#i think they would be friends okay. like after drew mellows a bit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xihaveaplanxx · 8 months ago

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Tell Me What You Think About Your Situation (Short Story)

“I’m admittedly a bit scared to go up to her. Drew was very nice about things but....you know how she is.” Damian told me as we were packing up to leave the arena. Night two of Wrestlemania...surely was something. Damian was champion now and we were both so happy but the matter of how things went....it was a lot. Yes, things were talked about before, agreed too but I know Dreama and Drew were definitely not a fan of it, Dreama even more so. Drew had texted me earlier telling me she tore up the dressing room, and was trying to attack everyone. I’m not surprised.

Somehow her ex seemed to schmooze his way into things as usual. It seemed every time she was okay, he’d show up and fuck it up. I almost felt he loved tormenting her. He drove a wedge between her and so many people and just kept on going.

I remember when Damian came to me to tell me what the plan was. We both had reservations about it. We wanted Damian to win, after all, he’d waited so long but the matter...the involvement. Drew even spoke to us about it because he didn’t want to tell Dreama. He knew that if he did she’d find Punk earlier and attack him. He’d have not even made it to the announce table.

Last time I checked, Drew took her to the hotel and who knows how that went. She’s probably burning it down or something. Drew could take her though, it’s the only reason I wasn’t worried. Sure she was a powerful vampire but he was an even more powerful werewolf. By natural law, they should detest each other but they don’t. He dotes on her and she clings to him even if sometimes they get into a little...a lot of things together. They even took in Nathan, this younger vampire she met from nxt. She loved him and treated him like he was their child. He tended to be with them when NXT tapings were done. He’d travel with them. They were actually a very cute unit. Maybe Drew called Nathan to talk to her. He did soothe her but after tonight, I don’t know how much soothing would hold.

“Oh, Drew texted me.” Damian showed me his phone. “He sent a photo. Dreama is fast asleep.”

“I don’t want to ask how that happened.”

“I bet I know how judging by the claw marks on his arm, it was a time. I mean they say don’t put your dick in crazy but some dudes thrive on that, even if it means getting bitten, clawed and what not.”

“Damian!”

“Listen, if it calmed her?!”

“Oh Damian.” I shook my head. “Speaking of....I do believe...we have some celebrating to do ourselves. After all, my man is the champion.”

“Jenny, Jenny...” He shook his head at me, a smirk gracing his lips. “You read my mind. I think the others will understand though Rhea was betting we’d not even make it to the hotel.”

“....Who said she would be wrong?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I couldn’t sleep but Dreama was fast asleep, thank goodness. Shit went south in this hotel room. Completely so. My body was throbbing. From the pay per view, from what we did here. It was a lot. I had so many emotions. I was so happy for Damian. He was my friend. I didn’t even mind losing it to him in that way, it's just....that one little piece. One little fucking piece. That didn’t even need to be there but of course, his existence breeds numbers so he got in Trips ear. I saw how he smirked at me. He was reveling in it. That he could do this but it wasn’t even just me he was amused doing this to, it was to Dreama and that’s what bothered me. For someone who claimed he didn’t care for her he made sure he was always in her business. He loved making her suffer I swear and I hated it. We were all sworn by Trips to not use our powers on other talents on each other but I know Dreama wanted to bite him, fight him, she wanted to challenge him to a duel, blind side him and take his throat out. I could sense her rage. But also she flat out said it so that too. It was going to be a long couple months and I wanted to hope she’d mellow out but with him around.... I know how hard it is for her. I contemplated leaving her with Nathan in Florida but I knew if she was around him too much...I’d come back and he’d start dressing like her. He’d be like AJ but worse. That was a risk we didn’t need to take , but .... still. It would be better than leaving her backstage, letting her run into Punk and her attacking him unprovoked.

In my mind I just think of how happy I was with the title, in front of a crowd. I was so happy. I soaked it in. I played my part....I agreed to break my own heart but it’s for the greater good right? It would pay off? I told myself that. I told myself. I had to believe that Trips had our best interest at heart...that he was trying.

I just...

Could’t sleep.

I would get up but Dreama slept very lightly and I don’t think I had it in me to go another round with her. Not remotely. I just lied in the bed and pulled the blanket over us. We could deal with things in the morning. Maybe just maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to rest.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“IN THE CAR. THE RENTAL. JENNY YOU ARE WILD MY FRIEND. DOM DOM OWES ME 50 BUCKS! HAHA I WAS RIGHT!”

“Rhea my God you are letting the entire bar know?!”

“And why not? My best friend won the title and his awesome girlfriend GAVE HIM AN EVEN BETTER THING THAN THE TITLE in the rental car. Oh Jenny, I had no idea my wholesome alien buddy could be so naughty. I’m rubbing off on you.” She chuckled. “And I’m proud.”

“Listen...”

“I bet people in the parking lot sure were listening.”

“Rhea!”

“It’s true.” She laughed. “I’m glad seriously you guys are having a good night. I tried to call Dreama to check on her but Drew answered. He said she was fast asleep, which surprised me. He sounds so tired. I feel bad for him.”

“Yeah, he’s having a time. I hope he will be okay, honestly.”

“So do I. We should take them both out with us when we go to the arcade tomorrow. Dreama likes claw machines and Drew could do with being out. I mean unless you and Damian wanna sneak around and get freaky in the photobooths!”

“Rhea!:

“It’s possible.” She laughed. “Just try not to lean on the photo button. That can get risky.”

“You sound like you have experience.”

“I’m deciding to plead the fifth one because I just know that one time I had to get a little intense to get some photos back.”

“Jesus...”

“If he was there, I’m sure what happened in that booth would not have happened.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Damian, can I talk to you?” I was bracing for who knows what right now. We went to the arcade and Drew was having a meltdown at one of the ticket machines while Rhea and Jenny were trying to keep him from getting us all arrested. Dreama pulled me to the side by one of the other claw machines. She didn’t seem as pissy or maybe it was the giant stuffed cat in her arms, I wasn’t sure. “I...didn’t get to congratulate you last night so...congrats...Damian.”

“I know you are mad...”

“It’s not you I’m mad at. Really you did deserve this, it's just....”

“No...I understand...”

“I feel so bad I didn’t congratulate you. I mean you were doing as it was planned I just...”

“I know.” I frowned. “But thank you. I thought you hated me.”

“Nah, you make my best friend happy and also you were just doing what was planned. I couldn’t hate you. I mean unless you stopped making Jenny happy, then I’d hate you and probably destroy you and everything you hold dear.”

“That’s...I am glad she has such a caring friend at the same time....”

“She’s been through alot. Trust me before you came along. We had a slight fight because when she was in school I might have killed two of her classmates.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. People were mean to her and she came to me crying...I just...I really care for her and you have been so great to her, so caring and sweet. Just never hurt her, okay...please...like forget the title and bullshit...just....please...you and I will never have beef so long as you are good to her.”

“You have my word.”

0 notes

dakarimainink · 4 years ago

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Invitation

WARNING: 18+, SMUUUUUT, alcohol, public fingering, public orgasm, cocky attitude, bodily fluids, protected fucking, oral female receiving, multiple orgasm for female, orgasm, slight humiliation, a splash of angst, swearing, a hint of sub/dom, clit slapping (because lord have mercy)

Pairing: Dave York x You (Reader)

Wordcount: 7K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own. omfg... this is a fuckin' mess!!!! this is the most warnings I've applied too.... This is my first work with Dave York and I loved how it turned out! Probably going to hell for this too

it started as a small idea and as I wrote, it just became longer and longer. 7K??? gah! I just fell straight for Dave York when I watched the equalizer 2 and omfg!!!

Anyway, just a second note to this story, you (reader) is a bit of a hopeless mess for this guy, just sayin'....

You're invited to the CIA gala dinner by Dave York and you accept.

Masterlist

It was the annual CIA gala dinner. Somehow, Mr. York had decided to bring you – his secretary – to the dinner, as his wife were out of town with the kids.

You had never been to such an event before and were worried perhaps you wouldn’t fit in. You certainly didn’t have the clothes for it, so you sought help from your friend, who had pulled you through nearly every clothing store in Washington. Dresses weren’t your thing, they were clingy, uncomfortable and the biggest crime of them all, no pockets.

After following tediously several YouTube videos on how to do makeup and hair, you finally were ready to leave for the gala. Your friend had suggested getting a coat with the dress, but you knew it was a one-time thing and therefore opted for your own black long-coat. Your friend had also lent them their silver clutch bag to match the little jewellery you had. You barely remembered last time you wore a necklace, but there it hung around your neck. A small little diamond droplet you had inherited from your mother (or was it grandmother?).

The doorbell rang and pulled you out of your thoughts. Your heart thumped a little harder as you walked towards your front door. You were nervous, not quite sure on how to behave or talk or even if you would recognise anyone there. The people you did work with – the other secretaries and office workers – weren’t even going to the event. It was only for the people higher up and you had received some strange looks when you told them.

You admitted to being honoured that Mr. York had asked you of all people, that he didn’t even chose to go alone. He could have even asked Alexis – a woman with style and class sitting higher up than yourself – as she was into him. The only reason you knew was because she never shut up about it whenever she engaged in conversations with you by the coffee machine.

She would gush about him like a schoolgirl, which was uncharacteristically of her. Whenever he passed by, not even glancing in your direction, she would almost squeal her heart out once he was out of sight. You knew she was only engaging with you in order to know Mr. York’s schedule and meetings, but you weren’t giving up that information so easily. You took your job seriously, mostly because you were desperate to keep it as you had been going from one workplace to the other for two years.

You admitted to yourself he was a good looking man, always cleanshaven, neatly dressed and always carried himself with such high authority. But he was married with children and in your book, that was hands off. You weren’t sure if it was Alexis who had smitten you or if his authoritative aura and stern voice whenever he asked you to do something, had led you to sometimes dream of him. But you had slapped yourself mentally and told yourself to not pursue it further than your dreams.

You remembered once she asked you why you kept calling him Mr. York, he had a first name after all. You had said truthfully, you did it out of respect, but there was another reason as well. You were afraid that if you called him by his first name, you would trick yourself into thinking you would ever have a chance with him. The only time you did say his first name, was when your fingers were deep inside your drenching pussy, moaning out his name as you came undone.

You brushed the crease on your high cut black dress before reaching for the door handle. You knew it was him on the other side who had come to pick you up.

You opened up the door and found Mr. York standing tall with his back to the door, looking at your front porch. He turned around and his eyes widened at your presence. They drew across your body as his lips parted with a slow exhale. His eyes lingered for a moment on your exposed leg before they drew up again to meet your eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N you look…” His eyes roamed your body again, taking in the sight of you before locking eyes with you once more. “Divine.”

Mr. York was particular with his words. He believed choosing once words carefully would aid one to a clearer understanding of once intentions. The fact that he chose to use “divine” to describe you, sent delicious shivers down your spine.

“Thank you, Mr. York.” You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “You look handsome.” You added, trying to avert attention from yourself. And he was mouth-watering handsome; dressed in a dark blue three piece suit, white shirt and black tie. His hair was styled and he was newly shaven.

He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and smirked at your compliment. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, just let me get my coat and clutch bag.” You turned around, grabbed your coat and swung it around your body before sliding your arms in. You picked up your bag and made sure you had everything you needed. You locked your front door and followed Mr. York outside.

He opened the door to his black BMW and held your hand as you sat down into the passenger seat. He closed the door after you and got around and into the driver’s seat.

As he sat down, the smell of his spicy cologne hit your nose and you inhaled deeply. As you exhaled, you realised he was looking at you curiously. You cleared your throat and felt a heat wash over you. You reached for the seatbelt and secured it.

He did the same before starting the engine. The roar of the motor startled you and you held onto your bag. He placed his hand on the shift stick and looked at you. “Everything okay?” He asked softly.

You swallowed thickly, trying hard not to rub your thighs together as his eyes lingered on you. “Y-yes, just a bit anxious.” You admitted and shifted in your seat. You darted out your tongue to dampen your lips. His eyes immediately snapped to your shimmering mouth and you couldn’t help but nervously smile.

“There’s no need to be, I’ll take care of you.”

Your lips parted at his words. Oh god how you wanted this man to tend to you and your desires. You pressed your thighs together as you looked away, trying hard to be as discreet as possible. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, which made you squirm on the inside, fighting the urge to throw yourself at the man sitting next to you.

The engine roared again before you drove off to the gala.

~~~

On arrival, a man dressed in a black tuxedo opened the door for you and assisted you in getting out. You decided to leave your coat in the car, as you were told the event would be completely indoors.

A second man held the door open for Mr. York before he handed the man his keys to park the car. You stood still as you waited for Mr. York to arrive by your side, your eyes wandering the tall outside walls and windows, a warm light emitting from inside.

You walked nervously next to him, your fingers clutching onto your bag as you stepped up the small flight of stairs to the entry. Mr. York handed the invitations over to the man by the entrance before the door was pushed open by a second man. A mellow glow of light shone through and a wall of chatter hit your ears.

As you passed the threshold your eyes widened at the amount of people grouped up all around the grand ballroom. Great chandeliers hung from the ceilings above the many round tables decorated with expensive dining ware and huge vases overfilled with big bouquets of flowers. There was a golden glow all around the room, making it almost like a lucid dream.

Your presence caught people’s attention as you stood by the door. You gulped nervously as you felt eyes burning into you. You wanted to run and hide. You wanted to curl up in Mr. York’s embrace and melt away. You sensed a sting of regret as you stood there like a piece of exhibition for anyone to ogle at.

Your eyes widened as you felt a warm hand on your exposed lower back. You turned your head and met a pair of calm brown eyes. He leaned close to your ear. “Relax, Y/N.” He whispered, the breath tickling your skin.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Everyone’s looking.” You mumbled back, feeling small in such a huge room with high-ranking people.

“I can’t blame them; the view is stunning after all.” He smirked and straightened up. A man dressed in the same outfit as the men outside, held up a tray with champagne glasses. Dave picked up one and handed it to you. You looked at him questioning. “You might as well enjoy it all.”

You took the glass from him and took a sip. The taste was crispy with a hint of apple. He retrieved his hand from your back and held it in front of you. “I won’t let anyone get near you.”

You glanced at his hand and believed him. Your eyes darted at the several hungry-looking men before placing your hand in his. He gave it a small squeeze before leading the way into the room.

“Thank you, Mr. York.”

He scoffed in amusement. “No need to be so formal, Y/N. Call me Dave, I insist.” Your eyes met and for a moment, the buzzing around you drowned out. You could stay connected with them until the end of time. He guided you through the crowd of people, giving a nod here and a shake there as you walked. You didn’t recognise anyone or any of the names as Dave greeted them one by one.

“Ah, Dave. It’s good to see you.” A man dressed in a black and white suit came wandering over to you with a woman next to him in a red dress. “And who is this sweet little bird?” His eyes roamed your body and lingered on your chest. “Didn’t know you had a mistress on the side, Mr. York.” He winked and looked at Dave next to you, who had a stern frown painted on his face.

You uncomfortably took a long sip from your champagne, feeling out of place with a hint of disgust the minute the man had said his first word approaching you.

Dave’s arm immediately went around your waist and pulled you a little closer. “Mr. Brown, this is Y/N.” You could feel the heat radiating from him through his suit. “Y/N, this is Michael Brown and his wife Alexis Brown.”

It took you a moment to register it was in fact Alexis from the office. This would explain why he didn’t invite her. Your eyes met and you could see the jealousy drip from her pores as she gave you the most toxic smile you had ever seen someone give you.

“Ah, the secretary.” She scoffed. “Wife busy, Mr. York? I thought you would at least settle for something more…” She wiped her upper lip with her tongue. “… séduisant.”

You furrowed your brows at the last word. You had no idea what it meant but you sure as hell knew there was something venomous behind it. It made your blood boil and all you could think of was spitting something back at her, but what? You didn’t even know what she said and it just frustrated you further.

“Alexis, the day I want to invite a snake, I’ll make sure to keep you in mind.” Dave bit back and his words took you all by surprise. “By the way, how is Jonathan at eleventh floor? I heard he helped you with a copying issue last week.”

Your jaw dropped.

Alexi’s eyes narrowed.

Michael’s lips turned thin. “No need to ruin the mood, Mr. York. We get your point.” Michael said through clenched teeth. “We’ll leave.” He grabbed Alexis’ wrist and pulled her with him as they stomped through the crowd.

You looked up at Dave who kept his eyes at the couple until they were gone. He turned to you and placed his hands on both your arms. “Are you okay?” He asked concerned, as if you had been hit by a truck, which it felt like considering the scene that just unfolded right in front of you. His thumb lightly caressed your skin and you felt your knees tremble slightly.

“I’m just…” You stumbled at a loss for words. The mixture of alcohol, his presence and caress made your head swim. “What did she say?”

He gave you a half smirk and let his hands fall to his side. “Doesn’t matter, it was rude and she got what she deserved.” He looked around the room, noticing the crowds were wandering towards the tables. “Let’s find some seats.” He took your hand in his and led you through the room.

Dave held your chair and assisted you in sitting down. Once seated he sat down in the chair next to you, sliding the chair a little closer to yours. You could feel the warmth emit through his clothes and you swallowed thickly. Inhaling once again his musky scent and exhaled slowly. Fuck he smelled good.

You quickly reached for your champagne glass and downed the whole drink. You didn’t remember the last time you had drunk alcohol and realised it was probably a mistake to even drink it, as the liquor had a pretty fast effect on your body, especially considering you had only eaten breakfast that day.

Your eyes roamed the faces of the table, but you realised there was no point to it, as you didn’t recognise any of them. You hadn’t even seen their faces before, let alone even heard their names. You kept your hands twiddling in your lap as you kept looking down on the big round plate with nothing on top. You could feel a slight growl in your stomach and darted your gaze around to make sure no one heard it.

It would be hard of course, as everyone around you were too busy chatting with each other. Some were talking about finances, others about their families and Dave –

“Well yes, unfortunately my wife is out of town this weekend, but luckily I was accompanied by this lovely lady.” You felt a hand gently wrap around one of your twiddling hands, his fingers brushing against your thigh as he grabbed it. You inhaled sharply as your eyes locked with his. “Y/N, I would like to introduce you to the director of public affairs; Caleb Wallace.”

You put on your warmest smile and reached your hand over to him. He gladly shook it with a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Dave told me you’re working as his secretary and that he is very satisfied with your work.”

Your eyes jumped to Dave who seemed to hold by that statement. You weren’t sure if he was lying or not, but you decided to take it. If he had said it, then he probably meant it.

“Well, I wish he had told me those words as well.” You chuckled jokingly.

Caleb laughed with you, finally letting go of your hand. “Why yes, isn’t that always the struggle. Praise is often heard by the ones it’s not directed at.”

You leaned back and saw the stern underlying face on Dave. You gulped as his eyes barely narrowed onto you and you felt your heart drop. You realised your mistake already and cursed yourself for drinking the champagne.

He turned his head to Caleb with a grin, joining in on the joke, but you knew he was upset with what you had said. “Well, I am sure she will see the value of her hard work once we go over the yearly results and the bonus she might get.”

You turned away from the men and chewed on your inner cheek as you stared back at the plate in front of you. Your heart skipped a beat when a man suddenly leaned on your left and poured champagne into your empty glass. You were about to protest when you felt a squeeze on your hand. You looked down and found Dave was still holding it.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea I have any more.” You mumbled as the waiter continued to pour drinks for the rest of the table.

Dave leaned closer to you. “You don’t have to drink it, but it’s nice to have an option, isn’t it? I also heard it pairs good with the meal we’re soon to be served.” He winked and leaned back before turning back to Caleb.

You stared at the bubbly glass and agreed, it was nice to have an option. And you believed if you were to survive this evening, you needed some liquor courage. Out of habit, you reached for the glass and took a sip as you felt the anxiety linger as some eyes continued to glance at you from around.

The meal was served; slow cooked brisket with wine and mushroom sauce, served with side of homemade creamy mashed potatoes, along with a slightly buttered and grilled zucchini and squash vegetables.

Your mouth watered instantly the smell hit your nose and you dampened your lips in anticipation. You picked up your fork and knife and begun to eat. The room almost fell silent as everyone ate their served meal. The taste was better than you imagined and your stomach were silently thanking you for finally eating something.

As you ate, the older woman sitting next to you on your left had begun a light conversation with you. When you told her you were a secretary, she had really shown interest, as she said it was how she had first begun working for the CIA.

“Never let men walk all over you, you hear me?” She had begun sternly. “If anyone tries anything funny, if they even step a toe over your personal line, you make sure to tell them.”

You knew her words were meant as good, but you couldn’t help but notice a slight tinge of toxicity in her tone. She must have gone through quite a bit of struggle to give such a warning to you, but you knew this yourself, considering the struggle you went through on your third full-time job. You had made sure to clap back at him when you saw him go from annoying you to the newest girl at work.

You finished your meal and alternated from having a conversation with Caleb and Dave, to the older woman next to you, Rosa Shell.

As you were turned to Rosa, you felt something bump into your knee. You looked down underneath the tablecloth and saw Dave had widened his legs apart as he was speaking with Caleb. The movement took you by surprise and you couldn’t help but notice the slight bulge growing in his trousers. You darted your eyes up to the flower bouquet adorning the middle of the table and shallowly breathed through your lips.

“Is everything alright, my dear?” Rosa asked and took your hand.

You cleared your throat before turning back to her. “Yes, just… it’s a bit warm in here.” You lied. Although it wasn’t a complete lie, the mix of alcohol and Dave’s innocent touch had made your ears burn.

Rosa nodded in agreement. “It sure is. Why don’t we, after dessert, step outside for some air.”

“Dessert?”

And as you said those words, a plate adorned with a chocolate souffle was placed in front of you. You blinked down at it, not being prepared for a dessert to be served. You shifted in your chair and glanced over at Dave who seemed preoccupied talking with Caleb and another man next to him again.

You were about to take a bite of your souffle, when you felt a hand rest on the middle of your thigh. Your eyes widened and you looked down, seeing it was Dave’s hand. You breathed as slowly and controllably as you could, trying not to let it get to you.

You took your first bite as you chose to ignore the heat enveloping between your legs. The chocolate melted on your tongue and you felt your body relax a little, until you felt a light squeeze on your flesh. You turned your head slowly and met a pair of dark brown eyes. You held your own breath as you scanned his face. His fingers were gently rubbing into your skin and you felt your panties getting wet already.

There was a smirk hiding on his lips as he leaned closer to you. “You seem a bit flustered, Y/N.” He whispered. “Could it be because you haven’t had any relief all day?”

You titled back and looked at him with wide and confused eyes. How did he know? And how can this man have such an effect on you? He’s just resting his hand on your thigh.

He let out a scoff. “You don’t think I noticed your dilated pupils, trembling breath and rubbing thighs in the car?”

You swallowed thickly as a blush crept up your cheeks. You felt your whole body heating up as his fingers reached between the slit on your dress and to the inside of your thigh. You inhaled sharply at the touch of his fingers against your skin.

“Mr. York…”

“Dave.” He reminded you with a dark gaze.

“Dave…” You corrected yourself. “I don’t think…” His fingers slowly slid up your thigh along your ever heating flesh.

“Think what?”

Your jaw trembled. “I don’t think this is appropriate.” You squeezed out, trying to hold your composure.

At the apex of your thigh, he dug his fingers into your skin. “But rubbing your thighs together and spreading that sweet aroma of yours in my car is?”

You let out a shuddered breath and wrapped your left hand around his wrist. You wanted to push him away, but your body was already betraying you and you let him close the gap to your aching mound.

His fingers brushed against the fibres of your panties and a dark grin grew on his lips. You saw he felt it and your ears burned red. He tilted his head in a mocking way as his fingers pressed against your clit. Your lips parted at his touch and your fingers dug into his skin.

“Don’t.” You whispered, begged.

His fingers circled your clit slowly. “Don’t what?” He asked, as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

Before you could reply, his fingers slid between the folds of your clothed mound, feeling your juices seep through the fibres. Your right hand snapped to his thigh and you held your breath as he teased you.

Your jaw trembled as you tried to speak up.

“Don’t what, Y/N? We need to communicate in order to understand each other.”

Oh, he was enjoying this. You could see the mocking glee spread across his face as he continued to massage your nub.

You took a deep shuddering breath, ready to tell him to retrieve his hand from your dripping cunt and leave you be, but…

“Don’t stop.”

Fuck…………………………………

He seemed just as surprised as you were. His lips parted in disbelief as he scanned your face.

You tried to speak up again, to say that’s not what you meant, but it was what you meant. God, you had been thinking about having this man fuck you for weeks and now he had his fingers rubbing your soaked panties in the middle of a gala dinner, surrounded by high ranking people you would probably never see again.

He hooked your panties to the side and as soon as his warm fingers slid between your folds, you squeezed your hand on his thigh. He pushed two fingers into your mound, massaging your walls and your eyelids fell heavy.

He leaned close to your ear. “Keep your composer.” He ordered and rubbed your clit with the heel of his palm.

You clenched your jaw as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You let go of his wrist and forcefully placed your hand on top of the table, trying hard to not moan as you felt your walls tighten around him. You bit your lower lip and stared at the flowers in front of you.

You couldn’t believe Dave York was fingering you in public like this. Not only could it expose you, but it could get you both fired. It could easily ruin both of your lives, but here he sat; fingers deep and eyes fixated at the restraint on your face.

He felt your legs quiver and knew you were at the verge of coming. A smirk grew on his lips as he rubbed your clit faster, pressing harder into you.

Your fingers grasped at the table as you clenched around his fingers. Your abdomen tightened and you almost choked on your breath as you forced yourself to not cry out in pleasure. Your whole body were set on fire and you coughed in order to get something out of you. You tilted your head back as you inhaled deeply with lips parted wide. You breathed out shuddering and swallowed thickly. You lowered your head, terrified of meeting anyone’s eyes.

Dave retrieved his hand and you both saw his fingers shimmer in the low glow from the chandeliers. He admired it for a moment before leading it up to his mouth and cleaned them with his mouth, sounding a low hum from his chest.

Rosa turned to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. “My dear, are you alright? You’re at the brim of sweating.” She asked with a worried look.

You kept your head low as you stared at the souffle on your plate. You were still on your high wave and had no way of speaking.

Dave placed his hand on your forehead and your eyes widened as you smelled the lingering aroma of your juices from his fingers. “Hmm, you’re very warm, Y/N. Perhaps I should take you home.”

You nod. It’s all you can do. He gets up from his chair and assist you in standing up. You leaned onto him as your legs still felt like jelly.

Fuck, it had been a long time since you had come that hard. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he made you come as well. You barely remembered the last time you even got laid. The thoughts made you squirm inwards. You just begged no one else could smell your pussy as you made your way out to the car.

