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fific7 · 4 years ago

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Dangerous and Divine - Part 20

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 Hopefully you’ve guessed by now that is my “Billy Russo Deserves Real Love AU” as I totally refuse to accept what happened in S2! The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

You’d just realised that - despite his little caveman episode earlier on - you didn’t ever want any man except Billy in your life.

Still gazing into his dark chocolate eyes, you heard yourself saying, “I think I’ll have that ring, please.”

You really wished you’d had your phone in your hand to take a photo of Billy’s face, because it was what they call ‘a picture’.

Never had you seen his mouth drop open so wide. He gaped at you for what felt like minutes, until he stuttered, “Th... the ring???” You nodded, “Yeah.”

He grabbed your hand and stood up, moving quickly out of the booth and dragging you along with him. Glancing at the waitress, who was looking very surprised, he said happily, “Sorry, miss. We’re gonna have to leave. Sorry ‘bout that.” She shrugged and turned away as Billy rushed to the door, you in tow.

Once outside you huffed, “Billy! Slow down! And what about lunch?!” “Nah, nah, nah. Lunch’s gonna have to wait!” “But I’m starving!” “Angel, I’ll get you lunch soon, I promise ya. Right now? I need to get you back to the apartment. Get that ring on your finger ‘fore you change your mind!”

He continued moving along the sidewalk at speed, gripping your hand tightly almost like he thought you’d try to get away. You were beginning to pant slightly as he was going at such a rate, his long legs eating up the sidewalk, and you laughed breathlessly, “Seriously, Billy, slow down!” He dropped back ever so slightly, “Nearly there, angel,” he grinned at you.

Eventually you arrived back at his apartment, Billy throwing open the door and then slamming it behind the two of you. Just as well he doesn’t have neighbours up here, you thought, otherwise they wouldn’t be very happy.

The next second, Billy’s mouth was on yours in a fiery kiss. He broke away, “Wait there, wait there!” He almost bounced over to the kitchen table and grabbed the ring box. Meanwhile, you were smiling at his goofy schoolboyish enthusiasm. Then he was back in front of you and dropping to one knee again, but this time looking happy as a clam. The ring box was held up towards you, open on this occasion, and its occupant sparkled at you as it caught the light.

A bit out of breath, he said your name in a serious tone before continuing, “....I’ve said all this to you before, but I’ll say it over and over again. As many times as you need me to say it. I want you in my life.... I’ll always want you in my life, angel. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t be without you.” The dark eyes stared intently into yours, “Will you marry me? Please?”

This time you reached out and stroked the hand which was holding the ring box, “Yes, Billy.... I will.”

The smile which appeared on his face would’ve put the sun to shame. He leapt up, fumbling a bit as he took the ring out of the box, taking hold of your hand and sliding it onto your waiting finger. It fitted perfectly. How’d he manage that? you thought.

But when you met Billy’s eyes they were full of tears. You immediately reached up and stroked his face, “Billy.... you’re crying.” He sucked in a big breath and wiped a hand across his eyes, pulling you into his arms and just holding you close.

“Thank you,” he whispered next to your ear. “I really hope you don’t feel like I pressurised you into this, angel. It means so much to me that you said yes. But just ‘cause I wanted it so bad doesn’t mean I ignored what you said before. Hey, we can still get to know each other while you’re wearin’ that ring on your finger. I just wanted something that said to the world you’re mine.”

“Big sap,” you smiled against his chest. He chuckled, “Yeah, I’ve already admitted I am,” before tipping your chin up with one long finger. His lips hovered over yours, “You’re my fiancée now.” You nodded, “Yes I am.” His mouth gently met yours and he kissed you... softly, slowly, with love.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a prolonged and passionate kissing session on Billy’s sofa, you two finally made it back out for lunch. Which mightily pleased you, as you were absolutely starving by now. Billy had your hand in his and he was happily swinging both your arm and his backwards and forwards as you two walked back to the same diner you’d been in earlier.

He’d asked if you wanted to go elsewhere, but you just couldn’t face going even a little bit further away - you were sure you’d faint from hunger if you did.

The same waitress looked round from where she was leaning on the counter as you and Billy went back in, and tracked you over to the same booth you’d occupied before. Whipping out her notepad and pen, she was once again drinking in Billy with her eyes and ignoring you so a bit pettily, you picked up the menu with a flourish so that the diamonds in your ring flashed as they caught the light.

Her eyes were drawn to it - as you’d expected them to be - and widened quite noticeably. Billy was smirking at you, as he knew exactly what you were doing. He repeated almost the same thing he’d said earlier, “And my fiancée will have.....”

You hid a grin and ordered steak and chips, and Billy smiled “I’ll have the same,” at the waitress, before switching his gaze back to you a millisecond later. She looked at you, her mouth set in an irritated line and turned on her heel without another word. “And two beers, please,” you called after her. “Okay,” she said over her shoulder. You grinned over at your fiancé - your stomach leapt as you thought of him as that for the first time - “Y’know, if she worked for me, I’d fire her.” Billy nodded, smirking, “I know you would, angel. And not just ‘cause she’s got the hots for your fiancé.”

You swiped the menu at his his head, and he ducked out of the way with a joyous chuckle. You could tell that Billy was almost incandescent with happiness, and you felt glad that you’d made him really smile again.

While waiting on your food, you had a ‘brilliant’ idea. With Billy watching on with an amused smirk on his face, you took a photo of your ring and sent it to Karen.

About 10 seconds later, your phone rang and you answered it to a long loud shriek of “Ohmygod-Ohmygod-Ohmygod!” “Hi Karen,” you replied, holding the phone away from your ear and smiling at Billy.

She took a breath before saying, “So you did it! What happened to slowing down and waiting a little bit, then?!” You laughed, putting the phone on speaker, “I came round to Billy’s way of thinking.” You heard a chuckle from her, then Frank’s voice in the background, “Whass goin’ on?” Karen filled him in on the new development, he yelled something unintelligible and then suggested you all meet up for a celebratory drink. “Did you hear that?” asked Karen, “Wanna meet up for a drink?”

You looked over at Billy with a raised eyebrow, he nodded, so you said to Karen you’d meet the two of them at a bar halfway between the two neighbourhoods.

After consuming your late lunch faster than the speed of light, you and Billy headed out from the diner (you couldn’t resist giving the waitress the brightest smile as she frowned over at you while Billy paid) and walked to the bar to meet your two friends. Just as you approached it, a body slammed into you and two arms got you in a bear hug. Initially freezing in shock, you relaxed as you heard Karen squealing into your ear.

You managed to extricate yourself and as you did so, she grabbed your left hand, pulling it up to her face and squealing again, “Oh...! oh my god, it looks so good on you!” Grinning, you replied, “Why thank you,” as you made your way into the bar. Heading to an empty table, Frank went to the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne, returning to the table with it in an ice bucket. “Didn’t really see Frank as a champagne kinda guy,” you whispered to Karen. She and Billy grinned as Frank said. “I heard that!” and you looked at him apologetically, “C’mon, Frank, when was the last time you drank champagne?” He smiled, but a bit sadly, “At my wedding.”

Oh no, you thought, feeling instantly guilty. However Frank laughed now, “But if this isn’t a good time to take my second hit of champagne, I don’t know what is!” He glanced fondly over at Billy, who seemed to have a permanent smile on his face, then back at you, shaking his head and smiling, “You two.... I can’t keep up with you!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After several pleasant hours of drinking, chatting and laughing, you’d all eventually left the bar and gone your separate ways. Billy was now mildly tipsy, and insisted on walking down the street with both arms wrapped right around you. Which was fine until you met people coming in the other direction, meaning you had to dodge round them in an awkward dance, pulling Billy this way and that while he just clung onto you like an extra-large koala bear.

Back at his place, you were amused to see Billy’s eyes beginning to close drowsily, so despite all the filthy promises he’d been whispering into your ear the entire walk back, you two ended up just falling into bed and going to sleep.

You weren’t sure how many hours later, but you started to surface from your deep sleep as you suddenly became aware of hands on your breasts and something hard between your legs. Your eyes slowly opened to see Billy’s big dark eyes looking down into yours and then his hand found its way to your ring finger, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Billy had somehow managed to part your legs and manoeuvre himself between them while you were sleeping on your side. Realising that Billy was already inside you and beginning to thrust, you whispered, “Billy, you cheeky big devil!!! I’m not awake yet,” but you only heard a low laugh from him as he carried on making love to you.

He was nuzzling into your neck, kissing and licking so you decided to take what was yours and grabbed two handfuls of his hair, pulling on it. He laughed out loud, “I guess you get to do that whenever you like now,” and thrust extra deep, making you gasp. “Definitely,” you managed to say as he rolled you over onto your back and pulled your knees up. His lips moved to your breasts, and your head went back onto the pillows as his tongue did its best work.

Suddenly he hit your sweet spot, and you hauled on his hair like you were trying to rein in a runaway horse, hearing an answering “Ow!” from him. You were just smirking to yourself when your climax hit you, and your mind went blank as you became completely immersed in it. Billy kept up his fast pace until you felt him shudder and release into you, his mouth biting down on your shoulder.

He moved onto his back, but somehow managing to stay inside you for the moment even as he softened. “Sweetheart.... you know I’m happy that you like my hair, but I truly don’t wanna be bald!” he laughed as he tried to get his breath back.

“I’ll buy you a wig!” you replied, “...sorry, Billy... not gonna stop pulling your hair, you know I’m not.”

Billy smiled lazily over at you, eyes staring into yours as he pulled slowly out of you, saying happily, “Yeah, angel, don’t worry... I know you’re not!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After breakfast, which involved a certain amount of kissing as well as the food items, you said to Billy that you needed to go shopping. You were just finishing a catch-up text with Jake, and noticed Billy reaching for his jacket. “No!” you blurted out, and he looked over at you in confusion and with a slightly hurt look on his face.

Billy seemed to need to be physically attached to you right now; he couldn’t stop stroking, touching, hugging, kissing you (with some licking thrown in there for good measure), so he looked really disappointed that you were insisting on going on your own. “I’ve just got a couple of extremely boring things to pick up, poppet and I don’t want to inflict that on you,” you soothed, going over to him for yet another long kiss.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he grumbled, “...how long you gonna be?” You stroked his face, “Not long, I promise.” A slightly happier look on his face, he sprawled out on the sofa and switched on the TV, so you sang out, “Bye!” and made your escape, a satisfied little smirk on your face.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Twenty minutes later, you were in Harry Winston’s Fifth Avenue store. The sales assistant was looking at you as if you’d been let out of a psychiatric unit for the day. You’d just handed her a ring made of out of a sliver of Post-It note, rolled up and sellotaped together. She took it from you, holding it between two fingers as if it might bite her.

You sighed, and decided to explain the situation to her as otherwise you didn’t think she’d take you seriously. “Look, my fiancé got me this ring....” extending your rock-laden finger towards her, “... but it was a complete surprise.” She now gave you a warm smile, recognising one of their very expensive engagement rings.

“And I want to get him a ring,” you carried on, “...and I want it to be a surprise for him too. Had to pretend I was just idly wrapping scrap paper round his fingers while I was watching something on Netflix.” It did look like something a kindergarten kid might’ve made, but you were quite proud of your improvised way of finding out Billy’s ring size.

Now she was really getting into it, leading you to a display case of big chunky men’s rings. “I’ve got something in mind, but I’m not sure you’ll have it in stock yet.” She gave you a quizzical look, and you described a ring you’d noticed recently in a fashion magazine; a fairly thin matt black titanium band, with two ultra-thin strips of platinum running round each edge. You knew that one of those chunky ones just wouldn’t look right at all on Billy’s long, slim finger.

She gave you a huge smile, “We’ve just launched some new collections, and that’s one of them! - our Midnight range. Please wait here, madam, and I’ll be right back.”

Soon you were on your way back uptown to Lenox Hill, and this time you were the one with a ring box hidden away out of sight.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

As you let yourself into the apartment and hung up your jacket by the door, you noticed that Billy had dozed off on the sofa. You loved watching Billy sleep, so perched on the edge next to him and stroked back a couple of strands of hair which had strayed onto his forehead.

He awoke at your touch, smiling sleepily up at you, “Angel, you’re back...”

You took hold of his left hand, and scrabbled around in your bag for the ring box. “Billy.... you remember you said you wanted something to show the world I belonged to you?” He gazed back at you warily, as if he thought you might’ve changed your mind while you were out. “Uh... yeah?”

“Well, snap!” you said, finally finding the box, opening it and then sliding the black band onto his ring finger.

Billy’s eyes widened, and mouth opened in surprise. “Wow!” he said, sitting up and looking at it closely, “I love it!” You breathed a sigh of relief: some guys didn’t even like wearing their wedding bands, never mind an engagement ring. “So you’ll wear it?” you asked. He nodded, “Uhuh, course I will, angel!”

He turned his hand this way and that, and you admired how good the slim band looked on his finger.

His dark eyes met yours, and he gave a low chuckle, “Ha, see...? Now you’ve got me on that leash, sweetheart!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

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janeykath318 · 3 years ago

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The Gardener Next Door

Darcy felt like she’d finally made it: finished her PhD and found a great job that allowed her to upgrade from her tiny apartment to her very own house in the suburbs. It needed a little work, but it had charm and personality and Darcy took several months making it her own. The neighborhood she lives in was mostly elderly people or young newlywed couples and the people were generally very friendly. Sweet Mrs. Messer brought her over baked goods regularly and shared the local gossip while Old Mrs. Richards brought her puppy over for regular visits. Before she’d lived there six months, she knew almost everyone on the block except for her next door neighbor on the left, who didn’t appear to be the sociable type.

Even Mrs. Messer hadn’t been able to find out much information, other than his name was something Grant and he liked to garden and preferred to be left alone.

“He must be one of those grumpy old hermit types,” Mrs. Messer sighed. “Never answered the door when I went to bring him a welcome to the neighborhood pie. I wonder what happened to the poor man to make him so wary of people.”

“I don’t know, but maybe you could try leaving some on his front porch with a friendly note. Once he’s discovered the glory of your chocolate chip cookies, he might just loosen up a little.” Darcy suggested.

This cheered up Mrs. Messer and she scurried off to start baking.

Mysterious Neighbor Dude clearly preferred a motorcycle as his form of transportation, but he always pulled right into the garage, so she was never able to get a glimpse of him without his helmet.

As spring went on, Darcy started spending more time outside in her cozy lounge chair, from which she started noticing her neighbor working outdoors. Even from the distance she could see by the way he moved, he was still in the prime of life and he appeared to be a workout fiend, judging by the size of his shoulders and arms.

He wore a big floppy straw hat that kept the sun off, which was probably a good thing because he was working in his garden almost nonstop on sunny days. It was kind of fascinating watching the progression from bare dirt to tiny plants. So far, their only interaction was a friendly wave when he caught her staring and Darcy was dying for more, but he’d never approached her and she didn’t want to invade his privacy.

But then she came home one day to find a big basket of lettuce and radishes on her front porch.

There was a note with them:

“Sharing some lettuce with you. It makes delicious salads. Have a nice day!”

The note was not signed and Darcy squinted at it for quite awhile like it would suddenly start talking and reveal its author, but alas, no such luck.

The lettuce did make excellent salads and she thought about her hunky neighbor with every bite.

Mrs. Messer came over very excitedly to report that the cookies had been taken and she too had been given a basket of lettuce.

“Looks like you were right, Darcy. The man just needed a little kindness. I wonder if he likes lemon bars…..”

As the weeks went by, the gifts of veggies continued, varying as different things came into season. Peppers, carrots, tomatoes, and green beans all arrived steadily and were either quickly eaten or given to Darcy’s vegetarian co-worker.

Darcy started replying to his notes on the fifth basket and soon they had a funny banter going back and forth, filled with vegetable puns.

“Lettuce be friends?” She wrote on the note left in the empty basket which had previously held plump red tomatoes and would be supplying her with BLTs for a long time.

“Yes, peas!” he’d replied on the next basket, which did contain the mentioned vegetable.

“Why are you so cute and unreachable?” Darcy murmured to herself, stashing the note away with a smile.

She laid out sunbathing in her favorite bathing suit the next day and since there was no fence between their backyards, the hot neighbor dude got a nice view. This time it was Darcy who caught him staring and waved happily, pretty sure he was blushing. Ugh. He was just too adorable. She wanted to March over there and plant one on him, pun slightly intended. He briefly took off his hat to wipe sweat off of his face and she caught a glimpse of dark hair and beard. Dang it, that was a GOOD look!!

The notes and vegetable puns continued, but now they were accompanied by cute sketches of cartoon vegetables representing the various neighbors. Darcy absolutely loved it and it proved her suspicions that the so-called hermit was much more observant than he seemed.

“So you’re an artist as well as a champion gardener? Is there anything you can’t do?” She wrote on the next note.

“Plenty,” he replied back. “I sure can’t bake and I can’t seem to be able to remember how to speak when my pretty neighbor is around.”

Darcy was floored, but thrilled, and wrote and rewrote seven replies before she finally figured out how to word her response.

“Here I was thinking you didn’t want to talk to me. Guess we’re both disasters at communicating.”

The response to this rang Darcy’s doorbell the very next evening and she opened it to see her neighbor, up close and personal, looking all kinds of shy and adorable and holding out a bouquet of gorgeous flowers that she knew came from his yard.

“Aww, how sweet!” She exclaimed, accepting the flowers eagerly. “They’re beautiful. Nice to finally meet you……….”

Her voice trailed off as she recognized the gorgeous and famous face in front of her.

“Steve,” he finished quietly, almost apologetically. “I’m sorry for the secrecy. I’ve been hiding out living the retired life and trying my hand at new hobbies.”

He looked even more nervous now, probably thinking she was going to either throw him out or go yelling to the neighbors.

“Please, come in,” she told him, heart pounding. “I’m Darcy Lewis, astrophysicist and former Avengers wrangler. I did NOT recognize you from across the yard with the dye job. It’s a good look, though. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks,” Steve sighed, relaxing a touch. “I think I remember seeing you yelling at Tony a few times. It was pretty neat, the way you made him cower.”

“I learned early on, Tony needed a firm hand or he would never eat or sleep and bad things happened,” Darcy recalled, with a pang of sadness. “You guys saved the world,” she added. “I think you’ve more than earned your privacy and a peaceful retirement.”

Steve cracked a crooked smile. “That’s very gracious of you. Some days, it’s a pretty big struggle for me to believe that, thinking about everyone we lost. Gardening’s been keeping me sane.”

“And you’re doing a fabulous job with it. I’ve never had such perfect tomatoes,” Darcy told him with a smile.

“I was pretty proud of them,” Steve admitted, then he grew serious again and looked at her very earnestly with those gorgeous blue eyes.

“Darcy, do you still want to…”

“Yes,” Darcy interrupted. “Heck yes. I like you, Steve. I didn’t really know you apart from Captain America before and I’m finding regular Steve to be more irresistible than Mrs. Messer’s lemon bars.”

Steve chuckled and started to turn pink, which was even cuter seen close up.

“Given how amazing those are, that’s high praise,” he remarked, with a twinkle in his eye. “Looks like I’ve got a lot of missed opportunities to make up for.”

They shared another long look and Steve moved into her personal space with intent-to-kiss written all over his face.

Darcy was very much down for that and nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around him. The pent up feelings resulted in a pretty intense kiss, which left her weak in the knees and practically hanging onto Steve for dear life.

“Well that was worth it,” she whispered, when she’d caught her breath. “I’m so glad you didn’t actually go to the moon. There’s been rumors.”

