#anyways i wanna deck my aunt in the face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypunkpansexualtwin · 3 years

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Here we come with day two of pegoryu week, and it's gonna be the last one I post on time. I'll still be trying, don't get me wrong, I'm just not the kind of person who can write a fic I'm happy with in one day.

Yet.

As always, bulk of the fic is under a cut, link is in the reblogs, and I will daydream of baking you cookies if you share it.

“I did warn you.”

“Not even an arcade, dude?”

“Not unless you wanna get on a train for forty minutes.”

“Ugh. Laaaaame.”

After nearly a month of planning, Ryuji was visiting his boyfriend for Golden Week. One whole month of bargaining with all of their parents, putting aside every last yen they could spare, studying their asses off to earn the trip, and, of course, long phone conversations that were probably about eighty percent “I miss you”s and “I love you”s and “I can’t wait to see you”s. With Akira’s help via video call study sessions, Ryuji even managed to get into the top thirty percent of the class in their latest exams; a new record for him that effectively guaranteed the visit. But they’d been so busy celebrating and planning getting him out to the country that they may have completely forgotten to figure out what they were actually going to do when he got there. So now they were on the Kurusus’ living room couch, Akira cross-legged on one end and Ryuji stretched out across the rest with his head on his boyfriend’s lap, trying to scrape together a date idea.

“I’ll say it again. I warned you. Several times,” Akira repeated while he ran a hand through Ryuji’s hair. “There’s nothing to see here.” Ryuji caught Akira’s free hand, tangled their fingers together, and kissed the back of his hand.

“Yeah there is. You’re here, so I say it’s worth it.” Ryuji grinned as his boyfriend turned pink at the tips of his ears and wrinkled his nose.

“Sap,” Akira grumbled like there wasn’t a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Like they both didn’t know full well how much he liked hearing how happy Ryuji was that they were together, in every sense of the word.

“You love me,” Ryuji said, his grin widening just a little further. Akira’s expression melted into something almost embarrassingly soft as he went back to playing with his boyfriend’s hair. He curled and combed his fingers gently through the short strands, and huffed out a quiet laugh as Ryuji went boneless when he grazed his nails over his scalp.

“Yeah. I really do,” Akira sighed happily and got another kiss pressed to his knuckles. “You’re kind of my hero, you know.” It was something he’d tried to make a habit of telling his boyfriend, even before they were dating. Ryuji still sputtered and objected like it was his first time hearing it.

“You-- I-- that ain’t…” He sat up and shoved a pillow into Akira’s face with a groan. “Now who’s the sap?”

Akira draped himself across Ryuji’s shoulders and planted a kiss on the side of his neck, then smiled against his skin at the shiver that got. “You just have that effect on me, sunshine.” Ryuji grunted in response. “You like it.” Another grunt. Akira blew a puff of air at the back of Ryuji’s ear and laughed when he got swatted away. “Don’t pout. You were right, a date sounds nice. But you gotta help me figure it out.”

His boyfriend sprawled back out on the couch after pouting for a few more seconds, then looked up at him with those big brown eyes he’d been a sucker for since day one.

“Aight, what kind of food you got around here?” Akira could have been exasperated at his boyfriend’s predictability, but a dinner date was more feasible than a movie date, and a lot more pleasant than a gym date. He may have loved Ryuji Sakamoto with all his heart, but he didn’t plan on running again on the regular unless it was for his damn life.

“There’s only like ten places total around here. We’ve already visited three, two of them won’t serve me because the owners don’t like me anymore--”

Ryuji’s head jerked up at that, knocking Akira’s hand free. It was ridiculous how cute the guy was when he was offended. “What?! Why the hell not?”

Akira shrugged and went back to petting Ryuji’s hair in an attempt to soothe him. “Didn’t exactly bother to ask, but probably my record. Cleared of charges or not, my reputation mutated while I was gone and I haven’t really been able to fix it.” Not that he’d tried very hard when he didn’t plan on staying for even a second longer than necessary.

The frown that wrinkled Ryuji’s features was almost comical, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at while he was already agitated. Especially when it was on Akira’s behalf. “Ugh, this town sucks, can’t wait to get you out of here. Wait, only probably your record? Why else would they dislike you?”

Akira huffed out another laugh, wry and joyless this time. “My uncle’s a pretty conservative guy, I heard he didn’t react well when he found out I was dating some guy from the city.” Quite literally heard it; he’d been getting ready to visit his cousin and could hear the old man shouting inside the house from the sidewalk. He’d opted to text Yuuta to meet up somewhere well away from their house instead when that happened. And, naturally, the news had mysteriously spread to the rest of town by the end of that week.

Ryuji sat bolt upright and twisted back around to face Akira with a scowl. “Your own effin’ family won’t serve you? What the hell?!” His expression was thunderous, made worse by the doomcloud over his head when he asked. Ryuji almost never got pulled into fights these days and was very proud of that fact--they both were--but Akira was certain that he was ready to deck the old man on sight on his behalf. He’d never encourage it, but the thought still made something in his chest swell a little.

“Just my uncle when I try to sit in. If it’s my aunt or my cousin taking delivery calls, they’ll still take the order. Plus a discount and extra desserts, if Yuuta’s the one who answers.” Akira shrugged, then tugged at Ryuji’s shirt to coax him into laying back down in his lap. He did, albeit begrudgingly, and Akira went back to running his hands soothingly through that remarkably soft shock of bright blond hair. “Anyways, the other five restaurants in town are fast food that you could get back home. So…” He trailed off and watched Ryuji’s scowl soften into an annoyed frown.

“Yeah, pass.” Ryuji closed his eyes, either to think or soak up Akira’s touch as he played with his hair, then cracked one eye open after a moment. “How ‘bout a picnic? You’re a pretty good cook and I bet we could find us a nice spot to just chill.”

That... was a pretty solid idea. Actually, that sounded perfect, and Akira knew exactly the spot for them to set up. He opened his mouth to agree, but was cut off by a low rumble of thunder outside. “...Maybe later this week? The weather should clear up before you have to go,” he said instead. Ryuji pouted up at the ceiling, or more likely up at the sky beyond it for ruining his brilliant plan. Then it was Akira’s turn to pout when Ryuji abruptly sat back up out of reach, but not for long.

The next thing he knew, he was being crowded up against the arm of the couch by one blond bombshell of an ex-track star. Ryuji was suddenly determined to pour himself into his boyfriend’s lap, all mischief and heat as he crawled across the couch towards Akira. He couldn’t think clearly while facing down that wicked grin curving across Ryuji’s face like Haru’s favorite battleaxe cleaving through the air. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d made out. It wouldn’t even be the first time Ryuji had taken the initiative and left Akira a flustered wreck when they did. But since it had been over a month since the last time he’d seen that look face to face, it was having more of an effect than usual, and Akira was left frantically trying to cling to his cool.

“I have an idea, babe.” Ryuji said lowly and Akira’s mouth went dry. Hands bracketed Akira’s hips on the couch as his boyfriend crept closer. “Y’wanna hear it?” Akira nodded and felt heat flare across his skin when he realized Ryuji was keeping that hooded, heated gaze fixed firmly on his lips. “Since your folks ain’t supposed to be back before tomorrow afternoon,” Ryuji’s tone was as light as his body was heavy as he straddled Akira and looped strong arms around his neck, “I was thinkin’ maybe… we could…” Akira was desperately trying to focus on the words being whispered into his ear over his boyfriend kissing his way up his neck and leaving his skin prickling in the wake of every touch.

“Y-yeah?” He couldn’t help the nervous flutter in his stomach. If Ryuji was implying what he thought he was implying... They hadn’t done… that... yet. Even with the house to themselves all day, they hadn’t actually talked about it, in part because Akira hadn’t even thought about it seriously yet. That nervous flutter hadn’t subsided and was starting to feel a little more like an anxious lurch.

Ryuji continued, oblivious to his boyfriend’s nerves with his face tucked against his neck. “We could maybe…” Akira’s hands flexed involuntarily around Ryuji’s hips. He didn’t dislike the idea, just-- His unsteady train of thought was thrown off again when soft lips brushed over his ear. “...watch One Piece together?” After a beat where Akira was left blinking stupidly for several seconds, Ryuji sat back on his legs with a grin that had gone from sultry to shit-eating on a dime. Oh. Okay, he could handle that. “I gotta get you caught up to me, plus I wanna see how much we can get through in one sitting.”

“...you’re truly a romantic for the ages, sunshine,” Akira responded flatly as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. He was teasing back now, because honestly that idea sounded just as good as the picnic, with a lot less effort to set up.

“I know,” he answered confidently, but his smile slipped a little. “Is that a no? I just thought maybe I could buy us dinner from your shitty uncle, and we can cuddle while we take advantage of that big TV with the fancy sound system.” Ryuji gestured hopefully to the flatscreen behind them that was nearly as big as Akira’s bed back at Leblanc.

“Sounds good. Netflix and chill, it is,” Akira declared. When he caught the way Ryuji’s smile and shoulders tightened slightly, he added, “y’know, in the most literal sense.” It wasn’t as though he was happy to see Ryuji nervous, but when his boyfriend relaxed at the reassurance, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that the two of them were on the same page as far as that was concerned.

---

Aki hadn’t been kidding when he said his cousin would hook them up. There was probably double what they’d ordered plus desserts in the bags the guy handed off.

“So, you must be the boyfriend, huh? He talks about you a lot. Y’know, for him.” Yuuta asked as he leaned on the doorway. Ryuji just grinned, because yes, that was him, he was The Boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. It’d been months and Ryuji still got all giddy about it like it was brand new. Yuuta interrupted his thoughts when he called out past Ryuji to where Akira was sitting and watching TV, “Man, talk about punching above your weight!” Ryuji blushed and opened his mouth to object before Akira could start bragging on how amazing Ryuji was.

Apparently Akira had other plans, because before he could, two sharp whistles rang out behind Ryuji and he reacted basically on instinct. It was the signal Akira had always used to mean duck or you’ll get hit in the Metaverse, and Ryuji’s knees buckled with almost no input from his brain. He had just enough time to worry if he’d spilled the food--thankfully he hadn’t--when one of the couch throw pillows whiffed past his head and nailed Yuuta in the face.

“ACK! The fuck, dude?! See if I give you free dessert again, jackass,” the guy yelled and hucked the pillow back--and missed, from the sound of Akira’s laughter. Ryuji straightened up with a grin as Yuuta turned to him. “How the hell did you two even do that?”

“We’re just cool like that, I guess.” Ryuji shrugged. No need to explain how many times he’d accidentally taken a Lucky Punch or whatever in the back of the head because he got signals mixed up. “Seriously though, thanks for hookin’ us up, dude.” He held up the food and then added a little more quietly, “and, uh, thanks for havin’ Aki’s back while he’s here. It’s easier to not worry if I know there’s at least someone here talkin’ to him besides that damn cat.” That got a snort of laughter out of the delivery guy.

“No problem? I’d say obviously, ‘cause he’s family, but… Well, I’m sure he told you. Our family kinda sucks sometimes.” He frowned, shook his head, then brightened back up. “Anyways, sweet of you to worry. He really did luck out when he found you, huh?” Yuuta said as he stepped back from the door.

Ryuji shook his head. “You got it backwards, man. I’m the lucky one.” He turned back to where his boyfriend was watching TV, now fully absorbed in the show even if he didn’t really look like it. Ryuji couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped him; he had his boyfriend again and he was going all in on one of Ryuji’s favorite things just because it was one of Ryuji’s favorite things, and it looked like he was actually enjoying it, too. When he turned back, Yuuta was halfway to his scooter, still loaded down with bags of food.

“You really believe that, huh?” He called back. “You keep that attitude, Sakamoto. Even when he’s bein’ a menace, alright? ‘Cause he’s a menace, but he’s my menace, and I’ll serve you up as dumplings if you hurt him!” The scooter rumbled to life and Yuuta added over the noise of the motor, “And you tell him the same thing. I like ya, so he’s gonna be the next lunch special if he’s an asshole to you!”

Ryuji waved in acknowledgment as he sped off, then closed the door and dropped the bag of takeout next to Akira. They paused the episode long enough to sort through the food; a double order of dumplings, pork miso for Akira, spicy vegetable ramen for Ryuji, ginger pork with rice that he was pretty sure they didn’t order at all, and half a goddamn cheesecake for them to split. It was an impressive spread that Akira was already calculating how much was going to be crammed into the fridge at the end of the night.

“Well. Anything we don’t finish tonight can go with us on the picnic?” He suggested as he started on his soup and turned the show back on. They hadn’t made it very far in just yet, and definitely had an uphill battle ahead of them.

Ryuji nodded, mouth already full of noodles. “Shoundsh good to me, dude.” Akira made a face at him like he always did when he talked around a mouth full of food, and Ryuji washed it down with some of the broth. “Family recipe?”

Akira hummed a confirmation around his own food, but paused to actually finish his bite. “Yup. Not as good as the place you took me, but I could just be biased.” Ryuji could hear the smirk in his voice that always cropped up when he was thinking about saying something sappy. Ryuji cut him off before he could, though. Butterflies wouldn’t leave much room in his stomach for ramen.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing. The Ogikubo thing, not the bias thing. Didn’t wanna offend, though.” Ryuji said and took another sizable bite. Even mediocre ramen was still pretty good in his opinion.

Akira chuckled. “Nah. Actually, the ramen there’s always been a little lackluster. I could’ve offered some advice to improve it once I got back, but now? Fuck that guy.”

Ryuji tried not to choke on his food with the laugh that threatened to escape. Scalding, spicy broth shooting out of your nose kinda sucked, especially if you got a noodle along with it. That was an experience he wasn’t keen on repeating. He swallowed down his bite and rasped, “could always pass it on to your cousin. He seems pretty cool when he ain’t threatenin’ to cook us.”

“Ah, you got the shovel talk, then--wait, us?” Akira nodded, but then froze partway and whipped his head around to Ryuji, who nodded in return after clearing his throat.

“Mhm. Said he likes me, ‘n if you break my heart you’re gonna be a lunch special,” Ryuji grinned.

“Asshole. He knows I can’t stand most of what’s in the rotation.” Akira grumbled and pouted into his soup. “What’d he threaten you with?”

“Dumplings.”

Akira’s eyebrows disappeared up into his bangs at that. “Damn, I think he likes you better than me. Uncle’s place is famous for its dumplings,” he explained as he picked the last bit of pork out of his bowl.

“I’m… honored? So is all your family this weird, or is it just you two?” Ryuji asked around another mouthful of noodles. The broth was definitely missing something, but the vegetables were pretty damn good; still pretty crisp but not undercooked. Good flavor on their own, prolly locally grown, too. “Also, how is a place in the middle of nowhere famous for anything?”

“Hey, we still have several other towns nearby, and folks will come here specifically for those dumplings. So you should be honored.” Akira huffed as he popped one of said dumplings in Ryuji’s mouth. Shit, it was pretty killer. Leagues better than his ramen. And of course his boyfriend looked as smug as Morgana when he caught the look on Ryuji’s face. “As for the weirdness? No idea. Around here it’s just me and Yuuta, but I don’t really know much about the ones that don’t live here. Might be because we’re in the middle of nowhere, might be because the ones who live here make a habit of cutting off any undesirables.” Aki shrugged and leaned up against Ryuji. “Maybe I’ll see if I can find any of them when I leave. I dunno.”

Ryuji leaned right back into him and planted a kiss against Aki’s temple, earning himself a pleased little hum from his boyfriend that he felt more than heard. “I’ll be right there with you if you do. I always got your back, babe.” Akira finished his soup and curled up against his side, tucked under one arm. It was nice, even if it meant now Ryuji had to figure out how to eat his ramen one-handed. Eh, he’d figure it out, it’s not like there was much left in the bowl anyway. “So, uh, earlier. You seemed a little tense when I was teasin’ you? And not like usual. I didn’t, like, push too much, did I?”

Akira had suddenly gone very still under his arm. Not the best sign.

“No. But, uh don’t take this the wrong way or anything, I was definitely glad you just wanted to watch One Piece with me. For a second there, I thought you wanted to…” He buried his face against Ryuji’s shoulder. God, his boyfriend was stupidly cute when he got all shy. “...y-y’know. Anyways, I was relieved when you seemed just as nervous about it? Not to be an asshole, but I’m kinda glad it isn’t just me who isn’t ready.”

“Right.” Well, that was that question out of the way, but now he’d paved the way for a new one that’d been rattling around in his head for a while now. God, best case scenario, Akira was probably gonna laugh in his face. Him? Ryuji Sakamoto, of all people, not interested in that? “What if…” He hesitated and tried again. “Well, how long would you be okay with that?”

“What do you mean?” Akira tipped his head up to look Ryuji in the eye. That really didn’t help things, ‘cause even on a good day Ryuji tended to feel small when Akira looked at him like that.

“Like…” Ryuji took a deep breath and steeled himself. “WhatifI’mneverready?” His stomach clenched. There it was, he’d finally said it. Years of wondering if his friends were just exaggerating what they wanted to do with the girls in their class; months of internet research and arguing with himself even when it was the only answer that made sense and trying to backtrack or minimize it with ‘well maybe I’m only kinda like that, maybe I’m that demi thing, maybe I’ll find someone’ to try and soften the blow; a whole year of slowly coming to the realization that that just wasn’t something on the table for him, no matter how attractive Ann was or how close him and Akira got, he just wasn’t wired for wanting that kind of thing, even if he wanted the rest of the sappy, romantic couple shit for as long as he could get it, ideally the rest of his life. All of that had built up to one rushed confession that could make this trip out to the country really effin’ miserable when he still had four more days of crashing at his boyfriend’s place.

“Didn’t... quite catch that?” Akira said after a moment of trying to process what Ryuji had just blurted out. Goddammit. Of course he didn’t.

