling out a toothpick from his pocket and putting it in his mouth. “So, what is it you wish to discuss?”

“I want to help you.”

The idea had only been half formed when you had first spoken to Matteo, but the time it had taken to be able to talk to Luca had allowed it to grow, like a creeping vine, wrapping itself around your heart.

To your surprise, Luca laughed. “You want to help.” He said, before glancing at Matteo. “She wants to help.” He chuckled, rolling the toothpick from end of his mouth to the other. “That is a very kind offer Name, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t expect you to.” You said. “Which is why I’m going to tell you about Polly.”

For a brief moment, there was a flicker of apprehension on Luca’s face and you saw him look over at Matteo again. “What about her?” He asked slowly.

“Tommy knows about the double cross. The whole thing had been his idea.”

That had changed the atmosphere. It became heavier and you could feel the tension, yet somehow you were unbothered.

You had been apprehensive of the whole idea at first, too many things could go wrong and you weren’t keen on the idea of putting Polly in danger. But none of that mattered now.

“Is that so.” Luca slowly rose, making his way around the desk. “Why are you telling me this?” He leaned back against the desk, almost sitting on it. “You’re married to Thomas Shelby after all, why do you want to help us?”

“Because he’s a right bastard.” You weren’t any mood to sugar coat things, and you figured honesty would be the best course of action in this situation. “He’s cheated on me for the second time and this time he got the girl pregnant. He can fucking rot for all I care.”

There was a brief silence, but it was broken when Luca laughed, looking back at Matteo. “L'inferno non ha furia.” He said, more than a little amused.

“You haven’t begun to see my fury.”

Luca raised an eyebrow, grinning so widely you wondered if he was holding back another laugh. “You speak Italian.” “My grandmother was from Sicily.” You clarified. “She immigrated here after marrying an Englishman.” Your grandmother had never said much about Sicily, in fact she rarely spoke at all, and when she did it was always in Italian, which meant your mum and later you had to learn how to speak it. It wasn’t something you talked about much either, mostly because no one ever really asked and you never found it important or interesting enough to mention. It was the worst during the war, your mum refused to speak Italian outside the home out of fear that someone would mistake her for an Italian spy. She didn’t feel comfortable enough to let the language leave her door again until 1922.

“Well, that explains it.” Luca said. “My father always said that Sicilian women are more dangerous than guns.”

A sudden air of sadness came over the room, as Luca went from playful and pensive, and you found yourself feeling empathetic towards him.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” You said softly. “He never should’ve died.”

What you really thought was that none of this, the vendetta, the deaths, needed to happen. The only reason why it was happening was because Lizzie had fallen in love with Angel Changretta, a development that you had supported. You had been furious with Tommy when he tried to interfere, after all it was none of his business who Lizzie saw. John had married Esme which left Lizzie to pursue whatever man she wanted. Now you felt that a part of you better understood why he had done that.

“Thank you.” Luca gave you what appeared to be a genuine smile and a part of you felt warmer for it. “So, Polly has been playing me has she?”

“Yes.” You said, pulling yourself back into the moment. “She went to Tommy after she got your letter and they came up with the plan together. She would give you a time and place to go after Tommy and set up an ambush. None of you know Small Heath all that well and Tommy planned on using that to his advantage.”

“You realize that this means Polly is back on my list.” Luca said, raising a brow. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“She knew about the pregnancy.” You said, still stinging from that particular betrayal. “As far as I’m concerned she’s as bad as Thomas. But, you don’t need to kill her. Or Thomas.”

Luca took the toothpick out of his mouth, rolling it between his fingers. “Then what do you suggest?”

“Take everything else from them.” You said. “As far as I’m concerned, death is too quick and too good for them. But if you take away what they have, the business the money the empire, that’s a much slower death. A more painful one, and it’ll hurt Tommy the most. He’s always wanted power, so how better to punish him than to take it away?”

There was a pause as Luca appeared to be thinking your suggestion over. He looked up at you with an expression you couldn’t read, the corners of his mouth twitching. “It’s a shame Mr Shelby doesn’t know how to be loyal to his wife.” He mused. “It seems he’s lost a valuable ally.” He stood up straight, putting the toothpick back in his mouth. “Thank you for your help Name, I’ll contact you if I need to.”

You didn’t ask how he would do that, you just assumed that like Tommy and other gangsters, he would find a way. “Have a good day Luca.” You said.

“Oh, I’m sure I will.”

Translation: L'inferno non ha furia-Hell hath no fury (according to google translate)

#tommy shelby x reader #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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sky-girls · 7 years ago

Text

When reality hits you

Well this chapter is kinda short and kinda pointless but I hope you guys like it Find the rest of the chapters here

The moment she stands on her two feet right outside of the hospital she feels weird, she doesn’t know why or how exactly but she feels weird. She feels weird the whole car ride, she feels weird waiting on the car with Gastón while Matteo goes to the pharmacy, she feels weird when she hears the sound of keys opening the door and she feels weird when she enters Matteo’s apartment.

He and Gastón are both smiling softly and kindly at her the whole time, Gastón cracks some jokes she genuinely laughs at, Matteo says things that makes her roll her eyes at him and want to punch him as usual, but the feeling of having a pressure on her chest, the feeling of being able to hear every little nose, feel every little move, never really leaves her. She is too aware of everything and at the same time she has trouble processing it all, the world slows down in such a way that every seconds feels like an eternity. And her own brain has become somehow slower, not being able to catch up with all the information it’s getting to it.