Steve full on laughed at that, a joyous sight which she’d never witnessed before, but was very glad to finally see. His eyes crinkled, his face lit up and he looked so adorably cute, her heart turned into a puddle of goo.

“Don’t know where they came up with that one,” he remarked, shaking his head in amusement. “But I have no intentions of going to the moon. I’d rather stay here with you.”

“Good, because I need some more of those green beans, ASAP,” Darcy replied mischievously, barely refraining from making an eggplant joke. She didn’t want to be TOO forward.

“How about you come over and I can give you the grand tour?” Steve suggested.

“Yes, peas.” She responded, making him laugh again.

Before long, the neighbors were gossiping again, this time over the shocking sight of “Mr. Grant” making out with Dr. Lewis right in his backyard.

“I knew it!” Old Mrs. Richards chuckled, petting her dog gleefully.

“I’ll volunteer to make their wedding cake!” Exclaimed Mrs. Messer.

#shieldshock #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #retired! Steve #fluff

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clair-void-ance · 4 years ago

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Richard Hayden Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Richard Hayden x Reader

Word Count: Roughly 3,180 words

Author’s note: Hey! This is definitely something I didn’t expect to write lmao. I haven’t been in a writing mood lately, but after getting into David Spade again I knew I had to throw something together. Good news though! That means that I’m finally motivated to work on my other WIP’s! So expect those requests to be finished soon :)) Your girl threw this together pretty fast ngl, so hopefully it doesn’t suck lmaoo

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

If there is anything that Richard loves to do, it’s activities that leans more on the physical side. As much as he loves academic pursuits, he can get tired of trying to maintain the persona of ‘the bookworm/nerd.’ When it comes to activities he enjoys doing with you, it really just depends on what type of person you are. If it’s physical, his go to activities include fixing up vintage cars, dancing, cycling, painting, and whatever else you enjoy doing. If it’s more mental, then he enjoys laying back, reading, doing crafts, or learning something new with you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

If their is one thing that Richard admires about you physically, it’s your hair and eyes. Being a person interested in astrology, Richard knows that the eyes and hair can tell a lot about a person’s personality and self. And your’s show a person with a breathtaking personality.

And something that he really loves about you is your ability to be accepting, creative, passionate, and unabashedly yourself. You never failed to accept all parts of him, whether they were good or bad. And when you figured out the situation with this hair, you never once faltered on your love and acceptance for him. Which he appreciates more than you know.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Richard has definitely been at some low points in his life. Whether it be with his career, personality, or looks, he's been through it all. So if there's something be knows well, it's definitely a person in dire need of love and support.

When you're feeling down Richard focuses on the main thing you need at the moment. As much as he wants to listen and be supportive, he first has to deal with your body's needs. Having an anxiety attack? Do some breathing exercises, ground yourself, and take a bite of a lemon. Chest pain and irritable stomach from holding in all your negative emotions? Take a second to dance, cry, and release the negative thoughts. Then, when all that is said and done, he'll sit down with you and figure out the best way to solve your problems.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Being a small town, settle down type, Richard has always seen you two having a small wedding with all your loved ones followed by having a few children. Although he never really planned to find 'the one,' you turned his life around and showed him that he is good and secure enough to finally start living the life he always wanted. And now that he knows you'll love him forever (hair or no hair), he's confident in the quiet life you'll soon live.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or are they rather passive?

As much as he wants to be dominant and feel in control in the relationship, we all know his scrawny ass could never 😔. And we all know he would love to have someone dominate him. That being said, he loves the challenge that comes with both of you fighting for dominance. But he’s more than willing to calm down and allow you to take control more often than not.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How is their fighting?

Being the prick he is, especially with his mars in aries, it will definitely take Richard a while to calm down and discuss arguments with your. While fighting, he is vicious and acts like a wounded animal. None of it is really intentional, he just gets too heated too fast and gets caught up in his emotions. That, added to an inability to express his emotions properly at the moment he feels them, makes him a bit difficult in fights.

That being said, once he calms down and feels the guilt of his actions he immediately comes back to you and spews out an apology. If your fight was especially bad, he’ll end up setting up a nice dinner for both of you and let out a heartfelt apology. He loves you with everything he has in him, but he’s still dealing with processing and expressing a variety of feelings (plus he’s a man lmao).

G ratitude - How grateful are they they in general? Are they aware of what there s/o is doing for them?

With his string of luck and life choices, Richard is very grateful for all of the good things he has in his life; especially you. He understands first hand how fast life can turn sour, so he doesn’t take a second of his life for granted once he meets you.

He knows how much effort you’ve put into y’alls relationship and is aware of how much of impact you’ve had on his life and personality. And for everything that you do, he is deeply appreciative. And he tries to return that energy back to you 100% every day you two are together.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

After you figured out his secret about his hair, he knew that he could trust you with everything else. The only thing that he keeps to himself really are secrets that deal with surprises for you. Besides that, he shares relatively everything that concerns him.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

In a way, you both change different aspects of each other; while Richard makes you more sarcastic and ambitious, you make Richard more laid back and wholesome. But when you mix, there seems to be a harmonious balance of the perfect personality.

Furthermore, you help each other work through personal trauma and make sure that the other isn’t falling into a bought of negative emotions. That strengthens your relationship while also making you both better versions of yourself.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Being the sarcastic prick and insecure person he is, Richard is definitely someone who gets jealous easily. To him, you could have anyone you wanted; someone with hair, a better build, and definitely with a better personality. And when he sees you with a man that possess all of those things, he tends to get pretty jealous.

But he never takes that out on you. He knows that you would never cheat on him or avoid communicating your intentions. When a situation like this comes up, he usually takes a moment to contemplate his insecurities, stews in it for while, then brings it up to you. When that’s all said and done though, you both usually curl up and remind each other how much you both love and appreciate each other.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? +

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Overall, Richard is actually a pretty decent kisser. He moves in just the right ways and knows how to avoid being excessive. Additionally, with the love that he puts behind every kiss, he makes you feel loved and appreciated with every languid motion.

The first kiss you two shared was after a company party when you took him home to watch a movie. You both got bored of waiting around and doing nothing at the party, so you left to do something more fun together. After sitting on the opposite ends of your couch, you both started to slowly inch closer and closer to each other. By the time you both started cuddling together, he felt as though the time was perfect to lean in and risk it all.

And when he gripped your chin, pulled you in, and placed a slow kiss to your lips, you both knew that you wanted to turn this official.

That being said, he still wanted your consent on if things would truly turn official or not. After letting out a whispered confession of love to you, you both thought it wise to discuss your newly developed relationship.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose?

Getting married is a definite for Richard. He doesn’t care what kind of wedding it is or when it happens, he just wants everybody to know that you’re his and that he’s yours.

Not one to be overly dramatic or public about an important moment, Richard proposes to you while you two are on a camping trip together in the mountains. You had both just woken up and began drinking your coffee on a log by one of the lookouts. With the rising sun hitting your eyes an hair in all the right points, he knew that he had to propose; it was the perfect moment. Not even his nerves could prevent him from doing it.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

With this man’s wit and sarcasm, he never fails to have new and creative nicknames for you. Usually though, your nicknames depend on the type of mood he’s feelilng.

Sarcastic? My sweet turtle dove. Affectionate? Sweetheart. Playful? Sugar/Angel Face.

It just depends :)

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When in love, Richard can act like a wistful and love-struck romantic. From afar, Richard can be seen sending you longing and affectionate looks. Furthermore, when you two are near each other, people pick up the way he always drifts really close to you and continuously reaches towards your hand.

While he has a tendency to act aloof and uncaring, Richard does make it a priority to tell you how much he loves you (as well as how radiant you look to him) at least twice a day. He never wants you to feel as though he doesn’t think you are anything less than deserving of all the love you can handle. Even if you two fight, he always puts aside his pride and remembers to tell you that he loves you.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

When it comes to PDA at the beginning of you two’s relationship, Richard wasn’t too much of a fan. He was still stuck in the mindset that he had a reputation to uphold; he couldn’t be seen being soft and mushy, he had to be suave and respectable. But as you guys’ relationship progresses he begins to appreciate showing you love no matter the situation.

If you were to ask one of his coworkers on how he’s changed since being with you, they would definitely point out the fact that he has softened up considerably. He doesn’t care too much about his ‘reputation’ as much since he only focuses on showing you affection during the moments where it fits. By the time you two create a well-rounded relationship, he begins to casually brag about you and how you are the most fantastic significant other anyone could meet. It gets a little annoying, but people find it endearing do a certain extent. (it’s still Richard we’re talking about here lmao)

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship

He understands astrology and a few other personalty based aspects of people, so he acknowledges all of your quirks down to a ‘T.’ He knows your communication style, love language, argument method, preferences, etc. just by a birth date and a few other factors.

That being said, he also knows what things are particularly difficult to you, which helps when you aren’t able to communicate how you’re feeling on most occasions. (He has yet to learn how to solve his own problems with this quirk though)

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Once Richard knows that you love and support him unconditionally, he becomes the sappiest, most romantic person you’ve ever met. Although he has his cliché moments, Richard is usually creative with his methods on making you happy or keeping your relationship interesting. Most of which have to do with the office where you two work *wink* *wink*

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Being a man of high ambition and deep respect, Richard would love to help you reach your goals; no matter how big they seem. Especially if you are the same way with him.

He knows how much success and respect can mean to a person, so he will do anything to help you achieve the things you want. One aspect that he likes most about you guys’ relationship, is that you both constantly work towards bettering each other. He believes that you were both meant for great things. And if you associate great things with living off-grid and become self-sustainable, then he’ll help you achieve that.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Richard appreciates a sense of routine in his life and relationship- especially when it comes to his well-being. But this is mainly linked to his underlying trauma from childhood and career. Not that he’ll ever admit this though, he’s got a reputation to maintain.

He’s never really been given the opportunity to feel free enough to be himself and act childish. It was always, ‘act too mature and professional’ or ‘be cold, distant, and ambitious.’ When you came along though, he finally felt secure enough to open up and be himself. Which, of course, led to trying new things in your relationship. He’s down to try anything if it makes you happy; cause when you’re happy, he’s happy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Deep down, Richard is not the most empathetic person. He’s had to rely on himself for almost his entire life, so being able to read and cater to another person isn’t the easiest for him. Reading social cues on the other hand, is. That being said, his love for you runs deep and he’s willing to just about anything to make you happy. He’ll take notice of the little things you like and the gestures you’ve come to appreciate, and repeats those.

Additionally, he understands that you aren’t responsible for his healing. He knows that he is responsible for a huge majority of it, so he takes note of your empathetic nature and uses it to heal not only himself, but you as well.

When that’s all said and done, Richard comes to learn a lot about both of you and shocks all of his associates with how close you two have become over the years.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Richard values your relationship as much as he values air. Which definitely says something. The man doesn’t care that much about anything when it comes down to it (publicly that is), but he does care for you. And his is willing to quit his job, move across the globe, or do anything you wish just so that he can make you happy for even a second.

After he met you, nothing really mattered as much as you guys’ relationship. To him, those things were put on the back burner and wait. As Charles Aznavour sang, “Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears; And make them all my souvenirs; For where she goes I've got to be. The meaning of my life is she.”

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon

Richard has actually always wanted to have a child. Since he never had a father present in his life and repressed his inner child, he has always wanted to prove that he was better than his parents. That being said, he’d love to have a little girl over a son. Mainly because he knows she will bring out the softer side in him.

All in all, he just wants to nurture and care for a child that he knows will grow up to have a stunning personality and life.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

At heart, Richard is a man with a deep, passionate, and affectionate nature. He loves being close to you and enjoys laying back and spending some personal time together. He loves all sorts of kisses he receives from you. Whether they be short and sweet or long and languid, he loves them all.

When it comes to the long and languid ones though, he loves to do them while you’re cuddling together.

Is it because he knows it’ll lead to something more? Maybe....but he’ll never admit that.

Plus, sometimes he just like being held so he knows he’s cared for.

Y earning - How do they cope when they're missing their partner?

Let's be honest, Richard can become a bit of a prick when you're not around. Since you both work together, everyone notices the day's where you’re absent; cause his toxic energy goes through the roof. Although he isn't insufferable, he definitely reverts back to his sarcastic and aggressive method of communicating and acting. But he can't really help it; (his mars is in scorpio 🙄 jk jk lmao) he doesn't have someone around to treat him right y'know? When he's alone though, he tends to get a bit melancholic and revert to sitting around and waiting for you. It isn't his proudest moment in life, but he’s trying to get used to the fact that you might not always be there. With that in mind, he copes the best way he knows how: by occupying his mind. Which is usually by working on his cars or cycling.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

Similar to his career and the things he aspires to do in life, you are something that Richard will go great lengths for. Although Richard knows when to quit, committing to a task is something that isn’t unfamiliar to him. He will work night and day to please you and keep you happy.

Need him to take the day off to help you with a task or take care of you? Done with no hesitation. Need more emotional support because of recent events? He’ll drop everything in seconds. To him, nothing is worth ruining the relationship you two have worked so hard for.

#x reader #tommy boy #richard hayden x reader #david spade #david spade x reader #richard hayden #richard tommy boy #richard hayden imagine #tommy boy x reader #tommy boy 1995 #tommy boy imagine #fanfic

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c-estmabiologie · 4 years ago

Text

nine terrible cups of tea (and at least one equally terrible cup of coffee) | the haunting of bly manor fic

Dani tries to master the art of making a proper cup of tea. It goes just about as well as you'd expect. (1987 - 1994)

Also on AO3!

One

“Really you could just throw a tea bag into your mug, pour some water on top, and call it a tea. But we’re better than that.”

Dani isn’t convinced but she tries her best to follow the steps as Jamie patiently describes them. She talks about making tea with the casual confidence of someone who believes that Dani can will a good cup of tea to exist. As if this isn’t the first time that she has tried to hold Dani’s hand through the process. Dani’s pretty sure it won’t be the last time either, but she tries to wield some of Jamie’s confidence as her own.

“If you want to be really proper, you can even warm the pot first with some hot water from the kettle and, you know, just dump it down the sink.”

Dani swirls the hot water around inside her teapot, feels it warm under her palms. It’s nice. Wasteful, but nice.

“What does this do?”

“No idea. Somebody probably decided that it makes the tea taste better.”

“Okay,” She drops two teabags in. One for herself, and one for the pot, according to Jamie who’s not leaving tea totally up to chance and Dani’s efforts; her arm is soft and cool against Dani’s as they stand shoulder-to-shoulder at their kitchen counter, each with their own pot of steeping tea.

“Now here’s where you might make a mortal enemy of a Brit: adding milk to your cup before or after the tea.”

“Does it have to have milk?” Dani asks, thinking Aren’t there people who drink their black tea black, like coffee? That’s a thing, right?

Dani can feel Jamie twitching a smirk beside her without having to look.

“It has milk if you’re making English tea.”

She remembers the looks she got from Hannah and Owen and even the children whenever she’d made an attempt at tea. She can’t remember when she’d added the milk. Jamie, for sure, must be exaggerating the offense.

"But which one’s the right way?”

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t really care as long as it’s the right amount of milk.” Dani realizes that Jamie’s already gone ahead and poured her own cup without her, milk and all, and she’s missed it. She pours her own tea and splashes in milk until its colour matches the tea in Jamie’s cup.

They look the same to Dani.

“Alright,” Jamie says, “let’s have a taste shall we?”

They taste the same to Dani, but Jamie’s brow furrows just a little as she takes the cup away from her lips. And then she starts laughing.

“Okay, how is that possible? We did the exact same thing!” Dani takes another sip from her own cup to prove her point. It tastes fine! It’s tea!

“I really have no idea, Dani,” Jamie’s still laughing. “You’re just shite at making tea.”

Two

Jamie's been trying to relax with a book in the bedroom when she hears the beeping coming from another room. Just three little beeps, then nothing. A minute later, the three beeps chirp through her focus again.

When it happens a third time, she finally puts down the book to shout.

“What is that?”

“What’s what?” comes Dani’s reply from across the apartment. Then the beeps make themselves known once more.

Then: “Oh. It’s the microwave. I got distracted.”

Owen had bought them a microwave as a housewarming gift. It was a convection microwave, he’d told them proudly, which apparently made it special because you could microwave your food on a metal tray if you wanted. The idea was that they could warm up their takeaway faster, or cook frozen dinners (Owen’s very generous way of chiding them for both being awful cooks). Jamie hated it. It was big and ugly and had faux-wood paneling on the side. She’d rather stick to making burned stews on the stovetop.

Dani appears in the doorway with a mug in each hand. She holds out one mug to Jamie.

“I made you tea.”

“What, in the microwave?”

Dani shrugs and sips from her mug.

“No.”

“It’s fine—”

“Absolutely not.”

Three

It’s a quiet-ish day at The Leafling and, to be honest, Dani is sort of enjoying the peace of arranging flower displays and curling ribbons. The sun is warm through the windows.

Jamie is laid up in bed with some sort of cold. She’s being a surprisingly big baby about it, too, Dani is surprised to realize. Her wife doesn’t like it when she can’t be useful.

Speaking of certain wives who shouldn’t be up, Dani can hear steps coming down the stairwell that connects the shop to their apartment. The shop’s back door pushes open a moment later and Jamie appears with jacket on and her curls stuff up into a hat. She’s pale and her nose is pink and tender-looking around the nostrils.

“What are you doing down here?” Dani demands in her most teacherly voice, but Jamie clearly has plans to go out, not back upstairs.

Jamie’s voice is raspy and hoarse.

“I need to go out to the shops and get some more milk. Ours is off.”

“I had some in my cereal this morning and it was fine.”

Jamie coughs into her collar.

“The date on it’s fine. But I add it to my tea and it’s curdled.”

“Oh.” Dani’d left the tea steeping for her before she’d come downstairs.

Then: “It’s probably the lemon doing that. In your tea, I mean.”

“There’s lemon in my tea?”

Dani nods. “There’s honey in it, too. It’s supposed to help with your sore throat.’

Jamie sighs, then sniffles, then seems to deflate a little.

“I’m gonna be honest: it sounds absolutely disgusting.”

But Dani insists that she at least give it a try (without milk), that it will make her feel better (it does, a little, admittedly), and that, who knows, she might like it (she does not).

Four

Summer heat hits hard, and The Leafling doesn’t have air conditioning. The ceiling fans do nothing more than push hot air around the shop. The plants slump in their pots (which annoys Jamie), and fat houseflies keep finding their way indoors, only to bang themselves relentlessly against the windows until they fall dead on the sills (which annoys Dani). Everything is slightly damp with sweat or condensation.

“This is something my ex-almost mother-in-law used to make,” Dani says, stirring the ice around in the pitcher with a wooden spoon.

“You know there’s probably a less complicated way to say ‘ex-almost mother-in-law’.” Jamie says. Her hair is sticking to her neck, and her gardening gloves feel like they’re being peeled off of her skin as she takes them off.

“She used to make it for my, you know, Eddie and me in the summer when we were kids,” Dani hesitated. “I don’t know. It just always reminds me of the best parts of summer.”

But when she looks up Jamie has a glass and is holding it against her cheek.

“You know,” she says, “I do know what iced tea is. It’s not exactly a foreign concept.”

Jamie is thoughtful as she drinks the tea slowly.

“So,” she says finally. “This is what makes Poppins think of summer.

“It’s kind of a funny taste isn’t it? Cold tea on purpose.”

