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bex-la-get · 3 years

Text

A Very Important Question (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: Sienna Trinh

Word count: 2012

Summary: Ethan has a very important question for Nat.

Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the anon who asked if I had written Ethan and Nat’s proposal story. Surprisingly, I had not so, of course, I had to rectify that immediately. Hope you enjoy it! 😘 Also this is unedited so sorry in advance for mistakes.

Ethan was acting weird.

He was constantly stepping away from work to attend meetings off-site, closed his laptop anytime someone walked by, and seemed to be in a constant state of anxiety. Whenever Natalie tried to talk to him about it, he always brushed it off, reassuring her he was fine.

“I’m just under a lot of stress, Nat, that’s all. Being Chief is more involved than I realized,” he would say.

Natalie wasn’t convinced.

“I don’t know, Si. I’m worried about him,” Nat said one night when getting drinks with Sienna. “You don’t think he’s having money trouble and he’s trying to hide it from me, do you?”

Sienna furrowed her brows. “You mean like gambling debts? That doesn’t seem like Ethan.”

Natalie shrugged. “I know it doesn’t. I’m just grasping at straws here. Trying to make sense of it all.”

Sienna squeezed Natalie’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t look too much into it, Nat. He’s probably just stressed; lord knows Bloom doesn’t make things easy and the Chief’s job is pretty demanding.”

Nat sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Si.”

“Anytime.”

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

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

When Nat returned home that night, she found Ethan sitting on the sofa, watching an old black-and-white movie. His eyes lit up when he spotted her and he jumped off the couch to greet her. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” she smiled.

Ethan pulled her close and kissed her softly, smiling as Natalie immediately relaxed in his arms. “I missed you,” he said, pulling away.

“I just saw you a few hours ago,” she replied.

“I know and then I went several hours without seeing you and I missed you terribly during that time.”

She laughed and caressed his cheek with her hand. “Well, I missed you too.” Her brows furrowed and she stepped closer to him. “Are you okay? You’ve been so stressed this past week; I’m worried about you.”

His eyes softened and he nodded. “I know; I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. This-- this whole thing with being Chief and trying to navigate my new responsibilities while still having to answer to Bloom has been overwhelming. And I kind of bottled it up; I know I have no reason to, it’s just-- just an old habit, I guess.”

Natalie smiled understandingly. “I know, I’m quite familiar with those old habits of yours.” He chuckled and she nuzzled his nose with hers. “You don’t have to bottle it up anymore, my love. I’m here for you, always. And I want to support you through everything, be it good or bad. I’ve got you.”

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you; I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Just talk to me, okay? Even if it’s minor, I always want you to feel like you can come to me.”

“I will, I promise.” His forehead still resting against hers, he closed his eyes and held her close for a long moment, just enjoying having her in his arms. He was fully aware of how lucky he was to have her and while it killed him to lie to her, he hoped she’d forgive him when she realized the reason why.

Nuzzling her nose with his, he moved to kiss her forehead then looked at her. “Are you hungry? There’s some leftovers in the fridge I can heat up.”

She smiled and nodded. “That sounds great. Let me change though, these jeans have overstayed their welcome.”

He chuckled and watched as she made her way to the bedroom. “Hey,” he called. She turned and looked at him expectantly and he smiled. “I love you.”

She grinned. “I love you more.”

“Never.”

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

Ethan looked around the apartment, triple checking his packing list in case he missed something. They were only going to be gone for the weekend but he needed to make sure that nothing was missing or left behind. This had to go perfectly; and with a lot of luck, it would. But that assumed he remembered everything-- did he pack enough underwear? What about the wine, is the wine in the cooler? Ring. The ring’s in his suitcase. Should he double check again?

The lock in the front door turned and Ethan had a brief moment of panic before shaking it off. He’d been preparing for this for over a week, everything was set. He just needed to remember to breathe.

Nat smiled at Ethan as she walked in. “Hey you.”

Ethan visibly relaxed and returned her smile. “Hi. How was lunch with Sienna?”

“Good! We got our nails done too. Lookie!” She extended her hand out to him and he admired the bright red she had chosen. He tried not to lose himself in the visual of a diamond ring on the very hand he was looking at, instead focusing on the color. Don’t give it away!

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Very pretty. Good color choice.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. Then, noticing the duffle bag that sat on the couch behind him, she furrowed her brows. “Are you going somewhere?”

“We are,” he corrected. “We’re taking the weekend off and going to Martha’s Vineyard, just the two of us. And Jenner.”

She smiled. “Really? Wait, I’m supposed to work tomorrow!”

Ethan shook his head. “Not anymore. I cleared your schedule and got your shifts covered. You’re free until Tuesday. Perks of dating the Chief.” He winked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, Ethan; that’s so sweet of you. But… what’s the occasion? I’m not forgetting an anniversary, am I?”

He chuckled. “No; I just thought we could both do with a weekend off. I hope it’s okay that I decided that?” The thought suddenly crossed his mind that she might object to having a trip suddenly sprung on her without warning.

She smiled and quelled his nerves with a gentle kiss. “It’s more than okay. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

“Anything for you, my love.” He pointed to the duffle bag. “Everything’s already packed, we just need to get it all into the car. Will you leash Jenner?”

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

Their first night in Martha’s Vineyard had been relaxing and romantic. After arriving at the AirBnB Ethan had rented, the two had gone out to dinner and enjoyed a quiet date overlooking the beach. Nat had looked beautiful in her sundress and windblown hair, her smile lighting up the entire patio. If Ethan hadn’t left the ring at the house, he might’ve proposed just then. But he had put too much planning into this proposal, damn it, he wasn’t about to ruin it all with an impulse, no matter how tempted he was.

After a lazy Saturday morning stumbling around the house, Ethan, Natalie, and Jenner made their way to the beach, picnic basket and blanket in hand. “This was such a good idea, babe!” Nat said as she popped a cheese cube into her mouth. “We haven’t been on a picnic in forever!”

Ethan smiled. “That’s why I thought we could have one while we were here. The beach seems like as good a place as any for a picnic.”

Natalie smiled. “This reminds me of our first date.”

“Does it now?”

“Mhm,” she said, sipping her wine. “The two of us and Jenner, enjoying a beautiful day outside. We had a picnic then too.”

“I remember,” Ethan said, smiling fondly. “I was nervous for that date. I wanted to make a good impression on you.”

“Really? You had already made a good impression on me.”

“Not as a boyfriend, I hadn’t. I wanted everything to go perfectly; it mattered to me that you knew how much I care about you. How much I love you. I may or may not have agonized over how much cheese was too much for that picnic.”

Nat smiled and squeezed his hand. “I knew then as I know now how much you love me. It’s as much as I love you, which is a lot. And you made a wonderful impression on me, Ethan. You always do. Also, there is no such thing as too much cheese.”

He laughed. “I know that now.” He leaned towards her and kissed her softly, caressing her cheek with his free hand. “I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away.

“I love you too,” she replied. She looked back at their picnic basket and smiled. “Any chance you packed some sweet stuff in there?”

“Mhm,” Ethan nodded. “There’s some chocolate covered strawberries at the bottom of the basket.

Nat’s eyes lit up. “You spoil me!”

Ethan watched with bated breath as Nat dug her way to the bottom of the basket, fully aware of what she’d find on top of aforementioned strawberries. His heart pounded as he watched her hands slow in their search and listened to the quiet gasp that escaped her lips. With one final reach, she pulled out a small velvet box, her eyes wide. “Ethan… I-- what?”

He moved closer to her and clasped his hands over hers, holding the box in place. “I love you,” he told her. Deftly, he maneuvered the small box out of her grasp and held it in front of her. “I love you so much and I want to live the rest of my life with you by my side. Natalie, you are kind and intelligent and passionate and beautiful both inside and out. You have such fire in your eyes, it could set the whole world ablaze and I would but happily burn in the flames.

“You have made my life so much better, from the first day you stepped into it. You light up my darkest days, your embrace is my home; I am a better man because of you and I know true happiness with you. Wherever you go Nat, I will follow. I love you and I can’t wait to grow old with you. Will you marry me?”

Nat was crying, a beautiful watery smile on her face. She sniffled and hastily wiped the tears that were falling away as she struggled to find her voice. “Ethan, I--” she choked back a sob and smiled even bigger. “I love you so much. Yes. Yes, I will marry you!”

Choking back a sob of his own, Ethan pulled Natalie into a tight embrace, her arms flinging around his shoulders and they held each other tightly, crying tears of overwhelming happiness and whispered “I love you’s.”

Eventually, they pulled apart and wiped each other’s tears away before Ethan pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto Natalie’s finger. Sienna’s tips about Nat’s ring size had been correct and it fit like a glove, much to his relief. The ring looked better on her hand than he could have ever imagined. And now it would live on her hand for the rest of their lives, a symbol of their undying love for each other.

Natalie smiled at the ring and sniffled. “So is this why Sienna insisted we get our nails done yesterday?” she asked.

Ethan laughed. “I suppose so. She had mentioned it to me but I didn’t think much of it. It does make a lot of sense, though.”

She giggled and nodded. Then she looked at him thoughtfully. “You weren’t stressed about work at all, were you? You were stressed about this.”

He nodded and ran his thumb over the ring. “Yes. I’m sorry I worried you; and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. I wanted to keep it a surprise as best I could. I didn’t know how else to go about it.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad to know this was what you were stressed about and nothing more pressing; like gambling debts or something like that.”

“I only gamble when it comes to Declan Nash, you know that,” he smirked.

“Of course,” she laughed. “How silly of me.”

He leaned in close and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Nat.”

“I love you more.”

He smiled and kissed her soundly on the lips, very nearly forgetting what they were talking about. “Never.”

A/N: Hope you guys liked it! 💙

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart @ohchoices @maurine07 @oldminniemcg @parisa-kh @shanzay44 @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer @adiehardfan @custaroonie @mia143 @a-crepusculo @takemyopenheart @toadfrog26 @quixoticdreamer16 @barbean @headoverheelsforramsey @natureblooms24 @choicesaddict5 @jerzwriter

#bexwritesstuff #open heart fic #ethan ramsey #natalie cusack #ethan x natalie #open heart mc #ethan x mc #open heart choices

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hiiro-writes · 3 years

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zhongluc single dad au part 5 finale!

hiro here to bring y'all the last part of the single dad au series: a cup of you

as promised, here is the finale with a happy ending, and i hope you enjoy!

《♡》

a week passed yet it seemed like forever

the day after diluc told the principle that bennett wouldn't be able to go to school due to his injury, several of his friends and classmates came to visit him

since diluc was busy with accompanying his son in the hospital, jean, lisa, eula, and kaeya had to cover his shifts

for the first few days, zhongli tried to call him but diluc only ignored him since there was only so many things he could take right now

as much as bennett wanted to reassure he was fine he...really wasn't

the fall caused a fracture and he needed surgery (and the aftermath of the screws is...not pleasant) and so diluc was there 24/7 to take care of him and administer the painkillers

it wasn't until another week where bennett would be discharged from the hospital

when diluc expected the cafe to be closed at this hour (it was around 10pm too) he and bennett were greeted with confetti

apparently kaeya, jean, lisa, and eula wanted to welcome them back and congratulate bennett on being discharged from the hospital

kaeya also takes this opportunity to talk to diluc for a bit and tell him to relax and take it easy now that bennett is out of the hospital

he also tells him that if ever he needed some time off for his son they can take over his shifts if he gives additional pay

then diluc proceeds to smack kaeya on the head

on the other hand zhongli meets up with his good friend, venti for drinks

"good friend" when he doesn't get drunk all the time or pry into zhongli's love life so much and makes jokes about making them into songs

right now though he just wanted drinks with the company of friends

when zhongli arrived to the bar, venti was already drinking all by himself (with around 2 or 3 glasses already)

he is already disappointed in his friend

there was a bit of bickering on both ends at first until zhongli orders osmanthus wine and venti comments that he only drinks it when he’s bummed out

the “good friend” part of venti asked zhongli if he was still taking antidepressants the last time they saw each other

he still does but not as much as they used to these days but he feels the need to take them regularly again

as much as venti wants to asks he just drops the topic and talks about work instead

venti is a freelance songwriter for anything and everything due to his so called “musical genius”

they talk and drink for the rest of the night but venti starts to realise that zhongli is drinking a lot more than he’s used to

venti takes this opportunity to ask his dear friend a few...questions

when he asks about the person he likes nowadays, zhongli smiles and tells venti all the things he likes about him

just before he gets into too much detail, venti asks him another question

he asks if he’s happy to which zhongli looks troubled

zhongli mentions that yes, he is happy but lately they haven’t been talking and he blames himself for it

he then becomes dejected over it and venti feels guilty for asking

it was a good thing zhongli’s phone was out (and that venti knew the password) because it was time for them to go and he couldn’t exactly drive all the way back to zhongli’s place when venti uses a scooter

venti decides to call childe since the last message from his was saying that he made calla lily seafood soup for the kids at home

childe was surprised to hear venti’s sober voice since he’s usually the that’s drunk and needs to be escorted home

he arrives on time to see venti taking care of a passed out zhongli and take him home

he asked what happened and venti’s only explanation was that he drank too much

as much as childe wanted to ask more it was already getting late and the bar was closing soon

on the ride home, zhongli mumbled something that childe was able to hear so clearly

“i miss him”

there was no need to guess who it was based on how so fondly zhongli said it

this was the last straw, childe told himself, and decided to pay a small visit to angel’s share cafe the next morning

diluc was taking a break after his shift while kaeya stayed by the cashier when childe stormed in and demanded diluc for an explanation for not talking to zhongli for nearly nearly three weeks now

all diluc could tell him was sorry since he’s still trying to process his emotions first about it

kaeya leaves his place by the cashier and stops childe before he could do anything rash

childe begins to tell kaeya that “this wasn’t supposed to happen” and “the plan was perfect”

diluc catches on and asks what plan they were talking about to which childe covered his mouth and made kaeya sigh

he turned to face his brother and said that he will explain all about it someday

it only took diluc a few moments to understand the whole situation and confirm with his brother if he and childe set him up with zhongli

since the cat’s out of the bag, kaeya mentions everyone who was in on it which makes diluc even more frustrated

kaeya tries to apologies but diluc replies with “don’t talk to me” and leaves the cafe

diluc was on his way to guyun stone park and realised half-way that it will only dampen his mood even more

when he’s about to turn back he bumps into someone who spills their drink on both of them

“what a mess...i’ll remember this.”

diluc realises that he bumped into eula and apologises immediately and offers her his handkerchief only to be turned down

she said it was fine since it’s only cold water and will dry soon eventually

eula noticed that something was wrong and asked if he wanted to talk about it since it’s troubling him so much

they then sit on a nearby bench just outside guyun stone park where diluc talks about what’s troubling him but only giving her vague details about it

he admits that he’s upset since they all planned for this to happen and thinks that it’s some kind of sick joke, as if poking fun at his romantic life

eula can’t say much since she’s an outsider in all of this but suggests that he should talk to zhongli about what happened since she sympathizes with him

when diluc gives her a puzzled look she replies with “i know the feeling of being misunderstood and it isn’t a pleasant one”

he didn’t have the right to ask her a personal question so they both just leave it at that

diluc gives it some thought for a few days before calling zhongli again but this time, he’s the one ignoring his calls

it had nearly been a month and they still haven’t talked to each other and it kind of feels like their relationship ended before it even began

when he was thinking of giving up after calling for the umpteenth time, a small fox, no...rabbit? was placed on the counter

he looks up to see albedo carrying his little sister klee and mentions that she’s been meaning to give that to him since he looks sad lately and wanted to cheer him up to thank him for all the delicious treats he serves

this reminds diluc of the gift he got for zhongli on the day he was gonna confess

he hurriedly thanks albedo and asks jean if she could take over since he needed to go somewhere important

with the gift in hand, he bought a bouquet of glaze lilies on the way and made his way to zhongli’s apartment

when he arrived he was greeted by xiao at the door who only closed it as soon as he saw him

diluc tried knocking again and again until zhongli was the one who opened the door and was very much surprised to see him and realise why xiao kept the door closed

“zhongli...”

he stopped the door before zhongli was able to fully close it and requested if they could talk for a bit

it took him a few moments to decide yet it felt like forever. in the end zhongli nods and they go down the small garden where there were barely any people

diluc decides to give the flowers first as an apology for ignoring him the past few weeks since a lot of things...happened

before he could continue zhongli asked how bennett was as if to change the subject and diluc mentioned that his son was fine

going back, he starts explaining what he saw that day and was really confused about it and thought that zhongli already had someone else and then the accident happened with bennett so he had to prioritize his son of course

he also mentions that he should have asked in the beginning and told him what happened instead of rushing out of the park and leaving him to wait for hours

zhongli explained that the man he saw the other day was a dear friend of his and they used to be close

diluc is now dumbfounded after hearing who the man was and feels stupid for being jealous about it

when zhongli wonders why diluc didn’t ask in the first place, the other explained since he felt hurt

“but why?”

“because i like you”

then they both stand there in silence because...finally

diluc confesses that that’s what he’s been meaning to tell zhongli, who cuts him short and kisses him

it was just a short, chaste kiss before he pulled away until diluc brought their lips together again with such need

when they part again, zhongli smiles and tells diluc that he likes him too, but he probably already knew that

they both laugh and zhongli comments that the flowers were lovely

diluc then shows him a box and mentions that we he was also supposed to gift this too him that day

when zhongli opens it, he sees a pocket watch with a mountain and dragon designs on it

“you told me you liked antiques and so i bought it because it reminded me of you”

this time, zhongli pulls him in for a hug and thanks him. he also apologises for ignoring his calls and messages but diluc only reassures him by saying that he deserved it

timeskip to a year later and their relationship has been going well

they still continue to have their weekly dates together (bi weekly if they're considering the ones that they're not with the kids)

on just a few simple occasions, they would all go out together as if they were already a real family

ganyu asks them when they'll get married so she can stop calling diluc "diluc" and start calling him dad

they both blush and diluc explains that it's not their time yet since someone else is getting married

zhongli was at his usually table at the cafe when kaeya happily serves him his drink and gives him his wedding invitation, saying that he wanted to give it before childe managed to do so

he’s surprised that they still managed to print the invitation a few weeks away from the actual wedding

childe and kaeya have been planning for months and yet somehow they forgot to formally invite everyone to the event itself, which was understandable since they were both still busy at work

zhongli was going to be one of childe’s groomsmen while diluc was going to be kaeya’s best man

the ceremony went well and everyone was happy for the new couple

diluc did the honours of saying a speech during the reception to the newly weds and congratulate them both on this new chapter of their lives

when it came to the dancing part of the program, diluc invited zhongli to dance with him and said that he could only slow dance to which zhongli laughs but takes his hand

they both watch childe and kaeya happily dance together (with a few missteps here and there but diluc is also the same) and pondered how their wedding would be like

zhongli adds that he would rather have it at a garden instead and maybe just invite a few friends

diluc agrees and wonders how they’ll be able to share the apartment since diluc’s place was enough for him, bennett, and kaeya, while zhongli’s was the same

zhongli suggested to just buy a house instead and discussed the importance of each of their kids to have their own separate rooms since it “teaches about independence”

they both also comment on having a nice kitchen, space in the living room in case a few guests were over, a table big enough to fit around 6 people since ganyu invites keqing a lot for dinner

which reminds diluc, and asks if xiao and aether were together yet to which zhongli chuckles

“there’s no need to rush,” he smiles, “they’ll figure it out.”

“like us?” diluc adds and gives him a kiss

zhongli nods and smiles even more, pulling them closer to kiss his lover back

《♡》

and that's a wrap!

this all started with a coop with my friend and it all just...descended into this madness

special thanks to @valberryy and @chairagi for listening to my brainrot and helping me beta read this!

thank you for reading this series and i hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did!!

there will still be a fanfic version of this that i'm gonna post on ao3 soon! and i'll post the link to that fic here as well

thank you again!

be sure to check out the previous parts here:

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

#IT IS FINISHED #im so happy HAHAHAHA #a cup of you #genshin impact #diluc #zhongli #zhongluc #single dad au #hiro writes

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sunnypogue · 4 years

Text

midsummers with hockey rafe (blurb)

requested by an anon who asked if i could write something about ward telling rafe to cover his hickeys at midsummers. obviously, had to make it coho!rafe.

enjoy!

you didn’t really know what you were getting yourself into when rafe invited you to midsummers.

it was spring semester, the two of you were in your roommates hammock that sagged on your front porch, mapping out your summer plans.

“so you’ll come stay with my family on hilton head for the fourth, right?” you asked, playing with his big, calloused fingers.

rafe made a sound of approval.

“we’ll have to book tickets for you to fly out, huh?” you continued, still fiddling with his hands.

rafe grunted, his baseball cap slipping forward onto his face.

you frowned, bending his index finger back just enough to startle him. “are you listening?”

“yes! fuck, leave my fingers alone, you brat.” he snatched his hand out of your grasp, shifting his hat back to sit properly on his head. “and to answer your question, because I was listening - no, I’ll just drive down.”

your eyes widened. “from huntsville? that’s going to take hours!”

rafe sighed. “no, I’ll be at my dad’s the week before. easier to drive.”

“you’re going home this summer?”

rafe didn’t really “go home” - at least, not the way you did. you looked forward to summers in your savannah home, having wine nights with your mom and barbecuing with your dad, relishing the time at home with your high school friends.

rafe only went home when he had to, his strained relationship with his father and stepmom making things less-than-pleasant when he would return to the outer banks for a couple weeks. he didn’t visit at all last summer, opting to split his time between your parents home and his place in huntsville.

rafe sighed again, deep & heavy. “yeah. I’ve got this...thing.”

you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “what thing?”

“it’s...god, it’s some stupid event my family goes to every year. basically a pissing contest to see who’s family is the most successful.” rafe removes his hat, rubbing his hand over his face. “my dad likes to win.”

you offered him a pout, going to rub your hand against his chin, letting your thumb run along the stubble that was coming in. “you have to go?”

rafe nodded. “yeah, I skipped last year only because I promised my dad I would come this year - wheez is 16, so it’s kinda a big year for her.” he gave a weak smile at the mention of his youngest sister. “sarah’s gonna be there too.”

“see! it’ll be worth it then. couple days with your sisters and then you can come hang with me and my fam in hilton head.” you nuzzled into his chest. “a tour of the carolinas.”

“I was actually hoping you would come with me.”

you popped your head up, eyes wide. “me?”

rafe rolled his eyes, “yes you. sarah’s bringing her boyfriend. figure it’s time for you to see where I grew up.”

and that’s how you found yourself flying up to the outer banks for a long weekend, a couple of gown options tucked away in your checked luggage, bikinis stowed in your carryon - you spent the whole flight fidgeting, beyond nervous about what was to come.

you had met ward a couple times - a little intimidating, and relatively unimpressed by anything rafe did. you didn’t mind that rafe didn’t go see him much - it always seemed to put him in this dark, sullen mood, one that could take days to pull him out of.

you were hoping to make it out of the weekend with minimal conflict between the father-son pair.

rafe was waiting at arrivals when you waltzed outside, grinning at the sight of your tan boyfriend leaning against his Jeep. you dropped your bags on the curb, opting to tackle him into a hug instead, giggling when he had to brace himself for impact.

“hi baby - missed you too.” he laughed, hands going to rest on your hips. “need help with those?” he gave a pointed look to your massive suitcases. you just smiled, offering him a quick kiss before flouncing into his passenger seat, letting him handle the heavy lifting.

your first interaction with the family at tannyhill (apparently rafe lived in a place where homes were old enough to have their own estate names) was mild - ward was charming, in his typical slimy way, rose offered you a grimace, before clacking away in her heels to “take a call,” and wheezie had barely let rafe slip into the foyer with your suitcases before she was asking him to buy her alcohol for some party later that night.

when you and rafe made it safely to the confines of his bedroom, he attempted to apologize.

“rafe, you don’t have to apologize.” you laughed, cupping his concerned face with your hands. “families are...well, you know.” you scrunched your eyebrows, trying to search for the right word. “family.”

rafe laughed, grabbing your wrists. “very insightful.”

the next day, rafe had a fitting, which you accompanied him to (your other option was pretending to make nice with rose while laying out at the pool - hard pass), giggling at his clear disdain for the whole situation.

“it’s so fucking stupid, babe.” he groaned for what had to be the tenth time that car ride, pulling into a spot in front of the tailors. “I probably have 50 suits I could wear, but god forbid I don’t match rose’s fucking color scheme.” he snapped his seat belt off, a hint of aggression peeking through.

you nodded, following him out of the car. “hey, if it makes you feel better, she’ll hate me more than you. I didn’t bring anything that matches the Cameron “color scheme.””

rafe turned to give you a look, hand blindly reaching for the door. “no one could hate you. you could wear a sack and people would adore you.”

you pulled a face. “shut up, you have to say that shit.”