She doesn’t know why and it’s not like she is not happy for leaving the hospital, she truly is but that happiness has been shoved to the back by a feeling she doesn’t recognize, she would say it’s anxiety but she has no reasons to be anxious, all she has wanted for all this time is to leave that damned hospital. Why would she even be anxious about it?

“You don’t mind do you?” Matteo asks and she needs a second to search her mind and realize he has been talking about how she will have to sleep on the couch. She looks at it, she won’t have any problems to sleep on it, it’s big enough for an average sized person and she is way below average in that sense.

“No, not at all. “She says truthfully and he smiles. He seems so calm and that only makes the pressure on her chest get heavier and heavier.

“Well, kiddos.” Gastón says from the door. “I gotta go to work but I will come back later bearing fast food.”

“Don’t you have work today too?” She asks turning to Matteo, she remembers him saying that him and Gastón have the exact same shift.

“I asked for some time to take care of you.” He tells her ignoring Gastón’s awwing on the background. “Which reminds me that Tamara actually wants to meet you too.”

“Tamara?” She asks trying to ignore the panicked feeling of more people that comes to her.

“She is our boss.” He says and Gastón nods. “Her and Juliana.”

“But Juliana is like the boss boss.” Gastón explains which actually doesn’t help at all. “So we don’t see her that much, which is good because she scares me.”

“She’s cool.” Matteo says rolling his eyes. “Scary but cool.”

“If you ask me she is just scary.” Gastón mumbles. “But whatever, I need to leave.”

“Good luck, bro.”Mateo says and she waves as the door.

Once the door closes silence fills the room and awkwardness starts making itself present in the air, she looks at Matteo saying nothing and he just sort of smiles at her, not talking either.

“You didn’t have to take the day off.” She mumbles, looking straight into the wall behind him and not his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone in the first day you were out of the hospital or week actually.” He says sitting down on the couch and patting the spot next to him for her to sit down, she hesitates for a second but does it. “Besides I need to make sure you won’t steal anything and run with it.”

“And where would I even go?” She asks, relieved that the familiar teasing tone is back, she feels a little bit of the pressure on her chest go away. “Back to the hospital?”

“I don’t know.” He chuckles. “Maybe this whole thing was just a scam to get all of my money.”

“Shit, you figured it out.” She pretends to be shocked. “Please don’t tell the police I didn’t manage anyway, I wouldn’t survive in jail.”

“You are too cute.” He agrees and she blushes a little. “They would chew you up and then spit you out.”

“Hey!” She exclaims offended. “I’m not that defenseless, okay?”

“Whatever you say, cucciola.” He says putting emphasis on the last word making her pout and cross her arms over her chest.

“I’m not a puppy.” She says, with a yawn interrupting the middle of her complaints, stupid medications making her sleepy in the middle of the day.

“You so are. “He says flicking her nose, making her scrunch it. He stands going who knows where and leaves her sitting on the couch.

She looks around, the place is tidy and organized, it’s not too full of stuff but not too empty, the windows are wide and perfect to see the beautiful landscape that is Buenos Aires from a fifteenth floor. She doesn’t really know if it fits Matteo, she doesn’t know him that much but it somehow clicks. She yawns again.

She can hear Matteo somewhere in the house, moving some stuff but she has no idea what he is doing, she lays on the couch, she doesn’t think he would mind if she decides to take a small nap.

She is really tired for some reason, maybe the weird sensorial experience of actually going out to the real world even for a while after being trapped in a place that’s basically stopped in time.

She closes her eyes and she thinks she feels Matteo’s footsteps come to the living room and a blanket being softly thrown over her before he walks away to some other place but she can’t be sure. She curls up on herself, trying to find a more comfortable position when she does she finally falls into a deep sleep.

He doesn’t really registers it at first, he is not used to taking care of people so he doesn’t have immediate reactions to this kind of stuff, he hears it but he doesn’t stop cooking, not until the whimpers become louder and he finally fully remembers that there’s a girl sleeping on his couch.

He turns off the stove and quickly leaves the kitchen, terrified that something bad happened to her and he has to drive her to drive her to the hospital right this second. Once he gets to the living room he finds her curled up into a ball on the couch, she is frowning and shaking a little. Kati told him she tends to get nightmares, she doesn’t know what about, forgets them as soon as she opens her eyes but apparently they are bad enough to leave her shaking and crying after them.

He is not sure if the not waking up someone also applies for nightmares and not just sleepwalking but just to be sure he just sits next to her, she has curled up small enough that he has no problems fitting in the space between her head and the armrest, she lets out a small sob, the kind of sob that breaks your heart with how heartfelt it is.

She curls up even more, hugging herself and bringing the blankets closer to her body, he sits closer to her, lifting her head softly, resting it in his lap and moving her fingers through her hair.

She sobs again and this time he can feel the way her body shakes completely before the tears go back to falling silently through her cheeks, he has no idea what to do or how to do it, he wants her to calm down, to go back to the peaceful sleep she had for the last hour, seeing her like this breaks his heart. Her nose is red, her cheeks are too except on those places the tears have left their mark s they run down them, she looks so small, so lost, so broken.

It’s so easy sometimes to forget how hard this whole thing must be for her, she is always so cheerful, always so ready to laugh with him but not only has she lost everything she has she also can’t remember it which means that as for now she has absolutely no way to get it back.

