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soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years ago

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The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo

It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.

You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.

Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)

Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!

Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB

You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.

The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.

*beginning of flashback*

"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.

"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"

"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.

He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.

"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.

*end of flashback*

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.

You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.

You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.

"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

"Good news?" you asked him.

"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.

"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.

"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."

"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.

"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.

"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.

"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.

"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.

"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!

"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.

"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.

You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.

"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.

"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.

"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.

You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.

"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.

"I'll never understand how you drink that"

"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"

"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.

"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.

"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.

"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.

"It's true, though"

"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.

"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"

"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.

"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.

"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.

"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.

"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.

"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.

"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.

"Tomorrow?" you asked her.

"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.

"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.

"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"

"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.

"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.

"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.

"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.

"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.

"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.

"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.

"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.

"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.

"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.

"Burn!" Daniel laughed.

"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.

"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.

"Perfect!" she beamed.

>>> end of part 1 <<<

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #Daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

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Body Shots (Pierre Gasly)

Inspired by (and beta read) by the amazing @limp-wrist-max thank you Mea!

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Recommended song: “Lucky You” by Sim Dane

Vacationing in Milan had its perks. Fine dining, luxury stores that were prime for window shopping, and the proximity to your best friend, to name a few.

When you'd touched down in Milan you had had no intentions of visiting Pierre. You had just finished your exams for your summer class and had a week before the next semester started up, so you had simply booked the cheapest ticket and boarded a plane.

The intent had been to have some good wine, good food and unwind. Pierre saw your Instagram story minutes after you posted it and recognized the bakery you stopped at for lunch. And once he found out you were only a few minutes away from that weekend's grand prix, he had ideas that didn't involve you reading a novel all day.

Pierre had insisted that a last minute cancelation by a family friend had left a paddock pass unclaimed and had suggested you take it.

"You're my best friend, it'll be fun to have you experience a weekend through my eyes for once instead of sitting in the stands. Come visit me."

Something in the inflection of his voice made the simple request rub you raw. He missed you. It had been months since your last get together and you couldn't blame him. The last year had been rough for him and he rarely had anyone physically at his side to help him through it.

Inviting you instead of one of his parents was about more than your current proximity to the track. He hadn't missed a beat in asking you, not hesitating to consider anyone else being with him this weekend.

Your stomach had turned as you climbed in a cab Sunday morning, not out of fear of something going wrong but because of the nagging feeling that something was about to change.

You'd known Pierre since you were kids. Your brother had raced in karting before pursuing another dream, but in the few short years you'd hung around European tracks you had managed to forge a bond with one of your brother's rivals. That friendship carried on regardless of the distance that separated you, kept alive by visits in the off season and once a year trips to the racetrack at Silverstone.

Pierre met you at the gates and you had barely seen him since.

A decent qualifying session saw the Frenchman start P10 on Sunday's race. He didn't hide the fact that he was disappointed, but come time for his final meeting with the team you'd never guess he was anything but ecstatic.

You had to be conscious about your mouth hanging open when Pierre stepped into the garage in his fireproofs with his suit half undone. The tuft of blond hair peeking through his backwards cap floats on an invisible breeze and he bounces on his toes. His brow furrows when he is handed a data sheet, listening intently to what the engineer points out.

Butterflies riot in your stomach when Pierre catches you staring and winks. You pray he writes the blush on your cheeks off as the heat and he must, because he raises his eyebrows and flexes a bit.

You laugh to cover the way you want to do nothing but strip him out of that tight fitted white shirt. Your crush was getting out of hand. Pierre's shameless, friendly flirting only escalated matters.

You told yourself it was nothing. He was like this with every girl he met, making a fool of himself to earn a laugh. You were no different, except maybe that you were a constant where most other women only got to enjoy his playful personality for a short time.

You're treated to a few long minutes of watching Pierre prep to climb into the car before he's heading out on track to line up at the grid.

The race starts off fine, Pierre's pace is better than expected. One of the Haas's breaks down at the pit entry and Pierre's strategist decides to bring him in for a fresh set of tires. A kiss seems like the proper reward for their stroke of brilliance, which affords Pierre the advantage when the pits close soon after.

Restarting on lap 28 is nail biting. Hamilton, Stroll, and Pierre make up the podium places. The entire garage gasps when Stroll goes wide at turn four. Hamilton serves his penalty and Pierre inherits the lead. Sainz jumps on the opportunity to attack.

Pierre defends brilliantly until the final lap. The team erupts when he crosses the line first, bringing home the win.

Red, white and green confetti sticks to his skin as he sprays the champagne over all of you. In the heat of it all, Pierre sits on that top step and shakes his head. You already know that the photos of him being snapped from all angles will be gorgeous, the sun shining down on the first French grand prix winner in decades.

A legend in the minds of his people and in yours.

You could scarcely believe it yourself. Your best friend had finally, after years of being pushed down, won a grand prix at the temple of speed. Red Bull had been wrong, just as you'd insisted when Pierre cried over losing his seat and his friend in one weekend. But god, did Pierre rise above it all.

Pierre catches your gaze just before he leaves the podium. A lifetime of emotion swirls around him like an enigma, begging you to find out what it was hiding. Your wave is barely more than a lift of your hand but Pierre notes it nonetheless, tipping his trophy in your direction.

You wait patiently on the sidelines as Pierre poses for pictures with his team on and off the track. His attention constantly falls on you, his grin widening each time he sees you tucked under the arm of an enthusiastic mechanic or crew member. Alpha Tauri was a family and you were an honorary member thanks to your connection to their driver.

An action packed hour of cameras passes before Pierre is able to break away. As soon as he's given the go ahead he passes his trophy off and marching to you. You're both practically running by the time you meet in the middle. You crash into him and he lifts you off your feet in a crushing hug.

"You did it," you whisper, overwhelmed by his success now that you've gotten the chance to celebrate with him. "I'm so proud of you."

Pierre laughs as he sets you on your feet. His smile is wider than you've ever seen it and you're sure his cheeks must be sore.

"Wish they allowed us to bring a friend up there," Pierre says softly, a smile melting into a sly smirk. "Seeing you doused in champagne is an image I wouldn't forget."

You shake your head, caught up in his ceaseless flirting. He had no idea that his honeyed words and gentle touches lit something inside of you, rattling your brain and making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Instead you snatch the black and gold Pirelli cap off his head and place it on your own, earning you a peal of laughter.

"Looks better on you anyway." Pierre runs a hand through his sweaty, champagne doused hair, leaving bits sticking up at odd angles.

Someone calls Pierre's name, far enough away that there's no rush. Pierre's hands remain planted on your waist and yours stay wrapped around his neck. By the way his bright blue eyes bore into yours, you swear he's thinking the same thing you are.

"Thank you for believing in me," he murmurs, gaze falling to your lips.

"I knew it was just a matter of time," you tell him, inching up on your tiptoes. Tempted by his win, you want to ruin the best friendship you've ever had. You want to discover if the lips you spend far too much time dreaming about felt as soft as they looked. You want to know how it feels to be lost in Pierre, newly minted race winner, and find out just how he dealt with the adrenaline and euphoria of his incredible drive.

"Well done mate!"

Max Verstappen startles the two of you apart. You take a healthy step back and drop your gaze to the ground to hide your burning cheeks.

"Thanks." Pierre accepts the Dutchman's embrace and claps him on the back. "Sucks I didn't get to fight you for it."

"There will be more chances in the future. And I didn't expect to see you here, that's a nice surprise." Max knocks you with his shoulder, tipping you off balance. On instinct you latch onto Pierre's arm to steady yourself. You wait a heartbeat too long to remove your hand and both of you find anywhere to look but each other.

"So where's the party?" You ask, searching for a distraction from the way your palm still burns.

"Definitely not at Red Bull." Max shudders and you laugh because that's what you do when someone is being over dramatic. It rings hollow in your ears.

"I hear there's a few guys with adjoining rooms at the hotel who bought plenty of booze," Pierre says. "You and Dan wanna come by?"

"Is that really a question?" Max grins, already typing out a text as Pierre feeds him the details.

**********

"You should do body shots," Max suggests, which earns a roaring laugh from Daniel and a half hearted one from Pierre.

"I don't think so," Pierre says, "there's no one here I trust enough to let that happen."

"Not even your best friend?" Max gestures to you and shoots you a wink when Pierre glances over. "I think she's trustworthy."

"No thanks." Pierre holds up his plastic cup and salutes Max before draining it to the dregs.

Pierre's immediate refusal hurt more than it probably should have. You hadn't expected him to jump at the offer but having him shut the idea down so thoroughly hadn't been what you wanted either.

Max notes your pouty lower lip and speaks on your behalf. "Come on mate," Max insists. "You just won your first prix, live a little! It's not like you've got anything to lose, she's your best friend."

"That's exactly why-"

"Shut up, it would be fun! Wouldn't it?" Max says this last bit to you, a wild grin on his face.

Max expects you to turn red and object. That was his end goal. But what the Dutchman hadn't counted on was how drunk you already were on Pierre. On his smile. On his bright blue eyes, swirling in the aftermath of his unlikely triumph. And mostly on the not-so-sneaky way he glances at you every few minutes.

"Let's do it."

Pierre blinks, searching your face for any sign of distress. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" You shrug, suddenly fearing that you'd read him wrong and he really was against this whole thing. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Get the vodka," Pierre interrupts, nodding to Max though his stare remains pinned on you. Pierre latches onto your wrist and drags you around the room until he finds a table long and sturdy enough for his liking.

"This a good height for you?"

The coffee table is low enough that you'd have to kneel. Luckily getting on your knees isn't something you'd mind doing for Pierre. You lick your lips without thinking. Pierre's pupils blow wide, black swallowing the swirling oceans of blue.

"Sure," is all you manage.

"Good." Apparently neither of you were able to focus on speech. You work together to clear the empty plastic cups and used napkins from the surface. Your hands brush when you both reach for the last cup and you just catch the way Pierre's breath hitches.

You and Pierre have danced this dance since you were teenagers. Each of you knows the steps by heart. The only difference is tonight neither of you were poised to bow out before the final lift.

"Beep beep, bitches!" You yank your hand away when Max's shout reaches you. Pierre's hand lingers in front of him, outstretched as if your palm remained grazing his thumb.

Max holds the bottle of vodka over his head as he wades through the crowd. "You're all about to be very, very entertained."

"Where's your chaperone?" You ask Max, searching for Daniel in the low lighting. You press your palm to your thigh, dissipating Pierre's lingering heat.

The Dutchman waves you off. "Went to get us more drinks. Pierre, isn't it kinda hard to do body shots if you're still fully clothed?"

"Who says I'm the one getting undressed?"

Max's grin dimples his flushed cheeks. "I mean you can ask her to take her shirt off in front of all these people if you want to."

"No," Pierre responds quickly. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Pierre strips off his shirt he gets more than a few whistles from men and women alike. That tended to happen when someone was built like a Greek fucking god, you supposed. Whoever voted for People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" and decided on Michael B. Jordan had clearly never laid eyes on Pierre, with his bronzed skin, endless expanses of muscle, and brilliant cheshire grin.

Michael B. Jordan who?

Pierre hands the team branded shirt off and lays out on the table. He pillows an arm under his head, bare bicep flexed as he gets comfortable. Leaning in to kiss along the hard muscle was out of the question, however tempting it was.

Pierre looks up expectantly. "You coming?"

Holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You sink to your knees and Pierre laughs.

"Up here." He pats his thigh with his free hand and beacons you forward. "Please."

Screw it, you've already thrown your friendship out the window. This night ended either in heartbreak or awkwardness, might as well get your money's worth.

A few whoops break out above the music. The bassline isn't the only thing thundering in your chest as you straddle Pierre's thighs, hands braced on his chest.

"Okay?" Pierre whispers for your ears only. You nod with what you hope is a charming smile.

"Alright move," Max says, shooing you back until you're resting on your haunches. Max flicks the cap off the bottle and you grab it to take a long sip.

Max gapes at you and you wipe a hand over your mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

Pierre's thighs tense beneath you in response to your bold declaration. Dozens of Pierre's friends and team members gather around. For all you care, Pierre is the only person in the room.

"Last chance to back out," Max warns. You're too busy tracking the drop of liquid that falls from the neck of the bottle to splash onto the crease of Pierre's abs to bother responding.

"Pour it out." Pierre's chest sinks with his demand, doing nothing but sparking your imagination, creating images of him heaving beneath you. You'd sell your soul to recreate the way you're currently poised above Pierre's hips with a little less clothing and no audience.

Max gives up hope on you replying and dribbles the alcohol up Pierre's abdomen, stopping just below his pecks.

"Have at 'er-"

Your tongue is on Pierre's skin before Max has finished his sentence. You feel the muscle tense beneath your tongue, going rigid at the first contact. The burn of the vodka doesn't even register as you lap it up, catching the drips that fall over his sides.

You aren't sure either of you is breathing. Salty sweat mingles with the sharpness of the alcohol, an afterthought barely worth mentioning.

Blame the liquid courage or blame the high from Pierre's win, but you were confident Pierre was enjoying this just as much as you.

Planting a hand on Pierre's hip, you steal a glance up at him to find him locked on you. You take that as permission to continue, dragging your tongue flat up his stomach and continuing well past where the vodka had been poured. Up between his pecks, over the curve of his throat that bobs beneath your tongue, over his chin until you meet his lips, already parted and waiting.

Neither of you pay the shouts cresting around you any heed. You've both waited too long for this, endured too many almosts and what ifs to let the opportunity slip through your fingers. Your sticky hands cradle Pierre's face, angling it in a way that's to your liking so you can explore more of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and mint, the juxtaposition of hot and cold scattering your thoughts. One of Pierre's hands finds the nape of your neck when you gasp for air, refusing to let you end the moment.

And it's pure, unending bliss that floods your veins when he nips at your lower lip, swollen and surely reddened from his kiss. His thumb sweeps across the back of your neck while you both fight to catch the breath currently evading you.

Daydreams didn't hold a candle to the real thing. One taste and you were addicted, craving as much as Pierre was willing to give.

"Hey," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a stupidly gorgeous smile.

"That was nice," you tease, tangling your fingers in the silky blond strands of his hair. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again."

"Me too. Maybe somewhere where it's just us though. I wouldn't want to scandalize my team any further." You manage to steal another sweet peck before Max hauls you off Pierre.

"Fucking finally," Daniel says, clapping when you're upright again. "Do you know how long I've been trying to orchestrate this? The two of you really are dumber than a box of rocks. I can't believe all it took was Max suggesting body shots to get you two to kiss."

The arm that wraps around your waist feels right. Pierre hasn't hugged you like this before, with his chin resting on your shoulder and his nose nuzzling your neck, but it already feels like home.

Pierre ignores Max completely in favor of pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. "Why don't we go back to my room? I'll pour more alcohol on myself if that's what it takes to convince you."

You're just about to take him up on the offer when one of his team members taps his shoulder. He glances at them impatiently, which the man thankfully doesn't take personally.

"They want some photos with you holding your trophy," he explains, handing a shirt and the star shaped interpretation of the Italian flag to Pierre. "It will only take a few minutes, they promised not to keep you long."

Of course everyone knew exactly where your minds were. Sanity had long since left the premises, tangled up in crisp white sheets. Pierre's entire team and half the Red Bull garage had seen what had gone down while the prix winner was sprawled on that coffee table. There would be no chance of denying it in the morning.

And while you'd never imagined that the first time you'd kiss your best friend would be directly preceded by licking copious amounts of shitty liquor off his super-heated skin, now that you'd experienced it any other way seems forgettable.

Pierre sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, I already have my trophy, but…" your stomach lurches when you realize he means you. Pierre catches the way your mouth hangs open and he shoots you a grin before accepting the real trophy.

"You carry it," he says, not giving you much of a choice as he thrusts it into your hands. "I'm occupied."

You're about to point out that his hands are, in fact, free and that the more likely reason for insisting you carry the trophy was his usual post-race laziness when he slings an arm around your shoulders and tucks you tight to his side.

"Is this okay?" Pierre asks when you involuntarily stiffen. God, it was more than okay, it was perfect, it had just caught you by surprise. You'd only kissed him a handful of minutes ago and Pierre was already wrapped around your finger, smitten as if you'd been a couple for years.

"Yeah no, it's perfect. Simply lovely," you say quickly, stumbling over your words.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Your answer comes in the form of a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You prop the trophy on your hip and smile up at your race winner.

"You don't have to ask that ever again. My answer is always yes."

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annaofthenorthernlights · 3 years ago

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Cruising beyond sunrise

This is my fanfic-contribution to the Frozen Fanzine Volume 5: Summer lovin - organised by @frozines! Hope you enjoy - happy frozine everyone ❤️

Pairing: Kristanna, modern AU setting

Rating: G

Summary: Anna and Kristoff set out for their individual summer jobs on a cruising ship along Norway´s coastline. Meeting "accidently" on the way to Hamburg´s harbour, the journey spins off "kristanna-slow burn-style..."

Chapter 1 / 4 (find the complete fic on AO3)

Somewhere in Southern Germany

For Anna, the invitation for this summer job came right in time. All her family would not be there during those long following weeks. Her parents were abroad on business reason, and Elsa had decided to join the summer camp of the philharmonic orchestra. She was a fabulous harp player after all. But then, Anna felt lonely. After breaking up with that unfaithful brat of a boyfriend… It had already been so many weeks since the disastrous night, where she had walked right in the middle of things, with him being served in the most intimate ways by his secretary… Yack! Anna´s eyes still filled with tears of fury and disappointment when the scenery flashed back before her inner eye.

Her suitcase was finally packed, and all her music devices sorted and stored neatly within her luggage. Anna was ready to depart and embark on the summer trip of her life! If only she wouldn´t feel so lonely… Ah, well, soon she would be surrounded by lots of people and fun programs. She was ready to go!

Somewhere else in Southern Germany

Normally, Kristoff would not travel inland by plane. But the ticket was paid by the shipping company, and he was kind of short on time. So, he would accept the offer and was on his way to Munich airport. He had mastered his finals and until starting his new job, he could just as well earn some money with this summer occupation. It might be a good start off into his career. Still, being surrounded by numerous people all day long, that was not his vision of a quiet and peaceful summer. With a sigh, he stuffed the ticket in his travel bag.

His suitcase was packed, and all his literature supply sorted neatly within his luggage. Kristoff was ready to risk the wave of vacation feeling washing over him.

***

The flight from Munich to Hamburg would take approx. 1 hour. Already they were delayed due to rain and maintenances still going on. Kristoff tried to relax in his seat, but then this size of airplane was not built for big guys like him. He tried to stretch and stretch his legs into the aisle without hindering the still boarding passengers. He desperately hoped they would take off soon, so he could leave this cocoon like cage after their landing. So, he flicked through the plane magazine to distract himself, when he noticed a person stopping just by his side. The woman was about to store her bag just atop of his head. She was small, tiptoed to the upmost maximum and stretched to the extent that Kristoff thought she was about to do pull-ups while dangling at the storage box. Some sort of moaning and sighing noises came to his ears, but nobody seemed obliged to help the tiny lady.

“You need help up there?” he asked, peering up from his seat.

“Huh?” the young woman glanced down between her arms and smiled at him. “That´s very kind of you, thanks, but I manage.” She then somehow shrank back to her normal size and stood there, with a shy grin and pulled up shoulders.

“I´m sorry, but may I…?” She pointed to the window seat.

“Oh, yes, sorry.” Kristoff made some efforts to peel himself out of his seat. For some reason, he seemed stuck. This was ridiculous and he swore under his breath, in his mind strangling the architect of this seating construction.

“Oh, you know what? Don´t bother yourself. Just hang on.” And with that, before Kristoff realised what was happening, the young lady started to climb over his legs, holding on with one hand to the backrest of his seat and with the other to the seat in front of them. Within a jiffy she´d swung herself with ease into the seat next to him and wriggled herself into a cosy position. Of course, she was small and delicate of figure. She could move in here like a little fish in the water. For a short moment, Kristoff envied the small person next to him. But then, excuse me, how rude was her behaviour. He couldn´t help to clear his throat and then stare back at his magazine. What else was there to do?

“Oh no!” The girl exclaimed.

“You´re alright?” Kristoff asked vaguely, glancing over briefly.

“I left my mobile up in my bag, and I thought of listening to some music.” She gnawed on her lips and was about to get up.

“Would you mind? I´m so sorry. But you don´t need to bother yourself again. I can just as well…”

“No. No. That´s totally fine, really!” Kristoff pushed himself out of his seat as fast as he could before someone could climb over him again for the second time within two minutes…

“Oh thanks! That´s so kind!”

After the energetic neighbour had plumped herself back into her window seat, Kristoff turned his attention to his book that he had fished out of his bag before sitting back again.

After the plane had taken off, the flight continued in a peaceful manner, for the girl had plugged her earpads and was listening to music all the time. Only the snack break would stop her from napping with little snores or then happily humming along to the songs. According to the tunes that emerged from her lips, she had to be listening to ABBA.

It was hard concentrating that way, but after a while Kristoff got used to it and for some reason the humming didn´t bother him as much anymore.

And when the plane finally landed, he was off as fast as possible to escape that tiny place and the crowd of people that were all around him.

***

Anna stood at the docks in awe. She had never been on a ship like this one or seen anything like it from close up. Excitement filled her and the thought of being part of this adventure for the next two weeks. The change of tapestry would do her good, she was sure. Since that dreadful time of new year, Anna hadn´t been able to go anywhere or participate in any activity really. The shock of catching Hans, cheating on her in such a horrifying way, had kept her ensnared for weeks. Her family hadn´t been of much help. Of course, they´d been helpless as well. In their ways, leaving her alone, for a good reason, Anna understood them. Finally, she had found relief and regained her composure by repeatedly talking to her aunt Gerda, who had shown her so much appreciative value and heart-care!

“Hi there. Are you alright?”

The friendly voice next to her interrupted her thoughts. Anna turned to face a lovely woman with big almond shaped eyes and ebony skin. Her hair was an impressive bunch of black, neatly combed into a braid that fell all down over her chest.

“Oh, hi. I´m sorry. I´ve never been on a ship like this and had to take a long look first.”

“Yes. It´s quite impressive, isn´t it. By the way, I´m Honeymaren.”

“Oh, I´m Anna. Nice to meet you. Are you going to work here, too?”

“Yes, I´m the 1st hostess and here to help if you have any questions. So, what are you going to do aboard?”

“Me? Oh, I´m here as a fitness instructress.”

“Ah. That is fantastic. Welcome aboard Arendelle lights! Come on, I will show you around and sign you in, alright?”

Anna was so grateful to have met Honeymaren. First, she seemed so kind and then, Anna would have a safe contact in case of an emergency on her behalf. She was about to get a bit nervous, though. If only she would not mess this up and make a fairly good job here!

Her cabin was alongside the other staff lodges, and she loved it. It was cosy, furnished and the bullseye-window was so cute!

The passengers would check in only the next morning, and for tonight there would be some sort of welcome party for all the ship-staff. Anna was looking forward to this event immensely. She desperately hoped to find some nice people to hang out with for the next two weeks and not being left on her own.

***

“Good evening, Dr. Bjorgman. Welcome aboard Arendelle lights. I hope you´re satisfied with your cabin and all?”

“Yes. Thank you. All fine.”

“That´s great. Have you met the captain yet?”

“Yes, I have. Thank you.”

“Wonderful. Well anyway. Enjoy your stay aboard and if you need anything or have any requests, don´t hesitate to contact me. Alright?”