“maybe, but it’s -“

“mr. cameron, here for the 2:30 appointment?” a tall, slim man appeared in front of y’all, tape measure around his neck.

rafe tugged on his shirt collar, letting out a small groan. “uh, yeah. that’s me.”

the man gave him a glance, before offering you a glare. “right, well, follow me. back here.”

you settled into a chair at the front of the store, fucking around on your phone. an hour went by before rafe emerged from the back, head peeking around the corner.

“hey babe!” you gingerly removed yourself from the chair, back stiff from your stationary position. “all done?”

rafe nodded, “yeah, I’ve gotta change out of it, but it’s ready to take home.”

you scrambled to your feet. “wait! let me see!”

rafe groaned, quickly looking behind him to see if the tailor was near by, before slowly emerging from around the corner. “it’s pretty fucking terrible.” he groaned.

you, on the other hand, were awestruck - there was your boyfriend, with his stache and overgrown hair, in all of his 6’3”, offseason bulked out glory, wearing a baby blue suit.

it should have been hilarious - but you were fucking salivating over it.

“uh, no it’s not.” you argued, walking up to grab the lapels of his jacket. “how the fuck do you make baby blue look this good?”

rafe grimaced. “babe, it’s awful. don’t lie.”

“oh really?” you smirked, peeking over his shoulder towards the empty dressing room. you started to walk backwards in that direction, tugging his hand as you gave him your best bedroom eyes. “why don’t you come in here and let me show you how much I like it.”

“babe!” rafe hissed, his head whirled to the left, checking to see if the tailor was in the vicinity, before looking back at you with raised eyebrows. “really?”

you nodded, biting your lip. “oh yeah, baby. never told me you were such a pretty boy.”

rafe grumbled, following you into the dressing room. “I’ll fuckin’ show you a pretty boy - c’mere.”

the next day, while waiting to take pictures with the cameron family, ward approached you and rafe at the wet bar, extending cocktails to you both.

you gratefully accepted, sucking down what tasted like a heavy handed greyhound, the vodka sitting in the back of your throat as ward barked instructions at rafe.

“we’re going to do the family first, rafe, and then we can get john and - what the fuck is that?”

you glanced up at the change in ward’s tone, straw slipping out from between your lips as ward tugged rafe’s shirt collar to expose a hickey, the deep purple spreading towards his collarbone.

“dad,” he started, knocking ward’s hand away to readjust his collar. “it’s-“

“rose!” ward yelled, turning away from rafe. “can you please come fix...this!” ward gestured at rafe wildly with his hand, throwing a glare at the two of you.

you were rigid, hand white-knuckling your drink, unsure what exactly to do in this situation.

“relax dad,” sarah huffed, grabbing her clutch as she pushed her way over to where y’all were standing. “c’mon, idiot, I’ve got something that can cover that up.” she rolled her eyes, poking at his neck.

rafe smacked her hand away. “quit.”

sarah ignored her brother, poking it once more before directing her attention to you. “what are you, part vampire?” she giggled, tugging your arm with her as she started up the stairs towards her room. “c’mon rafe,” she called out, voice almost singing. “gotta go cover up the evidence! people can’t know you have sex!”

you burst out laughing as at least three scandalized voices behind you yelled “sarah!”, rafe’s separate groan audible as he followed the two of you.

sarah leaned over as y’all entered her bedroom, voice whispering in your ear, “tux’s don’t hide shit - that’s why I usually go for the chest on john b,” she giggled.

you nodded, as if learning a deep and sacred practice - well, you supposed you kinda were.

“also,” she whispered, ignoring rafe’s call from behind to “stop corrupting his girlfriend,” and continuing, “third stall, men’s bathroom at the country club - doesn’t lock. learn from my mistakes. family bathroom is gonna be your best bet.”

“are you - are you scouting places for me to hook up with your brother tonight?” you hissed.

sarah shrugged, leading you into her room. “well, what else is there to do at midsummers?” she gave a grin, like the cat that got the cream. “john b and I call the golf restrooms.” she pushed your shoulders down, settling you to the bed, before turning her attention to her brother, who was sulking in the doorway.

“rafe! let me fix your hickey, you heathen!”

#rafe cameron #coho!rafe #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.35

Sacrifices to Save the World

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 9,582

Warnings: smut, LOTS of fluff, angst

A/N: (THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! One more to go!) Here it is everyone! The moment I have been waiting for. I can’t really say much and I don’t want to give anything away so, I’ll just let the chapter speak for itself. I also want to say that I’m sorry that I haven’t been as diligent about responding to comments. Trust me when I say that I read and reread them often! I appreciate your thoughts and reactions so much. As always, if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work!

Tags are closed!

Please DO NOT repost my stories. Reblogs are MOST welcome!

You bustle around the cottage sweeping cat hair and dust, mixing the white of the chalk dust with the crimson blood of Grandmother’s sacrificial cat.

Your attempts to tidy the space is wasted as you’re only making it worse, but rather than focus on her words you prefer to clean.

She watches you from the seat at her table where you placed her. A cup of water gripped in her withered hand, still trembling slightly.

“Stop cleaning, girl!” Grandmother chides, watching you with annoyance as you stop amongst the mess on her floor and throw your hands out to your sides in a clear indication of not understanding.

“What would you have me do?” You ask her, voice tight with distress. “You tell me that my husband will fight to his death and I am supposed to what? Dance?”

“Just sit down.” She points at the seat across from her, her finger crooked and weak.

You drop the broom where you stand and plop yourself down on the indicated seat while ignoring the creak of the weathered wood. The old woman would resist new furnishings though you’d managed to sneak in a new bed and kitchenware.

“You killed your cat.” You tell her, as if she doesn’t know.

“Yes.” She agrees and lifts the small cup to her lips to take a drink.

“Why?”

“I had to see.” She explains. “Something was…was there.”

“When I found you outside Steve’s office?” You check, though you know her answer.

“Yes.” With a sigh she captures your gaze and does not release it. “I have sensed a darkness growing in the world. Something elusive. Hidden. It has kept its face secret, behind that of puppets. It uses others to do its bidding and until today I had no idea what that bidding was.

“He is gathering six relics. Stones. Rich in magic properties. Richer than any other relics I have ever come across. Each of them with powers more terrifying than the last.”

“What kind of powers?” You ask her, voice feeble and wispy.

“Powers to control time. Power to manipulate the mind and the very fabric of space and reality.” She warns. “Powers to rule the world…or wipe it from existence.”

Your heart grows cold, slipping into the pit of your stomach as you picture Steve in his armor standing before such massive power. What could your warrior husband do in the face of such might?

“Who is he?” You ask her, eager to put a face to the threat.

“I don’t know.” She says, looking down at the necklace that always rests around your neck. The locket that is Steve’s insignia, with his picture along with your parents. “I cannot see his face. I can only feel him. He is stronger than the king. Stronger than many of those who fight here. Together they may defeat him, but I did not see them together. I saw only your husband, the bodies of those you love surrounded him, and he fell too.”

You get up, unwilling to let her convince you despite you having already accepted her words. “I cannot listen to this.”

“You must, girl. You must take heed of what I tell you and prepare yourself for what is to come. Take your daughter and go as far away from here as possible but even that may not save you.” She adds as an afterthought. “I feel this evil plans for more than death. He has such a will.”

Turning to her you consider her thoughtful expression and the way she seems lost to her vision. She believes it with every fiber of her being and your own heart is swayed into panic as you throw yourself onto your knees at her feet.

Gripping the hand she has resting on her lap, you raise it to your breast and hold it there to where your heart is pounding.

“There must be something you can do. Something that will save him.” You reason, pleading for her to see reason as if she held the very fate of Steve within her old hands. “Won’t you try?”

“I cannot.” She shakes her head. “Such magics are forbidden. I am no dark witch.”

Her insistence is fractured, her own eyes betray her as she eyes you up and then turns away.

Her fondness is clear. You know that she loves you despite the way she speaks to you at times. She has fought hard for your happiness. If you would beg for her life, you think she might give it up.

“Is there no way? Nothing? Surely there is a chance to change things without resorting to dark magics? Please, Grandmother…” Before you know what’s happening, you’re crying.

Tears flow freely across your cheeks but your voice is strong in the only way that it can be when you’re pleading for your husband’s life.

“I cannot live in a world where my husband is not alive. Please…help me. Help me save him. There must be a way. There must be…please. We just had our daughter…” You lay your head in her lap, overcome with fear at this future she’s seen. “Please.”

Her silence is heavy. You can feel her thinking, can feel her mind searching for a way to give you what you want.

You have always loved this old woman but until today, you had not considered how much she might truly love you as one would a true granddaughter.

“Give me time.” She sighs.

“You’ll try?!” You gasp, your heart soaring.

With an elated sob you drop your head onto her lap and with gentle, feeble hands, she strokes the back of your head.

“I will think on it. I will try. I cannot make any promises.” She warns you, reaching under your chin to draw your gaze up. “What you ask for will not be easy. Is he worth it?”

You blink, confused by her question because in your mind there is absolutely no doubt.

“He’s worth more. He’s worth everything.” You nod. “I love him.”

Grandmother’s gaze withers and she releases you, nudging you away.

“Go. Be with your husband and child. Let me ponder.” She orders and slowly you rise.

You’re so stunned you have to keep a hand on the table as you rise to keep your knees buckling.

“When will you know?” You ask her, sniffling from the tears you shed.

“Go.” She orders again, staring at the hem of your dress. “And change your dress. You’re covered in blood.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing still, you hold tight to the lower left post of your bed as your corset is laced again.

The copper tub by the roaring fire in your bedroom sits lukewarm, full pink and wine-colored peony blooms floating within its oiled surface.

“Why was there blood on your dress?” Natasha wonders, tugging tight on your laces making you gasp.

“It’s not important.” You tell her, then think better of keeping her completely in the dark. “There was a dead cat on the way to Grandmother’s and I didn’t realize it until I came upon it.”

Fuck, was that believable? Does she trust you enough to accept your words without doubt?

“You’re keeping something from me.” She counters, frowning as she ties the corset closed.

Apparently not.

“I’m not.” You argue, but after her silence pierces your soul, you sigh. “I’m worried.”

“About Hydra?” She asks, supplying you with an appropriate alternative to the truth.

“Of course.” You grasp onto this straw and lean your stress onto this very real threat. “The last time I was within their vicinity someone tried to kill me and Maggie.”

“That won’t happen again.” Natasha assures you, moving towards you with a long ivory gown. The slightly yellowish tinge to the flowing fabric is pretty, though you note this in the back of your head. You’re too preoccupied with the threats looming overhead to notice how pretty the dress is. “I should have stayed with you.”

“It wasn’t your fault Nat. Pierce knew what he was doing. He’d been to father’s many times and he knew that I’d be in that part of the castle. He knew that you’d all be focused elsewhere. He was going to find a way to me one way or another.” You reason, but you know that if Peter or Nat had been there with you, there would have been a better chance of getting away with greater speed.

“I will never leave your side again.” Nat declares passionately but you huff a laugh and turn to look at her as she gathers up the skirt of your dress, hooking her arms through it to make ready for you to wear.

“Nat,” You smile. “I love you, and maybe you’re right and things would have been better if you or someone else had been by my side that night. But you cannot be beside me always. You’re a wife now. And even if you cannot be a mother naturally, there are many other ways to have children.”

Nat drops her arms, watching you with a concerned and furrowed brow. She’s clearly focused on you and not herself. You want to remedy that quickly. You love her, how can you allow her to only ever let you be her concern?

“You two must have discussed it?” You prompt, knowing that Bucky would not give up on giving Nat what she most desperately desires. “I know you want to be a mother. You love children.”

She seems to realize that you are not about to let this drop, so she sighs, relaxing a bit.

“I have thought about it.” She nods. “And yes, I do love children but I’m not sure if it’s right for me with the life that Bucky and I lead.”

Your heart aches suddenly, a renewal of Grandmother’s words reminding you that your daughter could lose her father. She so damn right about that.

“I don’t blame you.” You nod, sitting yourself on the end of the bed. “This life that all of you have chosen is one most unwelcome to the traditional family. But it is possible. Father and Mother have Morgana, Lord and Lady Lang have their daughter. Steve and I now have Margaret.

“It may not be ideal, certainly. But possible.” You offer in encouragement.

You don’t want her to give up. You want her to be happy.

Nat looks down at your stocking covered feet and nods.

“You don’t have to. Of course, it is entirely your choice and Bucky’s. I’m not trying to say that you should have children. But if you should you choose to have them, it is possible to live both lives.�� You really hope that you’re not putting any pressure on her to raise a child when she might not want to.

Natasha’s inability to have children naturally should not be a hindrance on her desire to be a mother if she should decide to try. There are thousands of children in orphanages across the Kingdoms that would benefit greatly from a loving home that you know Bucky and Nat would provide effortlessly.

At the end of the day however, you know it is their choice.

“I appreciate your support.” Nat admits, gathering your skirts again and then holding them open for you to put your head through. “Truly. It means so much to me that you think I could do a good job. As a mother.”

You stand and stick your head through the dress and begin to pull your arms through the large puffed sleeves as Natasha straightens your skirt.

The neckline is ruffled, heart shaped, and low. The sleeves are also ruffled, small cinches that wrap around your arm mid-bicep leaving your shoulders and neckline exposed. Nat turns you and quickly laces up the back of the dress. She pulls it tight so that there is no chance of it slipping down.

“Isn’t this a little-?”

“You look beautiful.” Natasha smiles, fixing a long pink sash around your waist that she ties into a long loose bow above the curve of your bum. “Shall I braid your hair again?”

Natasha’s hands work fast, her fingers nimble and familiar with your hair’s texture and flow. The skirt is so long and flowing that you wonder if something special has been planned for you to attend as you feel that despite the somewhat casual look of the dress, it also doubles as pretty in that formal sense.

Your fingers find the embroidered pink and white peonies on the bodice that decorate your breast.

“Am I seeing someone special today?” You ask.

“No.” Natasha smiles. “Just us. Lunch is being served in the garden for you, Margaret, and Steve. Bucky and I shall be nearby. Peter will be close too. No one special.”

You huff a laugh as she lists all of the most precious people in your life. “So, only those special to me then?”

Nat chuckles and finishing tying off your hair.

“Lunch is for you, Steve, and Maggie. Steve expressed a wish to spend some quiet time alone with the two of you. He knows he’s been busy the past few weeks racing about chasing leads on this new Hydra weapon. He wants to make it up to you and I know he’d appreciate you in this dress.”

Her explanation makes sense but you’re successfully distracted from the dress by the mention of Hydra.

“How was the search?” You suddenly wonder, remembering Steve’s orders for her and Bucky.

“We’ve spread the word and will go out again tonight to search. I’ll tell you if anyone is found.”

“I’d like to know what’s happening with this.” You turn to her, adjusting within her grip as she reaches down to fuss with your dress. “I need to know, Nat. I can’t be kept in the dark again.”

Natasha drops her hands, placing them on her hips as she considers the look in your eyes.

“You’re not saying something.” She realizes. “What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, a shrug thrown her way just to brush off the concern. “I just don’t want any surprises. Not like before. This threat seems insignificant but what if there’s more to this mysterious weapon? I want to know what you’re all walking into.”

“Steve has promised to keep you appraised.” Nat promises you. “I will hold him to his word.”

Slowly, as the truth of her words shines through her eyes, a small smile stretches your lips.

“Thanks, Nat.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As you approach your renovated pavilion, peony blossoms blooming all around in varying shades of pink, you adjust Maggie in your arms.

You’re careful with your own dress. Double-checking the top of your bodice to make sure for the tenth time that you are covered after feeding your daughter. Nat made sure it was tight again but you’re fretting is ceaseless as a mother now.

The corset you’re wearing made especially for you since you are nursing, makes it easy for you to feed her without much fuss. Steve seems to favor it too though you’ve told him to be gentle and he’s avoided enjoying your breasts while you’re focused on raising your little one.

Aside from a loving caress and gentle butterfly kisses when the two of you make love, he’s avoided touching them.

Reaching the stairs, you fix your daughter’s dress—changed to match yours with endless ruffles but the same peony embroidery pattern on her little chest and pink sash around her little waist.

Steve rises quickly, rushing towards you with his arms extended.

Maggie coos excitedly, her little high-pitched squeaks and goos nearly make you swoon as she kicks her little legs excitedly. She’s not exactly screaming yet, but her noises are long and eager.

“There’s my princess.” Steve says proudly, his eyes flooding with love as he takes her into his large arms and kisses her chubby cheek.

He turns her to sit with her little back pressed against his chest and smiles at you while your own eyes are glued to your daughter.

“And my beautiful Queen.” He gushes, pulling your attention away from Maggie as he leans down slowly until he meets your lips with a long slow peck. “How are you?”

His voice is soft and deep. “I’m very well.”

It’s almost a lie.

In this moment, here with Steve and Maggie, you are most definitely well. You’re happy and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Your heart still weighs a ton with Grandmother’s news.

For a terrible moment as Steve walks away from you to sit down with Maggie on his lap, you remember her words and your knees almost buckle.

With him focused on the little one, you manage to sit yourself down before he can notice.

Rapid footsteps climb the stairs behind you. You turn to find Peter moving in to stand beside you both. He smiles excitedly as he watches Maggie. He, like everyone else in the castle, is head over heels for her.

No one draws a smile quicker than Maggie, even from the gentry that had so readily spread rumors about you.

This makes you happy. Your daughter accepted.

“Cook will be out with your meals shortly, your Majesties.” He informs you both.

“Won’t you join us?” You ask him, but Peter meets Steve’s eyes for a moment then reaches up to scratch behind his head, his cheeks flushing pink.

Clearly Steve had made it clear that he wanted to spend time with you and Maggie alone to more than just Nat. However, there’s something else in that rosy tint in Peter’s cheeks.

“I…I’m actually meeting Morgana in the libraries to help her with her studies. I will cancel with her if you wish me to stay?” He offers, though you see the disappointment in his eyes.

“No.” You hurry to assure him. “No, we’re fine. I just wanted to be sure you ate.”

“Thank you, your Majesty. I believe Cook is sending sandwiches to the library for us.” Peter bows and with an excitement in his step you watch him until he’s out of sight.

“They make a good match.” You smile, turning to take a sip of water from the silver goblet before you.

“Who?” Steve asks, confused. He bounces his leg to keep Maggie occupied while allowing her to hold his finger in her tight tiny fist. She drags it to her mouth and bites it with her gums, yet Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

“Peter and Morgana.”

“Peter and your sister?” Steve asks in shock. “But…she’s so young.”

“She’s fifteen, going on sixteen.” You remind him. “If they are engaged this year that will still leave them with two years of courtship before they’re married. That is the custom in Malibia.

She’ll be eighteen by then and Peter will be twenty-four. Some people would say those are two ages perfect for marrying.”

Despite the pleasant picture you paint, Steve’s frown only grows.

“What?” You chuckle, reaching into your skirts to find the pocket where you’d placed a few small towels for Maggie’s constant drooling.

You offer Steve the towel but he’s still frowning? No…he’s pouting! You get up and move around to wipe her chin before placing the towel in Steve’s hand.

“Why are you pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.” Steve grumbles.

It makes you laugh again. “Steve…”

“Maggie will not be getting engaged until she’s at least twenty.” He suddenly declares. “I’ll lock her up in the West tower until she’s that age and only then will I allow her to entertain the idea of a suitor.”

“Are you worried that you’ll only have her for sixteen years?” You chuckle, watching the worry in his eyes as he cradles Maggie closer, stroking her rounded cheeks with gentle thumbs.

“She’s mine right now.” Steve laments, looking down at her as she continues to chew on his finger. “I don’t want to part with her. I’ve waited so long for her for some boy to come take her from me.”

“Oh, my darling.” You chuckle but this time with full sympathy for his heartbreak. “We will have lots of time with her. And even after she marries, she will always be our daughter.”

Steve’s eyes are glued to her little face and he completely doesn’t notice Cook come up to serve your meal. A few roast chickens with potatoes and carrots.

You eat in silence but quickly. Enjoying the sight of him growing more and more enamored with your daughter. Steve doesn’t seem to notice the time slip by as he distracts her with the towel you’d handed him.

She chatters about nothing in her baby speak, drawing smiles and chuckles from your husband.

Finally, you eat your last carrot and slide your chair back.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, rising to your feet knowing you have no reason to be sorry. He’s so in love with her. Luckily, you’ve still managed to eat fast enough that the food is still warm for him. “I should hire a maid to watch her when we eat.”

It’s true that you’ll eventually need to hire someone to take care of her when you must deal with kingdom affairs too. You’re so reluctant to let someone else care for her. Just as Steve claims her passionately, you feel just as he does. She’s yours.

“Not yet.” Steve counters, letting you take her from him. He adjusts in his chair, wipes his hand then proceeds to eat, stealing glances at both of you as you move towards the benches that line the inner edge of the pavilion.

Everything is so perfect. So lovely.

You’re almost content in this moment, with your little girl in your arms and Steve sharing a meal with you. You’re very nearly happy until you look at him and like a raging storm Grandmother’s words destroy your fragile peace once more.

Steve is going to die.

He turns to you and smiles. He smiles at Maggie. He confesses his love for you both with it pouring from his eyes and while your heart aches, you vow to do anything to stop this new threat from taking him away.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come to bed.” Steve pleads.

You glance at him through your looking glass, a hazy image because of the distance from your small table to the bed. The silver is in need of polishing or perhaps replacing. You don’t dare speak this thought aloud though.

Knowing Steve, he’d simply buy you a wall full of mirrors and you can’t have that.

Even blurry he’s a vision, an absolute fucking sight to behold with your daughter at the center of your bed his fingers tickling her tummy as she kicks her little legs excitedly. Her little hands absentmindedly stroking his arm.

He’s on his side, shirtless. His lower body hidden beneath the sheets of your bed as he lays naked underneath.

Despite that delectable fact, your eyes are glued to his gentle smile as he takes his hand and gently strokes the length of Maggie’s little nose. He’s noticed how that lulls her to sleep and does it to her every night to send her off when he’s not busy in meetings.

You finish tending to your hair, braiding it back once again to keep out of the way for your little one. When you turn in your seat to look at them, you find Maggie’s movements slowed. Her eyes are closing, little rosebud lips left open slightly.

She’s already fed and content. Your happy baby, so protected and cherished.

Despite his attentions to your daughter that you’ve spent the last ten minutes watching, when you look at him you find Steve’s eyes on you.

“Come to bed.” He urges you, a small twinkle of desire hidden in the tranquility of these moments he spends with Maggie but stares at you.

“Are you trying for a second?” You ask him, teasing as you rise and move to the bed. You know that look well by now.

Steve’s expression suddenly shift, concern etched across his face.

“Am I rushing you?” He asks, reaching for you as you kneel on the bed and gather your nightdress up so as not to trip on it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s thinking of this morning, already having had you in his den.

Since you’d given birth, he’s been so careful with you. Even when you’d assured him you were ready to be intimate with him again, he’d hesitated. Worried about hurting you or rushing your body into doing things you should not be doing.

Your smile only grows, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you settle in on Maggie’s right. She doesn’t even stir. Steve’s hand remains around your forearm, fingers gently caressing your skin.

“Why do you laugh?” He asks, his mouth perking at the corners despite his worry.

“You are not like any man I’ve ever met or heard of.” You confess. “Some of the women in Bright Rise, when they still spoke with me, would tell me about their husbands. They were like you were at the beginning of our marriage. Worse, as they took without care for their wives’ wishes. Some of them were always pregnant now that I think about it. Always trailed by a line of toddlers and children.

“The men didn’t care about their wives’ bodies or how their need to satiate their hungers affected the other.” You shake your head. “Some of the women even confessed to me that they took on lovers to find the enjoyment in fucking again.”

“Something you would have been forced to do had I continued in my foolish ways.” Steve suggests, unphased by your still somewhat rural tongue.

“Maybe…in the future. It would have taken me years of neglect to get to that point.” You nod, “Even with Thor, his touch was…unwelcome. He didn’t force me, but I did not feel right accepting his affections. I’m married. Even unhappy that wasn’t something I took lightly.”

Steve’s hand moves up to the top of your arm then slowly he drags it down to your wrist.

“Were you always this considerate? I mean, before me?” You wonder, looking deep into his storm blue eyes. “Say with Margaret? Or, perhaps the other women you were with before we married?”

Steve turns, laying himself on his back.

He releases your arm and gently strokes the length of his chest, fingers dancing across the tuft of blonde hair that rails all the way down below where the blanket ends at his waist. His other hand he shoves underneath his head as he thinks.

You wait patiently for him to be ready to speak. You’ve never asked him about his habits with other women in bed.

He steals several quick looks your way which tells you he’s nervous about answering you. Wary, in case it should prompt a fight. You can see the moment he decides to give in. His lips part a little, they stutter, then he speaks.

“Margaret was strong.” He states plainly, as if that explains it all.

You wait.

“Not that you aren’t!” He rushes to say, sitting up as gently as he can to keep from waking your daughter.

Maggie still stirs and whimpers. You place your hand on her chest and soothe her until she stills again.

“Can you put her in her bed?” You begin to sit up too, ready to do it yourself but Steve is faster, rushing so that you won’t have to.