~~~

You opened your clutch bag and fiddled around to get out your keys. You felt Dave’s eyes burn into the back of your neck. You pulled out your keys and froze, feeling flustered at what had happened during the dinner. A tinge of irritation and embarrassment washed over you as you thought back on you coming by the table.

You whipped around and gave him a stern look. It was time you told him you shouldn’t have done it and you expected him to never do such a thing again.

“That was not okay.” You barked out, trying hard to be upset about the situation. Deep down you knew you enjoyed it, having him play with you like that. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and cocked his head to the side. “It didn’t sound like it when you told me to not stop.” He began casually. “It didn’t feel like it when you were already soaked before I could reach that aching cunt of yours.” He took a step closer to you, making you press your back against the cold door. “It didn’t look like it when your whole body shuddered at the orgasm I gave you.” He raised his hand to your cheek and gently stroked it. “It didn’t smell like it when that sweet honey of yours seeped between your thighs and it most certainly didn’t taste like it when I enjoyed the hint of you on my fingers.”

His words had you panting as he held your chin in a tight grip. You were dripping once again and you were about to press your legs together, when his knee was placed between your thighs. Your lips parted in surprise as you met his eyes.

“Aroused?” He asked in a fruity and teasing tone. You swallowed thickly as you breathed between your parted lips. He glanced down at your legs pressing against his knee. He shook his head with a smirk before his eyes snapped to yours. He scanned your face with a stern look. “I want you to unlock that door of yours and then I’ll give you a choice.” He loosened his grip on your chin and peeked at your plump lips. He swiped his thumb across your lower lip. “Either you tell me good night and I will leave without question. We will pretend as if this evening never happened and you will continue to work as my secretary. Or…”

You had already decided that the first option was the best. You had to set down your foot and leave this night behind you.

He dipped his head down and brushed his lips against yours before tilting back again, looking at you. Your head moved forward, wanting to kiss him before you forced yourself back. The movement made him smirk. “You let me in and I will make you come twice more.” He whispered.

You felt like someone had smacked you across the face as his words hit your eardrums. Did he just…? Your mound screamed at you to just fuck this man right there. You gaped at him in disbelief.

He let go of your chin and took a step back, giving you room to think and to breathe. Your legs immediately clapped and you pressed them together, feeling embarrassment wash over you at how turned on you were. You were glad you had the door to lean on as you felt your knees already struggling. But no, you couldn’t let this man do this to you. You had to say no. You had to.

He stood unbothered in front of you with hands in his pockets. He kept his eyes on your face, trying to see what was going on inside.

You gulped and turned around, keys in hand and guided the key to the lock with a shaky hand. You struggled to get it in and it didn’t take long until his hand wrapped around yours and helped you steady your trembling. The heat of his body seeped through your coat as he leaned into you. You heard him inhale your scent deeply and you couldn’t help but exhale unsteadily.

You managed to turn the key yourself and open the door. You stepped across the threshold and turned around to find him standing still. He was looking at you patiently, waiting for you to make your choice.

Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. You chanted it like a mantra inside your head as you held his gaze. You’re not welcome in. You’re not welcome in. You’re not welcome in.

You’re not wel- “Come in.”

Oh, for fucks sake…………………………………

He dampened his lips as he dragged his fingers through his hair. He sauntered past you and into your entry hall. You shook your head at yourself. I need more self-control, what is wrong with me.

You closed the door and turned to him. He was standing sideways, looking up and down your body. The stare made your skin heat up immediately and a blush crept to your cheeks. It was already too late. Your body had spoken. Your mouth had spoken. Every part of you yearned for this one man who were now standing in your hallway, scrutinising every inch of your delicate frame.

You licked your lips and caught your lower lip with your teeth. You didn’t know where this was going. Perhaps he had said it as a joke? To test you. Oh god, what if you had failed. You were about to open your mouth, when he took three long strides towards you and pressed you against the front door. The lion had you cornered and your body cried for more.

You inhaled sharply as his hands roamed down your waist and he placed fervent kisses on your neck and along your jaw. He caught your lips and begun a slow dance with your tongue. His hands slid up your body and squeezed around your breasts. You moaned into his mouth and he kneaded the flesh, surely to leave bruises the next morning. You wrapped your arms around his neck and felt your pussy drip with excitement.

He grabbed your wrists and placed them above your head against the door. He ended the kiss, hungry and determined eyes met your aching ones. “Keep them there.” He ordered and trailed kisses along your jaw and down your throat.

You gasped for air as he slowly went down to his knees. You looked with wide eyes down at him. He tilted his head back and met your gaze. His eyes were dark with desire as he grabbed the hems of your slit in your dress. You breathed faster as he fisted the silk between his fingers.

A loud rip sounded through the house as he tore the dress apart. You let out a cry of surprise as he smirked up at you. The slit, once ended at your thigh, was now open all the way to your navel.

“Legs apart.” He growled, already smelling your arousal. You did as you were told and he bent forward, biting your inner thigh. Your arms flew down to his hair in plea. He lifted his hand and gave your cunt a slap, eliciting a yelp of surprise and pleasure. “I instructed you to keep your arms above your head.” He reminded you and you heaved for air as you rose them above your head again.

He kissed and nibbled at your flesh as he moved closer and closer to the apex of your thigh. You were fighting against moving your arms as he closed in on your aching mound.

He hooked the sides of your panties and pulled them down slowly. He inhaled deeply as the smell of your honey reached his nostrils and he let out a shuddering breath. You kept looking down on him, seeing how he admired the sight in front of him. He tilted his head slightly back and caught your eyes. He held it as he moved closer and you could feel his hot breath on your skin.

He drew the flat of his tongue between your petals and growled as he tasted you on his tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he circled your clit with his tongue. He rose his hand and pushed two fingers into your dripping cavern. You moaned out as he massaged your inner walls.

Your arms lowered down and you wrapped one hand around the door handle for support and one hand grabbed your breast, kneading the flesh to soothe the sexual frustration building within you. He pressed his fingers deeper into you and it made you buck your hips forward. He jerked out of you and snapped his head back. Before you could look down on him, you felt a sting on your pussy and a cry of pleasure left your trembling lips.

“Stand still.” He snarled. You looked down at him through heavy eyelids and nodded apologetically. No one had treated you like this; dominating your movement. Your body loved every part of it.

His expression softened and he dove straight between your legs again. He lifted up your leg and placed it over his shoulder. With three fingers in and the flat of his tongue pressing on your clit, you felt your knees starting to shake and your walls clench.

He sucked and circled your clit as he curled his fingers in, massaging your g-spot. A shock shot through your body and you gasped for air as your stomach clenched. “Dave…” You rasped when you tripped over the edge. Your body lit up and delicious sparks flew through your veins as you came undone. Both your hands grasped at his hair and he growled as he lapped up every drop dripping out of your pussy.

He rose to his feet and crashed onto your lips immediately. You could taste yourself on his tongue as it made you groan. Your fingers entangled into the back of his hair and you lightly tugged at it as you felt his erection against your abdomen.

He broke the kiss and placed wet kisses on your neck, sucking gently on your pulse. “Are you protected?” He murmured against your skin as he worked the clasp on his belt.

You cursed at yourself. You had stopped taking pills about a year ago, finding it a waste of money as you didn’t have a boyfriend. “N-no.” You stuttered.

He reached into his inner suit jacket pocket. He pulled out a thin foil packet and gave you a wink. “I had an intuition.” He smirked proudly. He pulled the jacket off and threw it to the side, letting it land on the hallway bench.

He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his throbbing cock. You gaped down at the sight of it, seeing the precum on his head glisten in the light. He held up the packet by your mouth and looked at your lips. “Bite.” He ordered with a breathy voice.

You bit down on the corner of the pack and he pulled it to the side, making a tear. He pulled the condom out and rolled it onto himself. He pulled your leg up and placed himself by your opening. He kissed you hard as he slowly pushed himself inside you. Your walls moulded to his entry as he pushed all the way in, kissing your cervix.

You both moaned heavily as you were connected, revelling on the incredible feeling. He pressed his forehead against yours and sighed heavily. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He rasped.

You let go of his hair and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He grabbed the hem of your dress and pushed it to the side. His hand slid around your other thigh and he pulled you up. You immediately wrapped your legs around his hips and he pressed you harder against the door, his cock going deeper into you. You snapped your head back against the door and let out a cry of pleasure.

He pushed out of you before slamming in again, forcing the air out of your lungs. His hips moved back and forth in a passionate pace. Your walls sucked him in every time he pulled out and pushed him out whenever he slammed in. You felt his cock throb inside your cunt as he continued to fuck you to oblivion.

You dipped your head forward and left fervent kisses on his neck and jawline. He moved his head back and caught your lips, kissing you hard as he felt your walls clench around him. “I need you to come for me.” He gasped between kisses. “Come for me.”

You broke away from the kiss and pressed you head against his shoulder as he thrusted harder into you. You knew if anyone walked past your home, they would hear the door slam in its hinges and the lock rattle. You loved how he wasn’t careful with you, that he didn’t think you were a porcelain doll easily broken. It made your head swim.

Your abdomen tightened and your toes curled as a heat exploded within you. Your fingers dug into his back as he fucked you through your orgasm. You gasped for air as he trusted once more inside you and stilled deep within. He grunted out as he came undone and his fingers dug into your thighs, leaving more marks on your skin. You both shuddered and heaved for air as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

He carefully let you down to your feet and you immediately reached for the doorhandle to lean on. You felt your knees shake and you struggled to stand up. He admired the hopeless sight of you and helped you sit down on the small hallway bench.

Your eyes fluttered open and you saw him take the condom off. He tied a knot on it and put it in his trouser pocket. He tucked himself back in, zipped up and buckled his belt. As he turned to you with a cocky smirk, he dragged his fingers through his hair and readjusted his tie.

He took a step closer to you and caught your chin between his thumb and index finger. He leaned down and tenderly kissed you. You felt the high of your orgasm calm down and you could focus in on his face. He straightened up and picked up his suit jacket, swung it around and slid his arms in. “I’ll repay you for the dress.” He said apologetically and bent forward to caress your cheek. “I’m looking forward to see you on Monday.” He kissed your forehead before he walked over to the door. He placed his hand on the handle and looked over his shoulder. “Preferably without underwear.” He opened the door and stepped outside. He gave you a last look, savouring the beautiful sight and closed the door behind him.

You sat still on the bench, feeling your legs still trembling and your pussy sore. You still couldn’t believe you just got fucked by Dave York.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @ah-callie, @mamacitapascal

#Pedro pascal #Dave york #the equalizer 2 #Dave york x reader #Dave york x you #Dave york x Y/N #smut #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

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fenheart87 · 4 years ago

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Name For Your Order?

My work for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Exchange 2021! This goes out to @bevvydraws . Prompt was Coffee shop au! - So a coffee shop au where Luka is a singer who occasionally performs at the cafe, and Marinette is the shy barista who keeps forgetting to ask his name.

It was Tuesday, a bright and sunny Tuesday. Usually, just another day of the week except Marinette had been persuaded to swap her shift so one of her co-workers had the day free, which she did not mind at all, for two reasons. The first being that co-worker always covered when she needed it, and extra hours never hurt, but the bigger reason was one tall, blue-eyed and sweet guitarist that played at their little coffee shop on most Tuesdays. Now if she could only manage to talk to him and get his name, that way she could quit calling him ‘blue eyes’ in her head. Maybe she would ask him when he came to get his free cup of coffee, a perk that the manager gave for him bringing in more business.

Looking at the clock showed that the rush hour would be hitting soon, and Marinette checked all the cups, syrups, and other mixing items to make a list of what needed to be restocked before the rush. They never seemed to be successful in preparing for it but anything to make the miserable time easier was always a plus. Moving to the back she grabbed as many items as she could carry until Nino came in through the employee door and helped to break up the load with an empty box he found. Smiling gratefully, Marinette emptied her arms and grabbed a few things she was unable to before. She opened the door for Nino and helped to refill the items, weaving through the other employees as they were making drinks and serving pastries.

“Welcome to The Busy Bean, what can I make fresh for you?” Marinette greeted, finishing a refill of the large cups.

“I’d like a cappuccino with caramel drizzle please.”

“What size for the cappuccino?”

“Medium, I think small goes too quick and the large gets ignored when I’m playing back to back.” Oh, he was early.

“Sure thing!” Marinette squeaked, almost punching in the wrong order but correcting at the last second. She grabbed a medium-sized cup and slid to the side to write on it while her manager comped the drink for the part-time musician. Passing off the cup for someone else to make it, the petite employee moved back to the register. “Next time I recommend a chocolate swirl. it makes it even better.”

“I’ll have to try that next time. Time for me to get to work, thanks Marinette.” The musician smiled softly, just like always, and then made his way to the little stage area they had.

“Still didn’t get his name huh?” Nino teased, knocking Marinette out of her love-struck staring.

“No, and I don’t want to know from you.” The DJ shrugged with a smile and handed off another drink. It had become a thing between the two childhood friends, the mysterious singer was actually Nino’s roommate that he never really talked about by name. It was surprising but humorous and the DJ had fun, too much in the designer’s opinion, teasing her about her crush and not being able to ask him for his name.

“Okay, dudette, but you do realize I’ve been fighting not to say his name anytime we talk, it’s difficult.”

“Free macaroons and I’ll even throw in an eclair a day for Alya.” The raven-haired girl bargained with a sly smile.

“You drive a hard bargain dudette but you got yourself a deal.”

“Welcome to The Busy Bean, what can I get started for you today?” Marinette hip-checked Nino who snorted good-naturedly and moved back to his place in the hot drink line.

The lunch rush came and went, and the stress was eased by the upbeat pop songs the guitarist had been noodling together for the better part of an hour. Marinette had missed her break but was fine as she could take a longer one now that there were only a few people in the coffee shop. Deciding to whip up a similar drink but with sprinkles and roasted marshmallow, she grabbed two medium cups and made her way to the ‘Blue-Eyed Prince’ as Nino teased.

“Hey stranger, thought you could use a pick me up.”

“Well if you’re talking about the coffee then yes, not that I would say no if you were talking about yourself.”

“I uh, what?” Marinette stuttered and froze with her hand outstretched.

“Sorry, Nino has been teasing me about the coffee girls. I take it, you’re not one?I’ll ask for you to make my drinks from now on, it’s hard to play when I’m being flirted with and some girls can’t take no for an answer.” The guitarist sighed, sipping on his drink. Surprise colored his features for a moment, making the coffee worker giggle.

“I put a spin on it, I hope you like it.”

“Sprinkles,” he smiled crookedly and Marinette felt her breath catch, “I like it. Think we can make this my regular drink?”

“When I’m here yeah, I don’t usually work Tuesdays, but now a co-worker owes me and I’ll see you on Fridays to make your signature drink.”

“Cool, I shouldn’t keep you since you get paid to be here and I’m just here to vibe.“

"I had extra time on my break, at least I’m over here and not being harassed by people trying to get their caffeine fix and bugging me when I’m clearly on break at a table. I need to bring a jacket back to work so I can zip it up and not be bothered.”

“Hey I’m here until closer to six, take mine so you don’t get harassed.” He passed over a well loved leather jacket that had a hint of cologne.

“Oh I couldn’t- I mean that’s so nice but I’m so clumsy and I would spill something on it.”

“Nino talked about a friend that works here, she’s a pretty bomb designer and I’ve seen her work on his favorite jacket that she made him and the stains that Chris has put it through. If you make a mess, I have faith she’ll be able to fix it.”

Marinette squeaked as she turned red, and the musician’s knowing look, causing butterflies to run rampant in her stomach. Accepting the jacket, she hid her face and listened to his smooth chuckle.

“Alright I need to play something chill, it seems like the ladies with the short hair cuts like to their chins? They are quite uh-”

“Demanding? Crazy? Rude? A little too Bourgeois?” The shop employee rattled off after removing her face from the leather cover. “Yeah, it’s about that time because the yoga class and spin classes let out.”

