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rhosyn-du · 3 years ago

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Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Eight

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Eight

“If you’re taking me to a strip club, I’m walking out and crashing Magnus’s bachelor party.”

“Dude, have a little faith.” Jace grabbed Alec’s elbow and helped him out of the car.

“And stop scrunching your nose to try to see through the blindfold,” Izzy said from Alec’s other side. “We can see you doing it. Besides, do you really think there aren’t going to be strippers at Magnus’s party? Have you met Catarina and Ragnor?”

“Yes, and I trust their taste in strippers more than I trust yours.”

“I think I’m supposed to be insulted,” Izzy said, opening a door so Jace could usher Alec through, “but honestly, I kind of just want to ask Cat if she knows any good strip clubs I can take Clary to for our next date night.”

Alec made a pained sound. “Can I request a moratorium on anything that involves strippers and any of my siblings?”

“You can request it,” Jace said, “but it doesn’t mean we’ll listen. Mind the gap; you’re about to step into an elevator.”

“Isn’t my bachelor party supposed to be about things I like?”

Izzy pushed the button for their floor. “No, it’s supposed to be about doing things with your friends and siblings before you get married and forget all about us.”

“Iz, I meet you for drinks literally every week. I’m not going to stop just because Magnus and I are married instead of engaged.” A slow smile spread across Alec’s face. “I’m marrying Magnus tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you are.” Jace patted Alec’s shoulder as the elevator doors slid open. “Almost there, buddy.”

They led Alec out of the elevator and down the hall.

“Okay stop,” Izzy said when they reached their destination. “You can take the blindfold off now.”

Alec made a show of keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he pulled off the blindfold, opening one eye slowly as though bracing for something horrible. Jace saw the moment Alec recognized where he was, his shoulders relaxing all at once.

Alec glanced between his siblings, unimpressed. “This is the door to our loft. I live here.”

“I told you I was going to plan you the perfect bachelor party,” Jace said. “Did you really want to spend your last night as a single man somewhere else?”

“Your party awaits, big brother,” Izzy said, swinging the door open.

“Alexander!” Magnus met them at the door, smiling broadly. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up.”

“We had to drive around enough that he wouldn’t know where we were going,” Jace explained. “You know what his crazy sense of direction is like.”

Alec gave his fiancé a questioning look. “What happened to separate bachelor parties being an important part of the tradition?”

“Ragnor and Catarina reminded me that some traditions really aren’t that important,” Magnus said airily. “Especially when breaking them would make you happy.”

“He means he sulked and whined about having to spend all night away from you until we suggested a joint party,” Catarina said, handing Alec a martini and Izzy something dark and fruity with far too many cherries. “And then he pretended like it was all our idea.”

“It was pitiful, really,” Ragnor added. “At one point, he actually languished on my couch to moan about it like some discount gothic heroine.”

“And on that note,” Magnus said, taking Alec’s arm, “my fiancé and I will be going to join our friends who don’t intend to spend all evening mocking me.”

“That’s really sweet, you know,” Alec said as he let Magnus lead him away.

“Well,” Ragnor said, “it’s my duty as Magnus’s co-best-man to make sure he is sufficiently mocked this evening, so I suppose I must follow.” He looked at Jace and Izzy. “I believe Clary and Simon are in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the cupcakes.”

Jace threw Izzy a questioning look. “Cupcakes?”

Izzy shook her head. “Must have been something Ragnor and Catarina planned. Let’s go see.”

The cupcakes, it turned out, were dick-shaped. And because it was Clary decorating them, they were very accurately dick-shaped.

“Oh yeah,” Izzy laughed, “this was definitely Cat’s doing.”

“Cat was in charge of baking, I’m in charge of decorating,” Clary confirmed, eyeing the cupcake she was working on critically. “Devil’s food cake with a chocolate-and-whiskey ganache filling and a variety of different icings. We’re calling them cock-cakes. Simon, pass me the lemon buttercream?”

“You got it, boss,” Simon said, grabbing one of the many pastry bags lined out on the counter and handing it to Clary before stepping over to Jace and greeting him with a warm smile that made Jace’s insides melt. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” Jace couldn’t help his answering smile, couldn’t help drawing Simon into a soft kiss that felt easier than it probably should. “If I knew you were going to be creating culinary dick art without me, I would have made Iz drive Alec around on her own.”

“I’m mostly just assisting.” Simon leaned into him, stealing another quick kiss. “Clary’s the real artistic genius behind this masterpiece.”

“It’s true, my girlfriend is a genius,” Izzy agreed happily, walking over to wrap her arms around Clary’s waist from behind.

“Right now, this artistic genius is being distracted from finishing her cupcakes by too many people in the kitchen. You two,” she gestured at Simon and Jace, “take that finished tray out to the table.”

“Wait, how come we have to be the ones to leave?” Simon wondered. “Izzy’s being way more distracting than we are.”

“Because she’s cuter than you are,” Clary said without looking up from her cupcakes. “Go.”

Jace looked at Simon. “The lady has spoken, I guess. Come on, let’s go watch Alec pretend he doesn’t think these cupcakes are hilarious.”

~~~

Jace couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. He wasn’t sure he ever had been this happy. The joint bachelor party had been a rousing success—cock-cakes, a stripper who was definitely not better than he would have hired, and all—and Jace was so glad he and Izzy had been able to help do this for Alec. And it had been amazing to see Alec so joyful and so obviously in love, to see Izzy and Clary and how happy they made each other. To feel the possibility of a love like that for himself every time Simon took his hand, to see it every time Simon smiled at him, to hear it every time Simon said his name.

It was enough to make him want to be a little reckless. Maybe even reckless enough to tell Simon that he was more to Jace than a fake-boyfriend-with-benefits, that Jace wanted them to be more. It was hardly a new thought, but Jace thought that maybe he was finally ready to say the words out loud.

“Hey, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” Simon said, as if reading his thoughts. “When we get back to the hotel,” he added, throwing a pointed glance at their Uber driver.

Jace smiled at him. “Sure. I actually wanted to talk to you, too.”

“Cool.” Simon sounded nervous. Jace could relate. Now that this was actually happening, he felt like he had an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies in his chest.

Jace’s butterflies hadn’t calmed down any by the time they made it back to their room, and he could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off Simon as he kicked his shoes off and started pulling out his clothes for morning.

“So,” Jace said, leaning against the wall with an affected casualness, “what did you want to talk about?”

Simon squared his shoulders, turned to face him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jace’s whole world rocked sideways. “What?”

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go.

“This whole fake dating thing. It was a mistake. I probably shouldn’t even have suggested it in the first place, but I thought—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong, and I can’t keep pretending with you, so.” He took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself. “So, this is has to be it. After the wedding tomorrow, no more pretending.”

“Oh.” It was all Jace could find it in himself to say. He reached for the bravado he would normally wrap around himself in a situation like this, but it had deserted him entirely. “I can’t keep pretending with you.” It had all been pretend for Simon. And Jace didn’t even have any right to be hurt by it, because it was what he’d agreed to.

“It’s just,” Simon continued, “seeing Alec and Magnus so happy tonight, and seeing the way Clary and Izzy are together, and even the dumb text Becky sent me earlier about how excited she is to see Maia tomorrow, it all made me realize just how much I want that. I want it with someone I love who loves me back, and you—”

“And I’m not a relationship kind of guy,” Jace finished for him. He didn’t actually need to hear all the reasons that would never be him. He was aware of his own failings.

“Right.” Simon’s voice was barely above a whisper, all his nervous energy having drained away.

“I get it.” Jace forced a smile. Maybe he couldn’t be someone Simon wanted to really be with, but he could at least pretend he wasn’t devastated by that fact. “You deserve that kind of happiness, maybe more than anyone I know. I hope—” He drew in a sharp breath. He would not let his voice tremble. “I hope you find someone who can give it to you.”

He turned away, unable to maintain the facade any longer. “I’m going to hit the shower before bed.” He wasn’t proud of having to hide the bathroom with his feelings, but he couldn’t stay here with Simon, not now.

Jace spent a long time under the shower’s spray. Until he was sure Simon must have fallen asleep. Until he was sure all his tears had washed away.

~~~

Best man duties were almost enough to distract Jace from his own problems for most of the next morning, and he threw himself into making sure everyone in the wedding party was where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be, keeping Max away from anything flammable, and keeping Maryse and Robert away from each other. In the thankfully rare moments of downtime, he forced himself to put on a lighthearted demeanor. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of Alec having a perfect wedding, especially not his own stupid feelings.

He should have known that Alec would see right through him.

“You okay?”

Jace glanced up from the mirror he was using to fix his bowtie. Everything was set, everyone was in their proper places, and Jace had nothing left to do but keep Alec company and wait for the ceremony to start.

“I’m fine. I’m not the one getting married in,” Jace checked his watch, “twenty-three minutes.”

“Don’t deflect. You’re doing that thing you do with your eyebrows when something’s really bothering you, and I’m not doing anything for the next twenty-three minutes if you want to talk about it.”

“What I want,” Jace told him, “is for you to stop worrying about other people and get your ass married.”

“Fair enough,” Alec agreed. “But I’m here when you do want to talk about it. I know I’ve been completely wrapped up in wedding stuff for a while, but you’re still my brother and my best friend, and I don’t want you to think you’re any less important to me now than you always have been.”

Jace walked over and put a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “The only complaint I have about you being wrapped up in wedding stuff is how sappy it’s apparently made you.”

Alec chuckled. “Oh god, that was really sappy, wasn’t it? Shit.” He wiped at his eyes. “I think I might actually cry out there. You’re not allowed to make fun of me if I do.”

“Buddy,” Jace said gravely, “as your brother and best man, it is my solemn duty to make fun of you for it for the rest of our lives. But I’ll wait until you’re back from your honeymoon.”

Alec didn’t cry during the ceremony. Jace noticed a few moments when he had distinctly watery eyes, though, and filed those away for future teasing. Then Alec and Magnus were kissing and the ceremony was over and Jace had absolutely nothing left to distract him from his thoughts.

Especially when the subject of those thoughts was waiting for him in the reception hall, looking as hot as Jace had ever seen him in a perfectly tailored black suit. Jace had managed to avoid looking for Simon during the wedding, and seeing him now hit like a punch to the gut. His emotions were still too raw to deal with what had happened the night before, and there was only one way he was going to make it through this. Luckily, it was the thing he was supposed to be doing. Namely, pretending his ass off.

So he greeted Simon with a warm smile and a kiss to the cheek before settling into his seat. They were at a table with the rest of the wedding party, along with Clary, and it was all so familiar that Jace had no trouble falling back into his role, teasing the hell out of Alec and congratulating the happy couple. Simon made it easy, not acting any different than he had before their conversation, never hesitating to offer small touches and gestures of physical affection, even moving his chair closer so they could lean into each other once they were done eating. It would have made Jace a little sick if he let himself think about it, which he pointedly did not.

Jace let himself get lost in it. It was stupid, and probably a little selfish, but if this was the last time he would ever get to be with Simon like this, he was going to enjoy it.

“Dance with me.” He didn’t mean to say it, but apparently he’d had enough champagne that he wasn’t quite thinking before speaking anymore. He knew as soon as he said it that he’d overstepped. After all, look what had happened the last time they’d danced together.

“Oh.” Simon looked genuinely shocked by the suggestion. “I, uh...”

“I mean,” Jace backpedaled, “if you want to.”

“I believe I might fancy a dance, myself,” Ragnor said. He extended his hand to Madzie, the flower girl and Catarina’s daughter. “Might I have this dance, young lady?”

“Can we do the twirls?” Madzie asked, jumping up from her chair and spinning around to demonstrate.

“Obviously,” Ragnor told her seriously. “After all, what’s the point of dancing without twirls?”

Madzie didn’t bother to give a verbal answer, just grabbed Ragnor’s hand and skipped off toward the dance floor.

“With any luck, that will help her work off some of the sugar buzz from all that cake.” Catarina gave Magnus a long look. “I can’t believe you gave her a second slice.”

“My dearest Catarina, it’s my wedding day, and I will spoil my goddaughter if I want to.”

Catarina scoffed. “You say that like you don’t spoil her every day.”

“It’s true,” Alec agreed. “We might need to give her a third slice if we want to spoil her extra today.” He managed to keep a straight face right up until Cat’s napkin hit him in the face.

“I think I might need to dance off my own sugar buzz,” Izzy announced, grabbing Clary’s hand. “Come on, hot stuff. Let’s go shake our booties.”

Clary laughed. “I can’t exactly say no when you’re offering to shake your booty for me.”

“You know what?” Simon said suddenly. The look he gave Jace was challenging. “I do want to dance.”

It was Jace’s turn to be shocked, but he recovered quickly. “Okay.” He met Simon’s challenge with a smirk. “Let’s dance.”

Jace’s bravado was shaken slightly when the music transitioned to a slow love song right as they made it to the dance floor. But Simon didn’t hesitate, stepping onto the dance floor and drawing him close.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke, rocking gently to the music. They danced close enough that Jace could hear Simon’s breaths, feel them against his cheek. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Jace had to say something or he was going to go crazy.

“Thanks, by the way. For, you know, all of this. I don’t think I ever said that.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” Simon’s voice was low and intimate. “This was as much for me as it was for you.”

Jace wanted to say that it couldn’t possibly be, that if any of this meant half what it did to him for Simon, then he wouldn’t be able to give it up so easily. But that would have been deeply unfair, no matter how true, so instead he just said, “Well, thank you, anyway.”

Simon pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, and Jace didn’t understand why he looked so sad. “Thank you.”

And then they were kissing, slow and gentle, and Jace didn’t even remember moving, but he must have or how else could they have gotten here? All the longing and heartbreak he’d been pushing down all day rose up, threatening to break him open and spill out all over the dance floor. The only things holding him together were Simon’s arms around him, Simon’s body pressed against his as they swayed to near-forgotten music, Simon’s mouth on his.

When the song ended and Simon pulled away from him, Jace stumbled and had to force himself upright.

“Come back to the hotel with me,” he said urgently. He couldn’t just let Simon go, he realized, not without at least trying. They could go back to their room, and they could talk, and Jace would somehow find the words to convince Simon to stay. “Please.”

Simon closed his eyes and visibly steeled himself. When he opened them again, Jace knew he’d lost before he even had the chance to put up a fight.

“I already made plans to hang out with Becky and Maia tonight. You know, sibling and sibling’s-maybe-girlfriend bonding. Maia’s going to give me a ride back to Boston in the morning.” He took Jace’s hand and lifted it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on his knuckles, then pressed something small and metal into his palm before letting go.

