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vannybarber · 3 years

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Rude Boy

Summary: You're practicing a dance routine at Chris' house and you can't get a move down, so he helps you out ;)

Chris Evans x Famous¡BlackReader

(Imagine you're on Beyonce's level of fame. You can sing, rap, dance, act. All that 🥰.)

Warnings: SMUT, cursing, spanking, tiny fluff.

Words: 2.8k

S/N = Stage Name

"Chris pleaseeee" you say, literally on your knees in front of him.

"I don't know if I'm qualified for that. I mean you're S/N." He rubs his face and sighs. You hate when he talks down on himself like that.

You were currently in his living room, begging for him to critic your choreography for your upcoming performance this Sunday night at the Teen Choice Awards. Its nothing different from what you've done before, but you like the feedback. Chris was nominated for 2 awards and also is attending with Scott.

"Stop acting like I'm better than you. Can you please do this for me? Please boo?" You beg him once more, using the nickname you developed for him over the time you worked together.

You met him in the beginning of both you guys' career when you both got casted for Not Another Teen Movie. Then worked together again in Infinity War after the Russo brothers discovered your years old string of tweets begging to be in a Marvel film. You both vowed to never lose touch again after that.

He smiled to himself at the nickname and finally agreed. You clasped your hands together, squealing like a 2 year old. You get off your knees, grimacing at the slight pain on the pads. Grabbing your phone and speaker out your bag, you run to one of his large spaced rooms in his house and hook up your Bluetooth.

You were ready, but hearing his feet shuffling behind you, it was evident he had no intention of speeding up. So you run to him and grab his thick arm and pull him the rest of the way.

"Alright alright I'm comin' " he chuckled at your excitement. He picks up his pace so you don't pull his shoulder out his socket. Finally making it back to the room, you grab a chair for him and make him sit in it.

He sits, getting comfortable and you quickly walk over to your phone and start the music.

Tonight I'ma give it to you harder

Tonight I'ma turn your body out

Relax lemme do it how I wanna

If you got it, I need it and I'ma put it down

You start the dance, lipsyncing the lyrics. You already have great breath control, so you don't have to worry about messing up your vocals.

Buckle up, I'ma give it to you stronger

Hands up we gon' go a lil longer

Tonight I'ma get a lil crazy, get a lil crazy baby

You swirl your ass up in the air, in doggy style position. You look up at Chris and see him looking at your butt. You just smirk and keep going.

Going into your last verse, the nastiest one, the one move you've been struggling with is coming up.

I like when you tell me kiss you there

I like when you tell me move it there

So get it up, time to get it up

You say you want rude, boy, show me whatchu got now

Come here right now

You catch his eyes and wink. He winks back playfully. You guys had flirty exchanges, but they were all joke based. One of the great parts of you guys' relationship.

You lie on your back and prepare to do the move.

Come here rude boy boy can you get it up?

Come here rude boy boy is you big enough?

You attempt the move and mess up for the 50thousandth time. Sitting up on your knees, you bring your hands to your face and groan. Frustrated, you rise and bring the music back to the last verse.

Chris gets up and walks to your side, wrapping his huge bicep around your shoulder. "Hey what's wrong, bean?" He dips his head down to look at your scrunched up face. Like he ain't just watch you fuck up the move.

"I can't get the move right. It's the one part I'm struggling with." You stomp your foot on the brown hardwood floor and fold your arms.

"Well how about you just change it to something you already know" he suggests, but you're not hearing it.

This move is perfect for the song. The move is like you're riding an invisible dick. You have to roll your hips twice and jump back up on your feet, ass in the air, right away. But your rolls are so mechanical and stiff. And you need to do it so you can go into the next move right after.

After you explain this to him, you sit down feeling defeated. He comes over and crouches infront of you, hands on your thighs. You stomach twirls a little. You haven't gotten any in like 2 years, so simple touches you riled up. It's honestly sad.

He scans you from your legs, stops at your lips and up to your eyes. You narrow them at him and wiggle your eyebrows smiling, lowkey wondering why he's checking you out. He smirks and speaks.

"How about I help you with the move?" So many thoughts and images of him riding an imaginary dick on the floor evade your mind and has you giggling like an idiot.

"You gonna get on the floor with me?" You question half jokingly and half serious.

"I have a better idea." Confused, you watch him rub his big hands up your slightly bigger thighs. He reaches your hips and squeezes them, making you squeal because you're ticklish. He stands up and bends down to your level and looks you in your eyes.

"I want you to ride me, Y/N." Your body moving faster than your brain, you get up and walk to the window and stare at it. Hands against the glass you just watch the trees blow in the wind, wide eyed. You hear him laugh behind you and you turn around.

"Chris what do you mean 'ride you'?" You asked the dumb question, knowing exactly what he meant, but you needed to hear it from him. You needed to know exactly what you just heard.

"Honey, you know exactly what I mean. Can we just be honest here? We both are sexually attracted to each other, but push it aside for our friendship" he counters, walking up to you, rubbing your sides again. "Might as well admit it."

You were definitely attracted to him, but him attracted to you? Like that? The flirty jokes you guys shared with each other and the playful touches didn't really mean anything though. Right?

You didn't have time to think about that as you come back to reality and hear him calling your name.

"Y/N? Y/N, you there? You alright?" He grabs your face and checks your eyes. You slap his hand away and look at him. He's so annoying, but so beautiful. Its not fair.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this. I don't want to pressure you into sleeping with me. You're my friend." He backs up and shakes his head. "I'm sorry bean."

You heart pangs a little at his words. You actually wanted to do this. I mean as long as it didn't ruin your friendship, you were cool with it. You grab him back to you and tell him.

"Chris, you're not pressuring me into anything. I want to do it. You're helping me out and plus I trust you with my body. I know you'll respect me." You smile at him and he does the exact same.

"Are you sure because-"

"You have to thumb promise me that this won't mess up our friendship" you cut him off. "I really value that with you." You hold out your thumb, waiting for him to touch it with his. He smiles widely at you, connecting his thumb to yours and kissing his thumb nail, you doing the same.

Everything happened so fast. One minute you're making out straddling his lap and next he's picking you up and heading towards his room. And now here you are, on top of his splayed body on his bed. His tongue is still dancing with yours and his hands grip the hell out of your ass.

You both pull away after sucking out 75% of each other's carbon dioxide.

" Y/N, is this your first time riding?" He looks at you for your answer and you sheepishly nod your head, covering your face out of embarrassment. In your only two relationships, you did the same old things. Missionary and all that. You never really had control or lead so you were nothing less of inexperienced.

He softy pulls your hands from your face and chuckles. "Don't be ashamed, baby. I'm gonna help you okay? It'll be good for the both of us." Giving his famous wink, he adjusts his body a little higher.

"First, let's get these clothes off of you. Is that okay?" You nod eagerly and your heart warms up with how respectful he's being. Consent is so sexy.

He pulls your black t-shirt above your head and tosses it behind you. Observing your beddable torso he slides his hands up your ribcage, around your back and to your bra clip.

"Let's get this off, yeah?" Another eager nod. The entire time, you're just smiling. Because for one, he's being so patient with you and two, you're excited as hell. It's been a long ass time.

After your bra comes off, his hands shoot straight up to massage your boobs. They actually fill his hands and he's most definitely enjoying it. You laugh outloud and lower yourself down so he can slip one on his mouth. He quickly latched on twirled his tongue around the nipple and switches over to the other, doing the same. You throw your head back and grind on his crotch area.

He sees this and teases you about it.

"Is someone ready for their lesson?"

You whine out your words.

"Yesss." He halts his grip on your boobs and looks at you. "Yes what?" You pause and register what he's asking you. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for your answer. You bite your lip.

"Yes Daddy." He pulls your head down by your neck and kisses you sweetly. "Good girl", he smiles at you proudly. Him praising you only made your panties even more soaked. You shift your body around, removing your tights. Throwing them to the side, you lean down and kiss him again. Only this time, you were the one removing the clothes.

After getting his shirt off and reconnecting your lips, your hands run over his chest and he moans in your mouth. You grin against his lips and reach for his belt. Pulling away, you earn a whine from him too.

Someone's eager, you think smirking to yourself.

Undoing that red belt he literally was in love with and removing his pants, his boner was on full display and you were not disappointed. According to your calculations, based off your sight, he was at least 7 maybe 8 inches. His shaft was visibly thicc and wide. You were in for a treat.

He watches you gawk at his coCk and thrusts up into your hand, making you squeal. He could literally feel the excitement radiate from your body. But he was way more excited than you could imagine.

"You like what you see, pretty girl?" You look back up at him and stick your tongue out like a child. You truly could not stand this adorable puppy man child. His hand rests on the side of your face and his thumb grazes over your cheekbone.

"Take it out for me, baby girl." All these nicknames he was giving you did not help your horny predicament. You reach inside his Calvin Klein's and feel for him. Grabbing his humongous length, you pull it out and pull the boxers down and off his legs.

Absentmindedly, you stroke him, dragging your thumb over the head and collecting the bits of precum sitting. He groans lowly, bucking his hips up into your closed hand.

"Now you're just gonna get up and sink on it slowly, okay? Stop for a second if it hurts" he coaches you. Following his orders, you move up so your core is right on his tip. Slowly you sink on him.

The slight pain does not go unnoticed as he stretches you out. Ignoring it, you push down a little more.

"That's it, sweet girl. You're doing so good for me. So good." He rubs your hips encouragingly, relieving some of the pain. When you finally get him completely inside, you look at your bodies connected, shocked you even got him in so easily.

"When you're ready, just move back and forth. If it gets too much, let me know and I'll help you. Okay, pretty girl?" You let out a soft 'yes', clenching around him. After most of the pain subsides, you move on him. His heaving breathing doesn't slip past you and neither does your tiny whimpers.

"There you go baby. You're learning so fast. Just keep moving, just like that." He throws his head back gritting his teeth. The pleasure is coming in fast and you moan out his name. Hands on his chest, your hips roll against his, cock sliding in and out of you. His hands on under your butt help you move swiftly.

You speed up at his praises and a swat lands on your bottom, leaving a tingling feeling. As if you weren't already fired up, that did it for you. Your pace increases and your skin slaps against his, echoing in the bare room. A yell leaves your mouth as reoccurring ecstacy shoots through your body everytime you slide back down on him.

Chris tries to grip onto you but his hands keep slipping.

"Fuck, Y/N! You're doing so perfect. Ride me just like that. You're such a good girl"

He starts to meet your rhythm, rutting up into you. Now you're screaming and the slaps get louder, his hands coming in contact with your ass more frequent. You feel the coil in your abdomen and you aren't short of letting him know.

"Daddy I'm- Fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" You balance yourself with your hands on the sides of his head and give it your all one last time.

"Let go baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock, sweet girl." You didn't need to be told twice. Your eyes twisted shut and your pussy gripping around him, you cum all over his length. He thrusts a couple more times and shoots his load inside you, filling you up. Both your bodies go limp against each other.

"That was so fucking amazing" you force out, in between breathes. You raise your head to look at his fucked out state. Pride rises in your chest, knowing you did this to him. He looks down at you, giving a dopey smile.

"You were amazing. I would've never guessed this was your first ride. Hopefully it won't be your last, with me of course." Hope is evident in his voice. You take a moment to contemplate, but you already knew your answer.

"I think we could make it happen" you say tapping your fingers on your chin and a huge grin on your face.

"Then it's settled. I think you have this move downpacked." He leans down giving you another kiss. You were in for the ride of your life.

Blinded by your excitement to perform, Sunday night came quick. You were backstage watching the program as you got ready. The movie nominations were up and Chris was nominated for Movie Actor: Sci-Fi/Fantasy and Movie Scene Stealer. Hearing his name called for both awards you freak out while your make up artists Stella tries to put on the finishing touches.

Chris honestly deserves every award he is nominated for and every one he isn't. He's so talented, but people never appreciate the actual talent around here. He doesn't win many awards so this was extremely big for him. You were so proud.

You hear Maya Rudolph present you and you get into position.

Throughout the performance you were grinning from ear to ear. Excited for the move Chris helped you perfect and reminiscing on how he helped you perfect it. The part comes up and you absolutely nail it. You look at him in the front row and see his mouth a 'good girl' at you.

When the performance is over, you take in your applause, wink at Chris and head into the back. Moments later, everyone is in the back congratulating you. Chris comes up beside you and smiles.

"You did such a good job, bean." He kisses the side of your forehead. Your bestfriend comes up and asks you how you got the move down. You look up at Chris.

"Well I had a very good teacher. He taught me very well."

Glances did not fail to be thrown across the room and your bestfriend did not fail to bombard you and Chris with questions on the ride home.

Hmmm I actually liked this one 😎

masterlist

#cevans #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #avengers #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #captain america #smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #chris evans fic #i'm screaming #i'm a hoe

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antigoneidk · 3 years

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can't help falling in love|t.h.

summary: when words can't speak enough, songs will do

pairing: tom holland × reader

words: 2k

a/n: well I think we all fell in love with this Tom right? I mean who wouldn't??? Wish more of that content cause I'm a sucker for him..

"Over yours tonight?"

"Yes. Bring your guitar too."

"We're about to have fun tonight."

"As we always do!"

And when it was just the two of you, you always had a great time. The chemistry that had been developed between you and Tom was indescribable and everyone seemed jealous of what you have created. It was amazing how much two people can connect, two different souls in such a little period.

You loved your little secret "rendezvous" as you liked to call them. He'd come to your place, or you'd go to his, sip wine and talk for hours and hours about everything. From how the world was created, to how your nail broke, or the way some theories of very famous scientists may be wrong, or how his brothers crashed his car without him knowing, even analyze the way social media work, or begging him to show you videos of the set for his upcoming film. Maybe you'd complain about how early you have to wake up the next day and he'd make fun of you before he realizes that he's going to wake up as early as you. And you'd beg him to stay, or the opposite.

And after that, you'd grab your guitars and play until you fall asleep on the couch.

He looked so handsome concentrated on not losing any chord, not ruin the melody. His brown eyes focusing on the strings, his fingers following the sound in his mind, his body relaxed, and his ears longing for your voice.

How he adored listening to your angelic voice. He couldn't explain the way his heart melted with the sweet sound of yours, his stomach filling with butterflies, his mind following the heart on this chaotic, exciting, endless road. He didn't know if he was in love or not. It was confusing inside his head. He never knew what falling in love means, the symptoms are different from one person to another. But he was only looking forward to the time he'd have to spend with you, the feeling of enthusiasm getting stronger as the day went by. He knew that you were the only one that could bring the peace he searched for, it was you that brought those feelings that he wanted to see for himself. He admitted once that he wished you'd be more than just his close friend to himself. Yet, the fear of losing you was massive and your presence in his life was more important than his feelings. So the only way was to push them to the side.

You knocked on his doorbell and fixed your guitar on your shoulder while waiting for the door to open. You looked down at your shoes noticing how dirty they got but as you were about to somehow clean them with your hand, you heard the door open and your eyes met his.

"Hi," you said cheerfully leaving the guitar to your side and wrapping your hands around his shoulder. His familiar scent came to your nose, your eyes closing for a moment enjoying his smell, but also the sensation of his arms tightening around your waist.

"Hey, beautiful" he mumbled softly and let go of you. "How are you?" he asked grabbing your guitar and closing the door behind you.