“Yes. Thank you. As a matter of fact, that might well be the case since this is my first cruising tour you know.”

“Ah. Don´t worry. You´re not alone there. Our fitness instructress is new to this , too. You two might just as well stick together then?” Honeymaren smiled and winked sheepishly.

Dr. Bjorgman didn´t get it but was wondering how long he was supposed to endure this event, when the hostess put a hand onto his arm and waved with the other.

“Oh. There she is. Just hang on a second, I´ll introduce you. Hey Anna! Over here!”

Kristoff followed Honeymaren´s gestures and spotted an auburn-haired girl, who waved back into their direction excitingly. The humming girl! She hurried towards them, stopping abruptly upon seeing him. Her eyes widened and she pressed her lips together, pulling up her shoulders while stepping up to them.

“Hi there!” Anna lifted a shy hand to greet them both, constantly looking back and forth between Honeymaren and the man standing next to her.

“Hi Anna. May I introduce? This is Dr. Bjorgman. Dr. Bjorgman, this is Anna, our fitness instructress. You two might have business to talk?” With that, Honeymaren left them to themselves, she was needed somewhere else.

Silence.

“So, I hear this is your first cruising trip, too?” Kristoff asked awkwardly. Meeting the sportive lady again had not been on his mind to be honest.

“Yes, indeed. Goodness… Had I known.” Anna put a hand to her chest and shook her head, obviously embarrassed. “Seriously, I´m so sorry for bothering you on that flight and isn´t it funny, we sat right next to each other? But I was so nervous getting here. I mean excitingly nervous, not nervously nervous, you know?”

Her expression seemed truly apologetical, but friendly and enthusiastic.

No. He would know nothing about the feeling of being excitingly nervous.

“Yeah, sure. Don´t worry.”

They were standing, looking at the people mingling and grabbing drinks from the bar.

“Would you know what we are supposed to do now?” Anna asked uncertainly, gnawing on her lips.

She was nervous after all.He could tell.

“Frankly, I don´t know. For my part, I don´t like such functions. But I guess it´s part of the job.”

“Oh. I love meeting people. I´m just kind of unsure where to start.”

Why not getting her over to that bunch of people and then take a leave?

“We could grab a drink at the bar and join the party?” offered Kristoff with a sigh. Anna nodded feverishly and smiled at him, grateful for his suggestion.

So, when they got to the bar, the barkeeper greeted them with a friendly nod, offering them a “welcome drink”.

“Hellloooo!” A cheering voice sang into their ears from behind and Kristoff and Anna turned to look at a rather little fellow with light hair and big eyes. He grinned broadly and shook their hands enthusiastically.

“Hi! I´m Olaf and I love meeting you all!”

“Oh. How nice! And what are you doing here?” Anna beamed upon meeting someone so refreshing.

Olaf´s face lit up even more at Anna´s remark and he explained, “I´m responsible for the evening entertainment. And youare…?”

“Oh. I´m Anna. I´m the fitness instructress.”

“Aha. That´s lovely. And who is that funny looking grumpy head?” Olaf leaned towards Anna, conspiringly glancing in Kristoff´s direction.

“Oh. That´s… Dr. Bjorgman.” Anna shrugged, unsure of how to address the medical crew member respectfully. But Olaf wasn´t satisfied.

“Gosh, no. That´s too complicated. We are family here!” He waved a hand demandingly at Kristoff. The latter sensed his chances, repressed an amused chuckle, but smirked at the little one.

“It´s Kristoff.”

With that, he waved his goodbyes, wished them a nice evening, and left.

Maybe this wouldn´t be so bad after all. So far, they all seemed to be a friendly bunch of guys. And Anna was safely left in good hands with this Olaf.

This way, Kristoff felt less guilty… If you like to read on... find the complete fic on AO3

#Frozine #frozine volume 5 summer lovin #kristanna #fanfic #modern AU setting #summer jobs #Anna #Kristoff

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ziee · 3 years ago

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Blinky x Reader (18+)

Arcadia. Back once more after the 15 years you've been gone. You were a friend of the Domzalski's, and the un-paid babysitter of their baby son. The day they won the lottery, you cheered in excitement for them. And the day they fell into the sea, you cried for them.

The heartbreak of your 2 best friends struck you so severely, you couldn't stand being in Arcadia any longer. The memories, the high school all 3 of you went to, the restaurant you went to after every celebration. You just couldn't bear it. The last memories of the small town were bidding little Toby and Nana goodbye.

But now, you're back.

Nana had contacted you, saying she needed help with Tobies. Half-blind and all, old and raising a teenager, you could see why. You didn't want to be out of your best friend's childs' life completely at the loss of his parents, so once in a while, you phoned your adoptive nephew. Just checking up on him, seeing how he was.

You had accepted, of course. Slightly jumping at the opportunity and a reason to come back to Arcadia, you called in sick for an indefinite amount of days and packed a suitcase. Filling up your car, you hopped into the driver's seat and started the long drive.

You were kind of thankful that you didn't have to buy a plane ticket, hating planes and airports, but the long, lonely roads brought into account new emotions. This is the first time you're going back to your hometown in 15 years.. You're going to see the high school. And the restaurant. And.. Their house.

The house you saw them buy, build and love. You remember watching them set up a room for the new baby. Deciding the colors, layout, and designs of the wall. You remember getting sloshed in the living room, accidentally breaking one of the photos upon the fireplace. Your kind of glad you did, seeing as you took the photo and hung it in your house.

The photo of the 3 of you.

The days were long in your small car, the best you could afford. Stopping at family dinners and shitty motels to rest. The cycle stopped on day 6, finally reaching the sign with bold letters spelling out, 'Arcadia'.

You picked up your phone and dialed Nana. She picked up after the 3rd time. "Hello dear! Y/n, are you coming soon?" She spoke happily, a bag crunching in the background.

"Hi, Nana. I just got into Arcadia, I'll be there in less than 10 minutes!" You smiled as you heard the old lady scolded one of her many cats.

"Alright dear. See you soon." She ended the call before you could bid farewell. You chuckled and rolled your eyes, setting your phone down into your cup container. You took in a deep breath as you entered the small town.

Driving past the buildings that seem so familiar but have changed so much, you felt an array of emotions. Happy your here. Confused as to why they would change things. Sorrow as you remembered multiple memories in the areas you passed.

Driving into the neighborhood, your car stilled at the infamous yellow house. Their house. You stared at it through your window, looking into their own as light shone from within. You sighed and started your car again.

Eventually, you pulled into Nana's driveway. Strolling up to the doorsteps, you knocked 3 times before waiting. A shuffle, a huff, and then the door opens. You smiled as your eyes suddenly felt teary. "Y/n! Oh dear, come inside, come inside." She urges you inside, holding a foot out to prevent a black cat from escaping.

You enter the warm house, the smell of bread and... Burritos filling the room? You shrug it off as you're ushered to the couch. Sitting down, you let out a heave of relief. You're not sure why. "So, how have you been?" You ask as Nana moves towards the kitchen, presumably to make you some tea.

"Oh, I've been fine. Toby and the cats keep me busy." She laughs as she grabs 4 cups. 4 cups? You could understand that the other 1 would be for Toby, so who was the other one for?

"That's great Nana." You smile, sinking into the soft cushion. Your car was not the worst, but my god the seats were terrible. It felt like nails were digging into your back and ass. Not that good for almost a week's road trip.

"So how are you dear?" She spoke as she took the kettle off the burner as it began to scream.

"Oh I've been better, I mean- WAIT- NANA, LET ME HELP YOU!" You shout, running towards the old lady, taking the opened kettle out of her hands. Unbeknownst to her, she had almost poured boiling water onto her cat.

"Ohoho, your so helpful already." She mumbles, skittering off into the living room. You look down at the tea bags sat in one of the empty cups. Orange Pekoe.. She still knows what kind you like after all these years. Your heart swells as you pour hot water into the cups, your lips rising like a goofball.

Stirring the drinks, 2 of the cups had hot chocolate and the other 2 had tea. You could guess which is which, so you handed Nana a cup while placing your own on the table before grabbing the other 2 mugs.

"I'm gonna bring this to Toby and..?"

"Oh! Toby has a friend over. His international friend, his names Arthur-San." You nodded and headed upstairs. From the top, you could hear loud cheers from inside the room you thought to be Tobies'. You knocked and waited, but you don't think they heard you from the loud volume of a video game.

You sighed and opened the door. Inside, 2 backs were turned to you. One, obviously being Toby and the other.. It was a white sheet. A large, very large in fact, figure was sat beside Toby, wearing a bedsheet. Uh-

"Hey Toby, and Arthur, Nan-" You stopped mid-sentence as the heads turned to you. A large, circle-ish face appeared from the draped sheet. A green, mossy beard decorated its chin, a mouth with 4 long teeth sticking out, and are those- HORNS??

"T-Toby.. Who is that?" You cautiously, and very slowly, set the drinks down onto a nearby dresser.

"Aunt Y/n?! What are you doing here?" Toby gets up and comes near you. You quickly grab onto him, wrapping your arms around him as you run out the door. "Wait- Auntie Y/n, he's a friend!" You turn around and quickly shut the door as you place Toby back down.

"Toby, go get Nana and run!" You scream. He just stands there, sighing. A knock from the inside of the room startles you. "Wingman?" A gruff voice speaks. You shriek as the knob is pulled from your grip, the door opening as the large head sticks out, right in front of you. Its black nose presses against your shoulder, pulling in a long sniff.

"Oh go-" And your fainting. A stone hand stops you mid-fall, preventing you from hitting a hard bottom as your eyes closed.

"I'll call Jim."

You awoke on a soft plush. Feeling around, you realize you're on a bed. "Master Jim, Lady Y/n is awaking." A deep voice calls out, sensing that you knew he was close to you from how loud he was. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to the light of the room. Looking around, it was just a regular room. Including a monster with 6 eyes.

"AHHHH!" You scream, scrambling off the bed. The moment you do so, 2 teenagers including Toby run into the room. You move near Toby, your eyes locked on the monsters.

"Woah! Calm down Miss Y/n, if we can just explain everything-" You cut the boy with twig legs off.

"Oh, you kids better explain as to why there is a- .. A-"

"I believe the word is 'Troll." The blue monster says.

"Yes! That! Why there is a troll with 6 eyes and 4 arms staring at me right now!" You pointed to Toby, "And you! Explain what happened earlier, with that big guy. Right now." You huffed.

"Is she talking about Aaarrrgghh?" The girl with a blue streak in her hair spoke.

"Aaarrgghh? Wait a minute.. Arthur?!" Your brows furrowed. "Toby, have you been lying to Nana about this 'International student'?" You made finger quotes as you looked upon your nephew's embarrassed face.

"Uhhh, maybe?" He shrugs. You sigh, disappointed in your nephew.

"If you'll allow me to explain, Lady Y/n,"

Oh- no man, or at least you think it's male, has ever called you lady..

"Aaarrrggh and I are trolls. Master Jim as you see over there," He points to chicken legs, "Is the troll hunter. Underneath your world, there is a magnificent other world, filled with trolls and things you couldn't possibly believe." He waves his hands up in the air.

You nod, taking it all in.

"Ugh, this hurts my head." Another world? Trolls? Troll hunter?? Jim moves beside the blue troll whose name you don't know and speaks to him softly.

"Hi, I'm Claire." There's a hand that's shoved in front of you, in which you awkwardly shake.

"Hey, I'm Toby's aunt. Not biological but I knew his parents well." She nodded before removing her hand from yours. You leaned down, whispering into Toby's ear.

"Who's 6 eyes?"

A voice answered you before Toby's mouth even opened. "My name is Blinky. A pleasure to meet you, lady Y/n." The troll paddles over to you, his stone feet making satisfying clicking sounds as he walks. He holds one of his upper hands out for you to shake.

He didn't seem like such a threat, in fact, he seemed like a gentleman. You smiled and shook his hand. His skin was stone, as you could feel the cracks engraved into it as your hand flooded with a strange warmth.

"Nice to meet you too, Blinky." You release his hand after a few seconds of shaking.

"Master Jim and I were discussing a matter regarding you. If you would like, we could show you Troll Market."

"Troll Market?" You question.

"The home of trolls such as myself, and Aaarrrgghh over here." He points behind him, your eyes wander over to the window as you see that large head. The large troll waves a hand and smiles, seeing as everybody's eyes are now on him.

"Has he been out there the whole time?" You ponder. Why isn't he just in the room?

"Rooms too small." You look around, finding it is indeed smaller than your nephew's room. Oh well. You think about the opportunity to travel to this unknown world. Eh, why not. You would be keeping an eye on Toby as well, so that's always good.

"Um, well, if your offering then, of course, I'd come. Thank you for inviting me." You smile at the blue troll. He smiles back, his 6 eyes staring into your 2. His eyes just seemed so soft.. And mesmerizing, having never seen anyone like this before. Your eyes ghost his face, inspecting upon closer details on the stoned troll.

...

"Ahem." Jim coughs. You both suddenly break eye contact as Blinky coughs, making his way towards the exit.

"Aha! Yes, we should be going. Daylight is rising." He muttered as the teens follow him out. You follow, exiting the house as the breeze of the night flushes your already pink cheeks. Your lead to the bridge you had driven over while entering the town, but now under it.

Aaarrrgghh is tossed a glowing stone by Blinky, creating a semi-circle on the stone of the bridge. He punches the wall, creating a crack before it starts to fall apart. Yellow swirls around the stone before creating something like a portal?

The trolls head in, followed by Jim and Claire. "Cmon auntie, it won't hurt you." You begrudgingly sigh and follow him inside the glowing portal. Stepping inside, you wince as you close your eyes.

Not even a second later, you could feel your area darken. Opening your eyes, you see everyone else staring at you. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Goddammit. The kids laugh as Blinky looks at with you an indescribable expression.

Is he disappointed? Shocked? Unbeknownst to you, the corners of the blue troll's lips rose. "This way, lady Y/n." His 4 hands motioned you to the crystal stairs, swirling downwards in a circle. Oh my god- Wow.

Everyone makes their way down the steps, in comfortable silence. Coming further down, you stop as you take in the view. The magnificent, one-of-a-kind, breathtaking, OH MY GOD, view. "Wow." You mumble in awe, looking up at the enormous, orange crystal in the center. Everything was so beautiful.

"Welcome to HeartStone Troll Market!" Blinky exclaimed from behind you. The other smiled as they watched your reaction. Stepping down the steps, you ended up beside the 6 eyed troll as you stopped.

"Where should we go first?" Toby asked as you gazed upon the well-spoken mystery. Now taking a better look as the others speak, you watch as his eyes blink simultaneously. How the 2d tooth on both sides of his mouth is cracked. The deep grooves into his stone skin. You paid minor attention to what he was wearing before, but now looking closer you see the 2 satchels sporting each hip on his brown overalls.

Your gazing ventures further down, looking at his flat feet. Heh, they look stumpy. "Great! We'll take you to the forge, where you can see my impressive hammer skills!" Toby proclaimed, steering your head up from your gaze.

6 eyes met yours. Oh god, did he see you staring at him? Did he see you staring below his waist??? He doesn't bring it up if he did, instead leading the 5 of you to the 'forge'.

"This is the forge, where many of our great warriors have trained." Blinky gestures around the grand room. You look around in awe, feeling a little overwhelmed by such a beautiful realm.

"It's amazing." You whisper, settling yourself on the sidelines of the giant arena as the kids grab weapons. Weapons?! Oh god.. Aaarrrgghh comes and sits behind you, jolting you with a loud thud as he sits. Blinky stands beside you, gazing out at the children.

"Indeed they are." Your eyes meet his 6, a glance before breaking contact. You smile, proud of your little nephew.

"Aunt Y/n! Look!" The ginger boy yelled from across the large expanse. You watch as he pulls out a small item, before smashing it to the ground. It sprouts a large, flaming orange hammer. Your mouth widens in shock as you see him swish the weapon around. "Impressive, right? It's my war hammer." He says as he trudges over to you.

"Uh yeah, just please be careful with that." He laughs before skittering off. Guess he gets that from Nana. You sigh as you watch the kids spar, rather impressed by Jim's armor and Claire's staff. After they were done fooling around, you see as Claire checks her watch.

"Guys, it's almost 6:30. We should get going." Mumbling as she puts away her shadow staff. Toby groans, retracting his hammer as Jim takes off the amulet.

"Ughh, I forgot we had school today." You slightly chuckle at the kids' words, being the exact same as a child. Jim, Claire, and Toby all run towards the exit of Trollmarket whereas you stand still. Toby looks behind him, seeing your unmoving form.

"Are you coming, auntie?" He cocks his head.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, I just thought I would have more time checking the place out.." You trail off, glancing at what you thought to be your last look at the mysterious underground world. From behind you, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh look towards each other.

"Ahem, if I may, Aaarrrgghh and I will accompany Lady Y/n down here while you're at school. If.. That is alright with you?" His dark, red eyes turn to your form. You nod excitedly.

"Yes! Yes, I would love that." His lips form a smile, 6 eyes gleaming at you before turning back to the other 3 humans.

"Now, run along kids. Aaarrrgghh and I will keep Lady Y/n safe." 2 of his hands form a 'shoo' motion as they smile. You move towards Toby, wrapping him in a hug before bidding goodbye. Turning towards your new-found troll friends, you couldn't help but grin as your leaded into the busy streets of the market.

"This place is so beautiful. How long have you guys been living down here?" You wonder, looking around at all the shop stalls.

"A few centuries, after the battle of Killahead bridge, we had traveled until we found the heartstone you see today." Blinky gestured a hand to the bright, orange crystal towards the center wall of the market.

"Hated boat." Aaarrrgghh chimed in from behind, his large statue circling both the conundrum troll and the female human.

"Yes, we all did." Memories flashed in his 6 eyes before he shivered, obviously not liking that part of his life.

"Killahead bridge? What's that?" You question. You're stopped in front of what looked to be a bookstore. The 2 trolls enter, you following closely behind them as you take in the view. Books littered the walls everywhere. Bookshelves, books on tables, and some even on the floor.

"Ah, and that's the reason why I took you here. You seem like a lover of history, as I am. Therefore, Lady Y/n, I have taken you to my lodgings to learn about troll history!" He exclaims, clearly excited.

"This is your house?" Looking around, it does suit him.

"Indeed, now make it as if your own. I will fetch you some books you can read that will fully satisfy a craving for troll history." He runs around the room, 4 arms stacked full of large books that would most likely take you hours to read. Aaarrrgghh yawns from the corner, bored.

A few minutes later, he sets the books down with a thud on a large table. You sit in one of the chairs presented, grabbing one of the books from the top of the stack. Opening it up, you stare blankly. Turning the pages, you realize you can't read the language.

"Blinky, I can't read this." You say, head popping up from the pages, meeting his 6 eyes. He walks over to you, standing closely behind you as he looks over your shoulder. Your heartbeat quickens as you can see the strands of each of his hair. His long ears softly flap as his eyebrows furrow while reading what you can't.

"Hmm.. That is an issue." He sets a hand on his chin, pondering for a quick while before getting an idea. Sliding a chair over, he sits in front of you, grabbing the book from the table into his 2 upper hands. "Well, I'll just read it to you!" He smiles as you nod, eagerly wanting to learn about something you didn't know existed until 2 hours ago.

And so began the many hours of Blinky reading trollish to you. At some point, Aaarrrgghh decided to leave the hole, leaving you and the conundrum troll alone. You arch your strained back as he finished reading the last sentence of the 3rd book. "And those were all the creatures starting with an A!"

"Wow Blinky that was really, informational." Stretching your legs outwards, you bump onto his foot with your own. Recoiling your legs, you speak quickly, "Oh, sorry." Your cheeks flush.

"No worries Lady Y/n." He sets the book down on the table. "This may sound a bit odd," His eyes find yours, "but I've always been fascinated with the human body. If it's alright with you, lady Y/n, may I take a look at you?"

You thought for a second. Of course, you would also be curious about a different type of species other than your own. Plus, although you've only known him for a few hours, you trusted him. You nod, "Yea sure." He visibly relaxed at your answer. "But," You continue, " I want to look at you too."

He blinked, processing your words before smiling. "Of course." You were unsure of what to do now, sitting in silence as you both watched each other. It was only when he scooted closer, the sound of his chair scraping the ground broke you from your gaze.

"If I may..?" He gestured towards your resting arm. You quickly lifted it up and bent closer, showing him your fleshy arm. He told ahold gently, stone hands that were surprisingly warm against your skin. He traced up and down your arm, squishing a few times.

His breath tickled your skin, resulting in tiny goosebumps forming. "What are those small bumps?" He mumbled, eyes fixated on your arm.

"Those are goosebumps. Humans get them when we're cold." You answer, enjoying being the teacher for once.

"Fascinating." He moved down from your arm towards your fingers, squishing, prodding, rubbing. Your hands tingled in his own as he poked your fingernails. "And these?" He pointed towards them.

"Those are fingernails, they're made of keratin." He nodded, placing your hand down.

"Thank you for allowing me to look at you, lady Y/n." You smiled, waving your hand.

"No problem. Now it's my turn." He lifted his lower arm and extended it towards you. You grab hold, a bit taken aback at the size. His hand could easily fit around your whole face. You rub the warm stone, strumming your fingers along it as you play a rhythmic tune.

Unlike you, he only had 4 fingers, every one of them very large. While your head is down playing with his hand, his 6 eyes gaze upon you. Never did he allow a human he just met to poke and prod at him, so why did he allow you? The moment you had awoken in Toby's house, a scream and a stumble he had expected when you saw him, but he didn't expect you to shake his hand for so long.

He would have sufficed a quick shake and a fearful let go, leaving you in his 'ok' books. But, you just kept staring at him, even now, he feels his heart shake a little as you examine his arm. Standing near him willingly, refusing to leave with Master Jim and the others, but to stay and explore more of his world? Oh dear.

"You know," Your voice snaps him out of his daydream, "even though you're made of stone, you're actually very warm." You note as you caress his arm.

"Ah, yes, rather strange isn't it?" He brings an upper hand of his to his mouth and coughs. He could feel as you trace the engravements on his skin, your fingernails scratching him a little.

"Can I touch your belly?" He sputtered at the question.

"My stomach?" You lift your head, watching as his face contorts into a confused expression.

"I mean, uh- never mind." You release his hand and try to laugh it off. Well, that was embarrassing. You feel your cheeks rise in heat as you look at the ground.

"You may." A soft voice beckons you to look up, staring at the oh-so-kind troll, looking down at you with gentle eyes. You smile, giving a small thank you before moving your hand towards the troll's exposed stomach. Settling your hand on the stone belly, you felt him jolt slightly.

Tracing the engravings upon his skin once more, you lean closer and place your other hand onto him. Your eyes focus on his body, not daring to make eye contact. Whereas, his 6 eyes stared intently down at you. Watching, feeling your every move. He could somewhat feel your breath on his stone skin as well. Although he did find it odd you would want to touch his stomach, it did feel nice.

Your hands caress his body, leaning your face in as you stare into the cracked stone. Wonderous. As you slid your hands up, you went a bit further than you assumed as your hands went upon his chest. "Oh- sorry about that, getting a little handsy heh." You remove your hands and scratch your neck as you mentally slap yourself. Goddammit Y/n. You could feel your cheeks reddening.

He says nothing, so you look up at him. His eyes, half-lidded, staring at you with an unexplainable expression. What is..?

"May I smoosh faces with you?"