“Of course! I’ll get her.” He gently scoops her up into his arms then quickly moves around to your side of the bed as you follow them with your eyes, turning your body as they go.

Gently he places her in her crib and tucks her in, shushing and soothing her as she complains then goes silent once more.

She isn’t too close, but you can still see her from your spot on the bed. Steve double checks by looking at you to see if you can still see her.

When he’s satisfied that you can, he moves back to you, crawling over you and stopping to give the tip of your nose a kiss as he goes before plopping himself down on his side once again. This time he reaches for you, grabby hands tracing the shape of your curves as he pulls you a little closer.

“What I meant, is that Margaret was willful. She knew what she wanted, and she made certain that everyone else knew so too.” He clears his throat, suddenly nervous again. “In bed, she was just as certain of herself.

“Even though I made the first move, she was the one who took charge in our physical relationship. I knew that if something were to go wrong or if she was tired or too ill to be with me intimately, she would tell me.”

You listen without judgement and try to keep your face clear of all emotions other than the love you have for him. Even through this conversation, your heart pounds with dread as it repeats Grandmother’s words over and over, reminding you that every moment with Steve is precious.

“I never had to worry about Margaret’s body because she never had to compromise it for me. I did worry for her, but not in the same way.” Steve says, probably thinking about the risks that Margaret would have taken as part of the Avengers.

“And the other women?” You wonder.

“There weren’t many.” Steve assures you, looking down at your chest in embarrassment. “Only two.”

“You were grieving Margaret.” You nod, understanding. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t a man.”

Steve is silent for a moment, resting his head in his hand as he uses his elbow to prop himself up. With his other hand he traces nervous circles in the blanket between you.

“They were visiting ladies. Ladies who, like Margaret, knew what they wanted.” Steve sighs the lunges softly towards you, pushing you onto your back so suddenly it makes you gasp and then laugh.

As he settles his body halfway over yours, he smiles down at you.

His hands caress the sides of your face before he trails one hand along your sides, grabbing you with intent. You can feel the desire in his touch.

“Court ladies are all playing a game. It’s a language they speak that you don’t know.” Steve sighs heavily. “A set of rules that I’m glad you do not understand. You are nothing like them and I love you for it.”

“They had husbands?” You realize.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “Men who are too distracted by their own infidelities or too busy grasping at power to pay their wives any mind. With both of them it was only one night. It came and went so quickly I can barely remember them. I don’t even think I could tell you their names.”

His face grows solemn, sad as if remembering a painful memory that has since lost its sting but not the emotion of sorrow. “I didn’t enjoy myself. I was driven by lust, but I didn’t even…I made sure they were satisfied and left it at that.”

“Mm. You felt guilty.” You nod, understanding as you watch his full lips. The lower is so much bigger than the upper. You reach up and trace it, loving the soft plumpness of it.

“Does it not make you jealous?” He wonders, relaxing more of his weight onto you. “Does it not upset you?”

You meet his eyes again, a smile stretched across your face. You can see that he wants to know you’re jealous. He wants to know that you want him as much as he wants you.

So much progress…is this truly the man you married?

“Only as much as it would upset any wife to hear her beloved husband talk about his past adventures in fucking other women.”

Steve groans and buries his face into the side of your neck, wrapping his arms around you as you also wrap yours around his shoulders. You chuckle, caressing the back of his head.

“So, the concern is not normal?” You realize, feeling better but also worried that you’re not seeing the real Steve. That maybe he’s acting this way with you while acting a completely different way with everyone else.

Is this not who he is?

“No, the concern is normal.” Steve says, muffled against your skin, making you feel almost instantly better.

He pulls back to look down at you again.

“What I’m saying is that every woman that I have been with until you has never given me cause to be concerned. I didn’t hurt them the way I hurt you.” He frowns. “I didn’t take what they weren’t willing to give.”

You look away this time, the solemnity coming from you now. The shift of conversation making your heart ache. When you speak, your voice is quiet, subdued with the reminder of your wedding night.

“I wasn’t unwilling.” You correct him because you hadn’t been. Not that first night or any night after.

Your line was not one clearly drawn, certainly. You’d slept with him out of duty but that hadn’t meant you didn’t want to. He’s the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life. Of course, you’d wanted him.

You hadn’t told him no. You’d only told him to slow down. You know that for him, for Nat, for everyone who found out—that slow down had been enough. It should have been enough to stop him.

“You know what I mean.” Steve says, placing both his hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back until you look at him. “I wounded you. I took something that was not mine to take.”

“But it was yours to take.” You correct him again, and he growls in his throat at you before shaking his head, the pain leaving his eyes to be replaced by admiration.

“I can still feel you, trembling and sobbing in my arms. I was disgusted with myself. I couldn’t believe that I could do that to anyone. And you were so…so kind and gentle. So eager to please and I took advantage of that.” Steve confesses. All of his thoughts spilling out of him like water. “I had turned this beautiful, sweet princess into a sobbing, fearful, and wounded creature. I was so consumed by my grief over Margaret and my anger at having to marry again when I wasn’t ready to do so that I wanted it over. In that moment, I didn’t care about the sweet woman beneath me.

“And even after I hurt you, when I came to see you, despite your fear your only concern was for the tears I shed.”

It takes a moment to find your voice, but you do. You swallow hard.

“I’d never seen a man cry.” You confess. “Much less a king.”

“I meant every tear.” Steve insists. “If I could take that night back, I would. If I could redo every night since, I would. I am concerned for you above anyone else, because in you I saw my darkest self and I never want to be that man for you again. I never want to hurt you.”

The two of you lapse into emotional but pleasant silence. Both hearts beating strongly against each other as his chest is pressed firmly against your own.

At last, you smile, a chuckle spilling from your lips as you reach up and tuck his hair behind his ear. It’s getting long again.

“Have you always made these long speeches? Or is that reserved for me as well?” You check, mostly just teasing.

Steve’s lips curl up, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I make sure to give every pretty woman I see a lengthy speech. Whether they’re enjoyable is a different matter.”

You bite your lip, glaring at him but only in jest. Quickly he dips down to kiss your lips, letting it linger for a moment before he pulls back only a bit so that when he speaks, his lips are fluttering against your own.

“My declarations of love, however, are entirely yours alone.” He whispers. “Tell me to stop and I will obey, my Queen.”

His right hand moves down, searching until it finds the hem of your nightdress which he begins to tug up until he finds the top of your leg. He traces the dip of flesh there, tickling your skin in search of your already yearning core.

As his fingers make contact, you gasp into his slightly open mouth and it draws his attention back up to your face. He licks your lips, just a gentle flick of the tip of his tongue before he kisses you, sinking it into your depths where you meet his eager kiss with your own.

You moan quietly, a whimper of yearning as his fingers spread your folds and begin to explore you. The noises his hand makes absolutely sinful.

Eager for his touch, you bring your knees up. You spread your legs for him, and he pulls out of the kiss to slide down along your body. He does down, down, down until he’s settled between your legs.

He grabs one and throws it over his left shoulder, then the other over his right. He kisses your thighs, trailing his tongue in small circles before every gentle pucker. The anticipation curls your toes as he moves closer and closer to your cunt.

“Steve…” You whisper, aware of the baby asleep in her crib and your need to keep quiet so that she can sleep.

He dives in, his tongue making one long swipe of your dripping core.

You gasp, curling up towards him as your body is sent into shivers.

He grabs hold of your thighs roughly, pulling you hard against his face. Opening his mouth, he suckles on your clit, the gentle sound of his sucking filling your limbs with fire.

As much as you enjoy his mouth where it is, there’s an impatience that wages war within you.

After months of waiting to enjoy sleeping with him, now that you do, it makes you eager to have him within you.

“Steve, please…” You beg, reaching down and tugging on his hair.

He likes that, growling a little at the lusty whisper that is your plea.

Pressing kisses along the length of your body while he shoves your nightdress up higher and higher, he finally helps you pull it off before taking your breasts within his mouth.

His lips are soft against them, gentle in their suckling as he knows how painful you can find it now.

When you whimper from the soreness, he steals a quick look at you to make sure you aren’t in too much pain before he simply kisses them around the nipple.

You run your hand over his hair, a promise that someday he’ll be able to enjoy your breasts again. He reads your reassurance but dismisses it as he rushes to meet your lips in a demanding kiss.

Without warning he pushes into you. He stretches you, filling you up so pleasantly that you throw your head back but swallow the moan you’d normally release.

Fuck…Your mind supplies, nails raking along the scarred flesh of his shoulders.

“Fuck…” Steve groans into your ear, stopping once he’s buried within you. Great minds think alike, you guess.

“Don’t stop.” You beg and wrap your left arm around his shoulders while the other reaches down as far as it can to grab as much of his bum as possible and pull him close.

He starts slowly, letting you both relish in the silky way his cock slides out of you then back in.

“Kiss me.” You tell him, needing his mouth to silence the moans you feel bound to make.

He obliges, roughly meeting your lips with a frenzied and lustful kiss as he loses himself within you.

He doesn’t pound into you the way he did at the cottage. He knows he shouldn’t, so he doesn’t. Even though you want it, you’re grateful for his forethought and instead focus on the way he seems to know which angles to adjust so that his cock not only pierces you but presses against the most sensitive spots inside of you.

He moves faster, reaching down to massage your clit as he kisses his way down your neck.

The moment is sudden, and it surprises you when your body goes tense for a moment as your climax washes over you.

You pull Steve down against you, gripping him hard as you hold him tight while your body is overcome.

Steve continues to push into you. Faster as he realizes that you’ve reached your limit. He grunts as he picks up speed, tracing the shape of your back down to your ass where he takes hold of it, fingers digging into the muscle.

He pulls up a little, searching for your lips with his own, tongue delving into your mouth as you give him what he wants. Both of you moan into each other, muffled and needy until Steve’s body stutters and his heat spills into you over and over.

He thrusts with each burst of ecstasy that overtakes him. His groans grow lazy. His body loose. Your own is already numb and you go still beneath him as he trails lazy kisses along the misty skin of your neck and shoulders.

He sighs, laying his head against your clavicle where he relaxes on top of you, your hands gently stroking his back.

You steal a glance at Maggie in her crib, but she’s sound asleep. It relaxes you to know she’s unbothered and without meaning to, you and Steve both fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A loud thumping makes you twitch. It sounds distant but it startles you anyway.

In your arms, something large moves.

Your sleepy mind reminds you that it’s Steve and you sigh in your semi-sleep as your hands enjoy the feel of his hot body still resting on top of your own.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The thumping returns, this time louder and clearer.

A quiet whine to your right wakes you more quickly than the thumping and like you’ve been stunned with Thor’s lightning, you spring up from the bed, quickly sliding out from beneath Steve who also whines at your moving but peeks up at you as you rise.

“Whereyewgoin?” He asks, still mostly asleep.

“Go back to sleep.” You whisper to him from beside Maggie’s crib.

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!

The thumping, which is actually a knocking on your door you realize, repeats.

Maggie whines again and you frown.

“Who’s there?” Steve asks towards the door, his voice more annoyed then upset.

“It’s Agatha, your Majesty.” One of the guards outside speaks.

“Don’t speak for me.” Grandmother’s voice grumbles.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty.” The guard says nervously, probably worried about the knocking, which means that was Grandmother and not the guard.

You look at Steve as Maggie begins to wake, her cries soft but rising as you continue to try and soothe her but now only halfheartedly.

Fear grips you, stealing you of your voice as you stare at your husband. Your little girl’s cries grow louder as she wakes but you’re frozen in place, terrified of what Grandmother could not wait until the morning to tell you.

“What, my flower?” Steve suddenly asks, sliding to the edge of the bed towards you.

“I…I should see what she wants.” You whisper, afraid to speak any louder despite your daughter already being awake.

“Go.” Steve urges you, grabbing your nightdress and moving towards you. He offers it to you as he reaches you. “I’ll put Maggie back to sleep.”

You take the nightdress with trembling hands. If Steve notices he doesn’t say so, but you don’t think he does as he’s already lifting Maggie from the crib, moving back towards the bed.

You dress in a hurry, then move to grab Steve’s robe as it’s closer and pull it over your body.

You’re tying it closed as the door opens upon your approach and find Grandmother pacing the hallway behind the two guards assigned to keep you and Maggie safe.

After what happened with Pierce, Steve is taking no chances.

“Grandmother?” You check, voice stronger but still just as terrified.

“We must speak.” She tells you, her voice strong and her eyes full of severity.

With a tentative nod you have her follow you into Steve’s den next door, shutting the door securely before you move into the room and offer her a seat in front of Steve’s desk.

“No.” She waves your offer off, pacing as you take a seat because your legs are weak again. “I have found a solution.”

“So quickly?” You gasp, hands balled into tight fists on your lap as you watch her pace.

“The sooner the better I would think in this situation. This is nothing like I have ever done before.” She admits. “It will take all of my power to do it.”

“It…will it hurt you?” You wonder, worried for her withered body.

“Probably not.” She shakes her head. “No way to know for sure. But it’s something I’m willing to die for.”

“What?” You gasp, suddenly terrified of losing her.

Finally, Grandmother stops her pacing and moves to stand before you.

“This threat is greater than I first thought.” She admits, slowly sitting herself down in the seat beside yours, turning it so that she can face you. “We cannot allow this power to grow. We can either stop it here, right now. Or we can let your husband stop it later. If we allow him to do it, it will take his life. There is no doubt in my mind of that. There will be others. He will not be the only to perish.

“Stopping this threat now is for everyone’s benefit and if I must pay with my life to save many others, I will do so willingly.” She declares.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, your emotions already raw.

“You’re not asking me, girl. I’m telling you that I must do it. I have already made my choice, now the only choice left to make is your own.” She fixes her gaze on you and you find you cannot look away.

“My own choice?”

“You asked me to save him. To ensure that he will live, a great sacrifice must be made. Separate from my own. I will provide the power, the strength for the incantation. Something else must be given for it to succeed.” Grandmother explains.

Your mind springs into action, thinking of the one thing you have of worth to give. Your life.

“So, I’ll…I’ll die?” You whisper, already in sorrow for leaving your husband and child.

“No.” Grandmother says. “No, I’m certain you will live.”

“Then what?”

“The price is impossible to know. It could be anything.” Grandmother gestures at you, looking you over from head to toe. “It could be your sight. Your ability to hear. Your voice. Your ability to walk. Whatever it is, it will be a great price to pay. Only you can choose to pay it but unless you do, I cannot go forward with the spell.”

“C-can I choose? Can I decide what it is that I sacrifice?” You hope, but what would you choose? What do you possibly have that could be worth your husband’s life?

“No. The magics will choose what to take. It will be equal to what it is you ask for, but only the magics can choose what that value is.” Grandmother explains.

This is impossible. This is unbelievable. This is torture.

You have to pay a price without knowing what it will be?

You know that your answer is yes. You’ll pay it. Whatever the price, you will give it willingly if it will save Steve’s life.

“I will pay it.” You nod. “Of course, I will. Yes.”

Grandmother takes your hand and squeezes it, a knowing look in her eyes. “I knew you would.”

She rises and you follow. Your hands feel weak but with the decision now made, you now it’s right and feel settled that you know this will soon be resolved.

Before the old woman can make it to the door, you reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her before she can leave.

“Grandmother…” You begin, waiting for her to turn.

She doesn’t. “Don’t get sentimental.” She says, voice strong though you’re sure that you can hear a small sadness in her tone.

“I want to thank you…for taking care of me. For loving me. I know that you could not always be there when I was young but you’re here now. Thank you.” You whisper, scared to speak louder in case you begin to cry. “I-I just wanted you to know. In case I cannot say it later or if you-”

You can’t even speak the words. She won’t die. She can’t.

With one withered hand, she reaches down and places it over your own. She gives you a squeeze, her hands trembling but reassuring.

“I don’t know when the spell will take effect. Go. Sleep soundly. Hold them close.” Grandmother advises then pushes your hand off her arm and disappears into the sleeping castle.

The very short walk back to your bedroom feels as if it takes forever. The guard make no comment as they open your door for you and you wander in, eyes searching for the loves of your life.

You find Steve snuggled up close to Maggie, his head pressed against the side of her own, his hand on her tummy and his eyes closed.

Maggie is not sleeping. She’s staring up at the ceiling with her little legs kicking gently as she coos and babbles her baby speak. One of her little hands is closed tightly around Steve’s finger, holding tight. As you move towards them, you notice how her hand doesn’t even close around his finger completely. She’s so small still. So fragile.

What if you can’t hold her after paying the price? What if you can’t hear her babble? What if you can’t see her little face or the way her eyes light up and her toothless smile spreads across her face as she spots you?

Just as she does now, she lets out a louder “Goo…” as she spots you and her legs go into a frenzy as she flails her limbs frantically.

You don’t want to cry but you feel the rush of sorrow overwhelm you. Quickly, before Steve can see, you drop onto the bed still wearing his robe and pull Maggie towards you. You hug her and turn her towards you, burying your face against her tiny chest.

Her little hands grab at you, whatever part of your head they can, and she pulls your ears, tugs your hair, scratches against your cheek but you don’t care. You inhale her scent, memorizing it just in case you lose the ability to smell.

After you’re sure you could never forget it, you tickle her sides until she’s giggling lightly, small bubbles and whines of amusement. It’s not a full laugh. She hasn’t done that for you yet. What if you never get to hear it?

You memorize this one anyway, put it away and lock it up within your heart where you know you will always be able to recall the pure sound of her innocence.

It takes every ounce of will power within you to stifle your desire to sob. Still, you manage it and when you’re certain you can face him, you pull back a bit to look at your daughter’s beautiful face.

She’s all Steve. You hardly recognize anything in her looks of you. She’s gorgeous. Pretty blonde hair, just like Steve’s only slightly darker in shade.

Her eyes are a piercing blue. Lighter than Steve’s but just as observant. She watches you, reaches out for your face where she places a small hand on your nose then slides it down to your lips which she casually grabs and releases before her eyes find her hand and she brings it to her mouth to taste.

You watch her for so long, you’re sure that it must nearly be morning, but the sky continues to be dark outside the windows of your room.

You sing to your little one. A quit lullaby that you hope she’ll remember if you can never speak to her again. You tell her you love her and sing some more.

She drifts off eventually, her little mouth open as she sleeps.

Finally, you turn your eyes on Steve, yearning to see him almost to an unnatural amount. You have never doubted it but in this moment as your eyes find him staring right back at you, you realize how much you truly love him. How much he’s changed your life.

Your world has grown since you met him. He’s changed you forever.

Will the sacrifice be your life? Will you be leaving them behind? Will you be wounding him again, just as Margaret had?

Even though Grandmother said it wouldn’t be, you can’t help but wonder and worry that you might very well be spending the last moments you’ll ever have with him and Maggie now.

What if you close your eyes and they should never open again?

At least she would have him. Maggie wouldn’t be alone. She would have her father. And he would have her.

If by some chance her father should also leave her behind, she’d have Nat and Bucky. She’d have Sam and Peter. She’d have the entire team to care for her. Father and Mother would probably try and take her to Malibia.

She would never need to worry about her meals or whether she could survive frigid winter temperatures. She would be protected and loved even if you aren’t around to make sure she is.

Steve blinks slowly. He’s sleepy but he’s trying to stay awake because you’re awake.

You’re not sure if he can tell that something is wrong, but you push yourself up towards him. You’re careful as you hover over Maggie, reaching to hook your hand behind his neck as he also pushes himself up and towards you.

You kiss him, slow and smooth until your heart begins to ache and your hand squeezes around his neck.

You kiss him with a bit more fervor and though he returns it, when you pull away, his brow is narrowed in confusion. Subtle concern.

“I love you.” You whisper to him, reaching down to trace the shape of his bottom lip with your thumb. You kiss him again. “I love you, forever.”

It’s a promise you have every intention of honoring. Will he love you even if you can’t talk? Will he love you if you can’t hear? Will he still love you if you are not the woman you are now?

You know that you can overcome anything. You can embrace a new way of living so long as it means that Steve and Maggie are safe. But will he see it that way? Will he love you for the woman you will become?

“You’re my entire world, Y/N.” He whispers back almost as if he can hear your thoughts and he wants to put you at ease.

His lips curl up at the corns softly as he blinks even slower than before as sleep begins to pull him under. “You and Maggie are my life.”

Your lip trembles as his eyes shut and do not open again, his head falling to his pillow.

“I love you…so…” He trails off, his words lost to dreams.

You stare at him and then Maggie. All night you stare at them, memorizing the way they breathe and smell. If you’re going to be changed forever, you’re going to remember this moment and cherish it until the day you die.