Matteo idly wonders if there’s something for her to come back at all but doesn’t take the question too seriously, everyone has someone or something and he can’t imagine such a bright, full of life girl being the exception.

She stirs a little in his lap and looks up at him blinking slowly, as soon as she realizes her position she sits, cleaning the tears away with the back of her hand and looking straight into the turned off tv, he wants to hug her but he doesn’t want to startle her either so he just sits closer to her.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He says, he lifts his hand but to be honest he has no idea what he is going to do with it so he just lets it fall back into the couch. She doesn’t answer, she just hugs herself, taking deep breaths through her mouth. He can’t handle it anymore, he hugs her.

She crumbles into his arms, hiding on his chest as she starts crying violently, he rubs soothing circles on her, humming softly the melody of a song his mother used to sing to him when he was a little kid and had nightmares too.

“I’m so sorry.” She mumbles after a while, pulling away, blushing a little.

“It’s okay.” He repeats taking his hand to her cheek, wiping the leftover tears off with his thumb. “If anyone in this world has a right to have nightmares that you.”

She smiles softly at him, it’s barely even a lift of the corner of her lips but still a full smile in her green eyes, he moves his thumb on her cheek again, this time meaning it as a caress.

“I don’t even remember them, you know?” She asks softly, her voice strained with the effort to not burst into tears once again. “I just wake up feeling dizzy,with this awful feeling in my chest and this huge head ache and I just…I can only start crying and it’s ridiculous but…”

He hugs her again, holding her close to his chest, he can’t even begin to understand how she is feeling, maybe it’s because she is not the most articulate person right now but even if she could pinpoint her feelings perfectly and express them with just the right words he doesn’t think he could put himself on her place.

“Hey, are you hungry?” He asks pulling away and she just nods. “I was cooking some pasta, I was almost done actually so you can set the table if you feel like it.”

She stands up a little shaky but with a smile, he does the same and walks to the kitchen, hearing her footsteps behind him.

Once they are in the kitchen he goes back to his forgotten bolognese and lets her open all s cupboard and drawers as she takes what she needs as well as does some little exploring.

It’s weird to be doing something so domestic with someone else, he has never lived with anyone before, as soon as he finished school he managed to get an apartment alone knowing he appreciates his space more than he does company. And now he is willingly bringing someone into his space. As weird as it feels he doesn’t regret it nor he thinks that she will be any kind of bother or trouble, he will need to get used to it but somehow he doesn’t think it will be that hard.

He serves the plates and carries them to the table where Lu is already seated, she doesn’t look out of place either. The more time passes they more sure they can make this work somehow.

“Hey.” He start, calling her attention. “Gastón wants to bring his girlfriend over tonight. “

She just nods at him and he is left waiting for an answer while she looks like she is expecting him to continue talking.

“So…” She prompts, taking a very big amount of pasta and shoving it on her mouth. He smiles amused, making her blush a little.

“So I wanted to ask you if you were okay with it.” He says and she looks at him confused.

“Why?” She asks frowning a little.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” She smiles at him and he feels a slight warm spread on his chest, he ignores it. “Do you think you will be okay with it? “

She looks down thoughtful, playing with her food and moving it around the plate absent mindedly, he is more than ready to tell Gastón not to come at all tonight when she looks up a small, hesitant smile on her face.

“Sure why not?” She shrugs a little awkwardly. “I gotta meet more people at some point anyway. “

“Are you sure you can handle it?” He asks softly.

“Is she nice?” She asks back.

“She is one of the sweetest people you’ll ever met.” He tells her, conveniently ignoring the fact that she is also one of the most curious ones too. He is a little bit worried about this but this is Nina and unlike her boyfriend she has some tact so probably the awkward questions won’t start until the second time they meet.

“Then, yeah, I’m sure.”

He is late, he is so fucking late, actually he is a very normal amount of late for someone who is not familiar with the city or it’s streets or basically anything in the country but he doubts that Ámbar will care about it. He walks as fast as he can, searching for the number he has carefully memorized because Ámbar made him delete the message with the address as soon as possible.

He has no idea why she is so paranoid about this or where she is taking him, he has no idea of anything actually except for the fact that Luna is probably in some sort of trouble and he will do everything in his power to help her, even walk blindly around this whole situation only being lead by a woman he doesn’t fully trust.

He reaches the building he is supposed to get to and sees her leaning against it glaring at anything that’s close to her, he comes into her line of vision and she glares at him, with much more intensity than before.

“You are late.” She says as a greeting and he smiles sheepishly at her.

“I got lost.” He explains and she just rolls her eyes at him before opening the door of the building and walking in, leaving him behind.

He hurries to the door before it closes and then to the elevator where she already is.

“So where are we?” He asks and she just ignores him.

She never even hinted at what they will be doing at this place but so far it only looks like any other apartment building on any city.He continues staring at her as she continues to ignore his question until the elevator’s doors open, she walks out, still not looking at him and he is left racing after her, feeling like a lost puppy.

She knocks softly on a door and he stands behind her, he figures there’s no point on asking anything now, the answers will come soon. He sees the doorknob twist and then a blonde woman smiling kindly at them.

He needs a second to notice but it’s undeniable how alike this woman and Ámbar are, the older blonde looks much more worn down, something that doesn’t seem to be only about the age, he throws one quickly look at her arms, all if her inner arms are full of small scars in the form of tiny dots. He looks back up her eyes before she notices.