Ryuji took a deep breath and tried again. “What if… I’m never ready for that? Would that be a dealbreaker?” His heart was hammering as he forced the words out a little more slowly this time. And Akira already looked annoyed. Shit. Shit. He couldn’t look him in the eye and instead stared down at his feet, trying desperately to swallow the queasy feeling in his stomach that threatened to bounce his lunch back up onto the floor in front of him. Ryuji opened his mouth to backpedal, to assure him that if he really wanted to then Ryuji would try for him even if the idea was kind of completely terrifying--

“Of course not!” The sharpness of his tone was what registered first and Ryuji was already braced for a breakup when the words actually hit him. It wasn’t a dealbreaker. It was okay. They were okay. They were... actually okay?

“Wh-- forreal?” Ryuji’s voice cracked embarrassingly and Akira shifted against him, one hand coming up to his chin to make him look at him.

“I already told you, you’re my hero. You…” Akira opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was looking for the right words and couldn’t find them. One hand cupped Ryuji’s jaw and ran a calloused thumb across his cheek, and Ryuji couldn’t help but press into the touch. “You’re everything to me. I could write books on all the things that make you amazing; your compassion, your kindness, your loyalty, your smile, all of it. So what if we never…” Akira blushed a little, but he seemed determined to power through the embarrassment. “So what if we never have sex? What do I care? I love you, Ryuji Sakamoto, I’m not giving up my sunshine, the best thing that ever happened to me, for anything.”

Ryuji swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat and buried his face against Akira’s neck. Even away from Leblanc, he still smelled like coffee and curry, still smelled like home. Akira had called it home too, and had told him once that he made Boss’ recipes whenever he was homesick for the cafe, or his team, or… Or for Ryuji. Ryuji wanted to believe him so badly. “It’s easy to say that when you still ain’t ready for it, but--”

“I won’t change my mind,” he insisted so vehemently that no part of Ryuji could even think of an argument. Even the part of him that had been certain for months that even admitting he was asexual to himself would ruin everything. “It’s not like I can’t take care of things myself. And that just means more time for everything else.” Akira paused and pressed a kiss to Ryuji’s forehead. “More time to cook your favorite foods,” kiss, “more time to cuddle,” kiss, “more time to watch our favorite shows, all of it.” Akira dropped one last kiss on his temple and went back to running his fingers through Ryuji’s hair. Then he added, almost too quietly to hear, “for the rest of our lives if you’ll let me.” Let him? He’d fuckin’ beg him if he had to.

“Babe, you’re gonna make me cry,” Ryuji said thickly, as if they couldn’t both feel the wet spots forming on Akira’s shirt from where tears were already streaming down his face. Part of him was still scared he wasn’t going to be enough, and it probably always would be for one reason or another. But for now it was easy to relax into his boyfriend’s embrace and trust that he planned on sticking around a little longer.

Akira kept playing with Ryuji's hair the way he knew he loved and wrapped his other arm tightly around him. He pressed a few more kisses to the top of Ryuji’s head and then asked, “do you need me to stop?” Ryuji shook his head and got another kiss. “Alright. Take all the time you need, sunshine.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“We’re gonna need to restart the episode after, though.”

#persona 5 #pegoryu #pegoryu week 2021 #my writing #had the idea for ace ryuji halfway through this prompt and couldn't resist giving favorite characters the tenderness I have yet to find #so if you clown here I will physically fight you

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Things That Were (Branjie) - pureCAMP

A/N - … Hi.

I won’t get into it, I don’t think I need to. But here’s a return no one expected, at least.

I wrote this based on some Feelings I have and also Jinkx’s song The Auld Lang Syne Song from… Christmas Queens 3? It has this beautiful sad, wistful, nostalgic kind of feel and it made me nostalgic for love and that strange time between Christmas and New Years. Largely sad, mostly bittersweet. Dedicated to my love Ortega, and in part for the nostalgia fic challenge.

I appreciate any and all support I’ve been given over these past months.

You have a new memory from (1) years ago!

Brooke swipes across absent-mindedly. She doesn’t think much about it, they pop up all the time in the holiday season. There’s a little loading screen, decorated with animated tinsel, that flashes in her face before every ounce of breath is knocked out of her body.

This is what dying feels like. Brooke wonders if there’s a loading screen before entrance into the afterlife. She supposes it would allow the dead some time to adjust, at least.

It’s a perfect, filtered picture. The Christmas tree looks beautiful, even as the pine dies, all decked in shades of red and gold, glittering twists and lights that twinkle gently enough to lull you to sleep. It stands tall in the background of the photo, illuminating everything with a cosy glow. At the forefront of the image, Brooke is that kind of happy, sleepy, warm drunk. Full of Baileys, probably, and little mini mince pies and leftover chocolate from boxes opened and half-finished. There’s a glass of red wine behind her, slightly visible on the table. She’s cradling Henry to her chest, kissing the top of his head.

Vanessa is next to her. The remnants of plum lipstick still on her lips, grinning, Apollo in her arms. She’s beautiful. She looks and feels like how Christmas is supposed to - welcoming, kind, gentle, sweet. And Brooke knows that she’s drunk too, and right after this she burst into laughter and her foghorn voice shattered the cosiness and it was so right and so them. And she knows how her stomach had twisted horribly after they took it.

It’s perfect. She won’t share this one. It will stay in her archives. It’s really been a year, huh.

The cats look at her accusingly, as if they know. They probably do know. They know everything about Brooke. Every flaw, every fault. If they could speak, she knows they’d ask for Vanessa instead of her. Well, tough. Vanessa’s gone, Brooke thinks, almost aggressively as if she’s trying to telepathically tell them so. Vanessa’s been gone for a year.

Or has she? Vanessa isn’t the one who left. Vanessa isn’t the one who walked out without warning, who pretended the bliss was as blissful as it looked and then ran from it all. No, no, that was Brooke.

She shuts off her phone, clicks the button to make the picture fade to black. The switch from warm and bright to black is jarring. It’s probably how Vanessa felt, waking up to an empty bed.

“Brookieeeeee,” Vanessa sings. She’s grinning, cheesing so hard that her eyes have disappeared, nothing but the flicker of a fake eyelash visible from them. “Brooklyn Briiiiiidge…”

Brooke turns, laughing, and waves away the whistles and teasing mumbles from their friends. “Vanjie?”

She pushes her lips together and makes kissy noises, wordlessly begging. Brooke gently holds her chin, lifts her head, kisses. She tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg and chocolate, a festive concoction of things that Brooke usually hates but loves on her. Vanessa looks amazing in gold and she’s an Oscar from head to toe, sparkling, beautiful.

Akeria makes pointed eye contact with Brooke, then mimes gagging herself with two fingers.

Vanessa rolls her eyes, the fondness on her face so evident that it could light up the entire bar. “I love you.”

And Brooke kisses her. The kiss says what it needs to.

Christmas a whole year ago. Brooke made a series of decisions. Stupid ones, maybe. Definitely. She doesn’t know who she’s kidding.

Funny how she finds it so hard to kid herself. Apparently, she had no issue kidding Vanessa.

A little while after Silky comments that Brooke really shouldn’t still be living in the shithole apartment she rented at 20, she realises that as rude and bluntly honest it had seemed at the time, she’s right. She resolves not to mention this to Silky, in case her ego inflates too far and she flies away like Aunt Marge (she thinks this with love), and starts looking online. And it’s impossible.

So out comes the phone, because there’s only one person to go to for this. For anything. Because she’s always there and she’s always willing and she only ever wants some quality time as payment.

B: Vanjie [8.22pm]

B: Vanjerella….. [8.22pm]

B: Vanessaaaaaa [8.23pm]

V: brooke lynn hytes [8.24pm]

B: Not the full name… am I in trouble? [8.24pm]

V: do u wanna be? ;) [8.24pm]

B: Hmm… I’ll think about it… [8.24pm]

B: Anyway I need your heeeeeelp [8.24pm]

V: i gotchu boo [8.25pm]

V: what u need baby [8.25pm]

B: Cutie [8.25pm]

B: I’m going apartment hunting, help me look? Idk what to even look for [8.25pm]

V: exciting!!!!!! [8.26pm]

V: babyyyyy this is so exciting for u omg!!! I love moving [8.26pm]

V: i hope i can help!! im usually terrible at this but i think we’ll have fun!! [8.26pm]

V: although i gotta wonder what made u ask me instead of somebody smart like nina [8.27pm]

B: Ah shit, great point nvm I’ll ask her [8.28pm]

B: Jk. Asked u because ur always here visiting, may as well find something u like as well <3 [8.28pm]

V: u bout to make a bitch cry [8.29pm]

Vanessa was over in maybe ten minutes tops, Brooke remembers. It was like she could read Brooke’s mind, and she’d brought coffee for them both to keep them going and even a little bag of kitty treats from the place she’d stopped at (“a guy was sellin’ them outside and I felt a little sorry for him in the cold so I bought ‘em. They’re good, the ones you usually get!”). They were up for hours scrolling, and then searching in person just so that she could act as a second opinion.

Brooke stands up from the couch and walks slowly, heavily, towards the window. Her Christmas tree is silver this year, silver and purple, and as pretty and icy as it had seemed when she decorated it, it feels cold and desolate now. It reflects on the glass and for a moment it’s hard to focus on the world outside when the world inside is so disturbed, but she manages. Dark as it is, the lights of the city are never gone, and she has a beautiful view of a metropolitan paradise laid out beneath her.

Vanessa loved the view. She picked it, in a way. Brooke was unsure about the viewing, and Vanessa wheedled, tugging her arm and telling her she’d love it.

She did love the view. But it was Vanessa’s view, that she saw first, that she loved first. Now it just makes Brooke feel sick. Sick at herself. Like it’s not hers to look at, and she shouldn’t.

She looks away.

A change of scenery helps to calm the mind, Brooke thinks. Nina told her that once, she vaguely recalls, as she sobbed helplessly into the arms of the only one who would listen. The only one who didn’t think of her as a raging evil bitch, and more of a hopeless coward instead. It’s not much better, but it’s a small comfort given how much she hates herself for it. She’s more inclined to go with what the rest of them all thought after it happened.

It’s late, anyway. Maybe it really is time to read a book and push down the thoughts and try to sleep away the regret.

“Oh god, oh god. Vane- fuck,” She breathes.

Waves of pleasure shoot through her, beginning deep in her belly and sending shockwaves all up Brooke’s back. Her hands grasp at the sheets around her head, desperate, clinging, her mind and body totally incognizant of each other. Her body is on fire, and her mind isn’t even functioning correctly.

Vanessa’s mouth is hot and fast and her tongue is skilled, and every time she grazes over her clit with the swift, feather-light touches Brooke thinks she’s going to pass out. Her fists grab tighter and her toes curl and a gasp floats from her lips, accidental, unstoppable. She manages to tear one hand away and threads it into Vanessa’s dark hair, urging her to keep going.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck…” She manages.

The goddess between her legs doesn’t stop, not until long after the inaudible mumblings have stopped falling from Brooke’s lips and her breaths are finally starting to slow, and she wonders how Heaven is meant to be above them when she feels herself sinking into it right now. Brooke thinks absent that maybe Heaven is here and everything else is Hell because nothing feels like being with Vanessa feels, and when they’re naked and intertwined and breathless and warm maybe they’re closer to God than they’ll ever be.

She catches herself before three words make their way out.

“God, this fucking mattress…” Is what she ends up producing. It’s digging into her back, lumpy and old. She’s only just noticed, in truth.

Vanessa’s head lifts, her makeup smudged in a way that feels beyond sinful to look at. She licks her lips coyly, sucks off her finger, and offers a lazy, heady sort of smile.

“The mattress? That’s all you got, boo?”

She’s laughing, happy, delirious. Brooke laughs too. “I don’t have to say anything about you. Isn’t the state of me enough?”

It is. On her back, chest peppered with bruises not yet formed, chest rising and falling beyond her control, legs still twitching slightly. Brooke’s completely spent, blissed out, exhausted. Vanessa’s still worn out from hers and yet her tongue is musical and the melodies were handcrafted by all the muses of the ancient world.

Still smiling, Vanessa shifts so she’s hovering on top of Brooke and then leans down to kiss her, their bodies colliding, Brooke tasting herself on the lips of her lover. It’s nights like these that make her feel like the world is a good place to be. That everything is fixable, everything is brilliant.

“We should get you a new mattress, baby,” Vanessa tells her when they break apart. “And I’ll probably never leave.”

Brooke forces a laugh, but the idea isn’t laughable. Vanessa and Forever go hand in hand, somehow.

And they do go shopping for a mattress for Brooke’s place. They wander through stores and discuss mattress firmness and size and height and flop down until they feel as though they’re ready to drop, and then Vanessa lands on one and yells “BROOKIE!” so loud that her voice - that goddamn voice - almost shatters the glass. She’s laying down with a beam on her face like nothing Brooke’s ever seen, pure sunshine, and she clearly has the best taste in mattresses because when she buys it, Brooke’s never slept so good in her life.

The bed is cold. Brooke deserves a cold bed. She left Vanessa in one, so it’s the least she can deal with it.

They weren’t always at Brooke’s - sometimes it was Vanessa’s too, for the sake of variety. Looking back on those memories makes Brooke feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Which she is, of course, and she knows it. But even here, the mini Christmas tree is cold and isolated, and Vanessa gave it to her as an early gift last Christmas, and Vanessa chose the mattress, and Vanessa picked the view. Brooke stares at everything that Vanessa has touched in her life and wonders why in the world she let herself ruin something so good. It’s selfish and stupid and self-sabotaging and that angel of a woman deserves so much more.

She thinks about sharing the picture. She could caption it with that song, ‘Now I’m in the house you chose and the bed you bought to face your perfect view’, and that could be her apology. Because she knows all too well she’s too much of a blind coward to say it properly. And Vanessa won’t see it even if she does share, because they’re not friends anymore. Someone will get it to her - probably Silky - but that’s not worth it.

Brooke opens her phone again, and swipes away from the picture before she does something stupid. Then she opens her texts.

B: Are you busy? [10.11pm]

B: Oh shit sorry, just saw Yvie’s insta, u guys are out tonight. Ignore this x [10.13pm]

N: No no! They’re out, I’m home because I was working all day and I was too tired :( [10.19pm]

N: What do you need hun? <3 [10.20pm]

B: If ur tired it’s okay, I’ll talk to u another time x [10.20pm]

N: Shut up. I’m here [10.21pm]

N: I think I know what’s going on. Right time of year [10.21pm]

B: I’m just an idiot, idk [10.22pm]

N: Nope. Stay where you are, I’m coming over. [10.22pm]

N: Did she text you? [10.24pm]

B: She’s not that stupid lmao why would she [10.24pm]

Nina is the only one who bothered to ask what the hell was going on when it happened. It’s not like Brooke can blame the others, and she doesn’t either. If someone did that to her best friends, she would be the same. And she is the same - she hates herself passionately for it. But Nina has this untraceable kindness to her, this unfathomable tenderness that seems to have no beginnings, no ends, no limits. It flows so freely from her, like a gift.

She has no idea how much time passes by crying and looking blankly at her phone, or even any idea when she started crying, but the doorbell rings and Brooke answers it already in tears and Nina sweeps her into a hug like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it is. To love your friends is easy and natural, like taking a breath in clean air.

To love someone special is like inhaling in water, drowning, getting lost. And you have to be content with the helplessness in order to survive it, or at least strong enough to swim and keep it going. You can’t just sink. Brooke couldn’t handle drowning.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” She weeps into Nina’s arms, once her choking sobs settle into streaming tears. It’s not better, just different. “I wanted to be with her forever and that was so fucking scary.”

Nina rubs her back. “Breathe, breathe. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Is- is she okay?”

Stupid question. Brooke isn’t sure she even wants to know.

The hug finishes; they’re on the couch again. Nina pulls out her phone, frowning, and pauses like she’s thinking. She looks guilty, which is unusual.

“I would never normally show a friend’s text, y’know? It’s private, I don’t do all that betraying trust stuff. But I know she’ll delete these tomorrow morning and I think you should see them before she does.”

V: so its been a ear then hasnr it [10.56pm]

V: a year of fwithout brook [10.56pm]

V: honestly fuck her yknw what i man [10.56pm]

V: she fuckin broke mt heart man why did she do that [10.56pm]

V: i miss her an the stupid vats so muhc [10.57pm]

V: tha sonf auld lang syne plaed earlier in the bar bef4 eht club [10.57pm]

V: very apropaotye hahahahksjkdh [10.57pm]

V: may rhe acwanriance be forgot forever and fuckung ever [10.57pm]

V: is okay i can lobe w the bitternness [10.57pm]

V: i just kisd girls unt il it dont hurt [10.57pm]

Brooke sobs. Again, loud, shaking, broken. Because Vanessa is hurting so much even a year after it happened and everything feels so raw and it’s entirely her own fault for crushing the dream they were building.

“I miss her so fucking much, I don’t know why- I don’t know why I walked out,” She babbles, helpless and hopeless and hurt. “I’m fucking lying, Nina, I know why, I know why I did it. Why did I fucking-”

She knows all too well. Because Vanessa helped her pick an apartment and Vanessa picked her bed and Vanessa loved her cats. Because Brooke could imagine them getting married and growing old and it had barely been four months by the time Christmas and New Years were rolling around and everything seemed so serious and so intense, and that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun but it was scary in the same breath because speed was terrifying.

Brooke is bitter, but only at herself.

New Years Day. January 1st, a brand new year, a bright new start. The frost glistens freshly on the undisturbed morning, and all across the city, singles and couples sleep through the dawn, hungover or still passed out drunk, party hats akimbo, party blowers still suspended in smudged lipsticky mouths.

It’s early, enough that the daylight is blinding but pale and faded. Vanessa’s bedroom has the huge window that she never covers, and she sleeps through it like the dead. Brooke wakes up and looks around.

