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astralaffairs · 5 years ago

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voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison payne

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

WASHINGTON D.C. — HOME to the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, a metro that no longer catches on fire, and most importantly, one Y/N L/N's new university. Coming in as a transfer student in the second semester of her junior year wasn't exactly her ideal scenario, but walking across a stage in a cap and gown sixteen months later certainly was — a degree is a degree.

She'd spent the previous two semesters abroad, traveling throughout Europe and trying to figure out her next step. She hadn't yet paid her junior year tuition, and on one fateful night in northern Italy, she transferred to the University of Westphalia on a whim (that whim being a generous financial aid package and a pre-existing housing offer, but that was neither here nor there). It'd been a jarring few months, spending the Christmas season packing up her entire life to not only leave Europe — a process that came with many heartbroken nights of hotboxing a friend's apartment and mourning the loss of her societal nap times — but also finally abandoning her hometown in favor of moving to the east coast.

The change may have left a lump in her throat, but it lifted a weight from her shoulders; she felt light on her feet despite the heavy D.C. snow. Much of the credit for that had to fall to her dearest Dolley Payne, the light of her life, the wind beneath her wings, the old best friend who'd found herself a dirt-cheap apartment just outside of campus and offered that Y/N come be her roommate. How could she resist a proposal like that?

However, that was also how she found herself a drink and a half deep and putting back on her boots at nine o'clock the night before classes started.

"Are you sure going out right before the first day back is a good idea?" Though Y/N was eyeing Dolley skeptically, she just rolled her eyes, pulling on her coat and scarf.

"Relax, it's not like we're going clubbing," she assured her, but when Y/N raised a dubious eyebrow, she continued, "Come on! You literally moved in last night. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't take you out at least once before everything's back in college mode?"

Dolley nudged Y/N playfully as she pulled on her coat, and the latter sighed. "I'm a new student here, Doll. I don't think showing up hungover to my first class is a particularly good look."

"You don't even have class until 3 PM!" she argued, and though she pursed her lips, Y/N had to admit Dolley had a point. "Relax, I won't even get you drunk. I just need you to come see the cute little speakeasy on fourth street. It's my favorite spot."

"'Speakeasy'?" Y/N questioned, buttoning up the front of her coat, and Dolley nodded enthusiastically.

"Mhm. You've gotta know somebody to know about it," she said. "It's a pretty open secret in this neighborhood, but it's one of the only bars that isn't always crowded."

"It's a Sunday night; how many people are really going out drinking?"

Dolley gave her a tired glance. "You'd be surprised."

———————

AND WHEN THEY stumbled upon the bar not twenty minutes later, surprised she was.

"This is really the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on Y/N’s knee as she leaned toward her in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyes were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an expectant eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from the v-neck of his sweater to where it was pulled taut around his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck. "Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come here and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women."

"It's like that, huh?" His soft huff made her smile. "Maybe I bought a drink for the wrong woman just now."

Y/N turned to him with her brow furrowed, already opening her mouth to rebuke him, but when she saw his teasing smile, she stopped herself. "You still decided to come over, didn't you?"

"So, what, you're just too irresistible?" He rose an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"You said it, not me."

He laughed, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair beside her, and she pursed her lips as she eyed the man. He had a full head of dark, thick curls, and his tight sweater bulged at his biceps, drawing her distracted gaze away from his winning smile. "Mind if I join you, then?"

She was leaning onto the bar, resting on her forearms as she considered him, lips pursed. "I suppose some company couldn't hurt."

"Glad to hear it." Y/N was struggling to pull her eyes away from the wide grin he wore, but as he took a seat beside her, he didn't seem to mind. "So what's a woman like you doin' drinkin' alone on a Sunday?"

"Good question," she started, lips pursed as she considered him -- because really, what was she doing? Playing ghost wingwoman for Dolley? Reminiscing on her shitty flings in Europe? Trying to sober up from the sugar content of her sickeningly sweet cocktails so she didn't throw up from something other than alcohol? "Maybe I've just been waiting for someone to finally approach me."

Her mischievous smile made his eyebrows shoot up, surprised but more than pleasantly so. "'S that right?" The noncommittal tilt of her head gave him little to go on. "Sorry to say it, but if you're lookin' to meet people, this isn't the first place I'd recommend, sweetheart."

"It seems to be working for me so far," she pointed out, raising a smug eyebrow, and the man laughed, eyes shining. "Then again, I don't even know your name. Have we really even formally met?"

"You make an excellent point," he conceded, and when Y/N took another sip of her water, his eyes flickering down to her mouth was the furthest thing from subtle. "But what's the intrigue of a mysterious stranger approachin' you at a bar if I just tell you my name, hm?"

"What, are you going to make me beg for it?" The undertone of her own words certainly wasn't lost on Y/N, not as her voice dropped to a murmur, the corners of her lips curling up into a mischievous smile. He didn't seem thrown off, either; his eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, a fire blazing behind them that Y/N could've sworn hadn't been there even a minute before.

"Don't you start givin' me ideas," he said quietly, and she could feel her breath catch, her stomach turn, but she paid it little mind, "unless that's what you're really lookin' for."

"I don't think I know what you're implying." The innocent smile Y/N had plastered on made him raise an amused brow, despite that her voice sounded as though she'd been winded. "But it does seem awfully mean to make such a fuss over something so simple. I have to say, I almost feel like I'm being exploited."

"Hey, I came all the way over here. 'S your turn to put in some leg work now." When he bumped his elbow into hers, she hadn't expected to laugh at the brief, teasing action, but whether it was hormones or her excessive consumption of glucose, something about that night had her feeling just a bit lighter than usual.

"Alright, alright," she finally caved, dropping the coy facade. "What can I ever do to make up for the wasted martini and two meters of walking you had to overcome?"

"You can tell me where you're from, for starters." Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow at the question, folding her arms, but he only shrugged. "What? Haven't seen you around here before; I know I'd remember if I had." She rolled her eyes when he winked but didn't cut him off. "So what's your deal, then? In town visitin' a friend? Here for some kinda election event?"

"I just moved here, actually. I'm new to the neighborhood."

"So you're livin' around here?"

"So you're already trying to stalk me?"

He laughed at her accusatory stare, her lips pursed. "Nah, 'm just from this part of town," he said, but hesitated a moment to continue as he eyed her curiously. "Can you blame me for takin' interest when I hear a pretty face like yours is gonna be out 'n' about here more often?"

"Excuse you, I'm much more than just a pretty face," Y/N said defensively, but the man just shrugged.

"Well, since you're refusin' to tell me anythin' about yourself, how am I supposed to know that?" The look in his eyes was challenging, and she let out an amused huff, trying to bury how endeared she was in a facade of exasperation.

"Alright, smart guy; you win this one," she said with a scowl, but her lips quirked as she continued, "I just settled into an apartment building a block or two over. Now have I earned your name?"

"I'm Thomas," he supplied.

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated quietly, the look in his eyes softening. "So, where'd you move here from?"

"A little bit of everywhere," she responded vaguely, taking another sip of her drink, and Thomas cocked a brow.

"Care to explain?"

"I've been abroad," Y/N laughed, enjoying his look of bemusement. "I'm from Ohio, originally, but I went to Chicago for school, and I've spent the past year or so in Europe."

He nodded, pausing a moment at her words. "Really? Ohio?"

"I spent a year halfway across the world, and that's what you choose to focus on?" Her words were almost indignant, and the disbelief in her narrowed eyes made him laugh.

"'M sorry, I just..." He trailed off, his eyes wandering down her figure, and she gave him a skeptical glance, turned back to her drink. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a Midwesterner."

"There's a reason I ran for the hills the first chance I got." She snorted, taking a sip of her seltzer water as she shook her head. Her gaze was absent, drifting across the wall behind the bar, but before Thomas could question it, she'd turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "So what about you? What's your origin story? Texas? Alabama?"

"Virginia, born and raised," he answered easily, clear pride in it laced through his voice, but he glanced at her suspiciously a moment later. "I really strike you as bein' from Alabama?"

"Listen, the southern accent was all I had to go off of. I did my best," Y/N defended, trying and failing to keep a laugh out of her tone, and he scoffed.

"Sure you did, sweetheart." The sarcastic lilt to his voice came alongside a broad grin, and had his voice not been so playful, she may have written him off right there and then. As it was, though, she couldn't even bring herself to scowl at the words. Instead, she held his warm stare, trying not to concentrate on the fact that she could feel his body heat permeating his sweater just inches to her left, trying to reign in her spiking pulse. Being beyond hyper-aware of just how close Thomas was, though, it shouldn't have startled Y/N when he knocked his knee into hers. When her eyes refocused, having been lost in thought, she could see in his eyes the pleasure he was taking in how skittish he'd made her.

"Anyway, now that I'm not some cryptic intruder," he started -- he didn't seem to notice that Y/N's focus was still fixed on subduing the heat rising in her neck, "can I buy you that drink?"

——��——————

THUS BEGAN THE rest of their night. It was nearly eleven when Dolley texted her from the other side of the room, a frantic plea for forgiveness if she went home with James. (She swore, she hadn't meant to leave Y/N alone on their first night out together -- besides, Y/N seemed to have found a nightcap of her own. Forget a tall drink of water; the stranger in burgundy was a daiquiri and a half -- Dolley's words, not mine.)

And really, Y/N didn't mind. She was more than willing to walk home alone if it meant a night of just a little adventure. She ended up staying at the bar with Thomas until the owner nearly had to throw them out -- and Y/N couldn't blame them. Neither of them had had anything to drink in over an hour, so she supposed that as the clock neared midnight, they really weren't making much of a dent in the profit margin.

But it wasn't her fault, really. No one told her when she'd left her apartment that evening that, for once in her life, the person sending her a drink wouldn't be an incel with a god complex. Quite frankly, not only was that bullet dodged, but Thomas quickly proved to be more than a few inches above the low, low bar she'd set.

The night grew colder outside the windows, but the pair of them were preoccupied, busy inching closer, her hand falling upon his arm when she laughed, his legs brushing against hers as he acted as though he hadn't even noticed. They could both tell her demure front was just for show; her skin burned under his touch, layers of fabric be damned, and his gaze was electric. She'd long since thrown caution to the wind, anyway. Where the night was headed was clear only minutes after he'd sat down beside her; the air between them was charged. Sure, she'd only met him a couple hours prior, but any sort of a spark could certainly make a fire to last at least one night -- and last it did.

However, she didn't expect to have to be the one to push it that far. Brazenness seemed to be Thomas's mode of operation, so she was almost surprised when their being herded out onto the street below didn't immediately end in his hands on her skin, her body pulled flush against him. When they reached the musty alleyway, she was struggling to believe the firebrand of a man who'd bought her a drink hours before had suddenly become so mild in the night air.

But he'd bought her a drink. The ball was in her court.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, shivering, to see Thomas watching her with concern in his eyes. To be candid, she was fine -- winter in D.C. had nothing on the frigid bite of the air in Finland -- but she couldn't pretend how worried he looked wasn't part of what was tempting her to deal with the devil, heavy shadows clinging to his brow.

"I'm alright," she replied quietly, offering him a reassuring smile, but his creased brow didn't part.

"You sure? That coat doesn't look all that heavy."

"Really. I'm okay," she said with a light laugh, though she didn't think how she'd begun sniffling as her nose started to run was helping her case all that much. "I have a short walk home; it's no biggie."

That, however, made his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. "You're walkin' home? Y/N, I dunno how safe that is."

"It's hardly snowing."

"I mean for you to be alone in the city in the middle of the night," he said, pausing as he reached where she stood just before the opening of the alleyway. "Can I call you an Uber?"

She turned her head to find him right by her side, perhaps an inch between the pair, his warm breath tickling her neck as he looked down at her. Her smile was hesitant. "I'm not letting you burn up some fossil fuels for a two block car ride. I can take care of myself."

"How 'bout if I walk you home?" he offered, and she let out a light sigh. "C'mon, leavin' you here alone in the middle of the night doesn't sit right with me. If somethin' happened..."

Though he trailed off, the implication in his words was obvious, and Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that, because a stranger might follow me home, I should let a different stranger follow me home to prevent it?"

When she put it like that, Thomas couldn't help his quiet laugh at the irony of the situation. "Hey, I thought we'd agreed I'm not a stranger anymore," he protested, but Y/N looked him up and down skeptically.

"What, you paid for my drinks and called me pretty, and suddenly we're besties?"

"Now, we both know 'besties' wasn't exactly what I was goin' for," he said matter-of-factly, his smile sharp but playful, and despite how tilted the whole situation felt, she couldn't hold back her chuckle. She rolled her eyes, stuffed her hands in her pockets as she turned back to the well-lit sidewalk before them, the January snow crunching under her boots, but when she met his eyes, Thomas's expression had softened. He rose an inquiring eyebrow, and finally, she sighed.

"Yeah, you walking me home would be nice."

A grin split his light demeanor. "Alright. Lead the way, sweetheart."

"Follow me."

They took a right out of the alleyway, and as traffic continued to roar by beside them, speeding through the night, as the low buzz of the antiquated streetlights permeated the air, they fell into a comfortable silence, never falling out of step with one another. Snow was flecked across both their coats, and shadows were cast across their features, cycling back with each passing lamp.

Y/N hadn't been exaggerating when she deemed it a short walk home; it couldn't have been more than five minutes before they found themselves nearing the front steps of her building, and she looked up at him.

"Hey, thanks for tonight," she said, voice timid, and he turned to her with a wide smile.

"'S been my pleasure," he replied. "Sorry for keepin' you out so long; your roommate must be startin' to wonder."

When Y/N laughed lightly, Thomas raised an eyebrow, apparently not following whatever she'd taken away from his words. "I have a feeling she's a little too preoccupied to be worrying about me right now," she said dryly. She'd been back in town for not 48 hours, and Dolley was already going out on her own -- as supportive as Y/N was, Dolley had a habit of getting too attached too quickly. She was praying James wouldn't end up another regrettable hookup.

However, Thomas couldn't exactly hear her thoughts, something Y/N hadn't considered before tightly grabbing ahold of the rope to her mental tangent -- it was his fault, really. She couldn't be blamed for his lack of talent in mind-reading. But as he continued to watch her expectantly, as she pulled herself back to the present, she finally said, "She's spending the night with someone else tonight. Make of that what you will."

He shook his head in amusement. "Good for her."

"I'm sure her host thinks so."

A moment passed in quiet under the frigid night sky, Y/N hesitant to act but Thomas hesitant to leave. He was the one to break it.

"It was good to meet you, Y/N," he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows. Her window of opportunity was dwindling. "Hope I'll see you--"

"D'you want to come upstairs?" She hadn't meant to cut him off, but the words were spilling from her tongue before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding; she wasn't fond of having to make the risky move, and the tentativeness in his raised eyebrows wasn't helping.

"Seriously?" Oh, God. Was it really such a ridiculous idea that he was struggling to believe she was asking? "I..." Thomas let out a heavy sigh when he trailed off before pursing his lips, tongue in cheek and looking everywhere but at her. "'S temptin', but... I can't do that to you."

Y/N only stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You've been drinkin' all night." His tone left little room for negotiation, but she was on the edge of taking offense. "I know you don’t seem drunk, but if your judgment isn't all the way there, it's not happenin'. G'night, sweetheart."