Jamie gets up and pulls Dani into a hug that’s nice, but not altogether pleasant — their skin clings together and comes apart audibly in the heat and they both smell very strongly of themselves.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Jamie says into her shoulder.

“I’m going to go upstairs and put the kettle on.”

Five

“What is it?”

The gift sits on their kitchen counter, out of place and mysterious with its glass-and-stainless steel modernity next to their wooden cutting boards, cluttered and kind of oily spicy jars, and that obnoxious faux-wood panelled microwave.

“Owen says it’s a French press. He was really excited about some Danish company. Said it’s apparently great for beginners.”

Jamie makes a note to herself to somehow ask Owen to stop giving them gifts for their kitchen.

“I didn’t think Owen drank coffee.”

Dani looks thoughtful, “I don’t think he does.”

Owen’s gift doesn’t come with instructions, and neither one of them wants to ring Owen up to ask for help. Dani takes charge, grinding the coffee beans (which Owen had also generously provided) in the spice grinder… and then washing out the grinder and starting again when Jamie points out that the fresh grounds reek of coriander.

They aren’t sure if they’re supposed to give it all a stir once the water’s been added. Or when to press the plunger. Or how long it’s supposed to sit. Their first attempt produces faintly coffee-flavoured water. Their second, a grainy, chewable mess.

The French press gets relegated to a high shelf above the stove, behind a fern. Eventually it will pinch-hit as a flower pot and Dani will love how the glass reveals the root systems buried in the soil.

Six

“This tea tastes weird.”

It’s Dani who says it.

Jamie looks up from the arrangement she’s been working on. It’s wedding season and The Leafling has been swamped with orders for bouquets and table arrangements. Jamie’s been going back and forth on this particular order all week with a bride who seems unhappy no matter how precisely she tries to follow the bride’s vision. Frankly, it’s been pissing her off (the last time she’d come in and rejected Jamie’s work, Dani had sensibly stepped in to take over the conversation before Jamie could get their shop shut down for punching a customer).

“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally drink vase water?”

She picks up her own cup and takes a sip. The milk must have been added too soon and seized up the brewing. The tea tastes like nothing. Dani is watching her.

“Yeah, this is pretty bad.”

Dani says nothing.

“Oh shut up. I’m allowed to have off days, too, you know.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Dani says, but she’s smiling.

Seven

Jamie somehow manages to drink vase water.

Neither of them can explain how it got into her tea cup or where her actual tea had gone.

Eight

“Hey.”

The word is spoken into Jamie’s hairline and followed with a kiss. She smiles, half-awake, and reaches to pull Dani to her so she can kiss her properly. Her hand jostles a tray and something makes a precarious, jangling sound.

“What’s this?” she rubs at her eyes. It’s still mostly dark in the room.

“You’re up early.”

Dani’s at the side of their bed with a serving tray. She’s barefoot, still in her pyjamas and, from what Jamie can tell, still pretty sleepy herself.

"What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion.” Dani places the tray on the bed and climbs in next to Jamie slowly, careful not to tip anything on the tray.

"I just thought it would be nice to have the morning together. I bought scones.” Dani warps her voice around the word in a way that is definitely not the American pronunciation, but just as definitely not a passable approximation of Jamie’s accent. As Dani hopes it would, it makes Jamie smile.

“I see that. Scones.”

“Mm-hmm. And biscuits,” Dani never could manage that one without the secret sort of laugh that says that the Rich Tea biscuit that she’s picking up off a plate will only ever be a cookie to her.

It’s all lovely. The biscuits, the morning, Dani: lovely.

And then, of course, there is the matter of the tea.

A few problems that meet Jamie immediately as she takes a tentative sip. First, it’s cold. Second, even with what looks like an alright amount of milk (Jamie notes that Dani’s been getting better on this front)...it’s bracingly bitter.

She bravely takes another sip to avoid spoiling the otherwise perfectly cozy moment. Something solid dislodges itself from the bottom of her cup and hits her wetly on the nose. Jamie can’t help but splutter a little, and the thing plops back into the cup. It’s the tea bag.

“Uh, Dani?” Jamie realizes that she’s poking a bruise a little here, and Dani looks so happy next to her, breaking off pieces of scone with her fingers.

“How long was the tea left sitting?”

Dani’s brow furrows.

“I’m not sure how early you wake up these days,” she says. “I may have made it… a while ago. Is it okay?”

Jamie gently places the cup back onto the tray.

“It’s just a little on the cool side, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Dani tests the side of her cup with the back of my hand, as if to memorize what a little on the cool side means to Jamie.

“I can just warm it up in the microw—”

“ No. Let’s just enjoy our morning.”

Nine

“Does anyone who drinks this stuff actually enjoy it?”

They’re in bed, limb flung loosely over limb. On the TV screen, a woman sits tensely under a tree while another sticks her bare arm right into a beehive. Bees swarm up her sleeves and into her undone braid.

“I think it’s pretty nice,” Dani says, “It’s peppermint. It’s supposed to be relaxing.”

Jamie curls up against Dani’s chest. She cradles her cup between them, more for its warmth than for any interest in drinking it.

“It tastes like hot toothpaste.”

On the screen, the bee charmer has returned with a mason jar full of honey. She invites the other woman to have a taste.

“Do you think they’re gonna get together?” Dani says. Jamie considers the scene for a few seconds.

“Yeah. But it’s a little weird to go after your dead brother’s fiancée like that isn’t it?”

Her own mug empty on the bedside table, Dani picks up Jamie’s abandoned tea. It’s still warm and it’s left a warm spot on the blankets between them.

“I guess it’s a little weird. I still want them to get together.”

Jamie makes a sound that might be agreement, but her eyes are drifting closed.

She’ll fall asleep before the movie’s over. Dani will fill her in on the details she’s missed over breakfast, before they have to return the tape to the video store.

Ten

“It’s so nice to have someone cook for me for a change,” Owen says, pleasantly. It’s not often that he’s been able to come around to their place over the years (and lately it’s become even less often).

“You’ve always done so much for us,” Dani calls from the kitchen. Something clatters loudly into the sink. “We just want to return the favour.”

Owen glances at Jamie, who confirms with a nod that it was, of course, Dani who had had such a thoughtful idea.

“I’m just nervous to serve dinner to the accomplished chef and restaurateur Owen Sharma,” Jamie says. “I’ll have you know that if it were my idea, I’d have just gotten takeaway and arranged it artfully onto plates. Real plates, of course. Nothing but the best for our Owen.”

Dani comes in then with a tray and busies herself with setting up the table. Jamie clears away the half-melted candles and clutter to make room.

“I thought we could have some tea before dinner.”

The hesitation that hangs in the air is palpable mist off a pond.

Owen clears his throat and politely reaches for a cup.

“Did you make it, Dani?”

“She’s been practicing,” Jamie says, drawing one knee up to her chest and reaching over to get a cup for herself.

“She says I’m not allowed to be a judge anymore. Says I’m biased against her, but really my tastebuds are probably shot. So, you are her lucky new victim.”

They toast to friendships and loves that are never truly lost and gamely drink Dani’s latest attempt at a proper cup of tea.

“You know what,” Owen says after a moment. “It’s not that bad.”

“Really?”

“You hear that, Poppins?” Jamie says, with another half toast of her cup. “You did it.”

“Really?” Dani says again. She takes her own sip, searching the taste for what might have made this brew remarkable. It just tastes like tea to her.

“It’s good?”

Owen and Jamie both make non-committal sounds, but neither do they abandon their drinks.

“It’s not the most amazing tea I’ve ever had,” Jamie admits. “But it’s absolutely, absolutely a decent cup of tea.”

“You know what?” Dani says, “I’ll take it.”

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor fic #dani clayton #jamie taylor #jamie the gardener #dani x jamie #thobm

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let-it-raines · 4 years ago

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your wonder under summer skies (8/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

-/-

“What time are we supposed to be there?”

“Six,” Killian shouts across the apartment, “but it’d probably be nice if we managed to get there early.”

“It’s your party. They can’t start without you.”

Killian runs his hands through his hair and brushes the front strands back before combing a small amount of gel through it so it’ll stay in place. “It’s a barbecue that I think they realized they were hosting on my birthday at the last minute. It’s not my party.”

“It’s your party, little brother.”

Killian clenches his teeth before he swallows his pride. He’s not going to start something, not now. They’ve had a good day together, and the last thing he needs is to have Liam being passive aggressive to him all night long. He’s been cross for a week now, ever since Killian didn’t come home and asked Liam if he’d let Skipper out in the morning for him.

“Where were you?” Liam asked.

“I was with someone,” Killian mumbled as he pushes through the apartment door. “I’ll try to plan better next time.”

“Next time? So you’ve found your seasonal woman then?”

“Shove it, Liam.”

“If you want me to take care of your dog, you at least owe me some answers.”

Killian turned on his heel and narrowed his eyes. “My personal life is my own. Question it again at your own peril.”

“Oh, so maybe you didn’t find someone. You’re usually cheerier after a night like that.”

“Fuck off.”

He’s got to figure out some kind of plan for Skipper if that’s how Liam is going to be every time Killian doesn’t manage to get home before dawn. That night he’d been sitting in a service station parking lot until seven talking with Emma and had lost track of time, but he’ll have to be more careful.

Or get Emma one of those rope ladders in order to climb out the window.

She’d murder him.

Then again, it’d be better than sending her falling out the window.

The rope ladder, not being murdered.

“It’s a barbecue,” Killian sighs as he grabs a flannel shirt off the hanger and pulls it on. It’s too hot for it now, but it won’t be later. The summer heat fades away as soon as the sun goes down, and he’s certainly not going to complain about it when it’s the best part of any late June day. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. We’ve got to pick up Elsa on our way there.”

“Her apartment is on the other side of town.”

“She’s at the country club with Emma. We’re picking her up, too.”

“Oh?” Killian raises his brow.

Liam furrows his in response. “What?”

“Nothing,” he lies, not wanting to push anything. “Let’s go. You can drive. It’s my birthday, and I’m not about to be the designated driver.”

“Consider it my gift to you.”

Emma and Elsa are waiting for them in the driveway of the club. Elsa’s in the shorts and polo she wears to work, the only thing missing the apron that keeps the ice cream off of her. Emma, however, is in a form-fitting black camisole tucked into a white patterned skirt that’s nearly see-through in the sunlight. He’s got no bloody clue how she got away with wearing that to work unless Regina wasn’t around, but he’s certainly not going to complain.

Except for the fact that they’re about to be in an extremely public place where he can’t enjoy her attire as much as he’d like to.

“Hey,” Elsa greets as she hops into the back of the truck. “Happy birthday, Killian.”

“Thank you, love.” Emma’s door opens behind him, and she slides in. “Do we need to take you by your place so you can change?”

“What? My uniform doesn’t scream birthday barbecue to you?”

“You have a giant ice cream cone on your shoulder.”

Elsa’s eyes roll. “I don’t need to change. We can go.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” Liam sighs, his lips pulled into a bright smile as he stares in the rearview mirror. Elsa chuckles and returns his smile, and Killian looks away. He’s not intruding, but it damn well feels like it.

Elsa and Liam monopolize the conversation on the drive to the Nolans’ as Elsa fills Liam in on everything having to do with the wedding. The thing isn’t for three months, but as he’s been informed over and over again, that isn’t a lot of time when there’s still so much to be done.

(There are pictures of flowers spread out across his kitchen counter with notes written on all of them, and he has no idea how that is going to help come up with a bouquet or arrangements when there are at least fifty options that will lead to endless combinations and possibilities.)

It’s nice to see Liam involved, though. He’s usually so wrapped up in work that he rarely does anything outside of that.

But this is Elsa, and Liam would do anything for Elsa.

He gets that trait from their mum, Killian thinks. She was always beyond loyal to the people she loved even when that was to her own detriment.

They pull onto the road that leads up to the Nolans’ townhome, and Liam finds a spot behind Ariel’s car. She’s already texted him three times today to tell him how excited she is for it to be Killian’s birthday, and he honestly doesn’t think he’s known a singular person to have so much enthusiasm.

Liam and Elsa fall into step ahead of him, Liam’s arm wrapped around Elsa’s shoulder, and Killian feels Emma’s hand brush against his as a shiver inches across his skin. He looks down to see if it’s still there, but it’s not. She’s got it pushed into the pocket of her skirt, and when he glances up, he can see that she’s looking in the opposite direction.

Is she avoiding him?

“Did you have a good day at work?”

“It was fine. Regina was the worst, but otherwise it was fine.”

“Oh? Regina was there today?”

Emma finally turns to him with an arched brow. “Why would you think she wasn’t there?”

“Because she’s rarely there, and I know for a fact that when she is, you have to be a little more uptight with your clothes.”

Emma stops in front of the Nolans’ open front door and crosses her arms over her chest. “What are you saying about my clothes, KJ?”

Killian raises his hands in the air and takes a step back even as he curls his lips into a smile he knows is his most earnest. Well, in a way.

“You cut quite the figure in that outfit, love, but I can also see almost all of your figure in the natural light.”

Her eyes widen and the sunlight glints across them to illuminate the green. “You can what?”

Killian gestures down to her skirt. “I can see the outline of your legs through your skirt, Swan.”

“Can you see my underwear?”

“Eh.” He scratches his ear. “Possibly.”

“Well, shit. I’ve been walking around like this all day. When is the sun going to set so I can stop flashing people?”

“In a few hours.”

“Great. So I’m about to flash all of our friends?”

“Every single person here has seen you in the small scraps of fabric you call a bikini. I think you’ll be fine.”

She tilts her head back, elongating her neck, and groans. “It’s fine, I guess. It’s too late to change now unless I want to wear Mary Margaret’s clothes, and I like this outfit. Happy birthday, by the way. Did you get the cupcakes I sent you?”

“Aye. I had the lemon one. I saved the chocolate one for you. I figured you’d picked that one out for yourself anyway.”

“I am neither confirming nor denying that.”

“I don’t tend to eat chocolate, and you sent me one chocolate cupcake in a group of otherwise nicely flavored cupcakes. It’s pretty clear.”

Emma shrugs, but her lips curl up in the corners. “I’ve got something else for you, too.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

Killian sways closer to her and cocks his head to the side. “Do I get it now or is that happening when you come over to get your cupcake?”

“It’s for now.”

“Why, Swan, so close to all of our friends? That’s risky.”

She presses up on her toes, and he swears her lips brush over his. “I’m not having sex with you for your birthday, but I do have you tickets to a Yankees game in August.”

“Bloody hell. Really?”

“Really.” She presses forward and brushes her lips against his cheek. “Happy birthday, KJ. Feel free to take whoever you want to the game, but if it’s not me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Killian throws his head back and laughs before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Emma. “Will is going to fight you for it, but you’re definitely a contender.”

“Good. Now let’s go inside. A whole host of people are waiting inside to celebrate you.”

“I think they’re here for the food.”

“Eh, don’t get into the specifics.”

Emma’s right. There is a host of people waiting inside for him. It’s rare for all of them to have off on the same day, especially a Saturday night, and even if he is not one to want a big celebration for himself, it’s nice to get to catch up with everyone. Though, he does remind himself that this was never intended for him, but that doesn’t matter when the food is good and the beer is cold against his lips.

Ruby and Will are currently arguing over the best way to make a margarita, Mary Margaret is offering to set up a competition between them, and David is insisting that doesn’t happen because Mary Margaret and tequila are not a good combination.

“Oh come on,” Elsa sighs, “let’s do the competition. I want to relive Mary Margaret’s bachelorette weekend.”

“Can’t that wait until your own bachelorette weekend?” David groans.

“Mine is hopefully going to consist of a weekend at the spa and the exact opposite of Mary Margaret’s because Anna is planning it instead of Ruby.”

“Hey,” Ruby scoffs, “what the hell does that mean?”

“I think it means that if anyone is going host a party with gummy dicks, it’s going to be you.”

“I did for mine,” Ariel adds in.

“Wait? What?” Eric looks over at his wife, and Killian hears Emma snicker in the lawn chair next to him. “You had those?”

“I did. They were really good. I think I still have some of the packets stuffed away in a closet somewhere.”

“Ruby can get you some more,” Mary Margaret says. “She’s got a contact at the company who makes them.”

“Liam, it seems like we’re all set for your party then.”

Liam tosses a cube of ice at Killian, but he misses him as it skims behind him. “I might let you plan it, or I might let Rob takeover. He’s less likely to get us arrested.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means law enforcement finds my face kinder than yours,” Robin sighs. “And you do have a tendency to, well, get yourself in trouble.”

“I’ve never gotten myself bloody arrested!”

“Okay,” Will claps, “I think we can all agree that I will be the host as I am the only one of the lot of you who knows how to have a good time.”

“Oh, why don’t we do one together,” Elsa suggests. “We can take out one of the big boats for a day and just hang out. Like this, but better because we’re out on the water. We can find a day where Anna can come down.”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, darling. Maybe we could find a house and get out of the city for a weekend.” Liam leans over and kisses Elsa’s forehead. “We’ll even let Ruby get the dick gummies if she really has to have that.”

“I do. I also want birthday cake, so birthday boy, can we please finally cut in before I have to take the entire thing for myself?”

“Let’s eat cake,” Killian demands. “And have the margarita contest.”

David slumps down in his chair and covers his face with his hands.

They don’t actually hold a contest, deciding that no one actually wants to see Will and Mary Margaret argue for the rest of the night, but Ruby does get her cake. Killian’s body has to be made up of fifty percent sugar at this point in the day, but he honestly doesn’t care. The sun sets and the backyard is lit only by the string lights hanging above them and the lights shining through the windows in the houses across the street. Rob’s left to meet up with Regina, her son, and Roland, and Eric had to leave to tend to the restaurant but left Ariel behind. She’s taken that as a sign that she has to talk his ear off about next week’s Fourth of July beach festival.

“Don’t you remember when you first moved here and you thought it was the worst thing in the world?”

“I still think it’s the worst thing in the world.”

“But it’s so much fun! The city brings in rides and games, and the firework show. My God, it’s like magic. Plus, Eric makes a killing at the restaurant from all the extra people that come in. Oh, Emma!”

Killian glances behind him and sees Emma walking by with half a hot dog in her mouth. “What?”

“Don’t you think the carnival is so much fun?”

She covers her mouth and keeps chewing as she walks over to them. “I think it has the potential to be fun, but it usually ends with some kid throwing up on my shoes or me having to go into work because Regina is fuming over the festival we do for our members not being as lavish.”

“Oh, come on, the two of you need to lighten up. It’s going to be fun!”

“I will try to muster half of the enthusiasm that you have, love.”

“That’s all I ask. Are there still hot dogs?”

“A few more, but you’re going to have to fight David for them.”

“Oh, I can definitely take him. I’ll be right back.”

Ariel leaves them, and Emma plops herself down into the chair next to him before propping her feet up on his lap and kicking off her sandals while she continues to eat her food.

“Were you not considering a plate for that?”

“Nope.”

“Classy.”

She shrugs. “I do what I can. So, how’s your night been? I thought you were going to hurl yourself at Liam earlier.”

Killian’s brow raises. “Pardon?”

“When he made that joke about you likely getting them arrested at his bachelor party you looked like you were getting ready to murder him.”

“Did I?”

“I mean, you pretty much always look like you’re going to murder him, but your jaw did that thing where it clenches and moves all broody and angry like.”

He swallows and blinks at Emma, letting his eyes adjust to the ever-darkening night. There must be clouds in the sky for how few stars are showing, and maybe if he stares at it long enough, he won’t have to have this conversation.