"Pardon?" You lower your hand from your neck, head shooting up from his words. Smoosh faces? Wait.. Did he mean kissing? "Do you want to kiss me?" You whisper.

"Yes! That's the word." He nodded.

"Then, yes." You nod, slowly leaning back towards him. He swallowed as you closed your eyes, coming towards him ever so slowly. He pushed his face towards yours, his large lips pressed against yours. His teeth touched your cheeks, but he was careful not to hurt you. 2 of his arms came and clutched onto your shoulders.

Unconsciously pulling you closer towards him, you lifted yourself out of your seat and onto his lap. Lower hands settle onto your waist, holding you close as you continue the kiss. He pulled away first, 6 wide eyes settled upon you.

"That was.." You try and find the word.

"Magnificent." He breathed out. His arms slowly slid up and down your waist, caressing your clothed skin. "May I.. Remove your shirt?" Struck with lust, you nodded, lifting your arms up as he removes your shirt. Discarding the shirt to the floor, he leans in and breaths in your scent.

"Blinky," You whisper in his ear, "take off my pants." You slowly grind against him in his lap, breathing heavily. He aides you in removing your clothing, until your sitting on him with only a bra on. You unclip your bra and toss it to the side, your breasts free from the barrier. Your nipples harden at the cool air, gaining the troll's attention.

He asks for your permission, "Blinky, I wouldn't get naked just so you can't touch me." He removes his upper hands from your shoulders and placed them over your breasts. He experimentally kneads, pushes, and rubs your fat lumps. You softly moan, encouraging him to continue.

"You are very squishy.." He mumbles, softly pinching your nipples. You arch your back, pushing your chest further into him as one of his lower hands moves to support your back. You grab his hand attached to your waist and pull it between your legs.

"Touch me here." You release the stone as he complies, his large fingers fiddling between your folds. He takes experimental rubs into you, finding your clit with your help as you release a loud moan. His hands continue to rub your tits, rubbing your nipples with soft strength.

"O-oh.." You grind into his hand as he rubs your button.

"I'd like to take a closer look, if I may?" He puffs in your ear. You nod, frowning as he removes his hands from your body, only to lift you up and carry you towards a back room. Entering the new room, you see a pile of pillows and blankets littering the floor. He sets you upon them before removing his overalls.

You move a hand between your legs and feel your wetness, circling your clit a few times as you beg for him in your mind. He lays his clothes on the side before returning to your side. Settling his face between your legs, he inhales your scent deeply through his large orange nose. "Human anatomy is rather fascinating up close."

He says it as if he.. You sit up, bumping against his nose before he brings his head up, a confused expression on his face. "Blinky, is this the first time you've done it?"

"Done what?"

"Had sex..?" He smiles at your worried expression. "Cause we can stop if you want to-"

"My dear, this is only the first time I've done anything with your kind. As well, I am positively overjoyed to be with you right now. Rest assured, I want to do this." You exhale and smile, flopping your head back down.

"Well, that's a relief. And I am too, Blinky, really happy to do this with you." You avoid eye contact, your cheeks too flushed to be seen. He returns his head back down, his fingers spreading your lips as he explores you.

He blows air, rubs, licks. As his mouth plays with your outer part, a stone finger gently prods your entrance. Sliding into you with ease, you gasp as you thought how a single digit was so thick. You're having sex with a troll, duh.

Soon enough, with all of his stimulation, you came around his finger. "AhhH~" Crying out, he halts his movements as you come down from your high. He leans up as your thighs twitch, bringing his soaked finger to his mouth before licking.

"Was that alright?"

You panted, holding up a thumbs up. "Amazing." He gave an innocent smile, amusing in the situation that had just occurred. You leaned up, sitting on your butt. "Blinky, so um," You gestured towards his blank pelvis.

"Ah, for me to release my, 'intimacy', I will need to be coaxed open. Protective plates will shift, revealing myself." You nodded, crawling closer towards him as he leaned back, parting his legs. You didn't know exactly what to do, so you started with rubbing the stone. Looking up towards your lover's face, he seemed to like it as his 6 eyes fell half-lidded, staring down at you.

You continued rubbing until what he had said happened, his plates parted, revealing not one, but 3 appendages. The middle, being the largest, whereas the other 2 were shorter. "Ah.. Yes, the middle one is the functioning one, carrying the sperm. The others are for added stimulation." He muttered as your hand softly caressed his cocks.

"So, how do you wanna do this? You lie down or me?" You stroke him as he ponders.

"It is your first time with a troll, so allow me to take command." A breathy voice mutters, hands removing yours from himself as he sets you on your back. "I fear the other way around would have you in pain." He was right, cowgirl position usually gets deeper.

You settle down as he scooches near you, hands ahold of his larger phallus. The smaller ones swirl and wrangle as their placed near your thigh creases. He angles the middle one to your hole, as 2 of his hands grasp your waist. Pushing his hips forwards, he slowly slides in, stretching you no man, or toy had ever done to you.

Your hands find his attached to your skin, grasping onto his hand and signal him to slow down. He does, waiting for you to adjust to his girth. It takes a long while as you wait for the pain to settle as he pushes himself in little by little. After a couple of minutes, you finally have him all inside without any pain. Discomfort? Yes, but nothing you cant handle.

As he pulls out, the first few pushes are testing. Testing your levels and discomfort. Hearing the soft sounds you make as he slowly enters you, he speeds up his thrusts. Rocky digits hold onto your skin, moving upwards towards your breasts as another set comes onto your skin. He leans over you as he rhythmically pounds into you.

His smaller tendrils wiggle and surround your opening, gently prodding your hole. You couldn't dare to fit another one inside, could you? He stares at your form, looking for any signs of pain. "Are you alright so far?" He rolls his hips against you.

"Yes! It feels so good.." You lift your arms and place your hands onto his cheeks. He gives you a toothy smile before returning to the task at hand. Your arms fell to clutch his own around you as he gives a sharp thrust. You moan as he bites his lips.

A deep growl resonated within the bookworm's chest as one of his smaller tendrils slowly pushes its way inside of you. You whine as it snakes its way through your hole, wiggling against your walls. You feel so full. You could feel yourself coming undone, a ball in your stomach forming as he slithers inside of you.

The outer phallus slides up your vulva, towards the top of your lips, finding your little pink button. You squeal as you are overwhelmed with pleasure. He grunts over you, clenching his teeth as he continues to thrust. Wet sounds surrounded the room, the slapping of him against you is the only sound in the room.

You clench down around him, both of his cocks still moving as you release onto them. Soaked in your juices, they glisten in the light as they're pulled from you in mere milliseconds before pounding back inside you. You cry out from the overstimulation, your face contorting into many expressions as your opening's abused by large cocks.

As he nears his end, his chest rumbles as he begins to make curious sounds. Deep throaty rasps, before a loud yelp lets out from his tusked mouth. Hot seed envelopes your insides, soaking your walls. He continues to thrust, riding out his orgasm before he settles down. Pulling out from you, he leans to the side and flops down.

You pant and turn towards him, grabbing onto his hand as he heaves. You both lay in silence, catching your breath from such an exhilarating activity.

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #blinky #blinkous #blinkous galadrigal #blinkyxreader #blinkousxreader

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omg-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not (Part 12/15)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Kinda nervous posting again since it’s been a while, but we’re winding down to the end of this story with only three more parts to go (2 chapters + an epilogue). As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy!

Part 11

Home.

You are home. It’s supposed to be home.

But it wasn’t. To you, it couldn’t be.

This place feels too far from home, too foreign. You had no memories of it, no recollection of the safety and security it offers. Not even the faintest remembrance of the laughter, smiles, and tears; the fondness and the sadness these four walls have witnessed over the years.

You can’t call it home. You don’t know where home is, and you’re not sure you have one anymore.

Not after leaving him behind.

It’s cold and dark when you first wake, sleep weighing heavily in your eyes. A pair of curtains block out the sun from filtering into the room, leaving you to wonder if you had slept through half the day. With a yawn, you stretch, the bed underneath creaking as your body fully rouses from yet another night of fitful slumber. Almost a month back in New York, and it doesn’t make sense to keep blaming your lack of energy on the time difference.

The ache is still ever-present. The pain caused by the void in your heart remains, sharply throbbing in your chest with its refusal to go away. Two heartbreaks, two betrayals, occurring five years apart, but it feels as though not much time has passed in-between.

It hurts to ponder about it, that evening when your seemingly perfect little world came crashing down. Hiding behind rose-tinted glasses, you were unknowingly tricked, fully caught up in a well-crafted illusion. His illusion. Love has blinded you to the sad reality, and in the end, it left you a shattered mess, a hollow shell of your former self.

You doubt you’ll ever be whole again.

Forcing yourself out from under the covers, you reach for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before scrolling through your notifications. Nothing was of interest to you, fortunately; you didn’t have the energy to respond to those you suddenly abandoned. Friends who cared about you but realized you were never close to them. Not in the way it used to be.

As you skimmed over the new texts and emails, you then came across his now unsaved number. The moment you stepped on the plane, you deleted his contact from your phone and blocked him. Yet the last messages he sent to you were still there and haven’t been read since, though you already knew what they could entail—

I’m sorry.

It was never my intention to hurt you.

Please give me another chance.

Let me fix this.

Just come back, Y/N. Come back home.

Home. There was that damn word again. You were beginning to loathe it, even more so knowing that whenever you think of home, you wind up thinking of him.

The last time you saw him was the morning after the storm. Booking a one-way ticket back to the east coast, you then spent the early hours packing as many clothes that would fit in a single suitcase. Tears had long since dried up, having none left as you headed down the stairs, ignoring the look he gave you from afar.

He was dressed in the outfit he had on the night prior; his hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and it was quite obvious he endured no sleep. Your resolve nearly crumbles as your gazes connect, bodies close enough that he could reach out the slightest bit, and he’d be holding your hand in the palm of his.

Fighting the urge, you didn’t cave in. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for it—for him.

No, never again.

As expected, he followed you out of the house, remaining quiet as he watched the cab driver load your luggage in the trunk. You paid him no attention when he approached the vehicle once you climbed in, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare. With nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, you decided it was best to leave California, not that you belonged there anyway.

It played out like a scene from a movie—the taxi pulling out of the driveway slowly as the raindrops started to fall. Hearing him call out your name, his voice cracking with each syllable, made you hesitate for a beat. Perhaps you could forgive him, you had thought in that split-second. Forgive and forget; let what happened in the past stay in the past.

But even if you did, the pain’s still there, and it was overpowering. This pain resulting from his deception had been too consuming, too unbearable to move on.

You told the driver to hurry as you couldn’t afford to miss your flight.

The atmosphere in the car was fraught with grim silence. As the house sequestered in the hills vanishes in the rearview mirror, you knew you were running away from it all. You couldn’t stand being here in LA, where every turn, every corner, and every street reminds you of a life that wasn’t truly yours.

As idyllic it once was, you wanted no part of it anymore. Instead, you sought for familiarity, the life you used to have, the one you could only remember.

What you thought was your real home.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you had broken down in the backseat, never feeling more alone than you did at that moment.

You wish you could forget, but it’s not that easy. It’s never easy. Memories of him linger in your mind, still tragically fresh as they haunt you day in and day out. Closing your eyes, you could see him wearing this smile that used to make your stomach flutter. You came to love his smile the same way you had loved him wholly.

Now? Seeing it was a stab to the heart—a reminder of how he took advantage of your condition, your vulnerability. Of every lie you were fed. That smile, the one you previously hoped to wake up to for the rest of your life, had been an act, a facade.

Everything had been a facade.

A sudden knock on the door startles you, and you clicked off the phone screen before announcing to whoever that they could come in. Your mother Nancy enters soon after, her face displaying concern when she realizes you had just woken up. She’s silent as she walks towards the window and then pushes the curtains aside, the sunlight outside immediately washing over the room.

Briefly, you squint to adjust to the brightness, a confirmation that it was past noon already—another wasted day.

“Hey, darling,” she speaks softly as she moves to sit on the mattress beside you. “How are you doing?”

There’s no point in lying, but as much as you greatly appreciated her caringness, you didn’t want to burden her with your problems. They were yours to deal with and yours alone.

“Better.” And that, you were. Just a week ago, you finally stopped crying yourself to sleep. “I might even go out tomorrow and look for a job. Can’t keep freeloading under your roof, right?”

You release a half-chuckle, a small attempt to lighten up the mood. It was comforting when your mother cracks a smile in response.

“Oh, hush. You’re always welcome to stay as long as you need to,” she assures, a loving warmth radiating from her tone.

Lips pressing together, you sense that she has another thing to address. “What’s wrong?”

Nancy pauses to take a breath, shoulders rising and falling. For some reason, you’re on edge, finding yourself bracing for what was to come.

“Have you spoken to Keanu lately?”

Upon hearing his name, you swallowed away the lump in your throat. After telling your parents what had transpired, it stirred up various emotions—mainly anger from your father, sorrow from your mom. Their hearts sank as you recounted the story, tears blurring your eyes that you couldn’t see their faces. It was a good thing, however; you probably wouldn’t have reached the end.

Since then, they’ve refrained from speaking of him and to him. He’s called the house on a few occasions but could never get past the automated answering machine. Pictures of the two of you hanging on the walls were taken down shortly after the revelation, and you were unsure of who had done it.

Your parents still couldn’t believe he was capable of such a thing. He had played them the same way you were, twisting the truth and omitting facts. Painting himself in a way that made them think allowing you to stay with him was the best decision when just months before he treated you as if you didn’t matter.

As if he didn’t love you.

“No.” Curt, you had nothing else to say.

“He’s a persistent one, I’ll tell you that. Left another message last night,” Nancy comments, feeling her stare as you fiddled with the hands in your lap. The next time she speaks, it’s slow and controlled. She’s careful with her words, wary of how you would react to what she has to say. “Hon, the last time you were here, you told me something. Something that I probably should have mentioned the day you woke up in the hospital.”

You tense, eyes flickering up to hers. “What is it?”

She sighs deeply, her smile fleeting and replaced by a taut frown. “I knew you and Keanu were having… problems. Not the full story, but enough that told me you’ve been unhappy for a while.”

“W-Why didn’t you bring this up then?”

“Because the second I saw him in your hospital room, I could see how much he loves you. How scared he was at the thought of nearly losing you—”

“Pfft, sure he was,” you scoff at the statement in disbelief. “What he did—you don’t do that to someone you love. You don’t lie to them, betray them. Hell, if you had given me a heads up earlier, then it would have saved me all this trouble.”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you get it? He’s an actor. Of course, he’s good at playing pretend. Got us all believing that things were all sunshine and rainbows. He fucked up and fucked up even more by lying. I’ve always had a bad track record in relationships, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised.”

Tension hangs thickly in the air, an apology murmured at the end of a passing second. You didn’t mean to snap at your mother, to let the anger and betrayal consume you that you began taking it out on others although unwillingly.

But you were just too goddamn hurt. Every day, the memories are suffocating you despite constantly wishing and pleading for them to disappear. That life, the one you had with Keanu, no longer exists, and yet you were still holding onto the frayed remains of it, not ready to move on—to let go.

You grieve. You grieve and mourn for the recent past, the happiness and love you experienced in the time you were left unaware. Never have you felt so complete, so content, and much at ease. You had turned a blind eye to the signs, to the small inklings of doubt brewing inside because you thought that there was no way you could get something else as close to this.

Perhaps you were both to blame after all.

“I thought he was different,” you whisper, sorrow flowing from your words. “I thought he was the one. The man I’d settle down with, marry, and then maybe someday, be the father of my kids. We’d build an entire life together, a family, a future. The kind of life where I could look back on it fifty years from now when we’re old and gray and not regret a single thing.”

Feeling your mother’s hand come on top of yours with a light squeeze, you fought off the tears forcing their way from your eyes. You swore you would never shed a tear for Keanu ever again, but you are crumbling from within. The weak walls you put up are now tumbling down, leaving you even more vulnerable than before.

“I want to hate him. I want him to feel my pain and suffer through it, knowing that he’s the reason why. But I can’t. Somehow, I just can’t.”

“It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him,” Nancy adds solemnly, and you nod shakily. “You’re healing, dear. So far, all you’ve done is put on a bandaid, but it doesn’t mean the wound closes up immediately. It’ll burn, it’ll bleed, and it’ll ache, and right now, that’s what you’re feeling; the pain of a fresh open wound.”

“Make the pain stop,” you mumbled incoherently as you lean against your mom’s side, wet cheeks pressed to her shoulder. “It has to stop.”

“And it will,” she promises, listening to your soft and tired cries. “It’ll take time for the wound to heal, but eventually, it will. Until then, life continues, and you would have to as well. You don’t have to go all-in right away, but don’t let this heartbreak hinder you from living, sweetie. You’re strong, and I believe you will feel that same happiness again, in one form or another. But you won’t find it unless you go out and look for it.”

For the first time in what seemed like a while, you felt something other than loss and despair. It creeps into you slowly, half-expecting a cold, crushing weight to fall heavily on your chest rather than the warmth and light it is. But as quickly as it came, the sensation subsides, a wave of loneliness, emptiness filling the vacant space surrounding your heart.

A shuddering breath released, you then reflect upon what your mother said about time and how time heals all wounds. You wonder how much time is needed until you can finally break free from the remnants of the past and breathe again. Could be days, weeks, or even months more, but it’s right there, waiting for you on the horizon.

You may not have a place to call home, but what you do have is time.

---

Seconds turn into minutes; minutes turn into hours. The sun sets, the moon rises; bright, blues skies bleed into a fiery red before dimming to an inky darkness. The world spins on its axis as people wake, move, then sleep, and the cycle begins all over again.

Two weeks have come and gone, and life pushes onward. You could tell by the scenery outside where the season of fall has taken charge of the Northeast. Days are shorter, with nights stretching out longer as the year fades into winter. Time was flying by at a brisk pace. Very soon, a blanket of snow will cover the ground you walk on, reminding you to take a step back and admire the natural beauty of mid-November.

The crispness of the late afternoon air is refreshing as it fills your lungs, a welcome change from the hazy summer heat. Leaves that were once lively shades of green are now painted in deep hues of amber and burgundy, and they crunch beneath your boots with each leisure step down the earthy path. The nearby lake is as pristine as ever, sparkling freely underneath the rays of the ochre sun as it waits for the impending frost.

Wandering about outdoors for hours now, you were lost in your stream of thoughts. You honestly felt better, not entirely mended, but just enough that you can step out of the house and explore the quaint little town. A picturesque place, it was a perfect settlement for your retired parents where everyone knew everybody; their faces, names, the street they lived on. Boilding down to more personal details such as knowing the pets they owned, which book club they’re a part of, and any recent travels.

When the townsfolk saw you, you sensed the feeling of familiarity. Those you passed by in the streets waved at you, and though you couldn’t exactly recall your relationship with them, it made you smile. Recently, old friends and family in the area had begun reaching out after hearing you were back. You never gave them the full explanation, only revealing that things in California did not work out, and you figured it was best to leave.

Was it a permanent decision? Most likely. Life here is simpler, quieter. You enjoyed the peacefulness, favoring the calm atmosphere of this town much over the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. It gave you space to think, to focus, to breathe. To reacquaint with yourself, rebuild who you are as a person by taking this journey of self-discovery.

It’s the brand new start you desperately wanted, needed. An opportunity to find your place in this world without the past holding you back. Without the shadow of the woman you once were looming over you. And if your memories don’t ever return, which deep down, you hope they never would, you would be fine with it.

You were tired of being stuck searching pieces of the past. You had to live.

Trekking up the gravel road leading to your parents’ home, a black car sits on top of the hill, one that you did not recognize. Perplexed, you approached the house with hesitant steps, dragging your feet through the pile of dead and dry leaves. There was a moment of panic when you noticed a man sitting on the front porch steps, hands clasped on his knees as he hung his head low, a curtain of dark hair masking his identity.

But you don’t need to think twice, for you already know who it is.

“Keanu?”

His name slipping out of your mouth feels different now. Gone is the affectionate tone that it was usually spoken in. It held no meaning, void of any warmth or tenderness. Keanu, the name is bitter on your tongue, a poison that could cause you to spiral down yet again, and saying it out loud brought upon a rage that swirls through your veins.

How dare he show up here unannounced?

As you take your breaths, one… two… three... and out, Keanu straightens his posture and meets your stern glare. Slowly, he gets up, the expression on his face hard to read. But aside from that, he looked worse for wear. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and prominent, the beard on his chin was unruly and untamed. He appears gaunt and exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept a wink ever since you walked out of the door and out of his life.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re the first to break the thick silence, a testament of your bravery and strength of some sort. Brows furrowing and teeth gritting in anger, it contrasts with Keanu’s lax demeanor as he steps closer. “No, stay back. You have no right to be here right now.”

“Y/N, please...” He speaks calmly, each and every one of his movements measured. “I’m not here to fight—”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you seethed, shaking your head as you stormed past him and towards the door. Tears brew in your cloudy eyes, a sign of how much he still affected you. Seeing him again after all this time only proved that the wound he had inflicted bleeds to this day.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Keanu quickly trails from behind, his voice dripping with utter desperation. “Please, just… give me a chance to talk. All you have to do is listen, and I promise you won’t ever have to see me again.”

The seriousness in his timbre causes you to halt in your tracks. Swallowing dryly, you turn around, sad, tired eyes reaching his guilt-filled ones. Keanu stands before you with a face written in despair, making him barely recognizable. The way he’s staring at you as if he’s hopeless and in pure anguish is unsettling, and you almost pitied him for it.

“Y/N…” He pleads softly, defeatedly. “Hear me out, please.”

You wrestled between your options, half apathetic, half curious of what Keanu had to say. Unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, he mutely begs for you to relent, and if this is all it takes for him to leave you alone, leave you for good, then so be it.

“Ten minutes,” you muttered, low enough that he barely catches it at first. Crossing your arms against your chest, the gentle autumn wind rustling through the trees pierces the silent air as you observe Keanu staggering forward, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, gazing at you with his searching brown eyes. “I-I know saying it a thousand times won’t make a difference, but I really am sorry. What I did before and after the accident was inexcusable and selfish. I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself that. Don’t expect you to do so, either. You probably hate my guts right now, and flying out here might be a mistake, but I needed to talk to you in person. To say goodbye one last time.”

Brushing his hair back, Keanu then pads over to the trunk of the car, and all you can do is wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long, but he makes two trips to unload two boxes, setting each of them down in the space separating you two. He instantly notices the confusion etched across your features, burying his hands in his coat pocket with an exhale.

“Are those—”

“All the things you left behind,” Keanu finishes feebly. “Thought you would want them back.”

Stunned, a mirthless chuckle escapes your throat. “You didn’t have to do this. Those aren’t my things anyway.”

“But they are—”

“They’re not mine,” you cut him off with a weary gaze. “Keanu, I’ve said this before; I’m not the woman you fell in love with. Not anymore. Look, throughout those months we spent together, I tried to fit into this life everyone told me I had. A life that’s far from what I was used to. God, it feels like a dream being her. So confident, happy, and successful. Waking up from the coma, of course, I would want that. I had just gotten out of a terrible relationship which left me broken and unworthy of anything and anyone. Then you showed me the love I thought I didn’t deserve, and it kept me from realizing that it was all too good to be true.”

Eyes faltering to the ground, your fingers fumbled with the hem of your sweater, ultimately distracting yourself from the tears threatening to fall. “The truth is, I didn’t know you. You were, are, a stranger to me. You had done things behind my back, hid details that would have been a deal-breaker, but you didn’t care. I’ve thought about it a lot lately; would I have stayed if you told me from the very beginning. I wasn’t sure if I was madder at you kissing someone else, knowing how much it would hurt me, or the fact that you lied to fix this—us.”