She was still standing in stunned silence when he turned to walk back the way he came, but when he started retreating in her field of vision, she called after him, "Hang on." To her relief, he looked back at her quizzically, footsteps stalling on the snow-coated sidewalk, and she took a step toward him. "I've been drinking seltzer water and fruit juice all night, Thomas," she said, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "So if you're not interested, you don't need to make excuses, but I'm asking you while perfectly sober."

Her stomach seemed to be trying to turn itself inside-out as she waited anxiously for him to respond; the calculated way he looked her over only exacerbated the feeling. "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

"Next to nothing." The pause between them was heavy, both their minds racing but far from in consensus. "Your move, Thomas."

Not three seconds passed before he was striding toward her decisively, and she inhaled sharply when his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek, thumb sweeping over the expanse of skin. She was flush against his chest, too surprised to even react, her hands resting at his upper chest, and her eyes widened when she felt his cheekbone brush against the crown of her head. He tilted his head down to look at her, his lips hardly a hair away from the top of her ear. She could feel his breath down her neck, setting her nerves alight. "Can I kiss you?"

Her answer was immediate. "Please."

And before she had time to think, his lips were on hers; he was tangling a hand into her hair. He wasted no time in starting to walk her back toward her building, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist as she stumbled backward.

She yelped when her heel hit the bottom step up to her building's door, and she broke the kiss, then clinging to his shoulders in an effort not to fall, struggling to hold her weight on her legs as she lifted one foot onto the first step. Both their chests were heaving, and Thomas wore a wry grin.

"I've been wantin' to do that since I sent you that martini," he murmured, dipping down to kiss along her jawline, and Y/N let out a breathy chuckle.

"So you had to wait, what, three hours?" she retorted, tone dry. "Oh, how you've suffered."

"Had to wait three hours too long," he corrected her, and before she could jab back at him, his mouth again found hers. She moaned against him when he bit down lightly on her bottom lip, responding in kind by rolling her tongue teasingly against his. It was too much and yet still, not enough. His hands were all over her; she couldn't focus on how his body felt pressed into hers as the sensation quickly overwhelmed her, and when his grip on her hip tightened, she gasped into his mouth.

"Thomas, wait, I--" She was cut off before she could get the thought out. "Thom-- Mmh--!" He kissed her ardently, reveling in her response to his touch every bit as much as she was reveling in the feeling of it. Regardless, she pulled back, looking him in the eye, and held him off with a hand on his chest. "Let's go in. I'd rather be somewhere a lot warmer and a little more..." --she traced a finger down the lapel of his designer coat with a sly smile, finally using it to pull him closer-- "...private."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He split from her, tugging her alongside him and up the stairs by her hand, and her eyes widened at his frantic movements. She didn't even flinch at first, stunned by how abrupt the action had been, but when he glanced back over his shoulder at her, her fingers already linked between his, she drew in a shuddering breath.

"Let's go."

From there, their night was a blur of heavy jeans and chunky sweaters being scattered across Y/N's bedroom, their coats discarded and long forgotten not three feet past her apartment door. Whatever gods were above seemed to have smiled on her; she and Dolley both striking it lucky on the same night felt too perfect for it to be coincidental, especially as Y/N's bedroom door slammed loudly behind them, her body pinned against its interior moments later.

Every impatient touch was ablaze, brimming with fireworks and crave as her eager hands found their way up his shirt, his curls bouncing when he pulled it over his head.

It was all reckless, every second of it, but as Y/N saw it, what was the worst that could happen? The occasional uncomfortable run-in with Thomas if they passed on the street? That was beyond worth her evening of adrenaline. She gasped when he pushed her back onto her mattress, climbing on immediately after her.

"Thomas," she moaned, threading her fingers into his curls as his lips worked their way down her neck.

"What is it, sweetheart? Hm?"

She squealed when he nipped at her sensitive skin, nails digging into his upper back, but her tense muscles relaxed as he began sucking a hickey into the same spot a moment later. "I need you. Please."

She could feel his smile against her skin, the vibrations of his light chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He pulled back as the pads of his fingers dug into her hips, and she inhaled sharply. His eyes were shining, predatory and smug. "How could I say no?"

——————

COME THE NEXT morning -- or, really, the next afternoon -- Y/N was grateful to have escaped without a hangover, completely absent a headache, the light of day not even a bother as it glared past her curtains. However, the minute she tried to sit up, she realized that she certainly had a backache, and she wasn't entirely convinced her legs would be willing to work when she tried to stand.

Realization struck her a moment later; she winced as she sat bolt upright, ignoring the ache in her shoulders when she lunged for her phone. Oh, shit.

"Thomas," she hissed, shoving his snoring body through her comforter. "Thomas, wake up."

He sniffed as he shifted in her bed, trying to speak through his heavy yawn. "What's goin' on?"

"What's going on is that it's almost two o'clock." Her scowl was deep-set as she shoved the covers off of herself, paying him little mind as she began to root through her drawers for something to wear. "And you need to go. I have somewhere to be."

It hadn't occurred to her to be self-conscious as she paced through her room, but when she turned back to see Thomas's lazy stare following her still-naked body, she could feel her cheeks flare. "Get dressed."

"Alright, alright," he said, sleep still heavy in his voice as he reached for his phone where he'd discarded it on his long-abandoned jeans. She didn't see it, busy pulling on underwear and yanking on a hoodie over her the heavily-marked skin of her chest. "Fuck. I'm gonna be late."

She rolled her eyes when his own panic was finally what kicked him into gear, as he began shoving his legs back into his pants in a frenzy. "Jesus, do I need to get home," he muttered to himself, unsteadily typing something into his phone with one hand as he struggled to buckle his belt with the other. "Sorry for crashin', I--"

"It's fine; it was late as all hell," Y/N cut him off, too preoccupied to concern herself with what'd happened the night prior. She was clinging to the desperate hope that her laptop might not be dead as she dug through he drawers for its charger. "When you find all your stuff, you can just go."

"Alright. I..." He glanced to her hesitantly, pausing in his quest to put himself back together before he could flee with his dignity and whatever plans he had for that afternoon still intact. She glanced at him inquisitively in his silence. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

She offered him a small smile before he returned to trying to dig up his sweater, completely oblivious to where he could've possibly tossed it. "Let's hope so."

Those were all the words exchanged before she ducked into her bathroom, began running the shower, and wiped her smeared mascara from where it'd been running down her cheeks. Thomas left with no more pomp or circumstance.

She hardly had time to fix her appearance after she showered, doing the bare minimum before she rushed back to check on the charge her laptop had left. 74% would be enough to make it through her first lecture, right? She didn't waste a second on dwelling.

Her first class was, to her dismay, halfway across campus from her apartment. She hardly slipped into the lecture hall in time, the clock striking 2:59 PM as she took a seat toward the back, quietly greeting the person in the seat beside her as they glanced up from their phone. Maybe her rolling up less than sixty seconds before the lecture began wasn't exactly the best first impression for her, coming in as a 2nd semester junior at a new college, but she'd managed to beat Professor Jefferson, so it appeared she was safe.

It was 3:03 when he showed up; Y/N had just finished convincing the fan on her laptop to stop shrieking, had found a pen nestled into the deepest depths of her bag. She was scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter when the back doors of the lecture hall were thrown open one final time. She didn't look up at first, but his voice made her eyes widen.

"Afternoon, everybody. Hope you've all been doin' well through the long winter." His voice was upbeat as he padded down the carpeted steps toward the desk at the front of the room.

Y/N was fairly sure she was going to be sick, and unfortunately, she had no hangover to chalk it up to. Disbelief permeated her every shaky breath, the feeling trounced only by dread. Her throat had gone dry.

"For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Professor Jefferson. I started in the political science department this last fall," he said as he reached the floor, loud voice projected through every corner of the hall, tone joking when he added, "And for anyone who's eventually gonna ask, I promise 'm well aware of how young I am."

When he turned around, Y/N's worst fears were realized -- though, she was certainly surprised at how put-together he looked, having left her apartment just one short hour earlier.

"I've spent the past few years workin' in government, but I'm glad to be back in classrooms, even if I'm on the other side of 'em." He set his briefcase down on his desk, looking the room over as he withdrew his papers, opened his laptop. Y/N was sinking progressively further and further down in her chair. "I trust you've all done the assigned readin'?"

He was met with a scattered chorus of yeses and halfhearted noises of affirmation, and he chuckled. "Well, 'm glad to hear you enjoyed 'em so much."

She wasn't sure whether his words being met with soft laughs dispersed throughout the room was because of the sarcasm sitting heavy in his words, or instead because of how contagious his bright grin was.

"Alright, alright, the enthusiasm'll get there. Feel free to pull up the syllabus on whatever you've got with you, but it'll be projected up here as we go through it." The class sounded slightly more awake by then, and while it surely wasn't everyone, Y/N felt confident enough that a decent fraction of the noise was her classmates murmuring with disbelief about how this was their professor, no doubt interspersed with jokes about suddenly taking an intimate interest in political philosophy, capped off with a wink.

But she was no one to judge. Despite being unsure whether her heart was trying to beat its way through her ribcage or if it'd altogether stopped, when Thomas leaned against the front of the desk, arms folded and ankles crossed, she couldn't bring herself to regret the events of the past sixteen hours -- were she given a chance to turn back time, it was a mistake she'd readily make again.

"I'll take any questions as we go on through it," he continued, but that time, as he scanned the crowd, Y/N's luck seemed to have run out. However, though she'd been given the luxury of a gradual realisation, the inevitable punch in the gut of recognition hit him all at once. His eyes locked onto hers, immediately going wide, his expression dropping to one of alarm, and she held his gaze warily.

His silence was a fraction of a second too long, long enough to raise questions, before his self-awareness kicked in, and he picked his jaw up off the floor. The smile he plastered on was riddled with unease. "Hope everything in the course description was clear. I have no doubt this'll be an... excitin' semester."

He played off his shock easily, falling back into his upbeat persona, but as he went on, Y/N felt lucky she'd already read the syllabus — she didn't process a single word out of his mouth. The class was three hours long, and only five minutes into the first day, she’d apparently already slept with her professor.

If this was the semester she had ahead of her, then, well... 'exciting' was certainly a word for it.

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violetteshoneybee · 5 years ago

Text

Hide and kiss //

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: On a Sunday afternoon you and your friends decide to play a wizard version of Hide and Seek...

Word count: ~ 1.8k

Post date : 7/25/20

A/N: Well, that’s my first imagine I hope it’s not too bad. Please let me know if you liked it. Also, if there’s any mistake in English, please tell me. 🙏 Please check my Wattpad if you're interested in French fanfic :) https://www.wattpad.com/user/mysterioustruffle

Warning: My english :) ; fluff ; slight angst

♾️ REQUEST ARE OPEN ♾️

*Gif is not mine*

You groaned slightly while letting your potion book fell on your face. Sundays afternoons always have been a nightmare. It was so long and boring. Everybody were taking a nap or in deep studies even the marauders were calm. You wanted to raise and do something but the tall guy asleep on your stomach was keeping you from getting up. Remus was your closest friend. You were aware of his lycanthropy and how much he was suffering because of it. The last full moon almost four days ago had him exhausted but he was recovering.

You slowly passed your hand in his hair, letting it slide between your fingers. Remus’s arms clenched around you and you blushed at the sight of his cheeky smile.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Sirius exclaimed rising from the armchair where he was laying. “Let’s do something”

“Sirius, we’re in October. We can’t go outside it’s raining.” Lily whined, tearing her cover on her eyes.

“We could play Wizard Hunt? C’mon, we’re all bored as f-…”

“There’s first year, Prongs. Keep your swearing for yourself.” Remus mumbled against your shirt before rising his head.

“What are the rules?” You asked removing your y/h/c hair from before your eyes and closing your book. “I mean, I’ve never played it before so?”

“It’s a wizard version of hide and seek. But you can jinx the players when you find them. Also! Invisible cloak are forbidden.” Lily was giving a death glare to James as the others were gently chuckling. Remus stood up passing a hand in his hair. The light of the fireplace was highlighted his eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.

“I’m in.” Marlene barely opened her eyes before answering.

“Too” Peter smiled while finishing one of his amazing drawings.

“Well, it’s better than doing nothing. I’m in.” You said before getting up.

When everyone agreed to play, each of you headed to your dormitories. Lily wanted to grab some stuff and a reward for the winner while Marlene and you just wanted to ask some other girl to play with you.

After what feels like an hour of debate to know if yes or no Mary and Alice would join you, you just let go and sat on your bed. You crossed your legs watching the scene, your face reposing on your palm. You didn’t want to bring many people in that game, you knew it wouldn’t be as fun as the boys wanted it to be. And you had to admit you didn’t want other girls to come. Lily and Marlene were interested in James and Sirius and then, there was you with Remus. It became hard for you to not think about Moony. You thought your feelings weren’t shared. You fancied Remus since many years now but you never risked to tell him how you truly felt, how bad you were falling for him and how sad you were every time he was coming back of full moons with fresh new scars. Usually at this time, he would just nudged his nose in your neck and ask to cuddle. Recently, Remus began to avoid you before and after every full moon. You couldn’t help but feel hurt. Follow me I'm escaping you; escape me and I will follow you… It was making you sick.

In the boys' dormitories, the marauders were reunited on their bed, chatting together. His head stuck between a pillow and the mattress, Remus groaned, visibly annoyed by the discussion.

“You’re being quite rude with Y/N. That’s our friend Moony, remember?” James calmly said

“I can’t just tell her: Hello Y/n, I may have a huge crush on you but whatever haha yes, of course, we can still be friends.”

“You can,” Peter exclaimed, pulling one of your letter in front of Remus nose. “So you’re telling us, you write to her every day but you can’t just tell her that you fancy her.”

“No.”

“You know what? We won't let you waste your chances. If you lose, if we find you, you’ll have to tell her everything.” Sirius’ lips turned in a mischievous smile as Remus sighed.

"Okay," Remus removed the pillow from his face and took a look at his friends' face. "And if I win?"

James and Sirius burst in laugh. "You won't."

--------------------------------------------------

You ran through the corridor, letting your eyes travel on every door. It was almost time for Sirius to come search for you all so when you heard his voice singing that he was coming, you couldn’t help but panic. You felt a hand grabbing you waist and pulling you inside a small closet, you keep your eyes closed thinking it would be a boggart but Remus’s soft voice calling for you make your heart melt and your eyes opened wide.

“You’re fine?”

“Yes… You’re quite cute for a boggart.” You joked slightly.

“Thanks, to be honest, you're not as bad as Filch”

You chuckled before having Remus’ index on your lips as a silencing way. You nodded before taking a step back and hitting the wall of the closet. You two were so closed you could feel his breath on your neck, the heat radiating your skin.

“Don’t move, I’m gonna give you some extra space.” You said following your instruction.

“You don’t have to.”

“Well, you’re taller than me and you’re not a contortionist, Rem.”

Remus sighed before letting his head rest on the corner, his eyes travelling around you. He was doing all he can to not look at you, he was too embarrassed and well, he didn’t know what would happen if he did look at you.

During almost 5 minutes neither of you were talking but you could swear Remus was able to hear your heartbeat. Godric, it was so fast you were wondering if you weren’t dying of a heart attack. And let’s not talk about how red your cheeks were. You were almost sure Remus could see them. You moved just a few centimetres to release the tension in your arm as Remus beat himself against the closet door.

“Ouch!” You chuckled watching him rubbing his head. You were about to talk when you heard footsteps. Remus glared at you, pulling out his wand.