“Any requests?”

“I like Jagged Stone but I don’t think they appreciate it. Maybe something mellow?” Marinette mused before Nino waved with a hand signal. “Ah Nino needs help, he’s hopeless with the swirls. Duty calls.”

“When does your shift end?”

“Supposed to be five-fifteen.”

“I’ll play Jagged for you then.”

“Awesome! See ya ‘round Rockstar!” She chirped, nearly skipping her way back to the counter. With a fist bump to Nino, he rattled off the orders that needed swirls, and the designer set to work with the same determination she had when designing for the rest of her shift.

“One caramel macchiato swirl for Rose!”

“Thanks Marinette! Oh hey, I didn’t know Juleka’s brother played here.”

“Wait, brother?”

“No way dudette, you didn’t know my roomie is Juleka’s older brother? And here I thought you knew your blue-eyed prince.”

“Juleka! Oh my gosh that’s so cute! Isn’t it?! Juleka!” Rose squealed, latching onto her girlfriend’s arm and shaking the taller girl a bit.

“That’s my brother, gross.” Came the dry reply.

“I mean if it bothers you I can back off. I don’t even know his name…” Marinette backtracked, not wanting her friend to feel awkward.

“It’s fine, just no details. I haven’t seen him in his birthday suit since we were young and took baths together.”

“Oh my God! Juleka!” For the second time that day Marinette lit up bright red, this time collapsing onto the counter and shielding herself with her arms.

“It’ll be okay dudette, when you remember to ask his name at least.”

“It’s not my fault! We get to talking and he doesn’t seem to mind my crazy runaway brain and lets me figure out my words but, like, not in a rude way. Then I get distracted by his eyes oh my God those should be illegal. And he’s just so nice and funny and talented. By the way, you didn’t tell me you told him about me fixing your hoodie!”

“Hey he’s my roomie and he asked if I got a new one. I told him the truth because you’re awesome.” The DJ shrugged with a grin.

“That’s Luka’s jacket.” Rose gasped, pointing at the leather jacket she was wearing.

“Yeah he let me borrow it, can you give it back to him for me?” Marinette passed over the jacket to Juleka who took it with an odd look on her face but remained silent.

The lack of music drew their attention to the small stage where Luka waved and then started playing a Jagged song, tossing a wink at the ravenette. Marinette flushed again, ignoring the coos from Rose and playful elbow from Nino.

“Huh. he usually hates playing Jagged’s music…”

“Really? I mentioned I liked his music but I wouldn’t have asked if I had known.”

“Go figure.” With that mysterious comment, Juleka shoved the jacket back at Marinette and pushed her towards her brother who finished up the song.

“Hey there Sprinkles.”

“Hey Rockstar, I think this is yours.” Marinette handed over the leather jacket with a shy grin.

“You know out of all the times I’ve played here the last couple of months, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me by my name.”

“Well, that uh might be because I don’t know it? And Nino teases me all the time calling you my 'blue-eyed prince because I get distracted by your blue eyes, they should be illegal. And you’re so nice when I’m having a bad day or just a busy day, you always smile and listen to me and don’t make me feel stupid for getting words mixed or rambling like I’m doing right now and oh my God!” She wished a hole would appear so she could sink into it.

“Well your eyes are pretty amazing too, they’ve kept me up on more than one night trying to find the music to describe them.” Her eyes met his, a soft smile present on his face, “And since I was too distracted by the pretty coffee girl to give my name, I guess I should fix that. I’m Luka, nice to finally introduce myself.”

“Hi, Luka.” Marinette smiled, the blush dying down to a pinkish color and not a full red.

“So uh would you like something to eat? I’m sure you’re tired of coffee…” Luka packed up his guitar, taking the jacket and putting it over her shoulders.

“Sure but let’s go somewhere else, the best pastries in all of Paris.”

“Wait, if you’re going where I think you’re going you had better bring me back something! I’ve got another hour left!” Nino shouted, amusing the customer he was supposed to be taking the order of.

“Maman won’t mind another mouth to feed if you just want to come over for dinner. I think it’s dumpling night?”

“Marinette you are my best friend! Sorry bro, you’ll understand when you taste the food.” The DJ joked before focusing back on the order he was punching in.

“Did I just get invited to dinner?”

“Yeah but that’s okay, you’ll have to meet my parents at some point. Juleka and Rose are already like their adopted daughters.”

“Oh! Maman Sabine dumplings?! I’m in!” Rose jumped on her toes excitedly, tugging Juleka along to follow the budding couple.

“I’ll text Maman and let her know we need to break out the other chairs and let Papa know we need another batch of macarons and eclairs.”

#lbscexchange2021 #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #fen's plunny corner #lovebugs and snake charmers #bevvydraws #fluff

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melisusthewee · 3 years ago

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WIP Wednesday - Let’s Talk Music

Thank you to @cleverblackcat @kittynomsdeplume @noire-pandora and @morganlefaye79 for tagging me!

I don’t have any writing to really offer today. I’ve been trying to work on that Haven fic but unfortunately Aloysius hasn’t been co-operating with me despite all my best efforts to make him speak. I may take a break from writing and pivot towards completing some art memes, but Wednesday just sort of crept up on me and here we are. So instead, I’m sharing something that both is but also isn’t a work in progress?

It’s “in progress” because while I’m happy with where it currently is, I’ve said that about playlists and soundtracks before and later changed them. I’ve worked hard on this and talked several friends’ ears off about songs I’ve heard or artists that seemed to work and thanks to their feedback I think this is a really good one. It’s gone through several edits as well, and may potentially even go through more down the road. So I’m saying this counts for today.

If you give it a listen (and I hope you do because I’m very proud of it so far), I hope you enjoy it and maybe discover an artist you didn’t know before. It clocks in at around 51 minutes and features 13 tracks which span Quinn Trevelyan’s story and important events of the main game through to Trespasser.

If you are interested, below the cut is a list of tracks and a brief blurb or description about who or what they’re meant to represent. I was going to go into things in more depth and talk about how I built it, why I picked the songs I did, and the B-Sides that were left on the cutting room floor, but after realizing I had written nearly 4 pages about just as many songs, I realized it was too much for anyone to read. So below is just a very brief summary and I think that most of the music would speak for itself, but I’m happy to expand more on anything that anyone finds either interesting… or confusing. (There is also Solas content because I knew a few of you love that.)

You have to click on this sentence to go to the playlist because Tumblr’s coding for “Read More” seems to be conflicting with the HTML code to embed a functional playlist. Because of course it is.

Quinn’s tarot card is the Wheel of Fortune as his story is a series of unpredictable highs and lows. What the Maker giveth, He also taketh away. The playlist follows that trend of highs and lows with upbeat songs followed by darker or more mellow ones. Whenever I create a playlist, I try to think of a general tone or sound that I want to be carried through the soundtrack. I want the overall genre or sound to tell the story as much as the individual songs. Because of that, you’ll see artists repeat a couple of times, and when they do it’s always intentional. You’ll also notice that most of the vocalists are male. This was again intentional because this is Quinn’s story, and he’s a man. They are his songs and I wanted the vocals to reflect that.

The Cult of Dionysus - pre-Conclave Quinn

Quinn at his most basic and stereotypical before any character development happens whatsoever - poppish, upbeat, and maybe just a little obnoxious. He smokes, he drinks, he fucks, and nothing else matters.

The Sound of Silence - Aloysius’ Theme

I like Aloysius as a more practical view and examination of Quinn and the cult that grows around him. He affords an opportunity to look at Quinn both as the Herald but also as just a person. He is stoic and mild-mannered, a dutiful soldier, and an excellent foil for Quinn. This is also absolutely a reference to an Arrested Development joke.

Isle of Dogs - Quinn’s true theme

Quinn is a walking disaster constantly falling victim to his own hubris. There’s a morose sort of resentment to the lyrics, of someone who is constantly struggling against the tide. In a lot of ways, this is basically a reaction or push back to all the crap I have put him through.

Providence - “In Hushed Whispers”

There are no Templars here. The first few lines relate a lot to the dismissal the fledgling Inquisition receives from what remains of the Chantry, but the rest of the lyrics are very much about the mages and Fiona’s dealings with the Venatori.

Seven Devils - “In Your Heart Shall Burn

No male vocals in this one to symbolize the change in perspective. This is both a bit of an easy and obvious choice for this story beat. Female vocals for Corypheus might seem strange, but when I created my Warden’s soundtrack I tended to use powerful choruses and female vocals for anything related to Blight, Archdemons, or the darkspawn. I carried that idea over to this as Corypheus is one of the seven Magisters.

Caesar - becoming the Inquisitor

This is a softer and quiet interlude in the wake of the loss of Haven and struggle through the snow. If the previous song marks the end of the first act, this song marks the beginning of the second.

King - “Here Lies the Abyss”

In my written world state, Alistair is both the king and the Grey Warden contact (this goes back to that longform fic I am working on). I suppose it’s a bit unfair because in the end that has a major impact on why Quinn makes the decision he does at Adamant (a rather threatening letter from the Warden helps too). Think of this as a duet between Quinn and Hawke.

My Type - the love interest

“Here Lies the Abyss” was completed first, then a romance triggered, then “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts”. This is that sort of inbetween interlude and is very much inspired by how I may have flirted with multiple characters a little too much and basically triggered several romances at once. I also went into Quinn’s playthrough having no idea who I was going to romance and just let him shop around. And it came down to a coin flip in the end, so “you have a pulse and you are breathing” is pretty much the only standards he has.

Boheme Supreme - party at Halamshiral

All I have to say is that I love techno swing, every single lyric in this song is perfect, and I want you all to picture Quinn Trevelyan walking into the Winter Palace with his Inner Circle entourage around him, dressed up in that outfit I drew with that peacock feathered cap and having a drink in his hand throughout the entire night’s affair.

Hell’s Coming With Me - “Doom Upon All the World”

This is the climax of the main game, the rematch between Quinn and Corypheus which I have to imagine is more impressive in concept than it was in game. I chose the dialogue option when Corypheus calls Quinn an imposter, “I am the Maker’s chosen” as his final challenge. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that this main is actually very Andrastian. But he is, and the lyrics, “I am the righteous hand of God/And I am the Devil that you forgot/And I told you one day will see/I’ll be back I guarantee/And that Hell’s coming with me” are the perfect declaration.

Paradise - Jaws of Hakkon & The Descent

Another interlude song. If the previous one is triumphant than this one is the beginning of a bad turn. In the interim between the events of the main game and the Exalted Council, things begin to go wrong in little ways. His relationship with Cassandra begins to break down, eventually ending in the two of them having frequent spats and going their separate ways after returning from the Frostback Basin. This song is deceptively sarcastic about how good things are.

I Still Love You, Judas - Solas’ Betrayal

Solas… oh, Solas. Does this song indicate a very complicated and layered relationship between Quinn and Solas? Yes! Have I attempted to unpack any of this? Nope! Have fun with this one!

Tagging for this week: @kita-lavellan @silvanils @nivenor-krosis @drag-on-age @rosella-writes @inquisitoracorn

Battle Cries - Quinn and Cassandra

I saved this one for the very end because it is a story within a story. It is sad and bittersweet, but also not. This entire thing feels to me like a duet between Quinn and Cass on what was good, what could never last, and that it’s all over now but that’s okay. Because “this isn’t a breakup, dear heart, it’s a season finale.” Does this mean that Quinn sounds like Joey Batey when he sings? Sure, why not.

#wip wednesday #oc: quinn trevelyan

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the-currian · 4 years ago

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Finally emptied my askbox!

Well, to be more accurate, I finished all my requests. The askbox ate the original ask, so shoutout to the anon who wanted Hisoka angst!

“I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Hisoka x Reader

It was insidious.

At first your curiosity was small. Harmless. When you heard the up-and-coming Mankai Company was having an act-off against the famed God Troupe, you knew that you had to catch both their performances. God Troupe’s performance was flashy and impactful as always, and while the leads of Mankai had a subtle flair of their own, it was one of their supporting cast members that truly caught your eye. You were captivated by his unique stage presence. He appeared confident and secure in his acting but underneath it all you could sense a hint of sadness that drew you in further.

To your shock and utter delight, he plays one of the leads in his sub-troupe’s next play.

“Hisoka…” you whisper to yourself as you trace the actor’s name on the flyer you received.

His gaze pierced straight through your heart, leading you to make an impulsive decision. Quickly scrounging up what leftover funds you had for the month, you resolve to attend all of their performances.

Watching Hisoka act night after night onstage makes your heart bleed for this man that you hadn’t even officially met. Again, you resonate with the melancholic aura that he gives off. It’s silly, really – the most interaction you’ve had with him was at the end of each play when the actors went to the lobby to personally thank and see their patrons off, yet there was just something so hauntingly beautiful about the man, and before you knew it you were drawn in deep.

You wanted to know more.

Days pass after the play’s closing night and you feel as if you’re in a drought – deprived of your favorite muse.

‘Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I should just keep this admiration as a fan, after all.’

Trying to lift up your spirits, you visit a newly opened cat café. As you walk through the doors, a paw-shaped bell gently chimes and a smile blooms on your face. Immediately, you are comforted by the mellow atmosphere that the establishment exudes. While you take your time to observe the café, a white Japanese bobtail cat walks up to you and gently nuzzles your leg, trying to grab your attention. You slowly squat down to pet the feline and it purrs at your touch.

“Welcome.” a familiar voice greets you sleepily.

Looking up, you yelp in surprise and fall onto your bum at the realization that the worker in front of you is Hisoka. Unperturbed, the fluffy cat you were petting moves over to plop down into your lap.

“Marshmallow.” Hisoka chides lightly, picking up the fur ball and cradling it in his arms. “You’re not supposed to play with the customers until they’ve gotten a table.”

The cat mewls lowly in response, and your heartbeat quickens at the affectionate smile that spreads on Hisoka’s face.

“I’m surprised that Marshmallow has taken a liking to you so easily.” He mumbles, shooting you a curious glance. “Anyway, please follow me to sign a waiver for playing with the cats.”

You quickly read through the document and sign the paper without fuss. Hisoka looks over it and nods before leading you to a table low enough for you to interact with the cats but still kneel comfortably.

Somehow, amidst your internal freak-out, you manage to address Hisoka, “Do you have any recommendations?”

His eyes immediately light up and you find his giddiness to be infectious as he lists several suggestions. “The hot chocolate with marshmallow crème is good. So is the s’mores cupcake – they put a giant toasted marshmallow on top. Oh, but the chocolate marshmallow mousse is also one of our best-sellers…”

You stifle a laugh and scratch the ears of the fluffy white cat in your lap. “I take it that you’re the one that named Marshmallow, then?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I get carried away again? The manager says I need to work on that. Something about how not all people would want to eat marshmallows when they’re here, which is ridiculous.” Hisoka mutters the last sentence under his breath, but you still manage to catch what he says and find it quite endearing paired with the pout on his face.

“It’s fine. Those all sound amazing, and I’m going to be here awhile, so I’ll have those three that you mentioned.” You say with what you hope is a reassuring smile.

“Okay. I’ll be back with your marshmallows soon.” He quirks a shy smile before heading back to the kitchen with your order.

Once he’s out of sight you let out a huge sigh, grabbing at your chest, willing your heartbeat to slow down. As if sensing your distress, Marshmallow meows loudly and rubs his head against your hand.

“Alright, alright.” You murmur in a placating tone and obligingly scratch behind Marshmallow’s ears. He makes a satisfied chirping noise in response. Minutes pass by as you absentmindedly pet the cat while you take in the café’s ambience.

Hisoka returns with a serving tray full of marshmallow treats as promised, and your mouth waters as he sets them on the table. You turn your gaze away from the table to thank Hisoka but find that he is also transfixed on your food. A pout appears on his face and the gaze in his eyes as he regards the marshmallows is almost longing.

Mustering up your courage, you ask, “Um… would you like to join me? I kinda just realized that this is way too much for me to finish by myself…”

Hisoka’s gaze locks onto yours, his expression the liveliest you’ve ever seen off stage. “You sure?”

Brain short-circuiting over how adorable he looks, you only barely manage to nod back.

“Hold on.” Hisoka says, rushing off to the kitchen with an unnatural speed. Before you can really process the interaction, he’s already back at your table and kneeling opposite from you. “My manager said I can take a break for a short while since there’s not too many customers right now. Thanks for sharing your marshmallows…” he trails off. Realizing you forgot to introduce yourself, you immediately do so.

He softly smiles in return. “My name is Hisoka Mikage.”

“Ah, I have to confess that I already knew that.” You laugh nervously. His eyes narrow at you in suspicion, and you honestly don’t blame him. However, the dangerous aura he suddenly exudes has you recoiling a bit. “I, uh… I’ve seen you act before in the Mankai Company.”

His demeanor relaxes ever so slightly at your explanation, but you can tell he’s still on edge.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I’m a big fan of your acting and I can’t really believe that I’m seeing you outside of your show runs.”

Still, Hisoka remains silent, staring at you coolly from across the table. Wordlessly, you slide over the chocolate marshmallow mousse to his side as a sort of placating gesture. Hisoka’s eyes narrow even further, squinting at the dessert as if it had personally offended him.

“Is this a bribe?

“…Is it working?”

Hisoka puts a spoonful of the mousse into his mouth and hums thoughtfully as he takes his time to savor the flavor. Seconds pass agonizingly slow before he simply nods at you.

“Apology accepted.”

You feel as if a huge weight is lifted off of your shoulders.

From that day forward you get to know more about Hisoka Mikage, rather than Hisoka the Winter Troupe member of Mankai Company who you so ardently idolized.

And so what if you still idolized him for that? It’s not like it took away from the real affection you had for him as a friend.

‘Only as a friend.’ You think to yourself glumly.

You were thankful for his friendship, really. After that day you two officially met, you frequented the café quite often. In return, Hisoka would set aside his break time for whenever you stopped by. Your relationship had gotten close enough that he felt comfortable resting his head in your lap. You always teased him for this, calling him a “cuddle monster that can only be satiated by naps and marshmallows”. Hisoka has no qualms with this and completely accepts his role.

However, despite the progress you’ve made, you could sense that there’s a barrier he always had up. You could tell that he was trying but there were times that Hisoka would get a faraway look in his eyes as the two of you lazed about. It was during these moments that you felt so close but still so far from him.

One day, he decides that the two of you should hang out at a beach – which is frankly quite ridiculous given the season. Within the first few minutes of arriving, Hisoka remains silent, so you decide to tell him as such.

“So… what’s the reason for taking to me to the beach on this cold winter day?” you joke, trying to lighten the heavy aura Hisoka exudes.

His eyes suddenly snap over to yours as if broken out of a reverie. Just as you’re about to let it be – Hisoka gets into these moods at times, after all – he replies.

“This beach is a place I’ve only shared with my troupe members; it’s a significant place to who I was – to who I am. You’ve become an…” he pauses, mulling over his words carefully. “…important person to me. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you that makes me feel safe. But–“

Filled with a surge of affection at his words, you blurt out, “Would you like to maybe make this official?”

Hisoka stares at you incomprehensively.

‘Hell, I’ve gotten this far already.’ You think to yourself, thoroughly embarrassed, but determined. ‘I may as well let it all out.’

“I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong, but this has been on my mind for a long while. Ever since we met at the café – maybe even long before that, when I first saw your acting,” You give him a watery smile. “I was so intrigued by you. I always felt like there was something that just drew me to you. You can’t believe how ecstatic I was that we were able to become friends. But lately, it just hasn’t been enough for me. I’m sorry. I’ve fallen for you.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, scared to see his reaction.

“I love you, Hisoka. If you’ll have me, I’d like the chance to make you happy as your friend, but even more so as your partner.”

Seconds tick by, your anxiety skyrocketing in the silence, when Hisoka’s words strike straight through your heart.

“I can’t.”

“…Oh.” Your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes at his rejection. “I see. I totally get it. Don’t worry, you don’t have to be obligated or anything because of my feelings. I’m sorry – “

“Wait.” Hisoka cuts you off then makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not you, I promise.” He grabs your arm causing you to freeze in place, preventing you from making your escape. “It’s not fair to you. I know it isn’t, but…”

“But?” you prompt.

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” Hisoka mumbles, head bowed low, unable to look you in the eye. “…and it kills me.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“There are things that I’m still trying to figure out for myself – things I’m still trying to figure about myself. To drag you into it would be selfish of me. You don’t deserve that.”

“And if I said I didn’t care?” you sob. “What if I told you that I want to help you through it?”

Hisoka makes a pained expression at your words, letting go of your arm as if he was burned. He returns back to his shell that you so desperately tried to pull him out of. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. This is my burden to bear… I’m sorry.”

And just like that, he walks away.

The next day you go to the café where you first met. You pet Marshmallow when he comes over to you as you take a seat at your usual spot, but Hisoka never shows up.