You will never forget it.

~~~~~~~~~~

1 Year & 3 Months Later

The sun is beaming. It’s strong. July is hot, even more so than normal. You groan as you look up to the sky and shield your eyes from the blinding light.

For a moment your mind goes hazy, full of fog. Something changes as it always does. Something shifts.

Something tugs at the corners of your mind. Something blurry and demanding. You get this way every single time you come here.

Every time you fill the wooden bucket, there’s a flash of something familiar.

You focus on the tug, allowing it to unearth the secret that eludes you.

There’s a quick flash that you don’t quite see. A golden hue. A storm blue circle.

Then your bucket overflows and the water splashes your feet, drenching your newly mended shoes.

They’re too small for your feet but it’s all you have.

“Damn.” You sigh, grunting as you lift the bucket and place it on the damp bank of the river.

Across the barren field, your little hut just at the opposite edge nestled into a grove of forest trees, Bright Rise begins to wake.

Another day, another scramble to find a way to keep your belly full.

“Time to check the traps.” You sigh, groaning as you lift the bucket and begin the trek back to your little hovel in the only village you’ve ever known.

The place you were born, but most definitely not home.

Your heart tells you that somewhere out there…somewhere else, your true home waits.

(THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! One more to go!)

#steve x reader #king!steve x reader #captain america x reader #medieval au #royalty au #medieval fantasy au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #pseudo princess #king!steve x you #steve rogers x you #steve x you #captain america x you #pseudo princess pt35

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Text

Day 26: Liar - Max Phillips

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader

Taglist: @josepedropascal @oldstuffnewstuff @lackofhonor

A/N: This is my second time writing for Max Phillips and I hope it’s ok. Thank you to everyone that reblogs, comments, and likes. I read them all and it makes me happy. Only four more days of the November writing challenge.

November Writing Challenge Masterlist

“Do you have any idea how long I have been working on this account?! MONTHS! You honestly expect me to believe that you come in and two days later sign a deal with them?!”

“Well when you approach a client with some decency and respect they are much more receptive…”

“Liar! You were out all afternoon yesterday, what were you doing, spreading your legs for the ordering executive?! Your a fucking slut!” Evan shouts pointing a finger at you.

The others in the office are staring at the scene the two of you are making and you really wish in that moment Max was there. He was at a conference for the rest of the day. You can feel the tears well up in your eyes and you hold your head up high, “Listen here Evan, I didn’t do anything like that. I called and spoke kindly and they agreed to make the sale. I will not be slut shamed!”

“Fuck you! You...you vampire whore!” Evan screams before storming off.

The office is quiet enough you could hear a pin drop. The sounds of Evan’s retreating footsteps and your sniffles are the only sound. “Miss,” one of the employees steps forward, “Do you want me to call Mr. Phillips?”

You shake your head no, giving him a watery smile. “No, under no circumstances should Mr. Phillips be told of what happened today…” You go over to your desk, and continue working on closing the account. Slowly the crowd dissipates and leaves you be. You knew they wouldn’t tell Max if you asked them. No one wants to piss off their vampire sires girlfriend.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully until Evan comes back still saying insults under his breath at you from his cubicle across from yours. You ignore him, even though it hurts what he says about you and finish your work early.

When you get home you call for delivery from your favorite Thai restaurant and open a bottle of wine. Letting it breath while you light some candles and turn on music. Twenty minutes later the food arrives and you take the steaming noodles and wine to the couch popping in your favorite movie. You try to forget about all the hateful things Evan said to you but the words keep rolling around inside your brain.

Spread your legs…

Fucking slut…

Vampire whore…

You can feel the tears slowly stream down your cheeks and you're so engrossed in your thoughts you don’t notice the door being unlocked and Max coming in. But, he notices you. Your slightly slumped shoulders, shaking with the force of your tears. He moves silently across the floor before he kneels before you, he takes your hands in his own.

Your head snaps up and you look at him shaken, frantically attempting to wipe your tears. His hands tighten in your own, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks.

You weren’t expecting him until tomorrow and you shake your head avoiding his gaze. He releases one hand to grasp your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Who hurt you?” his voice takes on a dangerous edge.

Max would never hurt you. But he would kill for you.

“It’s nothing...I just had a long day is all…” you avoid his gaze and he scoffs.

“This is more than just a long day sweetheart...now let’s be honest with each other, what happened?”

“I landed the Armendy account today…”

“That’s fantastic! That will bring in huge sales for the company! We should be celebrating...but why are you crying?”

“Evan was also working on closing the deal...when he found out I closed it...he said some things that hurt my feelings. Nothing more Max just my feelings…”

“What did he say?” his voice is deep...dangerous.

“Max it was not-”

“What the fuck did that little prick say?!” he roars.

You look at him panting and feral. If you were anyone else the look in his eyes would terrify you but you knew he was only concerned for you. “He slut shamed me... said I spread my legs to land the account and then when I tried to defend myself...he called me a vampire whore.”

Max stands abruptly and moves with lightning speed to the door, “MAX WAIT!” you shout. He freezes one hand on the door, the other open and closing in unconcealed rage, “Please, baby please don’t leave me.”

He slowly turns from the door, still breathing heavy and eyes wild. You approach him slowly reaching out for him and enveloping yourself in his arms. “Come to bed, you can deal with him tomorrow. I just...I don’t want to be alone right now.”

You feel some of the tension release from his body and his arms come to wrap around you. Kissing the top of your head gently, “Ok...let’s go to bed sweetheart.” He drags you both off to the bedroom where you snuggle and fall asleep.

When you wake up in the morning, the bed is empty. On your bedside table is a steaming cup of coffee, and a note.

Went to take care of some business at the office. Be back soon. I love you. -Max

You sigh before picking up your phone and dialing the number for the office. Ted answers on the second ring and you don’t get a chance to speak before he’s telling you Max is there and so is Evan.

“Put me on speakerphone!” you hiss and Ted does as he’s told.

“Your little slut deserved everything that I said yesterday! She stole that account from me, and I don’t care what she says she took off the afternoon yesterday and went to go suck some dick to steal the account from right under my nose!” Evan shouts.

“Evan, Evan, Evan…” uh oh you know that tone, “She was not with some executive on her knees the other afternoon she was with me. We had plans together, which are none of your business.”

“Yeah bu-” Evan tries to get a word in but Max isn’t finished.

“She got the account because she is a much better salesman than you and doesn’t make people want to slit their throats when they listen to her talk.” he clears his throat, “Now to your other comments about her being what was it...oh yeah a vampire whore...if you ever fucking call her that again I will stick a fucking straw in your neck and drink you like a happy meal.”

You can hear Evan gulp through the phone but Max isn’t done. “I will drain you until their is nothing left and all they can do with your corpse is fill it with air like a fucking blow up doll because their won’t be anything left. Do you understand me?”

You assume Evan is nodding because Max asks, “I didn’t fucking hear you Evan?”

“Yes, Max.”

“When she gets in on Monday you will be formally apologizing to her like the animal you are with you fucking tail between your legs.”

“Monday?” Evan questions, “It’s only Wednesday.”

“She just landed one of the biggest accounts this company has had in years so I think she deserves an extra long weekend.” Max holds out a hand for Ted’s phone knowing you had been listening the whole time.

“Sweetheart you stay in bed, I’ll be back in thirty minutes with breakfast ok?” he coos into the phone and you can feel him smirking.

You smile brightly chuckling, “Ok baby, are you going to be eating too?”

“I’m not really in the mood for food,” he replies.

“Who said I was offering food?” you tease.

He groans, “If I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you were trying to kill me sweetheart...thirty minutes.” he chuckles darkly before the phone clicks.

You sigh thinking about how protective Max is over you, and how turned on that makes you. Thirty minutes...time to get ready.

#November writing challenge #Pedro Pascal #Bloodsucking Bastards #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x Reader

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devendrasbeard · 3 years

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Marry me Once, Marry Me twice, Marry Me Six Times

Prompt: Getting Engaged Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier Rating: M Content Warnings: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, Accidental Sugar Daddy Acquisition (through marriage xD) Summary: Five times Jaskier has proposed to Eskel (more or less as a joke) and the one time Eskel has proposed to Jaskier (for real). Coffee shop AU!

Also on ao3!

The first time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was only a few days after he'd moved to Rivia all the way from Lettenhove.

He reached out to his old college friend, Geralt, who he knew lived in Rivia, and asked him for help with the move. Even though they haven't seen each other in almost ten years, Geralt was more than happy to provide help not only with bringing all of Jaskier's stuff to his new place, but he was also determined to make Jaskier's start in the new city go as smoothly as possible.

And so, he offered Jaskier a job in his coffee shop, so that he didn't have to worry about money right after having moved across the continent. When Jaskier would settle down and think of a plan for his next moves, he'd look for other job opportunities.

It was his third day in "Deja Brew", but Geralt was already convinced he'd made the right decision by hiring his old friend. Jaskier's outgoing personality and clever, witty comments already earned them much higher tips. Little to no customers could withstand Jaskier's charm when he described their cookies and special lattes with flowery words, so their order values also increased immensely.

It was close to lunchtime, so the coffee shop was almost empty. Jaskier was stacking up some paper cups and reorganizing the paper straws by color, with his back to the front door, when he heard the familiar ding of that tiny bell installed just above the door.

He turned around to greet the new customer but got tongue-tied after seeing the person who entered. It was a very tall man, taller even than Geralt, with shoulders ridiculously broad, gorgeous olive skin and longer dark hair. He was wearing a leather jacket over a red skin-tight t-shirt, and a pair of black jeans. What caught Jaskier's attention were the bits of tattoos poking out of the shirt's v-neck and a piercing on the bridge of the man's nose.

"Fuck me sideways..." Jaskier whispered a tad too loud as the man approached the counter.

"Hey, no swearing in front of the customers!" Geralt shouted from the storage room.

"No worries, I'm no customer," the man smiled softly and winked at Jaskier. "I assume Geralt's around?"

Jaskier pointed to the back door not saying a word, too busy biting his lip and ogling the gorgeous man in front of him.

"Oh, hey, Eskel," Geralt appeared next to Jaskier and greeted the man. "Did something happen? You usually don't come here after work."

"Nah, it's nothing. I left in a rush this morning and forgot my keys. If you could give me yours I'll make dinner tonight," he casually leaned over the counter and Jaskier couldn't help but stare at the chest hair poking out of the shirt and those goddamn tattoos.

"Yeah sure, I'll get them," Geralt replied and patted Jaskier on the shoulder. "By the way, this is my old friend Jaskier, you should remember him from my college stories. Jask, this is my brother Eskel."

Jaskier's eyes widened even more. "Brother?!" He shook his head. "You have a gorgeous, sex-on-legs brother and you never cared to tell me?"

Geralt chuckled. "Of course I told you, back in college. Baby Esk? Little brother did grow up a little in the past ten years."

Jaskier swallowed thickly and eyed Eskel, who was grinning at him with a mysterious spark in his eye. "Gods above," Jaskier sighed. "You're even more perfect than Geralt. I'm sorry, but will you marry me?"

Eskel laughed loudly, a low baritone sound, but so soft on the edges. He patted Jaskier on the shoulder and winked. "I like you, Jaskier. We'll need to get to know each other better if you'd like to marry me, so I'll see you around?"

Eskel left, leaving Jaskier feeling very fuzzy inside, knees wobbly, leaning on the counter to steady himself, and Geralt rolling his eyes at him and asking the gods if it really was a good idea to hire him.

*****

The second time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was about a month later.

He stayed in "Deja Brew" for a while longer than he and Geralt had planned initially, but they both agreed that Jaskier just fit into that place perfectly. His new ideas for special drinks and clever names for desserts helped Geralt's place make a name for itself.

Jaskier's newest addition to the menu was the "Unicorn Fart" - a caramel cocoa drink with rainbow colored whipped cream and a ridiculous amount of sprinkles on top. Kids would buy that in bulk and parents would roll their eyes at Jaskier when he'd hand the drinks to the delighted kids while making farting noises.

Eskel was a cook in the vegan diner just across the street and he used to pop in every now and then after work or before his late afternoon shift, grabbing a coffee before he went back to his daily activities.

Jaskier would eye him very carefully and absolutely not as sneakily as he thought. It's been a really long while since Jaskier has been with anyone, and Geralt's brother sparked that long forgotten interest in him. Now and then Jaskier would ask Geralt casually about Eskel - how old he exactly was, what he liked to do in his free time - feeling more comfortable talking to his friend about him, than ask Eskel himself.

One evening Eskel came into the coffee shop right before closing time, carrying two takeaway bags and placing them on the counter. "You need to try this!" he said enthusiastically, crossing his arms on his chest. "I've finally managed to make the perfect dumplings."

Jaskier peeked into the bags with interest and took out two containers with wonton soup and a tray with some kind of stir fry. Eskel grinned at him, his face an example of sheer satisfaction.

Geralt emerged from the storage room and grabbed one soup from Jaskier. "It smells great," he smiled at his brother.

Jaskier eagerly grabbed one wonton with his chopsticks and ate the whole thing at once. It was delicious - hot, juicy, full of tasty vegetables - and his eyes rolled back into his skull as he hummed with contentment. He pointed his chopsticks at Eskel, mouth still full, and let out a few appreciative grunts. "This, my guy, is orgasm in the form of food."

Eskel laughed and scratched the back of his neck. Jaskier didn't miss the way his bicep bulged, his shirt almost bursting at the seams. "I'm glad you like it, I'm really proud of this."

"You should be!" Jaskier put away the soup and reached for the stir fry. "Gods, I would give you foot massages at every occasion if you promised to cook it for me everyday."

"You know where I work, Jaskier, you can come by whenever you like."

"I would much rather marry you and enjoy this orgasmic food in the privacy of our home," Jaskier said lightly, while looking Eskel deep in the eyes at the same time. "Could also use some different kind of orgasms you wouldn't be able to provide me with in your diner."

Geralt choked on his dumpling, looking daggers at Jaskier, while having a coughing fit. "For gods' sake! Can you try being less blunt with your flirting? It's my little brother."

"I don't see any flirting," Eskel laughed, sending Jaskier a wink. "I've only been proposed to twice, that's quite serious, my old guy, don't you think?"

Geralt huffed, rolled his eyes and left for the storage room, hugging the soup container to his chest. "I need to place some orders for tomorrow. Behave, you two."

Jaskier leaned casually on the counter, popping another dumpling in his mouth and grunting with pleasure again. "I've proposed twice, yet I haven't heard an answer from you, Esk."

"I like you, Jaskier, you're more than cute," Eskel winked at him and moved to the door. "Gotta do better than that to get a yes, though. See you around!"

*****

The third time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was on the night of Belleteyn.

As a promotional stunt, Jaskier offered their coffee shop customers a pair of limited edition coffee drinks - one infused with rose and the other with lavender extract - along with a big heart-shaped cookie. When couples ordered the set he would also give them plastic flower crowns that he'd bought in bulk a few weeks earlier at a super cheap price.

Geralt was amazed at Jaskier's ideas and kept shooting him appreciative looks, as they both worked fast and agile to get all the incoming orders ready. He even gave in and let Jaskier put one of the flower crowns on his silver hair, "for promotional reasons only, of course."

When the last customers for the day left, carrying two coffee cups each and trying not to drop their flower crowns, Eskel walked into the place, his signature grin plastered on his face.

"Ready to get absolutely shitfaced tonight?" he asked, holding up a bottle of red wine. "I like how cute you both look," he smiled pointing at the now crooked flower crowns on their heads.

"You'll get one too," Jaskier chirped, reaching under the counter and placing the wreath on Eskel's head and pursing his lips. "Absolutely gorgeous!"

"Nice!" Eskel smiled. "Are we going to see the parade or do you guys want to get straight down to business?"

"And by 'business' you mean...?" Jaskier leaned forward on the counter, grinning at Eskel, completely disregarding Geralt's exasperated huff. Jaskier was like a horny, hyperactive little puppy that Geralt had absolutely no control over.

"It's up to you, Jaskier," Eskel smiled, absolutely unfazed by his friend's innuendos. "Geralt and I have seen the parade more than a dozen times, so if you'd rather hit the pubs already, then I'm game."

"Let's hit the pubs then," Jaskier commanded. "But the flower crowns stay on!"

A few hours and three visited pubs later, Geralt has called it a day and went home, leaving Jaskier and Eskel sitting alone at the bar, telling them to not do anything stupid while he's gone.

"Sigh, Eskel, you're really handsome," Jaskier whispered, propping his chin on his hands.

"Did you just say 'sigh' out loud instead of actually sighing?" Eskel chuckled.

"I might have," Jaskier tried for a seductive smile. "You're still handsome." He reached out to pat Eskel's cheek, but miscalculated the distance and launched forward, his hand landing on Eskel's thigh and his forehead on Eskel's chest.

"Okay, how shitfaced are we?" Eskel asked, helping Jaskier find his balance.

"Well, I'm pretty hammered for sure. Time to go home?"

"Can I walk you home?" Eskel asked, still holding Jaskier's arms in his grip.

"Only if you stay the night," Jaskier went for a wink but ended up closing both his eyes several times.

"You're absolutely not subtle while flirting," Eskel laughed, leaning forward and almost bumping their foreheads. "But you're incredibly cute and I'm terribly horny, so I'll take it."

"Talk about subtle," Jaskier snickered.

Before he could find another witty comeback in his alcohol-dazed mind, Eskel's lips were on his. They were soft and plush and very wet, and the kiss caught Jaskier off guard. He wrapped his hands around Eskel's neck and leaned into the kiss.

"Hey, no tongue wrestling at the bar!" the bartender swatted them with his towel. They laughed softly, muttering out apologies and left the pub, hips bumping against each other and legs wobbly.

They stumbled into Jaskier's apartment, Jaskier hugging Eskel's waist, Eskel's arm slumped over Jaskier's shoulder, laughing at something they have long forgotten about.

Jaskier pushed Eskel against the wall as soon as he closed the door behind them. "Okay, are we doing this because we're super drunk, super horny, or do you really really reallyyyyy fancy me?" he asked, propping his arm against the wall and looking up at Eskel's face.

"I like you Jaskier," Eskel said firmly, giving him a quick kiss. "And I'm also super horny, so I hope that's enough a reason for you?"

"Your hot-ass... ass is reason enough for me," Jaskier chuckled and pulled Eskel in for a kiss. Eskel was warm on his lips and his hot tongue in Jaskier's mouth was already driving him crazy.

"Bedroom," Eskel panted. "Quick, before we pass out from all the tequila shots we had tonight."

So Jaskier laid back comfortably on the bed, having already dropped his shirt and pants and he watched Eskel undress. Eskel didn't waste any time, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion and sliding his pants off together with his boxer shorts.

"What the fuck? What the... Shit, fuck, Eskel?!" Jaskier sat up on the bed, eyes wide with wonder.

"You okay, Jask?" Eskel turned to him, brows furrowed with worry.

"You walk around carrying this marvel of a dick in your pants and you didn't tell me?!" Jaskier gasped, his voice reaching incredibly high notes.

"When do you think would be the right time to tell you?" Eskel laughed, crawling up the bed and into Jaskier's arms. "'Yo, I'm Eskel, wanna see my marvelous cock?' This doesn't usually work out well."

"I usually don't propose to people immediately after seeing them, so I guess this could've actually worked," Jaskier replied with a seductive wink, his hands already roaming across Eskel's tattooed chest. His eyes, however, were fixed at Eskel's cock. "Gods, dick so bomb I will really have to marry you! I want to feel that between my legs every day for the rest of my life!"

"Watch out what you wish for," Eskel whispered in his ear, causing goosebumps on Jaskier's skin. "Or you might actually get it."

*****

The fourth time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was when he caught a nasty cold in the middle of summer.

Jaskier was sitting on the couch, watching reruns of "The Great Cintran Bake Off", a cup of now cold tea in his hands. He scolded himself for having worn flip flops to work the other day - a heavy rain had caught him when he was going home in the night and he was soaking wet when he had finally reached his place. The next day he woke up with a throbbing headache and runny nose and had to call in sick.

There was a knock on the door, but Jaskier waved it off. If it was the postman, he'd leave the parcel or letter at the door, and Jaskier didn't expect anyone else.

A moment later there was another, louder knock, followed by Eskel's soft baritone voice. "Jaskier, are you home? It's me."

Jaskier slipped off the couch, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and shuffled to the door to open it.

"Aww man, you look like shit," Eskel said when Jaskier let him in.

"Good to see you too, Eskel," Jaskier replied weakly and shuffled back to his living room to plop back on the couch.

"Geralt has told me you called in sick and asked me to come over and check up on you," Eskel followed him into the living room, placing takeaway bags on the table next to the couch. He put a hand on Jaskier's forehead, worrying his lip between his teeth. "Good thing I have the whole day off. Someone needs to take care of you."

"I'll be fine," Jaskier mumbled from under the blanket.

"What did you eat today?" Eskel asked, eyeing the half empty tea cup on the table.

"Some Aspirin. Butter toast."

"Yeah, thought so," Eskel shot him a condescending look and grabbed the takeout bags. "That's why I came prepared."

He pulled out a container of hot chicken soup and another one with gyoza dumplings. He helped Jaskier sit up and wrapped the blanket around Jaskier's shoulders, so that he could eat comfortably on the couch.

"The chicken soup is what my grandma used to make whenever we were sick. She taught me how to prepare it," Eskel said with a hint of pride. "Eat it hot, you'll feel better in no time."

Jaskier ate a few spoons of the hot broth - it was deliciously salty, with lots of carrots, onions and noodles. He felt a pleasurable warmth already spreading around his stomach and he hummed softly. "Thank you, it's delicious."

"Now, eat it all up and go to bed. You need sleep," Eskel rubbed his back and Jaskier leaned in to rest his head on Eskel's shoulder. "I'll look after you today."

"You don't have to," Jaskier looked up at him, eyes fogged. "I'll take a nap and will be fine. No need to stay around and waste your day off work on me."

Eskel cleared his throat before placing a quick kiss on Jaskier's forehead. "It's... It's not a waste of time to be around you." He lowered his gaze and fixed his eyes on the floor. "You're my friend."

"... with benefits," Jaskier chuckled, then got a coughing fit. "Sorry."

"Let's get you to bed," Eskel commanded with a light smile. "You need to sleep for the soup to work its wonders."

Jaskier slept for over four hours. He was woken up by a warm hand on his forehead - Eskel checking his temperature. He sat up with a groan, but he was relieved to find that his head didn't hurt anymore.

Eskel put a tray with a bowl of steamy hot dumplings in Jaskier's lap and sat next to him on the edge of the bed. "Time for lunch," he smiled. "I also made you some ginger tea with honey - it's much better for your health than that generic supermarket shit you had earlier."

"I don't know if I should thank you or feel fucking offended," Jaskier narrowed his eyes. He then tried one of the gyozas and let out an appreciative hum. "Okay, I've decided to thank you, cause these are fucking delicious! Did you made them yourself?"

Eskel nodded with a smile.

"Gods, I'm so lucky to have you," Jaskier whispered between bites. "Fucking handsome, so caring, great cook, dick so bomb it leaves me breathless... Eskel, I'm going to-"

"Yes, I know, you will ask me to marry you," Eskel cut him off, letting out a breathy laugh.

"I wanted to offer you a blowjob once I get better," Jaskier retorted with a grin. "But marrying you would come with the same benefits, so I guess I should actually ask you to marry me one day."

"Who knows," Eskel replied, eyes unfocused and looking at the wall with a soft smile. "Maybe one day I will actually accept your crazy proposal. Now finish your food and let me get you some more Aspirin."

*****

The fifth time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was when Eskel saved his life.

It was a chilly night at the beginning of autumn. Geralt has left earlier to run some errands and Jaskier was closing up the coffee shop by himself. Having worked there for over half a year now, he knew exactly what to do and it didn't bother him to be left alone for the last hour of work every now and then. He closed the front door, swept the floors, counted the money and put it away into the little safe in their back room. He turned off all the lights and went out, closing the back door behind him.

"Your wallet and phone, pretty boy," he heard a hoarse voice behind his back.

He turned around to see a man, hiding his face under a big hood, both hands kept hidden in the hoodie's vast pockets. Jaskier shook himself out of the initial shock and looked closer at the person - it wasn't a man, more a teenager, sixteen years old at best. He was grinning awfully at Jaskier, eyes mad and darting, probably on drugs.

"Okay, let's take it easy," Jaskier held his hands up, shivering a little. "I don't think you want to do this."

"Shut the fuck up! Wallet." The guy moved closer to Jaskier pulling a small knife out of his pocket.

Jaskier instinctively scooted back, his back bumping painfully against the cold door of the coffee shop. This was getting serious and he was sure even his wit wouldn't help him get out of the situation. He looked at the knife's blade shining in the weak light of the few street lamps, took a quick glance at the guy's wild eyes and gritted teeth - he was definitely under some substance's influence, so Jaskier convinced himself that arguing with the guy or trying to talk some reason into him would make no sense. He exhaled slowly, trying not to shake too much while still eyeing the sharp blade in the guy's hand. He tried looking around without acting too obvious - but there was nobody in the street.

"Okay, I'm gonna reach into my pocket and take my wallet out," Jaskier said weakly, trying to sound as calm as possible. "No need to use the knife, okay?"

"Don't tell me what to do!" the guy shouted at him, waving the knife around.

Jaskier looked up and prayed silently to the gods. He hoped that as soon as he'd handed the guy his stuff, he'd be gone and leave him alone. All he heard was the annoying sound of his teeth clicking and his rushed heartbeat ringing in his ears.