You heard distinctly Sirius's voice when he opened the closet, sending an expelliarmus in Remus way.

“Well, well, well… It looks like you lose Moony. I hope you two will have a nice time!” He smirked before closing door, preventing you from exiting.

“Wait, Sirius!”

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. Again Remus was trying hard to avoid the eye contact. At this sight, you felt your heart broke a little more. You couldn’t bear it anymore. You were losing one of the most important people in your life and you did not even know why.

“What’s the problem, Rem? What did I do?” You asked softly, you couldn't help but play with your hands as all kind of answers were passing throughout your mind. "If I did or said anything that offended you, please... Please, tell me."

"It's not you."

"Oh come on, don't play this card with me..." You sighed. You never meant to hurt him and seeing him leaving your side was an awful feeling. "I don't want to lose our friendship, Remus. I-... Tell me what's the matter so we can fix it. It's... breaking my heart."

Remus sighed "The fact is, I don't want our friendship anymore Y/N."

Your eyes widened as you felt the air leaving your lungs. You desperately search Remus's eyes, analysing his face in hope to find a hint that he 's joking. Your hands were shaking like hell. You slowly swallowed, putting your hands in your pockets and taking your wand.

"Well, at least, thank you for being honest." Your voice was crackling between the words while your vision began to blurred, tears already falling on your cheeks.

Faster than you could say quidditch, you were running in Hogwarts's corridors. They've never seemed so long for you. This atrocious feeling in your lungs did not help. You were feeling like your breath was cut by a knot in your throat. Your entire body was shaking and you didn't know if it was because of the cold or because of your tears.

Despite the mess in your head, you knew perfectly where you were heading. The cold wind hit your cheeks and your already red nose as you exited the castle. Your tears were blending themselves with the rain. When you finally reach the Black Lake's shore you felt released. You sat on the dark sand, your legs against your chest and your face buried in your hands. You weren't fully there anymore. Your brain was concentrate on the sounds of the water and trees around you. The powerful wind was lifting your hair from your shoulders.

When Remus watched you running away from him, he felt like if you were taking a part of his world from him. Your part. He clenched his fist and came out of the closet. You were already too far. Remus was cursing himself for being so stupid. He should have told you that he wanted more than your friendship, that he was actually in love with you. Then, he saw you on the shore, completely soaked. It forced a smile on his lips.

Remus approached you, thinking about all these things he loved in you. How kind and gentle your smile was, how your eyes widened when you were talking about something you were passionate about. How you were able to see the good in people who lost hope. And your amazing y/e/c eyes which had the talent to make him melt without even a word.

He remembered all that before removing his cloak and pulling it on you. You lifted your head, your eyes piercing through his.

"I'm in love with you. That's what I meant when I was saying I didn't want our friendship anymore. You make my world better by just being you. You put your arms around me and I literally feel my knees buckle, this is so pathetic. I’m just not good enough." Remus revealed softly

"I love you too, Remus Lupin." You said getting up and passing a hand in his neck.

Remus mouth curled into a smile while his eyes were travelling from your eyes to your lips, asking permission to kiss you.

“Then, may I?”

You chuckled before crashing your lips against his. You two wanted this for so long. The taste, his hands on your waist everything was overwhelming.

"I love you, Y/N..."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #writing #fanfic #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #first imagine #first fanfic #imagine

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blackcatkita · 5 years ago

Text

The Consequence of Secrets- Chapter 26

The Things That Never Change, and The One That Changes Everything

Liam x Jennifer (MC), Drake x Olivia

Let’s skip the part where I apologize for taking so long and promise to get the next chapter out more quickly, shall we? At this point I feel like I’m just jinxing myself when I say that. Word count is 4972 and I hope you like it! I know I do, but if YOU do, please like, comment, or reblog. I appreciate every single note!

Groaning into his pillow, Drake blindly swipes toward the ungodly sound coming from the nightstand. The clumsy gesture does nothing to stop the noise but knocks the phone to the floor where the alarm he set only a few hours before continues to torment him out of reach.

Shifting a quarter turn, he hangs off the side of the bed to reach the damn thing and turns it off. Chin resting on the side of the mattress and his hands on the floor, he closes his eyes to enjoy the silence, knowing another alarm will go off in five minutes. He hasn’t even sat up yet and he already can’t wait to take a nap. But that will have to wait. He has shit to do, a pissed off girlfriend’s ass to kiss and a King and Queen in need of toiletries and a change of clothes. It’s gonna be a day. Again.

After a quick shower, a cup of stale coffee from the kitchenette alcove in his quarters and a call to check on Olivia’s ETA, he feels slightly more human and less like the walking dead. He grabs his old denim shirt from the closet for old time’s sake and slips it on, recalling what Olivia said as he fastens the buttons. ‘I’ll get there when I get there, don’t worry about when it is. Go do what you’re supposed to be doing and take care of Liam and Jennifer.’ So warm and fuzzy his woman is. A regular wallflower. But though her tone was laced with snark, as usual, she didn’t sound as pissed off as she had been so… here’s hoping he was wrong and whatever she wanted to talk to him about before he left for the capital wasn’t a big deal after all.

Down one hall, a right turn and down another, Drake reaches the double doors of the Royal Chambers, having had to endure several double-takes and apprehensive stares from palace staff along the way. It’s to be expected after what went down but a damn ‘hello’ would be nice. Though he could also say ‘hello’ to them first, if he wanted to be sucked into a conversation that is. Which he doesn’t.

Using the key Liam gave him not long after the area was renovated, he lets himself into the large, open space, bright from the morning sun shining through the floor to ceiling windows. The memory of the last time he stood here flashes in his mind; he and Liam rolling around the floor kicking the shit out of each other, then being unceremoniously dragged out by guards. He forces the thought away and focuses on another time they stood in this space; back when Liam trusted him and considered him his brother.

It was the day before they were due in Fydelia to begin Liam and Madeleine’s engagement tour and they hadn’t seen or spoken to Jennifer in weeks. All they knew was she was safe with the Beaumont’s but they didn’t know who was behind the plot, who they could trust or what the future would hold. Despite it all, every detail of the three-bedroom renovation Liam was showing him was designed with Jennifer in mind; from the Brazilian walnut floors and concrete countertops to the damn light fixtures. He had spared no expense and it really had turned out perfectly. Classy, but not pretentious. Elegant, but not stuffy. He built them a home they could be themselves in, within the confines of the Royal Palace. Ever the cynic, Drake had asked what he would do with it if he ended up married to Madeleine and Liam had answered, “Then should she want it, it will be Jennifer’s alone. Though every day I pray we will live here together and raise our family as husband and wife.”

Grinning at the memory, Drake crosses the living room to the stairs and a glint of gold on one of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace catches his eye. He sucks in a breath, stopping in his tracks when he recognizes the item responsible. The next moment has him standing in front of the shelves, with no recollection of walking over or picking up the antique compass he gave Liam as a wedding gift. The breath he’d been holding slowly releases from his lungs as he looks down at it, both shocked and not at all surprised Liam kept it on display. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he kept putting it away and Jennifer kept putting it back. Maybe he only recently… Ah, hell, he’s putting a lot of thought into something that had probably been sitting there forgotten the whole time.

Setting it back on the shelf, he scrubs his hand down his face and turns around. He screams, throwing himself back into the wooden edges of the bookcase. Books fall around him as from the couch, Maxwell screams back at him, bolting up to a sitting position and dumping poor Chance onto the floor from where he’d been sleeping tucked against Maxwell’s chest. The dog runs around and around an armchair, barking his little head off as Liam and Jennifer’s second corgi darts behind the other chair, nails skittering across the floor as her paws try to find purchase on the wood.

As he stands there trying to catch his breath, Drake’s heart thumps against the palm he has pressed to his chest. “Jesus Christ, Maxwell! You trying to give me a heart attack?!”

“Me?!” Maxwell stares back with wild eyes, clutching the blanket tightly against his baby hippo tattoo. His hair is plastered to one side of his head and the rest is sticking up every which way. He looks like a madman. “You’re the intruder! I was just sleeping here, man!”

“I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Crouching down to the floor, Drake holds out his hand and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. Chance closes the few feet of distance between them, sniffing the proffered hand before nudging it with his nose to accept pets. “I just came to pack a bag for Liam and Jennifer.”

Maxwell releases his hold on the blanket and places his hands on the couch to either side of him as he leans forward. “Is she okay? Did you talk to her?”

“A little bit,” Drake replies, giving Chance belly rubs as he rolls over. “She was pretty out of it.”

“Is she okay though? All I know is she had surgery but what was wrong with her?” The manic look is back in his eyes and his words are coming out in a rush. “Liam is freaking out, isn’t he? Is Little Maxwell okay? Nobody tells me anything!”

Pressing his lips together, Drake lets out a slow breath through his nose as he stands. “Ok, one, even if it is a boy they’re not naming their baby Maxwell and two, I texted you like seven times.”

“You did?” Maxwell grabs his phone from the coffee table and smiles as he looks down at it. “Ha. I guess you did.”

Eyebrow quirked, Drake nods. “Yeah.”

“Shh! I’m reading…”

Drake rolls his eyes. “Alright, well, while you get caught up I’m gonna grab their stuff.” As Maxwell starts to get up from the couch, Drake holds up his hand and shakes his head. “No, I don’t need your help. It will go much quicker without you. You’ve got ten minutes to get dressed if you want to go back to the hospital with me.” Picking up the empty duffel bag, he walks away and makes it halfway up the stairs before adding, “And for God’s sake, do something with your hair.”

A half an hour later, Drake stands in the foyer with a more presentable Maxwell, both of them armed with a packed duffel bag slung over their shoulders. In Drake’s, Jennifer’s purse and phone, chargers, toiletries and a change of clothes for both of them. In Maxwell’s, a deck of cards, seven different novels, a stack of magazines, a corgi plushie, a teddy bear, and Jennifer’s pillow.

“Ok.” Drake turns to Maxwell and pins him with a stern expression. “Those vultures are going to be looking for info and until Liam or Jennifer decides otherwise, it’s none of their damn business. So, when we get out there, we move quickly and quietly. Do not talk to, smile at, laugh, wink or even so much as look at anyone. We do not engage. Understand?”

Maxwell nods once, firmly. “Act like Drake. Got it.”

Resisting the urge to go over the rules again, Drake opens the door just far enough to stick his head through, checking to make sure the hallway is empty before he steps into it. “Alright, let’s go.”

“So…” Maxwell says as he shuts the door behind him and falls in step beside Drake. “I know we’re not supposed to talk to anyone but, what if it’s like, Olivia or something?”

“Olivia isn’t here.”

“She didn’t come with you?”

“No.”

“How come?”

Exasperated, Drake stops at the juncture of two hallways. “What part of quietly did you not understand?” Before Maxwell even has a chance to open his mouth, it feels like the air around them is sucked out of existence and a chill runs down Drake’s spine. He turns to the right, gazing down the long hallway to the door separating the residential wing from the rest of the palace and there she is, the one person he dreaded seeing most. Madeleine. Her cold, dead eyes narrow as their eyes lock and the chill turns into a full shudder like his body knows it’s in the presence of pure evil.

“We’ve been made!” Maxwell yelps, shocking Drake out of the spell the witch put on him.

Instinct kicks in and it only takes a split second for him to assess the situation. A mere twenty feet stands between them and the door to the garage. And while they are laden with the bags, Madeleine has three times the distance and a right turn to cover; and she’s wearing heels. “Run for it!” Drake shouts, grabbing onto Maxwell’s shoulder and giving him a shove as Madeleine steps forward. Hearing her shoes clacking against the marble floor as she chases after them, they sprint for the door like the devil is on their heels, because she is. He reaches it, heart racing and breathless as he pulls his keys from the front pocket of his jeans. With Maxwell bouncing nervously beside him, he fumbles with the ring, hands shaking as he finds the right key and slams it home. He flings the door open and rushes into the garage, only to be stopped by a strangled cry behind him. Whirling back around, he finds Maxwell, straining against the strap on his shoulder with panic in his eyes.

“Forget about me!” he shouts. “Save yourself!”

A deep, hearty laugh bursts from Drake’s lips, the first in a long time and damn if it doesn’t feel good. He rushes back to save his friend, checking behind him to see what the problem is. “You’re stuck on the doorknob. Quit pulling.”

“Help me!”

“I’m trying!” Drake laughs, finally getting Maxwell free as Madeleine rounds the corner. “Go! Go! Go!” Dragging Maxwell through the door, he slams it behind them and locks it, cutting off Madeleine as she yells something about acting like children.

Maxwell drops his bag and bends forward, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees. “That… was close.”

“Yeah, no shit. Of all the people to find us.”

“Right?” Maxwell agrees. “Does she have a key?”

“I doubt it,” Drake shrugs. “I don’t think she’s driven herself anywhere in her life. Probably shouldn’t wait around for her to find one though.” Or for anyone else to stop them. All he has to do is stop to grab Liam some food, check-in with him and Jennifer when they drop off the bags and make it back to the palace with enough time to take a much-needed nap before Olivia arrives. The trick will be reigning Maxwell in, but Drake is not above leaving his ass there should he not know when it’s time to leave.

“Agreed,” Maxwell nods and picks up his bag. “Let’s roll, partner.”

From the palace to Seraphim’s diner, Maxwell was his usual self, but as they left with Liam’s lunch, his demeanor changed and it only got worse the closer they got to the hospital. By the time they were cleared through the secured side entrance and wound their way through the halls, he wasn’t talking at all and his steps were slow and deliberate like he was physically forcing himself to move forward.

Stepping onto the lift and hitting the button for the fifth floor, Drake tries once again to engage in conversation as the doors slide shut. “I wonder how long it will take the press to catch wind of this. I can’t believe they aren’t swarming the place already.”

Maxwell only nods in response, staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched. His breathing is ragged and coming too fast and he’s got the bag strap in a white-knuckled grip. The guy is not doing well at all, and Drake is afraid he’s either going to pass out or throw up; maybe both.

Drake grips Maxwell’s shoulder tightly, speaking in what he hopes is a soothing voice. “Hey, she’s okay.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Maxwell looks away and down at the floor, but not before Drake sees his lower lip tremble.

The lift comes to a stop and as the doors open, Drake gives Maxwell’s shoulder one more squeeze. “Come on. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

“I’m umm…” Maxwell swallows hard, gesturing at the sitting area in front of them as they step out into the foyer. “I’m just going to wait out here.”

“She’s going to want to see you. You know that, right?”

Maxwell shrugs dejectedly and starts to head to one of the chairs.

Ah, hell. Maxwell may be the goofy, fun-loving optimist everyone knew, but those close to him know he’s one of the most caring, compassionate and empathetic people you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting. He’s the one who found Jennifer; sat with her before Liam got there when nobody knew what was happening and considering how much she means to him, it’s no wonder he’s having a hard time with seeing her again. Drake should have seen it coming and if he hadn’t isolated himself in Lythikos for so long, maybe he would have. “Give me the bag,” Drake tells him, holding out his hand. Maxwell hands it over, then turns away again without a word. “Room 505. Come in when you’re ready.”

One duffel slung over his shoulder and another with a white bag of greasy diner food balanced on top in his hand, Drake rounds the corner to Jennifer’s room. Halfway down the hall, he hears laughter coming from inside her room and relief washes over him, bringing with it a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in he doesn’t know how long. He nods to the two guards posted outside, thinking he should have brought them food as well as he lets himself into the room.