"Now that I am here I'm so much better" you confessed. "Oh, you didn't wait for me to help" you complained seeing that everything was already prepared for you.

"Why would I need help?" he asked.

"Because...I am your friend and you don't have to do all of these for me"

"But what happens if I want to do all of these for you?"

You stared back at him without any answer to his question. You tried to read his face, understand if he was joking or not. If he was playing with your feelings or if he was just completely clueless. His puppy eyes nearly convincing your heart that everything was true, your mind shouting to not believe this. It was a battle happening right in front of you, however, you stood still and did nothing.

"I'm pretty sure you do not so stop saying things you don't mean and let's go drink"

____________________

"But she fell in love with him Tom. She was happier than ever. She was willing to be there for him for the rest of her life, she stood by his side through everything, his madness, his anger, his sadness, his happiness-"

"He was suffering y/n-"

"If he loved her enough-"

"Do you know how is it feel to be stuck on a chair and not move even a single finger? No matter how big your love is for someone, sometimes you're losing the fight" Tom sipped his last drop of wine and looked back at you.

"If we were in this position, would you die just like him? Even if you loved me more than anything?" you questioned.

"I seriously have no idea y/n"

"I'd live for you Tom" normally you wouldn't admit this, the wine gave you the courage though to do so. "If I was William in that stupid chair, I would want to live with you for the rest of eternity" you glanced at him meaning every word you just said. Your love for him was like no other and for sure knew that you were more than willing to move every mountain to be with him forever.

"Stop saying things you don't mean y/n" he copied your words and grabbed your guitar from the floor, unsure if he should play it cool or say something more.

"You are not romantic babe" you played it off resting your hand on the couch and placing your head at the top of it while waiting for Tom to tune the guitar. "Also I was thinking of something today while I was working"

"You were thinking again?" he asked sarcastically.

"You piece of...give me that" you laughed and took the guitar in your hands."So, as I was saying, I was thinking that maybe today you should sing with me"

"Are you drunk?" Tom asked you disagreeing already with the idea you had in mind.

"What?"

"You know that I can't sing and even if it wasn't for that I would never sing with you"

"Why?" it felt kinda offending hearing those words as you didn't know why he felt that way.

"You have the voice of an angel y/n. I'm never gonna sing with you 'cause you'll hear how bad I sound and we don't want this trust me" he pulled his guitar close to him and smiled in your direction.

"I heard you singing before and you sound incredible so cut the excuses and follow me okay?" you didn't wait for any of his complaints. You started playing the song you imagined singing with him all day. The first reason being the fact that it was an easy song to play and sing. The second reason was the lyrics of it.

"Wise men say

Only fools rush in.." you began singing.

"Come on Tom..but I can't help falling in love with you" you continued hearing only whispers.

"Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin... I can't hear you

If I can't help falling in love with you"

Tom gained some courage and started singing louder. He didn't want to be unable to hear you, it was the thing his heart desired. But your expression, your eyes wide open begging him to join you. He could resist to them ever.

And the lyrics.

"Like a river flows

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be.."

You both stared at each other as you kept going. It felt more than just a song, more than just a famous melody. Those were words that none of you had the strength to say, not even dared to try. The fear of loss, the shyness of the last minute. You were saying to yourself that his teasing was just for fun, nothing more. Tom was doing the same. It wasn't complicated at all, but both your minds trapped in this maze, wouldn't detect the way out that was right in front of your eyes.

"Take my hand,

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you..

For I can't help falling in love with you"

You bit your lip and positioned the guitar to your legs keeping eye contact with him. The silence in the room was comforting, calming. It definitely could say more than words.

Fuck it.

"I wish I could kiss you right now" Tom whispered under his breath, loud enough for you to listen. It was shocking. You blinked quite a few times doubtfully, assured that this was only a prank. But he was there looking at you, waiting for a reply. You were confused and he saw it too. His palms started sweating and his heartbeat increased in the blink of an eye. The voice inside him would stop yelling 'you screwed it' and his feeling got hurt quickly. He was ready to listen to you making fun of him, the plan that would break his heart in two. But your silence was currently the only thing he didn't want to. He searched for any signal on your face, even your body language but you were standing still as time had stopped.

"Then do it"

He didn't hesitate for long. He was dreaming after all. Because this wasn't the reality he lived for sure.

Fireworks, fireworks, fireworks.

He swore he heard them. The moment his lips captured yours he could hear those fireworks in his heart and ears. Bells were ringing and angels singing. Damn, I'm kissing one of them he thought. His right hand touched your neck deepening the kiss he was yearning for. Your lips in sync warm against his skin. His tongue over yours exploring your taste. Your perfume fueling his nose and brain, the butterflies dancing in their music now.

It was magical. The goosebumps all over your skin making it even more real. Heart about to explode, all of the happiness hitting throughout your body. It was happening and still, it seemed like a fantasy. You slowly touched his chest and moved upwards to his shoulders making sure that you were really touching him and not any of your pillows. The sensation of his lips in yours was so much better than your imagination. Perfectly made for kissing you and only you.

You broke the kiss and the brightest smile he ever saw was on your lips. The lips HE was kissing.

"Y/n you have no idea how bad I wanted this to happen" he touched your forehead and with his thumb started to draw small circles. A tear rolled from your eye and dropped to his hand.

"Why did it take you so long?" you asked and closed your eyes feeling his breath hitting the skin of your face and hands.

"Baby don't cry. Please" he murmured.

"I'm just happy you know. It's no longer a fantasy or a dream. It's real" you admitted with your shaky breaths making your work hard. But you couldn't care less at that moment.

"I was afraid of losing you y/n. What if you didn't feel the same way? How was I supposed to know?"

"You wouldn't lose me okay? I'm feeling the same way Tom" you carefully brought your fingers at the top of his lips and touched them as you dreamed to. "I'm yours. I'll always be yours."

**the movie mentioned was me before you

**the song they were singing was can't help falling in love by Elvis Presley

Thank you for reading❤

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland x #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tomhollandxy/n #tomholllandsoft #tom holland guitar

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cherry-gemz · 3 years

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The City by the Bay: Part V

Summary: Fates push you and a handsome and known stranger into each other's paths. His chilvary and good looks make you take a leap into his world and more.

Chapter: The woman in Keanu's house is revealed; you and Keanu go out on an official date to his book signing.

Catch up HERE

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Y/N (F!Reader)

Rating: Mature, 18+

Word count: 2.5k

Who might be interested: @whiskeyslullabye @marissat1998 @aestheticallywinchester @fookingbetch @keanureevesisbae @romereadingshop @a-little-counter-esperanto

“I’m Mnfhdphf,” you mumble with your mouth full.

"What?" She asks again, annoyed.

"She's Y/N, Meredith," Keanu replies as he walks in, pulling a shirt over his head.

"I'm Y/N," you finally respond clearly.

"Yeah, got that," she chides.

Keanu walks over to you and grabs a piece of cheese, popping it in his mouth.

"Y/N, this is Meredith...my agent. Meredith, Y/N...Y/N is my guest."

"Oooh, your agent. N-nice to meet you," you reply and hold out your hand.

She gives you a curtly smile, but you know it's ingenuine.

"What the hell, Keanu?" She directs her annoyance to him.

As if he already knows what she's thinking, he raised his hand into submission.

"Look, it was a small accident. No one got hurt."

She tuts at him and tosses the manilla envelope on the marble slab counter.

"What's this?" He asks innocently and takes the document.

"A role...they're filming here in the city. Figured you'd be interested since your project has kept you here."

You tug at the hem of his shirt and cough, "I'll leave you to it...just gonna go get dressed."

"That would be best," Meredith snaps.

"Play nice," Keanu says unphased and reviews the script. "Huh…"

You hear him discuss a few things with her as you scamper to the living room to grab you jeans.

"What?"

He scratches the back of his neck and cranes it to the side, "I dunno, Mer. It's um…"

"It's what?"

"Dancing?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I dunno how to dance. I haven't done something like this," he shakes his head and tosses the script haphazardly on the counter.

You jump into your jeans and quickly button the button.

"Did you say dancing?" You ask across the living room.

Meredith crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, this role requires me to waltz."

"There's this dance studio on Van Ness. We passed it coming here…" you quickly reply, thinking that the last time you were there was with your ex.

"Let me guess, you're a dancer," Meredith retorts.

"No...I work at a bookstore...I mean that's not all I do…"

"She's a chef, Mer. Lay off," Keanu replies.

"Oh fantastic. You almost kill yourself while riding in the rain with a bookstore girl?"

Keanu's hand motioned her to stop, "If this is about the accident, it was my fault. Don't out blame on Y/N."

"You can't just go gallivanting around the city! Or you at least call me to tell me you're okay! I had to call a million people, plus the studio, and lie until I saw you. You didn't answer your phone!"

"I'm sorry…" you pipe up. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand...if you want me to leave-"

"YES."

"No," Keanu said cooly.

Meredith shot Keanu a death glare, but he shrugged it off and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

"Keanu…" she started to say as he shook his head.

"You got what you came for, Mer. You saw me, I'm fine. I'll take a look at the script and let you know. I'll call you in the morning."

"But-"

"Now, Mer I know you're coming from a good place, but you've been rude to my guest. So please see yourself at the door and we'll talk later."

Meredith's mouth stayed open like a cod fish and shot daggers over your way.

"Fine. Let me know first thing in the morning. Otherwise who knows, Hugh Jackman might swoop in on this. And don't forget, you have the signing party tomorrow night."

"Yeah, okay, Mer. Thanks."

She pivoted on her heel and headed to the foyer and out the door.

You plopped on the leather couch, stunned at their interaction.

"Gosh…" you were able to say. "I didn't think that would happen to me today."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Meredith means well. She's tough as nails and has been my agent for years. I get why she was upset, but she had no right to talk to you that way."

He picked up the folder and walked over to the couch to sit next to you.

"It's okay...I mean, I don't know her from Adam. But definitely don't want to be on her bad side again."

"Heh, yeah. Me either."

You gulp as he sits comfortably next to you. Is this what it's like? Being normal next to the global superstar? Just be cool, Y/N.

"So, do you have any plans tomorrow?"

Your voice cracks, "What?"

"I had a fantastic time with you...I hope there will be more…" he smacks his forehead and blushes, "Gosh. I didn't mean it like that."

You stifle a giggle. I hope there will be more moments like that in the bedroom.

"What I mean to say is, I'd like you to be my date tomorrow at this signing thing...that is if you'd like to come?'

***

The next day you're on cloud nine. You've chatted to your brother about meeting the famous actor and he hadn't stopped asking you how he was and is he as cool as he seems. It's as if he wanted to go out on a date with him instead.

“Ask him for an autograph,” he asks.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, CJ,” you roll your eyes as you pace your bedroom.

“What? Not for you, for me!”

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, I have my Matrix poster that I can give you-“

“I’m going? Ceej.”

“No, wait. Ask him more about Cyberpunk...like can he-“

“Bye, dude!” You reply and end the call. It was just you and your brother these days, your parents had passed on and while you loved him, he did drive you crazy from time to time. He was finishing his senior year at Sac state and being your baby brother, you’d think you were the protector. But instead he always was the one to check in on you, to make sure you were eating all your food groups and drinking water. You loved that nut despite his spaziness.

You find yourself going through your closet for an evening with the superstar. You pick up from your bed a black leather pencil skirt and hold it up to your waist. Unsure if you can pull it off and not really knowing what you'd match it with.

Your bedroom door swings open and it's your neighbor's teenage daughter, Cori.

"Oooh, what are you doing tonight?' she teased as she crunched the apple she held in her hand.

"Help yourself, Cor," you roll your eyes alluding to the fruit that she took from your counter. You toss the skirt on the bed, then pick up a pair of your comfy boyfriend jeans.

"I got some Dr. Marten's that would go great with that skirt," she says and plops down the bed, rummaging through your clothes.

"I have worn Doc Marten's before you were born," you laugh. She's a cute kid. Hella beautiful and smart. She's talked about joining the Air Force one day and you hope she gets there.

"You need to show some leg, Y/N."

"What are you doing here?" You tut and she hands you the pretty floral silk mini dress that you bought for a wedding last year and never wore again.

"It's for tonight. It'll be cold."

"Even better, he'll have to give you his jacket."

"How do you even know about these things? You're fifteen."

"Fifteen is the new twenty," she shrugs and gets up to your closet.

You stare at the dress. It's an outfit that does accentuate your legs and you've felt cute in it. Maybe Cori is right…

She returns and hands you a faux leather jacket that you bought at some boutique a few months ago.

"I dunno…"

She shoves it to your chest, "Trust me."

"I'm not sure if this is the right outfit for the event."

"What's it for then?"

"A book signing or something?"

"Ooh, he's an artist?"

"Kind of… thespian…" you blush and pull your shirt over your head and reach for the dress.

"Oh, like locally?" She crunches another bite of the apple and leans on the doorframe.

"Not exactly…"

You pull the leather jacket on and peer at your full length mirror. You look pretty good: chic and cool, not trying too hard, but an effort nonetheless.

"Black tights," she clicks her tongue and waggles her brows.

"Is that seriously in?"

"It's hot. Sheer tights and my boots, c'mon, Y/N."

"I dunno."

"Is he hot?"

You blush at the thought of Keanu and then that you're talking to a teenager about your love life.

"Oh, he is. Okay I'll be back with my boots," she replies and rushes out of the room.

"Cor! Wait!" You yell, but she's already down the hall. You look back at your reflection and bit your lip.

I can do this. What is one little night out with the man of your dreams? Nothing to be worried about.

***

Keanu insisted on picking you up despite your resistance. You told him it was fine and you could just meet up. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Which secretly you enjoyed.

The roar of his motorcycle echoed down your street and you pretended like you weren’t waiting for him for 30 minutes on your couch. Your palms were sweaty an your hair was falling flat, but the excitement was overwhelming.

The knock at your door startled you despite your ability to hear him approach your doorstep. You take one more look at yourself in the hall mirror and then open the door. He’s wearing a nice coat, a v-neck gray shirt, and jeans. Maybe you overdressed?

“Wow,” he says as you open the door. “I leveled up for sure.” You giggle as he hands you a bouquet of wildflowers. The bursts of yellow and orange are gorgeous and he can tell you’re pleased with them.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady,” he smirks. You give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you…” you reply. “Come on in, I’ll put them in water and we can head out.”

He nods in agreement as you pivot towards your kitchen, nervous that you have him in your apartment. Keanu Reeves is in your apartment. Get it together Y/N, he was between your thighs the day before. You silently chuckle to yourself as an image flashes to your brain.

“What’s so funny?” he asks as you stare at him, caught in your thirsty moment.

"Oh, uh nothing really."

He smiles and rubs his chin, as if he could read your mind.

"I'm really looking forward to this,' he replies.

"Me, too. I hope I don't get too much in the way," you reply as you place the flowers in a vase full of water.

"Of course not," he leans his elbows on your kitchen counter. He fits here, you think. "I just hope it's not too boring."

"A night out with Keanu Reeves? Anything but boring."

He grimaces and smiles again, "No pressure."

"No pressure."

He claps his hands together and rubs them in eagerness. He's hit with a quick pain and grabs his side.

"Ke...you okay?" You leave the vase on the counter and go to his aid.