“You are here early.” She comments after hugging Ámbar, Simón sends her an annoyed look and she only smiles.

“Hi, I’m Simón.” He says kindly, seeing that Ámbar won’t introduce them.

“Hi, I’m Valeria.” She greets him, gesturing at them to get into the apartment. “Ámbar’s mom.”

He makes a conscious effort not to look at Ámbar, but his eyes never leave Valeria and he notices the unsure glance she throws in her daughter directions. If he didn’t know what was happening before he has absolutely no idea now but Ámbar obviously doesn’t want to tell this story or dwell on it in any way and he has to respect her wishes, no matter how much he wants to ask.

“And this.” She says when they reach the living room, finding a man around the same age as Valeria, sitting on the couch and dozing off in front of the tv. “Is Alejandro.”

“You can call me Ale.” He says standing up a little too quickly wanting to pretend he wasn’t sleeping at all. “And who are you ? Who did little queen A brought to our humble home?”

Simón sends a look at Ámbar that nickname but smiles at the guy he seems very nice and he must be the cop Ámbar mentioned. Or well she mentioned her mom has police connections which is basically the same. He hopes.

“I’m Simón.” He repeats giving Alejandro a handshake.

“We need to talk.” Ámbar interrupts them. “It’s important.”

“So did you mom say.” He says sitting back on the couch and inviting them to sit on the arm chairs next to it. “What is it about?”

Valeria sits next to him on the couch and looks at them intently.

“Do you remember Luna?” Ámbar asks them.

“The actual Sol Benson?” Valeria asks and he wonders why is she using the word actual.

“Yes, her.” Ámbar nods. “Well she has gone missing.”

“Did Sharon do anything to her?” Is the first question Alejandro asks and Simón turns to Ámbar alarmed.

“She asks like she has no idea where she is.” Ámbar tells them. “But I’m actually not sure.”

No one in the room seems in any sort of way surprised by this information, except him. What are the chances Sharon actually did something to Luna? Why would she after all the trouble she went through to bring her back to Argentina with her?

“What do you want me to do?” Alejandro speaks again in a serious tone and Ámbar sighs.

“I just want you to keep an eye on any person that might come out with her description.” She tells him and he nods. “She is a 1.54 meters brunette, green eyes, white skin, I don’t actually remember what she was wearing that day but she left in car without a number plate.”

“Anything else?”

“She has necklace with a moon on it.” Simón adds.

“With a sun and a moon on it.” Ámbar corrects him and Alejandro nods. “And Ale I need you to keep this a total secret.”

“You can count on me.” He promises and Ámbar smiles, it’s probably one of the most sincere smiles he has even seen on her face.

“If you need anything you know we are here.” Valera offers leaning closer to hold Ámbar’s hands, her smile turns somewhat softer, making her whole face change, she looks kinder now, it’s a good look on her.

“ I know.” She whispers. “Thank you.”

“Whatever you need.” Alejandro repeats, looking at both of them and Simón smiles thankful, he tries not to look at Ámbar and her mother, he feels like he is intruding.

#soy luna #lutteo #simbar #luna valente #matteo balsano #ámbar smith #simón álvarez #gastón perida #ibm

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survivor-kuwait · 5 years ago

Text

Episode 11 - “i am the balrog elder gay” - Kait

i am the balrog elder gay

Losing Chloe BROKE ME. listning to Bye Bye mariah carey and crying!!! this is for the people who just lost somebody... SHOOT. I wanted her to blurt out more of her votes in tribe chats. RIP. a fallen Goddess...

SWEET BABY JESUS I GET A SECOND LIFE IN THIS GAME!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! OMG I LOVE THE LAGOON RN! BUT HOPEFULLY I CAN MAKE IT TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN RETURN BECAUSE I HAVE A FEW PEOPLE TO STRIKE BACK AT.

I’m so dumb, completely missed the voting deadline, in my defense i was teaching, but still. Never again, its merge (maybe) and im not gonna jeopardise my game like that.

I'm glad we merged but two people are returning to the game? This has been the most cracked game I have ever played.

Renee and Chips have a chance to return. Between the both I hope Renee comes back. She was an ally for me and most probably work together again.

Go rennee!

---

boo chips

MERGEMERGEMERGEMERGE!!!! glad my zodiac sign is known for being loyal cause I sure ain’t.

This challenge is always weird but i think if people tell me the truth i may have cancelled out some of my stuff im getting. M&M&M are good standings hopefully. I also trust kait thomas and timmy. Hopefully i can make itndeep in the game.

---

This challenge was a total meh i guess this works. Hopefully i win immunity. If not hopefully im not a target. My relationship with Madison may be rocky right now cuz i blindsided her tribe friend in another game. So im kinda nervous. Hopefully she doesnt pass it her vengence here and tries to take me out. Im slightly worried a but for this tc.

This merge is a little different from my norm game, I usually have 2-4 alliance chats going but I don't have a single one so far this game. All my deals have been side deals so far, I do not know if that is a good or bad thing as of this moment in time. Corey did fill me in that there was an alliance being formed that included him, at least it's indicative of him wanting "The Bull and the Lion" to continue to work. I am also way to mentally drained to give a damn, I just needed to make a confessional to not strike. I worked for 14 hours today but I made 325 dollars and now only owe 4k on my student loans. Thassss a win in my book even if I get voted out, I'm just gonna drink some beer, hold Jenifer and go to bed. Good night Moon.

