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thecleverdame · 4 years

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Control and Release - 30

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: After the rest of the staff is caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester. As the arrangement becomes more defined, you and Sam begin a sexual adventure with dangerous consequences.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words:3.1k

Parts 1-36 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including the ABO series Gods of Twilight and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

You blink once..twice...and then your cloudy vision clears and Sam comes into view, hovering above you.

“Welcome back,” he offers, giving your hand a squeeze.

“I passed out, huh?” You try to sit up but your body isn’t ready quite yet.

“Yes. There are usually more warning signs. You went down fast.”

“I hate this.” You close your eyes, a pounding headache whirling to life in the back of your head. “It’s so fucking scary. Every time I’m sure I’m not going to wake up.”

“But you did wake up and I was here with you the whole time,” he explains calmly.

“How long was I out?” You feel around, realizing he’s moved you from the couch to the bed. You’re stark naked and tucked under the sheet.

“Ten minutes, you started to come around once but slipped back under.”

“I’m so sick of this.”

“Maybe this one was my fault. I shouldn’t have put you through all this, not tonight. I know you’re dealing with a lot-”

“It wasn’t the sex.” You shake your head. “I liked that. It’s something else. I know it, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well, you need to call your therapist in the morning.” Sam studies you quietly for a moment. “You should be getting better and these incidents are happening faster every time.”

“But fewer and far between.”

“It’s not good enough. If she can’t help you, I’ll find someone who can.”

Rolling onto your side you look at him sitting naked on top of the bedspread. He’s your favorite version of Sam when he’s like this, stripped down to nothing and he’s still so fucking confident in everything he does it makes you wet just to think about it.

“I think I just need time, Sam. It hasn’t been that long, I’ll call her.” You glance at the clock, it’s almost midnight but thankfully tomorrow is Saturday, a well-deserved day off. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“No.” Sam gets up to grab a bottle of water from the minifridge and brings it back to you. “Drink. I had hoped we could go out and see the city. If that’s something you’re interested in and you feel up to it.”

“I would love that,” you smile, wincing as the throbbing intensifies. “I think. As long as my head stops banging.”

Saturday Morning

“You sure you feel okay?”

“Good as new…what is this?” You look at the boxes spread out over the table. There’s so many they’ve overflowed onto the couch, garment bags carefully laid out so as not to wrinkle whatever’s inside. None of this was here when you stepped into the shower and now it’s as if the room exploded. Like he snapped his fingers and a couture fairy appeared.

“Clothing. I ordered you a few things.” He’s toweling his hair dry in the corner as you stand there, hair dripping onto the carpet.

“This is more than a few things.” You tiptoe around the packages, wary of the designer names. One of these boxes is equivalent to your monthly rent, some five times that. You can tell just by the labels.

“It’s not all clothing. There are a few pairs of shoes, handbags, hats. Anything you might want.”

“Why?” you ask, glancing at your ratty sweatpants hanging from the back of a chair. “Do you not like the way I dress?”

He looks up, thinking about his response before speaking.

“The way you dress is fine.”

“But…” you continue.

“But you’re a beautiful woman and your clothing is...not on par with the rest of you. I thought you might enjoy some new things.”

You can’t help but feel indignant and flattered at the same time.

“So, you don’t like the way I dress.”

His jaw ticks, already losing patience with the conversation.

“No, I don’t.” He pads to the closet pulling a shirt off a hanger. “You can pick out the things you like and I’ll have the rest returned. If you’re upset with me, it can all go back.”

“I didn’t say I was upset with you,” you counter, peeking inside one of the bags. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

The truth is you’ve got one look: business wear. In your downtime, you live in jeans and a T-shirt. It’s not that you don’t have an interest in looking more put together, but your salary has never allowed indulgences. Any nice items you own came from second-hand shops. You’re aware the two of you look like a mismatched pair. The thought makes you blush, embarrassed that you’re not living up to his idea of what you should be.

“You liked the suit I bought you.” He shrugs.

“Yes, I love the suit. But it’s worth more than my car. I’m not used to being gifted these kinds of...luxury goods.” You watch as he buttons up his shirt. Even on a day off he’s dressed like he’s got somewhere to be. If you didn’t know him, you’d still know he was someone. He looks important.

“You deserve to look like your worth.” He opens up a small box and pulls out a pair of heels that make your heart flutter.

“How much am I worth?” you ask.

“Oh,” he grins as you slink closer, cozying up to him. “I couldn’t put a price on you.”

“Thank you.” You kiss him softly, watching his eyes fall shut.

After picking out an outfit comprised entirely of Sam’s selections you do feel like a million dollars. You walk a little taller, laugh a bit louder and for the first time you get a true taste of what a life with his resources would feel like. You spend the day eating, shopping, and sightseeing until your feet feel like they’re going to fall off.

Sunday Morning

That morning Sam gets between your legs before the sun comes up. You awake to the feeling of his tongue on your clit. He manages to coax out your first orgasm before you’re fully coherent, leaving you swimming in pleasure as he slides his cock inside.

By the time you roll out of bed you’re ravenous and order half the room service menu. You’re elbow deep in banana pancakes when there’s a knock at the door. Sam answers to an agitated Pepper who slips inside.

“There’s something you need to see.” Pepper glances at you mid-bite, just as you’re shoving an obscene forkful of pancakes into your mouth. She rolls her eyes as you snap your lips shut, watching as she hands an iPad to Sam.

His eyes flit over the screen, glancing up at you for split second.

“What is it?” you garble, chewing as fast as you can.

“This surprises me,” Sam looks at Pepper. “I underestimated the interest in my personal life.”

“It’s different over here, the tabloids look for anything. You’re rich and known for being a bachelor. It’s newsworthy.”

“What is it?” you ask again, standing up and pulling your robe closed across your chest.

Sam wordlessly hands you the iPad as you read the headline scrawled across today’s digital edition of the Daily Mirror:

Love in London? American millionaire Sam Winchester spotted out and about with mystery woman.

It’s accompanied by several photos of you and Sam walking hand in hand, stopping to peer into shops. These photos are from the end of the day. The only saving grace was the whipping wind. You had shoved your hair under the hat he insisted you take along. It kept your locks in check and did an adequate job hiding your face from the photographer.

In the last photo, Sam has his arm around your waist, looking down at you with a sly grin, a moment away from a kiss. There is no denying the nature of your interaction.

“Shit.” You sit back down on the couch, staring at the screen.

“No one knows it’s you,” Sam assures, his tone unreadable as always.

“What?” You look up. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not really.” He shrugs.

“These were private moments.” There’s anger rising and you’re struggling to verbalize exactly why this is so upsetting.

“No one will know that-”

“Oh, I don’t care about that!” you cut him off. “I mean, we’ve gotten ourselves into a place now where people are going to find out eventually, it’s going to be awkward but I’m not worried about it. But someone followed us, Sam. Took photos of us and we didn’t even know it. That’s what scares me. The idea that there are people interested enough in your life to follow you around is...unsettling.”

Pepper is hovering in the background, watching and listening. She’s been privy to the two of you together, but this is by far the most intimate moment she’s witnessed between Sam and, well, anyone.

He’s silent, taking a seat in the chair across from you, tilting his head to the side as if he’s reading your thoughts.

“You knew from the very beginning that this was a possibility. I’ve been boring. I’ve never gotten into trouble, I don’t make a spectacle of myself. But this is..something. People are interested in my life because I have money and they’ll be more interested now that I have you.”

“Is this going to become a regular thing?” you ask, trying to sort through all the possibilities. “I mean, are there going to be people hiding in the bushes when we go to dinner? Will it happen when we go home?”

“I don’t know, but it’s probable.” He shrugs, seemingly unaffected, which only serves to exacerbate how invasive you find the whole thing.

“I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“We should think about making a statement. The longer you stay a “mystery woman” the more interest we’re going to garner. If we get ahead of it, it’s not a thing. We’re in control.”

“No,” you shake your head vehemently. “I will not be bullied into going public. How is that being in control?”

“You really don’t want anyone to know about us, do you?” The words fall out just as even as everything else, his eyes narrowing. He sits back, one leg crossing over the other as his jaw ticks to the side. Sam doesn’t have many tells but this one of them. He’s profoundly bothered by your response.

“That’s not what this is,” you counter, feeling instantly defensive.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a spoiled brat. Like you’re the only one with a brain.”

He stares at you, nostrils flaring, fingers curling into the armrest of the chair and then he looks up.

“Pepper, would you give us the room please.”

You completely forgot she was there.

“Of course,” she whispers, scurrying out the door and closing it behind her.

“There, we’re alone now. You can tell me how you really feel.”

“I wasn’t going to let her stop me,” you hiss. “I hate it when you use that condescending voice. You know that bothers me. And you did it in front of her.”

“I’m trying to remain rational and calm. But it seems as if I’ve hit a nerve. While we're on the subject, why don’t you tell me why the idea of you and I being out in the open bothers you so much?”

“It doesn’t,” you snap.

“That’s a lie.” He points at you, thrusting a finger forward. “You’ve been fighting the very idea since we evolved. So tell me, what is that you have to hide?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You sure? I get the distinct feeling you’re keeping things from me. A dirty little secret waiting to rise from the ashes.” He’s provoking you now, pushing further than he should and he knows it, but he can’t help himself. “What is it? Some guy you fucked in high school have a polaroid of your pussy?”

“Fuck off!” you yell, pounding your fist on the table. He’s the worst to fight with, he goes from zero to nasty in the blink of an eye. “It’s you, Sam, you are my dirty secret.”

He just stares at you, taken aback by the statement as you fume.

“It’s so complicated, I’m so fucked up I don’t even know where to start.” You kick at the leg of the table in frustration. “I know it’s crazy but I’ve convinced myself that someone is going to know just by looking, all the things I let you do to me. The dirty, nasty things I beg for. And you keep telling people about us without asking me. All I can think is that Toni is in the middle of a meeting picturing me on my knees with a dildo in my ass. Or one of those people from Nick’s party is going to show up and they really know what we’re all about. That stuff is ours, Sam. It’s private and personal and I love how you make me feel but I need that part of our life to stay between us.”

“I already told you, I’ve never told anyone about our dynamic.” His face is hard, emotional armor beginning to build.

“That's not even the half of it.” You sit back, putting your knees up to your chest. “I think about Dean all the time. Every time I’m alone I picture him rounding a corner or showing up at the office. I dream about him. To you, it’s no big deal, but for me, he’s this ever-present threat hovering in the background. You know when the shooting happened, when I first heard the shots, I thought it was Dean, or your dad? And now there are people following us, taking pictures and we had no idea. It would be so easy for your brother to do the same thing. The more we put ourselves out there, the more information they have. You say that there’s nothing to worry about, but I don’t think that’s true. I see first hand every day the damage they did to you.”

You pause to see if he has anything to say, but he just blinks at you.

“And I am nervous about everyone I work with finding out. People will assume I’m fucking you for your money, or for my job. Not that I even care that much about that part of it, that’s the least worrisome part of all this. And, since you brought it up I’m sure there are some pictures of my tits floating around out there. I wasn’t a saint before I met you. I’m a good person but I’ve done some questionable things and being with you means someone will go digging for them. So now I’ve got that anxiety to add to the mix.”

“All of that shit I can get over. It’s not easy by any means but you’re worth it to me. But you really want to know why I’m so gunshy about people finding out about us? I’m afraid you’re going to leave again. You’ll wake up one day, decide you’re bored with me and that will be it. The way you ended things before was devastating and it would be a thousand times worse now. I couldn’t bear losing you and have everyone know about it. I don’t think I could stand that.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” He counters, looking genuinely troubled.

“You already did it to me. It was fucking brutal. We didn’t talk, it was just over. You cut me out of your life like I was nothing to you. You were cruel and it took a fucking lunatic pointing a gun at my head to bring you back. You scare me, Sam. And I scare myself because I’m so in love with you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, then stops, rubbing a palm up and down his thigh. His eyes flutter closed for a lingering moment and you can practically see him evaluating and categorizing his thoughts.

“I-” he starts to speak, his voice catching and he clears his throat. “I had no idea you felt this kind of intensity about our situation.”

“Not all the time,” you whisper looking at your knuckles. “I’ve gotten used to this safe little bubble and I’m terrified if we change things, maybe you won’t want this anymore.”

“My feelings for you won’t change.” He sighs, looking up at the ceiling like it’s physically painful for him to expose these kinds of emotions. “I admit I’ve had the same thought, that you will eventually realize that I’m a terrible person and you’ll walk away from me. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I would take it back if I could, but I can’t. All I can do is move forward and show you that I’m committed.”

“I know.” You take a breath, waiting as he gears up for something else.

“As far as Dean goes, maybe he’s not as harmless as I make him out to be. You’re right to be concerned. I’ll figure out how to put more security measures in place. The last thing I want is you to feel unsafe.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“I can’t control what people think of you. I can only tell you that in my experience people assume the worst and enjoy tearing each other down. That is going to happen. There will be some terrible things said and written about you.”

“I don’t need you to control that. I only need you to acknowledge that it’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I understand.” He nods, his eyes never leaving you. “I do love you. I need to say it more.”

“I love you too.” You offer a tired smile, already emotionally exhausted before the day has even begun. “We can’t keep this a secret and I think it would be better for us if we were open.”

“I agree.” He gets up from the chair, sinking down on the couch next to you. “People will start digging. Looking for anything that could be twisted into a scandal. But I have someone who can help. Make sure we know what's out there, look into your past and get things cleaned up.”

“That would be great.” You take his hands, laying your head on his shoulder. “For the record, I’m not going anywhere.”

He gives a stiff smile, still in his head.

“Neither am I.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction

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lwjstiletto · 4 years

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wangxian au where lwj is a popular hand model and wwx is an independent jewellery maker [Part 3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

wwx shuts himself in his workshop for a month straight, with lwj being his only visitor. everything he makes looks beautiful on lwj but it’s somehow not enough, not quite /deserving/ of lwj yet.

when he tells lwj this, he only gets a slight downturn of his lips in return.

“you have fine craftsmanship.” lwj says, turning his hand so that the lights bounce off the crystal encrusted hand chain. “i have never seen anything like it before.”

wwx watches him in stunned silence. lwj tends to drop these really sincere, heartfelt compliments that both embarass him and motivate him to show lwj he can do even better. another reason for his stunned silence is how ethereal lwj looks in jewellery

wwx wants to cover him in it. a nice jade pendant that hangs just above his bellybutton; a hairpiece that weaves flowers between the silky black strands of his hair; a thick banded crystal choker that sits around his throat just so; an anklet with teardrop pearls perhaps

but for now, he has to work up to making the hand jewellery suitable. the rest can wait

—•—

the next time lwj visits, he looks like he’s one blink away from sleeping where he stands.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, because they have somehow progressed to calling each other by their infromal names, “are you okay?”

“mn.” lwj says, then almost collapses mid-blink. in true rom-com fashion, wwx catches him with one hand around his waist and the other on his arm. he would tease lwj about it but this isn’t the time.

“i’m sorry.” lwj tries to straighten up.

“come on, you need to sleep.” wwx says, using his hold on lwj’s waist to guide him towards his bedroom.

“no sleep.” lwj says, planting his feet into the ground much like jin ling does when he wants to be stubborn.

“lan zhan,” wwx cajoles with his practiced baby voice, “come on. you’re tired. just nap for one hour.”

lwj glares at him, “sleep later, work now.”

wwx bends down and puts a hand under lwj’s knees, scooping him up before he can react.

lwj’s sleepy eyes widen, “wei ying!”

“if you’re gonna act like a child,” wwx says walking towards the bedroom, “then expect me to treat you like one.”

internally, wwx is panicking. he is definitely crossing some boundaries here. however, wwx considers lwj a friend and his friend looks like he hasn’t slept for a week. sometimes extreme measures are necessary, jc has taught him that.

lwj twitches in his arms when he reaches his bedroom door.

“you can put me down now.” he says, his voice weak.

wwx ignores him and kicks his door open, gently placing lwj on the bed once he reaches it.

“go to sleep.” he says, pulling the duvet over him, “if you dare come out before the hour is up, i can and will carry you back.”

lwj looks like he wants to protest but he seems to lose the fight with exhaustion and drifts off the sleep before wwx’s eyes. wwx quickly exits the bedroom and closes the door behind himself. lwj. is. in. his. bed. sleeping... he’s sleeping. because he’s tired. and wwx’s friend.

“jiang cheng, lan zhan is in my bed.” he says into his phone once he has shut himself in his workshop.

“xichen’s brother? why? did you kidnap him? tell me you didn’t wei wuxian. xichen will kill you.” jc says.

“ok first of all, he’s here for work.” wwx realises that between working and sleeping he has forgotten to inform anyone about this. “and he was tired. he looked so sleepy and cute, what could i do?”

“you... was he at least... coherent? it was consensual right?” jc asks

“what?!” wwx screeches, standing up in indignation. “jiang cheng oh my god. we- he’s TAKING A NAP!”

“oh thank god.” jc sighs, “wait how do you know lan wangji?”

“ah,” wwx scratches his nose, “long story short, remember that pretty guy from uni? yeah lan zhan and him, same guy.”

“you-“ jc sighs deeply, “i’ve been hearing you wax poetic about lan wangji’s hands?! how will i ever look xichen in the eyes after knowing that you probably- eugh i hate you.”

“ok first of all, it’s not a fetish-“

jc hangs up on him.

this leaves wwx with too much free time to think and that’s never a good thing. so he starts looking around for something to do. this is how his eyes fall on lwj’s gloves lying on the table beside the door. lwj has developed a habit of discarding them as soon as he comes in

and like a magnet, wwx feels drawn to them. it must be annoying for lwj to wear them all the time, but he never complains. wwx, however, has no such qualms and detests them with vigor

today, it’s the white leather gloves. wwx picks one up and examines it. it’s soft to the touch, worn out to smoothness. an idea strikes him and he tosses the glove back as he reaches for his sketchbook. he thinks he has finally got it.

—•—

when lwj wakes, there is light coming through the curtains. he doesn’t remember the last time he had such a comfortable, dreamless sleep. an unfamiliar but pleasant scent surrounds him, safe, warm.

lwj bolts up in bed, remembering exactly where he is. he looks at his phone. it’s six, ok that’s fine. wait... 6AM. lwj throws the covers off and looks around, then back at his phone as if that’s going to change something.

he spent the night at wwx’s place. speaking of, where did wwx sleep then? he ventures outside and sees nobody in the living area. sure enough, wwx is passed out in his workshop, cheek flat on his workbench.

lwj sighs.

“wei ying.” he prods his shoulder gently, “wake up.”

wwx groans and shakes him off, “go away.”

after a few more pokes lwj rules it a lost cause and decides to make tea for himself and coffee for wwx. thankfully, he doesn’t have work until 3pm so he has plenty of time to waste puttering around wwx’s sparce kitchen.

after finding only hot sauce in the top cupboards (one labelled ‘burning hot’ with flames on the cover which makes him cringe away) he finally finds coffee. no tea. it’ll have to do, he thinks.

the smell of coffee near his nose does a better job at waking wwx up. he reaches blindly for the cup before he even blinks his eyes open. ridiculous.

lwj, in the most dignified way possible, sits on the purple beanbag and waits as wwx’s brain reboots with every sip of coffee.

“lan zhan?” wwx asks.

“i have the same question.” lwj says, “why am i still here?”

“too philosophical for this early in the morning. what time even is it?” wwx looks at the wall clock and groans, “why are you awake?”

lwj gives him a blank look, “i was promised a nap.”

“yeah, yeah.” wwx brushes him off, “i’m happy you slept well, you look much better than before.”

lwj feels his ears burn and his heart rate quicken.

wwx has an ease to his words and actions that makes lwj agreeable to existing in his space without wanting to revert back to professionalism. he fears that one day he’ll become so comfortable that he wouldn’t want to leave

“come here.” wwx beacons.

once lwj is bent over his shoulder, he shows him the rough sketches he has been working on all night apparently.

“are those..”

“inspired by the bane of my existence, none other than your gloves!” wwx says proudly.

“why do you hate the gloves?” lwj asks, curious.

wwx gives him a complicated look, “because they’re fabric. how old and boring. wouldn’t you rather be tangled in crystal chains that you can’t wear or remove without help?”

lwj lets him dodge the question, then gives the designs a closer look. “they’re very interesting.”

“it’s just a rough sketch.” wwx refuses to look at him, “i’ll refine the details and start working on it by tomorrow.”

“mn.” lwj says.

—•—

“da-ge tried to beat up su she again.” nhs informs him when he gets to his office a few hours later.

“again?” lwj asks.

“he bumped into him at the lobby. again.” nhs sighs.

“i will speak to him.” lwj says.

“what? no these stalkers just get worse-“

“i meant nie mingjue.” lwj clarifies.

“it should be fine. i’ve banned him from office premises now and i’m working on filing a restraining order against him.” nhs says, “i tried to explain this to da-ge but you know his temper. actually maybe you should talk to him. he might listen to you.”

lwj nods, “i will call him after my shoot.”

—•—

nhs must have mentioned it to nmj because he’s there to pick lwj up after his shoot. it’s late, almost past eleven, and the parking lot is half empty.

lwj gets a text from wwx just before he gets in the car.

wei ying: garnet or emerald?

lwj replies: i’m no expert at this

wei ying: lan zhannnn humour me

lwj: ruby

wei ying: i will fossilise you in one. lan zhannnn be serious

“you look much more at ease.” nmj comments.

lwj realises that he is.

“you don’t need to bother with su she anymore. huaisang has it under control.” lwj says.

nmj gives him a skeptical look.

“i trust him.” lwj emphasises.

“i was told you had previous acquaintance with that man.” nmj says.

lwj sighs, “he was in my cello class.”

“you play the cello?” nmj asks.

“not anymore.” lwj answers.

nmj doesn’t ask further.

they sit in uncomfortable silence until nmj asks where he should drop lwj off. what comes out of his mouth are the directions to wwx’s place. his excuse: he needs to know what a garnet gem is before making a decision.

“i will trust you and huaisang to handle this.” nmj says when they come to a stop, “be well.”

lwj nods, then opens the car door.

“wangji.” nmj’s hand grabs his elbow gently.

lwj turns to him.

“i’d like for us to be friends.” nmj says. it sounds stilted, amended.

lwj frowns, “i already consider you one.”

nmj nods and lets go of his hand. with the hint of a smile he says, “goodnight wangji.”

lwj looks at nmj drive away then turns to face wwx’s apartment building. now that he’s here, his excuse sounds feeble. he takes a deep breath, he’s already here. might as well.

wwx opens his apartment door and stares at lwj like he has seen a ghost. “lan zhan?”

“i don’t know what garnet looks like.” lwj says.

wwx grins at him, then grabs his forearm, dragging him into his workshop. there, on a mannequin hand, is the half finished skeleton of what looks like wwx’s design coming to life. he holds up a red and a green stone. he points to the red one, “this is a garnet.”

“it looks like a ruby.” lwj says

wwx looks like he goes through the seven stages of grief before he says, in a strangled voice, “how could you? you’re– you’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”

lwj gives him an innocent look. he can feel the tension in his shoulders bleed out.

“it’s coming together.” wwx says when he notices lwj looking at his unfinished project. “come here, let me see if you can have mobility with it on.”

lwj removes his gloves and stretches his hand towards wwx. wwx gently manoeuvring delicate silver chains around his hand isn’t something new, but it feels different in the middle of the night. more intimate. lwj discards that word with a flick of his hair

it’s not usual for him to leave it unpinned, but he has spent the day lying on a carpet with his hands stretched upwards, balancing a small perfume bottle between his fingers. coming out of it with a few strands out of place is a minor inconvenience.

“tada!” wwx says, drawing lwj’s attention to his right hand which is now tangled in a complicated-looking array of chains from the tips of his fingers down to his wrist. it’s stunning even in its incomplete form.

“it’s beautiful.” lwj says, low as the silent night.

“it’s barely anything right now!” wwx protests but his cheeks are red, “come on, try to move your fingers.”

lwj does, slowly as to not break the delicate structure in case it does lack mobility. it moves with him, like still water disturbed, pressing coldness onto his skin when he closes his fist.

there is no bite, in fact it barely feels any different from wearing light cotton gloves. he thinks he understands wwx’s vision better now. he opens his fist again, one finger at a time, watching how the chains loosen and hang lower on his wrist.

he’s so fascinated by it that he’s surprised to see wwx standing in front of him when he looks up. his eyes are fixed on lwj, unwavering and shameless in their focus, dark with what lwj would presume was desire if he didn’t know better.

“ah it doesn’t need adjustments for now then!” wwx says, snapping out of it. “it looks great on you! i’m sure your girlfriend will like it when it’s finished too!”