Jennifer is sitting up in bed, fresh-faced and her long brown hair pulled up into a ponytail with Liam perched at her side, their focus only on each other as they laugh. Hearing the doctor say the surgery went well, talking to her in her doped-up state, even Liam telling him the palace was still his home; none of those things compared to the sight of them together. Uninhibited, happy and carefree; like they’re supposed to be.

“Stop… stop… stop…” Jennifer pants, leaning over to place her hand on Liam’s forearm. “I just had surgery, you know!”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Liam chuckles. “I had almost forgotten why we were here.”

Smiling, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes as Liam kisses the back of her hand. She glances over and seeing Drake, her smile widens. “Drake! You’re here! And you’re… moving in?”

“Ha-Ha.” Drake slips off the bag and places them both against the wall. He turns around, rolling his shoulder to ease the ache Maxwell’s heavy ass bag caused. “Half the hospital can hear you two cackling in here. What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Liam was telling me about what I did while I was coming off anesthesia. Apparently, I told the nurse I married good, not to get any ideas and that I was watching her.”

Liam nods, grinning like a fool. “Then she said, and I quote, ‘Just give it here. It’s cute and tight and I wanna touch it’ before grabbing my backside. And when I took her hand to stop the assault, she blew a raspberry at me, called me a ‘mean man’ and shouted, ‘I let you touch my butt whenever you want’.”

Drake raises his eyebrows. “Wow.”

“Whatever,” Jennifer shrugs, looking not the least bit embarrassed as she grabs a jello cup and spoon off the over-bed tray. “I feel like I’d do all those things without being under the influence of propofol. Oh! Check this out!” She holds out her arm, showing him a plastic contraption with two dangly bits taped to her skin. “It’s called a PICC line and it goes in here then snakes through my vein alllll the way up and stops near my heart. That way they don’t have to keep poking me for my antibiotics and stuff. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Fascinating.” Drake turns away, bending down to grab Liam’s food off the top of the duffel bag. “Here. Figured you’d be hungry.”

“What is that?” Jennifer licks her lips, her eyes following the bag as Drake passes it over her bed to Liam.

“Seraphim’s?” Liam asks.

“Of course, Seraphim’s,” Drake scoffs. “Like I’d get you a burger and fries from anywhere else.”

“Why…” Jennifer looks up at Drake, brow furrowed and her lips parted as she shakes her head, like she can’t comprehend what is happening. “Why would you bring yummy and delicious food from my favorite diner when I can’t eat anything?! I thought you were my friend!”

“Sorry,” Drake shrugs. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, one which he quickly covers with his palm so as not to anger the queen further. She can be scary when she wants to be.

“I can see you smiling!” She looks to Liam for support but the insulted look on her face changes to a scowl when she sees the fry halfway to his mouth.

“What?” Liam has the good sense to look guilty, but he still eats the fry. “I haven’t eaten since early yesterday.”

“Neither have I! Before that even!” she retorts, watching him chew. “Give me one.” She reaches for the bag and Liam pulls it away.

“No. You’re on a clear liquid diet for twenty-four hours. No exceptions.”

“Remember when I said you were a mean man? I stand by it.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Liam laughs. “But I won’t take the chance of you making yourself sick for a french fry. Follow the rules today and if all goes well, tomorrow we will get you whatever you want. Though I am glad to see you seem to be getting your appetite back.”

She lets out a whiny groan and slumps back against her pillow, pouting as she rips the top off her container of lime jello and throws it aggressively onto the tray. “It’s not even a good flavor.” The jello makes an unpleasant squelch as she digs the spoon in.

“Which flavor do you like better?” Liam asks. “I’ll get it for you.”

“Red.” Swallowing a spoonful, she shivers in disgust. “Blech.”

“Red is a color, not a flavor,” Drake points out. The look he receives from her in response is unpleasant, to say the least, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Never mind.”

“Ok, how about this,” Jennifer looks at Liam with a hopeful expression. “Let me smell the bag while I eat, and that way, it will taste like real food.”

Drake grimaces. “I feel like that may be going too far and it’s very weird.”

“Says the guy who can eat whatever he wants,” she grumbles at the jello.

“You are adorable,” Liam smiles fondly at her. “While you’re free to… sniff my food anytime you wish, I’m not sure that’s going to work. I also don’t trust you not to snatch it as soon as my guard is down.” That gets a laugh out of her and when Liam catches Drake’s eye across the bed, he smiles.

“You know what? That is a completely valid point,” she sighs dramatically, digging back into her ‘meal’. “At least this is better than the so-called chicken broth you made me finish. Saltwater was more like it.”

There’s a tentative knock on the door and Jennifer sets the cup down as they all look to see who it is. Maxwell enters, looking more disheveled than when they arrived but less than when Drake woke him up. Like he had run his hand through his hair a few too many times while psyching himself up to come in. He lingers by the door, wringing his hands together as his eyes move to Drake, then Liam, and finally Jennifer. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he wraps his arms around himself as tears fill his eyes and Drake follows his line of sight to see Jennifer’s reaction.

The greeting she was undoubtedly about to give dies on her lips and her face crumbles, eyes glistening with tears of her own as she holds out her arms. Without a word, Liam stands from the bed and Drake steps back as Maxwell closes the distance between him and Jennifer to burrow himself into her embrace.

She cradles him in her arms, one hand cupping the back of his head and the other rubbing his shoulders as they shake with sobs. “I’m okay, Maxwell,” she whispers. “I’m okay.”

“I was so scared,” Maxwell hiccups into her hair. “I thought you were going to die.”

“I know.” She blinks and tears roll down her cheeks. “But you found us. You saved our lives, Maxwell. You don’t have to worry anymore. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Liam swallows hard, trying and failing to hold in his emotions as he watches the exchange. “We’ll give you two some privacy.”

Jennifer looks up at him with a shaky smile, nodding her head and mouthing the words ‘Thank you’.

Liam gives her thigh a gentle squeeze, then looks at Drake and tips his head towards the door.

“Might want to grab that bag,” Drake tells him, gesturing at the food Liam set down when he stood. Behind Maxwell’s head, Jennifer gives him the finger.

Picking it up, Liam follows Drake to the door, speaking low enough only he can hear as they exit into the hallway. “I believe you are correct. For the sake of my marriage, I think it’s best I eat elsewhere.”

Drake laughs in agreement but as the seconds tick by, an awkward silence falls between them. He wants to know what the doctors have said; is she really going to be okay, is the medication working, but it isn’t his place to ask anymore. No, he’ll just stand here with his hands in his pockets, not knowing how to mend the bridge that’s been burnt between him and his brother.

“They said her white blood cell count continues to decrease.” Now that Liam’s away from Jennifer, the lines of stress and anxiety he had before have returned to his face. “It’s too soon to tell, but so far they’ve been able to stop the infection.”

Relieved, Drake sighs. “That’s good. And she’s obviously feeling better.”

“How much of that is the medication, though?” Liam asks, walking a few feet down the hall. “She’s on anti-nausea meds, morphine for the pain… they’re pumping antibiotics straight into her bloodstream three times a day. She’s worried about how it will all affect the baby but without it…” He shakes his head, unable to finish the thought and scrubs his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this.”

“Come on, Liam, we’re brothers. There’s no apology needed.”

Liam huffs out a humorless laugh, one corner of his mouth twitching. “I have much to apologize for, Drake.”

“Yeah, me too.” Looking down at the floor, Drake shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as the silence stretches between them again. “You better go eat. It’s probably ice cold by now.”

“There’s a microwave down the hall.”

“Oh,” Drake nods. He takes his hands out of his pockets, starts to put them back in and rubs the back of his neck instead. Say something. Do something. Anything. Just stop fidgeting. “I’m gonna go get some coffee. Want me to bring you some?”

“Sure. Thank you.” The grin on Liam’s face quickly melts away as his eyes narrow slightly and the hint of a furrow forms between his brows. It’s a look Drake has seen on his face countless times. He’s contemplating something and isn’t sure how to proceed; or if he should. To save him the trouble, Drake turns away, only making it a couple of steps when Liam speaks again. “Drake?”

He turns back around to look at Liam. “Yeah?”

Liam swallows nervously and glances to the side then takes a deep breath and looks Drake in the eye. “There are things I need to say but with everything going on… maybe once she’s back home and settled you and I can sit down and have the discussion we should have had months ago. If you’re agreeable to it, of course.”

Drake nods. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Flashing a relieved grin, Liam lifts the bag of food. “I’m going to…”

“Yeah, go eat. I’ll see you in a few.” Drake watches as Liam walks back towards Jennifer’s room, his gait somewhat easier and the set of his shoulders lighter as he stops to talk to Bastien and the other guards. The captain catches Drake’s eye and they give each other a firm nod before Drake turns to leave, both excited and nervous as all hell for the conversation that’s been a long time coming.

Two hours later, after watching Maxwell catalog everything he brought, listening to him complain about Drake not letting him pack Monopoly and a chess set, and saying goodbye to Liam and Jennifer, Drake finally returns to his quarters. Opening the door, he finds Olivia, sitting straight-backed in one of his armchairs with her hands in her lap and her legs pressed together. “Hey,” he greets her, closing the door behind him. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

“You’d be back eventually,” Olivia shrugs. “How is she?”

“Much better than she was.” He tosses his keys onto the small table beside the door and walks over to the couch, sinking into it with a groan. “Liam said she’s on a bunch of meds but so far they’ve stopped the infection. Nothing to do but wait I suppose, but she looks good. A little whiny and dramatic but for the most part, she was acting like herself.”

“Good.” Olivia pauses, running her hands down her thighs to smooth non-existent wrinkles from her black leggings. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He leans forward, sighing as he threads his fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you’re pissed about the way I’ve been handling things with Liam and with us but…”

She holds up her hand, palm facing forward as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Drake, stop.”

“Let me finish.” Scooting closer to her, he takes her hand, cradling it in both of his. “I should have come to the picnic with you, shouldn’t have shut you down every time you tried to convince me of what an ass I was being. All you were trying to do was get me to fix things with Liam and I should have listened to you. Because you were right, I was scared. I was scared of facing him and I was scared of opening myself up again and that’s why I held myself back with you. But I’m done with all of it.” He takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart and squeezes her hand until her gorgeous green eyes meet his. “You’re beautiful and capable, sweeter than you pretend to be and you scare the shit out of me. You drive me crazy but damn it, I love you. I love you, Olivia. I’ve loved you for a long time and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

She gasps, staring at him with wide eyes and her lips parted as she slowly shakes her head. “That’s not what I wanted to…”

“Not what you wanted to hear?”

“No! No, I…” She releases a shuddering breath, and her gaze falls to where her hand is trembling in his. “I have something to tell you.”

Cold dread sweeps across the back of his neck and instinctively, he pulls away. “What is it?” he asks, not wanting to hear the answer but needing to all the same. She opens her mouth to speak, three, four times before closing it again and when their eyes lock, he sees a vulnerability he hasn’t seen from her since they were kids. Whatever it is, she’s afraid to tell him and that fact alone makes him snap, “For God’s sake, spit it out, woman!”

Anger flashes in her eyes and she purses her lips, looking like if she had a knife in her hand he’d be bleeding on the floor. “Congratulations. You’re going to be a father.”

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

#the consequence of secrets #liam x mc #drake x olivia #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #choices trr #choices trh #liam x jennifer

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j-hawthorn · 4 years ago

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Books and Bubble Baths

Chapter one (read on AO3 - link posted as source)

Closing down the bookshop had an almost meditative feeling. The clock ticked over and Aziraphale turned the key in the ancient metal till. The draw popped out with gentle ping. Unfortunately, there had actually been customers. He methodically counted, then placed the coins and notes in little baggies.

The shop was silent, save for the ticking of the clock. With most of the lights switched off, the shadows deepened pleasantly. He took his time, savouring the feeling of a thousand books sighing and settling on the shelves. Being winter, the sun had set long ago and cool air leaked in through gaps in the old walls. Rain began to patter on windows, turning the street lights outside into mottled, ever shifting shapes.

It hadn’t been a bad day. A young gentleman had come in with a box of unwillingly inherited books. The boy hadn’t a single clue what he had, and while Aziraphale wasn’t going to swindle the poor lad, he certainly hadn’t paid anywhere near what the books were worth. He felt a small pang of guilt at that. But really, he’d saved the them from being dumped in a second-hand shop bin, or from sitting unloved on a shelf collecting dust. It wasn’t his fault the lad didn’t do a lick of research. Now the books could sit on his shelf where he could look at them admiringly.

Aziraphale pulled on his soft cotton gloves, and peeked into the box on his desk. They weren’t in the best condition but nothing a little love couldn’t fix. From the top drawer of the desk, Aziraphale pulled out a metal box. He flicked the latch, and set out his supplies. He rolled a length of cotton on the desk, placing the first book on top. The pages were a little yellowed on the edges and the cover had some odd dark marks, but all and all, not too bad. The angel dabbed a little eucalyptus oil on a soft cloth. He slowly wiped the marks away, happy in his work and breathing in the pleasant scent.

The shop door bell tinkled faintly. Yet the door was locked. The angel didn't look up. His heart, however, did an excited little flip. Aziraphale didn't stop taking the books out of the box even as pale arms snaked down over his shoulders. He smiled to himself, feeling the brush of hair on his cheek and the pleasing weight of Crowley leaning on him.

'Hello, Angel...' the demon purred, yawning softly.

'When you said you were going for a nap, dear boy, I didn't realise you meant for six months,' Aziraphale said, running a gloved finger down the books spine.

Crowley gave a throaty chuckle, 'Was tired.'

'Apparently so -' He shivered, feeling water dripping under his collar, '- If you drip on the books, by golly you'll be sorry! Aren’t you freezing?’ He turned in the embrace, staring directly into his reflection in demon’s sunglasses. His breath fogged the lenses, their noses barely an inch apart. Crowley looked a mess. Their hair was all over the place, clothing rumpled and drenched from the rain. They had the smell of sleep about them, soft yet oddly sour. Crowley slipped away, and the angel felt the absence like a sting.

The demon shrugged one shoulder, ‘S’ not too bad.’ Hand shoved in their jacket pocket they snooped around the shelves, long fingers walking along spines.

Aziraphale felt the distance slowly growing. He took a step forward, ‘You should have a bath and warm up. I could get us some dinner -’ Crowley cocked a brow and he sighed. ‘- Alright, get me some dinner and us some wine.’

‘What about your date there?’ The demon wiggled a finger at the box of books, ‘Looks to me like you had a full evening planned.’

‘They can wait -’

‘- Wouldn’t want to impose-’

‘- I missed you,’ Aziraphale said bluntly.

Crowley was still for a second before rubbing the back of their neck, ‘Gonna order in? I could murder a pork bun.’

‘As you wish, dear.’

Crowley slunk away to Aziraphale’s small flat. The angel listened to their steps fade, then slowly picked up the telephone handset. He waited in the shop for the delivery, hands on his knees. His chest felt tight. He wasn’t mad. Except that he really, really, was. They’d had gaps before, sometimes for decades. But after their little talk/confessions – and even though all they’d done was talk - he hadn’t expected a gap so soon, no matter how small. Their relationship had somehow shifted monumentally, yet also stayed exactly the same. It was just all a bit...new and raw. Which was a very strange feeling when you’ve known someone for thousands of years.