THANK GOD I WON IMMUNITY. You have no idea how good it feels to not have to stress out too much this round. Considering there are 14 of us, really anything could happen, but it's great to know that I will make it through at least one more round. The only key here is just making sure that I stay on the right side of the numbers. The line will most likely be drawn in the sand, so it's important that I stay on the right side of it. So far, I think the people that trust me the most are Ian, Corey, and Matt. I talk to them the most out of everyone, and I do trust them all to an extent, Corey and Ian the most. I would love to find a way to get all three of them on the same page, but I know that will be a heard feat. Next in line would probably be Maynor, Madison, and Kait. I talk to these three a good amount, but for some reason I am having a hard time putting my full faith into them. I talk to Owen a good amount too, but he is a MAJOR threat, and someone that I do not want to be in the game for too much longer if I'm going to have a chance to win. For this round, in an ideal world, Thomas would go home. But that seems too easy. I am hoping someone starts throwing names around, but if not, I guess it will have to be me.

WHY DOES MATT HATE ME SO MUCH?!?! I genuinely wanted to work with him after first impressions, I bet he was the one who voted Taurus now. My idol now has a name attached to it, so thanks for that Matt. In a way, I guess you did end up working with me in some fashion. Ideally this round goes down with a clear majority on Stephan and Corey can get his save a vote activated and I play the slow burn on good ole Matteo, I wanted to butt heads with Owen at merge, but Owen has been a delight while Matteo has been nothing but a thorn in my side.

youtube

Phew child this merge! 14 people is so so so many and I did in fact vote out Adrian and Chloe, both people who I’ve worked with. I’m left in a really interesting spot because of the warzones it’s still hard to see who has a pattern of voting together. I feel that I’ve positioned myself to be in a lot of threesomes, and hopefully nobody really catches on to that? I know Kait is my number one currently and I have trust with Madison and Devon and Corey. But I’m also fully aware that everyone is a huge threat, and I have to downplay myself as one as well. Hopefully a stepehen vote will provide me with good positioning, as we’re removing someone I personally can’t reallt work with, and lessening the numbers. I also wanna really work with chips but I’m sure everyone was chomping at that bit! Who doesn’t want a bite of chips!

I wish I could put an image in this form bc the joke I’m about to make is so funny Anyways lol I told Kait about the idol I felt like I had to or else I’d break her trust if I ever used it. But THEN LOL SHE TOLD ME THAT matt also has one LMAO THAY HE NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT!!!! So that meme I linked above is literally me and matt with our idols Here’s my prob tho I like l.... I have to tell matt bc he knows I guess the coordinate. So I guess that’s a thing that’ll happen

Finally have an alliance chat with Kait and Owen...it’s been so many rounds in the making tbh, it just needed to actually be made. I feel safer having that as well as us going to make one with Matt and Maynor as well, making sure that Matt is okay with it...Maynor already seems to be on board. The only name that’s been going around is Stephen so that kind of sucks because I wanted to work with him, but he isn’t around enough to try and rock the boat for in this game unfortunately.

I found a hidden immunity idol which is awesome! Also, everyone has been silent this round after we decided on Stephen so that’s a bit suspicious

This is a really hard round because I really like everyone. If any good came from it, it's that I solidified myself into a strong alliance that should be able to keep me safe for at least a few rounds. Corey did not seem to bite on my idea to vote out Owen. Matt says he is most threatened by Ian and Timmy. And everyone just seems to want to vote Stephen. I think this round will be pretty easy, but from this point on it just gets harder. I assume that Chips is in a bad spot and most likely will go next. But at final 12, it's going to be a doozy to see who can stay on top of the vote.

So thisrounf there is an alliance of 6 however I have 0 faith in Thomas. He is a wild card and will be hard to judge and work with. No idea what’s going to happen tonight.

Aight a lot happening this merge!!! Fourteen people we losin our minds. First of all let me say half these ppl were kinda boring to talk to but I’m liking it a little better today. I came in wanting Stephen GONE because I lied to him during the taylor vote and we haven’t clicked since and I promised I would get out whoever lied to me in this food challenge and his bitch ass didn’t submit so I didn’t get my perfect ZERO!!!! So I was all ready to press him but suddenly Devon had already thrown out his name! Easy as pie. I rlly trust Kait and her and corey get along. I was branching out to some others too like madison is bae, Devon is fun, I like talking to Ian. My FAVORITE is Maynor I rlly like him but I’m scared matt has a hold on him. Anyways I helped set up some alliances today that I hope are solid. One is me Kait madison corey and then they wanted to add Devon and tommy which is cool. Still kinda pressed at Thomas because yesterday I said ily to him and he replied with lol but other than that it’s a good group. But then suddenly Timmy wanted something with Kait and I so I took that as an opportunity to solidify something with Maynor! Precious angel. Kait and I are worried because the tension between corey and matt lmao which is honestly kinda stupid. Matt was sus about corey after he spearheaded the renee vote which like I understand. And I stirrred the pot a little because I told corey that matt was after him lmao. But for now I’m rlly working hard to keep them from targeting each other and so is Kait. Idk how long that can last tho. Ummmm trace’s THOT HOE ASS told corey he wanted me out?!!! So he gotta GO! And Kait and matt think Ian is dangerous which I’m like ok maybe..., sure. Ummm Cullan is just mind boggling. He ate tater tots for breakfast who does that. But he’s sweet I guess. Id prefer him and Ian and trace gone soon but corey likes all those people oop. I rlly think Kait wants to stick with going to the end with me and matt which like.... I rlly will keep allegiance to Kait but matt? Idk. He kept his idol secret from me and it’s clear he doesn’t trust me as much which is fine, I wasbsure Stephen would target me tonight but apparently now he’s going for Thomas. Hopefully it’s an easy vote and Stephen goes and I get what I want and next round I’ll figure out what to do when it gets harder