Jace couldn’t do anything but watch him walk away, the weight of his father’s ring heavier than it had any right to be in his hand.

~~~

The apartment was quiet when Jace got home, and he was both relieved that he wouldn’t have to face Simon yet and disappointed because, as much as he hated that he would have to box his feelings away, he missed Simon, even though it had only been two days since they’d last seen each other.

He found the note pinned to the refrigerator, held in place by the Spider-Man magnet that he’d gotten Simon as a “congrats on surviving a horrible lab partner and not failing chemistry” gift last year.

Staying at Bat’s for a while. -S

That was all. Nothing about why Simon had left or when he was coming back. If he was coming back. Jace’s fingers almost itched with the need to text Simon to find out exactly what the hell was going on, but the fact that Simon had left a note instead of texting suggested he didn’t mean for this to be a discussion.

Not that Jace actually needed a discussion. Simon had made it very clear that things were over between the two of them, that he didn’t feel the same way about Jace that Jace did about him, and instead of accepting it and moving on like a good friend would have, he’d kissed Simon at the wedding. He’d been on the verge of begging Simon to give him a chance. Of course Simon didn’t want to see him right now. He wouldn’t want to see him, either.

For half a second, Jace considered taking Alec up on his offer to call if he needed to talk, but Alec was on his honeymoon, and Jace might on occasion be a self-centered asshole, but he didn’t want to be that much of a self-centered asshole. Instead, he grabbed his half-empty package of Double Stuf Oreos and took them to the couch, where he turned on Return of the Jedi and bundled himself up in the fleece blanket Simon always used when his feet got too cold in winter.

When the movie was over and the Oreos were long gone, he dragged the blanket into Simon’s room and curled up on his bed, on top of the covers. Sleeping on top of Simon’s bed wasn’t as pathetic as sleeping in Simon’s bed, he reasoned. Especially if no one was there to see it. And if the fleece blanket kept any tears from getting on Simon’s comforter, then he wasn’t really crying.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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wild-aloof-rebel · 5 years ago

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Do you have any David and Patrick wedding reception/after party/wedding night headcanons?

absolutely! here are nine…

even though the rest of the catering is delicious, david still misses the pizza that should have been, insisting that his carefully crafted menu is incomplete without it. halfway through the night, a dozen of elm county’s finest pizzas mysteriously appear, and though it isn’t fresh-baked the way it would have been had everything gone to plan, it’s salty and cheesy and hot and precisely what everyone needs to keep the night going. no one takes credit for ordering it, but patrick suspects that roland and jocelyn’s sudden absence during the cake cutting may have been for more wholesome reasons than he and david had assumed.

ii.

the cake is a traditional white almond sponge, but there’s a cherry filling and a thin layer of matcha buttercream in the middle that perfectly balance out the sweetness with bright and earthy notes. david had made patrick promise that he wouldn’t smash cake in his face, and he holds true to that vow, feeding him a careful bite from his own fork and relishing the way his eyes close and the corners of his lips quirk up, the same as they had the day they’d first sampled it at the bakery in elm glen, tipsy on free champagne and each other. but as soon as all the eyes in the room turn away from them and back to their own plates, patrick dips his finger into the icing and dabs a single dot of it to the corner of david’s affronted mouth just to have the excuse to lick it off of him.

iii.

there are too many toasts for david’s taste, which is to say any at all, the spotlight of stories and well-wishes making him wriggle in his seat, patrick’s hand squeezing gently at his thigh every time his leg begins to bounce. johnny, despite david’s worries, gets through his brief words without a single tear, just a huge, proud smile that doesn’t seem to leave his face all night. clint, on the other hand, tears up as soon as he starts, leaving marcy to swap his champagne flute with a tissue from her handbag. stevie, traitor that she is, opts to give her speech responsibilities over to alexis, and david braces himself for whatever horror story from their past she’s about to unleash. but instead of the past, she talks about the here and now, about the ease of david’s laughter and the quickness of his smiles, about the way patrick looks at him when he isn’t watching, about getting back a brother she hadn’t realized she’d lost and gaining another she hadn’t known she’d wanted, about how the walls we build around ourselves aren’t what protect us but love and friendship and family and trust are, about all the ways that letting others in only makes us more ourselves in the end. her charm and endless warmth invite everyone in to the story, make them a part of it, and there isn’t a dry eye in the room by the time she finally raises a glass, not only to david and patrick but also to this little town that brought them together–all of them–and gave them happiness they hadn’t known was possible.

iv.

patrick tears up watching david dance with marcy, his husband taking advantage of his height to spin her under his arm, her buoyant, carefree laughter floating out over the sounds of “brown eyed girl.” impossibly, he sometimes thinks she might love david even more than he does, and while he’s so glad that everything has worked out the way it should, there’s still a part of him that knows he could have missed this, that he could have let her miss this, not just the joy of dancing with david, which on its own is a beautiful thing, but the certainty of knowing that patrick is living this happy, comfortable life of his own choosing. they’ve talked a lot since his birthday, and he knows that all she and his dad have ever wanted is for him to be happy. there’s guilt and sorrow that twist in his gut like knives when he thinks about how close he came to denying them that, to denying himself that, and he still isn’t sure some days how he managed to walk away from that life and straight into this one he hadn’t even known he’d wanted instead. he honestly suspects some kind of divine intervention; it’s the only way to explain the miracle that is his husband, holding out a hand to him from the far side of the room, inviting him in once again to this world of joy and laughter and light that he gets the privilege of sharing with him every single day.

moira wears 4 different outfits throughout the night, and david can only roll his eyes fondly at each costume change. in addition to the white alexander mcqueen dress she wears for the ceremony, she slips into a black stella mccartney gown before the start of the reception, the fabric split at the shoulders to reveal sleeves made of the same delicate crystal-adorned mesh that’s stretched across her shoulders. at the end of the night when it’s time to retire to the motel, she says her final goodbyes in a gareth pugh striped pantsuit that reminds david so much of her pajamas he briefly wonders if she might actually sleep in it. but his favorite by far is the ethereally structured iris van herpen she dons after dinner and toasts and cake, the dress flowing around her in elegant waves as his father spins her across the dance floor, art come to life, all the sharp, swift lines of her blurring into something–someone–softer and subtler and more at ease than he ever thought she could be in this place.

vi.

after a dance with stevie, patrick spies his husband tucked into the far corner of the room, his nose buried in his phone. david startles when patrick’s hands slip around his waist from behind, but the surprise of it passes quickly and he relaxes back in patrick’s grasp, comfortable and safe and at home in his arms. he drops his phone to his side though when patrick presses up on his toes to hook his chin over his shoulder, but not before he can catch a glimpse of a picture of the canopy of tulle and flowers that hangs over the center of the room. you can admit it you know, patrick tells him. admit what? david asks, though he clearly knows he’s been caught out. patrick presses a quick, soft kiss to the curve of his neck, tightening his arms around his husband as he breathes him in. they did a good job. this place is beautiful. david scoffs, but there’s no truth in it at all and patrick buries a chuckle in his shoulder. you’re beautiful, david replies instead, raising his phone again but flipping to the front-facing camera this time. he catches patrick’s left hand in his own, squeezing them to his chest so that both their rings are visible on the screen. he snaps several, both of them grinning dopily at the camera or at each other, as if they can’t stop themselves from looking deliriously happy if they try. after a careful debate over which one is best–patrick argues for the picture where the crinkled laugh lines around david’s eyes are deepest, though david vetoes that one in favor of another where patrick’s smile is wide and bright as david presses a kiss to his cheek–david posts the picture to the store’s instagram account since he no longer uses his own, captioning it we’re officially a family-owned business now. family. david is his family. the thought bursts into happy sparks, a cascade of fireworks hot and bright inside of patrick, and he can’t help but kiss david then, turning him in his arms to press all this glittering joy against his lips.

vii.

much later, patrick opens instagram on his own phone to clear away the overwhelming number of notification that have popped up on the post. hundreds of likes and dozens of congratulatory comments have rolled in, but the very first of each is from rachel.

viii.

thought i might find you out here, patrick says as he finds his husband standing in the inky darkness out behind the building. he looks overwhelmed–by the noise and the people and the emotions of the day–but in that way like he still can’t quite believe this is all real. let’s go for a drive, patrick offers. david’s brow wrinkles but he climbs into the passenger seat without a word, and patrick knows that however many mountains he’d climb for this man, he’d never have to do it alone. he can feel the moment that david realizes where they’re going, his fingers digging excitedly into the meat of patrick’s thigh. it’s well after midnight, so he doesn’t pull into the driveway, stopping instead on the shoulder across the road. he drags a blanket from the trunk and throws it across the hood of his car, offering david a hand to help him clamber up on top of it. they sit together there under the stars, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at their future, sketching the shape of it in whispers and hushed giggles and kisses soft and warm. only when they’re both shivering in the damp night air do they finally climb down and crawl back into the car, taking one long last look at the place they’ll soon call home. i wish it was already ours, david confesses into the safety of the dark, and patrick threads their fingers together, squeezing until he can feel both of their rings digging into his skin. me too, he says, but you’re still the only home i need.

ix.

they slip in quietly through the back door, though stevie grins wolfishly at them from across the room to let them know their absence hadn’t gone unnoticed. but there’s more dancing then. and drinks. photos. conversations. all these beautiful memories in the making. and later still, when things finally wind down and their parents and most of their other guests have said good night, david’s stomach rumbles loudly enough to be heard over the hushed strains of whitney houston still playing in the background. patrick, half-drunk, buries his fond, ridiculous laughter in his husband’s neck, and twyla suggests they head to the cafe. together with alexis and stevie, they wander right down the middle of the street, arms linked between them, david shaking his head as the other four make a sloppy, over-loud attempt at belting out “willkommen.” at the cafe, they all pile in to a booth together, talking loudly enough that twyla can still join in, calling back to them through the pass-through as she cooks up a mountain of scrambled eggs with cheese and warm, buttery toast, which she brings out all on one big plate. as they dive in, david thinks back to all the best meals he had when he lived in new york–expensive dinners at michelin-starred restaurants, quick lunches at greasy spoons, long boozy brunches and cheap late-night dives–and none of them could possibly compare to 3 AM scrambled eggs at the only restaurant in town, with his husband pressed so close he’s practically in david’s lap, surrounded by these people he loves more than he ever thought he could, all of them cackling wildly as they try to steal bites off each other’s forks. it’s the kind of moment–the kind of life–he would have never even thought to dream of, but it’s his and it’s real and he’s going to do everything he can to hold on to it for as long as he’s able.

#imargaery #replies #long post #rebel writes #this turned out way longer than i mean it to but oh well

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alias-b · 4 years ago

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sins of my youth. 015

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: I was excited to post this one! Billy continues to learn secrets about Evie as they grow closer. The first day back to school arrives with new challenges. TW: talk of teacher/student relationship, vomiting, pica, bullying, and some Well Earned Smut. *Thanks all and chat with me about the fic if you have time!

Chapter 15: Fires Within Fires

Billy decided he liked unwrapping these layers to Evie, despite the fucking interruptions.

Their little game of back and forth where even grazing her skin with his fingertips felt like a prize.

Where a glimpse of her smile's ghost sent luna moths fluttering inside the glass jar that he'd long-sealed his beating heart away into.

He certainly couldn't tell her she'd consumed him. Syllables became harder around Evie. No amount of cooing at his mirror would save him from those painted eyes. Brushstrokes that destroyed him utterly.

And all he could think was brush me again.

The greatest mystery presented itself that Saturday night.

Mona stayed out with friends and went home with something a little more chiseled. Which meant she’d be out and go straight to the salon to play with the books. Blue was fed. The stars were bright and silent. Placed just so.

Evie applied a red lip, bent over the vanity before it reached eleven on the dot. With her mother out, she used the front door after grasping her coat. Green bomber covered in patches. Crept over the frozen grass and pavement toward a hippy sort of van. Tan with a maroon stripe.

Billy crawled out his window at the sight of her along the way. Dressed. Head down as he hid near his car.

He had to know.

The van was already driving off so Billy waited a bit to follow behind it. Hoped the few cars on the road would mask him if he stayed far enough away.

He trailed after the damn thing all the way to the city. Saw it still in an alleyway and swerved to find parking elsewhere. Waited a few minutes with his eyes on the rearview mirror to see lights flicker.

Beyond the cold buildings, a cozy nightclub illuminated. Covered in trellises with twisted metalwork roses and thorny vines. Slicked in frost. A red, ornate canopy and steel black gate lining the outside area with empty tables.

Music vibrated within. Billy lit up a cigarette and watched the door. Eyed a bouncer chatting it up with a group outside in the cold. Smoking and shooting the shit. He readied to make his move.

The sign read Sugar Kane’s in swirling lights.

Boots carefully stepped around the alley. Eyes trained on the bouncer at the end of the street corner. A thrum of piano keys echoed. Billy slipped into the door, down an immediate tunnel of high steps into another world made of pure red velvet.

Wall to wall velour curtains and uniform lines of crystalline lights. Felt like Billy stepped into a dim, smoky dream. Busy round tables with idle chatter and even a bit of friendly gambling. A dance floor with plenty of couples. Sleek black bar and mirrors behind it.

Taste and class and care went into this dream.

Billy fell into a table in the back, darkest corner. Watched the slow dancing. Heels clicked. More people drank and smoked at tables. Playing cards and speaking in hushed tones under the music.

The music.

As couples swayed and parted, Billy’s eyes lifted to the band. Bass, drums, and keyboard. And the singer looking like a chandelier painted red like the walls. Red like the blood boiling and pounding under his flesh.

Slow and steady, a pure blue light bathed. Made her the center of the universe. Let her slip into a warm bubble bath birthed of the cosmos itself. Billy had to scan her again. Had to blink to make sure he was seeing this correctly.

Sleek dress of beads like what a flapper would wear. Glossy red lips sultry into the mic. Huge lashes. Bigger curls.

Evie.

Her hips moved against the swell of sound. Breathing in and out with it. Stage lights framed her body. Kissed it. Made her glimmer as an ethereal creature. Not of this world.

Billy’s jaw was on the table.

“This is a man's world,” she cooed, head shaking while brown eyes fluttered closed, “this is a man's world…”

Billy’s fingers twisted into the tablecloth. Eyes trained as her voice picked up against the reverberations. Filled the air. Filled the empty spaces around Billy. He’d heard her sing, but this starlet wasn’t the delicate songbird she came off as. She owned the air. The space. The stars. The world at her feet.

She owned everything. She wasn't sorry.

“But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl.” Evie plucked up the mic to come forward. Smiling when hands dropped dollars into a bowl she shared with the band. Her voice grew. Boomed. Curled around throats and hearts.

Enthralled.

That stage was where she belonged and she wasn’t sorry about that either.

Bathed in the echoing ruby glow from seas of crimson velvet and black silk around the room. Spotlight pulsing technicolor. Painting in blues and pinks and reds. Utterly decadent. Small chandeliers hung down to sparkle against cherry hardwood that met the vibration of a musical crescendo.

Evie’s dress flicked about as she moved. Tiny knit shadowy fishnets and strappy heels. Miniature white flowers woven into her free spun curls that truly made her look like an angel. A glowy star. The light caught a collared necklace she’d made with a cameo brooch and loose jewels.

Again and again, Billy let himself be consumed. Bowed to her voice ever-growing. These untouchable notes that wrung around his soul.

“But it wouldn't be nothing!” Evie’s head tipped back. “Nothing!” Mic high with the greatest note that stilled the entire room as the music hushed so she could shine. Obscene and shameless and so bright. Eyes lifted from tables to see her there beckoning like the sirens of old. Evie came down to look out, settled the mic on its stand. Romanced it. “...without a woman or a girl…”

Billy sat there and watched the set. Eyes all over Evie without her knowing. Blissfully unaware of the boy in shadows. He smoked a slow cigarette and no one from the bar bothered him. Not yet.

Evie was five songs in before they switched it up. Let the band take on some peppier instrumental so Evie left to cross to the bar. Billy thought to flee before a huge hand touched his shoulder.

“You look a little young to be in here. Not drinking. Where’s your ID, kid?”

“Hey, I’m eighteen.” Billy sounded childish, snuffing a cigarette out on a clean ashtray. The bouncer glared down at him. Bodybuilder type and pretty. Tanned with styled slick hair and little strands tumbling into his brow. Blue eyes. One ear framed in silver piercings. “Just listening to the girl, she...she knows me.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, stalker. She's working.” The bouncer cooly plucked Billy up like he was a doll. Catching the attention of the bar as they stumbled toward it.

Evie reeled out of her conversation before Billy Hargrove was presented to her. One shoulder high into the air as a muscled hand held his arm.

“Does this belong to you, Eve?” He began, giving Billy a jostle for good measure.

“Oh, god.”

Billy flashed his brightest smile. Begged to be claimed like a little, lost puppy. Poor Evie could only groan. Elbows on the sleek wood to hide her face. The woman she’d been speaking with behind the bar was already cackling. “Yes...he’s mine.”

“Is this the boy you won’t shut up about?” Came a quip. Gravelly, feminine voice.

“Told you, I know her. Lemme go, Lurch.” Billy ripped himself clean from the bouncer. Fixed his jacket.

“Marlon, baby, we got him from here.” The barkeep continued, bringing one acrylic nail to her plump lips. Dolled to the gods in a Marilyn Monroe type wig of platinum, buttercream waves that swooped to frame her face and touched her glowing shoulders. Sapphire cocktail dress cinched in and flowed to knee length. Matching heels that made her a head taller than Billy.

“Whatever you say, honeybunch.” Marlon gruffed and went back to go up the steps. Evie shoved at Billy and grabbed his jacket.

“What are you doing here?” Her classic hiss.

“I wanted to know where you snuck off to two nights a week. Just a concerned neighbor.”

“Sometimes three when we have the stage open.” A hand adorned in a huge diamond ring extended. “Looks like James Dean and Jim Morrison had a blond baby boy. Little Eros crawled out of a Def Leppard video.”

“Billy.” He shrugged out of Evie’s grip. Left her making that signature scrunchy face of anger she was known for. Arms crossed at him. Pride rose so he boasted. Took the bejeweled hand in both of his to kiss the knuckles smelling of jasmine. “Evie’s favorite subject.”

“Are not.” The retort clipped.

“Don’t tell lies, Evie dearest, they cause wrinkles.” A wink of huge false lashes followed. “Iris Lee Arden. I manage the place for the owners. Evie’s never brought us a pretty stray before.” She gave Billy’s chin an affectionate brush. Nails painted to silver claws.

Iris moved like a feline. A trans woman with brown skin and a full figure. Thirties. Commanding presence. Love of Marilyn Monroe with roots in the art of drag. Billy spotted a sign behind her about the specials. Chalked in different colors. A variety of musical stylings. Another sign about the shows nightly. Thursday being drag night.

One of those open places he figured. Accepting of all colors and sexualities. Safe haven to outcasts. California had them too. Seemed more of a rarity in this area. Double the bouncers of the places back home.

“Evie’s telling people about me, huh?” Billy leaned into the bar to play the flirt. Evie’s hand covered his mouth.

“Ignore him. He should not be here. I’m sorry.”

“Says you who lied about your age for the job, sugar.” Iris teased, eyes flicking to Billy. “We found out like the day after. Obviously.”

“I was in it for the free booze.” Evie beamed a smile, hand snatching from Billy when he licked her finger. “Gross.” The pink tongue caught between his teeth before he grinned.

“Uh. Nice try. I don’t even drink the alcohol for free, girl. And the only thing we ever give you free is a Shirley Temple.” Iris laughed again. “I’ll get two going while you lovebirds work things out.”

“We’re not, ugh…” Evie rolled her eyes and decided to sit. Huffed for effect. “So, you got me.”

“I always do." His dangling earring caught the light. "Not a bad place. You ever sing on Thursday?”

“No, but I did host a couple of shows for Iris. The girls love me and I love them. They taught me plenty. Helped me. And I...learned a lot about myself too.” Evie kicked a stool out so he’d join her. Paused to see his expression. Her lips quivered. "Would it bother you if I think about girls and boys the same?"

"Did it bother you when I flirted with that Jesse guy right in front of you? More in common, Angel. It's adding up." Billy held her eyes steady when he said that. They shared this softer beat. Simple and clean. Plenty of room to breathe. He shifted, lashes batting. "So, this place. Start from the top."

“I was sixteen and I saw flyers so...I sorta lied about my age. No one knows. Not Heather, not even Fredrick. They found out I lied quickly. But, they liked me so we worked out some rules and I just sing a few nights with the band. Couple songs. Great guys, too. The Starlighters. They’re here almost 24/7. Marvin on bass, he drives so they pick me up on the way most days. I have to hide in back, I don’t want to get them in trouble. Cops will treat them differently cause they're not white. Always been that way.”

Billy noticed most of the people in here, including the workers and band, were people of color easily. Many mixed like Evie.

Opposite of Hawkins. She and Tommy H were practically the only mixed kids in their classes since his birth mother was Hispanic. Strange thing neither of them addressed in the open.

“The club runs all sorts of music. Jazz, rock, classics, and some pop. I like the more rock and pop nights cause I can bring my guitar. Sometimes I help back up visiting bands. This place just appreciates it all. I love it here and I can sing anything they need, it's like a second home. Accepting. Good for people who get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.” She shrugged and two bubbly glasses were set down. “Thank you, Iris.”

“Owners have more musicians coming in toward spring so hours for you will be slim. Summer should be better, they might have some more day and evening gigs.” Iris perked a smile.

“I get it. Easier to work during the day when I turn eighteen.” Evie sipped. "The best birthday present of all is more of that stage."

“It's happy to have you, sugar. So, tell me, Billy, have you locked this girl down?” Iris plucked up a clipboard to make some inventory notes, elbow on the bar.

“Hey!”

“I’m working hard on it,” Billy winked and that was enough to silence Evie.

“She also told me you’re the one who took care of the shithead who gave her that,” Iris tilted Evie’s face. "Boy is lucky I couldn't sink my talons into his eye sockets. Sick my guys and dolls on him." Billy barely caught the bruises under layers of color corrector and makeup. “Good boy.”

“I do what I can.” He shrugged and played with the straw of his drink. Evie could have blamed her blush on stage lights. Instead, she stole a sip when Iris offered a fresh glass of water.

“I’m gonna go sing.” She pushed Billy’s arm. “He’s a compulsive liar. Don't listen to him.”

“Don’t worry, Eve, I’ll babysit the pretty boy. Make him feel right at home. It's what I do.” Another wink and Evie groaned all the way to the stage. Rejoined the band with a red smile. Sparkling. Garnered a few claps and nodded to pick up the next song. Beaming.

She found Billy's eyes for one fleeting moment.

"The French are glad to die for love..."

“She’s gonna go far, that one." Iris caught his attention. "Just needs a chance is all. Someone bigger than me to give it.”

Billy’s eyes were glued to the ruby supernova whirling and bursting before his gaze. Felt the vibrations inside his ribs. Again and again.

“You take the stage too?”

“Oh, yes. Never too late. Prefer to manage these days. Guide others starting out. Lots of queens and questioning tweens in the city in need of a place. I like to give them one. Outcasts who need to learn they're not alone in this big world. I've had plenty of success and now I have dreams of managing one great star.”

“My dad would hate all this.” Billy piped up aimlessly, head shaking.

“More of us than of him, if you believe it. Just have to speak up. Scream it out.” Iris cleaned a couple of empty glasses. “You’re pretty. You could do drag, you know?”

“Thanks.” Billy broke to chuckle, eyes turned back at last.

“Don’t hurt my girl either.” One long nail pointed. A talon that tapped Billy’s chin. “We’ll take you out back and smack you around a bit.”

“Maybe I’m into that, lady.” Billy flirted back. His insufferable self. The pretense lowered. “Already hurt Evie. Trying not to do it again.”

“You’re young. So is she. You both will fuck up, that's life. Sometimes people hurt more when they're comfortable. Just make it right.” Iris had offered, arms back in the bar to sigh.

“Sometimes I don’t know how to do that,” Billy blinked his gorgeous eyes, “make it right, I mean.”

“Watch. Listen. Learn.” She cooed softer. “It’ll do you good. Be a gentleman too, offer my girl a ride home when her set is over. Short night. I assume you’re staying?”

“Yeah…” Breathless, he marveled. “Yeah, I’m staying if she is.”

Evie had a few more songs before the mic was turned over. Something sinking every single time she had to see it go. They split tips and she parted ways for the night. Offered the shortest hours of all the workers being so young. Schooling first, Iris always said.

Bundled in a jacket, Evie pushed through some beads and curtains to see Billy waiting. Head cocking toward the exit.

“You stayed.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Drove all the way here.” He lit up a smoke outside, having not had many during the set. Music lingered behind them. Echoed along the cool winds and wet pavement. “Free show and all the Shirley Temples I could suck up. I did tip, by the way. All the pretty people I could flirt with and brag about my girl to. What a night.”