#a3!#a3 #a3! fanfic #hisoka mikage #hisoka x reader #a3! hisoka #a3game #a3! scenarios #director make us queue

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cakesunflower · 5 years ago

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Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 20

A/N: so honestly. this story was SUPPOSED to come to an end. like, this was supposed to be the last/second to last chapter and then boom, done! but after writing this chapter and pleading from @irwinkitten & @loveroflrh, and swimming in my own thoughts & falling in love with Aspen, Calum & Luna all over again, i realized this will not be the last chapter. and, if anything, i probably have a few more chaps left in me than previously assumed. so yeah. this story is gonna go on for a little while longer. after reading this chap, you’ll understand why hehe

Chapter 20

ASPEN BOWED HER head, her labored breathing echoing a bit too loudly in the restroom, shaking arms apparently too weak allow her to steadily brace herself against the sink. Her throat was still burning, the taste rancid in her mouth, eyes screwed shut as the shock from throwing up her lunch, and maybe breakfast, subsided. Her stomach lurched and she knew she was in that uncomfortable stage of wanting to throw up more but not actually needing to, and Aspen let out a shaky breath as she rinsed out her mouth, hoping the gum she kept would rid of the smell.

Looking at herself in the mirror, taking in her own dull green eyes and dry lips, Aspen tried to think of why she was suddenly throwing up in one of the bathrooms at the clinic. It had been right in the middle of her eating her lunch, but she knew the leftover spaghetti from last night wasn’t what had her stomach lurching. She wasn’t sick—not that she knew of, anyway. She’d been feeling fine.

Her eyebrows drew together as she peered at her reflection, the porcelain of the sink bitterly cold under her touch. She wasn’t sick. She didn’t have her period. She never got this nauseous during it, either. The only time she could remember throwing up this much was when she was pr—

Aspen’s breath got caught in her throat, eyes widening almost comically as she gaped at her reflection. Holy shit. She wasn’t stupid. She worked at a medical clinic. And she had already gone through this once before to be familiar with the creeping feeling of the world being turned upside down. How the hell had she not realized earlier?

Still, Aspen pulled out her phone, trembling fingers clicking on the tracker app she needed, heart dropping to the pit of her turning stomach when the words 23 days late were shown back to her. She was never late—never this late, at least. Aspen damn near dropped her phone into the sink, a gasp choking her throat as she pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, my God.” Her whispered voice sounded as though she was screaming in the quiet of the bathroom, snapping Aspen out of the overwhelmed, incredulous daze she had found herself in.

She had to think fast.

Pocketing her phone in her scrubs, she quickly exited the bathroom and made her way across the hall towards the supply closet. It was dark inside, but she was familiar with the room to head to the second shelf on the right, third row from the bottom to dig into the box and pull out the pregnancy tests they kept in there. Chewing on her lower lip, Aspen quickly went back to the vacant bathroom, locking the door behind her, ripping open the small package with shaking fingers, pulling down her pants.

And then, after the fact, she waited a few minutes.

She desperately tried not to think of anything. Wanted to keep her mind blank because she was sure she would throw up again if she focused on the situation at hand for too long. Truthfully, Aspen didn’t know what to think—what to feel. If her suspicions were either confirmed or disproven, maybe then she’d know how to appropriately react. For now, there was a ringing in her ears, a flatline of thoughts she denied any attention. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn together. Nothing to think of until there was something to think of.

Her alarm went off. Time was up.

She swallowed the thick, heavy lump that had formed in her throat, inhaling shakily as she took the few steps towards the sink. Her heart was thundering in her chest, echoing in her ears. Was it fear? Dread? Excitement? Aspen wasn’t sure.

But when she looked at the stick resting on the sink, she knew her answer.

*****

Calum hadn’t really thought that a kindergarten graduation was a thing—he didn’t remember having one in his school back when he was five years old. But as silly and goofy as a kindergarten graduation sounded, Calum didn’t care. Because he was utterly content sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the springtime sun mellow above them, watching his adorable little girl in a red cap and gown as she and her class sang a parody version of Can’t Stop This Feeling to fit in with a kindergarten graduating class.

The crowd of parents and families sat laughing, clapping along, taking pictures, with Calum unable to tear his eyes away from where Luna stood singing along with a grin on her face. He hadn’t really understood the concept of kindergarten graduation until he realized Luna would be going into elementary school, which of course led him to think of when she’d eventually get to middle school, then high school, then college. . .

Calum inhaled sharply, shaking those thoughts out of his head. He needed to relax. Luna hadn’t even started first grade yet. There was lots of time.

For a moment, Calum had assumed he was the only overly emotional one, getting teary eyed amidst a bunch of five and six year olds making a Justin Timberlake song their own. But he glanced to his right, took in the sight of Aspen who, while she clapped along with a smile, had glassy green eyes that she couldn’t hide from him.

“Hey,” Calum whispered through a fond, amused chuckle, wrapping his right arm around her to pull her close. Aspen sniffled as Calum rubbed her arm, ducking his head slightly to try and meet her gaze. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aspen assured, swiping a finger under her eye before letting out a gentle laugh. “Just, y’know, proud of Luna.”

Calum laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Aspen’s head, inhaling her familiar shampoo and perfume. Looking back onto the stage, he mused, “Don’t wanna imagine what you’ll be like at her high school graduation.”

Aspen scoffed, letting out a slow breath before sniffling once more and raising her head. Shooting Calum a look, she said, “A mess. I’ll need five glasses of wine beforehand.”

He kept his arm around him, still chuckling as he rubbed at her arm and hummed, “Noted.”

Calum wasn’t oblivious to Aspen’s occasional sniffles, a tissue in her fist as she used it to dab away tears, and he couldn’t help but glance at her curiously. Truthfully, he hadn’t really expected Aspen to get so emotional over this; of course, Calum understood the pride and happiness he felt over his five year old finally moving on from kindergarten to enter elementary school, but he wasn’t anywhere near shedding tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Aspen?” he couldn’t help but ask once again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she brushed him off, offering a smile he wasn’t sure he believed. “Just, y’know, probably about to get my period,” she added with a gentle chuckle before looking ahead once more. He shot her a disbelieving look, and Aspen responded by merely keeping her gaze ahead and reaching her hand up to grasp Calum’s chin to turn his head forward as well.

The ceremony ended with cheers and smiles and lots of pictures taken, Calum’s heart threatening to burst out of his chest as Luna ran up to him and Aspen with a colorful kindergarten diploma in her hand, showing it off proudly. Because she knew it was a big deal and they rightfully treated it as such. They took tons of photographs, FaceTimed Aspen’s mother right away so Luna could show her the certificate and Jodie, who had joined them, took many photos of Calum and Aspen with their little girl, and of Luna with her friends.

Calum hadn’t failed to notice the distance Aspen kept with Bailey Clarkson, not so much as glancing at the other mom’s way as all of her focus remained on Luna. Which he was glad for; the last thing anyone needed was Aspen throwing a well deserved punch to Mrs. Clarkson’s jaw. Though, Calum knew he’d only hold back his girlfriend after the fact—and reluctantly so, at that.

“So no school for two months, bug!” Calum grinned at his daughter, glancing at her from the rearview mirror after they dropped Jodie off once the ceremony was finished. “What’s your plan for the summer?”

Luna grinned, hands in her lap and endearingly bringing her shoulders up as she drawled, “I don’t know.” Then she sat up, green eyes bright as she gasped in that childish, dramatic way and said, “Natalia’s parents are taking her to Disney World! Can we go there?”

Calum chuckled as he made a right turn, not entirely surprised by Luna’s request. Going to Disney World was practically every little kid’s wish, wasn’t it? “I think we can look into that,” Calum hummed, grinning at Luna’s excited cheer, glancing at Aspen as he asked, “What do you think, Mama?”

He had to return his gaze to the road ahead, but Calum still glanced at Aspen quickly, a couple of times in a span of a few seconds, eyebrows raising at her silence. She was chewing on her nail, staring out the window as they drove by buildings, lost in thoughts Calum wanted to be in on. Especially if they were worrying her—he could see it in the subtle furrow of her eyebrows, bringing forth a tense crease on her forehead. Something was occupying her thoughts, enough to throw her into a distracted silence, and it only increased Calum’s curiosity.

“Aspen?” he tried, left hand on the wheel and right reaching over to comfortingly rest on her thigh. “Come back, love.”

“Hmm?” She finally looked at him, eyebrows high up on her forehead before letting out a breath and giving a shake of her head. “Sorry, sorry.” Turning in her seat and grinning at Luna, Aspen mused, “Disney World, huh?”

Luna nodded as Calum stopped the car at a red light, turning to look at Aspen. She was fully engaging into a conversation with Luna, chatting about all the princesses and Disney characters Luna wanted to meet, completely disregarding her spaced out moment earlier. Maybe Calum was reading too into it, and she looked fine now, happily indulging Luna, so he bit the inside of his cheek and let it go. If something was wrong, Calum knew Aspen would tell him. That’s how they worked. That’s why they worked. If there was a pressing matter, Calum trusted Aspen to let him know.

They got back to the building and as they got off the elevator and Luna skipped ahead, Calum draped his arm around Aspen’s shoulders and, despite his decision in the car to let it go, couldn’t help but ask, “You good?”

Her own arm loosely wrapped around his waist as they walked, humming reassuringly as she looked up at him to meet his gaze. Her green eyes were light, absent of any heaviness that Calum had expected to see, the smile on her face genuine. “Yeah, great,” Aspen responded with a breezy laugh, hand rubbing at his back.

Calum watched her for a moment, trying to detect a lie she somehow would’ve become an expert at hiding, feeling guilty when he didn’t find any and for doubting her. So Calum pressed a kiss to her temple as they reached Luna, bouncing in front of the door as she waited for them and Calum used the key to the apartment that was permanently his to unlock to door. They entered and were greeted by Duke, his paws familiarly clattering, as Aspen sat down on the arm rest of the couch to bend down at unclasp her sandals.

She stood once doing so, taking a breath and saying to their daughter, “Hey, Lunes, let’s get that dress off before dinner.”

Luna nodded and followed Aspen into her bedroom as Calum placed his own shoes next to Aspen’s by the door, socks sliding on the floorboards as he approached the couch and collapsed on top. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, Calum checked the messages on his phone, reading over the texts he’d received from friends and family congratulating Luna. He responded to them all, chuckled at the texts from the boys in the group chat losing it over the short clips Calum had sent of the kids singing on stage, zoomed in on Luna.

He spent a couple of minutes responding to texts, until the sound of Luna’s running footsteps reached his ears, as did her voice as she called excitedly, “Daddy! Look at the new shirt Mama got me! Look!”

“Show me, bug,” Calum laughed, sitting up as he lifted his gaze when he sensed Luna in front of him, almost immediately choking on his laugh when his expectant gaze took in the words written on Luna’s shirt.

Promoted to Big Sister!

There was moment that Calum was completely sure that his heart had stopped, reading over the four mundane words strung together to create a phrase that meant fucking everything a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t somehow imagining them. Was it possible to feel every bone in your body to tremble from shock, excitement? Calum’s eyes were quickly drying out, too wide as he read Luna’s shirt over and over again, deeply feeling the quiver of his lower lip as he took in a sharp, audibly shaky breath to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

Big sister.

Heart pounding, Calum looked from Luna’s grinning face as she held the bottom of the shirt in her hands, straightening the words out proudly, to where Aspen stood a few feet behind the five year old. Calum’s throat had gone dry, blinking quickly to rid of the cold dryness in his eyes, aware that his breathing was labored as he took in his girlfriend’s expression.

Aspen chewed on her lower lip, though unable to keep a smile, albeit nervous, away as she wrung her fingers together and awaited his reaction. Because right now, all Calum was doing was gaping at her, bewildered and incredulous and absolutely fucking floored, all too aware of every cell in his body vibrating in unadulterated excitement. His mind was running a mile a minute, unable to grasp a single thought and focus on it, before he took another glance at Luna’s shirt and felt the gasp rip through his throat.

Finally, Calum stumbled to his feet on weak knees, wide brown eyes on expectant and nervous green, and all Calum was capable of whispering was a dumbfounded, “What?”

He stammered a bit, hilariously feeling completely out of his element as one hand cupped Luna’s cheek as he stood over her, aware of her brilliant grin beaming up at him as his throat worked, looking at Aspen for a verbal confirmation. Maybe then the feeling in his muscles would return.

Calum was acutely aware of the wild drumming of his heart, the buzz within his veins erratic as Aspen parted her lips. And just as she breathed out, “I’m pregnant,” Luna had taken the opportunity to yell, “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

Yeah. Yeah, that was all it took. Because once both of his favorite girls delivered some of the best news Calum could possibly hear, he was scooping Luna up with one arm and striding over to Aspen, pulling them in for a hug that couldn’t possibly convey the full capacity of happiness Calum felt in that moment.

He was sure Aspen could hear the pounding of his heart, but Calum didn’t care as he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face to Aspen’s hair. The floral scent of her shampoo was brilliant as Calum breathed out a dazed, “Oh, my God,” before finally the dryness of his eyes let up and the thrilled tears that had almost immediately gathered upon confirmation freely fell from his eyes. “Oh, my God.”

It was a cliche, expectant response but for now, that was all Calum could utter as he clung to both Aspen and Luna, the five year old giggling excitedly as Aspen laughed against Calum’s chest. He could hear her own tears as her arms wrapped around him, her hug just as tight, and Calum had to remember to breathe as the excitement and disbelief threatened to deprive his lungs of air. Calum could count his purest, happiest moments in one hand—most of which, when he truly thought about it, consisted of his two girls—and this just made the top of the list. Until the anticipated moment arrived. Until the baby arrived.

“Oh—oh, man,” Calum pulled back slightly with a teary eyed, breathless chuckle as he cupped Aspen’s own wet cheek with one hand, adoring the way Luna’s smaller hand pushed back some of Aspen’s dark hair away from her face. “We’re—we’re gonna have a baby.”

Aspen’s green eyes were filled with elated tears, an image Calum probably mirrored, her cheeks flushed and smile looking its happiest. She looked beautiful. “Yeah,” she replied with a sniffle, her own voice a whisper as her gaze flickered between him and Luna. “Gonna be a family of five.”

Duke included, of course. Calum laughed; a bright, hearty, genuine laugh that carried his excitement, happiness, and disbelief together. He was still in shock, he knew, but he mostly focused on the giddiness that fluttered in his stomach and had his heart racing. Fuck. Holy fucking shit. No wonder he thought she was acting differently today. She’d been waiting to tell him about this. And what a fucking thing to tell.

Calum let out a slow breath, laughter softening as he wiped at his face, licking his lips as he grinned at his favorite girls. They would eventually be joined by another. “We’re gonna need a bigger place.”

*****

“Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?” Calum hummed, all too focused on drawing nonsensical patterns on Aspen’s still flat stomach. They were laying in bed, hours later after a celebratory dinner—times two—and putting Luna to bed. Aspen had giggled and teased Calum as he lifted her shirt once she’d laid down, wanting nothing more than to use her breasts as pillows as he did so often while tracing his finger on the bare skin of her stomach. Her own fingers were weaving through his hair, playing with the dark strands in the way that relaxed him.

Aspen chuckled lightly at his obliviousness. “If it’s a boy or a girl,” she clarified.

The smile that tugged at Calum’s lips was instant at the mere mention of the baby, probably the size of his pinky nail—maybe smaller. But he didn’t care. That was his kid in there. “So long as it’s healthy, no,” Calum answered, ears picking up on the quiet and disbelieving scoff that Aspen released. Grin widening, he turned his head to look up at her just enough to say, “But a boy—you and Luna have too much fun outmatching me.”

Aspen tilted her head back against the pillow propped behind her as she laughed, knowing his words to be all too true. Calum turned his attention back to her stomach, grin widening as he thought of the appointment Aspen told him she had scheduled for tomorrow. The excitement in his chest, Calum knew, wouldn’t be dying down anytime soon, and the thought of being with Aspen in that room, watching as the doctor showed them the first image of their baby developing—it took his breath away. He would be both embarrassed and not at all surprised if he actually passed out as soon as he saw the black and white image of the screen.

And as he continued to absentmindedly trace patterns, Calum couldn’t help but think that although this was his second child, this would be his first time being an expectant dad-to-be. This time around, he would be there from the very start of the kid’s life and although Calum would always be upset that he missed these moments with Luna, he would be sure to cherish every bit of the next nine months, and every single year after that as much as he was capable of. This was his second chance, and Calum was ready to embrace it with open arms. Thinking about all of which was to come had him chewing on his lower lip, eyes closing as he took in a deep breath that immediately caught Aspen’s attention.

“You okay?” she asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Calum cleared his throat. He was alright. He was just. . . Emotional. So he sat up, causing Aspen to drop her hand from his hair as he sat cross legged by her outstretched legs, licking his lips as his brown eyes gaze met her pretty green. Aspen sat up as well, a slight furrow in her eyebrows, ready to listen as Calum shot her a warm smile to reassure her. “It’s just—this is your second time doing this and I’m—I’ve never been here before, y’know? And it’s dumb that I know how to be a dad but I don’t. . .” He paused, feeling foolish with his words, but Aspen watched him with those encouraging eyes and Calum didn’t feel like an idiot as he finished with a breathless and short chuckle, “I don’t know how to be a dad-t0-be.”

“Cal, no, it doesn’t,” Aspen was quick to assure, smiling that pretty smile of hers that somehow always made him feel like everything was okay. She also crossed her legs, hand reaching out to grasp his. “It’s a learning experience which you obviously didn’t get the first time around. Being nervous is normal.”

Calum let out a breath, reveling in the feeling of her hand holding his, eyebrows scrunching up as he told her, “I don’t want you to feel guilty or anyth—”

“Oh, come on, stop with that,” Aspen cut him off with a wave of her free hand. “We promised to stop being sorry and guilty about everything a long time ago, right?” Calum nodded, feeling that bit of weight he hadn’t known was resting on his chest life away. With a smile, she continued, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t still be upset about everything in moments like these. You’re right: you did miss out on this with Luna because of me and your mom. And even though nothing will replace that, at least you know there won’t ever be moments that you’re gonna miss out in the future. Not if I can help it.”

It was crazy, in a familiar way, how effortlessly Aspen could ease any bit of troubles he was having. And it only made Calum think of how far they came to get to the point of where they were today. To be so happy, so close. He never knew a happiness like the one he did with Aspen.

So he cupped her cheek with his free hand, pulling her smiling face close to his as he caught her lips in a kiss they both constantly craved for. It was sweet, long, savoring the taste of each other and their minty toothpaste as their lips moved in practiced, perfected sync. “I love you,” she murmured against him.

His heart jumped every time she said it. He didn’t mind one bit. “I love you, too,” Calum returned, bringing his hands to grasp the back of her thighs to pull her close, prompting Aspen to uncross her legs to wrap them around Calum’s hips as she settled in the seat of his crossed legs.

“You better,” she grinned as he kissed her, her arms wounding around his neck. “Because if this pregnancy is anything like the last, my cravings are gonna be wild.” Aspen pulled back just enough for their gazes to meet, and Calum was quick to pick up on the teasingly wicked look in the green of her irises to match the mischievous grin she wore. “And this time I’ve got my baby daddy at my beck and call.”

Calum snorted, not at all finding fear in her words like she wanted him to. With a smirk, he gave her thighs a squeeze and mused, “I put a baby in you; the least I could do is get you food so you don’t kill me for it.”

Aspen pressed her lips together in a close mouthed smile, chuckling as she nodded and gave him another kiss. “Smart man.”

tags: @irwinkitten @loveroflrh @sweetcherrymike @astroashtonio @softforcal @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @wildflowergrae

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ukulelecal · 5 years ago

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Lingerie

In which Calum meets Frankie for the first time.

Pairing: Calum Hood x OC

Warnings: a very vague mention to smut?

A/N: so this is from the AU that me and maja @rosegoldquintis have going!! here is a post where i kinda explained it (check that out as ashton’s girl is sort of introduced in this!), and here is a blurb that maja wrote about cal and frankie!! this isn’t super long, about 1.7k, but i hope you guys enjoy!!! also, frankie’s face claim is devon carlson :)

The last thing Calum expected was a call from Ashton just as he was settling onto the couch for an afternoon of binging watching true crime documentaries and cuddling with Duke. He loved his best friend to death, but he was certainly looking forward to relaxing after a long week of work.

“Hey, Ash,” he grumbled as he picked up the phone, his voice still thick with sleep considering he had decided to sleep in until noon. “What’s up?”

“You busy?” Ashton asked. “And busy doesn’t mean you plan to do nothing all day.”

Calum huffed. He knew Calum all too well.

“Guess I’m not busy, then.”

“Great. Because Ophelia’s birthday is coming up and I still have one more thing I want to get her, but I don’t feel like going by myself,” he explained. Calum sighed, his body sinking further into the couch. Duke looked at him expectantly, and Calum reached over to pat his head.

“You need my help or something, mate?” He joked, giving his dog more pets as he jumped into his lap. “Are you clueless on what to buy your girlfriend?”

“Fuck off,” Ashton laughed. “I know what I’m getting, I just don’t want to go alone.”

“I mean-”

“I’ll buy lunch if you come,” he interjected before Calum could make up an excuse.

Never one to turn down free food, Calum decided that the lineup of documentaries could wait until night time.

“Fine. Lunch first, then we shop.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

Calum hung up the phone and glanced apologetically at Duke, who was still staring at him as if he was waiting for something.

“Sorry, bud. Ashton’s making me leave the house and put pants on on my day off. Can you believe that?”

Duke barked, and Calum chuckled as he gently lifted him off his lap and set him on the floor.