"Leave him alone!" Jaskier heard a growl coming from the end of the alleyway. Before Jaskier could recognise Eskel in the dark figure, he rushed at the robber, knocking him down. The guy fell on his back, losing the knife and groaning painfully. He scrambled to his feet and launched at Eskel, clearly going for a fight. Jaskier watched him lose his balance and fall on his back again, after Eskel had punched him straight in the face. "Get the fuck out of here!" Eskel's voice was dark and threatening, nothing alike the soft baritone Jaskier was used to. Eskel kicked the guy once, before Jaskier grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

"It's okay, Esk," he said quietly. "I'm okay. It's okay."

"If I ever see you around here again, I swear to god..." Eskel started, teeth gritted and jaw clenched. He watched as the guy got up as quickly as he could and limped away, leaving him panting and with a very scared Jaskier clinging to his arm.

Jaskier let out a deep breath, steadying himself on Eskel's arm. Eskel turned to him and grabbed him in a tight embrace. "I'm okay, I'm okay," Jaskier kept repeating, even though his legs felt weak and his teeth were still clicking a little.

"Gods, I'm so glad nothing happened to you," Eskel breathed and kissed Jaskier's forehead. Then he kissed his cheeks and left a soft kiss on Jaskier's lips. He was shaking a little too. "If he'd hurt you, I swear to god..."

Jaskier put a finger on his lips to shut him up. "Thank you, Eskel. I'm so glad you were here."

Eskel huffed. "Good thing I came over... Wanted to ask you to go out and grab a beer with me, but now..." he gestured around, while giving Jaskier a worried look.

"Eskel," Jaskier hugged him, hiding his face in Eskel's broad chest. He felt the stress leave him, as Eskel's strong hands rubbed circles on his back. He let out another deep breath, held back the tears prickling at his eyes, smiled faintly. "You saved my life, quite literally. So, since I now owe you my life, will you marry me?"

"Ahh, there it is," Eskel let out a breathy laugh, placing another kiss on Jaskier's forehead. "I will take you out tonight first."

*****

And then Eskel has proposed to Jaskier.

"Hey, Jaskier," Geralt looked up from the delivery boxes and greeted him when he entered their coffee shop. "Before you change into your work clothes, can you go over to Eskel's diner and pick up a parcel for me? He said he grabbed it for me this morning."

"Sure thing," Jaskier replied, putting his jacket back on. "Be back in ten."

"Yeah," Geralt nodded towards him with a soft smile tugging at his lips. "No rush."

When Jaskier entered the diner, Eskel greeted him at the door and took his work apron off, throwing it to a coworker. "Good to see you, Jaskier," he said eagerly.

"Hi, Geralt said I was supposed to pick something from you for him?"

"Uh yeah... I don't have it," Eskel grinned with an apologetic look on his face, rubbing the back of his neck. "But you can come with me, I have something to show you."

"How long is it gonna take?" Jaskier hesitated at the door. "Told Geralt I'll be back in a minute."

"You don't really have to," Eskel smiled at him. "Asked Geralt for a day off for you today, he's already got someone to cover today's shift for you."

Jaskier propped his hands on his hips and eyed Eskel suspiciously. "Okay, what is going on?"

"Can't tell ya," Eskel reached out and grabbed Jaskier's hand. "Come with me."

They strolled slowly through the city's streets. Eskel was holding Jaskier's hand all the time, rubbing small circles on it with his thumb every now and then. Jaskier looked down at their intertwined fingers and smiled. Eskel's hand was strong and warm, his olive skin soft under Jaskier's touch.

"How come your skin and your hair are so much darker than Geralt's?" he wondered aloud.

"Geralt's a weirdo," Eskel blurted out without thinking, causing Jaskier to chuckle. "Also, he's old."

"Mind you, I'm the same age as him," Jaskier stuck his tongue out.

"Technically, yes. But you're different," Eskel smiled. "When I'm around you, I feel like you're more my age, while Geralt is already like our dad."

"I'm really glad he doesn't hear us now," Jaskier laughed, squeezing Eskel's hand tightly. "Okay, where are you taking me and what is going on?"

"Ah, we're here," Eskel stopped them. "You'll find everything out soon enough."

Jaskier took a look at the heavy steel gate they found themselves in front of. Botanical garden. Jaskier has always wanted to go there but never found the time to do so. He smiled fondly at Eskel and squeezed his hand. So it was a surprise date, a nice walk through the narrow paths between colorful flowerbeds. There were little to no people, since it was a weekday before noon - everyone was either at work or in school and they could enjoy their time together in privacy. A fuzzy heat spread through his chest and he gave Eskel a wide smile. "Thank you for bringing me here, I love it."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Eskel grinned, grabbed Jaskier's hand and led him inside.

After a while of walking around, Eskel sat Jaskier on a secluded bench in front of a weeping willow tree. On both sides of the bench were flowerbeds of blooming autumn flowers - cyclamens, russian sage, and marigolds. Jaskier turned his face to the sun, letting it warm his skin, and inhaled the mix of strong flowery scents. "It's beautiful," he sighed. "But what's the occasion? It's neither my birthday nor yours... So what's the deal here?"

In reply, Eskel grabbed Jaskier's face and pulled him into a passionate kiss. His lips were warm and plush and so soft on Jaskier's and Jaskier immediately sunk into the sensation, slumping in Eskel's arms. Eskel was holding Jaskier's face firmly, kissing Jaskier so deeply, hungrily, as if he was afraid Jaskier would never want to kiss him again. But Jaskier leaned into the kiss, pressing his body flush to Eskel's, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders, opening his mouth to welcome him.

"Jaskier, listen," Eskel grabbed his hand and exhaled deeply, when they parted their lips. "I know we're not technically together, like we never put the 'boyfriends' label on ourselves, but I feel that we have a strong connection going on between us anyway. And I know that you're much older than me, but I don't really mind, and if you don't mind, then..." He stopped for a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth, trying to find the right words.

Jaskier stared at him with interest and a hint of worry, looking between their intertwined fingers and Eskel's face.

"I've never met anyone like you, Jaskier," Eskel continued, squeezing Jaskier's hand between his strong fingers. "You're funny and smart, you're like sunshine embodied. You're so beautiful and so confident in who you are and I admire you and... I love you."

Jaskier felt tears already brimming at the corners of his eyes and he exhaled deeply, trying not to burst out crying at the very moment. But then Eskel slid down from the bench and got on one knee, causing Jaskier to gasp loudly.

"Marry me, Jaskier," Eskel said, expression serious but eyes hopeful. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small dark blue box, and pressed it into Jaskier's hands. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You might think I'm crazy but I've really thought it through and if you're ready to take that leap of faith with me, then I'll be the happiest person in the world."

"You mean it." Jaskier's voice was as quiet as a whisper, as he looked at the little box in his hands and then at Eskel's face. "You really want this?"

Eskel nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He squeezed Jaskier's hands between his a little bit tighter.

Jaskier opened the box. He found a small simple ring in white gold inside, holding a tiny aquamarine at the top. He let out a whimper, before pulling the ring out and placing it on his finger. He pulled Eskel up from his knees and into a kiss. "I knew from day one we're gonna end up like this!"

-----

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

#witcher rarepair summer bingo #jaskel #jaskier x eskel #eskel x jaskier #the witcher fic #jaskier #eskel #*borat voice* i hope you like

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herpronuonsarefemslash · 3 years

Text

Back Against the Wall - TEASER

Recent poll winner for the prompt: - Kara forgets to button the last button at CatCo event, gets swarmed by omegas.

Includes the following items in every box: * Cat Grant returns * Nia is flustered by Cat Grant * Andrea is thirsty * Lena is slightly devious * Kara doesn't "get" Earth taboos

https://www.patreon.com/posts/54179252

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"Well, well, well...aren't you all grown up, Kiera?"

Kara spins so fast that it has Nia coughing in a way that sounds suspiciously like 'secret identity'.

"Cat," she mumbles.

Elegant as ever, her old boss lifts her flute of champagne to her lips, her trademark platinum bracelet twinkling in the low lighting. Behind Cat is a strawberry blonde omega clad in a shimmering drape of green silk seemingly modeled after the chitons so popular on statues of Greek goddesses. It bares her legs to mid-thigh and the silver-plated clasps leave tantalizing glimpses of milky flesh between hips and ribs. The collar is turtleneck-high and crushed velvet, leading to a gold chain. The outline is tempting without being glued to her bust and her butt, and so like something at the National City University sculpture garden that no one would dare call it racy. Perhaps it's an in-joke between them about her very classical figure: all curves and heft in tribute to the ancient feminine from ages before anyone heard of 'thigh gap'. The omega's scent screams admiration and her hand never leaves the small of Cat's back. Kara spots a tiny scar on Cat's braceleted wrist. It's a better place for a businesswoman to have a bite, Kara supposes. Easier to conceal. Never let them know what the rules are, Cat once told her.

"Right," Kara finally manages. "Good point."

"Naturally," Cat retorts. "I made it. This is Vania."

Rao's mercy. The Amazon? Aella and Melanippe's daughter?

"Lovely to meet you, sister," Vania drawls. "For you it's Van, or just V."

"You haven't introduced me to your date, Kiera."

"This is Nia. Ah...a friend."

"My..." Nia pauses. "...partner is having a rough patch. We're trying to keep it low key for him. So when I go out, it's with Kara."

"Nia Nal."

"I'm Cat Grant. Obviously."

The handshake is brief and jerky and meant to show a burst of strength but also respect. Nia is making Kara's alpha feel foolish and inadequate tonight.

"The pieces on fashion, expression, and gender," Cat recalls, tapping a long finger against her wine glass. "And the op-ed on status-body divergence. I'm guessing those were yours?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am," Cat huffs. "Ma'am is my mother. An association you do not want me to make. Those articles were tolerable. I thought you seemed familiar."

Nia shivers. Cat turns her all-seeing gaze back on Kara. Pale blue, almost green. Knife-sharp and intense enough to spear Kara to the spot, bracing for a verbal beat-down.

"I recommended to Ms. Luthor that she assign Nia to you, Kara."

"You did? You personally?" Nia all but squeals.

"Mmm. But I wanted you to teach her how to show some spine, Kara. Not donate yours," she teases.

Van slides her arm in Cat's and gestures towards the banquet table.

"Let Kara be, my heart."

She turns her ocean-blue eyes on Nia and waves a hand idly at the food.

"Come, little oracle. I do love a good story of Cat's handpicked proteges," she purrs.

As the trio passes by, Kara feels blunt nails scrape across her abs.

"Missed a button," one of her tormentors hisses.

=====

The 'crisis' turns out to be Lena and Andrea next door in the omega's ladies, still dressed to the nines, with the alpha waiter that they'd hijacked held between them. Andrea's long fingers are curled around the waiter's cock. Each pump is slow. Deliberate. Controlling. Lena's tongue traces the poor woman's ear--pink, puffy, and perfect--dragging strangled sounds from deep in her ribs. Andrea's bending over more than she needs to, making sure Kara has a good view of her golden skin. Up and down she strokes, up and down goes the mind-melting glimpse of her cleavage.

"Nice of you to join us," Lena purrs. "I knew I could count on Supergirl."

There's something about the waiter, too. Something familiar.

"You're the vigilante that I had to save six months ago."

The woman was good, and obviously had excellent training. Batman-level moves but no Batsuit. Bruce won't admit it, but the fifty million dollars of bulletproof armor matters.

"Answer her, love."

=====

Kara's too hasty in setting them down on Lena's balcony, making Andrea tumble out of her grip into a heap. Thankfully, she landed on one of Lena's chairs for sunbathing.

"Whatcha think?" Kara whispers to Stephanie, nodding at the tangle of golden skin, ruined designer silk and embarrassed slash horny scent. One of Andrea's Givenchy heels is dangling on snapped straps and the other probably went over the edge of the balcony. A quick glance with X-Ray vision finds it embedded in a planter. Since the falling stiletto didn't smash anyone's brains, she decides it's not Supergirl's problem.

"I think you should fuck her."

Kara nearly jumps back into the sky at the sound of Lena's voice.

Lena toes off her own shoes and walks over to the deck chair. She gathers Andrea's silky mane into a fist and yanks.

"Lee," Andrea moans. "Please."

"Please what, Andrea? Please, Lena! Protect me from a pair of alphas? Please, Lena! Let you pay me back for the way I betrayed you by letting them fuck me sore? Please, Lena! Let me earn your trust by taking their knots?"

"All of it," Andrea mumbles. "Except the first bit."

=====

Lena claps appreciatively and disappears inside, soon returning with baby wipes, paper towels and an energy drink for Andrea. Someone's phone goes off and the three of them--Andrea is working hard just to keep track of a straw--hunt through the pile of clothes until they find it.

"Fuck," Stephanie hisses. "I have to go."

Lena glances over her shoulder.

"He does not call it the Bat-ification. Does he?"

"I tried to trick him into calling the alerts 'bush', for Bat-push, but Batwoman caught me."

Andrea wheeze-laughs.

"Kate Kane knows her way around a bush, I'll give her that."

=====

Kara is not a fan of capitalism in general.

But having Lena's fridge restocked to abundance in tidy rows by some white-gloved person every day makes a case for some aspects of it.

Lena on tiptoes in a loosely tied kimono of queenly purple, straining her pretty little fingers for the switch for the stove's exhaust fan? That can excuse any injustice.

"Little help?" her best friend whines, using her scent in a way Kara doesn't remember Nia ever using to make Kara reach something in the supply closet at work. Nia's probably just not as crafty. Who is, really?

Kara walks around the breakfast counter and curls her fingers around the omega's hips, thumbs pushing in just a bit so she can stroke the delicate arch that frames Lena's pelvis.

"You could just reach up and do it," Lena reminds her, but she's short of breath.

"Gotta teach billionaires to be self-sufficient," Kara teases before she lifts her up.

"Fuck," Lena pants, bracing her hand against the exhaust hood and scrambling madly for a switch with fingers shaking so hard she can barely work it.

#superrojas #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #andrea rojas #cat grant #devious lena #sassy cat #references to seal training #like the kind with whiskers not the military kind #supercorp #abo

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rubix-writings · 3 years

Text

Punisher Pt. 4

Fourth part of Punisher. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, blood, mentions of violence/attack, long (!)

“Jo, can you get that order ready? I have to go do inventory in the back,” Hermann asks. His silver eyeglasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, the reflection of the paperwork on his clipboard plays across his lenses. I nod and start to pour a few glasses of wine to take over to the table in the back corner. A few weeks passed since my first day and Hermann and Stella have started to trust with a lot more responsibility around the bar. It’s been great getting closer with the regulars and I’ve even stopped by the firehouse to have lunch with everyone a few times. I pick up some empties on my way back to the bar and start to wash the used glasses. It was a pretty quiet night and the crowd has only thinned out as the night went on.

“Hey Jo, how’s loverboy?” Emily insinuated. I met Emily and Silvie during one of my first shifts and they really latched onto Jay’s and my relationship, or lack thereof. We ended up having a few drinks after my shift on the same day Jay dropped me off at Molly’s. The way I feel when I’m with Jay is new, something I’ve never experienced before. When Jay is around I feel….. Safe. It’s like I can fully be myself, there are no eggshells to tiptoe around.

“He’s at the table near the door, why don’t you go ask him?” I ask.

“Oh please, you must have noticed how Jay likes to hang around Molly’s, but really only during your shifts,” Emily whispers.

“And how he’ll stay late on the nights you’re closing up,” Silvie lowers her voice to match Emily’s. I pause cleaning and lean onto the bartop in front of them.

“You guys just described yourselves,” I whisper back.

“That’s not true, we are here… an average amount,” Emily fights back, but not really believing it. Silvie says nothing, but I can tell by the way her eyes are moving that she’s trying to do the math. I smirk and say nothing. They’re not wrong about the amount of time Jay spends at the bar. Sometimes he comes in with a few members of the Intelligence Unit or with Will, but he always spends time at the bar to talk. And then there are the times he’s come in alone and sat on the same stool all night to ensure his spot is saved. But I’ve tried to not think about it if I’m being completely honest. A part of me feels like I’m crossing a line I’ll never be able to step back, I’m supposed to be hidden, flying below the radar. I’ve really tried, people have offered to hang out on my days off or grab drinks and I always turn them down. I could never live with myself if any of these people got hurt because of me. I keep telling myself that I have everything exactly how I want it, but that is a big fat lie and I have no interest in fixing it.

“Hey Jo, can I close out?” the breath in my lungs immediately dissipates. Jay really is punch you in the gut kind of beautiful.

“Yeah, course,” I move further down the bar to the register. “How’s Will doing these days?”

“He’s good, the long shifts are killing him, but other than that he’s good.”

“Well maybe you shouldn't keep him out this late,” he smirks and hands me his credit card.

“Yeah, probably shouldn’t. He’s just being a good brother,” I hand Jay his receipts to sign.

“Will you come around tomorrow?” Really smooth, that didn’t sound too eager at all.

“Can’t sadly, I pulled the short straw of late shift patrol.”

“Wow, how’d you get so lucky?” He hands me back the signed copy.

“It’s a gift I guess. At least I’ll be with Adam, you remember him right?” Adam Ruzek, probably one of the tallest men I’ve ever seen. It’s hard to forget him since he acts like a teenage boy trapped in a man’s body. I smile and nod at Jay’s question. “Yeah, so at least I’ll have someone to talk to.”

“How are him and Kim doing, still on the outs?”

“Yeah. Hey don’t let me regret spilling that to you,” he taps his knuckles on the wooden bartop.

“First, I’m offended. I’m an excellent secret keeper. Second, maybe it should be harder than a couple of beers for a detective to start disclosing secrets,” I shrug.

“It’s called confiding actually.”

“Oh is that right,” I smile.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you around Jo,” Jay starts backing away towards the front door.

“Bye Jay.”

Is it too serious to tell him to stay safe? The words were on the tip of my tongue, ready to be dropped, but it never came. I look to the girls at the other end of the bar who give me a look of victory from Jay’s and my interaction. I simply roll my eyes and get back to work.

****

My eyes are barely staying open as I park my car in front of my apartment building. That’s right, I have a car. A real shitty one to match my apartment. It does provide some comfort knowing that it’ll never get broken into. The frigid air does very little to wake me up, my body is deeply craving sleep. Between the double shift today and the closing shifts the nights before, I haven’t gotten enough sleep to say the least. My feet slowly trudge up the creaking stairs, for some reason someone years ago thought it would be a good idea to paint them white, but never did any touch ups and just left it to chip and fade over time. The ceiling in my apartment was “fixed” a week ago, but by the looks of it I wouldn’t be surprised if it dropped again.

“Time for sleep,” I smile lazily. I plug my phone in to charge and go to the closet to hang up my coat. My bed has never looked so inviting, hell my water ruined coach looks like a good place to sleep right about now. I start to brush my teeth when I hear a muffled yell. I pause and wait for it to reoccur, but after a few seconds I start to believe it’s my tired mind playing tricks.

“Help….please,” it’s so faint that if you weren’t looking for it you’d miss the outcry. A loud crash follows which causes the adrenaline to course through my veins and bolt out of my apartment. A woman lays in the hallway, I look to the stairs and the vibrant blood clashes with the white stairs and banister. She groans and tries to move.

“Hey, don’t move,” I say as softly as I can. I take off the hoodie that I always wear under my coat and start to push it under her head as a makeshift pillow. Her eyes flutter closed, but she doesn’t try to move anymore. I start to get up from my knees and her hand quickly snatches my forearm.

“Please don’t leave me,” her voice is hoarse. This is the first time I really look at her face that’s covered in blood and cuts. Her eyes are hollow and tired. I look down to her hand that’s also covered in blood, there’re cuts across her knuckles. She fought back.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to get my phone. Just relax, you’re safe,” I had no place to tell her how to feel, but once she loosens her grip I take full advantage and run to my phone to call 911. As I’m explaining the events to the dispatcher I take the rolls of gauze and first aid kit from my apartment with me to the hallway.

��What’s your name?” My voice is calm, I start to try and wrap the injuries bleeding the most.

“Eve,” her voice faint and weak.

“Hi Eve, I’m Jo. You’re not alone okay? I’m not leaving you,” she nods slightly keeping her eyes closed. “The police are coming.” Once I finish wrapping the wounds on her face, I start to look over the rest of her body to see if anything needs immediate attention. Her upper arm was slashed and she was stabbed in the leg which is basically gushing. They might’ve nicked the artery. As fast as I can without putting her in too much pain I wrap up her arm and start pilling on copious amounts of gauze to her leg wound. The bright red liquid stains the used gauze and my hands as it can’t be stopped by the gauze alone. I start to undo my belt and wrap it above the wound.

“Eve, this is going to hurt, but I need you to stay still so I can stop the bleeding okay?” she groans in response. Her skin is almost as pale as the white wooden floor. I leave her for one last time to get a wooden spoon from my kitchen. I start the tourniquet and try to push away Eve’s cries of pain. “I know, I’m sorry,” she doesn’t respond. Once the tourniquet is in place I get more gauze to put pressure on the wound.

“Police! Call Out!” I’ve never felt so relieved to hear those words.

“Up here! Hurry!” I shout back.

“Holy shit.”

“Jo?” My head snaps up to Jay’s face.

“Jay, help her,” my exhaustion slowly defeating the adrenaline in my body.

“I got this Jo,” Adam moves to put pressure on the leg wound. I slide back to lean against the wall.

“Jo, what happened?” Jay’s face directly in front of mine. I’ve never seen his eyes this close up before, there’s so many blues thrown together.

“I heard her yell for help, I think she fell down the stairs,” Jay follows my gaze to the stained stairs behind him. “Her name is Eve,” he nods and pulls away to talk into his radio.

“Eve, Eve, can you hear my sweetheart?” Adam yells to Eve, she winces in response. “The ambulance should be here in a minute, just hold on okay?” Eve’s eyes flutter open and frantically look for me.

“Hey, I’m right here. I’m not leaving,” I walk and practically collapse on the other side of her. Her bloody hand finds mine like it’s her only lifeline.

“Ruzek, I’m going to clear the rest of the building. Jo stay with Adam,” normally I would fight and tell Jay to not go alone, but my body is gradually fading.

“We’re good man, go,” Adam urges. “Jo, you okay there darling?” his voice sounds morphed in my mind.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Adam reaches for his radio, I watch him talk but nothing comes out of his mouth. I shake my head to try and get my mind straight.

“Paramedics!”

“Up here guys!” Adam yells back. “Eve, the medics are here, you’re gonna be okay.”

“What do we got?” One medic asks, Adam takes it upon himself to explain the prior events as best as he can from the information I gave him earlier. I release Eve’s hand and move so the medics can help her, she seems to understand because Eve doesn’t fight me moving away. It felt like an out of body experience watching them try and save Eve.

“There’s a blood trail leading a few floors up, went into the apartment it started from but it’s empty. Cars are on their way to secure the scene,” Jay is back, but I don’t look at him. “Hey Jo, why don’t you sit down?” Jay grabs my arms and gently leads me to a clean stair to sit. “What’s the ETA on that second ambulance?”

“Two minutes,” one medic answers while removing my sweatshirt from under Eve’s head to get her on the back board.

“Second ambulance?” I ask.

“Yeah, just to check you out really quick. You might be going into shock,” Jay responds softly.

“I’m fine, just really tired,” my voice is barely above a whisper.

“Just in case, okay? Here,” Jay takes off his CPD bomber jacket and wraps it around my shoulders.

“Jay give us a hand,” Adam calls while grabbing hold of one side the back board that holds Eve.

“Yeah. Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” Jay rubs my back before getting up from the stair and helping get Eve down the stairs to the ambulance. I rest my head against the wall as my body enters full crash mode. I just want to sleep. “Jo, come on let’s go get you checked out,” Jay helps put my arms through the correct holes of his jacket and leads me down the steps to outside.

The steel of the ambulance is cold against my butt. A woman with red hair and bright green eyes starts taking my vitals. The blue and red lights of the cop cars light up the entire street. People are bringing a ton of equipment into my apartment building, whoever was sleeping in the building isn’t anymore.

“Well everything looks good. Her body is crashing from all the adrenaline, so she’ll need some good rest, but other than that she’s fine,” the medic tells Jay.

“Thanks Terry,” Jay replies before taking a seat next to me. He hands me a water bottle, I accept it with my blood stained hand. I should be acting more freaked out about the blood, but I’m too tired to lie.

“You did a great job in there. You a nurse or something?” Terry asks me.

“Um, no,” I leave it at that. Like I said, I’m too tired to lie. A guy that’s mildly balding with a thick beard appears from around the corner of the ambulance. He has a massive camera balanced around his neck.

“I need to take photos,” he says plainly.

“Photos?” I ask confused.

“C’mon man, can’t you give her a second to breathe?” Jay defends.

“You know the protocol Detective,” there’s no life in his words. I place the water bottle on the ambulance steel and take off Jay’s jacket. The man positions my hands to take photos for evidence. After he’s satisfied with the photos of my hands he starts to circle and take pictures of my clothes, the fact he does it silently makes me uncomfortable. I think Jay feels the same way since he wraps me again in his black jacket and tells the rude man that’s enough. Jay leads me back to my apartment. The building is full of officers and lab techs, the whole place is a crime scene. Jay and I don’t talk till we get inside my apartment. A part of me is embarrassed that he has to see my shitty apartment, but it’s quickly pushed away.

“Do you know her?” Jay asks.

“No, but I don’t know anyone in this building,” I answer honestly. “I try to keep to myself.”

“You can wash your hands,” I nod and move to the kitchen to start scrubbing the dried blood from my hands. “Maybe, you shouldn’t stay here tonight.”

“If you’re worried about the noise, I’m way too tired to care. Besides, this building has never been safer with all the cops crawling around,” I try to joke.

“I have an extra bedroom Jo, it would be no trouble,” he pushes.

“Thank you, but I’m fine. I promise,” the skin on my hands is just about raw once all the blood is off. I let my hands stay under cold water to try and ease the pain. “Um, will you let me know what you find out about Eve? Let me know if she’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard you’re a good secret keeper.”

“Thanks,” I hand him back his jacket. Jay smiles and hesitantly moves toward the door.