He gently touches his shoulder from the fall the day with you.

"Yeah, just got a little excited, heh. Ke. I like that."

A smile is brought to your face as you realized you called him that. It wasn't like you had thought of it before, but it fit.

"Do you need me to look at it?"

He cocked his brow, "Trying to get me shirtless again, Y/N?"

"I mean...not gonna lie. That does sound like a fun time…”

“Hey, I thought it was the intent to wine and dine you.”

“Is that so?” You coo and approach him, placing your hand on his chest. His brown eyes are soulful and deep, you could get lost in them. He leans in for a kiss and you close your eyes. His lips ignite a desire within and he encloses the gap and wraps hands around your waist. You press your body against his, the thinness of your dress makes the apex of your thighs ache.

He reluctantly pulls away, "At this rate I should cancel tonight."

"You can do that?"

"Sure, just let me call Meredith and you can tell why I won't be showing," he teases and pulls out his phone. You quickly grab it from his grasp.

"No, no need for that!"

"You sure? I bet she'd love to hear from you."

You look at his screen and pull open the camera app to take a candid shot of you two. Your first photo together.

"Let's go before I get you into more trouble."

***

BRZRKR. It's a comic book. You're attending Keanu's comic book signing party. CJ is going to flip his lid.

You arrive at a nearby bookstore, smaller than the one you work at, but it's filled with memorabilia, dolls, comics, posters of all types, heroes and anti-heroes.

Keanu downplayed this to the umpth degree. Considering how small the store was, it's jam packed with fans and media.

This is a big deal. Leave it to Keanu to say it was going to be an intimate evening. An intimate evening with 100 people you think to yourself.

The two of you didn't really talk about how to address things considering you showed up together. You were a bit busy hanging onto his strong abs as he whisked you away on his motorcycle through the city. So you weren't prepared with the paparazzi and journalists buzzing your way, trying to get a shot of the mystery woman who Keanu had arrived with.

He was escorted to the back of the store, you saw Meredith and she ignored you, purposefully. As he and the head comic writer dove into a Q&A session of how the idea was brought to life, a woman around your age accidentally bumps into you.

"Oh, excuse me!" She whispers as people continue to snap photos.

"It's okay," you reply and smile.

"This is something, huh?"

"Yeah," you nod, trying to hear what he says about comic series.

"What magazine are you with?" The woman asks. She's wearing Doc Marten's and you stifle a laugh to yourself.

"Me? Oh, I'm not a journalist. I work in a bookstore."

"This one?" She asks as she folds her arms, peering over to the table. Her hair, braided, is a natural red which is ridiculously beautiful. She's like a siren, and particularly calm.

"Oh no, just on Columbus. City Lights."

"Oh neat, so then you're a comic book enthusiast?"

"Me? I mean I've dabbled in Marvel and DC. But nothing like this."

"Yeah, tickets were hard to get for sure. I had to pull a few strings just to get this pass," she says and holds up a press lanyard.

"Oh," you reply. The crowd laughs and Keanu shakes his head smiling. Dangit, I wish I knew what they were talking about.

"How'd you get yours?"

"Um, Meredith gave it to me," you reply and then realized maybe you've said too much.

"Cool," the woman says unphased. "Mischa."

"Y\N," you say and then turn your attention to Keanu. "I'm gonna try to get a closer look," you say as a segway to leave.

"Oh sure, talk to you later," Mischa replies as you snake around the crowd to hear better.

***

After almost two hours, Keanu has done some meet and greets, and other press photos. You hang out in the back and peruse the rest of the store. Meredith approaches you from behind.

"So, what did you think?" She's wearing a slick, blush power suit and she looks amazing. Her short brunette hair is styled and for a second, she actually looks approachable.

"Very educational," you smile.

"Surprised you stayed this long."

"I hadn't realized what this actually was. Ke didn't make it sound like a big deal."

"Ke?"

"Um yeah," you blush. "Just a nickname."

"Already there, huh?" She stuffs her hands in her pants pocket and you don't understand the chip she has on her shoulder.

You ignore her comment,"So should I stay around?"

"He probably wouldn't notice you gone."

You give her a side eye, the nerve.

"Who's gone?" Keanu asks as he turns the corner and is between the two of you.

"No one," you beam as he places his hand on your shoulder.

"Mer you treating my girl alright?"

She grabs a wine glass from a nearby waiter and smirks, saying nothing and then walks away.

"Like a bulldog," you say as she disappears in the crowd.

"How about we get out of here?" He says and draws himself closer to you. "You smell fantastic by the way, did I mention that yet?"

You giggle and shake your head no, "What do you have in mind?"

"Are you up to show me the City at night?"

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x y/n #the city by the bay #romance #san fransico

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croakings · 2 years

Text

complaining about nano we have now reached that stage. tears

my attention got sucked into something else and now i'm having problems focusing 😭😭😭

i'm still peripherally excited about corpse dragon, which is definitely better than it could be, but it is not,,,, at the forefront. i'm back to snail speed writing 😭😭😭

also it doesn't help that w nano in general i kind of have to run with whatever my brain will tolerate at any given moment, so a lot of scenes end up going places i don't want them to (last year's project has to be basically entirely rewritten if i ever want to do anything with it, lmao, and i was very much invested in it the whole time). and there's not a Lot i can do about it unless i want to spend five hours forcing myself to spit out anything resembling what i want to be happening (i do not). and then added to that, this is perhaps actually a story bigger than my ability to wrangle right now..... unfortunately!!!!! it is a really cool story (if i do say so myself). there is a lot going on. there's lots of layers. normally this is my favorite nonsense to dive into. it's just i'm having trouble pinning it where i want it with my brain straining like a dog on a leash to do pretty much literally anything else.

it is. a little too serious for me where i'm standing right now i think. remember how i said i wouldn't be able to do many if any office scenes? so far. we have pretty much only office scenes. i am going to have to cut like, almost 100% of them, and then probably overhaul the rest. what i'm writing right now as i'm writing it i know cannot survive the final draft (if i even get there) if i want this to be the story i have in my brain. which i do!!! i do, by the way, this isn't just me being hypercritical, this is just not at all what i wanted to be doing with Corpse Dragon. like, by nature of who i am as a person, things kind of inevitably turn a little silly in places, but. this is Not The Vibe. Fidelia and Friends is not Corpse Dragon. it's a different thing.

which is fine, also! i can always dump all this in a separate doc later and do other stuff with it. it's good practice and it is i guess helping me nail some other stuff down. it's just not what i want to be doing on pretty much any level, which is. slightly discouraging.

like, i guess i could start jumping around? but aside from what i said earlier about that, i also don't think that would go well with how scattered i'm being. there is a lot going on! i don't think i can pull all the threads i gotta use together from nowhere well enough to be confident in my ability to like..... do that here. i've already had to go back Quite A Few times to make sure of all relevant minutiae etc is consistent, and reverse engineering that even at some time in the nebulous future is like, tiring to think about.

ugh. like, also, it's fine. i'm writing. i'll hit the 50k i can feel it in my bones that this is a winning year. but i also know i won't have something i like or can even really use at the end of it, is all, which is like. unfortunate. i had high hopes this time.

but! still writing practice. still useful in its own way, and also yeah ikik art's purpose isn't to be useful. just! cmon team could we not get it together enough for this one. i really wanted this to go other ways! alas.

it's just like this sometimes, i know. and i can always fix it later (in the sense that like, i mean, it's a possibility. unlikely, for me, but cest la vie). just. just!!!! ugh. i also actually almost did And Through The Forest, so i'm glad i didn't pick that back up. i do miss that writing style but i think i would have pried my fingernails off trying to maintain it. just. would have been nice for this one too, really........

anyway! anyway. i'm just whining. a little disappointed. my peanut lizard brain is letting me down.

chalk this one up to miscellaneous practice i guess. maybe another year i'll be more up to like, actually writing

#*#chatter #nano #also i know this is a little early to call it like this but. sometimes. i can just feel it #y’know what i mean

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ellewords · 3 years

Note

i loved your most recent stuff with oikawa and akaashi!! i found it endearing how oikawa genuinely wants to make his relationship with the reader work despite the difficulties and how akaashi is attentive, sometimes to a fault

anyways i fell deeper down the rabbit hole that is going seventeen and i come bearing souvenirs >:3c i recently watched their human chess #1 and i thought it would fit the olympic team! tbh a lot of going seventeen content can fit just about all of the schools but i think i tend to go towards the national team because of the potential for all of the different dynamics and combinations

i really loved their outfits in this episode and how most were color-coordinated too! i bet the hq boys would look really nice in them too hehe

(2:12) hinata as woozi placing the idea of making sound effects into bokuto's head

(2:31, 2:44, 4:25, 5:38, 7:19) I’M CONTINUING THE BOKUTO AS DK AGENDA it just fits so well???

(3:03) wonwoo with his hair like this reminds me of kageyama so much ahhhh also kageyama trying to be cool but failing ;;w;;

(3:51) atsumu is definitely hoshi (he was really about to start doing some pushups or something LOOOL) I WANT TO SEE ARAN AS S.COUPS

(4:38) aran as s.coups, atsumu is hoshi, SUNA AS MINGHAO

(5:06) THE WAY IT CUTS TO HOSHI JUST SQUATTING THERE

(5:46) ATSUMU AND BOKUTO

(6:00) WHY DID DK MAKE THAT NOISE HELP

(7:41) jun’s little cheer!! idk which boy he’d be but for some reason i'm getting hoshiumi vibes from seungkwan

(12:32) "WOOZI YOUR FINGERS ARE SO SEXY"

the human chess #2 was also so funny seungkwan literally flying off the chess board had me WHEEZING

(0:18) bokuto as dk once again

(2:08) HOSHIUMI MAKING THIS FACE AND SAYING THAT THEY SHOULD NAIL THE BUCKET TO THE GROUND

(4:11) suna as minghao catching the pirate toy and his little smile

(6:18) HINATA OR KAGEYAMA FOR SURE THEY JUST GET TOO EXCITED/COMPETITIVE AND THEY JUST GO FLYING

(7:21) the contrast between “thank goodness he fell the right way” versus “his butt is strong” FICJDJDNSJS

(8:02) SUNA AS MINGHAO i love when fanarts depict him as being quite flexible like these ones (one, two) with him and sakusa stretching together

(10:25) something about jeonghan's blunt “pep talk” makes me think of sakusa for some reason

(12:25) SAKUSA AS JEONGHAN i don't know if he'd have flexible fingers just like how he has flexible wrists but i like to think so because then we’d be matching >:)

(13:35) mingyu as ushijima (the editing cutting him off was funny but also LET HIM SPEAK!!!!) actually now that i think about it mingyu radiated strong ushijima vibes in these episodes, like i could see ushijima in his outfit haha

(13:55) hinata about to take a bite from sakusa's arm feat. a stray bokuto—🌸💫

AAA PLEASE OMG IM GLAD YOU LIKED MY FOUR AM BRAINROT 🤧 was lowkey scared that it wasn't going to make any sense >_<

anyways, ty for feeding my hq as svt brainrot hehe thoughts under the cut <33

human chess #1

(2:12) hhhh--- that’s so cute omg Hinata making lil sound effects whenever he moves awe

(2:31, 2:44, 4:25, 5:38, 7:19) YES YES ABSOLUTELY THEY BOTH HAVE BIG GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY I LOVE THEM 7:19 IS SWEET THO I IMAGINE HINATA AS SEUNGKWAN COPYING HIM UWU

(3:03) the way you put my svt bias with my hq first love ;-; really wanna see him in wonwoo’s fit just so soft

(3:51) yes yes !! imagine the look of pure panic on Atsumu’s face when aran says “it’s me”

(4:38) suna having hao’s lil smile and giggle will be peak devastation for me

(5:06) I ACTUALLY CACKLED WHAT WAS THIS MAN DOING

(5:58) adding to the aran as s.coups agenda hehe

(6:00) I also don’t know and at this point I am afraid to find out

(7:41) yes on hoshiumi being seungkwan but hear me out -- Sakusa as jun in this moment,, like someone asks him to cheer and he just does that :<<

(12:32) hinata’s slip of the tongue and saying this to kags lmaoooo (the setters have pretty hands wbk)

human chess #2

(2:08) HOSHIUMI WITH A LIL POUT THAT’S SO CUTE

(4:11) PEAK DEVASTATION PT. TWO FOR ME

(6:18) YES AND EVERYONE JUST LOSES IT + suna or maybe atsumu as jeonghan asking the editors to edit him on a carpet

(7:21) “thank goodness he fell the right way” - ushijima versus “his butt is strong” - bokuto

(8:02) I SEE THE SUNA AS HAO AGENDA CONTINUES I HAVE NO COMPLAINTS (gives me the big uwus seeing the fan art)

(10:25) yes and dino being kageyama or something who’s just out here trying his best

(12:25) awe matching flexible wrists that’s cute

(13:35) PLEASE OMG USHI JUST SAYING SOMETHING ODDLY SENTIMENTAL OUT OF NOWEHERE AAA but yes someone put him in that outfit

(13:55) something like this has actually happened I feel it in my bones

I offer another video bec you keep sending me to brainrot : debate night with the olympians (the debate nights + the mafia ones are actually legendary and there’s a reason why they’re huge fan faves with multiple reiterations love ‘em sm)

(0:46) IWA AS WONWOO THEY REALLY DRAGGED HIM IN TO HOST HEHE >:)

(2:03) USHIJIMA AS MINGYU MAKING A SUPER DUMB JOKE AND EVERYONE JUST GOING ...

(2:08) SAKUSA WOULD BE JEONGHAN THO,,, BIG BRAIN ENERGY THE ENTIRE TIME

(3:20) HOSHIUMI AND SEUNGKWAN SIT AT THE SAME TABLE

(5:58) PLEASE IWA TELLING BO AND TSUMU TO SIT DOWN

(8:29) IMAGINING SAKUSA AND BO AS THIS JUST SENDS

(10:37) back on my Hoshiumi as seungkwan agenda and sakusa would be exactly how jeonghan is acting

(11:55) this is just so funny to me,, and dk acting as all the animals is just *chef’s kiss*

hehe ty for reading this ramble !! hope you’re doing well !! <3

#💘 — love elle!#🎐 — 🌸💫anon! <3

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koteosa · 4 years

Note

I'm sorry to hear you're having a bad brain day. Those are the worst. If it helps at all, do you have any HCs about how the Arcana LIs celebrate their birthdays once they're with your apprentices?

thank you my brain was beating me up bad today U___U spending time writing gets me really focused and helps a lot. here’s some headcanons for all my LI/Apprentice ships

Kamui x Asra

Kamui really wants to spoil the everloving fuck out of his lover(s). He doesn’t want to completely control their entire day (unless they want him to) though the urge is definitely there to plan something very elaborate. He has a lot of love in his heart and it makes him feel like he’s gotta do something Big to properly express how he feels

Gives Asra a lot of options for things they could do together and lets Asra decide, based on however he feels at the time. They could go to a spa and relax. Go on a picnic in the woods. Do something mischievous and potentially illegal. Or just stay in bed all day talking, eating food Kamui prepares for them with the Highest Quality Ingredients and care put into them, and get a little, a little, a little hands on

He wants to take care of Asra the entire day like he’s royalty. His birthday is such an excuse to get to do these sorts of things and Kamui is going to take full advantage. Brush his hair and they’ll take a bath together where Kamui washes him and does his makeup and nails and they dress up cozy and spend all day together. Kamui worries about pressuring Asra into something when he might have other plans but Asra’s plans begin and end with Kamui being there so. Kinda hard for him to be dissatisfied

Asra is the type to respond to “what do you want for your birthday” with “you”

Though Kamui doesn’t need to ask because he already knows exactly what he’s getting Asra and it probably involves something pretty Asra can wear, some good food, maybe something practical for his magic or something for Faust since it’s also her birthday too and it’s important that she doesn’t get left out. This is to say there won’t be just one gift there’s gonna be a lot of them and he’s a little embarrassed by how many things he ended up with and he’s going to blush when he presents them

But Asra does the same exact shit when it’s Kamui’s birthday. They’re both romantic idiots who are the type to be like “I saw this and thought of you and so I bought it for you” for lots and lots of things

Kamui’s not good at making things outside of like, food. So most of his gifts were bought, but for Kamui’s birthday Asra spends time making a lot of different things with every creative skill he has. Knitting him red scarves and making him little woodwork statues of cats etc.