There is a moment of silence that weighs over everything. The wind stops blowing; the leaves are motionless. Time seems to slow around you and Keanu as he waits for your next words. Words that you are still searching for since you hadn’t prepared to voice those thoughts out loud. They all came rushing, flooding like a broken dam, too overwhelming to keep at bay.

“Which one is it?” Keanu probes delicately, equally afraid of which answer you’re going to give.

“Neither,” you revealed, surprisingly. “I’m angrier at myself for falling too fast; for being the naive little girl who let herself be fooled, who refused to listen to her instincts even though she knew they were usually right.”

You see Keanu open his mouth to speak, but you weren’t done. “I always believed this accident was a curse. It erased years worth of memories that, at this point, I’ll never get back. But now, I see the good that came out of it. Our fights, our arguments, they were all signs that our relationship was falling apart, but I couldn’t let go of it—of you. I held onto us thinking the bad will just phase out eventually when in reality, I couldn’t bear giving up on you and this life we shared.”

Another pause. “Huh, funny. Looking at it, the same thing happened all over again.”

With that said, you felt relieved, somewhat lighter. Despite previous inclinations, you didn’t shout or yell at Keanu. Nor did you discuss to the fullest extent of the suffering you’ve endured. Strangely, it was nearly therapeutic admitting all of that to him, to yourself. For months, you had been unable to let go and accept the truth, allowing fear and doubt to control your actions.

But that was then, and this is now.

And now, it was time for you to be free.

“Guess this is it,” Keanu sighs dejectedly. He didn’t come here to win you back, knowing there’s nothing that he could do or say to repair the damage. Like you, he’s letting go, letting this be the closure he needs, and you need as well. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “Guess this is goodbye.”

Before you could leave his sight to spare Keanu the awkwardness, he holds up a finger, signaling you to wait a second. Swiftly, he goes to retrieve something that’s lying on the front seat, something that you’ve spent countless hours flipping through. He then reluctantly passes it over to you, and you’re unsure what to do with it.

“Your pictures,” he points out, though you were already aware. “I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything by giving this, but this book is yours. Keep it, burn it, do whatever seems right to you. But I want you to know, to remember, that I did love you. I still do, and these photos are proof of it, even if you can’t bring yourself to believe that I’m telling the truth. You deserve love and to be loved, Y/N. More than anything in the universe. I fucked up my chance to be the one to tell you that every day, but it doesn’t mean the next person you fall for will.”

“Ke…” your voice suddenly breaks with emotion, uncertain of what to add after his statement. It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him, your mother’s earlier words echo in your mind, ringing true in your heart. Even after everything, a piece of you still loved Keanu, and saying goodbye to him more painful than you anticipated.

As you stand frozen, Keanu inches nearer until he’s by your feet, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your cheek. He strokes your face with a tender caress before tilting your chin upwards to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb along your lower lip gently. You allow him to have this moment, to hold you and study you for a final time, commit you to memory as this would be the last.

Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him press a soft kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it immediately spreading throughout your body before he slowly pulls away.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Keanu says, opening the driver’s side door of his rental. You look at each other once more and see the subtle, hopeful smile he shoots your way. “And don’t be afraid to love again.”

You watch as he starts driving away, opting to wait until the car is finally out of view before releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

In your hands is a keepsake of your memories. A collection of captured moments that you had cherished so dearly. But things are different now; mistakes were made, words were said, people have grown apart. You found no reason to linger in the past when there’s nothing left to salvage.

Nothing left to do but heal.

The warmth of Keanu’s kiss eventually disappears, the world around you unpausing, continuing as it was before. You stay standing in place, glancing back and forth between the book you clutched on tightly and the boxes laying on the ground.

Yet in the quietude, the wind still blows. The leaves still fall, and the earth still spins.

Time resumes, bit by bit; passing for life to move forward—

For you to move on.

Part 13

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves @keandrews @greenmanalishi @feminine-machinegun @thehumanistsdiary @lilyette @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @breakthenight @allie1804-fan @partypoison00

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves

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leigh-kelly · 4 years ago

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If She Never Showed Up What Could Have Been

Happy Brittana’s 6th Anniversary my fellow shippers! I’ve had this idea in my head since Folklore came out last summer, and I figured what better time to share it than today? Obviously, it’s based on “The Last Great American Dynasty.”

Her husband was dead. The doctors had warned them about it for months, that his lifestyle was going to kill him with his weak heart, but Bill hadn’t cared. He’d told her one night as they were lying side by side on the beach that he’d rather live the life he had the way he wanted then live a longer one with no fun. Brittany struggled with that a bit. She thought of the sunny day she got off the train in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, so far from home in St. Louis, and how she’d been madly in love. Their love hadn’t waned over the years, even as Bill traveled for work and Brittany did the fundraising that any young socialite was wont to do. But then, she’d woken up and found his lifeless body next to her and something inside her just snapped.

Everyone in town talked about her. Watch Hill wasn’t a very big place and it was difficult to get away from the gossip. More than once, she’d heard someone casually mention that it was her fault that he was dead. She’d let him party too hard, she was too concerned with having fun herself, some even said that she’d poisoned him for his money, despite what the coroner’s report had said. He was the heir to Standard Oil and they seemed to care more about what losing him meant to the company, not what losing him had meant to her. He wasn’t her first husband, but he was the one she’d truly loved and she missed him dearly. But Brittany was Brittany and she wasn’t going to let that end her life, no matter what everyone else said.

In the first months after Bill’s death, perhaps Brittany went a little mad. She was lonely and she was looking for anything to fill the emptiness. One day, she got it in her head that she wanted to swim in a pool full of champagne. Bill would have thought that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and he would have indulged her, so she bought case after case and her groundskeeper drained the pool and filled it up for her bottle by bottle. The bubbles effervesced around her when she got in and she breathed in the sweet alcoholic scent. When she got out, she was sticky from head to toe, but the only way she was surviving was to give into whims like that. The neighbors talked, of course they did, but one, Rachel Berry, was so callous and cruel to her that the next time her dog—a yappy little thing—wandered into her yard, Brittany dipped him in RIT and let him dry a perfect shade of key lime green. After that, everyone had said she’d stolen him, but really, Rachel was always letting the thing out of her sight, and the dog was fine.

After a while, Brittany got tired of Watch Hill. It was the same thing every day, the big salt box house that reminded her of Bill, the gossip that seemed to persist everywhere, so she started going to New York. She’d always loved the ballet and she took in performance after performance. She spent more money than she probably should have, despite the fact that she was rolling in it, but it was the first thing that made her feel alive again. Then, she started flying her friends in from New York and St. Louis and spent even more money entertaining, showing suitors, both men and women, a good time.

It happened when she least expected it. Her friend Mercedes had brought a girl along with her on one of her trips, and when the woman stepped out of the cab, Brittany nearly fell to her knees. Her heart did something that it hadn’t done in too long to count, possibly ever, and she struggled for breath. Standing just outside the house was the most beautiful human being Brittany had ever seen. She wasn’t sure what was darker, her hair or her eyes and she stood with such a poise that Brittany could only dream about having. Her dress was cut low in the front and Brittany’s eyebrows raised a little thinking about what was beneath it. Mercedes came up to the door first and Brittany was stirred from her fantasy when she gave her a hug. Brittany smiled, probably wider than she’d smiled in a year and Mercedes looked at her knowingly.

“A little treat for you, maybe?” Mercedes whispered in her ear and Brittany’s throat went dry.

“I—”

“Hi.” The other woman came up to her, extending her hand. “I hope you don’t mind that Mercedes brought me along. She just couldn’t stop talking about you and I had to meet the famous Brittany Harkness in person, and of course, see this Holiday House that Mercedes is in love with.”

“Oh, um, no, I absolutely don’t mind that you’ve come. There’s plenty of room, though I’m not totally sure who else will be joining us this weekend. I hope you don’t mind a party.”

“That I don’t.” Santana laughed, and the sound was like music to Brittany’s ears.

As Mercedes and Santana settled themselves into the house, the other guests began to arrive. Brittany was so likely to offer plane tickets to her friends that she never knew who was going to take advantage of it and show up, always, much to Rachel Berry’s chagrin. By the time the maids put dinner on the table, it was set for seventeen and Brittany tried to figure out a way to get Santana seated next to her.

“Santana,” She finally said softly as she sipped her old fashioned. “Since this is your first time a Holiday House, I’d love it if you took a place of honor beside me.”

“This house is full of your friends, Brittany, are you sure?

“I’m sure.”

Dinner was, as always, a boisterous affair, and Brittany hardly had the chance to speak two words to Santana that weren’t interrupted by Tina, or Mike, or much to her annoyance, Blaine. But she was staying for the whole weekend and Brittany kept reminding herself that there would be time for all of that once everyone had settled. After dinner was through and the dishes were cleared away, everyone trickled out into the backyard, wanting the cool sea air to settle their stomachs as they began to drink more heavily. Brittany noticed that Santana lingered near her and it caused her heart to flip, wondering, perhaps, if the woman saw something in her as well.

“I’m sorry, you know.” Santana murmured as she and Brittany stood beside the pool. “Mercedes said it hasn’t been easy for you since—you know.”

“Thank you.” Brittany nodded. “I feel like a fish out of water in this place sometimes. But now that I’ve thrown myself into founding the Harkness Ballet, my life seems to have some purpose again.”

“I’m looking forward to the first production. I just adore the ballet.”

“Do you?” Brittany smiled, glad to have found something in common with her. “I wanted to be a dancer when I was young, but my parents warned against it.”

“Would you like to dance now, with me?”

“Oh—”

“I’m sorry, was that too forward? I just…thought I saw you looking at me a certain way.”

“No, no…I was, I mean, I am, I…yes, I would love to dance with you.”

Santana stepped into Brittany’s arms and they danced to the sounds of the cellist who had set himself up on the other end of the pool. It was strange, that Brittany had only known Santana a few hours, but found herself in a state of perfect security once they began to dance together. Brittany looked into Santana’s eyes and found that she longed to kiss her. She couldn’t do it here though, not right in front of everyone, there was something far too taboo about that, but she pulled Santana closer and they shared a soft smile.

Hours later, Brittany had more than her share to drink and everyone had began retiring to their rooms. It was just her and Santana, who still had a martini, who remained in the backyard, and Brittany looked down over the railing of the walkway to see that the ocean looked especially beautiful that night. On so many nights, she’d gone down there herself, sat herself in the sand and just stared out at the wide ocean, wondering what was next for her. In that moment, she had a strange thought, wondering, perhaps, if it was Santana that was next for her. It was an odd thought, definitely, but she just couldn’t seem to shake it.

“I normally go down to the beach at night before bed, what do you think?”

“I could go up to bed if you’d like the time alone.”

“I’d like to share it with you, if that’s alright.” Brittany told her, gently taking her hand.

Together, they walked down to the beach and Brittany found a spot for them in the sand. Santana was clearly very tipsy—not that Brittany wasn’t—and she rested her head on Brittany’s shoulder. Brittany touched her hair and suddenly, Santana lifted her head up, looking Brittany right in the eyes. Even in the moonlight, Brittany could see the softness in them and she pressed her hand to Santana’s cheek.

“Would it be alright—”

“Kiss me, please.” Santana whispered, and Brittany did just that.

#brittana #brittanas6thyear #the last great american dynasty

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underhousearrestblog · 4 years ago

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Not A Trophy Girlfriend | S.S.

(summary) You always wanted to be independent, and Sebastian respected that. But, even though he understood you not wanting him to spend his money on you, sometimes he couldn’t resist spoiling you. You think it’s sweet until you don’t.

(warnings) some swearing

(pairings) Sebastian Stan x reader

(genre) angst, fluff

(just a reminder) Y/N (your name), L/N (your last name), X (your dream job/ your real job/ your future career)

(also) written as if the reader has nephews and nieces, a big family. Don’t worry if you don’t – it doesn’t change the story.

HAPPY READING

You always felt bad accepting gifts, but usually they came from people whom you could offer similar presents, for example, your family and friends. They were never expensive, but thoughtful and heartwarming nevertheless.

It all changed when you got a nice-paying job as X. You could give your parents more expensive gifts, could offer your nieces and nephews things they always wanted. Still, they weren’t super expensive but still you felt good when you were able to help your parents with paying their rent sometimes and throwing your niece a nice birthday party.

Sebastian was the most perfect boyfriend you could’ve got. The simple, heartwarming, lovely things he did for you left you breathless. He would get you a simple bouquet of flowers when coming home after a long day at work. When you would have a long day at work, you always could rely on him cooking sometimes to eat. Simple things mattered.

First talk about money happened, when you both went to Paris to celebrate New Year’s Eve and you insisted on paying for all of your expenses, including plane ticket, hotel, food. He just smiled and was amused, thinking you were joking.

- Babe, I get it. You’re independent. I love that about you. But let me spoil you this time, - he smiled warmly and looked you in the eyes.

In those same eyes you saw joy and hope, and so much love. You knew he liked the fact that he could provide for you, if necessary. You hated the feeling of someone earning your money for you. You put on your happiest smile, while saying:

- I know, babe, but this was a good year. My boss gave me some bonuses, and the salary is great either way.

Seeing you not backing down, Sebastian put both of his hands on your shoulders. He loved seeing you stand up for yourself, but not when it was the matter of him showing his affection for you.

- Babygirl, I’m serious. The plane is leaving in half an hour, and there’s no way you’re getting on that plane by buying your own ticket. We planned this. We talked about this.

- We did talk about going to Paris. We never discussed you treating me like some gold digger.

Sebastian sharply exhaled and put his hands on his hips. His eyes wandered around the room carelessly, but you could practically hear gears turning in his head.

- Look, I just wanna buy myself a ticket plane. What’s the big deal? – you were furious but even more confused by how much you refusing his money has angered him.

- The big deal is that I said I am taking us to France this holiday. So I’m paying.

- Like hell you are! It’s just a freaking plane ticket.

You both were angry, and the tiring eight hour drive here put even more frustration on both of you.

- You’re not getting on that plane by buy…

- You know what? You’re right, - the slight hopeful change glint in his eyes made harder for you to say the following words. – I’m not getting on the plane.

With that you took your bags and left your boyfriend standing in the middle of the line.

That was months ago, and even though you never went to Paris for New Year’s Eve, in that same evening you made peace with each other, not wanting to lose each other.

But now, looking at the earrings in the small box in Seb’s hands, you tried to guess how much money he had spent on this gift. Were those the same earrings you called bautiful while shopping for a suit for him?

Your silence brought insecurity in him. Did you not like them? Were this a different pair? He could’ve sworn these were the same…

- Do you like them? – he looked hopeful, his grin big, but still insecure.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe the fact that you knew – if you refused the gift and started the ‘money talk’ again, this really nice date, the whole evening would be ruined.

So you put on a big, surprised smile, which wasn’t hard, considering that you really did like the earrings.

- I love them, Seb! Thank you, - you hugged him and brushed your fingers through his hair. You could hear a relieved exhale and thanked all the gods that the wine left you sober enough to not ruin the evening.

But the gift still haunted you, so you brought it up when both of you were freshly out of the shower and getting ready for sleep.

When you watched him shave in the bathroom, mirror, you caught the perfect oppurtunity to talk, knowing far too well he won’t leave until he’s done shaving.

- Seb? – you spoke quietly.

- Mhm, - his eyes were focused on the mirror, and you were pretty sure he won’t hear a damn thing.

- How much did the earrings cost? – you spoke softly, as if trying to keep the talking light.

His eyes caught yours in the mirror and his brows furrowed. He put the shaving razor down and turned to you.

- Look, I respect your decision to be completely independent, but you have to understand that that decision leaves no room for me to give you anything. And I want to give you the world.

You signed and opened your mouth, when he continued.

- And I do respect that. I do. But sometimes I wanna do something special for my best girl.

You rolled your eyes at the old-fashioned statement and smiled, but then got all serious all over again.

- How much, Seb? Honey? Please? I just wanna know.

He signed.

- Two hundred.

- TWO HUNDRED? For earrings?

He finally exited the bathroom, came over to you just to press a kiss on your forehead.

- Babe, you have to agree that two hundred dollars for real gold earrings is actually reasonable.

You did agree to that, but it didn’t change the fact that you didn’t like when he spend that much money on you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted you once again.

- Sweetheart, please – just sleep on it. If in the morning you’ll decide that you don’t want my gift, we can return it. Deal?

Deal seemed legit, so you nodded. You could tell he didn’t like telling you how much money he spent on the gift, so you appreciated the gesture.

- Sure, babe.

He smiled and hugged you, convincing himself that there’s no way in hell he’ll let you return the piece of jewelry you liked so much.

The morning started as any Saturday morning did. Seb got up a little earlier so he made the breakfast, you did the dishes, then both of you planned on going grocery shopping a little later. You had some work to do, and Sebastian was reading some script until he got a call from his doctor about some appointment.

- Babe, can you please get my vallet from the bedroom? – he asked, looking up from the planner, as you walked in.

- Sure. Is everything okay?

- Yeah, just need my insurance number for the doctor.

Walking in your bedroom, you instantly knew where to look. Two years living together made you notice things. Like, for instance, that your boyfriend never put his vallet in one place, but always left it somewhere in his clothes

This time you found it in his leather jacket. While grabbing the thing, you accidentally pulled out a little piece of paper. It was a check.

- Dammit! – you whispered under your breath. – Two hundred dollars my ass!

When you walked back into the living room, you didn’t say a thing. This was not the time to start a scene when your boyfriend was speaking to his doctor. But then, when he ended the call, you still didn’t say anything.

The day passed. You’d had many chances to start the conversation but you let them slide, becoming quieter and quieter. By the end of Saturday, you realized you weren’t brave enough to start this fight, because you knew that’s what it will be – a fight.

So, as a person of great wisdom, you decided to take a bottle of wine, go to the roof, get a little drunk and gather enough courage to talk to Sebastian. When the bottle was half empty, the doors from the stairwell flew open, showing a very pissed off Sebastian, but the minute he saw you, his face turned from angry to relieved, and you understood that he was only worried.

- God dammit, Y/N! – he put his hands on his hips and looked down, while breathing heavily. – I was so worried. I thought something happened to you.

- I just came to get some fresh air, - you said, groggily standing up and almost falling down immediately.

Sebastian caught you in his arms just before you could’ve hit the ground. Maybe you were a little bit more drunk than planned.

- You could’ve left a note. A text. Anything, - he hugged you and hid his face in your hair that were now messy.

He was worried, and you got it. But then you remembered the reason why you wanted to come here in the first place, and confusion was quickly replaced by anger.

You put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. He blinked, not fully understanding why you would him to step back.

- Why did you lie? – you wanted you sound angry, but your voice ended up sounding like you wanted to cry.

Maybe you did.

He looked confused and reached his hand up to your cheek, but the moment he touched you, you took his hand off your face.

- Did something happened?

- Yeah, something did. You lied to me about the gift. It didn’t cost two hundred dollars.

He sharply breathed out, and you thought he looked a little… annoyed?

- I don’t wanna talk about money. You know that. I just want to be able to spoil you without you thinking I’m trying to bribe you or buy your love, our show off.

- I don’t wanna talk about money either. I wanna talk about the fact that you lied.

His features looked softer, when he realized he did, in fact, actually lied to you. That was the first time he ever had lied to you. And it broke his heart to realize doing so he had hurt you.

- I’m sorry. I knew you weren’t going to accept earrings that cost that much. I just wanted to show you I paid attention when you said you liked them in the store the other day. Nothing more, nothing less.

You felt yourself calming down when he looked this vulnerable. It’s not that he tried to buy your love or affection. Little gifts here and there weren’t the only way he showed you his love.

- I’m sorry too for not telling you right after I found out, but postponing this conversation for as long as possible.

You tiptoed to kiss him. He was like a breath of fresh air to you. You were like a breath of fresh air to each other.

- But from now on no lying, deal?

- Deal.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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escxpiism · 4 years ago

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( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

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

QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard!

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter?

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all.

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh.

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her.

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite??

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know??

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead.

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps.

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess??

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps.

VERY private person! has had enough public standing!

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s.

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

#masters.intro #alice | intro !#this took me like....... 2hrs 2 write so i do indeed think my mind is fooling me and actually lagging behind.

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

My heart lives in Texas

[A late (and final) 12 days of Christmas fic]

Pairing: Fred x fem!reader

Request: Can you please write something with a female reader from a different country thats friends with and crushing on Fred and she can’t afford to go back to her home country to visit her family so Fred invites her to come to Texas with her to see Freds family or something?

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Mention of homophobia.

You had moved to the U.S. from your home country a year or so ago. It had been quite an adjustment at first. Angel investigations had taken you on once they realised you were fluent in several demon-languages. You had studied extensively when you lived back home.

You arrived at a similar time as Fred returned from Pylea. You bonded instantly. Fred was a sweetheart, and you adjusted back into life together. She leaned on you, she trusted you instantly. There was a calming aura around you and ever since she returned she leaned on you. You became close friends.

You both moved into Angel’s hotel and spent most days and nights together. You whispered through your traumas, comforting each other. You would often share a bed, cuddling together. So close with her arms draped around you.

You told each other it was platonic, it was because you needed each other. Cared about each other. You could only sleep so long as the other was in bed beside you.

But you both had feelings growing inside. Such deep and unending feeling they made you dizzy. Neither of you spoke of the way you felt, because things may change. And change frightened you both. Because you had gotten comfortable in your routine. In the way that you lived now, together.

Your friends tried to nudge you into speaking about your feelings, everyone knew that you were in love. It was plain as day.

Angel had asked you to come into his office. It was coming up to Christmas and everyone was discussing their plans in the main room. Fred was talking about going back to her parent’s house which is something she hadn’t been able to do in a long while.

“Y/n, I’m only asking you in here ‘cause we’re friends… right?” he added that on the end a little unsure and you nodded with a little smile.

“Right!” You assured him with a small smile.

“I’m not great with advice, but I just wanted to say somethin’. If you, uh, don’t mind” He started, you and Angel had become close and he wanted his friends to be happy, “You and Fred, you’re meant for each other. I’ve seen a lot and it’s not often you find something like you have with her”

“You can all tell, can’t you? That I like her?”

“We can tell you love each other. Go for it, at least some of us deserve to be happy” He murmured, alluding to the low mood of the rest of the team and himself.

“I don’t want to push her into anything… she’s special” You said softly. Angel nodded, staring into the distance as if he knew the exact feeling you harboured intimately. You were about to speak, offer him a friendly ear if he wanted to talk when there was shouts for you both in the other room

Another case. Another demon to fight.

You managed to complete the case after a lot of hardship. The demon had terrorised the hotel, taking all of the decorations and incinerating them in the melee.

When you were all sat around, exhausted surrounded by piles of smoking ash, most from vampires and the rest from the Christmas trees, Cordelia commented that at least you had the holidays to look forward to. Angel had insisted everyone take time off.

You were very quiet at this. You had thought about going home but it just wasn’t possible this year. The cost of tickets and the guilt you’d face should something horribly go wrong in California.

Fred saw you thinking, your brow furrowed slightly and she worried. She slipped her arms, looping them with your own as she leaned against your shoulder. Your eyes kept closing, you were blinking slowly. She whispered, telling you it was time to go to bed.

She led the way, taking your hand in hers as everyone watched you go. They understood and had stopped commenting on your affection. They had all silently agreed to let you figure it out naturally.