He could really use another beer right now.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d get anyone arrested. You like to play scoundrel, but I’m pretty sure you’ve always been the type to play by the rules.”

“Swan, we both know that’s a lie. Even when I was a buttoned-up Naval lieutenant I still hated not being the one in charge. So many of the damn rules were ridiculous.”

“Like what?”

He draws his finger to his neck. “I would be reprimanded if I had a hickey on my neck. The damn things are unattractive, yes, but I don’t think I deserved to be punished for it.”

“That happen to you a lot then? Your women couldn’t keep their hands off of you? Well, their mouth.”

Emma’s laughing at herself, but he feels his stomach sink with her words. But she doesn’t know. He’s never told her.

And now certainly isn’t the time.

“I think you’d be surprised with how I was when I was younger.”

“Yeah?”

“Aye. I mean, I was still this handsome and charming, but I could keep a woman for longer than a summer.”

“I’m sure you could.”

She shifts her foot on his lap and Killian’s hand falls to her ankle. Her skin is as soft as it always is, and he starts aimlessly drawing on her skin. Does no one believe that he’s capable of more than one-night stands and summer flings?

Though, he doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t exactly believe that about himself. It’s been a long damn time since he was capable of more than that.

A long time since he’s wanted to be.

“But seriously? You two okay?”

He shakes his head and forces a smile. “We’re fine, darling.”

“Superpower, Jones.”

“Can’t it be wrong one time?”

Emma shrugs and takes the last bite out of her hot dog. “It’s probably wrong all the time, but I like to believe in it.”

Killian sighs.

Damn perceptive woman.

“Liam has been a little cross with me since I wasn’t home last week to let Skipper out. He does this. He assumes I’m with some woman and gets irritated because he can’t understand that I’m not like him and can’t find someone like Elsa who I want to marry and settle down with. I don’t know. He’s thought of himself as my father for most of his life, and I know he means well, but his intentions don’t always translate.”

“Was that when you were with me?”

“Aye.”

Emma’s foot moves to shift off of him, but he grabs it and keeps it in place before looking up at her. She’s chewing on her bottom lip and has her head twisted to the side. Light reflects off her cheekbones and illuminates the angles of her face and reaches up into her hair. It’s usually golden like threads from a fairytale, but right now it’s a translucent white that matches the smile he’s usually lucky enough to be graced with.

He’s known many beautiful women in his lifetime, but there is something so undeniably different about Emma Swan.

A yellow wildflower in a garden full of red roses. Some people prefer roses with all of their petals perfectly lined up, but he’s always been a fan of flowers showing up in a place they otherwise do not fit and becoming beautiful all the same.

He’s always preferred a wildflower to a rose.

Emma Swan is undoubtedly a wildflower.

“If I’m coming between you guys…” She trails off and worries her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t want that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She motions over to where Liam is sitting at a table with Elsa, David, and Mary Margaret. “You and Liam. I’m the woman you’re sleeping with. I’m the one who is keeping you from having this stable relationship you so want. And we both know he would implode if he found any of this out.”

“You are not keeping me from anything. If I wanted something stable, I’d have it.” Killian pushes her foot off of him and leans forward until his face is within inches of hers and he can see the green of her eyes and the freckles on her nose. He likes that there are more nearly every time he sees her. “And last week I was with you because you needed me as a friend. I’m always going to be here for you like that. That’s rule one, isn’t it?”

Emma huffs and blinks up at him before she finally stops chewing on her lip and smiles. “Hey, it’s your birthday. We should be having more fun than this, shouldn’t we?”

And he knows it’s a conversation change. He’s not blind. But he also isn’t in the mood to push Emma right now. She will push back, and it doesn’t always end up being pretty.

“What do you suggest we do then, love?”

“Do you feel like an old school classic with some drinks involved or should we go raid David and Mary Margaret’s game cabinet?”

“Oh, classic, definitely. You want to do the cereal box one?”

“Is that the one where we all have to pick it up with our mouths? That’s kind of unsanitary.”

Killian’s brows raise. “Your mouth has touched many places on me, so I think you’ll be okay.”

Emma scoffs and pushes against his shoulder. “Don’t be gross. We’re going to do ‘Never Have I Ever’ because this is your twenty-eighth birthday, and we’re all super mature.”

“Obviously. We should have let Mary Margaret and Will do their margarita contest in preparation for this.”

“Mary Margaret’s would have won. “

“If you tell Will that, it will devastate him.”

She shrugs and stands up, stepping into her shoes. “I’ll let him keep his pride. Now, c’mon, it’s time to ask each other very pointed embarrassing questions in the spirit of celebrating your birth.”

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @shardminds @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @itsfabianadocarmo @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years ago

Text

coming back was a mistake!

the reader bonds with kai over their shared dislike of mystic falls

previous part

word count: 3912

music: tomorrow never came by lana del rey

warnings: delena wedding

Kai leaned over Caroline, almost touching her ear with his nose. Nobody had any idea how a mortal witch boy was still capable on sneaking on vampires, but there they were. Caroline nearly hopped out of her pants when he started talking,

“So, what’s the deal with the pretty one?”

“God dammit! What is wrong with you?!”

Kai put on his patient face and waited until Caroline snapped out of her manic episode. He could never understand why it’s so hard to get over their indignation every time he was around, and just answer his questions.

“Is she, like, insane?”

The blonde vampire narrowed her eyes almost vengefully.

“Who?!”

“The pretty one, Y/N”.

“What do you want with her?” Caroline snapped.

“Are you okay? Have you hit your head today?”

“I don’t have time for this”, Forbes brushed him away with her hand. She was dreaming about leaving this house as soon as possible. “Stay away from her”.

If she was a bit nicer, Kai would tell her it was too late, and that he was almost as good as the second base.

He wandered around the mansion until he found Elena. And approached her with the same question. This one had a slightly longer fuse. Where Caroline raged and started spitting atrocities, Elena would usually get worried out of her little mind about everyone.

“What’s the deal with Y/N?”

There we go. The nervous glint in her dark eyes. Oooh, how does Kai know about her? Oh my god, what has he done this time? Etc.

“Why?”

“Saw her talk to herself”.

Elena sniffed angrily.

“Where?”

Kai was honestly getting tired of them all.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just curious“.

“That’s none of your business, Kai”.

“She’s also super secretive about why she only comes back once a year. Maybe I’m reading too deep into it, but I find it cryptic”, he smirked. Elena sighed.

“You just sound like you’re very bored. Find another source of entertainment”.

“I don’t want to. I like this one”.

Elena looked carefully at the witch. She already knew that look, although it hasn’t been too long for her studying Malachai. But this look said everything. He made his mind up. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Leave her alone. Please?”

Kai looked down on the brunette, frowning with a grin.

“I’m not gonna hurt her. You think I’m some kind of creep?”

He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Elena rolled her eyes.

Damon entered the living room.

“You ready, Bastinda?” he asked, looking extremely bored. Kai nodded, playing along as if he was even mildly entertained by his neverending nickname spitting fountain or irony. Everybody had to pretend they find Damon witty, otherwise he’d get upset. That was one of the things that apalled Kai the most, why everyone was so worried about the fragile nature of this big idiot boy.

Just before they started the spell, he sensed his sister, as Damon’s head snapped towards the door. The vampire ears detected her angry footsteps, too. Too bad the vampires underestimate the famous Parker rage.

You only realized your phone was left at the Grill when the morning came.

Cursing, worried and hungover, you drove there, a bit blinded by the sunlight. August did not have mercy on anyone.

It was bad enough your head was spinning. While Jerry the bartender who was still alive went to the DJ booth to ask around about your loss, you sat at the counter, sucking on water with lemon, and looked around. Everything appeared completely normal. You wondered if people remembered what had happened to them last night. Whether anybody got hurt. You were so dizzy on the new weird feeling of closeness, you were borderline indifferent. You even asked yourself if Kai the witch boy did something to you to knock you a little but out. Being here, you can expect anything.

The kissing part was good though, and overall, he was good. It felt good.

Jerry returned, shrugging.

“He says some guy came and picked it up this morning”.

“Crap”, you groaned. “Which guy? Tall and dark?”

Jerry smirked like an asshole.

“Everybody here is tall and dark, but yeah”.

You couldn’t have come up with a better description of this wretched place.

Where to look for him now? The Salvatores seem to know him. Can as well begin from there. You lowered your head (carefully) and put it on the wheel. Not again. All the roads in Mystic Falls lead to the Salvatore boarding house, don’t they. You can’t go one year without any adventures. Every August, you say to yourself you’d be extra careful, not talk to anyone, not engage in anything, just sit at your house, and maybe you’ll be spared. It never works. Last year there was this werewolf invasion. The year before that, an insane witch coven that was in the middle of waging vampire genocide when you arrived. The year before that, someone slit the last Miss Mystic Falls’ throat in the park right in the middle of a juggler’s performance at the fair. This shit, every year. This town is cursed, there was no doubt about it. Now, you break your own rule, and go on a date with this witch guy, and he’s a fucking awesome storyteller, and witty as hell, and you feel something except regret and exhaustion for the first time in years, something like excitement. Like you’re waking up. And now you’re hungover, and he has your phone, and you have no idea where he is.

You started the engine and drove slowly, without a hurry, thinking, if I run out of gas before I get there, I might as well not reach them at all.

The front lawn of Damon and Stefan’s house was as green as ever, the sun blasting its deadly rays down on one slender crabtree standing aside like a shy teenager at the high school party. The big dark windows even looked friendly in the light of the day.

Leaving the car, you observed the house. It never changed throughout the years. The sound of closing the car door hurt you a little bit, but you already left your sunglasses inside.

Then you saw Elena in the window on the second floor.

She did not behave like usual. She was a vampire, and vampires don’t get scared anymore. Elena was banging her fists on the window like she was unable to break it, and yelling something you couldn’t hear. Suddenly, a loud thump came from the inside of the house, as if an elephant bumped into a wall at full speed.

The only reason Elena would be beating on the window like that was if she was locked in with magic.

Frowning, you kinda realized Kai must be inside. What has he done this time? You caught yourself thinking about him as if you’ve known him for years now. The little shittery in his eyes said it all pretty well.

Honestly, you just needed your phone.

You entered the house, pushing the unlocked door, and stood in the hallway to listen. You could now hear Elena screaming on the second floor. She was trapped like a cat in a cabinet, and rushing from wall to wall trying to get out.

Someone else was apparently throwing furniture at the walls in silent fury. That must be one of the Salvatores.

You stepped on carefully, and tried to get into the living room, when there was stumbling, and, like in an 80s slasher, Kai Parker limped out into the corridor, holding his side. His white shirt was stained with blood dripping through his fingers. The wound was very deep because the blood wouldn’t stop. However, his face had a completely normal lively color, which confused the hell out of you.

“Hey!” he called, with effort. He even waved at you with his bloodied palm.

“How are you after last night?”

You stepped to him, putting your hands on the wound, and he let go of it, placing his arms onto your shoulders. Your knees caved in a little under his weight.

“What the hell happened? Have you attacked them?”

“Me?” Kai exclaimed, “no, that’s my sister. She came, locked the vampires up there, and stabbed me, and then escaped like the little coward she is. Olivia, that is, not Joe”.

“I thought you only had one sister left”.

“Nah, I hadn’t told you the whole story”.

You both looked inside the living room where the things were just... they were just misplaced chaotically like, as the siblings fought, they were throwing armchairs around. You led Kai towards a couch and sat him there, pressing his hands into the stab wound, and stepped away towards the kitchen to look for something.

“You can heal yourself, right? You have magic now?”

“I can’t heal myself, I can only siphon life force out of someone to cater the cut. If you’re willing to sacrifice your life, I’m all down for it...” he mumbled. Walking around the turned up coffee table, you stopped, and sighed, as the old, old feeling filled you up yet again. Exhaustion, yes, that was it, the eternal Tired of doing the same thing again and again, going through this unnatural circle.

“Hey, I’m bleeding out here, babe, you wanna... uh...” Kai looked down at his wound, curious, because he, too, knew now something’s wrong. It looked like it didn’t hurt him anymore.

While you were standing over his body, laid on the floor, like a bird. His childlike lean, smooth face dead calm with his eyes open, white shirt all soaked in his bright red blood. Migraine was drilling into your temples with force. You looked back at him sitting on the couch.

“Shit”.

Kai looked back at you. He was a clever boy. Way quicker than the rest of them here. They were all wide eyes and miriads of extra questions, pacing around the room when trapped into the corner. Parker seemingly understood everything right away.

“I’m already dead, aren’t I?” he asked.

You remembered what he said last night. And it actually made your heart shrink a tiny bit.

Your hands were now clean, the ghostly blood having vanished, as all life left him. Now he was clean, too, no holes in his shirt, and he sat up straight. You knew he was slowly losing feeling in his hands and skin, too, and you hurried back to touch him before he completely forgets.

You fell down next to him heavily and took his arm, and he looked at his own fingers interlocked with yours.

“I’m dead again?” he repeated, with a little bit more irritation.

“Yeah”.

“And how do you see me? Does everyone in this town has a thing?”

You shrugged.

“I see dead people. It’s in the water, I guess. You know how they tell to never drink from creeks and stuff...”

Kai looked a little flustered. He would probably take it much worse if he was alone now.

“So, you were talking to ghosts last night?”

You pulled on his hand.

“You were stalking me?”

“Yeah, I was. I thought you were a mental patient”.

Kai threw his head back and looked in the tall window. His dark eyes turned grey as the light touched them. He looked beautiful when he was that calm.

“Damn it. What now? I have never died permanently before”.

You said,

“I don’t know. If I don’t let go of you, you will stay here forever”.

He eyed you, pondering.

“Who lives in your house?”

“My dad and grandmother”.

“And who’s on the football field?”

You shuddered on the inside. You wanted to smack him on the nose, but knew better than to assault people who have just passed and were fragile already.

“Kai, why were you even there? Were you, like...”

“It was my field. I came there every evening to watch the huskie...”

“Her name is Mist”.

“Edgy. Okay. I was coming there every evening to watch Mist, and then you just showed up and started running. Not my fault”.

“But I didn’t see you”.

“You’re averting again. Come on, Y/N”, he shook your hand lightly and squeezed it. He wasn’t noticing it, but his fingers were losing sensitivity and he kept squeezing your hand to feel the warmth. Soon, everything would go hard and cold to him. Even the sunlight.

“I’m dead. Tell me. My last wish”.

It was hard like swallowing rocks. Your own mind was so good at avoiding this that you came up with thousands of questions instantly. You wanted to ask why his sister killed him. Why she didn’t touch the vampires. How did she even outpowered him. Kai was drilling you with his grey crystal glance, and you finally managed to look him in the eye.

Out of all people, you were sorry he was the one to die. He didn’t seem like a very good fella, but it’s not always goodness that you like in people. He seemed bigger than Mystic Falls, greater than the local drama. This town wasn’t supposed to devour him like that. You didn’t know what his death meant to their odds at getting Bonnie back. What if he was the only one who could reach her?

“When I was fifteen, Damon’s ex came into town and started waging chaos”.

“I’m not surprised”.

“Uh-huh. She was going around, turning people, and manipulating them and generally just turning our lives into hell”.

“Oh, she sounds fun. Was her name Katherine Pierce by any chance?”

“If you know her, I’m going to send you to hell right now”.

Kai’s brows went up.

“You can do that?”

“I mean, when I let a ghost go, they go wherever they’re supposed to. You’re definitely going to hell”, you shrugged.

“Oh, yeah. Okay”.

Kai looked like he was a little bit hurt.

“She used compulsion on me, just to entertain herself, and during a PE lesson I stabbed a girl I went to school with. On the second lap, as we ran the mile. I got pissed at running, I hated it. I was so tired all the time, and she told me to act out when I get irritated at school. The worst thing, to this day, I don’t know if the stabbing was a part of her compulsion, or mine”.

You thought about her, standing there at this very moment, on the same spot where you left her every year.

Day and night, in her yellow tank top and sports bra, cycling black shorts and uncool old Nike trainers, her long brown hair in a messy ponytail, and one earring in her right ear. You knew every part of her face because she stared at you all the time.

Kai was quiet for some time, as if trying to read into you.

“That’s it?” he said suddenly. You were taken aback.

“You stabbed a chick because a vampire compelled you, and now you return every year and cry there? What are you punishing yourself for?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Look...”

“Why don’t you just send her the hell off? You can do it, right? What are you bitching about?”

“Hey!”

You let go of his hand, and he stared at it, looking a bit lost, like all the people who died. Despite of his shattering insensitivity, he still made you feel for him. People were all the same when they died. They all looked like children who are just figuring out they were lost at a huge foreign train station.

“Look, all I’m saying...” he was still looking at his own hand, “don’t stress about what you don’t have to stress about”.

“I killed her, Kai”.

“Yeah, and today my own sister killed me”, he reasoned. He looked so seriously betrayed as if he was not aware of the irony. “People die. Sometimes they die horribly, in their bloom, you know, when they’re about to do something great”.

He crossed his arms on his chest with a grudge.

“I thought you had some kind of tragedy there, or at least were insane”.

“I get why Damon dislikes you”, you muttered. Kai puffed.

“You’re very hard to love”.

“Yeah, I’ve been told”.

You looked at each other. Fresh day somehow brought memories of last night, and you thought about it simultaneously.

“But you liked our date though, right?”

You nodded.

“I would even go on a second one if you... stayed alive”.

“Let me go down there, and I’ll think of something. Or you can join me”, he eyed you up and down, “I hear it’s pretty hot in here”.

You could see he nearly gave you a wink. Even if you kissed him now, he wouldn’t feel it on his face. God dammit.

“You want advice?”

“No”.

“Go away and never come back here”.

You were holding on a thin thread supported by the connection. You were sorry to see him go as you let him slide away. As you opened your eyes, he was gone from the couch, and from the room, and there was only his body left.

The spell wore out eventually, and Elena, together with Damon, ran downstairs, already aware of what happened. They must have heard you talk to the invisible spirit.

“Awesome”, Damon snarled through his teeth, kicking Parker’s body, “amazing. Little shit”.

He was puffing, walking around the room, nearly banging on the walls. Elena was standing in the middle of the room, devastated.

Everybody was hurt in a certain way by the death of the guy hated here the most. Turned out, everyone needed him after all. Whether to get Bonnie out, or to finally merge, or just to know him a little better. Deaths were pointless, you knew that better than all.

You went to the football field, in the afternoon for the first time, to see her.

She was cemented there just like you wanted her, mortified she’d follow you around. Kai was sharp and rude, but on point. You were punishing yourself. It’s not like Maddie made you drive through the country every year just to see her.

She was waiting for you, looking with glass eyes like she was for the last seven years.

The sun was still high up, almost no shadows on the spacious court.

It was like it all made zero sense now. You didn’t know what made Kai Parker the chief advisor on your mental stability, but suddenly you saw everything completely clear. Maybe it was hangover. You had no need to keep all the ghosts around you. You were in charge of them, not the other way around. You bumped into them, you could tell them to go, or just leave them there if you didn’t care. Many years away almost made you think you didn’t care.

“Go”, you said to Maddie. And she was gone. No more laps around the field.

You went home and said the same to your father and your granny. And just like that, the house was empty again.

“I know you decided not to ever come back again”, she chanted, “but... I mean... I will understand if you refuse to come, but everybody would love to see you, and it will definitely mean a lot”.

Unfortunately for your morale, you were already standing over a sports bag.

You sighed into the phone.