She looks at everything but Vanessa, but eventually her gentle snuffling is too much to ignore and she looks down at her beautiful sleeping form. She’s a disaster, hair everywhere and glitter still all over her face, and she’s the most breathtaking woman in the entire wide world. Something heavy and all encompassing sweeps into Brooke’s chest, and she can identify it by name. It’s only four letters, but it strikes a fear in her like an old god from a lost world. She needs to vomit. She needs to run. She needs an escape.

Before she even knows who she is again, any of the things that ended up staying half their time at Vanessa’s are stuffed into a couple of carrier bags and she’s in her dress from the party and out of the door into the cold winter air, panicked, unable to breathe.

It’s a heart attack, she thinks. Or a panic attack. It’s an attack that feels like it’s going to kill her, and she runs away, and she runs all the way home and barricades the door shut, dropping her belongings on the floor, numb and confused and cold. It’s the start of the new year and she begins it alone, hyperventilating.

Within a couple of days the worried texts subside and the angry vengeful ones start flooding in, and just like that Brooke’s lost the best thing that ever happened to her and all of her friends along with it. Because she got up on new year’s day and abandoned Vanessa fast asleep and that was the end.

It’s ugly and chilling, how much she cries into Nina’s gentleness. The only thing that stops her is, ironically, the thing that makes her feel worse, the characteristic ‘ping!’ of Nina’s phone, undoubtedly more drunk texts.

V: i hoper he fucjibg bubble bursts this tie of year [11.23pm]

V: every jhanduary first for the rest of hersitnkin life [11.23pm]

“I deserve it,” Brooke whispers hoarsely, “But she doesn’t. She never did.”

“Neither of you do,” Nina tells her sadly. “They don’t all hate you, they hate what you did the way friends always do when breakups happen. You both deserve to be happy. And both of you have been dreading New Year’s for this exact reason.”

It hurts to hear, and Brooke wishes she doesn’t have to listen, but her friend is so goddamn wise it feels stupid not to.

“Two days until it’s officially New Year.” Nina kisses her hand. “Can you keep living like this, Brooke?”

It’s not like she even has to say it for Brooke to understand. “She hates me.”

Nina shakes her head. “No she doesn’t. She loves you.”

“That’s worse.”

“You love her.”

“I know.”

“You got scared.”

“I still am.”

“Face your fears.” Nina holds her at arm’s length, forcing her to look right into her face. “This hurts more than what blundering through it would, surely? Fire doesn’t always mean you get burned, sweetie. Sometimes it just warms you.”

She makes no fucking sense.

“I can’t play with Vanessa like that again.” Brooke swears. “I can’t.

The transitional period between Christmas and New Year doesn’t feel like real time. It’s just liminal space, a waiting room of chronology, a suspension in space. If she’s honest, trying now causes no harm, because it’s like it didn’t even happen. Maybe she should, maybe she will.

Eventually Nina leaves, pressing a kiss to her forehead and promising that somehow everything is going to be okay. She’s like a fairy godmother, Brooke thinks to herself. Always knowing, always positive, and total magic to behold.

She’s awake all night long just staring at the time on the top of her phone, lying in bed sideways and wondering if she’ll do it. It has to be right. It can’t be when she’ll still be awake and drunk and angry. But it can’t be on the anniversary of her biggest fuck up, because that just feels like some kind of sick joke and that’s not what she wants.

The entire night passes. At six am, her finger hovers over the send button for a full three minutes. She counts the seconds.

B: I fucked up. If u’ll have me, I’ll never mess u around again. I didn’t know I could love someone so much and then u came along and everything sped up and I wasn’t fast enough. I shouldn’t have thrown away what we had when it was as close to perfect as anything can get. This message is all me me me I I I but if ur okay with it, I think new year should begin right this time. I’ll hold u and I won’t let go, and u don’t even have to hold me as long as ur here. Everything is up to u. I’ll learn to live with what I did if u say no. Because I totally get why u should hate me. I hate me too, kinda. U did nothing wrong. U were and will always be perfect. [6.03am]

B: Full disclosure is I was scared of how much and how quick I loved u. But it didn’t go away even when I hurt u. I was stupid to do that, and I don’t wanna do another year in the shadow of that massive mistake. [6.05am]

B: I won’t say it here, because thats cheap for u. But I’ll say it when I see u again. I promise, and I want to [6.13am]

She falls asleep with her phone in her hand after being awake all night long.

She wakes up four hours later.

V: ur dumb [9.51am]

V: theres a party at yvies for new years yknow [9.52am]

V: im not saying ill kiss u at midnight but [9.52am]

V: fuck around and find out [9.52am]

(tags: purecamp, branjie, brooke lynn hytes, vanessa vanjie mateo, lesbian au, things that were, fic challenge, nostalgia challenge, nina west)

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #things that were #fic challenge #nostalgia challenge #nina west #s11 #(you will always have a place here! -v)

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panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

lets talk business {Finn Shelby x Reader}

Words: 9.4k

Summary: Polly Gray comes to you looking for a good business deal. It’s only luck that makes her bring Finn Shelby along with her.

Genre: fluff ??????????????

Warning: swearing

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions!

---

“Polly fucking Gray.”

The woman smiles. Sharp, all cheekbones. She somehow manages to keep her lips pursed, illuminating the mischievous glint in her eyes that much more.

Part of you still cannot believe she is sitting in front of you; the woman herself, one of the leading cronies of the Peaky Blinders, one of the most feared people in all of England. She’s certainly got an air to her, one you can’t dismiss as you sit on the other side of the table, hands folded on the wood, heart thumping no matter how calm you may look on the outside.

You’ve trained yourself to deal with people like her - people who think they can come into your office and twist your arm whatever way they want. Men, women, gangster wanna-be’s - you’ve dealt with all of them, and you have no intentions of letting Polly Gray be any exception to the harsh realities of your business.

She leans back in her seat, tapping her fingers against the edge of the desk; she has been in here for two minutes already and has not said a single word.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask.

Polly tilts her head to the side, examining you in the way only a Shelby really can. “I’m here to talk business, Y/N. Don’t waste my time.”

“I’m not the one who’s been sat in silence since I walked in.”

“I shouldn’t have to explain myself.”

You raise a brow. “No? Maybe that’s why you and your little motley crew have been dropping like flies recently - bad communication can have detrimental effects on a business.”

Polly pauses. It’s brief, barely noticeable unless you’re paying extra close attention. “Is that what you think the Peaky Blinders are? A business?”

“No more than I am, love.”

“If I were you, I’d get that out of my head as soon as possible.”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you threatening me already? We haven’t even got to the good stuff yet.”

Polly slaps her hand against the desk. Globes and glasses rattle, only the security of your expensive storage units keeping them from shattering. Polly’s nostrils flare, her eyes glaring into your own - but you do not look away.

You just smile, tapping the little pile of papers to your left. “I’ve got all the details you want right here, Miss Gray. Feel free to start being polite at any time. I’ve got all day for you, love.”

Polly growls, slowly sitting back. “How many guns can you provide us in a fortnight?”

“How many do you need?”

“As many as you can get.”

You hum thoughtfully, despite already knowing the answer. Keeping her on her toes is a goal, a way to make sure she is aware that you are in charge right now, that you will not be taking orders from her just because everyone else is so willing to trail in her wake.

Polly inhales deeply, clearly trying to calm herself down. “I haven’t got all day, Y/N.”

“Let’s put this into perspective,” you reply, resting your elbows on the desk. “My people collect shipments from all over the fucking world, Polly. We get deliveries of twenty to thirty assault weapons every single day - at most, I can get you over four hundred guns in two weeks; it won’t be subtle, and you’ll need to have a hiding place ready for them before the first shipment, but we can do it.”

Polly’s eyes glisten. “Over four hundred?”

“If the money’s right on your end.” Her smile fades. You shrug, tapping your fingertips together. “This is an expensive world we’re living in, Miss Gray, and you are dealing with some very expensive business. You gather the funds, we’ll gather the guns. That’s the only way this is going to work.”

Polly tilts her head to the side, lips still pursed like there is forever something sour playing on her tongue. “I don’t think you understand who you’re making business with right now.”

You smile. “No. I understand just fine - I just don’t give a fuck. You people don’t scare me. I’ve got wages to pay, love. This isn’t a game.”

It takes a minute - perhaps a minute too long, but Polly eventually smiles. It’s small, barely there unless you’re looking for it. With her head still tilted, brown curls resting on her shoulder, she nods and says, “Fair enough. We can get the first payment to you before the end of the night, but we expect them four hundred guns in fourteen days. Or else consequences will be dire.”

“Oh, I know, Miss Gray. I’ve heard all about you and the Shelby boys.”

You’re not lying - it would be impossible to live on this side of town and not know who the Shelby boys are, the things they do to people who don’t follow their plans meticulously. You have no intentions of falling into that category - but that doesn’t mean you’re going to let them walk all over you, either.

----

The docks are cold this time of day, but the police are nowhere to be found.

Early morning starts are not high on the laws agenda, apparently, which is why you find yourself half-awake, bundled in layers upon layers of clothes, standing beside the boats currently delivering the guns you requested - the guns for Polly Gray.

It’s not like you to be there when the deliveries come in - you deal with the issues behind the scenes, often staying locked up in the dark office, sifting through papers and complaints, getting rid of people who have a bit too much to say about the way your business is run.

But Polly Gray is more than just a normal client. She’s Polly fucking Gray, someone you need to please or else face a wrath unlike any other. So, you dragged yourself from your bed at four this morning, and now stand by the boats, watching the crates of weaponry get dragged from their decks.

Fingers graze your elbow. You tilt your head to the side, a silent request for the stranger to talk.

“Someone is here to see you,” an Irish accent says. You turn, first catching sight of Mr Luther Murdock, one of the few men in the world whom you trust with your life.

Standing behind him, however, is someone you most certainly did not expect to see this morning.

Finn Shelby is a tall man - a tall boy? - with the slicked back, half-shaved hair of the Shelby clan. He wears an expensive suit, consisting of only three layers, and you silently wonder how he isn’t shivering right now. But he isn’t, instead standing tall and bold amongst the dust and grime of an early morning business delivery.

You turn fully, folding your arms over your chest. “Finn Shelby. What a surprise. Has your aunt had my name in her mouth again?”

Finn shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t even look at you when he speaks, too busy examining everything going on around him - you realise he doesn’t get out much, not as often as his brothers, anyway. This side of things must be so new to him, so bizarre. You nearly laugh in his face - his brothers go out murdering people every single day, but the idea of someone importing guns into Birmingham is what intrigues him.

“Yes,” you continue when he doesn’t respond to your previous jab. “This is where all the magic happens. See that crate over there?” You point to a wooden box being hauled from a boat onto the platform. “That’s for you and your shit-stain family.”

Finn smiles. “Is it now.”

“The money was given to us quite promptly, I will admit. I thought for sure you would have just threatened us till we did what you wanted.”

“We don’t work like that.”

“No? So where have all the big bad tales come from then?”

Finn’s mouth twists. Still, his eyes do not meet your own, giving you plenty of time to smile to yourself. Finn is certainly one of the easier ones to mess with, if just because he’s lived in his brothers’ shadows for as long as he’s been able to walk. He doesn’t have the same confidence, the same quick-wit that the other Shelbys have.

It’s kind of sad, really.

You stare at him a moment longer, waiting for him to continue the conversation, perhaps offer up an explanation as to why he’s here in the first place. Most of the time, people make their orders and just leave you to get on with it - it’s very rare someone actually comes down to view the process.

Finally, Finn sighs, and for the first time since you acknowledged his presence, his eyes snap to your own. “This is an interesting little set-up you’ve got here.”

“It’s not so much interesting as it is cautious.”

“Is that why you’re here so early?”

You shrug. “Don’t get it twisted, Shelby. You won’t find me down here at this time every day - I just wanted to make sure my people were doing the job right for you and your people, yeah.”

Finn hums. “Nice of you. Considering you’re a twat.”

“Now who gave you that impression?”

Finn tilts his head, examining you for longer than strictly necessary. His gaze makes you uncomfortable, being dragged forth to the point where you have to look away and change the topic; maybe that’s where his skills lie. John, Arthur and Tommy carry the guns for intimidation, but all Finn needs is his expression.

You turn and start walking along the docks, giving Luther a thankful nod that reads go away. Finn follows close behind you, polished heels clicking against the rough wood.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’ve really come here today?”

“I overheard Polly talking about her inquiry.”

You raise a brow, glancing over your shoulder. Finn catches your eye, smiles sheepishly.

“You really made her angry.”

You shrug. “It’s business. It’s what we do. If your aunt can’t take that, then maybe she isn’t as tough she likes to make herself out to be.”

Finn pauses. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“It’s true what they say, Shelby - being tough doesn’t just come from violence. You might be able to shoot a gun and kill people without blinking, but if you can’t handle a little tough criticism, then how strong can you really be?”

Finn doesn’t respond. You think you might have hit a sore point for him.

Barrelling on, you say, “You overheard Dear Pol talking about me. Then what? Your interest was piqued?”

“I wanted to see what made you so special.”

You very nearly freeze on the spot. Instead, you catch yourself, glancing at him yet again. “She said I was special?”

“She said you were a lot of things,” Finn replies. “But we have our own people when we want weaponry - I want to know why she came to you this time. You, of all people. Basically the same age as me-”

“You’re older.”

Finn tilts his head. “I guess I just want to know how you fucked your life up so bad that you’ve ended up on this side of things so early on.”

Your mouth fills with cotton. You swallow thickly, turning back to the path in front - around you, people are bustling back and forth, bowing their heads, giving you tiny little “Hello’s” that are meant to sound pleasant but honestly just reek of fear. You are surrounded by grown men who want nothing more than to impress you, to place themselves in your good books because they know what will happen to them if they somehow find themselves upon the alternative.

You never would have thought such a reaction a bad thing, but now that Finn has spoken, it does seem a bit weird. You’re successful, rolling in money you honestly don’t deserve, but what does it all mean if you have people terrified of you?

Finn picks up his pace, strolling alongside you now. His shoulder clips with yours, and it takes everything in you not to turn around and shove him into the harbour.

“I’ve never met someone like me before,” he says.

“You haven’t yet. We’re nothing alike.”

“No?”

“I don’t fancy being compared to a Shelby.”

“Mm. See, I might be wrong, then. Us Shelby’s can admit when something’s true - clearly you can’t.”

You grit your teeth, balling your hands into fists. “Do you want these guns or not, Finn? Because if you carry on the way you are now, I’ll cancel everything. You can take your fucking money back.”

��“You think you have that kind of power?”

You whirl around so abruptly, Finn nearly crashes into you. “You think I don’t? Are you forgetting whose business this is? Are you forgetting who’s in charge?”

Finn steps back. He doesn’t look scared, but he doesn’t look unprovoked, either; slightly widened eyes, a swift swipe of his tongue across his lower lip that proves to you this is not the reaction he was expecting. People from all over the world will drop to their knees to see to every Shelby boys wish and desire - clearly this is what Finn wants from you, as well.

“If you came here just to spew your bullshit superiority complex, I don’t want to fucking hear it. Unlike you, I have work to do, shit to get done.” You turn, calling out to a nearby dock worker. “Oi! Mate, take this little prick back to wherever the fuck he came from.”

The dock worker scrambles forward, bending to your every wish.

Turning back to Finn, you give him a sarcastic smile. Again, he swipes his tongue along his lower lip.

“Have a safe journey home,” you say. “Maybe you can find a dark alley somewhere to go fuck yourself.”

----

“So I fucked that up pretty badly.”

Arthur takes a long drag of his cigarette, cold eyes set in a wrinkled face running the length of Finn Shelby as the two brothers sit across from each other in The Garrison.

Finn doesn’t want to be here. Finn wants to be back in bed, cuddled up under a warm blanket after the early morning he was subject to today. He argues the early morning was entirely against his will, but even he isn’t delusional enough to believe such a thing - the moment he heard you were doing business with his family, he knew he needed to see you.

And it has been a long time since you and Finn Shelby last spoke; taking from the conversation you two had this morning, he can only assume you don’t really remember your last meeting at all. The smiles, the laughter, the getting-to-know-each other. Today, you spoke to him like he was a complete stranger, and Finn doesn’t know if you’re just trying to protect yourself, or if you really do not remember him.

Arthur sighs in that heavy way Arthur always does. He has one hand perched on his knee, the other holding his sixth lit cigarette. “I expected nothing less from you, brother. Absolutely nothing less.”

“I don’t get it,” Finn grumbles. “I don’t even know where I slipped up.”

“Sometimes it’s best to just move on. If the devil’s not interested in you, then that’s how it is.”

Finn scowls; it’s become a habit of his to agree with everything his older brothers say, but this is something he can’t get on board with. You’ve changed, yes, but it’s not really in a bad way - you’ve become stronger, more in-tune with your surroundings. It’s a big difference from the timid business-oriented person you were before, sitting behind a mahogany desk, taking shit from anyone and everyone.

Part of Finn is happy you’ve grown a backbone. Another, more selfish part of him just wants you easy to bend again.

He sighs and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Fuck me, man.”

“Right,” Arthur replies, slapping the table. “How about this, Finny-boy. A whore for the night. I’ll pay for her, don’t you worry, but you clearly need something to get your mind off this Y/N person you’re on about.”

Finn flicks his eyes up. “Stop pretending you don’t know who they are.”

Arthur shrugs, slumping back in the booth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, blows the smoke directly into Finn’s face. “Polly’s been raving on about them for a good week and a half now. Sounds like a right handful.”

“Yeah, well, that’s a bit rich coming from a fucker like you.”

Arthur grins. “I never said it’s a bad thing. I just don’t know if a handful is the type you should be focusing on.”