Well. Tonight the vote is Stephen. Well, for the majority of us. For little young me, I will be voting for nobody! We acquiring a save vote. Hopefully, at our next tribal, Timmy leaves! Woo! I am in 2 alliances: Mighty Happy Meal (Owen, Kait, Madison, Devon, Thomas) and Queer Eye-ish (Madison, Matt, Trace). Period... I am loyal to my own people. Madison, Owen, Ian, Devon. Kait too, to an extent. The rest need to go at their time. I do what I can. Matt is a priority for me to get rid of. Unless Timmy wants Matt gone, I want him gone too for next time. x

Ep 11: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-fEEBtT8R4hk_587qknbxwLmB8yhN_lt/view?usp=drivesdk

This is my placeholder confession for until I am at a computer and able to type something out. I got back in the game!

alyssa said put ep 11: just a quick recap bc i have to play this silly flash game now before i pass out - corey and matt allegedly not liking each other is still a problem - owen found an idol - i told owen matt has an idol bc i have a big mouth - corey told owen all this shit about the vote and idk just other game sensitive stuff and not me and - there's an aliens of trace, matt, madison, and corey that trace allegedly made. this is a big question mark bc either it's just really random and people that trace wants to work with despite what they said or this beef??? between matt and corey is fake which i wouldn't be too surprised by - corey told all of this to owen before tribal but told him that he was going to wait until after tribal to tell me like.... i don't appreciate that. - i think that kind of solidifies that if/when corey v matt happens and i have to pick a side i wanna go with my matt. - im sure i will think of more tomorrow oh also i want ian to get deleted from skype thx

EP 11 Confessional: I got an idol this round which is cool. I heard the vote was stephen however it’s been kinda quiet. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

#survivorstarzone #episodes

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shinytalent903-blog · 5 years ago

Text

The Introduction of Addison West.

My DM invites me into the party, gives me a brief rundown of the world and such, and I come up with a character. I have a great love of writing, even if I am not that great at it, so I wrote a brief introduction to send to me DM.

They really enjoyed it, and they even used the NPC that I introduced as a main NPC in our campaign. I hope that someone else reads it and likes it too.

*****

Target: Addison Eleanor West.

Payment: 500,000 credits upon proof of completion.

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

Addison West loves The Luxe. This multi-level club in the silver district is wall to wall bodies, no matter the night, their VIP area is always open to her, and possibly the best of all she went to school with Alexis (DJ LX Sm00th) and he constantly kept her favourite tracks in reserve.

Tonight with a week until the Centennial Celebration the place is quiet. Addison can normally lounge in VIP and not see the bar for the crush of people, now everyone passing by can make eye contact and smile hopefully.

Addison taps violet nails on a glass filled with a lavender drink, a subtle signal to Matteo that she would love another.

Matteo gives her a look before puffing out his barrel chest and heading to the bar. Matteo is an old school body guard, been with her family since before she was born, and he could still snap a guy in half for looking at her the wrong way. Still sometimes Addison forgets that there are streaks of silver in his well oiled black hair.

Matteo likes to remind Addison that he is not an errand boy, that the West Corporation hires interns to fetch and carry for her. Addison always fires back with a reminder that an intern won't take a bullet for her.

The VIP area is empty save for her and while normally this is the time of the evening that Addison would start inviting people over, tonight something feels different. When Matteo brings her a fresh drink she thanks him with a smile, despite her mother's belief that Addison disrespects the West Family staff Addison has great respect for Matteo.

Like right now, Alexis is taking a break between sets and he is bee lining toward her. Matteo knows without her having to say a word to stand in front of the entrance and stare Alexei down like the immovable brick wall he is.

“Addi, love, call off your dog and let me come say hello?”

“Don't call me that. Matteo answers to mother, he is deaf to me. Isn't that right Matteo?”

Matteo grunts and continues his dead stare.

“Fine, fine, but you owe me a date Miss West.”

Matteo snorts, and Addison gives her camera ready smile. “IM me the details Lex.” she says before blowing him a kiss.

Soothed Alexis leaves and misses Addison rolling her eyes at her bodyguard as Matteo gives her the signal. The reason that Luxe holds her interest is that there is an almost nightly card game and finally, finally a seat was free at the table.

Lucien Spires took the job because Mallory West didn't give him room to say no. Lucien had no interest in killing some girl, but the amount of zeroes on that cheque were very convincing.

Taking a passing look in the glass as he exits the room he catches sight of the charcoal suit, the red tie, and the polish on his shoes and smirks. Green eyes stare back at him.

If Mrs West really wants to plan a funeral so close to the Centennial that's not his problem.

The Luxe has barely opened it's doors and Lucien has a seat at the table, he has to wait for the target to arrive, and then gain her seat at the table. The hosts like to keep her waiting, and for some reason the target doesn't seem to mind.