He slung a lazy arm around Evie’s shoulders. Not looking at her. His girl. Smoke flitting out his lips and Evie lost all her thoughts. Lost the nerve to tell him he was so beautiful. That she could be his. He shifted closer to her and peered at his watch, trapping Evie into his chest.

“Damn, it's just after two.”

“Couple times I stayed till four.” She lamented. “Guess I should be happy they have room at all even if it’s once a week these days. Iris is good to me, I’m loyal… What did you guys talk about?”

“How pretty the stars are at night.” He mused, snuffing his cigarette out onto a brick wall before he paced to the car waiting. Evie slid in wordlessly, sighed when Billy got the heat on before she buckled.

She also noticed he did it too for the first time since riding with him.

“Usually I’m wired after shows but I’m dead tired tonight,” she rubbed her head to moan, leaning back.

“You had a long week.” Was all Billy said, swerving down the street to the freeway.

This heavy silence hung in the air. Billy intent on the road. Idle glances that never matched up. Finally, he peered over and saw Evie’s head lulled aside. Fast asleep.

A smirk crept.

He turned some easy music on. Let her rest all the way to Hawkins and parked at his house. Turned slowly and brought his knuckles up against the apple of Evie’s cheek. He felt her shift into his touch and reeled back. Evie seized up, groaned to see him.

“We’re back.” He whispered. Not sure why.

“Hm, sorry. Dozed off there.” Evie felt for the handle. Also felt Billy’s eyes on her skull. She froze and blinked to see him. “You want to come inside?”

“Easier than sneaking into my place. Dad’s a heavy sleeper, but he has Billy Fuck-Up Radar.” He laughed and she didn’t, pushing out. Evie staggered in her heels, holding herself so Billy crossed around in silence. They went up into her house.

“Gonna...bathroom. Wash my face off ��n change.” She had this sleepy adorable way about that, petting Blue idly. Already tugging little clips from her curls.

Billy came to give the cat some attention. Heard the sink running and crossed back to Evie’s room. Tucked his boots and coat aside. Sprang at attention when she came in wearing a long tee and cradling a bundle of clothing. Curls free and messy. The slightest smear of black makeup still under her eyes but the rest of the paint came off leaving her fresh-faced and glowy.

“Need to use it?” She gestured behind her and stepped aside, depositing her laundry properly. Blue eyes lingered before he went off. Wordless.

Evie let out the breath she’d been holding to sit on the bed. Back taut when Billy returned so she stood awkwardly. A quick movement that made him stop. Created a standoff. Eyes held steady. Expectant. She bit her lip and clicked the light out.

Somehow that made him feel safer to cross. Careful steps like he was approaching a skittish nymph. Stood inches away. Evie let herself cave in.

“Can I undress you?”

The words blurted.

Billy didn't hesitate.

“All yours.” He watched her too pointedly so Evie looked aside. Reached to lift his shirt until he adjusted to get out of it. She got a look finally at the nasty red and purple welts on his shoulder. Healing yellow tinge. Clouds shifting.

Visible from the moon and streetlamps outside flitting through the blinds. A hand hovered but didn’t touch and he just went rigid there. Let her look at him. Let her see every inch. The color splashed over his shoulder like spilled paint.

“Can I kiss you there?”

“Only once.” He said so she swept over. Placed her lips on the flesh that was burning hot. Pecked too light and came out to see Billy’s eyes close. They opened and she reached for his belt. Clicked to get it off before unbuttoning his pants. Billy hitched to shudder when she brushed him, easing his pants down over white briefs.

Slowly, Evie brought a finger to her lips. Tapped once and Billy obeyed. Claimed them without ceremony. Pushed into her body until they tangled back in bed. Adjusting so he could hover.

Aroused into a creamy thigh, Billy rocked easily between parting legs. Nestled there and heard her moan. Drowsy kisses as her hands slipped around his back. One arm braced by her head, fingers smoothed the curls aside.

“Can I look?” He uttered, hand inching under her shirt. Gazes locked. A pulsing beat.

“Yeah.” Evie let her hands fall into the mattress. Billy pushed fabric up over her chubby stomach and naked breasts. Traced her flesh without shame and she felt it all melting away. Piles of insecurities shedding to drop like little weights hanging from her heart. Brown eyes lifted elsewhere. A quiet shiver followed.

Her chest rose and fell. Evie tried to stay alert and locked into him, but the sensation returned that sunk her down.

“Billy," she squeaked to still him, "I-I do want you.”

That broad hand palmed her side.

“If you’re unsure, Angel, it’s a no.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. You’re tired. Doesn’t hurt my pride.” Eyes lingered on her face. Evie still felt so exposed there. Billy’s thumb rubbed a hot circle into her skin. He chuckled before pecking those waiting lips with ease.

“We could...I still want to… Do things.” Evie shuddered, swallowing to find the words. “Warm-up. Start slow. Small.”

“Little things you dream of me doing to you.” He leaned in again to taunt. Hips pushed into hers. “Wet your panties already.”

“Please, you leaked all...over me…” Evie lost the exact jab while he kissed up her neck. Tongue and teeth. His hand inched. Ever so slightly. She touched his knuckles, guided him higher to cup her breast. Billy moaned at that alone. Twitched like he might burst and wasted no time getting his tongue on her nipples.

“Taste better than I dreamt, that’s for damn sure.” He ran his nose over her sternum. Tormented her other breast. Let his teeth tug once. Twice.

Suckles until she bucked into him. Head tossed back to moan. Fingers curled into spun gold. Coaxed him onward. Billy kissed her all over. Tummy and back up again. Shifting, he moved over to straddle one leg, nudged her thighs to stay parted.

“Wanna spread you open,” lips ghosted, “touch you.” Brush you again and again.

Evie had his arm in her grip. Felt like two irons clinging. Slowly, she nodded, eyes huge and darting over his there in the dim light.

“I want to feel good again, Billy.” She gulped dry air. “Want you to make me feel good.”

He took in her expression. Pleading and vulnerable. Unafraid to want him in the open. Fingers rolled over her hard nipple and then slipped down under flimsy fabric he wished he could tear. Contained himself just barely at the feel of her. Soaked for him. Responsive to every little beat and sigh. Pride set fire to his marrow. Two fingers pushed up into the bud, coated in arousal to stroke it.

"Like that?" He teased slow. Her mouth opened for his tongue in response.

Evie grasped desperately at the pillow under her head. Legs opened so he got off to curl next to her. Braced his head up with one propped elbow and offered lazy rubs. Drew it out until her thighs hitched to part wide.

“Hear that fucking sound you make?” Billy’s lips touched her ear. “Fuck.” He whimpered like she was the hottest thing on two legs. Made her feel coveted and sexy. Desirable. Slick sounds mingled with their breathing hurried. “I could listen to it all day and get off on that alone, you know. Musical girl. I could play you all night.”

He kept kissing her, rendering Evie unable to articulate. Wanting him in little breathy sounds.

Fucking wanting him.

Evie twisted, hitching a gasp as her toes curled. Thighs parting wider because Billy was some sort of fucking wizard at this. This boy couldn't be real. Eliciting perfect notes out of her. One hand gripped the pillow under her head while the other clung to his bicep now. She felt the muscles bulge white-hot and loved it. Heard Billy breathing soft in her ear, lips trailing down her jawline and collar.

“You’re so wet.” Billy brought his fingers up to lick them. Pushed his tongue into her mouth after. “Taste so fucking good.” Evie yelped as he slapped her thigh playfully. The words slurred into her lips. He slipped his hand back into her panties, played rougher, and felt her tense. Evie’s lips opened into his to moan. Her legs bent up and spread for him. Bucking to meet his touch that was ending her. “Shameless, Evie, I like it.”

“You talk too much.” She had gasped, eyes rolling to shut. Breast jutting so he kissed them next.

“I don’t think people talk enough during the act.” Billy curled back into her. Supporting himself on one arm by her head. “Nothing like seeing a pretty girl’s face when I tell her she’s gonna come so hard for me.” She felt his shaft against her side, rubbing idly to make some friction. Leaking and wet. "So very hard."

Billy liked to play dirty, it kept his emotions at a safe distance.

Evie caved in.

“More… Faster, Billy.” She clung for him. Neck exposed. Pulsing. Lips parting obscenely. "More."

A finger pushed inside with another following.

“Oh, fuck.” Evie worked into his touch. Brown eyes finding his intent ones. Billy thumbed her clit in tune. Pumped a few times. Watched her chest rise and fall in shaky breaths. The shirt still bunched over her tits. Lips fell to suckle one rosy nipple then the other.

“Too much, Angel?” Billy slipped out to resume circling the bud. He hummed, slowing to inhale deep before he granted her another taste of his lips.

“Don’t stop, I like it.” Evie whimpered into his mouth. Caught his bottom lip in her teeth playfully.

“Couldn’t tell.” Billy sped up again. “Wanna see you come for me.”

“Billy.” Evie twisted at that. Thrusting herself into him. Breasts bouncing.

Slick, filthy sounds filled the room. The damn streetlamps glimmered around the curtains. Gave her almost no place to hide from him. Something churned in her stomach. Alert.

“I’m close.” She strained at last. "I'm so..."

“I know,” he grazed their lips to murmur, “just chase it. Don’t run, Angel. That’s it. Chase it for me.” He watched her expression flutter and cloud. Loved it. Worked her relentlessly.

Nails dug into his skin. Out of breath and bucking until her body gave a little quake. A moan followed. Drawing out with her climax. Billy rubbed her until she fell to pieces. Crying out and shuddering. All for him. Back curved to echo sweet delights. He didn’t stop until she fell limp and quivering by the force. With Evie spent, he pushed up to reach into his briefs. Slicked his shaft in her arousal. Began to pump.

“Lemme see you.” She slurred, turning over to tug his underwear down. God, he was beautiful. Lines cut down his hips. Trimmed gold curls. She bit her lip again and wasn’t coy for once.

“You mind?” A suggestive eyebrow rose.

"If I can help." She pushed up more with heavily hooded eyes. Drunken. Messy kisses trailed his abs before she licked his tip.

“You just go for it, huh?” Billy added. Allowed her to swallow him down. “Fuck, that mouth you have, Evie.” He bucked into her throat. Tried to apologize when she made a sound that was utterly pornographic. Heavy cologne wafted up her nose. A trail of spit ran from flesh to lips as she came out. Lapping again. Sinking down so he could pump. She gripped his hips and worshipped him. "You don't...You don't have to..."

"I like it when you feel good. You're so beautiful." Evie dipped out. Let Billy tilt her head up by the hair. Thumb slicking her swollen mouth. Billy curved to dip his tongue in. Groaned when she kept stroking. "Feels good to give pleasure. We have that in common, Billy."

His spine arched. Muscles taut because her lips were on him again.

"You look like a star, you know that?" Billy had to peer away. Sighing soft. Shuddering. She didn't lie about being skilled at this. Evie placed little kisses up and down. Slowed. He didn't have time to continue the praise.

“Where do you want to cum?” She resumed stroking him. Kissed shapes around his hips sweetly. Billy tried to articulate and gasped as her teeth nipped along his skin.

“You’re asking me? Shit...You won’t like it.” He tried to not blow it all on her face. Felt like that might be rude. Billy shuddered again. “On your tits.”

“Hm.” Evie reclined back, let him scoot in and helped him stroke himself. Being dirty also assisted in keeping her emotions and insecurity at bay. She worked him with her slick hand. Felt him starting to lock.

“Listen, I’m not gonna last much...longer.” He was thrusting into their palms. Leaned over her to grasp the pillows so she could finish him herself.

“It’s okay. Just let go, Billy. It'll feel so good when you do.” Tease.

“Fuck, Evie, fuck.” Billy looked exquisite. Vulnerable. Eyes glittering with pleasure. Whining. Lips opened to groan. She worked him until release gushed. Milky spurts right across her chest. Billy swallowed for some air, looked down at her. Messy and fucked out. Shirt bunched up with his filth all over her skin. Puffed.

“Don’t get mad, but I thought about that the first time I saw you.” He twisted one nipple, heard her hitch to sigh. Evie fell back with a huff.

“Yeah, you made that obvious.” She felt Billy sweep up some release with two fingers and offer it to her lips. Sucked him clean, peering through thick lashes. Evie laced their fingers and let a slow smile pull. “I enjoy you, Billy.”

“Yeah?” He fell next to her. Nestled in so their curls mixed. “Only took you a couple of months and an orgasm to admit it.”

“Shut it… I want you. Not trying to countdown to it like it’s some rocketship.” She pushed over him and felt under the bed for a dirty shirt to wipe off with. “That’s all I’m saying. Foreplay is one thing. Sex always changes people. Maybe I'm...freaked about that.”

“I enjoy you, too.” He admitted to the dark. Eyes lifting to the ceiling before she tucked herself back in between him and the wall. “We could get a motel room sometime. Make sure no one walks in for once. We'll be wide awake and go a few rounds. And I won't change on you.”

“Hmm.” She turned to muffle into his chest. Drowsy as can be. “Sure.”

“Really?” Didn’t expect a quick reply. “Not gonna take it back when the glow wears off?”

“Maybe.” Evie teased, grinning into Billy’s skin. “You make me mad sometimes. Still want to go slow like this.” He chuckled with little air, chest steady until he adjusted so she could cuddle into him. Evie traced a heart into his flesh. Caught herself. “Can I have a ride Monday? I think Steve will understand… I’m just freaked out about going in.”

A hand pushed her hair aside so they could look at each other. Billy played with lush curls. Got serious.

“He's not gonna be there.”

“I know.” Evie hummed with her eyes closing. Fingers in her hair lulled her further. “Sometimes I think I see him standing in dark corners. Even when I’m on stage. There’s this glimmer of him everywhere. Especially as I close my eyes.”

Billy didn’t know what to say so he kissed her until she was breathless and distracted. They shifted around so Evie faced the wall, pulling his arm over. Thrilled him to pieces. Billy framed her body with his, lips melting into dark curls. Sweet blessings placed upon her crown. A protective barrier he hoped soothed her.

He really hoped.

The blankets pulled up so they twisted together. No more syllables followed until the morning birds began to sing.

** ** **

Monday crept to swallow Evangeline whole.

She donned a vintage plaid dress that was cinched with a belt and short. Threw her bomber over it and fashionable black tights. Knew she was dressing for Fredrick even still. Her little outfits pieced together so he could imagine taking them apart in class. Earrings caught the light as she swung her bag on and crept outside into the morning windchill. Didn’t want to keep Billy and Max waiting.

Just in time, they stalked out of the Hargrove house. This knowing smile crossed Max’s face when she saw Evie.

“So, you’re hanging out with Billy again.” Came the monotone observation.

“Back seat.” He snapped at her. Evie’s lip twitched before a little nod followed and the redhead disappeared into the back. Snapping the seat in place for Evie to take. Without ceremony, the Camaro lurched forward to go. Billy fiddling with his radio and cursing all the hick stations until he found one at Evie's quiet recommendation.

“Is Evie your girlfriend now?” Max was leaning between them.

“I’ll pull over, I swear to god, Max.” He lifted his eyes with an aggravated breath, turning hard after the stoplight changed. Max snickered and Evie wanted to laugh, but didn’t. Eyes darting at the many trees they passed until they began to blur. A sea of earthy tones and pure white frost pooling. Almost looked like chaotic, muddy ocean waves. Crashing.

Sensing the nerves, Billy’s hand found her knee. Stayed there until they got to school. Thumb smoothing.

“See you two later.” Chipper for once in the morning, Mad Max jumped out after them and raced down the hill to meet Dustin waving across the way. Evie huffed as he looked between Billy and her then asked Max an obvious question out of earshot.

Students moved all around them. Many pausing to glance at Evie Fenny appearing from the magical blue of Billy Hargrove's legendary Camaro. She didn't belong there. One hot orgasm wouldn't change that. Fingers curled into her bag’s strap. Nervously twisting it.

“He’s not gonna be in there and you won’t feel better until you face it.” Billy finished his cigarette against the hood. Eyes pointed.

“We could just skip.” Evie looked around at passing students and Billy came to her side.

“You do know how to tempt me. C’mon.” An arm swept around her shoulders. Nearby students took more frantic notes as they got down the hill so Evie wiggled from him. Kept walking and felt sick by the time they got to her locker.

“People are staring at us.” She faced inside and sorted books. Billy leaned next to her. Eyes flickering with this unreadable expression.

“I didn’t notice.”

Evie gave him this glance like she didn’t believe him.

"I don't care." Came the actual sentiment.

“I have to get to calc.” Evie dismissively shut the metal door and gasped when he kissed her. Right there in front of everyone. Billy cupping her cheeks. Making a point in his way. Cartoon confetti tumbling down. Students watched Evie stumble into the lockers. Billy Hargrove’s arm steady around her back. Pulling her into his body as if he wanted her and only her and nothing else existed.

“Clear enough, Angel?” He pulled out. Left her breathless. Unworried and wishing it was enough to unbind her nerves. A thumb fixed her lipstick idly. “See you in English. Don’t run.” Billy swept off. Students parting to let their king by. Evie shuddered to herself and hunched to hurry in the opposite direction. Cheeks burning.

Brush me again.

She didn’t learn much in her first period. Heather met her at the door and kept glancing the entire class. Carol and Tommy both skipped. That should have brought Evie some ease. Instead, she figured she might blow chunks.

The first bell had her springing up. Not even waiting for Heather as she disappeared into crowds. Shoving a bathroom door open so she could throw up her breakfast. Two eggs arranged with wheat toast. Mona had spent the entire time prattling about some man she was seeing as if Evie were her best friend and therapist and not a soul she gave birth to.

Evie so often wondered if her mother had wanted her. Really wanted her. This life that stilled all her starlight, electric dreams. And not treated birth as a duty because these things can happen.

Luck was not on her side. Evie had passed Carol in there with a couple of other girls in her gaggle's orbit. Smoking and late to class. Too cool for it either way.

Bile and food exploded into the toilet bowl. A twisted clothing pin that was stuck somewhere it shouldn't have been came up too. Evie swallowed that a good while ago. Spots of blood pricked.

“Gross, Fenny, didn’t know you were that type.” Vicki sneered outside at the sound. Snickering followed. “Two fingers are better than one, precious. I hope you give Billy’s dick better treatment.” Footsteps followed and Evie didn’t have time to be mortified. She figured they all left and gasped. Spotted a loose bolt in the wall.

Evie propped her head up and fumbled to unscrew it.

Heard voices that told her to stop. Just stop. She can stop. She can stop this at any time.

There rust.

It went down and Evie felt that sickly wave of calm wash. Rocked back to a distant shore and wiped her mouth on a wad of thin toilet paper. Felt disgusting. Gave her cheek a soft pat like a baby. Breathe. Breathe. Feet staggered out with her backpack to see Carol sitting on the farthest sink like it was a throne. Smoking still and far too elated.

Shame sunk its talons into Evie like Carol watched the entire thing play out.

Unable to even rasp, she went to the sink and washed out her mouth.

“Not preggers are you?” Smoke pooled up.

“Just sick.” Evie bit back, hands braced over the sink.

“About the party,” Carol continued, not listening as she snuffed out her cig against the mirror's corner, “I was so drunk. Don’t take it personally.”

“Fine.”

“I just think it’s a fresh start today. New leaves. Right?” Carol dug around as Evie shuddered and tried to reapply her lipstick. The redhead approached. “Here.”

A stick of bubblegum flicked out. Evie eyed it suspiciously and Carol actually smiled. Glossy lips curling before she chewed her own piece. Blew a plush pink bubble for good measure.

It popped.

“Nothing funny. You need to work on those trust issues. Especially if you’re gonna hang with Billy. He gets around." Her head cocked. "Don't mind Vicki, by the way, Billy sorta dropped her unexpectedly. Hm. She was hoping to take him all the way to prom and only got one taste at Lover's Lake. Poor thing.”

Carefully, Evie took it. Let the sweet flavor fill her rustic mouth. Didn’t mask enough.

“Thanks…”

“Anytime.” Carol went to the door and stopped. Lips smacked. Couldn't hold it in any longer and let the glee flow. Red hair flicked. “So how does it work, you and Bowers, is it a grade thing? Are you just easy? I’m so curious because he seems like a guy who could get anyone. Billy, too. So, why you, Evie?"

The question that kept Evangeline up at night haunted the air. Carol grew relentless.

"Are you a witch of some kind? Could be comparing the young and old. Gross. Maybe you work well on your knees. I’d love some tips.”

Evie stared at the sink. Heard the bell blare signaling she was late. A deafening silence followed.

“I don’t…” She peered at Carol crossing her arms to smile. The gum went sour. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know if I’m grossed out or impressed, Evie,” Carol faked a look of shock, “you really suck off our teacher. I mean, how pathetic do you have to be?” A nasty, faux scoff followed.

"As if you weren't leaning over his desk to press your tits against his back and hiking your skirts up all the same." Evie shot up. Caught Carol off guard by matching her malice. Easily.

Evie found herself shaking. Face hot. Eyes betraying her too well.

“But, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.” She spat the gum in the trash and pushed out to go. Carol followed her down the empty hallway, skipping and loving this side of Evie that poured like tar.

“Does he at least buy you nice dinners? I bet he’s flush with cash. Buys you things in leather and lace. Does he have a preference? I think lace. You're a dainty spring flower he plucks the petals from all for himself. Right?" Carol struck Evie with an arrow at that sentiment. "Is Billy jealous? Bowers is probably into the weird shit. You must be a real pro at-” Carol hitched to squeal when Evie flared.

Two hands plucking her up to shove her into the lockers. Breaths in sync, Evie found herself hissing. A fire built to pour and ravage. Warming them both. She leaned too close to Carol's face.

“Just, shut up.” She trembled, teeth-baring. A silver tear fell down her cheek. Fingers warped into Carol's pink turtleneck sweater. The trapped girl actually reached up to catch it on her finger. Looked dreamily into the droplet like she was viewing a distant memory.

“Ah, you’re actually crying. Like a little baby. You should start wearing a big red A, Fen. Bowers must love having a little baby girl around. Dress her up and down, down, down.” Carol sneered, glossy lips popping.

She dropped the pretense as Evie held her there. Let it all flutter. Started to shatter silently. Evangeline wondered. She really wondered if what Carol Perkins saw in her that she hated so much was just herself reflected. Poor thing.

Poor things.

"You don't know shit about me." Evie managed. It sounded so unconvincing coming out.

"I know all these people around here are weak. They're so fucking weak." Came the spark. "But, not us."

Carol came in close. Added fuel to the fires. Did something peculiar and gave Evie this sickly sweet peck on the lips. Gloss and red mingled. She stole something she saw deep inside of Evie that she felt too. Got shoved back again when Evie recovered. Tongued her mouth after tasting the salt of more tears. Carol was welling now. Voice low. Starting to quiver. Evie's fingers left blushing marks on freckled skin.

It hurt and Carol loved that it hurt.

“It feels good, doesn’t it? Real good. Pile that pain onto someone else. This. Feels better.” Carol sniffled with budding fury. Waited for admission. She tremored and asked a question that killed them both. "What happens when we run out of silky petals, Evie, huh? What the fuck do we do then?"

Tears shed, they didn't cleanse.

"I d-don't know, Carol," Evie released the thoughts and mourned it deeply, "but, I think about it every single day."

Disgust welled. Evie thought of Fredrick grabbing at her. Seething to keep their secrets locked at any cost.

Wheels within wheels. Turning endlessly.

Fires within fires.

She dropped Carol and stalked off. Proud like Hester in The Scarlet Letter. Fleeting temptress with dominance and power for days like Abigail in The Crucible. Heroines and villains and virgins and whores and martyrs. None of them win.

Women were always packaged just so. The world seemed to prefer that. All these stories Fredrick made her read and reread until she took them into her soul. Lolita who always gets the blame she never deserved because she was young and a victim and no one cares about that. Why don't they care about us? They care about how she was prepackaged by a society that never tried to save her.

No one cares or grieves why and how women are carved from pristine marble, only that it's their fault if they tarnish and crack. Their fault if they stumble and fall. No going back.

No going back.

White roses painted red. They never asked first.

Evie was a couple of steps away from the classroom when a mass of claws tore into her curls. Yanked her back so hard that her backpack fell off.

“Still pretending you’re better than me, bitch! Admit it!”

Evie cried out. Alerted nearby classes. Thought of Fredrick tearing her down the same way and whirled with her hand out on pure instinct. Smacked Carol in the mouth. Froze with huge eyes. And Carol actually smiled. Bloodied teeth and sticky lip gloss. She looked like such a girl there.

"Alright, Fenny babe, I'll play the villain for you. Just like you wanted." Carol dove on Evie while classes began to pool out. They hit the floor and lockers rolling around. Not really landing punches or slaps. Just locked around each other shouting and tearing into clothing and loose hair. Both crying.

“Shit!” Billy, Steve, and Tommy shoved through the jeering teens to pull them apart. Chaos rained.

“Girl fight! Girl fight!” This school really reveled in such things every single time.

“We need help here! Ladies, enough!” The poor substitute in Bowers' room was not having a great first day.

“Get off me!” Carol finally detached from Evie so Billy scooped her up under the arms. The redhead noticed Mr. Bowers wasn’t around and stopped struggling. This cruel look twisted her face.

“Can’t leave you alone for a second, huh?” Billy’s voice brought Evie back into the shouting as she scrambled up with his help.

“You two! Principal!” Another teacher came between them. The useless security guard was just now jogging around the corner. Evie tore her bag up and passed Steve and Tommy. Carol was already stomping off. Something awful lighting her bones aflame. Red locks bounced and became fire.

Ushered away through crowds, they were put into a cramped room. Seated next to each other.

“Perkins and Fenny?” Their principal plopped into a chair with his secretary sitting in back to make notes. “I haven’t had problems with either of you.”

Carol burst right there. Sobbed through the words.

“It’s all Evie's fault! She slept with him and she’s just getting away with it! She gets everything! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of all this and...and I want it to stop! I just want it all to stop!”

“Ms. Perkins, you’re not being app-!”

“What if I told you it was a grown man, huh! Maybe someone who works here.”

“Liar!” Evie wretched over her chair to swat at Carol until they had to be forced apart again into separate rooms. A clock ticked. Blared in her ear and made her crazy while she waited. Tears streamed.

Carol was about to ruin her life. Drag all this shit back to the surface.

God, what would Mona say if she knew her daughter was an evil temptress?

Evie got into her bag for something. Anything to make it better. Nothing small enough to swallow at the bottom so Evie just rocked. Patting her cheek again to console herself. Bubblegum lip gloss still stained her red lips. No wiping it away.

Chief Hopper poked his head into the room ten minutes later, causing her to drop the bag and send her items everywhere.

Hester. Abigail. Lolita. Twisting goddesses. They all pay for it somehow. The narrative always makes them pay and they never had a chance to be anything else. Can't blame them.

Poor things. Lost to the fires within fires.

Books and papers flew out elegantly around her feet. Scattering away as Evie burst into harsh tears.