“i’m gay.” lwj deadpans.

“oh.” wwx says, choked. “your... boyfriend then?”

“wei ying i...” think of you as a safe haven in my hectic life? find your rambling amusing? think you’re extremely talented and deserve success? have a teeny tiny crush on you? what is lwj supposed to say? each of those sound worse than the one before

at the end he decides to settle for the worst possible answer, “i don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

he does! well, not really. but he would make time if it was wwx... or something! sometimes lwj wants to punch a wall, break a finger, quit his job as a consequence and live in a secluded mountain in the east for the rest of his days. this is one of those moments.

wwx nods in understanding. lwj would prefer if he /didn’t/ understand and demanded to be lwj’s boyfriend to prove him wrong. ‘i’ll make you have time for a boyfriend’ is what lwj imagines him saying.

instead wwx offers him tea.

“it’s too late for coffee.” he shrugs when lwj mumbles a surprised ‘tea?’

before lwj can ask why he suddenly has tea in his house when he didn’t just yesterday, wwx is already gone.

they sit around wwx’s small breakfast table. as they sip their tea- high quality tea nonetheless- wwx begins to talk.

“this project is going more smoothly than i expected. i already have a couple designs in my mind. i’d say it’d take maybe a month or so if i substitue my sleep enough with coffee.” wwx says.

“do not strain yourself.” lwj replies.

“rich coming from you.” wwx’s lip quirks, “you passed out on me yesterday. oh what could have caused that? i don’t think it was sleep deprivation and overworking because you’d never do that.”

it feels like lwj is being scolded.

“wei ying-“

“lan zhan, are you alright?” wwx asks sincerely, “i know you said that you weren’t hurt back then when i saw your bruises, but we weren’t friends back then. you were in pain when i met you at wen ning’s parlour. -

- wen qing was oddly iffy about telling jiang cheng about you even though she knows that he’s friends with your brother. you looked so afraid when you thought i was stalking you, which, technically my fault but still. i’m sorry for bringing this up but i’m worried about you. i want to help you, with whatever it is.”

lwj sits in silence for a few moments, flabbergasted. it seems like this is genuinely bothering wwx, and maybe it has for a while now.

“wei ying.” lwj starts, trying to mentally arrange it all in chronological order. “i think there has been a slight misunderstanding. i did not persue conventional modelling because i did not want to be in the public eye.

however, my identity was exposed about a month ago. it made me unnecessarily paranoid which is why wen qing was careful about my information, and i was in turn careful about my surroundings.”

“who the hell-“

“it does not matter now.” lwj says calmingly. he doesn’t need another person trying to beat su she up.

wwx fumes silently as lwj continues.

“at wen ning’s parlour i was actually in quite a bit of pain.” lwj says. wwx opens his mouth but lwj cuts him off. “yes, it was due to overwork, and yesterday can be attributed to the same cause. but it does not happen as often as you’re thinking, i promise.”

wwx mulls this over. “ok fine. don’t think i didn’t notice you skipped over the bruises though. they can’t be from overwork so either someone did that to you or-“

“it is..” lwj says, forcing the words out, “as you thought that day.”

he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he doesn’t want wwx to have any misconceptions. and well, if he sacrifices his own peace of mind for wwx, it is most likely worth it in the end.

“you mean...” wwx swallows, “you–“

seeing him struggle so much with the words makes it easier for lwj to blurt them out somehow.

“i like restraints, yes.”

this does not bring an end to the conversation, instead making wwx stutter through even worse versions of it.

“you like– to be tied up– oh my god.” he says, “you- that’s what you meant right? handcuffs, ropes all that- like bdsm? is that what–“

“wei ying. please.” lwj says.

“oh of course. here.” wwx grabs both his wrists with one hand.

lwj stares at him. wwx stares back. what the hell.

...

“oh,” wwx draws back like has been burned, “oh my god i don’t know why i did that. i’m so sorry!”

“wei ying it’s okay.” lwj tries but wwx has now put his face in his hands and does not seem to hear him above his mumbling variations of ‘oh my god’ and ‘i’m so sorry’.

lwj lets him go on for a while before he can’t take it anymore. he puts a gentle hand on wwx’s shoulder. this seems to have the desired effect, both shutting wwx up and making him look up at lwj.

“wei ying, it’s okay.” he repeats.

“no it’s not! what was i even thinking? it’s not okay for me to do that! out of nowhere! god, i must have made you so uncomfortable–“

“i don’t mind.” lwj says.

“how can you not? you should fire me!”

“you are my employer.”

“that’s even worse!”

lwj sighs. wwx seems to be transforming into a puddle of shame right before him. he has to put an end to this or wwx will overthink himself into an early grave. no amount of consoling seems to work though. lwj sighs, it is time for drastic measures.

“i lied.” lwj says. he quickly continues before wwx can officially begin his pity party, “i do have time for a boyfriend.”

“what.” wwx says, drawn out of his stupor with the sudden shift in topic.

“i have time... if it’s you.” lwj says and then immediately wants to adapt wwx’s head in hands coping mechanism. “now we are even.”

wwx seems to be dissecting his sentence to make sense of it. “oh. OH.”

“i should go home.” lwj rises from his chair. just as he is turning away, wwx grabs his wrist and pulls him so he’s face-to-face with him.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, his eyes fond, “you’re so.. ugh!”

lwj frowns. ugh. he’s ugh.

“lan zhan!” wwx takes lwj’s face between his palms and grins at him, “do you know i’ve been crushing on you since that day at the university?”

“you have?” lwj asks.

“you really didn’t know?” wwx asks, “lan zhan, lan zhan, do you think a professional jeweller needs weekly fitting appointments?”

“you don’t?” lwj feels just a little stupid.

“not really? i could have made adjustments after i finished everything.”

“you like me?” lwj asks. for some reason it hadn’t occurred to him that his crush could be reciprocated.

“yes!” wwx shifts from one foot to another eagerly, “can i hug you now?”

lwj nods and is drawn into wwx’s arms. wwx presses his nose into the space between lwj’s neck and shoulder. lwj holds his shoulders, glad that he can hide his red face in wwx’s hoodie

wwx sighs, his breath tickles on lwj’s skin.

“will you stay with me tonight?” and when lwj is silent for two seconds,

“not like that! it’s innocent! like a sleepover! i won’t tie you up i promise– lan zhan please shut me up i beg you–“

lwj draws back, simply places a gentle kiss on wwx’s lips and says, “don’t ever shut up.”

The End!

as for any loose ends:

- lwj manages to gain his anonymity back

- su she manages not to get beaten up by wwx or nmj but does get a restraining order

- wwx completes his collection and it’s a success! the best part is that he is holding the hand that started it all!

This fic has a nsfw one-shot on ao3 if any of you want to read it :)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/25827673

#wangxian fic #wangxian #lwj x wwx #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan zhan #wei ying #the untamed #cql #mdzs #my fics #hand model au #long fic

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Note

Can you do something with a seriously injured/sick Modern!Arthur ending up in the hospital ICU and female reader being his doctor?

This one turned out much different from what I expected. Hope it works for you, Anon! Also, for any of you who work in healthcare, forgive my bullshit. I did some research but I really know next to nothing about it.

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of smut

You pick up the new chart for your most recent patient and sigh heavily. You figured you’d get this case. Earlier this morning, you’d heard of a car accident and that one of the drivers involved was rushed to your hospital. Sure enough, when you open it to read the patient’s info, it is the same incident. He was terfed to you in the ICU from surgery. You read the name “Morgan, Arthur” but think nothing of it. Just another name.

Before heading to see your new patient, you stop by the lounge and grab a cup of coffee. You’d like to run downstairs to the hospital’s coffee shop and get something better, but you need to see your patient first. You chug the bitter coffee, despite it being eight at night. You’re here until morning anyways, running one of your mandatory night shifts.

You stop at the nurse’s station and see Hailey, one of the nurses. “Hailey, have you finished with Mr. Morgan?” you ask. She nods. “Yes, I gave him a full workup. He’s still out from the surgery, but I gave him the usual amount of morphine for someone his size.”

“His size?” you say, furrowing your brow and opening the chart again. In the section stating his height and weight, you read 6’2 and 203 pounds. You mentally shrug your shoulders and thank Hailey, asking if there’s anything more you need to know before going into his room. She shakes her head and goes off towards another room.

When you open the door to Arthur’s room, you look at him lying in the hospital bed. He’s got the usual set up: IV, heart monitor on his finger, cast around his left arm. You open his chart again and read the surgery to fix his arm took just under five hours and they’d had to put a few pins in near his elbow. He also needed a transfusion during surgery. You go over to a board holding up his CT and x-ray scans. It was reported that he may have struck his head on the driver window of his truck and it was thought he might have some swelling in his skull. Luckily, his scans are negative for that and the only thing broken is his arm. He also has a tear in his rotator cuff and a laceration in his calf. Those things considered, he’s very lucky. You’d read the article about the accident. He’s lucky to be alive, his truck was a pretzel.

You check over him. He is quite handsome, but you’re professional of course. He’s not the first handsome man who’s been thrown your way and he certainly won’t be the last. Just as you’re writing down some notes about his condition, his eyes open slightly and he looks around, his eyes landing on you. This is a good opportunity for you to check his mental condition, or at least as much as you can since he’s still under the influence of the anesthesia.

“Hello Arthur, can you hear me?” you say softly, standing close to him.

His heart beat picks up a bit and he breathes out heavily. “Was… accident…” he mumbles in a gruff voice.

“That’s right, you were in an accident. You’re okay though, you’re in the hospital. Just take it easy and relax.”

You give him a few moments to wake up a bit further and collect himself. When you ask him if he’s in any pain, he says no. You offer him a sip of his water and he takes it. Just as you’re lowering the glass and getting ready to leave, his good hand suddenly shoots up and grabs yours. This isn’t unusual, of course. People respond differently when waking up from the drugs he’s on. At least he isn’t being aggressive.

“You’re real pretty,” he says roughly. “Real pretty.” His eyes close and he’s out again. You smile to yourself. When you first came in and noticed his large build and rugged appearance, you didn’t figure he’d be sweet like this. You’re curious how he’ll be when he’s more coherent.

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

It’s nearly five in the morning and you’re nearly done with your shift. It’s been a long night, but not unusual. You’re making your last rounds again to check on your patients before heading home. You stop by Arthur’s room and go in. Rebecca, another nurse, is in the room, checking on his supply of fluids and the monitors.

“Did he wake at all?” you ask.

“Only for a moment or two. Said he wasn’t feeling much.”

“Good,” you say, but you’re curious. Rebecca’s pretty, much prettier than you in your opinion. “Hey, when he was awake, did he call you pretty?”

“No,” she says and you can tell she’s being honest. “Why?”

“Hmm, nothing. Just… heard from one of the other nurses he’d called them pretty,” you lie. You’ve never once thought of yourself as attractive, but pride yourself on acting like you don’t care. You’ll die before you admit to anyone that the one thing you want most is to curl up in the arms of someone who loves you. You’ve been alone so long, you’ve given up on exploring what that feels like, so you’ve pretended like you don’t care, that you prefer being alone.

Rebecca smiles. “Well, lucky her. He’s cute! Got that rough look some girls just love.”

“You mean you love,” you tease. She giggles and walks out. You sigh and go over to his bed, checking him over again despite Rebecca having just done it. You aren’t quite sure why, you don’t do this with the other patients when they’ve just been checked on since you can trust the nursing staff. “Get a grip on yourself,” you say quietly. “Just because he called you pretty when he was floating in outer space doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably find you just as ugly as everyone else when he’s back to normal.”

You mentally shake yourself and leave the room before you can make yourself sink further.

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

That night, you’re back for another long 12 hour shift. You hadn’t given this Arthur Morgan another thought from the second you left his room, but now that you’re standing outside of it, you realize the effects of the anesthesia will have completely worn off by now. You brace yourself, ready for him to not remember you at all.

When you open the door, he’s awake, though you can tell he’s still fairly doped up and could very easily fall back into a drug-induced slumber again. He doesn’t even seem to know you’re there until you’re standing next to him.

“Mr. Morgan,” you say softly to catch his attention. He looks up at you and smiles a bit.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Doctor (your last name).”

“You’re my doc?” he says, his voice soft. “Well, ain’t I the luckiest?”

You smile down at him. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan, there are plenty of doctors here that are just as good as me. Some are probably even better.”

“Bet none of ‘em are as pretty as you though.”

This stops you. It wasn’t like the last time when he called you pretty. He’s much more conscious this time, though still doped up. “Like I said, don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan. Now while you’re awake, I want to ask you a few questions.”

You go through the usual questions for someone in his state, making sure he doesn’t have a brain injury, how much of the incident he can recall, and of course if he’s in any pain or experiencing any numbness. Again, he’s lucky, he can recall most of what happened and his pain is manageable.

Just as you’re making your last notes, he catches your attention. “Am I gonna get transferred somewhere else any time soon?”

“Not if we can help it, Mr. Morgan. We’re hoping you’ll be out of here tomorrow, then you’ll be taken to post-surgery. Once you’re deemed well enough to go home, you’ll be released.”

He smiles again. “Good. Will you be down there with me?”

His question takes you by surprise. Of course you’ve had patients get attached to you, but they’re usually the ones that stay here for longer periods of time.

“N-no, Mr. Morgan. I’m an ICU doc, I don’t do anything with surgery.”

His smile fades a bit. “But you will come see me, won’t ya?”

You can’t resist the look of hope in his face. “I will do my best, Mr. Morgan.”

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

Arthur stays in your section of the hospital for the remainder of the night, but in the morning he’s well enough to be transferred to post-surgery. You aren’t there when he’s rotated, so when you check the room that night to find it empty, you feel a bit bummed. You go to your office and look up his record to find where he’s been moved. Room 102 in post surgery and he’s scheduled to be released in the morning as long as his new doctor determines the amount of pain he’s in.

You decide to go visit Arthur in his new room to see how he’s doing. You rarely do this for your patients, except for those you take an academic interest in (such as a few years ago when a teenage girl got ejected from a vehicle and lived). You’ve never done it because of a personal interest though.

After making your rounds, you make your way to the post surgery unit. You greet some of the doctors you pass by, some of them you know. Finally you find room 102. You knock on the door and open it, wondering if he’s asleep. His TV’s on, playing some silly late night adult cartoon, but his eyes are closed. You can tell by his expression he’s not asleep.

You approach his bed slowly and he opens his eyes, a smile immediately stretching across his face. “Hey doc. I’m real glad you came to see me.”

“Hello, Mr. Morgan. Just wanted to make sure you’re adjusting fine,” you lie.

“Oh I’m peachy.”

“You glad to be going home tomorrow? I’m sure they explained the process to you of dealing with your broken arm.”

“They did, yes. But I ain’t too sure about how I’m gonna get home. Call an Uber I guess.”

“You don’t have someone to pick you up and take you home?” you ask.

“Nah. I’ve lived alone on my ranch for some time now. Used to live with my adopted father, uncle and brother but… father died, uncle went crazy and ran off, my brother did too. Ended up in a big mess and I was left with the ranch they owned. I ain’t got no one. ‘Cept Copper my dog. Ya can call him but he don’t answer his cell hardly ever.”

You laugh, despite yourself. “Bet he would if he could, Mr. Morgan. And I’m real sorry about your predicament. Don’t you have a girlfriend or… someone special who you could depend on?”

Okay, now you’re treading in dangerous waters. Asking him questions to scope out if he’s available or not. What is wrong with you?

“Nah, I was engaged a few years ago but… it didn’t end well. Her daddy didn’t like me and to be honest I ain’t too sure why I ever loved her. She used me a lot. Ain’t had no one since.”

“I almost find that hard to believe, good looking man like yourself.’

Seriously, what is wrong with you? It’s time to stop. You should never have come down here. Just because he called you pretty a couple times when he was doped to hell doesn’t mean he was interested in you. For all you know, he’s just a friendly guy when he’s drugged up. Some patients are like that. You once had a woman younger than you try to adopt you and the rest of your staff when she came out of having surgery and got tossed to your department.

“Nah, most women don’t seem interested in me. ‘Sides, I ain’t what I’d call good looking,” he says.

“Hmm, well maybe you need to look at yourself from someone else’s perspective, Mr. Morgan.” Okay, you’re really pushing your personal envelope here. It’s time to leave before you step into dangerous waters. Close the curtains on this before you get into something you’ll regret. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing better, Mr. Morgan. I’m real sorry for your predicament, but it could certainly be worse.”

You close his chart and begin turning to leave, making yourself silently promise to never make it a point to see him again. Just as you’re about to grab the door handle, he calls to you.

“You, uh, you ain’t single, I’m guessin’,” he says.

“W-why?” you ask.

“Well,” he’s blushing now. “Was thinkin’ I’d really like to get to know ya. Not when I’m stuck in a hospital bed with God knows what bein’ pumped into me so I don’t feel nothin’. Proper, I wanna get to know ya proper. Take ya to dinner maybe.” He rubs the back of his neck with his good hand. “Course if you’re with someone, I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

You sigh and turn to face him. “I’m not with anyone, Mr. Morgan. Trust me, though. You don’t wanna date me. I’m… I’m a workaholic. Most of my time is spent here and when I am at home I’m doing paperwork.”

“Well it’s nice to know you’re so dedicated to your career but that don’t tell me a damn thing about ya.”

You shuffle your feet and look away. “You’re better off not knowing me, Mr. Morgan. Most people get to know me don’t like me. Not like that anyways.”

“Can I be my own judge on that?” he asks. “Please, doc, I’d love to take ya to dinner. Humor me just once?”

You sigh. “Okay.”

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

A few weeks have gone by and you haven’t heard a peep from Arthur, despite having exchanged cell numbers with him. Not that you’re surprised. Once he weaned himself off the major painkillers, he probably came to his senses. You try to pretend to yourself that you’re not bummed about it and drown yourself in work. It’s hard to convince yourself that you weren’t excited though. You haven’t been on a date in years.

Just as you’ve finally begun to forget the whole thing, your cell phone goes off on one of the few nights you have to yourself. You pick it up and read the text. “Sorry I haven’t spoken to you since I was released. Been trying to put my life back together. Dinner still? -Arthur.”

So he hasn’t forgotten you. Your stomach tightens. Do you really want to go through with this? Part of you wants to lie and say you’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else. “Come on, Y/N,” another voice says. “You didn’t get to becoming a doctor through squeezing out of uncomfortable situations. If it ends up awkward, just get some bread rolls, hightail it out of there and block his number.”

It’s been ages since you did something for yourself on a personal level though. Sure, you’ve done a lot of things you didn’t like in order to advance in your education and your career, but not on a personal level.

It’s been ten minutes since you got his text and you’ve been arguing with yourself on whether or not to take him up. Finally you pick up your phone and type “I’d love that.”

A few moments go by and he responds back, asking where you’d like to go.

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

Three days later, you’re standing outside your favorite restaurant, an Indian place, waiting for him to arrive. You’re still scared of what might happen tonight, but you’re betting nothing good will happen. You doubt he’ll attack you or anything, most likely he’ll just figure out he really doesn’t like you and then never speak to you again. Hell, he might already be ghosting you. Whatever, if he is, no skin off your nose. You’ll just order out from this place and take it home to watch your favorite movie.

It’s fifteen minutes past when he said he’d be here, but still nothing. You sigh and start turning to walk in when you hear the engine of a truck pull into the driveway. Turning around, you see a gray Dodge Ram pulling into a space. A moment later, Arthur gets out of it. He beams when he sees you, his arm still in a cast and walking with a slight limp.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic jam held me up.” He grabs the door and holds it open for you.

“Oh, th-thanks,” you say.

Over dinner, Arthur asks you a ton of questions about yourself. You’ve never opened up so much to anyone, but he seems so genuine in his responses and so enthusiastic about getting to know you, you can’t help it. You end up staying at the restaurant for two hours.

He reveals a lot about himself as well, what his life is like now and how it used to be before his family fell apart. You can’t help but think you couldn’t find a more loyal, hard working man than him. By the end of the two hours, you can’t help but wonder if you’re feeling something for him.

You finally leave the restaurant, but more for the sake of the waiting staff than anything else. Arthur walks you over to your car. When you get there, he stops you. “Y/N, thanks for lettin’ me take ya to dinner.”

Oh no, he’s going to follow up with this by telling you he isn’t interested in going further. You mentally prepare yourself to block this in order to protect yourself.

“I’d love to go out with ya again, if you’d like. Ya seem like a wonderful person.”

“Huh?” you say out loud.

“I, uh, I said-”

“No I know what you said,” you respond, your face burning. You hadn’t meant to voice your confusion. “I meant… why in the hell would you want to go out with me? Honestly you’re a trooper for doing it once. You must be insane for wanting a second go.”

He cocks his head to the side slightly. “You really don’t like yourself much, do you?”

His question causes you to blush even more. You look down at your feet, not sure what to say. “I guess not. That’s why I became a doctor. I didn’t do it because I wanted to help people. Just… guess I wanted to boost my own ego.”

He sighs heavily. “Y/N, can I try somethin’ with ya? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“What is it?” you ask quietly, on the verge of tearing up.

He extends his good arm, holding it out to you. You realize what he’s offering to do. You can’t remember the last time anyone hugged you, or even touched you in any kind of affection. He slowly approaches and you feel yourself tensing up. His arm gently wraps around you, his hand gently touching your mid back. He slowly pulls you to him until you have to settle against his chest. You find yourself leaning into him though. God, he’s warm and he’s firm. He smells good too. You’d been worried he wanted to hug you in order to gain some kind of grounds for sex, but this feels different. Platonic, almost. His arm grips you tight and you rest against him. A vortex of emotions goes through you. Confusion, fear, yearning, but most of all, gratitude. You know exactly what effects physical touch can do to a person, the chemicals it releases. How humans are wired to thrive better both physically and mentally through touch. Yet you’ve received so little of it, it feels almost alien to you.

As he continues to hold you, you suddenly find yourself crying into his blue plaid shirt. You don’t know why, either. As the first few tears fall, you feel something inside yourself breaking like a dam and you’re sobbing. He pulls away, looking down at you, a worried expression on his face.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you upset. You shoulda said you didn’t like-”

“No it’s not you, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” you sniffle, rubbing your cheeks dry. “I don’t know why I’m crying, Arthur. All I know is… you’ve shown me more kindness tonight than I’ve experienced throughout the last five years.”

“Jesus, Y/N, I done hardly nothin’.” He looks down, the expression of worry changing to sorrow. He extends his arm again to you and you happily go into it, resting against his warm, strong body.

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

You’ve been on multiple dates with Arthur at this point. During every single one of them, he’s made it a point to hold you close to him. He knows now just how touch-depraved and starved you are. He’s the same way, he’s admitted, so he enjoys the opportunities too. Your last date had been nothing but you both curling up on your couch wrapped in each other’s embrace as you watched a movie. You ended up falling asleep in his arm, but he didn’t move at all. He just loved the sensation of having someone he loved trust him enough to do so.

Your first kiss had been sweet. It had been sunset and Arthur insisted on taking a walk in a park not too far from your house. He’d held your hand the entire time, but halfway through your walk, he’d stopped you and pulled you into a kiss. He didn’t push things further with you than that, but since then you’ve kissed him every time you’ve seen him. Even those times you’ve only seen him for five minutes.

You’ve started to really fall hard for him. You’re starting to think you want to sleep with him. How could you not, after all? He’s handsome, tall, broad, but more than that, he’s sweet, thoughtful, and compassionate. However, it will be hard for you to make love to him with his cast still on. Even when it comes off, he’ll need physical therapy. But you might be able to make things work.

That night when he comes over, you greet him with a home cooked dinner (a rare occurrence for you). He greets you with a sweet, soft kiss. After dinner, you take his hand.

“I have a surprise for you,” you say, trembling lightly. You haven’t slept with anyone since college, and those people you felt no affections for. You’d slept with them to blow off steam to handle the stress of school. Arthur’s different. You want to have sex with him to show him how much you love him.

“Oh?” Arthur says, curious. You lead him to your bedroom. He’s well acquainted with it. One night you’d gotten pretty sick from some bad food. When you told him your predicament, he’d come over and slept in your bed, holding you all night. He’s spent several nights in your bed since, but he’s never tried pulling a move.

When you get to your room, you guide him to sit down on your bed. When he’s positioned, you slip off your shirt and then your bra. You can hear his breathing pick up and his eyes go down to your tits.

“Ya… ya sure?” he asks.

You bite your lip, smile and nod. “Yes, Arthur. I’m ready.” You slide into his lap, straddling him and gently push him to lay on his back. He does so, letting you take complete control. You undress him slowly, being aware of his injured arm. He’s so goddamn attractive, you can’t help but admire the hair on his chest, his firm arms, his treasure trial, beyond that. You already know he’s going to put all your past sexual encounters to shame.