When the asset finally breezes in, smile fixed in place, she jokes about a table full of new faces to take credits from. It falls flat, and yet the target just fixes a feline smile to her darkened purple lips and picks up her hand.

*****

"She recently fixated on the colour purple. She will do this, you understand? Chase a particular interest only to give it up once it's been bled dry. I believe it has to do with her father's penchant for spoiling her."

"Ma'am, I don't know why that's relevant."

"Hmm?" Mallory West raises a perfect eyebrow at Lucien "Well I hope you would use the information provided to accurately identify your target."

"Ma'am, no offence, but everyone on Starbright knows your daughter, even with her recent hairstyle choice."

Of course only the impossibly rich could be this impossibly ignorant. Addison’s face had been all over the feeds when she dyed her blonde tresses a soft lavender, and shaved one side of her head.

Mallory West flinches, her children were clearly crafted in her image, and Addison is the one that constantly shifts and changes to not reflect her mother, but herself.

Addison was three hundred up overall, but this hand was not her hand. Worse still Matteo kept pacing in her peripheral vision throwing off her concentration. When she finally folds with a curse, tossing her cards on the table there's a moment when Addison doesn't understand why her cards hitting the table sounded like a gunshot.

The other woman at the table doesn't pause, she draws a las pistol from the small of her back and fires at the set of jowls that originally fired at Matteo.

"She's my contract, best back off old man."

Addison has grown up around guns. Matteo insisted on teaching her how to shoot, and Addison is awful at it but she understands gun fire, is familiar enough not to panic.

In an instant the table is on it's side and Addison is crouched on the sticky floor of a back room gambling den and wonder how in the constellations she got here.

*****

Well that's an interesting development. Lucien had been planning on making a move, just not something quite so bold.

The older gent at the table, he'd called himself Henry, had taken the guard out first. Smart, Matteo Delano was old school, and protective of his charge. He was also a legend in the underground boxing league, if you followed that sort of thing.

The woman (she didn't give a name so Lucien had been calling her Blondie) at the table had drawn Henry's attention, she had a laz pistol and knives for days. Good. Let them fight this out. Lucien would focus on- shit! Where did she go?

The burning sensation in his shoulder indicated that Blondie took exception to him trying to evac.

*****

Addison knows The Luxe's layout better than she knows the layout of her parent's penthouse. There is a service corridor, it leads to a set of stairs, and those stairs get you to an observation deck on the top level of the club.

Right now that's what Addison is focused on, get to the deck, be seen, and draw attention to herself.

There was a reason that those... what do you call someone trying to kill you? Criminals? Hitmen?

Assassins?

'Snap out of it West.' She gives herself a shake and starts pulling off her wine coloured heels in case she needs to run.

As she does Addison whispers "Call A."

There is a ringing in her ear “You've reached the messaging service of Armstrong West, if this is time sensitive please leave a message after the tone. Thank you.”

“A, dammit. If you're screening my calls I'm going to kill you.

********

Lucien chuckles, the first call of the night that Addison makes and it's a hurried call to her brother.

He wonders why she didn't call a security team, or even her father, odd that she would instead phone her brother.

“Listen bro, there's trouble. Matteo got shot, I'm on my way to you. I just gotta get out of here first.

I'm in the back corridor. A, please be careful. Stay put!”

Addison has no idea that this message isn't reaching her brother. Lucien rerouted all her calls to his own private line.

Lucien snakes his way out of the room, stepping over Blondie's unconscious form, leaving Harry bleeding out on the floor. There's a growing respect for this mark. Lucien looses his tie, and messes up his hair.

Hopefully he can sell this.

*****

Addison whips around glaring down the corridor, one shoe off and stumbling to wrench off the second. “Stay away from me.”

“Wait, please, what the hell,” and to really sell it Lucien winces with the pain in his shoulder. “what happened in there?”

Addison squints at him, and Lucien doesn’t know when he started referring to the mark by her name, but it doesn’t suit her.

“Well those two were plants, clearly something is going on.” Addison approaches, and angrily tears at the hem of her dress, it’s a deep shade of violet that off sets just how pale her tube engineered skin truly is. “Hold still.”

Lucien hisses for real this time as she wraps the wound.

“It won’t help for long, but it should be enough to get you out. On that note, we should move. Now.”

Addison heads for the stairs, and this should be the point where Lucien takes his snub nose from his ankle holster and puts one in the back of her head instead he finds himself asking

“How did you learn to do this?” He gestures to his shoulder.

They are halfway up the stairs before she answers “Matteo, my bodyguard, he taught me. He figured if I was going to go to these places that I needed some survival skills to back myself up.”

Lucien pauses on the stairs. “My name-”

“I don’t want to know. Just keep moving.”

“I know yours Miss West, it’s only proper that I give you my name in exchange.”

Addison just keeps climbing silently fuming, and yes being shot at kick starts ones adrenaline but Lucien had been expecting a whiny brat, one that went to pieces at the first sign of trouble, he hadn’t expected someone prepared to dress a wound, someone with a contingency plan.

“Listen when I get you out of this, then you can give me your name handsome, til then just accept my apology for getting you shot.”

“How do you know they were there for you?” Lucien is genuinely curious.

“I can buy one new face at that table, but three? No. Plus they took Matteo out first. Matteo was ex private military, an ex heavyweight boxer, and has been my shadow since I started school.

Everyone who knows my family knows I don’t leave my apartments without Matteo to watch out for me. Father’s orders.”