Kamui x Julian

Something tells me Julian doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday and never drops hints about it but Kamui will find out and be like Listen You Fuck I Will Celebrate The Ever Loving Shit Out Of You. You Cannot Stop Me

Wakes him up in the morning very sweetly and makes him breakfast. He has plans because he knows Julian was just going to work all day and maybe go to the Raven that night as a treat and that is Not Acceptable

Julian probably cries at some point just a little bit because Kamui dresses up very nice and then does Julian’s makeup and hair and takes him on a walk before they sneak into that one abandoned garden from Julian’s Lovers chapter and have a picnic and Kamui pushes him down and kisses him and tells him how beautiful he is and then just starts reciting some poetry he wrote about Julian and There Are Limits He Cannot TAKE This!!! Somehow Kamui found a beautiful metaphor to describe Julian’s eyes and it’s illegal. How dare he

Lots of laughing and running around getting into trouble and Kamui tugs him into an alley every now and then to kiss him and get him all riled up

Kamui goes out of his way to be gentlemanly before Julian can do it first and Julian’s blushing like how do I cope--

Gifts include a book of poetry Kamui wrote about Julian and general gay yearning (and he’s extremely embarrassed about it because he’s not so sure any of it is any good but Julian Loves It. It’s A Masterpiece), a bunch of other books he thought Julian would like to drown out the embarrassing love poetry, some cool knives, expensive wine, magic charms he made himself (lots of stuff to protect against nightmares), and like. the sexy stuff. A ruby-adorned choker and black lingerie. Hello Julian your boyfriend has money

After getting into trouble all day, Kamui takes him stargazing and then they go to the shop where Kamui set up candles and rose petals and whatnot so they could take a fancy bubble bath and drink wine before they spend all night in bed together if you know what I

Kamui x Muriel

Had to pry his birth date out of Asra because Muriel won’t acknowledge his own birthday. He does not deserve to be celebrated. Kamui begs to differ

Muriel just knows Kamui’s birthday by default because Asra would talk about it in the past so he doesn’t have to ask. After they start dating, once November 14th rolls around he’s got a bunch of gifts prepared. Very simple, like, some stuff he carved, a nice meal, a wildflower bouquet, maybe some sort of lotion or perfume he made with Asra’s help. And Kamui cries about it because it’s just so sweet and heartfelt and AHHHH-

Kamui knows Muriel doesn’t like all the fancy stuff he does, but he still wants Muriel to feel really special. It’ll take some convincing but he’d like to take Muriel to a nice spa where he assures him it’s very quiet and they won’t be bothered. A hot spring, mud bath, that sort of thing.

They can go on a walk through the woods and forage for stuff to make a meal with, then they cook together and Kamui tries to hand feed him but Muriel is so embarrassed it doesn’t go very far. Still Kamui will sit in his lap afterwards and they’ll just bask in the peace of nature for awhile. Maybe Kamui will talk a little, quietly, and about nothing of consequence so Muriel doesn’t even need to listen to the words, he’s just lulled by the sound of his voice

Gifts! A lot of stuff for Inanna and the chickens to take the pressure off of Muriel having to receive a lot of things directly (though they all make him happy just the same). For Muriel directly, Kamui gets him stuff to make his life more comfortable; a soft teal blanket, pretty silk ties for his hair, homemade lotions/salves to make his scars hurt a bit less. Charms for protection and restful sleep.

Lots of kissing and praise throughout the day. More than usual, that is. Muriel NEEDS to know he is loved and appreciated and Kamui is very glad that he was born.

Very low energy, Kamui wants to do things to help him relax, turn his brain off, feel loose, good, loved. A very slow day without too much in it.

Sae x Nadia

“What’s that? It’s your day of birth and you have WORK scheduled? Don’t think so. I told everyone to go fuck themselves and had the chef bring us breakfast in bed. Once you’re finished I will braid your hair and use this oil I made to administer a full body massage. My very genius plan. Praise me”

They dress very comfortably because if anyone has a fucking PROBLEM then Sae will flay them alive from the inside out and Nadia considers that a wee bit of a turn-on. It’s cozy day bay bee. They drink tea out on the veranda with no shoes on (!!) and spend the entire day indulging

Sae puts on a magic show for Nadia (and no one else) at night that’s very mesmerizing and beautiful. Nadia responds by pulling Sae into her lap and kissing her dizzy and then Sae’s like “S-So did you like it then--”

Sae doesn’t exactly have plans so much as she hisses like a feral cat at anyone who tries to make Nadia do Work thus allowing Nadia to do whatever she wants, and Sae is at her disposal

Not much in the way of gifts because Sae doesn’t see the point in providing material possessions so much as providing An Experience

Sae doesn’t really Get birthdays because hers were never celebrated so it’s a learning experience for her. All she thinks is that this seems like the right time to spoil Nadia, and that’s, like, enough, right?

Whispers in Nadia’s ear that she’s wearing lingerie under her outfit but then won’t let Nadia unwrap that present until later. Probably won’t wait very long though they’ll be very busy all day if you know what I

Sae x Portia

Sae doesn’t have to do much but provide her presence. Portia knows what she wants to do, although she’d be delighted to let Sae plan a day for them once in awhile. There’s a lot of things Portia’s thought about doing but no time to do them, and her birthday is the perfect time for that. Nadia would let her take time off easy.

In this instance, Sae would arrive with like a bag of handmade chocolates or a decorated mason jar with some jam or something in it and present it to her arms out turned away blushing furiously and Portia can’t stop giggling at how cute she is. She kisses her and holds the gift lovingly against her chest, they’ll share it on the picnic they’re about to go on together!

Cozy clothes they aren’t afraid to get dirty in, laid out on a gingham blanket and talking, holding hands, feeding each other, kissing. Spoiling Pepi who comes over to hang out.

They go into the palace for hijinks. Sae follows along not knowing where they’re going or who they’re talking to or what they’re doing but Portia is so fun and she knows it’ll be good. Sae teaches her some magic along the way to make everything even more exciting, they can play some pranks where Sae teaches her a spell and Portia uses it for shenanigans

Sae can pay for them to go out into the town and eat at a nice bakery, and then she holds Portia’s hand and leads her to some stray cats she found recently. After that she can show Portia some magic stuff in the woods or maybe they can plan to travel somewhere adventurous where Sae can watch Portia swing around a huge sword maybe. They try out a bunch of fun stuff fit for a magician, stuff Sae’s pretty used to but it makes Portia’s face light up with wonder and Sae just stares at her. Heart eyes

#the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #muriel #portia devorak #nadia satrinava #the apprentice #oc apprentice #fan apprentice #oc:kamui #oc:saekamui #text #writing #Anonymous #headcanon #the arcana writing

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maandags · 4 years

Text

the watchmaker (Finn Shelby x reader) {part two}

aaaaand here’s the second part yeehaw

– – –

Summary: After your uncle died, you decided to rid yourself of your troubling past and move to Small Heath, into the flat and workshop he left you. Soon after, though, Tommy and Finn Shelby crash into your life and bring back unwanted memories.

Genre: angst, fluff (at the end. gotta go thru some pain first im afraid)

Word count: 7.9K

Notes: CW: death mention - asphyxiation - panic attacks (?) - {part one} - masterlist - bitch i wrote 17k in like a week and , if i could write like this all the time ……………….. @ the writing gods : please,

– – –

That night, you stayed in your flat, pacing the floor and hesitating, not knowing whether to go or to stay. It was already late. You didn’t know if it was still worth it to go, yet your conversation with Tommy from earlier that day had left you confused and with more questions left unanswered than before. You bit your nail, approached the window that looked out onto the filthy street.

You wrung your hands. Undecided. Undecided.

The coat on its hanger was calling your name. In the distance you thought you could hear singing, and laughing; the sounds of jovial carelessness and mirth. Hesitating, hesitating. Then you frowned at your own reflection in the cold glass. Who were you to deny yourself a bit of fun? When was the last time you’d been truly carefree? As much as you tried to convince yourself of the opposite, there were no reasons why you shouldn’t go.

But… But what? you asked the irritating little voice inside your head; but what, exactly?

And so you went.

You’d never seen the Garrison in its full glory. It was pretty, you had to admit, though you knew you would probably have preferred it during the daytime. The rooms were filled to the brim, men shouting and hollering and singing drunkenly, waving around pints of beer and crystal glasses in which sloshed amber-brown whisky. The barman was having a time of himself trying to keep up with all the orders, hands moving so fast you got dizzy just from looking at them.

A short and stocky man approached you, and you immediately noticed the sheen cast over his eyes like a film of intoxication. He brought his face close to yours and you recoiled as he frowned and tried for eye contact.

“What’s a young'un like you doin’ here all by yeself, eh?” he slurred, stumbling when a man almost twice his size clipped his shoulder. He barely seemed to notice, though, all of his attention fixated on you. “Where’s your mates?”

“Um,” you stammered, scanning the crowd over his shoulder in search for a familiar face–Tommy, Finn, fucking Polly Gray for all you cared–and growing slightly panicked when you could find none of them. “I'm–I’m looking for someone.”

“Fuck ‘em,” the man drawled, draping an arm over your shoulder and effectively pressing his body flush to yours, “come with me. Let’s have some fun, you and I, yeah?” You had to make an effort not to gag.

Someone bumped into you from behind, and you were pushed into the man’s chest. His smell overwhelmed you, pressing into your nose and your mouth and your eyes until your brain spun and dark spots started to appear in front of your eyes. You felt your knees weaken, and you were sure that they would buckle at any given moment.

Then a hand closed around your upper arm and yanked you from the drunkard’s grasp. You expected a shouting match to follow–the drunkard had seemed rather insistent on your company–but all that came from him was a whimper and a mumbled apology. You blinked the dark spots from your vision, heavily leaning on the unknown figure–though you had a suspicion regarding their identity–as they lead you through the crowd. Steadily you regained your footing and your sight, and you stole a glance at the person whose hand still tightly held onto your wrist.

“Hi,” you said, a smile creeping up your lips despite yourself.

Finn glanced down, eyebrows furrowed in a concerned frown. “You okay?”

You nodded. Finn didn’t seem satisfied, but led you to a barstool. He gestured for you to sit down, then told the poor fellow on the stool beside yours, “Fuck off,” and hopped onto his freshly acquired seat.

You shook your head at him, but the smile you tried so hard to push down was still there.

“You look pale,” Finn shouted over the noise.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Finn. I’m fine.” You were a little dizzy still, but you didn’t want to get drunk. Your thirst for alcohol had dissipated with your desire to have a fun night, and you felt sour and tired and only wanted to go home.

Finn didn’t look convinced. He waved the bartender over, and a moment later slid you a glass of water. You narrowed your eyes at him. He shrugged.

“Job’s done, eh?” he stirred his own glass.

You nodded, glaring at your water, fingering the rim of the glass listlessly. “Done. All of it.” You took a sip, just to wash down the dryness in your mouth. “Fucking hell.”

He just watched you, and you looked at him, and then you said, “Do you want to go outside? I hate it in here.” You did. You hated the stuffiness of the place, hated the smell of bodies pressed together, the stench of booze hanging in the air and laying a haze of drunkenness over the very air. You hated it.

After a moment of curious consideration, Finn said, “All right,” and cleared a path for you to get out of the busy pub.

The outside air pricked your cheeks and you drew a few grateful breaths, welcoming the sweet coolness in your lungs. You almost coughed, just to rid yourself of the sticky, syrupy air from inside the pub. You started to walk, no destination in mind, but you knew you had to move and get some feeling back inside your limbs.

“Hey, hey, hang on,” said Finn from behind you, and he jogged a couple of steps to catch up with you. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going home,” you said, though you didn’t plan on going straight home. You’d take a detour, maybe stop by your workshop and take a few pieces home; gears or pistons or anything familiar to keep your hands busy and the nerves at bay.

“But why? You walked in and walked straight back out!”

“Yeah. All this stupid trip did was remind me why I don’t go out in the first place.”

“And why’s that?”

You shoved your hands in your pockets and kept up the pace, forcing Finn to jog a step every once in a while to keep up. “Too many people. Too much drunkenness. Too much chaos. Too much… just too much.”

You rounded a corner into an alley that you knew would take you to your shop faster than the main road. It was a tricky passage to take: it was dark and muddy and a popular spot for the most unpleasant of peoples to gather; but it was faster, and by your side was Finn, so you didn’t feel as nervous as you usually would.

He was trying to understand. You could tell. He was doing his damn best to understand why this affected you so much, why the fullness of the pub meant nothing good to you. You didn’t expect him to entirely get it. He grew up with this; he grew up with the sound of gunshots ringing around his ears, the thump of adrenaline that followed it, the nights of drinking and partying and going wild.

It was different for you. It always had been different.

The village you grew up in was quiet, and the most exciting moments of your early childhood were little walks in the forest with your father, and he would point out to you the birds and the squirrels and the mushrooms and sometimes, if you were very lucky, you’d spot a deer or two in a clearing somewhere; or when there was a big market in London, and he’d hoist you up on his shoulders and let you explore all the colours and sounds and smells unfamiliar on your own, from your perch where you towered above everyone else, and exhilaration would fill you like it was injected in the very air you breathed.

And then your father was sent to France, and never came back. Arrangements were made for you to live with your uncle Henry, who lived a few towns over, and he took you in and cared for you like you were his own.

Of course, when you got a little older, there was excitement enough in the building of bombs. But the town Henry lived in was only a little bigger than your home village, and though it took a while getting properly adjusted, it had finally started to feel like home.

Birmingham was different. It was dark and huge and unforgiving and things happened in its shadows that you would rather stay as far away from as possible. Nevertheless, it was where you’d set up shop. It was where Henry had bought the damn shop, and you still didn’t really know why. Uncle Henry had been an eccentric man, but he hadn’t been stupid. You believed that if he owned a flat and a shop in Small Heath it had to be for a good reason.

Speaking of good reasons…

“One more thing,” you started, rather loudly, and Finn almost jumped at your side, “that you better have an explanation for, is this.” You rammed the key inside the lock and yanked open the door to your shop, not stopping to hold the door open for Finn but instead letting him catch it on his own.