“Okay, I’m gonna say it once, because I love you, and will never say it again...”

Elena held her breath.

“I don’t think... I don’t think Mystic Falls is the worst place on Earth...”

“Wow”, Elena hammered, “hold on, can I put you on the speaker? They gotta hear this”.

“No”.

“So, you will come?”

“Only because it’s your wedding. And only for the wedding. Then I’m going back”.

“You’ve heard the town has sold the house, right? You’ll have to stay with us. Y/N, it’s going to be awesome. We’ll have girls’ nights... oh my god, Caroline will tell you everything about...”

You rolled your eyes so deep you took a peep at your own brain. There was nothing in there. Absolutely nothing, apparently.

...here we go, the freaking sign, the Livingstones house, the bridge... all the same. It’s like a cursed room where the winds are on the loop. With its own aesthetic, of course. The blood-red clock tower produces long, hollow sound as its hands move. People going batshit crazy here. Everything is one long deja vu. The only thing that stood out was somebody missing. Somebody who was admittedly too cool for this place, and was scarily good at slow dancing. Somebody who would never be fit to help, and who still did. That person.

Elena and Damon’s wedding was everything one could imagine. Flower arch, check. Bridesmaids matching cream dresses, check. Soft elevator music, check. Caroline hair being out of this world, check. Damon smiling like one million dollars, check. Stefan suffering quietly in the corner, check. Jeremy getting drunk and knocking over a table, check. Dancing to the same ten indie songs, check. Bonnie was back, which was good. They did find a way after all.

You were comfortably unimpressed, because it was home. It was entertaining enough. Catching up, listening to all the crazy shit that happened during these two years you were absent.

Apparently, Klaus has been harassing Caroline with his undying love, and she wasn’t having it, although it was clearly a perfect vampire scenario. Some demonic weird crap brushed over the city when Damon was brifely involved with gathering souls for hell. Could’ve been a job for you, he winked at you like the rascal he was. You should’ve seen the whole madhouse unraveling when we opened the gates, and all these sinners started rushing out in all directions, he complained. It took him weeks to get them all back, and he still wasn’t sure he caught everybody. It’s not like they did a head count, right?

You stopped drinking.

“You mean the souls escaped from hell?” you asked, surprised that they weren’t more concerned about it. And also, what a generic topic to discuss at his wedding. Charming.

“No, the people. Physical entities. They kinda just... pfft. Hopped out. Those who were, you know, quicker”.

The burning question made it hard to swallow champagne. How did they not mention the obvious?

“And... who did you shove back?”

“Hm, just a bunch of losers. I mean, they’re people, or creatures, for that matter. Not all of them are human. I’m sure some weirdos are still out there.. So you be careful. Elena said you wouldn’t stay long, huh? How about the Harvest Festival though?”

“I don’t know. Harvest Festival is lame, Damon”.

“Yeah, it is”, Damon agreed, searching for his beautiful wife with his eyes. One second ago she was somewhere among the people, and now she was gone. “But the after party...”

“Ah, that. Sure”.

“Nobody’s bothering you anymore, are they? You can stay for a little while”.

You swayed your head without expression.

“Where the hell is she?”

Music changed, and nobody really noticed, except for you. You don’t notice if you don’t listen. You never got your old phone back, by the way. You had no idea where the dead boy put it, and whether it was him at all who took it from the Grill.

But now Lana was on speakers, and you suddenly remembered.

“You better go look for her, Damon”, you warned him, looking around.

The vampire felt the change in your mood.

“What is it?”

You gulped down your glass of champagne and smiled wide, for real.

“Second date”.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #vampire diaries imagine #kai parker x reader #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #liv parker #tvd

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bobasheebaby · 5 years ago

Text

200 Brooklyn 99 Prompts

Rosa

1 “Talk to him, that's what friends do.” “Nope. I'm gonna wait 'til I'm on my deathbed, get in the last word and then die immediately.” “That's your plan for dealing with this?” “That's my plan for dealing with everything. I have seventy-seven arguments I'm going to win that way.”

2 “I'm already seeing somebody, NAME.” “Oh, and just like that, things got interesting.” “And just like that, I left.”

3 “NAME is even wearing his/her formal leather jacket.” “It's the one without any blood on it.”

4 “Right, that's the guy/girl you said the lame stuff about. Like he’s/she's a good listener.” “Sorry, what do you look for in a guy/girl?” “Real stuff, like the shape of his/her ass.”

5 “Sorry I'm late. I had to go back to the deli and return my Everything Bagel. In what world does everything not include beef jerky?” “All of them.”

6 “He/She also likes to look up recipes online and go, "Who's got the time?"

7 “Thank you, NAME. Your entire life is garbage.”

8 “NAME , tell us about your family.” “I have one.”

9 “Anyone over the age of six celebrating a birthday should go to hell.”

10 “I am dating his/her nephew/niece. Now we are hanging out on weekends. What is next? Oh! Small talk.”

11 “Wait, is that a smile I see?” “Possibly. My immune system is too weak to fight off my smile muscles.”

12 “Whoa, what happened? You know what, forget it. I'll just read NAME’s notes.”

13 “NAME? Are you stuck in there?” “No, I'm in here by choice.” “Oh, 'cause I hear some banging noises as if someone was struggling to open the door.” “No. That was the pipes.” “Or, is it the sound of you learning how to ask for help? You know, you can't spell ‘independent’ without ‘dependent.’” “And you can't spell ‘Go [bleep] yourself’ without ‘[bleep] you.’”

14 “I've said "excuse me" more times this morning than I have in my entire life. Twice!”

15 “Oh, nothing better after a long shift than coming to BAR NAME. It's like Cheers, where everybody knows your name.” “A place where everybody knows your name is hell. You're describing hell.”

16 “So, what is this? Casual, serious? I need to know how to make fun of you.”

17 “NAME and I broke up. He/She ate soup too much.” “What, like every day?” “It happened twice.”

18 “So, what are you drinking?” “I'll have a margarita. But, like, a skinny margarita. So, like, tequila, lime, and a tiny splash of agave.” “Mm. I refuse to order that.”

19 “What are you looking all wistful about?” “Just thinking, about relationships and love, and how I'm way better at them than I thought I'd be. Should I do a TED Talk on it?” “Doesn't seem any dumber than all the other TED Talks.”

20 “Why didn't you tell me? I had no idea things were getting that serious.” “Yeah, it's very embarrassing having feelings.”

21 “So are you bringing someone to the wedding?” “No, I'm taking a break from dating for a while.” “What?” “I'm sick of asking people how many siblings they have. Oh, is it somewhere between zero and two? How fascinating.”

22 “I grew a goatee and it looks amazing, and I know you can see it.” “Of course we can see it, NAME. It's horrible.”

23 “It feels like you're being a little harsh.” “Thanks, good note. I was going for extremely harsh. I'll turn it up.”

24 “Are your senses heightened?” “I think I might be pregnant, not bitten by a radioactive spider.”

25 “You're what sneezes are!”

26 “Seriously, you guys should stand up once in a while. You know, for your hearts.”

27 “NAME, this is dumb. I'm just gonna go.” “No, no, no. You promised me more time. I still have seven minutes.” “I really don't want to miss my flight, and I cannot physically stand the way that room smells anymore.” “Just breathe through your mouth.”

28 “You know, some people say, ‘Mo money, mo problems,’ but those people are idiots. Money's amazing.”

29 “Dude, just admit you ruined everything and turned our lives into a living hell. No biggie.”

30 “We don't want anyone getting alcohol poisoning, so if you throw up, you're disqualified.” “I never throw up. I just tell my stomach to deal with it. My body is terrified of me.”

Jake

31 “I also have a hairline fracture in my thumb. Mankind's least important finger, am I right?”

32 “I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.”

33 “How much could I possibly owe you? Fifty, sixty bucks?” “Two thousand, four hundred and thirty seven dollars.” “Dollars?! Wait, of course dollars. Why was that the part I was surprised by?”

34 “So, I'm going to grab a healthy breakfast.” “Are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up?” “Breakfast burrito, but yeah.” “I pity your dentist.” “Joke's on you. I don't have a dentist.”

35 “I'm talking to my credit card company. I tried to get an online subscription to the New Yorker and they declined me. Apparently, based on my previous purchases, they assumed it was fraud. That's crazy. I'm fancy. One time I had coffee-flavored ice cream.”

36 “Rules are made to be broken.” “They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken.” “Uh, piñatas.” “Glow sticks.” “Karate boards.” “Spaghetti when you have a small pot.” “Rules.”

37 “Hey, can I ask you something?” “Mm-hmm.” “If the toilets drain into the ocean, does that mean a tiny shark could swim up and bite me in the butt?” “No, not at all.” “Psh, lame.”

38 “NAME, super important question. Which one of these shirts should I wear to dinner with your dad/mom tonight?” “Those are exactly the same.” “I have a signature look, NAME.”

39 “Hello, good sir, I'd like your finest bottle of wine, please.” “That will be $1,600.” “Great, I'd like your $8-est bottle of wine, please.”

40 “I am straight-up depressed. NAME’s been doing her best to cheer me up. He/She gave me this sticker this morning just for waking up.” “Ew, it's like you're dating your teacher.” “I know, it's so hot.”

41 “Wait. Before you say anything, I want to guess what happened based on your face. Someone died. No! You won a prize. I'm not getting better at this.”

42 “What is the bandwidth on the wifi here? We have much content to stream.”

43 “Oh, you sweaty, chair-spinning morons. You're gonna get us out of here.”

44 “Sir, I think I speak for all of us when —“ “He/She doesn't.” “He/She doesn't.”

45 “So, your brother/sister's a bit of a nightmare.” “I wouldn't say that. I mean, at most, he’s/she's a daymare.” “Those are so much scarier.” “Yeah.”

46 “Look, NAME, I burnt two hundred calories.” “That's your heart rate.” “Yeah, that checks out.”

47 “I don't slump, people. I opposite of slump. I pmuls. That's slump backwards and it's what I do. I pmuls all over this bitch.”

48 “Excuse me. We were just looking for a place to —“ “Boink.” “Yes, boink. That's my preferred term for it, too.”

49 “Thank you for doing this. I love you.” “Noice. Smort. I love you too.”

50 “Adult parties? I believe they're called orgies.”

51 “I have a sexy voice!

Champagne.

Mountain range.

Hugs.”

52 “Has anyone ever told you you look just like a statue?” “Yes.”

53 “NAME, you're smiling. It's very weird. Like seeing a turtle out of its shell.”

54 “You look happy. Let me guess. Your egg sandwich fell on the floor, and they gave it to you for free.” “No. Can you do that? Why doesn't everyone just drop their sandwiches on the floor?” “I was trying to insult you.” “And instead you gave me an amazing life hack!”

55 “So, we gonna talk about what happened back there? I haven't seen someone cry that much since NAME heard they were remaking ‘First Wives Club.’”

56 “Hey, there, NAME. Everything okay?” “No, I'm having a meltdown.” “Props. That was amazing.” “Thanks. It was a lot of work.”

57 “Almost makes me wanna take things seriously all the time. But then I'm like ‘boobs, farts, boobs, whatever’.”

58 “Ahh, babe, this is so nice. There are hot stones on our butts for no reason.” “Not on mine. My butt stones keep falling off, because I'm so tense about NAME being here and ruining everything.”

59 “Okay, don't shoot! That's how people get shot.”

60 “Rule number 3: Let's not have sex right away.” “Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt. Good rule. No sex. Good rule.”

Charles

61 “Okay, but I thought since you were in charge, maybe I could be your right hand man? Your Tinker Bell?” “Tinker Bell?” “Let me tell you something about Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell is a loyal lieutenant and a real thorn in the side of Captain Hook.”

62 “NAME, why don't you show Danger what a fax machine is.” “Okay. Imagine a letter had unprotected sex with a phone.”

63 “Hey, NAME, are you ready to go streaking?” “What?” “That's what my dad/mom and I called getting blonde streaks in your hair. We used to do it to our ponytails on road trips. You just take a little lemon up top, and let the sun do the rest. We called it giving each other road head.” “You just said you called it going streaking.” “It had a couple names.”

64 “So we have good news, and we have bad news.” “My Nana always said, ‘Bad news first because the good news is probably a lie.’ Fun fact: she made me cry a lot.”

65 “What about me? What if something happens to NAME, and he never gets to meet my baby? I don't want to hang out with some stupid baby who's never met NAME.”

66 “Oh, you're right. I'm gonna tell him/her. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. It definitely won't be later than tomorrow. So pretty much today or tomorrow then.”

67 “No! I was eavesdropping. I'm always eavesdropping.” “I don't like it.” “Look, I didn't spend the last seven years watching your love ripen, only to have it sullied by a city hall wedding. You're getting married right here, right now.”

68 “I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like him/her a little bit.” “You doodled your wedding invitation.” “No, that's our joint tombstone.” “My mistake.”

69 “How many times have I smacked you in your face?” “Lost count.” “And you still have no fear of me.” “I'm trying to read your womb vibe.” “Exactly. Knock it off.”

70 “Okay, first of all, NAME, you look amazing. Secondly, I made an appointment at the salon with Nikki, for you, under the name Gabriella Fuentes de San Miguel Estrada. I had fun with the name.” “Clearly.”

71 “He’s/She's got a type, which is really any one but you.” “Yeah, that was my ex-husband/ex-wife's type, too.”

72 “Sexy train is leaving the station. Check out this caboose. Later, sluts.”

73 “I can't wait to see you, my luscious little breakfast quiche. I just want to draw you a bubble bath and spoon-feed you caviar. I think we should open up a joint checking account. I love you. [pause] What am I doing?” “It's okay. I hung up right after ‘Chucklebunny’.” “Help me. I've gone Full NAME.”

74 “Do you desire a crispen potato?” “Oh, don't mind if I do-ble. Wait a minute. Crispen potato. Why are you fancy talking.” “How dare you, sir/madam. I speak the common tongue.” “There it is again. You only do that when you're lying or hiding something.” “Hiding? Ha. Pish-posh.”

75 “Hey, donut holes. Don't mind if I do. Eurgh! Fish? Fish donuts, NAME? What is wrong with you?” “It's takoyaki. I'm drowning my sorrows in octopus balls.”

76 “Put on a T-shirt for all I care. It doesn't matter what you wear.” “Of course it matters. He has to wear the smaller checks. Big checks wash him out. Where are you, NAME?”

77 “Ooh, if they have your phone, we can track where they're going. I have ‘Find My Phone’ set up to track you. What? I do that for all my friends, not just you.” “Show me.” “There's no time!”

78 “You okay?” “Yeah, no burns. The doctor said I was lucky my body was so damp.”

79 “You guys have been down here for two hours. What, did you have sex forty times?”

80 “What? You don't need closet space. You have, like, one outfit.”

81 “You just graduated pie school, bitches. [pause] Sorry I said bitches, I'm just really worked up.”

82 “So, I know you're NAME’s best friend, and —“ “Did he/she say that? Did you get that on tape?” “No.” “No, he/she didn't say that or no, you didn't get it on tape? Doesn't matter. Either way, you screwed up big time.”

83 “What you did is the culinary equivalent of unprotected sex.”

84 “That's right. Boom. Just kicked Santa in the testicles.”

85 “No, there's no one in my life. [wink] Sort of a sad thing to wink about, I realize now.”

86 “NAME! Were you dreaming about NAME again?” “Why did you wake me up?! I told you never to wake me up!”

87 “You used all the touching time, NAME. I get 100% of the goodbye touching time. 100%.”

88 “Do you wanna know why he/she went out with him/her and not you?” “Yeah.” “Because he/she actually asked him/her out.”

89 “NAME, will you taste this batter?” “Mm-hmm. Hmm. I think it's a little off.” “You know what's off? Your mouth! Why NAME lets your stupid tongue anywhere near him/her I'll never know. Nope, I forgot the sugar. That's on me.”

90 “There's no need for NAME to see me unleash the beast.”

Captain Holt

91 “Look at you. Always working. What happened to my fun big/little brother/sister?” “Fun? I was never fun. You take that back.”

92 “It's the most fun day of the year. Something you wouldn't understand because you're not programmed to feel joy.” “Yes, but my software is due for an exuberance upgrade.”

93 “Sticks and stones, NAME.” “Describing your breakfast?”

94 “NAME, how are you feeling?” “Better today. I even managed to eat some plain toast this morning.” “Smart. Something bland.” “That's my favorite breakfast.”

95 “Joining us for lunch, Sir?” “Oh, no, I've already consumed the required calories for this day period.” “Yummy.”

96 “You all right, NAME? Tough weekend?” “I went to Barbados with my husband/wife. We wove hats out of palm fronds and swam with the stingrays. I've never been happier.”

97 “Maybe I should wing it. Love, it sustains you. It's like oatmeal.” “Okay. Okay. Not bad for winging it.” “I lied. Took me two hours to write that.”

98 “I do not have a problem. If I want to play Kwazy Cupcakes, I will play Kwazy Cupcakes. Kwazy is a difficult word to say in anger, but I think I've made my feelings clear.”

99 “This place is so romantic.” “Yeah, and so intimate.” “Don't worry. I'm not listening to you. I'm just thinking about how this sea bass is cold but not as cold and cruel as the hands of fate that have thrust my entire life into darkness.” “Ah, damn it. I just ordered the sea bass.”

100 “Yeah, and your new shirt is very aggressive and confusing. Is the pineapple the slut, or is it calling someone else a slut?” “Clearly the pineapple is the slut.” “Huh.”

101 “Oh, I've caused a problem. I think I am getting a text message. Bloop. Ah, there it is.”

102 “So nice of you to greet us, NAME. I thought surely you'd still be crushed under that house in Munchkinland.”

103 “So, do you NAME --“ “Yes.” “And do you --“ “Yes. Yes. We do. We're married.”

104 “I mean, don't people call you NAME?” “How dare you.”

105 “So you lied to me? Out of pity. You pity me.” “I wouldn't put it that way.” “I would. I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I'm gonna take a nap, but when I wake up, oh, you are in for it.”

106 “Look at that. You've helped me find my smile.”

107 “Huh. Meat from the street. Sounds like a fun treat. Hah. I'm a poet and ... I didn't even know I was rhyming those words. But it happened anyway.”

108 “Oh, look at that. An alert. I'm probably trending already. What? My account has been deactivated?” “Twitter thinks you're a bot.” “Why? I am a human. I am a human male/female.”

109 “Care to sit? I'm sure you'd like to take some weight off your cloven hooves.” “Call me the devil, NAME? How original.” “Actually, I was calling you a goat. You goat.”

110 “NAME! I'm coming with you.” “Thank you, NAME.” “I'm also coming.” “Not necessary.”

111 “Spot checks are done. Needless to say I'm thoroughly underwhelmed.” “Huh. From your expression, I would have guessed constipated. Or chilly.”

112 “NAME, you have a pretty low bar for what you consider drama. Once, I used an exclamation point in a email. You called me Diana Ross.” “I assure you, in this case, I do not exaggerate.”

113 “I know they say it's not good to have a TV in the bedroom. Which is why I don't.”

114 “NAME, did you just laugh?” “Uproariously.”

115 “You know when you play along with the robot jokes, it kinda ruins my enjoyment of them?” “Yes, I know.”

116 “And what do you hope to get out of this, NAME? Let me guess revenge on Dorothy for killing your sister?”

117 “It was a good game though for a dumbass.” Okay, you're kinda overusing that one. Maybe switch it up a little bit.” “Oh, good note. You dick.” “That landed good.”