The rain was hammering down now. When the delivery person arrived, Aziraphale performed a minor miracle – the sweet girl would find that against all odds she was warm, dry and the little tip jar on the shop counter was fuller. He trotted up stairs.

His flat was small, but comfortable, and really just there for the look of it. With a thought he set the fire roaring, filling the living space with a wave of warmth. He could hear the flow of water from his ensuite, the door slightly ajar. Steam flowed in thick wisps.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ He asked, popping on the jug.

'Nah, thanks though,’ Crowley called. They then gave a happy hiss followed by splashing water. From the sound of it, the demon had forgone their human body, the odd sloshing from the tub signifying that a very large serpent was now coiling in the heat. Aziraphale imagined their little snout poking out of the water and chuckled to himself. He went about setting the table, making himself a cup of tea. The world grew quiet once more. Aziraphale nursed his drink, listening to the rain and the occasional serpentine sigh.

He got to thinking how a few years ago, after some Hellish job, Crowley had come over, sat on the tile floor of Aziraphale's ensuite and taken scissors to their long red hair. They didn't need to cut it, with barely a thought the demon could change their appearance any which-way, but Aziraphale suspected it was the physicality of the act Crowley wanted. It was a rough job. The angel watched, and poured them both a glass of wine. He hadn’t offered to help. He’d simply waited, sipping his drink and leaned on the door frame.

Without turning Crowley had thrust the scissors at him. Taking the hint, the angel silently ran his fingers through the demon's hair, evening out the cut to something resembling tidy. Then they drank, yelled and joked about something inane, and never spoke of it.

But Aziraphale had found himself thinking about it these past months alone. His mind would drift to the feeling of his fingers running though their hair, or how they had leaned back against his legs, head falling forward, long legs bent awkwardly in front of them. How exposed the back of their neck had been and how he had found himself letting his fingers brush along the skin there, feeling the shift of bone under skin. Feeling how very real this creature was. And just how honoured he’d felt being allowed to be the one to touch them when they were vulnerable.

Aziraphale brought his curled forefinger to his lips and sighed. He’d felt far too alone these last few months, and -

‘I dreamt about you, you know,’ Crowley called from the bath.

The angel's stomach tightened, knocking from his thoughts. He looked up, staring at the door. 'Did you really?' He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice, a little hitch of breath.

'Yeah – wish it was dirtier though,' The demon snickered from the bath. Aziraphale rolled his eyes. The same old game. A cheeky comment here, a touch of skin there, but nothing would ever come of it. He’d wanted to kiss them that night, half a year ago. Fear held him back and now in its stead was regret. He ran his fingertip over the whorl in the tables grain, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. He was given blessed distraction with the worrying sound of cabinets opening and shutting.

'Oh ho ho, thought you could hide it from me, eh Angel?' Crowley began splashing again.

Aziraphale groaned, 'You always make such a mess! I wouldn't have to hide it if you had any semblance of self control.'

'I like the bubbles!' Crowley hissed.

'Keep them in the tub this time!'

Crowley laughed, unabashed and delightful. The sound was beautiful, and the angel couldn’t help but smile. Make a mess, he thought, it doesn’t matter. Just keep laughing.

'Angel?’ They called. ‘Do you ever get bored of these little human bodies?'

'I suppose so, dear, why?'

'I'm gonna have a switch up – I miss having tits.'

'Do you have to be so vulgar?'

They laughed again. Then the ugly sucking sound of the tub draining filled the flat. Crowley sidled barefoot into the main room, long legs bare. They had changed their body in subtle ways from masculine to a more feminine androgyny. The demon was wearing one of Aziraphale's cardigans, the plush (and expensive) garment swamping their thin body. A short black skirt hit them half way up the thigh, peeking out of the bottom of the jumper. They rolled the sleeves, giving the angel a crooked smile.

Aziraphale watched them snatch up the pork bun, container and all, and sit in front of the fire. Their dark red hair clung in wet whorls around their forehead and down their back. This was all very...domestic. And comfortable. He ate his food in silence, while the demon curled in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance. The light reflected in their glasses. Crowley held the container in both hands, sighing softly, but not eating. Aziraphale knew it was something they did very rarely, like him with sleep, and he wondered if in all honesty Crowley only did it because he did.

The food wasn’t great. It wasn’t bad, he didn’t regret his choice of dumplings, but take out was never his favourite – it got too cold too fast and always smelled better than it tasted.

Aziraphale brought a bottle of wine and two glasses over to his armchair by the fire. He poured, and ignored the uncomfortably organic sound of Crowley lowering one half of their bottom jaw, then the other, gulping the bun down in one go – container along with it.

‘You’re going to give yourself a stomach ache,’ He tutted, crossing his legs.

Crowley wrinkled their nose, eyeing him over the rim of their wineglass, ‘Never have, never will.’ They smirked, curling their legs under themself.

The two of them fell back into old patterns of loose laughter, and loose limbs. Soon the pair were onto their second bottle of wine, the flat hot and the world forgotten.

The top button of Crowley's cardigan was undone and the soft wool slumped down, revealing one pale, bony shoulder. The demon was talking, hands waving in the air, but Aziraphale wasn't listening. He watched as a bead of water from their still damp hair trailed down their neck, and along their prominent collarbone. He peeled his eyes away, focusing now on the flush of his companion's cheeks, the way the colour met the tips of their ears. And how as they smiled, giggling at their own joke, he wasn't upset at their absence. How could he be, when this beautiful creature, who once built entire galaxies now sat with their arm draped over his knee and snorted when they laughed?

'Uh, hello?' Crowley waved a hand in front of his eyes. 'Are you fucking ignoring me?' The demon huffed, head cocked to one side, 'Rude. And here I was pouring my weaselly little heart out, laying prostrate at your feet, dear Angel, and you weren't even bloody paying attention!'

Aziraphale flushed red, 'Oh I am sorry, dear boy, I was...distracted.'

'Oh well, that's fine then,' they scoffed, throwing their hands up. 'I'm not going to repeat myself, so I hope it was worth it-'

'-You are,' He said softly.

Crowley paused, a loose lock of hair falling over their face, 'What? No. Really? No... Piss off, Angel.'

Aziraphale chuckled. He leaned forward and gently tucked their hair behind their ear. Even through the sunglasses he could feel the fire-hot touch of their eyes on his skin. They'd stopped breathing as soon as he touched them. What an intense, flighty thing they were. Like a coiled spring. He could almost hear their internal scolding of ‘don’t go too fast, don’t go too fast...’ He could read it in their body language, as if they could curl this human body like a snake about to strike.

He removed their glasses with reverential care. The demon averted their gaze, their eyes a fraction too big for their face. Aziraphale feared he would always be in awe of how hot Crowley burned inside, and just how much he wanted to feel that heat.

‘Why haven’t you done a miracle and dried your hair?’ He asked, folding his arms on his knees.

‘Dunno. Just letting it do it’s own thing, I guess...’

‘May I, dear? I could give it a brush, if you like?’

‘Oh,’ Crowley fussed at the cardigan, forked tongue appearing briefly to touch the corner of their mouth. They smiled softly.

‘Indulge me?’

‘Don’t I always...’ They whispered in a breath. Crowley turned, pressing their back against his legs. The words hung in the air, and Aziraphale wondered if he was even supposed to have heard them.

He ran his fingers through their hair, a hairbrush appearing on his lap. With each gentle run of his hand, their hair dried, settling in waves. Soft. Their hair was always so soft and easily tangled. Crowley slumped against his leg, cheek pressed to his knee. They had looped an arm around his lower leg.

'There,' He whispered, giving their shoulders a squeeze. 'Now you're perfect.'

Crowley tilted their head back to look at him, their neck contorting in such a manner that if they'd been human would mean instant death. Aziraphale bit back a grimace, 'Oh, uh, darling...?'

The demon's head snapped back round, 'Right...bones.' They snorted, scrambling to their feet. Swaying a little, Crowley looped a lock of hair around their finger, ‘Nice job. Very femme -’

‘- I should have kissed you,’ Aziraphale said with a sigh.

‘- What? When?’ Crowley asked softly, wrinkling their nose.

Aziraphale stood, moving to take a step, ‘On your last visit. I wanted to, but – Oh!’ He tripped, shoes tied together.

Crowley caught him. They grinned, pointed teeth on display, ‘So you’ve fallen for me, then?’

The angel stared up at them, eyes wide. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ He yelled, batting at their shoulder. Crowley hooted with laughter, head thrown back. Aziraphale grabbed a cushion off the armchair, lobbing it at the hysterical demon. They’d doubled over, arms wrapped around their middle. With a quick motion of his hand Aziraphale whisked away the offending footwear, throwing his arms up, ‘Goodness gracious! You absolute nightmare.’

‘Oh nooo,’ Crowley cooed, sidling over to him. They touched his arm, making him turn to face them, ‘I sorry, Angel.’ Large yellow eyes blinked innocently, and the demon pouted, head cocked to one side. Aziraphale looked away, huffing dramatically. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying desperately not to laugh.

Crowley ran their fingers along his shoulders, feeling the wool tweed of his waistcoat. They fiddled with the collar of his button up, and Aziraphale bit his lip. They were standing so close. He could smell his soap on them, hear their breathing. His heart pounded in his chest. A cold hand touched his cheek.

Aziraphale looked up into those strange yellow eyes, and felt the world shift. Nothing else mattered right now, there was nothing in the world that meant more to him than this, was as real.

‘Gosh, but you are a beautiful thing,’ He whispered.

Crowley rolled their exquisite eyes, ‘You’ve already caught me, you know. You don’t have to keep flattering me.’

‘Yes. I do,’ Aziraphale, said softly. Then he smirked, feeling a little thrill, ‘Wait...I’ve caught you, have I?’ He placed his hands on Crowley’s waist.

Crowley clicked their tongue with a curled lip, lowering their hands to his chest, cheeks flushing red. They sucked in a sharp breath. The angel wrapped his arms around them, holding them against his body. They locked eyes. Then Aziraphale placed a gentle hand on their cheek, and closed the space between them.

#good omens #good omens fic #goodomens fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #crowleyxaziraphale #nonbinary crowley #ineffable spouses #ineffable husbands

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codynaomiswireart · 5 years ago

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“Gauze in the Wound” - Part 22

Prepare for a bunch of confusing magic shenanigans. xP Just keep in mind: things are not always what they seem.

--------------------

Sabine frowned as her eyes scanned over her guests currently seated at the dinner table. While Donovan and Hilda swapped jokes loudly between each other, and dug into their meals like hungry foxes, Xavier and Queen Arianna looked miserable as they slowly ate away at their bowls of stew. The seat next to Xavier – the one that had been meant for Varian – was vacant, as the alchemist had refused to join everyone that evening, and instead had settled for a small cup of soup and a hunk of bread by the fireside in his room.

Sabine sighed, again glancing out the window to see if Pontus had returned from whatever errand he had rushed to take care of. But the only movement outside was the swaying of branches in the breeze, and a few clouds lazily making their way across the sunset sky.

“And then,” Hilda’s loud voice giggled as it crashed into Sabine’s wandering thoughts. “And then- Hehe! The parrot said, ‘No, I didn’t see a thing. I got so excited I fell off my perch!’”

Arianna glared at the two Saporians as they both began busting a gut at Hilda’s punch line. It seemed Xavier was also getting very tired of their company, as his fingers twitched from where they had curled themselves around the handle of his cane in clear irritation.

Sabine sighed again. The sooner the house was ready to return to Corona and everyone able go their separate ways, the better. Morning couldn’t come soon enough to the tense atmosphere of that house.

“I just hope Pontus is able to find us again,” Sabine thought as the mystery of his absence continued to nag at ther. “Whatever he’s up to.”

-----------------

Meanwhile, Ruddiger stirred from where he had been asleep in one of the armchairs next to the fireplace. After eating his own dinner, the raccoon had settled down to nap, listening to the sounds of the crackling fire and the clink of Varian’s spoon as he continued to slurp down his soup. But now, several minutes later, the raccoon peered around the room, and felt his senses struggle to wake up as he realized Varian was no longer there.

“Varian?” the raccoon chittered as he hopped down to the floor, and began to head towards the bedroom door. “Varian? Where did you-?”

Just then, Ruddiger had to leap back out of the way as the door to the bedroom flew open, and Varian came swiftly back inside, latching the door quietly behind him. Ruddiger blinked up at him, puzzled. Varian was no longer wearing his recovery clothes. Instead, he had on some traveling clothes (which he must’ve found somewhere in the house), and Ruddiger also noted that Varian’s bandages had all been removed. Also, if Ruddiger hadn’t known any better, he would’ve assumed Varian was acting like someone who had just been sneaking around.

But why would he do that?

“Varian?” Ruddiger chittered from behind, and Varian whirled round in alarm at the unexpected sound. As he turned, the boy also dropped something to the floor, and scrambled to pick it back up again before Ruddiger could get to it.

“Oh, Ruddiger,” Varian breathed as his hands closed around what appeared to be a hunk of chalk, or some other white material that Ruddiger was unfamiliar with. “Y-you scared me! You weren’t supposed to be-!”

Varian suddenly stopped himself, and Ruddiger cocked his head to one side as his eyes met his master’s. Again, something about them didn’t seem quite right, and Varian was acting very suspicious now.

“Varian,” Ruddiger tried to say, despite knowing that his boy couldn’t understand him. “You’re worrying me. What’s wrong? What were you doing?”

Varian shifted uncomfortably beneath Ruddiger’s gaze, biting his bottom lip, and wincing. He then walked back over to where some of their dinner scraps still were, and seemed to shuffle about with them a bit before sitting down in one of the chairs again, his plate in his lap.

“Ruddiger,” Varian then called softly, patting his lap for Ruddiger to sit with him.

Time seemed to slow down for Ruddiger as he found himself hesitating, and even having to resist the urge to take a step back as Varian beckoned him come. Something wasn’t right. Something was wrong. But Ruddiger couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Ruddiger?” Varian repeated, now with a hurt questioning in his voice. “C-c’mere boy, please?”

Ruddiger had once been warned by the other raccoons of the forest; about becoming too attached to a human. Once that happened, it would make you do things that no animal in their right mind would ever do. Any whiff of suspense, and any sensible creature would hightail it out of there to save their own skin. But humans seemed to have the strange effect of bringing out the unnatural in natural things (for good or for ill). Ruddiger had already felt it multiple times before now, and here, again, it was no exception. Ruddiger wanted to duck into a dark corner and hide, but he could tell that Varian was in some sort of inner distress, and apparently needed him. So, though a bit falteringly at first, Ruddiger shuffled his way across the floor, and leapt up onto Varian’s lap.

“Good boy Rudy,” Varian murmured as he began stroking his companion’s fur, and Ruddiger snuggled into him in return. A little while later, Varian began nibbling on the remainders of the hunk of bread on his plate, and then broke off bits of it for Ruddiger to tuck into as well. Ruddiger ate up the pieces gratefully, despite just having a full dinner only a little while before. Whether wild or tamed, his raccoon appetite always seemed to be ready for more, no matter how much he had eaten.

…That was when it dawned on him.

Ruddiger let out a startled sound as he felt his eyelids begin to droop, and his limbs grew sluggish and heavy. He now realized it was no coincidence that he had been napping shortly after supper before, and it wasn’t due to a food coma!

“NO!” Ruddiger thought through the fog that began to envelop his mind. “NO NO NO! VARIAN WOULDN’T! HE DIDN’T! WHY WOULD HE-!?”