You snatched up your toolbelt and started collecting stuff to take home. “I talked to Tommy this afternoon.” Pause. You looked around, found the copper wire you’d been looking for, stuffed it in a pouch on your belt. “And he said that he never told you to babysit me at all. That he had no idea that you even were at my shop all day.”

Finn froze, and you watched with a sort of grim satisfaction as he seemed to lose some of the carefully constructed composure he always seemed to wear around you. He had begun to look almost a part of the shop when you were still doing Tommy’s job, but now he looked as out of place as he had been the first time he’d set foot in it.

“Strange, eh?” You continued. You didn’t know why you were so sour about it all of a sudden. Maybe you felt taken advantage of. Maybe Finn had pretended to enjoy your company all along, maybe he was doing it for his own intentions. It was just the sting of knowing he’d lied to you that made the words taste bitter as you forced them from your tongue. “There’s nothing for you to gain here. Why would you come at all?”

“Small Heath can be a dangerous place,” he muttered, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes and you scoffed.

“Not to you it fucking isn’t. You’re a Shelby, Finn, and I'm–not–fucking–stupid.” You slammed a drawer shut and knotted the belt around your hips before covering it with your coat again. “Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t tell Tommy; nothing happens in this shithole without him knowing about it, right?”

“Y/N–”

“Maybe you wanted to do something for yourself for once, eh? God knows all you can do is suck Tommy Shelby’s cock and hope for a reward.”

“Y/N, stop–”

“You know what? I think I liked you better when you were pretending.”

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“Listen to me!”

You stopped dead in your tracks. It was the first time he’d raised his voice at you, and through the haze of anger still burning in your chest you were a little offended. “What?” you spat again, shoulders drawn up to your ears and muscles tense.

Finn took a breath, closed his eyes. When he spoke again, it was in a voice that trembled, and threatened to spill over with emotion any moment. He was fighting hard to stay calm. “Your uncle–”

“What the fuck does my uncle have to do with this?”

“You’ll know if you let me fucking finish!” he said, irritated.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and clamped your mouth shut, your chin lifted high and one hip jutting out to show you were absolutely not content with the situation whatsoever.

“Your uncle bought this place–and the flat–as a safehouse. Because he got in deep with the wrong people. He planned to come here once you were old enough to fend for yourself. He paid the Blinders for protection beforehand, but never made it here.”

With every word he spoke, your eyebrows crawled closer to your hairline. The information was entirely new to you, and you were having a difficult time processing all of it.

“He was murdered, Y/N.”

That hit you like a hammer to the chest and your heartbeat started racing. “No,” was all you managed.

“I’m sorry–”

“No,” you repeated, more forcefully this time, “no. No, he died in his sleep. It was a peaceful death. They said so.” You sounded like a child. You knew you did. But your entire world was tearing at the seams, and the fact that Finn–whom you had known for just over a week–knew more about your uncle, your flesh and blood, than you did, didn’t sit right with you.

“Then why didn’t they ever show you the body, Y/N?” Finn’s voice was gentle, like how he would address a toddler having a tantrum, and that made it all the worse.

“Because I never fucking asked!” you said shrilly. “No. Don’t fucking come near me.” You stuck your hands out in reflex when he took a step towards you, and though he stopped moving, hurt flashed across his face.

“Y/N. You need to understand. The people who killed your uncle want you dead as well. It’s relatively safe for you here, but Tommy’s had men watching the shop and your flat since the day you showed up. How do you think we knew about the bombs?”

“But–but–” Your knees buckled and you only just managed to yank a chair towards you.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” Finn ran a hand through his hair, and looked at you with eyes full of hurt. “Glad it’s appreciated.”

As he turned, you dropped your head in your hands and said, “Wait.” You didn’t hear the door open, so you took that as a good sign. “I'm–I’m sorry. For shouting at you.”

He sighed. “It’s alright.”

“No,” you said with a bitter laugh. “It’s not. Can you sit down?” He did, pulling up a chair beside you. You rubbed your temples, screwing your eyes shut against the bonking. “Talk. Tell me… tell me everything.”

And he did. He told you about the twin brothers whose parents Henry had helped kill by building the bomb necessary–or, well, that’s what he had led them to believe.

“In his last letter to us he explained how, while he had been the one to handle any kind of face-to-face business, you had built the actual bomb,” Finn said. “The Pinfield twins found out somehow and are now hunting you down.”

“But they never found me?”

“Oh, no, they did. But every men they sent here to do the job got caught in… an unfortunate accident.”

You scoffed. Why he would want to spare your feelings now was unfathomable to you. “You mean Thomas got them killed.”

Finn nodded. For the first time he looked uncomfortable, and you realised it had probably something to do with your remark from earlier. You winced internally; that had been a fucking glorious move on your part, hadn’t it?

“So now the Pinfields and their men are after me and probably won’t stop until I’m dead.” You breathed a long exhale, surprised at your still-dry eyes. The tears would probably come later, you figured. When all had settled in and the reality of the situation would crash into you with all the force of a fucking freight train.

“Pretty much.”

It was strange, how light you felt. You had just gotten told that a two murderous brothers were dead set on murdering you just like they’d murdered your uncle, and all you could focus on was the fact that you were still alive, weren’t you? So they probably weren’t that keen on your death.

Then you immediately scolded yourself and internally gave yourself a good shaking. Men were looking to murder you. You should be panicking, screaming, crying–at least be afraid–but you found that you weirdly… weren’t.

Sure, the nerves were there. But you had been on edge since you first moved to Small Heath. You had anticipated an attack every time you stepped out of your flat. So really all the news did to you was confirm that you had a reason to be on edge. That it wasn’t just ghosts or shadows you were seeing.

It was mostly the explanation, you thought. The fact that you knew now why everything had felt as weird as it had. Why Finn had been so insistent on staying with you day in day out while you did nothing but work at your desk. Why he had accompanied you to London for errands you had run a million times in the past. A weight had fallen off your shoulders: things were still looking pretty fucking bad for you, but at least you knew why.

So you said, “Okay,” and stood up, dusting off your coat with only-slightly trembling fingers.

When you started towards the door, Finn said, “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Something was starting to form at the back of your mind. The barest whisper of an idea, fuelled by the calm fury that was starting to bubble into existence and seep into your very bones. And honestly, you hadn’t even considered telling Finn about it. This was something you had to do on your own.

You were going home. But before that, you had a stop to make.

“I’ll walk you,” said Finn, and his voice was slightly apprehensive. Maybe he could see the unfiltered, absolute rage boiling behind your eyes.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Y/N. I’m walking you home.”

“Before I took Tommy’s job I never had anyone walk me home, Finn. I held out just fine those five months, I won’t suddenly get jumped and murdered tonight.” You tried to keep your voice relatively light, but the remark still came out sharper than you intended.

Finn made a face and touched your wrist. No particular reason; no particular intention. A simple touch, yet the feeling of his fingers on your skin made goosebumps erupt all over your arm and you felt your shoulders stiffen. Then you told yourself to pull yourself the fuck together, Y/N. Blushing like a goddamn thirteen-year-old over a boy touching your wrist. Fucking pathetic.

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. And you knew you would be.

There was still a bit of hesitation in his eyes, but also a grim sort of resignation. “Alright.”

You left him standing in front of your shop after you locked it up, his hands shoved in his pockets, watching as you marched the now-familiar streets of Small Heath.

It was late, and frankly you didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to still be at his office. Yet he was, and Lizzie–the secretary from before–only barely raised a brow at your quick return. You paid her no mind even as she made a snide comment about your appearance, and when Tommy called you in you thanked her absent-mindedly.

“Close the door, Y/N,” he said as he rummaged around for two glasses and poured a finger of whiskey into each one.

You did, and accepted the glass he offered you, even though you didn’t often drink liquor as strong as whiskey.

“You’ve returned,” remarked Tommy as he sat down and lit a cigarette.

You gave a mocking, sarcastic bow. “I have returned.”

“May I ask why?”

“Yeah. Um…” You swirled the drink, wondering how best to start. “I found out about my uncle,” you finally settled on.

“Ah.” Tommy set down his glass, leaned forward in his chair. He didn’t look awkward, per se, but there was a certain stiffness to his movements that there hadn’t been before. “Then you know why we took such an interest in you.”

“Yes. And this time, it’s me that has a proposition.”

He listened as you explained your idea–in a voice clear but trembling with anger–and smoked up three cigarettes in the time it took you to lay out the full details. He never interrupted once, let you say everything you needed to say, and you were grateful for it. If anything, this whole endeavour was to make sure you were never treated like a child again.

When you finished, he sat back in his chair and tilted his head ever so slightly as he mulled over your words. You were silent, waited for his verdict, because your plan would never work if you didn’t have Tommy’s support.

“It will be dangerous,” he finally said, but the four words made you happier than was probably reasonable. Will. Not would. Will. Affirmative.

“I know,” you replied. “That’s the point.”

He smiled then, a smile equally warm and cunning, and it was then you knew that you had him. “You’ve got balls on you, Y/N. That’s good.” He stood up and started pacing his office, and the two of you began building upon the foundation of the plan that you’d lain out before him.

“I’ll tell John to accompany you to London for the supply run. How fast do you think you can get this done?”

“In ideal conditions? Three days.”

“What are ideal conditions?”

“Me being able to work with no distractions, no need to get up from my bench at any point in time for any reason whatsoever so I can stay focused.”

Tommy pointed at you with his whiskey glass. “Lizzie will come see you twice a day with food and drink. No distractions.”

Everything was coming together. You stayed in Tommy’s office until the late hours of the night, and even after you’d gone over everything you didn’t feel tired. Adrenaline coursed through your very being, the prospect of bringing the plan to fruition much too exciting for you to feel any other emotion whatsoever.

When you were finally satisfied, and Tommy walked to the door to open it for you, you thought of one more thing and stopped in your tracks. You hesitated on the threshold, nipping at your lower lip. “One last thing.”

“Yes?”

You didn’t look him in the eye. “Finn can’t know. Keep him busy, away from my shop or my flat. I know you have people watching the streets–make sure he can’t even get close.”

His brows raised slightly. “And why should I do that?”

You glared at him and folded your hands into your coat. “Because we agreed there’d be no distractions.”

You went to London with John–jovial, rude, but fun to be around–and got everything you needed. You said hi to Harry and Jim, who looked up when you entered their shop for the second time in a week, but walked past the tea shop. No time for anything but work these coming days.

John was nice to talk to. Didn’t take himself too seriously, didn’t take anyone else too seriously. Confident in his status as both a Peaky Blinder and a Shelby, never hesitant to make use of it when the situation called for it, or even when it didn’t but he just felt like it. He was nice to hang around–but he wasn’t Finn.

It was easier to concentrate on your work with no-one around, you’d admit that, but it was a lot more boring, too. You caught yourself grinning to yourself a few times when you thought of something funny and already opening your mouth to share it with Finn–before realising that he wasn’t there anymore and that you were talking to nothing but air.

Lizzie brought you lunch and dinner, and you went home every night around nine P.M, exhausted and sore from sitting in the same cramped position for hours on end. You had a quick shower and stretch, then you collapsed onto your bed only to wake up at half past five the next morning.

For three days you worked like that, only allowing yourself a half-hour break to eat and stretch before getting back to it. It wasn’t like what you were building was hard–you had done it before. Not quite as many in as little time, but that was the fun challenge aspect of it, wasn’t it? Tommy expected it to be done in three days, and done in three days it would be.

On the last evening, you had to work an hour later than usual to get it finished, and then another thirty minutes to clean and close up. All in all, it was almost eleven o'clock when you turned the key and prepared for the walk back to your flat, the cloth bag hanging off your shoulder full and heavy. You kept one hand on it as you walked, just for an extra sense of security.

Then someone called your name from behind you, and your heart almost jumped out of your ribcage from the shock.

“Finn! You fucker!” you hissed, pressing your free palm to your chest and trying to keep your racing heartbeat under control. “What–what are you doing here–”

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to see you at all, and least of all before the job was even done. He must have found a way to slip past the men guarding your shop and flat. You felt yourself getting apprehensive again.

“I just–I haven’t seen you in days. I just wanted to say hi.”

“It’s eleven in the fucking evening, Finn. You should be home.”

“So should you!”

“I was on my way there!”

Then his eyes went to your bag, and his brows creased. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” you snapped, turning away, but you knew instantly you made a mistake. Finn wasn’t stupid–incredibly stubborn and cocky, maybe, but not stupid–and you could see him put two and two together.

“You said it was done.” And his eyes were so disappointed that you almost burst into tears right then and there. “All of it, you said.”

You knew there was nothing you could deny anymore, so you went on the defensive, hoisting the strap of your bag back up and preparing yourself for yet another shouting match that you would feel absolutely terrible about afterwards. “That was before I found out my uncle was murdered by the very same shitheads who now want me dead too.”

“I get that. You want revenge. I really do get it–but you’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

You scoffed. “God, Finn–you saying that tells me you don’t get it at all.” You started walking again. “I don’t care if I get hurt. I just want them gone.” You drew a shaky breath. “Besides, it’s too late for that anyway. I’ll be gone from this place after this is over.”

Finn put a hand on your shoulder. “We can do it for you. You don’t have to leave. I can do it for you–you don’t need to do it yourself.”

“I do, though! That’s the problem! I do need to do it myself, because my entire life I’ve had other people do things for me and look where that ended me up. Dead father, dead uncle. Alone in this godforsaken shit-hole of a town where I can barely make a living until Tommy Shelby and his gang show up and ask for bombs.” You ducked inside an alleyway, didn’t even look if Finn followed you as you spoke–because you know he had.

“There’s nothing heavier on the conscience than another man’s death, Y/N,” said Finn, and you didn’t even try to hold back the bark of bitter laughter that spilled from your tongue.

“Oh my god. Wow. That’s poetic, Finn, that really is. Did Tommy teach you that?” Ouch. You could tell that hurt him. It flashed in his eyes, souring his entire expression. It was something you’d jabbed at before, and every time you added onto it the cracks in his carefully composure widened.

And it hurt you, too. Knowing that you were the one who did this to him hurt you; it was a knife to the gut and a white-hot iron to the heart and yet the words spilled out like a dam broke and you couldn’t stop them. You felt the control on your emotions slip and took a breath, closed your eyes. Your flat was only a few blocks away. Focusing on the familiarity of the bland walls and creaky bed cleared the fog in your mind somewhat.

Calmer now, you said, “Stop trying so hard to be like him. It doesn’t suit you at all.”

He didn’t say anything else until you stopped in front of your flat and pulled out your keys.

“Don’t do this, Y/N.”

You opened the door. “I have to.”

“It’ll break you.”

You gave the darkness in front of you a sad smile. “Already broken.”

The trip to the Pinfields’ mansion was cloaked in silence, and the air was thick with tension. In the car sat Tommy, Johnny Dogs and a few of his men, you, and Charlie at the wheel. The boxes with explosives were laid out on your lap, and you were making the last final tweaks to the mines that were to be planted right in front of the Pinfields’ porch. They were inside. It was an early Sunday morning, after all, and they weren’t expecting an attack–you had a reserve of gas grenades, and all the other exits would be blocked, and the only way to get out of the house would be the front door. There, mines would be waiting for them, and the Pinfield twins would go out with a bang.