“Before I go, at least take this,” he hands me his business card. “Call me if you don’t feel comfortable staying here, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay, yeah,” my fingers run over the raised lettering across the card. Without another word, Jay leaves. I lock the door and make my way to my room to finally get some long overdue sleep. I don’t look at the time, I know that won’t help me. The muffled talking and walking from outside my apartment gradually lull me to a deep sleep.

A slight vibration slowly brings me out of my nightly slumber. I never plugged my phone in to charge after the events of last night, it’s settled next to me by my pillow. I have three missed calls from Hermann. It’s almost noon, but I’m still tired. I call back Hermann knowing he’s probably freaking out since I haven’t answered.

“Hey kid!” His immense energy brings a smile to my face.

“Hi Hermann, everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. I heard about last night, how are you?” Of course he did.

“Yeah I’m good, still trying to wrap my head around it, I guess.”

“Of course. How about when you’re up for it you stop by Molly’s I want to ask you something.” “I can be there in an hour,” Hermann and I exchange our goodbyes. I groan spills out of my lips as I stretch my arms above my head. Once I finally move from my bed, I immediately go to shower, something I probably should’ve done last night. The boiling water feels euphoric against my skin and the steam cleans out my mind. I need to come up with a story with details to explain last night. There’s no way that people won’t push like they did last night, I was given space because of the tragic event. A dull pain flows down my legs as I clean the new bruises on my knees. I didn’t realize how hard I slammed my knees on the hardwood in the hall last night. Once I pull myself from the warm confides of the shower I have to rush to put on jeans and a sweater before being late to meet with Hermann. I don’t have time to blow dry my hair so I throw it up in a bun before grabbing my keys and running to my car. The hallways and stairs are covered in black dust from fingerprinting, it’s surprising how quickly they cleaned everything up.

Luckily, there’s a free spot not too far from Molly’s. It’s decently full for a Saturday afternoon. The inside heat is slowly thawing my frozen hair and face from the freezing wind.

“Jo, you want a cup of coffee?” Hermann is the only one behind the bar and I’m very grateful for that.

“Yes please,” I sit at one of the stools and welcome the hot cup of coffee.

“How’re you doing?” Hermann comes around the bartop to take the seat next to me.

“I’m good, still a bit tired if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, what happened last night must’ve really taken it out of you.”

“I didn’t realize that all first responders are such gossips,” I take a sip of the hot coffee.

“Oh the worst,” he laughs. “I’m not good about beating around the bush so I’ll just go right into it. I have an apartment above my garage. It was meant for my mother-in-law but she had to move into assisted living.”

“That’s - good for you?” I’m confused.

“I think you should move in there. It’ll -”

“Oh Hermann I don’t think so, I have a place.”

“I know, but it’s a scene of a crime. They still haven’t found the person who did that to that poor girl. You can pay rent if that makes you feel better, and we don’t even have to see each other. It’s that separate from the main house. Look from what Jay said I don’t think it would be good for you to stay there,” Hermann’s eyes grow wide as we realizes he gave away his source.

“Jay? Was this his idea?” Hermann stutters trying to find a way out of the hole he dug for Jay. “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow Hermann. Thanks for the offer,” I abandon the rest of the coffee and get up to leave Molly’s.

“Hey kid, it may not have been my idea but we would love to have you,” Hermann expresses sincerely. The anger that was boiling inside of me settles at his kind words for a moment.

“Thanks, I’ll let you know,” he nods and makes no effort to stop me from storming out of the bar this time. Once I enter the cold streets I’m met with a few members of the Intelligence Unit including the perpetrator himself, Jay Halstead. I exchange short greetings with each one before they head inside.

“Hey how are you doing?” Jay says once everyone is gone.

“Fine. I would ask you the same thing, but you must be tired since you’ve been so busy,” Jay furrows his brows.

“What? What are you talking about Jo?”

“I just had a really interesting conversation with Hermann. About my living situation. That you instigated,” I start to walk towards my car, ready to leave Jay without another word.

“Jo, please. Let me explain -” I spin around so fast it almost makes me dizzy.

“No. Do you think that shitty apartment in a horrific neighborhood was my first choice? But I’m doing this on my own for once.”

“You don’t have to do this on your own.”

“Yeah well I also don’t need people making my choices for me. Goodbye Jay,” I turn and walk towards my car. Never in my life did I wish I was getting into a Lexus more than right now.

Tags (hopefully I did this right!) - @whit85-blog

#Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #chicago one #chicago fire imagine #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #punisher

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cyclogenesis · 3 years

Note

i have to tell you that the second i saw cal and ash on that mountain getaway a couple weeks ago, i thought about how desperately i would love a sequel to your turks & caicos fic set during that trip. (this is not a request, i promise, i just wanted to tell you bc that is one of my fav fics of all time)

Aw anon!! 🥺 Gosh I hadn't even thought about that when I was in my feelings about the mountain getaway pictures, which is wild because I am just remembering now that I started a fic after the honeymoon comment initially happened (like, very soon after, because @elliebirdthings was at that show and told me about it and we were freaking out haha), before we knew that they went to Turks & Caicos, and I had them taking that trip to a cabin in Maine.

Just for kicks, because this message made me smile and I love you for that, here's the beginning of that fic. It's unfinished obviously (not even any kissing!), but there's some nice stuff in there I think. This fic was going to be titled A whole fucking lifetime of this after the American Pleasure Club album which was a title I should have kept, goddammit. Also randomly in here I have them driving to the cabin while listening to My Bloody Valentine, who Ashton later called out as one of his main influences for Superbloom.

1600 words of unfinished Cashton under the cut! 😘

The day after the last meeting about the promo schedule the dressing room conversation turns, as it does, to plans for the break. It’s a month out, but they’ve to a man developed a fetish for planning their free time carefully as soon as the schedule’s set. Planning things makes Ashton feel like a grown-up. He likes renting cars. Sometimes he scrolls through AirBnB for hours just to see what’s out there.

“I’m going straight back, we got Dodgers tickets,” Michael says.

“I remember when you used to say ‘we’ and it meant you and me,” Calum says. He wiggles a little from where he’s snuggled against Michael on the couch like he wants to get away, but of course Michael doesn’t let him. Ashton thinks he probably wasn’t really trying.

“Aw, you’ll always be my first love,” Michael tells him, squeezing Calum to him more tightly. “You wanna make out just for old times sake?”

“I do not,” says Calum, but he lets Michael give him a big kiss on the forehead, his face squinching up happily.

“I just wanna get away for a bit, no work or social media or anything,” says Ashton, ignoring their tomfoolery. “A little cabin by a lake somewhere.”

“Oh yeah?” Luke says. “Where are you and Cal going this time?”

“Maine,” Calum says, at the same time as Ashton says, “Why would you assume we’re going somewhere together?”

A small silence falls over the room.

With dignity, Ashton says, “Calum and I are going to Maine.”

“Just get out in front of it this time,” Michael advises. “Let everyone know it’s another honeymoon. Take control of the narrative.”

“How many times can you go on a honeymoon before you have to acknowledge that you’re married?” Luke asks nobody in particular.

“It’s a bro trip,” Ashton says firmly. “For bros.”

“It’s very bromantic,” Luke says. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt I wasn’t invited. I love going back to LA and jerking off alone.”

“It’s nice that we’ve all got plans,” Calum says. He’s settled peacefully back against Michael, Michael absently petting his hair.

“It’s not a honeymoon,” Ashton insists.

Whatever, Ashton called it what he called it, okay? Might as well control the narrative.

Over drinks at the bar after their last show Calum asks, “Where would you want to go on your honeymoon, anyway? Somewhere new?”

Ashton pokes at the ice in his cocktail with his straw. Aren’t they supposed to not be using straws anymore because of the ocean or whatever? Ashton loves the ocean, it’s very important to him. Also this cocktail sucks. “Can I try your drink?” he asks. “I don’t love mine.” Calum has something with ginger in it, and bubbles. Calum slides his obligingly over, and Ashton passes his own over to be fair.

“I like yours better,” Calum says after a sip. “You wanna trade?”

Sometimes Ashton does believe in soulmates. “Yes, thank you.” He takes a long drink. “It would be nice to spend more time in Italy. Not one of the tourist-y parts though, somewhere quiet. Up north, maybe, one of the smaller towns.” He tries to picture what it would be like: olive groves, blue skies, stone churches. An old villa with lemon trees and a view of the hills. He’s so used to traveling with the band or just with Calum that it’s hard to picture anyone else there with him. They’re all as prone as anyone to get swept up with girls to the exclusion of most everything else, but Ashton can’t really imagine a future without seeing Calum all the time, without talking to him every day. Maybe he and Calum could just get married around the same time and they could all go on a honeymoon together.

“Yeah, that’d be pretty nice,” Calum says, looking wistful. Ashton wants to take a picture of him, capture the way a curl rests against his temple, how the blue neon lights behind the bar hit the glitter he let Ashton smear on his cheekbones before the show. They made a no social media pledge for this trip but Ashton’s bringing his camera anyway. He has to keep in practice, doesn’t he? Anyway, it’s important to capture these memories.

“Maybe we should just go,” Ashton tells him. “Why not? Who knows how long it could take for me to fool someone into living with this forever?” He sucks down the last of his drink, feeling sorry for himself now. What if he falls in love and she moves in and Calum stops coming over in the morning to walk to their favorite coffee shop together, and stops picking Ashton up so they can go hike Runyon, and stops bringing Duke over like he owns the damn place and doesn’t care about the dog hair that Ashton has to hoover off his couch pillows? That would be terrible. Worst of all, what if it was Ashton that suddenly wanted those things to stop?

“I’ll live with you forever,” Calum says, too busy flagging down the bartender to intuit Ashton’s emotional crisis. He gestures to Ashton’s empty drink. “Another one of those, right?” His own is still half full. Maybe he didn’t really like Ashton’s better after all.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Ashton sighs.

Calum bumps his knee against Ashton’s, the barstool squeaking beneath him. “Ash, you’re gonna find somebody if that’s what you want. Anyone would be the luckiest person alive to be with you. Maybe we could do Italy after the tour wraps, we’ll finish in Spain so it won’t be far.”

The thought cheers Ashton a bit; that’s a decent amount of time to get on AirBnB and see what he can find that’s available. It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to, Italian sunshine and limoncello and the quiet.

“Mike and Luke will definitely give us shit though about planning another honeymoon while we’re still on this one,” Calum says.

“Let ‘em,” says Ashton.

It’s not a long flight but it’s a bit of a drive from there to get to the cabin. But Calum said he wanted something remote and quiet, so it’s worth the wait, the drive in the dark. There’s moonlight, anyway, and Calum took the wheel, getting them the rest of the way there in their little silver Prius rental. He puts on My Bloody Valentine and sings along, low and comforting to listen to after so many days straight of playing, of promo. Halfway through the trip Ashton thinks he sees a shooting star, maybe thought he dreamed it until he felt Calum’s soft nudge of knuckles against his arm, heard his quiet, “You see that, bro?”

The way gets bumpy, thick with trees, dark and hard to navigate once they turn off the main road. At the end of it all there’s the cabin, looming in the dark, lights left on for them and the key exactly where it’s supposed to be. It’s past one a.m. but they still give the place a wander, stopping at the largest bedroom facing the lake. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows Ashton sees trees, darkness, the black glitter of water under starlight. Calum asks, “You want this one?”

Ashton looks further and just sees more darkness. “It’s kind of unnerving at night,” he says. “Anyone could be out there.” The other bedroom has smaller windows, but the point stands. “Do you wanna just watch TV or something in here and then decide?”

“If we get axe murdered here I hope our ghosts come back and leave a one star review,” Calum says, but he’s already shrugging his duffel off his shoulders and kicking off his shoes.

The host left them a bottle of pinot grigio so Ashton pours up a few glasses while Calum strips down to his boxers and gets in bed. The boxers have cartoon pugs all over them. “I can’t believe that’s the lingerie you’re wearing for our honeymoon,” Ashton says, handing him a glass. “I also can’t believe those boxers even exist.”

Calum raises it to him in a salute and takes a sip. “These boxers are fantastic, but I guess if you want me to take them off…” he trails off, eyebrow raised, thumb hooked in the waistband pushing them down past his hipbone, then further until Ashton can see the crease of his thigh.

“No, no,” Ashton says hurriedly, “I’m just saying, what’s wrong with a nice pair of footie pajamas? Keeps you warm. Keeps you modest.” Nevertheless he shucks his own clothes except for his own (very grown-up, perfectly normal, in a flattering shade of dark green) boxers and joins Calum in bed. Calum’s already stopped paying attention to him, too busy trying to figure out how to work the remote. He finally gets the screen to flash on, and Ashton stays quiet, sipping his wine while Calum flips channels, finally landing on something in black and white. Cary Grant comes on screen but Ashton still isn’t sure what movie it is; Calum seems interested enough, setting the remote down between them, so he doesn’t complain. The wine goes down easy and Ashton does too after not too long.

He rolls onto his side and sees that Calum’s eyes are already closed. It doesn’t look like he’s asleep yet; it always takes him a bit, leaving him in a dozy stage for about ten minutes during which he might respond crankily to any communication or with adorable mumbling affection. Ashton turns the sound down and says, as quietly as he can, “TV off?” Calum’s eyes don’t open, but he nods a little. “Okay. You want me to go sleep in the other room?”

Calum moves then, a sleepy shift of his body, fumbling a hand up and blindly patting the sheet until he makes contact with Ashton’s hand on the remote and squeezes it, links their fingers together like he can’t quite figure out how to make it work. It feels nice. “’S’okay,” he murmurs. “Stay here.”

Ashton didn’t feel like getting up anyway.

#asks #anonymous #cashton #my fic #5sos #extremely hurtful btw to look at my 5sos unfinished fic folder #1k of lashton living together #2k of cashton h/c #2k of ot4 #4k of mashton that was going to become ot4 #6k of calum/ashton/luke which is the one i'm probably most mad about it bc there's so much good stuff in there #rip my sweet children you were fun while you lasted #OH MY GOD and the almost 5k of michael/luke in an au where 5sos were a queercore band #i am sorry stories!! i wanted better for all of you!!!!!

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Part 3

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt #52: Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help (It is highlighted in bold).

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

You can find the previous chapters here.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

Pairing: Liam x OC

Book: The Royal Romance

A/N: This is an 18 plus series. There is mention of an STD, so if that is a trigger … might not want to read.

A/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow and @choiceskatie for snippet reading. And Burnsy and @jessiembruno for suggestions.

Word Count: 1752

Permanent Tags: @emceesynonymroll @romanticatheart-posts @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234

Series Tags: @princessleac1 @cordonia-continued @sanchita012 @shz256 @cordonia-gothqueen @narrytheworld @graceful-leah @mom2000aggie @queenwalton @tinkie1973 @muchkoolermk

*I only tag those who ask for it. Let me know if you want added or removed.

**Be kind: hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy 💗

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

Standing in the bathroom of the hotel's penthouse they shared with friends, Maxwell broke the news to a stunned Drake about his ... unfortunate condition.

"What're you gonna do about them, Drake?"

Frustrated, Drake ran a hand down his face, wanting to be anywhere but with Maxwell at that precise moment. "I don't know, Maxwell," he spat. "This is my first crabbing!"

"Maybe we can have a doctor look at them. Get some ... I don't know ... kind of comb or poison or something."

He pulled his pants back up and groaned. "I just need a drink."

Maxwell followed Drake out of the bathroom, keeping a good distance from his friend. "Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help."

Liam and Leo sat on the sofa watching the Instagram posting of the wedding ceremony as the duo walked by.

A disgruntled Liam stood and gestured to the laptop on the coffee table. "Maxwell! Why the hell did you post this? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Drake was already out the door headed for the hotel bar. Maxwell never broke stride as he trailed. "No time to talk, Li. Got an STD emergency."

The door slammed with a jarring thud. Liam turned back to Leo with a confused look. "What was that?"

"Sounds like the Drakester didn't wrap it up," Leo chuckled while sippng on a capri-sun, while never taking his attention away from the screen. "Oh! Oh!" He waved his younger brother over with excitement. "This is the part where you sang, Moves Like Jagger, to Riley during the ceremony."

They both listened in as Liam's garbled voice reverberated from the speakers watching the King grind fervently against his bride. "Take me by the tongue, and I'll know you. Kiss me 'til you're drunk, and I'll show you all the moves like Liam. I've got the moves like Liam. I've got the moooOoooOooOooves like Liam."

Liam's hands flew in the air out of bewilderment. "I don't even know that fucking song!"

Leo slurped through his little yellow straw then replied, "I think you do. Videos don't lie, Liam."

A haste knock interrupted their viewing; Liam answered the door, surprised to see Riley.

The frantic woman held her phone up to his face. "Do you want to explain why I'm all over the internet with you, Elvis, and this … this monkey? Also, it says we got married?"

Leo bolted from the sofa. "Hey! That monkey has a name, you know.”

"Not now, Leo," Liam grumbled.

Riley leaned to get a better look at the sandy-haired blond who was approaching the door. "Who are you?"

Stepping in front of his brother with a hand extended, he flashed his signature grin. "I'm Leo, your new brother-in-law. But only by half because my mom left me. Then I got a new mommy: Liam's mom -- then she died. Then we both got another new mom. Wait … is Regina still alive? Oh my god! Tell me we still have a mom, Liam!"

"Leo! Get the hell out of here!"

He huffed. "Fine. I'll go make a sandwich. You want one sis?"

Riley shook her head.

Liam gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry about him. Please come in." He stepped aside and offered her a seat on the sofa.

She couldn't help but notice the laptop on the table paused on their abrupt ceremony. It was apparent to her that Liam was trying desperately to get his own answers.

Liam pushed the laptop aside and sat across from her on the table; his elbows rested on his thighs as he sat forward. He let out a heavy exhale. "I suppose we have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, we do. What is all of this? And you're a King? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I am. It's a small country in the Mediterranean -- Cordonia. And I couldn't tell you because my head guard wouldn't allow me to come on this trip without him unless I remained discreet about my identity."

Riley regarded him thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense."

Leo handed her a Capri-Sun with the straw already pushed in. She took it hesitantly and thanked him. "I guess I just need to know how we ended up married to one another last night?"

Liam's remorseful eyes idled up to his brother, who was now standing next to him, eating a turkey and Frito's sandwich. "According to my brother here, whose heart is bigger than his brain, I called him and asked him to marry us."

Leo shook his head. "That's true, Riley. It's all Liam's fault."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Leo, why don't you go check on Drake and Max."

"Fuck that! Drake ain't got nothing I wanna be checking on right now."

"No, stay," Riley pleaded. "You seem to be the only one who knows what happened last night. Can you tell me everything, please?"

Leo gave Liam an arrogant smirk before falling back onto the sofa beside Riley.

"I'll tell you everything, but you two have to promise to name your firstborn after it's Uncle Leo."

Liam dropped his head into his hands. "Leo, dammit."

Leo nudged Riley in the side and leaned into her. "Your husband's an asshole. Probably inherited from our daddy. If he ever makes you drink from a wine goblet, you should probably run."

Riley patted his knee like a child and spoke softly, assuming at this point he was a mental case. "Leo, sweetie, can you just tell me what happened last night, please."

"Well, as I told Liam, I was getting my prostate milked from hot Nurse Trisha at the bank. I just needed change for a twenty, but they said I had to make a deposit first. They even give you porn in this private room. So she's two fingers deep when I get a call from Liam, who was as drunk as Cooter Brown at a church picnic and said he needed me to come down to that Graceland Chapel because he was getting married. So after I sputtered in the little cup, I left in such a hurry I didn't get my change, but I called Drake and Max and told them they had to meet us at the chapel."

Riley cocked her head. "Why was a monkey there?"

"Oh, that's Mongo, the ring bearer. And if you pulled on his nipples, he'd hump your legs and give you a quick reach around. The coolest fucking monkey I ever knew."

Riley snapped a wide-eyed stare at Liam, who just shrugged at her and said, "I ... I've got nothing."

Leo bit into his sandwich. The crunch from the mound of Fritos could be heard in the casino fifty-one stories below. "You know, Liam --" He smacked his lips a few times. "Now that you're married to sis, you don't have to marry Maddie. You can have the wife and Queen you've always wanted. And judging by the noises I heard coming from your room last night, she makes you very happy."

Riley chuckled, slightly embarrassed, while Liam stood and walked to the wet bar for a drink and some distance.

"Leo, I appreciate the thought," he said while pouring a tumbler of scotch. "But Riley and I are just strangers who had a good time, but made a huge mistake." Liam took a sip of his drink and walked back to the sofa. "Don't worry about anything, Riley. I will take care of the annulment in Cordonia and here in the states."

She smiled. "I would appreciate that. Thank you."

Leo tossed his sandwich on the table. "No! Liam, man, this is your chance to be free. You came to Vegas and hit the jackpot. And maybe you two kids are strangers now, but there's no reason why you couldn't get to know each other and fall madly in love. You already know you'll never love Mads. And then at the end of the day, I'd be the big sexy cupid who made it all possible."

It surprised Liam that his brother's suggestion tempted him... and that Leo actually made a coherent suggestion. He sighed. "I don't think so, Leo."

Riley looked between the two men, who seemed to have a stare down over the logic of this idea. She liked Liam; he was the handsome, mysterious guy that she had always dreamed of meeting. She took a long drink of her juice and sat it on the table. "I think I will go, now. Is there anything you need from me, Liam, to quicken the annulment?"

"If you could write your contact information down in case my lawyer has questions, that would be great. I'll be sure you receive copies of everything as soon as possible."

Riley pulled a notepad and a pen from her purse as Leo walked over to Liam to debate further. "Don't do this little brother. Don't you do it. We can't afford to lose another member of our family. First it was daddy, then Regina, now Riley. I can't take it, Liam."

Liam placed a hand on Leo's shoulder. "It's done, Leo. And ... Regina is alive. You just spoke to her yesterday."

Leo's head dropped back with a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god."

"Here ya go, Liam." Riley stood and handed the paper to him and grabbed her purse from the sofa.

Leo clutched both of her shoulders and shook them. "Please, Riley, don't go. Don’t leave my brother an orphan. You're the Queen of Cordonia now. Think of the people!"

Riley snorted from just the thought. "I know nothing about being a queen. I doubt I would have anything to offer your little country."

"Liam could teach you! Hell, I can teach you, too. I'm the smartest one in the family. You'll be bossing people around in no time."

"That's very kind of you, but I think I like my little life just fine here in Vegas, bossing kids around the classroom all day." She patted his arm endearingly and walked past him toward the door.

Liam stood there, watching her walk away while the words of his brother replayed heavily through his mind. Nothing made sense; he was sad that she was leaving, knowing that it was completely irrational to feel that way. Leo was right, though: this was his chance to be free, and even if it didn't work out in the end, it could buy him time to find the one he would love and have the family he always wanted.

He turned away and walked back to the wet bar to pour another drink; he wouldn't be selfish and ask this complete stranger to give up her life for him.

With his back turned, he closed his eyes when he heard Riley speak her goodbyes and opened the door.

A familiar voice rang out that shook him to his core, and he whipped around to see his current wife stopped at the door by his future one.

"Oh, you must be the one who thinks she can steal my crown."

#Fools Rush In #king liam #choices liam x mc #liam x riley #liam x mc #the royal romance #prince leo #choices fanfiction #trr #bbrandy2002 #wackydrabbles

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horansqueen · 3 years

Text

It Feels Like Christmas - Part 2

It feels like Christmas Just like Christmas It feels like Christmas with you...

Click Here if you want to be on the update list

NIALL

Have you ever felt like fate was on your side? Have you ever felt like someone, even after just meeting them, was going to have a big impact on your life? It's not like the sky opened and a light beamed down on them or anything. It's not like an angelic song started when they appeared. No, it felt more like a stomach twisting, heart jumping kind of thing. Like there was this certitude inside of you, some thought that turned quickly into a fact, the fact that the person taking a seat next to you, in your taxi, was going to change your life one way or an other. Call it faith, call it intuition, call it a blessing... all I knew was that I had to try something.

"Alright, you're the mysterious kind, I can go along with that." I replied, letting my lips curl slightly, still staring at her.

She smiled back gently and somehow, I could read a 'thank you' in the way she was looking at me. Perhaps she didn't want to tell me too much about herself, but her eyes became soft and I could swear it was not anything against me.

Her eyes left mine and she grabbed the straw in her glass to bring it to her mouth. I stared at her, trying to find the right words to tell her to make sure she wouldn't run away, and I noticed how shy she was. It didn't seem like it at first glance. In fact, you could think she was quite outgoing and social but it was the little things that made me realize she was timid. She didn't mind talking but she tried to avoid my gaze. She accepted my invitation but tried to remain as far away physically from me as she could. She made jokes and laughed at mine but played with her straw nervously when I looked at her.

"Look, I'm gonna be very honest with you Niall..." she held her breath and shook her head before licking her lips. "I really hate Christmas."