You slid into bed and she got in beside you. Your arms were open for her as they always here. She cuddled up to you, settling in her usual place. The space between you felt smaller and smaller each night.

She spoke softly, recounting her day as you managed to stay awake long enough to speak your mind too. She asked then, after a moment of silence what was troubling you. About the season.

And you explained, near poured your entire heart out about all your emotions. You were suddenly wide awake and retelling every worry and anxiety you had over leaving and returning home.

You couldn’t bare it if it had changed at all and yet if it was the same it would perhaps be harder to return. Los Angeles was your adopted home now, you wanted to see everyone but the cost was too much and she frowned.

You didn’t wish to be alone but you weren’t able to go. You couldn’t explain it any other way.

As you slept, she started thinking about her own thoughts. She had been reluctant to leave you, she had felt torn between her family Christmas and spending time with you. As the light of dawn started to filter through, she made a decision.

Once she realised you couldn’t go home for Christmas it wasn’t even a question that you would come with her. She had bought the tickets without thinking and insisted that she couldn’t celebrate without you there. You meant too much.

She of course gave you the choice, but you didn’t even have to think about it. You said yes, instantly.

You left together on the plane. You touched down on Christmas Eve. You felt like you might see Santa himself as you flew through the sky. It was a wonderful sight and she held your hand almost the entire way. She gushed and gave you her entire family history as you made your way there.

You went straight to her parent’s house. They had seen her since she returned from Pylea but not very often. They were so excited that she was coming for Christmas.

You walked over the threshold and were immediately greeted by her parents. They presumed you were dating already by the way she spoke about you. Fred had come out already when she was younger and her parents were so lovely about it.

“Aw, y’all look so cute together!” Her mother smiled wide and hugged you both at the same time.

“Mom, it’s not like that” There was a little glint in her parents eye as they exchanged a look at her words. It was only a matter of time, in their eyes. Fred then walked towards her father smiling, “Hey Dad”

She hugged her Dad as you smiled at them both. They both embraced you as if you were already family. They were so friendly and so down to earth - you loved them. And luckily, they absolutely loved you.

You had an evening meal. In the Burkle house, the Christmas Eve meal was almost more important than the one the next day. Because it was usually the three of them, making it more intimate with the extended family arriving tomorrow. Apparently there was a lot of them. Her Mom had been working hard to cook and her father had laid the table for you all.

You set your bags away and washed up before you ate. You smiled at Fred’s childhood home before you descended the stairs again and sat around the table while Mrs Burkle served up. You complimented the way the house was decorated and had her mother almost blushing at your words.

As the meal went on, there were plenty of subtle prodding to see what kind of relationship you were truly in.

“We’re so pleased to finally meet you, Y/n. Fred has said so much about you on the phone” Her father nodded as he chewed on his meal.

“You know our neighbours down the street have two adopted children now. Isn’t that wonderful? They’re amazing Moms” Fred’s Mom continued to gush as Fred shifted slightly at her words despite her best intentions. She then leaned into the table a little more to say to you, “Our Winifred has always been such a caring soul, we’re glad she’s found someone just as kind”

“Oh, thank you Mrs Burkle. This meal really is amazing” You smiled as Fred slipped her hand under the table, resting her hand on your thigh. She kept it there through the rest of the meal, rubbing her thumb every so often. She wanted contact with you, she didn’t want to be away for you for a moment.

After the meal ended, you made sure you assisted Fred’s Mom and helped clear away the dishes.

“And she’s polite too!” You heard her whisper too loud to Fred before she followed you into the kitchen. It made you smile, even if you hadn’t managed to speak to Fred about it alone that at least her family thought you were good enough for her daughter.

You helped wash up and engaged Fred’s Mom in conversation while you assisted her. She made you really smile. You turned to leave, going to find Fred, your heart a magnet to hers. You couldn’t bare to be apart. But her mother took you by the hand, telling you that you are part of her family. That you would always be welcome here.

She also warned you not to mind any of the extended family tomorrow if they say anything rude about you and Fred. In fact, she promised they would be sent out of the house quicker than you could say Happy Christmas.

You smiled at the floor, you really did feel like one of them already. She squeezed your arm again before nodding and letting you go and find your Fred.

You stayed in the living room with her parents for a while before retiring to her childhood room. They provided a camp bed for one of you on the floor, but nobody in the house was convinced it was going to be used that night.

Fred had an idea, she wanted to show you something she would do when she was younger. She opened her balcony. It was only small but she laid blankets out so that you could stargaze together. She rested against the wall and she gestured for you to join her, which meant you were now sitting between her legs. She wrapped you in a light blanket and you nestled together despite it not being that cold.

You and Fred sat together, the cool breeze was welcome. You leaned back, your head resting against her chest. She stroked your hair softly before sliding her hands down to hold yours.

“Your Mom thinks that we’re dating” You said softly, your words so light they danced away with the low breeze that whistled around you. Your hands weaved between each other as you leaned further back against her.

“Mhm, she does that with every friend I’ve had since grade school” Fred chuckled, which was true. But, her Mom had a lot more reason to think so this time.

“She’s going to fight your homophobic relatives for us” You chuckled.

There was a silence. Fred shifted under you slightly. You moved up to sit and turned to look at her. You worried that you had said too much, spoken of it as if it were laughable. You hadn’t meant it that way at all.

She looked down slightly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she realised what was coming. You could easily hurt her here. Tell her that this wasn’t what she hoped it was.

But, of course you would never do that.

“Fred, I haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to push you, after everything you’ve been through” You began your speech and shuddered despite the lack of cold, these were words you had practiced in your mind for such a long time it didn’t feel real that you were saying them now, “I love you and the biggest gift that you could give me this year would- would be if you would be my girlfriend?” You asked, your voice caught in your throat at the end.

Her eyes shone, watering with all of this emotion. It was made even more prominent in the moonlight. She couldn’t form words, she just nodded yes vigorously. You embraced, wrapped around each other on the balcony, a tear falling from her eye now. This was all she had ever wanted. You pressed your lips to hers, only briefly, there would be a whole night and beyond for more. This moment was yours. And you were going to cuddle under the stars once more.

You held her so tightly, laying her down. You were flat on your back with her tucked into your side now. You couldn’t take your eyes off her now, the stars would be nothing compared to her.

She whispered that she would stargaze at night, hoping that her soulmate would be looking up at the stars too, wherever they were. That one day, she would return to this balcony with the one she loved and share blankets this way. That one of the first weeks, when you had first starting sharing a bed she had pictured watching the stars with you.

You spent the rest of the holiday period, and beyond, exploring your romantic relationship. She took you around the places she used to frequent. You both struggled to leave, this place would be special to you both know. It was perfect and you swore to her from that day that a piece of your heart would always live with hers in Texas.

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fullsunalicia · 5 years ago

Note

hi!!! if requests are open can you write a crazy rich asians au with renjun ? thank u 💗 u write so well !! hope you have a great day !!

rags and riches - HRJ

renjun has always avoided talking about family with you. but when he jokingly drops to one knee and asks you to accompany him to a wedding after scaring you to death, you are led into the prosperous world of the huangs - you are just not sure if you‘re actually welcome there.

kind of mixed au, renjun is an idol but his family is still wealthy and they expect him to take over the family business when his career is done!

thank you so much for your request! it sounded so fun, and i loved writing it, though i’m kinda unsure on how it turned out! had to change lots so it wouldn’t be exactly like the movie, but i hope you will still enjoy it! 🤍

Huang Renjun loves you with all his heart. Always has, always will. There is not a moment where his eyes don‘t seem to sparkle as he watches you, his touch always careful and loving as if he was afraid of breaking you. Nonetheless, Renjun has never spoken about family with you, since it was a sensitive topic to him. And you have never bothered him, because you know there are families in the world that don‘t quite work as nicely as yours for example.

So when he begs you to accompany him to Dong Sicheng‘s wedding, where his entire family will be present, you are suffice to say, very shocked. (Not only did he scare you with a fake proposal, but he also topped it off by wanting to introduce you to his parents. Renjun should be glad you didn‘t pass out on the spot.)

„You‘re impossible,“ you mumble, though Renjun still hears you over all the noise in the restaurant. He filters it all out, all of his concentration and attention on you. It makes your heart flutter, and it makes it very hard to stay mad at him. „Absolutely impossible. Now I don‘t want to marry you, ever.“

„So harsh.“ Renjun scoops up a little bit of the dessert you both ordered and offers it to you. It‘s a little silly, but you like being fed by him, because this way you can ignore him and also still enjoy your food. He snickers as you welcome the fork in your mouth with a glare. „I‘m sorry! I like being dramatic once in a while. If you want me to, I‘ll get you a ring and make you Huang (y/n) right now. My mother is going to love you anyways.“

„No, absolutely not!“ Alarmed, you look up, fingers moving on their own accord to clasp around his wrist. Renjun drops the fork on his plate and cups your chin with his now free hand. The admiration in his eyes makes you feel a little dizzy, and you wonder how you‘ve managed to find the perfect man despite being having your heart broken so many times. With Renjun, you‘ve hit the jackpot, and you don‘t want to gamble your luck with him by marrying the man without his mother‘s blessing.

„So against marrying me? Ouch.“

„I‘d love to marry you, you big idiot.“ The words make a big grin appear on Renjun‘s face. So cunning. He knows exactly what to say to have you do his bidding, casually masking the fact that he‘s just as whipped for you as you are for him. You kiss his thumb when it swipes over your lower lip. He beams. „But I think if you‘re going to introduce me to your mother, we should wait with the marrying. Otherwise, she‘s going to disown you.“

You don‘t notice the way Renjun‘s face drops, because you‘re busy scraping the rest of your shared dessert from the plate. When you look up again and hold it to his lips, the grimace is already gone, replaced by a smirk, and you blush when his tongue swipes off the cream that remained on the offered fork. „What for? I‘m bringing her the perfect girl back home.“

As you both bicker back and forth as to how his mother would react, someone who knows Huang Renjun‘s face from their home in China passes you both and sneakily takes a picture. They don‘t know who you are, but they‘re going to find out - after all, the famous Huang heir is head over heels in love with you.

And nothing stays a secret long in the world of the rich.

❀ ❀ ❀

„This is a joke, right, Renjun? Renjun?“

Your boyfriend tugs you along, and you want to kiss the stupid smirk off his face. It‘s really infuriating that no matter what he does, it‘s attractive. „Come on, (y/n), we don‘t want to miss our flight.“

„Our first class flight? The one we can‘t afford?“

Warm fingers interlock with yours so Renjun can pull you to him. The moment he wraps an arm around your waist, you‘re putty in his hands, but you still crane your neck to look at him in confusion. This wasn‘t what you expected when your mother and you packed snacks for your expected economy flight so you wouldn‘t waste money on the ridiculous expensive ones. „I‘m an idol,“ is the only thing Renjun says. „Why wouldn‘t I be able to afford it?“

„You don‘t even fly first class with the Dreamies. Why would you be able to fly it now..?“

Really, you don‘t know what you‘ve gotten yourself into. But you can‘t complain when Renjun cups your face and kisses you like his life depends on it, even though you know he‘s just trying to distract you right now. And it works.

You want to kick him.

The rest of your power walk to the plane is spent silent, since the airport is packed with people and you wouldn‘t understand each other anyway. Your jaw almost drops when the flight attendant offers you champagne, but thanks to Renjun guiding you along, you manage to take it and follow him quietly into the private suite. Yes, you read correctly. Private. Suite.

„Please don‘t tell me you‘re secretly a yakuza and that‘s why you suddenly have so much money.“

Renjun laughs, but he doesn‘t allow you to sit in the seat that was reserved for you. He pulls you on his lap and buries his face in your neck, weirdly affectionate. You blame it on him trying to get out off this without sparing too much details. But there‘s no turning back now - he‘s already let slip too much, and you‘re getting kinda nervous at what you‘re being confronted with right now. „I‘m not part of the yakuza, baby,“ he answers, and you sigh in relief. He pinches your thigh as punishment that you‘d actually believe that. „My family has connections to this airline, friends they‘ve known for a long time. Really, I got the tickets for cheap.“

Hopefully, this ridiculous suite would cover you enough so nobody would see you guys clinging to each other. Renjun lets you take his face in between your hands, head falling back in obedience as you try to make him look you in the eyes. He looks like a prince straight out of the many paintings he creates in private, the flawed perfection of someone who was human, attractive and real. Renjun is what you call ethereal.

„You never told me what your parents do,“ you say, guilt already pooling in your stomach because you mentioned his parents. Bothering him is the least thing you want to do, but you‘re going to meet his family and you don‘t even know what they work as, what their life consists of. How they raised Renjun. Obviously, they must have done a very good job, because to you, Renjun is stunning. A good heart, with good intentions. Respectful. With humor. Confident.

Renjun hums. „Nothing interesting. Just... investments, real estate, that stuff.“

Your heart drops. Suddenly, the man who‘s lap you‘re sitting on doesn‘t want to look you in the eyes anymore, a fake yawn tumbling from his lips. „We should sleep. When we wake up, we‘ll already be there.“

„Your family‘s rich?“

He shifts below you, your waist suddenly his anchor. „Well, we can‘t complain.“

„That‘s what rich people always say,“ you respond almost immediately. „Oh, my god, Renjun. Why didn‘t you tell me? I mean, it doesn‘t matter to me, money‘s not everything... but it would‘ve been nice to know what I‘m getting into. What I should be expecting.“

He sighs, dejected. At the start of your relationship, Renjun had pleaded you to not ask much about his family because he preferred telling you stuff on his own accords. You‘ve heard lots about his favorite cousins and you remember sleepy retellings of things that happened in his childhood, but never ever had Renjun mentioned that his family was well-off. The thought makes your chest tighten. What if they were the stuck-up type? What if they didn‘t like you because you were still a student in university, barely submitting your essays on time?

The plane stutters in the air, champagne sloshing against your glasses dangerously close to the rim. Renjun grips your waist tighter. Almost as if you were apologizing for the intruding question about his parents, you lower your face to his so you can kiss his cheek, but Renjun moves his head and kisses you properly. The sound of suprise you make is drowned out by him pulling you closer, warm hands you‘ve known for many years moving to rest on your lower back and push you against him. Your own hands abandon his face so you can press them against the wall behind him and prop yourself up. Renjun tastes like alcohol and the chewing gum he had popped in his mouth earlier.

You part from each other when the glasses of champagne tip over and ruin the seat that was supposed to be yours, but Renjun only laughs it off and chases your lips again. This time, he doesn‘t stop until you‘ve forgotten your own name and the lingering shock of learning about his family‘s social standing.

❀ ❀ ❀

After a very warm welcome from Sicheng and his soon-to-be bride, they take you guys out to have dinner. You find out that her name is Yijie, and she‘s just as affectionate as you. The only difference is that no matter who it is, Yijie showers them with love and praise, while you need a while to warm your engine up and get to know others. That must be the reason Sicheng has fallen in love with her. She‘s so kind and cute, you almost want to coo at her.

Your dinner is spent on a streetfood market, where Renjun shows you around. A lot of people recognize him and start chatting him up, and the tips of Renjun‘s ears turn red when they speak to him in dialect and compliment him on having grown up well. The atmosphere is great. Before leaving the plane, you had been terribly afraid of not fitting in, but now, it‘s like you‘ve always been a part of their little group. Yijie rests her head on your shoulder while you feed Renjun and Sicheng feeds her, your boyfriend conversing with his childhood friend happily. It makes you happy, aswell. Happy for him to be home. To reconcile. To have family to come back to.

„You know,“ Yijie whispers in your ear. „I‘ve never seen Renjun so happy before. He hasn‘t stopped smiling since he walked out of the check-out.“

It‘s your turn to blush. Yijie giggles as you reach for your beer to cool down, and she sits up so she can look at you properly. „He‘s just glad to be home,“ yo mumble, but you can‘t deny that your heartbeat seems to speed up. You love Renjun. With every fiber of your being.

Your new friend waves you off. She seems absolutely sure with her assumption, and Yijie even nudges your shoulder as if to tease you. „Look at him!“ she tells you. „I‘m so glad he found you. You both seem like a perfect fit. Both Sicheng and I have been waiting for this for a long time, so thank you for blessing him with your existence. He‘s a lucky guy.“

The words make tears prick at your eyes. You hadn‘t expected such a warm welcome, so afraid of being rejected by people Renjun treasures and values. Silly you. They‘re accepting you with open arms.

But his friends are only the warm-up. You‘re yet to meet his mom.

❀ ❀ ❀

You‘re woken up by sneaky fingers dipping beneath the stolen shirt you‘ve plucked from Renjun yesterday, just seconds before the alarm rings that mentioned man set for himself. He groans and decides to ignore it, just like he ignores your „Get up, Sicheng‘s probably waiting for you“ so he can bunch up your shirt and leave kisses on your stomach.

Both of you had plans for today, and the next time he‘d be seeing you was in the evening to join him for the party his mother was holding. While Renjun would be busy fulfilling his duties as a best man, you‘d be paying a visit to a good college friend of yours who‘s been begging you for a long time come stay at her residence in China. Renjun‘s alarm continues to ring as he makes his way down to your hips, but you stop him just before you‘re unable to say no.

„Stand up, you fake friend.“

„Oh, come on.“ Renjun raises his head to look at you with a pout. The sunlight hits him just right, making his features look angelic, surreal. You wish eyes would be able to take pictures; you‘d want to capture this moment forever. „I‘m able to get you off and still be punctual to my meeting with Sicheng.“

„Go get ready before I kick you out of bed.“

„So bossy.“ Without warning, his fingers dip into the waistline of your panties, and he lets it snap against your skin, a loud laugh escaping his lips when you tackle him and pull him into the warm sheets. Laughter morphs into screams when you dig your fingers into his pretty waist to tickle him, hands grabbing your wrists to hold them together and pin them against his chest. „Rude,“ he gasps out.

You straighten your back and straddle his waist. His eyes roam over your curves, the wish to put his hands on them and grip them tightly evident in his eyes(he‘s weirdly infatuated with them), but he can‘t let you go without being tickled again. You grin. Game over.

Renjun rolls his eyes. „I‘ll get you back for this another time. Now, get off. I have to go be a best man.“

„Oh, really?“ Your wrists feel featherlight as he lets you go and you roll off, grabbing the sheets to cocoon yourself into them again. The mattress dips beneath Renjun as he stands up and stretches, the muscles in his back feathering after every move. „You should have told me. I thought that alarm was your daily reminder for morning sex.“

„Oh, shut up,“ he snickers, and you watch him get dressed. „When are you visiting Yuqi?“

Yuqi and you didn‘t share a single class, but you‘ve managed to bond over your addiction to coffeine. Over the span of two years, you guys had grown as close as sisters, and she‘s already been to several family gatherings of yours. She‘s your best friend in the entire world, and that‘s why she‘s been begging you to come meet her parents aswell, as they‘ve been eager to meet the girl who‘s been saving her daughter‘s ass before every exam. Though, she’s only met Renjun briefly. He didn’t visit your shared dorm often and Yuqi rarely accompanies you both when you hangout, because she hates thirdweeling.

You close your eyes. It‘s way too early in the morning, and you silently curse out Renjun‘s alarm for waking you up. „I don‘t know. I think I‘m invited for lunch..? I‘m pretty excited. I‘ve never ever seen Yuqi‘s parents before, so this is pretty new for me.“

„Just use it as practice,“ you hear Renjun say. The blankets are pulled off your body in a matter of seconds, and your boyfriend leans over you again for a goodbye kiss. You giggle into it as Renjun caresses the side of your face. „You‘ve never met mine, either. This way, you can atleast be a little bit prepared for this evening.“

You later learn that meeting Yuqi‘s parents was indeed good preparation. The gates of the Song reside open to reveal a giant mansion, and your tiny best friend rushes out to fling herself into your arms. You wrap your arms as tightly around her as you can, welcoming the immense warmth Yuqi always seems to emit.

„You came!“ Yuqi beams, slipping her hand into yours. Her dogs followed her outside, and they were now excitedly jumping and clawing at your knees. You want to reach out and scratch them behind their ears, but someone whistles as a signal for them to return. When you look up, you catch a glimpse of Yuqi‘s mother, who‘s as excited as her daughter. „There she is!“ the elderly woman cheers while she lifts her dogs onto her arms. She looks exactly like Yuqi, who now tugs you into this giant house. „I‘m so glad to meet my daughter‘s hero. Without you, she‘ll never be able to finish university.“

„Oh, thank you for the encouragement, mom. You‘re so kind. Is there anything else you‘d like to praise me on? My taste in friends, maybe?“

You giggle and card your fingers through Yuqi‘s hair. Both women are grinning at you heartily, and the scent of freshly cooked food lures you into the room at the end of the golden-decorated hall. Everything here screams expensive. Speaking of, you‘re pretty sure that just one of these jade lamps would be enough to pay off your rent for the month. Maybe it shouldn‘t suprise you that Renjun didn‘t mention his family‘s money, just like Yuqi did. After all, they are not their family, but their own person. Even though Yuqi‘s parents seemed to represent wealth, you know Yuqi pays everything herself, picking up more shifts than she can to be financially independent and make herself proud. You definitely are.

The food melts on your tongue, and Yuqi keeps loading more dishes onto your plate. Apparently to the Song parents, you‘re way too thin, and it‘s good that you came to eat. They‘re the perfect people to gain weight with. They laugh at that, but Yuqi just rolls her eyes.

„Well, (y/n), I don‘t see a ring on your finger!“ her father exclaims as he passes you some dumplings. Chinese food is the best, and even though you should probably slow down, the food‘s just too good. „You‘d be the perfect wife for our Yukhei. Isn‘t that right, Xuxi? These are the kind of women you should be pursuing. Smart and confident! Not those silly dancers you bring home every weekend.“

Yukhei doesn‘t seem to hear you. He‘s too concentrated on his phone, and you think you can see him swiping through Tinder. Yikes.

„Dad, I already told you,“ Yuqi reminds her father, and she opens her mouth to accept the raddish you‘re offering her. Obedient, she follows your order of chewing before talking. „She‘s here with her boyfriend. The boyfriend she‘s going to accompany to his friend‘s wedding, remember?“

„Doesn‘t matter! No ring, no problem.“ The elderly man nudges his son‘s shoulder, who only looks up quickly, furrows his brows at the sight of you and pays attention to his phone again. „I suppose it would be good to know the competition, Xuxi. Who‘s your boyfriend, little (y/n)? Maybe we know him. Word spreads fast in cities like these!“

„Yeah!“ Yuqi‘s mother chimes in, in the middle of feeding one of the dogs a nugget she took from the younger children. „We‘ve got some connections. There‘s not a family we don‘t know of!“

„Oh, well..“ You set your chopsticks down, smiling a little awkwardly. This situation was rather weird, but her parents were still very nice, so. „His name is Huang Renjun.“

At the mention of your boyfriend‘s name, suddenly the entire table‘s attention seems to be you. Yuqi drops fork and spoon loudly, and even Yukhei seems to have abandoned his phone in shock.

You scratch your head. His family doesn‘t have a bad reputation, do they? Maybe he does belong to the yakuza..