~~~~~~~~~

Oof, sorry to end it there lads! More to come and thank you so so much for following as always. All the comments mean so much to me and I’d love to chat about the chapter!! Thanks!

TAGGED: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove smut #mine #somy #angel fenny #Billy x Angel #writing #Carol

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christineeej94 · 5 years ago

Text

Parenting ❤

a/n: I try to write two at day because my exams are coming and soon I will take a break. The requests are still open but I will post rare and I’m sorry because you are waiting. I will try to make everybody happy. Stay safe and great. Kisses 🌻

the request:

Anonymous said:

Would you be able to write an Aron Piper imagine where you guys are together & have a kid together & even though you guys agreed you would never argue in front your child one day you do & he makes you cry & leaves for a bit & the child asks what’s wrong but no matter what she tries to be strong & he eventually comes back, you can take it on from there...I hope this made sense lol

warnings: smut(+18), fluff, bad language and bad writing.

word count:2.313

Arón Piper x Reader

♠♠♠♠♠

When I got pregnant, I thought that my world is going to end. Having a baby at a young age is overwhelming, I had bad day and good day in my pregnancy journey and I thank to God that Arón was by my side. Are almost 5 years from the moment I gave birth to our son. Áres Marco Rico Barbero Piper is turning 5 in a couple of days. I don´t know when the time fly but I love this little nugget more than myself. My relationship with Arón it’s complicated right now. He became cold as ice with me, maybe because he works all day and when he arrives home, I’m already sleeping. Today I woke up with a good energy and I let Arón to sleep a little bit longer before I’ll wake him up to go to set. “Morning, mami.” Áres greeted me smiling from his bed. He gets up quickly and fix his pajamas with cars on it. His curly hair is messy like his father, he looks exactly like Arón, it’s like his mini twin. “Mommy, we can eat french toast this morning?” his soft voice makes my heart beat so fast every time. “Sure, hermoso. We can surprise daddy, what do you think?” I smiled and he hugged me with his little arms. We go together in the kitchen and I remember when I got pregnant, Arón bought this house because our family is growing. We aren’t married but right now it’s not a problem for me.