“I’m sorry,” Ruddiger heard Varian whimper from above as the alchemist hugged him close to his chest. “I’m sorry Ruddiger! I’m sorry for everything!”

Ruddiger was so confused. What was happening? Why had Varian drugged him? What was going on!?

“Varian!” Ruddiger tried to cry out, but only a small, distressed squeal escaped his throat before he felt his voice fading away into oblivion as well.

“Shh! Shh, it’s ok Ruddiger,” Varian cooed as he stroked a hand down the raccoon’s back. “It’s ok boy. I know, I-I’m sorry. But I couldn’t risk…” Varian swallowed. “You’ve done so much for me already boy. It’s my turn now. I’ll make it right, ok? I promise. You just rest now, ok? I’ll…I’ll meet up again with you soon, all right?”

Ruddiger wanted to protest. Something was wrong! Varian was rushing into something again, and it was wrong! But it was getting harder and harder to think now, and Ruddiger knew it was a losing battle as he felt his eyes close, and he could hear Varian continue to mutter to him.

“It’s gonna be ok Ruddiger. It’s gonna be ok boy…It’s ok…good boy…I love you…”

-------------------

“You did the right thing, Puer Lunae” Varian heard the voice say to him reassuringly as he gently set Ruddiger down on the chair, the raccoon’s side rising and falling with deep, slow, sleeping breaths. Varian clenched his teeth together, refusing to let himself cry anymore. He hated tricking Ruddiger like this, but he didn’t want to risk him getting in the way of what he needed to do. And after all, if they succeeded, this whole incident wouldn’t matter either in the end.

But time right now was of the essence. Clearly, Ruddiger’s new powers made him recover from things like a drugged sleep much quicker than when he had been normal. But soon, if the plan went through, Ruddiger would be back to normal again. Everything would be normal again.

Varian sniffed, swiping a wrist across his nose, and after giving one last look at the sleeping Ruddiger, went over to the mirror hanging above his dresser. With tired, steely eyes, Varian gazed back into it, hating the reflection of the exhausted, injured boy that greeted him there.

“Well then?” the voice came again, and Varian saw Demanitus’s reflection join his own as it materialized beside it. “Shall we get started?”

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Varian pulled the piece of enchanted chalk from his pocket, and reached a hand forward to draw upon the mirror’s surface.

-----------------------

Arianna stopped, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the mirror attached to the dresser in her room. By now, the sun had well set, and for a moment Arianna thought her eyes were playing tricks on her in the dim light as her reflection appeared to be in fragments upon it. But as she lit the nearby lamp and looked again, she now saw that the mirror was not fractured, but instead had some sort of white circular pattern drawn onto it. Arianna didn’t remember that being there before she had gone to dinner.

“What in the world?” Arianna thought as she began to extend a hand out towards it, but something about it made her pull back quickly in caution, and she felt a sense of dread and fear settle in her stomach. A moment later, a soft knock sounded at her door.

“Um…your majesty?”

It was Varian!

In haste, Arianna opened the door, and there stood Varian. Arianna was very confused when she saw him. Instead of being in his recovery clothes, Varian was dressed in ordinary traveling attire, with his goggles back upon his head, and his bandages removed to expose the dark burn marks beneath. Not only that, but he also had a fairly large, oddly shaped pack strapped across his back, and his sword hanging from his side in its scabbard.

“What is it Varian?” Arianna asked nervously. “What’s wrong? Why are you-?”

“Shh, your majesty, please,” Varian whispered, and looking up and down the hall to make sure they were alone. “Listen,” the boy began nervously, keeping his eyes downcast, “I…I’m sorry about being so rude to you earlier. But…I need your help now. Ruddiger…” Varian swallowed. “Ruddiger went running out into the woods a few minutes ago, and I think he wanted me to follow him. It might have something to do with Pontus or the moon stone or something. I don’t want to worry anyone else, and Xavier can’t walk very well yet, so I was wondering if…Well, if-if you would come with me? Please? I think Sabine went to the nearby pond to get water for the evening, so we can catch her there and let her know where we’re going. We can be back before we have to leave for Corona in the morning. But this really can’t wait. I…I think this is important.”

Arianna frowned. It really felt like something strange was going on, and of course she hadn’t forgotten the odd symbol on the mirror. But…this did sound like it was important, and if Ruddiger was guiding the boy along, they should probably take his instincts seriously. Ruddiger had, after all, been very reliable up to now.

“All right Varian,” Arianna said, stepping out further into the hallway. “I’ll come with you.”

Varian let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, your majesty.”

Quietly, the two of them made their way towards the front door of the house, with Varian poking his head into the living room to make sure no one was there.

“Right then,” Varian said, and grabbed Arianna by the wrist as he led her up to the front door.

“V-Varian, would you please-?” Arianna began, not entirely liking having him grasp her like this. But her words were cut off as, suddenly, Varian whirled about so that before Arianna could react, he had her pinned against the wall next to the door, and she could feel the edge of his sword settle at the side of her neck.

“Oh, don’t worry, your majesty,” Varian whispered behind her, and his now cool, confident tone making a cold chill run down her spine, and her brain reel as the situation began to sink in. “You know the drill. Just cooperate, and no one has to get hurt, right?”

Arianna took in a breath to scream, to yell, to shout; to do something to sound an alert. But as she did so, she got a whiff of a sickly-sweet smell that was beginning to grow stronger. In a panic, and not heeding for a moment the sword at her neck, Arianna tried to fight back at Varian before the sleeping draught could take hold, like the last time. But Varian was ready for her, and with reflexes quicker than Arianna had ever seen come from him before, Varian had knocked her down, yet somehow had also been able to catch her before she could hit the floor with a thud.

As he set her down quickly, Arianna could feel Varian tie a gag around her mouth, and tie her hands behind her back.

“Get up,” he now commanded her, hauling her up onto wobbly legs with one hand, and sheething his sword with the other. The drugs were not yet strong enough to make Arianna succumb to complete unconsciousness, but it did make her woozy, and though she tried to struggle against Varian, he now somehow seemed too strong for her.

“Now,” Varian said with a grin, as with his free hand he reached for the astrolabe mounted to the back of the front door. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

--------------------------------

The first thing to come was a slight rumbling through the whole house. Xavier had been staring pensively into the fireplace of his room, but had been snapped out of his thoughts as he felt the house begin to vibrate and creak around him, the noise crescendoing rapidly. Then, Xavier heard someone in the house scream in agony, and then he found himself ducking out of reflex, nearly falling out of his chair as later he mirror above the fireplace suddenly shattered into a million pieces. Xavier sat there, panting, hardly daring to move as his mind scrambled to take in what just happened. The house continued to groan and vibrate around him, and somewhere someone was still screaming in pain. Very carefully, Xavier got up from his chair, his heart pounding as he stepped carefully over the bits of broken mirror now scattered about the floor, and giving his head, arms, shoulders, and legs a quick inspection as he made his way to the bedroom door.

Fortunately, it didn’t look like any shards of glass had lodged themselves into him, and he didn’t appear to be bleeding from any scratches. This did little to calm Xavier, however, as he could still hear the cries coming from somewhere in the building, and his going was unsteady as the floorboards shook beneath him.

As Xavier managed to open the door and burst into the hallway, he found himself coming face to face with Hilda, who was pale as a ghost and clearly as frightened as he was.

“What’s going on?” Xavier asked her.

“I-I don’t know,” Hilda said, and pointed with a quivering hand up the hall, “But Sabine, she-”

Xavier looked to where Hilda pointed, and saw Donovan kneeling beside Sabine, who lay whimpering in the corridor.

“Sabine!” Xavier cried, and rushed over to see what was wrong. As he gently turned her over so that he could see her face, Sabine had both hands clasped above her damaged eye, and tears were streaming down from her good one.

“What happened, Sabine?” Xavier asked, distressed at seeing Sabine in such pain. “What’s wrong? Why-?”

“Y-you have to stop him!” Sabine managed to yell through her sobs. “Xavier, it’s-it’s Varian, he’s-”

Xavier didn’t need any further prompting. Somehow, despite the chaos, and ignoring the pain in his leg, Xavier began to run as fast as he could to the safehouse’s front door.

“Varian!” Xavier shouted, trying to shove back the slew of fears that came crowding in on him. “Varian! Whatever you’re doing, stop! You have to-!”

But as Xavier rounded the bend in the hallway to the living room, the blacksmith stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Varian standing out on the veranda, the blue streak in his hair glowing a dull, threateneing hue, holding a bound Queen Arianna firmly in one hand, and holding his sword to her throat with the other. Beyond the veranda, in the dark, Xavier could see figures holding torches, and hear the soft snorting of horses and gasps of men in alarm.

“Hello, your majesty,” Varian shouted across the way to King Frederic. “I have a request I would like to make, if you don’t mind.”

----------------------------------

It took everything within Frederic to not lunge forward from where he stood behind Pete and the Captain as he saw Varian emerge from the safehouse with his sword at Arianna’s throat. The king felt his face flush with both rage and embarrassment as his fingers gripped tighter around the handle of his sword. They had all been tricked! They had all been fools! Of course Varian had been up to no good this whole time! He should’ve taken a company of men with him into Equis the moment they got word from Arianna. To heck with international diplomacy! He would’ve risked another confrontation with Trevor if it meant it could’ve prevented this.

But no, this was certainly not the time to kick himself about the “what could/would/should’ve been.” Frederic forced himself to take a steadying breath. He had to focus on the here and now.

In front of him, the Captain growled with outrage. “Varian!” he barked at him, raising his crossbow. “That’s enough! You’re outnumbered, and we’ve got you surrounded! Put down your weapon and put your hands in the air! NOW!”

“Excuse me,” Varian said cooly, not at all shaken by the Captain’s warnings. “But I was talking to the king, not to you.”

The Captain opened his mouth to give a retort, but was stopped as Frederic said from behind, “Easy, Captain,” and cautiously stepped forward between him and Stan. “What do you want Varian?”

“No need to be so tense, your highness,” Varian replied with a smug look. “I have a much more simple request than last time, I assure you. I only-”

“Varian, please!”

Varian stopped, rolling his eyes in irritation, as he looked over his shoulder to where Xavier stood in the doorway behind him, his eyes glistening with the tears he was struggling to hold back.

“Varian, listen to me,” Xavier pleaded with him, keeping his voice surprisingly calm despite the situation. “Whatever you’re doing, you need to stop. I know you’re hurt. I know you’re scared. I know you feel trapped and…and betrayed. But this isn’t right. This won’t help you. But it’s not too late to stop. You don’t have to do this. You can still come back from this. Whatever is wrong, we can figure it out, together. Just let me –”

Xavier’s words were suddenly cut off as Varian mumbled something under his breath, the streak of blue in his hair glowed a bit brighter, and a black rock erupted through the floorboards of the veranda, causing Xavier to stagger back into the house just before it could hit him.

Xavier stood in shock, mouth agape, and heart pounding hard in his chest. Varian had just tried to hurt him!

“Stay out of this old man!” Varian snapped at him, pinning Xavier beneath his cold gaze. “I don’t need your help!”

Frederic, Pete, the Captain, and even Arianna in her foggy state of mind all froze as they witnessed such a cold response from Varian towards Xavier. It seemed that he really had snapped again, and not even Xavier could reach him.

“Now, about my request,” Varian continued, as if nothing had happened. “It’s simple, your majesty, I assure you. All I want is your decree for my safe passage to Old Corona, where I will free my father, and then have safe passage out of the kingdom of Corona. Your spoken and written word on that in exchange for the queen. That’s all I ask.”

Frederic paused, both he and the Captain exchanging looks of uncertainty between them. This seemed too easy. Something had to be amiss. After all, this was Varian they were dealing with. They had to be missing some detail, but what?

“Ugh,” Varian sighed in exasperation at the silence that followed. “You all really are so suspicious, aren’t you? But,” Varian shrugged, “can’t say I blame you. Though perhaps though, this will help you make up your mind a bit quicker.”

At these words, Varian muttered under his breath again, and as his hair glowed again, several black rocks erupted from the ground nearer to the line of men, and Varian’s sword pressed further into Arianna’s neck.

“STOP VARIAN!” the king shouted. “All right, all right, I’ll-I’ll give you the decree!”

“Very good,” Varian purred, the light dimming from his hair, and the black rocks receding back into the ground.

With shaky hands, Frederic reached into his saddlebag for pen and paper, with the Captain remaining close at his side.

“Sire!” the Captain whispered urgently. “I don’t like this! Perhaps we should try to stall for a while and see if-”

“No, Captain!” Frederic hissed back, though brought his tone back down as he continued. “I don’t doubt that something could be amiss here. But if this is indeed all that Varian wants, this may be our only chance of getting out of this without Arianna or anyone else getting hurt. We’ll have time to figure out more later.”

The Captain frowned, though conceded with a reluctant nod as Frederic began to draft his decree. Something was missing, but what? The Captain couldn’t figure it out.

“Varian,” Xavier tried again as Varian waited for the king to finish his draft. “Why are you doing this? We would’ve gone to Old Corona anyway if you-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Varian growled, shooting Xavier a threatening glare over his shoulder. “Just back off you, you hear?”

“But Varian-” Xavier tried to argue, but Varian only responded with yet another threatening glow from his hair.

…And, Xavier thought he saw, a glimmer of green also showing from somewhere within odd bundle on his back.

“Here you are, Varian,” Frederic said before Xavier could think on this further. “Signed by both myself and the Captain, and in the presence of the surrounding witnesses, I decree by royal authority that you have safe passage to Old Corona, and from there to the eastern border of Corona. Trying to go elsewhere within our borders will result in your immediate arrest, and at the crossing of our borders, you will immediately be considered an exile of Corona. Any attempt at unauthorized reentry will result in your immediate arrest.”

There was a full silence as Frederic finished his degree. “Do you have any questions, Varian?”

Varian smiled, “None at all, your majesty.”

“Then let Arianna go!”

With another shrug, Varian pulled Arianna to her feet, and lead her across the yard to where he, the Captain, and the king met in the middle. It was a tense moment as the exchange was made, but, indeed, Varian cut Arianna’s bonds, and released her as Frederic handed the sealed decree over to Varian.

“Arianna, darling!” Frederic breathed as he held her close. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

Arianna shook her head, burying her face into her husband’s chest as the whole ordeal left her shaken.

“Right,” Varian said, and striding confidently towards the edge of the Molson’s Grove. “I’ll be off then.”

“Hey!” the Captain snapped, again pointing his crossbow at Varian. “Stop right there! We promised you safe passage, Varian! We said nothing about letting you go on your own!”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t either, did you?” Varian asked with a smirk, raising his sword skyward.

“GET HIM!” the Captain shouted, and the closest of the soldiers bravely charged towards Varian. However, before anyone could reach him, Varian again chanted to himself (this time Arianna and Xavier recognizing it as the awaking spell from before), and Varian’s hair glowed, his sword burst into moonlight, and then he smashed it into the ground, causing a whole wall of black rocks to spring forth around the grove, completely fensing everyone inside.

“VARIAN!” Xavier cried, as he dashed over to the wall of rocks, knowing that pounding against it was useless, but he did so anyway, with many of the guards also joining him in the attempt.

“VARIAN, STOP, PLEASE!” Xavier shouted, managing to catch sight of Varian through one of the tiny gaps in the rocks. The boy made eye contact with Xavier briefly before narrowing his eyes, grinning wickedly, and then making his way into the dark forest beyond towards Old Corona.