“Let me take a refresher course in anatomy, Mr. Morgan. You obviously don’t mind being my subject,” you say. God, you couldn’t make this sound more like a bad porno if you tried. Oh well, he seems excited. You mentally roll your eyes at yourself and go to work.

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

In the morning, you wake up still naked, lying with your head on Arthur’s chest. His heart drums in your ears. His hand starts brushing through your hair, he knows you’re awake. You look up at him and smile.

“I never asked if you liked my surprise,” you say.

He grins. “More than you know.” He leans up and kisses you sweetly. “When this arm’s better, I’ll make sure to really give you a good time, darlin’.”

You groan into his mouth. He’d done some pretty amazing things to you last night you definitely won’t forget for a long time, if ever. “I can’t wait.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female #awkward asks

40 notes · View notes

sophcaro · 5 years

Text

Destiny | WMatsui - Chapter 40 Part 2

“First time in Paris?”

“Oh no, it’s my second time,” Rena, mustering her best English, replied to the male taxi driver. “But the first time was for work.”

“You’ll love it here,” the French taxi driver glanced back at her through the rearview car mirror. “Many, many monuments to see. Paris est une si belle ville! Beautiful Paris! Paris is a romantic city!”

“Yes,” Rena replied, entertained by the driver’s enthusiasm and his mixture of French and broken English. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it here.”

“You will! Trust me!”

The taxi driver fell quiet, listening to the animated Sport talk show on radio. Rena observed the traffic outside the window. By the time their plane arrived at the French airport and they retrieved their suitcases, it was 6:30 p.m. when each couple hopped in a taxi. The airport crowded exit mingled with the peak time had led them straight into traffic, the slow progress of the car not failing to put Jurina asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, they managed to get out of the traffic jam, Rena amazed at the scenery unfolding in front of her as they drove through the center of Paris. Rena marveled at the view of the Arc de Triomphe, then the endless line of characteristic 19th century bourgeois apartments and buildings, until arriving at the Seine River as they crossed the Alma Bridge. For a while, the taxi drove along the river, the actress taking in the Iena Bridge on their right, until the view of the ‘Iron Lady,’ the emblematic Eiffel Tower on her left, made her understand that they were approaching their final destination.

A few times along the way, Rena couldn’t help thinking it was a real shame that Jurina was sleeping. She should be enjoying with her such a beautiful view. At some point, she had considered waking her up. In the end, Rena had refrained from doing it and let the younger girl continue her peaceful nap. They would have plenty opportunities to appreciate the city during their week holiday.

It was the second time Rena came to Paris, but she couldn’t say she had visited much of it. In 2009, she had been part of the trip with other AKB48 members when the idol group had been invited to perform in Paris at the Japan Expo, a French convention popular for celebrating Japanese’s culture, animation and music. It had been a short trip, most of the girls merely having the occasion to see the city, while dozing off from the long, tiring flight, through the window of a bus.

The least Rena could say, it’s that none of them truly had the chance to appreciate to its fullest the beauty and charms of the French capital. Despite the distant memory, Paris had left quite an impression on her, and Rena promised herself to return one day. To be perfectly sincere, this trip came at the right moment. These last years, she had been so swamped with work, that she never had been able to afford more than a couple of days off. For those holidays abroad, Rena had succeeded in clearing her schedule for a full week and was accompanied not simply by wonderful friends, but also the person she loved and shared her daily life. To add it up, those vacations were taking place just after Rena’s 30th birthday, making this trip to Paris all the more special to her.

While Rena and Yuki approached the hotel counter to check in, Jurina was desperately trying to stay awake. The long 12-hour flight, coupled with the jetlag, were getting the best of her, and she had to clench the handle of the suitcase to not collapse in the hallway. Blinking the sleep away for the umpteenth time, a flash of lucidity reminded her of an important task she was supposed to take care of, one she had utterly forgotten at their arrival at the French airport. Not wasting another minute, Jurina quickly retrieved her phone from her vest.

“Who are you texting?” Mayu, who was standing by her side, and passing time by playing a game on her phone, asked in confusion.

“My mom,” Jurina answered sleepily, gathering her last remnant of energy to concentrate on the content of the message. “To tell her that we’ve arrived.”

“At that time?” Mayu leaned closer, checking the text she was typing. “Wait. You actually are! You do realize it’s 3 a.m. in Japan?”

“Yes,” Jurina sighed, stealing a peek at their respective partners. They were still occupied with the receptionist, and she resumed her text. “If I don’t do it now, I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep and forget. She could have stayed awake to receive the confirmation that I arrived. I don’t want to take the risk of her texting Rena.”

“She would do that?” Mayu asked, astounded.

Jurina cringed. “Oh, she could.” She read the message, making sure it contained all the necessary information and was as coherent as possible, then pressed the button Send. “If you knew how many times she texted Rena these last months… you would be surprised.”

“Careful,” Mayu grinned. “Next thing you know, she will stop texting you and only go through Rena. I don’t blame her. Your girlfriend is obviously more reliable when it comes to getting info.”

Jurina glared at her. “Very funny.”

“You know it’s true,” Mayu quipped. “Last time you both came to our place for dinner, I had to text Rena to know when you would arrive. You had omitted to warn me that you had an interview in the evening.”

“Oh, that…” Jurina flushed. “But for my defense, this interview was a last-minute thing! It wasn’t planned. I meant to text you, but I got distracted and completely forgot.” Reflecting upon Mayu’s words, Jurina gazed at her in a mixture of worry and guilt. “I don’t do that often, do I? Forget, I mean.”

“No, you don’t,” Mayu replied impishly. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Mayu,” Jurina growled. “How come you are so full of energy? I barely have the strength to stand up.”

“I slept on the plane,” Mayu explained. She frowned at the bags under Jurina’s eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t find sleep, so I listened to music and watched movies,” Jurina confessed sheepishly.

“You were too excited,” Mayu stated matter-of-factly. “It’s fine. Tomorrow morning is program free.”

“Right…” Jurina murmured, relief sweeping through her at the reminder. “Don’t worry about me. I need one good night sleep, and I’ll be in top form.”

“I have no doubt,” Mayu said amusingly.

“We’ve got them!” The sight of Yuki waving the keycards in front of them brought both friends out of their discussion. “We’re all on the second floor. Let’s go to our rooms. God, I’m so exhausted. How did you manage to sleep so well on the plane?” Yuki asked Mayu, her expression changing to one of incredulity. “I don’t believe I have the strength to go out for dinner. What do you think if we order room service?”

“I don’t mind,” Mayu answered.

Rena, witnessing her girlfriend’s sleepiness, chimed in. “Yes. I think we’ll probably do the same.”

The four friends took the direction of the elevator, getting down at floor 2, splitting up in the corridor after agreeing to meet the next day for breakfast. From her peripheral vision, Jurina saw the other couple disappearing in room 26, before hearing the distinctive sound of the keycard opening the room she shared with Rena. She followed the older girl as she progressed inside room 22.

The decoration of the room stole Jurina’s breath away. From the wallpaper, to the curtains, cushions, bedside lamp and armchair, the room followed an impeccable pattern of red and black warm colors. Large paintings on the walls, representing popular views and monuments of Paris, and underlined by quotes from French writers, perfected the romantic atmosphere. But what caught the most Jurina’s attention, were the hundreds of red petals of rose spread all over the bed.

“Did you... Did you book a special room?” Jurina gasped.

“No, I didn’t,” Rena replied innocently. “But I have to admit it’s a very nice room. Don’t you think?”

“It’s not just nice,” Jurina corrected, sweeping around the place in amazement. “It’s… It’s so beautiful.”

Jurina left her suitcase aside and approached the king-size bed, her palm grazing over the soft, silky surface of the red colored bed scarf. She laid down on the bed, resting on the red square cushion, marveling at the sight of the bed of roses. Her fingers brushed the red petals, letting them slip through her fingers. She glanced back at Rena with awe. “I can’t believe we got such a beautiful room.”

“We are in Paris,” Rena came to lay by her side on the bed. She wrapped her arm around Jurina’s back, holding her snugly. “Maybe this hotel wants to live up to the city’s romantic image?”

“I guess,” Jurina murmured, her sleepy state of mind preventing her from elaborating any other possible explanation. “I’m not… I’m not really hungry.”

“I figured,” Rena’s tone was kind and understanding. “If you don’t want to eat, you should at least change clothes before going to sleep.”

Jurina didn’t reply, losing herself in the lulling sensation of Rena’s hand stroking the length of her back. Jurina closed the distance between them, Rena meeting her halfway as their lips connected in a short kiss. Jurina studied her, warmth in her eyes, fighting hard to stay conscious. Against her will, Rena’s image slowly blurred, Jurina’s heavy pupils closing without her consent as her body surrendered to exhaustion.

When Jurina woke up, the first thing she noticed was the bright, sunny light filtering underneath the double curtains, clear indication that the morning was well-advanced. Relieved to feel quite rested, she took pleasure in watching her girlfriend’s peacefully sleeping form, before stiffening when she discovered what she was wearing. Why was she in her daily clothes? Jurina searched her mind for an explanation, retracing the events of the previous evening. She remembered entering the hotel room and laying down on the comfy bed but the rest was a complete blur. Confused by the gaps in her memory, Jurina turned to the side when she felt the body next to her stirring up.

“Morning…” Rena whispered; she planted a gentle kiss on Jurina’s forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

Jurina lit up at the affectionate gesture, completing the morning routine by lacing their hands together. Jurina’s attention fell upon her own ring finger, the silver band another reminder that something had definitely gone wrong the previous night. “I did,” she replied, gazing back and forth questioningly between her own appearance and her slowly awakening girlfriend. “What happened? Why did I… Why did you let me go to sleep like this?”

“I see someone has a bad recollection of yesterday,” Rena said with a slight giggle. “I suggested you to change into your pajamas, but you didn’t listen. You fell asleep soon after your head touched the pillow.”

“Really?” Jurina blinked, destabilized that she couldn’t remember any of it. “I guess… I guess I was exhausted.”

“Yes, you were.” A flicker of amusement crossed Rena’s features. “Let’s not mention how complicated it was to get you out of the taxi without you stumbling, or the fact that you confused our suitcases and entered the hotel with mine.”

Jurina was stunned by the revelation. “No, I didn’t… I didn’t do that.”

“You did,” Rena laughed. “So, now that you’re fully rested…” She stroked Jurina’s face, tracing her cheekbones, and gently kissed her on the cheek. “Are you ready to start our visit of Paris?”

“Isn’t this morning supposed to be program free?” Jurina asked for confirmation, receiving a nod in reply. “We can join Mayu and Yuki for breakfast, then decide what to do? But first, I need a shower. I can’t believe I fell asleep fully-clothed. I don’t even remember the last time that happened.”

“And I couldn’t do anything about it,” Rena added jokingly, watching her troubled girlfriend getting out of bed and approaching her suitcase. “You were sleeping like a log.”

Jurina, who was working on the lock combination, felt the color in her cheeks rising at the embarrassing reminder. “Dammit…” she muttered to herself after a second failed attempt. “W-What’s my code again?”

Rena was ready to laugh, but smiled widely instead. “8 0 3. If I remember correctly, it has never changed in 10 years.”

“Thanks,” Jurina said gratefully, despite being conscious of the blatant teasing she was being subjected to. Without further delay, she opened her suitcase and grabbed a pair of flesh clothes. “I’m going to take a shower. I won’t be long.”

Jurina vanished inside the bathroom and Rena slowly straightened up in bed, allowing herself to relax. In the background, water was falling in the shower, and Rena took time to appreciate the warm red and black colors of the hotel room decoration, reminding her that they definitely were in the city of love and romance. Her gaze fell upon the rose petals spread all over the bedsheet, amused by Jurina’s reaction the previous evening. She glanced around the place, lingering on the French quote underlining a painting of Montmartre.

La vie c’est des étapes… La plus douce c’est l’amour… La plus dure c’est la séparation… La plus pénible c’est les adieux… La plus belle c’est les retrouvailles.

Rena read it carefully, using her French lessons and vocabulary knowledge of the foreign language to decipher it. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the opportunity to decrypt its meaning to its fullest that she got distracted by the bathroom door opening, witnessing in mild-amusement a Jurina clad in her underwear rummaging frenetically through her suitcase. Most visibly, someone was not satisfied with the clothes she had previously chosen.

As their gazes suddenly met across the room, the corners of Jurina’s mouth turned up into a mischievous expression. “What are you staring at?”

“The girl walking half-naked in my hotel room,” Rena shot back playfully.

“Your hotel room?”

“Yes, mine,” Rena answered, in a fake shocked tone. “I booked it. Please don’t tell me you forgot about that too.”

Jurina, her previous goal all forgotten, left her suitcase aside and got up on her feet, progressing towards the bed. When Rena laid down from her previous seated position, Jurina understood the message conveyed and didn’t hesitate to climb on top of her. “I’m not so sure I should get dressed now,” Jurina claimed her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, pretending to think. “Do you think I need to?”

“Well…” Rena’s fingers ran up Jurina’s sides, stopping under the swell of her breasts and the fabric of her bra, then sliding down her heaving ribs and over her belly. “Eventually, you will need to get dressed if you want to go outside. But that depends entirely on you. I don’t know what you had in mind for this morning.”

Jurina studied her with a mixture of love and fascination, not missing the seductive glint in the depth of Rena’s dark brown orbs. Jurina was spellbound by her eyes, ensnared in her gaze, and her mouth swooped down to capture hers once more. The kiss was passionate and hungry, filled with all the feelings for her coursing through her veins. As it was returned with equal want and passion, Jurina felt a rush of warm emotion, Rena’s dexterous fingers traveling around to her back and prompt to unhook her bra.

Yuki was humming a cheery melody as she turned at the corner of the corridor, Mayu’s steps following closely behind as they approached room 22. This morning, Yuki was in a wonderful mood. Not only had she recovered from her lack of sleep, she was impatient to start their visit of the French capital. The last time she had visited the city of love was four years ago and she always hoped to come back, this time not for work purposes but for pleasure.

“I’ll see if they are up,” Yuki said, getting a brief nod from Mayu who was busy checking her phone. Yuki halted in front of the hotel door and raised her arm, stopping in mid-air when she perceived explicit noises coming from the other side. “M-Maybe…” She froze, and had to stop and work out her words. “Maybe we should go to breakfast without them.”

Mayu raised from the screen. “What? Why? Yesterday, we all agreed to meet for breakfast, remember?”

“I-I do,” Yuki spoke lamely. “This morning is supposed to be program free, right?” She added with an attempt at lightness. “So, why don’t we let them enjoy their morning as they wish? We’ll meet them later.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Mayu said with a frown. “It’s past 9 a.m. Maybe they forgot to check the time, or didn’t hear their alarm-clock.”

When Mayu took a decided step forward to knock, Yuki grabbed her arm urgently. “No, Mayuyu, we really shouldn’t interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?” A pregnant silence stretched out between them. When Mayu caught the sounds coming from inside the room, her mouth twitched with amusement. “Oh, I see. Yes, it’s best to go downstairs. They’ll join us later. Maybe.”

“Yes. Maybe,” Yuki said awkwardly.

Turning on their heels, they walked towards the elevator, Mayu taking the initiative to press the button to call it when the girl by her side seemed completely lost in her thoughts. “I can’t blame them. It’s Paris. They got affected by the romantic atmosphere and couldn’t help themselves.”

Yuki stared back at her in bafflement. “On the first day?!”

“Why not?” Mayu shrugged. “Anyway. What did you have in mind for this morning? We’re supposed to visit the Eiffel Tower, no?”

“Y-Yes,” Yuki cleared her throat, trying to recollect herself. “I mean, I don’t remember our program. We were supposed to visit The Eiffel Tower this morning? Are you sure? Or was it tomorrow?”

Surprise, then disbelief, crossed Mayu’s features. “It’s been a while I’ve seen my Yukirin so flustered.”

“Of course, I am!” Yuki exclaimed dramatically. “It’s our friends we’re talking about! It was way too embarrassing to hear… that!”

The elevator opened and they entered. “But why? What do you think they usually do in bed?” Mayu asked cheekily. “Play chess? Conjugate Latin verbs?”

“Mayuyu! Will you stop it?!” Yuki groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I had finally managed to erase the image from my mind, and you had to put it back!”

Mayu’s lips quirked in a twisted smile. “You haven’t answered my questi-”

“That’s enough,” Yuki glared at her, slapping her arm. “Promise me we’ll never talk about that anymore. Promise me!”

“Fine, fine,” Mayu stifled a laugh. When she noted Yuki’s disapprobation, she quickly pecked her cheek. “I promise. I won’t mention it.”

Yuki breathed a sigh of relief, failing to catch the lie hidden behind Mayu’s mask of innocence and the fingers crossed behind her back.

Buffet was closed when Jurina and Rena considered their morning program, deciding it was a shame to order room service when the city had plenty to offer. After a short stroll in the neighborhood of their hotel, they stopped in front of the characteristic red storefront of a French Café, and settled down at the terrace. They didn’t have to wait long to be served, a hearty breakfast composed of croissants, buttered toasts, jam, fresh orange juice, and café crème soon being placed between them.

Jurina took in every single detail surrounding her, from listening to the locals speaking the language of Molière, to the black vests and long white aprons worn by the male waiters serving them, without forgetting the breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower. Being her first time in Paris, it was too easy to fall prey to the irresistibly charming romantic atmosphere. Her observation seemed to reach no end, until her gaze landed at last on the quiet older girl sitting opposite her.

“How do you like Paris so far?” Rena took a sip of her cup of coffee, the fresh brew delighting her nostrils with the mocha aroma.

“It’s…” Jurina sighed dreamily, relaxing back in her chair. “It’s beautiful. What about you? Is Paris faithful to the memory you had of it?”

Rena settled down her drink on the small round table separating them, pondering over her question. “It’s hard to say. I was 17 when I came to Paris for the first time. My main concern was to not mess up the choreography, and remember the lyrics of the songs I had to perform, especially in French. I was so stressed and sleep-deprived, that the rest of the trip is a blur. We barely had any free time to visit the city, and I was too exhausted to remember much of it anyway.”

“You had to sing in French?!” Jurina gasped in shock.

“Yes, when I did a duet with Kasai Tomomi,” Rena laughed, reminiscently. “You should have seen her: she exulted such confidence on stage. Me? I was a bundle of nerves. I didn’t understand a single word I was saying; I had to learn everything phonetically. I rehearsed the song countless of times the previous evening in my hotel room, and even again before the performance. I did my best, but I’m not convinced the audience managed to understand my terrible pronunciation.”

“Your pronunciation sounded very good to me when you spoke to the waiter,” Jurina said confidently. “I would be incapable of saying more than a few words.”

“I should lend you some of my books then, if you’re interested in learning new languages,” Rena offered. “After all, I know you’ve always been fascinated by Le Petit Prince. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me each time I’m reading it.”

“Rena…” Jurina chuckled softly at her girlfriend’s teasing tone. Rena’s almost obsessive passion for this particular story was one she still couldn’t fully comprehend. How many times had she discovered the book slipped in the actress’ suitcase, or witnessed her girlfriend reading it for the umpteenth time before going to bed? Too many to count, assuredly. “I don’t think it’s wise of me to learn another language when I already struggle with English. Besides, I know the essential when it comes to French.”

“You do?” Rena’s brow furrowed. “Like what?”

“Bonjour, ça va, pain, au revoir, and of course, last but not the least,” Jurina’s voice took on a sensuous undertone as she slid her hand across the table, catching Rena’s inside hers. “Je t’aime.”

Rena suppressed a laugh at Jurina’s cheesiness. “Yes, you know the essential. What else could you possibly need to learn?”

The moment was broken by the sound of Rena’s phone beeping. “It’s a text from Yuki. They reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. She sent a picture. She says the view is beautiful.”

“Oh, they went to visit it this morning? I can’t wait to visit it too,” Jurina said enthusiastically, checking the attached picture Rena was showing her. “When are we visiting it?”

“On the last day,” Rena replied without the slight hesitation. “I thought it would be a great idea to finish our vacations with Paris’s most emblematic monument.”

Jurina was caught off guard by the sudden glint in Rena’s eyes. It reminded her of a similar reaction her girlfriend had harbored at Haneda Airport. Rena had been the one to plan their holidays up to the finest detail, a task Jurina had been happy to let her take care of when she had witnessed the determination and pleasure Rena was having in taking matters in hand. Jurina couldn’t shake off the feeling that her girlfriend seemed to have a hidden agenda, but she chose not to interrogate her. Nevermind what it might be, she trusted her to have elaborated the best program to make their vacations to the city of love as memorable as possible.

Notre-Dame de Paris, one of the most emblematic monuments of Paris, had suffered from a dreadful fire. In April 2019, Rena had been shocked by the devastating news, one that hadn’t failed to make the world news headlines. The wave of solidarity following the incident had been impressive: in barely three days, 1 billion euros of donations managed to be raised. The emotional response to the tragedy had transcended borders, languages and cultures, and donations to help support the reconstruction had poured from all around the globe.

During nine long hours, the flames had threatened to destroy and burn down Notre-Dame to ashes. It was past 8 p.m. when the relentless fight of the 400 firefighters had paid off, and they succeeded in putting a definitive end to the fire. When all prognostics imagined the worst outcome, Notre-Dame had survived. Its foundations had remained intact, proving its remarkable solidity. The cathedral, admired by 14 million of visitors every year, and fruit of the technical feat of past architects and builders, had been designed to cross time.

As she and Jurina were walking through the parvis of the Cathedral, it was inconceivable not to pause. From the doors closed to the public during the reconstruction period, to the workers repairing stone by stone what had been lost in the fire, it was too soon to oversee what the final cathedral would look like. Its construction had begun in the 12s century and overgone through many phases of restoration over time, especially in the 19s century when it took its final radiant Gothic form.

From aside, Rena observed Jurina’s sadness. She squeezed her hand in comfort, Jurina leaning upon her shoulder in return. Under such circumstances, no words needed to be exchanged to realize that they were both equally moved by the devastating sight. Just as them, dozens of bystanders, locals and tourists, were stopping by and observing the damage done to the majestic monument.

During the course of the 21s century, the cathedral would be going through another major phase of restoration: it would need a few more years to reopen and regain its splendor. That day of April 15, Notre-Dame had been severely hit, but had not fallen. Nevermind how long it would take, Rena had no doubt it would be contemplated and praised once more for its powerful symbol and architectural magnificence.

The sun was high in the sky when Jurina and Rena walked amongst the secondhand booksellers of the quays of the Seine, pausing every now and then to check the numerous book stalls. The Bouquinistes of Paris, booksellers of used and antiquarians’ books, was an obliged passage for any first visitor. It was a national treasure and a worldwide renown institution, one that lead millions of tourists every year to stop by and take a stroll, from the Quai de la Tournelle to Quai Voltaire on the left bank, to Pont Marie to Quai du Louvre on the right side.

At the invitation of a bookseller, Rena took a step forward, her fascination for old books having never wavered over the years. It was one of the ambivalences that existed within her: much as she enjoyed the modern technology of Tokyo, there was nothing like smelling and turning the pages of an old book. As anticipated, most of them were written in French and Rena had no difficulty recognizing illustrious authors, from Victor Hugo and Maupassant, to Alexandre Dumas and Baudelaire.

By her side, Jurina was admiring a series of postcards and drawings, depicting notorious places and monuments of the capital, as well as more simple scenes of everyday life in the 19th century. It was a return to the past, the cobblestone streets, horse carriages, and steam-engine testimony of what Paris had once looked like. It represented an age that didn’t exist anymore, but could still be witnessed in the old and preserved districts of the city.

While Jurina addressed the French bookseller in a tentative English, and bought a couples of posters and pictures to her liking, Rena opted for an old edition of Zola’s Germinal and one of The Petit Prince that she didn’t have in her collection: a purchase she was certain Jurina wouldn’t fail to tease her about later on. Following that, they continued their walk to cross Pont Marie, pausing over the bridge to observe the endless passage of boats on the Seine. Rena didn’t know how long they remained standing there, relishing in the sight and relaxing atmosphere enveloping them, until she got distracted by the feeling of Jurina gently tugging at her hand.

Rena glanced back at her in curiosity, following her when Jurina lead them further across the bridge, until they stopped in front of an impressive display of locks. A young couple was standing in front of them, hanging a lock with their names written on it, and exchanging words of affection. Once they departed, Jurina slipped away from Rena’s grasp to open her own backpack, a small orange heart-shaped lock appearing inside her palm.

Rena’s mouth dropped. “A lock? When did you buy it?”