118 “Dancing over. Situation defused.” “No!”

119 “All right, NAME, I'm sick of you wasting time. So, yes, I spilled some minestrone on my pants and I'm sitting in my underwear. Happy?”

120 “You found me. Drinking seltzer in the shadows.”

Gina

121 “It's a sloppy Jessica. Mac n cheese, chili, pizza on a bun. Its everything I've wanted to eat for the last 48 hours.” “What happened? I thought you were gonna 'last forever bitches.'” “Turns out I gave up easy. You hear that bitches? I gave up so easy.”

122 “If NAME had a twin, he/she would have eaten him/her in the womb.”

123 “Wait a minute, I think I just figured something out. I got to go.” “Aren't you forgetting something?” [person a gives Person b a kiss on the forehead] “Uh no, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?”

124 “The English language can not fully capture the depth and complexity of my thoughts. So I'm incorporating Emoji into my speech to better express myself. Winky face.”

125 “All right, gang. Diet day 4. How's everyone holding up?” “Honestly, I'm going to last forever. You hear that bitches? I'm gonna last forever.”

126 “If I die, turn my tweets into a book!”

127 “The only reason I didn't tell you is I don't value you as people, so why be honest?”

128 “Breakups are a cartoony thumbs down. They make people feel face-with-Xs-for-the-eyes.”

129 “I'm sorry. I just don't think this is something you're good at.” “What? The only thing I'm not good at is modesty, because I'm great at it.”

130 “Click. I just captured the exact moment you realized you had failed. I guess we all got something out of this.”

131 “It's so addictive, right? I play so much that when I close my eyes at night, I just see cupcakes instead of my normal dizzying array of flashing lights.”

132 “Forget your ex with meaningless sex. It rhymes because it's true.”

133 “NAME. NAME. NAME, I screwed up, big time.” “NAME, given your daily life experiences, you're gonna have to be more specific.”

134 “So, talk to me, goose. How are we looking?” “Sexy, but not like we're trying too hard. Like, sure, we're trying, but it's almost effortless.”

135 “Give me the ring.” “You sound like Gollum.” “That means nothing to me. I don't see those movies, I'm too pretty.”

136 “Oh no, six drink NAME isn't fun. He’s/She's just sad. Damn it!”

137 “I never have second thoughts. That's the luxury of having great first thoughts.”

138 “Ugh, constantly getting NAME’s approval is the worst.” “Yes. I can only imagine.”

139 “You think you can just bully people, but you can't. It's not okay. I'm the bully around here. Ask anyone.”

140 “This just might work out after all.” “You're damn right it will, 'cause we're a ragtag, scrappity, fart-dumb, moron parade, smart-ass team!”

141 “Okay, NAME, stop freaking out. I have the day off. I can step in and help.” “Yeah, me too. I'm not off, but I come and go as I please. It's part of my charm. I'm like an outdoor cat.”

142 “Gina, please keep an eye on NAME today. He's/She’s gonna say something to the wrong person and get himself/herself punched.” “Sure, I'd love to see NAME get punched.” “Try again.” “I will stop NAME from getting punched.” “Correct.”

143 “Oh, I want him/her out. But I'm too scared to tell him/her. “ “All right, listen. I know that your spirit animal is a caterpillar that's been stepped on —“ “Mm-hmm.”

144 “What are you creeps doing? You made me look away from my phone. You better pray I didn't miss a text.” “In the two seconds you looked away?” “Seventeen texts. All of them important.”

145 “What is my favorite soup?” “Chicken noodle.” “Potato leek.” “Corn frickin' noodle. I mean, chowder, damn it.” “You're all wrong. I've never had soup.” “Don't bother. They all suck.”

146 “Okay, so that plumber was useless. But we are two smart and capable people who can definitely figure out how to fix a toilet.” “Of course we can. The internet will tell us what to do. She always does.”

147 “It's crazy how much he/she flirts with me.”

148 “Good morning.” “For whom?” “For you-m.”

149 “So he/she didn't say what happened, which can only mean one thing.” “He's/She’s in a fight club.”

150 “What's up? How can I help?” “Well, when I was a kid, I invented a magnetic flashlight clip so I could read under the covers. This clip and I went all around the world together the Shire, Sweet Valley High, Terabithia.” “But never to a friend's house, huh?” “Uncalled for.”

Amy

151 “That stuff with us is in the past. We talked about that.” “I know, but that was before you saw me in this dope ass tux. I mean you must be freaking out.” “Oh, I really am. I'm really into rented clothes. I love how many butts have been in them.”

152 “You know, we're birds of a feather, you and I.” “I hate cliches.” “Cliches are the worst.”

153 “And now I don't know what to do.” “I think you do know what to do.” “Thanks, NAME.” [leaves the room] “I have no idea what he’s/she's gonna do but that's the safest way to give NAME advice.” “Yep.”

154 “Insult me all you want, for I have only this to say —“ “Victory shall be mine!” “I heard you practicing in the shower. You can't surprise me. Letting me into your life was the worst mistake you ever made.” “Cool, fun take on our relationship.”

155 “NAME, where you at?” “Four drinks.” “What's four-drink NAME again?” “Why don't you come over here and find out?” “Right, Horny NAME”

156 “I'm sorry. We only excluded you because you're kind of an over-texter.” “Over-texter? That's not even a thing.” “Oh really? So you don't remember the time you sent 97 unanswered texts in a five-minute span?” “My phone vibrated itself off the desk. I think it was committing suicide.”

157 “What the hell? I used NAME's exact recipe. I know I'm not a great cook, but I love following instructions.”

158 “What's going on? Is this a dream? No, I'm not holding a label maker.”

159 “My power went out last night and my alarm didn't go off.” “Your alarm is power dependent? You brought this on yourself, son.”

160 “I'd also like to apologize for my friend. His /Her parents didn't give him/her enough attention.”

161 “I'm in! A bet which improves someone's manners? Double score.”

162 “He’s/She's scared.” “He’s/She's not scared. With all due respect, NAME, NAME has no feelings.”

163 “I'm so cold even my fiery dance moves aren't keeping me warm.”

164 “I'm sorry. I tried to be myself and they hated it.”

165 “All right, someone's gotta go out there and kill that feathery bastard. NAME, you're always looking for an excuse to behead something.”

Sergeant Jeffords

166 “It was like taking candy from a baby.” “Why are you giving candy to a baby in the first place? Don't give candy to a baby! They can't brush their teeth!”

167 “I was raised on disco. Little NAME loved to hustle.”

168 “Or is your favorite artist really Taylor Swift?” [Scoffs] “No.” “Lie.” “All right, fine, she is. She makes me feel things.” “She makes all of us feel things!”

169 “Urgh, what's in these?” “Potatoes, butter, a little milk. Oh, and I ran out of salt, so I used baking soda.” “Why wouldn't you? They're both white powders. Of course they're interchangeable.” “Yeah.”

170 “I warned you against using donuts. They're my trigger food.”

171 “Hey, NAME, you know how you're really good at doodling?” “I know you think you're complimenting me, but calling them doodles is an insult. You a big fan of Picasso's doodles?”

172 “Your tone's braggy but your words are real sad.”

173 “See, NAME? Tough love works.” “Damn it! NAME proved the wrong point.”

174 “Now, be respectful and grieve your asses off.” “I don't know why this is happening.” “NAME, I love it. Everyone follow his/her lead!”

175 “Everything's spoiled. My lunch is ruined. My chicken, my potatoes, pasta, my meatballs, ham, my yogurt.” “Wow, that's a lot of yogurt.” “I love yogurt.”

176 “Kind of seemed like you were gonna get up and leave after saying all that.” “I was, but I think I hear NAME.”

177 “You better look cute in this picture, or no one's gonna want you. Do something with your damn paws!”

178 “My tolerance has really changed since I had kids!”

179 “I'm hungry!” “Oh, you're in luck; the fanny pack is filled with granola.” “Mmm! Loose granola.” “I don't want fanny granola! I want steaks and whiskey!”

180 “You probably can't tell, but I'm flexing my brain like crazy right now.”

181 “What's that smell? That's lavender. NAME loves lavender.”

182 “Okay. Excuse me. Can we please eat? My body is starting to digest itself. NAME needs nutrients!”

183 “Don't look at me. NAME wastes all that time building muscles, make him do it.” “Oh, come on, you all know these are just for show.”

184 “Sorry? You bumbling son of a bitch. You just ruined my life. I hope you get hit by a truck and a dog takes a dump on your face.” “Nothing to see here. Just a little hypoglycaemic rage. Move along.”

185 “I feel like a proud mama hen whose baby chicks have learned to fly!”

Hitchcock

186 “NAME, why do you have your shirt off?” “Can't spill food on your shirt if you're not wearing one.”

187 “What bet? What are you guys talking about?” “Seriously? The bet? They've been keeping score all year. It comes up all the time. What are you doing all day?!” “Nothing. Why, you want to hang out?”

188 “So you just want us to lie on the ground and do nothing like a bunch of losers?” “Yes, precisely.” “No!” “Jackpot!”

189 “I don't like it. Something stinks.” “Well, I'm sorry, but I refuse to mask my natural musk with a bunch of chemicals.”

190 “My God. NAME, are you the only person still making sense?” “Yeah. It's bad.”

191 “All right, food is ready, decorations are set, guests should start arriving any moment, and the chairs are still perfection.” “He/She said they're perfection. I'm so proud of you, buddy.” “It was you. You made this happen.”

192 “Who do you think it's gonna be?” “I've no idea.” “I bet it's me. I just hope I'm ready.”

193 “Okay, look, this was maybe a weird way to start the night, but the good news is, we can still make our dinner reservation and no one got hurt.” “Actually, I cut myself real bad.” “Of course you did.”

Scully

194 “Oh, so your plan is to not take this seriously at all?” “Oh, I am as serious as a heart attack. No offense, NAME.” “Nah. Mine are never that serious. I call 'em ‘oopsies’.”

195 “I miss my home chair.” “You miss a chair?”

196 “Are those thumbtacks? What the hell, NAME?” “I thought they'd make good confetti.” “Why?”

197 “All right, anyone else have questions? NAME, NAME, you've been weirdly silent.” “We didn't want to say anything that would get us uninvited.”

198 “Okay, first of all, I want to say that this was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. There is so much talent in this room.” “Just tell us, bitch. Act as if you already have the role.”

199 “I'll be back. Don't move.” “Not a problem. I hate moving.”

200 “Where should we begin? Do you have any experience with puzzles?” “Yes. I've never solved one.”

#brooklyn 99 prompts #brooklyn 99 quotes #jake peralta #rosa diaz #amy santiago #gina linetti #captain holt #sergeant jeffords #terry jeffords #charles boyle #scully b99 #hitchcock b99 #bb 99 prompts #bb 99 quotes #quaratine sucks and making these keeps my mind busy #i live in covid 19 hell

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littlegirltacos · 4 years ago

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About Me Tag

This seems like fun! (: Thanks for tagging me @cheolliewrites

name: My name is Nicole. Fun fact, my name was supposed to be Janelle, but my dad was obsessed with Nicole Kidman at the time, so he decided to change my name last minute lol.

nicknames: It really depends on who’s calling me. My family and VERY close friends call me Nikki, my coworkers call me by my last name, which is Tacos (yes like 🌮), some call me Nic, Nikita, Nikka, Nini, Collie, or Ate (cuz i’m the oldest or one of the oldest on either side of my family, and with my friend group)

sign: I’m a Scorpio 😊♏️

height: Officially, I am 4′11.75″. But for dating apps and performance auditions, I’m 5 ft lol

languages: Even though I was born and raised in California, my first language is actually Tagalog. I’m still fluent in it cuz I try to speak it as often as possible with my family and some friends. I also speak English and Spanish, and am currently learning French and Korean. I do want to learn more Asian languages and other Filipino dialects (my mom’s family is from Pampanga and I wanna learn their dialect)

nationality: I’m of American Nationality, but of Filipino ethnicity 🇵🇭

favorite season: California really only has one season, which is sunny with a bit of rain. So summer has always been my favorite season cuz I love the beach and going out with friends and being in the sun. But lately, aesthetic-wise I’m definitely an Autumn person. We just don’t get to experience real Autumn here very often.

favorite flower: I’m actually not much of a flower person, but I’ve always been a fan of tulips.

favorite scent: I have 3 that I tend to go for. One is the beachy scent like I’m walking along the shore and it’s just a nice summer scent. I also like citrus scents, but not super citrus. Kinda like a lemon tree type scent. The third is more of a smoky, rose-floral scent, with a hint of musk.

favorite color: Green. Hands down will always be my favorite color. Neon, olive, mint, teal, forest. Any shade really. Cuz it works for all seasons.

favorite animal: Elephants 🥰🐘

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Coffee in the morning, tea at night, hot chocolate for a midday pick-me-up

average amount of sleep: between 6 and 8 for me cuz I’m a night person and do most of my reading, me-time activities at night, but I have to be productive throughout the day and I still work hehe 🥴😅

dogs or cats: Dogs! I have/had 3 dogs (one recently passed away) and they were all adopted from shelters 😊

dream trip: South Korea and Japan during summer/autumn with friends, or Ireland/Europe during Christmas time. Germany has beautiful Christmas markets that I miss going to.

number of blankets: To sleep with? one large comforter, but I LOVE throw blankets. I have 2 as of now cuz my dog ripped up my other one 😭

blog est: I honestly don’t remember when I started this blog, but I had a tumblr since I was in middle school, back in 2006.

random fact: I’m an Anthropologist. I graduated with a BA in Anthropology back in 2016, and i’m still figuring out what I want to do with the degree, but it’s most likely in Business. I am also a party planner and have worked for events and weddings for 2 years. TBH, I’ve dipped my toe in almost everything in terms of customer service, events, hospitality, travel, and even tutoring biology. So... if you have questions about those things, let me know 😅😅

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these-summer-nights-in-december · 1 year ago

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youtube

I'm delighted to share this 3rd poem video I've made with my nephew Brian Citro: "One Light in a Field of Other Lights" Poem by Christopher Citro Music by Brian Citro Video by Christopher

Here's a link to Brian's music: https://briancitro.bandcamp.com/album/acoustic-pastime-solo-guitar

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vminity21 · 4 years ago

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Majesty | myg, pjm {Sneak Peek}

Pairing: Butler!Yoongi x Royal!Reader, Jester!Jimin x Princess!Reader, royalty!au

Word Count: 2.4k (Currently)

Genre: romance/angst/comedy

Summary: As Princess and future heir to the throne of the Eastern sector of the Globe, you live a conformed life to the castle under the scrutiny of your strict parents, King Anistol and Queen Lidabee. When your heart is first broken by the loss of your first love, you never imagined getting a brand new chance to fall in love again, but approached with the same circumstances. After years of rescuing servants and rebelling against your parents commands, you find yourself facing the consequences of another broken heart. When secrets arise to your attention, you learn things that you never thought possible, plotting yet another attempt at finding freedom.

Two years earlier….

Eggshell white curtains with glistening, gold embroidery are separated to welcome the tinging rays of light encompassing the room with warmth cascading along the deep red fabric coddling your frame; the cinching of the ribbon nearly makes you gasp as maiden LenLen provides the finishing touches of tying in your garment.

“I’m sorry your Highness,” she murmurs, swiftly gathering her equipment, “Queen Lidabee insisted on this dress.”

“Seems like she’s insisting for me not to breathe,” you mean it as a joke though your teeth are grit from the tightness along your waist, yet you provide your favorite maiden with a terse grin, “I thank you for your help, but I’m sure Her Kindliness will be very pleased to hear you’ve accomplished her goal in ending my life.”

Eyes rounding in fear, LenLen gasps, “But, Princess, you know I have no intention to-”

“I know,” you attempt to giggle, leaning closer to rest a hand on the maiden’s shoulder while your free palm clutches your abdomen, you lower your voice, “I’m only kidding, Len. By the way, I wasn’t hungry enough to stomach the lemon pastries Namjoon brought earlier, so you are more than welcome to take them,” giving her shoulder a brisk squeeze, LenLen’s expression softens to a mere delight.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been craving something sweet, your Highness,”

“Call me, [Y/N], Love. Her Majesty isn’t around to hound you, plus,” you wink knowingly, “Cravings seem to be stronger around this time of the season,”

When a canopy of realization dawns LenLen’s expression, her voice squeaks in surprise, “Guk told you- I mean,” she curtsies, “Count Jeongguk has informed you of my recent discovery?”

Joy sweeps your chest while a golden smile turns up the corners of your lips, “Indeed, he has. Your secret is safe with me,” you promise wholeheartedly, “When the time comes nearer, I will make sure you are moved to the countryside where you can safely focus on your pregnancy as well as raise your child without the scrutiny of the palace. However, Count Jeongguk figures to escape this hell of a castle, I will see to his protection.” Clearing your throat, you shrug, “Besides, when does Guk ever keep his mouth shut?”

“Oh, how wonderful you are!” LenLen clasps her hands in glee. Hugging you tight, she refrains from skipping out of the room to avoid unwanted attention when she pulls away, her gleaming eyes filled with hope for her future child and the man she hopes to wed one day. A future you refuse to let diminish due to the arrogancy settled upon the throne. Slowly turning to the mirror, makeup seems to do wonders when painted along your eyes, darkening your lashes to make the shade of your irises seem brighter. Happiness nowadays seems so farfetched, especially when all you dream of is abdicating your crown if only you could be given the choice. A choice of freedom.

You miss your father, Anistol, and the reminiscent of him actually being a father to you versus a loyal King to the eastern sector of the globe, which in some cases is understandable, but not an excuse to abandon his daughter even if she’s only a few corridors away. Your mother, Lidabee, has always had a cold countenance with the rarity of showing a motherly side which has always left you shattered and distant with an evident drop of confusion. In Lidabee’s eyes, a queen is to be proper and independent in her duties, and to stand for only royalty and providing a successful monarchy for their people whom they pride in caring for. But, in your heart, you know it is to an extent, or that is how it has always felt to you. They are not completely tyrants, but their control on preventing royal blood from mingling with anyone who they see as beneath them is a law not one person dares to break; when your palace friends dream of a better life, a better life is what you provide them, and for years you have managed to help the escape of many servants with the hopes of continuing your mission.

Many people in this sector of the globe find it honorable to serve their King and Queen especially you, their only daughter, the Princess, and future heir to the throne which pangs a grimace at the thought. Hence why there seems to be a never-ending supply of workers willing to accept whatever tasks are thrown at them to the point that the ones who have run have remained undetected. Now, if Count Jeongguk can keep his lips sealed for at least another few weeks, then you have confidence you can keep dearest Len hidden from your parents’ wrath.

“You look quite lovely, my Princess,” startled, you spin away from the mirror, immediate relief covering the profuse leap of your heart.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, regaining your composure, despite the discomfort of your girdle, “you frightened me.” A smirk quirks at the corner of his mouth, blonde tendrils thickly cover his forehead just a fraction from dipping into his eyelashes, and his arms keep their hold behind his straightened back.

“I do apologize, Princess, it was not my intention to scare you,”

“Then what do you propose was your intention, Sir Yoongi?” you muse. My how handsome he is, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks instantaneously with a blush burning the skin of your chest. Your palms press on either side of your hips while you lift an eyebrow teasingly. Almost missed it by a second, it’s as if a sadness pools in his umber eyes, but he regains another grin as if to bury a thought.

“I came to inform you of His Majesty’s plans to throw an honorable ball for the upcoming anniversary of his reign. He wants everyone to meet in the west wing at five this evening before the sun goes down.”