Finn raises a brow. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Well.” Arthur trails his eyes along Finn’s form, and Finn already knows exactly what his brother is going to say. “You’re not exactly the sturdiest little bastard in Birmingham, are you? Y/N will be trailing you through the streets by the bollocks if this turns into anything.”

Despite himself, Finn’s cheeks heat up. He looks down, scratching a few lines into the table; Arthur is wrong, of course. Finn can hold himself just as well as any of them, and he’s not about to let some sketchy business-owner boss him around. Yes, he has fond memories of you, but at the end of the day, you’re a different person now. You’re Finn’s rival. He has to remember that.

He looks back up. Arthur is already staring at him, amused smile appearing beneath his bushy moustache. “Promise me you won’t tell Tommy anything about Y/N.”

Arthur scoffs. “Tommy already knows about Y/N, you stupid twat. Even without Pol ranting about them every two seconds, Thomas Shelby knows everything.”

“Y/N might be a bit different.”

“Oh, give it a rest, lad. None of this they’re special bullshit - Tommy knows all about them, and listen to me when I tell you this.” Arthur leans in, lowering his voice despite the privacy of the booth they’re seated in. “He’s got them and their little business high on his radar.”

---

Finn isn’t someone you would ever call a friend.

Especially not now.

Once upon a time, perhaps you could classify him as a fascination - but all the Shelby’s were a fascination when you lived in Birmingham - especially Small Heath. Their names were once plastered everywhere until Thomas Shelby started getting a little too big for hit boots. The mans wife died, and he went downhill from there. People stopped respecting them as much; people had less fear; the streets of Birmingham became less of a risk, because people saw that the Shelby clan could be brought down if the need arose.

Finn, however, was one of the only Shelby boys you ever had any direct contact with. Brief, barely memorable, but it happened, and you remember it better than you are willing to admit.

You sit in your office now, the only light coming from the lantern lit on the desk beside you. The door is closed, but you can still hear the bustle outside it, employees yelling at each other, people falling over one another in their attempts to get the heaps upon heaps of work finished in time.

You should be helping them. Usually, you would be out there, making sure your business stays on it’s toes, but seeing Finn today has done something to you that you can’t quite explain - rattled you, maybe. Thrown you off guard. His visit was certainly unexpected, but you’re usually so good at pulling yourself together when you need to.

You tug your knees into your chest, leaning your forehead against them. Through the door, someone cries out, another person telling them to suck it up. You close your eyes, try to catch your breath before you really do sink into the territory of absolutely insane.

You want to drift off to sleep. You want to close your eyes and not resurface until all of this drama has been cleared up, until the Shelby’s are out of your life for good. Only then will you be able to focus solely on the work in front of you.

A knock sounds at the door. You bite your lower lip, resisting the urge to yell at the guest to just fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, it’s too late for this, you don’t have the mental capacity-

“Come in!”

The door creaks open. Heels thump against the carpet. The smell of expensive perfume fills the room. You know exactly who has just entered.

Slowly lifting your head, you are greeted by Polly Gray. She’s wearing an expensive striped suit, and standing behind her is her young son, Mr Michael Gray, dressed in a simple grey suit with his hair slicked back. Compared to the last time you saw him, he’s certainly broadened out.

“I see you got your custody back.”

Polly’s nostrils flare. “It’s like you’re running some kind of zoo out there.” She plucks a cigarette from your desk and sits down, gesturing for her son to do the same. Without invitation, the two Gray’s get comfortable, Polly propping one knee up against the arm rest of her seat, lighting a cigarette at the same time. Michael’s beady little eyes are dancing around in search of alcohol.

You slump against your own seat, sighing. “I’m tired, Polly. Tonight is not the night to talk to me about business.”

“Ah, see, that’s not acceptable,” she replies, pointing her cigarette at you. “When you’re working with me, love, you have to be on call at all times.”

“And when you’re working with me, you need to have a bit of fucking trust.”

Her eyes snap up, narrowing. “Beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb, Pol. It’s really not a good look on you.”

Polly slowly leans forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sending Finn to come check on me this morning was unnecessary.” You pluck the cigarette from her fingers, taking a drag of your own. “My people know what they’re doing. Plus, Finn Shelby is hardly a decent fear tactic - I could snap that boy in two if I wanted.”

Michael and Polly fall silent, and for a second, you second-guess your sentence choice - did you just make yourself sound stupid? Either way, the pair share a confused glance before Michael leans his elbows on the mahogany and says, “Finn visited you this morning?”

You freeze. “At around five am, yeah.”

Polly snickers, a noise that would infuriate you if it came from anyone else. From Polly, however, it just captures your attention, and suddenly you’re awake again.

“You didn’t send him?” you question.

“We don’t send Finn to do anything,” Polly says. “And this is exactly why. He gets infatuated. He’s not like his brothers, dear - he isn’t completely heartless.”

You blink, unsure what she means. She’s still smiling, still staring like she’s waiting for you to catch on, too.

You lean back, folding your arms over your chest. “None of your business dealings have to do with Finn. Keep him out of it.”

“We never dragged him into it in the first place,” says Michael. He, too, is grinning, though he has the decency to hide it behind his whiskey glass. “That’s all on Finn, I’m afraid, and who are we to tell him to back off?”

You scowl. “You Shelby’s really enjoy walking on thin ice, don’t you?”

“You said it yourself, love,” says Polly. “Finn has nothing to do with our business dealings, meaning his actions have no connection to what we’ve got going on. If you were to cancel all of this because of him, you’re going against your own quote.”

You hate that she’s right. You hate that she’s got your arm twisted behind your back, hate that she has even the tiniest bit of control over you and your decisions. But she’s paid you already. The first delivery of guns has already been set up, already been stored away for later use - taking everything back now would just be a hassle.

Plus, it would be giving Finn the control he clearly wants, and you can’t have that.

Because why else would he come and see you? Why else would he want an insight into your business process?

When you fail to reply, Polly sighs, an almost dreamy sound clearly meant to infuriate you. You look at her through the tops of your eyes, watching as she snatches the glass of whiskey from her sons hand and takes a sip for herself. Michael doesn’t even flinch, just folds his arms over his chest and continues watching you like a predator watching prey.

“I only came here for an update on my guns,” says Polly. “But I’ve received something much, much more interesting.”

“Your boy is an idiot,” you snap. “If he thinks he’s getting anything out of me-”

“Finn isn’t one to care for family business.” Polly grins, tilting her head to the side; it’s that look she’s famous for, the one that makes anyone feel ten times smaller. “If he came to visit you, it wasn’t for business of any sort. I’d maybe ask him what he wants next time you see him.”

Michael smiles, a dimple popping on his left cheek. “Cute.”

“Go to hell,” you spit.

Polly chuckles, placing a hand on Michaels arm. Together, the two of them rise from their seats and start towards the door; they didn’t even get their update, but they both look smugly content, like they’ve gotten exactly what they came for.

You hug your knees closer to your chest, fully aware that the pose makes you look cowardly, but you don’t care right now. You watch them leave, Polly giving you the smallest wave over her shoulder before her and her son disappear through the door; outside, the halls get quiet. You can hear the back door slam shut before the hustle and bustle of business life starts back up again.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall to your knees again; you’re exhausted, even more confused than you were when you first laid eyes on Finn this morning, and quite frankly, in no fit shape to be dealing with the Shelbys’ bullshit.

---

“Look, there’s nothing we can do. One of the orders went missing, and we can’t find a way to get it back.”

“Great. Fucking fantastic! This is exactly what we wanted today, eh?”

Luther lowers his head, blonde hair falling in his eyes; he’s trying to hide his shame, but you see right through him. There’s horror there, an acceptance of the punishment he and the entire team will be receiving from the Peaky Blinders if this deal does not go to plan.

You run your hands through your hair. “How does an entire order of guns go missing?”

“My best bet is it was stolen,” says Luther. “Going through all them borders, it’s not far-fetched to imagine someone with sticky fingers getting their hands on it.”

“Yeah, well, they’ll think twice when I cut off those fucking sticky fingers.”

“And who are you threatening?”

No.

This is the last thing you need, the absolute last thing you need. You whirl around nonetheless, like Finn is a magnet you are drawn to - and there he stands, tall and lanky and gorgeous but so, so smug and annoying that it nearly makes you want to rip your hair out.

You grit your teeth, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Who let you through?”

Finn grins, striding forward. He examines the crates on his way towards you, stopping only when he is centimetres away from exactly where you are stood. “No one needs to let me through. You’ve got some loyal people here, Y/N, but you’re forgetting the Peaky Blinders run Birmingham.”

“So the rumours say.”

“You never answered my question, though - who are you threatening?”

He’s going to find out eventually. In a weeks time when he and his family are receiving their order of guns and they are an entire crate short, he’s going to know exactly what happened.

You glance up at him, and you feel something break inside you. You can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but you’ve felt it before, tried fighting it off so many times. It’s linked to those blue eyes, blood-shot with exhaustion and years of seeing things no man should ever have to see. It’s linked to the way he stands, so close you can feel his warmth radiating off them stupidly expensive suits he has the honour of wearing every single day. It’s linked to the tilt of his head, the small smile that seems to only appear when he’s taking the piss out of you.

You look back to the ground, shoving these thoughts aside enough to say, “One of our orders went missing during delivery and we can’t get it back.”

The admission is like a blow to the chest, even though it shouldn’t be - it was a simple mistake, one you had no control over. But it’s a mistake that shouldn’t have been in place, a mistake you’ve never made before, a mistake that is linked to Polly fucking Gray.

Finn pauses for a brief moment. Looking up, you notice his eyes are no longer trained on you, but on a spot just by your head. His lower lip jults out, and if you listen close enough, you can make out the sound of him humming.

“Polly isn’t gonna be too happy about that,” he says finally.

You fold your arms over your chest. “No. I don’t think she will.”

“That’s not very good, is it?”

You glare. “Fuck off, Finn.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. The move surprises you, considering it’s the most emotion you’ve ever seen a Shelby display in a sober state; it’s nice, but you curse the warmth that immediately spreads to your chest. It forces you to take a step back, just for safety.

“Right, what are we gonna do about this, then?” he says, lowering his head to glance at the crates. “I’ve got a few orders I can probably spare - throw a couple onto the pile.”

You blink, not entirely positive you’ve heard him right.

He looks down, raising a brow at your silence. “What?”

“What?”

He chuckles. “Isaiah and I have more guns than we can store. We can toss a few onto your shitty little pile-”

“Watch your mouth.”

“And then you’ll have nothing to worry about. What do you say?”

“There’s a catch.”

“No there isn’t.”

“I’m not stupid, Finn.” You take another step back, very nearly tripping over a worker bustling past. “I know your family. You don’t do things for others unless you want something in return.”

Finn scowls, folding his arms over his chest. “Why does everyone just assume me and my family have the exact same personalities? We’re different people, you know, and I just so happen to be willing to help you without getting anything back.”

This is something you can’t even fully wrap your head around - he’s Finn Shelby. He’s a Peaky Blinder. Him and generosity do not - and will not - go hand in hand.

Finn groans, tilting his head and closing his eyes. “Do you want the offer or not? ‘Cause I can just go back to The Garrison and tell Polly you’re-”

“Let me see what you’ve got.”

His eyes flick open. That smile starts again. “Of course. Follow me.”

And that’s how you end up alone with Finn Shelby, standing in a freezing cold storage locker, surrounded by more crates of guns than your maths skills allow you to count.

Wrapping your arms around your middle, you say, “Holy fuck,” because that honestly seems like the only decent response you can give to a sight like this.

Finn slips his blazer off, drops it casually over your shoulders before he strides forward and starts unclipping the lids of the crates. “Yeah, it’s quite a lot. We got carried away when the Russians were around.”

“Right. Russians.”

He jumps up, balancing one foot on the edge of a crate as he looks inside and rummages through what can only be a great, great number of guns. They scrape against each other, and you can imagine the scratches currently infesting their slick black armour with how badly they’re being handled.

You tug Finn’s blazer tighter around yourself, biting your tongue.

“We’ve got all sorts,” he explains. “Pistols, automatics, semi-automatics, pump actions-”

He tosses a pistol onto the floor.

You yelp. “Finn!”

He glances over his shoulder, a glimmering smile on his face. “I knew that was gonna rile you up.”

You pick up the gun and stuff it in the waistband of your jeans. “You’re such an asshole. Do you know how dangerous it is to go round throwing guns about? What if the safety hadn’t been on?”

“Why wouldn’t the safety be on?” He goes back to rummaging, shaking his head. “Honestly, you think I’m some kind of fucking amateur-”

You groan and stomp forward, grabbing his arm and yanking him down from the crates. He stumbles into your chest, turning to look at you, but you’re already pulling yourself up onto the ledge he was previously stood upon.

“What are you doing?”

“A better fucking job than you, that’s for sure.”

He doesn’t respond, but you hear him chuckle.

The crates are truly what a serial killers dream would be made of - piles upon piles of guns, all sorts of guns, crammed in a single crate. Some of them have the safety gauze on them, whilst some just hang out loosely, a danger to anyone who handles them too roughly - it’s this danger that sends a thrill swirling through your stomach, this danger that prompts you to reach forward and grab one from the box.

Finn tenses. “Careful.”

“A Colt, hm.” You point and aim at the storage room door. “1903 model, yeah?”

“I haven’t looked.”

You nod. “Definitely a 1903 model. Don’t see many of these around nowadays.”

Finn sighs. “Put it down. We’re not here to piss about.”

“I’m not pissing about. I happen to know exactly what I’m doing.”

“I’ve never seen you shoot a gun in your life.”

You scoff. “You haven’t seen me do a lot of things, Finn Shelby.”

Why he is so rattled, you do not know. Usually so calm and laid back, the youngest Shelby now stomps towards you, grabs your wrist-

“Finn! What the fuck?”

You try tugging your hand out of his grip, but his fingers tighten. Your arms are tossed over your head in the quarrel, your own fingers tightening on the trigger, just enough for a bullet to speed into the roof. Concrete crumbles over your head, and you barely have time to yell before Finn’s arms have wrapped round your waist and he’s tugging you to the ground, his broad body thrown on top of your own.

An entire chunk of concrete collapses, landing and smashing on the cold floor, just inches from where you and Finn are currently kneeled.

You pause. Your heart thunders. You can hear nothing but his breath tickling the side of your head, your blood rushing to your ears. The Colt 1903 lays discarded by the crates you have just been thrown from, and Finn’s arm is still on the small of your back when you finally emerge back into reality.

“Finn,” you whisper. There’s dust in your throat, blood on your elbows and knees.

“Yeah?” he whispers back.

“I won’t have to pay for that damage, will I?”

Finn pulls back, hand snaking along your hip as he pushes himself up onto his elbow to take a look at the damage in question. You hear him take a sharp breath, fingers tightening on your hip before he stands up. You follow shortly after, eyes widening as soon as you take a look at what has happened.

“Oh, fuck.”

The cracks in the floor aren’t even the worst bit of it; there’s a chunk taken from the roof, wires and long pieces of wood hanging down. Dust floats through the air, blinding you for seconds at a time until you eventually swat it away. An entire crate of guns has been knocked over, and it’s only by the good grace of God that none of them went off in the collision.

Finn stands to the side, one hand trailing through his hair, the other rubbing absently at his stomach; his lower lip is pulled between his teeth, a clear sign that he has absolutely no idea what to do, that the two of you are more than likely going to be in deep, deep trouble when one of the other Peaky Blinders finds this mess.

“Are you alright?”

You close your eyes. “It’s not really been my day, Finn, so no. I can’t say I am.”

Finn purses his lips. It’s rare for anyone to see a Shelby look awkward, but the way Finn shifts from one foot to the other screams of nothing more than pure, unfiltered ohfuckohfuckohfuck. He runs his hands through his hair, glancing at the damage done to both the roof, the guns and the ground, and it is very clear that he’s already dreading the process of telling his family what has happened.

You know you should do something - anything at all, something to help him out of this dilemma. At the end of the day, you played a part in this mess. You had the gun, had startled Finn enough for him to dive towards you in his fragile attempts to get it off you.

But why was he so worried in the first place?

You hollow out your cheeks, stuffing your hands in your pockets when you say, “I’ll tell Tommy.”

Finn stiffens. “No you won’t.”

“This is my mess to deal with. We wouldn’t even be in here if it wasn’t for me fucking up the order-”

“Tommy will fucking kill you if he thinks you’ve been screwing with his collection.” Finn starts towards the door. “I’ll tell him. You take whatever crate you want and get the fuck out of-”

You spring forward before he can reach the door, grabbing his wrist and twirling him around. His eyes widen slightly, mouth parting as he attempts to get a single protestation in, but you’re quicker. You shove him behind you and dart out the door, hearing nothing but a strangled, “Y/N!” emerge from behind you.

You know where Tommy is; he’s where Tommy always is, hiding away in his office. Despite having not had any communication with the Shelby boy for quite some time, you’ve kept an eye on him and his whereabouts, purely for your own safety. This is why you’re able to make the journey from the docks to his front door in a very short amount of time.

But Finn is also just as quick as you.

He grabs your wrist just seconds before you make to knock upon the massive mahogany door, red paint chipped and crumbling beneath your knuckles. He tugs your arm back, and you stumble directly into his chest.

“You have a fucking death wish,” Finn growls in your ear.

You lean your head against his shoulder, whisper in his ear, “So will you if you don’t let go of me in the next three seconds.”

His fingers loosen just enough for you to pull forward and knock the door. Your heart is thundering; you’re doing this for Finn, and you don’t know why, because he’s never done anything for you, but the thought of him walking into his brothers office and taking the blame for something you played a part in will not let you rest.

The door opens in mere seconds, Francis standing on the other side of it. She raises a brow when she sees you, a sure sign that she’s heard of you before - maybe you’re infamous in the Shelby household, a common name spoken around a candlelit dinner in which Polly Gray has a grand old time talking about how much of a bitch you are.