„The Renjun you‘re dating is Huang Renjun?“ Yuqi is the first to find her voice again. She sounds like she‘s in awe. You nod, confused. Shouldn‘t she know that? You speak of him like, always. But come to think of it, they‘ve never talked properly and maybe you didn‘t use last names. „Yeah...“ you trail off. „I‘m going to meet his mother at the party today. Why, what‘s wrong?“

„And you‘re wearing that? Oh, my god, (y/n), I can‘t believe you.“ Yuqi stands up, her precious meal forgotten. „I‘m going to have to take care of you, you lost cause. You should have told me this in advance!“

„The Huangs are the richest family there is!“ Yuqi‘s mom finally explains, and all the blood rushes into your cheeks. „They‘ve built their own empire here in Jilin. I can‘t even count the many buildings that belong to their company! The Huangs have lived here for the long time, and they have business branches in Korea, China and Japan. Do you know what old money is? They basically invented that term. There‘s rich, super rich, and then lastly the Huangs.“

All the information that‘s being poured onto you just makes you kind of want to vomit. Not a single word of that was ever mentioned to you by Renjun, and now you‘re terrified of stepping into that dinner party. After all, you‘re just (y/n), a part-time waitress and full-time student in Seoul. You and Yuqi are barely able to cover rent. You‘re lucky to get some free time in between studying and working. And the Huangs... You breathe out, your breath stuttering in your lungs out of nervousness.

Your best friends notices almost immediately, a glare etched into her eyes as she leads you away from the table and towards her dressing room. „Hey!“ she yells, breaking you out of that dark cloud in your mind where you had started to doubt your worth. „Just because they‘re filthy rich and you‘re not doesn‘t mean you‘re not worth of seeing them. You‘re dating Renjun, not his parents. If they‘ve got a problem with that, they can suck my dick. Renjun loves you. That‘s what matters.“

„Thank you,“ you mumble. She flicks your forehead. „Ouch!“

„Drop the emo-mode,“ she deadpans. „I‘ve got like two hours to make a miracle out of you. Why didn‘t you take that backless dress I bought you for your birthday? That would‘ve been perfect to flaunt your goddess body at that party!“

„I didn‘t want to meet his parents half-naked!“

„Why?“ Yuqi pinches your stomach. „You‘re hot.“

As you sit down on an armchair, she digs through the many dresses and clothes for the perfect outfit for you. Everything in here seems to sparkle, and you wonder how many gifts Yuqi has made you that were secretly really valuable without you knowing. Now you feel guilty about the stuff you‘ve been buying her... even though they were expensive to you.

Every now and then, she asks you about Renjun, or your spring break, and you‘re glad she doesn‘t mention his parents again. She spends the afternoon dolling you up like you were her favorite barbie, and she claps excitedly when she‘s done. „Oh my god, please cheat on Renjun with me,“ she begs you, and you jokingly punch her shoulder.

You do feel really good right now, though. The dress fits nicely, with a cleavage that didn‘t reveal too much. Most of your attire was discarded by Yuqi as she redressed you, but she left Renjun‘s necklace alone. He had gifted it to you on your third anniversary.

The drive to the party seems to wake up all the nerves in your brain again, nervousness flooding your entire consciousness. Even Yuqi seems to fidget, because „the Huangs are just that kind of intimidating“. That doesn‘t really help you.

„Oh my god,“ Yuqi mumbles under her breath. „Are you sure you entered the right address? I feel like someone‘s going to jump us out here and I‘ll die without ever seeing the legendary Huang residence.“

„Yuqi, your house is enormous.“

„Yes, it is. But my house and the Huang house? That‘s like comparing it to the fucking Queen‘s palace. It‘s not the same!“

„Will you stop dwelling on the fact that you‘re all rich?“

„You wanna be my sugar baby, (y/n)ie? I pay really well.“

„Shut that mouth or pay our rent, Song Yuqi,“ you tell her, and she laughs out loud. The laugh suddenly comes to a halt though when she yells out in suprise and you flinch in your seat.

„That‘s a guard“, Yuqi screeches as she looks out her window. Lo and behold, there‘s an intimidating man standing there who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Is... that a gun in his hands?... „Right. A guard. A guard for the Huangs. Very normal. Yeah.“ She breathes in and out, opening her window just an inch so the mysterious man can talk. „I, uhh, I‘m bringing Huang Renjun‘s girlfriend? (l/n) (y/n)? Tiny and really easy to embarrass? I mean Renjun by that.“

The man seems unfazed. He leans back from Yuqi‘s window and checks the list in his hands for your name, before he waves you guys along and the gates open, though you can barely see that in the darkness. Yuqi squeaks out a thank you and quickly gets the car moving.

„Oh, my god,“ you gasp and lean forward. Yuqi was right. This really is the Queen‘s palace.

A few moments later you finally reach the entrance, and you almost pass out at the sight Renjun presents you. Dressed in a suit and his hair styled, he approaches the car with a big grin. The door‘s already open when he reaches for you because you couldn‘t wait to get out and fall into his arms. He pulls you out of the car and right into his arms, lips finding yours on instinct. „You‘re beautiful,“ he whispers, all his love and honesty poured into the words. „Absolutely stunning. If I could, I‘d grab my brushes right now to paint you.“

„You kiss-up,“ you respond, accusing him in a joking manner, but really you‘re too busy admiring him. As if they were acting on their own, your fingers grip his tuxedo. „You clean up really well, I‘d say.... Rather ravishing.“

„Eat me,“ comes the instant answer, and you slap his shoulder. Idiot.

A cough is heard from inside the car. Renjun lets you go temporarily to peak his head through the door. „Fancy seeing you here, Song,“

„Fancy finding out that you‘re a Huang after you‘ve been dating my best friend for years,“ she huffs, but she‘s not being serious. Nonetheless, Renjun scratches the back of his head. “Should‘ve known something was wrong with you, Renjun. But anyways... I‘ve brought you your princess.“

„Thank you for taking care of her and driving here.“ Your boyfriend sounds serious, sincere. Yuqi laughs. „You‘re welcome, mate,“ she hums, „It really wasn‘t a problem. Then, I‘ll be on my way...“

„Would you like to stay for dinner?“

„Oh, I actually have dinner plans, I wouldn‘t like to impose...“

„You know you‘re always welcome, Yuqi, any friend of (y/n)‘s-„

„Of course I‘ll stay for dinner, what kind of question,“ interrupts Yuqi and slides out of the car, dropping the keys in some butler‘s hand who‘s going to park the car for her, and Renjun breaks out into laughter. That was to be expected. While Yuqi digs through the trunk of her car, Renjun turns to you, excited smile on his lips. “Are you ready to meet my mom?”

You try to smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, fear eating at your heart. “Of course I am. I want to thank her for blessing me with you.”

❀ ❀ ❀

You take everything you said about Yuqi’s hands back. This place is too big. You feel like you’ll get lost the second Renjun lets go of you, but there’s so many things you want to see and try. Desserts, finger food, alcohol. Lots of people came to attend the gathering, laughing, chattering away. No matter how focussed they were on a conversation, the second you stepped into a room, all eyes were on you.

“Come on,” Renjun whispers into your ear. “My mom’s probably in the kitchen. She wants everything to be perfect.”

The closer you get to the kitchen, the faster your heart pounds. If this continues, you’re going to die from a heart attack the second you look Mrs Huang in the face. There’s no turning back. You’re already here.

Mrs Huang is easily recognizable. Straight back, the same sharp eyes your boyfriend possesses. She’s dressed in a very beautiful gown, and it glimmers in the flickering lights of the kitchen; the light of the lightbulbs isn’t very strong. Her eyes meet yours only briefly before she firmly sets them onto her son and smiles at him, not looking at you again.

Uh oh.

“Renjun,” she says, and when she leans back, you see the pride in her eyes. Every mother would be proud to have such a perfect-picture son. The knowledge that he was perfect and adored by enemies and friends. Both mother and son’s smile is dazzling. Now you know who he got it from. “I’m so glad you could make it. You’re a year late.”

“Mom,” he laughs her off, hands holding hers tightly. Not for long, though. As always, an arm wraps around your waist to press your body against Renjun’s, and he drops a featherlight kiss to your temple. His mother doesn’t react. Not a smile, not a glare. But the second he looks at her again, a smile is plastered onto her lips. You lower your eyes. She doesn’t like you. “I’m busy. I know you expect me to take over dad’s work right away, but I like my job. And you like hearing me sing. Isn’t this a win-win situation?”

“Your dad’s not getting any younger, Renjun.” She reaches out to hold his shoulder. Since you walked into to the room, the woman hasn’t looked at you again. “You know we’d love to have you home.”

“I want you to meet someone special to me.” An honest smile spreads on your lips, but the one on hers isn’t very real. For Renjun, you still offer her your hand. “Mom, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is my mom. She’s been waiting for me to bring someone back home for a very long time, and I told her I was waiting for the right person.”

You don’t deserve Renjun - he’s too kind. While your cheeks heat up, you still never look away from his mother, and she grips your hand a little bit too tight. “I’m so glad to finally meet you,” you tell her.

“I’m sorry Renjun’s father couldn’t make it,” she responds. You try to ignore the way it stings that she doesn’t seem to accept you as her son’s girlfriend. “He was caught up with some work in Osaka, but I’m sure he’ll greet you next time. Renjun, could you go check on the dumplings while I get to know your girlfriend better?”

Renjun rolls his eyes and leans forward to kiss his mom on the cheek. “Please give her back to me in on piece,” he says. The sentence itself is supposed to be a joke, but Renjun sounds too serious. With that, he slides past her and disappears between the many cooks who are working in this heat.

You feel like you stepped into a lion’s den.

“So, (y/n).” Renjun’s mother crosses her arms in front of her chest, the pleasant smile wiped away from her face. “I’ve heard you’re still studying at an university. What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh, I’d like to become a teacher or a professor,” you explain. Though you’re not sure how this is going to work out if your grades don’t start to pick up soon. “My mother is one, aswell, so I always wanted to follow in her footsteps. She’s always working so hard. I aspire to be someone like that.”

“And your father?”

You gulp. “My ... father died before I was born.”

“I see. I’m very sorry to hear that,” Mrs Huang says, but she looks more disinterested than sorry. “Miss (l/n)... I’m sure you’re aware what kind of daughter in law I expect for the Huang family, don’t you? You must. You know my son.”

Your heart seems to freeze over. You wish Renjun would return already, but time is going by so slowly. You breathe in deeply. “Yes, I do.”

“Them you also know that I would never accept someone of your standing and upbringing. I’m sure you’re a very pleasant girl, but you know next to nothing about the world Renjun was brought up in. Not about the values we preach and not what is expected of us. Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Exactly, my child.” The woman in front of you smiles, tight-lipped and fake. Tears are already forming in your eyes, but you refuse to do that in front of her, so you lower your head. “Please do yourself the favor and go before you get your heart broken. You know that this is the best thing for Renjun. If you were to stay, that would just be selfish.”

Selfish. Renjun’s shoes appear in your vision, and you quickly look up and smile at him, hoping that your eyes weren’t as glassy as they felt like. Mrs Huang gives you a last look.

“It was nice to meet you, (y/n).”

❀ ❀ ❀

You never want to leave this bed again.

After yesterday, you had crawled beneath the sheets, ashamed of how you had been treated. Like someone of low value. Cheap and tacky. Worthless. Renjun had tried over and over again to ask you what’s wrong, but it was kinda hard to tell your boyfriend that his mother seemed to hate you and that doesn’t really make her your best friend. You let him kiss your neck and your eyelids, but you don’t budge. At last, Renjun had sighed and wrapped you into his arms before heading to sleep.

The morning sun warms you up, like a warm blanket that was wrapped around your body. It cheers you up just so slightly, but the moment Renjun rouses, you’re sullen again.

You wish you had stayed home.

You’re turned around against your own will. “Please, talk to me,” Renjun mumbles, and when he cups your face with his hands, you sigh and close your eyes again. “What did my mother tell you? No matter what it is, you can tell me.”

You hide your face in Renjun’s neck. Falling in love with Renjun had been beyond easy. He treats you like the most precious thing in the world, and he drops everything and anything to be there for you when you need him. You remember once when you were laying in the hospital because of a cyst, he had immediately asked to have the rest of his week off so he could stay with you and take care of you. He had known that you were scared of being operated on and spent hours to calm you down.

He was just perfect to you. He was the cure you needed after years of swallowing poison. And now, you were on the verge of losing him, because you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth.

Lips meet your temple in a calming manner, Renjun’s fingers loosening up the knots in your hair. You wish he would do the same with your heartstrings. “Renjun, we can’t be together anymore,” you mumble, heart shattering in your chest.

Renjun freezes below your touch. It doesn’t stay that way for long, though. He forces you to look at him and searches your eyes, and he makes his confusion evident by furrowing his brows. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You breathe in shakily. “I’m not good for you. Not... good enough.”

“You’re perfect to me.”

“But not to your mom,” you say quietly. Renjun sits up, and you do the same. As you look into his eyes, you realize how angry he’s getting by the second. “Is that it?” he exclaims. “I don’t care about what my mom thinks, (y/n). I’m ... I’m sick of having to apologize for my family. And that’s why I’m asking you to forget them and be with me. I’m not staying in China. I’m an idol, and I’m your boyfriend.”

You find his hands. They’re trembling from his fury. “Renjun, your dad isn’t getting any younger,” you repeat the words his mother had said to him. “And I don’t want to make you choose between family and me... I’d.. never forgive myself if it was my fault you can’t talk to your parents ever again.”

“(y/n)”, Renjun says, voice deadly serious. It snaps you out of your sorrow, as if you’d been drowning and he was tossing you a life ring. “Marry me.”

You roll your eyes. “Renjun, this isn’t funny.”

But your boyfriend isn’t joking around right now. He reaches beside you, fiddles with the nightstand and returns to you with a box in his hand. When he opens it, you gasp loudly and clap a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I wasn’t kidding.” He doesn’t even wait for your answer; Renjun tugs the ring out of its’ box and slides it on your finger, kissing it afterwards. “I’ve known from the start I was going to marry you. How couldn’t I? You’re so good to me, (y/n)... You love me for me and take care of me. You let me spoil you and spoil me rotten in return, even though I always tell you that you shouldn’t be wasting money on me. I can always be myself with you. (y/n), you.. You’re the first person that looks me into the eyes and sees me, my soul as bare as it is, and you decide to love that version of me with everything that came with it. My mother doesn’t get to decide who’ll walk down the aisle - you do. Even if you reject me.. If you don’t want to marry me..” He clutches your fingers, because his own are shaking and his voice is breaking from having to hold his tears back. “The ring is still yours, just like my heart. I’ve been keeping this for a long time. Whether you break my heart or cherish it is up to you. Because I love you.”

Some people meet in life by accident, and nevertheless the most beautiful relationships can blossom due to this little mishap. Loyalty and love will always be a good basis for those who maintain healthy contact with others. But some souls are meant for each other. They were intertwined with each other because of the universe, long before you even gave these strands names. They become family, friends, lovers, brothers in arms. A long time ago, someone in heaven had decided to have mercy on you. They had taken your rusty strand of iron and connected it to the most beautiful golden strand that has walked this earth, and that was Huang Renjun.

You cannot see the goodness of heaven, you can never grasp it. But you can feel its’ traces; in a warm hug, a loud laugh, into which you break out together, a happy memory. But it is always there - constant and forever. It’s right here, in this moment, captured forever in the silver ring wrapped around your finger.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Renjun,” you whispered. “Because I love you more than anything else in this world. And no one can hinder me from that, not even your mom.”

He breaks out into laughter at that, and now Renjun let the tears stream over his face. They flow as quickly as yours and you both scramble to hug each other, fitting together like missing puzzle pieces. Renjun cradles your head against his shoulder while you press him to you as tightly as you humanly can, whispering love declarations to each other in the golden light of the sun, making this the most perfect morning you’ve ever woken up to.

And there are thousands more to come.

#this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and it’s barely a third of the movie hhhh #dont hesitate to critize or give feedback; it helps me lots !!#i love u guys 🤍#huang renjun #nct dream #nct #huang renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #huang renjun fluff #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #huang renjun scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios #nct 2018

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black-streak · 5 years ago

Text

Waiting for the Worms - Bring the Boys Back Home

Part 11

Jason's time up until the blackout. Very few warnings for this bit... Umm, mention of guns and a touch of violence later? This part is a bit shorter than usual, especially in comparison to the last part.

CLOSED LIST. Tickets for the angst express are sold out!!! : @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Explaining why 'Marinette' had a newfound interest in guns and weaponry had been difficult to say the least. Sure, she already took martial arts and Jason added kickboxing and trained with the team regularly, but her parents weren't aware of the latter and quite frankly, the team showed some confusion as well. Sure, Kagami already new fencing and regularly used a bow staff as she saw fit, but guns? That was something else. Jason always had an interest and refused to give up, especially with Bruce no longer able to restrict his training. Tikki, surprisingly enough, fully supported the decision while Plagg actually showed more caution.

Nevertheless, with the excuse of wanting to know how to disarm and be able to disassemble a weapon in case someone were to attack him, Sabine reluctantly agreed to allow him to attend lessons and visit a shooting range. After figuring out the basics and quickly dropping the lessons as to not raise suspicion for the real reason he wanted to learn, Jason took Kaalki and borrowed Plagg so he could transport to isolated locations and use Tikki's creation magic to summon different models and learn them inside and out along with explosives that he took apart and put back together under the careful guidance of Plagg. When he was done, he let Tikki remove it from the world once more, undoing any damage he might've caused.

With graduation in two weeks and Marinette's seventeenth birthday right after, Jason knew he had a few decisions ahead of him.

Honestly, he just felt grateful Marinette skipped a grade when they were younger. He's not sure if he could take another year of living like this. The fight to stay normal, to stay under the radar and appear okay itched at his skin, reminding him at all times that it wasn't his. Back before the nightmares began, he almost settled into the routine, almost adjusted to the too smooth skin, the brush of hair between shoulder blades, the small stature and feminine voice he spoke in. Living as her almost came naturally. Sometimes he forgot Tom and Sabine weren't actually his parents and that his teammates didn't know the truth of who he was. Then the dreams started and horrific imagery flooded his mind every few nights and everything felt wrong again. Suddenly he couldn't forget where he was, who this body truly belonged to, the fact that he was meant to be dead, not finishing schooling.

The methodical rhythm of disassembling and cleaning weapons eased the tension and grounded him in his worst moments. Maybe if he knew how every weapon worked and how to counter them, the constant attacks in his dreams wouldn't terrify him so much. While his dream self seemed to have no issue fighting back and taking out his unseen enemies, his brain couldn't keep up in his sleeping state and threw him into a breathless fit, shaking and panicking as he startled into wakefulness. The panic lessened since starting to learn, so he figured he just needed to learn more and adjust. Really he just wished the dreams would end.

His phone buzzed, startling him out of his contemplative state. Raising it up, he checked the caller ID before answering, the video chat opening up to show Marc.

"Hey, Marc, what's up?"

"Kagami said she needs you to transport back now, something about disappearing too much for your own good?"

"She's one to talk. Alright, heading back now. Have somewhere in mind?"

"Chloe's suite. We're all gathered here," Marc said, shifting in place, more comfortable than they once were, but still shy by nature and unable to hide the edging nerves.

"Oh really? Maybe I should just head home then. Sounds like an intervention."

He watched as his friend jumped a bit, surprised eyes widening rapidly. Before they could even begin to speak, Jason chuckled, cutting them off.

"I'm opening the portal now. See you in a moment."

Hanging up, he opened his bag and woke the sleeping kwami to transport them back to Paris. Upon arriving in Chloe's suite, said blonde launched herself at him, wrapping him up in a hug and swinging them about with the momentum.l, before immediately backing off before he could get annoyed, Kagami coming up from the side and gripping his sleeve in her own form of affectionate greeting. Marc and Juleka looked up from the couch and offered excited smiles.

"You're all entirely too happy. What's happening?"

"Your birthday is in three weeks," Juleka stated softly.

"You're finally hitting our age, oh fearless leader," Chloe drawled out.

"You say that as if you aren't already eighteen," he deadpanned back.

"Semantics."

"There are some highlights to graduating and be surrounded by legal adults," came from his side.

"Like?"

"Your parents agreeing to let you go on a trip with us, no real adults present. Happy Birthday, Marinette."

"What did you guys do?"

Marc spoke up here, "well, we were trying to think of what to give you and I remembered how much you use to talk about leaving Paris all the time and with how much you've been using Kaalki to escape, we figured you wanted out, especially now that Hawkmoth isn't necessarily holding us back anymore and your guardian training is complete. So then we had to think of where to go and what to do and maybe Chloe and I remembered back years ago, no matter how your list of places to go changed, one always stayed the same and-," they rambled in a spiral until Juleka landed a hand on their shoulder, cutting them off gently.

"We're going to Gotham," she offered.

He felt his pulse pick up and eyes widen, thoughts and emotions tearing through him too fast to hold on to.

"Mari? This is an excited reaction right? We can change plans if you no longer want to go," someone spoke. He had to stamp down his anger and tears, to reassure his teammates they hadn't done anything wrong.

"No no, I'm thrilled, I just never thought I'd be going there as an adult is all."

"Oh," Chloe flinched, putting two and two together first, having been the most present back when the connection broke and knowing something bad happened to Marinette's soulmate, "Mari, if it hurts to go there, we won't. I didn't realize," she trailed off.

"I want to."

"Are you sure? This trip is supposed to be a celebration for you."

"It'll give me closure. I want to go. Thank you or this," he forced a watery smile which ended with another hug from Chloe and soft smiles from the rest. They couldn't have realized what type of closure he sought out. Bruce, explaining why he thought it okay to let his soulmate pass on without a proper funeral, without any retribution or justice for their death. The Joker dead. Some people should not be allowed to live, he'd always believed that and the clown was one of those people. Sure, this would look like petty revenge, but how many others lost their soulmate to his hands? This was necessary. And his team had just given him the means to do so without raising suspicion. He felt a type of peace settle over him as he thanked them again for their thoughtful gift.

…

Two weeks came and went and suddenly they were graduates. Suddenly, her birthday was upon them and her parents presented a beautiful cake and invited all of their friends and family over to celebrate. Tom cried over his baby girl growing up and Jason teared up, knowing she never did. He hugged them twice as tight in apology, giving watery smiles mistaken for his realizing his own new status as an adult, if a young one. Gifts were given and promises were made and at the end of the day, it all hit like a whirlwind. She'd been dead for one week short of three years. On the anniversary of her death, he'd arrive in the place where it all began. That godforsaken hellhole of a city. It felt like poetic justice. He struggled to fall asleep that night.

…

His nightmare was more vivid that night. Throwing a blade at a barely seen threat, pinned beneath another, the streak of silver above him and downpour of blood. Moving out and up on instinct, and meeting terrified green eyes.

Moving down a path, a glance at the bodies in another. The woman from before, the other one with the jade eyes, among them. Twisting the kid out of sight and away from there. A dark tunnel. An abandoned building.

He woke then, bright blue and acidic green eyes watching him wearily from the other side of the room. Shoving it down, he shifted over and fell back asleep, use to these restless nights by now.

…

The airport was too bright and loud for this time in the morning. Their flight was at eight in the morning from Paris, meaning they would arrive in Gotham around ten in the morning. Time zones were annoying that way. All of them had stayed up the entirety of the night before and planned on sleeping for the duration of the flight as though that would help. Eight hours in a plane with only two hours difference in time was sure to throw them off no matter what.

Either way, they all boarded, tucked into their first class seats, courtesy of the rich kids, with blankets and reclined positions and went to sleep.

…

Landing, going through customs, and retrieving their bags went smoothly enough, making it to their hotel rooms by ten thirty. Now they were regrouping, having dropped off their things and changed out of their airport clothing. The urge to pass out for another eight hours was tempting, but none of them had anything in their stomachs and food took president for now.