“I know. Crazy.”

With that, he headed upstairs to actually put clothes on and make himself presentable, and it wasn’t long before he got a text from Ashton announcing that he was there.

After lunch at a local deli, the two headed to the mall, and Ashton seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go. Calum nearly rolled his eyes as he led him into the store.

“Really? Lingerie?”

“It’s what she asked for!” Ashton argued. That was a lie; truth was, he had ripped her nicest set when he was a little too excited to take it off her, and he felt kind of bad about it, so he decided to get her a new one. But, she never directly asked for it.

The music was soft and mellow as they walked inside, the lighting dim, but bright enough to be able to see. It definitely had the vibe of a lingerie store, if the oodles of lacy underwear didn’t give it away already. Calum had never been in there; the store was on the newer side, and he had been single for a while, so he didn’t have anyone to be buying lingerie for.

Calum aimlessly followed Ashton around the store as he browsed, carefully inspecting his options. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while he ran his fingers across the material and checked the prices and sizes. He wanted nothing but the best for Ophelia, and he wasn’t going to settle for anything less.

“How about this one?”

Ashton held up a jet black set for Calum to see, who gave him a pointed look.

“I’m not picking out lingerie for your girl, man,” he stated blankly. Ashton groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I’m just asking if you like it. Do you think it’s nice?”

Calum shrugged. All the sets looked “nice” to him.

“I guess.”

Ashton stared at it for another moment before hanging it back on the rack, grumbling something under his breath about coming back to it. Calum sighed; he knew this was going to be a long shopping trip.

A few minutes later, Ashton held up another, this one a dark wine color.

“This one?”

“I don’t know about her, but I think you’d look pretty sexy in that one, Ash,” Calum teased, a grin spreading across his face. The glare on Ashton’s face only made him laugh, and he dejectedly put the set back.

Calum could have sworn that Ashton looked at every single thing in the store, and he was starting to get bored. Just as he was about to announce that he would wait at the food court, a voice caught their attention.

“Is there anything I can help you two with?”

Calum didn’t miss the way his own heart skipped a beat when his eyes landed on the woman standing in front of them. Her smile was warm and friendly, and she daintily tucked a piece of brown hair behind her ear. She was gorgeous, no doubt, but she also gave off such a kind, refreshing aura among the dark, seductive vibe of the store. A breath of fresh air, Calum thought to himself.

He couldn’t peel his eyes away.

“I’m just looking for some lingerie to get my girlfriend for her birthday,” Ashton said, reminding Calum that she had asked a question. “There’s just so many options.”

The woman giggled, and Calum’s knees nearly buckled.

“Yeah, it can get overwhelming trying to pick unless you know exactly what you want, but I can try to make it a little easier. What color do you think she would like?” The woman stepped closer to Ashton to help him, Calum’s eyes subtly following.

“I think she looks good in any color,” Ashton chuckled, shaking his head. “But her favorite color is red.”

“I’ll give you a bit of advice. Don’t only think about what you think she’ll look good in. Try to think about what you think she’ll feel good in. What will make her feel confident, you know? Confidence is much sexier than lingerie.”

Calum couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. She seemed so sweet and genuine, and he found himself wanting to get to know her better. She was endearing, her smile and soft demeanor drawing Calum in, and he got a whiff of her flowery perfume when she was close.

After she left Ashton to decide between a couple sets, she turned to Calum, and he had to act like he hadn’t been staring.

“How about you? Need any help?” She offered, her smile never leaving her face. He let his own take over his features naturally as he shook his head.

“No, I’m not here to get anything.” He cocked his head towards Ashton. “I was promised lunch if I came with him.”

She giggled again, and Calum found himself chuckling as well. It was contagious, and Calum found that adorable.

“Well, I always say free food is a good reason to go anywhere.” She fixed her hair again, pastel pink nails a contrast against her dark hair. “My name's Frankie. Let me know if you guys need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Frankie.”

He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

He watched her walk away, but it was short lived as Ashton tapped him on the shoulder.

“I can’t decide, so I’ll just get her both. I’m gonna go pay.”

Calum followed him to the register, and another smile found its way to his face when he saw Frankie was behind the counter.

“Couldn’t pick?” She asked sweetly as Ashton handed her the two sets. He shook his head.

“No, I’m sure she’ll love both, so she can have both.” There was also a good chance that he would rip one again so it was good to have another, but he didn’t say that.

Frankie’s eyes trailed up to meet Calum’s as she rang up the lingerie, and he shot her a sweet smile. A slight blush creeped onto her pale cheeks as she looked back down at the register, a sheepish grin on her pink lips.

Calum’s heart fluttered just looking at her.

She carefully folded the lingerie and placed it in a bag that she handed over to Ashton after he paid.

“Have a great day,” she mumbled. She glanced at Ashton only for a moment before her gaze averted to Calum. He nodded his head, and both men returned the sentiment before they started to head to the door. Calum could feel eyes on him as he walked, and he knew exactly who it was.

Just as they were about to leave, Calum stopped himself short. He couldn’t leave quite yet.

“Hang on one second, Ash,” he grumbled, turning around and heading back towards the register to Frankie.

“Hi,” he greeted, leaning one arm against the counter.

“Hey,” she returned sweetly, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him. She knew he’d come back, and she had been hoping he would. He was beyond hot, and his deep voice made her melt in her spot.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” He offered, knowing he couldn’t let this chance slip away. She nodded quickly before reaching around to grab one of the store’s business cards from the front of the register and scribbling something on it. He found her phone number written on the back when she handed it to him.

“I would love to…” she trailed off, and he got the idea.

“Calum.”

“Calum,” she repeated, her eyes meeting his. “Text me, yeah?”

“Of course.” He slipped the card safely into the pocket of his jeans. “I’ll see you later, Frankie.”

He met a smirking Ashton back at the door, and the two of them started to make their way back to the car.

“Hitting on the lingerie girl, huh, Cal?” Ashton teased, nudging his shoulder. Calum grinned and playfully shook his head.

“You met Ophelia while she was working at the bookstore, Ash, you’re not one to talk.”

“Guess not. But, hey, good for you! You’ve been single for the longest time. It’s good that you’re getting back out there.”

Calum hadn’t had much interest in love or dating when his last relationship ended, but Frankie seemed different. She stood out. She was the complete opposite of him, with her pastel colors and gentle manner, but that was a part of what drew Calum to her. She was the bit of light he needed in his life, and he was excited to see where they would go.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum hood #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer au #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos au #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood au #calum hood smut #michael clifford #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #genny writes

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raywritesthings · 5 years ago

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Death and Taxes

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Eleventh Doctor, River Song, Clara Oswald, Kate Stewart Pairing: Eleventh Doctor/River Song Summary: River wants a house now that she's out of prison, and the Doctor must embark on the dreaded task of personal finance. / Canon Compliant *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

He took Professor Song to see the premiere of the Galactic Federation Symphony. The musicians consisted of Draconians, Alpha Centaurians, and humans, with an Ice Warrior serving as conductor. It was a pleasant evening, music and champagne — the latter of which he did not partake in, content to watch his wife sip at her flute with a smile curving her lips. Much better than the first time they’d met after Manhattan. Even so, they carefully danced around the subject of his travels or companions. It hardly mattered; Clara was home with the children again, so he may as well have been alone.

“So then, back to the Luna University? Or perhaps dancing under the Karaveen Nebula? The night is still young,” the Doctor remarked as he led them arm in arm back through the TARDIS doors.

“Actually, Doctor, I’ve got a matter of business to discuss with you,” River countered in a way that surprisingly enough did not at all sound like an innuendo, and he was getting rather good at picking those up from her.

“Oh?”

She slipped her hand into his, and they walked past the console, up into the corridor and through a door which today led into his study. He perched himself on the corner of his desk, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankle.

“Well, Professor Song, what can I do for you?”

She smirked. “I was hoping you'd ask.” Then she pulled out a stack of paper and files far too large to have fit in an ordinary clutch and set them down just to the right of him with a very heavy thud.

The Doctor blinked. “What’s this?”

“It's what I need you to do for me,” she answered. “I’m buying a house near the university, and there's a lot that needs filled out as far as mortgage payments and property taxes are concerned. Not to mention the loan I’ve got to take from the bank. You’ll have to co-sign on that, by the way.”

The Doctor, whose lip had been curling in distaste with every word she spoke, looked at her with wide eyes. “Co-sign?”

River gave a well-worn sigh. “Yes, Sweetie. I get a better deal if someone does, and you being my husband makes you the ideal candidate. Joint filing.”

“Taxes?” He echoed numbly, thumbing through the stack once. There were all sorts of official looking titles and tiny boxes and very fine print he would most certainly need Amy's glasses for. The Doctor shook his head. “No. No, I haven’t done taxes in — well, er, come to think of it I’m not sure I’ve ever done them. I won’t start now.”

“And what am I supposed to do then? Sleep in my office?”

“Well, no,” he acknowledged. “Couldn't you just — I mean it's not like you haven't before — couldn't you, ah, find some money somewhere?”

“Oh yes, that’ll go over lovely. Paying off my mortgage with undisclosed income. Then they can arrest me again for tax evasion — that’ll be twenty life sentences at least.” Her unimpressed look morphed into something a little more earnest, a little more beseeching. “I’m only trying to get a life after prison started, Doctor.”

Oh. Well, that just wasn’t fair. There really was no faulting her, was there? After all she'd done for him in saving his life, River Song was just asking for a little aid in getting the next chapter of hers going. The last chapter, of which he could never tell her even as it drew ever nearer.

The Doctor stared. River stared back, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched imperiously.

“So, you’ll bring it round the next time you stop by? Lovely.” Without another word, much less waiting for his response, she turned and swept from the room.

“River. River!”

When after a moment she did not return, the Doctor was forced to half-run to catch her up in the console room, where she was already working the controls.

“River, I am homeless. Stateless. Planetless, even! My estate consists of a Type 40 Time Capsule, and it's stolen property.”

“You think my credit’s much better, honey? I'm an ex-con.” She glanced back at him, curls falling in a wave down her shoulder. It was quite the look. “Seeing as we both know how that happened I shouldn't think it’d be that unreasonable of a request.”

The Doctor’s mouth fell open, but nothing came immediately to mind.

River smirked. “I didn’t think so.” The time rotor pulsed once more, then quieted, about the only indication they’d landed whenever his wife was the one driving. Then she continued down the ramp to the doors.

“You could always stay.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and yet hopeless as he knew it was he carried on. “Keep a vortex manipulator onboard, pop over to the University whenever you felt like teaching, then back here. You’re welcome here.”

You’re wanted here, was what he wished to say.

River had paused in front of the doors, and when she turned around this time she looked pained. “Thank you, Sweetie. But we both know that isn't what we are.”

How could they know without ever having tried it? That, at least, he managed to reign in. She already thought him enough of a sentimental old fool, after all.

“I’ll have to have a look around the place sometime,” he came up with instead. “Seeing as it’ll be half mine.”

“Oh honey, that's a promise,” River replied with a wink, and he dredged up a smile just for her. Then she was out the doors and out of his life once again. The Doctor bowed his head briefly, then reached for the dematerialization lever to head back into the Vortex.

Returning to his desk, the Doctor eyed up the stack that waited for him. To his view, it appeared to tower over everything else, particularly once he’d taken his seat. His Everest. He blew out a breath and took out her mother’s glasses. “Right then. Taxes.” The Doctor shrugged. “How hard can they be, really?”

—-

Taxes, as it turned out, could be very hard.

The forms were printed as tiny as he’d suspected and were twice as tricky. To fill one out, he needed to know something called a credit score. The Doctor did not know what a credit score was, and when he asked Clara her eyes went the biggest he’d ever seen them.

“Why do you want to know something like that?”

“Idle curiosity.”

Clara snorted and turned away. He never actually got an answer.

There was a helpline number in incredibly small print at the bottom of the phone. The Doctor liked helplines. A helpline had directed his new friend into his life. Or back into it. He still didn’t know exactly how he had met Clara twice before without her remembering it.

Nevertheless, the Doctor called the number. There was a funny automated voice someone had tried to make sound like a human but seemingly gave up halfway through, and it listed off a whole lot of options and numbers to press accordingly. The Doctor waited until the end of the list, where it told him that if he stayed on the line a real person might actually talk to him. That was much better.

He was tapping his toes along with a very mellow xylophone playing a repetitive verse for several minutes before the music abruptly cut off.

“This is Keisha with Lunar Revenue, how may I help you this morning?”

The Doctor jumped and nearly fumbled the phone. “Keisha! Ha! Yes, you can help me. I need to know what a credit score is.”

“What a credit score is or what your credit score is, sir?”

“Both, preferably.”

There was a pause.

“Uh, well, a credit score is a number a person’s given based on their financial history, and depends on factors like bill payments or outstanding loans,” she explained slowly, as though waiting for him to stop and assure her he understood at any moment. “And to get your credit score, I’m going to need some information from you, sir. Can I have your name?”

“The Doctor,” he readily supplied.

“Alright, and first and last name, sir?”

“No, no,” he said, waving a hand cheerily though it presumably made no difference to her. “Just the Doctor.”

“I’m afraid that’s not a name, sir.”

“Well, of course it isn’t just a name. It’s my name. It’d be silly if you had multiple people running around calling themselves the Doctor — there’s already enough of me doing that.”

There was another long pause. “Well, sir, I will try to find your information in our system, but it might take some time.”

“How much?”

“If you could please hold.”

“Er, yes? Hold what?” He pulled the phone back to look at the receiver. “Keisha? Hello?”

Keisha’s voice had been replaced by the xylophone. And maybe some strings.

“Keisha,” the Doctor grumbled under his breath. He sighed and set the phone down on its side, where he could still make out the music. The Doctor paced around a bit on the main platform, then up on the second level. He went down below to do some maintenance, then came back up.

The music was still playing. He hated waiting.

“Right, okay. Time to jump the line.”

The Doctor hung up the phone. A short trip through the Vortex later and he was striding out into a very tiny cubicle in which was sat a very startled woman with very nice, intricate braids woven into her hair.

“Keisha, right?” The Doctor checked. “I was on the phone with you an hour and a half ago. The Doctor, remember?”

“How did you—”

“I was in the neighborhood. Listen, the way I see it, the faster we get this all sorted out is the less time we have to spend on it, right? So let’s sort it out.” He dropped the files on her desk and gestured at them. “That’s everything I’ve got so far, but I can’t get anywhere without the credit score.”

“This is to co-sign for a house?” She asked after briefly skimming the top form. She was either very clever or just very literate. Possibly both.

“Yes, my wife wants one. It seems very tedious, but her 150th is coming up, so.” He shrugged.

“Right…” She rolled her shoulders and opened up a new window on her computer, which was a flat screen embedded into the cubicle wall. “This is your first time filing with us?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll need to open an account. Let me see what I can find in terms of identification.”

After some tapping on the screen interspersed with checking some of the things he had written down, she turned back around in her chair.

“We have on file here that you’re dead.”

“Ah. Yes. Well, that would be spoilers for me. See, I clearly haven’t died yet.” The Doctor splayed his arms wide in demonstration. It wasn’t as though he could tell her that what they had on record was his fake death. That just wouldn’t do.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” said Keisha.

“Neither am I, most days. But since I am not dead, could I have the information I need to fill out the paperwork for my wife?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. Even if I ignore the claim that you’re dead, you don’t seem to have a record of any credit.”

He rocked back on his heels, hands planted at his waist. “Well, how exactly do you go about getting one?”

“Making purchases and paying them back,” She answered blandly. “Loans. That sort of thing.”

“That’s what people do?”

“Yes. Usually with money they make at their jobs, sir.”

Well, there was a thought. “I’ve had one of those! Maybe they can get me a credit score.”

“Maybe, sir.”

“Alright, then, I’ll be back in a mo’,” he told her, seizing the stack of papers River had given him once more, though he staggered under the additional weight as Keisha through another heavy-looking file. “What’s this, then?”

“Life insurance policy. You may want to take one out before you are dead, sir.”

The Doctor considered, then shook his head. “I’ll be dead before I’d have sorted it out, I expect.” At least he hoped.

Just a quick trip, and then he might soon have all this bureaucratic nonsense out of his life. If the Time Lords could see him now.

The things one did for love.

—-

Kate Stewart had been enjoying a cuppa at her desk until the peace and quiet was shattered by the sound of a wheezing engine, and the papers in front of her were scattered in a sudden strong wind.

She looked up to find the TARDIS materializing right in her office doorway.

“Kate!” The Doctor came bounding out the doors in a purple coat and vest this time, though the bowtie, it seemed, was a constant. She mentally made a note to add that to the file.

“Doctor, this is a surprise. Are we under attack?”

“Not at all, just looking for a bit of assistance.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “With?”

“Taxes,” he answered plainly. Kate nearly fell out of her chair. “River’s eyeing up a house near the Luna University, and there’s a whole thing about payments and whatnot that she’s asked me to sign on for with her, but I haven’t got much in the way of financial history.”

Kate scrambled for a pen and a notepad to start writing this down. At the top of the page, she labeled River? with a large circle surrounding the name.

“See, as of now I have absolutely horrible credit because there’s very little way for me to establish a record of buying and paying for things,” he continued on. “But then I thought, you know who has records? UNIT has records! Loads of records. Records by the bucketful! Surely if anyone has a record of me holding a steady position where I incurred expenses and compensated them, it’ll be UNIT.” The Doctor paused and looked at her. “So would you happen to have something like that?”

“Er, yes, I imagine.” Kate placed a call down to their records keeper, then asked for a pot of tea to be put on while they waited. Her own cup, she requested to be made particularly strong.

“So, you’re buying a house?” She asked to make conversation.

“River’s buying the house,” he corrected her.

“Still, not very like you.” He had lived on Earth for years while working full-time with UNIT and had, by all accounts, slept in the TARDIS parked in his lab.

“Yes, well, River has a habit of making me do things not very like me,” he said, in a tone that was as exasperated as it was fond. He perked up as their records keeper entered with a very old cardboard box. “There we go. Excellent! Give the man a raise.”

“You won’t be getting a raise, Jeremy,” she informed the records keeper matter-of-factly. He nodded and left the room.

The Doctor had popped the lid of the box and was thumbing through the papers. “Credit, credit… not actually sure where I’m meant to find it. Ah well, Keisha will know.” He replaced the lid and hauled the whole box into his arms. “Thanks very much, Kate.”

“Actually, Doctor, since we’re on the subject and if my recollection serves me, we don’t seem to have an accurate date on when you held the lab position with us. Would you be able to—”

The Time Lord was already walking back into his box, and he waved a hand over his shoulder. “Oh, just pick one.”

Kate’s sigh was covered by the departing TARDIS engines.

—-

Clara entered the TARDIS Wednesday morning with a skip in her step. “Mine turn to pick, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Chin Boy agreed, stepping away from the controls as though ceding them to her. She wasn’t actually going to fly this thing, mind. No matter what he’d said about the old cow starting to warm up to her. “Where to?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Clara lifted her old book out of her satchel and hugged it to her chest for a moment. Then, just as she’d opened the cover, the phone rang outside.

“That’s odd.” She knew she’d called him on it, before, but just how many people knew that number anyway? Apart from that woman in the shop, she supposed.

“Ah, hold the thought, Clara,” he said, hurrying around her with a slide of the heels and leaving the ship. “Hello? It has? Approved? Keisha, I could kiss you!”

“Not a snog box, my arse,” Clara muttered under her breath. She hurried to the doorway and leaned out. “Oi, mind not shouting for the whole street to hear?” Artie and Angie were getting curious enough about where she always went on her days off, especially since the latter claimed Clara never used to go anywhere at all.

The Doctor put his hand over the bottom of the phone. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. “Just got some very good news for one Professor Song.”

Clara raised her eyebrows. “Friend of yours?”

He nodded distractedly, then half-turned away as he continued to speak into the phone. “Yes. Yes, I can stop by. I’ll take the papers over myself to have them signed. You’ve been a saint, Keisha, you’ll do great things. I’m sure of it. Keep working wonders. Yes, bye-bye.”

He hung up the phone and dropped back against the doors with relief as though he’d just completed a marathon.

“You okay?” She asked wryly.

He popped right back up. “Okay? I’m more than okay on this day of days.”

“Right, this day where we’re apparently going to fill paperwork with professors?”

The Doctor paused. “Er, no. I’ll take care of that. Alone.” He tugged at his ear, looking uncomfortable with twitching limbs.

“Something the matter?”

“What? No, nothing. Just, best for me to pay a private visit.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah.”

Perhaps Professor Song didn’t like unfamiliar visitors. Clara pictured a stuffy, studious bloke surrounded by bookshelves and nodded to herself.

“Well then, I suppose I will pick after all. Any further expected interruptions?” She asked, fixing him with a mock arch look.

“None whatsoever.” He gestured back inside of the box. “Lead on, Clara.”

The leader, was she? She quite liked the sound of that.

—-

River did not like being led places. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” was all he said, his breath tickling her ear while his hands rested over her eyes. Oh, he was infuriating sometimes.

“You know I can get out of this any time I like.”

“Yes. And you can get out… now!” He pulled his hands back, and River stood blinking at a front door.

Not just any front door. Her front door. The one she wanted.