Nonetheless, you’re not here to find out.

“Morning,” you say, giving the maid a nod. “Can I speak to Thomas please?”

“Y/N, please,” Finn utters as Francis moves out of the way and grants the two of you access to the oversized building - only three people live inside it, but it could honestly be a hotel with how big it is.

You start up the winding staircase, Finn trailing close behind. You don’t answer his muttered plea, too invested in the artwork lining the walls as you climb to the top level - pictures of Grace, drawn in granite yet somehow managing to capture the way her blonde hair used to curl, used to glint and shine with the unnatural light of the Garrison. Pictures of Tommy, sitting with a young boy in his lap and a scowl on his face that somehow manages to look a little more chipper than the scowl he’s usually wearing; perhaps that is him posing, getting ready for a pleasant family picture with his growing son and dead wife.

“She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

The question is out before you can think better of it. You have halted in the middle of the staircase, transfixed on a picture of Grace stood on her own, small smile on her face, hands folded along the top of an empty chair big enough to be a throne.

Finn steps up beside you. “That’s why Tommy liked her so much.”

You risk a glance in his direction. Hands stuffed in his pockets, lip between his teeth, he’s the picture of uncaring. “Did you talk to her much?”

“No.” He looks at you and shrugs. “You know how Tommy is - he doesn’t share stuff like that.”

“He doesn’t share women?”

“He doesn’t share feelings.” Finn gestures to the portrait. “Grace was his whole life for a while. I don’t think he was ready to incorporate us into his whole life.”

You look away, cheeks blazing for a reason you are unsure of - hearing Finn talk like that, perhaps. So open and honest, like he’s talking to someone he can trust. It makes you feel a little guilty, considering you know for a fact Polly will never allow something like. . . that to form between you. She’s already decided she doesn’t like you - there’s no way in hell she’ll have you as part of the family.

Dispelling these thoughts - and the disappointment that comes with them - you slowly start back up the stairs. Once you reach the mahogany doors of Tommy’s office, you risk Finn another glance before knocking, knowing there is no going back after this.

“Come in.”

Finn grabs your arm. “Let me go first.”

“You really think I’m some kind of wimp, don’t you?”

Finn scowls. “Just let me go first and test the air, for fuck sake.”

You bow out of the way, gesturing grandly to the door. “Go ahead then, O’Great Little Bastard.”

Finn kicks you in the ankle before pushing open the door. His broad shoulders cover you, confirmed when Tommy says, “Ah, Finn,” with no mention of you standing behind him.

Finn waltzes into the room, and then Tommy’s eyes land on you.

They’re like ice - you’ve always said that. Piercing and dangerous, holding years worth of stories that look so interesting but too dangerous to hear. He sits with his shoulders drawn back, one hand placed on his forehead and his mouth slightly parted, having clearly not been expecting guests this evening.

Finn shifts, glancing slightly to the side, making sure you’re still there, that Tommy’s gaze hasn’t somehow managed to obliterate you in the past two seconds. You step forward, drawing your own shoulders back when you say, “Mr Shelby.”

Tommy doesn’t respond. He slips his gaze to his youngest brother and tilts his head. “What the fuck have you got yourself involved in now, Finn?”

“Tommy-”

You take another step forward, grabbing Finn’s arm to silence him. “I shot a hole in the roof of one of your storage units.”

There it is. That’s all you needed to say, and yet the words taste like acid when they make an appearance. Thomas - forever the professional at hiding his true emotions - keeps his head tilted, but his eyes are on you now, and that makes it all ten times worse. You held yourself well in front of Polly, but Tommy is a completely different ball-game. He really isn’t all talk. He isn’t one to make a decision and then go back on it - if he’s thinking of your death right now, you will be dying.

Finn lowers his head. “Right, it wasn’t exactly all Y/N’s fault.”

“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” Tommy says calmly.

You look at Finn, and he looks back. There’s a tiny, silent conversation being held that lasts only the space of two seconds before Finn is stepping forward, and you’re yanking his arm trying to get him back, and suddenly the two of you are brawling in the middle of Thomas Shelby’s office.

You’re both trying to explain everything, but the words are mashed and nonsensical because Finn has his elbow in your side and you have one ankle wrapped around his leg. His arm is wrapped around your waist, tightening as he tries to shove you off him.

Tommy slams a stamp against the desk. “Enough!”

You and Finn freeze, your hand bundled in his shirt, his hand wrapped around your middle.

Tommy scowls. “Fuck me, it’s like talking to children.”

You separate quickly, brushing your hands down your clothes. “He was gonna take the blame, ‘cause he’s an idiot.”

“I grabbed your hand!” Finn exclaims. “You wouldn’t have shot the fucking thing if I hadn’t-”

“We wouldn’t have been there in the first place if it weren’t for me!”

Finn rolls his eyes. “Oh, give it a rest, Y/N.”

“Am I wrong?”

“We’re not here to talk about why we were there-”

“Why were you there?”

You close your eyes. You’re a professional, though, and you’ve dealt with issues like this too many times to count. Finn exhales shakily, but you don’t let him take the reigns. You step forward and say, “One of the deliveries for Polly’s order went missing on its way over, so we’re missing an entire crate.”

Tommy pauses. “So you were going into my storage units to - what? Steal?”

“I took them in,” Finn interjects. “Tommy, you know what Polly will do if she finds out her order isn’t exactly what she signed for. She would have killed Y/N and their entire crew in two seconds flat.”

Tommy runs a hand along his face. “And she’s got every bloody right to do that, Finn. You’ve no reason to interject in her business.” Tommy looks up, gestures to you. “Why do you give a shit what happens to them anyway?”

“Have a fucking guess.”

Your breath leaves you in one clean swoop, eyes snapping to take in Finn’s profile; he doesn’t even look tense, simply standing there with his arms swinging and his head tilted. You don’t even know how to properly decipher what he’s just said, but you don’t get a chance to before Tommy is sighing and saying, “Fuck sake, Finn.”

“What?” Finn shoots back. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Not with one of our rivals, it wasn’t!”

“Sorry, Tom, but last time I checked, Grace wasn’t just an innocent little barmaid.”

Tommy stands, knocking the desk with his knees. His hands are balled, jaw clenched, and it’s reflex when you step forward and grab Finn’s arm, tugging him back just that little bit. You want to drag him from the room completely, get him out of harms way, pull him into an empty room and question him on what the fuck is going on right now.

“You’ve got some mouth on you, Finn. I just wanna know where you got it from,” Tommy growls.

And Finn leans forward, not unlike a shark wading through dark water. “Where we all got it from - the Peaky Blinders.”

You expect Tommy to snap - with anyone else, he would have snapped a long time ago. The conversation would have long since been over, but now, the older Shelby glares, and you watch as his eyes soften. It’s so unusual, so unlike the Thomas you know; you take it as a warning, tightening your grip on Finn’s arm.

Tommy’s eyes snap to your own. “I’ll talk to Polly about the missing delivery.”

Your eyes widen. “You will?”

“Stay out of her way for a little bit,” he says. “She’ll need time to cool down, but I won’t let her hurt you. Finn won’t let her hurt you.”

“I’m not scared of Polly,” you reply, because you aren’t, and it feels important to let him know that.

Thomas opens his mouth to respond, to maybe call you stupid for not fearing the woman, but Finn turns before he can get the words out, and suddenly it’s as if Tommy isn’t even in the room. Finn’s eyes meet your own, soft and glazed and exhausted from years of mental torment, but for the first time since you met the man, you can see a tiny hint of humanity within them, a tiny hint of human emotion that he certainly never expressed before.

It’s such a good look on him.

A small smile graces his features. He tilts his head to the side, placing a gentle hand over the top of your own, still clutching the sleeve of his blazer. “I’ll walk you back to the docks.”

You would usually say no, but you can’t right now - you have so many questions, so many missing links that you need joined together for this meeting to make sense. In and out in a heartbeat, even though you’d walked in under the assumption that Tommy was going to happily order your death.

So you and Finn walk out of Tommy’s house, Finn saying a quick goodbye to Charlie before the two of you are once again exposed to the dusty, polluted air of Small Heath. Finn tucks his hands in his pockets, and you dip your chin further into your scarf, neither of you saying a word because neither of you know what to say.

Which is weird considering your brain is a tangled mess of questions right now.

It’s Finn who breaks the silence. “That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Finn bites his lip, suppressing a smile. “Don’t act stupid.”

You shrug like his words from before meant nothing, like they hadn’t made your heart erupt. “I thought it was pretty well done, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“A little unclear, I won’t lie, but I think I got the jidst of it.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

The thing about you and Finn is, both of you are new to this. There is no experience to back up these kinds of feelings, which leaves behind only a vague sense of uncertainty. It’s reaching in the dark. It’s asking for help when neither of you want to give up your pride. It’s wanting to try because this is something new, and the rush from a new experience is what you thrive off.

These are feelings that trigger both your fight and your flight response, and you’re not sure whether you want to flee or stay and see how things turn out.

---

The desk, cluttered.

Your head, sore.

Your fingers, littered with paper cuts.

You slump in your office chair, a single candle lit on the corner of your desk, the only source of light in the room currently with drawn curtains and no lanterns on; you can’t bring yourself to go around turning them on, preferring the dim light for concentration.

The papers in front of you make absolutely no sense, but you can’t just ignore them. It’s your job to make sure everything is in order, whether you understand the details or not.

“Fuck sake,” you whisper to yourself.

The door flings open then, as if your curse summoned someone.

You don’t even have to look up to know who that someone is - Finn Shelby is the only person in the world who would just barge into your office without knocking. He’s the only person in the world who can get away with it.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. You’ll damage your eyes sat in here.”

You don’t look up. “Don’t turn a light on.”

“Oh right. You’re busy.”

You wave a dismissive hand in his direction, using your other hand to shuffle through the pages scattering your desk. So many words, so little time to figure them out. The client will be here tomorrow. They’ll expect everything to be in order, because you promised them everything would be in order, but now you’re sat behind your desk and you don’t even know where to begin-

Fingertips, light as butterfly wings, tickle along your jaw line.

Your eyes snap up, breath leaving you in a single swoop when you see Finn sat on the edge of your desk, a fond smile on his face as he traces his fingers along the curve of your jaw, down your neck until he pauses at the collar of your fluffy dressing gown.

“Stressed?”

You swat his hand away. “None of this shit makes sense. It’s driving me insane.”

Finn sighs, swinging his legs over the desk and pushing himself over to your side. He lands beside you and kneels down, taking a look at the pages you were previously dawdling over.

You glance at him. “Why are you bothering?”

Finn picks up a page, squinting. “Just because I can’t read, doesn’t mean I can’t be useful.”

You snatch the page back. “Yes it does.”

“Take a break.”

You scoff, the idea ludicrous.

Finn raises a brow, tilting his head to intercept your line of sight. “I mean it. If that client tomorrow has a problem, he can come to me about it.”

“This is my business, Finn. I have responsibilities that need to be sorted.”

“You also have a lad who also needs to be sorted.”

You narrow your eyes, glancing at him. “What a pervy thing to say.”

“It’s my way of telling you I miss you without sounding like a knob.”

You snort. “It didn’t work.”

Finn grabs your hand, twirling you around to face him. He stands to his full height, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him from your place in the desk chair. He smiles, swiping his thumb along your lower lip.

“How about I get Isaiah to have a look through these pages for you tomorrow morning, hm?” he asks.

“Finn…”

“You’re exhausted, Y/N. I’m doing you a favour. Now stop being a twat and let’s get-”

“I feel like you just want me to go home with you.” You look up at him, raising a brow. “Even though Arthur said…”

Finn rolls his eyes, grabbing your hands and tugging. “Fuck what Arthur said. Just come home.”

Home. His place. His room. His bed. His warmth. All of it is home now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You sigh and stand up, giving into his complaints. His smile gets wider when you rise from the chair and wrap your arms around his shoulders, revealing just how right he was - you are exhausted.

He hugs you back, swaying a little bit before he presses a kiss to your lips; just a small one, because kissing when he means it is still something a little unknown to Finn Shelby; he used to kiss the girls his brothers hired for him, but he’s openly admitted to you that he never felt like he should, he never felt like them kisses mattered. Now, he kisses you with precision, making sure to draw back every now and then to make sure it’s okay, he’s okay, he’s doing a good job.

You grin, tapping your tongue against his lower lip in that way that drives him insane. “I liked it when you said you were my lad.”

Finn scowls, crinkling his nose up. Freckles scatter his face, constellations against a pale sky. “Don’t think too deep into it.”

“I’m going to.”

Finn picks you up bridal style. You don’t even squeal, simply rest your head against his shoulder, humming into his neck. “Let’s get you to bed, love. You’ve gone delirious.”

“Isaiah better not lose me a fucking client tomorrow.”

Finn chuckles. “We’ll find out in the morning.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders one shot #finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby one shot #finn shelby fanfiction #finn shelby fic #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby fanfic #peaky blinders reader insert #finn shelby fluff #peaky blinders writing

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

Text

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- This chapter.....yeah, lets not get into it. Also, I don’t know if beach houses have garages, so please just humor that possible, tiny plot hole)

Summary Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Warnings- Angst, again,

Chapter 10- California State of Mind

The not so distant crashing of waves against the populated shore acted as background music to their breakfast date. From where they sat, on the patio of the ocean side cafe, they could see the cool blue gleaming under the glory of warm yellow, while the white foam threading the tops of the waves merely appeared merely as thick, jagged bands of white. The scenic view was off to their side, her right and his left; rough, green hills, with sparse bursts of brown topped it all off, houses and vacation homes made to seem smaller with distance. The beauty of Malibu never failed to be absolutely breathtaking.

Y/n sat on the opposing side of the small, round table, the little, white china tea cup stationed on the matching saucer looked almost as delicate as Keanu thought she was. His eyes were fixed on her, and Keanu looked at her the way he always did, as if it were the last time. As if she'd change her mind about him at any given minute, and in an instant, he'd be left living a life void of her. It wasn't like he hadn't given her reasons to leave either, the holding back, the absence of in depth connection, it might have made any woman leave.

But Y/n wasn't just 'any woman'.

She was-

"Look at that," Y/n pointed a thin, fragile finger past towards the distance, disrupting his thoughts. Keanu hadn't looked in that direction yet, not seeing what she had, but already, he was matching her bright grin.

He shifted his gaze, but still couldn't quite make out what she wanted him to see, "What are you talking about?"

"That," Y/n turned in the wicker chair, folding one smooth leg under herself as she turned towards the wooden railing, guarding the deck, elevated off the shore. Y/n didn't give any further direction, to caught up in whatever she was seeing, eyes glittering with quiet joy, the morning heat flushing her cheeks and her smile gaping and breathless.

After a moment more of searching, Keanu thought that he'd found what she was pointing at; a little spectacle on the beach, a group of performers doing a demonstration on the sand, surrounded by a small group of giddy spectators. "Do you wanna go closer?" Keanu leaned forward, taking her hand that laid absently near her tea, fingers curled in and long, manicured nails barely grazing her palm. Y/n's hand was easily engulfed by Keanu's, her tender touch contrasting his slightly calloused one. Awaiting her answer, Keanu regarded her with soft admiration and unspoken wonder, Y/n was a lot of things, beautiful, intelligent, interesting and for a while, his.

For a while.

They hadn't brought up anything from the last week gone by, the confrontation with her father, their heart-wrenching dance at the bar or the oozing ache from the morning after. They never talked about anything that would constitute them being, in most respects, a healthy couple. Instead, Y/n and Keanu had somehow buried it inside themselves, he'd hid behind the mask of nonchalance and she'd taken up pretending that nothing of the sort had happened. It was better that way, or so he thought.

"No," she shook off his offer, finally turning to face him again. Bringing the elegantly detailed china to her full lips, she took a brief sip, before gently setting it back down and squinting her eyes at Keanu, "Why are you looking at me like that?" When she tilted her head, some of her loosened tresses cascaded down her shoulder, some of it brushing the "v" of her sparsely exposed cleavage, and the rest strewn over her bare upper arm.

Huffing, Keanu quickly glanced away, hoping his growing out, salt and pepper scruff would hide the pinkness in his cheeks, "Looking at you like what?" He faced Y/n again, finding her penetrative stare still cast in his direction. He never wanted her to catch him staring like that. There was a lot that he didn’t want her to know.

"I don't know," Y/n shrugged, just as a salty, cool breeze ruffled their hair, strands whipping at their faces. Unlike Keanu, Y/n scoffed quietly, fighting against it to shift her hair off her cheeks, running her unattached hand through it as the air settled again. Keanu kept staring through it all, not even realizing that his lips were still quirked in an absent, adoring smile. She really was stunning, in a soft sort of way, not too in your face, but certainly well above average. Keanu would often suspect that Y/n was only of those girls that children would gleefully mistake for a princess. Alas, he didn’t know any children, so the point was mute. “You never look at me like that,” Y/n eventually continued, and Keanu couldn’t tell, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was his stare, but there was a distinct, rouge, hue tinting the apples of her cheeks and the edges of her ears, making her matte, nude lipstick stand out and her eyes seem brighter.

Licking his lips, Keanu just shook his head, “I don’t-” He cut himself off when his ears caught their names in a conversation at a table not too far off. For the briefest moment, he glanced around, realizing that it was coming from a group of young girls were at a table, just a couple over, barely in earshot.

“Are they dating or something?”

“Oh my god, they’re holding hands, definitely.”

“She’s so young though. Look at how old she makes him look.”

“Just hurry up and take a picture.”