Or that was the plan. You would count yourself lucky if anything went somewhat according to the plan, which was based on quite a number of suppositions. You couldn’t deny the nerves that were slowly building up throughout the ride, but Johnny Dogs and his mates were joking around, not looking the least bit nervous, and Tommy wasn’t giving away anything at all, so you kept your face straight and tried to stop your knee from bouncing, a jittery habit you’d never quite been able to rid yourself of.

Then the car stopped, and Tommy announced that, for the last mile or so, you’d have to go through the forest. On foot. Nothing you hadn’t prepared for, so you adjusted the bag hanging from your shoulder and started walking.

When the mansion finally came into view, your breath hitched. Until now, it hadn’t felt real, somehow–it had been easy to talk about how you would kill the Pinfields, but now that you were actually pulling through with it… You wondered if you’d made a mistake. If it had been better to listen to Finn.

You shook your head. No. No hesitating now, no turning back. You’d agreed upon this plan–Hell, you had proposed this plan–and you were going to go through with it. No matter what.

It was still dark, and it was fairly easy to sneak into the garden–the Pinfields’ grounds were so big that their gates weren’t even visible from their house, and the miserable little stone wall they’d put up as extra protection didn’t pose a huge challenge for any of your team. As you approached the main door, your heartbeat started to speed up. But you were now visible from the house, and though you were wearing dark clothes you had to get this done quickly.

Johnny Dogs ran beside you, and he gave you one of his trademark grins and a pat on the back before sinking to his knees and starting to dig the trench.

The two of you worked quickly; Johnny digging, and you carefully placing the mines in the trench, activating them and quickly covering them with the loose dirt. They had a timer on, too, so they wouldn’t be fully active until after five minutes. Five minutes to plant seven mines–you couldn’t risk the brothers missing them–was tricky, but you were positive you could manage it. You had to manage it.

A whistle sounded, and you tapped the last of the dirt over the seventh mine. You shot a quick look at Johnny, who nodded and returned the call. Then he grabbed your arm and both of you sprinted back to where Tommy and the rest were waiting. He had his rifle over his shoulder, and didn’t acknowledge your return except for a grunt when you skidded to the ground beside him. Now it was just a question of waiting–waiting until just before dawn.

They were the longest, most agonising minutes of your life, each one feeling like an hour and when you were sure you would burst out of pure bottled-up nerves and excitement, Tommy said, “Now.”

One of Johnny’s boys sprang up and raced towards the house. A second later you heard the faint sound of shattering glass, and wisps of smoke started pouring from the windows. It would do a fine job of alerting the servants, maybe even the Pinfields themselves, and you started counting down the second, eyes fixated on the front door.

And then it swung open, and a man that could only have been one of the Pinfields stumbled out, one arm over his mouth against the smoke. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, as if you wanted to stifle the sound of your very breathing.

He leant against the doorframe, wiping his sleeve across his mouth, spitting on the ground. Took a step forward. Kicked a potted plant across his porch, and your heart missed a beat–but it didn’t even fall. It was huge, the pot alone half his size, and all he did was probably hurt his foot. He cursed, loudly.

And then he stepped off his porch.

For a split second, nothing happened, and you thought you would faint with the pressure–but then a mine went off, and though you were expecting it, you jumped and turned away against the sheer force of the explosion that slammed into you like a gust of wind powerful enough to rip a tree straight from its roots and knocked the breath clean out of your lungs. The detonation of one mine quickly set off the rest, and the fast mounting explosions had you shield your head with your arms and flatten yourself to the ground.

But when you looked up and tried to blink the smoke out of your eyes, something scratched at the back of your mind and you scrambled up, ignoring Johnny Dogs’ vicious tugging at your sleeve.

“No, no,” you said hoarsely, falling onto your knees again and blindly grabbing hold of the fabric of his coat. “The other one. Where’s the other one?” Only one of the brothers had stepped outside. The other Pinfield was nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” said Johnny under his breath, then he shouted what you’d said over to Tommy.

Tommy cursed and stood up too, raking a hand through his hair. He pointed at the men surrounding him. “Find the bastard. Find him and kill him.” Then he turned to you. “Stay here. You’ve done your part. This isn’t your fight anymore.”

Half of you wanted to protest, but you knew he was right. You’d never killed a man. Tricking someone into stepping onto a land mine was not the same as pointing a gun at their head and pulling the trigger. The end result may be the same (one maybe a bit bloodier than the other): a dead man on one’s conscience, but it was easier when you could turn away.

They all went their separate ways, some disappearing into the brush, others making for the house to see if he was waiting it out there, leaving you alone, half hidden behind the bushes and the trees, nothing but the beating of your own heart for company.

Your breathing was too loud. Your breathing was too loud, and when you looked down at your hands, they trembled. You balled them to fists. Hide. You had to hide, tuck yourself away so that nobody could find you. Dropping onto your knees, you shimmied yourself in between two bushes, letting the leaves fall around you, making for excellent cover.

The one downside to this was that you were completely blind to what was going on around you. You had expected noise; gunshots, shouting, engines roaring, but it was silent. So silent. Every rustling of leaves made your heart speed up, for you were certain that somebody had found you, somebody was coming for you, somebody was going to kill you–

And then it would be dark again and silent. Oh so silent.

After a while, it became too much. The pressure. The silence. You started to understand why the Shelbys liked having other people around, why those evenings of party and drink were so popular; it was to forget, to forget the events of the day, possibly forget everything if only for just a few hours. Clambering out of your hiding spot, you inched towards the edge of the forest, to try and catch a glance of what was going on.

Nothing. From the house came nothing, no shouts, no bangs. From the forest around you–nothing. You breathed out, letting it last, trying to get your nerves under control.

You would be fine. No one would find you. No one would hurt you. Tommy would kill the remaining Pinfield brother and he would come get you and you would go home. And then you would be able to leave Small Heath, leave Birmingham, once and for all.

Like a mantra you repeated it in your head, over and over, to keep yourself from running out there and finding the remaining Pinfield yourself. If you muttered it often enough, you found, you could even convince yourself it was the right choice.

You would be fine.

From behind you, there was a slight rustling and a grunt, and you exhaled in relief. “Did you find–”

But you were stopped short by two big hands clamping across your mouth, and you let out a muffled scream. Your own fingers instinctively shot up and clawed at the hands, but whoever it was that had got a hold of you was strong and wasn’t planning on letting go.

“Scream, you little fuck,” spat a coarse voice close to your ear. You struggled, tried to wriggle yourself from his hold. Panic seared through you in white-hot bolts and your eyes were wide, darting around to try and see your attacker as well as find a way out. “So you killed my brother, eh?” grunted the voice, and your insides turned to ice.

Nothing could ever have prepared you for this. Nothing could have prepared you for the scorching terror that burrowed itself in your very bones, seeped into your brain, made all rational thought impossible. Instead of going limp, you doubled your efforts to free yourself from his grasp, ripping and pulling and scratching and biting.

“You fucker–I’ll fucking kill you–” He was trying to stay quiet about it. Your feverish brain took that as a sign that someone was close by–within shouting distance, at least.

So you used all of your strength to yank your mouth free from his hand and scream. Scream as long and as hard as you possibly could; no words, just a blood-curdling shriek. A split second later he was back on top of you, more urgent this time, grunting as he tried to get his hands around your throat.

His fingers pressed into the soft skin below your chin, and only a few seconds later black spots started dancing around your vision. You gasped for breath, and, encouraged, he dug his thumbs deeper into the pressure point. A rock dug into the back of your head, and you concentrated on that pain, letting it flow through you, forcing you to stay awake. Fighting to stay awake.

But he was strong, and his knees were on either side of your hips, effectively pinning you to the ground. He was pushing harder and harder–breathing became more difficult by the second, and your grip on his wrists was slackening. You blinked furiously, but your vision was blurring. This was it, you thought. This was it.

And then a gunshot rang through the air. The sound was distant to your oxygen-deprived brain, but you heard it nevertheless, and for a second you feared the bullet was meant for you; but the fingers around your throat loosened, and Pinfield, who had been pinning you down just moments before, now froze and then dropped like a sack of potatoes.

He fell on top of you, and in a last attempt to free yourself you managed to roll out from beneath him, where you lay by his side, chest heaving with coughs and eyes screwed shut. You were vaguely aware of something warm and sticky on your face, clinging to the skin of your neck, your clothes, but being covered in blood was probably the least of your concerns.

Right now you focused on the fact that you were alive. You were alive, and the scorching breaths you sucked in proved it. Your head swam after being almost asphyxiated, and shaking fingers came up to brush the tender skin of your throat. Those would become bruises later.

You vaguely registered someone shouting your name, and a second later they dropped to their knees next to you. You opened your eyes, blinked hard, and slowly Finn’s face came into view.

He was paler than you’d ever seen him before, brows knotted together, lips pressed in a tight line. Only in the back of your mind did you note that he was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back in Small Heath. But a gun lay discarded behind him, and that’s when you realised it was Finn Shelby who saved your life.

He was saying something. His lips moved, but you couldn’t hear the words he spoke and you closed your eyes again, rubbing your hands across your face. “Wait,” you slurred. Your tongue felt like lead. Too big for your mouth. You coughed again.

“… you not to go. I fucking told you not to go, you idiot,” he was saying in a sharp but shaky voice, and when he helped you sit up his hands trembled.

“I just almost died. You don’t get to swear at me,” you said, but your voice was barely audible and you doubled over once more.

Despite everything, Finn laughed–jerkily and weak but a laugh nevertheless–and you smiled too, letting yourself fall forward into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I’m covered in blood,” you mumbled into his coat.

“What?”

You pulled away. “I’m covered in blood.”

Finn shook his head. “Not yours, so I don’t care.”

That’s when others started to appear–Johnny Dogs first, along with a few of his men, then Tommy, who immediately ran towards you and started questioning both you and Finn, barely paying any mind to the body lying, like, maybe two feet away from him. When he had quickly inspected you for any serious wounds and was satisfied, he whacked Finn on the back of his head, but he gave a small, tight smile too.

Finn helped you stand up, and didn’t let you go until you got to the hospital.

The nurse dabbed at your cuts with a cotton wad dipped in alcohol, and it stung. Sat on the edge of the hospital bed, you didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, so you kept them folded in your lap. You’d gotten mostly cleaned up; your ruined clothes were thrown in the trash, and all the blood had been washed off your face and arms. You had needed stitches for the cut on the back of your head–scalp wounds bled like crazy–but overall you had gotten away mostly unscathed.

Finn was fine, too. Shaken up, but fine. He’d explained to you on the way back how he’d talked Isiah into following Tommy’s car from a distance, and had just made his way through the forest to the mansion when he’d heard you scream.

You watched him subtly on the other side of the room where he sat with his arms crossed. He met your eyes and smiled tightly, and you stuck out your tongue, which caused him to laugh, which he tried to hide with a cough. The nurse gave your cheek a pat and you looked at her again, blushing slightly. She shook her head, but her eyes glittered.

When she was done, she packed up her stuff and said, “There’s nothing that really warrants a stay at the hospital, honestly. The neck will bruise, but you’ll be fine. Go home, get some rest, come back in two weeks to get your stitches removed.” You nodded and she left.

Finn brought you your coat, and together you stepped outside into the gloomy streets.

Though it was grey and overall a pretty sad day, you found you didn’t really care anymore. If anything, the glum weather had started to grow on you, and you were starting to appreciate some of its aspects. Sometimes. It didn’t beat a nice sunny day on the countryside, but for now it would do.

“So what now?” asked Finn after a moment of silence.

“What d'you mean?” Your voice was still hoarse, and the nurse had told you that it would be for a few days.

“You know. Are you–will you leave Birmingham?”

You had the money. The six thousand pounds from Tommy’s first job. But the more you thought about it, the more you found you didn’t really want to leave. Your flat was shit, but you could finally afford a better one. You had your shop. No one wanted to kill you anymore, which was good.

And of course there was Finn.

“Nah,” you said nonchalantly, kicking a pebble from your footpath. “Nah, I think I’ll stay.”

He immediately perked up, and a grin lit his face and you laughed. He was so predictable. “Good,” he said in a valiant effort to conceal his excitement. “That’s good.”

You would later vigorously blame it on your still-woozy brain whenever Finn brought it up, but in reality you had never thought more clearly. Maybe it was a rush of confidence, or just that you were done with the tension always hanging between you and him.

Whatever the case, you tugged Finn into an alleyway out of view from the streets and kissed him.

It was fireworks. It was the clear sunrise after a long, stormy night; it was everything you had not even dare hope for. Above all, it was worth everything it had taken you to get there. You could have done without the almost-dying, but none of it mattered now, temporarily erased from your mind by pure bliss.

“I’m staying,” you whispered against his lips, your arms around his neck.

He laughed, pulling you closer. “For me?”

You rolled your eyes, even though he wasn’t wrong. “Sure. For you.”

“There’s a contract forbidding our contact, Y/N,” he teased. “You demanded it yourself, remember?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Oh my god. Fuck the contract.”

“That’s not very professional of you.”

“You know what else isn’t professional? That fucking hideous haircut of yours.”

He laughed, a full-fledged laugh that bubbled from his throat and rang like the sweetest of music to your ears. “You’re never going to let that go, are you.”

“No. Shut up.” Shut up. And you kissed him again.

#finn shelby x reader #finn shelby fanfic #finn shelby fic #peaky blinders fic #finn shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #finn shelby peaky blinders #finn shelby peaky blinders x reader #finn shelby one shot

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larryssunflower · 4 years

Text

TRR AU- The Non-Royal Romance, part five

read past parts to catch up!

part one part two part three part four

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Alana’s pov.

Following the events of the beach party and boat race, we officially start the royal tour of Cordonia. Of course, the first stop is Lythikos, the harsh snow kingdom in the mountains. We arrive at the snowy landscape after a short drive. Maxwell and I are riding together, talking and laughing the whole time. “Are you ready to ski?” Maxwell asks, excitement evident in his voice. I grin, looking briefly out the window at the large mountains around us, a feeling of nostalgia washing over me. “I don't know, are you ready to get your ass kicked?” I ask cheekily, making him roll his eyes. “Keep talking princess, but we both know you're just going to embarrass yourself,” He says, making me scoff, punching his shoulder. He just laughs and we continue to joke around until we pull up at the lavish wooden manor.

We thank and tip the Lythikos servants who take all our bags, allowing us to instantly go out skating on the large frozen over lake. It's just me and max on the ice for a bit. I take long strides on the ice, twirling around. I finally feel like I can breathe like I'm not being suffocated. Then I look up, watching as black cars pull up, suitors spilling out, headed straight to the ice rink. Great. I glance over and see Drake standing by the lake, watching the suitors as they try their best at skating. He brings his hand up to his earpiece, pressing it and talking into it. I wonder who he is always talking to.

I feel a hand on my elbow and I turn to see Liam smiling at me. “Would you like to skate with me, Your Majesty?” He asks, extending his hand graciously. “Of course Liam,” I say kindly, taking his hand. We skate slowly on the ice. “It's so beautiful here,” He comments, and I nod. “I feel like we never have any alone time,” Liam says softly in my ear, and my cheeks flush. “Well, I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” I laugh lightly, biting my lip. As usual, my eyes have a mind of their own, and they flash over to where Drake is standing, watching us. “I hope I’m not being to forward,” Liams says, furrowing his brows and slowing down. I shake my head as if doing that would rid the thoughts of DRake and look at Liam. “Of course not,” I grin and we continue to have a nice conversation as we make our way around the lake.