“Do you want to help mommy preparing the breakfast for you and daddy?” “Sure” I cooked everything and I put all the food on a plate for Arón. I handle the plate to my son and he walked with little steps to our bedroom. “Papaaa, wake up, we made fast.” I giggle when I heard my son and Arón groans, getting up. “¡Joder! (Y/N) why don’t you wake me up on time?” my boyfriends yelled then is looking at his son. “Thank you, Áres, now let mommy and daddy talk.” My son understood and go to his room probably. “I’m going to be late because of you.” He rushes to the bathroom and I heard the shower water running. “The water is cold as fuck.” He cursed and I prepare his clothes. “Today I’ll let Áres to my mom.” I said smiling when he got out fast putting his clothes on a rush. “Yeah, sure, do what you want. See you tonight.” He left without a kiss or a hug and this makes my heart heavy. I looked at me in the closet mirror. After 5 years I took 4 or 6 pounds, I’m not walking anymore just in a t-shirt and underwear and I even don’t know what makeup products I have.

I didn’t have time to do some things that I usually done before. “Mommy, I want to play.” My son yelled from his bedroom and I rolled my eyes. It’s the copy of his father, defiantly.

After hours of staying with my child, feeding him, playing with him and repeat, I dropped him at my mom and I hurry home to get ready. I was planning to surprise Arón tonight. I wax myself and I put some makeup on my face. I dressed with a nice lingerie and I put a satin robe on. I order some food and I look on Netflix for his favorite series. He should be here in 30 minutes.

I waited and I waited and I think I fall asleep on the couch because I woke up at half past midnight when I heard his keys unlocking the front door. “Hey, what are doing here?” he mumbled and he looks nervous. “I wanted to surprise you.” I look at the food, which is cold now and the TV who turned off by itself. “Sorry, I met an old friend on my way home and we stopped at a bar. I’m so tired.” I nodded and I go to bedroom. I dressed up of the lingerie and I put on my common pajamas. I take off my makeup and I put myself in bed beside him. “Good night.” I mumbled and I start to cry quietly.

Next day Arón was free so we took Áres from my mom and we come back home. He is playing with his son and I’m cooking the dinner when I cut my finger with the knife while I’m chopping some onion. “Puta mierda.” I cursed and Arón comes to check on me. “What happened?” he asked and I putting a bandage on my finger. “Nothing, I was inattentive.” “Sure you are okay?” I don’t know what was with me in that moment but I explode. “I’m fucking okay, Arón. And you are too. With your friend in the bar late in night, while your baby mommy is waiting for you.” I yelled and I see the little curly head of my son looking at us. “What’s the problem? We become boring, we don’t do things like we used to.” He yelled too and continue. “I need a fucking break, I’ve had enough of this family moment. You are always with our son, you don’t want to go anywhere cause we can’t bring Áres and you don’t slept with me because you are always tired.” He screams and our son started to cry. “¡Joder!” Arón cursed and I think I started to cry too. I took my son in his room and I tried to make him stop. After 20 minutes he fell asleep and I go back to kitchen to drink something. When Áres started to understand some words, we decided not to argue in front of him and also no yelling or fighting.

He told me that I’m the problem and maybe I am, but he is the part of the problem too. I took a shot of tequila and I turned around when I see him coming. “I’m sorry” he apologized and I nodded. “Sure and next time to the same.” I replied sarcastically. “Babe, I’m really sorry, I’m very tired and you are tired and I don’t know. Before this family thing it was very simple.” I rolled my eyes out and I cursed. “You should have realized this before you fucked me without a condom. Plus, I know I gained some weight but I wanted to sleep with you and you got excuses, so don’t put this problem on my shoulders.” I said on a low voice. He rubs his forehead stressed and I put the dishes in the sink. I’m so furious right now because I want hit his face, that I love, so bad. “Forgive me, mi amor. Let’s make peace and love.” I grin and I let my head on the side. The situation changes drastically and now I’m in his arms, kissing each other like we are hungry. I miss him with all my body.

“We are crazy.” Arón says groaning and lift my t-shirt. He tastes my nipples and go down on my stomach. I blushed and I moaned because of his wet kisses. I take off his hoodie and I smell his cologne which I adore. “We are doing this in the kitchen?” I asked when he lifts me on the counter. “We aren’t old yet, so let me fuck you here.” He moaned when he pushed himself inside me. “I forgot how tight you are, baby. I missed you.” Arón kissed my forehead and moves faster and faster inside me making me moaning so load. “Lower baby, our son is sleeping.” He giggles and I nodded putting my hand on my mouth. “¡Joder!” we cursed in the same time and we cum. “I love you” I said and he smiled, kissing my lips and my cheeks. ”I love you, mi amor.” He replied and helped me to get down.

In the morning I woke up with a good mood and I’m feeling like a different person. I put my hand in the space where my boyfriend should be but it’s empty. “Babe.” I said and I rub my eyes. He isn’t in the bedroom or balcony. I got up and first I will check my baby. “Áres, wake up baby, it´s time to shine.” I said and he groans and rolled in bed. I think he wants to sleep more. In the dressing room is a mess. Clothes throwed away everywhere, some voyage bags are took out messier and a lot of Arón stuff is missing. I search him everywhere, but he isn’t in the house. I found a letter on the dining table. His promise ring is on it. I take it in my hands and unfold it.

“My love,

I’m sorry, all the night I was thinking at my life, our life and it became very crowded. I left for a while and I’m trying to found myself. It’s too much for me. I love you and I love Áres, but I can’t handle anymore.”

Simple but with a big effect on me. I wanted in that moment to scream and hit everything is in this room. I take his ring, I wide open the window and I throw away the ring with my initials on it. “Fuck you, Arón Piper” I cursed screaming. I fell on the floor and I let my tears to blow out of my eyes. “Mommy, where is daddy and why are you crying?” his little voice is heard from the kitchen door and I get up wiping my tears with my hoodie. “Baby, daddy left with work for a while and he will come back soon, okay? You will stay with mommy.” He approves and I take him in my arms. “Love you, mom.” He kisses me on the cheek and plays with my messy hair. “I love you too, Áres.” I hugged him tight and I try to calm me down.

After two weeks

Arón didn´t come home yet and I’m starting to believe he wouldn’t come at all. Áres is asking me everyday about him and I just tell him. “Papá loves you.” Then he goes to play or watch a movie. I talked with Danna and she told me that no one knows anything where he went. Today is my son birthday and he turn 5. He grown up so fast. “Áres, tell mommy what do you want for you birthday and mommy will buy it for you.” I said and I put the buttercream cake in the fridge. “I want papá to come home.” He said and bite from his sandwich. I soul fall apart when I heard what he said. I’m throwing a party for him today and I will love to have his father here with us, to be a family, but that isn’t to happened. “Uncle Miguel, auntie Mina and auntie Danna are coming to your party, aren’t you happy?” he nodded and get up. ”I want daddy.” He yelled and run to his room. Those weeks were so bad. I didn’t sleep and I didn’t eat too much. I feeling empty and every time I’m looking at my son, I see him.

The party started, the kids are running everywhere, the entire home smells like pizza and fries. My son opened all his gifts and spares the wrapping paper all over the living room. “Look mom, uncle Miguel gifted me an Xbox.” He yelled and I turned around. “He’s five, he barely eats properly.” I laugh and the blonde guy smiled. “I like to see you smiling and laughing. You know we tried to talk with him, but he closed his phone.” I nodded sad and Danna squeeze my hand in hers. “You have Áres and he is the most important thing right now.” Mina said and hugged me. “Thank you, guys, for coming, you make my day better.” I said with tears in my eyes.

After the party was over, Áres fell asleep quickly and I started to clean up the house. When I finish, I went to kitchen and I’m starting eat some cake. “You look damn fine in this dress.” I heard a masculine voice from behind me and I turn around scared. In my scary mood I hit, like an idiot, my face with the fork. “Arón. You came home.” I said and I hugged him tight. “Yes and I’m not living anymore. You two are my family and I realized that after I left. And now I’m here, ready to do what I supposed to do a long time ago.” He kissed me slowly and I explode in tears. “Close your eyes, amor.” He mumbled and I obeyed. “Now open.” I open my eyes and I see him in front of me kneeling. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N) do you marry me?” he asked on a shaky voice. “No.” I said serious and he gaps. “Of course I do, silly head, I’m just messing with you.” I laugh smiling and I kissed his miffed lips. He opens the little box that he kept it in his palm. A small ring with a small diamond on it, is now on my finger. “Love you for the eternity, mi amor.” He said and I kissed him. “Love you, Arón, the love of my life.” “And, also, I have a surprise. Maybe it’s not that happy but I found out today.” I mumbled and I open a drawer. “I’m pregnant again.” I hand it him the test and he smiled. “This time I’m not running and I’m so happy that I come home to my family. I can’t believe it we are going to be parents again.” He in shock and put the test down. “I hope it’s another strong boy.” I rolled my eyes and I put my hands on his shoulder. “I think it’s a girl this time.”

#aron piper imagine #aron x reader #aron piper x reader #aron piper #aron imagine #elite imagine #elite cast #elite #babies #love #break

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havenoffandoms · 4 years ago

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Sweeter Than You (Eskel/Lambert, Modern AU)

Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses prompt list.

Prompt: "A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating."

Pairing: Eskel/Lambert

Content Warning: Modern AU (lawyer Lambert, baker Eskel), implied sexual content at the end of the chapter (nothing graphic)

Read on AO3.

Lambert has had the shittiest day at work.

First, he got stuck in downtown Novigrad traffic even though his traffic app told him that the roads were all clear, which in turn made him late for his 9am meeting. Real professional, great first impression. His client was understanding about the situation, but Lambert hates being late, especially when he’s trying to score new clients for his firm. The meeting went well despite his tardiness, and Lambert is convinced he’ll get the case settled in no time, but his day just kept getting shittier and shittier. He ended up spilling hot coffee on his brand new suit and the only spare he kept at the office was slightly too snug when he put it on. Great, he apparently put on weight, too. That has to be Eskel’s fault, what with all the treats he bakes for Lambert at the weekend.

If the day wasn’t bad enough, Lambert’s car broke down on his way to lunch with an important client. It took the tow-truck a whole hour to get to him, which meant that Lambert had to cancel on his client and lose out on a potential settlement agreement. To add insult to injury, the sandwich Lambert ended up buying from a nearby bakery tasted of ass. Though admittedly Lambert’s taste buds have considerably developed since he started dating Eskel, because the man is a literal genius in the kitchen. Lambert can’t eat generic sandwiches anymore without comparing them to Eskel’s creations.

When the tow-truck finally showed up, Lambert decided to call time of death on this generally miserable day. He called his secretary and told her to clear his diary for the day, which he knew that Essi would pull off. She’s hands down the best secretary in the whole of Novigrad, in Lambert’s eyes anyway, and well worth the considerable salary he pays her each month. After calling Essi, Lambert hailed down a taxi only to find that he left his wallet in his car, which was now being towed away to the nearest garage. Great. Just fantastic.

Fuck this shit, fuck his car, fuck his job, and fuck the entire universe.

Lambert just starts walking without a clear destination in mind. His suit is too tight and uncomfortable, but he can’t bring himself to care as he tries to work off the anxious energy bubbling in his chest. He wants to scream, or punch something, whatever yields the most satisfaction. Why is the world against him today? What did he do to deserve this? Lambert considers dialling Eskel, but he knows that his boyfriend won’t be able to hear the phone if he’s at work.

Oh, wait a second.

Lambert looks around for the first time since storming off and he quickly realises that he’s not actually too far away from Eskel’s shop. The thought brightens his mood a little - if Lambert’s not able to go home and hide away from the world, at least he can spend the afternoon helping his boyfriend out in the bakery. Or just wait until Eskel has a minute to spare so Lambert can hug out all his frustrations in the backroom… or do other things in Eskel’s office. With a renewed spring in his step, Lambert makes haste towards Eskel’s shop.

It doesn't take long for him to reach Lil Titbits, a quaint-looking shop just off the main street of Novigrad's business centre. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but Lambert knows just how hard Eskel worked to make the inside of his shop as inviting and cosy as humanly possible. As soon as Lambert steps inside the bakery, the heavenly smell of warm baked bread and freshly made coffee invades his nostrils. If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend like he’s stepping inside his and Eskel’s home rather than his boyfriend’s shop.

The little bell above the door chimes loudly, announcing his presence. Lambert instantly notices that the place is quiet - which is not unusual for a Wednesday afternoon, when most of Eskel’s customers are still either at work or at school. Lambert notices an elderly couple sitting in the booth by the window, enjoying a generous slice of lemon-meringue pie - oh fuck, Lambert loves Eskel’s lemon-meringue pies - between themselves. Lambert can’t fathom why anyone would share a slice of pie that good, especially since Eskel’s creations are by far the best fucking thing Lambert’s ever tasted. People are weird.

Apart from those two customers, the place is empty. It doesn’t take long for Eskel to appear behind the counter, wearing his favourite apron, the one that reads “They Call Me Darth Baker” written in a white font on the black fabric. Geralt, Eskel’s brother, bought him that apron for Christmas, but Lambert never thought Eskel would actually wear it at work, for every customer to see, but that’s Eskel for you. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about what people think of him. Lambert has always admired that about him.

“Hey babe,” Eskel greets him, his smile bright enough to rival the moon, stars, and the fucking sun. The deep baritone of his boyfriend’s voice washes over Lambert in calming waves. “Bit early for you to be here. Everything alright?”

Lambert’s legs move of their own volition, and before he knows it, he’s behind the counter burying himself in the warmth and safety of Eskel’s arms. “I am now,” he breathes, his tone just on that side of pouty, before rubbing his cheek against Eskel’s nerdy apron. He doesn’t give a shit if the customers at the back of the shop see them, nor does he care if he ends up with flour in his beard. He needs this, needs to feel Eskel close, because today’s been a shitty day and the only person who can make it better is his boyfriend.

“Oh sweetheart, what’s up?” Eskel asks, his voice soft and reassuring like he’s talking to a spooked animal. Lambert only tightens his hold around Eskel, not ready to break the sweetness of the moment by reminiscing about his not-so-good-very-bad day. “Wanna move through to the kitchen?”

That, in fact, sounds like a great fucking idea. Lambert almost whines when Eskel pulls away from him, but the urge quickly fades when Eskel laces their fingers together and drags Lambert through the back by the hand. Once they have regained a semblance of privacy, Lambert lets Eskel pull him into another soul-crushing hug.

“I hate everything. And everyone. Well no, not everyone. I don’t hate you.”

“Mmh, good to know,” Eskel rumbles, sounding amused, “what happened, puppy?”

Lambert buries deeper in Eskel’s embrace as he replies, his words slightly muffled by the fabric of Eskel’s apron.

“Got stuck in traffic this morning, then was late for my meeting, spilt coffee on my suit, my car broke down, I missed lunch with a potential client who’s worth a buttload of money, and I’m getting fat,” Lambert ends, his tone decidedly whiny when he’s reminded of just how snug his emergency suit feels. Damn Eskel and his ridiculously good treats.

“Naw, hell Lamb,” Eskel shifts and grabs something resting on the working surface behind him. When Lambert looks up, he sees Eskel holding what looks to be a lemon and white chocolate muffin inches away from Lambert’s face. “Open up! My baking always cheers you up.”

“Your baking is the reason why I’m getting fat!” Lambert grouses half-heartedly, his tongue poking out from between his lips to lick at the buttercream frosting covering the top of the muffin. “Mmmh, white chocolate! I knew it.”

“Was gonna save it for you to celebrate your new client. Guess it can also be used as a consolatory muffin,” Eskel brings the treat closer to Lambert’s lips and offers a small, encouraging smile, “c’mon, take a bite. I promise you’ll feel better.”

Lambert can’t resist Eskel’s pretty eyes anyway, so he happily lets his boyfriend feed him the muffin. Lambert takes a huge chunk out, the white chocolate and lemon flavours exploding on his tongue pulling an appreciative moan. Lambert’s eyes flutter shut as he savours his morsel, and when he opens them again, he sees Eskel’s smile has widened into a pleased grin.

“Good?” he asks, like there’s any fucking doubt about how good his muffin tastes.

“As always,” Lambert whispers in response, snatching the muffin out of Eskel’s hand and stuffing what’s left of it in his mouth. Eskel levels him with an unimpressed look, clicking his tongue in disapproval at his boyfriend’s actions.

“You’re gonna choke one of these days,” Eskel tells him, trying not to laugh as Lambert tries to chew around the massive bite in his mouth, “look at your lil hamster cheeks. Adorable.”

Lambert glares - the full effect of his scowl is probably lost on Eskel, though, with how Lambert is still struggling to swallow his treat - but the intention is there. Eskel shakes his head fondly before leaning in and catching Lambert’s lips in a chaste kiss which probably tastes sweet and lemony, but Eskel doesn’t seem to mind the taste of his dessert on Lambert’s lips. It takes Lambert a little while to swallow the food in his mouth, but when he does, he puckers his lips in a silent request for more of Eskel’s sweet kisses.

“Yes?” Eskel teases, raising one eyebrow, “can I help you?”

Lambert’s lower lip juts out into a sad pout at those words, an action that pulls a warm chuckle from deep within Eskel’s chest. He takes pity on Lambert and pulls him impossibly closer to his firm body, rubbing his nose against Lambert’s in a tender gesture. Lambert’s hands come to rest on Eskel’s hips, where he squeezes the soft flesh of his boyfriend’s puppy fat. Gods, but he loves absolutely everything about Eskel.