“In Tokyo, before leaving,” Jurina brightened with pride. “When I learned about this tradition of love bridges, there was no way I couldn’t do it.”

Following her own words, Jurina didn’t hesitate to step forward and, searching for an adequate place, carefully attached the lock to the grid. The flashy orange color made it stand out amongst the hundreds of other lovers’ locks. Rena studied the lock more closely, noticing that their names had been personally handwritten by Jurina, along with the cute drawing of a heart.

“I don’t… I don’t remember seeing you putting it in your suitcase,” Rena, warmth spreading through her chest, laced their fingers together when the younger girl came back to stand by her side.

“Of course, you didn’t,” Jurina replied with playful assurance. “I didn’t want the surprise to be ruined, so I made sure you weren’t looking.”

Rena laughed at Jurina’s sneaky action. For a while, they quietly remained standing in front of the impressive display of locks, lost in the romantic atmosphere created by the place. “It’s really beautiful,” Rena murmured, and couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her cheek. “There’s no rush, but when you’re ready, we can progress onto our next activity.”

Jurina let out a blissful sigh. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Following a short pleasant walk under the sun along the river bank, they waited in line for their turn to get aboard the pleasure boat. Rena prepared their booked tickets, listening as her girlfriend showed great eagerness for the upcoming excursion on the Seine. After taking their seats and putting on their audio guides, Rena couldn’t help but reflect once more upon Jurina’s last touching romantic gesture, knowing that the city of love was about to reserve them many more surprises.

It was past 4 p.m. when they returned to their hotel, Jurina thankful that today had been program free. Even though she had recovered from her lack of sleep, there was no denying that she remained partly jetlag from the important time difference. Their last activity for the day, a cruise on an open excursion boat that had provided them with a view of the city and emblematic monuments of Paris from along the river Seine, had been absolutely enjoyable.

Jurina was the one to pass the doorstep of the hotel room first, her feet soon halting on the carpet when she stared at their made-up bed: a red square box, along with a white envelope, had been carefully disposed on the red colored bed scarf. Dropping her backpack on the floor, curiosity got the best of her and she reduced the distance, pleasantly surprised when she opened the letter and discovered a message wishing them a nice stay in Paris, entirely written in Japanese by the hotel staff.

“Rena, look,” Jurina took a seat on the bed, studying the red square box at the effigy of Pierre Hermé. “The hotel prepared again something for us.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Rena came to sit by her side, reading the letter she was handing her. She drew her attention to the unopened box decorated with a yellow ribbon. “That’s really nice of them. Why don’t you open it?”

Jurina didn’t need to be asked twice and proceeded, discovering 12 round biscuits neatly disposed inside the box. “Macaroons,” she murmured in awe.

“It looks like an assortment of fruits rouges. Why don’t you taste one?” Rena said encouragingly.

“I really want to, but…” Jurina hesitated. “But it’s already late. Maybe it’s best to wait after dinner.”

“It’s alright, dinner with Mayu and Yuki isn’t until 8,” Rena replied, reassuring her. When the girl opposite her seemed still caught in a dilemma, Rena removed one macaroon from the box and brought it to Jurina’s mouth. “Come on, you know you want it.”

Jurina couldn’t resist the temptation and welcomed the French patisserie, relishing the sweet strawberry taste lingering on her tongue.

So, how is it?” Rena asked.

Jurina beamed. “Delicious. You should try one.”

“I’m not very hungry, but go on,” Rena politely declined.

“What are you saying?” Jurina shook her head in protest. “I can taste them, but you won’t? Absolutely not.”

Jurina took out a macaroon from the box and, mimicking Rena’s previous action, held it up in front of her. Rena didn’t try to resist, surrendering to her girlfriend’s stubbornness. She appreciated the sweet and delicate raspberry taste, meeting Jurina’s expectant look. “Yes, it’s delicious. You want another one?”

“You shouldn’t tempt me,” Jurina whispered, chastising herself when her tone sounded far less reproachful than intended. Her gaze dropped to the box with uncertainty, itching to taste another macaroon. When she raised her eyes to meet Rena’s, she felt herself shiver. There was now a perceptible difference in Rena’s expression: she harbored a smile no longer sweet, but suggestive.

“Why not?” Rena fetched a third macaroon from the box and approached the biscuit to Jurina’s mouth, only to stop a few inches away. “What’s wrong with a little… temptation?”

Jurina’s heart skipped a beat, and she opened her mouth. While she slowly ate the macaroon, Rena appeared satisfied, her thumb grazing her lower lip again and again, then sliding to her chin as her eyes danced with wicked lust and amusement. Jurina’s stare latched onto her sensuous lips, swallowing hard, not hesitating any longer to succumb to the provocation and greedily seize Rena’s mouth with her own.

Disneyland. If there was one place on earth that always succeeded in bringing out so effortlessly Rena’s childish side, it certainly was the Disney park. Of course, it was beyond question that a visit of Paris wouldn’t be complete without a stop at Rena’s all-time favorite park. The latter had even made sure all four of them didn’t leave the hotel too late to make it right on time for the opening.

It was impossible to miss the way Rena glowed as a child entering a candy store. They walked down the main street, the Sleeping Beauty Castle appearing in the background as they discovered the French version of the theme park. Jurina couldn’t count the number of times Rena had been to the park in Tokyo, mostly with Airi, also managing to drag her along on a couple of occasions. Nevermind the fact Rena knew each and every attraction by heart, her enjoyment never seemed to cease.

It was an unexpected yet fascinating sight to observe the usually so composed and eloquent 30-year-old actress turn into a kid, her persona changing drastically as if a switch had been turned on. Jurina never was as fond of the park as her girlfriend - or of any entertainment park in general - yet she was convinced a great time awaited the four of them on this sunny, beautiful day of August.

They spent the morning going through Adventureland, admiring the sets of the Pirate Galleon and Pirate’s Beach. They explored the mysterious land of Adventure Isle and the Pirates of Caribbean attraction. Their image was immortalized on picture, giving free rein to their imagination and making goofy poses in front of the camera with the notorious characters of the iconic movie.

The morning was well-advanced when Rena decided to raise the stakes by progressing down Frontierland and queuing up at the Big Thunder Mountain. Jurina didn’t see the immediate danger, the morning having been anything but entertaining. Little did she know that she was about to regret her recklessness. Thirty minutes later, when they exited the train and went to check their pictures on the screens, Jurina’s heart was beating wildly, having not entirely recovered from the ride.

The three other girls were delighted about the experience, sharing between them their favorite moments. Jurina could not quite say the same. With the train rattling around the haunting mountain at high speed, or the moments they happened to be in the complete dark, she had been pushed to her limits. Since she was a child, Jurina had never been comfortable with two things: heights and big thrills. With that last attraction, that she naively believed inoffensive, she could tell she had reached her quota of big thrills for the day.

Or for the year.

When Yuki suggested to join the line for the Indiana Jones Temple of Peril, Jurina shuddered at the idea. Today, for some strange reason, Yuki appeared to be on the same page as Rena when it came to the concept of fun. Jurina didn’t need to be given more information to realize that her poor fragile heart wouldn’t handle this next attraction. The title said enough on the terrifying experience that awaited her.

“Great idea!” Jurina heard Rena approving all too easily Yuki’s suggestion. They began making their way towards the designated attraction, Rena leading the group after checking the location and direction on the phone app. “There’s also the Star Wars Hyperspace Mountain and the Phantom Manor I really can’t wait to do.” The high pitch in Rena’s voice betrayed her enthusiasm.

“That sounds… scary,” Yuki winced.

A wave of relief swept through Jurina’s chest: at last, someone was voicing out loud her précised concerns.

A short moment of silence followed suit, until Yuki exclaimed. “Count me in! I don’t care! I’m up for the challenge!”

Jurina blanched at Yuki’s radical change of heart.

Undoubtedly, she was pleased that Yuki and Rena got along, and they had developed a closer friendship over the past eight months. However, she wasn’t particularly at ease with this new diabolic alliance. Giving a quick side glance to Mayu, she secretly prayed for support, only to notice in dismay the latter nodding in approval to the suggestion. In a split second, Jurina’s apprehension grew a notch: she was outnumbered.

Jurina followed the three girls in silence, repeating to herself again and again that she was 24 years old and it was time to stop being so afraid. She wasn’t a kid anymore. If others could do it, why couldn’t she? As they approached their final destination, the view of the infamous attraction coupled with the screams reaching her, ended up getting the best of her resolve. Her steps slowed down, almost as if she was unconsciously trying to delay the inevitable.

An action that caught Rena’s attention. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot,” Rena murmured apologetically. “Let’s skip it. We’ll do another one.”

“N-No, I’m fine,” Jurina protested, putting up a brave front. “It’s probably not as frightening as it sounds. I’m not afraid. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Rena asked skeptically. “Be honest with me. You don’t have to force yourself for my sake.”

Jurina’s chest warmed up. She could tell her girlfriend truly meant every word, and she wouldn’t hold it against her if they changed their plans. Nevertheless, a part of her refused to deprive her of a fun day only because she had always been a scary cat.

“I’ll do another attraction with Jurina while you both do that one,” Mayu chimed in the conversation. “We’ll meet after you finished.”

Jurina found herself speechless. “Wait, no, you don’t have to do that. I can really… I can really do it.”

“It’s a great idea,” Rena agreed. “No one said we all had to do the same attractions.”

Jurina opened her mouth to retort, but stopped when Rena gently pressed her lips to her cheek. “Enjoy yourself with Mayu. We’ll meet later for lunch.”

“What about Rustler Roundup Shootin’ Gallery?” Mayu suggested, when both Rena and Yuki turned on their heels. “It sounds fun, and it’s a 5 min walk from here.”

Jurina glanced back hesitantly in the direction of Yuki and Rena, as they disappeared in the dense crowd. “Mayu… You really didn’t want to go with them?”

“To Indiana Jones Temple of Peril? No, I don’t care that much about that one,” Mayu replied nonchalantly. “Besides, this shooting one seems much more fun. Wanna bet on who’s going to hit more targets?”

Jurina’s ears perked: she could recognize a challenge when she saw one. “What? Don’t be so sure of yourself. I progressed a lot lately at shooting games! Remember last time we went to the arcades in Shibuya?”

“Yes, I do. And you lost,” Mayu smirked. “But you’re right.” She patted Jurina’s arm. “It’s always good to have faith.”

Jurina groaned at her friend’s overflowing confidence. Their previous conversation falling at the back of her mind, she followed her, determined to wipe off that silly smug expression of hers.

It was past 1 p.m. when they checked the restaurants and settled down at Colonel Hathi’s Pizza Outpost. Sending a quick text to Rena to inform her of their choice of restaurant, Jurina went through the menu full of Italian specialties, making up her mind on the Neapolitan Rigatoni Pasta. While waiting for their respective partners to arrive, the scorching sun had led them to order cold drinks, Jurina appreciating the sensation of the fresh citronade easing her dry throat. Jurina observed Mayu who was enjoying her Coca Cola, trying hard not to be affected by her self-satisfied expression.

Alright, Mayu had managed to beat her, but there was nothing to gloat about: it was solely by a small margin!

“Stop it,” Jurina grumbled.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Mayu, sipping her soda through the straw, very innocently answered.

Jurina squinted at her, before noticing the last empty seats of the restaurant being taken by a family. Taking another good sip of her citronade, she watched the impressive crowd of visitors roaming through the park. If there’s something that this morning had taught her, it was that the French park was as popular as its Japanese version. Less than 10 minutes went by, until Rena and Yuki joined them at their table.

“So how was it?” Jurina asked. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did!” Rena stated, with barely contained enthusiasm. “It’s a shame we don’t have that attraction in Tokyo. The level of thrills is unique.”

By Yuki’s small grimace, it wasn’t hard to guess that someone else had been excessively adventurous, and was regretting taking up Rena’s challenge.

Rena’s anticipated meeting with Mickey and Minnie was a moment not to miss as the group ventured in Fantasyland. Considering the countless pictures Rena had taken with her Disney idols during the day, Jurina was positively certain her girlfriend would easily find a place to expose a couple of them at their apartment. The nearby souvenir shop seemed an obligatory stop, Jurina realizing Rena had something on her mind when she exited the shop and decidedly walked towards her.

From her shopping bag, Rena retrieved two pairs of Mickey Mouse ears, not hesitating in placing a pair on her head. Rena’s intentions were more than obvious when she stared at her maliciously, Rena positioning the second on hers with a barely dissimulated enthusiasm. Her girlfriend was ready to immortalize the glorious moment with a selfie, when they were interrupted by a French girl in her thirties with shoulder length brown hair. The latter kindly offered to take the picture, to which Rena accepted gratefully, pulling Jurina closer to take the pause in front of the camera.

The rest of the day went by in the speed of light, as they continued their thorough exploration of the park. They enjoyed popular attractions, Alice’s Curious Labyrinth, Dumbo the Flying Elephant and Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups, without forgetting of course Rena’s all-time favorite, the eternally enchanting It’s a small world. Those were attractions initially designed for little ones but that still managed to appeal to adults, awakening the child within each visitor.

At 5 p.m., they lined in the main street for the daily Disney Stars on Parade. If there’s one thing Jurina couldn’t deny as she observed the delight of the crowd following the colorful parade, it was that the entertainment park appealed to everyone. From kids and adults, to couples, families and friends, each fringe of the population was represented. Beside her, Rena’s eyes sparkled with undeniable happiness, and Jurina felt herself falling for her each day even more.

The following days were spent enjoying the cultural delights of the French capital. In group or by pairs, depending on their convergence of interests, they visited Orsay and the Louvre, a must-see in the cultural world. They took a stroll through the streets of emblematic districts, such as Pigalle, historical district of musical scene famous for Moulin Rouge, or the Latin Quarter, with its Pantheon, National Museum of Natural History and the garden of plants, without forgetting the worldwide renown university of the Sorbonne.

Every evening, when Jurina would go back to her hotel for a well needed rest after a tiring yet enriching day, one constant never changed. On top of their bed, she would discover a gift from the hotel. Each time different and carefully presented, Jurina’s astonishment never ceased when she opened the present, making a mental note to thank the staff for their consideration.

On this particular day, they had all reunited for a full day of shopping on the most popular avenue in the world: The Champs Elysées. After making a long stop at the Galeries Lafayette, and leaving with their arms full of plastic bags, their entered a few others clothing and shoe stores, Jurina not bothering to hide her amusement when Rena found two more pairs of Adidas that she visibly didn’t have in her collection.

The afternoon was well advanced when they entered an entirely different store, dedicated to the sale of media products. On four spacious floors, you could practically find everything, from books and videogames, to CDs and DVDs.

“There are so many…” Mayu stood on the spot, staring in awe at the endless line of shelves under the Mangas section. Rapidly, her feet moved forward and she grabbed the first manga within reach, turning the pages, replacing it back on the shelf and seizing a second with eagerness.

“All in French,” Jurina, checking a manga, specified, her observation not appearing to diminish Mayu’s enthusiasm for all that.

Jurina studied her in bewilderment, her best friend not paying the slightest care in what she was saying and going through each and every shelf conscientiously. Mayu didn’t understand French any more than her but her undivided passion for mangas had taken the upper hand, shutting down any common sense. Earlier too, when they had wandered around the game section, Mayu had monopolized the area for 30 min straight, nevermind if none of the games were compatible with Japanese consoles.

Jurina had a good feeling their exploration of this new section was going to take a while. As a new shelf, full of figurines on sale, had now piqued Mayu’s interest, Jurina briefly averted her gaze and swept over the floor, in search of their two others companions. Much in vain, as she had long ago lost sight of Rena and Yuki when the group decided to split up on the second floor of the store.

“I know I already said it but,” Jurina spoke up, reflecting upon the realization that more than half of their week holiday had passed in the blink of an eye. “I’m so happy we were able to go on holidays all four together. I had missed it.”

The statement prompted Mayu to lower the figurine in her hands. “Me too,” She replied sincerely. “And yes, the timing was perfect. In September, Yuki is touring to promote her new album, and I’ll be busy shooting a movie. And you and Rena are playing in a drama together. It was now or never.”

Jurina lit up at the latest mention. “You can’t imagine how long I dreamed of such an opportunity. When we both got offered a role in the same drama, there was no way I could refuse. I was afraid it might be in conflict with Rena’s busy schedule, but when she told me she didn’t have anything planned, I was so, so happy.”

“I can almost imagine the fireworks in your head,” Mayu joked, then added. “Isn’t it her third TV show set in Feudal Japan, though? Isn’t she tired of doing period dramas?”

“Yes, but this time, we’re shooting it together,” Jurina raised an eyebrow challengingly. “Are you suggesting that she could get bored with me?”

“Oh right. Stupid question,” Mayu chuckled, acknowledging her mistake. If there’s one quality Mayu could grant her best friend, it was that Jurina always succeeded in making everyday life the opposite of dull and monotonous.

On the other side of the floor, Yuki was venturing in the CD section. The number of shelves was imposing, all diligently divided in specific categories: French songs, R&B, pop, jazz, but also classical music, world music and soundtracks. The store also offered the possibility to listen to the recently released albums. Checking some artists, Yuki felt deterred by the realization that she didn’t know half of them.

“Either I have terrible taste in music, either we don’t listen to the same thing,” Yuki voiced out loud her concern. “The choice is impressive and diversified, but I don’t even know most of those artists. I don’t think I’ve even seen a single Japanese or Korean artist. Have you?!”

“No, I haven’t,” Rena, who was flipping over the CD of Mylene Farmer’s latest album, the French artist currently n°1 in the charts, concurred by her side. “I don’t think it has anything to do with having good or bad taste. It’s only that people in France don’t listen to the same music style as us.”

“Thank God,” Yuki breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I was getting paranoid and beginning to question my taste in music.”

Rena chuckled in response.

They resumed their exploration, listening now and then to a few CDs, Yuki catching Rena peeking more and more frequently at her yellow gold wedding band. These last couple of months, it wasn’t the first time she had caught her friend in the act. She hadn’t thought too much about it, passing it as simple admiration for the jewelry. Nonetheless, she couldn’t ignore that Rena’s interest in her ring had been more insistent since their arrival in the French capital.

Yuki pressed the button Stop of the CD she was listening, and removed the headphones. “Did I ever tell you how Mayu proposed?”

The question caught her female companion off guard, Rena replacing on the shelf the CD she was studying. “No. No, you didn’t.”

“One evening, Mayuyu invited me to the movies,” Yuki began reminiscently. “We had both been so swamped with work, that I believed it was only her being kind and thoughtful. Later on, we had a pleasant dinner at a romantic Italian restaurant, before Mayu asked if it was okay if we made a stop at the arcades. When she placed in my hands all the prices she had won, and let me finish first at every other game, I could sense something was off. When does Mayuyu let anyone beat her?”

Rena bit her lip to suppress a smile.

“I held my tongue, believing I was imagining things and she was probably in a bad day. After that, we went to buy an ice cream crepe,” Yuki continued, lowering her voice mysteriously. “We were walking back to the train station, enjoying our desserts, when she popped up the question out of nowhere! I was so shocked, that I almost dropped everything I was holding right in the middle of the street.”

Rena laughed heartily. “I see. But you still said yes.”

“I couldn’t say no to my Mayuyu,” Yuki sighed happily. “Besides, she made it up for her clumsy proposal by booking this wonderful weekend in Hawaii for our honeymoon. You should have seen our room. We had a lovely view on the sea, and the beach was only 5 min away by foot. And the jacuzzi. Don’t let me start on the jacuzzi.”

Rena grinned sweetly in response. “You two make a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you,” Yuki’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment. “It was a small, private wedding with only our families and closest friends, but it will always be the best day of my life. I’m so glad that both you and Jurina were able to come.”

“I couldn’t not be present for such an important event,” Rena shook her head softly. “Do you think you’ll ever make the news of your union public? Or you prefer that it remains private?”

“Mayuyu and I discussed it for a while before making a decision. Our families and friends know the truth; it’s all that matters to us. We’re happy as things are for now,” Yuki replied confidently.

Yuki took in Rena’s pensiveness, dying to broach a particular subject with her. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, before stopping herself. These past eight months, she and Rena had grown closer than ever. However, there was no denying that her friend had always been a rather private person. In all good conscience, she couldn’t take the risk of putting her ill-at-ease only to satisfy her overriding curiosity.

When the group met up outside the store, Jurina was unsettled to see her girlfriend missing by Yuki’s side. “Rena is not with you?”

“No, she said she needed to make a stop at another shop,” Yuki replied, wincing in unease at the view of the large boxes in Mayu’s plastic shopping bags. “Don’t tell me… you found more figurines?”

“Yes, and I already know where I’m going to put them,” Mayu answered proudly.

“Another shop? Did she say which one?” Jurina was genuinely puzzled.

“She didn’t,” Yuki conceded, then added in a gentle tone. “But she asked me to tell you not to worry, and she’ll meet you later on at the hotel.”

“That’s strange. It doesn’t sound like her to disappear like that without tell-” The sound of her phone beeping made Jurina pause.

Mayu flashed a grin. “Let me guess. She sent you a text.”

“She… did,” Jurina felt so awkward.

“All right!” Yuki clapped her hands together. “Who wants an ice cream? I don’t know about you, but the heat is killing me.”

Jurina put her phone away and nodded positively, her mouth already watering in delicious anticipation.

It was almost 6 p.m. when Jurina returned to the hotel with Mayu and Yuki, quite proud to not having let herself get carried away. Oh yes, she had an absolute fun time shopping, yet her amount of purchases could in no way match Yuki’s frenzy: her friend had literally cleaned out the luxury shops of the avenue.

After parting ways in the corridor with the other couple, Jurina slid her magnetic keycard and entered room 22, her gaze immediately landing on the familiar girl admiring the view from the balcony. Putting her shopping bags away, Jurina carefully removed her shoes and progressed inside. She briefly observed Rena’s purchases lined up next to her suitcase and she came up behind her, her arms locking around her waist. “Where did you disappear early on? I was worried.”

Rena placed her hand atop of hers, brushing the silver band on Jurina’s ring finger. “I’m sorry,” She brought Jurina’s hand to her lips, gently kissing her knuckles. “I remembered that I forgot to buy something.”

“What was it?” Jurina burned with curiosity. “Did you manage to find it? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gone with you.”

“So many questions,” Rena chuckled softly. Swinging around, she folded her arms around Jurina’s neck and kissed the tip of her nose. “Didn’t you have fun with Yuki and Mayu?”

“I did,” Jurina replied, then added jokingly. “Even though I had to prevent Mayu from buying the whole manga section, and Yuki went on a shopping spree.”

“That would have been interesting to watch,” Rena laughed.

Jurina brought their lips together. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Rena caressed her hair, then added teasingly. “But you do realize we were only separated for two hours, right?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I missed you,” Jurina pouted sulkily, extricating herself from the embrace. “So, what did you buy? Clothes? More shoes? Show me!”

Jurina didn’t have the opportunity to walk away, that Rena had pulled her back into her arms. “Nothing that important. Just some clothes I really liked.”

Jurina studied her closely, suspicious arising. For some reason, she couldn’t shake off the strange feeling that her girlfriend looked a bit too innocent and sweet. “Are you hiding something?”

“Why would I ever do that? And why does it seem that you are more interested in what I bought, than by your girlfriend who’s standing right in front of you?” Rena teased with a fake offended tone.

“No, I’m sure you’re hiding something from me,” Jurina narrowed her eyes at her. Leaning closer, she nibbled Rena’s earlobe, playfully biting on the pink tip. “And trust me when I say I will discover what it is.”

“Mmm,” Rena purred. Her fingers pressed in Jurina’s back, as she got possessively pinned against the nearest wall. “You seem so determined. I’m very curious to discover what you have in mind.”

Jurina’s heart pounded at her provocative gaze. The sensual stroking of Rena’s hands exploring the hollows of her back sent pleasant jolts through her, and she wondered just how cunning Rena could sometimes be. Her lips drifted to the side of Rena’s neck, grazing, teasing more than kissing it. When she managed to elicit a moan from her partner, Jurina felt a warm glow of satisfaction. Clasping her lips to Rena’s, she fiercely covered her mouth, well decided to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Two short days.

It was all that remained left of their magical stay in Paris.

As she and Rena exited the Basilica of the Sacré Coeur in Montmartre, Jurina tried her best to ignore her growing melancholy. If only the week hadn’t passed so incredibly fast. After such an amazing and authentic experience, it was going to take some time to re-adapt to her daily life in Japan. They hopped down the funicular, Jurina stealing discreet glances at the older girl walking by her side. Somehow, her girlfriend didn’t seem to share similar feelings. On the contrary, she appeared even more delighted than the first day, as if the approach of their departure wasn’t affecting her. When Rena casually slipped her hand inside hers, Jurina didn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers together, soon falling deep in her thoughts.