Keanu didn’t have enough time for his reaction to be organic, and when he jerked his hand away from Y/n’s, she jumped, surprised and he hit his elbow noisily on table top, some of the wares clattering loudly, drawing some more unwanted attention. Clearing his throat, Keanu tried to act natural, ignoring Y/n’s probing gaze, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he loudly cleared his throat again, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, “Why don’t we go for a walk?” Keanu declared, not really giving Y/n any sort of room to politely decline or say that she preferred to stay for a bit longer before he was hastily chucking a generous amount of notes beneath his half filled coffee mug, certainly enough to cover their breakfast bill and then some.

“Sure,” Y/n seemed weary, though still taking Keanu’s offered hand, which he quickly retracted when she stood, letting him lead her out of the cafe, his palm barely touching the upper part of her back.

Y/n couldn’t determine what had stirred it, but the change in Keanu’s behavior had been almost instant. He’d never had a problem with affection before that morning, but within mere minutes, there had been significant changes. Since he’d let her hand go at the quaint little restaurant, nearly a half mile back, he hadn’t dared to take it again and his had stayed at the center of her back, barely touching the skin left exposed by her flowing, white sundress and even with that, he’d been sure to leave some space between them. There’d been less distance between them when they were just friends.

“What’s going on with you?” Y/n gently broke his thoughts, noticing his pensive stare cast towards the water as they strolled along the shore.

Shrugging, Keanu started swinging his other arm, the one where his hand held his shoes. The water washing the shore occasionally, more times than not, would reach their feet, the chill renewed each time it happened and the pull of the sand that followed each time was a little comforting. “You know,” he changed the topic, a clear indication that the matter wasn’t up for discussion, “Sunsets look great from up there,” he gestured to the hills, specifically to a little cliff in the distance that appeared to jut out, hanging over a sapphire depth, “I should take you some time.”

“I’d like that,” Y/n forced a smile, pretending that his reluctance to address the matter didn’t sting a bit. Nearly three months together, and still, he didn’t trust her enough to let her in? What were they doing anyway? Hesitantly, Y/n turned a bit as they walked, reaching up to peck his bearded cheek, her breath catching soundlessly when Keanu flinched.

It was almost like he didn’t really want to be there with her.

Blinking the ache away, Y/n sucked in a deep breath, her heart slowing a little when they reached a more secluded part of the beach, where there were still people, but not too much on the shore, most of them opting to ride the waves. Just up ahead, maybe about another mile and a half or so was where her father lived, his house among many of the other impressive Malibu properties. Maybe she should go see him when it was time for her and Keanu to part, they hadn’t spoken since he’d left her place after all.

“I’m going to Santa Clara next week,” Y/n blurted out when the silence started to bear down on them, the weight of it hefty on her shoulders, though apparently going unnoticed by Keanu.

“To see your aunt?” His glance directed at Y/n barely lasted ten seconds and it was only when they opted to perch themselves amidst a cluster of boulder formations on the higher parts, where they were dry, while the lower half was covered in moss and no doubt housed crabs and other little wonders of marine life, did Keanu seem a little more relaxed, snaking an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close, so Y/n’s head could rest in his side. It was confusing, the little, though obvious shifts, even if they’d just started. He seemed to turn on and off so easily. “You’re gonna spend the week?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n toyed with her loosely wringed fingers, twirling around rights and picking at her nails, “Maybe. Why?”

“Nothing,” Keanu quickly changed his mind though, and Y/n could have sworn that she saw him scoping around first, as if to ensure their privacy. “I guess I’d miss you,” he pecked the top of Y/n’s head, rubbing his nose into the scent of her coconut shampoo before pulling away.

“You could come with me,” Y/n had no idea where the suggestion came from, but suddenly she was hoping he’d say yes. It was without motive, and foreseeable reason, though Y/n did think that it would be nice to take Keanu along, so he could see where she’d spent most of her teenage life and meet the woman who’d practically raised her after she’d begged to leave her mother’s house at twelve.

Keanu pondered on the offer, and already, Y/n knew his answer. They weren’t even exclusive, not really, and things were so tumultuous between them, it was the last sort of situation that you took home. She didn’t know why she’d asked anyway. “I don’t know,” he seemed to be in search of an easy let down, his whiskey pools still matching the water before them. Some of the surfers were starting to disperse, the refreshing morning sun now taking on a new intensity as minutes towards midday ticked on, “I’ve got a lot to do at Arch, and I still wanna spend some time with my sister and mom. I’m sorry,” he added, quite awkwardly, at the end.

Y/n, once again, tried to fake that ever popular, California nonchalance, the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude. So what if he didn’t want to go? “It’s fine,” she waved the issue off, hoping the thickness in her chest was one she could soon easily swallow, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks baby,” he barely grinned empathetically, “Maybe next time.”

Maybe there wouldn’t be a next time.

For a while longer, they remained there, though things weren't as comfortable as they used to be. Even if that date was really intended as a way of bridging the gaping gap between them, it had only served to widen it. That morning, they were meant to push past everything that had happened in the past week, neither of them really wanted to talk about it anyway, but Y/n couldn’t help but think that it had significantly grown, and only in the matter of a couple hours.

Y/n was just letting Keanu help her off the rocks, stumbling into his chest as she jumped down. Surprised, he steadied her at the waist and she gulped thickly as they stared at each other, swallowing awkwardly. It took a minute, but eventually they both chortled quietly, reveling in the brief moment of normalcy. It was nice to, even for less than a minute, return to what they were before, whatever that was.

Clearing his throat quietly, he put some space between them, not much, but just enough for Y/n to notice, “Come on,” he turned, headed towards the way back, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Actually,” Y/n gently weaned her hand out of his, knowing that he definitely wouldn’t want to walk with her to Roger’s place, “I think I’m gonna go see my dad, his place is right up there,” she nudged her head towards the row of impressive houses lining the shore. Then after yet another strained exchange, Y/n and Keanu shared a cut-short goodbye kiss, and looking back once or twice uncomfortably, Keanu headed off.

When his figure grew small with distance, Y/n turned on her heel. Blocking out the sun with her free hand, Y/n dragged her lower lip through her teeth. She hadn’t been nervous about going to see her father until she’d actually begun the trek to his place, her feet sinking in the sand, making Y/n wish she could just be pulled under.

What was she supposed to say anyway?

That she was sorry for getting with one of his friends? That she was starting to think that he was right after all?

Neither seemed like a viable option, and anything that followed was in a similar respect. Everything was so complicated, and complicated was hard. Maybe it would have better if she and Keanu had just left things the way they were before, when they were just friends; friends that didn’t fuck. But now, it was too late. She liked him too much; the way he made her feel when things were good. It was incomparable, and it was all him. The laughs, his touch, how safe she felt when he held her.

Maybe he was worth the bad times, and if he wasn’t, then did it even matter?

Taking a deep breath, Y/n’s already leisurely pace slowed as she grabbed the smooth, white-painted, metal railing. Much unlike her shaking legs, her heart quickened. Her palms felt sweaty, and suddenly, the sun seemed hotter than it actually was.

Eventually, when she reached the front door, Y/n opted to push her finger into the little silver button, sounding the doorbell, rocking back and forth on her feet as she waited for someone to get the door.

But no one came.

It was strange, but only because Y/n could see his car in the garage, through the thick strips of blue tinted accent glass. Shaking off the first hints of gnawing worry, Y/n rang the doorbell again, twice, before sifting through her tiny shoulder bag for her keys. Getting the little bunch out, Y/n immediately singled out the spare to the house, inhaling nervously as she unlocked the door.

“Dad?” Y/n called tentatively upon entry, looking around and then straight up the stairs, finding no one in sight. "Dad?" Y/n called again, her tone peaked with curiosity when she heard a rustling coming from above.

Half of her wanted to investigate, while the other argued against it, urging her to leave and only come back after a phone call. Though, it wasn't hard to decipher which half won when Y/n's palm made contact with the cool material of the railing, skimming it as she headed up. Instead of calling again, Y/n carried on, following the the muffled sounds, apparently coming from down the hall.

She was near the end, finally about to call again, when, out of the master bedroom, came a woman, maybe a head taller that Y/n, long brunette hair interrupted by the first signs of grey. She was older, maybe mid forties, and just doing up the buttons of her pale blue shirt, long legs on display by a skirt that ended mid thigh. Y/n gasped softly, drawing her attention and jumping at the sight. "Who are you?" Were the first words that clumsily tumbled out of her mouth, which at that point could only work on instinct.

"Who are you?" The woman’s eyes squinted in return, not willing to just give away her identity to some random she'd met in the hallway of a house that wasn't hers.

"I asked first," Y/n scoffed defiantly, straightening her back and folding her arms, "Wh- dad?"

Was that what karma was?

It certainly felt like it.

Y/n's jaw hung slack and all but dragged on the hardwood floor as her father came out of the bedroom, the same one the woman had just left. Buttoning her shirt. With a wrinkled skirt. And bed hair!

There was a lot of things of Y/n didn't want to know. That was definitely at the top of her list.

"Kiddo," he tried to chuckle nervously, though failing miserably and only barely managing a contained huff of surprise.

"You have a kid?" The woman's eyes went wide as she turned to Roger.

"I'm not a kid," rolling her eyes, Y/n could easily recognize that the matter of her maturity was the least of everyone's problems, but it still seemed like a worthwhile mention.

"I do," Roger placed a gentle hand of the lady's back and Y/n tried to not be too alarmed, since her parents' divorce, she hadn't really seen him with another woman. It wasn't like she didn't want him to move on, in fact, Y/n could spend hours nagging him about it. Her mother had been remarried twice since everything had been finalized, and meanwhile, Y/n was sure that Roger hadn't dated anyone seriously since then. "Annie, this my daughter, Y/n. Y/n, this is my friend, Annie." Friend, right. Reluctantly, Y/n took Annie's offered hand, shaking shortly before hastily retracting, stiffly returning it to her side.

"It's nice to meet you," no it wasn't, not really. Maybe over dinner, where Y/n didn't have to know what she'd just found out; fine, but like that, not so much. "Dad," Y/n quickly refocused her attention, "If this is a bad time, I can come back."

"No, no," Roger huffed loudly, glancing towards the bewildered woman beside him, "Annie was just leaving."

"Right," she nodded vigorously, slightly shocked, her clear green gaze shifting between Y/n and Rogers's uncomfortably wooden forms, "I am. I'll see you around Rog," Rog? "And it was nice to meet you Y/n."

Awkward.

Y/n watched as Annie hurried down the hall, waiting for the district sound of the front door being pushed shut, before turning to her dad, "Dad!" She scolded impulsively, "You just kicked her out!"

"What?" Roger scoffed incredulously, licking his lips and leading them down the stairs, towards the kitchen, "No I didn't. She was ready to leave anyway."

"Ugh," Y/n rolled her eyes dramatically, glad that the spot light wasn't on her and even happier that Roger seemed far more at ease than he'd been the evening he stormed out of her place. "You are so bad at signals. She was not, you should have asked her to stay."

"Yeah, okay, I was not going to do that," Y/n eventually relieved her father of a steaming mug of coffee, prepared just the way she liked it, easing down onto a stool on the other side of the counter, "Besides, you're here, so we should talk."

The one thing she was avoiding, even though she'd ventured to his house. "Yeah," Y/n punctuated with a lengthy sip of her scalding coffee, nodding astutely as she set it down with a soft thud, "I guess we should." After that, they both seemed to be waiting for the other to break the tense silence, and eventually, Y/n was the one speaking up, "I'm sorry," she laid out, thinking on the matter yet again, "I should have said something, about Keanu."

Agreeing firmly, Roger leaned down on the counter, facing the pushed in stool next to her, "Yeah, you should have," he sighed. "But you are a grown woman, and you can see whoever you want," he smacked his lips, trying to soften his next words, "Even if it makes me wanna punch him in the face."

For a minute, Y/n waited for him to continue, holding her breath for more, for a long list of reasons why she shouldn’t be running around with Keanu, a lecture about how there were great men her age who’d treat her right if she gave them a chance, and maybe another about how aimless dating didn’t really make sense. But it never came. “That’s it?” Y/n grabbed half of her lower lip, dragging it through her teeth, “No…..”

“No what?” He huffed a chuckle, shaking his head, “You want the dad speech?” He eyed her curiously, though Y/n didn’t offer a response, “Well, I’m not gonna give it to you; you’ve grown, and so have I. It’s like I said,” he sipped his coffee as punctuation, “I’m not gonna like it, but I can’t stop you either.”

At that, Y/n smiled, and quietly thanked her father for his acceptance, be it as hesitant as it was. Glancing down into her mug, staring that the creamy contents, she quickly found that the spurt of jubilation was very short lived, and already, she was once again baring the wear and tear of her complicated relationship as an unsung bruise. Sure, her father had done a little to clear her guilt, but that didn't change the fact that she and Keanu seemed to be falling apart at the seams.

"Everything okay?" Y/n jumped slightly when her father reached put, tapping her wrist. Though, she quickly perked up, and while it was a little difficult, Y/n found a smile ready to be offered.

"Yeah," she shook her head, hoping the troubles would just fall away, "Yeah, I'm fine dad," she reassured, masking her lie with another sip of her coffee. "So," with ever intent of chasing the topic, Y/n set the cup down, "What's going on with you and Annie?"

Cocking a brow, Roger just shook his head, pushing away from the counter, "Do you really wanna know?"

"Eh," Y/n shook her shoulders absently, inwardly cringing of the thought of her father and some woman, whoever she was, "Probably not."

He hadn't meant to ice her out, to draw out visible hurt or to flip a switch just like that. They'd been having a good time, and for the first half of it, Keanu had gotten to thinking that things would be okay again, Y/n could somehow push past the ache of their ambiguity and he could gain some clarity on what exactly she meant to him. She meant something, he knew that much.

But then he caught wind of what those girls were saying. 'Look at how old she makes him look.' Keanu hadn't really paid it much mind before, but after he'd heard the words, sirens went off in his head. He was old, and Y/n was still bursting with life; young and far too easily impressed. There were more years between them than she'd lived and her affections for him couldn't be more than the by-product of her obvious, though unchecked, issues. They both had issues.

He was reckless and lonely and she was desperate to be more than she'd deemed herself.

With a soft oomph, Keanu slouched into the leather chair behind his sleek glass desk in his office at Arch. He hadn't bothered to alert anyone of his presence, wanting to have five more uninterrupted minutes with his thoughts before his meeting. Staring blankly at his helmet, discarded carelessly near the edge of the top, Keanu could feel himself losing awareness of the environment around him, immersing himself in his thoughts the throb of despair consuming him.

He didn't want to break up with her, at least not yet. But he didn't know where they were going either. The good was great and the bad was painful. And even if Keanu wanted to pretend the gap between them wasn't there, the events of that morning had proven that he and Y/n couldn't exist in their little bubble of privacy forever; sooner or later the public would know, and Keanu was stating to wonder if the hell they'd have to pay would be worth it.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @paanchu786 @thesadvampire @fanficsrusz @fickensteinn @ladyreapermc @babygirltaina @septimaseverina @snatchedbylele @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #angst #fluff #keanu reeves fanfiction #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #lana del rey #put me in a movie #chapter 10 #series

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missnmikaelson-main · 4 years

Text

The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising Chapter 3

He lounged in his chair, allowing it to turn from side-to-side as he surveyed the boy who that found his way into the office. His height bordered on the edge of lanky. As he sat his long fingers fidgeted, shoving shoulder length brown hair out of dark eyes. The aristocratic features held an air of familiarity, but he couldn’t quite place the boy’s face.

As he watched the boy’s hands dropped, tapping over his thighs.

“Where exactly did you come from?” Alaric tilted his head, taking pity on the boy.

“I… uh…” he rubbed his hands over his pants, “I doubt you would believe me.”

“You have walked into a school for the supernatural of which I am the headmaster,” he straightened up, tapping the desk with his pen. “I have been witness to the impossible for nearly twenty years, and that was before my daughters were magically implanted in their mother. There is very little I wouldn’t believe. Now why don’t you tell me where you came from? It’s not every day that we do a headcount of students and come up with an extra body.”

“Would you believe that I was dead yesterday, Dr. Saltzman?” He met the man’s eyes. “Or is that stretching your tolerance too far?”

“This is New Orleans,” Alaric’s eyebrows rose, “people have a tendency to not stay dead in this city. I suppose that means you’re a witch, then?”

“How did you…?”

“Dead yesterday, and alive today?” He tilted his head. “Alive today after a blood moon rose over the city.”

“For those who know how to use it the blood moon is a powerful celestial event,” he lowered his eyes. “I seized the opportunity to return to the land of the living, but time has passed and I… I find I no longer know this world.”

“Judging by your clothes you’ve been dead a long time,” Alaric joined his fingers together, glancing at the wool trousers. There was something the boy was hiding, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Are you going to make me leave?” He inhaled sharply, pushing his hair behind his ear.

“We’re not in the business of turning away children in need,” Alaric opened his desk drawer and pulled out a couple of forms, “besides, if I don’t let you stay where are you going to go?” He smiled gently and clicked open his pen. “Let’s start with your name.”

++++

A few strands of hair caught on her lip gloss as she tilted her head to balance the phone between her shoulder and ear; her fingers itched to brush it aside, but her grip on the awkward pile in hand meant the hair was doomed to tickle her skin.

"So somebody broke into the crypt?" She hoisted her supplies higher, muttering under her breath: "I swear, one of these years I'm going to take advantage of winter break."

"You say that every year, darling,” Kol lowered the air conditioner.

"If you can remember that you can remember to remind me of it,” she rolled her eyes. "And yes, I know you did. Do you think the break in had anything to do with the elemental typhoon last night?"

"I think there's a chance it wasn't a break in."

"What do you mean?" Elena pushed the mansion door open with her hip, pausing in the entry.

"Why don't I meet you for brunch after your first class and I'll explain."

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you."

She heard the clicks, signifying the end of call, and wiggled her shoulder until the phone settled on the top grimoire.

She swayed, trying to realign her burden.

"Do you require assistance, ma'am?"

"Oh please don't call me ma'am,” Elena grimaced, “it makes me feel old."