“Varian…”

-----------------------------

For the second time that night, Ruddiger opened his bleary eyes as his senses came back to him.

“Varian!” Ruddiger immediately remembered as he returned to the waking world, and the raccoon rushed over to the door to the bedroom to run after his boy, wherever he had gone.

Ruddiger’s paws twisted at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He had been locked in!

“No…” Ruddiger thought, panic beginning to seize him as he frantically went from window to window, finding all of those locked as well.

“Varian, you idiot!” Ruddiger screamed, bristling with fury and worry. Frantically, Ruddiger, began looking around for anything that might help him shatter one of the windows, and as he looked, he stopped as he noticed something odd.

The mirror above Varian’s dresser was gone.

“But, why would…?” Ruddiger thought in confusion.

…And that was when he heard it.

“HELP ME!” Ruddiger heard a voice call to him, and Ruddiger flinched as it sounded behind him. Whirrling round, Ruddiger looked all around, but couldn’t see anyone.

“PLEASE!” the voice repeated. “SOMEONE! HELP ME!”

Ruddiger immediately began calling back, sniffing and spinning in circles where he could hear the voice coming from in the middle of the room, trying to get to its unseen source. For now – though he could not entirely understand how – Ruddiger knew.

He knew it was Varian. He knew he was in trouble. And he knew, somehow, that Varian was here!

#tts #rta #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #gauze in the wound #fan fiction #varian #xavier the blacksmith #ruddiger #rudiger #sabine the wounded healer #queen arianna #king frederic #captain of the guard

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makeste · 6 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 175: 8:30 A.M.

Previously on BnHA: Deku agreed to help the staging team hoist Aoyama above the gym as a living disco ball. Time progressed and we got another nice scene of Deku training with All Might. All Might revealed that his mastery of OFA actually came to him quite easily and instinctively, which is he sometimes has trouble guiding Deku. Mei showed up and did some Mei things and told Deku that the new ~mystery support item~ he requested would be ready soon. Apparently Deku requested it to help with his new move, and All Might’s cool with it as long as he doesn’t start to rely on support items too much. Class A’s preparations continued and Momo served everyone some fancy tea. Gentle reviewed his plan of attack with La Brava. He intends for this to be a wake-up call that will help the little hero eggs of U.A. grow stronger, and he’s probably not wrong, but at some point all of this character building is gonna kill these poor kids. So now we’re cutting to the night before the festival, and that’s where this chapter will presumably pick up!

Today on BnHA: The kids of 1-A wrap up their dress rehearsal and gather in their common room to make final preparations and work off their nervous energy. Deku realizes that the rope he’s gonna use to suspend Aoyama is dangerously frayed, so he decides to run out to the store early in the morning to buy a new one before the show. The next day Hatsume delivers his new support item -- another new pair of gloves. After breaking them in with some training, Deku heads out to the store conveniently still wearing them. On his way back to U.A. he stumbles across a ~mysterious pair of characters~ wearing trench coats and sunglasses as they emerge from a tea shop. Deku says something about tea, and Gentle can’t keep his fucking mouth shut, and Deku subsequently recognizes his voice and realizes he’s the villain from the Youtube videos. Remembering that the festival will be cancelled if even a single alarm goes off, Deku decides he’ll just stop Gentle on his own, and gets ready to fight.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 199 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

these kids are all too fucking cute

who’s braiding Eri’s hair? a doctor/nurse?

more importantly, is Eri gonna have braided hair today omg. I’m gonna fucking die of cuteness here

(ETA: for some reason she does not. maybe they tried it out but she just wasn’t feeling it. who knows! but she’s still adorable no matter what)

holy moses

that’s another Iida dancing panel. swiped. placed in special folder

omgggg

I’m so exciteddddd

“but now I know for sure that I was one hundred percent right to be worried”

nah just kidding Sero. BREAK A LEG

he says that both the band and dance team have come a long way

SHOW MORE OF THE BANDDDD

aww he’s giving Mina props for being “such a super intense coach”

don’t forget to also give her props for coming up with your disco ball thing

(ETA: MVP)

THE BANDDDD!!!

DON’T YOU ‘EH’ HER YOU MONOSYLLABIC BASTARD. YOU HEARD HER, NONE OF THOSE “WEIRD AD LIBS”

also lmao at “ONE OF US might get thrown off”, which absolutely is referring to Kaminari and only Kaminari and you all know it

but it’s not his fault! he’s still learning!!

sobbb

I swear to god, if Gentle does ANYTHING to fuck this shit up I will cast him deep into the pits of Cancelled Hell right there with Mineta and Overhaul

now Hounddog is coming to chase them out because BARK BARK BARK, STUDENTS ARE ONLY ALLOWED IN HERE TILL 9

is he literally foaming at the mouth

anyways, so now all the good little boys and girls are in bed resting up for their big day!

AND THE NOT SO GOOD LITTLE BOYS AND GIRLS ARE RUNNING AROUND SCREAMING

“some people” is obviously Bakugou lmao

also this is the cutest!!!!!!! this chapter is going for the record, huh? Cutest Chapter? going for the title? you’ve gotta beat out all of Deku and Kacchan’s flashbacks, all of Mirio’s flashbacks, that chapter two chapters ago with Eri touring the campus, and chapter 163 with Kaminari being all, [HOP] “HEY KACCHAN”

so it’s a tall order! but I think this might just have what it takes!!!

Jirou is telling Iida it won’t do any good to worry now about whether or not everyone else will enjoy it, and that they just have to enjoy themselves

and the boyfriend is all

THAT WAS DIFFERENT, KAMINARI!!

Deku’s agreeing with Jirou from over by the table where he’s double checking the equipment he’s gonna use for the Aoyama Hoisting

and it’s a good thing he did check it, too!

lmao

“IT’S THE PROOF OF OUR FRIENDSHIP” “no, actually, this would probably get you killed dude”

also Kaminari’s “desuwa” has legit just bumped him up a notch on my favorite characters list. fully not joking. whoever was at number nine just got bumped down. I think it was either Toga or Mirio. actually, you know what, I’m gonna go ahead and say he just leapfrogged both of them and ended up at the #8 spot right behind Momo. that’s the power of doing loving cheeky impressions of your fellow classmates

anyway, Momo is apparently already in bed though. because SHE is one of the good little girls

and Mina’s shouting “don’t treat her like a tool box!” and Kami’s protesting that they all treat him like a battery charger though

I mean, if I had a quirk that could recharge people’s phones or make them ropes and shit, I wouldn’t mind using it to help out my good friends! and I’m sure Momo wouldn’t mind either, so long as they waited until morning and, you know, didn’t go and wake her up just for that lol. but whatever

Deku says he’ll just buy one first thing in the morning since he’s gonna be training anyway

I’m thinking back to Gentle’s detailed plan of attack, but although the home center Deku’s talking about was indeed on that route, I don’t think the schedule matches up with Gentle’s. he and La Brava should still be drinking tea until 8:30. although the cafe is right by the home center though

but I’m thinking there’s a chance Deku might spot him in the cafe though maybe, and recognize him from the videos

anyway! that’s a problem for future!Deku! current!Deku is doing a cheer with his fellow students and heading off to bed

tempted to include this with the dancing Iida panels, but no. I’m choosy enough to wait for the real deal

so now it’s 6:30 the next morning, and Midoriya Izuku, who most definitely has not gotten as much sleep as a growing boy needs, is nonetheless out training with All Might again

and Mei is here with his new item!

ooh

always with the glove upgrades, huh

lol All Might is impressed with how far technology has come

that’s right, All Might. welcome to the... twenty... third?? century?? I don’t actually know for sure but I usually just add 200 years to where we’re at currently for simplicity’s sake

also, Mei can make things this compact. we don’t know anything about “they.” but this genius girl here, she can do it, and she deserves some credit

Mei is seriously so cool though

and she did this all on even less sleep than Deku. (although apparently she’s planning a 36-hour power nap once this is all over, which sounds amazing)

so now Deku is going to test out the “thing” he wanted to try

and of course we’re cutting away lol and cutting to 7:50 a.m.

Deku’s running to the store and fretting about almost being late

honestly you should have just asked Momo if it ended up being like this

he still has his gloves, incidentally. HOW CONVENIENT

-- oh snap, because this ridiculous little villain magnet was late and then had trouble finding a rope, it’s now 8:30. aka exactly when our two villains are scheduled to leave the tea shop

and sure enough...

OH MY GOD LA BRAVA

THAT DOES IT. DEFINITELY THE CUTEST CHAPTER EVER DALSFKHDL

Gentle is all “the aftertaste of the imperial golden tips was almost ruined!”

and now he’s scampering off with La Brava quick as can be

so it seems like the name of that tea was important? I guess?

oh my god

so Deku’s all “huh, so that house was a cafe, whoodda thunk?”

and Gentle is getting all “!!!”

and. just

oh my god he thinks he’s a fellow tea enthusiast

how does he not actually recognize Deku, though? too gentlemanly to watch TV like ever?

(ETA: probably just sticks to reading books in a big armchair by the fireplace)

Deku’s saying he just knows about it because he got some from a friend

BUT, he’s thinking that Gentle’s voice sounds familiar!

meanwhile, Gentle is all “ooh you must have a pretty high-class friend”

but then he’s like

and Deku is all

oh my god lmao

they’re both freaking out

and as always, Deku’s Big Hero Brain is way too freaking smart

so Gentle’s turning to make a quick getaway, but Deku’s asking him to wait a moment

ooooooooh snap

YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF GENTLE, THIS KID HAS A PROVISIONAL LICENSE AND SOME SHINY NEW GLOVES MOTHERFUCKAA

so now Deku’s setting down the bags with the rope, and remembering what the Rat Principal said (did he actually say this? I thought it was part of his flashback with the police commish but I guess not) about how they would immediately suspend activities if the alarm sounds

and I’m guessing... that maybe Deku wants to take care of this right here because he doesn’t want the cultural festival to be cancelled after all of their hard work

which is pretty stupid, but also understandable enough that I have no trouble buying it

like, he should be calling the authorities and putting them on alert, not trying to take this mofo out himself lmao

but instead this is happening

and you know what? I’m okay with that

BONUS: my boy Fat Gummmm

Fat Gum sobbing while eating a banana and apologizing to the ghost of Nighteye is somehow just the biggest mood

look how he has the takoyaki splayed between his knuckles because eating them one at a time just isn’t enough. think bigger. plus ultra!!!

it took him all of four days. what a champ. and now I’m fucking starving omg

#bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #class 1-a #aoyama yuuga #kaminari denki #hatsume mei #gentle (bnha)#bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #okay but #kaminari being hyper af right when they should be settling down and getting ready for the big day tomorrow #is also the biggest mood of all time #somehow this kid is going head to head with eri battling it out for cutest of the arc #he has absolutely no filter and no inhibitions #but he's so pure of heart that it doesn't get him into trouble because all he does is just run around being cute #I adore him so much you guys #he makes everything better and I appreciate it so much

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theartificialdane · 8 years ago

Text

Galactica, part 236

In this we celebrate Thanksgiving from New Orleans to Long Island, and some have a jollier holiday than others!

Thank you @veronicasanders @toriibelledarling and @samrull for all of your amazing help and support <3

“Not too late to back out,” Bianca said, as their car service pulled up to her parents’ house outside New Orleans.

“It sort of feels like it’s too late…” Courtney answered.

“Nahh…” Bianca slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her close. “We can be at the Ritz in 25 minutes...room service...a fireplace…” Bianca kissed her neck as the driver unloaded their luggage.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Let’s call that Plan B.”

Bianca grinned and let Courtney drag her out of the car. She held her hand, leading her up the walk, pausing for a second to say, “Brace yourself,” as she pushed open the door.

Courtney’s stomach was in knots. She had met a few of their family members before while she and Adore were in college, but this was different. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad that Adore wasn’t here - she’d chosen to spend the holiday with Alaska’s family in Pennsylvania. On the one hand, she’d have been another ally, but on the other hand, it may not help her cause for everyone to have a constant visual reminder that she’d started out as their baby sister’s best friend and was now dating their oldest sibling. She had a moment of panic when, swept up by a flurry of siblings and nieces and nephews and cousins, Bianca dropped her hand.

“Courtney! You look great, how’s it going?”

Courtney turned gratefully towards the familiar voice, giving Eddy a hug. “Hi! Thanks, how are you?”

“Pretty good, no complaints.”

“Congratulations, I hear you and Rose got engaged last week!”

“Yeah, well...you know, I finally accepted that you would never return my love, so…”

Courtney laughed, shaking her head. “Please stop, you’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

“Baby!” Bianca wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from Eddy. “Jesus Christ, I thought I’d never find you again. Come meet my sisters.”

Vanessa and Liz were polite, if slightly icy, looking Courtney up and down. “It’s lovely to meet you,” Vanessa said.

“That’s a cute dress, reminds me of that designer B’s friends with...what’s her name, Bianca?” Liz asked pointedly.

“Her name is Miss Fame, and that dress is Marc Jacobs. You nothing literally nothing about fashion,” Bianca replied, then turned to one of her cousin’s kids. “Chloe! Hi, pumpkin! How’s school?”

Courtney forced a sunny smile. “I don’t know the designers either. I just liked the print.”

“Right,” Liz said, with a slight eye roll.

“So Courtney, my daughter really likes your album,” Vanessa added. “I told her she had to wait a few years to watch the videos, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t listen.”

Courtney’s cheeks reddened a little. “Sorry.”

“I mean, it’s not your fault. They’re just a little racy for a seven year old. Hey, Maddie!” She beckoned her daughter over to them.

“Yeah…” Courtney cleared her throat as a girl with dimples and dark curled bounced over, hugging Bianca around the waist and looking up at her shyly.

Bianca lifted the seven year old off the ground.

“You’re Courtney, right?” she asked shyly.

“Hi, yeah, you must be Madison.”

The little girl’s eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

“Well, I mean, I follow your mother on Instagram. So I get to see pictures of you all the time.”

“You /do/?”

“Yeah, I think your dog is really cute.” Courtney smiled, relieved to have someone else on her side, even a seven year old.

“I think YOUR dog is really cute! Oh my gosh, can they be friends?”

“Kylie would love that!”

Madison grinned. “Wanna see my American Girl Doll?”

“Definitely.” Courtney allowed the small child to lead her by the hand into the other room, thrilled to be stepping away from the mayhem.

***

“Sit still little man.” Katya smiled as she took a step back to admire her handywork.

Ivan was all dressed up, his chubby little cheeks red and his blonde hair water combed. Katya had bought his blue dress shirt and pants so he could match his daddy, Katya herself wearing the blue sky dress Trixie had made for her so many years back after she got out of rehab. Katya knew she should properly connect the dress to something sad, her time in upstate New York at the rehab clinic one of the hardest things she had ever had to do, her family abandoning her and the memories of the kind brown eyed man keeping her up at night as she had twisted and turned, but she didn’t. It had been made for her by a man that loved her, and she was going to wear it to every joyous occasion she could, and the first thanksgiving with her son was definitely just that.

Katya reached over and picked Ivan up, the little boy smiling his cute mostly toothless smile filling her with joy as he grabbed her hair. Katya laughed, gently freeing her blonde locks from her son’s grib.

“Let’s go show daddy how cute you are, huh?”

“Dada!”