If there’s one thing she had picked up on, it was that Rena had been behaving unusually mysterious. It had begun a few weeks ago, when Rena had showed great insistence in taking care of their holidays planning. It had continued at the airport, when a few declarations from Rena had caught her off guard, the occurrences increasing once in Paris. It was of apparent no consequence, Rena remaining nothing but sweet and affectionate, that Jurina hadn’t thought too much about it.

The previous evening, when Jurina had asked to see what Rena had bought in her absence, her simple request was met with a refusal. Nevermind how persuasive she tried to be, Rena had dodged the question with a disconcerting naturalness. Jurina didn’t believe to have a paranoid nature. However, this strange secrecy and those subtle changes in her attitude were beginning to unsettle her.

Was she making a big deal out of nothing, or Rena had something on her mind that she refused to share?

They were taking a stroll in the lively Place du Tertre, where many painters, portraitists and caricaturists exposed their work, when Rena stopped by the stall of a street artist. “These are amazing.”

“They are,” Jurina said, impressed by the quality and variety of the art exposed. From landscapes and portraits, to watercolor and pencil sketches, the male artist in his thirties who was quietly working on a sketch in front of the bystanders, had more than one string to this bow. “His portraits are so realistic.”

“Why don’t you ask him to do yours?” Rena suggested, reading the sign indicating in English that the artist offered to draw portraits. “We have plenty of free time this afternoon. There’s no rush.”

After a short moment’s reflection, Jurina gladly acquiesced. Rena stepped forward and exchanged a few words with the male artist, the latter inviting Jurina to sit down on the stool. Jurina patiently took the pause while he was preparing his pencils, following from her peripheral vision Rena who was going through his paintings. Somehow, this arrangement didn’t quite feel right.

“I have a better idea,” Jurina flipped around, decidedly catching Rena’s hand. “I want a drawing of the both of us.”

“You do?” Rena looked pleasantly surprised. “Alright. Let me check if it’s something he agrees to do.”

Jurina waited in anticipation, understanding the request had been accepted when a second stool was placed next to hers.

A light wind was blowing across her face, agreeably freshening the air from the scorching heat of August. On a few occasions, she couldn’t resist playing with Rena’s fingers or whisper to her ear a few jokes, an act that didn’t fail to earn her to be gently chastised. According to the older girl, you weren’t supposed to move during the process. Jurina frowned and decided she didn’t care, planting a quick kiss on Rena’s cheek in retaliation. The mischievous gesture was received with another warning and a small giggle.

When the artist put his pencil down at last, Jurina was eager to discover the result. The least she could say, it was that it went far beyond her expectations. In a short amount of time, he had drawn their facial features with a striking accuracy. But what impressed her the most, was the way he had transcribed their body language. He had made the decision to portray them face to face, their mutual fondness evident to anyone who could have taken a peek at the drawing. Jurina found herself deeply moved and thanked him wholeheartedly, determined to find a place at home to hang this piece of art.

“Wait for me here,” Rena paused in the hotel hallway, and gave Jurina’s shoulder a brief, light squeeze. “I need to go to the reception.”

“Alright.” Jurina gathered at her feet their shopping bags full of French delicacies from the bakeries of Montmartre, and stole a peek at her watch.

When she noted that it was 6 p.m., she let out a short, sad sigh. The day had flown by so fast, that she wished she had the ability to freeze time. Much as she tried her best to forget about it, she got reminded of the imminence of their departure on far too many occasions. No, she wasn’t ready to go back. If only she could extend their stay: visit more monuments, test more French bakeries, and wander around the cobblestone streets of Paris a little longer with her friends and her precious partner.

Glancing back in Rena’s direction, she suddenly caught sight of Mayu’s familiar silhouette entering the hotel. This morning, both couples had split up, having organized their program for the day differently. Jurina waved at her, impatient to learn what their friends had been up to, only to be startled by the large colorful bouquet of flowers Mayu was holding. “What are those for?”

“It’s for Yuki. Today is our 10-year anniversary,” Mayu said.

Jurina was rendered almost speechless by the news. “10 years? I never realized you had been together for so long...”

“We have, and that’s why tonight we’re having a special dinner to celebrate it,” Mayu explained. “I wanted to surprise her with these flowers.”

Jurina found herself touched, and also slightly entertained by her best friend’s love gesture. “My best friend is a romantic after all.”

“Of course I am,” Mayu scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Are you waiting for something?”

“Rena,” Jurina replied, gesturing to the older girl standing by the reception. “You know, I will miss this place.” She swept around the majestic and luxurious marble decoration of the hotel hallway. “The direct view on the Eiffel Tower. The romantic decoration of the room. The gifts every day. If I ever have the chance to come back to Paris, I will definitely stay here.”

“What are you talking about?” Mayu asked, puzzled. “The room is cozy and spacious, but it wouldn’t say it was specifically romantic? And aside from a welcoming letter, we didn’t get any gifts.”

It took Jurina several seconds to shake off the resulting stupefaction. “You didn’t have rose petals spread all over the bed at your arrival?”

Her question was received with a negative nod.

“No gifts?” Jurina insisted. “No cakes? No chocolates? No offered dinners in big restaurants? No free wine tasting? No private visits? Nothing?”

“Eh no,” Mayu replied again. “Trust me, I would have remembered.”

Jurina was beyond confused. “I don’t understand…”

Mayu stared back at her skeptically. “Are you sure you didn’t book a special room or something?”

“I didn’t book it, Rena did,” Jurina clarified. “And she told me that she didn’t-” she stopped mid-way, realization hitting her.

Mayu grinned, and clapped her amiably on the shoulder. “It seems your girlfriend hasn’t been entirely honest with you. Anyway, I have to go. Yuki is waiting for me. Dinner is at 7, and I don’t want to be late!”

Jurina nodded, unable to speak when her best friend drew away, her eyes soon flying up in shock to Rena at the unforeseen revelation.

Rena was describing how lovely their day had been in Montmartre, but Jurina was anything but attentive. All the way leading to their hotel room, she felt like a naive fool. Rena had assured her that she hadn’t booked a special room, and she had fell for it. The beautiful romantic decoration, the everyday gifts: now everything made sense. It wasn’t due at all to the hotel’s signature as she initially believed.

“Is everything alright?” The sound of Rena’s voice brought her back to reality. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve been saying,” Rena remarked worriedly, closing the hotel door behind them. “What’s on your mind?”

Jurina flashed a big smile before she answered. “I know everything. The room. The rose petals. The everyday gifts. You’re responsible for all those things.”

Rena stood there briefly, stunned. “How do you… How do you know?”

“I had an interesting talk with Mayu,” Jurina went on, proud to have caught her off guard. “Their room is nothing like ours. They didn’t get all those gifts from the hotel staff. No rose petals, no chocolates, no invitations, nothing. So, there’s no point of hiding the truth from me anymore.”

“I guess you were bound to know about it,” Rena carefully processed her words, then added cheekily. “Well done, you discovered my secret.”

“Why?” Jurina asked, with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. “Why did you do all this for me?”

“I wanted our vacations to be special,” Rena said with unconcealed affection. She placed a hand upon Jurina’s cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb. “To make sure our stay in Paris remained imprinted in our minds and in our hearts forever.”

“But it’s already special,” Jurina whispered, warming from inside. She gathered her into her arms and held her close. “I’m here, with you, in Paris. What more could I ask for?”

“Yukirin, are you here?” Mayu called, dissimulating the flower bouquet behind her as she entered their hotel room.

“In here!” Yuki shouted inside of the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in 5 min!”

“Take your time,” Mayu replied, trying not to sound too giddy. She examined once more her bouquet of flowers, quite pleased with her selection. Controlling her excitement, she had to stop herself from pacing the room. She could already predict Yuki’s shock when she would discover her present.

A couple of minutes later, the bathroom door flew open. “I know, I’m so sorry I’m late. For some weird reason, the keycard refused to open the door when I arrived, then it’s the hairdryer that wouldn’t work. And finally, when I put my dress on, the zipper refused to close! I was about to lose my mind! Can you imagine? How can someone be so unlucky on their wedding anniversary?!”

“It’s only 6:30 p.m.,” Mayu reassured her.

“It is?!” Yuki asked in disbelief, checking the time. “My God, you’re right. I thought it was much later than that,” she heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Are you…” she leaned to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Mayu’s back. “Are you hiding something?”

“Those are for you,” Mayu announced proudly, bringing the flowers out of their hideout. “Happy anniversary.”

Yuki stared at her in wonder.

“For me?” Yuki took a step nearer, contemplating them. “They are… so beautiful.” Her eyes glowed with happiness. “Thank you, my Mayuyu.” She brought their lips together in a kiss. “You always manage to surprise me in the most unexpected way. Do you know how much I love you?”

“I love you too,” Mayu’s face brightened.

Yuki cupped her chin, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Let me finish applying makeup, and we can leave, alright?”

“Alright,” Mayu nodded, smiling. As Yuki reentered the bathroom, she studied her wife in appreciation, then casually leaned against the doorframe. “By the way, you won’t imagine what I discovered. It looks like Rena booked a special romantic room for their stay, and planned gifts and surprises for Jurina every day.”

“She did?” Yuki faced her back in astonishment. “That’s so sweet of her.”

“And you know what’s the funniest thing?” Mayu added wryly. “Jurina didn’t even realize she was behind it all this time.”

“Really?!” Yuki laughed merrily. “You know, I’m beginning to suspect this trip will hold many more surprises.”

“More surprises? What do you mean?” Mayu asked, bewildered.

Yuki gave a conspirational smile. “I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

“You look…” Jurina paused for a breath, her mouth curving with infinite fondness. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

A telltale blush crept into Rena’s cheeks, giving away her embarrassment. “Will you please stop complimenting me tonight? You haven’t stopped ever since we left the hotel.”

“I can’t help it. This red dress looks so beautiful on you. Everything tonight is just…” she tore her eyes away from her attractive partner, to once more enjoy the view outside the window. “Perfect.”

Yes, this Friday evening was a dream come true. After learning about Rena’s thoughtful tokens of affection, Jurina quickly discovered it was far from the only surprise her girlfriend had been planning for their trip in Paris. Following that, Rena had informed her that they would be having dinner in a new lovely place. Jurina did try to find out more, but Rena had refused to divulge the tiniest bit of information, using her most appealing charms to convince her to wait and be a little more patient.

Jurina could do nothing else but surrender and, choosing her nicest blue evening dress, had followed her without questioning, not believing her eyes when the taxi had stopped them in front of an enchanting Parisian boat on the Seine. The small tables decorated by candle lights. The spectacular view on the Eiffel Tower. The smooth music playing in the air. The waiters attentive to their every need. Every single detail contributed to create the perfect romantic mood.

It was a chic restaurant, but not too uptight, enabling them to remain laidback and casual. The male waiter had barely removed the main dish that the Eiffel Tower began to shine, marking its characteristic nightly illuminations. The sight was so mesmerizing that Jurina was unable to look away, the other customers of the restaurant having also momentarily stopped eating to appreciate the view.

A few evenings ago, she and Rena had been granted with such a breathtaking sight when they had gone on a late stroll to admire the illuminated city by night. Nevertheless, Jurina found herself as equally amazed, never getting tired of admiring the Iron Lady in all its glory and magnificence.

“We’re visiting the Eiffel Tower tomorrow, right?” Jurina asked, recalling how adamant her girlfriend had been on keeping that specific visit for their final day in the French capital.

When she received no immediate reply, she glanced back in her direction, only to distinguish a hint of nervousness in Rena’s brown orbs.

“Is everything alright?” Jurina extended her arm across the table, only to feel Rena’s fingers lightly trembling inside her hand. As she tried to take a grasp of the situation, she was forced to admit that she had noted a subtle shift in her girlfriend’s attitude during the course of dinner. From engaging and smiling, Rena had turned a little quieter and more tense as the evening had progressed.

“Yes, of course.”

The response did nothing to reassure her, not fooled by her girlfriend’s apparent calm. Jurina opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t have the opportunity to say a word that they were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter. “Chocolate-passion sphere, bursts of brownies and crunchy streusel,” he announced, meticulously placing both their desserts in front of each of them.

“Thank you,” Jurina politely replied.

The male waiter bowed courteously and left, Rena’s previous behavior momentarily falling at the back of her head as Jurina contemplated the chocolate dessert that had been served. A few months ago, she had followed the elaboration of that specific dessert on a cooking show, but never had she had the possibility to taste it. On the right side of the plate, was disposed a white jar filled with hot chocolate. Jurina seized it, dexterously pouring the hot liquid over the top of the sphere. At the contact, the sphere slowly melted, reveling a small square red box hidden inside.

Jurina stared, complete surprise on her face.

She glanced over the other side of the table, only to note that Rena’s dessert remained untouched. When their eyes locked, Rena had a knowing smile mixed with a little bit of apprehension. “Don’t tell me… Don’t tell me you bought me another gift. Really, this is too much. I didn’t even buy you anything.”

“This one is special.”

Jurina felt torn between happiness at the generous displays of affection, and a sense of unease that she didn’t deserve so much. “The romantic hotel room, the everyday gifts, the wonderful restaurants. I’m so touched you did all this for me. But Rena, it wasn’t necessary. Being with you, here in Paris, already makes me the happiest person alive. You do know that, right?”

“Please… Please open it. I promise everything will make sense once you do.”

Jurina didn’t know what to make of her cryptic words. She lowered her gaze to the box, literately feeling the anticipation emanating from the other side of the table as she popped it open. When its content appeared to her, Jurina’s eyes opened wide in shocked disbelief. Inside the red velvet box was a white gold sapphire and diamond ring, along with a message written in gold letters.

Will you marry me?

Jurina’s heart stopped. How long did she stare at the inscription and at the ring, she didn’t know. It was only the feeling of Rena’s fingers gently touching hers that managed to snap her out of her daze. Progressively, she brought her attention back to her, only to see Rena gazing at her with a tender, slightly nervous look.

“Jurina Matsui, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Jurina was rendered utterly and completely speechless. If Rena wasn’t currently holding her hand, she would be convinced to be imagining the whole scene. Despite understanding the words loud and clear, Jurina had a hard time processing what just happened. Was Rena really proposing to her? “No…”

“No? No… to what?”

Rena’s face displayed apprehension.

“No, I mean,” Jurina quickly came back on her words when she realized what she had uttered without thinking. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Rena was confused.

“I thought…” Jurina paused and maneuvered her thoughts, trying to ignore her heart now beating uncontrollably against her ribs. “I thought you didn’t want to get married. I remember you saying it so many times. You seemed so sure of yourself. So why…”

There was a moment of silence.

“It’s true, I did say it,” Rena said lucidly. “But if there’s one thing that life taught me, it’s that it’s senseless to try so hard to not stray away from a path we strongly believe to be the only correct one.”

Rena thought for a moment, before continuing.

“For so long, I only wanted to focus on my career. Nothing else mattered than to fulfill my biggest dreams and to have a successful professional life. I never planned to share my life with anyone, even less to fall in love. But it happened, with you. When I the least expected it, you awoke feelings within me that I didn’t know existed. For the first time, I realized I didn’t want to do all those things only for myself. I wanted to share them with someone, and that person is you.”

Rena tightened her hold around Jurina’s hand.

“I don’t want us to ever be separated again. When we met each other in last December, and you granted me your unconditional forgiveness, I got back the other half of my heart. The following months we spent together were so blissful. When I asked you to move in together and you said yes, I couldn’t be any happier. But soon enough, I couldn’t shake off the sensation that something was missing to make my life more complete. I was frustrated at myself for failing to put a word on what I was feeling. I could tell you were happy too, so I didn’t understand why a part of me remained unfulfilled. The day Mayu and Yuki announced their engagement, a switch flipped inside me. For the first time, I could see with such vivid clarity.”

Rena’s eyes shone with determination.

“When I witnessed them so delightfully happy at their wedding, surrounded by their loved ones, I knew I wanted to experience such a significant moment with you. My feelings for you have never changed, and they will always remain intact. I want to show you how entirely committed I am to you, and for all the years to come.”

There was a short pause as they looked intently at each other.

“Is it what you went to buy on the Champs Elysées?” Jurina whispered in breathless amazement, her voice thick with emotion. “What you didn’t want me to see?”

“It is,” Rena confessed. “A few weeks ago, I called the shop from Tokyo to choose the design, and had it personally handmade. The difficult part was to retrieve it without you discovering about it.”

Jurina could hear nothing else but the wild thumping of her heart, holding back the tears threatening to come to her eyes. It was too easy to get lost in the way Rena looked at her, with a love and dedication that almost flipped her heart over. “I love you,” Jurina leaned forward across the table, quickly pressing her lips against hers. “I love you, Rena. I love you so much.”

They shared a long, slow, tender kiss.

“I love you too,” Rena whispered, affectionately caressing her cheek. “But…” There was a momentary hesitation before she added. “You haven’t answered. Are you ready to take this next step in our relationship? Will you marry me?”

“There’s no one I love more than you,” Jurina felt as if her heart would burst with joy. “You are not just my soulmate; you are the love of my life. I can’t imagine my life without you. Yes, I will. I will marry you.”

Elation suffused Rena’s whole being.

This time, Rena was the one to smash their lips together, kissing her passionately. In that précised instant, it was as if the world had evaporated around them, none of them caring about the curious, amused looks directed at her. All that mattered was the two of them, their hearts beating in unison with the promise of an eternal future together.

#wmatsui #matsui jurina #matsui rena #wmatsui fanfic #Watanabe Mayu #Kashiwagi Yuki #SKE48 #AKB48 #destiny #Heartbeat trilogy #chapter 40 part 2 #penultimate chapter

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daoimean · 5 years

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Pink in the Night | Chapter III: Winter Solstice: Part II

Chapter II | Ao3 Link

Summary:

Fellas, is it gay to be madly in love with your gal pal? As war rages and internal demons fester, Glimmer struggles to come to terms with her feelings.

Pairings: Glimmadora (Glimmer/Adora)

Warnings: Alcohol, discussions of grief

Word Count: 4,108

When the day arrives, Glimmer wakes up with a pounding headache. She decides that’s excuse enough to stay where she is for a while, blankets drawn over her head, only responding in half-conscious grumbles when someone (she thinks it's Casta) comes in to check on her. It's only once the morning moon is high in the sky and guilt prevails over exhaustion that she manages to drag herself out from her cushiony cocoon so she can get this all over with.

Breakfast is sitting, stone cold, by the window seat (confirming it was probably Casta who came in earlier). She eats it slowly, her eyes transfixed on the view outside, over what's soon to be her queendom. It hasn't snowed in a few days, and most of the snow that remains on the ground has been trodden to brownish mush, a bleak landscape overcast by a bleak grey sky.

Tonight, she will deliver the Solstice Sermon in place of her mom. Tonight, she will go through her first Solstice without her mom, and her last Solstice as a Princess.

She leans her forehead against the window, hoping the cold from outside will somehow seep through the double glazing and provide some semblance of relief from the painful drumming in her head.

Her ceremonial robes hang over one of her chairs, the notes for her Sermon laying in a haphazard pile-type thing across her desk. She'll need to rehearse it some more at some point today, until she can at least picture that she's in front of an audience of her future subjects and political allies without her voice quivering. She's not sure how anyone expects her to be ready for any of this when she can barely bring herself to get ready for the day, even though all she does is wash up and throw on her usual clothes (probably best to save the robes for tonight). Her eyes fall on her gift for Adora just as she's on her way out, and she takes a moment to shove it into one of her desk drawers so she doesn't have to look at it again until tomorrow. Out of sight, out of mind.

By this point it feels like her head is splitting, so the first place she goes is to the medical office to look for painkillers. What she doesn't expect to find is Mermista in there already, rifling through the cupboards for the exact same thing.

Oh, yeah. The others are still here.

"Word of advice, Glimmer," Mermista says instead of a greeting, holding her head with a visible grimace, "do not try to drink Seahawk under the table, it's really not going to happen."

"Wasn't planning to, but good to know," says Glimmer, flopping back on what's usually the medic's chair (there ideally should be someone in here, but she doesn't care enough to sort that right now), "have you found anything?"

Mermista groans. "I was kind of hoping you'd know where they are. Don't you live here?"

"Well, yeah, but I've never really needed medicine." Glimmer shrugs. "Immortal mom and all."

"Oh." Mermista's shoulders slump. "Yeah. Sorry." As if she has to apologise if Glimmer's mom is so much as mentioned. She finally finds some painkillers, swallowing a couple down with some water before handing them across to Glimmer. "So, what, were you there last night? I literally can't remember, holy ow ."

"I wasn't, but I'm kind of starting to wish I was." She shakes her head, the corners of her lips actually twitching up in amusement at the thought of a very drunk Mermista. "I might just be stressed."

"About the speech?"

"The speech. The Horde. General queen stuff." She pauses to take the painkillers. Realises she's too much of a wuss to swallow them whole. Snaps them in half and tries again. "Adora."

"You're still hung up on the Adora thing?" Mermista slides the glass of water back to herself once Glimmer puts it down. She occupies herself with idly swirling her finger above the glass, creating a mini vortex in the water. Like she's totally not actually invested in this, obviously . "Have you considered, like, talking to her?"

Glimmer sighs. Even if Mermista is marginally less condescending than Shadow Weaver, she really doesn't have the time or energy to deal with advice from people who just don't get it. "What I said, Mermista? About losing her? That's exactly why I can't talk to her."

"Urgh, Glimmer ." Mermista groans again, throwing her head back dramatically (which can't have helped her headache). "Look, I know we don't talk much or whatever, and that this is, like, none of my business. But I've seen what you and Adora have, and honestly, I'm pretty sure you two are gonna survive anything at this point."

"I'm not scared about her dying , Mermista." Well, now I am.

"Yeah, duh . You're scared of losing what you have now. Like if you confess your massive crush and she doesn't feel the same way, things are gonna get weird between you."

"Hey, I don't have a—" Ugh, who is she even kidding at this point? "Yeah. I guess."

"Or say she does feel the same way, and you take the next step, but things don't work out, and then things get weird."

"...Yeah." Probably the less likely of the two.

" Or maybe the feelings themselves scare you. Things were comfortable and familiar, but now your feelings turning into something new, and different, and weird. You've never actually done this before, have you, Glimmer?"

"Um. No."

"Okay. So. This…" Mermista gestures vaguely. " Thing that you guys have—?"

"Friendship?" Glimmer asks, raising a brow.

"It's more than that. It's like...this connection , you just vibe with each other, like you've known each other your whole lives. I sensed it like, the day I met you two, and you know me, I'm not one for reading energies or auras or whatever. You don't come by something like that easily, Glimmer, and it's not lost easily either. Like, urgh , I wish I had that with Seahawk. Why am I even dating that guy?"

Glimmer often wonders the same thing, but it's probably rude to do so aloud, and it's far from the first thing on her mind. How is Mermista , of all people, managing to conceptualize this better than Glimmer herself ever could? "Yeah, I guess you're right," is what she says instead.

"I know I'm right. But here's the thing: you notice what's happening between you and Adora now?"

"What?"

"Things. are getting. weird ."

"Yeah. They are."

"Because you're pushing her away."

"I'm n— it's not just that," Glimmer interjects defensively, her heart rate rising, "it's...complicated, okay?"

"Talk out the other stuff too, then." Mermista flashes her a look. "Or this is only going to get worse."

"But what if—"

" Urgh , don't even start with that. When have you ever let 'what if' stop you before?"

Wow, Mermista almost sounds...passionate. She's even looking at Glimmer, making actual eye contact. If she's trying to convince her, it's definitely working. The bleak cloudcover are lifting, and things suddenly look a little better illuminated in the light. Even her headache isn't as bad now, but maybe that's just the painkillers kicking in.

"Anyway, the queen stuff," Mermista continues, bringing her attention back to the water, "I...can't imagine what you're going through right now with like, your mom and stuff. There's no way you could've prepared for any of this, you didn't ask for any of this. Like, I was basically in political training as soon as I was forming coherent thoughts, I thought I wanted to 'cause I didn't have another choice, and then my eighteenth birthday rolled around and I still didn't feel ready. To be honest, I still don't feel like I know what I'm doing a lot of the time. Like, no one knows what’s going on or what’s gonna happen, with like, the Horde and the war and stuff. It... really sucks, Glimmer, no one's gonna pretend it doesn't, but no one expects you to go through this alone either. We've all got your back. Even me. Just, you know, as long as you don't expect too much."

"Wow. Um." Glimmer's so touched and dumbfounded that for a moment, that's all she can say. Mermista glances her way expectantly, quirking a brow, and that's when she manages to speak again. "Mermista, can I...hug you?"