“Can you close the shop early today and take me home?” Lambert asks, voice barely above a whisper, as he stretches up to capture Eskel’s mouth in a demanding kiss that leaves very little as to which kind of activity Lambert has in mind for their evening together. His hand squeezes Eskel’s hip more firmly, pulling a needy whine from his boyfriend in response.

“Minx,” Eskel growls under his breath, punctuating his statement with a final kiss, “I’ll see what I can do.”

As Eskel walks away, Lambert doesn’t miss the way his boyfriend has to readjust his pants which are now tenting at the front. Lambert leans back against the worktop of Eskel’s baking table, and first undoes the buttons of his suit jacket, then the top three buttons of his shirt. He, unlike Eskel, isn’t trying to hide the visible bulge forming in his far too tight pants, dammit.

“You do what you have to do, sweetheart,” Lambert speaks in a sultry tone, the irritation brought on by a rather shitty start to the day long forgotten when he meets Eskel’s lust-blown eyes, “I’ll be right here, looking like a goddamn snack for you the whole time.”

Eskel curses under his breath, pointedly looking away from Lambert.

“Bastard. You just wait until we get home,” Eskel threatens half-heartedly before leaving the kitchen to empty the showcases and store the pastries in the refrigerators on the main shop floor. Lambert feels positively giddy with anticipation at the thought of how him and Eskel will spend the rest of the evening.

Lambert’s day, in spite of everything, doesn’t seem so shitty in the end, not when he’s got Eskel to come home to.

#the witcher #eskel the witcher #the witcher eskel #eskel #the witcher lambert #lambert the witcher #lambert #lambert x eskel #eskel x lambert #lambert/eskel #eskel/lambert #lambskel #modern AU #baker Eskel #lawyer Lambert #havenwrites #fluff #kiss prompts

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years ago

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The Sweetest Thing: Two

Bucky sat at the table and watched you close up shop, putting money and receipts into a bank bag and rounding up day-old pastry and putting them into boxes neatly.

“What are you doin’ with those, doll?” Bucky asked, curious.

“Donating them,” you say simply, “There are a few missions around here, so I box them up. There’s no sense in throwing out pastry that’s still perfectly good. Or letting people go without eating said pastry.”

Bucky smiled, “That’s cool.”

“Sara gave me the idea,” you say fondly. The little girl, Bucky had learned, was one of seven nieces and nephews. And your Lieutenant. Your second in command when she was in the shop. “She read a newspaper article or something about all the food that gets thrown away every day and asked if we could give away the pastry at the end of the night.”

“Smart kid,” Bucky said, taking a sip from the water you’d handed him earlier.

“The kids are alright,” you agree.

You tuck things aside for your accountant and make sure you have all the stuff locked down and put away. Before taking the pastry boxes to the people who were coming to the door to collect them.

“Thanks, Y/N!” they say, clasping your hand, “The kids love the cookies.”

“I might have made a few more than I needed this morning,” you tell them winking.

There’s laughter, and the guys give you a wave as they load the boxes into a car as if they’re made of glass.

“So,” Bucky mused, watching you lock the doors, “got any plans tonight?”

“Going home and getting cleaned up. Then having a couple glasses of wine and passing the fuck out and being thankful I don’t have to do the early morning shit anymore,” you answer.

“Want some company?” he asks, giving you a crooked smile that served him so well when he’d had a pretty dame he wanted to take out before.

“Maybe,” you mused, “Depends on what you have in mind.”

“Well,” he said, smirking, “How about you drink some wine and tell me all about cake. And I enjoy watching a pretty girl drink wine and tell me about cake.”

“I can do you one better than that,” you tell him, smiling.

“Oh?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’ll get wine drunk and bake you a cake,” you tell him.

“Oh, I see,” he said, grinning, “pandering to my lust for pretty girls and my sweet tooth. A solid plan.”

___________

And that’s how Bucky found himself in your kitchen, sitting on a counter and listening to you lecture him on the perfect consistency of cake batter and how to keep buttercream from curdling. He kept refilling your wine glass and just soaked it in.

It was passion. A passion that was quiet and determined. The smell of baking cake and lovingly crafted icing called him back to a time long before HYDRA or SHIELD. It reminded him of his little sisters learning to bake and using he and Steve as Guinea Pigs for their concoctions, not all of them edible.

This one was definitely going to be edible, though. There was a smell of ginger and lemon and cinnamon and a bunch of other things he couldn’t define. He couldn’t describe them, but they smelled like magic. Antique. If Sepia tone had a scent, that was what it would smell like, and it was, somehow, what he needed.

He watches you hum to yourself as you mix and painstakingly combine ingredients to make a filling and some icing and smiles a little. He can’t help it. If this is a date, this is the longest he’s ever gone through a date without getting a little bit of a cuddle. And he really does feel a bit bad about making you work for his entertainment.

So he comes and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you, lacing his fingers together over your stomach.

“Hey,” you murmur, turning your head briefly to press a kiss against his bicep.

“Hey, baby girl,” he chuckles. You’re warm and deliciously soft. Inviting. And he’d really like a taste, but he knows that once he starts, he won’t stop. And he also knows that if he makes you burn his cakes, you’re going to be irritated at him.

He loosens his grip to give you more room to work and presses a soft little kiss against the back of your neck, “Would you be mad at me if I told you I want a taste of more than just your cake?”

You half turn and smile up at him, tipsy and on the verge of giggles, “No.”

Bucky can literally feel himself go to putty in your hands and cradles your jaw in his metal hand, “May I?” he asks softly.

“Please?” you ask softly. His lips look perfect. And you have a soft spot for beard burn and blue eyes. You need to know if he tastes as good as he looks.

“Oh,” he breathed, leaning in slowly, “Sweetheart, you don’t know how pretty that sounds to me.” But he doesn’t waste any time, kissing you gently, savoring the sweet taste of wine on your lips, and picking you up carefully to set you on the spot of the counter he had vacated.

When he comes up for air, your cheeks are burning from more than just the wine, and you smile at him, “Not bad for a fossil,” you tease.

“Thanks,” he says, chucking you under the chin. He was about to say more, but your eyes went wide, and you jumped off the counter, narrowly missing his foot.

“My cakes!” you gasp, “Fuck-”

You open the oven quickly, fumbling for hot pads, and Bucky nudges you out of the way gently, lifting the pan that had individual cakes baking on it using his metal hand.

You look like you could cry, and Bucky sets the pan down carefully, “Baby, it’s okay.”

“But, I promised you a cake.”

“And then I distracted you,” Bucky pointed out, chuckling. “Besides. They aren’t burnt... just a little crispy.”

Your lip trembles and Bucky chuckles, “Oh no, you’re a weepy drunk, aren’t you?”

“Only when I burn cakes,” you protest, stomping your foot.

“Then I’ll just eat the icing,” he says, grinning, “And maybe nibble on you.”

“Just a nibble?” you ask raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe more than a nibble,” he said pulling you against him gently and tangling his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back to kiss a line down your throat that makes you whimper. “Good girl,” he praises, “My good girl.” He doesn’t know what it is really that makes a girl melt when he says that but he’d happy to see it work on you. And even more happy to see you’d forgotten all about the burnt cake on the counter.

Tags: @lancsnerd @dumbubblegum @thorfanficwriter

#Bucky Barnes #soft bucky #bucky x reader #fluff #first date #kinda smut #oral sex mention

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danganronpa-21 · 5 years ago

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Happy Birthday Best Girl! ft. Some birthday headcanons

I couldn’t manage some writing this year, but for those of you who don’t follow my Instagram, I did manage an edit. Thought I might slap on some fun birthday headcanons to at least contribute a little more for my best girl:

- Based around the math I did two years ago, Kyoko would be twenty-five years old today.

- She’s halfway to being thirty and has no idea how to deal with it.

- She tries not to think about it though, she’s pretty focused on that career of hers! Since the Tragedy’s wake, she’s become a highly requested detective. People mostly ask her to locate or discover the fate of missing family members.

- She gets her birthday off of work. Not because she asks for it herself, but because Makoto asks her to. It’s her second year of being a married woman on her birthday, so she accepts and lets him take care of her.

- She gets birthday breakfast in bed. She hears Makoto stumbling about in the morning to get it, and she feels the absence of his warmth in their bed, but she pretends to be asleep anyway. And pretends to be surprised when presented with breakfast.

- Kyoko spends her birthday doing pretty much whatever she wants. Literally. Makoto has handed her the reigns to do whatever she wants -- he’s not allowed to say no to her.

- As such is the case, they end up spending their entire morning watching old detective movies while Kyoko cuddles with Makoto and their grumpy old cat, Kimi. The bonus of this is that she can solve the mysteries before and happily blurt out the answer whenever she pleases. Still, for some of them she strings Makoto along to get him to give the right answer.

- She notices Makoto’s on his phone a lot. He seems like he’s texting someone. She tries to ignore it, thinking it’s probably just work people pestering him. He’s been swamped with paperwork lately.

- At the end of the movie marathon, they head over to the local bakery to pretend to be a newly engaged couple (rather than the already wedded couple that they are) for the sake of getting cake samples. It’s one of the few times Makoto will happily splurge on anything. They rate the cake flavours from best to worst on a chart Kyoko draws in her notebook.

- Kyoko’s favourite was the chocolate buttercream. Makoto was caught between raspberry chocolate and plain vanilla. Predictably.

- They stop at the florist on their way through town. Makoto buys her a bouquet filled with an assortment of purple flowers, because they remind him of her. She carries them happily through town.

- Their next stop is to a little book store run by a retired literature professor. She discovers that it’s already been arranged that she should get to spend however long she wants reading books in his store for her birthday. She takes full advantage of this, and spends hours in there. It gets to the point where Makoto has to get her to leave whilst carrying armfuls of books.

- If he hadn’t told her that he intended to take her out dancing as a treat that night, she probably wouldn’t have left.

- They got home and started getting ready, applying make-up and getting in to their best outfits for the night. It had been awhile since Makoto had last taken Kyoko dancing, so she couldn’t help but be excited. Mostly, they just danced around like goofballs in their kitchen while cooking breakfast.

- When they got in to the car, she noticed something was different about Makoto. He seemed a little too excited to just be taking her out dancing, like he said he was. She knew he must have had a surprise in store, but she didn’t tell him she knew.

- She couldn’t help but smile at how right she was, as when they entered their dancing venue, she was greeted by shouts of: “SURPRISE!”

- Just as expected, her friends had put together a surprise birthday party for her. They had all been waiting in a decorated venue and everything. She was greeted with all kinds of smiles and hugs and happy birthdays from her loved ones.

- So many loved ones at the party! The room is decked out in purple and white decorations, streamers hanging from the ceiling and helium balloons all over the room.

- There’s an amazing cake, too. Aoi baked it herself, with a little help from Komaru. Toko helped decorate it. Funnily enough, it’s chocolate buttercream -- the flavour she had so greatly enjoyed when she and Makoto were cake tasting.

- Makoto set up other foods, too. There’s tasting plates of some of her favourite around the world delicacies, something she knows must have been expensive. She assumes that this was Byakuya’s contribution to the party.

- She spends much of the party eating and drinking and talking with her friends, thanking them all for such a wonderful party. She genuinely doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have such loving people in her life.

- At some point, Yasuhiro inevitably takes down one of the helium balloons and inhales as much helium as he can to make his voice higher. In this state, he gives a loving speech about Kyoko, and gets the whole crowd to sing her happy birthday. He nearly passes out at the end of it, on account of having inhaled too much helium.

- Once Hiro recovers, everyone starts pushing gifts at her. From Toko, she receives a stack of new notebooks and pens for her detective work. Toko says that she went for her own personal favourite brands, and insists that they’re the smoothest for writing. Yasuhiro gets her a crystal trinket that she doesn’t understand, but he insists that it “embodies her aura” and “will bring her luck in her new year of life”. Byakuya gives her a box of chocolates from Germany, saying he remembered that she had once told him that she loved chocolate from there. He claimed to have “bought some extra while on a business trip there”. Everyone knows he bought them just to be a good friend. Aoi gives her a new pair of gloves, white with cute light purple ribbons. A childish rainbow friendship bracelet is given to her too, with her name written on it. Aoi proudly boasts a matching one. Kyoko slips it on immediately, so happy to have a symbol of friendship.

- Makoto gives his gift to her last. It’s a diamond necklace, which shocks her, considering his frugal disposition. She acts how much he spent on it, and he doesn’t answer. He insists instead that the sparkle reminded him of her eyes, and he just knew he had to get it for her.

- The necklace is paired with a book, full of love letters that he has written to her. One for every day, starting on October 6th of the previous year. She hasn’t even read one of the letters yet when she pulls him in to a passionate kiss. Their friends cheer.

- When she finally pulls back, she can’t help but grin. “So,” She says, “How about that dancing you promised me?”

#danganronpa #kyoko kirigiri #naegiri #kyouko kirigiri

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lovemecharlie · 5 years ago

Text

NEW YORK MINUTE

An interactive story where you'll get to read and play along as your favorite wife and make choices. Good luck to you all and enjoy!

The First Night

When the private jet touched ground in NYC, Erik and his wives transferred to a matte black 12-passenger van where Bastion sat in the passenger seat to give the address of the house she'd rented via Noirbnb. The driver was an older black man named Sam and Erik watched him closely as he kept looking at Bastion.

“Erik, did you just hear that foolishness. JoJo said she tryna go to Dubai. For what,” Kimora cackled.

“Why Poosy? Just why,” Homie asked.

“I'm not entertaining this,” Hennessy chuckled.

“Think about it,” Josephine said launching into explanation while the others laughed.

“Eyes on the road, nigga,” Erik snapped suddenly causing everyone to look to the driver where Erik had been staring.

“Erik, leave that man alone,” Homie laughed when the driver flinched. “He don't mean no harm. You married nine beautiful women, what do you expect?”

“Hey, Mr. Driver Man, how old are you anyway,” Josephine leaned with Angel pushing her back and Erik throwing an evil expression daring Jojo to try him on this family vacation.

“Stop,” Angel cringed blocking Jojo.

“You and these old men,” Charlie laughed. “Hey Mr., you ever been to Dubai?”

“STOP. Mr. Sam, don't answer that,” Hennessy yelled. The driver continued to look ahead with Erik's eyes still burning a hole through his head.

---

The rental house was grand. It was no Stevens-Udaku estate by any means, but it was still larger and more luxurious than the average American home. A smooth dark stone path led to the front door where a quaint balcony jutted out overhead. There were many windows and many lights as well as many plants outdoors and artfully scattered inside as well. A complimentary fruit basket sat on the kitchen counter along with twelve decadent cupcakes which were boxed and sealed, and a few bottles of Arbor Mist wine in various flavors.

“This is my kind of vacation,” Charlie said around a mouthful of strawberry buttercream. “These cupcakes..” She gave a thumbs up. Erik tilted his head as if to say ‘Really?’ and she swallowed pointing to the fluffy cupcake in her hand. “I'm tasting it for poison. I'm the guinea pig.” He rolled his eyes and the group moved on looking through the lower level of the house while the driver took the bags upstairs and sat them in the hall. Vast living room, a bathroom, a movie theater den and a pool out back. They went upstairs and Bastion immediately paired everyone up for the rooms. There were five bedrooms.

“Daddy and I will-”

“Erik and who?” Hennessy cocked her head to the side. “No, try that one again.”

“Okay fine,” Bastion huffed, “Daddy and Kennedi. Is that fair?” Erik kissed her cheek when she pouted.

“Yep,” Homie said stepping forward in response to her government name being called. Erik smirked as she pulled him into the bedroom and waved her fingers closing the door.

“Don't forget to be dressed and ready for Broadway. No sleeping in tonight. Sleep tomorrow,” Bastion yelled pointing to the next room. “Angel a-”

“Got ya,” Ryley said pulling Angel into the room. The door closed before anyone else could comment.. and now Homie was moaning.

“Okay, I'm rooming with Aly'Sha. Kimora, you're with Jojo. Henny, you're with Charlie,” Bastion pointed. The groups scattered with an agreement to reconvene when it was time to leave.

---

They'd all arrived at Broadway with time to spare dressed to kill watching a captivating performance of The Lion King. When it was all over, they hadn't far to go to get to the restaurant for dinner. It was all in the heart of NYC. Carmine's was the name of the establishment and they were the focus of the dining floor in their eye-catching garb. They looked like movie stars taken off of the red carpet and dropped at a white cloth covered table. Erik wore a navy velvet suit with a crisp white button up and navy velvet loafers. His fade and facial hair was cleanly cut, locs freshly washed and retwisted with aloe, and his golden rimmed glasses took him from pimp to intelligent black professor. He beamed, showing off his platinum bottom grill as he admired his table full of beautiful women.

“Him drunk look at'em,” Ryley snickered gesturing to the grinning N'Jadaka. His eyes were squint. The wives snickered and smiled watching him shake his head like he was just the happiest man on earth.