Stepping closer, eyes never leaving his, you elegantly poise your head with the same giddy tone, “You know you don’t have to speak so formally around me, Yoons. We are the only two in here,”

“I am aware,” he stiffens, though the yearning to hold you close heightens the obvious passion between the pair of you. Glaring suspiciously, you inch even closer, reaching to tidy his collar where the fabric is slightly wrinkled, and you notice the hitch in his breathing from where your palms then settle on his chest.

Silence beckons to the tension rising in the room of having to suppress the urge to mold your bodies together in an endless bliss of love that you hold for the man before you. Absentmindedly your fingers curl taut to the coat of his tuxedo and his lips part suddenly holding the same exact emotions you are battling, and just to feel another brink of proximity, you gently press your forehead to his chin where your shaky breaths mirror the way his mind is spinning a thousand miles a minute. Only seen as a Butler to the palace, he is much more than that to you, and the secret rendezvous the pair of you encountered have persisted despite the suspicions of your heart belonging to someone other than the marriage alliance your parents’ have subtly mentioned since your 23rd birthday. The horror of being married to anyone that you do not love is a nightmare you want to keep repressed until you can collect a brilliancy to disappearing to never be found and this idea derived the day you realized you were in love with the lead Butler, Min Yoongi.

In a painfully gradual movement, Yoongi shifts to brush his nose to the tip of yours where your insides nearly melt at the gesture, and even more so when his lips, soft and tepid, pause as if to ask for permission as he has done countless times. A gentleman he is to always consider you, even though he is whom you consider first.

“I-” you whisper against his mouth, but he stops you.

“Please don’t,” he pleads, a strain in his lowered voice that sparks a jolt of pain to clench your heart. No matter what, he will not let you say it, no matter how stubborn you want to be to ignore his wishes, you respect him, but for once you want to question him.

“Why? Yoongi, I lov-”

“Princess,” Yoongi sees it as a lost cause whereas you see it as a potential hope, but with the emotion etched in his whispers, you are starting to wonder if there is more to this then he is willing to say, but before you can ponder the doubt, he closes the gap and kisses you so softly for a moment, the turmoil is forgotten. His arms loosen from behind him before he hesitatingly grips his palms along your waist, his kiss captivating you while your fingertips move to grace the tips of his hair tickling the nape of his neck. And, if only you had known this was going to be the last moment enveloped in his arms with love igniting every crevice of the room, you would have activated your plan of escape that very moment.

Which is why Yoongi never tells you about the job relocation he was sentenced to serve.

“Please let me say it,” you are breathless, and you want to tease that it’s from the tension of the clothing smothering your frame, but Yoongi knows better than to believe that when you have equally smitten him to his core. “I want to say it. I want you.”

His fingers tenderly squeeze from where they have stayed glued to your waist in a perpetual longing to run away with you. If only he could bring himself to tell you the truth, of why he cannot bear to hear you say the words he would not hesitate to tell you in return; but knowing your obstinacy regarding desperate situations, he fears he would put your life in danger if he were to not think things through properly. “Princess,” his face is so close to you, his breath sweeping your lips still with the desire of wanting to kiss you infinitely, but he withholds. “Promise me you will not say it.” He whispers, masking the doting pain bristling across his heart knowing this will be the last time he ever sees you; he roughly swallows, especially when he sees your eyes misting with hushed tears, arms tightening behind his neck inching him closer to rest your face into the crook of his neck.

“Okay,” you whisper, your questions once again unanswered.

The following morning you stretch your arms to an abrupt yawn, sunshine streaming through the opened blinds, the faint sound of someone bustling into the room preparing trays of a steaming breakfast alerts you especially to your favorite sound of shuffling trays. Yoongi, you smile, opening your groggy eyes to reveal the long, tuxedo legs of Chef Namjoon.

Namjoon?

“Sir Joon?” Your eyes are widened now, mouth ajar as you gape at the all too familiar uniform fitted nicely to Namjoon’s figure. His brown hair tousled nicely despite you being used to seeing it hidden beneath a chef’s cap.

“Ah, good morning, Milady, I bring you breakfast from our newly and highly praised cook, Sir Taehyung,” bowing, his tight-lipped smile deepens his dimples while his eyes scrunch in a mild nervous tension. He is aware of your sudden curiosity of his presence being within your chambers when he is usually swept away into the royal scullery where he is assigned to teach and prepare delectable meals for the sovereigns of the kingdom.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, your Highness, he has been recognized by many royals throughout the globe. He is quite the avid traveler, so I have heard.” Namjoon turns to busy himself, gathering a plate to decorate with the scrumptious smells wafting to your nostrils.

“But you are the best chef in the eastern part of the globe! I’m sure Sir Taehyung means well, but I have always enjoyed your delicacies, have you been offered a promotion, or-?” Chef Namjoon pauses, a silent gloom lingers in the air as his shoulders stiffen, and he does not make eye contact as he normally does. After a prolonged pause, you speak, “Sir Joon? Is everything okay?”

“I have been assigned a new role, your Highness. I am no longer to be the lead Chef of His Majesty’s Kingdom.”

A shudder of a hasty apprehension springs an immediate denial, it cannot be. This really cannot be. Shaky breaths from your dry mouth are all that is heard echoing throughout your chambers, the air thickening in a way that seems as though your lungs are not satisfied, yet the mist in your eyes shows the evidence of dread knowing the truth Namjoon does not have to reveal.

Promise me you will not say it.

“Your new role?” you whimper, the world spinning as white sparks dance along your vision. No, you want to wail, no, this cannot be!

“I’m sorry your Highness,” Namjoon’s hoarse voice sounds, “I have been assigned to be the lead Butler according to Her Majesty.”

The devastating, painstaking blow to the chest nearly brings you to your knees when the wound bleeds openly for all to see; the tears did not stop flowing into the months to come, wishing nothing more for Yoongi to return: to comfort you, wrap you in his arms on the nights he would secretly visit your chambers, pouting playful remarks in retort to your teasing, or the knowing smiles each time the pair of you would pass each other in the large hallways where you mockingly mouthed whatever meaningless directions an apprentice would say.

He is all you see when you close your eyes every damned night, clutching your pillow to muffle your screams, the anguish of losing him excruciating when you crave nothing but to be with him. When you dream of the day of marrying him no matter how impossible your parents made it out to be. To tell Yoongi the three words you have always wanted to tell him. Now you know, you know of why he refused to let you profess your undying love for he knew it would be short lived with the consequences that follow from a royal intertangling with a commoner. This was his way to avoid the punishment your parents’ would have conjured up for your rebellion to the crown for an illicit affair with a butler; he knew you would stubbornly do anything to protect him, the same as he would do anything to protect you, and now you know why. You know the agonizing answer to why.

All of the memories flood back in waves of crippling sadness for the one man, you have grown to fall in love with who is now gone with not one possibility of finding where he may be waiting for your victory of escape to rescue him.

#btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #minthlynet #min yoongi #yoongi fic #park jimin #jimin fic #bts angst #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #yoongi angst #bts sneak peek #bts one shot #bts yoongi #bts jimin #bts park jimin #bts min yoongi

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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If You Ever Wanna Be In Love (I'll Come Around), Chapter Two (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: After a mix-up at work leads to Vanessa pretending she has a wife, she uses this fake wife to get out of work events. But when she runs out of excuses and needs a wife for a party, Vanessa finds herself turning to Nina’s friend Brooke, who just so happens to need a fake girlfriend.

Previously: Brooke and Vanessa agreed to a fake dating arrangement Now: Brooke pretends to be Vanessa’s wife at a work dinner.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback for chapter 1! It really does mean so much to me that you enjoyed it and are excited for more! I hope you like this chapter and leave feedback if you’d like! Thank you so much to Writ for betaing, you’re the absolute best <3 <3 <3.

Brooke dumps half her closet on the bed. She hasn’t done this in a while, hasn’t stalked around her room in a robe and makeup, trying to pick an outfit. Sure, she goes to work everyday with fierce eyeliner and sharp suits and silk shirts, but this is different. She’d been extra steady with her eyeliner, blending her contour until it was perfect, but she’s not sure why. Maybe she just wants to take advantage of the night and an opportunity to look nice. Maybe she wants to impress Vanessa–who’s definitely prettier than she remembered–and show her that she’s going to be the best fake wife she can be, good enough to turn heads and have them be the perfect couple at the party.

Whatever the reason, it has her rifling through every dress and pant suit she owns, trying to decide if purple or black or red is the right color, if she should go stripes or plain, form-fitting or loose. She and Vanessa exchanged numbers after coffee, and Brooke has a text asking what to wear half-written before deleting it all. No need to bother Vanessa over this. Eventually she pulls on the plain black dress that pops against her pale skin, figuring a classic will work.

Vanessa is smiling hesitantly when Brooke gets in her car, shooting out apologies for the mess. Brooke moves aside an old magazine advertising fun kids’ activities and settles in, legs bouncing as she gets a good look at Vanessa, soft waves tumbling down her back and dazzling teeth giving the sun a run for its money.

“You look nice,” Brooke says, hoping it’s okay to say. Vanessa does look nice, and she figures compliments should be part of their fake marriage. Her dad always complimented her mom whenever they went out, leaving Brooke and her sister with their grandma whose cloud of old-lady perfume almost dissolved their lungs.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“Thanks.” Brooke looks at her lap, panic growing as blocks pass in silence. She knows almost nothing about Vanessa, and somehow she has to convince people they’re married for the night. Can they really pull this off? This could be one of the worst situations she’s been in, aside from the time she and Nina tried to dye their hair pink after finals and spent the night scrubbing the dorm bathroom clean, pink staining their hands for days.

Vanessa peeks over at her when they hit a red light. “Hey, Brooke? Thank you for doing this. You really saved my ass.”

Brooke blushes. “You don’t have to thank me, it’s not any trouble. I would’ve just been watching Gilmore Girls with my cats for the third time.”

“Gilmore Girls?”

“It’s a really good show. Really soothing, too,” Brooke says. She doesn’t add anything else, doesn’t add whether Vanessa would like or not because she doesn’t know the kind of things Vanessa likes. Vanessa could be a horror movie fan for all she knows, but from the way she jumped out of her seat when a squirrel ran in front of the car, Brooke’s thinking that’s a no.

Vanessa nods. She cranks up the radio when Beyonce comes on, chattering about work, and as they drive further away, Brooke almost forgets her nerves.

—

Vanessa’s hands are stuck on the wheel as they pull into the restaurant parking lot. Brooke looks nice–a lot nicer than Vanessa expected. Her sleeveless dress reveals strong arms that taper into clever hands and long fingers, and Vanessa has to stop looking.

Brooke fidgets with her gold bracelet, and Vanessa knows she’ll have to take the lead to get them through this. She notices her own hands are sweaty, and she dries them on her dress, forcing herself to stay calm. Paul and everyone else already bought the fake wife story, Vanessa reminds herself. All she has to do is turn up the charm until they’re completely sold.

“We got this, right?” Vanessa meets Brooke’s eyes with a hopeful smile.

“Right. We go in, we act married, we get out,” Brooke says.

Vanessa laughs. “You’re making us sound like spies! Just relax, okay? Follow my lead and we’ll be fine, I promise.”

Brooke nods, and Vanessa hands her the second fake ring she’d gotten from the thrift shop. It shines in the dim parking lot lights, gaining its second life through Brooke.

Brooke opens her door then slams it, turning back to Vanessa. “Wait. How did we get engaged?”

“What’s it matter?”

“If I’m playing a part, I want to do it right. And what if someone asks? Our stories have to match so we don’t get caught in the lie.”

Vanessa takes a breath of awe. As absurd as this whole thing is, she clearly has the right person for it, someone careful and dedicated enough to make sure they succeed. Vanessa thinks for a second. “You proposed to me on the beach, at sunset.”

Brooke scoffs.

“What?”

“That’s so lame! That’s something a boring straight guy would do for his girlfriend he knows nothing about. If I’m gonna propose to you, it would be better than that!”

“It’s not even a real proposal!” Vanessa argues, though part of her is touched that even if it is fake, Brooke wants her to have something nice.

“Still,” Brooke insists.

“Got any ideas?”

“What would your dream proposal be?” Brooke asks. “Not some generic beach thing. Something special.”

Vanessa’s pictured her wedding before—gold sun streaking through red and orange leaves as her dress flows behind her on the walk to her wife, the fall air crisp as an apple-—but hasn’t considered all the exhausting details and planning that would get her to that point.

“Well, don’t laugh, but I had a pirate thing when I was little. My mom would put coins and toys in the sandbox and give me a map and I’d dig for them. So let’s say you did a little treasure hunt that ended in the proposal.” Vanessa never knew how much she wanted something like this, something to show her wife knows her like no one else, but as she speaks, she can see it happening. Her breathlessly flipping over a tattered map to see neat lines and bright red X. Her going through each step, faster and faster as her excitement builds, until she reaches the end and Brooke is on one knee with a box—

Vanessa shakes her head to clear out the image.

Brooke smiles. “I like that. It’s nice.” She leans in closer, like she’s sharing a secret. “I had a dinosaur thing, so I won’t laugh.”

“Seems like you still have a dinosaur thing, Miss Museum Head,” Vanessa teases.

Brooke blushes, and Vanessa’s heart leaps. “I guess I do.”

There’s a beat of silence, and they both realize this is it. Doors slam, locks click, and they give each other one last nod before entering the restaurant.

The small restaurant room Paul reserved is packed with disgruntled library employees eager for a night off, and every single head spins toward her and Brooke. A few mouths drop open, and Vanessa grins. They do look impressive, Brooke’s black dress flowing down her long frame, a perfect match for Vanessa’s red dress with tiny black stars, one of her favorite thrift store finds.

But beyond the outfits is something Vanessa can’t quite describe. She gets a look at her and Brooke in a mirror on the wall, and something about them looks right, like they could be on opposite sides of the room and you would still know they were a couple. Maybe it’s the way Vanessa leans into the space around Brooke, or the way Brooke slows her pace for Vanessa’s matchstick legs, but there’s some sort of magic bubbling around them.

Couples cling like koalas and Vanessa throws an awkward arm around Brooke’s waist to look more couple-y. Brooke stiffens slightly before relaxing into it.

Paul runs over. “So you’re Vanessa’s wife,” he says to Brooke, pumping her hand up and down with no sign of stopping.

“That’s me,” Brooke agrees. “I’m Brooke, if Vanessa hasn’t told you.”

“Actually, she hasn’t,” Paul says, giving Vanessa a look. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for months but Vanessa says you’ve been sick a lot lately. I hope you’re doing better after your stomach problems last week?”

Brooke shoots Vanessa a death glare, but she still answers warmly. “I’m much better now, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it.” Paul ushers them over to the table, and Vanessa quickly pulls her arm back.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “Just thought we needed a little touching.”

“It’s fine,” Brooke says, sighing in relief as they slide next to Nina at the table.

Vanessa quickly makes the introductions to her coworkers. Silky smiles devilishly and A’keria and Yvie narrow their eyes, serving as her test panel for the night, to see if she and Brooke can really sell things for the admins.

“Now, about those stomach problems?” Brooke demands. Her eyebrows are furrowed and Vanessa has to consciously stop looking at how adorable the expression makes her.

“Well, when I don’t want to go to parties, I use you as an excuse sometimes,” Vanessa says sheepishly.

Brooke pinches the bridge of her nose. “And how many times have you said I was sick?”

Vanessa shrugs. “I kinda…lost count?”

Brooke groans, heaving a mighty sigh. “I really hope this food is better than slightly-above-average.”

—

The food, it turns out, is actually better than Vanessa expected. She makes her way through fish in lemon butter, but Brooke’s lasagna came with garlic bread that’s calling her name. They’re supposed to be married, after all, so why the hell not? She reaches over and grabs a chunk. Brooke then asks for a bite of fish, and Vanessa knows from her friends’ approving nods and the calm behavior of the others that they’re completely selling the wife thing.

Vanessa doesn’t know what exactly makes a marriage look real, but she follows stuff her parents did—sharing food and joking with each other, letting their hands brush every now and then, each one making her whole arm tingle.

Brooke does her part wonderfully, no question about it. She maintains her calm all through dinner, answering question after question about herself and work. Even though Brooke seems to hold back when she talks about her job, like she’s afraid no one is interested, Vanessa finds herself really engrossed in what Brooke does, no acting required.

Brooke does a lot more than look at bones all day, Vanessa learns. She supervises the museum’s dinosaur collection and has been working on a special summer exhibit for months, getting permission to borrow a T-Rex skull from another museum. She’s also started more kids’ programs, special events and days just for them. As she speaks, Vanessa can see it. She can see Brooke strutting across the museum’s stone floor in a sharp black suit, opening up a crate of fossils and grinning like a little kid, staying at the museum long past closing to set it all up. It makes her smile, and the smile doesn’t leave.

Vanessa also learns that Brooke likes hiking on the weekends, and she’s grateful they’re not really married, because if she ever had to tag along on a hiking date she’d probably pass out.

When they walk back to the car amidst Paul shouting his hopes to see Brooke again, Vanessa feels sad somehow, like the thrill of tonight is fading.

“I, um, I had a nice time tonight,” Brooke says quietly, after Vanessa starts driving. “I haven’t been out in a while. I’ve been focusing on the T-Rex exhibit since January. Haven’t had time for much else.”

Vanessa nods. “Yeah, I get it. We get a lot more kids in the library for summer, I’ve been pulling crafts out of my ass to have more activities. But I love it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Brooke says, grabbing her purse as they pull up in front of her apartment. “Um, I’ll text you about the party at my mom’s, okay?”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Vanessa almost wishes the night didn’t have to end, that they could still buzz with that same magic that overtook them in the restaurant. She wonders if she’s getting her wish when Brooke releases the door and turns back to her.

“Your ring,” Brooke explains, and it hits Vanessa again that this is all fake, just an act. Brooke’s face falls as she tries to twist the ring off. “It’s stuck.”

“What do you mean,stuck?”

“I mean it’s stuck!”

“But it went on okay.” Vanessa shakes her head. “I bet you crack your knuckles. My mom made me stop, said I’d get big knuckles—“

“That’s a myth!” Brooke shoots back, tugging harder on the ring.

“Let me help.” Vanessa twists it with her, trying not to hurt Brooke.

“If I lose my finger, I’m mailing it to you so it can haunt you forever,” Brooke says, a hint of panic creeping into her voice.

“No one is losing a finger! Hang on, I have lotion.” Vanessa grabs the mini bottle of Aveeno in her purse and rubs it into Brooke’s hand, trying not to think of how soft—albeit sweaty—her skin is. Vanessa gives one last tug that sends her flying into the door, ring triumphantly in her fist.

Brooke massages her hand, then meets Vanessa’s gaze. Suddenly, they both erupt into laughter so fierce it brings tears to Vanessa’s eyes and makes her stomach hurt. I’m that moment, Brooke becomes more real to her, shaking and snorting with laughter, her face stretched into a grin. Brooke isn’t just someone who passes dishes at Nina’s without being asked, but someone Vanessa thinks she might want to know more, and she’s suddenly grateful for the birthday party coming up, grateful for more time with her.

“Okay, okay,” Vanessa wheezes. “Good night, for real.”

“Good night.”

Brooke gracefully walks into the building, and Vanessa finds herself staring at the empty space Brooke occupied long after she’s safely inside.