Mermista rolls her eyes, which is pretty much what Glimmer expects, but it's light-heartedly, accompanied with a smile, an actual smile — and instead of telling her don't push it or something Mermista-esque like that she actually holds out her arms, beckoning Glimmer towards her. "You," she says into Glimmer's shoulder, as she almost throws herself into Mermista's arms before she can change her mind, "are so lucky I'm still a little drunk."

She gives her a reassuring little squeeze then pulls back, patting Glimmer's arm. "Now go talk to Adora, you moron."

---

There's a particular photo of Glimmer and her mom that Bow would lose it over every time he saw it. The photographer for whatever media outlet it was happened to arrive right in the middle of one of their shouting matches, forcing mother and daughter to put a lid on the issue and play happy families while they were both still seething to the brim. Her mom is successful in this, at least outwardly, managing to resume her flawlessly serene demure— while Glimmer's smile is so cheesy, so strained, so obviously fake that it looks like someone's pulling her cheeks back.

This whole day feels like that photo, only now, nobody's laughing.

Glimmer has mostly managed to avoid the media in the past couple months, and before then it was always her mom who dealt with them. But this year's Winter Solstice is considered an even bigger affair on account of everything that's happened since the last, and it's not only the media she has to play her part in front of as she finds herself at the forefront of the remaining preparations. Learning but competent, somber but emotionally sound— she can only hope she teeters the line more convincingly than she'd smiled in that damn photo, since her mind seems to be floating around somewhere else entirely.

It occurs to her, as she steals some time alone to practice the Sermon, that her mom must have gone through something similar after her dad… Then again, at least she was already an established queen. At least people believed in her. She presumably believed in herself.

She doesn't get a chance to talk to Adora. The hours go by faster than she can keep track of them, each motion she acts out before her audience chipping away at the surge of confident optimism she gained from the conversation with Mermista. Come nightfall, as she stands before her bedroom mirror, attempting to go through her notes one last time as Casta helps with the finishing touches of her robes (it's definitely regal attire when it takes an extra person to put it on), she feels like each and every defensive layer has been peeled away by scrutinizing eyes, mounting anxiety, what if what if what if. Everything she realises she'd blocked off in order to function through the day has caught up with her and paralysed her right here in the moment, too in the moment, and she's pretty sure she's never felt more lost.

She really wishes her mom was here. Telling her what to do.

"Your hair's getting quite long, dear." Casta's voice draws her attention to her own reflection, where Casta stands behind her, holding out a strand to show its length. Her hair has gotten a little longer, long enough that it's starting to weigh itself down rather than sticking up and out, a loose wavy bob stopping inches above her shoulders.

If it was longer, a lot longer, she would almost look like…

"Shall I tie it back?" Casta asks her, already holding up another strand, trying to figure out what to do with hair that's probably long enough to tie back but not enough to do very much with.

"Just leave it like this." She runs her hands through her hair as Casta lets it fall, combing it behind her ears. "I should probably get it cut soon anyway."

It's the first time, she's pretty sure, she's worn a dress that reaches the floor. Definitely the first time she's dressed nearly this lavishly. She feels smaller, somehow. More vulnerable.

She thinks about the Princess Prom. Then she thinks about Adora.

She thinks about when everything was so much simpler.

Casta places the headpiece over Glimmer's hair, the silver glinting in the light, matching the colour shift of the gossamer fabric of her outer robe, and she wonders if she'll ever get any of that back.

"Oh, Glimmer, you look so regal ," Casta remarks delightedly, clasping her hands; her smile falters when she sees Glimmer's expression in the mirror. "Is something the matter, dear?"

It's Casta who always looks regal, almost effortlessly so. That elegant confidence just seems to come naturally to her, in her posture, in her demeanor; the authority just radiates from her.

Casta is also a person, though. That’s how Glimmer knows her. She's pretty, she's nice, she cooks well. But she rarely left Mystacor before she joined the Alliance, where she lives among people who look up to her, a leader first and foremost.

Does it ever get lonely up there?

"Have you ever been in love, Casta?"

Glimmer's question is so out of nowhere it causes her aunt to draw back, her expression falling further as her composure momentarily crumbles; it's hard to tell what emotions Glimmer's elicited— what memories she's dug up, if any.

"You don't have to tell me," she adds quickly, suddenly feeling guilty, "sorry."

"There was someone," says Casta, now taking Glimmer by surprise, "but it was a very long time ago."

"What happened?" Glimmer wills herself to ask.

"We made all these plans together. We were going to go to Salineas. I always wanted to see the ocean." Casta turns from the mirror, eyes downcast, but Glimmer can still see it in her profile: that far-off, wistful melancholy that clouds her features the rare times she lets herself reminisce about the past. "But this was around the time Micah left Mystacor to be with your mother, and I was appointed Head Sorceress in his place. My future was no longer about me, much less us. I was so busy trying fill my brother's shoes that we...well, we drifted. She ended up leaving Mystacor herself not long after."

Glimmer's heart sinks. She swallows. "Do you miss her?"

"I still think about her often, but I know I made the right choice. I had to prioritise." Casta's eyes widen and she suddenly whirls back to the mirror, like she just realised the implications of her story. "—But of course it's not the same for everyone. Just look at…"

"My parents?" She picks up her dad's staff where it's leaning against her vanity, holding it before herself as she straightens her posture, squaring her shoulders. Practicing her Queenly Pose. "I mean, I would if I could."

---

For some reason, delivering the Sermon without any hiccups, avoiding every disastrous scenario she'd conjured in her mind from tripping on stage to Castle Bright Moon going up in flames, isn't as much of a relief as Glimmer had hoped; the unanimous applause that follows just makes her want to get off stage even faster than her heart is racing.

Her main responsibility of the night is over now, at least. Now all she really has to do is mingle.

This year's turnout is impressive, to say the least. Familiar faces scattered among a sea of people Glimmer doesn't know, although of course they all know her. She ducks behind a pillar, breathing a sigh of relief as she hears Bow's voice calling out to her over the music and bustling chatter. Her eyes follow his voice to the refreshment table, where he waves her over. She avoids any unwelcome conversations on the way there by teleporting next to him; when she ends up behind him, her inner child makes an unexpected reemergence, as she decides to scare the life out of him by grabbing his shoulders and greeting him with a little "boo."

"Glim— ACK! Glimmer! " he whips round, feigning anger. But then his face breaks into a beaming smile as he scoops her up in a hug that pulls her right off her feet. "He-ey! You did amazing up there!"

Glimmer laughs in surprise— the first time she's laughed in any capacity in a while , she realises— and shakes her head bashfully. "I tried. Do you know where the others are?"

"And you succeeded ," Bow affirms. He lets her down, craning his neck as he scans the crowd. He has the advantage of height that Glimmer lacks, but this doesn't seem to give him much more luck. "Uh...around? I kinda lost track— oh, there's where my dads went." He raises his arm to wave, and Lance, the only one who sees, enthusiastically waves back, then nudges George who does the same. When they see Glimmer they both give a thumbs up, Lance mouthing you did great.

"It's great you can invite your family to these things now," says Glimmer, giving an awkward grin of thanks before averting her eyes, trying to ignore the pang of envy in her gut.

"Yeah, I always wanted to see how they'd react to a Bright Moon Solstice— oh, now we're talking!" He perks up as a server comes round with a plate of spring rolls, gladly accepting one. Glimmer manages to restrict herself to two rather than inhaling the entire stack. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine, just crazy hungry. Don't tell Casta but I kind of missed dinner." She eats them both in one go, then turns her attention to the refreshment table. "It's sooort of a Bright Moon-Mystacor Solstice thanks to her hand in it. I'm pretty sure those spring rolls are a Mystacorian recipe, and— ooh, they've got mooncakes!"

Okay, so maybe things aren't so bad. Though as she ravenously shoves an entire cake into her mouth, a voice behind her almost makes her choke.

"Glimmer?"

"Oh, hey Adora," says Bow, through his own mouthful of mooncake, before Glimmer can even think about responding, "oh man, you have got to try these."

"Hi, Bow." Adora picks up one of the mooncakes, taking a bite, but her eyes are on Glimmer— who is, internally, disintegrating.

Adora.

Is wearing.

A suit .

Why, oh moons above, does Adora have to be wearing a suit?

Glimmer isn't sure she could formulate any words even if her cheeks weren't stuffed like a hamster. She attempts to smile, and Adora smiles back, but it's thin-lipped, an indiscernible tension tugging at the edges that makes Glimmer's chest tighten. Bow's pupils frantically dart between the two, like he's watching a tennis match.

"Can I talk to you?" Adora asks her. She glances to Bow, who quickly looks the other way like that's supposed to convince her he's not listening. "Uh, somewhere quieter?"

"Wha—" Glimmer manages to force down some of the mooncake. "What? Now?"

"Preferably."

"Um." She swallows down the rest, then swallows again. "Sure."

Adora holds out her hand. Glimmer takes it and allows herself to be led through the throngs of partygoers, her heart pounding so hard she swears Adora must be able to hear it over the music and chatter; the last she sees from Bow as she looks back is a raised eyebrow, and a weirdly knowing smirk she doesn't like the looks of.

She swears she used to be able to read Adora really well, but now, watching her back as she keeps her eyes trained ahead, she can’t make out a thing. Is Adora mad at her? She supposes she'd understand if she was, with how avoidant she's been lately, but she doesn't seem mad. There's some other tense energy radiating through to her; her hand feels just as clammy as her own is.

Before Glimmer has time to discern what that might be, they emerge from the crowd to a (suspiciously) empty patch of floor. Adora lets go of Glimmer's hand, by which point it's so sweaty she'd probably wipe it on herself if not for the risk of looking rude.

It's still loud. She's overwhelmed, and weirdly claustrophobic for some reason, like there's a million eyes on her, closing in on her, suffocating her. Her heart is pounding in her ears, so loud she can barely hear, barely think —

"Glimmer?" Adora's voice pulls her back to the surface. "Are you—?"

"Yeah, I'm good, I'm good, I'm just... really tired." Glimmer exhales. "Um, is something— is something up?"

"No— uh, yeah, kind of? It's not bad, i-it's just, um..." Adora looks away, rubbing her arm. "I uh. I liked your speech."

Well, that's obviously not it. "Thanks. I did my best."

"I thought that part, about the, uh, the days only getting longer after this— I, ha, to be honest, I didn't actually understand why the longest day of the year was a cause for celebration, I thought you guys just really liked parties, but after hearing it put that way, I...understand more. It was...really nice."

“Well, we also really like parties,” says Glimmer, with a wry smile in thanks. She’d agonised over that part when she was writing the Sermon. It felt necessary, but also just kind of dumb and corny. But she knows how Adora is, she tends to ramble nonsense and meander round the subject when she's super nervous. It's cute, most of the time, but right now Glimmer's that in that horrible inbetween of burned out and panicked and she just needs Adora to spit it out already so she can go to bed. "What's going on, Adora?"

Adora freezes like a deer in the headlights, her shoulders tensing. Then she exhales, slowly, closing her eyes then opening them again. Glimmer waits with baited breath, the possibilities running through her mind at a million a minute.

"Glimmer, I—"

Whatever she's about to say is interrupted by a resounding whoop from Mermista (evidently already plastered), which prompts most of the people in her immediate vicinity— who unfortunately happen to include the other Princesses— to turn their attention to where she's pointing, and erupt in cheers and various yells of encouragement.

What— oh. Oh no.

"Glimmer?"

There's a chandelier here, isn't there?

"What's going on?" Adora seems to sink down, shrinking under the weight of everyone’s eyes. "Why is everyone staring at us?"

What better place to hang some…

No. They didn’t. Did they?

Bracing herself, she looks up.

And sighs.

"Oh for the love of…"

"What?" Adora blinks. "What is it?"

Glimmer shakes her head briskly, waving her hand. "Don’t worry about it, it's— nothing, just some...dumb tradition."

"What tradition?"

She points up, and Adora's eyes follow to the chandelier above— or namely, what's hanging off it. "You see that?"

"The leaves?"

"That's mistletoe."

"Right."

"We're under the mistletoe."

"Yes."

"So we're supposed to...I mean, it's not compulsory or anything, but we're supposed to, um…"

" Kiss, you scallops!" Mermista hollers, to an enthusiastic flurry of agreement. Moons above, there’s even more people watching them now.

"Yeah, um…" Glimmer lets her gaze drop to the floor, feeling the heat rise to her ears. "That."

"That, uh…" Adora forces an awkward laugh. "Wow, that is really dumb."

That hurts something deep in Glimmer's chest, but she tries to push it aside. They can't, anyway, she can't—

"Like I said, it's not…you don't have to..."

Two of Adora's fingers go under Glimmer's chin, tilting her head up; there's nowhere to look— nowhere she can look— but Adora's eyes.

And she realises, just because she shouldn't —

She can. She has to. She needs to.

It's hard to tell who makes the first move after that, but Adora's lips are just as she's always imagined them.

It's surreal.

She can hardly process it.

She wants more.

She closes her eyes, wanting to stand on her tiptoes, wrap her arms around Adora’s neck, deepen the kiss until reality melts around them. No past, no future, no people or obligations— just her and Adora, together in this moment that they can be together. Everything’s simple, everything's okay, everything’s perfect .

But the moment is over before it has time to begin. And when Glimmer brings herself to open her eyes again, Adora is nowhere in sight.

#glimmer #adora #glimmadora #she ra #spop #she ra fanfic #guess what i still don't know how to tag this #my writing

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takingcourage · 5 years

Text

Daybreak

Pairing: Harper x MC (Helena)

Word Count: 2,720

Summary: The night following the hunt, Helena struggles to come to terms with Mr. Harper’s challenge to the duke. (Set between Book 2, Chapters 8 and 9)

Note: Like many Harper stans, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the upcoming duel. I just don’t buy the way it’s been presented, and the copy-paste dialogue in the diamond scene did not help matters. As such, this story is my attempt to rationalize the situation, for Helena’s sake as well as my own.

Helena twisted the unruly curl tightly, her finger twirling in an endless revolution at the nape of her neck. Tendrils of flame danced erratically before her eyes, and even from several feet behind the protective grate, she still felt the sting of heat against the dry skin of her face. Aside from the gentle hiss and crack of the fire, the house was silent. With some effort, she forced herself to blink, restoring sense to eyes that had long since glazed over.

She had borne her mother’s death respectably. The illness had ravaged her body for so long that Helena had begun to absorb the loss long before it had ever come to pass. In quiet moments, the tears still came -- thoughts of how her mother would have marveled at the beautiful dresses she now wore, or memories of the warm autumn afternoons when they would sing together, wishing for a harvest that would never end. But the absence was nothing more than an ache: ever present, but dull.

Her father’s death had hit her like a blow. Although she had only known him for a short time, she had spent so many years of her life wishing to know him that the fulfillment of desire had made it seem as though he’d been there all along. She could not see the portraits of her ancestors without a searing reminder that the line now ended with her. Since his death, she had yet to face a social engagement without a tight knot in her throat. The knots would unravel eventually, but almost always left bitterness in their wake.

Luke’s death was going to be her undoing. As he had promised during her first days at Edgewater, the stable and his company had become her refuge. She had given him her vulnerability, and he had lent his strength to see her through the challenges that had plagued her ever since her arrival at Edgewater. If it had not been for him, she would have left for Grovershire as soon as her father’s casket had been swallowed by the cool black earth. His dismissal the week before had been trial enough. His death would destroy her.

“You’re going to pull it out if you keep twisting so violently, Helena.” The soft-spoken utterance broke into Helena’s thoughts and her hand slowed, hair relaxing into a loose spiral. Briar’s frame was slight, but she was close enough to block Helena’s view of the fire. At the insistent nudge on her shoulder, she raised her eyes from Briar’s skirts.

Her friend’s dark eyes, almost black without the reflection of the fire, held none of their usual mirth. “Would it help to talk?” The question posed, her brows knit in concern.

“I don’t know,” Helena responded blandly. She immediately regretted her tone, realizing that Briar had done nothing to warrant her frustration. Raising an appeasing hand, she placed it over the fingers that still cupped her shoulder.

“I don’t think you should be alone tonight. Your mind gets up to all kinds of silly notions when you’re left to your own devices.” Briar lowered herself to the settee, her free hand going to Helena’s knee. “I will not make for very merry company.” The understatement was calculated to draw one of Briar’s snorts, or perhaps even to spur a snide remark, but neither came. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Her eyes wandering back to the fire, Helena reflected upon the events of the day for what must have been the hundredth time. The breath still caught in her throat at the memory of the hatred in Luke’s eyes. She had never seen a man so angry -- had certainly never seen him so angry. As much as he was used to taking authority with the horses, she had only rarely seen the commanding side of his nature. But today, the officer within him had had spoken to Duke Richards as though the man were the greenest landsman in his charge.

She was still in awe that the duke had accepted the challenge. The fact terrified her, for she knew the grave insult it would have been to Luke for him to deny it; to prove that he thought his challenger no gentleman. His acceptance meant that he not only believed himself capable of winning, but was willing to stake his life on the odds. The duke was many things, but Helena knew he was no fool. He would not take such a risk without being certain of the outcome.

How could Luke have been so impulsive? He’d thrown away everything they’d been working for in this false pursuit of honor. It wasn’t that the duke was his better in terms of skill -- in fact, she predicted with comfortable certainty that Luke was the better shot of the two -- but rather her fear that the duke would find some way to win no matter what. Even with the many eyes that would be upon him tomorrow, the duke was resourceful. If he paid someone off to tamper with Luke’s weapon, all would be lost.

“Helena, your hair.”

Startled, she dropped the offending hand to her lap. “Sorry.” The apology sounded foolish, even to her own ears, and she hoped that Briar would not choose to dignify it with a response.

Helena turned toward the other woman, the concern in her face drawing her back to reality. Before Luke, Briar had been the one to whom Helena confided her secrets. Even now, there was little that they hid from one another.

“Would it help to tell me?”

Briar always had read her thoughts with an unnerving aptitude, Helena reflected with a feeble smile. “Perhaps.”

Taking a deep breath, she began to weave coherence from the tangled thoughts within her mind. “I was so foolish, Briar. I’ve made no secret of my attachment, and I believed that Duke Richards was already well aware that my affections lay elsewhere. I didn’t think there was any harm in meeting Mr. Harper while the duke was occupied. He’d told me to go and spend my time elsewhere, and it wasn’t as if anyone else needed me.”

“I know how much you’ve missed him this past week, Helena. In your position, I would have done the same. I’d have sought him out earlier, probably,” she mused, eyebrow raised.

Helena shook her head in vague amusement. “I might have done if the duke hadn’t arranged for all of the visitors to return to their homes instead of spending the night at Edgewater. Truly, you’d think he’d never hosted a hunting party before.”

She knew little of such events, but she had been under the impression that hunts lasted several days and included much amusement and socialization beyond what happened in the forest. From the way Mr. Marlcaster spoke of their previous ventures, it did not seem unusual for a party to stay for many days or even weeks. She didn’t know the Duke’s motives for disrupting convention, but she little trusted them.

“The sooner he has left, the better it will be for Edgewater. All of the servants despise him,” Briar admitted. Helena knew that Briar could have said much more on the subject, for she hated the duke with a ferocity that rivaled even her own disgust toward the man. “But you were speaking of Mr. Harper…”

“Yes, he wrote to me to ask me to meet him by some ruins on the estate grounds. We were so happy to see one another that I’m afraid we acted rashly.” She inhaled sharply at the recollection of the words that had jarred her from the bliss of Luke’s arms.

Briar gasped. “Oh, Helena!”

Sensing the reason for the outburst, Helena’s cheeks colored even further. “We did not….” she attempted to clarify, but the words fell short. She could say no more without sharing details that were too intimate, still too raw in the face of disappointment and fear.

If they had not been discovered… a thrill swept through her at the possibilities of what might have occurred. But those desires were too indecent to discuss, even with Briar. She wasn’t even certain that Luke was aware of how willing she had been in his arms. The memory of his firm body, pressed strong and sure against her own still sent a rush of heat through her core. She could imagine herself passing this time quite differently if he had not returned to Hazelvale the hour the challenge was issued.

I will see that all is made ready, Miss Parsons had promised. Helena had no reason to disbelieve her friend’s intentions, but the promise did little to allay her fears. What could really be done in so small a span of time? Besides, having him so far away had rendered her helpless. She would have given much to have him beside her now…

Astounded by the wanderings of her mind, Helena cleared her throat in hopes of regaining her focus. “Luke -- I mean, Mr. Harper and I kissed and talked for a long while. The duke found us in what was clearly a passionate embrace, and Mr. Harper was quite upset by it. I little remember what he said, but it ended with him issuing the challenge.”

“It’s all very romantic, but I suppose it’s hardly sensible.”

“It makes very little sense whatsoever. But he must have had his reasons.” The words were barely audible, carried into nothingness by the crackling of the flames before them.

“The days without you have been torture, Helena.” His thumb had trailed the apple of her cheek, moving with such slow tenderness that her skin trembled beneath the touch.

“I never realized how fortunate I was to have you here every day. I’ve been searching for any excuse to visit Miss Parsons so that I might see you. But the duke has seen to it that I’ve been very busy these past days, and I’ve been trying to aid the countess in coaxing secrets from him. I can’t tell you how grateful I was when I saw you in the ballroom yesterday evening.”

He’d smiled easily at her admission, but she could just discern the tension in his eyes. “I imagine you were as grateful to see me as I was to see you. You lit the entire room.” For a moment, indecision crossed his face. She’d tried to sooth it away with the tips of her fingers, but to no avail. “Helena, I don’t think that I have it in me to leave you again. I could live without you for a time if I knew that you were being cared for, but I cannot protect you from so many miles away. I know that there are others who are allied to your cause, but I could not live with myself if something happened to you while I was away.”

“What are you proposing?” She marveled at him. Up to now, she had always been the one to suggest running away. She knew that the desires of his heart were similar to her own, but he had always kept a quiet confidence that all would be settled in time. She could feel the thrumming of her heart at the side of her throat, every part of her keen in the anticipation of his words.

“I’m proposing that your plan for returning to Grovershire may not be as ridiculous as I have claimed before. As much as I want to honor your father’s wishes, surely he would not value your inheritance over your safety and wellbeing. If you cannot live here without threat, then we will leave this place together.”

“I would go anywhere with you,” she’d answered simply, delighting in the kiss he pressed to the back of her hand. She’d melted against him, her roving hands gaining confidence as they traveled the planes of his chest. A startling sensation of pleasure tingled through her as he sucked her bottom lip, teeth grazing the swollen pink flesh...

Even now, she almost whimpered at the memory.

“....and your lady grandmother is going to be very upset that Mr. Harper has tried to spoil the engagement, even now that she’s seen the duke’s true colors.” Briar’s voice filtered in, the mention of her grandmother finally breaking through the wistful reminiscence.

With a shake of the head to clear her thoughts, Helena attempted to reenter the conversation. “My grandmother supports me fully. She told me this morning that she would help to break off the engagement. All I needed to do was pretend that nothing had changed. She did not want Duke Richards to have any reason for suspicion.”

“This is good news!” Briar reacted impulsively, knee knocking against Helena’s in her enthusiasm. There was a pause before she continued. “Or it would be good news if Mr. Harper hadn’t gone and spoiled it by challenging him to a duel.”

“I don’t know what he was thinking.” The words flowed from her lips automatically, spilling over from the frustration that had been rising since the afternoon. “Why would he upset my plans for such a foolhardy scheme?”

“Men! I swear, sometimes I don’t know why we put up with them.”

Briar’s complaints fell on deaf ears as Helena’s mind latched onto the facts before her. “He didn’t know,” she whispered, astonished. “Oh, Briar! He didn’t know anything about my grandmother’s promise. I never told him.”

“I’m still not sure that excuses his behavior.”

“But it makes a good deal more sense to me now. If only there were some way to explain the misunderstanding and put an end to the duel.”

The women pondered the predicament solemnly, each knowing that the question could have no satisfactory answer.

“Are you afraid, Helena?” Briar attempted finally, a chastening hand traveling to Helena’s neck to draw her fingers away from the much-abused lock of hair.

“Yes, very much. He is the only thing that matters to me in this world, Briar. I would sooner marry the duke tomorrow than let Luke die for a chance at preventing it.” This time, she made no attempt to maintain propriety. With dawn rapidly approaching, formalities scarcely seemed to matter.

Helena was the first one out the door at the sound of hooves on gravel. Rushing down from her second-story bedroom, she flew onto the lawn just as Mr. Harper was dismounting. Undetected, she followed him to the stable and watched as he removed the horse’s tack, speaking to the animal in tones too low to be discernible.

“Luke!” Her presence known, she flung herself toward him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he lifted her from the flagstone floor.