“I wanna make a toast,” he slurred raising his wine glass. His vodka glass was empty. Since he wasn't driving, he could get as lit as he wished.. and he was. “I married…,” he hesitated thinking about it, “Nine beautiful ass bi-” he paused looking to Charlie, “-young ladies.. beautiful. Stunning. Radiant. Divine. Beguiling..”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you're smashed,” Hennessy giggled watching him point at her with a happy yet unfocused expression. She shook her head confused, laughing and Charlie met her eye just as humored. He was really drunk.

“I love all of you so much.. so, so, so, SO much,” he stressed shaking his head for emphasis.

“Oh my God,” Angel howled giggling so hard she started crying.

“Shh shh,” Erik hushed with a finger to his lips. “I would die for you, mon amour, ma vie, mon tout..”

Hennessy wiped the tears from her own eyes, still in a giggling fit as Erik turned his attention and declarations of eternal love to her, toast forgotten.

When the check came, Hennessy used Erik's card to pay and they all hobbled into the street with Erik still whispering sweet nothings switching from French, to Xhosa, and back to English without seeming to notice.

“Yotteru yo,” Charlie said switching to Japanese grinning as she helped Erik to walk since he was weaving on the sidewalk.

“Shhh,” he shushed leaning to whisper in her ear. “Nonono I'm not drunk, babygirl. Daddy just lit. Yottenai.. Yottenai.”

“You're drunk,” Hennessy laughed.

"Hey, I think there's a club nearby, like in walking distance. We can ditch the car since we'll have to wait on it to drive around the block in this traffic and reach us. Let's just walk and enjoy the city," Kimora enthused checking her phone's GPS. Erik jogged ahead to drape his arm over her shoulders.

"Lead the way baby." Suddenly he was walking straight and Charlie stared at him, mouth wide as Hennessy laughed. Kimora turned to walk down a blackened alley that they couldn't see the end of due to shadows. Erik was right there with her.

"Wait, no," Bastion froze. The only light in there was the moonlight.

"Don't be scared, I'm right here," Erik announced walking into the shadowy darkness with Kimora. Feeling safer with him than without him, Bastion rushed into the darkness clutching onto the back of Erik's soft blazer.

"Uh uh, hold up now. I don't know 'bout all this," Angel drawled placing her hand on her hips and looking to Ryley. "My security don't get here til tomorrow."

"I'll be ya security. We'll protect each other," Ryley promised holding Angels hand firmly in hers. Side by side they walked on in after Bastion. Homie looked to Jojo then and followed as Josephine grinned and walked into the alley first.

"Should we go," Charlie asked Hennessy as they hung back.

"Wait a minute." Hennessy paused on the sidewalk to pull her engineered joint out of her clutch. Charlie sparked the lighter for her and she smirked putting the joint to her pink lips. “Thank you wifey.”

“Anytime,” Charlie smiled watching Hennessy inhale and exhale clean smoke.

"I'm ready." Hennessy and Charlie turned together walking into the alley, Charlie's phone flashlight shining ahead.

---

Erik kissed his teeth noticing three shadows moving ahead and stepped in front of Kimora. "Why we can't just walk through the city in peace," he groaned. A gun lifted pointing at him and he rolled his eyes as three men approached, two black and one white.

One of the black guys let out a long whistle, kissing his teeth at the end. "This my lucky day, money and bitches falling in my lap." He racked his gun and made the count two peices aimed at Erik who smirked at the comment. They ain't know him or his wives. "Young nigga out here gettin it," the man snorted, spitting off to the side. "We been watching you, nigga. You not from here." He looked over Erik's fit and to the wives who were decked out in pricey gowns. "I hate to embarrass you like this in front of ya bitches, but... nah, I actually don't give a fuck. Get on your knees Carlton ass weakass bastard."

"You think you can walk up on me like shit sweet just because I'm surrounded by women? Hm. Also, Carlton didn't wear glasses," Erik sighed unbothered.

"Wow motherfucker, you have a death wish," the white man laughed. The other muggers were distracted for only a second and brought back to attention by the sound of four guns clicking nearly in unison. The distraction was all the time the wives needed to flip the script.

Ryley held her pistol out strong, her eyes never wavering. He posture was a cold dare. She dared them to try to pull the trigger faster than she could, gripping up her dress with her free hand in case she had to rip it and get crazy. Angel was loose from her wine and her gun had flown quickly into the air ready to pop at any movement of the men's fingers. She nearly fired simply because she was tipsy and they were annoying. She hobbled back on her high heels, mirroring Ryley's bold energy. She silently dared them to try and pull the trigger on her husband. They'd see ugly like they'd never seen before. Bastion had the gun that Erik had given her aimed at the white guy, but she didn't exactly know how to hold it or how to aim since she lacked gun skills. The heart was there, however, and she held the gun sideways like she'd seen in the movies before looking briefly to Ryley out the corner of her eye and holding the gun straight to mirror her pose. Josephine's gun was aimed for the other black guy and she stuck her arm out over Angel with her gun to the side, but that was just how she shot guns.

"Ain't nobody killing that nigga but me, y'erd. Pull the trigger and get sprayed like gřřřřtttt," Josephine threatened imitating the sound of an automatic assault rifle. Hennessy stoodby also unbothered and smoking her joint passing it off between Homie and Aly'Sha who were barely interested, they were so unafraid. Charlie stood watching the scenario through her phone's camera, chuckling in the background behind the armed wives. They had it handled. Two of the men turned tail, lowering their guns and running away, but that one bold one who was talking trash stayed with his gun up. Angel pulled the trigger and then Ryley shot. The man fell to his knees and forward dropping his gun. Charlie stepped forward and looked him over without touching him.

"He'll live," she determined walking on. Kimora and Erik followed and then Hennessy, Homie, Bastion, Angel, and Ryley. Aly'Sha walked on like nothing had happened and Josephine started to move on, but something in her witchy mind said no. She shot her gun sending a bullet to the man's head killing him. Aly'Sha rolled her eyes.

"Now we gotta get out of here," Ryley groaned walking faster. When they emerged into the street, they saw the club a couple of blocks away.

"See! Not that far," Kimora pointed.

---

* only JoJo is available to play now. Follow the links

Play as Hennessy

Play as Aly'Sha

Play as Ryley

Play as Angel

Play as Homie

Play as Charlie

Play as Kimora

Play as Josephine

Play as Bastion

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atopearth · 6 years ago

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Shall we Date? Guard me, Sherlock! Part 4 - James Moriarty Route

I think out of all the guys, James is probably the most openly affectionate with how much he loves the heroine and is unafraid to show it. Knew he was rich but dangg, having his own train and getting her the lead role for a play to showcase on that train with other rich and powerful people? Wow. I like how the heroine is cool with it and says she won’t disappoint him since he’s done so much for her as her fan. Hope this route will be interesting. Wonder if Sherlock will appear much again since all she did was go to him for advice on whether she should board that train and jumping on with James last minute has already solidified the fact that this will be a fun journey hahaha.

I gotta agree with the heroine, James is definitely charismatic, he’s got the right amount of humour and maturity balance that alongside Mycroft, them two are the ones I’m most interested in. I mean, they’re easy to talk to and are funny haha. I’ve never really liked pink as a colour but I guess I can kinda understand the heroine in saying that pink is a colour that makes you feel warm. Light pink is a soft and nice colour~ just like James, I’m more of a journey/process person than the end goal. It’s better when the journey is fun~ James has good taste, blue roses are definitely the most beautiful hahahah. The maths part isn’t my thing though lolol, so he perceives love as a formula where there’s a solution for everything and he loves to manipulate people hmmm, interesting. Just like the heroine, I’m curious about why Sebastian is so devoted to James that he doesn’t mind if he’s being manipulated though… I wonder why James is so interested in the heroine too.. he’s literally obsessed.

The heroine is right, James is kinda like an actor where he acts according to the situation and presents the most charismatic him that the audience wants to see except he’s not acting because that’s actually him. James definitely goes overboard with things like giving her new dresses to choose from every morning, renovating the dining car to a pink theme because she said she likes pink lol and then getting Jack and Sebastian to do the job hehehe, poor them. It’s a bit over the top but you can see his consideration for her feelings and that’s what matters I guess. Dangg, he so smoothly took the plunge and kissed her, it was like a confession and romantic gesture in one! So adorable that Sebastian is so good at cards with his poker face and he is ruthless against James even though he’s so loyal and lenient with him most of the time hahaha.

Omgg when he ate the heroine’s strawberry that she was leaving for last! I know her pain so well! I’m just like her, I like to leave the best for last as well hahaha. I wouldn’t know what to do if my partner was a criminal, that would be so difficult of a situation to handle. Kinda sad to see Sherlock trying to deny the heroine’s feelings because he doesn’t hope for her to like James but it’s too lateee. I’m glad that she could finally voice her concerns and fears in regards to a relationship with James and how she’d be really sad if their relationship only lasted whilst they were on the train even if she won’t regret it but it was nice to see him sincerely reassure her that he wants to be with her forever. I wonder if James thinks of himself as a hollow man since he is so fond of a few lines in the heroine’s play but despite that, attaining the heroine’s affections trumps everything? Hahaha I dunno.

Did James use the heroine to steal a painting off that guy? I mean, I trust James’ feelings for the heroine but it doesn’t change the fact that if he got her on this train to succeed in his plan… That could potentially be a deal breaker. I like that the heroine has a good memory and is smart enough to deduce that the painting might not have been stolen when he found out about it, but instead actually when previously the guy left his room and James furnished the dining car as an elaborate ruse. It was obvious but also saddening to be confirmed. She finally has the courage to ask whether James is M! She’s a really strong girl. M is his symbol of freedom… I kinda like how dramatic this route is, it has a completely different feel from Sherlock and John. It’s nice to know how importantly he regards the heroine before he disappeared though, Sherlock is really too reckless though to actually sacrifice himself just to do in James. He’s a detective, not the police!

It must be so hard for Sebastian, especially when the heroine told him that James thought of him as his other half and he replied saying how is he supposed to live now without this other half? I like that even though the heroine became quite irrational when she thought James died, she still stood her ground when he came back that she will change him into a good guy that won’t commit crimes anymore. Loll at Sherlock saying that he’s stubborn like her so he’ll make her turn to him instead of James haha. It’s kinda cute how different John and Sebastian display their relief of Sherlock and James being alive respectively. John’s was really funny though since he finally snapped at how inconsiderate Sherlock was for just appearing again without any apology or anything when they were all so concerned. Whereas Sebastian only said welcome home but you could really feel how much concern and relief there was in that simple line and in his eyes. They both have good relationships haha.

I can’t help but agree that the heroine is the detective that will defeat James in the end by being a good influence on him hahaha. I love how crazily extravagant everything is when it comes to James and them lol but the buttercream cake for James’ birthday was very sweet of Sebastian considering his personality, but I guess it would be like him since he cherishes James and the memories they share. Blue roses mean ‘attaining the impossible’ because it was a dream for rose enthusiasts but was impossible until it could be genetically engineered by people. Now I’m starting to like blue roses even more than I already do😊 I think the love they shared in this route was dramatic and very much like a rollercoaster love of your dreams with a bad guy but it was nice in its own way and I really enjoyed it. It was mostly because of James character, it's hard to not like him hahaha.

#guard me sherlock

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Diamonds Are A Boy’s Best Friend Chapter 46

When I met Ike and Lauren in the cafeteria, they were seated at a table and drinking sodas while having an animated conversation. I smiled as I made my way to the table, excusing myself as I weaved through the other visitors.

Ike stood up with a careful examination over my entire form top to bottom with his eyes, and returned the smile that hadn’t left my face since I walked out of my father’s room. “Is that glass for me?” I reached for the juice he’d gotten me and sat carefully when he held my chair. “Now, once we finish our drinks, I think we should head home and have lunch before round two of shopping.” Lauren was studying me carefully, and I wondered how much she’d learned through Ike and her own observant mind.

“Is it over?” She asked, taking a sip from her own glass. When I nodded, she smiled. “Good. Now we can all stop worrying so much, right?” I bit my lip and took care as I drank.

“I swear, you’re getting far too wise,” Ike was smiling as he shook his head. “When you’re ready, ladies, we’ll go home and unload. And rest.” His eyes landed on me and I rolled my eyes. “You’re running on adrenaline now, Liz, but Mimi isn’t coming for my head if she sees bags under your eyes.” Shaking my head, we sat and finished our drinks, then Ike helped me to my feet and tucked both of his ladies’ hands into the crook of his elbows and walked us back to the overloaded car.

We gave Ray-Ray the chore of finding people to take Lauren’s purchases upstairs, but I kept the smaller bag with me. Choosing to dine at one of the outdoor choices, I waited until we’d all ordered to finally put the bag in front of my stepdaughter. “I felt like you should have a little something new to go with your new room.”

Ike’s eyebrows rose, watching as Lauren pulled the wrapped boxes out of the bag. I hoped he approved of what I’d done, and as I shifted my gaze between the two, I felt more certain he did. Lauren’s gasp, as she opened the largest box first, showing Ike the small strand of pearls I’d chosen, and each subsequent one, the bracelet, the watch, and the earrings made her father’s smile grow.

She jumped from her chair and nearly tipped me out of mine in her exuberant show of happiness, but I wouldn’t have wished for a more regulated response. “Thank you, Liz, they’re-” She pulled back and I could see her dimple, and her eyes looking slightly glassy. “Grown up.”

“A young lady can’t do wrong with a set of pearls, Lauren.” I whispered, brushing her bangs back and holding her face between my hands. “And a nice watch.” I kissed her forehead and felt Ike’s hand on my back. “I’m glad you like them, sweetheart.”

Lauren saw a friend nearby and asked if she could show them, Ike nodded his agreement and off she ran, her boxes carefully in the bag they came in, but the wrapping paper still littering our table.

“That was a-” my eyes met his and he leaned close and kissed me lightly. “You’re so good for her, for us, Liz.” I smiled up at him and his hand fell naturally to the top of my bump. “Now that we’re alone,” I snorted and looked at the people surrounding us. “You know what I mean,” I chanced a glance toward our daughter and nodded. “How did it go?”

While Lauren and her friend gushed together over my gift to her, I told Ike every decadent detail of my meeting with Ben and Klein and by the end he was as relaxed and happy as I felt. “It’s not over, not until he’s behind bars permanently.” I reminded him, but my hand joined his on my bump. “But I think Lauren is right, we can stop worrying as much.” She rejoined us as the waiter brought our meals, taking away the wrapping paper with a smile as I thanked him.

We enjoyed lunch, and after I convinced Ike that sitting down while eating counted as rest, we left the hotel for the second round of shopping. I was taken aback by how knowledgeable Ike was about baby furniture. I suppose I shouldn’t have been, he was a father three times over, but every single woman I’d met swore that fathers showed none of the interest that mothers did where their children’s needs were concerned.

He knew my tastes, and he angled us toward the darker woods and high quality sturdy pieces. He asked questions I wouldn’t have thought to ask, he tested features I wouldn’t have known to try, and Lauren and I watched in interest as he made careful picks. The decor after the furniture was chosen was more of a family affair.

“Bunnies or bears?” Lauren asked, her nose scrunched up at the offerings.

I was surrounded by so many woodland creatures I almost felt overwhelmed. Bunnies or bears indeed. I bit my lip as I touched each pattern, wondering if the color mattered, and if blue, pink, green, or some mix of the three with a touch of yellow was the best route. My eyes met Ike’s and his smile calmed me a bit.

“Lauren’s was bunnies.” His dimple teased me and his eyes twinkled. “Danny and Stevie had bears.”

Ah, masculine and feminine or luck of the draw? Before I could ask, the softest looking white lamb caught my eye. I walked to it, and touched it carefully. “Lambs.” I offered softly, turning my head to see the two of them watching me with mirrored smiles. “Let’s do lambs.”

Buttercream yellow, with lamb prints, dark wooden furniture and a growing sense of yearning to meet our little one was what we had when we made it home. The furniture would come in a few days, the walls would be painted by then, and the accents we’d chosen would be in place and waiting.

“We should plan a babyshower.” Lauren said with authority as we had dinner in the penthouse that night. I raised an eyebrow, but Ike nodded.

“I don’t know anyone,” my words came slowly, but were no less true for the reluctance to admit it. “Not in Miami, at least.” I knew people in Europe, I knew my family in Chicago, but Miami? Well I was having dinner with two of the small handful I knew by name.

“Then we invite your family,” Ike said with a grin. “And we make it an event for the hotel.” I rolled my eyes. “What? If we combine the shower with our first wedding.” My eyes widened. “Did I mention that Sid left a message that the judge confirmed the divorce? I got it before we left this morning.” His eyes belied the casual tone he used to deliver such amazing news and I was gaping at him.

Lauren squealed, but I stared. “When would you want this to take place?” He shared a conspiratory look with his daughter and I suddenly knew what their animated conversation in the hospital cafeteria had been about.

“I have the office working on sending out the invites to your family now,” I nearly asked how, but shook my head. Sid. I had touched base with him before I came back and gave him contact information for Minnie. “As for our wedding and reception/babyshower?” His smile grew. “I think Lauren and June might be able to make something come together.” I shook my head, but couldn’t fight my own smile. “I told you, Elizabeth Diamond, I want to marry you, SOON.”