We are abruptly interrupted by a handsome suitor with red hair that is stark contrast with the pale surroundings. “Do you mind if I have a moment with the princess?” He asks Liam in a cool voice, who just nods, before kissing my cheek then taking his leave. “Princess Alana, we haven't really had a chance to talk before, I’m Oliver Nevrakis, the Duke of this chateau,” He says as he extends his elbow to me. I smile, looping my hand into it. “Oh, it's very nice to finally get alone time with you, Oliver. Your estate is beautiful, thank you so much for having us,” I say, and he smiles. “Thank you. I just hope I’m better company than that boring Valtorian,” He says, a bit of disgust laced in his voice. I’m taken aback for a moment. “Oh, I don't know if I can compare you two. From what I have seen, you both seem to be lovely men,” I say, making him smirk. “I won’t tell him I’m your favorite don't worry,” He winks, before skating away, leaving me dumbfounded.

That was definitely something. My eyes find Drake, again, who is staring at Oliver with a steely glare. His eyes then flick to me, looking at me for a moment before looking away, scanning the frozen lake. The other day at the beach he was being so different, almost vulnerable. He’s barely even showing emotion around me now. Did I make a mistake asking him to put on my sunscreen? Was that too forward?

Maxwell’s voice breaks my thoughts. “Ready to ski now?” He asks, a mischievous grin on his face. “Yes! please let's go,” I say with relief, following as he leaves the lake, hoping to rid my mind of my thoughts of Drake.

---

About ten minutes later, we’re at the top of the ski track, the suitors coming up to follow us. It's like I can't escape them. Maxwell and I line up, then yell “go!” and take off together, speeding down the side of the mountain. The thought of speeding away from all those royal men thrills me and I shriek with happiness, adrenaline pumping within me. I speed up rapidly, swerving between and around the slower skiers. Almost a lifetime of lessons has treated me well. I’m way ahead of Maxwell but I glance back anyway, trying to see him. He slows down and shouts at me. “Alana! Look out!” He screams, and I look forward and yelp at the incoming branch laying haphazardly in the middle of the ski trail. Without time to swerve, I crouch and leap over it, landing and slowing down, turning my skis to the left.

The momentum makes me tumble through the powdery snow, cringing as I roll, knowing I’m going to get bruises because of this. I finally stop, and lay down looking up at the sky, breathing heavily. I’m definitely at the bottom of the slope, as I'm flat on my back. I hear shouts as Maxwell speeds down to me. It’s not his voice that I hear right above me when I open my eyes. “Are you out of your mind?” Drake asks angrily, glaring down at me. “W-What?” I say quietly, and he huffs, offering his hand to me. I take it and with his help, stand up, sliding in place momentarily in my skis. “You could have died. Or got seriously injured! What were you thinking?” He asks, his eyebrows drawn together. I’m taken aback for a minute, quietly clicking out of my skis. “Well I was just racing with Maxwell and-“ “- just don’t do it again. Use your brains for once Princess! How am I supposed to protect you if you are so careless?” He asks, genuinely angry.

I can't even find the words to respond, I just stand there, embarrassment bubbling up within me. “Hell Yeah! I had no idea you were so badass!” Maxwell shouts as he skis up to us. “Don't encourage her,” Drake snaps, making maxwell’s grin fade quickly. He brings his lips tightly together, trying not to laugh, as he looks away quickly. Drake rolls his eyes at this, turning back to me. “You’re expected inside,” He says, his gaze stone cold. I finally manage to find my voice. “Alright. I’ll be right there,” I say, and he nods, turning and heading to the large manor.

When Drake is far enough away, Maxwell breaks into laughter. I whirl around to him.

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing!”

--Later that night--

Maxwell and I are sitting by the fireplace downstairs, drinking hot chocolate and talking. Drake is standing near us silently. We’re still a bit tense after earlier. I clearly made him furious. It must be annoying when the person you are supposed to protect is being reckless. My limbs ache from the fall, but it could be worse.

Maxwell and I are interrupted when someone saunters into the room. “Well, if it isn't the lovely princess and her squires,” Oliver says cooly, leaning against the doorframe. “Excuse me?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I mean no offense, your highness, it's just that your friends here don't even measure up to you. I honestly don't know why you bother hanging out with them.” He says as he picks at his nails, his icy blue eyes darting up, hungry for my answer.

“Well, Maxwell is my good friend and frankly I don't care what you think of him, because he is the kindest person I believe I have ever met. And Mr. Walker is my loyal bodyguard who has saved me multiple times. So yes, I do ‘bother’ to hang out with them and take great offense when you say they are beneath me,” I say sternly. Oliver just smirks, his eyes moving to Drake. “Mr. Walker huh? I don’t think I have ever heard someone call you that,” He says, cocking his head to the side, regarding him with a strange familiarity.

I look over at Drake, who is staring back at Oliver, his jaw clenched in anger. “Do you know each other...?” I ask slowly, and Oliver's smirk grows. “Why don't you answer her Drakie? I’m sure she dying to know,” He says, clearly enjoying this. Drake doesn't say anything, still glaring at Oliver. “Okay, I'll go then,” Oliver says, clearing his throat. “Well, about seven months ago, I met his darling younger sister. Mmm, I can still remember how eager she used to be. So excited to be dating the great Oliver Nevrakis,” He says slowly, watching us for our reaction. I glance over at Drake, a sick feeling in my stomach. He has a sister? And she dated Oliver?

I didn't know it was possible, but somehow Drake looks angrier than before. “Oh and don't even get me started on her petite, tight body-” “-Shut the hell up. You have no right to speak about her that way,” Drake cuts him off, somehow not shouting, his voice frighteningly calm yet forceful.

Oliver is clearly pleased that he got Drake to react, and his smirk seems to grow, unfazed by Drake’s outburst. I look over at Drake worriedly. He glances over at me, his eyes softening as they meet mine. “You know what?” He says, turning to Oliver. “I remember that I have somewhere I have to be,” He says, glancing at the three of us briefly, “If you will excuse me,” Drake says, turning and heading for the door. “Aw Drake I was just getting started!” Oliver calls out, but I stand up, anger bubbling up within me. “Stop acting like a child Oliver! If you ever treat Drake like that again, I will slap that smirk right off your pathetic face.” I burst out angrily, taking Oliver aback. Drake hesitates at the door, glancing at me, before going out. The storm suddenly rumbles above us, the sky turning dark blue.

“I’m going after him,” I say, grabbing my coat and scarf from the side of the couch. “Are you sure that's a good idea?” Maxwell asks, and I shrug. “No. But I need to see him. I’ll be back,” I say, quickly heading towards the door. “Head back soon! It looks like a blizzard is coming!” Maxwell calls to me, and I nod absentmindedly, opening the door and rushing out into the snow, following Drake’s figure.

He stops in a clearing, looking up at the evening sky. “Drake?” I call out. His shoulders slump and he turns to me. “Of course you followed me out,” He says, almost amused at my lack for judgment. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Oliver was being pretty rough back there,” I say, and Drake nods, sighing. “Yeah, well that's expected. He and I, we don't really get along,” Drake mutters and I nod, looking down.

“Why come out here?” I ask, and he turns to me. “Do you trust me?” He asks, and I nod. “How could I not trust my bodyguard?” I say, and he then shoves me. I stumble and fall back onto the snow in surprise. “What the f- oh,” I say softly as I look up at the beautiful sky, meteors flying across the clear sky. Drake flops down beside me. “Yeah you can't miss something like this,” He says, a smile on his face. I look at him for a moment. His warm tan face mixed with red cheeks contrast beautifully with the powdery snow surrounding him. He must sense me looking and he turns his head. His dark eyes bore into mine, and my stomach does about 24 backflips. I look away quickly, clearing my throat. “so- uh you have a sister?” I ask, my heart suddenly quickening, so loud he must hear it. “Yeah. Savannah.” He says, his voice soft.

“Is it rude to ask what happened to her?” I ask, and he sighs. “No, it's alright. I actually used to work as minimal security here when the Nevrakis family hosted events. Savannah was always in love with the courtly life and would beg me to let her go to the parties. Then one time, I actually let her go,” He says with a shaky breath, shaking his head at himself. “She got a pretty dress and was super excited. I watched as she danced happily with some of the noblemen...Then she met Oliver. She instantly liked him and was gushing about him for weeks. They started dating, no matter how much I objected. I knew he wasn't a good guy and it killed me that she decided to fall for that snake. About four months ago, at one of the largest parties of the season, she went off to talk to him. I have no idea what about, but I remember seeing her rush out, sobbing. She left without telling anyone where she was going. She didn’t even tell me,” Drake says, his tone vulnerable. “We haven’t seen her since and many people think she fled the country,” He says quietly, and my heart breaks for him.

We sit there for a moment, the only sound being the rustle if the trees and occasional cricket. Drake doesn't speak, and I assume that he doesn't want to talk anymore. Which is understandable. “I'm so sorry Drake, that must be really hard. I wish I could have been there. To be a friend to her,” I say, and he nods silently, and I notice his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

We sit there in comfortable silence, watching the meteor shower above us. I try to ignore that our hands are about an inch apart, so close yet so far. Soon, clouds start to move in, and I sigh. “I think we should go back before we get caught in the blizzard,” I say regretfully. “Yeah I’m sure if the princess was found frozen with her bodyguard it would be quite the scandal,” He says as he gets up, making me snort. He offers his hand to me to help me back up. “Thanks for following me Princess,” He says and I smile. “Of course,” I say, and we start back to the manor. We clearly miscalculated the timing of the storm, and it comes in much quicker than we thought. The wind is strong, snow whirling around us. I blindly reach for Drakes' hand as we trudge through the storm. Drake looks over at me in surprise. “For uh- safety!” I shout, and he nods. “For safety, yeah!” He shouts back, and as he faces forward I swear I see a smile on his face.

---

The next day, right before the ball :

I scrunch up my face as I look at my reflection, adjusting my slinky silver gown, It's beautiful, but hangs a bit strange on my hips. but hey, what can you do? I just shrug, wrapping my white faux fur around my elbows. The knock at my door makes me jump, and I turn around. “Come in,” I say, and the dark wood door opens, and Drake walks in, freezing when his eyes land on me. I feel self-conscious as his eyes glance over my outfit, his cheeks red. His warm brown eyes that I adore so much finally find mine and I smile sheepishly. “Do I look alright?” I ask, adjusting my dress nervously. He shakes his head slightly, “You look per-” He stops himself suddenly, clearing his throat and looking back at me with that distanced expression that I hate so much. “They are ready for you downstairs Princess,” He says. I nod, smiling lightly, disappointment washing over me. “Of course. Thank you, Drake,” I say, walking past him, out the door. I hear him closing and locking my door, then following me from a distance. “For safety reasons, I would prefer it if you were nearer to me tonight. I don't know if I trust Oliver,” I say, bitterness in my voice as I reference last night.

Holding his hand was like an addict just getting a taste of their favorite drug again. Satisfies for the moment, but isn't enough to fully stop the craving. The need. After feeling his warm hands when he caught me on the boat, when he applied the lotion over my back, and last night when they were clutched to mine, I can't get enough. I want to feel all of him. To feel his lips on mine. To feel him hug me back, embrace me. but that will never happen. Drake follows my request, walking close by me. “thank you,” I murmur. We reach the decadent doors of the ballroom, and stop in front of them, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The herald announces my name, “And finally, The Princess Of Cordonia, Alana Rhys!” I put on my dazzling smile and the doors open.

Tonight should be interesting.

-----

Yay! Okay back on this series due to some demand! Thank you again to all of you who have supported me recently and complimented my writing! It's crazy, it feels so crazy writing this again, it has been over a year, and I have definitely changed a lot but my love for this story has not! I’m glad that there are people who enjoy my writing and this little series I decided to make. I have always loved writing and I'm so glad I can share with you guys! Thank you all for inspiring me to keep on writing. I'll try my best to have the next chapter out soon! Love you all <3

#trr #The Non-Royal Romance #the non royal romance #choices #playchoices fics #drake #mc x drake #drake walker #the royal romance #part five

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suney · 4 years

Note

Ripules n 12 cuz shy losers?

12 - things you said when you thought i was asleep [1/5] next →

Amanda is standing at her workbench heaving on the end of a crowbar the first time it happens.

“Just give me a second! I’m nearly- there!”

“What the hell are you going on about now?” A barrister pokes her nose into the workshop, observing the unfolding events from over her glasses. “I know you like your own company and tend to have these ‘stern’ discussions with yourself, but yelling at no one is actually pretty fucking weird, Amy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Ripley fires at her with a dangerous glance, wiping away horrific spatters of tin scented fluid, it’s tang reminiscent of aluminum on fillings. “Also, I was yelling at you for being an impatient ass on my comms.”

“Mm, no, I wasn’t.”

“Who else could it have been, Nina?”

She hums, squinting down at the screen, an insistent banner flashing white and grey along the top.

Eat… 18:30.

“My God you’re an idiot, Ripley. That’s not a message, it’s an alarm.”

“What? I don’t have any alarms, not for this time of day.” Amanda brushes the device off the table and into her bag on the floor. “And name calling, really?”

“I was joking.” She holds her shoulder, crossing her ankles to lean fully on the other woman. “But since you’re already distracted, come and sit down. I bought lunch.” She gently touches the cold wrist of a synthetic, laying motionless on the table. “If that’s alright by you, Samuels? Because I swear, even you won’t be able to make me give her mouth to mouth if she faints again.”

“He won’t be able to make you do anything until he’s fixed, Taylor.” The engineer rolls her eyes and follows the heavenly smell of curry wafting from the crib room.

“You really think you can?”

“I have to…”

The next time it happens she had fallen asleep using a bicep of the deactivated- the temporarily dead- android as a pillow. Her chair up as high as it will go and his hand in her own.

Sleep… 23:59.

“W’the fuck is going on?” Amanda mumbles into the synthetic’s side, lazing her arms over his chest to look at the screen. She wonders if she had installed a dodgy app, or if there had been a bug in the last batch of updates.

She yawns, swipes at the alert, and decides it probably had the right idea anyway.

Goodnight.

“Goodnight… I guess.”

Over time, the alarms had become progressively more specific. Mentioning conversations she’d had in private, even alone. Offering her advice, greeting her, wishing she had a fabulous day or night. Shockingly even to her, she never thought it was creepy, going back through her downloads to determine they had in fact been from the phone, to the phone. It was sweet. Familiar in the way it was worded like an old friend.

“Hey.” Taylor, as had become routine, appears at her door for visit one out of three today. “I bought coffee.”

“Oh my God, you read my mind.”

“I do, everyday, at exactly seven in the morning.”

“Yeah and what time do you call this?” Amanda gratefully trades the cup for a pair of soggy tin-snips and takes a drink, her fluid covered hands sticking to the paper as they swap back. Her friend holding it by the lid at an arms length.

“Late. Late is what I make of it. I’ve been at work since five absolutely snowed in with paperwork. So, fend for yourself for lunch? And don’t stay up all night, I know you’re excited, but get some rest and do it properly. Please. You only get-”

“One shot.” Amanda nods, pulling at a creamy tube full of metallics. “I know.”