—

Brooke can’t quite believe it, but dinner with Vanessa was fun. Even with the number of questions Vanessa’s coworkers threw at her and the answers she had to keep spitting out, things began to feel less like a contest to prove their fake relationship and more like a real dinner party.

Vanessa is funnier than Brooke had remembered, telling story after story about the library’s chaos, from the time a grown man got stuck in the bathroom to the woman who almost went over the library desk when she found out there was no vending machine in the children’s room. Vanessa acts her stories out like she’s on stage, changing her voice and making exaggerated faces and swinging her arms all over the place.

She and Nina meet for their weekly breakfast the next day, and it’s nice to be around her warmth, nice to be around someone who knows the previous night was fake, freeing Brooke from pretending to be someone else. Even so, all Nina can talk about is how well Brooke and Vanessa did.

“I’m just saying, you really pulled it off,” Nina says around a mouthful of toast. “And she took some of your food! That was so cute, did you plan that?”

Brooke shakes her head, turning to the waffles she won’t have to share with anyone today. Not that she had really minded Vanessa’s slim wrist darting to her plate. “We didn’t plan it. She literally just stole my garlic bread.”

“Well, it worked. You looked so natural. I know A’keria, Silky, and Yvie were impressed, and they’re hard to win over.”

Brooke smiles a little at that. You can’t assign grades for being someone’s fake wife, but Brooke likes knowing she did a good job.

“Yeah. Vanessa’s gonna be my fake girlfriend at my mom’s in two weeks, and then I guess that’s that.”

“You’re really just doing the two things and that’s it?” Nina stares at her in surprise.

Brooke looks down, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah? I mean, that’s what we agreed to…” she trails off. After last night, she was starting to think that more time with Vanessa could be a nice thing. Vanessa is funny and kind and charming, almost like Nina in a way, and Brooke was sucked into her personality in the dim restaurant lights. But now, in the cold morning light, the effects have worn off. They’re just two people who barely know each other, pretending to be in a relationship a few times. They might keep in touch after, talk at Nina’s parties, but there’s nothing more than that.

“Well, maybe you could stay friends after and do things,” Nina says. “You seemed like you had fun.”

“Yeah.” Brooke shovels some waffles into her mouth, because Nina is right and they both know it. Luckily, Nina moves the conversation onto the library carnival they’re having, and Brooke can forget all about last night.

—

That night, Brooke’s phone buzzes while she’s curled up with the cats, watching TV. Her heart flutters a little when she sees the sender.

Vanessa Mateo: So how long do I have to wait for Lorelai and Luke to get together?

Vanessa Mateo: Is Rory gonna end up with this Dean guy?

Vanessa Mateo: I need answers!

Brooke’s fingers hover over the phone. It’s been a while since she’s texted someone besides Nina or her mom, and she’s not sure how to approach this. Just as friends, she tells herself, and begins to type.

Brooke Lynn Hytes: You’ll just have to wait and see ;)

Vanessa Mateo: Brooke Lynn Hytes did you just winky face me???

Brooke Lynn Hytes: ;) ;)

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #nina west #yvie oddly #silky nutmeg ganache #akeria davenport #branjie #lesbian au #fake dating au #s11 #fluff #if you ever wanna be in love #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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my-proof-is-you · 5 years ago

Text

Just One Week - Part 1

Dean x Reader AU

A broken engagement leads you to go on your honeymoon alone to pick up the pieces of your heart. While there, you meet an incredibly handsome man to spend the week with. Being around a guy again should have been the last thing on your mind.

But hey, it’s just one week...right?

Masterlist

You

As the plane touched down, you looked out the window, asking yourself for the millionth time what you were doing.

You stood up, getting your carry-on down from the overhead compartment. A sweet-looking older lady stood in the aisle behind you, and gave you a small smile. You saw her look into your row--as if she was looking for someone else--before averting her gaze.

That’s right, lady. I’m all alone.

You rolled your eyes and continued down the aisle. When you got off the plane you were surrounded immediately by the perfect Hawaii weather. Despite the crushing sadness you were feeling, the warm sun made you smile a bit.

An hour later you were at your resort, complete with a lei around your neck and a Mai Tai in hand. Though you couldn’t believe you went on your honeymoon alone, you were ready to do whatever it took to forget the son-of-a-bitch that got you there in the first place.

Dean

Being on vacation was the last thing Dean wanted to do.

His stupid brother dragged him to Hawaii. He claimed all Dean did was “work” and that “he needed to take a break.”

Psh. Spending sixty hours a week in my auto shop was hardly what I would call “work.”

“Dude, remind me again why I’m here,” he said, walking next to his brother toward the resort entrance.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Because, you were running on E, man. It was time for a break.”

“Yeah, Dean, there’s nothing wrong with taking a little time off. Surf...swim...ladies?” Cas said, throwing his arm around Dean’s shoulders. Cas was the third participant in the “guys trip,” and Sam and Dean’s best friend.

“I can get ladies at home!” Dean insisted.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked, challenging. “And when was the last time you even went on a date?”

“Uh…” Dean sputtered.

“Exactly. So shut up,” Sam said with a smirk. “It’s just one week.”

“Bitch,” Dean replied.

“Jerk.” Sam shoved his brother a little bit. The men were coming up on the front desk, and Sam stepped up to check them in.

Dean’s eyes scanned the lobby of the resort, taking it all in for the first time. Cas stood by the other end of the check-in desk to his right, filling a plastic cup with lemon-infused water. The rest of the room was huge, complete with fancy looking couches and an indoor fountain. In the center of the room was a wrap-around bar with every liquor imaginable.

It was when his eyes got to the elevators that he finally saw something he found interesting.

You were wearing a simple black sundress that hit just above your knees. Your long Y/H/C hair was flowing down in relaxed waves, and Dean could tell even from a distance that your eyes were a beautiful shade of Y/E/C.

The thing that really got his attention, though, was your smile.

At first glance, you didn’t look very happy. Dean kept watching mindlessly for a minute, though, and saw you interact with an employee of the resort. He took your bag for you, and you smiled at him in thanks.

It was beautiful.

Before he could think about you anymore, though, the elevator doors opened and you disappeared inside.

“Dude, you ready?” Cas asked, nudging Dean. He snapped back to attention and looked at his friend.

“Yeah, let’s get this week started,” he said, shouldering his bag and heading toward the elevators. “God knows it won’t be over soon enough,” he added under his breath.

You

Your empty room was depressing you. Especially since it was all set up to be the honeymoon suite. It was a really nice room, complete with a king sized bed, Jacuzzi tub, and big, open balcony. There were rose petals everywhere, though, the floral smell making you want to gag. You decided you needed to get out.

More importantly, you needed to get drunk.

You put on one of your new bikinis and checked yourself in the mirror. Your body wasn’t quite where you had wanted it to be before your wedding. Correction: your body wasn’t quite where Matt had wanted it to be before the wedding. You were curvy, but still looked good in the swimsuit. You threw on your cover-up and grabbed your beach bag, walking out the door and heading down to the pool.

You stopped at one of the many bars and ordered yourself a long island iced tea, opting for something a little stronger than your first drink. You ordered an additional shot of tequila, ignoring your inner voice telling you not to.

I need this, bitch, you told her.

You settled on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool, removing your cover-up and slathering on some sunscreen before reading a magazine while you waited for your drinks to come.

You looked up from your magazine when you heard the playful joking of a group of guys...well, men was more like it.

The three men that walked on the other side of the pool were nothing short of gorgeous.

The tallest one had flowing chestnut hair. You usually didn’t like long hair on guys, but he was totally working it.

The shortest had dark hair and a perfectly lopsided smile.

The one in the middle, though, had you biting your lip.

He had disheveled, sandy blonde hair and perfect green eyes that you could see the color of even at your distance. When they found three chairs together, he removed his shirt.

Your mouth almost started watering.

He was chiseled, and he had the look of a man that knew how to put in a hard day’s work.

God, Y/N, get it together. You aren’t here to check out guys. You’re here to heal.

You forced yourself to look back down at your magazine, ignoring the sound of the men’s splashes as they jumped into the pool.

Dean

She’s here.

Dean’s eyes were immediately drawn to you, the girl he’d seen by the elevators. Cas and Sam were joking around as the three of them got settled in their chairs, but Dean couldn’t join in wholeheartedly. He was distracted by the sight of you in a bikini.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Sam said, nudging Dean with his elbow.

“She’s by herself. She probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try,” Cas added.

“I thought this was supposed to be a guys’ trip!”

“I think I speak for both of us when I say that you need to get laid,” Cas said with a smirk. Dean punched him in the arm.

“You have to admit...you’ve been pretty uptight lately. You should at least give it a shot. Invite her to hang out,” Sam said with an encouraging smile.

Dean thought about it. He didn’t really want to be on the vacation in the first place. But if he was going to be there, he may as well try to have a good time. Besides, who even knows if you’re single?

It’s worth a shot.

You

A few minutes later your drinks came, the waiter placing them down next to you. You gave him a small tip so he would keep the drinks coming.

“You’re not messing around, huh?” you heard from near your feet. You lowered your magazine and saw the guy you were checking out leaning on his forearms at the edge of the pool closest to you.

You felt your heart pick up a little. Damn, look at that perfect smile.

“You could say that,” you responded before downing your shot.

“Hmm. My buddies and I will have to play catch-up.” He gave you a crooked smile and you felt yourself smiling back at him.

“And who says you’re invited to my personal drinking party?” you asked cheekily.

He pulled himself out of the water, causing the muscles in his arms to bulge. You blinked up at him as he came to sit in the lounge chair next to you.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda lonely, I guess.”

You felt your face fall at that. He wasn’t wrong.

“Well I’m also not so sure about spending time with three strange men.”

“Well...my name is Dean,” he said, sticking out his hand. You shook it, an eyebrow raised. “That’s my brother Sam,” he said, pointing to the tallest man. “And that’s our friend, Cas.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“See? Not strangers,” he said before giving you a megawatt smile. “C’mon, it’s just one week.”

You thought about what he was saying. You were going to be cautious, of course. But you were only two hours into your vacation and you could already tell that going it alone wasn’t going to work.

“Okay. But I have conditions.”

Dean gestured with his hand as if to say, “go ahead.”

“Until I feel like I can trust you, we only hang out in public.”

“Smart,” he said, nodding.

“And you guys are buying the drinks,” you said with a smirk. “But only where I can see them. Just in case.”

“Again, smart.”

“And...my name is Y/N.”

He smiled again. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14

@divadinag

@lynne1993

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

@infj-slytherclaw

@onethirstyunicorn

@sammykb1994

Deanies:

@tftumblin

@deans-baby-momma

@akshi8278

@weepingwillowphoenix

@playingdeep17

@justanotherwinchester

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fedonciadale · 5 years ago

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The Phoenix Potion - chapter 50 - Goblin silver at Malfoy manor

So, here is another chapter, set in current times, focusses on the mystery.... Also on AO3.

When Harry arrived at the Manor, he almost thought he had come to the wrong place. The dining room was a mess. There were huge stacks of books lying around, ready to be packed.

Harry pretended that nothing was amiss. He had learned from earlier visits, that it was better to go with Narcissa’s explanations just in case. Narcissa had dodged the side effects of the cut out for almost two decades after all and as far as Harry knew she had never been thrown out of the house.

He gave Narcissa the pale pink roses he had brought as a gift, the cake he had purchased at the street shop of Fortescue and Miller.

“I know you have plenty of roses in your garden, but I do think the colour suits you.”

Harry gave her a bow. “And I have bought this cake. It is from a muggle caterer, but apparently it is very good, and a huge success. I had a taste of it myself at Neville’s and Pansy’s wedding and it is delicious. Chocalate-lemon flavour. I left their card in the bag. There is a number on that card. Muggles have these devices they call phones and they use the numbers and then they speak to each other.” She would have to puzzle this out. Harry did not dare to show her how it worked.

Narcissa smiled. “How thoughtful of you, Mr. Potter. Pardon the mess. I’ll make some tea before you can tell me why you came.”

“I donated some of the books of our library to Hogwarts,” Narcissa told him, with a wave of her hand over the book stacks. “The headmaster wrote to me and it seems that they are sadly lacking in some important fields.”

Harry arched an eyebrow. “Some books, I see,” he remarked.

“The Head girl even wrote me a thank you letter.” Narcissa beamed.

“Did she?” Harry blinked, wondering how a letter by Rina Granger-Malfoy had reached Narcissa safely.

Narcissa’s instinct were well tuned to Harry’s unspoken question. “She just wrote as the Head Girl. She didn’t even bother to give a name. I got the feeling she coerced the Head Boy into adding a few lines and she sent a photo with some students from every house.”

She smiled and showed Harry the photo.

“Students from every house.” That was technically true. Rina Granger-Malfoy with her co-head, siblings and a friend from Ravenclaw would also be an accurate description. The children sat in the sun at the Lake and waved happily. Leave it to the Malfoys to find loopholes. Harry shook his head, but he also had to fight a smile. The books were priceless, old, dusty tomes, probably unique Harry was sure. Another way to reduce the Malfoy fortune.

Narcissa went off to prepare tea and Harry was surprised, when she came back into the living room with a huge teapot.

“Mrs Malfoy, I cannot possibly drink that much tea.” Harry protested.

“I am expecting some goblins. It’s not all for you.”

“Do you intend to throw a tea party for goblins?”, Harry asked.

Narcissa shook her head. “It has recently come to my attention, that goblins have quite a different concept on ownership and possession than we, witches and wizards, have.”

She pointed at the silver dishes that were on display in the cupboards of the dining room.

“Can you imagine that all this goblin made silver wasn’t really in the possession of the Malfoys? If you accept the goblins’ idea on possessions, we just borrowed it and the gold we gave for them was just a fee.”

She calmly stirred milk and sugar into her tea.

“As it happens, Pumka, a goblin silversmith contacted me just about the time I had become aware of this very interesting fact in a conversation with an international expert on magical beings. Pumka will arrive shortly to discuss the conditions of the return. It happens that the goblins are keen on retrieving old goblin made silver. They claim that they have lost some of their abilities in metalworking and want to hone their skills by studying their old craft.”

She raised the teacup to her lips. “They are so eager to get their hands on the old goblin silver that they would even forego suing me for centuries of fees, the Malfoys neglected to pay for the continuous use of the goblin silverware.”

She sipped slowly and put the cup back on the saucer. “That would hardly be fair though. I want to pay my debts, don’t you agree Mr. Potter? And I had my fair share of trials. It is not as if I would set a precedent. I will be careful to avoid that.”

Harry was flummoxed. “I do have my doubts if other wizarding families will follow the same policy of being so lenient with their money, but it makes perfect sense for you.”

“Oh yes, it does, after all money is not that important. I recently read in the Daily Prophet that wizards have heated discussion on money and happiness and how they are connected in public. It even came to brawls, if you can believe that.”

Harry laughed out loud, even coming close to tears by the description of Ron’s and Malfoy’s brawl as a philosophical discussion. He wiped his eyes. “I got a firsthand account by several eyewitnesses. No bones were broken.”

“I am glad to hear that. We should be civilised after all.”

She opened the box with the cake, cut it and served a piece to Harry.

“If you happen to learn more about why the goblins are so eager about the old silver, I would be very much obliged, if you could tell me. I have a case that might involve goblins.” Harry could not see how this might tie in with the money laundering, but it never hurt to look for connections. He sipped from his own tea. As always it was a most delicious blend. Mixed with the cake it was a treat.

“I have a theory,” Narcissa said. “This silver is older than the goblin rebellion. When goblins made them, they were still allowed to use wands. And that in turn makes the silver more ready to absorb spells and charms.”

“Like the enchantment on the sword of Gryffindor, that makes it absorb the magic of the defeated.”

Narcissa nodded.

Harry would have to ponder this. He doubted that it was good news if goblins indeed needed spellabsorbable silver. He remembered that cursed jewellery often was of goblin origin. The cursed necklace that had almost killed Katie Bell came to his mind.

If goblins wanted to re-buy goblin made trinkets all over the country, they needed money. And he was certain, that no other wizarding family would give them money in addition to returning the silver. So, the need for money was a given, the question remained why.

When they had finished their pieces of the cake which was just as delicious as Harry remembered, Narcissa finally asked what had brought him to the Manor.

“I need one of your memories. When my friends and I were brought here by Snatchers and we escaped, Severus Snape saved your life and the life of…. others.”

Narcissa suppressed a shudder. “Not a pleasant memory.”

“I know, and I am sorry. The involved house elf would barely even talk to me, and I’ve already asked Severus’ portrait in Hogwarts, but it was one of the spells he developed after he had prepared his portrait. He was in haste when he prepared the portrait and he had focused on what he had to tell me about the horcruxes. Some of his inventions are lost.”

“As are some of the inventions he initiated,” Narcissa remarked. “or potions. He was a skilled potions master after all.”

Harry would not be side-tracked by discussion on the Phoenix potion. “I’m certain he didn’t teach it to anyone as it is potentially very dangerous. I think he used it that day, though…..” Harry let his voice trail off, before he was tempted to say Malfoy’s name. He could hardly call Draco ferret or Malfoy in Narcissa’s hearing.

“The spell that seemingly syphons magical strength from one person to another?”

“Yes, that’s the very one.”

“Whatever he did, he used it nonverbally.”

“I know, but I wanted to have a look. It might give me a clue.”

“Has someone used this spell?”

Harry nodded. “And if my suspicion is correct, a muggleborn child of ten has died because of it.”

“If muggleborn children were introduced earlier to wizarding society crimes like that might be prevented,” Narcissa remarked.

Harry blinked rapidly, his eyes widening.

“Why do you look so surprised, Mr Potter? You’ve come for years to pick my brain, to get my help in fighting dark magic. You can’t be surprised that I have changed some of my opinions. There is a muggleborn witch whose name keeps slipping my mind who makes very valid points about muggleborns in the Quibbler.”

She poured herself more tea, her mouth set in a hard line.

“I apologize, Mrs Malfoy” Harry was contrite. “It makes absolute sense that a woman of your intelligence would be convinced by sound arguments.”

She mellowed at his compliment.

Harry winked at her. “It might be an excellent idea to fund projects that try to remedy that horrid situation.”

“That, Mr Potter, is an excellent idea.”

She stood. “Let’s have a look at that memory.”

She led him to the Malfoy pensieve and she even accompanied him when he looked in.

Afterwards they agreed that the spell Severus had used had a turquoise hue that suggested that it was not inherently malevolent but could be used like that.

“Not deadly per se,” Narcissa concluded. “Potentially deadly if all magic is drained.”

“Or if one would manage to perpetuate the spell.” Harry frowned. They really needed to find that carrier.

“I am sure, that Severus had an idea about that as well.”

“I really wish we could see Draco’s memory of the application of his scutum.” Harry spoke his thoughts out loud in his frustration.

He barely heard Narcissa’s cry before the house threw him out. He landed on the pavement in front of the manor’s gates, bruises and scratches all over him in a matter of seconds.

Harry cursed his own stupidity. He waved his wand and sent his patronus back into the manor to tell Narcissa that he was unharmed and that he would return at the earliest opportunity, when the house had settled down. He groaned when he picked himself up. Experience told him that he could not hex these bruises away. He would carry them as a reminder of his stupidity.

“Almost forty,” he mumbled to himself. “And I still don’t know when not to speak a name out loud. Should have called him ferret after all.”

#Dramione #Dramione fic #Harry Potter #Narcissa Malfoy #Phoenix Potion #Chapter 50 #Goblin silver at Malfoy Manor #My ridiculous headcanon #I might as well admit that this is also a murder mystery

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