Her confession shocked me. I hadn't expected something like that to come out of her lips. I thought she'd tell me she was not interested, that she wanted me gone, or that she was too tired to stay... but her spilling her feelings about Christmas was something I would have never guessed. I mean, I didn't think that was even possible.

"Who doesn't like Christmas?" I asked, a bit baffled, shaking my head and frowning.

"Me. Mimi Armstrong." she chuckled, raising her eyebrows. "Seriously. The lights, and the snow, and everyone rushing in the streets to buy gifts for people they pretend to care about. And the songs... the SONGS. They're driving me insane. All these Christmas trees appearing in malls, kids crying to sit on Santa's laps because their parents lied to them all year long about being nice so a fake magical man will reward them... oh, and the horrible Christmas movies with orphans who find families on Christmas day? All crap."

I stared at her when she stopped talking. She was shaking her head, looking at her drink as she moved the straw in her glass before taking a sip. I just stared at her angelic round face and when she turned on her stool a bit, I noticed her facial expression and something in my heart twisted. Why wasn't Mimi Armstrong happy?

"That's a very cynical way to imagine Christmas." I simply said in a gentle tone.

Slowly, she turned to me, and when her eyes met mine, I felt my heart jump in my chest. Have you ever felt like someone was a total enigma, yet something attracted you to them as if you had known them for decades? Maybe we had met in an other life, maybe her aura just connected with mine or an other weird shit like that... or maybe I was just completely crazy.

"Perhaps I'm a cynical person, Niall Horan, you don't know much about me."

"Yet."

Her lips curled shyly and she chuckled. I don't know how I managed it, but by one in the morning, Mimi was genuinely laughing with me after an intense debate about Christmas, and a funny sharing of Christmas stories.

"Would you like to have one last drink in my room?" she asked, putting her empty glass on the counter and turning to me on her stool.

I felt my lips curl slightly and she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, waiting for my answer.

"Are you trying to get in my pants?"

She chuckled and raised her nose up in a cute way. "I would never do that. I barely know you."

We started laughing at the same time and I let my head fall slightly on my shoulders before we got up. I left a bill on the counter to cover for the tip and followed her to the elevator, staying slightly behind her as she walked. She kept turning around to make sure I was still there, sending me a small smile every single time, and when the doors of the elevator closed in front of us, I leaned on the wall, holding myself with the small banister behind me.

"Are you really inviting a stranger to your room?" I asked in an amused tone, hoping my words wouldn't make her change her mind.

"You're not a stranger." she argued, turning her upper body to look at me. "You're Niall Horan, from Ireland! The guy who's got a guitar for his fourth Christmas! Who gets a guitar when they're four?"

"It was a toy." I laughed. "I didn't get a guitar of my own before my teen years. I used my brother's to learn."

"Alright then!" she gave in with a big smile and a shrug. "Perhaps I don't know everything about you, but that doesn't make you a stranger."

The bell of the elevator made a 'ding' and we both heard the doors open. She took a few steps back and I walked with her as she laughed. "I'm not going to sleep with you though, I just want to make sure you're aware of that."

I smiled more and put both my hands in my pockets. "Noted."

I waited as she unlocked the door and she rushed inside, bending down to look at the bottles in the bar. She brought a bunch of tiny ones and put them on the bed before going through her bag, taking out a red and white gift bag.

"Wine?" she asked, opening the bottle. "God I'm so glad I bought them a twist cap."

"Is that a gift for..."

"My parents." she cut me, nodding quickly before shrugging. "It's okay, I can buy an other one."

We ended up sitting on the bed, face to face, hitting out plastic cups together before talking a long sip of wine. It tasted expensive but I didn't mention it as she leaned against the wall, tilting her head. She seemed to study me and I let her, finishing my glass and filling it again, doing the same with hers.

"What's your favorite Christmas song?" she finally asked before my eyes got smaller as I took the time to think.

"Baby It's Cold Outside."

She frowned and chuckled, shaking her head. "Is that even a Christmas song?"

"Actually, yes it is."

"Do they even mention Christmas in that song? I don't think so." she laughed with a shrug. "It's a winter song alright, they do mention it being cold outside, that much is obvious, but that girl singing clearly didn't go on a date with that man on Christmas."

"Why not?"

I was starting to be intrigued by her theories and even if they always ended up being pessimistic, they were still interesting and I was curious.

"She would clearly be with her family. That girl's got the family values." she pointed out, making me laugh. "Also don't you think that man's a bit pushy? He insists so much after she told him a million times she had to go. He won't let her leave and that is seriously creepy."

"Maybe he feels like she doesn't really want to leave?"

"That's what a rapist would say."

This time, I laughed a bit louder. "Well, I can't say you're wrong!"

"You should find a new favorite Christmas song." she finally said, leaning closer to grab one of the bottle waiting on the bed before looking up at me again.

Her cheeks were red, her smile was immense, and her eyes seemed to shine. It could be just alcohol but she did invite me in her room, didn't she?

"Will do, I promise." I whispered, making her smile turn into a fond one.

We stayed in silence for a while, finishing the wine bottle and glancing at each other. I wanted to tell her something clever but nothing would come to mind. Actually, a lot of things did, but nothing smart or relevant.

"You know, my parents are not really my parents." she finally admitted, making me look up at her quickly. "I mean technically and legally, they are, but biologically, they're not. I was adopted."

"Oh."

"Mmhm," she continued, pressing her lips together and pouring some vodka in her glass. The taste with the wine must have been weird but I didn't mention it. "I was 13 when I was adopted. Which makes the whole thing even harder because, I remember my real parents, you know? When you're adopted as a baby, it's different, but when you have an actual past... a story with your real parents and then you get adopted, there are way more questions left unsaid. It's not that they couldn't afford to have a baby, or that they were too young. They knew you and decided you just weren't good enough."

I felt something twist in my chest as I watched her facial expression change and her eyes water. She cleared her throat and swallowed all the vodka in her glass before making a grimace.

"So you grow up bitter, and become a rebel, because if your real parents couldn't love you, then how could two strangers do? And if they were not going to love you, then you'd at least give them reasons not to." she shrugged and her eyes finally met mine. "But hey, I didn't turn out too bad, considering."

"You're an amazing young woman, Mimi." I let out in a very soft tone. "Whoever doesn't love you is a fool."

She stared at me for a few seconds, her eyes fluttering and her lips very lightly curled into a gentle but tiny smile. She passed her hand in her hair and suddenly. the moment was over.

"What about you? What's your story?"

"Nothing like that." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and grabbing a bottle of rum.

"Perfect family? I'm not surprised."

"No family is perfect." I corrected, opening the small bottle in my hands. "My parents are divorced but they don't hate each other. I don't really get along with my brother but I love him."

"You have people who love you. People who will love you despite everything, no matter what you do, or say." she whispered, licking her lips. "That must be great."

I waited but we both remained motionless. I watched her swallow hard, trying to keep her tears in, and slowly, I got up, took all the bottles left from the bed to put them away, and walked up to her. She let me take her empty glass from her hands and I sat down next to her. She hesitated but let herself fall in my arms, pressing her face in my shirt as I held her close. I leaned my cheek on the top of her head and closed my eyes. She smelled like cocoa and candy cane, and the irony of her smelling like Christmas while also hating it made me squeeze her harder against me. When I saw Mimi, I thought she would change my life but perhaps, I was the one who could shine a little light on hers. And I would do anything I could to do it.

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan story #niall horan au #niall horan christmas story #niall horan christmas fanfic #my fanfics #iflc

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tenroseforeverandever · 3 years

Text

A Bottle of Bubbly

Characters: Ninth Doctor; Rose Tyler

Tags: Human AU; New Year’s; meet-cute; fluff; hurt/comfort;mentions of cheating; non-graphic mentions of war; drinking; strong language

Notes: Well, here I am again… fashionably late, as usual, an entry for the 31 Days of Ficmas. I wrote just two stories for Ficmas this year, and while I used multiple prompts for each, ironically, the Day 1 prompt, Snowed In, and the Day 31 prompt, New Beginnings, were the forces chiefly driving the muse for my first and second (last!) story, respectively.

The inspiration for this story was a random prompt I found online somewhere (I don’t even remember the exact wording…) The @doctorroseprompts prompt from the 31 Days of Ficmas, New Beginnings, was also inspiration for both main characters, although the words aren’t specifically stated in the text. But the spirit of them is strong and a guiding theme throughout the story. I also used the Ficmas prompts shopping and countdown, and the Winter Fic Bingo prompt night.

As always, my love and gratitude to my wonderful betas, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci. Thank-you for making me better. I’m an eternal fiddler, so I fiddled with this since they saw it… but all mistakes are mine anyway!

Summary: Rose made directly for the liquor aisle, determined that what she really wanted to bring in the New Year was a bottle of bubbly. The shop was nearly deserted, except for the unlucky few employees who had drawn the short straw for the night’s graveyard shift, so she was shocked to find another customer in the liquor aisle, standing in front of the wine shelves, his hand around the neck of the very last bottle of sparkling wine.

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A Bottle of Bubbly

Rose Tyler staggered out into the night. The pub door swung shut behind her, silencing the raucous shouts and cheers and endless chatter. As she stood on the doorstep, the bubble of silence clung around her like a hug, before dissipating into the city, replaced by the steady rumble of traffic. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs and clear the spinning of her head.

She was alone.

New Years-fucking-Eve and she was alone. Not exactly how she had planned her evening to go, but she swore to herself, it was the last bloody time, Jimmy Stone, her cheating ex-boyfriend, would ever get another chance to ruin her life.

But Rose didn’t want to think about him right now. He was now officially part of her past and could rot in hell for all she cared. What she did want to think about was enjoying the rest of the night and bringing in the New Year properly plastered. She’d already made a decent start of it with a couple glasses of wine and a few shots. She supposed she could try out a few different spots (far away from Jimmy-the-Wanker), and do a regular old pub crawl, solo-style. Dressed to kill, she reckoned she’d never be without a drink in hand and would probably have no trouble finding a bloke to pull.

A car whizzed by, drunken twats hanging out the passenger windows, catcalling at her, spouting some shite about having her “seeing fireworks all night long.” She tugged her coat tighter around herself and sighed. On second thought, shagging complete strangers wasn’t really her thing. Maybe she could meet up with Mickey, instead, at the local near the Estate. With a little coaxing, he might take her home for a cheeky shag to bring in the New Year. It wouldn’t exactly be fireworks, but it would be safe and familiar. And she wouldn’t be alone. Mickey had never been able to say no to her.

But then – she sighed, and her shoulders sagged – she’d have to explain herself, answer all his nosy questions, admit things she’d rather keep to herself for now. Everyone would know, soon enough. No doubt the Estate would be rife with the gossip of her falling-out with Jimmy by daybreak. Besides, she’d be taking Mickey away from Trisha Delaney. That wasn’t fair, doing to Trisha exactly what had just been done to her.

“For fuck’s sake,” she snorted as she stumbled onto the pavement, her head woozy with drink, “I’m worried about hurting Trisha Delaney’s feelings. The stupid cow! Clearly, I’m thinkin’ too bloody hard about this. More to the point, I’m able to think too bloody hard about this. And I’m talking to myself… Blimey, I need another drink.”

Setting out on her quest for another pub (just for drinks, no pulling, she reminded herself), she tottered down the street, swaying precariously on her too-high heels, tugging down her too-short dress as the bitter wind bit through the too-sheer fabric of her tights. This was rubbish, hopping from pub to pub. All she really wanted was something strong to drink, her warm flat, and her telly. She’d be alone, but she’d be warm and, with any luck, thoroughly pissed long before midnight.

Decision made, she hopped on the nearest bus, and half an hour later, with the effects of her earlier drinks lamentably wearing off, she trotted into the 24-hour Tesco, close to the Estate. She made directly for the liquor aisle, determined that what she really wanted to bring in the New Year was a bottle of bubbly.

The shop was nearly deserted, except for the unlucky few employees who had drawn the short straw for the night’s graveyard shift, so she was shocked to find another customer in the liquor aisle, standing in front of the wine shelves, his hand around the neck of the very last bottle of sparkling wine.

“Oi! That’s my bottle, mate!”

The man turned to her, his brow knit quizzically above his aquiline nose. “Excuse me?” he challenged in a strong Manc accent.

“That’s my bottle,” she reiterated.

“No,” he placed the bottle into his shopping basket with a tight-lipped smile, “it’s not.” Without another word, he turned his back to her and walked away up the aisle with long strides.

“Fuck,” Rose muttered through gritted teeth and rushed after his receding form. “Oi, Mister! Mister!” She caught up with him just as he reached the end of the aisle and she tugged on the battered leather sleeve of his jacket.

He swung around, rolling his eyes at the sight of her. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“Yup, jus’ me. Hello! The owner of that bottle of fizz.” She sidled up to him and flashed him what she hoped was a winning smile. She even poked her tongue between her teeth. That always had blokes dribbling on their shirts.

Much to Rose’s disappointment, the man remained unmoved, stony-faced as ever. Then with a snort, he turned and walked away from her once more.

“Oi! Mister!” she yelped, scurrying to catch up to him again. “You can’t jus’ go swannin’ off like that…”

He didn’t even break his stride. “Yes, I can. ‘Ere I am. This is me, swannin’ off.” He gave the shopping basket a defiant little shake.

Rose knew she should just give it up at this point, go back to the liquor aisle and find something different to drink, but she was determined to have that wine. After having had her night ruined, she reckoned she deserved to have something special. “Hey, Mister! C’mon! You can’t just walk away. That’s not fair. Mister! Mist– Oooph!” She nearly crashed into him when he suddenly stopped in front of her.

He spun around and glared at her. “Seems fair enough to me. W’at isn’ fair is you not lettin’ me do my shoppin’ in peace. Now, scram!”

Rose held her ground, meeting his gaze. He was a striking figure, quite a bit older than she, dark and brooding, his features unconventionally handsome below his military haircut. She should have been intimidated, but instead she found herself getting lost in the blue of his eyes as they flashed down at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I could call security, ya know! Tell them you took it from me. So, it’s your choice. Hand it over, or I’ll start screamin’ for help.”

He scoffed. “Is that supposed to sound tough?”

“Sort of.”

He called her bluff, “Doesn’t work,” and started walking again, but this time she tripped along by his side. She wasn’t going to let him go, not while he still had that bottle.

“Mister… I need that wine! If you knew what I’ve been through tonight…”

“You need to leave me alone. Looks to me like you’ve ‘ad quite enough to drink already.”

“C’mon, Mister. Please.”

“No! An’ it’s Doctor.”

Rose quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You keep calling me ‘Mister’. If you’re so set on using honorifics, you’d better use the right one. I go by Doctor.”

“Doctor? Is that supposed to sound impressive?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“If you’re a doctor, how comes you’re shoppin’ at a 24-hour Tesco… in Peckham?”

“I live ‘ere. Jus’ ‘round the corner.” He stopped at the deli counter and tossed some packages of sandwich meats and some cheese into his basket.

“What? On the estate? You must be new. I haven’ seen you ‘round ‘ere before.”

“That’s ‘cause I jus’ moved in this afternoon, me, and I’m having this champagne (or whatever the hell it is) to celebrate.”

“Blimey, don’t think we’ve ever had a doctor livin’ on the estate, before.” Rose narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at him, curious. “W’at’s a doctor doin’ livin’ ‘ere anyway?”

He didn’t speak, just stared at her with eyes cold as ice, and his jaw set and tense, and Rose bit her lip, wishing she could take back her brazen words. It was none of her business why anyone might need council housing.

“Erm... Doctor, you’re gonna need some bread to go with that other stuff,” she ventured, attempting to make up for her thoughtlessness, “an’ some milk and tea, maybe some eggs. And a couple cans of beans. Ya can’t go wrong wi’ beans-on-toast.” She linked her arm with his and proceeded to lead him through the shop.

As Rose nattered away to him, he maintained a detached silence, except to offer bewildered grunts to her various queries about the items she heaped into his basket. Finally, as she placed a box of tea on top of the mound, he smirked down at her, and spoke: “I hope you’re not attempting to curry favour so I’ll give up the bubbly.”

“Never gave it a second thought,” she fibbed with a cheeky grin. Honestly, she just wanted to make it up to him for being rude, but she had hoped, maybe…

He pulled the bottle out of the basket to peer at it. “It’s proper British Fizz, you know.”

“Oooh, lovely! Somethin’ a bit posh. Don’t know w’at it’s doin’ here, in a Tesco on the flippin’ estate. Guess they reckoned people wouldn’t be thinkin’ about the cost so much when they’re bringin’ in the New Year.”

“Yeah, gonna cost me an arm and a leg, this is.”

“The price don’t matter to me. Not tonight. I’d be happy to take it off your hands if you’re having second thoughts…”

“Ahem… nope.” He placed it back into the shopping basket. “Worth every penny, this. I have plans for this fizz.”

“Yeah,” Rose muttered, rolling her eyes, “so did I.”

They headed toward the checkout each lost in their own thoughts. “So, what’s your story, then?” he asked after a few moments. “Tell me, what makes you so deserving of this posh beverage on New Year’s Eve?”

Rose shrugged, her problems seeming rather small and distant, now.

“C’mon then. You said earlier, you’d had a rough night of it. So?”

“You sure you wanna hear me rattle on? It’s pathetic, really.”

“I’ve been listenin’ to you rattle on non-stop for the las’ twenty minutes, anyway. So, I’m all ears… and no jokes about these silly things hangin’ off the side of me head.”

“I would never! ‘Sides, there’s nothin’ wrong wi’ them. They suit you.”

He looked unconvinced by her compliment. “Well… out with it then,” he insisted, changing the subject back to Rose as he began to load his groceries onto the checkout counter. “I’m waitin’ on this great tale of woe.”

“Alright, you asked for it.”

“Yes, I did!”

“Okay, so, earlier tonight, I found my tosser of a boyfriend (ex-boyfriend now, by the way, and good bloody riddance!) out back of the pub, gettin’ a leg-over with one of the servers. It was humiliatin’. And you better believe I told him what he could do with his bloody– Well anyway, I ended up slappin’ him (and fuck that felt good!) and walked out. Thought about goin’ to a few other pubs, but I decided I really just wanted to go home, watch the countdown on the New Year’s Eve Fireworks programme, an’ get hammered in peace. I s’pose I jus’ wanted the wine to make me feel a bit more… special.

“And that’s about it. See? Pathetic. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She wagged her finger at him.

“Oi, not pathetic at all, Miss, erm… Blimey, I don’t even know your name.”

“Since we’re neighbors now, I s’pose I should probably tell ya, yeah? It’s Rose… Rose Tyler.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m John Smith,” he returned.

“John Smith? That’s it? Pull the other one! John Smith?”

His shoulders stiffened. “Well, if you don’t like it, you can jus’–”

“Nah, nah, nah, it’s fine. It’s nice and, erm… straightforward.” Rose couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over her face at his sudden offence. “It’s jus’ I think from now on you’ll always be the Doctor to me.”

“Fine...” he huffed, shaking his head at her as he paid for his order and gathered his bags. “Anyroad, gettin’ back to your tale: it sounds to me like you’re well shot of that stupid ape boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend. And yeah, Jimmy’s a right arsehole. To be honest, I don’t really feel all that upset about it. Thought I’d be gutted, yeah? But all I can think is that it’s no great loss. Reckon it was a long time comin’; shoulda dumped him ages ago.”

They walked out the doors of the Tesco and headed in the direction of Powell Estate.

She shrugged, adding, “I’m mostly just pissed off that he ruined my plans for New Year’s.”

“Yeah, rightly so!”

They walked in slightly awkward silence for a short time before Rose braved asking the enigmatic Doctor more about himself. “So… you’re a medical doctor, then?”

“Yup. Was a doctor in the military for years. Resigned my commission ‘bout a year back. Figured I’d seen enough…”

Rose glanced up at him, frowning concern at the tenson etched on his face again. “What are your plans now?” she asked, hoping to take him out of whatever unspoken horrors lingered in his past.

“I’ve always planned to start my own practice, me. Thought I could open one right here on the Estate.”

“Blimey, mate, it’s a war zone here too, sometimes.”

He grunted. “All the more reason you need a doctor.”

“Can’t argue wi’ that. We haven’t had a doctor ‘ere for years. The old one jus’ cleared off one day, no notice. He was just gone. His clinic is still there, though, between the chemist and the launderette. No one’s let it. Bet it’s a bargain!”

“You think?” He offered her a smug smile. “Already made arrangements, me.”

“But that’s brilliant!” Rose cheered, grabbing his arm and bouncing up and down. “When do you take possession?”

“Beginnin’ o’ next week,” he said as they strolled into the Powell Estate quad. “But it’ll be a bit before I can get everything set up properly. Plus, I have my flat to sort out. Boxes everywhere.”

“Don’t ya have some mates to help ya out?”

“Nope. There’s no one else. Jus’ me.” His words were blunt, his voice rough with emotion.

Rose watched his Adam’s apple bob heavily and grabbed onto his hand. “W’at happened? Doctor?”

He swallowed again and looked down at their joined hands.

Rose gripped a little tighter, but he wriggled his hand free of hers, leaving behind an aching emptiness deep in her heart. She ducked her head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. I jus’… Oh, never mind.”

The strained silence returned for another minute or so as they walked, then he sighed. “Rose, war changes a person. I came back a very different man. I had plans, me. Was goin’ to start a practice as soon as I resigned my commission. Even had a place all set to go in my hometown. But I couldn’t make a go of it. Too much baggage. I haven’t been able to keep a steady job, all this time. And I lost people, good people, because they couldn’t take any more of my shit. My mates, my fiancée. One way or another, they’re all gone, and I can’t say I blame ‘em. That’s who I am, now. I drive everyone away from me.”

Rose’s heart swelled with compassion. “There’s me…”

They paused as they approached the entranceway to Rose’s building, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes at her and offering a guarded smile. “Yeah, you I can’t seem to get rid of.”

“I’m just too good.” She beamed at him, poking her tongue between her teeth again. This time, she noted, his eyes drifted to her mouth.

“No, you’re jus’ too drunk.”

“Uggghh,” she groaned, “I wish. I never got a bottle from the shop, after all.”

Grumbling deep in his throat, he dug in his shopping bag and extracted the bottle of sparkling wine. “There you go. Happy New Year. Take this and go home and celebrate your freedom from that twat. Now, go on, forget me, Rose Tyler.” He pressed the bottle into her hand and turned away, striding off toward the building opposite hers.

Rose watched him go, feeling rather lost. Numbly, she headed toward the staircase of her building, the bottle dangling from her fingers. She had her prize, but somehow it seemed a hollow victory.

She stopped and turned back. The Doctor was halfway across the quad, his figure illuminated by the dim sparkle of fairy lights strung from the balconies above. “Wait, Doctor,” she blurted. When he paused, she wasted no time rushing forward to meet him.

“Thought I told you to forget me,” he growled.

She was undeterred. “I’m not havin’ you sittin’ up in that empty flat by yourself.” Impulsively, she perched up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Come to mine. Mum won’t be home ‘til tomorrow anyway, and I think we both deserve this bottle of bubbly, wouldn’t ya say? Better with two, yeah.”

“Erm…” He gazed down at her, his gruffness replaced with a sad, gentle smile that teased at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not on the pull or anything,” she insisted… a little too forcefully. “Blimey!” she laughed, her cheeks burning. “I mean we jus’ met…”

He chuckled too. “And you were trying to steal my bubbly. You’re weren’t off to the best start, anyway, to be honest.”

“Oi!” She grabbed him by his sleeve and tugged him toward her building. “Wait! Hold on,” she paused a few seconds later, sniffing the air, “do you smell chips?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Morrison’s must still be open! I want chips!”

“Me too.”

“And since you brought the bottle, the chips are on me! You’re in for a treat! Best chips on the planet, Morrison’s, an’ they’re right here on the estate. C’mon!”

“All right! Chips it is! And if we’re still hungry later, you can’t go wrong wi’ beans-on-toast.” They both laughed as he held up his bag of shopping. Then he clasped Rose’s hand in his, the gesture warming her to the core. “Lead the way!”

As they walked towards the chippy, Rose leaned her head against John Smith’s shoulder and gave his hand a little squeeze. Her evening, which had started out quite wretched, had completely turned around, and was now looking more promising than she could ever have imagined. Despite his wine-hogging tendencies, she rather thought she was going to enjoy being the Doctor’s neighbor.

“You know what, Doctor,” she grinned up at him, “I bet we’re going to have a really great year!”

#doctorroseprompts #nine x rose #human au #31 days of ficmas #winterficbingo #meet cute #fluff #hurt/comfort #strong language #new year #drinking #cheating #non-graphic mentions of war #ficandchips #tenroseforeverandever's fic

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infiniteoddball · 3 years

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A/n: Chapter One . I know I don’t usually switch POV’s in stories, but for this story, it feels quite relevant and needed. This story is going to be heavily based in Angst & some happiness and smartassery here and there. (In exciting news! this marks my 1,000 post!) Tags: Angst; Hints at Sex: Talks of possible sexual abuse Tagging: @storiesofsvu @svushots @barsonaddict @wall1418 @vivis-ghost-wife @teyamarra

Olivia sat across from Barba, pushing her food around her plate. She didn’t know what to say about her earlier conversation, or if she should even bring it up. Rita’s words sat heavily in her conscious. She didn’t know what to make of it. She knew she could possibly be going down a rabbit hole, or she might be right. She took a sip of her wine, but still stayed silent.

“Okay, spill. What is going on?” He quipped.

“Nothing...I mean...” Olivia sighed, “It’s just, this conversation that I had with Rita is not sitting well with me. It feels like she confessed something but didn’t at the same time.”

“Olivia,” He evenly said, “What are you talking about? I am completely lost here.”

“You know Rita better than me. Why did she leave the district attorney’s office?” Olivia looked up at him, wondering why she was thinking so heavily into this.

“Why are you asking? What conversation?”