“Helena.” He tightened his grip on her, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. Her eyes stung at the heat of his breath on her skin. His scent, at once so familiar and alluring, intoxicated her senses and pushed the mounting tears from their precarious balance. How could she ever let him go? She had to swallow hard to force the whisper from her lips. “I know you don’t have much time. But I couldn’t bear not to see you.”

“I’m glad that you did.” He returned her to the floor, tracing a finger along her cheek. In the subtle glow of the lanterns, she could almost convince her heart that they were in another world. That it wasn’t morning and that there was nothing for them outside the stone walls of the stables. But her mind knew better.

Too overcome to speak, she pulled forth the item from her skirts, fixing it firmly in his grasp as she took his hand. Recognizing it immediately, his features settled into a rueful smile. Eyes never wavering from her face, he brushed the loose curls from her forehead. His free hand slipped the coin into his pocket before taking her hand once more. “Thank you, Helena.”

“I expect you to be the one to return this to me.” Her voice wavered, but she could not miss the effect her words had on him, nor the effect they had on her own spirits. He had seemed far from hopeless before, but the resolve that impressed his features was now palpable.

“Good luck, my love.” She pulled him close for one final embrace as the first streaks of light began wending their way up the horizon.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #desire and decorum #luke harper #harper x mc

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 6 years

Text

Maybe We’ll Work It Out - Harry Styles

Ahh, I still can’t believe how much love these series of One Shots are getting! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for the love!!!

If you haven’t previously read I Hope You Can See The Shape That I’m In and Apologies Are Never Gonna To Fix This, then make sure you read those first!! :)

This is Part 3, I will warn you there is a bit of smut and links to visuals towards the middle/end of the one shot!

Enjoy!

Before you could even think about falling asleep, you had to have a shower. Not only did you smell like a bar floor, but you need to just cleanse yourself from everything that’s happened from the night. You unzipped your dress letting it fall to the ground. You walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

You grabbed a towel and placed it on the hook closest to the shower and got in. You stood under the water as the steamy, hot water fell over you. The hairspray and sweat in your hair ran out and what was left from your makeup was wiped away. You used some of Harry’s shampoo, which actually was the same as yours.

When you first started dating, he used a different brand and scent, but the longer you two were together, he switched over because he claimed it worked wonders on his hair. But it was really because it reminded him of you. You didn’t know how to feel knowing he still was using it after all this time. After you shampooed and rinsed out your hair, you washed your body and sat down on the floor of the shower.

You felt mentally drained from the day, but you knew tomorrow would be just as exhausting. The water temperature started running cold, so you turned it off and got out. You wrapped the towel around your body as you dried off and went back into the room. You took the old t-shirt Harry had given you and put it on.

It was your favorite.

The one you would always steal whenever you stayed at his house.

You sighed pulling back the blankets on the bed and climbing inside. You laid there thinking and processing everything from the conversation you and Harry. Although due to the yelling, was it really a conversation? Anyway, you stared at the ceiling as you thought about what Harry had said.

Knowing how hurt he was thinking about you with someone else, made you feel like utter shit. Knowing he still thought of you and wanted to be with you, made you feel so fucking confused about everything. When you broke it off with him, it felt like what needed to happen. Your relationship had changed in your eyes and you took that as a sign that he wasn’t interested anymore.

You tossed and turned for the next two hours. You needed the sleep if you were going to have any sort of coherent talk with Harry in the morning, but there was just too much going on in your mind for your body to get any rest.

Anne didn’t speak to Harry once they were in her room. She just turned the light off and got in her bed. Harry sighed as he tried to maneuver around the room in the dark. He took off his trousers and climbed into the second bed, which of course was furthest from the door.

“Shit,” he mumbled when he tripped over something and he was pretty sure he hit his pinky toe on a table.

He finally made to the bed and climbed in under the blankets. His hand was on his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling. His hand was aching from punching the guy and his muscles were sore from being so tensed up. He could really use a hot shower, but he was not about to wake his Mum again.

Harry tried closing his eyes, but the only thing he could think of you and that night’s events. All the emotion that spewed out of you and Harry, it was more than obvious that you both had feelings for each. That you both were still in love with one another.

But what worried him most was what if so much shit had already happened and so many words had been said, that there wasn’t any way to move past them and be together.

What if you two never worked it out?

What if he spent the rest of his life with someone else, regretting it wasn’t you?

A single tear ran down his cheek as he finally forced himself to fall asleep.

The sunrise shining through the curtains in the room woke you up. You had only gotten a few hours of sleep, if that when you rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw just how puffy your eyes were. There was an ache in your hand and the memories of last came flooding back.

You sighed as you gurgled some mouthwash from Harry’s bag and went back into the room. You weren’t sure what to do next. Should you leave? Would Harry be coming back? You had your suitcase with you, so you could change into something and head out and you’d never had to see him again.

But you knew talking to him was something you needed to do. You needed to let all of your feelings out and hear him out as well. If not for anything, but closure. Closure so you could finally move on and be happy.

However, is that you really wanted? Did you want to move on from Harry? Did you want closure and for you two to never be together again?

If you were being honest with yourself, the answer would be no. You wanted to be with Harry more than anything. He was it for you. If there ever was such thing as the one, he would be it for you. But after everything you did, how could he ever forgive you.

After knowing you were with other people, surely he wasn’t going to want you anymore. I mean would you feel any different if he was the one who was trying to sleep around with others. Probably not.

Once again, you ruined everything.

Harry woke up before his Mum did. He knew she was disappointed in him because he was disappointed in himself. He never should have gotten to that level last night, but he did. It all stemmed from the anger and hurt he had been bottling up over the last few months and then actually seeing you with someone else first hand, just took it over the top.

Plus, the way that dick talked about you.. he just lost control.

Which caused him to lose control with you last night. When he wanted to talk to you about everything, he never wanted it to turn into a screaming match like it had. But there was just so many emotions and accusations going around it was hard not to.

He felt calmer that morning, a bit ashamed, but definitely calmer. He wanted to get the talk with you over with because he couldn’t wait it out any longer. He had to let out all of his feelings and he had to know if it was really going to be over with you. He needed closure.

Even if deep down, closure was the last thing he wanted.

You were just about to change into your own clothes when you heard the room door open. You froze at the realization that Harry was coming back to his room, well either him or someone else with a key. Either way, it wasn’t a good situation. When Harry walked in, he was surprised to see you awake.

“Oh... I uh... I wasn’t sure if you-” he whispered.

“Uh, yeah, the uh sun woke me up,” you stated.

He nodded playing with the room key in his hand. Thick and extremely awkward tension filled the room as the two of you remained quick. Both of you were afraid to speak because of what happened last night. You didn’t want what could be the last conversation with him to be a screaming match.

After a few moments of staring at the floor, Harry broke the silence.

“We both have a lot we need to talk about,” he started. “But I don’t want us to start fighting again or yelling.”

“I don’t either,” you sighed.

“Then how about this,” he said. “We both promise not to raise our voices.”

You nodded as you played with the hem of his shirt you were still wearing.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you on the bed?” He asked gesturing with his right hand.

You shrugged,”Technically this is your room and your bed, so you don’t have to ask.”

He nodded walking over and sitting on the opposite side of you. You both were still far enough part so if things did get heated, but still close enough to carry on a proper conversation.

“How’s your hand?” He asked.

“It uh... it hurts a bit, but I think it’s okay,” you said.

“I’d really feel better about it if you had a doctor look at it,” he said. “I don’t want it getting infected or something.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out,” you said.

He nodded,”I’m uh... I’m sorry for how I acted last night. Both at the bar and in here last night. I never should... gotten to that point... I just lost control.”

You sighed, “I won’t say it’s okay, but I understand and it’s not like you’re the only one to blame or who didn’t lose control. I’m just as guilty as you are. I’m sorry... I... I’m sorry for what happened at the bar. I never should have rubbed it in your face or try to hurt you. And I never should have yelled at you last night.”

“It’s over. It happened.... we don’t need to talk about it anymore,” he whispered.

You bit your lip as you looked down at your hand. The bandage was still on your palm, but the corners were starting to unstick.

“But we do need to talk about us,” he said. “I need to tell you how I feel about you... about what happened between... about everything.”

You looked up at him and saw him staring right into your eyes. His eyes matched yours as they were red and puffy. They were starting to become watery, but he refused to let tears fall down.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’ve never stopped loving and honestly, I don’t think I ever fucking will. When we fought that night and you broke up with me, I was so hurt and upset because I felt like you were just walking away from everything we built... so I wanted to hurt you as much as I was hurting. I regret every word I said to you when you left and I’m always going to regret saying those words. I should have told you what I’m telling you now and then maybe... maybe if I had none of what’s happened over these last few months would have happened.”

You wanted to interrupt him, but you knew he had more to say.

“You had every right to be upset for me not coming to see you on tour when I had the chance. I should have been honest with you and told you why I wanted to stay in London instead. I also should have been upfront that my ex was going to be there too. I just didn’t know that me being there was that important to you,” he said. “I mean... I never would have thought that by me not going you were going to think I didn’t love you anymore... or that I didn’t care.”

“Because I did care and I still do,” he said. “I... at the time I decided not to go I didn’t see it as a big deal, but looking back now... I should have communicated with you about it and that’s on me.”

“But I also shouldn’t have overreacted about it,” you said. “And honestly, I first... I didn’t. It wasn’t a big deal to me... until... until I saw who you were spending your time with. I didn’t think anything of it, but the more I saw you two hanging out... the more my mind started to race with all of these thoughts. I know you... I know you loved me and I knew you would never cheat on me, but we hadn’t seen each other in so long at that point and knowing we had the opportunity to, but you chose not to come... it just put so many bad thoughts in my mind and I started to believe them.”

Harry took your noninjured hand into his and ran his thumb over it.

“You’re right... I’ve never cheated on you and I’d never,” he whispered. “And I understand why you thought what you did despite knowing I wouldn’t do something like that. The distance can really fuck with our heads.”

“I really made a mess of things,” you whispered.

“Baby, you didn’t,” he whispered squeezing your hands. “Maybe.. maybe apart of what you were saying was right. Maybe we were drifting apart in some ways, but that didn’t mean we didn’t love each other. It was just our lives were different than we first got together, so it was bound to happen. But it also didn’t mean we couldn’t have tried to work through it.”

“And it’s too late to find out now,” you sniffled.

“Why would you say that?” He asked.

You sighed standing up from the bed.

“Because Harry... we’ve both hurt each other... but I’ve hurt you more,” you cried. “I saw how hurt you were last night and how broken you were... there’s no way you can forgive me for what I’ve done.”

“I won’t lie to you and tell you that picturing you with other guys didn’t make me physically sick to my stomach,” he said. “But-baby-there’s nothing to forgive you for... we weren’t together... you were hurting... I can’t blame or judge you for that.”

“But I-” you said.

“Do you love me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Do you want to be with me?’ He asked.

“More than anything,” you sniffled.

“Then it’s settled...” he said.

“But Harry-” You started to say, but Harry interrupted you by pulling you into his arms.

The feeling of being in his arms again felt right. You felt at home. He held you close to him for quite a while before taking your face into his and looking into your eyes.

“We love each other, Y/N,” he whispered. “We’re in love with each other and we want to be together... we want to work this out. There is no maybe or buts... we will work this out because we’re meant to be together. I don’t give a shit about those other guys because they may have been in your bed for one night... but they never had your heart.”

“Never,” you whispered looking into his eyes. “It’s always belonged to you.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he whispered before pressing his lips to yours in a heated a kiss.

The second his lips caressed yours everything came rushing back to you. Every emotion, every feeling, every memory, every touch, every longing... all of it hit you like a ton of bricks as you kissed him back. He was the missing piece in your happiness over the last few months.

And even though nothing was perfect and back to normal, being there in his arms was a start and you wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else in that moment.

Harry deepened the kiss shortly after as you felt his tongue meeting with yours. A moan escaped from the back of his throat as he tugged on the hem of his shirt covering your body. He tore his lips from yours momentarily just so he could pull the worn fabric over your head. You, of course, weren’t wearing a bra, which caught him off guard a bit, but he smiled down at you nonetheless.

He held you close to him while his hands ran up your back. He knelt down in front of you, trailing kisses down your stomach. You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against your skin and the remaining fabric on you being pushed down your legs. You stepped out of them and he stood up wrapping his arms around you once again.

Harry stood behind you, pressing his lips along your back and neck. You tilted your head to the opposite side and he ran his lips along the skin of your shoulder, nipping at the skin there. You gasped, turning around and pressing your lips against his again. Harry smiled into your lips as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you giggled. “Why am I the only one naked here?”

He laughed and watched you as you pushed his gym shorts down. He sucked a breath when he felt the coolness of the air in the room hit him. He laid you down on the bed and ran his hand down your body as he stared into your eyes.

“God, I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“Hm, I love you too,” you whispered. “Now, make love to me, please...It’s been far too fucking long.”

“Gladly,” he smirked bringing his lips to yours.

Your hands found their way to his hair as you kissed him back. His hair had grown so much since the last time you saw him. You hadn’t really noticed when you saw him earlier in the day, but now that your fingers were in his hair, you really noticed.

He removed his lips from yours and brought them down your neck. His tongue worked its way along every inch of your collarbone and shoulder before giving extra attention to your chest. You lifted your chest against him as you squirmed beneath him. He smirked up at you before removing his lips from your breasts and trailing them down your stomach.

His hands moved up and down your legs as he pulled them further apart. He bent down to press light kisses up both of your legs and onto the skin of your inner thighs. You whimpered at the anticipation of what would happen next. He lifted your hips up and placed your legs onto his shoulders. He brought his line of kisses up to your center and you moaned when you felt his tongue against you.

His movements started out soft and slow, paying extra attention to detail. You gripped onto the sheets of the bed and you were certain your nails would leave holes in them before all of this was over. You were lost in the pleasure from his tongue that you didn’t even realize he added his finger until your body forcibly let out a loud groan.

Your cheeks flushed red from arousal and embarrassment at the fact everyone on the floor could probably hear you. Harry smirked up at you and laughed.

“Baby, everyone heard us last night, at the very least they should hear us making up right?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes as your hips bucked up and your legs started to shake. He quickened his movements and you lost it. When you were done, he kissed his way back up to your lips and you placed your hands on his cheeks.

“How many of those other wankers made you cum like that?” He whispered looking into your eyes.

“Harry-” you sighed.

“Tell me,” he whispered. “I want to know if they made you feel like I make you feel... if they make you scream like I do...”

“Not even close,” you whispered looking into his eyes. “I usually had to finish on my own after I kicked them out.”

“Amateurs,” he rolled his eyes.

You giggled kissing his nose causing him to scrunch it up. “Do you... uh... do you have a condom?” You asked.

“Um... let me check,” he said getting up from the bed and going over to his suitcase.

You giggled as you watched him scramble around the room.

“Found em!” He smirked proudly as he picked the tiny travel box from the bottom of the suitcase.

“Then get back here already,” you laughed.

He smirked and rushed over to the bed, tripping on the way, causing you to laugh even more.

“Still not the most graceful, huh?” You smirked.

“Do you want me to fuck you or not? Because if you keep laughing... I don’t think you deserve it,” he smirked.

“It’s been well over six months since we’ve fucked... do you really want to go longer than that because I’m laughing at you?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Touche,” he said pointing at you.

He tore open the wrapper and slipped the condom over him before joining you back on the bed. You both let the mood settle again as you looked into each other’s eyes. When you gave him a slight nod, he slipped inside of you and you both gasped at the connection.

Once he was inside of you, he didn’t move right away. He allowed you to get used to him and also to savor the moment of being together again. He kissed gentle kisses on your forehead and the rest of your face before finally moving at a slow pace.

The sounds of heavy breathing, soft whispers of love, and the occasional movement of the bed filled the room. Harry kissed down your neck as he continued to move inside of you. You threw your head back and gasped as pleasure went through your body with each movement.

After a bit, you pushed your hands against his chest so he’d lay on the back of the bed. You straddled him and moved on top of him as he held your hips. He moaned in your ear as you kissed his neck and held him close you.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

You smirked pressing your lips against his as you continued your movements. You both were still going on a slow, steady, and passionate pace, but he could tell you were getting tired from being on top. He ran his hands up your sides and gently flipped you both over again.

He moved deeper inside of you as he kissed your forehead, gazing into your eyes, as you held hands.

“Ah,” you gasped when you felt him hit that specific spot inside of you.

He smirked at you as he pulled down and pushed himself inside you harder than before causing you to cry out. He repeated that gesture over and over again until he felt you clenching around him. He knew you were close and thank god for that because he was about to burst himself. He turned you back over so you were on your back and he pushed himself inside of you again.

He quickened his pace more and the room was now filled with heavy moans and whimpers as you both were reaching your limit. Your hands had been wrapped up in his hair, but he pulled them away and pushed them onto the bed as he slipped his hand on yours, lacing your hands together.

When the pleasure finally released from your body, you cried out as you gripped on to him. As soon as he felt you clenched around him and your wetness dripping down him, he lost all control over his body and he let go, with a cry of his own. You both rode out the wave of pleasure together and he slowed his movements altogether.

He stared down at you. Your hair was a mess, your face and body covered in sweat. Your lips were red and swollen from his kisses. He laid his head on your chest as he listened to the sound of your heartbeat. It was beating much faster than normal but slowly started to get back to normal as your body got down from the high.

When he pulled out of you, he disposed of the condom, while you went into the bathroom. Once you were back in the bed, he wrapped his arms around you and laced his hand with yours. You both laid there in silence for a few moments before you both ended up falling asleep.

A few hours later, you woke up naked next to Harry. It was so weird to think of all that had happened in your relationship and over the last few months, yet here you were, in bed with him, with the plan of working on your relationship. He was still sleeping, but you found yourself tracing your hand along his arm.

You both were scheduled to leave on separate flights later that day and that made you both nervous and upset. You two were literally just back together, but you were going to be apart again. Harry started to stir next to you and it didn’t take long before his eyes were looking into yours.

“Hm, my favorite thing ever is waking up and seeing your face first thing,” he smiled. “Especially when you’re naked.”

You giggled a bit and turned your gaze from him.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered.

“I'm just... we’re leaving this afternoon... on separate flights... to places that are literally thousands of miles away,” you whispered. “I just got you back... I’m not ready to lose you again.

“Hey, come here,” he whispered pulling you into him and pressing his lips against yours.

After a few moments of kissing, he pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“You’re not going to lose me because I’m not going back home. At least... not right away. I’ve got a few days free in my schedule before I have something to do. We still have things to talk to through and figure out how to go about working us out and everything,” he said.

“I love you,” you whispered putting your hand on his cheek.

“And I love you,” he whispered. “We’re going to make this work out, baby. I promise you.”

“I know,” you smiled. “And you promise me we’re going to always be together?”

“Forever,” he smiled lacing his hands with yours.

THE END!!! I hope you all enjoyed it!!!

For the rest of the week, I’ll be doing different One Shot/Blurb ideas... so send them in!!!

@hes-a-rainbow Here’s part 3! :)

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles One Shots

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 6 years

Text

Get to Know You Better Part 14

Summary: Gabrielle has a nine-year-old son who is a huge Captain America fan. He notices one of the actors on the subway and loudly points it out to her. That’s when Gabrielle realizes that actor was the man she had a one-night-stand with the week before.

Chapter Summary: Sebastian and Gabrielle can’t hide anything from James. And Jessie and Nick won’t let up.

Warnings: None

I was pregnant. And it still came as a shock to Sebastian and I. It was nice to think about the possibilities but now those were a reality. And things had to be put in motion.

Look for a bigger apartment.

Give landlord my thirty-day notice.

Shop for baby stuff.

Tell James about the baby.

I was nervous about the last item on the list. But we couldn’t start on any of the other plans until he knew or he’d get suspicious.

I couldn’t stall much longer, my pregnancy would only last so long and there was so much to do. So, I sat down with him and Sebastian at his favorite restaurant. We sat outside with Captain sitting underneath the table at James’s feet.

“So what do you have to tell me?” James asked before we even ordered food.

“What?”

“It’s pretty obvious that we went out to dinner because you wanted to tell me something.” He explained bluntly.

“Well…we do.”

“I know.”

“What would you think about moving into an apartment with Sebastian?” I asked gently.

James nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He smiled. “Can I take my stuff with me?”

“Of course. And you’ll probably get a bigger room and you can decorate it however you want.” Sebastian promised.

“Why are we moving?” James wondered but didn’t seem too worried about the concept.

“Well, we need another room between the three of us because we’re going to have a new addition.”

“You’re pregnant.”

Sebastian nearly choked on his drink and I dropped my menu.

“James Wilson, how in the world…”

“So you aren’t?”

“No, I am…I mean…” I cursed under my breath. Sometimes he was too smart for his own good.

“How did you find out?” Sebastian seemed a bit fascinated on how he was able to come to that conclusion so quickly.

“Mom was acting super weird. And you guys wanted to tell me something. Either you were getting married or you were having a baby. Mom didn’t have an engagement ring so…” He shrugged. “Plus she just confirmed it for me.”

“An-and how do you feel about that?” I asked cautiously.

He shrugged. “I think it would be cool. I kinda wanted to be a big brother.” He admitted shyly.

“I think you’d be great at the job.” I smiled. “But if you weren’t okay with it, would you tell me?”

“Yeah probably.” He tilted his head to the side. “But I think it would make you guys happy to have a baby.”

“It doesn’t mean we love you any less,” I assured him.

“Duh, I know you love me, mom. You never let me forget it.” He smiled.

Sebastian and I laughed softly. “Well, we’re glad to hear it, buddy,” Sebastian said softly. “We’ll be a great little family, don’t you think?” He glanced over at me with pure happiness in his eyes.

“The best.” I agreed.

================

There was a loud ping waking me up at midnight. I groaned and turned over in bed. Sebastian grumbled and tried to pull me closer in his sleep.

I artfully reached over to the nightstand without leaving his warm embrace. I grabbed my phone and winced at the brightness that suddenly flooded the room.

Isabel: Have you seen this?

She was sending me a link. It wasn’t rare. She often sent me links about weird medical news; she was a pediatrician or certain celebrity updates. Sometimes she took pictures of People magazines from her waiting room. I constantly had to remind her that the magazines were months old and Brad and Angelina weren’t together anymore.

But my friend never texted me past ten unless she was drunk. Her words were coherent so I opened the link to a small celebrity gossip site, one that would report on Meghan Markle standing in line at the bank.

Sebastian Stan allegedly dating single mother. Reporter tells all about the scandalous relationship.

My blood ran cold. “No, no, no, no.” I started scrolling through the story.

Sebastian started to stir. “Gabby…”

“Goddammit, I knew it.” I hissed and sat up quickly.

“Gabby, whasamatter?”

“That snake. That sorry excuse for a human. Oh, my God, I knew it.”

He began to wake up more when he heard the anger in my voice. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” He rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow.

“Ooh, I’m going to make him wish he was never born.” I threw the covers aside and stood up.

“Gabrielle, tell me what’s wrong!”

“His fucking fiancee is a reporter. He told her to sell a story about us and she did!” I shook my phone furiously.

“Nick?”

“Yes!”

“Alright, alright, sh…” He tried to coax me back to bed. “James is sleeping.”

“I’m going to kill him, I swear to God.” I started rummaging through my closet.

“What does it say, did you read it?”

I held the screen up to reread the words out loud. “Jessie Bowen, who is engaged to the father of the child, tells about a custody case. And while the mother continues to date Stan, she has banned contact between the child, nine, and his father, Nicholas Walsh. She reveals the mother threatened Walsh and her several times. They plan to appeal the custody case, but one can wonder why the Marvel actor continues to see her.” Angry tears streamed down my cheeks.

Sebastian was quiet for a second and I could tell he was suppressing an upset reaction. “You and I know that’s not true. They know it’s not true too but they can delude themselves into whatever they want. We just need to ignore them.”

“So they can spread more lies about me? People I know will find out!” I exclaimed but tried to keep quiet for James’s sake.

“And you can tell the truth. People know not to trust these sites.” He reminded me and yawned. “I don’t know why they weren’t painting me in a bad light too.” He wondered out loud. “I was the one about to beat him up.”

“Because they want your fans to turn on me,” I replied sharply. “They want everyone to think I’m a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be in my own son’s life!” I sobbed.

“Sh, sh, sh.” Sebastian got up and enveloped me in his arms. “It’s okay…we’re going to counteract this. I’ll contact my agent tomorrow and put out the real story.”

“So we’re going to put ourselves under the microscope even more?”

“We need to set it straight if it bothers you so much.” He gently ran his fingers through my hair. “But I’ll make sure people know to give you respect and privacy. Anything they have to say they can say to me.”