“And I want to make sure that everyone knows that my baby brother or sister is going to be so welcome to the family!” Lauren added, smiling at me across the table. “Are you too tired to come see what my room looks like so far?” She’d been in the room most of the evening, calling out to Ike when she needed his help, and I’d been regulated to the couch to wait and rest.

“Absolutely not,” I smiled. “I want to see how magnificent it looks.” Putting my napkin on top of my plate while Ike begged off to have a cigar on the balcony, I followed Lauren to her room. Once again I found myself gaping. She’d managed to change her room from small girl princess to teenage nobility in one day, and she was right it wasn’t finished. We still had the painters coming, and the window treatments to select. “Oh my.” I gasped, as she pointed out the touches she felt brought everything together. “You have such a truly discerning eye, Lauren.” She was beaming at me as I touched the high post of the bed she’d chosen. While I preferred darker stains, she chose a lighter oak, but it managed to look just as regal. The prints and the colors worked together so well that I wanted to tell her that her father should look to her if he chose to redecorate the resort.

“I love it.” She said, with a firm shake of her head. “It’s so-” She sighed with a contentment that made my own smile grow again. “Thank you, Liz.”

“For what?” I asked, as she easily folded into my body for a hug that I was growing accustomed to.

“Being you.” She whispered and my heart tugged at how much I found myself loving her, and Ike and his family. My family. “I love you.” “I love you, sweetheart.”

Ike was back in our bedroom in his boxers with a jewelry box beside him on the bed when I came to bed. “Molly’s?” I asked, starting to undress, but he was on his feet with his hands replacing mine before I had more than half a zipper undone.

“I told you, Liz, this is my job.” His lips touched the nape of my neck before he answered my dangling question. “Yes, the box was Molly’s. I thought that I’d get your help to make sure it’s all worthy of adding to Lauren’t collection.” I nearly told him that it was, but he seemed to want me to go through it with him so I stopped myself. Once he had me bare skinned before him, he pulled one of my loose and comfortable nightgowns from a drawer and let it fall over my head and settle on my body. “Got to keep you covered so my mind stays on the task.” He offered with a long kiss. “But as soon as we’re finished-” I felt a stir with that lingering promise.

Sitting on the bed with Molly’s box between us, I watched and listened as he told me about each piece. He was right, there wasn’t a lot of it, but it was quality. Which I expected from Isaac Evans when it came to the woman he loved.

“Give her all of it,” I told him, once he showed me the last pair of earrings. His eyes met mine and I smiled. “Give it to her and tell her every story and detail you just told me.” I took his hand and kissed each finger. “Show her how much you adored Molly, how you remember the reasons you gave her each piece, and how she looked when she wore them.” He was staring at me as I used my hand to place his on my cheek, leaning into the touch of his skin on mine as he cupped my face. “Remind her that you won’t forget her mother, no matter how much you love me, no matter how excited you are about our baby, tell her how much she reminds you of her. She idolizes her, Ike, and after hearing you tell me about her, I can see why.”

The next morning, after reminding ME why he adored me, how every detail of every moment since we first met was cemented as firmly in his mind and memory as Molly’s was, Ike helped me get ready for another day. And at breakfast, again in the penthouse, he told Lauren that they would be having dinner together alone that night. When she looked at me with worry, I smiled.

“Every young woman needs a dinner alone with the first man to love her, Lauren.” I said, calming whatever fears she may have harbored. “And I plan on having a nice quiet dinner and a long hot-”

“No baths without me here,” Ike reminded me and I sighed. “Please?”

“Fine, a nice quiet dinner and I’ll disappear into a book.” Amended, I could see that he was appeased. “Now, as for today-”

We talked about Ike’s schedule, Lauren’s plans for a day of leisure, and I decided to have a salon day. When Lauren heard, she looked at me with such yearning that I giggled and invited her along. A girls’ day followed by a father/daughter dinner seemed like a perfect sort of day to me.

#ike evans x ofc #magic city #sy berman's granddaughter #ben diamond's daughter #alternative universe

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sarkastically · 7 years ago

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prompt 16 and spiritassassin please!

(Modern Spiritassassin AU. Cloyingly sentimental. I’m so sorry for all the fluff. Vague, generalized background homophobia but nothing explicit.)

16. Roses are red, Violets are blue, You can do whatever you want to me. (please do.)

It starts as a joke. It starts because Jyn, in her flat direct Jyn way, asks a simple question, “Do you guys have anything planned for Valentine’s Day?” It means nothing. It is just idle chitchat from her lips, a random question that has more to do with a date on the calendar than anything else. This is Jyn. Who does not pry because she does not really know what to do with personal information anyway, certainly doesn’t want it. No, Jyn would rather someone ask her for help fixing their car than ask her for help with a personal crisis. Jyn does not want to see tears. Jyn does not want to know about the disquietude that sometimes haunts people alone at night when the darkness makes the inside of the soul rattle and shake like a tree limb against a window pane in fall when the wind is high.

Jyn doesn’t want to know because hearing about other people makes her examine the broken pieces inside of herself, and that has never been her goal. Don’t linger. Don’t stick. Move on. Shove it aside. Move on. Lock it up. Lock it away. Go to the next thing, next name, next job, next apartment, next town. Never settle anywhere for long.

Except that she has been here for nine months, two weeks and five days already and not one fiber of her body is demanding that she leave yet. In another town, with other people, this would be disquieting, it would bother her. As it is, though, she feels something she has not felt in a very long time. She feels calm. It’s not happiness, but that’s fine. Jyn doesn’t think she would know that even if it came to her door with a sign around it’s neck to proclaim its name, blasting some obnoxious song through the speakers of a boombox, swearing undying love; she would probably just close the door in its face to drown out all the noise. This is contentment, and it’s okay. It’s fine. It calms her when she wakes in the middle of the night feeling like there’s a hand at her throat and the desire to pack in her bones. She just breaths, the way Chirrut taught her, and it settles, she can sleep.

It’s fucking weird, but it’s not unpleasant.

She learns to make chitchat the way other people do. She asks about holiday plans the way other people do. People with ties, people with friends, people who finally allow themselves to care. This is part of the process of integrating into a group, after all.

And Baze, who recognizes this for what it is, a hand held out, a first grasping attempt at normal everyday friendships cannot deny her because that might send her hurtling through the night without so much as a goodbye, beating her steady way onward on her broken bird wings. So even though he really doesn’t want to get into it, doesn’t like sharing, as content with being quiet and working on physical things as Jyn herself normally is, he decides that he will answer. Only because it is important; only because it is Jyn.

Later, when they are home curled around each other on the couch while Chirrut reads with his fingers and hums and Baze sketches, he knows that Chirrut will grin and tease him about this, claim that Baze is just as big of a softie as ever, that he bends over backwards for the kids he hires to work at the bakery, that he isn’t fooling anyone with his gruff bear routine. And Baze will just grumble, like said gruff bear, and pull Chirrut into his lap to hush his mouth with kisses because that is the best and normally only way to win an argument with his partner. Chirrut, of course, is right, but Baze is loathe to admit it, which they both know, though it never stops him from trying to wrangle it out of him one way or another.

Jyn clears her throat pointedly even as her hands flash through the process of cutting the large mound of beige dough into small sections waiting to be shaped. Neither Baze nor Jyn work the counter; they exist in the press of hot air filled with yeast and sugar and flour behind the kitchen door. They wander around the machinery, old and loud but much loved, each and every one of the pieces as liable to break as to work, but it’s okay because between the two of them they have found that they can fix anything. Jyn coaxes metal gears back into grinding away by first shouting profanities at them and then plying them with sweet words while Baze can completely strip out and rebuild the stand mixer’s inner workings in a few hours. Things break but nothing ever breaks for long or forever.

Baze sighs, dipping a spoon into the buttercream to taste, asses the texture and the flavor. He starts with base recipes but never follows them, tosses them aside to play the mad scientist–Chirrut’s words, always said in a sing song tone and with that bright tooth smile on his face that means he is proud, full of it, ready to burst with it like a balloon inflated too much–and adjusts things on the fly, makes one of a kind creations that will never been seen again. It’s why their bakery is so popular, especially with the younger crowd who post and tweet and hashtag them. Baze tries to be gruff and grumble about it all, but he can’t find it in him. He loves watching them flock to the store with their brightly colored hair and piercings, lines of ink dotting their skin, dressed in their ever-changing fashions, preening for each other and themselves, sometimes just so dismissive of the lingering, withering looks angled their way by the older self-proclaimed sensible customers. Chirrut whispers that half of it is because Baze sees himself in these children, finds the streak of their own rebellion waving at him from perfectly shaped undercuts, a welcoming hello in every Pride flag shirt or piece of jewelry, every anarchy tattoo, every blue mohawk, and half because Baze has always been soft at the edges when it comes to children, always wanted to protect them.

Always wanted them.

And, even though he led himself there, that revelation will make Chirrut sigh sadly and wander away for his meditation, all crossed legs and closed eyes and murmurs that Baze can hear and feel in every inch of their shop when he presses his hands against something or when he toes his shoes off to stand barefoot on the floor, which is a bad practice in the kitchen but still something he indulges in occasionally. Chirrut has always filled every space that he enters, sinks into the very bones of buildings as though he is some sort of spirit, miring himself into wood and metal, leaving pieces of himself behind in everything without ever diminishing himself. It is just another wondrous trick he can do.

They never talk about adoption anymore because it only upsets both of them; Chirrut more than him because Chirrut thinks it is his fault because of his blindness as much as because they are two gay Chinese men living in a college town that is still slightly on the backwards side, running a bakery that is popular with one portion of the population and is boycotted by another faction of the town who only sees them as having some sort of agenda.

Baze’s only agenda is to make delicious things and through that to make people happy, especially Chirrut. Chirrut’s agenda is to protect Baze’s heart from the arrows and the stones thrown by the very people he tries to please. Sometimes both of them fail all day. So they pick back up and try again on the next.

And sometimes, when it is very bad, Baze wonders why they don’t leave. Then the door will chime, and he will hear the voices of the students, the ones that he knows, the ones that come every single day, and he will remember. Brightly colored hair, tattoos, leather jackets with patches about NASA and peace and love being stronger than hate. Hope. Hope will cross the threshold, and it is enough to sustain him. Again. Probably always.

No, they have no children of their own, but they have the small clutch of young people that Baze hires and inevitably cares for, takes under his wing, gets strangely dad-like about. Chirrut does as well, though he hides it better, carries it in the sleeves of his robes, tucked up inside them as though nestled into pockets, only taken out when they have need of him. Like how he taught Jyn to meditate because she was a vibrating wire about to snap at every instant or how he has been working with Bodhi who still stutters and get flustered when there are too many people in the shop, the clamor becoming too much for him sometimes. They have each other to care for, and this long line of students, workers and patrons alike.

It is enough.

Just Chirrut would be enough, which is something that Baze whispers in the dark sometimes when he goes upstairs to find Chirrut hunkered, praying, all the lights out, their apartment so quiet and still that Baze wonders whether he has walked into another world altogether. Until Chirrut smiles at him, and every light in the universe shines. Just for him.

Jyn makes the noise that means she thinks she is being dismissed or ignored and the shuck of metal through dough grows louder as she works. It rouses Baze from his thoughts, which can be a long tunnel he gets lost in, a deep ocean where he can linger forever. He shakes his head and puts the tasting spoon aside, adds slightly more lemon juice and powdered sugar and bright pieces of crystallized ginger to the buttercream, talks as he folds the ingredients in to achieve the perfect consistency. “Valentine’s is busy. There are always custom orders and demands for cakes and cookies and things.” Too much time needing to be spent to make the day wonderful for everyone else.

“So. Nothing then?” There is something in her voice now, something beyond her normally flat affect, which unnerves some people but never bothers Baze, that flashes like a hidden knife in the gleam of the sun. And then it passes. “It’s just some stupid commercial holiday anyway.” With that Jyn begins to shape the bread loaves, one after the other, quickly but with care because Jyn often comes off as a raincloud about to burst but there is sunlight within, unsure of how exactly to escape.

They settle back into the companionable silence of the kitchen, which is never actually quiet because the machines run and tick around them, but all of that becomes background noise after a while, a wall of comforting, known sound like a heavy blanket to soothe the senses. As Baze frosts the cupcakes with the buttercream, he wonders. They have never done anything to mark Valentine’s Day, and he cannot remember why, cannot recall whether this was intentional or just something that happened. It has never meant much to him. Baze takes care to ensure that Chirrut knows the depth of his affection each and every single day. The idea of just one day to mark that idea is odd, too simple, an easy out. When he was younger, he might have chalked this up to their brand of being anti-establishment, but he is older now, more sentimental as Chirrut likes to tease him, and he wonders.

When he slips out of the kitchen door, a quick excuse thrown over his shoulder at Jyn, she only smiles at him as if she knows, as if this has all been a ploy, some plot, and he wouldn’t put it past her and Chirrut to be in cahoots over something, but Baze cannot allow himself to linger on that or it will eclipse his forward momentum and mire him back in the kitchen. Baze is not Chirrut; he does not shift gears as quickly, and he must let his impetus carry him while it exists or find himself stranded, unable to move, stuck.

A week later, he presents the gift. The first Valentine’s Day gift he has ever given Chirrut. It is just a bear. Nothing fancy. No flowers or chocolates or jewelry because their life has always been simple, and Chirrut loves the confections he makes more than any commercial chocolate available. It is just a bear, but it talks when its belly is pressed, in Baze’s voice, in Baze’s deep, wandering river, earth moving Mandarin because it is just for them, after all. It says something silly that Chirrut once found on the internet and laughed about for three hours, which Baze remembers because he loves to hear Chirrut like that, voice breaking from being out of breath because of glee for such an extended period of time.

“Roses are red, violets are blue. You can do whatever you want to me. Please do,” the bear intones in Mandarin when Chirrut plucks it from Baze’s hands.

Baze had blushed the entire time while trying to record it even though the employee at the store obviously had no idea what was happening, what he was saying, but she was kind enough and patient enough to help him make the attempt six times before it was right, before his voice did not waver in an unwelcome way. He can only look down while his listens to the mechanical play of his voice from the bear, but he can feel Chirrut’s smile through the floor, leeching into the boards and travelling through the grain to his bare feet.

“Anything?” Chirrut asks, his Mandarin always cleaner and crisper than Baze’s own, clear indications of their upbringings that only they know how to parse in this town, and that is when Baze allows himself to look up, to find his partner’s eyes, veiled and turned just a hair away from where he stands but close enough because Chirrut is very good at this by now.

“Yes,” Baze answers, mind spinning through all the things that Chirrut might ask of him, each of them dear and wonderful and welcome. He is on the verge of apologizing for the silly gift, for its sentimentality, for caving to societal capitalistic pressure; Chirrut’s smile stops him, it speaks of something else, and he wonders again whether Jyn’s question was not just idle talk at all, whether it was part of something bigger.

He gets his answer when Chirrut, bear tucked lovingly under one arm, starts fishing through his pockets until he finds a small wooden box, which he holds out in Baze’s general direction. “This. This is what I want.”

Baze recognizes the box, knows what lingers inside, a titanium band with rose gold running through the middle like a river. He has seen it before, and he told Chirrut to wait because he was worried about the world around them, concerned about political climate and family and. He hurt Chirrut’s feelings, soundly enough that he worried it might break them asunder, though it didn’t. He hasn’t seen the box since. And now there it is, on Chirrut’s palm, presented back to him, and Baze agreed to anything. Baze has never been a man who backs out of promises.

“Baze,” Chirrut’s voice is strong as steel, but Baze can hear the way it wavers, the slight dip of concern that dances across his tongue because it tickles the soles of his feet through the floor. “Will you marry me?”

When Chirrut had asked the first time, both of them barely older than twenty-five, Baze’s heart and throat had clenched so hard that he thought he might die from the fear. There is none of that now. There is just the light of Chirrut’s smile invading his entire body, and the calmness he feels surrounded by the kitchen machine noises. There is the smell of ginger and yeast that permeates the entire building always like Chirrut’s mantras, which he thinks have soaked into the walls such that they would play back like a record if he rubbed his hand over them. Nothing here scares him, nothing here worries him not even the looks they sometimes get on the street, the disdainful ones. They are so few these days.

Baze closes the distance between them, hand folding over the box and Chirrut’s fingers in the same grasp even as his other arm wraps around him, pulls him snugly against him, pulls him into a kiss that is just as ardent as any they shared when they were young and could barely contain their desire for one another. Kissing Chirrut is always like this, like a match being struck throughout his entire body. When he pulls away, his breathing is ragged like he has been running.

“You haven’t answered me.”

“Did you entice Jyn into helping you?”

“You haven’t answered me.”

“You haven’t either.”

“I asked first.”

Their back and forth is nothing new, all the words soaking into the building around them, and Baze hopes that structures carry on the light and souls of the people who lived inside them once they are gone because he needs to know that pieces of Chirrut will continue to be bright and infuriating even when he can no longer be that himself. He wants to think that there will be a patch of earth wherein he and Chirrut’s loving bickering continues forever, a recording to ease or haunt the next people who claim it as their own.

They answer in unison because their hearts have always beat together, “Yes.”

#spiritassassin #modern spiritassassin #Anonymous #sara's fic #sara's drabbles #otp: i don't need luck #otp: i am one with the Force #otp: i protected you

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