“She said something to me today that makes me think she left because of abuse,” She bit her lip, pushing her semi-full plate away, “I mean-What she said was concerning to me. I have never seen her so small. She has never been that sloppy in court...” Olivia’s words drifted off as she slipped into her thoughts.

“Liv,” Rafael snapped his fingers to pull her attention back, “Rita? Sloppy? What are you talking about? Hello?” He took her hand into his, running his thumb over her knuckles, “Talk to me.”

Olivia blushed, turning her hand upwards as she grazed her fingers over his wrist, “Okay. I have never seen Rita, in all these years, threatened to be held in contempt of court. Have you ever seen that happen with her? I mean, not only that, but Carisi told me that she was semi-combative with the judge. I am pretty sure that didn’t help Chip Gallagher. Also, I mean, I have seen her be hostile with witness, but only ever when she has asked to treat them like a hostile witness. However, something just...I honestly don’t know if I am overthinking this. ”

Rafael shook his head, “Never. But why are you asking about her leaving the district attorney? Does this have to do with the conversation you had with her?”

“Today, I was in the elevator with her. I asked her why she was still defending men like Chip Gallagher. She said if I didn’t get on the proper side that my career would become marginalized. Normally, that isn’t something that bothers me, but it was the way that Rita said it. She said it as if it was a warning that she shouldn’t be giving. More so, it was the last thing she said to me that got me. She said, verbatim, ‘my advice...lie back and pretend you’re enjoying it.’ I got a chill down my spine. It was almost like she shrunk by two inches after she said that.” Liv looked up at Rafael, “What do you think? Maybe this might not be anything, but she also wasn’t wearing her normal tailored suits. What she was wearing was kind of baggy on her.”

“Rita left the District Attorney after losing a case that would have been hard on anyone. She fought harder than I ever saw her fight. She wanted justice for her victim that she was defending, but she lost. She seemed very disconnected, disillusioned and quite frankly? Emotional. Especially since she was very close with the victim. It was the first and last time I saw her connect past a professional relationship with a victim, or currently known as a client.” Rafael sighed heavily, “She never disclosed to me if that is what you are getting at. As far as I know, there were no disclosures or firings for abuse of power the year that she left, but I can always check for you.” Rafael stated.

Olivia leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, “Am I overthinking this?”

Rafael leaned forward, pausing as he kissed her briefly, “With what you have right now, I would call it circumstantial, but in all my years I have known you, you have never been wrong about these kinds of things. Why are you second guessing yourself now?”

“Because it’s Rita Calhoun. For as long as I have known Rita Calhoun, this is completely out of her realm of behavior. Wait, you said she was connected with the victim? What was the case?”

“I don’t know Liv. That was years ago. Look, all I can remember is she was almost charged with contempt. Then that night, she told me over a glass of bourbon that she put her notice in effective immediately. A few weeks later, I was facing her in court.” Rafael shrugged.

“Contempt? Rafi, I know I am grasping for straws, but this has got to be connected. Was she close to anyone else?”

“Liv,” Rafael cupped her cheeks, tilting her head upwards, “Rabbit hole. You are grasping for straws. Why don’t you talk to her? She disclosed something to you. Or she was warning you. Either way, you need to talk to her before you go jumping to conclusions, because clearly, whatever it is that she is trying to tell you is important and it will effect you one way or another.”

“Rafael I am not-“

Her words were cut short as Rafael pulled her in for a long, languid kiss. He slowly pulled away, “Let’s go to bed before you get too far in.” He grinned.

—————————————

Olivia threw the covers back, getting up nearly an hour before her alarm would be going off. She stood, pulling her shirt and panties on before she made her way to the bathroom. She managed to sleep a few hours since Rafael had worn her out, but this...it just wasn’t sitting well with her. Everything that Rafael had told her was making her mind race.

She flicked the handle upwards on the sink, getting herself a glass of water before making herself comfortable on Rafael’s couch. She sipped her drink slowly, thinking about Rita. She sighed deeply, massaging her temple. She felt her stomach clench. She knew, deep down, Rita wasn’t a person that got sloppy. She knew that she wasn’t crazy. Something happened to Rita.

She glanced at the clock, sighing with the fact that it was only six am. She dropped head against the back of the couch as she sank further into the comfortable fabric. She finished her drink before standing. She grabbed one of his legal pads before sitting at his desk, “She was admitting something to me,” She mumbled.

By the time Olivia had to get ready for work, she had a basic timeline sketched out. She also had written down any names of judges, current or present, that were known for their abuse. Olivia was so lost in thought that she nearly screamed as Rafael grazed his lips along her neck.

“When did you get up?”

“A couple of hours ago,” She said honestly, flipping the notepad over, “I need to get going, I will call you when I can come over again,” She gave him a hurried kiss before leaving him in the dining room to get dressed.

*** “Rita!” Olivia called as she ran down the courthouse steps, “Hey! Got a minute?”

Rita glanced over her shoulder, feeling her stomach clench, “Benson, not really. I am headed to meet a client.”

Olivia drank in the fact that she was wearing a tailored pants suit, “I can walk and talk,” She stated as she caught up with Rita, “I just wanted to ask you a question!” Olivia gently touched Rita’s arm to catch her attention, “Why did you leave the district attorney?”

Rita felt her stomach drop as she turned to face Olivia, “Why are you asking me about this?”

“Because you are hiding something,” Olivia bluntly stated, “You admitted something to me in that elevator. What I can’t figure out if it was intentional or to protect me.”

Rita looked over her face, knowing she was screwed. The past was finally coming to haunt her, “I regularly go up against you in court defending rapists, and criminals. Now, you are questioning why I am doing this?”

“Yes.”

Rita rubbed her temple, turning away from her, “I have to go. I don’t have time for this.”

Olivia grabbed her elbow, standing in front of her, “Clearly you do if you were acting so out of character to the point you basically insinuated that I should turn a blind eye to corruption. What happened?” She questioned.

Rita felt her nostrils flare as she took a deep breath, “I grew close to a victim named Natalie Burse and I promised her that I would win her case. A case that broke the both of us. Are you done with your witch hunt now?!” She snapped.

Olivia dropped her arm, “I have more questions. Call me when you can,” She stated as she stepped out of her way. Olivia waited until she was around the corner before she called Fin, “Hey, I need you to dig up everything that you can with a victim by the name of Natalie Burse.”

#frenzied notions #rita calhoun #barson #rafael barba #law and order: svu #SVU #fic #calhoun #original character

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laundryandtaxes · 2 years

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I’m a barback and I want to start bartending so I can make more money. I’m wondering if it’s a problem that I’m personally sober (it isn’t a problem for ME to work around alcohol, just would it be a hinderance to doing the job somehow) , and also is possible to learn how to make drinks if I don’t try them. I feel like a know how to make a fair amount of classic cocktails from when I used to drink but the restaurant I work at currently has a lot of non-standard drinks idk how to make.

That depends on a number of factors! If by "sober" you mean that you won't even straw taste new cocktails, then yes I think that's a massive barrier to becoming a good bartender because it's extremely, extremely difficult to actually understand what different things and especially wines taste like without tasting them yourself, and that's a skill you need to have to be a good bartender. A good bartender should be able tl to have someone tell them, "I often like x kind of wine" and extrapolate from that what the guest would like. But even if you won't straw taste things, it's not impossible- one of our best servers is sober and doesn't straw taste drinks but had an extensive period of time wherein he did drink, so he knows plenty about what different wines, etc, taste like. If you also have that experience then being sober is not an issue. It's also definitely NOT a barrier with house cocktails- I assure you, if your restaurant has house cocktails then a bartender is using a set recipe to make each one of those, so you memorize them like any other drink- and if your restaurant is the kind of place that just does house cocktails and classics and maybe a few wines, then being sober should not be an impediment at all. It's really where extensive wine and bottle lists are involved that having experience tasting the beverages helps a lot. I hope this helps!

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sunsoothed · 3 years

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muse

Jugyeong needs to amend her understanding of best friends.

han seojun\kang sujin | rated t | 3.3k words | college au, pining, jealousy | outsider pov

read on ao3

enjoy!

Im Jugyeong, frankly, has never seen someone quite like Han Seojun. He’s a muted, ephemeral kind of beauty, someone you get caught staring at in class, or someone you get caught staring at while eating, or someone you get caught staring at, period.

He’s also someone you stare at when they’re not around, which is why Jugyeong is only shocked out of her daze when from beside her, Sua says his name.

“Wasn’t Han Seojun supposed to be here?”

They’re sitting around a large table for lunch, with people Jugyeong only half-knows, because she’d been a fool to transfer colleges in her second year.

“Was he?” Someone opposite her pipes up. “I’ll call him.”

That makes Jugyeong raise her eyes. Someone so close to Han Seojun that they can just call him? When she looks up, it’s the one other female student in her statistics class.

Kang Sujin, was it?

Kang Sujin brings her phone to her ear, and a response seems to come within a moment, for she asks, “Did you just wake up?”

To which she must get a denial, because she then says, “You had lunch plans.”

Everyone’s peering suspiciously into Sujin’s space, so Jugyeong supposes it isn’t odd for her to do so, too.

Sudden concern fills Sujin’s voice. “What, did you have a late night?”

And then she’s back to plain informative. “Mmh. Not too far. I think we all have a good half an hour or so to spare.”

And Seojun must say something funny, because Sujin laughs, hums, and hangs up with a See you.

“He should be here soon. He decided to work late on a project last night because he didn’t have any classes this morning.”

There’s a collective ahh, we understand, before everyone gets back to their food and conversation. Sua places a slice of meat in her bowl, Sujin unearths a bottle of banana milk from somewhere, and on her other side, Taehoon slurps his ramyeon loudly. Under the table, Jugyeong’s heels click with the floor in anticipation.

When he does arrive, some ten-twelve minutes later, He’s beyond words. Hair slightly unkempt, wearing a beige coat and carrying another in the crook of his arm. He has a pink sweater on underneath, as much as Jugyeong can make out, and his white shoes radiate a slight dichotomy from his usual vibe.

“Shift,” He says, opposite Jugyeong, as he approaches them. Kang Sujin, who’d been close enough to call him, tilts her head back to catch sight of him.

She blinks, then juts her jaw to the space beside Taehoon.“There’s space there —”

“Just shift.” Seojun insists, an utterly adorable whine to his voice. Gosh, Jugyeong feels her cheeks reddening.

But Sujin only sighs and makes reluctant way for him. “Come, sit.”

Seojun gives a sort-of grimace, sort-of smile. They seem close. He hands her the coat he was carrying, too. “You left this behind.”

“Ah, right,” Sujin says, taking the coat from him. “No wonder I’ve been feeling chilly all day.”

He seems to have some quippy response prepared, but Sujin beats him to it.

“Your hair’s still wet,” She says. She holds a hand to his forehead, fingers brushing against the strands.

Seojun hums. “I was in the shower when you called.” He does nothing to remove her hand. They must be very close.

“Did I disturb you?”

He clicks his tongue, waving her worry away. He’s so attractive.

Sujin picks up her half-drunk banana milk. She hands it to him. “Here, by the way.”

She could’ve just bought him a new one. What was the point of this?

But Han Seojun takes a sip like it’s nothing, mouth on the straw that Sujin had drunk from. He swallows and pulls a face. “Tastes like your chapstick. I don't want it.”

Best friends, Jugyeong thinks. They must be best friends.

Unfazed, Sujin grins. “Lucky for you…” And she unearths another bottle of banana milk.“I have another one.”

Han Seojun smiles, half his mouth quirked up and a fond exasperation in his eyes. He easily accepts the bottle, pierces the straw through, and holds it up. “Cheers.”

“Change your position now!”

The party’s in full-swing. As full-swingy as it can get in Jugyeong’s cramped apartment, at least. It’s been a day since Jugyeong managed to meet Han Seojun. And now he’s here, in her apartment, and they’re playing Spin the Bottle, and there are very, very less people.

Taehoon groans, the bottle having landed on him and empty air for the second time. “This game is stupid —”

“Shut up,” Sua implores. “We’re all having fun. Who’s next?”

“Spin it!”

So Sua spins the bottle, and they wait in anticipation for it to land on someone. It’s Kang Sujin.

“How lucky…” Jugyeong hears Taehoon say under his breath. Then she looks up. It’s Kang Sujin and her.

“If you’re uncomfortable,” Sujin starts, hand already on her shot glass to allow Jugyeong to skip the turn. But Jugyeong shakes her head.

“I’ve just… never kissed a girl before.” The confession is sudden, but no one is perturbed.

“It’s the same as kissing a boy,” Sujin supplies oh-so-helpfully. She leans in, and Jugyeong, heart hammering, leans in too, and it’s over in a second.

“You don’t take this stuff seriously, do you?” Jugyeong asks, a sudden energy in her. She meets Sujin’s eyes.

“Not at all.” Sujin smiles.

The game continues. “Your turn to spin.”

Jugyeong gulps, suddenly in need of a sobering smack to the head because what the fuck —

“Sujin again!” Some errant voice declares. Sujin and Seojun.

They seemed pretty close that morning, so maybe this isn’t a big deal? But Sujin takes a shot, and Jugyeong’s confused now. They shared that banana milk this morning, didn’t they? Possibly tipsy, Jugyeong asks, “Hey, why’re you drinking —”

It takes Han Seojun a second, but then he says, “Ah, that,” like this is all making sense to him, and he, too, takes a shot.

And then they kiss — no, maul each other’s faces, and it’s the most erotic and the most disgusting thing Jugyeong’s seen in her life. When they pull apart, completely cool, Seojun wipes a trail of spit and alcohol from his chin and licks his fingers. Oh god. Jugyeong’s abdomen hollows.

There is an understandably long silence.

Eventually, Taehoon swallows, and says, weakly, “You two…”

“It’s a thing we do,” Sujin informs, nonchalant.

“I thought you said you weren’t together.”

“We aren’t.”

“Home, now?”

Slurred, Sujin replies, “Mmm.”

Jugyeong catches the conversation on the periphery, pulling her own shoes on in the outroom of the restaurant. It was a good choice these people had made; the food was good, the wine was mild, and the effects were a pleasant buzz.

“Come,” Seojun’s even more pleasant enters her earshot. “Let’s put on our shoes…”

Jugyeong likes to think he’s talking to her. But leaning against the wall, she can see, with clarity, that he’s addressing only Sujin. Oh, woe, Jugyeong sighs. She watches Sujin’s attempt at balance while drunk, watches her try and slip on her shoes, try, so considerately, because Seojun’s watching over her. She sees him, fond, as he slips his fingers beside Sujin’s and helps her slide her feet in. She gulps.

“Are you taking Sujin home?” Alas, there must always be an unwelcome distraction. Jugyeong can’t remember this guy’s name, but it must be as irritating as his face.

Seojun must feel the same, for he replies with a much-too-cordial, much-too-gruff yes.

“You’re familiar with where she lives?” The guy questions, throwing his weight around. He leans obstructively over the wall against which Sujin stands. “She’s drunk, would she trust you enough?”

It’s an awkward situation. Seojun is grimacing, and Jugyeong, considerably removed by context but very much involved by space, grimaces as well. Seojun seems to have a non-threatening reply prepared, but Sujin beats him to it, aggression and distraught where she stands, now, shaky.

“Yah, Park - Park whatever your name is, how dare you say that to Seojun?”

And this Park whatever-your-name is opens his mouth in affront, drunk breath diffusing around the room. “I —”

“Sujin-ah —”

Sujin continues. “This bastard. You don’t know anything about us.”

She looks like a kitten whose fur is standing on edge, anger in the face of fear.

“He doesn’t,” Seojun coaxes, still-rational. Jugyeong has the sudden urge to laugh.

He tries again, hand firm on Sujin’s shoulder.“Let’s just go —”

But Sujin doesn’t budge. She holds an accusatory finger to the guy’s face, which has, somehow, turned a nauseated shade, and declares, “We’re best friends, okay?”

Best friends, Jugyeong continues to ruminate, some mornings later as they meet up to study. She watches Seojun with his messy hair tapping the end of his pencil against the sheet he’s working on. He looks distracted. There’s also something very distracting about him, and Jugyeong’s sure it’s caught more than her eye. Seojun’s eye, that it. He’s wearing kajal, and he’s sporting some… averagely-done smokey-eye look, which she’s just itching to correct.

Seojun plants the pencil behind his ear and picks up his phone, oblivious to Jugyeong’s inner turmoil, though she sits opposite him and very much in his view. He’s typing something, a light furrow between his brows. Then he puts down his phone, and looks at the sheet he’d been sketching on for the better part of the hour, and sighs with great displeasure.

Jugyeong sets her own eyes to her work, a little guiltily. She shouldn’t be watching him like this.

Eyes on the table, she sees Seojun pull out a different pencil from his pencil case and get to work. Hands deft, hands smooth, he’s drawing arching strokes when the quiet of the studio is interrupted by the door opening. Almost everyone turns at the sound on instinct, then drop their attention once they notice another student. Jugyeong registers that it’s Sujin. She also registers that Seojun hasn’t glanced up from his work.

He does, then, when Sujin first plucks the pencil he’d tucked behind his ear, second deposits a thermos upon the desk.

“For your throat,” she greets. She waves to Jugyeong. Jugyeong waves back.

Seojun nods. He applies his finishing touches to the sketch, then looks up. “Thanks, Sujin-ah.”

“No need,” Sujin hums. She places the displaced pencil on the table, ruffles Seojun’s already unkempt hair, and waves goodbye to Jugyeong.

Jugyeong waves back.

Shoes, again, Jugyeong’s place, again. It’s a pattern, she thinks. Or wishes to think, with finality, but unfortunately things involving Han Seojun are always demanding to be overthought. He had shown up in some flowy palazzo pants and a crop-top that Sua swore she had seen Sujin wear once. He had looked good.

Some considerable amount of shots later, however, his hair had been styled out f its artful mess to a regular mess, and his lipstick had smudged from the amount of people he had kissed. And Jugyeong had stood, watching, as her turn never came. And as, customarily, Seojun and Sujin drank out of each other’s mouths.

And here, again, she watches, as Sujin helps Seojun put his shoes on.

“You sure you can walk in that?” She’s asking, kneeling on the floor, very much proposal-like. In one hand she holds the heels Seojun had sauntered in wearing.

Seojun hiccups. “Probably… not.”

Sujin smiles up at him, fond, shakes her head. She turns to the side, glances somewhat into the apartment. Catches Jugyeong’s eye. “Hey, Jugyeong, do you have any flats?”

Jugyeong snaps out of her reverie. Her mouth hangs open for a moment, uncomprehending, before she processes the words. “I do, just a moment.”

Han Seojun is borrowing her shoes. Jugyeong fishes out her best pair of flats, a sleek black pair that hasn’t seen the light of day for a good few months. She tucks her hair behind her ears before walking out of her room; for what, she doesn’t know.

Gulping, heart racing, Jugyeong hands the shoes to Sujin. “Here.”

Sujin takes them with a somewhat distracted smile, one hand reaching for the shoes, one hand keeping Seojun upright. “Thanks, Jugyeong.”

Jugyeong finds herself gulping once again, watching Sujin crouch down and slip the flats onto Seojun’s feet, familiarity evident in her actions. She doesn’t entertain that line of thought any further.

And then Han Seojun speaks, voice off in the most adorable way, a little high, well past tipsy. “What, what — are you going propose to me?”

Sujin finds amusement in that. She smiles, laughs, stands up to clap a hand on Seojun’s shoulder. “Not yet.”

Seojun nods. He leans against Sujin, expectant of her support, Jugyeong looks away as Sujin wraps a hand around his waist.

“You can —” she clears her throat and tries again, “You can leave his shoes here,” Jugyeong suggests, holding out an awkward hand.

Sujin brushes her off, not rudely, more preoccupied with the very drunk Seojun-like mass on her shoulder. “It’s fine, I’ll carry them back,” she says. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime,” Jugyeong whispers, long after they’ve left her house.

“Would you like some breakfast?”

That has to be a pickup line. Jugyeong blushes terribly.

“Ah- ah, that would be really nice, actually.”

Seojun’s ever-polite, guiding her into the house and pulling a chair at the kitchen island out for her. It’s not a big space, but it’s well-maintained. Either he’s well-off or he’s taken a loan he’ll need to spend a good half of his life paying back.

“Come, sit at the table.”

Jugyeong nods and takes a grateful seat. Seojun busies himself with something steaming on the gas, his well-dressed back facing her. He’s worn those skimpy white blouses before, and they really complement his frame.

“We don’t eat with too much spice,” He calls over, stirring the... stew? Jugyeong isn’t sure. “I hope that’s fine.”

“That’s okay,” She immediately reassures. “I don’t mind.” We…?

The we comes in the form of one Kang Sujin, trudging to the kitchen in an oversized t-shirt and nothing else, immediately locating Seojun and holding him in a death grip from behind. Jugyeong wonders how he’s moving with Sujin clinging to him like that.

Finally, the koala speaks, voice grogging. “Jun-ah….”

“You’re up?” Seojun hums, unperturbed. Must be a common occurrence, Jugyeong thinks, with her already stilted hopes. How wonderful.

“Barely.” Sujin exhales, arms loosening their hold slightly. She rests the side of her head against Seojun’s back, eyes blinking open to Jugyeong.

“Hello, Jugyeong.” She says. “Good morning?”

Taken aback, Jugyeong just about manages to reply, “Good - Good morning.”

“Mm.” Sujin nods back, solemn. “If you say so.”

Seojun huffs out a laugh at that. “You nutcase,” He says affectionately. “Go sit at the table. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

Sujin nods again, dragging herself to the kitchen island, sitting beside Jugyeong. “You guys have that project thing, don’t you?”

Jugyeong hums, now in safer waters. “It’s an installation piece.”

“What are you…” Sujin leans on her arms, “What are you installing?”

Seojun laughs, again, affectionate, again.

“It’s not exactly that,” Jugyeong tries to explain. “It’s an artwork. Seojun is doing the woodwork and I’m painting.”

“So you’re not installing it anywhere?”

“I suppose we are,” Jugyeong supposes. “It’ll need to find a place in the studio and then, hopefully, the exhibition.”

Sujin nods along, having understood it in her own way. Seojun sets two bowls of noodles and stew in front of them by then.

Jugyeong intends to thank him, but she’s cut-off by Sujin gasping, “Is that mine?”

She clutches the sleeve of Seojun’s white blouse. Seojun, in turn, grabs a fistful of her t-shirt. “Is that mine?”

“Fair,” Sujin acquiesces, letting go first. “Fair enough.”

Seojun smiles a cordial smile, then sits opposite Sujin.

“Do you have less crockery?” Jugyeong finds herself asking instead, for Seojun’s eating right out of Sujin’s bowl.

He shakes his head with his mouth full, then swallows and answers, “This one’s just a bitch about doing the dishes. Less dishes used, less dishes to wash.”

“That’s not it,” Sujin weakly protests, picking up the chopsticks beside her, finally gaining some life. “It’s saving water.”

“You shouldn’t make fun of such a serious thing —”

“I’m not making fun of anything —”

These two, Jugyeong marvels. They really are something, aren’t they?

It’s a considerably slow day. Jugyeong’s managed to get her upcoming deadlines pushed back, so she can procrastinate her work some more, and maybe accompany Sua when she’s out for a smoke. That is, of course, what Jugyeong assumes she does.

Sua is standing with the others on the terrace, a semi circle formed between them.

“I heard about that Min Jongho, but you’re saying Oh Namsung was also involved? Isn’t that going to blow up in his father’s face?”

Jugyeong takes a step closer. She can recognise those names, that’s those two irritating guys who usually sit at the far end of the workshop.

“Possession of drugs is too serious of a thing for his father to escape from,” Taehoon chimes in. He looks up, sighing, when he catches sight of Jugyeong.

“Oh, Jugyeong!”

She meets his eyes, innocent. “Hm?”

“Come join us,” Sua beckons, already trying to reach for her arm. Jugyeong takes a step forward, absorbed into their circle.

“Did you hear about what Min Jongho did?”

She sakes her head. “No clue.”

“He was caught with marijuana,” Sujin explains, and oof, Jugyeong can’t avoid her now, can she?

“That’s… pretty serious,” she says. “How did people find out?”

“Someone snitched,” one of the others hisses. “He had a party the other night — remember the one where that fucker got that cheap alcohol? Like ten people got the worst hangovers — wait, that’s not the point — they were smoking up, someone found them and secretly reported it.”

“I think there’s more to it than we’re seeing,” Sujin diffuses. “It’s not possible that that was it. No one has those kind of morals around us.”

“What do you know,” Taehoon refutes. “You’re not an art student, Sujin.”

“My apologies for not having such an outlook on the world, your lordship,” she mocks, face intentionally one of surface politeness. “What do you mean you’re not an art student? Seojunnie’s always dragging me into his work.”

“That’s because you’re his muse —”

“Convenient human subject, you mean,” Sujin cuts off, still good-natured.

Jugyeong gets it, that kind of attention she must receive from Seojun may have the potential to be exhausting. Of course Jugyeong gets it. Of course she does. There’s no reason that she needs to stop looking at Sujin’s face —

And arrives the subject of their bootlegged discussion. Han Seojun, a trudging beauty, a tragic beauty, skirt stained and hands freshly-washed. He zeros in on his muse — sorry, convenient human subject — falling without grace against her back, his arms encircling her from behind.

Jugyeong gulps.

“You okay?” Sujin asks, concerned, the kind that only fills her words when Seojun’s around. She turns, letting him breathe out against her neck, lightly ruffles his hair as she hugs him back.

Seojun exhales again. “Mmm.”

“Not sounding like it,” she prompts. Her voice is so soft, now. No brashness that had lain aflame when she argued earlier, nor the stunted amusement when she judged her surroundings. Does one always change so, Jugyeong wonders, when one loves?

“Just give me a minute,” Seojun says, hugging Sujin tighter. The little semi circle of theirs breaks apart, leaving the two to themselves, and Jugyeong reluctantly takes her eyes off Sujin rubbing Seojun’s back.

When she walks, half a beat behind everyone else, she can somewhat hear Sujin’s home voice. She can hear Seojun-ah? and she can hear Hey, hey, Jun-ah. Let’s go somewhere quiet, hm? and she can hear them go somewhere quiet.

And when she skips back, citing her forgetfulness and her phone, which she knows she left behind in the studio, she catches the dregs of a conversation that must be second nature.

“What’s wrong?” from Sujin.

“It’s stupid, I just… I’m so overwhelmed.” from Seojun.

“Ah, Junjun, seriously, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Come here.” from some half-way point that’s worn and torn.

Jugyeong holds her bitter smile all the way back to the studio, and realises, only belatedly as she watches Seojun walk back in, that she hadn’t considered him in this equation at all.

She had just been looking at Sujin.

#true beauty #tvn true beauty #true beauty fanfic #han seojun #kang sujin #seojun x sujin #junjin #whovie writes

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