“You just fancied a look, then?” He hadn’t brought up the favor she’d asked of him, though she knew by their diaries that he had been asked, and River hadn’t brought it up either. She didn’t want to be too pushy, or else he’d get his back up. It was his way.

“Nope,” he told her, then withdrew a pen and a form from his vest pocket. “Sign here, please.”

His signature was already affixed under where she was meant to. “Is this…?”

“It’s yours. Already is, actually, I’ve jumped us ahead a few days after I’ve filed the papers, which I’ll do after you sign them. You are the proud owner of four walls, a door and the dimensionally-proportional space contained therein.”

River numbly took the pen and paper and signed her name. It hardly seemed real. It felt like a dream.

She’d never had a home of her own. There was the TARDIS, of course, but no one owned her. Her mother’s childhood home had been Amy’s house and same as her dad’s. Her parent’s place — well, there had been a guest room she’d used now and then. So had other people. They all knew she didn’t live there with them.

But this… this was a space for her to be and to do with as she pleased. She could put things up on the walls or in a drawer without worrying about them being monitored by the Silence or taken during a cell inspection or missing the next time she met up with a younger version of her husband.

“Why anyone would want to be is beyond me, of course,” he was saying now with an exaggerated sniff. He was putting on a show to hide how secretly pleased he was as she gazed on him in wonder.

A part of her had thought he’d never do it.

“You have the keys?” A second later, they were dangling in front of her face, and River snatched them out of the air. She hurried to throw open the door and entered. A sitting room, kitchen, table with chairs. A hallway leading back towards a bed and bath. Tiny and utterly mundane and beautiful.

“You don’t have to go and file those right away, do you?” She asked, reaching back blindly for his hand. He grasped hers loosely in his, twining their fingers.

“No, not right away. Why, have a celebration in mind? We could watch telly, pick out new paint colors…”

River looked back at him with a smirk. “I was thinking we could break in the rooms, honey.”

It was her husband who smirked right back at her. “Now you’re talking.” He kicked the door shut with a ridiculous flail of one leg and was in her arms the next breath.

“Home, Sweetie, Home,” River whispered against his lips.

—-

The Doctor waved goodbye to Clara as she exited the TARDIS once more. They’d had an interesting time of things in the Sombrero Galaxy which, disappointingly, had not included sombreros. But they’d made it back in one piece; frankly, he counted it a mark of success each time Clara came back in one piece. He wasn’t sure whether the third time really was the charm in her case or not, but he was very sure he couldn’t lose her the same way he had lost the other two Claras. Not when he’d already lost so much.

Before he could take off again, there was a flash of light that caused him to duck down under the console for a moment before realizing it wasn’t coming at him. Instead, it hovered across the room, slowly taking shape.

Ah, a delivery. He occasionally received deliveries — perhaps that fez he’d ordered was finally here — but when the light faded, it was not a mechanized courier who stood there, but a letter that dropped to the floor.

The Doctor hurried round to that side of the console and picked it up. It was labeled with the logo of Lunar Revenue. He pinched the bridge of his nose and opened the envelope, bracing himself for what new form or inquiry he needed to fill.

Inside was a single sheet of paper. It read:

Dear The Doctor,

Lunar Services was notified June 7th of the passing of Professor R. Song, the borrower of an outstanding loan on a residence. While we are deeply saddened for your loss, as co-signer you have inherited the remaining balance of that loan. If you wish to have the property taken as collateral to settle the debt, no further action need be taken. Please be advised that this may harm your credit score.

If you would like to continue paying the remaining balance and retain the property, please contact one of our Customer Care Reps at the following number.

He didn’t read the number, for the letter slipped from his fingertips and fluttered to the floor. His hand went to his lips. He had known, yes, that this day was coming, but he hadn’t thought- he’d never expected—

He’d never realized he would be notified of his own wife’s death with such an afterthought.

Anger flaring up within him, he kicked at the letter. It skidded across the floor and stopped, the outline of the tread of his boots printed over one corner. The envelope went next in the opposite direction. It looked rather pitiful and useless, which matched his mood.

He sunk down on the steps and didn’t hear the door opening again. But he heard Clara’s voice. “Everything alright? You haven’t gone yet.”

The Doctor leapt up as if scalded, spinning on his toes as his face contorted in an effort to force the water welling up in his eyes back down. Clara was bending down towards the letter from Lunar Services.

“Don’t touch that!”

She jumped back as he tore it from her grasp, pressing it to his chest. “No need to get tetchy,” she snapped, though she seemed taken aback when their eyes met. “Chin Boy?”

Clara reached towards him, but he stepped back, turning to brace a hand on the control panel as he tucked the letter away.

“Sorry. Just some… private correspondence,” he muttered to the buttons and levers.

“Was it from Professor Song?”

His head bowed, bracing himself.

“I only saw the name, I didn’t read anything else,” Clara hurried to say.

A breath released. She hadn’t seen. He didn’t have to talk about this, this thing he had never talked about ever. “yes, it was from Professor Song,” he lied, and the lie came easy.

“Okay. Well… I guess I’ll leave you to answer it.” She said, and he could hear her drift one foot back towards the door.

“Thank you, Clara,” he said, and he looked once at her over his shoulder. “See ya Wednesday.”

“See ya,” she echoed, the barest of smiles gracing her lips, a mark that he’d at least done a little to reassure her. When the door closed a second time, he immediately pulled the lever to dematerialize. He couldn’t afford to stick around again by mistake.

Once safely alone, the Doctor took out the letter again, eyes scanning over the words. If you would like to continue paying the remaining balance and retain the property… Retain the property?

It had been River’s house, not his. River would be in every room. Her things and the scent of her perfume and the sound of her laugh — just thinking of it was enough to fill his lungs and head so much that he could hardly breathe, could hardly think.

If you wish to have the property taken as collateral to settle the debt, no further action need be taken. Please be advised that this may harm your credit score, the letter said, and that felt better. No action could be taken. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could change.

The Doctor marched back to his study and opened a drawer. He placed the letter inside as far back as it would fit, then shut it. He knew already that he would never open it again nor speak to anyone from Lunar Services, tax evasion and bad credit be damned.

He’d never wanted the score or the house. He just wanted her. Now he would have none.

#eleven appreciation weekend #eleventh doctor #river song #eleven x river #doctor who #doctor x river #my writing

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apparentlynotreallyfinnish · 5 years ago

Text

Incognito - part 3

If you missed them, you can read the first two chapters here. --- Link was eating his cereal, his motions automated, staring straight ahead seeing nothing. He was wearing only his boxers; his hair an undone messy nest on top of his head. The sleepless night had settled on his shoulders and slumped him into a hunch. He didn’t have to look into a mirror to know he looked like a walking corpse. He felt it. Thankfully, they didn’t have any filming scheduled for today. Silver linings.

After finally falling asleep, he’d dreamt of Rhett. He didn’t remember the dreams properly; there were only flashes lingering in his mind. Rhett smiling at him, eyes hooded and soft, head on the pillow next to Link. Rhett’s fingers dancing on Link’s stomach, moving slowly lower, making Link whimper with anticipation. Link’s fingers threading into Rhett’s curls and tugging hard. Rhett’s moan. God, that was the thing that haunted Link the most. Rhett moaning his name, all ragged and needy. Link shook his head, trying to physically get rid of a memory of something that had never happened.

A car horn startled him and made him slosh milk everywhere. Link cursed and grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess. He glanced at the clock. He was late. Another curse fell from his lips. He’d lost track of time. The car horn sounded again, and annoyance flooded Link.

“I’m coming,” he muttered to himself and strode to the front door. He flew it open and roared, “I need a minute!”

Rhett looked at him from the car, eyes blown wide. He lifted his hands up, palms facing Link. Link stomped back inside and pulled on clothes with angry tugs. He had no time to shower so he just did what he could with his hair. It looked horrendous but five minutes later he was hopping in the car, still fuming.

“Good morning?” Rhett said carefully; it was more of a question than a greeting. His gaze was worried and curious, and it made Link’s mood shift a bit. He felt himself softening. Some of the anger ebbed away and he was left feeling exhausted and only a bit annoyed.

“Didn’t get much sleep, sorry,” he mumbled as he buckled up. Link didn’t look at Rhett, he didn’t dare to. He was too afraid that the strange mood those dreams had left him in might leak out to his expression somehow.

“No worries, bo. That sucks. Try and get some shut-eye on the way?”

“Mmh. Maybe,” Link said, closed his eyes and let his head lean against the window. It’s not like he had to ask Rhett right now. It might even be better to wait until the end of the workday. That way they’d have more time to talk. Rhett turned the radio down a bit and the steady hum of the car quickly lulled Link into sleep.

A gentle touch on his shoulder woke him up. Rhett was smiling at him from the driver’s seat.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’re here,” he said in a hushed tone.

Link instantly flushed crimson and quickly turned his head to hide the blush. His mind understood that Rhett was only making a reference to a fairy tale and not actually calling him beautiful but, by God, his body hadn’t gotten the memo. Rhett didn’t seem to notice anything strange since he just hopped out of the car and headed for the door. Link took a deep breath and followed him in. He was actually feeling a bit better after his nap.

They settled into their office and Link couldn’t help but observe Rhett secretly. Did this man look like someone who had sexted with a stranger on an app last night? Did he look like someone who was hiding a full-on secret life from his best friend? Honestly, Rhett looked totally normal. He’d thrown his bag under his desk and sat down with a heavy thud. He got out his phone, tapped on the screen a few times and Link could’ve sworn his face fell a bit. Link’s eyebrows shot up. What was Rhett hoping to see there? A message from a certain blue eyed fellow maybe?

Link sat down at his desk and got out his own phone. He perked up when he noticed the notifications from Incognito. He’d gotten another match which he promptly ignored. What mattered more was the fact that Mr. Paddleboard had sent him a message.

PaddleBoardMe: Good morning, baby blue. I hope your morning has started better than mine…

Link glanced over his shoulder at Rhett. There was an opportunity for a little test here.

BlueEyes78: Sadly, probably not. What happened to you?

BlueEyes78: Oh, and good morning!

No need to be rude. Link turned in his chair and lifted his legs onto a small cabinet next to his desk. From this position he could see Rhett from the corner of his eye. Nothing happened. Rhett kept working on his laptop. He didn’t acknowledge his phone. After ten-ish minutes Link got tired of waiting and got to work. He kept glancing at Rhett and every time he took his phone, Link’s heart skipped a beat, but no new messages came.

“Gonna go get a drink. You want something?” Rhett asked some time later.

“Sure, bring me a La Croix. Thanks,” Link answered.

Rhett had been gone barely a minute when Link’s phone lit up.

PaddleBoardMe: Good morning! :) Nothing major. Accidentally made someone mad. I felt bad but everything’s okay now. Can I do something to make your day better? ;)

Link drew in a sharp breath. He glanced at Rhett’s desk. He’d taken his phone with him. Link’s stomach sunk. There were just too many coincidences. The most logical explanation was that Mr. Paddleboard was Rhett. But Link had to be absolutely sure.

BlueEyes78: I’m glad you feel better. Since you’re offering, wanna tell me what you’re wearing?

Link’s foot tapped on the floor. He placed his phone on the desk and pressed his sweating palms into his thighs. His mind was going a mile a minute.

PaddleBoardMe: Really? You wanna do that at work? Kinky ;)

BlueEyes78: Just wanna know what you’re wearing. Totally innocent.

PaddleBoardMe: Uh-huh. I’m wearing some grey vans, black jeans and a green t-shirt. I like the shirt because it kinda matches my eyes.

Link’s phone slipped from his fingers and dropped on the floor with a clatter. His hand was clamped in front of his mouth. A noise burst out behind his fingers, something between a laugh and a cry. Link felt faint. It was Rhett. Mr. Paddleboard was definitely Rhett. With a shaky hand, Link reached for his phone.

BlueEyes78: I’m sorry. I gotta go.

Link closed the app and slipped his phone into his pocket. He was trying to will away the shakes. Okay, okay. Everything is fine. This was just unfortunate. Yes, they’d accidentally been matched on a dating app. Yes, they’d sexted. Yes, they’d jerked off to each other’s words. But they hadn’t known! Things might be awkward for a while but as time passed, they could surely laugh at this whole situation.

Then a thought hit Link. He’d described himself to Mr. Paddleboard and his answer had been…

That’s exactly my type.

Link was Rhett’s type. Rhett’s type was Link. The panic that gripped Link was something he’d never felt before. Had Rhett thought about him when he was…? Link pushed the thought away. It made him lightheaded; scared to his core. Link got up from his chair to nervously pace around the office. His shaky hand was in his hair, messing it up even worse than it already was.

Rhett was Link’s life. He’d been his life for the last 35 years. But not like that, not as a romantic partner. Those were fleeting. Every romantic relationship Link ever had came with an expiration date. The intense feelings of the beginning just mellowed out and then there was nothing left. That couldn’t happen with Rhett. Link needed Rhett.

They always talked about the future; working together until retirement. Spending their old age together, sitting on a porch somewhere warm and pleasant, cursing the youths and remembering their glory days. Link thought of an alternative, about sitting there with someone else or even alone. He doubled over from the pain. Even an imagined life without Rhett made Link gasp for air and his eyes burn with tears.

What if Rhett wanted to be more with Link and Link turned him down? Could they ever come back from that? He’d always thought there was nothing that could break the bond they had. But the possibility of unrequited love hadn’t ever even crossed his mind. Could Link keep sitting in this office day in and day out knowing that Rhett wanted to be more than friends, knowing that Rhett was pining for him. Link wasn’t sure if after a hurt like that they could just carry on like nothing had happened.

But Link could be reading too much into this. Maybe Rhett hadn’t actually meant anything by saying that that was his type. Maybe he’d just wanted to be nice to the random guy he thought he was talking with. Maybe it was just part of the play – just something you say in the heat of the moment. Maybe Rhett would be as embarrassed to find out who he’d really been messaging with. For some reason, that option seemed to hurt Link more.

Any second now, Rhett was about to step through that door. And they’d be here, in their office together, like a thousand days before this one.

Nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

Link could hear his footsteps approaching and ran for his chair. The door opened at the same time as he got back to his laptop. A can was placed on the edge of his desk.

“Here.”

“Thanks,” Link replied and took a quick peek at Rhett. He was staring at his phone, frowning. His expression was like a knife at Link’s heart; the pain stung and lingered. He realized that in his panic he’d been pretty rude. Rhett looked sad and it was Link’s fault. It felt like the slow unraveling of their friendship had already begun. Link was making Rhett miserable. Why did I go on that app? Stupidest idea ever.

---

Link said nothing. He spent the day avoiding Rhett the best he could. He got barely any work done. All he could think about was Rhett. Rhett wanting him. Rhett not wanting him. And by the end of the day, he was so confused by his thoughts that he didn’t even know which option was the worse one. He’d been working in one of the conference rooms and he went back to their office, hoping to quickly nip in and out, call a Lyft and go home. The office was empty, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He gathered his things and turned to leave. The door was blocked by Rhett’s towering figure. It made Link jump and he dropped his phone for the second time that day. Rhett cocked an eyebrow at him as he quickly picked it up and chuckled awkwardly.

“Wow, lurk much?”

“Link, what’s going on?” Rhett asked. His features were drenched in worry.

“What do you mean? Nothing,” Link muttered and walked up to him. His hand reached for the handle, but Rhett stepped in front of it. Link glanced at him, annoyed.

“Can you please move?”

“No.”

“Rhett. I’m tired, I’m cranky. I wanna go home. Move.”

“Link. Please talk to me. You’ve been acting strange today. It’s freaking me out.”

“It’s nothing. Let me go,” Link said. He was starting to get angry. His mind was a jumble of thoughts he couldn’t figure out. And the worst part of it was that he couldn’t even talk with his best friend about any of this.

“You do know you can talk to me about anything?” Rhett said voice soft and concerned. Link’s stomach clenched. It was like Rhett had read his mind. The sentiment was sweet and, a few days ago, Link would have believed him and whole-heartedly agreed.

Now he was just confused. Rhett was saying it like he meant it but he himself hadn’t told Link. He’d been with guys for God knows how long and he’d never even hinted at that. What else was he hiding from Link? What could he trust now? Was their friendship just a remnant of something they had as children? Was Link a weight dragging Rhett down; someone who he had to keep around because they’d decided to go into business together? The sudden possibility of their friendship being a sham blindsided Link. His stomach churned and his hands began to shake. The fear of losing Rhett gripped him and he lashed out to the only person he could.

“Yeah?” Link said and he couldn’t stop the nasty edge that his words took. He turned his face upwards to look at Rhett before continuing, “So, I should tell you everything? Even though you don’t!”

“What are you talking about? Of course, I do,” Rhett said recoiling from Link’s sudden intense stare. Link scoffed.

“I know you don’t. Let me go, Rhett. Nothing good is gonna come from this conversation.”

“I don’t understand! Please, Link. Talk to me,” Rhett was pleading now. He moved forward, maybe trying to grab Link’s shoulder, and Link stepped back to dodge his touch. Rhett’s face fell. His arm dropped and he hung his head.

“Have I done something to hurt you? I don’t… Please tell me.”

Link couldn’t take this anymore. He was in acute pain. And so was Rhett. He took out his phone, opened the app and wrote.

BlueEyes78: Move.

Rhett’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked at Link, expression confused.

“Did you just text me? That’s pretty passive aggressive, even for you. Link, can we just…” he sounded exasperated, but his sentence was cut short when he got his phone unlocked and read the message. All color drained from his face and his mouth fell open. He stared at the phone.

“There. Now you know. Can you move?” Link muttered looking at his feet. His heart was beating wildly. He needed to get away. He needed to get away before he said something he couldn’t take back.

I love you. Don’t leave me.

I can’t be with you. Not like that.

“Link… You…” Rhett was stammering. His eyes finally rose from the phone and sought Link’s, but Link was dodging his gaze. He was on the verge of tears.

“Let me go, Rhett. I – I can’t,” he whispered, voice trembling.

Rhett’s whole body seemed to deflate and he moved away from the door. Link walked out of the office, feeling like his heart had been ripped out and left there.

#Appa writes fic #rhink #rhink fic #Incognito #part 3 #revelations #Link is still confused

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godknowsqueen · 6 years ago

Note

Ben x reader idea: A party. That’s it. Have fun. Do whatever the frick you want. But there’s a party. Have a neato day

to new beginnings ; ben hardy x reader

Summary: Everyone knows you and Ben have feelings for each other. Except you and Ben. That is when Rami decides to throw a small party at his place to try to get you two together.

Warnings: Alcohol, so much cheesy fluff, swears.

A/N: wow anon u really want a party don’t u. tbh my idea of a party is a fun and stupid time with a small group of friends, so i’m sorry if that’s not what you had in mind! have a neato day as well!!! thanks for the prompt!

“Rami! Where’s the champagne?” Lucy called out as she entered the house. You followed right behind her, shaking your head in disbelief at how much this girl loves her champagne.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask about me first then the champagne? I’m so hurt,” Rami jokingly puts his hand on his chest pretending he’s in pain.

“Hmm, I think champagne wins at this moment, Rami,” you laughed, giving him a quick hug as Rami gives you another look pretending he is offended.

“Okay, alright, I get it, girls just wanna have fun,” he points at the counter behind the couch, “there’s a bottle right there.”

“Thank you, love,” Lucy utters before giving Rami a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You start walking to the counter, grabbing two glasses and pouring some champagne for both you and Lucy. The blonde takes one glass from you and clinks it with yours.

You were all celebrating the last day of shooting by having a mini party at Rami’s house as there will be a huger, club party the next day that involved the entire movie team. You were the assistant director of the movie, and you had a very close friendship with the boys and Lucy.

“Cheers, dear.”

“Cheers!”

You both start sipping on the champagne, having a little chat, and then you hear noises growing louder from the living room.

“God, these boys. Wanna go see what they’re up to?” Lucy asks, lightly placing her hand on your arm.

“Sure! I guess we’ll need that with us, too,” you answered, grabbing the bottle of champagne. You automatically felt you heart beat a little faster when you heard Ben’s laugh ring out throughout the house.

“Well, Ben sounds like he’s having a good time for sure,” she shakes her head, giggling at the insane laughter that has been continuing for a while now.

You felt yourself getting nervous, but you managed to speak, “Yeah, god knows what’s going on in there.”

Both of you slowly started walking to the living room, and Lucy decided to drop the bomb, “So, Ben, huh?”

“Wh-what about Ben, Lucy?” you were getting absolutely flustered.

Am I THAT obvious? Shit, what if he notices? What if he already noticed?

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” she gave you a sly smirk, but you tried to ignore it so that you don’t start overthinking the thoughts that started to cloud your mind.

“Yeah, nothing,” you emphasized, and carried on as you entered the living room, “except that he is laughing like an utter lunatic.”

There they were in the living room: Joe, Gwilym, Rami, and Ben.

They all stopped laughing and froze, as if you and Lucy caught them amidst a crime. You could immediately tell what was making them laugh like that.

Joe was standing with a mouthful of beer, judging by the half empty bottle of beer on the table in front of him, while Gwilym was trying to seduce him with corny pickup lines. Joe was obviously trying to win by not laughing and spraying the place with beer. Ben and Rami were intensely watching the pickup lines unfold, laughing louder and louder in hopes of tempting Joe to laugh.