Her phone blares once, and then again.

“Are you still getting those?” Nina asks indifferently, unable to counteract the hand over her upper stomach attempting to hold her bagel down as out of the chest comes what looks like an organ, attached at the base by colour coded wires.

“Yah."

“Aren’t you going to check it?”

It rings one more time in a different tone and Amanda supposes she should. The advice it offered had sometimes been handy, telling her the microwave had gone off, or the ice had melted in her bourbon and coke. This, however, was eerie.

Pay attention.

Please don’t cut the red wire.

Do not cut the red wire.

It vibrates a final time.

S-Exec Repair Manual, p 138: preventative measures for fuel cell ignition.

“Holy fuck.” Amanda flips a page on the next table over, quoting from it. “‘Disconnect from power source before removing fuel cell… red wire last… prone to violent combustion…’ Holy fuck."

“Someone’s definitely watching over you.” Nina breathes a sigh of relief.

“I might- yeah, I might sit down for my coffee today.”

“Good idea. I’ll leave you to it.”

Amanda nods her goodbye with a quick hug and regards the synthetic at a safe distance. It isn’t until hours later that she moves, or even speaks again, shocked into silence by the fact she could have killed her friend and less importantly, lost an arm in doing so.

Your drink is definitely cold. It has been for six hours.

She glances at the screen as it wobbles on her jogging knee. “So, I’ve been thinking,” she starts out of nowhere, “if I didn’t know any better, which I do, I’d agree with Nina and say you’re looking out for me. Which is ridiculous because all the evidence points to you just being a device, but I think somebody is behind this. Whatever this is."

I am here.

“Yeah, I feel that. Maybe I’m going insane, because that’s kinda likely… but I think you want something from me too.”

What might that be?

“I don’t know. I don’t even know who you are, let alone what you could possibly be after.”

It would be nice if you stayed intact.

Amanda huffs her way over to disconnect the trickle charger from the terminals in Samuels’ chest. “A real Samaritan.”

I am being honest. I want you safe. I…

“You what?"

Nothing.

“Okay buddy, maybe it’s best to pump the breaks before you freak me out. Don’t get me wrong, you’re cool, whoever you are, and if you ever show yourself we can go for a beer or something. But I’m kind of… committed elsewhere.”

Committed?

“Yeah.”

Oh.

“Problem?”

Not at all. I'm… happy. For you. Pause. Anyone I might know of?

“Probably not, we haven’t been on-site very long.”

Nina? A familiar sass bleeds through this notification that Amanda can almost hear.

“What? Fuck no. I care about her too, but it’s definitely someone else.” She wipes hydraulic fluid from her hands on an old rag. An old rag that happened to be a shred of Samuels’ favourite semi-melted shirt. He looks disgusted by her actions even in his sleep. “Do- do you really think I’d be investing so much time and effort into fixing this synthetic if I didn’t- care about him? A lot?”

Yes, you would. Because you are kind.

Amanda fights to urge to inform the stranger that she’d had to kill people before. Murder at point blank range. Leave some to die. Use human life as distraction. Instead, she turns up the radio.

“Blue Öyster Cult. Burning for you. What a solid song.” She looks over the slightly charred synthetic before her. “I’m not being at all ironic.”

Home in the valley, home in the city;

Home isn’t pretty, ain’t no home for me;

“You know it?”

Obviously. The text is no different than usual but rings like a pompous English accent. It is a classic, I rather like it. And Bat Out Of Hell.

“Oh, my friend. You are after my heart.”

I hope so…

“Keep hoping.” She laughs to the ceiling, tapping a hex key to the palm of her hand. “When I finally get this guy up we’re going to Earth and we’re just- just fucking hitting the road. Getting outta Dodge, or y’know. Luna. We can sleep in shitty motels and in the back of the car and I can pick up work in garages as we go. And I know I’m going to absolutely torture him with this kinda music, he’ll hate it, but I’ll find ways to make it up to him.”

I do not think he’d hate that at all. I think he’d love it, actually.

“I don’t think he loves anything. I don’t know if he can. But here’s hoping he’ll be fond enough of me to stick around after he’s back in one piece, and out of The Company’s grubby little hands.” She realizes the irony of her words, hesitating to brush his hair back with grease stained nails. “If he doesn’t it’ll be enough knowing he’s out there somewhere. Alive, even though I miss him. Fuck, I miss him.”

The device falls silent as she presses her lips to his forehead.

“Goodnight, Samuels. Keep ‘em crossed for tomorrow. It’s the big day.”

Her comms device vibrates in her pocket as she flops down onto the cribroom couch. Her eyelids droop, brain shutting down for the day. She decides she might just check it in the morning.

(Goodnight, Amy. I miss you too.)

#ripuels ask fic

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ddaddsprompts · 7 years

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Hey I'm so AMAZED with your prompts, YOU ARE AWESOME!! they are so well done and you're really creative in your writing and I LOVE that :3 But enough fangirling I was hoping you would consider making a prompt that has the [Dad]'s kids reacting to their dad and his husband, Dadsona, having a new baby(perhaps thru mpreg means?) maybe a boy for the families overrun with girls and a girl for the ones with boys. Maybe even include Amanda too? I know this is a lot but I hope you at least like it :3

Could you do an imagine where the cool-de-sac kids handle with their Dads having a new baby with Dadsona? I found river real cute and this just came to me :3 plus can you imagine Ernest or Daisy as older siblings super cute!!

Thank you so much!! This was a lot of fun to write (despite the pain in my fingers), so I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did. Dadsona here is trans and thus capable of getting pregnant.

🥃 You aren’t as close to Valas you’d like to be, but there were still issues father and daughter needed towork out between them and you can understand that. Robert’s got better, a lot better, since your talk under thetree in your backyard, thank god, because you don’t know how the ‘old’ Robertwould have reacted to seeing the positive pregnancy test you presented him with.There were tears, sloppy, wet kisses and laughter. The fact Val came to visitthe following weekend was a lucky coincidence, but you’d take it. You aren’tfar along enough to show already, but the way Robert hovers around you,constantly keeping you in his sight, asking you a thousand questions just tomake sure you really are fine, would have tipped anyone off. “I don’t deserve another child,” Roberthad said, “I haven’t even made things upwith Val yet. I don’t want her to be angry at our kid for getting the fathershe never had.” He needn’t have worried. Val seems to immediately sense somethingwas off. You’re worried about her brows getting stuck in that position if shecontinued frowning. You don’t want to breach the topic before Robert is readyto tell her, but Val beats you to it. She stands up right after dinner andcrosses her arms in front of her chest. The resemblance to Robert isremarkable. “Okay, you two, spill it.” “I’m pregnant,” you say. “About threeweeks in.” Val stands, frozen, for a few moments. You can see Robert go tense,his knuckles white. Then Val surges forward to hug you two and buries her facein her father’s shoulder, saying “I’m so happy for you two” over and over again.There are tears, sloppy, wet kisses and laughter. He needn’t have worried.

🍸 Chris’ immediate response to hearing the news isto look at you and ask “How? Men can’t get pregnant.” You’re surprised, asuntil now, you thought Joseph’s kids knew, but Joseph whispers into your earthat it wasn’t his right to tell them and you understand. After half an hour ofexplaining you’re trans and what exactly that means, Chris seems satisfied withyour explanation. Christie and Christian, not so much. “Is it going to be agirl? I want a sister. I already have three brothers.” Christian elbowed histwin in the side. “Nuh-uh. I want a brother.” Christie glared daggers at him.You stifle a laugh behind your hand and see Joseph do the same. Crish, in hiscrib, blew a spit bubble, making clear he doesn’t particularly care either way,because he’s a toddler and doesn’t understand any of what you say yet. “Wedon’t have any way of influencing the gender of the child and it’s too earlyfor the doctors to find out,” Joseph interrupts before the argument can evolveinto a proper fight. “But you can try praying for a brother or sister, maybe Hecan be convinced by your arguments.” The twins, still glaring at each other,nod. Suddenly, there is a hand on your belly, and you look down to find Chrislook at it in concentration. “What are you doing, champ?” Chris’ mouth twitchesin what you now recognise as a smirk. “Praying it’s not twins again.” You andJoseph break into giggles as the twins whine.

☕ Mat and you planned on telling Carmensita overdinner, but neither of you counted on her perceptivity. “Y/N, why aren’t youdrinking your usual coffee?” She asks you as she plops down on the couch nextto you. You look at your fruit drink and then back at her. “I can’t havecaffeine, sweetheart.” The response was automatic, reflexive, and your brainscatches up only as Carmensita’s eyes go wide and her skin a few shades paler. “Areyou sick? Oh god, that’s why you went to the doctor’s recently, isn’t it? You’resick.” With horror you realise there are tears in her eyes. The next momentCarmensita is crying and hugging you with all her might. “Please don’t die likeMommy,” she sobs. The words break your heart. At the first commotion Pablo raninto the back and now, Mat comes hurrying over. He pries Carmensita off you andlifts her into his arms, rubbing circles on her back. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”Carmensita sobs again. “Y/N told me he can’t have coffee anymore and I know hewent to the doctor’s a few days ago! He’s sick! I don’t want to lose him too!”Mat’s eyes widen in shock. He gently puts Carmensita down on the couch againand kneels in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. “Baby girl, Y/N isn’tsick, I promise. He can’t drink coffee at the moment because he can’t havecaffeine. Baby girl, Y/N is pregnant. You’re going to get a baby brother orsister soon.” Carmensita looks from her father to you. “Pregnant…?” You nod ather and smile. “Yes, dear.” She hugs you tightly again, but this time she’slaughing from joy.

🌹 The decision who of you would carry the childhadn’t been easy, but eventually, you decided it would be you, and you twoasked Robert whether he would donate sperm. After the initial meltdown, he saidyes. A month later, you received the news: You were pregnant. Now it’s time totell Lucien. He’d known you were thinking about having a child and had gone tothe doctor, but not that it worked at the first try. Damien is a nervous wreckas you two prepare dinner for when Lucien returns from school. “He already toldyou he’s happy about our decision and looking forward to a younger sibling. Whyare you so worried now, dear?” He runs a hand through his hair and gives asomewhat helpless shrug. It makes you pull him closer, sneaking an arm aroundhis waist. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Maybe that he has changed his mind.”“I haven’t,” Lucien says, kicking the door shut behind him. “If it’s about yourwish for a child.” He drops his bag and leans against the wall. You canpractically guess the direction of his thoughts as you follow his eyes go fromDamien’s face to yours and then down to the hand Damien has on your stomach.Lucien’s eyes light up and you think, he figured it out. “Did it work?” Lucienasks. Warmth spreads out inside of you at his tone, the pure joy you can hearin his voice. “Yes, dear,” Damien replies and you add, “I’m pregnant.” Lucienwhoops and runs over to tackle-hug you both; the impact sends you three into acuddle pile on the floor. “I’m going to be a big brother!” You laugh and coverDamien’s hand with your own.

🎣 “Dad… what are you doing?” You lift your headand peer over the book you’ve been reading while Brian got to work building a nurseryfrom scratch. Daisy is standing in the doorframe, watching with a confused lookas her father hammered nails into a wooden plank. He was vibrating withexcitement, like you and Craig used to on four cups of coffee spiked withenergy drinks. The fact that the news made him so happy still fills you withjoy. “Building a-“ Brian trails off and shoots you a look. You gesture him tocarry on; there was no reason why she shouldn’t know. Brian puts aside thehammer and walks over to his daughter, sweeping her up into a hug that left herfeet dangling above the floor. “—nursery for your baby brother or sister! Y/Nis pregnant! I’m going to be a father again and you’re going to be a bigsister! Isn’t that great, Daisy?!” Daisy doesn’t reply. You feel a pang ofworry in your chest at her expression. She doesn’t look happy at all. Brianlowers his daughter to the floor again and kneels down to look at her face. “Daisy,dear? Aren’t you happy?” Daisy starts fidgeting and wrings her hands. “I am,but…” She averts her eyes. “What if I won’t be a good big sister? I can’t teachthem anything besides school stuff…” Standing up, you cross the distance andtoo kneel in front of her. “You’ll be a great big sister. Besides, Amanda isthere, too, and together you’ll be the bestest sisters in the world.” Daisypulls a face. “It’s best, Y/N.” Youwink and pull her into your arms.

👟 “No.” “But—“ “No, absolutely not.” “But, bro—“ “Craig,I won’t let you name my child Meadow or Forrest.” Craig gives you his patentedpuppy eyes, complete with a pout, and you feel your resolve crumble. “How aboutRain? Or Willow? Flint? Sterling?” You groan and throw up your hands. “How areyou even coming up with all these names? Do you have, like, a list?” Craig’ssheepish look is all the answer you need. You turn around and walk into theliving room, throwing yourself down on the couch and turning on whateverreality-TV show is currently on air. Craig trails after you and you scoot overto make space. After a few minutes of silence you lift your head and look downat River, who is playing with Arnold on a blanket. “Hey, River?” She looks upat you. “You’re going to be a big sister. How does that make you feel?” River wavesArnold around. “Sisa!” You turn to Craig. “One down, two to go. Your job.”Craig laughs. “That’s unfair, bro. You got the easy part.” You nudge him withhis foot. “I’ll remind you of what you said once I’m moody and have swollenfeet.”About halfway through the second episode the front door is opened and in stormHazel and Briar. Craig slips out from behind you and starts preparing lunch,while you play with River, trying to get her to say “Relax”. At least, youplanned on playing with her, but suddenly the twins come running back andtackle you, making you fall on your back with an ‘oof’. “Is it going to be agirl or a boy?” “How long until they are born?” “Did you already pick a name?” “Howabout Birch?” You groan again and cover your face with your arm. You canpractically feel Craig’s smug look on you.

📖 Ernest’s reaction to your pregnancy had been asexpected: He cursed, he threw tantrums, he seemed to hate you even more thanbefore. Hugo had warned you it might happen; what neither of you expected washow much he changed as your belly grew, how he seemed to come around to theprospect of a baby in the household. More than once, after coming home fromwork, you found him standing in the room you had converted into the nursery androcking the crib back and forth. You never mentioned anything and left beforehe noticed you. Now, the day has finally come and Ernest seemed even morenervous than either you or Hugo. He keeps throwing nervous glances at you,every gasp or hiss leaving your mouth making him look even more worried. “Don’tworry, Ernest,” you tell him with a weak smile. “It’s not my first rodeo.” Hescoffs, clearly embarrassed at being found out, but nods and turns to face theroad again. The delivery goes without any problems and after a few hoursshouting at the top of your lungs and squeezing Hugo’s hand, your beautifuldaughter is lying on your chest, fast asleep. Hugo is sitting next to you,still crying, holding your daughter’s tiny hand in his much larger ones. Thedoor opens and Ernest tentatively steps into the room. His eyes go wide when hesees his half-sister, but he doesn’t move. You wave him over and carefully pickup your child, offering it to him. You’ve never seen him handle something withso much care and reverence before. “What’s her name?” He asks; you act like youdidn’t hear his voice crack. “Mary Shelley Vega-[Y/N].”

#dream daddy #dream daddy: a dad dating simulator #dream daddy a dad dating simulator #ddadds #ddadds imagine #Anonymous

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