Lucien nods, clearly even Mallory West underestimates her daughter’s intellect.

“Okay, I’ll give you that.”

*********

Addison shoulders the door open and slips through, the crowd is really going now and all she can do is hope that there aren’t any more surprises waiting for her.

Mr Suit and Tie is following her, and she does feel bad that he got shot but she knows that getting worked up won’t help the situation.

“I called my brother, he’ll meet us somewhere safe. From there we can get you home.” Addison has been at card tables since she was 12, she got thrown out of her first school for running a less than legal card game and now she watches Suit and Tie’s face and something twists in her stomach.

Addison had just spent an hour with the man, and even when he’d been 500 credits in the hole he hadn’t broken a sweat. Now those vivid green eyes won’t meet her own cosmetically enhanced violet ones and she begins to wonder but decides to let things play out. Being a West meant knowing how to play the game.

“Uh Miss West, shouldn’t we get a Sec team?” Addison shakes her head, chuckling quietly.

“Drop the Miss, eh? Just West will be fine.” Addison can’t decide if this guy is trouble, or if he is Mr Wrong Place, Wrong Time.

“Okay West, where to?”

They make it to the front entrance of Luxe before she hears the tell tale crackle of an energy rifle.

Addison hasn’t fired one, but she’s heard them before, and now she smells burning.

“We gotta move.” Addison feels herself shoved out the door and into a mostly deserted corridor.

The burning smell stays with them and as she hauls Suit and Tie toward a set of silver elevator doors.

When the doors seal shut Suit and Tie slumps against the wall and he has both hands pressing to a fresh burn on his side.

“Maybe they are after you handsome.” A grim smile through gritted teeth greets her, there’s a sheen of sweat on his pale face.

“Lucien. It’s Lucien Spires.”

“I thought I said to keep it to yourself until we were in the clear.”

“I know, but maybe there’s something else you should know West.” Addison already knows.

Dammit.

“So you wanna collect on me now, or wait till those doors open?”

“I was thinking I would let you go.”

“Sure, at least tell me what the pay cheque would have been? Please tell me that you weren’t going to take less than a mill” Studying the shifty look on Lucien’s face Addison shakes her head

“What? Did they short change you? Damn. My stocks alone are worth at least 800 thou in credits. I’m disappointed in you Spires.” He starts laughing, which turns to a hacking cough.

“500 thousand credits, upon proof of completion.”

“I’m deeply hurt, that’s my monthly bookie allowance.” The doors open and showing a surprising amount of care Addison hooks an arm around Lucien’s torso and lets him lean on her as they try to hustle.

“Let’s get you patched up while you decide once and for all whether to collect or not.”

Addison had done this more than once, flipped someone from a hater into a follower, and while she isn’t sure that having a hitman on the payroll will increase her portfolio she sure hopes it will deter anyone else from taking a shot.

There’s a red dot at her feet, and then two, and then five. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay Spires, when I say run, you gotta haul ass, got it?” Lucien grits his teeth and nods. Addison isn’t sure that her new hitman will make it but since he had been planning on killing her for far less than what she is worth Addison doesn’t know if she is too worried.

*****

There’s a blur of varying shades of purple that moves down the mostly steel corridor and Lucien is doing his best to stay upright, and follow. Shots erupt behind them, and everywhere feeds are talking about “an electrical accident at a local club” because of course the Sec Team is spinning the story away from station wide panic.

A door slides open and he almost misses her dive into the opening, before he is being pulled inside with her.

“Confession time West, I intercepted the call you made to your brother.” Addison is at a console and he isn’t sure what she’s doing. “Figured that’s what happened. Sending him something now.”

“Is that safe?” Lucien is slumped on the ground, the left half of him on fire.

“It is when it’s from my father’s terminal. Now let’s see about getting you a med kit.”

Soon enough painkillers are being stabbed into his right shoulder and the familiar floating feeling has kicked in. Lucien begins to fight sleep, but he can’t. The black is all encompassing and he finally gives in and lets it take him.

When his eyes drift open there’s a scrap of paper in his hand, and it has to be from Addison because paper is more precious than gold on this station, and nobody else would think to waste it. Sure enough the ink is a sparkly purple, it looks more like lipstick than pen.

“This isn’t over Spires. We’ll be in touch.” -West

**********

“Addi, are you sure you’re okay?” Armstrong is standing over her in his kitchen, trying to inspect his sister for any sign that she isn’t herself.

“Listen A, I told you, I’m fine. Grab the bread would you?" Hip bumping her twin out of her way as she opens the fridge and starts pulling out meat, cheese, lettuce, and a tomato.

“Sandwiches? Are you seriously eating at a time like this? SOMEONE TRIED TO HAVE YOU KILLED?”

“And I am a growing girl A, I gotta keep my strength up. What if my blood pressure drops right when I need to run for my life?” Her twin frowns as he hands her bread, and butter.

“I can’t believe Matteo’s gone.” In that one moment she cracks a little, her voice softens, and her chin wobbles.

“Addi, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” The West twins weren’t raised to be affectionate. They found out a few years ago that they were only twins because their parents thought it would be efficient to just raise them both at once.

That doesn’t stop her brother from awkwardly rubbing her back as she assembles a pair of towering sandwich monuments.

They stand opposite each other in Armstrong’s kitchen, leaning on opposite benches with their feet just touching. Her toes are painted plum and his are in a pair of slippers as they silently consume what look to be mouth watering sandwiches.

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