"Sorry,” the boy cleared his throat.

"Aren't you over a century old?"

"Erik Mikaelson,” she fixed her son with a mock glare, "just because you're back at boarding school doesn't mean I won't ground you. Who's your new friend?"

"This is Henry,” Erik gestured to the boy with shoulder length hair, "he's new. Henry, this is my mom, she teaches spell science and traveller magic."

"And Kemiya to the upper years,” Elena smiled. She looked Henry up and down as her eyes drew together. "I didn't know we were expecting any new students. It's nice to meet you, Henry, and thank you,” she shook her head, nodding down, “but I've got this; I'll let you get back to your tour."

"See you in class, mom."

Elena nodded once and then took off down the hall for the spell labs. She picked the pace when she heard a loud bang, hastening towards the plume of violet smoke..

++++

Stefan surveyed the damage again, getting one final look at his car’s ruined window.

"Do you two wanna be left alone?" Lexi placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. It was difficult to make the gesture reach her eyes. He had an unhealthy obsession with the Porsche; she suspected he was more upset about the car than the 'Damon-kabob'.

"She’ll be good as new by the time we get there,” Damon sighed, leaning his hip against the new car Stefan had insisted on. "And if we wanna get there by nightfall we've gotta go."

"Are windows like that even legal?" Lexi moved, pressing her palm to the dark glass.

"Depends on the state," he crossed his arms. His voice took on a sing song tone. "If luck is on my side then they won't work and you'll be a pile of ash by the freeway."

"Damon!"

"Nothing against you, babe,” he slid into the car.

"If feels like it.” She opened the back door and made herself comfortable, pushing some heavy blankets aside; if necessary they would shield her from the sun. She waited for Stefan to get in before leaning over the centre console, turning the back of her head on Damon. "Where exactly are we going because this doesn't feel permanent, and I really don't want to spend my limited time in a confined space with the dick that killed me."

"It wasn't personal,” he grumbled, turning over the ignition.

"Can it, Damon!” She drove her elbow back, cracking a rib.

"I don't want you spending what little time you have in the dark,” Stefan grinned, nudging her with his shoulder. "You are going to feel the sun on your face again, and if I have my way,” he squeezed her hand, "this will be permanent."

"You got some powerful witch up your sleeve?” She snickered.

"I got a couple who owe me a pretty big favour,” his smile threatened to split his face, "Damon doesn't want to see them."

"He turned my bones to dust last time."

"I love him already,” Lexi smirked.

"Kol will leave you alone as long as you don't flirt with or antagonize either of them.”

++++

Erik led the way over the yard, pointing to each place as he explained the purpose of them. So far they had visited the stables, greenhouses, and dorms and were now on the final leg of the outdoor tour.

"This is the field," he followed the edge, “we play all sorts of sports, but the school favourite is Wickery. It was a joint project between my mom and aunt Caroline, and it's the closest you're ever gonna get to real life Quidditch."

"Quidditch?” Henry frowned, tasting the unfamiliar word on his tongue.

"Yeah, you know," he prompted, "the famous game from Harry Potter? What rock have you been living under?"

"One that kept me ignorant of popular culture," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

The gesture was achingly familiar.

"I didn't mean anything by it,” he held out his hands. “I tend to speak before thinking sometimes, Mom says I get it from Dad."

"I have a couple of brothers like that,” Henry chuckled.

"You have brothers?" He started walking backwards, leading the way to the mansion.

"I have four brothers, and two sisters."

"Woah,” his jaw dropped. "That's gotta be chaotic. I've got one sister and three cousins, and Christmas is crazy."

"A lot of them are older, so it wasn't that bad, but I haven't seen any of them in a long time.” He smirked, and when he spoke again it was in a tone Erik knew and didn't. "I doubt they even remember what I look like."

"Oh," he frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be,” he waved a hand. “It wasn't anyone's fault. Sometimes things happen and you end up at a school you never thought you'd be at. How'd the school get here anyway?"

"Josie tells this story better,” he warned, "but I'll give it a try.” He turned around when Henry nodded and laid his hand on the deck.

“Long ago the mansion belonged to the old governor before my family took possession of it. It sat untouched for a long time until Eve and Hope were ready to start school.

"Mom wanted them to have a normal experience with other kids, but everyone agreed normal school was out of the question. And since nobody wanted them to stifle who they were Mom and Dad teamed up with my aunts and uncles and the only educator they actually knew. Within a year they opened the Mikaelson Boarding school.

"It grows every year, and my family takes turns funding. This year it's Uncle Elijah."

"That was pretty good."

"Jo still tells it better,” he shrugged. "Come on, I'll show you the classrooms."

++++

"Do you think my dad's mad?” Eve stared at her petri dish, mesmerized by a swirling path her stir stick created through the thick gel.

"No way," Hope tilted her own dish. scrutinizing the contents. “Uncle Kol yells when he's mad."

"He didn't yell when we caused that explosion and knocked a gaping hole in the kitchen wall,” she chewed her bottom lip. "Or that time I switched out spell ingredients without telling him and the table melted.” She hadn't known wood could react like that. "I don't think my dad's ever yelled at me – except for that time when I was crossing the street and a car came out of nowhere, but that was more a yelling at the driver thing."

"I don't think he's mad."

"He confined us to the school; we're effectively grounded."

"Well, you are,” she smirked. Her smile faltered when her phone buzzed. "And now I am too."

"Your dad?” She sat down her dish.

"And mom."

"So he's mad," Eve snatched up a scalpel. “Why else would our grounding have no end in sight?"

"Maybe...” Hope lowered her voice to a whisper. "He wanted us safe. The school has wards, and that ring... that ring shook him up.”

Hope unbuttoned her sleeve, rolling up her sweater and the white shirt to expose her wrist.

"And I know you don't want to admit it, but you're happy to be back here because what happened shook you."

"Alright everybody,” Elena clapped her hands for their attention, "pick up your scalpels and turn to your lab partner. Draw a shallow cut over their wrist then administer your gel; if you've done your job right then the wound will heal."

Hope hissed along with half the class when the blade was drawn over her skin.

"Do you think he told mom?” Eve dropped her scalpel and caught a dab of the gel, carefully wiping it over the cut.

"I think we'll know when he does." The gel cooled and her skin knit together underneath. "Confining us to school feels like half a punishment. Aunt Elena will have something more to add."

"What precisely will I be adding to Hope?"

The girls gasped, spinning on their stools to find Elena's sparkling eyes watching them.

"Nothing,” Eve's eyelids fluttered.

"You inherited your deceitful skills from me, Eve Freya Mikaelson,” she tilted her head. "I assume your father will have a fair bit to add to your 'nothing'."

Eve and Hope exchanged a look, knowing from experience that it was better to come clean; typically it knocked a week off the overall punishment.

"We snuck out last night,” she held her hands in her lap.

"I was restless..."

"And we knew Lafayette would be empty."

"Mom?"

"Are we in trouble?"

Elena stared at both of them, eyes flickering back and forth.

"Somebody could have been hurt."

Hope dropped her eyes.

"If you feel like that you should tell us; we can find a place for you to run where nobody will see. Don't listen to your cousin all the time; her impulsivity comes from her dad." Elena waited for them to nod and then held out her hands. "Cell phones."

"That's it?" Eve frowned, placing her phone in her hand.

"Of course not,” Elena smirked as the girls spun back around. She wrapped her arms around their shoulders and leaned forward to place her head between them. "You two are gonna come back here every day this week after dinner..."

"Mom, no; please?” Eve’s eyes widened. Her horror was reflected in Hope's gaze.

"And you're going to clean and reorganize the spell science cupboard."

"B-b-but...” Hope thought about the decade of disorder and various ingredients. "We came clean."

"That's why I'm not making you do the attic." Elena kissed their temples, humming softly. "I'm glad you're safe."

They shuddered as she left the table.

"Do you... uh...” Josie tiptoed up to their table. "still need a volunteer?" She held out a clean scalpel to Hope.

++++

The Tudor mansion sprawled out over lush green, popping out of the trees as if from nowhere. She stared at the towering structure and crossed her arms.

"Your friend seems to have done well for himself."

"I don't know about that,” Ariadne smirked. "He was buried alive in the sixteenth century."

Mary-Alice stiffened, whirling around to glare. Her fingers tugged at her sleeves, covering her exposed wrists.

"You said he disappeared."

"He did,” Ariadne skipped up the driveway and ran her finger over the hood of a blue Camaro. "He disappeared when he was desiccated and buried alive. Is he inside or on the property? Where do we start digging?"

“I gave you a location,” she pulled the map from her pocket, hating the way the trousers clung.

"Stop fidgeting? You look ridiculous.” She pulled out a small black box and surveyed the map, punching a few buttons.

"I feel like a whore in these clothes,” she fingered the denim. “Why couldn't I wear my own?"

"Because that monstrosity made you stick out like a sore thumb."

"But why must women in this century dress like prostitutes?" She sneered at Ariadne's blouse, revealing her collarbone and a hint of cleavage.

"Times are changing,” she crumpled the map. "Personally I find the lack of a corset freeing, and the twenty-first century has many marvels."

She started toward the house, following a blinking arrow on the black box’s screen.

++++

“Let me see if I've got this straight?" Lizzie passed off a glowing ball of swirling energy to her twin, “you thought sneaking out on a full moon. after an earthquake was a good idea?"

"Nobody was gonna be out there.” The ball grew, taking on a red tint.

"Keep the energy positive guys," MG frowned at the magic. "The book says it should stay blue."

"Someone could have been hurt,” Hope took the ball. The size and colour fluctuated as it passed between her hands. "I could have hurt someone."

"You didn't,” Eve groaned. The ball flared, resembling a supernova where it floated between her spread palms. "Don't doubt your control because you're bloody awesome. Mom just worries. Dad didn't say anything."

"Uncle Kol got distracted by how upset you were..."

"Uh... guys..." MG's voice wavered.

The spell fluctuated, further losing it's structural integrity.

" ... and that creepy guy who attacked you..."

"I had it handled!" Eve's heart hammered. Heat licked her fingers as anxiety fed the spell.

"That's why you spent an hour shaking and clinging to a werewolf," Hope drawled. "Uncle Kol didn't see it, but he could see that you were scared."

"I wasn't scared,” her voice cracked.

"You were,” Hope shoved her fingers through her hair. "That's the onl..."

The spell released, knocking four young witches flat. They groaned, sitting up on elbows.

"I really thought I'd be the one to screw that up,” Lizzie grumbled, flipping blonde hair from her face.

“Is everyone okay?" Josie got to her knees and cast her eyes around the yard. "MG?"

"I'm good,” his voice called out from a flower bed.

Eve surveyed the damage she could see - flattened grass, broken branches and a toppled fountain. She flopped back, covering her face with her hands.

"I think I'm a little shaken," she swallowed, listening to her heart race.

Hope shuffled closer and wrapped her arm around Eve's middle.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Eve closed her eyes, lowering her hands to her belly. She could see the way he had looked at her - feel the way he had touched her.

"He looked at me like I was some kind of prize, and not in a good way."

"There's a good way?" Josie stretched out on her other side.

"Yeah,” Eve sighed. "Like how my parents look at each other sometimes, or how Uncle Nik looks at your mom."

"Like they can't believe they got so lucky,'' MG sat above their joined heads.

"I want someone to look at me like that,” Lizzie sighed, stretching out next to Josie.

"Not the way this guy was,” Eve shuddered. "It was like..."

"Like he wanted to consume you," Hope finished. “Nobody's gonna hurt you, Evie."

"And anyone who tries has to go through all of us,” Lizzie swore.

"We got your back, E,” MG squeezed her shoulder.

"Thanks,” she smiled, sniffing. "So,” she smirked, “does that mean you're all gonna help us with the storage cupboard."

"Evie, we love you," Josie kissed her cheek, “but no.”

++++

"Okay,” Erik recapped, counting off on his fingers. "The dining hall, administration and library are on the ground floor. Second floor has your standard normal classes, and supernatural courses are divided between there and the top floor. There are a couple of hidden rooms Uncle Nik turned into study spaces. Do you want to see my favourite?”

++++

Elena flipped through lab book after lab book, rapidly checking off correct answers and making short notes in the margins. Everyone passed the lab portion of their pop quiz, but the theory required a little work.

Two weeks off for holidays and everyone seemed to have forgotten a semester's worth of teaching. She anticipated intense study sessions in preparation for exams.

January promised strung out teenagers.

Even Eve and Hope's reports lacked coherent thought.

She flipped over her phone, reading the incoming message.

Kol: Did you forget about me?

She smirked, tapping out a quick response as she stood and reached for her purse.

Elena: I'm not sure. Remind me who this is again.

Kol: I think you know.

Elena: oh?

Kol: Dashingly handsome. Exceedingly debonair...

Elena: is this the insanely conceited guy that sleeps next to me every night?

Kol: conceited?

Elena grinned, taking off at a run, slowing when she reached the alley and sauntering to the cafe.

"Conceited?" He cocked an eyebrow, lifting his chin for her kiss.

"You spent more time getting ready for the New year's party than I did,” she slipped into the seat across from him, "and Bekah dragged me off for manicures."

Her eyes narrowed when he didn't immediately quip back with how she agreed that he was ridiculously good looking.

"What's wrong? Is it the crypt?"

"No,” he reached into his jacket pocket. "I can handle my parents possibly being alive on the streets of New Orleans," he ignored her shocked expression. "I've accepted their hatred, and mother's inability to stay dead. This is what worries me."

A ring wobbled on the table.

"A daylight amulet?" She picked it up. "Why do I recognize it?”

“Eve took it off a vampire who attacked her this morning." He covered her hand before she could interrupt. “There is a very descent chance the dead are rising. And a man who hates us both targeted our child because that ring belonged to Stavros."

She felt her head shake, impossibility was the denial on her tongue, but she knew her husband. He would see her impossible and raise with their children. Loopholes existed in nature, exploited at every opportunity by anyone with the power; some would have done it just to prove they could.

Sad to say, not every witch respected the natural world they were sworn to protect.

Their waitress walked up, thrusting her hips forward as she stopped at the table and batted her eyes.

"What can I get'cha, suga?” She flashed a bright grin at Kol.

He knew Elena was lost in thought when she made no comment on the girl's obvious flirtation. He was in no mood to torment her, or deal with Anna's inconsiderate nature.

"I'll have the eggs Benedict and coffee,” he examined the furrow between her brows and decided on her 'thinking food'. "Stuffed french toast and hot chocolate for my wife." He emphasized the last word, giving Anna a pointed look.

She clicked her pen closed and whirled toward the kitchen.

"How?” Elena closed her hand around the ring.

"After eighteen years I know you're favourite foods," he chuckled.

"Kol,” she sighed.

"Bad - if accurate - attempt at easing your nerves,” he rubbed her sensitive wrist, sobering fast. "Something happened during the blood moon, and I... I think the earthquake and... everything... may have been nature's way of fighting back.”

“Against the dead rising?” A chill swathed over her jiggling leg. “Did you see Stavros?” Warm metal cut into her palm.

“No, darling.”

“Then maybe you’re wrong,” she rubbed her lips together. “Maybe it was the Harvest girls screwing up a spell, or arguing over something trivial, and,” she raised a brow when she saw the flash of emotion in his eyes, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m so sorry, love.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, but the Harvest Girls are dead. Only Davina survived.”

Sorrow, she decided; it was sorrow in his gaze. Or perhaps she was seeing a reflection of her eyes in his.

“What happened?”

“A vampire.”

“I want him found,” she spat. Pure, unadulterated rage raced through her veins.

“While I share your sentiment it wasn’t him,” he ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Davina said it was a woman, and that she was talking nonsense about fire and magic; she never saw her face.”

“Then I want both of them found.” Two spots of colour appeared high on her cheeks.

“I already tried to find Stavros,” he let go of her hand, leaning back as their food arrived. “There’s no sign of him.”

“Then maybe you are wrong.” Elena picked up her mug and took a sip of rich hot chocolate. A dollop of whipped cream stuck to her nose.

“Or a witch is helping him,” he swiped his thumb over her nose and sucked the whipped cream off. “Personally I’m hoping I’m wrong, since being right opens a door I’d rather not look through. Do you know how many people I’ve pissed off in the past millennia?”

“No idea,” she shook her head. Her fork stabbed her French toast. Fruit oozed out.

“Too many to count,” he reached for his coffee.

“Right or wrong,” she lifted her fork, “I want that woman put down and that man found so I can tear out his internal organs.”

Her eyes narrowed when he smirked.

“What?” She mumbled around a mouthful of French toast.

He grinned, nudging her foot under the table. “I love you."

++++

“I assume he’s looked better,” Mary Alice grimaced. She leaned over the open lid of the pine box and traced the vampire’s desiccated remains with the tip of her finger.

“He’ll look much better in a minute,” Ariadne grinned. Madness gleamed in her eyes.

Mary Alice’s finger twitched, raising up in warning.

“Relax honey,” she twirled around the box, gracefully pirouetting towards her dropped bag. “I brought some blood. Can’t have him accidentally killing you now, can I? Who would finish the ring?”

She moved backwards, standing against the rough wall with a stiff spine.

Ariadne opened the blood bag and pressed the tube against his lips, squeezing a few drops into his dry mouth. Slowly the bag emptied and colour returned to his sallow cheeks.

His brow crinkled and he opened his eyes, blearily focusing on her grinning face.

“Ariadne?” He croaked, reaching for the edge of his coffin.

“Hello, darling,” she tossed the empty blood bag over her shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

“You…” he broke off in a fit of coughs, lurching upright.

“Let me finish that thought for you,” she reached for a second bag of blood, opening it for him, “ravishing creature.”

He tore into the bag of blood, sucking it down fast. A healthy glow returned to his skin. “I was actually going to call you a bitch.”