“You don’t deserve to go through this. I brought you into this mess, it’s all my fault.”

“Hey, look at me.” He tilted my chin up. “You’re not fighting this alone. I’ll remind you a million times if I have to but I have your back. When you love someone, you’re there to support them no matter what’s thrown at you. I know the real you, not the person they’re trying to make you out to be. Those lies won’t stand, not while I’m around to defend you.”

I swallowed. “I hate him…” I whispered. “Why won’t he just leave me alone?”

“Because he’s bitter. People who aren’t happy need to bring down people who are.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll handle this, I promise. But you need to sleep. All this stress isn’t good for the baby, right?” He rested a hand on my stomach and forced a smile. “Think about the positives. Try not to think about their lies, okay?”

I nodded slowly and let him lead me back to bed. I curled up with him and tried to block out all the words I had read.

They weren’t true. They weren’t true. They weren’t true.

Masterpost

Tag List: @jazzwoman897 @take-my-life-not-my-heart @gurveersidhuu @kimmiestrawberrykiwi @annoyingcolorcycle @kimberlydyan @darkrose97

#sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #Marvel rpf #marvel actor #actor rpf #marvel actor rpf #sebastian stan x ofc #single mother ofc #sebastian stan x single mother #ofc

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theshepherdandthehunter · 6 years

Text

A New Seattle Leaf

DRABBLE

A/N: I just wrote this short drabble in like 30 minutes, on my phone, in my notes app, exhausted, and a lil high on anxiety meds (read hella fuzzy in my brain, not actually high, but it kinda feels like I'm drunk??). I did this as a free writing "just write whatever comes into your mind" kinda exercise, to help calm me down (and it worked, so 10/10 recommend doing this). Long story short, however, this could be utter shit, and I might remove it tomorrow morning once I wake up and am able to form coherent thoughts. BUT IT MIGHT ALSO BE GOOD (nurture that self-confidence, you know), or somewhere in between that spectrum? The story itself is set right after Amelia moves to Seattle from LA, and I think this is what would be considered AU. Now, before this note becomes longer than the actual drabble, ENJOY!!

***

"Amelia", his voice cuts through the disarray of the ER, leaving no doubt as to who it was directed at. Inaudible to, or at least unnoticed by, anyone else but her. "Amelia, wait". But she pushed through the cluster of people surrounding her, suffocating her. She needed to get out, get to the front door, get through it, breath. Breath.

Rushing passed the front desk, Amelia made her way through the exit and into the warm summer Seattle night. Stumbling a few more steps, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Was she supposed to breath in through her mouth and out through her nose, or was it the other way around? She didn't remember in her current state. It didn't matter. Fresh air. Time to think. No interference. That was all that mattered.

With her eyes still closed, she stumbled a few more steps forward, knowing the way to her favorite bench in front of the hospital entrance all too well. She could find it with her eyes closed, easily. Taking more deep breaths (she thought it might actually be breath in through your nose because she was getting all kinds of dizzy now) repeatedly until she reached her destination.

The problem was, as soon as she sat down, she realized it would have been an exponentially better idea to open her eyes for at least a second or two to check no one else was occupying her bench. Instead, she found herself colliding with another body just as she lowered herself unceremoniously onto the presumed hard seat.

"Oh my god", she squealed , her eyes flying open, as she flew back upright to a standing position. Turning around, and coming face to face with her unintentional cushion, the terror in the pit of her stomach exploded. Her mouth slightly hanging open, dumbfounded, she stared into the man's eyes for a few seconds before uttering two words that made her want to disappear into thin air: "Chief Hunt".

The tall, ginger doctor sitting on her bench, albeit in a position that betrayed his suppressed urge to jump up as well, now looked up at her with an amused sparkle in his eyes. "Doctor Shepherd", his voice sounded low, almost hoarse. He too must have pulled off a few shifts in a row. "If you were so adamant on sitting in this exact spot, as opposed to the room on either side of me, all you had to do was ask". His face remained stern, but his voice betrayed a tone of amusement. He was enjoying this.

"I am SO sorry," Amelia gasped, her shock slowly fading and turning into utter embarrassment, leaving her with left-over adrenaline raging through her body. "I wasn't paying attention, obviously. I mean, I definitely didn't mean to sit on you ... ON YOUR LAP, I mean ...", oh boy, she was digging a whole deeper than she could ever climb back out of. "I mean, not that I don't want to touch you ... as in, I'm not scared of it, you're not contaminated or anything. I just ...". She shook her head vigorously to stop herself from rambling more, attempting to calm herself down and utter at least one sentence that would make sense.

"I was just ... I had my eyes closed because I was trying to enjoy the night-time, fresh air. You know, calm down a little. So i wasn't paying attention, and I didn't see you sitting here ... I usually sit here", she added as an afterthought.

Doctor Owen Hunt observed her for a few seconds. Here, standing in front of him, was one of his newest attendings (quite possibly his, soon to be, new head of neuro), arrived only a few days ago. And already he found himself drawn to her. This was not a good idea.

"That's okay", he said, gently. "Why did you have your eyes closed anyway?"

Amelia huffed and plopped down onto the bench right next to Owen. "Just to calm down", how many times had she said calm down in this conversation? She couldn't recall. Maybe 90% had been in her head anyway. "Moving is always so much harder than you first expect. I'm just trying to turn a new leaf, you know?

He didn't know. Or at least, he didn't think he knew, or understood. Nonetheless, he opened his mouth and let his words go their own way. "So ... what happened?"

***

She had been finishing up the last rounds of her shift, getting ready to go home (or rather, to her brother's home) and sleep for as long as it took her to recover from her tripple shifts. She'd had delivered her tablet, along with any accompanying paper files and forms, to the department's front desk, and had said her quick see-you-later's to her colleagues.

And that's when it happened. That's when she'd seen his face. Unexpected, and not altogether a pleasant surprise. No, that was putting it mildly. It was the last face she had expected, as well as wanted, to see right then.

It was James.

James. The man she'd thought she'd loved. James. The man she'd said yes to when he'd asked her to marry him. James. The man she'd broken up with over the phone. Over the phone. Who does that? Her James. The James she hadn't spoken to even once, ever since. He'd tried to call. Many times, in fact. But she'd ignored every single attempt. She knew it was unfair, maybe even cruel. But she couldn't face him. Not even through the phone. It was too hard. She was building a new life for herself, had given herself that chance. And he was not a part of that, couldn't be. She had to do this alone. Start all over, a new leaf, a new beginning. Whatever, something like that.

But now here he was. In person. Real life James was here in Seattle. Her LA James was here in Seattle. And it shook her. This was not how it was supposed to go. This was her new leaf. An all new Seattle leaf. There was no room for LA James here.

But he was here, unquestionably, and he'd spotted her. Making eye contact with him, she stood frozen. It was as if time stood still, and no one else in the ER -no, in the entire hospital- existed.

But this wasn't how it was supposed to go, damn it. So, before his presence could taint her new Seattle leaf (irrational she knew. Psychotic really, she knew), she turned around and ran. Rushing to the exit.

And now here she was. Sitting next to her boss. The chief, and a cute one at that, no less. Telling him her (albeit abbreviated) life story as if she'd known the man for years upon years. And she didn't even stop to consider whether he actually had an interest in hearing any of it. Regardless, or maybe because of that, she just kept going.

"So," Owen started carefully. "You broke off your engagement with him over the phone?"

"Yeah," she blushed at the incredulous look he was giving her. "Definitely not one of my proudest moments".

"And now he's here?"

"Now he's here".

"And you don't want to talk to him?"

"And I don't want to talk to him", she sighed. "I know I have to. I owe him that. It's just that," she fidgeted around in her seat. "So much happened, back in LA. So much that I don't want to remember, or at least not think about for while. At least until I'm settled a little more, and am in a state where I can properly cope with it. But he ... he is part of that past. He is a reminder of everything I want to forget, for now. He's inevitably linked, one way or another, to all of it. And him being here makes it so hard to do that, to cope and compartmentalize". A few seconds of silence passed between them as Owen glimpsed the surface of all the pain within her eyes. "AND," she suddenly added, "how the hell am I going to explain all of that to HIM?"

"You just explained it to me", Owen smiled gently. "And you don't even know me that well."

Amelia, as if suddenly realizing who exactly it was that she was talking to, turned her face to meet Owen's gaze. Her eyes remained slightly horrified. "I can't believe I just told you all of that." She smirked apologetically. "I have no filter." She added. "Or so I've been told, at least."

Owen chuckled. He didn't mind this non-filter, rambling continuously, woman he'd just met. "I wouldn't know where they'd get such nonsense".

She laughed. A beautiful, whole-hearted laugh that reflected the adrenaline discharging in her body. And it warmed his heart, made him feel all fuzzy and confused at the same time. What was this crazy lady doing to him? "Listen," he heard himself say, not realizing where he was going with his words before he said them.

"It is none of my business what happened in LA, and I'm certainly not here to judge you or your decisions". He caught her eyes, and smiled. "But I can see that you're clearly ready to get far away from here, and there's a pizza place a few blocks down. So," what in the world was he doing? "If you feel like postponing the conversation that -even though I said it was not my business- you should probably have with him sometime soon, face-to-face ... do you want to go and grab some pizza?"

Amelia looked up at him, surprised.

"You know, just to help you calm down. I can't imagine sitting down on someone unexpectedly, with your eyes closed, could have been helpful in that?" That sounded like a good excuse for why he wanted to spend some time with her right?

The neurosurgeon chuckled. She knew she had to talk to James at some point, explain to him why she left LA, why she left him. She owed him that. But for now, going for pizza with her boss, who had turned out to be a most admiral listener, sounded like the best thing in the world. And if it meant that she could potentially make a new friend (a handsome, open, and kind friend ... and had she mentioned handsome?) in this new Seattle leaf, than James could wait just a little while longer.

***

A/N II: Okay yes, pretty sure this sucks, and/or is OOC, and/or is the worst thing I've ever written. I'm never writing on meds again. BUT, it was very fun to write and that's what matters! This is not proof read, or read through entirely at all really. I'm so ready to fall asleep! My sincerest apologies for any spelling, grammar, or any other mistake I've made! I hope you enjoyed, and as always, let me know what you guys think! Feedback warms my heart, and nurtures my self-confidence (see how I brought that back? Full circle ... OKAY OFF TO BED NOW, it's clearly necessary)

#omelia #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #caterina scorsone #kevin mckidd #omelia fanfiction #omelia fic #omeliafic #fanfiction #drabble #amelia x owen #grey's anatomy #A New Seattle Leaf Fic

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veneataur · 6 years

Text

Fandom: Salvation

A/N: This one turned out to be longer than I expected but hopefully it’s enjoyable. I’m not sure if all of the medical stuff is right.

On day 16 Liam notices something different about Darius.

By this point, Liam isn’t sure how many days they’ve worked on the new AI, but they are making progress. At least Liam thinks they are. He’s definitely learning more about programming.

This morning, however, he notices that something is off with Darius. The man is normally hard-working and obsessive, but there’s a frenziness to that’s not normal and instantly Liam knows that the man is trying not to think about something. If he were one of the grad school buddies, he’d know how to talk to them, but this is Darius. Liam would consider him friends with Darius but not the sort to talk about whatever’s on his mind.

So, he decides to let it go. Maybe Darius will work his way out of whatever’s on his mind. When Darius works through lunch without a word, Liam sneaks off to grab them both some food. Darius takes no notice of Liam’s disappearance or the food.

“Darius,” Liam says about mid-afternoon when he’s worked up the courage to speak. He’s not afraid of Darius; it’s how to talk to him about what’s on his mind.

“Darius,” he says louder when the man doesn’t answer.

“What?” Darius sound uncharacteristically startled and confused.

“Are you okay?”

“Just working. I’d like to get this part of the programming done today. We’re so close to finishing.” Darius turns his eyes back to the computer, typing as he speaks.

Liam lets him go for a few minutes, considering his next move. It’s true that they’re nearly done, but it’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow or for a few hours at the very least.

“Alright. That’s it, Darius. We’re done for a while,” Liam says.

“What? Liam, we still have much work to do.”

“Do you even know what time it is? Do you know that lunch was two hours ago?”

Darius is quiet as Liam sees his mind working to sort out the time and events.

“Come on, at least a few hours break. Maybe stare at something that’s not a computer screen and get something other than water and air to eat.”

“I’m fine here.”

“No, you’re not.” Liam pauses when Darius glares at him. “Look, I know that I haven’t known you all that long and I’m just your employee, but I think we’ve worked together enough that I can see when something’s not right. You don’t have to tell me, but you do need a break. Weren’t you ever told all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Liam almost takes a real step back at that. “Well, it’s true and you need a break.”

“I don’t need a break, Liam,” Darius says, frustration rising. “That’s the last thing I want. Need,” he adds quickly. “Last thing I need. And since, as you’ve said, you’re just my employee, you have no right to tell me when to stop working.”

Liam sighs as Darius goes back to work, angrily typing away at the keys and steadfastly ignoring him. Rather than continue arguing, Liam leaves, wandering downstairs to check on the asteroid. There haven’t been any further problems, but he likes to check it frequently.

Occasionally, he glances up at Darius, who is still working away as the sun sets. Liam himself finds some work to do down there, going to get dinner when he gets hungry. He takes a sandwich up to Darius, who still doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

How long this continues, Liam isn’t sure. He falls asleep at his workstation sometime in the late evening, having laid his head down while the computer ran through some simulations. He wakes to a thump. He jumps, looking around. For days it’s been just him and Darius, but people did get in before. There’s no one in sight though. He looks up to see Darius’ workroom light still on and sighs. It’s three in the morning and the man is still hard at work. This has to end, at least for the night. Liam realizes he has to make Darius at least pause for his health.

With a sigh, he pushes himself to his feet and trudges up the steps. Halfway up, he doesn’t see Darius’ head as he’s accustomed to. Maybe, he thinks, the man’s taken a break on his own. But he wouldn’t’ve left the light on, he realizes. It’s at the top that he realizes why he didn’t see Darius.

The man is lying in a heap on the floor. And he jogs the last few steps to get to the room.

“Darius,” he calls out. There’s no clear sign of injury but he is pale and doesn’t respond to Liam’s call. “Come on, wake up, Darius.” He shakes the man gently. Liam repeats this a couple more times until Darius starts to move on his own, slowly. His eyes open, only to shut them quickly, throwing a hand clumsily over his eyes and groan. Liam turns off the lights.

“Hey, Darius. What happened?” Liam keeps his voice quiet.

“Li’m? Wh’re?”

Liam’s stomach drops at the confusion. Had Darius hit his head?

“Li’m?” There’s a panicked edge to Darius’ voice. “’arris, ‘le’se st’p.” Darius swallows harshly. “Don’ kno’ an’th’ng. ‘ell ‘em, ‘arris. ‘le’se.”

Liam is confused. “Darius, it’s me, Liam. Harris isn’t here.”

“Li’m? Don’… don’ l’t them take you.”

“Darius, no one’s here. It’s just us. We’re in the AI room. Don’t you remember? You’ve been working all day.”

“Wha?”

Liam checks him for a fever, finding him more clammy than hot. He doesn’t see any signs Darius hit his head and after carefully feeling around Darius’ head, he can’t find any bumps. Darius in the meantime has quieted down but doesn’t seem to be any more coherent. Without another thought, Liam pulls out his phone and dials a familiar number.

“Liam?” His mom’s voice is groggy, but she picks up on the third ring. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Liam blurts out.

“What happened?” He can see her sit up right away, alert at his tone.

“It’s not me. I’m fine. It’s my friend. I found him unconscious. He’s awake now, but he’s not really coherent. Keeps slurring and doesn’t know where he is.”

“It sounds like you should call an ambulance.”

“I can’t. He won’t like it. He’s really private.”

“His health is more important. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

“You don’t know Darius Tanz,” Liams retorts absently.

“Darius Tanz? The tech genius? That’s who your friend is? Liam, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s nothing big, mom. Please, though, I need your help. What should I do? It’ll take forever for an ambulance to get here anyway.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “Tell me more about his symptoms.”

“Confused, slurring his words. He has a headache.”

“Does he have a fever?”

“No. He feels more clammy, chilled maybe. I thought it might’ve been from the floor,” Liam says. “Oh, and he’s pale.”

“Any injuries?”

“None that I could see or feel. I checked his head for any cuts or bumps.”

“Has he eaten anything he’s allergic to?”

“I don’t know if he’s allergic to anything.”

“Okay. Diabetic?”

“I don’t know.”

“He seems a big mystery for being your friend.”

“It’s complicated.”

“A friendship? Complicated?”

“Like I said, you don’t know Darius Tanz. He’s nothing like on TV.”

“I’m sure,” Evalyne says doubtfully. “If you don’t know that he’s eaten something he’s allergic to, then…”

“He hasn’t eaten anything today,” Liam interrupts absently.

“Nothing?”

“Not since the other day. I tried, but he was too focused on work. Something was on his mind, I think.”

“That’s probably your problem. He hasn’t eaten anything.”

“He’s not really alert right now. How’m I supposed to get him to eat something?”

“Find some orange juice and chocolate. That’ll be easy enough to get his blood sugar back up so he can function enough to eat something more. Once he’s more alert, go with light things and work your way up to a heavier meal.”

“Okay.” Liam tries to sound confident, but he can’t imagine Darius being patient long enough to steadily work back up to eating.

“You’ll do fine, Liam. I’m going to let you go take care of him but call back if you need.”

“Okay.”

“And keep me updated. If he gets worse, then call an ambulance. He can get mad at you later. At least he’ll be alive to do so.”

“Sure.” Liam thanks his mom and hangs up. He runs down to the breakroom to grab some orange juice, water, and chocolate. When he gets back to Darius, the man is mumbling again but doesn’t seem any worse.

“Hey, Darius.” He tries getting the man’s attention. “You need to eat something.”

“Nuh. ‘ave to prot’ct Grace. Don’ ‘ell ‘em Li’m. Love ‘er, Li’m.”

“I know, Darius. She’s safe. She’s down in the bunker with Harris and Jillian. You need to eat something, though.” When Darius refuses again, Liam moves until he’s sitting cross-legged behind Darius’ head, back against the wall. He then pulls Darius towards until his head rests in his lap.

“Li’m?” Darius protests the move.

“Quiet, Darius. I have a small piece of chocolate here,” Liam says, breaking off a piece of chocolate half the size of a dime. It’s small enough, he hopes Darius won’t choke on it. “Open your mouth so you can eat this, okay?”

“Pois’n, Li’m?”

“No, it’s from the breakroom.” Liam tries not to sigh, wondering what is going on in Darius’ mind. “Come on, Darius. Please just eat this. I promise it’s safe. It’ll help you feel better. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Al’ays.” Darius takes the piece of chocolate, eating it slowly. “Loy’l, like a saint be’na’d.”

“Not sure I appreciate that analogy, but okay. Have another piece, Darius.” Liam patiently feeds Darius pieces of chocolate, coaxing him into eating more when he starts to wander. He doesn’t know how long it takes before he starts to see real coherency in Darius’ eyes, but he can’t help the smile when he hears Darius speak.

“Liam, what am I doing in your lap?” Darius’ voice is scratchy and weaker than normal, but it’s coherent.

“You passed out from low blood sugar. Are you feeling better?”

“Some.”

“You want to sit up?”

“Um… yeah.” Darius tries to get his arms under him to sit up, but he’s still feeling weak, so Liam helps him, positioning him so that he’s leaning against the wall, knees pulled up. The movement is enough to make Darius go paler and clamp his eyes shut. As soon as he’s settled, he leans forward to rest his head on his folded arms against his knees. Liam grabs the water and juice and sits next to him.

“How bad,” Liam asks quietly.

“Spinning. Sick.”

“Going to throw up?”

Darius swallows heavily. “No.” It’s several minutes later until Liam sees the tension in Darius’ shoulders ease.

“You should drink this juice too,” he says, twisting the top off and holding it out for the man.

“I should?”

“Yeah. Slowly though. It should help with the dizziness and nausea.”

Darius looks up wearily, nods slightly, and takes the juice. He sips it as he leans his head back on the wall.

“How’d you know to do this,” Darius asks after several moments of silence.

“I called my mom. She’s a nurse.”

“I know.”

“Of course.” Liam tries not to sound irritated.

“Thanks, Liam. And please tell your mother I said thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Liam types out a quick text to his mom to let her know how Darius is doing.

“Everything okay,” Darius asks tiredly.

“Just letting my mom know how you’re doing. She was worried.”

“Oh.”

“You feeling better?”

“Yes.” Darius pauses. “Though I suppose that’s not saying much.”

“Do you remember any of it?”

“Snatches mostly. Didn’t feel like I was here.”

“You weren’t entirely. I…,” Liam pauses, thinking. “I was worried.”

“I didn’t mean for it.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Liam looks at Darius, determined to not let the man off the hook.

“I get distracted, caught up in work. I didn’t realize what time it was. Ask Harris, it happens often. He used to set timers to remind me to take a break when he wasn’t around.”

“I know distracted, Darius. I’ve seen you too busy with work and you still manage to find time for a break, if nothing else because you can’t ignore your stomach any longer.”

“What do you want me to say, Liam?” Darius sighs.

“I don’t know, Darius. What was going on today? Yesterday?”

Darius is quiet for long enough that Liam thinks he’s not going to answer. Then…

“I miss her, Liam,” Darius says quietly. “More than I’ve missed anyone other than my mother. And I don’t like it.”

“Wait, why?”

“She deserves more, Liam. She deserves someone like Harris. He can offer her so much more than I can. What kind of future would she have with me?”

“Oh.” Liam feels at a loss for words.

Darius doesn’t say anything more, merely nodding.

“But she knows and she loves you still, doesn’t she?”

“She had moments to think about it. I doubt she’s really considered everything.”

“Don’t sell Grace short. She’s quick and fierce. I’m sure she’s thought about it and anyway, shouldn’t it be up to her to decide if she wants to be with you? She should have some say. Don’t you think that maybe love can conquer all?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have much proof of that being the case.”

Liam pauses, thinking about the few relationships that he knew of Darius’ and realizes that Darius probably never has seen love carry through any number of hardships.

“Look, you’re both clearly in love. I saw that on day one, no matter how much you’ve tried to tell yourself it wasn’t allowed.” Darius gives Liam a glare, lightened only by the lingering illness. “There’s nothing you can do about it for another two weeks, so just let it go. Let it be there and when the bunker’s open you two can talk and sort things out.”

Darius seems to be thinking about it.

“And consider this too, when she comes out of that bunker, how do you think she’s going to feel when she finds out you’ve worked yourself sick over this?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Harris told me about her angry side. I don’t think I want to have her mad at me.”

“So, you’ll take better care of yourself? Eat regular meals, take breaks?”

“Yes, Liam.”

“Good. Then finish up that juice and we’ll head to the Treehouse. You have some eating to make up for.”

“I’m not going to eat a day’s worth of food in a morning, Liam. I’ll be sick again.”

“You’re not going to. Mom said light meals building up to a heavier meal. But it’s pretty much bed rest for you for the day.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“You may be a superhuman to the public, but you’re very much human, I’m afraid.”

“I know,” Darius says quietly.

“I’m not sure that you always do. Drink the rest of the juice and then we’ll make our way back slowly, okay?”

“Can you check to make sure that everything’s saved,” Darius asks taking a sip of the juice. There’s not much left, but he’s still wanting to be careful.

“Sure.” While Liam takes care of the computer, Darius finishes the drink and tosses the bottle in recycling. “All done,” Liam asks.

“Yep. Let’s go to the Treehouse.” When Darius moves to stand, limbs shaking a little from the ordeal of the past few hours, Liam steps in without thought to help and Darius says nothing, letting the younger man help him. Liam doesn’t take all of his weight, but he does lend a steadying hand as they walk out of the room and down the stairs.

As they walk slowly to the Treehouse, Darius realizes that he trusts Liam as much, if not more, than he does Harris. Liam is more than an employee, a scientist to groom to help him run Tanz Industries. He’s a friend. Darius can count on one hand the number of people he trusts who would’ve taken the time to get him feeling better like Liam did this morning, especially after how he treated him yesterday.

He smiles, thinking about the young man who’d darted onto the elevator and blurted out that the world was coming to an end. The guts it took. That was the moment Darius knew he was giving Liam a job. But last night showed him Liam cared.

“What’s so funny,” Liam asks.

“Nothing, Liam. Just remembering something.”

“Oh. Well, you must be feeling better then.”

“I am, Liam. Thanks to you, I’m feeling much better.”

#cbs salvation #darius tanz #Liam Cole #evelyn cole #fan fiction #darius' and liam's thirty days #h/c #whump

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