Lucy plopped down on the sofa next to Rami, resting her head on his shoulder. You looked around to find that Ben was sitting alone on a couch, and he motioned with his hand for you to sit next to him.

“(Y/N), sit next to Ben. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite,” Rami paused, “unless you want him to, of course.” You saw Joe trying so hard to suppress his laughter after Rami said his statement.

“Rami, I think you might’ve had a little bit too much wine,” you tried to stay calm, taking a seat next to Ben, whose face was turning a little bit red.

“Hey, you” Ben said softly, giving you a smile that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Hello there,” you said in a mellow tone, but your little moment with Ben was interrupted by a pickup line from Gwilym.

“Hey, Joe, are you Roger’s drums? Because I’d bang you all night long,” Gwilym started doing finger gun moves, attempting to increase the impact. Rami and Lucy were laughing like crazy at this point, and you couldn’t help but burst out in laughter as well at the cheesiness.

“Seriously, Joe? I can’t believe you’re holding it in,” Lucy indicated, pouring herself another glass of champagne.

The pickup line made Ben groan in frustration and say, “I think that would work on me rather than on Joe, Gwilym.”

“Hm, okay wait, wait,” Gwilym put his hands in his pockets in a smug manner, and got his face close to Joe’s ear. He coughed a little bit before dropping his next pickup line: “So, what’s your number, cucumber?”

And with that, Joe proceeded to spray everyone withbeer. He tried to stop it from happening, but he was going to choke if he tried to drink it with all the laughter occurring. Gwilym ran towards the balcony, while Lucy hid in Rami’s arms attempting to avoid the beer.

As if by instinct, Ben engulfed you under his hoodie. You were so shocked by the sudden move, but it felt so good being so close to Ben. You feel his hands securing your head under the hoodie, and moving to engulf you in what seemed like a protective hug. You could feel the warmth of his body on your cheeks as his cologne took your breath away. Although it was very loud in that room, you felt like time has stopped in these few seconds.

Well, at least like that they won’t be able to see how much I’m blushing because I sure as hell am.

Eventually, you took Joe’s laugh as an indication that there was no beer in his mouth anymore and that it’s safe to come out of Ben’s hoodie. You got out, and the first thing your eyes landed on were Ben’s dreamy green ones that were glowing with happiness for some odd reason.

You tried to hide your flustered state by talking, “Okay, who came up with this nasty idea?”

“It’s me,” Joe raised his hand in defeat.

“So, not only are you masochist for putting yourself through this, but you’re also a sadist for making us all get sprayed with beer that was in your mouth? Boy, you have some issues,” you get up and give him a small punch on the arm.

“You know I’m here if you ever need to talk about any of your issues, right, Joe?” Ben said sarcastically, putting an arm around Joe.

“I think it would be more appropriate if we talk about YOUR issues, Benny,” Joe raises his eyebrows at Ben, and smiling widely at him. Ben gave him a ‘watch it’ look as he shifted uneasily in his place. You hear Gwilym chant an “ohohohoho” as he came back from the balcony, claiming his victory for making Joe laugh.

“Seriously, the drum banging one doesn’t get you laughing and the cucumber one does? So disappointed,” Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose, disapproving of Joe’s choices.

“Okay, kids, we need to start preparing the snacks for tonight or we’ll get drunk rather quickly,” Rami starts walking towards the kitchen, “Ben, (Y/N), you guys go set up the table in the balcony.”

“Yes, sir,” Ben said, extending his arm to you, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you chuckled taking Ben’s arm.

The state of you both has always been confusing. You have always had feelings for him, ever since you’ve known him. However, your friendship was so beautiful and you were horrified that it would be ruined if you made him aware of your feelings. You didn’t even want to risk any of the guys and Lucy hinting to him about anything, so you kept your feelings to yourself only. Yet, you couldn’t help but have moments where you felt like Ben had something for you as well, but you’d remember that he is a really sweet guy in general, so it’s probably nothing special.

All you knew now was that your feelings were getting too much to handle, so you were afraid of crossing that line you drew for yourself.

As you two walked into the balcony, you grabbed the bags full of plastic plates and cups while Ben placed a tablecloth on the table. The silence between you both was killing you, but at the same time you wanted him to start a convo.

As you handed him the bag full of plastic cutlery, your fingers brushed against his, making you pull away quickly. Your reaction made Ben a little surprised, but he decided to brush it off.

“You should wear that dress more often, looks really good on you,” Ben muttered, his eyes lingering on your figure.

“Oh, I’m usually not a dress person, but this one is particularly comfortable. Thank you, Ben,” you smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“By the way, I’m sorry if I took you by surprise when I took you under my hoodie-,”

“Oh no no it’s ok-”

“I just wanted to prot-”

“Yeah of course I underst-”

You both paused at the same time, noticing that you kept cutting each other off. Ben was standing pretty close to you, and you both started laughing a little nervously at the confusion.

“Sorry,” you said in unison, making you both laugh a little more again. You felt your heart jump with happiness as you just stood there in the middle of the balcony, laughing with the man that stole your heart as the beautiful, starry night sky surrounded you. It felt like a dream.

As your laughter quieted down, a little frown took over Ben’s lips. You intently looked at his face, admiring him yet wondering what made him frown all of a sudden.

“Is something wrong, Ben?” you carefully asked, a feeling of worry replacing the happiness that was in your heart only minutes ago.

He shook his head, his eyes not leaving yours, “No, the complete opposite, (Y/N). For the first time in so long, something feels so right.”

“And what is that?” you softly spoke.

With that, Ben placed his hand on one side of your face. The touch sent shivers down your spine, but what came next sent electrifying sensations throughout your whole body. His lips were suddenly placed between yours, and his other hand took yours as your fingers perfectly intertwined with his. With your free hand, you lightly tugged at his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. The mixture of shock, surprise, and the impact of Ben’s kiss were enough to take your breath away, causing you to end the kiss.

He rest his forehead on yours, lifting your hand up to his lips and giving it what could possibly be the softest kiss ever. You watched as his golden curls slightly fell on his face, tempting you to brush them back with your other hand. As you did, Ben separated his lips from your hand, and finally started talking.

“If you couldn’t tell by now, (Y/N), I have feelings for you. A lot of them, actually,” he grinned in a very cute way, suddenly looking like a little boy confessing his feelings.

“Well, if you couldn’t tell either, I have a lot of feelings for you, too,” you giggled, twirling a little bit in your dress that he liked so much.

“WELL, DARLINGS. EVERYONE COULD TELL EXCEPT THE BOTH OF YOU.”

“SO WHEN IS THE FUCKING WEDDING?”

“IT’S ABOUT TIME, DUMBASSES.”

Your romantic moment was put to an end when the boys and Lucy broke into the balcony, jumping like maniacs as they clinked their beer-filled cups in cheers.

“Why are we friends with them again?” Ben wrapped his arm around your waist.

“I ask myself that question every day,” you shrugged, “Wait, hold up, what did you mean by everyone could tell?”

“You two were so obvious! But what made it funny is that we all knew you liked him, and we all knew he liked you-,” Joe stared explaining.

“But you two poor souls were so thick and couldn’t tell that you had feelings for each other,” Rami continued.

“Okay, ouch,” (Y/N) you faked getting offended.

“I’m so happy for you, guys! God knows how many times the boys had to stop me from telling you both how you truly felt,” Lucy cheerfully stated, handing you both a cup of beer each.

“Cheers!” Rami raised his cup.

“To new beginnings!” Lucy said, followed by Gwilym and Joe repeating the statement.

“Cheers to us, love,” Ben’s raspy voice whispers in your ear.

“Cheers, dear,” you genuinely smile, planting a sweet kiss on Ben’s cheek.

#Anonymous #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohrap #bohemian rapsody movie #bohrhap #bohemian rhapsody cast #rami malek #gwilym lee #lucy boynton #joe mazzello #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction

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succinct-assbutt · 6 years ago

Text

||After school special||

fandom: supernatural

pairing: dean x reader (highschool)

warnings: make outs?? just teens being teens

summary: dean, in need of some tutoring, calls up the smartest person he knows.

A/N: a bit of a lengthy author’s note at the end but no pressure to read lmao, enjoy darlings :)

~*~

Y/N’s phone goes off as soon as she gets home, barely kicking her shoes off.

She sighs, dejected, and flops down onto her bed. There’s papier-mâché and craft scissors hidden somewhere among the mess, a tornado of art class having torn her room into shreds, but even through the clutter she makes out the blinking screen of her cell phone.

Slipping it out from under her book, she answers. “Hello?”

“You home?” The voice asks right away.

“Where else would I be?” Despite the ache in her muscles, she pushes herself up to sit, flicking her right shoe off so it can join the left by the door (her room’s a mess anyway).

She lets her hair out of the bun it’s been in all day and shakes out the stiff strands and curls. Everything about her screams tired; frizzy ends, wrinkled collar, the pleats in her uniform skirt uneven.

“Wow, attitude. And it’s only Wednesday.”

“What do you want, Dean?”

“I was just going through the geography textbook and I realized I know nothing about volcanoes.” He says brightly, “Figured you could help me with the assignment.”

Y/N balances the phone on her shoulder as she slides offer stockings. It’s unsurprising, really—it’s Dean. She’d be more surprised if he didn’t call.

“I’ve not even yet started.”

“Perfect. We could do it together. Are your parents home?”

Judging by the silence of the house, probably not. She didn’t bother to check on her way up, driven by the exhaustion and the sandbags weighing down her eyes. Most nights they work late.

“I think my mum’s shift is ending soon, but no, they’re not home.”

“Awesome. I’ll be there in ten.”

“No, Dean—“ She tries to say, but the line goes dead before she can finish.

Y/N pulls the phone away and glances down at the blinking screen; it’s ironic almost, the image staring back at her in form of her home-screen. None other than the elder Winchester himself, his chin rested on her head and wearing a wide smile. Homecoming, sophomore year. No matter how many times he annoys her, she can’t bring herself to change it, and maybe it’s a good thing because right then it manages to draw a tired smile from her.

As promised, Dean gets there in no more than ten minutes.

She’s passed out on her bed, face buried in the chaos of art supplies, when her phone buzzes to life; peering an eye open, she makes out his name blinking across the screen. Presses decline. Almost instantly it starts ringing again, and, groaning, this time she gets up.

She changes then heads down, surprised when she yanks the door open and no one’s there.

For a second her brow wrinkles. She checks her phone, then scans the perimeter: empty streets, only a few cars lining the road. Eerily normal and the thought that she dreamt this whole thing up crosses her mind, just for a flash second, before Dean appears right in front of her with pebbles in his palm.

Y/N jumps back in surprise; smiling—as usual—the elder Winchester, quirks his eyebrows at her.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” His hair is standing up in every direction and the sweat beading along his hairline gives away the fact that he must have ran here. “I figured you were still asleep, tried waking you up.”

“By throwing pebbles?” She glances at the handful of rocks from their driveway then back up at him. He shrugs, still smiling as they tumble out of his hand.

Then he leans in and gives her a quick kiss, before stepping into the house.

From the amount of times he’s been in her room before, Dean knows the rules almost instinctively: he kicks his shoes off right at the door, letting them join her own, then drops his bag at the foot of the bed. Robotic, almost. Laughing, y/n rolls her eyes as she lays out their study materials. She’s got all kinds of supplies to make her feel productive even when she’s anything but—the whole color coded scheme, sticky notes plastered all over her walls, flash cards tucked into her pencil case (you’d think she’d be a straight A student judging by how well she plays the part)

Dean picks up one of the notepads with her schedule written down. He eyes her dubiously. “Do you actually follow this?”

“I try to, but sometimes I just can’t be bothered.” She answers, shuffling things around and checking her notes.

The elder Winchester joins her on the floor, perching just a few inches away from their set-up. “I know what you mean—hell, maybe that’s why I’m failing Geography.” He slides the book back and leans back onto his elbows.

“You’re not failing,” Y/N insists, says it like it’s the hundredth time because frankly it probably is, “I told you, as long as I help you, you’re getting at least a C.”

“That’s not cocky at all.”

“It’s fact. You know how good I am Geography.” It’s true, in all honesty. Despite being a class below him, Y/N is miles ahead of Dean and the rest of his friends because of, what she insists is, hard work and determination.

If it wasn’t her looks that drew him in the first time, then it was definitely the smarts.

Dean’s not shy to admit it one bit: he likes brainy girls. Brainy girls who go off rambling about rocks and homeostasis; brainy girls with big books full of cursive and diagrams and who have sticky notes strung up all over their walls.

When they first met, Y/N having been pulled in from another class by their teacher to explain something about the earth’s plates moving, the elder Winchester was instantly drawn to her. She was nervous and confused, but it still made a lot more sense when she explained geology than when Miss Lambert did. Not to mention he’d seen her around school before, smiling with teachers and freshmen, putting up posters. Even if the grades didn’t always show it, there was no doubt in his mind that she was all about school.

“You owe me big time, Winchester,” Y/N says as she draws up a graph.

Curled against the bedframe, Dean watches her—his eyes move from her working fingers to the glasses perched on her nose, then back to the page of the book. She explains to him what he needs to know, and at the end they have some snacks, cozied up against the textbooks and papers played across the floor.

She stands to put everything away, but the elder Winchester pulls her back into him, his arm caged around her waist.

She falls into his lap so easily, laughing as he nuzzles his face into her neck. Dean knows she’s ticklish, but it’s not like that will stop him.

“Dean,” She can’t help but laugh,” Stop, or I’ll never help you again.”

“We both know you will, kiddo. And besides, who’s gonna help you with history then?” And math, and science, and basically anything that isn’t geography. Unlike her, he only has one weak spot.

“Stop!” Y/N tries to push him away, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, but it’s no use because he’s stronger and taller and soon enough she’s on her back, Dean hovering over her with a smile.

His brow wrinkles “Or?”

“Or I’m k-kicking you out—“In-between laughs, she gasps for air, the elder Winchester dipping to press a kiss against her collarbone. His breath is warm and rushed and she can smell the ginger-snaps they just had linger against her skin.

Soon enough, the sensation starts to melt into something mellower; her giggles slow to a stop, chest heaving up and down. Dean’s hand snakes up her side, slipping beneath her shirt. His fingers are cold. She can’t remember the last time she felt this in tune with the moment; calloused hands climbing her waist, soft lips lazing across the column of her throat.

And Y/N can’t help it, but her own hand disappears into the thickness of his sandy hair, tugging and careening and the books are still out and probably dog-eared by now but she doesn’t care.

“Your notes…” Dean murmurs into her stuttering chest.

She falls back against the stationary, hearing the crunch of the pages beneath both their weight. Not even for a second does she open her eyes. “Fuck it.”

“Sure?”

Her answer comes in form of nimble fingers clasping onto either side of his face and she kisses him, right there and then, absolved of any worry and former exhaustion school drew out of her—here, they’re not students or friends or anything but her and him and the heat that begins to buzz against their bodies, and Dean lets out a sated hum that sends ripples through her body.

His hands are everywhere; big and callous, they span across every inch of her, kneading and wanting, sliding up to her neck. Y/N stretches back and he takes the oppurtinity to pepper light kisses along the scope of her throat.

“The door.” She pants.

He drags his lips along her jawline, hips pressed flush against her own, “Are your parents home,”

“Shit, they will be…”

“Well, it’s your room.” He says.

“Dean…”

“Y/N….”

“Please get the door.”

“I’m a bit busy here…”

Sighing, Y/N plants her hands on his chest and pushes him off. The elder Winchester tumbles to the side; flushed and heady, his eyes follow her as she moves to check the lock. The collar of her shirt hangs loosely off her shoulder and already blooming are the marks of his teeth, mountain ranges against the expanse of her skin.

When she looks back at him, sucking a breath, he can trace the lust in her eyes; for a second her gaze flickers to the mess of books he’s laying on, and there’s almost a flash of sadness at the sight.

Dean looks down at the papers beneath him then back at his girlfriend. He quirks an eyebrow. “This okay?”

“It’s just…” She bites her lip and strains against her words; tries again, but nothing comes out. She can see all the flash cards spilled against the rug and the wrinkles in some of her worksheets. A sigh falls from her lips and she shuts her eyes, “Ugh, this is stupid.”

Dean can’t help but laugh; she’s brainy and cute, but more than anything a hard-worker, so he doesn’t need to think twice before he’s picking up the sheets strewn around him.

“Come on,” He hands her most of what he can salvage, not ignoring the wide grin that’s plastered across her face as they clean up.

Y/N clutches her books to her chest and laughs. “I know I said I was okay with it, but…”

“Heat of the moment, I get it.” He stuffs some flashcards back into her pencil case, tossing it onto the bed, then stands, inches away from Y/N. His mouth tugs into a small simper and he reaches out for her; her clothes are still a bit disarrayed and her glasses are nowhere to be found.

Arms wrapped around her waist, he lets his forehead press against hers. “Sorry about your stuff.” He says, and before she knows it, his lips are on her neck again.

It’s instinct, almost, how easily her body responds. She curls into him, and they practically mold into each other. Haste hands, slow kisses.

“You owe me a new notepad, by the way” Y/N giggles as her eyes move to the pile of things they couldn’t salvage—among it, her schedule and a bunch of crumpled up sticky notes, and Dean’s grin grows, fingers inching further up her torso.

“How about I pay you back with something better?”

~*~

It’s been a hot minute since I last posted, hasn’t it?

Thank you for reading! I’ve been in a bit of a rough place, hence the lack of writing, but I’m pushing myself to make more content. Likes, reblogs and follows are greatly appreciated

Secondly: I hate to be this person (even though I’m still going through with this lmao), but it’s been a tough couple of months for my family here in kampala and so that’s actually why I’ve come back on here; I’ve decided to open requests (even though I have over 10 unfinished fics atm lol) in hopes that, in exchange for a writing of your choosing/ length, a few peeps could send in donations?(even so much as 10$ makes a big difference here in Uganda).

Not to push anything down anyone’s throat, but if you’re interested in finding out how you can help my family and I out and receive a special piece of writing, inbox me or check out this link.

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imagining-sio · 6 years ago

Text

Escapism VI

A/n: I saw endgame... I'm feeling a lot of things. This story does not reflect it however so everything is fine. Not really but still.

Chapter VI:

Banana Pancakes

I felt the morning sun beam through my sheer curtains, lighting up my eyelids. I moaned in discomfort at the sunlight, turning over in my bed, revelling in the warmth. I hummed in contentment, moving closer to the warmth object. I felt a weight on my side, further envolipng my body in the sensation.

“Hey,” I heard a faint whisper, followed by a small peck on my forehead. There was a lingering sensation trailing up and down my spine, making me abscentmindedly squirm.

“Mmm,” I mumbled sleepily. I heard a small chuckle in response.

“You aren’t a morning person are you?” My neighbors voice rung in my ears. I felt a pair of lips on my exposed neck, kissing a sore spot as gentle as possible.

“Not particularly,” I groaned, my voice hoarse, finally opening my eyes. I smiled at the face before me, not caring for the fact I had realised that the only thing I had on was my bedsheets. My neighbor, now lying in my bed, in the same dishevled state I was in, propped his head up on his elbow.

“So,” he said.

“So?”

“Waffles?” he arched a brow. I rolled my eyes, a fond smile forming on my face. I mimicked his position, pulling the crisp white bedsheet up to cover myself.

“I arleady saw everything, you don’t really need to do that.” he drew circles on the small of my back. I laughed, lazily pushing his shoulder.

“I was thinking banana pancakes.” I eyed him. His eyes lit up.

“Okay!” He got out of bed, the gust of wind from the sheets sending goosebumps up my spine. He put his boxers on, and walked out of the room. I gave a puzzled expression before realizing that he had no idea what I was actually insinuating. I rolled out of bed, grabbing my underwear, which were hanging on the corner of my dresser. A risdual of the events that happened the night before.

I snatched a strewn shirt on the floor in the hallway leading to the stairs. Upon putting on, I found it was indeed not my own, as the hem hung down around my thighs. I took a small sniff of the material, the scent of my gorgeous neighbor prevalent. I could only smile walking down the stairs barefoot.

“Hey, where do you keep the pancake mix?” Bucky peeked his head out of the pantry, his dishevled hair hanging to the side. he had bruises on both sides of his neck, a result of my own accord.

“Third shelf from the top.” I said, walking over to the coffee machine, placing a pod in the brewer. I opened the cabinet above, pulling out two white mugs.

“Ah, thanks.” He grabbed the box, shutting the pantry door. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Bucky took down one of the hanging pans, setting it upon a burner of the correct size. With the flick of his wrist, he turned the dial of the stovetop. The crackle of the electricity like a rhythmic snapping until a flush of flames was heard. Bucky stood beside me as he baegan to mix the pancake batter, bumping my hip in attempts to get my attention. I bumped back.

“So I gotta question for you.” I said, setting the now filled mugs upon the counter top. I pulled out a stool, giving me a glorious view of his topless back. His skin glistened in the mid morning sun, his tattoo sleeve a stark contrast from his toned, taught back. The sizzling of the pancakes was the only sound between us.

“Go ahead.” he replied, bobbing to a tune in his head.

“Do you know what Banana Pancakes is?”

“Yeah, They’re my favorite. Why?” He peeked over his shoulder. I spurt in my coffee, bursting into a loud cackle admist my coughing. Bucky turned around, pan in one hand and spatula in the other.