“That’s right little man.” Katya kissed Ivan’s head and made her way towards the kitchen where Trixie was cooking up a feast with the help of Laila and Pearl.

***

“Apa kebar, are you sure I’m saying it right?”

“You’re saying it perfectly lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled as he walked up the steps to his mother's little yellow house, Violet’s hand in his, his girlfriend holding Frida’s leash and the small box that contained her gift to his mother. Sutan had tried to tell Violet time and time again that she didn’t have to bring anything for his mom, but his girlfriend still insisted every time, just like she stumbled through the greeting ritual of his culture, her words clumsy but her intend so clear you couldn’t do anything but love her.

Violet nodded, and Sutan reached out to ring the doorbell, his mom opening the door, a big smile on her face as she hugged them, Sutan getting kisses and warnings that he was getting too thin, Frida even treated to a gentle pet as his mom accepted Violet’s gift of a simple, but beautiful vintage headscarf in a pale yellow with a kiss to Violet’s cheek as well.

“Com in com in.” Mani stepped aside, letting the couple and their dog step inside. “Dinner almost done, eveyone in livingoom.” Mani opened the door, Raja and Raven already on the couch.

“Fame, what are you doing here?”

Sutan was so surprised to see his friend sitting in the armchair by the fire, that he didn’t see Violet’s face at all, his girlfriend's eyes widening in horror when she realised that it was indeed her boss, none other than Miss Fame herself, that was in the living room, her gigantic Great Dane napping on the carpet, the three woman playing cards while they waited for dinner.

***

‘’Can everyone go home already? My head hurts.” Betty was draped over the couch, her arm over her forehead in a dramatic gesture.

“Kitty, hate to break it to you, but they’re not here yet.” Shane set some more plates on the table, preparing for the Thanksgiving dinner they were hosting for members of Bach Street Boys with their plus ones. Ruby had nearly suffocated Shane in a hug earlier when he told her that of course she can bring Max, no question about it.

The turkey was still in the oven, but mashes potatoes were already ready, along with gravy, cranberry sauce and an array of other delicious dishes they spend the entire morning making (Or, Shane did. Betty helped cut some vegetables until she announced her cold was getting better of her and she settled on the couch, downing her cold medicine with half a bottle of wine). She was currently half-sick, half-drunk and fully in an awful mood.

“What do you mean they’re not here? Are you making that much noise all by yourself? Ugh.”

At that exact moment, the doorbell rang and Shane hurried to the door to let in Raga and his girlfriend Evah, who carried a tray of pumpkin pie.

“Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Are we first? I brought Ruby the cutest skirt from Japan, I swear she is going to /die/ when she tries it on. Is she really bringing that mysterious boyfriend of hers? Hey, Shane. Long time no see.”

“How was Japan, Evah?” Shane asked as the blue-haired girl climbed to her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Amazing as always. I brought stuff for you guys too, so no worries. Where’s Betty? Take this to the kitchen, will you, babe?” Evah practically shoved the tray of pie into Raga’s arms and pranced into the living room, leaving the men behind in the hallway.

“Must’ve missed her a lot, huh?” asked Shane, a little sarcastically. Evah was Raga’s high school sweetheart, a rising star of the e-sport community who made money hosting gaming livestreams. She was very into Japanese fashion and pop culture. Somehow Betty has learned the word ”weeaboo” and rarely called Evah anything else since.

“House was quiet without her,” shrugged Raga, handing Shane the pie.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Betty craved death. Even though her fever went down slightly from the meds, her throat was in flames, her head ready to burst open and she also felt nauseous and dizzy from the wine. Evah was showing her photos from the convention in Tokyo she went on, but Betty could barely see anything because of her watery eyes.

“You know how many makeup Youtubers want to collab with me all of a sudden? I only do cosplay makeup, it’s a whole different world, you know? Bets, you okay? You don’t seem well.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m dying.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear about that. Maybe I’ll go help the boys in the kitchen then?” Evah awkwardly patted Betty’s arm, a gesture Betty completely ignored, and bounced away to the kitchen, her frilly skirt dancing in the air the last thing Betty saw before her eyelids closed.

The next time she opened her eyes, a freakishly tall man dressed in all black was standing right above her, pointing at something. ‘’Sorry, but what the hell is this?’’

“Max, come on. It’s Betty. She’s a little sick, obviously not her best day, give her a break,” winked Ruby from the table, raising a glass Betty’s way with a brilliant smile, visibly way too proud of her joke.

“Can everybody please fuck the fuck off?” Betty whined, grabbing the nearest blanket and wrapping it around her arms.

“Not really, you invited us, remember?”

“Ugh. I guess.” There was a loud noise and a curse coming from the kitchen which Betty ignored, instead opting for getting up and making her way to join everybody by the table. The cold meds made her hungry.

“That doesn’t answer my question. What the hell is that… statue? Is it like a statement? Does it… mean anything?” Max pointed at the Poseidon statue by the window. It was wearing a scarf wrapped around its head like a turban and was as ugly as ever.

Raga raised his head from a half-finished serving of mashed potatoes and snorted. “That’s Shane’s best friend.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I think he loves that ugly thing more than he loves me.”

Shane was in the kitchen making noise, unable to confirm nor deny the statement. With a shrug, Betty reached for a bottle of red wine that stood alone in the middle of the table, but when she felt a coming coughing fit, she wasn’t able to do anything to stop it. She knocked the bottle over, the wine immediately spilling all over the table and onto Ruby, who was closest, staining her cream white skirt. Ruby jumped to her own salvation, knocking over some glasses and screaming, and caused Evah to cry out, “What the fuck, Ruby, you stepped on my foot!” The guys tried to save the situation but they only managed to make it worse, flailing around. Betty slowly but surely moved away from the table and she was the first to notice Shane in the doorway, defeated, black smudges on his face and white t-shirt.

“Guys?” Nobody heard him. “GUYS!” he screamed.

All the heads turned towards Shane.

“What?”

“I burned the turkey.”

***

Courtney walked down the hall, trying to find her way back to the living room through the maze of the Del Rio’s house, when she paused, hearing her name. One of Bianca’s sisters was chatting with someone, probably a cousin. She stopped to listen.

“...well yeah, it’s just, she’s never taken anyone home before so, you know, I always figured Bianca was holding out for someone, like...I don’t know…”

“I get what you’re saying. She’s like, sweet, but it’s a bit anticlimactic. Liz keeps calling her a gold digger, but that’s not really the vibe I get. It’s more...just...I don’t know…”

“Right? I’m not trying to be mean but I sort of expected B to bring home a supermodel who happened to be a nobel prize winner.”

Courtney closed her eyes, having heard enough, and walked quickly back to their room.

COURTNEY: Your family hates me

ADORE: Yeah, well, they hate everyone. Why do you think I never go home? Did they try to put you in a mental institution?

COURTNEY: No

ADORE: OK so what are you complaining about?

COURTNEY: lol

ADORE: Eddy loves you

COURTNEY: Yeah. We’re BFFs. He was totally my type, when I dated guys. Except he appears to have a moral compass, so...maybe not

ADORE: HA! I’m telling him you said that.

COURTNEY: OMG DON’T YOU DARE I’M ON THIN ICE AS IT IS

“Hey! There you are!” Bianca walked into the bedroom, wrapping her arms around Courtney’s waist.

“Hi, sorry.”

“We’re about to sit down for dinner. I have to warn you...they promised they would make vegan-friendly stuff but my mom just said ‘vegans can eat eggs, right?’ So I can’t really promise that this food is safe.”

“Oh, that’s...that’s alright. I’ll just eat vegetables.”

“I mean, right, but you know you’re in the South. So we count mac and cheese as a vegetable.”

“Well, that’s insane.” Courtney hugged Bianca around the waist and laid a head on her shoulder. “I guess it’s a cheat day?”

“I guess so. Sorry, baby.”

***

“Mmh.. You’re such a good kisser.” Katya smiled, her and Trixie were on the bed, Trixie on top of her, his weight comfortable, her hand in his hair, his shirt open, Trixies soft, plump lips between her own. Katya had taken one look at her husband in his pink Thanksgiving shirt, and she had jumped his bones straight away.

“My sweet bo-” In that moment, Katya realised that the sour smell in the air wasn’t Ivan’s diaper, but rather a very different unpleasant smell. “Is something burning?”

“Oh fuck, the pie!” Trixie sprung up like a pig that had been bitten, racing to the kitchen, a surprised scream coming from outside their room.

“Dude! No! Keep your man boobs in your room!”

“Sorry!”

Katya laughed, the holiday peace truly settling over the little home on the Upper East Side.

***

“We’re flying flowers in from Fiji, they look /amazing/, I can’t wait for all of you to see it at the rehearsal dinner.”

Violet smiled to herself, Raven had been talking about her wedding all through dinner, the woman so excited about the party that she was practically vibrating out of her skin, every conversation with her somehow ending up on the subject.

“Vey nice, vey nice.” Mani stood up, the old woman reaching out to take the dishes, but Violet quickly jumped in. “Let me.”

“You good gil Violet, you vey good gil.” Violet blushed slightly, still proud of the fact that Sutan’s mom liked her so much.

“You’re welcome.” Violet picked up the pitcher of water and the wine glasses before she left the room, Mani and Raven staying behind, but as Violet walked out into the hallway she saw that the door to the backyard was open. Violet felt her heart drop, sure that Frida had somehow gotten out but when she got there she saw Sutan, Raja and Fame all standing together, the three of them passing around what looked like a cigarette. Violet could hear Raja and Sutan laughing together and the low voices of the group chatting. Violet turned around, ready to go to the kitchen Frida that had left the living room came bolting down the hall, the little dog smelling the night air.

“Frida! Frida no!” Violet ran after Frida, not knowing if the gate in the yard was open as she bursted out through the door. “Frida!” Violet grabbed the little dog, the pitcher in her hand emptying out on the grass, the water splashing and hitting Fame’s pants.

“Violet!” Violet looked up, her eyes wide as Fame raised her voice. “What do you think you’re doing-”

“I’m sorry Miss.”

“I don’t care about your excuses!” Fame’s tone was sharp, and Violet felt her stomach clench as she stood up, the pitcher on the ground, Frida in one hand, the stack of plates in the other, Raja and Sutan starring at both of them. “Have you hit your head? When did you become incapable of doing the simple task of not spilling like a toddler? Are you a toddler Violet?”

Violet was just about to respond when she was interrupted.

“Hey, Fame, I know you showed a giant stick up your ass when Patrick left you, but don’t be a fucking bitch okay? Nothing happened and Violet didn’t do it on purpose.”

Violet could see Fame’s chok, the woman’s eyes wide at the way Sutan had just spoken to her, but Violet turned her back, escaping before she could hear Fame’s respons. She knew she should be happy that Sutan was standing up for her, but it just felt humiliating. Like he didn’t trust her to stand up to herself. Violet could hear the talk in the garden pick back up again, Raja clearly mending the situation, all three of them soon laughing together like the old friends they were.

“Eveyone! Time for pie and TV! You come watch movie with Mani.”

“Yes mom!”

***

“Bianca,” Liz defended herself with an eyeroll, arm around her older sister. “I’m not saying it to be a bitch.”

“Right, I know, you being a bitch is just a fun side effect.” Bianca sipped her wine, rolling her eyes.

“I’m trying to look out for you! Look, I’m sure everything is just sunshine and rainbows right now, but really think about this...do you think this girl, this 22 year old, would be with you if you didn’t have money?”

“Well, I don’t know, Liz, I mean, if I didn’t have money...what would I be doing? Like actually no money? I don’t really think she’d be with a homeless person, if that’s what you’re asking, so...what’s your fucking point, exactly?”

“My point, B, is that this girl is clearly playing you. How long into your relationship did she get a recording contract? And now she’s on Housewives? Adore said she was only ever with guys before, and then she meets you, and all of a sudden, she’s a lesbian, overnight? Because of someone old enough to be her mother? More like she saw dollar signs--”

Bianca stood up. “Okay, you’re done now. Thanks for the advice, now you can shut your fucking mouth.”

“Bianca!” Aida exclaimed, passing by her daughters, collecting empty plates. “Watch your language, there are children here.”

“Tell Liz to stay out of my goddamn relationship,” Bianca said angrily, “Or I swear, we’re leaving right now! I am not staying and listening to this bullshit about my girlfriend being a gold digger. Fuck you, Liz--”

“Mija, mija, please…” Aida soothed, putting an arm around Bianca’s waist and a hand on Liz’s shoulder. “Elizabeth, why are you antagonizing your sister?”

“I’m NOT! I’m just trying to help her!”

“No, actually, you’re just being a CUNT--”

“Bianca! Stop!” Aida cried. “You know she’s just projecting because of her divorce, honey.”

“Mom!” Liz said, offended.

“Well, sorry, mija, but you’ve been very bitter. Courtney’s a nice girl.”

“Thank you!”

“I mean, she’s too young for you, but that’s not her fault.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Bianca threw up her hands.

***

“Oh god I want to die.” Pearl groaned. She was laying on her side, her stomach growling with all the food she had eaten, the top she was wearing almost painfully tight but she couldn’t phantom getting up to change,

“That’s what happens when you have four helpings of green bean casserole.” Pearl opened an eye to see Laila stand at the edge of the bed, her girlfriend in a band t-shirt and panties, her short legs on full display and if Pearl could have felt hungry in any way she would have fucked Laila into next week.

“You’re not being a very good girlfriend right now…” Pearl knew she was pouting, but it didn’t matter when Laila laughed and got underneath the covers with her, her girlfriend pulling her into a hug

***

Bianca climbed into the bed, wrapping Courtney into an embrace, sucking gently on her neck. “Hi,” she murmured, caressing the skin of her waist.

“Hi yourself…”

Bianca’s hands continued to wander, and her kisses grew heated. She let out a whimpery sigh, tangling their legs together.

Courtney shifted, hands stroking her back, looking up at her with an amused expression. “Seriously?” she whispered. “Are you really trying to have sex right now? There’s like 40 people in this house…”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a very stressful day.”

“No shit. I’m fucking exhausted, B.”

“Please, baby, I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” Bianca wheedled softly, fingertips trailing down her arms.

Courtney closed her eyes. “That’s all I need, for your family to think I’m a nympho in addition to being a gold digger.”

Bianca laughed. “You can bite on a pillow.”

“B…”

“Do you remember Thanksgiving last year?�� Bianca breathed into her ear.

Courtney bit her lip, suddenly bombarded with the sense memory of their first kiss, the surprising softness of Bianca’s plush lips, the pressure of her full hips against the kitchen sink, the shivers that raced through her body, the nervous anticipation, the feeling that her whole world was about to shift. If only she knew just how much…

Bianca cupped Courtney’s face in her hand, a thumb tracing her lips in the same gentle way she’d done a year ago, voice an urgent whisper. “I’d never wanted anyone more in my entire life, than the way I wanted you.” Her hips began to roll, pressing Courtney into the mattress.

“Bianca…”

“Did you? Did you want me too?”

A whimper escaped Courtney’s lips as she arched up against Bianca’s body, gripping her ass. “You know I did. So, so much…still do...”

Bianca nibbled a trail down her collarbone, hands sliding under her top. “Let me give you what you need, baby…what we both need...”

“Yes…” Courtney replied, breathless, succumbing to the desire that flooded through her. She closed her eyes, realizing that she’d once again been betrayed by her body, by her weakness for Bianca’s touch.

#galactica #au aag verse #rdr fanfiction #my fics

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