Picking their way into a coffee shop down the road, Jason ordered a latte and a slice of pumpkin bread and settled in a corner table, blocked off from most of the place.

As the others slowly trickled over with their own findings, a tension slowly grew amongst the group. Amongst the entirety of the cafe actually. Looking around he couldn't catch sight of anything out of the normal. Surely none of the rogues would attack here. It was just a cafe, nothing worth holding up. Until he remembered where they were. On the very edge of where the penguin's territory usually landed. Right on the edge of where Scarecrow's usual haunts began. Glancing about more frantically to see why everything had fallen silent, the privacy of his corner table also blocking too much of the view, a scream picked up right as a cloud of smoke spread from the last table to their own.

Stiffening up in preparation for what was to come, the breath knocked right out of him as a sharp yank came from the back of his head. No, his mind. Right as the cloud reached his face, he blacked out.

…

Coming to, he jumped up, dizzy and disoriented. The room spun and he immediately fell back into his seat when a movement in his peripheral caught his attention. His hand instinctively yanked a knife off the counter (counter?) and launched it towards the figure while he twisted to face them.

When the room stopped spinning, he caught sight of the boy standing in the doorway to what appeared to be a bedroom, jade green eyes trained on him as he carefully pried the knife out of the wall beside his head. Once it was freed and lowered in his grasp, he turned fully towards Jason, eyes hardened with a wary glint. Everything went still.

"Marinette?"

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 11 #just playing a bit of catch up #or am I?#next stop - terrible times!#hey i posted on time

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apparitionism · 4 years ago

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Decalogue 2

This is a belated continuation of my Bering-and-Wells tenth-anniversary piece: a listing of “commandments,” one issued by each year of their association. I did the first five years in part 1. The ensuing years are of course both easier (I get to make up what happened!) and harder (oh lord, I have to make up what happened...). So this second five years’ worth of commandments—this second pentalogue?—will probably be both worse and better than the first. As always, I’m in it for the talking, but also for the idea that Myka and Helena would get things right, and wrong, and right again. I testify regularly that it’s hard work to sustain a long-term relationship. You have to want to do that work, and it isn’t always pleasant. But I’m absolutely certain that B&W would power through. Anyway I meant to do the ensuing five years as a single part, but I decided instead to fake myself into thinking I’m accomplishing things if I do them one or two at a time. I’m taking wins where I can find them right now.

Decalogue 2

Year six: Thou shalt not damage.

This commandment, which Myka would have been overjoyed to be able to keep in its absolute form, worked out in practice to something more like “You’re going to do some damage. Fix it as best you can.”

Distinguishing between where it was and was not safe to step was one of Myka’s most confounding challenges. So many years ago, at the start, the literal gunpointings had made the hazards very clear, but now, instead, Myka encountered metaphorical landmines, buried in places stranger than she had expected: she knew to step around guns and guilt; she knew not to mention Christina, unless Helena was in a mood to think about her. But how was Myka supposed to have anticipated that on any given day, a particular word would be a sensitive plate?

She had been complaining, expressing general resentment on the topic of her parents and Tracy and the grandchild. She concluded with, “And that’s my family for you.”

“They are your family,” Helena said, a flat statement that Myka could not parse. Then she stopped talking to Myka. Entirely.

Myka tried to ask, tried to find out what was the matter; then she tried just talking to Helena, pretending nothing was wrong, hoping it was some sort of circuit-breaker problem and that acting normal would throw the switch; then she offered a general apology for everything she might ever have done wrong; but in the end she had to give up. Helena with an idea in her head—whatever the idea was—couldn’t be reasoned with.

They slept in the same bed. No words. No contact either, but that was because Myka avoided it. She could deal, for a while, with being verbally ignored, but she didn’t think she could handle even one instance of Helena coldly refusing to escalate touch into intimacy.

Claudia couldn’t save them this time. Not that she didn’t try: “Talk to Myka!” she bellowed at Helena, but no talking ensued. “I guess you gotta keep trying,” she told Myka with a shrug. “Send her flowers?”

Well, flowers never hurt anything, did they? So Myka had an arrangement of peonies delivered to the B&B, because Helena had once been very “these belong in an English garden” about peonies, softer than Myka would ever have expected her to be.

Helena read the card—and Myka had to admit that the “I love you” message wasn’t very creatively written, even in terms of penmanship, but she was running on desperate fumes at that point—then very pointedly placed it and the peonies into the kitchen trash can.

So Myka’s best version of tenderness was in the garbage... clearly tenderness was not sufficient to fix anything. It was necessary, she was fairly sure, but not sufficient.

After much additional analytical thought, she developed a hypothesis. “I think I get it. Your family’s gone,” she offered to Helena, who barely twitched in response. But she did twitch, so maybe Myka had got it right? She continued, “And I’m being insufficiently grateful that mine isn’t.”

No response other than a very loud absence of anything resembling a twitch.

Back to the analytical drawing board... at which Myka now drew nothing but a blank.

It took an entire week for Helena to budge at all, but: prompted perhaps by Myka rescuing one of the peonies from the trash and putting it in a vase on the nightstand on Helena’s side of the bed, or maybe by Pete endlessly complaining “I hate when Mom and Mom fight,” or alternatively by Steve handing her cup after cup of tea and noting (just as endlessly) that it was “to soothe your laryngitis,” or possibly by the phase of the moon or a conspicuous mote of dust or something else that even Helena herself probably couldn’t or wouldn’t ever articulate, she interrupted Myka’s weeklong insomniac ceiling-staring session at two in the morning by pushing at her shoulder, hard, and saying, “I thought you might be moved to describe me as your family. But I see I have not been promoted to that exalted level.”

Helena was vocally doing “stoic” and “offhand,” insofar as anyone could really pull off either of those after a week of administering the silent treatment. Which meant that she wasn’t pulling them off at all, which in turn meant that Myka could hear the wound: a fault line sending a bleak rumble through the substrate of that voice in the dark.

“Exalted,” Myka said, herself trying to pull off “no, I never really thought you’d refuse to speak to me for the rest of our lives.” She was also trying to hide her embarrassment at being so analytically obtuse, as well as her shame at having inflicted pain in the first place. “Do you want me to not get along with you, too? Complain about you all the time?”

“You do complain about me all the time,” Helena pointed out, and Myka had to concede, at least internally, that that was probably more than a little bit true. She had to concede, too, that she had not in any way put Helena in her mental dictionary to illustrate the word “family.” The pictures of an endlessly troubling group of people from whom she could not really escape, about whom she complained all the time, had seemed to be a permanently closed set. Any additions, she had thought, would be similes: Pete was like a brother (and thank god that was once again true), Claudia like a sister (though a different sort than the one Myka actually had).

She should have known that Helena’s role in her life was literal, not figurative. And she should have known that Helena, in all her literal intensity, would have expected words to be applied.

Family. She complained about Helena all the time; Helena was endlessly troubling; and Myka certainly could not escape from her, as five-years-unto-six had shown. But the difference was that she didn’t want to escape Helena... apparently she’d mistaken that for a disqualifying factor, family-wise.

“You have sequestered me from those who are so exalted,” Helena said then. “Ideationally, but physically as well.”

“In my defense,” Myka began, but she faltered. “I know it isn’t much of one. But you haven’t been here for very long. I mean... you were, but then you weren’t. Physically. Since you brought that up. And we’ve been together for real for less than a year.”

Silence again, but this time it was an audible challenge.

“So I guess I’m taking you to Colorado Springs pretty soon to show you off.”

Myka realized, while she was searching for reasonably priced plane tickets for the trip, that this was the first time she’d hurt Helena in a way in which she might have been similarly likely to hurt anyone. She’d been so busy working on not making Helena-centric mistakes, those to do with guns and guilt and grief, that she hadn’t thought much at all about this relationship in a broader sense. It was singular, yes (obviously yes), but it was also two people in love with each other, trying to live with each other. Buying “meet the parents” plane tickets forced her to confront how pedestrian they were, as people in love with each other. It was both a minor disappointment and an enormous relief.

Arriving at her childhood home with Helena in tow was even more surreal than she’d imagined... despite the fact that she’d imagined it out, scenario after scenario.

It was also even more awkward than she’d imagined. “Mom, Dad,” she began, as her parents and Helena did nothing but look at each other, wary, as if a hostage exchange were about to occur, “I told you about Helena.” No one said anything. Yes, awkward. She had indeed told them, but that been... what it had been. Myka still wasn’t sure how to think about what it had been.

She’d called them, determined to tell it all—well, not all—but before she’d finished clearing her throat in preparation for launching into her prepared remarks, she was subjected to the usual enthusiastic recounting of grandchild activities. That was fine, though, for she did take a little schadenfreudic satisfaction in how quickly grandchild-centric material had replaced Tracy-centric information in these bulletins.

“I have a little news,” she said as the child-related hosannas began at last to run out of steam.

She took a breath. “I’minaseriousrelationship.”

One more breath. “WithsomeonefromworkhernameisHelena.”

After a pause, but not much of one, her father said, “How do you want us to respond?”

Myka had braced herself for questions, certainly, but not that one. “By being happy for me?” she offered, and she wished she had sounded decisive.

“Then we’re happy for you,” her mother said, and when had her mother ever sounded that decisive?

Myka could easily imagine them at the kitchen table, both leaning toward the phone that her father would have propped against the lazy Susan, for he’d always seemed to believe that placing a phone flat on its back rendered it helpless, like a turtle. That picture was very clear, very familiar. But she could not envision how those two people, addressing that upright phone, would look if they were happy for her. “Just like that?” she asked, because her inability to see it suggested that she shouldn’t believe it.

“If that’s what you want,” said her father.

Had he come up with that on his own? Had her mother kicked him under the table? Who were these people? Myka groped for words to address this strange moment in which she wanted to believe what her parents were saying. All she could come up with was a slow, “It... is.”

You were promised endless wonder, she reminded herself, and you do seem to be in the bonus lately. She’d heard Pete say “in the bonus” about something sports-related, and even though she hadn’t bothered to find out what the phrase really meant, it felt solidly descriptive of the way the past couple of years had been resolving.

Speaking of wonder, though, she did wonder, in the moment, whether what she had really wanted was to have to argue passionately for her reasons and right to be with Helena... to have to make that case. She probably wouldn’t have done it, not out loud to her parents; they were her parents, so she would have just resented them, adolescently, for not respecting her choices.

But now there was nothing big to resent. Was this adulthood?

Ignore it, she told herself, and she managed, mostly, to do what she was told. Her parents acted like she’d told the same thing to them; they didn’t bring up someonefromworkhernameisHelena when they spoke with Myka. Myka didn’t either.

But now here they all were, face to face in the doorway of her childhood home, her parents and Helena and her own instantly re-teenaged self, refracted by the bizarre temporal displacements that had worked together to stand them here, scaled strangely, like dolls from different playsets.

A few very formal words, such as “how do you do” and “pleased to meet you,” ensued, and Myka had genuinely never been so happy to see her sister when Tracy finally showed up. She did so sans grandchild, which Myka had requested; she tried to tell herself she’d asked for that because inflicting a child on Helena would be cruel, but in all honesty, she selfishly wanted her parents to focus not on that child, for once, but on Helena—no matter how contradictory it was of her to have tried for so long to avoid directing their attention to Helena at all.

“Myka talked about you like you weren’t even real,” Tracy greeted Helena.

“For some time I was not,” Helena greeted back.

As if Helena’s response had been the epitome of etiquette, Tracy nodded and said, “I’m going to pretend out loud that I understand that.”

Helena said, as a stage whisper to Myka, “I like your sister. She functions.”

“That may be the nicest thing anybody’s ever said about me,” said Tracy.

Myka said, “Helena can be very nice when she feels like it.”

Tracy made a face that reminded Myka she wasn’t the only one who reteenaged around their parents. “You probably can too, Myka, but I’ve never seen you feel like it.”

“I, on the other hand, have seen her feel like it,” Helena informed Tracy. “So you may have hope.”

Tracy said, as a stage whisper to Myka, “I like your girlfriend. She functions too.”

And Myka didn’t in the end care if it was Tracy’s imprimatur that made the difference: the fog of overpropriety lifted, leaving Myka free to sit back and witness Helena returning her father’s interrogative serves with H.G. Wells–related volleys—more of them than Myka had imagined could be worked into conversation. “Oh, I think my friend Edward Prendick expressed it best,” Helena began one anecdote, and she ended another, “...which brought home to me that we all feel invisible now and again.”

“You made a game of it,” Myka accused her later that night, when they had escaped to their hotel room.

Helena smiled an indulgent smile at her across the snowy-white acre of king-sized hotel bed that separated them. “Of course I did. How many points would you say I accrued?”

“I stopped keeping score,” Myka said, and she wasn’t sure if she herself was being indulgent or just grumpy.

“Quitter...” Helena began, a drag of amused accusation. But then she paused, got on hands and knees, and initiated a trek to Myka’s side of the bed. She could have done it catlike, teasing, but this was a common human crawl. “No, that’s wrong,” Helena said as she moved. She was taking her time, but it really was a very large bed. “You’re no quitter,” she announced, answering Myka’s unvoiced “huh?” with, “You feared that initial interaction.”

“That’s unfortunately true.”

“But you did in the end ensure that it occurred.”

“Because you wanted me to.”

“And here we are,” Helena said, reaching her destination. She leaned to kiss Myka, a slow melt in which Myka felt gratitude, and also softness, the sort that was always a surprise (see: peonies). Just as there were unexpected sensitive plates, there were surprisingly graceful bays of yield and give. This kiss was one of them. Gratitude, grace; and Myka felt too the future: this kiss was happening here, now, but this kind of kiss could (should) happen tomorrow, next week, years from now. Here, somewhere else, anywhere.

This is why we came here, Myka thought. Because we kiss like this. Someone you kissed like this was who you were supposed to bring home to meet your parents—and again Myka felt the sad slight press of disappointment at, but also the knee-buckling relief of, being exactly like everyone else. “Here we are,” Myka agreed. “In a hotel room in Colorado Springs. I have never in my life spent the night in a hotel room in this town.”

“Interesting.” Helena gave her a look that included a little aggressive chin-jut. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Don’t Abigail me,” Myka warned.

The chin retracted, minimally. “All right, I’ll rephrase: And what do you intend to do about that?”

But Myka felt not quite ready for what she intended to do about that. “Look, you aren’t them,” she said.

“Correct.”

“So you see my category error.”

“I do.” Helena said it soft, and Myka chose to hear it as an apology for, or at least an expression of some regret about, that wordless week. “You see my...” Helena stopped. She sighed. “My emotional error.”

A straightforward statement from Helena about having got something wrong.... Myka really was in the “endless wonder” bonus. “I do see,” Myka said. “We’re both pretty bad at this.”

“Also correct. How do you feel about that?”

Myka rolled her eyes, but other than that she didn’t bother.

Helena pursed her lips, which sometimes signaled frustration, but this time she coupled it with playful eyebrow movement. “What do you intend to do about that?”

They were bad at this so much of the time, but here they were in Colorado Springs, being better at it... good at it, even. “Ignore it for now and get back to kissing somebody. Something else that I have never done in a hotel room in this town.”

“I would think not, given that—”

“Listen, don’t make me explain what other kids did on prom night.”

Helena smiled a beautifully familiar smile. Lascivious, but only to the degree that Myka liked. So: respectful. Her tone was further along on the lascivious scale (and Myka was fine with that) as she said, “I don’t know what ‘prom night’ is, but perhaps you should explain. In detail. If I understand your implication correctly.” The word “implication” was accompanied by a placing of her body atop Myka’s that she also knew Myka liked. “Correctly” was accompanied by an application of pressure, one that she further knew Myka loved.

And that was how Myka came to enjoy what she would forever after remember as her very own personal—personalized—prom night.

During which she may have accidentally caused some bruising... but no damage.

Per the commandment. Which was difficult, but not impossible, to keep.

TBC

My non-tag essay on this one is very simple, and it is basically a version of the next “commandment,” which I had already formulated, but which the past few weeks have really made clear to me: “Thou shalt take nothing for granted.” In fact my original first ideated line of that seventh-commandment bit was going to be “Because if you take any given thing for granted, it will explode in your face. Guaranteed.” I am here to tell you that is true. Prize each and every minute of the life you consider “normal,” if that normal feels good to you. My wife was in a serious accident very recently. She’s going to be okay eventually, with luck and hard work, but change to your everyday, which you may undervalue as I did mine, comes as a whip-crack.

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Decalogue #part 2 #(although it deals with the sixth commandment)#(apologies for how weird the numbering of all of this will end up looking)

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zahneundklauen-retired · 4 years ago

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Dawn of the Final Day || Kaden and Alcher

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Hunter and wolf find each other on the last day of the moon. Surely fate has brought them together. CONTENT: Blood, Gore mention, death mention, bad coffee

Everything had seemed to change recently. Too much. But one thing stayed the same, Kaden’s morning ritual of stopping by Coffee Plus to grab a good espresso. Alright, good might be pushing it, it wasn’t amazing or anything but it was better than he could manage with any small machine at home. So he would take what he could get. As early as he rose in the morning, he was still groggy and grumpy in the mornings. Grumpier than usual, that was. Queuing was truly the worst part and it was only ever compounded by people who didn’t know what they wanted even though they’d stood there and waited forever and a day and had more than enough time to figure shit out before the moment they stepped to the counter. It didn’t help that in this town he was constantly surrounded by shifters and the dull tingle down his spine never quit in the morning. He didn’t have it in him to give a shit long enough to pay attention to where it was coming from or even properly ignore it. He sighed. It was the same every day. Small comfort, there. The lady in front was taking so long, he started to doze off where was standing. So much so that he tripped a bit and caught himself as he ran into the person behind him a little. “Putain, sorry,” he tried to offer her. Somehow they still hadn’t moved. Shit, he gripped his side a moment, stinging a little from the pain from the other night. “You have to wonder what people do this whole time in line,” he grumbled, mostly to himself, partially to the person he’d just run into. He hated small talk but he sort of felt obligated.

Human rituals were still wholly strange to Alcher, but lately she’d been finding herself more and more fascinated with them. Her newest endeavor was the ritual of coffee in the morning, despite the ache in her bones. She’d need something to help get her through this last moon. Though Alcher vastly preferred tea, she figured she ought to try coffee. Everyone seemed to swear by it, after all. And so, she found herself in line at Coffee Plus, the other coffee shop Regan had told her about when they’d talked last. It couldn’t be too bad, right? She’d waited for a while outside before heading in, letting the queue to the counter fill up before heading in behind a rather grumpy looking man. She was examining the menu board-- with very little success; it was so far away and her eyes were failing her in two ways-- when the man in front of her stumbled back into her. She put her hands out quickly to right him, feeling the pain throb again from when her arm had been torn to shreds, letting him fix himself. She gave a pleasant smile, despite the automatic action of wiping her hands as if she’d touched dirt on her shirt. There’d last been blood there, after all. “No problem,” she said, tilting her head, “happens to us all.” She raised a brow. “I’m not sure,” she answered, “I’m still just trying to decide what to order. What’s your favorite? I haven’t quite got the hang of American style coffee. Have you?”

“You mean you don’t already know?” Kaden sighed. She did have a good point though about American coffee. It was… what it was. “I had a feeling you weren’t from around here by the accent but that all but confirms it,” he said with a small laugh. “I suppose you caught me, too,” he said, realizing she’d put the pieces together a bit sooner than he had. It was early. “Where are you from? And how many people ask if you’re from Germany?” he said. Admittedly, he couldn’t quite place her accent, either. It was nearly German, but he knew damn well it wasn’t after growing up around Oscar and living in the country a few years. “Anyway, it’s nothing like home, that’s for sure. Or really most of Europe if you ask me. This is the best place I’ve found in town, though.” He gave a small shrug. “It’s passable and it’s good enough. Beggars, choosers, what not.” He wasn’t entirely sure what to suggest to her but his favorite, that much he could manage. “Most days I just get an espresso or a doppio but occasionally I get a, uh, well it’s not a café crème really, but I can pretend.” He didn’t expect any coffee shop in a small town in Maine to compare to a Parisian cafe, not really, but it was hard not to think about them on occasion, miss home a little bit. Even if he wasn’t always sure how much of home France really was more and more. “I take it you’re not part of the usual crowd, then.”

“No, I don’t usually drink coffee, actually,” Alcher admitted, watching him closely for a moment. He looked quite tired, but she supposed that was rude to point out. Perhaps that was why he was in line for coffee. It was the drink with the most caffeine in it, aside from those nasty energy drinks. “I suppose I did. French is a very easy accent to place,” she agreed. “It’s Polish,” she said smoothly, not even flinching as he mentioned Germany and how she didn’t sound quite German. It stung on the inside, but decades worth of pretending and hiding had taught her how to keep it there. “I’m originally from Poland, though I haven’t been back in quite some time.” She nodded, as if she understood why he thought this coffee was worse than any other coffee. “I understand that.” She looked back at the menu, as if to examine the board once more, despite still not being able to see it well enough. For a moment, she remembered the sting of saltwater in her wounds. “I think the doppio sounds like a good choice,” she decided, finally, “thanks for the suggestions.” This place certainly was strange, and the people, stranger. This man, though grumpy and tired, didn’t seem so strange. He also didn’t smell strange, rather like coconut and peppermint shampoo, and dogs. If it weren’t for the overwhelming smell of bitter coffee, she was sure she could pick out something else, but it was proving a little too difficult. “No, I’m not. I’d heard this place had good coffee from a friend, and thought I might try it out. Are you, then?”

“Strangely enough, that’s the second time I’ve heard that in this shop recently.” Kaden almost hated how easily the small talk came to him just then. He chalked it up to the fact he was speaking with another expat. There was always some strange tenus solidarity there. “Polish, of course. I hear it now. My uncle’s German so I figured it wasn’t, you know, uh…” So much for being decent at small talk. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been across the Atlantic.” Kaden wasn’t certain the next time he’d be back. Even though, strangely enough, he was finally in a spot where he might be able to afford the plane ticket without scrimping and saving. He wasn’t even sure it was duty anymore that was keeping him stateside. For as many time as he thought about going home, leaving this cursed town, he almost found himself thinking of White Crest as home. What a fucking awful thought that was. “Sorry what was that?” He almost missed what she said. It felt like he had cotton in his ears a moment. And everything seemed a little duller. Maybe he really was just that exhausted. But it almost seemed like something else. Putain, it better not be something magical. He didn’t want to deal with magic just let. Not until after 10AM, please. Still, it was easy enough to piece together what she said as he focused a little harder. “Right, yeah I’m here almost every morning. I should give up the habit but…” He gave a shrug. “It’s better than my habit for smoking I suppose.”

“Easy mistake,” Alcher said despite the sour taste of the words in her mouth and their untruthfulness, “a few of the people I grew up with were German, so I picked up some of their accent as well, it seems.” Grinned past the taste of copper in her throat. “Is he? What part of Germany is he from?” It’d been a while since she’d met anyone from Germany, she wondered how nice it might be to be able to speak her native tongue to another. “It’s been awhile for me, as well. Nearly a decade, by now,” she said, though she’d lost track of the years a while ago. Time didn’t matter to a wolf in the forest. She opened her mouth to repeat her words, when he gathered them up himself and spoke again. Interesting. Humans were so fascinating sometimes. She wished she could place what that other smell was, that sort of metallic-y earthen scent. Perhaps it was another person’s perfume or shampoo. But her senses had been messed up since that fae child had torn into her, had ripped bits of her flesh, left her half dead and nearly drowned. She glanced around momentarily, before looking back to the man. “Well, as far as bad habits go, I doubt coffee is the worst one you could have,” she answered, knowing all the other vile habits humans developed for themselves. Pitiful creatures, that was for sure. “Like that one. Then again, smoking seems to be a big thing in France. From the time I remember when I was there, it seemed as if almost everyone I met smoked.”