“I take it that it means something completely different than actual pancakes.” He looked down at the pancakes that were sizzling in the cast iron pan.

“You could say that.”

“So what does it mean?”

“Not telling.” I sipped my coffe, hiding the smirk.

“Just don’t tell Sam.”

“No promises.” I chuckled. I eyed his behind as he turned around, finishing off the pancakes. It was a comfortable silence between the two of us. Nothing needed to be said. After ten minutes, he set the plates down, not before walking to the pantry and grabbing the maple syrup.

“So are you gonna tell about them?” I stared at his left side as I munched on my pancakes.

“Hmm,” he looked at me quizzically.

“Your tattoos.” I elbowed his arm lightly. His expression faded.

“I got them to cover up a scar. Steve actually was the one who inked me.”

“Wait, steve did this?”

“Yeah, turns out he’s pretty good at this stuff. There’s not enough income here for a tattoo shop though. So a friend of ours who went to college withhim let him borrow his shop a couple times.”

“Did you get the scar when you were deployed.” I asked tentitavely. He could only nod his head.

“I wasn’t paying attention. Lost some good people. I paid for it, though.” He pursed his lips. I couldn’t help but empathize with him, taking his left hand in my right one.

“I got tired of looking at my failure. Wanted to make something good out of it.” he shrugged, taking a bite of his pancake.

“And this spot?” I turned his arm, pointing to the blank spot on his arm.

“I’m saving it.”

“For what?”

“Dunno yet, something good, though.” He pecked my forehead. I hummed, letting my head fall to his tattooed arm, planting a kiss on the bicep.

“So, are we gonna talk about the whole sleeping with each other thing?” Bucky asked, his body tense. I looked back at my empty plate, contemplating what to say. I shurgged, finding myself without a thought on the subject.

“Do you think we should?” I looked back at him.

“So you’re saying that this isn’t a big deal?”

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying I think we’ve expressed ourselves enough. Though, I would love to see how you try to explain why you look like you got mauled by a vampire to the others.” I giggled as his hand came up to his neck rubbing the numerous marks I had left hte night before.

“I could say the same for you.” He shot back, a smile growing on his face. I laughed in response.

“I highly doubt you even know what concealer is; or how to use it.” I arched a brow. I didn’t even resist when he planted his lips on mine, his arms moving me to his lap.

“Do you really wanna do this?” he asked, tentative in his voice. As if he was scared I would actually say no.

“I really think I do, Barnes.” I cupped his cheek, my other hand carding through his hair.

“Alright then.” He wrapped my legs around his waist, abruptly standing up. The stool hit the floor with a hard thud, and I gave him a questioning look as he walked back up the steps.

“You knew the whole time didn’t you?” I said between the passionate lip locks.

“I’m not a hundred, (Y/N),” he smirked as he kissed me.

“You sly bastard.”

“You have no idea, doll.”

6 months later…..

At this point, I was living on both sides of the street. Almost half of my clothing was in Bucky’s home, and his in mine. There was a mish mash of items as well. He had bought me a toolbox, and was insistant that I learn how to fix things on both my vehicle and his motorcycle. A white helmet was an exact contrast against his black one. The only thing connecting them was a red star on the side as they sat together on the counter.

That wasn’t to say it didn’t go both ways. There were far more succulents in his home now, in little metal wine glasses sans a stem. They were scatted across his home, whether on his counter, window, or beside table. There was a lot more color in his home than the dark tones he had been using since he moved in. Red was most prevalent, given it was now his favorite blanket in the house. It was his only blanket, in a house he kept at sixty-five degrees farenhiet. I needed to work on that.

I no longer worked at the coffee shop, I owned it. Edna and Thomas had finally decided to retire, and left the buisness with me. I took on new help, a local teen, one of Tony’s little geniuses; Peter. He was an absolute sweetheart, took his job way too seriously at first, but he was starting to mellow out. I kept the same work ethic as Edna and Thomas would have, keeping it open mostly in the afternoon. When Thor’s brother moved to town, he asked if I could place him to work here. I obliged.

At first, Loki was extremely difficult and found the job beneath him. But after a stern talking to, and maybe hitting him with a book, he warmed up a bit. He stated that he had gone to culinary school, and I was adamant that he be incharge of the kitchen remodel of the back room, making it so that he could actually cook meals. He was elated at the idea, and had been wokring withhis brother to get the job done. As soon as it was, he hadn’t had a bad day at work since. It was like magic.

Today was no different. The midday rush was crowded, but nothing the three of us couldn’t handle. As peter would take orders, Loki cooked, and I would bring them their desired meal and payment. It was a well oiled machine. Of course, I would be sure to deliver coffee to the shop, every morning upon opening like clockwork. It also helped that I knew evryone’s orders by heart, and I had a wonderful someone to help bring the coffees over. Of course, he practically lived with me so it would seem natural that he would walk me across the street to my work.

As the midday rushed died off, we were left cleaning the dirty dishes, setting the vast amount of plates upon the rack. The bell chimed, signalling someone had entered. I strode out of the back kitchen drying my hands on my apron.

“I’m terribly sorry; but were closin-“ the words caught in my throat.

“Hi, Miss. Do you remember me?” Detective Danvers and her partner were standing in the room.

“Yes, Carol was it?” I closed the room to the back kitchen discreetly as possible.

“We have been mounting the evidence. And the time for the trial is fast approaching. We need you to come with us so that you can testify.” She pursed her lips, her hands shoved in her slacks’ pockets.

“Everything will be paid for. I know this is a dificult subject for you.”

“When do I need to leave with you?” i asked, taking a deep breath.

“Saturday.”

It was Friday.

I nodded my head, gnawing on my bottom lip. She pulled out a small buisness card, a number and an address on the blank side.

“Here’s where we are staying. Our room number is listed below. Don’t be afraid to call me.” She and her partner walked out the door. I looked down at the piece of cardstock, a sinking feeling seeping through my skin.

“Who were they?” Peter walked out the back kitchen. I shoved the card in my back pocket, turning to face him with a smile.

“Just people passing through. They were very sweet. Tell you what, you two can go home early today. My treat.”

“Really!” he almost dropped the plate, his extremely fast reflexes caught it before it fell to the ground.

“Thanks Ms, L/N!” he hugged me bfore he went back into the kitchen, “Hey Loki!”

I tuned out the rest. The small card in my pocket felt like I was withholding a bomb. I waited for them to both leave before I sat at one of the tables, holding my head in my hands as I could only stare at the card. I didn’t stop the tears at all.

I drove home, beginning to set aside clothing that would look professional for a trial. Something that wouldn’t make me look how I portrayed by the media. I was the informant for Danvers, not Rogg’s pet. I was essential to the investigation, not his toy. I went through hell, not his heaven. I woudl show him I wasn’t afraid of him, all while still being petrified.

“Y/n!” Bucky’s voice coudl be heard through the house, the echo reverberating all the way to the bedroom where I was. Each step he took made my stomach sink lower and lower. Dread filled my veins.

“Hey, Peter came by and said you closed early? Is sommething wrong?” He stopped in the doorway, processing the view of my clothing upon my bed, the suitcase of the floor, and my tearful expression.

“Hey, hey, hey” he envoloped me in his embrace, letting me cry into his chest.

“C’mon babe, you gotta talk me through this,” He echoed the words I would use when he had nightmares. His hand stroking the top of my head, his other rubbing along my back.

“I have to go.” I sniffled.

“Where, babe?”

“You know where.”

He pulled back, a hardened look on his face.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t be going.”

“Without me he goes free Bucky! I can’t let someone else face the same fate.” I rubbed my eyes. He backed away, hands on his hips.

“You wanna relive all that?”

“I have to.”

“No you don’t. You know it.” he pointed at me, his tone becoming harsh.

“I don’t trust him. After everything you said he did to you, you’re going back? You don’t think he’ll do that all over again, once he finds out what you did?”

“I’m in witness protection Bucky!”

“Then why was he here!? Explain that to me! Why was is it that I met that bastard? How are you safe closer to him than you are here!”

“I’m not arguing over this again! I made up my mind.”

“You’re safer here.”

“What would I be if I stayed?”

“Mine.”

I slammed the suitcase shut, holding back the tears.

“Get out James.” I said emotionless.

“Y/n-“

“Get. Out.” my lips quivered, I couldn’t look at him. I heard him mutter under his breath, stomping down the stairs.

“If something happens to you, don’t come crying to me!” He shouted from the front door, slamming it behind him. The thud echoed through the house, the reverb felt like a bomb went off.I stooped down to my knees, letting the tears flow like gysers. I spent the remainder of the evening alone, and packing what would last for the three weeks that I would be witnessing. Deep down I knew I wasn’t ready, I knew there would be a lot of tears to come. More than ever. Not having him with me would make it worse.

Still, I was done being afraid. I had to take a stand against him. If this was how I had to do it, so be it. My conscience is clear, he needed ot be put away. I did not care.

I dragged my suitcase down my steps, careful not to slip or fall. It was far more difficult with out the help of my boyfirend. I dressed in one of Bucky’s many band shirts and a pair of leggings, my hair in a ponytail. I oulled the card out of my jacket, pluggin the address into my phone for navigational purposes. With my phone in my waistband, I grabbed my cardigan and purse. I took one last look at my interior before walkingout my door.

A simple gaze across the street and I knew he wasn’t home. There was no life from his side of the street, the fog making it appear all the more dead. I sighed before walking to my vehicle. I opened the passenger door, tossing my cardigan and purse in the seat. I set my suitcase down, plugging my phone into the updated radio Bucky had installed in the classic car.

I shut the door, walking toward the trunk, opening the back door. I hauled the suitcase up, the heavy, hard-shelled object landing with a thud; making the car shake slightly. I shut the door with a thud, wiping the sweat off with the back of my hand. I looked up at my humble home. I knew I would return, but a gut feeling in me said I wouldn’t.

I walked back up to the passenger side, pullingout my keys from my purse. I strode up to my front door, triple checking that it was locked.

Just as I was about to turn around, I felt a hand upon my mouth, a cloth covering his hand. Colorform.

I held my breath, elbowing the assailant in the gut. He dropped the cloth, and I swatted it into one of the bushes near the door. I ran toward the car, desperate to grab the pepper spray I still kept in my purse. The man grabbed my torso, forming a chokehold upon my neck. I sturggled to break out of it, flailing widly in order to try and hit him to make the man break it. I pushed on my feet, sending us tumbling backward to the cement driveway with a thud.

I scrambled away from him, my lungs desperately clawing for oxygen. I got to the drivers door, opening it sluggishly. As I stood up, I felt a hand on the back of my head moments before it rammed me into the side of the bronco as hard as they could.

I was out before I even hit the pavement.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #marvel x reader #Biker!Bucky #biker!bucky x reader #escapism #biker!au #marvel!au #whee #I saw endgame and am dead inside

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rumbelleshowdown · 5 years ago

Text

Unpathed Waters, Undreamed Shores

Author: Moody Orange Prompt: This gifset

The rain was steady, constant. A thick curtain separating Belle from the safety of the village. The nearing sounds of thunder and flashes of light were promising that it was only going to worsen.

The cave they’d found shelter in was spacious enough, but the walls were damp and the air muggy and thick. The cave wasn’t the problem. The rain, only a symptom. No, her current issue was the man she had been forced to take shelter with: The Light One, Purveyor of Truth, Peace Bringer and Hope Maker, the Exalted One and Only Rumplestiltskin of the Front Lands.

As far as Bell is concerned, the man was nothing but trouble.

If not for him, she would’ve already tracked down the Yaoguai and defeated it, like she promised Mulan she’d do. If not for him, she would have made it back to the village before the storm hit, and be curled up in the inn with her book and a cup of tea, content on a job well done.

If not for him she’d have never found cover, either, but considering it was his fault she got caught in the storm to begin with she was electing to ignore that. It was all the Light One’s fault. All of it.

Thunder sounded in the distance, closer than before. The Light One stared straight ahead into the curtain of rain, unseeing. There was anxiety at the corner of his eyes, in the squeeze of his hand on his hilt. At every flash, every rumble, his grip tightened.

Belle, sitting as far into the cave as she could, was tired of pretending not to see him flinch.

“Not a fan of storms?” she asked.

He answered with the glare. Rumple was at the mouth of their shelter, leaning against the wall. If she were feeling charitable, maybe she’d offer to sit with him, or invite him closer to her.

“You have magic,” she pointed out. “You could whisk the storm away with a thought.”

“The price isn’t worth it,“ he sniffed.

Right. She rolled her eyes. He was always going on about how magic had a price. A steep one too, if you weren’t careful. It sounded very arbitrary to her.

“What’s the price for something so simple?“

He snorted. “Simple.”

“It’s just a storm,” she said, resisting the urge to throw a rock at his stupid head. “You’re said to be the strongest user in all the lands.”

“It’s not a matter of—look, it’s the logistics of the thing, okay?”

Belle stared at him. She was wet, sore, and trapped in a cave with the last person she ever wanted to see again. She was not in the mood for his half-answers. “Logistics.”

He sighed. With the forced calm of someone explaining for the thousandth time, he said, “The storm has to go somewhere, doesn’t it. Contrary to popular belief, things whisked away by magic don’t just disappear into nothing. They all go somewhere.”

“But that would mean you can’t create, either” Belle said, interested despite herself. “If, say, I wanted a book, or an apple, or—anything—magic couldn’t create it for me.”

“That’s...trickier.” He rubbed the side of his face. “Far easier to summon what you need. Less costly, too.”

“So what’d be the cost of ending this, then?”

“It’s not just a sprinkle of rain.” He grit his teeth as thunder sounded, loud and crushing above them. “Maybe I could wave my hand and break the clouds up, but this is the elements we’re talking about, a literal force of nature. It would take a lot of magic to even touch it. And—” he said, before she could interrupt. “Magic doesn’t take the price outright. It’s not a previously agreed upon transaction. Any number of things could happen, the least of which being I cause a drought because my magic is keeping any storm from forming at all.”

Belle leaned back against the wall, a frown deep on her face. It made a lot of sense, really.

“So you’re telling me that the great and mighty Light One can’t do away with a simple storm. Hm.” She hated how petulant she sounded but couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“I am saying,“ he said with exaggerated patience, “it’s best to just let things be as they are.“

“Right,” she scoffed. “Because that’s the most important thing.”

“Belle…”

“Don’t call me by my name as if—“ she swallowed, throat tight. “—As if we’re. Friends.”

The Light One turned away, saying nothing.

For a little while, at least.

“How is your leg feeling?“

Belle shifted. “No worse than before.” The pain wasn’t gone, but the makeshift brace he had put her in was holding. She could tell it was going to heal straight, at least. That deflated her a little—here she was, trying to pick a fight after he carried her to the cave and bound her leg. He had used magic, too, must have for the pain to have receded so much in the time they had been here.

“So elemental magic isn’t worth it,” she said, happy to hear her tone was less waspish, more genial. “But Mr. Best-To-Let-Things-Be thinks healing magic is fine?”

She waited for him to explain, perhaps to explain that the shock and pain of the injury was enough to pay for anything, let alone a little faster healing (it made sense to her), but he kept staring moodily out into the rain.

“What am I paying for it, anyway?” She tried again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

She pursed her lips, starting to get annoyed. “It’s my leg, I should know the cost.”

“My fault.”

She scoffed. “So is us getting caught in the rain but you’re not doing anything about that.”

“Belle, please. I’m happy to pay for this myself.”

She sighed. Bickering was only worth it when the other person was willing to engage. So what if he wanted to pay some nebulous price for healing her broken leg. Which he broke. Indirectly. She was the one who slipped.

But if he hadn’t been there, appearing in the woods of the East Lands, of all god damned places in the world just when she was finally—

“Why did you come back?”

His brows drew together in confusion. “This is my first time in the Cherry Oak Woods.”

Belle made a frustrated sound in her throat. “I mean—”

She waved her hand, gesturing between them as if that was the answer. He continued to look at her, not catching on.

That was just as well. What a stupid question; why come back. He never did come back, that was the problem, had always been the problem.

God, she was so foolish. So stupid. What a stupid girl.

Belle bit her lip to keep it from trembling. No more tears, she promised herself. Not over him.

And she wasn’t stupid—it had taken quite a lot of smarts to make it this deep in the woods, this close to where the Yaoguai was hiding. Quite a lot of bravery, too. The only one willing to come with her had been Mulan, but she couldn’t leave her post at the village, not when she was the only one defending it.

The Light One was still looking at her, waiting.

His hair was longer, a little more grey, but otherwise he looked exactly the same as when he appeared at her town. Same leather jerkin, same deerskin gloves. He didn’t look like a knight, certainly not like a powerful magic user. But his eyes were hard as steel, and warm as a summer rain. He knew such amazing things, could tell her stories of far off lands and kingdoms she had only read about in her books.

It was inevitable she’d be drawn to him like a breeze to an open window. She needed to stop blaming herself for that.

But it hurt when he’d walked away as if nothing between them mattered. As if she didn’t matter, like she was just another face in a long line of admirers.

“If you didn’t want me, you could have just said so.” She spoke to the cave wall in front of her, the stone craggly and uncaring.

He sighed, like he was expecting this. She was more than happy to deliver. “Belle—”

“You didn’t have to kiss back.”

“It’s not like that.”

“If I offended you somehow by inviting you to my room—”

“Just surprised me, not—”

“You shouldn’t have agreed to meet me if you were just—”

“I couldn’t take that from you!” He shouted, voice filling the space around them.

“Take what? I was offering!” She snapped back.

Belle turned to look at him. His face was red, his mouth open, teeth bared. She had liked his teeth, how they were a jagged line. She’d wondered what it would feel like to have them nip at her neck or shoulder, had wanted desperately to find out.

Rumple was the one to break the silence. “I didn’t want you—“

“Clearly.”

“I didn’t want you,” he said again, forcefully, “to give me something so precious out of misplaced gratitude.”

If Belle could stand, she’d have stormed out of the cave right then and there, weather be damned. “I did not,” she said, voice cold, “invite you to my room because I was grateful.”

“You don’t know what you were offering,” The Light One insisted. “What it’d have done to you.”

“Done to me.”

His blush was deepening, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. “I don’t make it a habit to leave ruined women in my wake. Just because I saved your town from the ogres doesn’t mean I get to bed the first pretty maiden who—”

“Ruined me?” her mouth opened, then closed. Of course that was the issue. Somehow she thought him above man’s fixation on a woman’s purity. “What makes your dick so special?”

It was his turn for his mouth to open, then close. He opened it again, but the only sound to come out was a very confused, “Ah?”

“I haven’t had a maiden head in years, Rumple,” Belle said. She narrowed her eyes. “You knew that, though. You were there when Gaston called me—”

“I know what he called you.” He shrugged, looking lost. “But—but Belle—you were a lady! The heir! The woman that everyone looked to for strength and guidance! Far too good for a man like me to—to—”

“To fuck?”

He made a distressed noise in the back of his throat.

“...Have sex with,” Belle amended. She watched him pull at the neck of his jerkin, likely questioning his high collar.

“It was wartime,” she explained. “Our land had been ravaged and despite what my father would have us believe, our stronghold couldn’t last. That kind of thinking tends to mellow even the most straight-laced traditionalist.”

Rumple nodded. He swallowed. “I didn’t, uhm. Realize the full. Nng. Circumstances. I apologize. I made a choice for you, and—I shouldn’t have.”

Belle looks down at her lap. She flexed the toes of her broken leg, first forward, then back. No pain at all.

“Think of all the fun we could have had if you’d just talked to me instead of running off.”

He huffed. “I do.”

She blinked. “What?”

He turned to look at her, his eyes soft and warm like sand pooling in her hands. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his voice a breath louder than the rain.

Something inside her chest unclenched. “I’ve missed you too.”

He stood, his figure impressive in the small cave. He walked over to her, slid down the wall so they were side by side. Rumple held out his hand, hesitating as if unsure she’d take it.

Belle wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through her fingers, so that’s exactly what she did. That is, slip her fingers through his. She squeezed. He squeezed back.

“You’ll be safe to walk in another hour or so,” he murmured, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to her temple.

She hummed, pleased. They sat for a long moment, Belle leaning into his side, him leaning into hers. He didn’t flinch when the thunder rumbled.

“How did you come across the Yaoguai?” she finally asked. “It doesn’t seem quite your style.”

Rumple raised his eyebrow. “King Hubert of the Rose Kingdom got in touch. His son disappeared around the time the first reports of the beast came through.”

“Did he try his hand at hunting it?” Belle sit up a little straighter. She loved a good mystery. “Wait, the Rose Kingdom? Do you mean Prince Phillip?”

“Yes. You didn’t happen to meet him…?”

“No, sorry. But I know a friend of his. Mulan said he was visiting her when—when he vanished. She was distraught.” It took a lot to crack Mulan’s outer shell.

Belle bit her lip. “If only we had been sooner. The Yaoguai is a fire demon. It won’t come out for days after a downpour like this.”

“We’ll wait it out, then go back to the village. We can regroup there and decide our next action.”

Belle kissed his jaw. He let her linger before turning his head and capturing her lips with his.

“Together?” she asked when they broke apart.

“Together.”

#rumbelle showdown #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #final round entry #author: Moody Orange #rumbelle showdown 2019

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