“Not too far from Stuttgart. Bad Wimpfen to be specific.” Kaden had so many mixed feelings about the country given his circumstances. He shouldn’t blame the place for it, the fact that it was where his whole life had ended in a way and began differently. Still, there were so many unpleasant memories some of those places stirred up for him to ever be excited to visit. Other than to see Oscar. “A decade, huh? Long time to be away from home. Guess that definition changes a bit, though, depending.” He wasn’t sure if that was introspective or stupid. Possibly both. “My wallet tends to disagree when it’s practically every morning. Oh well. What’s life if you can’t enjoy it a little?” Couldn’t take it with you and he was sure he wasn’t likely to have to worry about saving up for retirement or shit like that. He would be lucky to make it another decade. “Yeah, my parents would on occasion, even though they tried to hide it. I don’t know, picked it up as a teen, never stopped. Hasn’t slowed me down much. But I have cut back considerably.” They inched forward in line. “I guess she finally read the whole menu after all.”

“Stuttgart, ah,” Alcher said, forgetting for a moment that she could not give her true birthplace away, “I lived North of-- well,” paused, “--northwest of Czaplenik, erm...near the border. Stuttgart is far from that, though I have been through there once.” To track down her family’s killers. They ended up being in a different part, but they’d gone through the city, for what reason, Alcher did not know. She straightened herself out and smiled. “I suppose it does. What is that cheesy American saying? Heart is the home? Or...something.” The line inched forward and the person at the counter now, was having a hard time deciding between a Cafe Late and a Cafe Mocha. The wearied barista just sighed. The man behind her, dressed in a suit, tapped his foot anxiously. “Seems so, but now we’ve another stall.” The smell of chocolate filled her nose as someone behind the counter warmed up some cocoa. “The small things really do make life worth it, though. From what I’ve experienced, at least.”

“Ah, yeah, other side of the country more or less. Makes sense. I’ve been out towards Berlin and traveled a bit through Poland but mostly kept towards Munic, Frankfurt, Cologne, all that.” Kaden had mostly lived in the South Western parts of Germany when he was there. The only times he’d seen the rest and any of Poland was on hunting trips. Not that he was about to advertise that. “Something like that, yeah,” he said with a half smile. “Home is where the heart is. Very cheesy but I suppose they have a point.” Though it did make him wonder if that meant that White Crest was currently his home. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that thought. He shook his head a bit to himself and inhaled a deep breath, pain shooting through his side as he did. Weird. It was almost like the coffee was less pungent today, the scents duller. What was going on? He pinched the bridge of his nose, tried to help open up the airflow or something. Didn’t really help much, though. “Yeah you need something to keep you going and all. Sometimes it’s coffee I guess. C'est la vie.” The line eventually moved again and he found himself up at the front. Kaden placed his order and turned back to the woman behind him. “Order what you want, I’ve got it,” he told her. “Least I can do for subjecting you to small talk after running into you.”

“Ah,” was all Alcher said to that. She shuffled up in line with him and gave another glance at the menu. It was finally coming into view, and she squinted to see the price by the drink she planned to order. But then the man offered to buy it for her, and she was genuinely surprised. Humans weren’t usually so generous. Rarely, in fact. Perhaps he wasn’t altogether human, then. If only she could get his scent, but the musk of smoke and coffee beans and chocolate clouded her nose. That, and she hadn’t fully healed from her moon yet, despite Zinnia’s help. A smile came to her face at the thought. “C’est la vie,” she said, then winced, “sorry, I probably butchered French for you. It’s a much softer language than I’m used to.” She gave the woman her order once they shuffled up in line. “Thank you, this is very kind of you. At least give me your name so I can repay you sometime soon? I’m Ada,” she smiled, and held out her hand, “It was real nice to meet you, small talk and all.”

“Ada?” he said, giving her hand a shake. “Kaden. Maybe I’ll see you again. Enjoy the coffee.”

#chatzy #chatzy: kaden #wickedswriting #dawn of the final day #kaden

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croonerboy1965 · 4 years ago

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Home- Buddie Fic

Eddie arranged the rolls of shirts and pants, stuffing his suitcase as tightly as he could. He learned this military style of packing when he was in the armed forces, and now it was just habit.

After he had Christopher down for the night, he packed the last of their belongings, and prepared himself for bed. 5:30 in the morning came early, and they didn’t want to miss their flight.

Even though they had lived in Los Angeles for a while now, they had very few belongings. In the process of moving from place to place looking for a city with a large enough fire department, and good schools for Christopher, they had left things behind each time, until they paired it down to the most essential things.

Eddie slipped off his shirt and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. He stood shirtless in the bathroom mirror and began brushing his teeth, when he heard a light tapping at the door.

He peered through the peep hole for a moment, unlocked and opened the door to reveal Buck standing there. Buck gave him a look up and down, taking in Eddie’s tight and muscular physique, clearing his throat before speaking.

“Hey!”, He said a little too enthusiastically. The sight of Eddie shirtless always made him a little overly excitable.

“Haigh”, Eddie muffled, foam trailing down his chin, as he continued to scrub his teeth.

“Hey… So… I know it’s kind of late…“, Buck said.

“Yeah.”, Eddie garbled with a mouthful of toothpaste. “One sheck…“

He spit into the sink.

“Yeah We’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”, Eddie said.

“Yeah so… That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I come in for a second?“, Buck leaned his way in, and Eddie took a step back. Buck, hands in his pockets, pushed past Eddie and turned to face him once inside.

“So – – you’re really going to Seattle, huh?”, Buck said, looking down at his feet, then sheepishly into Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you about it, but the opportunity came up fast and I had to make a decision.“ Eddie said.

“It means a Captain’s position, and more money, and maybe even a nicer school for Christopher.“, Eddie said.

“That all sounds great.“ Buck said, sounding less than pleased.

“Yeah… I found a really nice place out there, lots of room for me and Christopher and maybe even a dog…“

“ …is there something you wanted to tell me?“, Eddie asked

“Don’t leave.”, Buck said

“It’s too late we already have tickets, everything is packed.”, Eddie said.

“No… That’s not what I meant.” , Buck said shaking his head.

Eddie cut him off. “Look... I know what you’re going to say, but after Shannon died, I’ve been having a really hard time… just I don’t know… Being in the city… In this city.“, Eddie said.

“Yeah I get that…it’s just—“, Buck tried to say.

“So I just felt like maybe it was time to start over again.“, Eddie continued.

“We’ll see each other. I’ll have you out to the new place. It’s actually not that far. We can still call each other and text, we can even FaceTime…“

“Yeah… I’ve heard all this before.”, Buck said disappointingly.

As Buck turned to leave, Eddie called after him. “Buck… Wait.”

Buck turned back to Eddie, and raised his voice in frustration. “You know, I understand what it feels like to live with a ghost. A ghost of somebody you loved. I know how hard it is every day, wishing you could be with the person you cared about so much. But you can’t let that get in the way of everything you built here. Everyone here who loves you.”, he said.

Eddie looked into Buck’s eyes and saw a kind of desperation there, as if Buck was holding something back.

“I know… I love everybody here too. You guys are like my family.”, Eddie said

“No! It’s more than that!” Buck said, almost shouting.

“You can’t leave…”, he said, pleading.

“I mean we’re moving away but and like I said, it’s not that far—”, Eddie said

“No! I mean me!”, Buck said cutting him off sharply. He lowered his voice and stared more intently into Eddie’s misty gaze. “You can’t leave me.”, he insisted, his voice breaking, tears welling in his eyes.

Before Eddie could speak, Buck grabbed him, pulling him into a tight embrace, kissing him squarely on the lips. Eddie fell into the lip-lock, his mind swirling, The sudden rush of emotion overcoming him like a wave.

He pulled back from the kiss for a moment. They stared into each other’s eyes, searching—each one looking at the other like an entirely new person they never realized was there before.

Then Buck turned on his heels and left as fast as he could. He was out the door gone as Eddie called after him, “Buck wait!”, but he was off into the night.

The next morning Eddie and Christopher arrived in a cab at the airport, and proceeded to go through check-in. The whole time, Eddie could not stop thinking about Buck. Stubborn, impulsive, soft-hearted and sometimes overly emotional Buck. His lost little puppy dog look, that he gives whenever he has made a mistake or disappointed Eddie, or anyone really. The way he smiles and lights up the room whenever he sees Eddie, and especially Christopher. He didn’t think anyone could love Christopher more than he could, but he was pretty sure Buck could out-love almost anyone, except maybe Christopher himself. It was then that he realized, how much he loved Buck.

Up on the roof, he meant what he said, but maybe it meant just a little bit more. Maybe— just maybe, this one fact, was enough. For the first time ever, he considered that he might have been running all along, away from the one thing, the one person he should have been running toward.

As the plane began to board, Eddie and Christopher were called up first, as disabled passengers pre-board. Christopher hopped up and started to amble toward the gate, when Eddie stopped him in mid-stride. He knelt down in front of his son and looked him in the eye and said, “Hey buddy, hold on a second.”

“What’s up, Dad?”, Christopher asked.

“I wanted to ask you something…”, He looked down and tried to gather his thoughts.

“How would you feel, if we stayed here, and umm didn’t go to Seattle.”, he asked.

Christopher smiled and looked into Eddie’s eyes reassuring him.

“That sounds good Dad.”, he said.

“Okay…One more thing… So…I wanted to ask you about Buck…”

“Buck!”, Christopher said, grinning wide.

“Yeah—about Buck…”, Eddie said.

“No! Dad, Look!”, Christopher exclaimed as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie turned and saw Buck coming toward him at a clip that almost broke into a full on run.

Maddie was not far behind him.

“Eddie!”, Buck exclaimed, “Wait!”, but Eddie was frozen in place. He wasn’t going anywhere even if he could have. Buck reached Eddie and began to speak between exasperated breaths.

“I needed to tell you something…”, Buck said.

“If it’s about last night, then don’t even worry about it. It doesn’t matter.”, Eddie said.

“What do you mean?”, Buck said, concerned he might have come all this way for nothing.

“I mean—I don’t mean—“, Eddie stammered.

Buck looked so disappointed. And then, a look of restrained anger crossed his face, as he tried to sort out his feelings.

“Tell me!” Buck demanded.

“Ok.. “ Eddie said as firmly and calmly as he could. Eddie placed a hand on Buck’s shoulder. This reassuring touch always put Buck at ease. Eddie had a way with his tone that was so loving, so parental. It always made Buck feel safe.

Eddie began to speak in earnest. Buck listened intently, as he looked into the steady gaze of Eddie’s eyes. They had the look and the warmth of a sip of aged whisky, and were almost as sweet as the words Buck heard from Eddie’s lips.

“You know, I can stay here, or move to Seattle, or halfway around the world. But anywhere I go—it won’t feel like a home without you. You...ARE my home.”, Eddie said.

I’ve been holding on to this for a while now. I wanted to give it to you before.”, Eddie continued. He looked down at his ring finger.

“It’s my old wedding band. I know it’s not much, but it represents a promise. A promise unfulfilled between me and Shannon. I kept it because it represents my love. The love I had for her. And you are the only person I can think of who deserves that love more. The only person I love more than her, and after Christopher, the only man I ever loved.

You give so much. You risk your life every day for strangers, and you defend and love my son like he’s your own. You have saved both our lives more times than you know. And you smile through every single bad thing in front of you. And even when you thought you had nothing left to give, you chose us before yourself.

All I want to do is spend every single day trying to be even half as selfless...half as brave. You make me more than I ever thought I could be. You showed me how to love again, after so much loss. You gave me back to myself. At first, I felt scared and embarrassed by my feelings for you. But when I thought I might lose you up on that roof? I knew it didn’t matter. Because nothing scares me more than the thought I might lose you. I don’t care if some people don’t understand. I know you. I trust you. I need you. And I don’t want to spend another second being ashamed or afraid. I love you, and I hope I’m right, in thinking you love me too…”

“So…”, He continued, pulling the ring from his finger and getting down on one knee, taking Buck’s hand in his own. He was shaking as he looked up into Buck’s eyes, praying he saw agreement there. He offered the ring up, his eyes wet.

“Evan Buckley, will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”, he said as he saw a look of consternation come across Buck’s face. Eddie’s face fell into disappointment, and he thought he should just stand back up.

“Buck, say yes!”, Christopher said. This made Buck laugh nervously. He gave Christopher a smile that was part loving and part heartbreak. He glanced up at Maddie, and she gave him a look that said, ‘Come on already!’. He put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, stopping him from rising to his feet.

To Eddie’s surprise, Buck also got down on one knee. He removed a ring box from his own pocket. He turned it slowly over in his hands, before meeting Eddie’s gaze, which had brightened considerably. The look was quizzical, but also relived.

“So…I have been carrying this thing around for a while now.”, Buck looked up at Eddie, and saw his eyes filled with tears.

Christopher looked up at Maddie and she gave him a reassuring squeeze from behind.

“It’s ok buddy.”, she smiled down at him. She whispered, “Just watch.”

Buck began again. “So— I am not as good with words as you are, but here it goes…

All my life, I struggled to find somewhere I belonged. I went from job to job, girl to girl, searching for something or someone to hold on to. But no matter where I went, or who I latched onto, it just never took.”, Buck’s voice quavered as he said, “And then—and then I met you.”

Eddie was in a full weep now, and he wiped tears away from his eyes with the back of his hand.

This made tears roll down Buck’s cheeks as well, but he let them fall and continued, opening the ring box as he did so.

“I was going to return this ring I bought for Abby, but then I thought I might have it reset into a different band. I figured I could wear it to help keep women away.”, Buck laughed to himself.

“ I decided I would just tell them I was already married so… then I wouldn’t have to risk getting hurt…but it didn’t work.”, he said, exhaling.

Eddie put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and fought back the urge to pull Buck into him and right on to the floor in a bear hug.

“Anyway—after the whole thing on that rooftop, when I realized how wrong I was, and how badly I wanted to live. I also realized why. It’s you Eddie. It’s always been you. From the minute you came into my life, I have wanted nothing else. He continued, his voice breaking. Back when I was Buck 1.0, I slept around, trying to cover up my feelings, hiding who I was. And you made me realize that I could love all day long, but it was never going to matter until I decided to love myself. You gave me that Eddie, You made me see myself as worthy of love. It’s just like you said—“you gave me back to myself.” And for the first time in my life, I feel complete. A wise man, once told me, ‘You don’t find a great love like this...You make it.’ And I can’t think of another person on this earth, I would rather spend my life making a love like that with. I was only hoping maybe, after everything, you might feel the same way I do…”

Eddie cut him off and pulled him into a kiss, that almost toppled them both over.

“I do.”, He said earnestly, as he pulled his mouth away, their foreheads keeping contact.

“So…You do?!”, Buck said, smiling through tears, relieved. He could not remember the last time he was this happy.

Buck turned to Maddie and Christopher and said gleefully, almost shouting, “HE DOES!”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Duh!” She said.

Both men stood up to full height and wrapped their arms around each other in a long rocking embrace, kissing one another between squeezes. Christopher squealed in delight as they rushed to him, and swept him up in to their arms, and kissed his face all over until the giggles bubbled out of him. In the rush of emotion, they had forgotten all about the rings.

“The rings!”, Maddie piped up in mid embrace with all three of her favorite boys.

Buck ran over and scooped them up off the floor, where they had been dropped. He handed the one meant for him, over to Eddie, looked at him and Maddie saying, “It’s too bad the rest of the crew couldn’t be here to see this.”, Buck said, sounding a little disappointed.

“Let me see what I can do about that.”, Maddie said. She turned and faced the rest of the onlookers in the gate’s waiting area, which Eddie had realized up til now he had not even noticed, as Maddie stuck her fingers in her mouth and gave a whistle.

“Guys! You’re up!”, she shouted.

Eddie looked and saw several people drop what they were reading. Some were in wide brim hats, some had collars turned up. It took him a second before he realized everyone was already here. One by one, the crew all stood up. Abuela stood up. They all clapped and cheered. Eddie turned to Buck who was giving him one of his signature mischievous grins.

“You did this?”, Eddie said.

“WE did.”, Maddie said, hugging her brother around the waist. “Buck knocked on my door last night, and he was pretty shook up and more excited then I think I have ever seen him. We had a long talk and— well the rest is history.”, she said.

“Last call for flight 247 to Seattle now boarding.”, the overhead PA system chimed in.

“We better get to it then, huh?”, Eddie said.

It hit Buck all at once. Eddie was leaving. His mind raced as he spat out the words: “Marry Me!”

“I already said—“, Eddie began.

“No, I mean right here. Right now.”, Buck insisted.

“Right here?”, Eddie said, in a quizzical tone.

“Yes.”, Buck said emphatically. He was not going to let another person he loved, leave him behind. This time, he was going to seal the deal. This one was not getting away. Eddie turned to Christopher to get his approval.

“What do you think buddy?”, he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Definitely, YES!”, Christopher said, more certainly than Eddie had ever heard him sound before—“Do it Dads!”, he ordered, making everyone smile and laugh to themselves.

Eddie shrugged and said: “OK! But how do we do this?”

“Funny you should ask…”, Maddie interjected again. But it just so happens, it is really easy to become legally ordained on the internet. She pulled a printed, sheet of paper from her jacket pocket and un folded it.

“This little piece of paper right here, gives me the right to marry you in the state of California.”, she said with pride as she fluttered her eyes at Eddie.

Eddie looked at Buck, who again was grinning from ear to ear, with a look of wonder on his face. He didn’t know what to say. Buck shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well— I figured I’d take a shot. I know it’s really fast and we can wait…I can come out to Seattle with you, whatever.”

He glanced over to the gate attendant and waved them on. He watched as they closed the gate.

“Bah, I’ll take a different flight.”, Eddie said.

Buck kissed him and looked around at all his friends.

“Save some for the honeymoon guys!”, Chim teased, to which Hen elbowed him and gave him a dour look.

“Don’t yuk their yum.”, she scolded.

“It was a joke!”, he said, making Maddie roll her eyes.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat.

“So do you Evan Buckley—“, she began, before Eddie interrupted.

“Wait, what about vows??”, he said.

“Well I don’t know about you all, but those proposals—sounded like pretty good vows to me.”, Athena said to the group. Everyone nodded in agreement. “Now let’s get on to the good part.”, she prodded. “I think you boys have waited long enough.”, she said.

“So!”, Maddie said, picking up where she left off.

“Do you Evan Buckley take this man, Eddie Diaz, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”, she asked.

Buck could Barely contain him self as he slipped the ring on Eddie’s finger. His hands shook so much that Eddie had to guide Buck’s hand. He nodded, to Buck as the ring slipped into place, encouraging him to go on.

“I do. I definitely, definitely do!”, he said almost too loudly. He thought he might pass out from sheer joy.

Maddie went on, “And do you, Eddie Diaz, take Evan—uhh—Buck, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”, she asked.

“Hell yes, I do.”, Eddie said. He thought he might never stop smiling or crying.

Abuela coughed, and Eddie looked over at her and down at Christopher, in shame.

“I mean. HECK YEAH, I DO!”, Eddie said as he placed the ring on Buck’s finger.

Christopher looked up at his 2 dads and giggled, grinning.

“KISS!” he yelled, causing another ripple of laughs from the crowd.

Maddie held up a hand. “Almost…”, she said.

“Then by the power invested in me by the Church of the Internet and the City of Los Angeles, I now pronounce you, married.”

She turned to face the crowd of onlookers, family and friends.

“Everyone—I give you, Mister and Mister Diaz-Buckley!”, she announced.

Eddie tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

Maddie leaned in, listening, as Buck gave Eddie a questioning look.

“CORRECTION,” she announced. “I give you Mr. and Mr, BUCKLEY-Diaz!”

Eddie smiled and winked at Evan. Buck looked like he might cry again.

“Aww, you remembered.”, Buck said.

“Of course I did”, Eddie said, “You don’t think I know my own husband?”

“You may now Kiss… Uh AGAIN!”, Maddie said.

“YEAH!”, Christopher cheered raising a fist into the air.

And with that, Eddie and Buck brought their lips together in a full on, out in the open, right there in front of the whole world kiss.

Everyone watching brought out a popper, and cracked them open, pulling on the strings and releasing confetti and streamers in to the air.

After the ruckus settled down, Bobby spoke.

“Well it’s a good thing this all worked out, because there is a reception and open bar for anyone who would like to come by our place and celebrate the newlyweds.”, Bobby said, slipping his arm around Athena’s waist.

Athena looked up at Bobby like he was crazy.

“What did you do?!”, she said.

“Don’t worry about it… I had a little help.”, he said shrugging his shoulder in the direction of Josh and Micheal. Athena glared over at them.

“What can I say? I love to throw a party!”, Josh said, trying to assuage her.

“As long as you all help clean up, I suppose it’s fine.”, Athena conceded, looking back at Bobby and the kids.

“Don’t worry, we will.”, they said in unison.

“MMMhmm…”, she said holding back a smile.

The reception was lovely. The house and yard was awash with white lights strung everywhere, there were fresh flowers and balloons and even some gifts. A wedding cake that looked just like the 118 firehouse, with two little firefighters on top. They even remembered to paint in Bucks red hair and birthmarks.

“Looks just like you.”, Eddie said.

“Actually, I am a little taller.”, Buck said.

There was even room for a makeshift dance floor. Hen volunteered to be DJ and Karaoke Master of Ceremonies, and Chim and Karen, greeted guests and helped serve drinks. It was perfect.

Hen took the microphone and announced, “Ladies, Gentleman, and Gender Fluid guests…May I present to you the Happy couple, and there fist dance.”

Buck took Eddie’s arm into the crook of his own and led him to the dance floor.

The music began. And the held one another so close, Buck could feel Eddie’s gentle breath on his neck, as he lay his hear on buck’s shoulder, his eyes closed. He was lost in the moment. In a place where only the two of them existed. Swaying back and forth, back and forth, drunk on champagne and true love. The music washed over them and Eddie could hear Buck’s heart beating softly in time with his own. Buck, eyes closed, gently lead them round and round, finally feeling at peace and at home.

I hear a song,

Drifting on the horizon

The melody is so sweet, so sweet

Who composed the tune?

It lifts my heart higher

I sit down to retire

And hear what it has to say

Love is here,

I don't wanna lose it no

The tune it was so inspiring,

It kept my body rising,

Absorption taking place

The melody so lovely,

The tune it was so subtle

The world's a wonderful place

I see him now,

The clouds begin to disperse

To reveal a wonderful presence,

A presence full of love

He is so lovely,

Standing there looking after me

Seeing just how I feel,

The presence of love itself

Love is here,

I don't wanna lose it no

The tune it was so inspiring,

It kept my body rising,

Absorption taking place

The melody so lovely,

The tune it was so subtle

The world's a wonderful place

Dum, dum dum, duh duh dum….

Love is here,

I don't wanna lose it no

The tune it was so inspiring,

It kept my body rising,

Absorption taking place

The melody so lovely,

The tune it was so… subtle

The world's a wonderful place

Love is here

Love…is… here.

#9-1-1 #buddie #gaylove #gay wedding

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