“That’s no way to talk to the girl getting you a daylight ring,” she pouted. Her eyes sparkled.

“You,” he fought down a sardonic laugh as he climbed to his feet, “want to grant me a daylight ring?”

“I even brought a witch,” Ariadne perched on the edge of his coffin. “Mary Alice spelled the talisman for you.” As she spoke she toyed with her own amulet.

Mary Alice pulled a silver ring from her pocket. The large blue stone glinted in the dim light, reflecting in his wide eyes.

“You never do anything without expecting something in return,” he jumped out of the coffin, eager to be rid of it. “What do you want?”

“It’s quite simple,” Mary Alice spun the ring around her finger.

“All you have to do is seduce a pretty little thing and get her to show you mommy dearest’s grimoire,” she picked at a splinter in the wood.

“Get the girl to take out a thin silver dagger her mother sealed away,” Mary Alice tilted her head, “and bring it to me.”

“And you expect me to do all of this under the cover of night?” He turned his head, eyeing them both.

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Alice tossed him the ring. “You’ll use that.”

“What’s to stop me taking this and running?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“The spell is temporary,” she resisted the urge to tug at her clothes. “I’ll make it permanent when you deliver your end; you have a week to get the doppelgänger’s dagger.”

“One week?”

“Don’t act so scandalized,” Ariadne waved one hand. “You always were a charmer and she is a naive girl. It’ll be a piece of cake. Now what do you say to me?” She sang, leaning forwards.

“Thank you?” He slipped the ring onto his finger.

“You…” Ariadne prompted, twirling a splinter between her fingers.

“Thank you Ariadne,” he rolled his eyes, “you ravishing creature.”

“Much better.”

++++

Hope towelled the worst of the water from her hair and dropped to sit cross legged on her bed, bouncing on the springs. She could still remember the first time she had slept at the school; it had taken a fair amount of convincing since someone always traveled from the compound to the campus every morning.

“Please don’t start jumping on the bed,” Eve flipped over a page and laid her hand on a sheet of paper.

“Do you remember when we were little,” Hope waved her hand, levitating her towel to its hook, “the first night we stayed in this room?”

“How can I forget?” She snickered, tapping the page. “You knocked me off the bed with a pillow. That was the first time I ever broke a bone.”

“You insta-healed,” she leaned back on her bed. “And what’s the fun of jumping up and down on the bed if you don’t whack each other around?”

“No fun at all.”

“Our parents were so mad,” Hope hugged a pillow to her stomach and reached for her brush.

“I remember mom crying,” Eve tilted head, seeing the scene as if it were happening. Her arm had healed at the wrong angle. “I think re-breaking it hurt her and dad more than it hurt me. Do you know that’s the only time I ever saw my dad cry?”

“Uncle Kol cried?” Hope winced and worked the brush through a series of knots.

“Yeah,” she pursed her lips. “Why are we talking about our first night here?”

“Because you’re flipping through that book.”

“It calms me,” Eve fingered another page. With each new page she catalogued the contents, feeling the various forms of energy rise up through her arm.

“You might be the only person alive to find dark objects calming,” she rolled her eyes.

“They’re not calming, Hope,” Eve flipped another page, tracing an eight pointed star with her fingertip. “They’re anxiety inducing, but knowing that the dark magic is stuck where nobody can ever use it is calming.” She flipped the page again. “And sometimes the light objects are fun to take out and handle.”

“Is it working at least?” Hope tossed her brush aside. “Is your stolen property succeeding in calming you?”

“No, and neither did your nostalgia trip,” she smirked.

“I see,” she hummed, “I guess I’ll just have to resort to drastic measures.”

“Dr…” Eve broke off in a shriek, throwing her hands up as the pillow smacked her in the face. She sputtered, twisting her neck around to stare at her cousin. A beat of silence passed before a wicked twinkle entered her eyes. “Are you serious right now?”

Hope smirked, flashing white teeth.

“Oh…” Eve’s tongue poked out as she grinned, reaching for one of her pillows. “It’s on.”

++++

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Elena kicked the table, sending candles skittering across the floor.

“What about the Tibetan bowl?” Kol stomped on the edge of a curtain, smothering the flames before they could overtake the fabric.

“Two Original hybrids,” she stared out the window, watching the moon rise up, “and an ancient bowl is going to help?”

“Can’t hurt,” he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What witch has enough power to block both of us together?” She laid her head back on his chest.

“A coven of them,” he closed his eyes, lowering his nose to her neck.

“Or maybe,” Klaus’ voice drew their attention from the window, “you can’t track the dead.”

“Now you’re on board with the dead theory?” Elena groaned, slumping in her husband’s hold. “I thought you were more sceptical than that. Your parents can’t exactly be considered the norm.”

“She has a point, Nik,” he sighed. “I didn’t actually see anyone dead, so the theory is unconfirmed.”

“Not anymore,” Klaus nodded his chin back towards the hall. “Confirmation has come to us.”

“What?” He lifted an eyebrow, adjusting his hold on her as she shifted.

“Elena has a visitor.”

The couple exchanged a look loaded with wary confusion before following Klaus out of the study.

“Who is it?” She slotted her fingers between Kol’s and squeezed, but Klaus didn’t get a chance to answer before they entered the living room. Her eyes snapped to the man by the fireplace and narrowed. “How does Stefan confirm anything?”

“You wanted something confirmed?” Stefan straightened up.

“Stefan is not the confirmation, right ripper?” Klaus smirked, dimples flashing. He circled around a leather couch, nodding to the person sitting there.

The woman placed one hand on the arm and rose, spinning around to face them. A bright smile lit up her round face as she squealed and raced to wrap Elena in a tight hug.

Her hands came up on instinct, wrapping around her back even as her spine stiffened.

“Lexi?” She breathed, dazed as the vampire let her go.

“Yeah,” she nodded fast, “I’m sorry. I know we were never that close.”

“It’s not that.” She shook her head.

“It’s what your presence implies, love,” Kol placed a hand on the small of Elena’s back, rubbing circles over her spine.

“I’m not entirely sure what that means,” Lexi took a step back. She tilted her head, looking him up and down slowly. “Are you the vampire that turned Damon’s bones to dust?”

“I suppose I did do that,” his jaw clicked. “He had it coming.”

“No defence needed,” Lexi laughed, holding her hands palms out. “Damon always deserves an ass-kicking. And after what I heard you did, I think I might love you.”

Elena stepped into his side and placed a hand on his chest. She smiled, voice filled with laughter and a slight edge.

“Move on fast, sweetie. He’s taken.”

“By a very jealous woman,” Kol tipped his chin down and gave her hand a pointed look. “What are you doing here Lexi? Aside from resurrecting, I mean.”

“Stefan got it in his head that you two could make her a daylight ring.”

Kol whipped his head around, glaring daggers at the man as he stepped into the living room through an opposite door.

“You!” He snarled.

Elena’s possessive hand turned into a restraining one, halting her husband’s sudden march.

Elena strained against Kol while Damon took a hurried step backwards.

The retreat stopped when Damon dropped to his knees and gripped his head. He grunted. Blood vessels burst in his eyes.

“Kol!” Elena spun in front of him, cutting off his sight line. Behind her Damon’s pained grunts cut off. “What have I said about hurting my friends unprovoked?”

“He draws breath in my presence,” his glared burned over the top of her head. He had never forgiven Damon for his attempt to steal Elena away, or his implication that their unborn daughter was something to fix. “That’s provocation enough.”

“Are you gonna beat the shit out of him?” Lexi stepped aside with a giant grin, perching on the sofa’s arm. “Maybe finish what I started earlier?”

“Lexi!” Elena scolded. “Why are you provoking him?”

“I wanna see Damon get pummelled,” she shrugged. “He did kill me.”

“His existence is provocation enough.” Elena’s head snapped around to Klaus’ snickers.

“I’ve had that thought,” Stefan covered his laugh by lowering his eyes and clearing his throat.

“You two are not helping,” she groaned.

“What the hell did I do to tick you off?” Damon stopped in his tracks. Righteous indignation squared his shoulders.

Elena felt a strong desire to sob her frustration.

“Weren’t you listening mate?” Kol placed his hands on Elena’s shoulders, lifting her off her feet and setting her at his side. “You’re still breathing.”

“Breathing?” Damon scoffed. He threw up his hands, taking a foolish step forward. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You haven’t done anything?” Kol’s voice rose to a mocking falsetto. Only Elena’s hand on his elbow held him back. “You were going to help my mother kill every vampire on earth,” fire flashed in his eyes.

“To be fair,” Stefan gripped his brother’s jacket, holding him back, “I did that too.”

“You came around and helped,” Kol snapped. “He upset my wife time and time again, tried to steal her away and made a rather daring implication about my daughter. Not to mention nearly burning my brother alive.” He observed Damon critically and sneered. “I think I’ll feed you your own liver.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Damon smirked. “Didn’t you hit the reset button when Elena turned you?”

“Do you have a death wish?” Stefan sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sensing a tension headache coming on.

“I can take him,” he tried to break Stefan’s hold. “That was all circumstantial.”

“What about what you did to Caroline?” Stefan muttered, but failed to keep his voice low enough.

“What the bloody hell did he do to Caroline?” Klaus’ eyes flashed gold.

Shit, Stefan flinched.

Elena shut her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Klaus repeated his question, louder as he took a menacing step. Black veins spidered across his cheekbones.

“Only Damon and Caroline know exactly what happened.” Stefan cleared his throat, hoping to save Damon Klaus’ wrath. He might have held his own against Kol for a few minutes, but Klaus would tear Damon apart and no amount of Elena’s pleading would stop him; Caroline might have been able to do it, but he doubted she would have even if she were present.

With any luck he would have Damon far, far away before Klaus got Caroline to talk.

“I just had a little fun with her while she was human,” Damon shrugged. He glanced at Klaus, but the majority of his attention was stuck on Kol.

“Fun?” Klaus growled. His foot came down hard, cracking the floorboard as he stepped forward.

Damon seemed to sense the sudden shift and pivoted, keeping both brothers in his sight line. He bent his knees and readied to fight back, but he never got the chance.

His saving grace appeared in a flurry of white gold hair and grey cashmere.

Rebekah stood in front of Klaus, keeping her hands on his chest as she surveyed the room. A swell of testosterone shimmered in the air. Her eyes flickered over the tight cords of muscle in her brothers’ necks before darting to Freya.

“We’re gone for half a day and you’ve turned the living room into a bloody boxing ring?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Bex,” Kol glared at Damon. “Boxers are shirtless. Do you see any shirts missing?”

Unbidden an image of her shirtless husband with beads of blood dripping down his chest swam through her mind. She poked her extended canine, imagining licking the red from the grooves in his abdomen.

Shirtless, she decided, would make the whole ordeal much more interesting. She might even get on board with a little beating if it meant she could watch the shift of his muscles under sweat slick skin.

“Where have you two been?” Klaus took a series of shallow breaths, forcing his features back to something resembling human.

“We have been busy.” Freya moved into the middle of the room, hoping her presence would at least deter her brothers from racing into a fight. “Keeping our ears to the ground.”

“And we have bigger issues right now than whatever this is,” Rebekah waved one hand.

Elena swallowed her disappointment, but then thought of the store of blood bags. A little AB positive would be tastier than Damon; it wouldn’t be the first time she had done something like that.

“What’s the problem, Bekah?” She loosened her grip on Kol’s arm, sliding her hand down to his wrist.

“I compelled a few locals who live near the cemetery, pushed some images into their minds, and you’ll never guess what I found out.”

“I think they will,” Freya rolled her eyes.

“Mother and father were both seen leaving the cemetery in the early hours of the morning. No idea where they went, but they’re most definitely alive.”

“Of course they are,” Klaus felt fury race through his veins. “Three guesses why they’ve come back.”

“We don’t need three guess, Nik,” Rebekah rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious. The Original Bitch is fresh out of the grave and looking for ways to kill us all along with daddy dearest. Say what you want about our parents, but when they set a goal they do everything to reach it.”

“And they’re together again?” Kol twisted his wrist, catching her hand. “United in their desire to end their children.” He hummed, tilting his head. “How romantic. I don’t think we can compete with that, darling.”

“Shut up, Kol!” Elena glared, lightly smacking his arm.

“I love it when you order me about,” he winked.

Her flush and Rebekah’s subsequent groan brought a smirk to his lips.

@klaroline-events @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @elejahforever@elejah-wonderland @cry-btch@geekofmanyfandoms@morsmornte @xanderling @iw1shiknew

#kol mikaelson #Elena gilbert #kolena #Klaus mikaelson #freya mikaelson #Rebekah mikaelson #The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising #fanfic #Alaric saltzman #au

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daringyounggrayson · 4 years

Text

the times they are a-changin’

Written for @trichoglossus, merry Christmas Kes!!

Okay, so let me just set the scene: this fic takes place during the first Christmas after Jason died, Tim is training to be Robin but not living with Bruce, and Wally’s in college. I think that’s it? So yeah, enjoy the fic!

(AO3)

“You should’ve called,” Wally says (again). “You could’ve spent Christmas with me; my family would’ve loved to see you.”

“I didn’t want to take over your Christmas,” Dick says (again). “And it was fine. I caught up on sleep, ate some Chinese, and watched an animal doc. I had a great Christmas. Really.” Well, maybe not great. There was plenty of moping and self-pity and wondering how his life had gone to shit sprinkled between those other activities.

Today was better.

“You still shouldn’t have had to spend Christmas alone just because Bruce decided to be an ass.” Dick laughs. “He is! But he still could’ve made an effort. I mean, who can’t put off fighting with their kid for one day?”

Dick sighs, sobering. “It’s a little more complicated than that.” Fights with Bruce always were. Dick says stupid shit and takes things too far, and Bruce. Bruce is an ass. But he’s also grieving, and Dick should’ve known better than to bring up Jason.

“I think my point stands,” Wally scoffs. He’s always been the first to defend Dick, even when he doesn’t deserve it. “Besides, did I mention that it was Christmas?”

“You did. Several times. But to be fair, Bruce has never really been that into Christmas,” Dick points out. And not that Dick is obsessed with the holiday or anything, but there are parts he likes. Used to like. God, how things have changed. “It wouldn’t be shocking if he forgot why I went over there in the first place.” Lies.

“Whatever. I’m heading over in a bit and we can have Christmas 2, so prepare yourself to get festive.”

“Okay.” Dick looks around his apartment. It’s a mess and there aren’t any decorations up. Not that Wally will mind, Wally’s very good at not minding things like that. Still, he should turn on the lights or open the blinds at least. Wally always gets this sad, concerned look on his face when he realizes Dick has just been shuffling around in the dark. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe.” And Wally hangs up.

Dick puts his phone back in his pocket and opens the blinds in the living room. He looks around and gathers up the dirty dishes from the past few days and dumps them in the sink, then he collects the empty takeout containers from yesterday and throws them out. He also grabs the throw blanket off of the floor and drapes it over the back of the couch. Finally, Dick goes to the hall closet and pulls out two boxes: one a standard, pre-wrapped box with a bow on top and the other a small, thin box that he wrapped himself. He pockets the smaller box and places the larger one on the newly-cleared coffee table.

Festive—check.

A knock on the door tells him Wally’s here and he feels a smile tug at his lips.

Dick unlocks the door and pulls it open. Wally’s standing there with a box of his own, a paper bag, and a backpack slung loosely over one shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” Wally greets, kissing Dick for good measure.

When their lips part, Dick gestures for Wally to step inside and offers his own, “Merry Christmas.”

Wally takes off his outerwear and then sets his gift on the table next to Dick’s. He holds up the bag for Dick to see. “Aunt Iris sent me home with a ton of leftovers, so we have a bit of a feast.”

Dick grins. “Awesome.”

“You got your oven fixed, right?” Wally asks, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Uh-huh. A few weeks ago. You can now turn it on without setting off the fire alarm,” Dick says proudly. “But we can just microwave it; it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, you poor confused child,” Wally sighs. “Leftovers get the deluxe treatment on Christmas 2.” Then Wally mutters in mock disbelief, “Microwave, honestly.”

Dick holds back a laugh. “Sorry, I have no idea what I was thinking.”

“Clearly.”

The two of them work together to figure out how long everything will need to be reheated and plan it so that everything finishes at the same time. Dick’s apartment doesn’t have a dining room, let alone a table to go in one, so they set up their dinner on the kitchen counter, eating it next to each other on stools. It’s delicious, and Wally made a good call by turning down Dick’s microwave suggestion. Still, it reminds Dick of what he missed out on yesterday.

(But it’s not the food really, it’s the family that he would’ve eaten it with.)

With Wally there, they manage to eat all of the leftovers. Wally puts on some Christmas music while they load the dishwasher and clean the pots and pans that aren’t dishwasher safe. It’s funny—little moments like this, but not romantic outings or anniversaries, always make Dick think about how nice it will be to settle down with Wally in a few years. Dick has found plenty of unpleasantries in the adult world, but that is one aspect that he’s still looking forward to.

“What are you planning on doing for New Year’s?” Wally asks, drying off the last pan. “You know, with recent events and all.”

Dick shrugs, taking the pan and putting it back in the cabinet. “I’ll probably still go to the New Year’s party Bruce got roped into hosting. Bruce should be cooled down by then, and if not, he’s in public so he has to pretend to be for appearances. Plus, Babs and Tim will be there, so I won’t be completely alone even if Bruce does decide to avoid me all night. Why?”

“I was just going to say that I talked to Aunt Iris and she said that she’s more than happy to have you over. M’gann is also doing her New Year’s thing with the Team,” Wally reminds him. “Basically, if you decide not to go to Gotham, you have other options. I get sad thinking about you sitting here, all by yourself with the lights off. Especially on a holiday.”

Damn it. “It’s okay, really. And I’m not going to be alone, but thank your aunt for the invitation. Maybe next year.”

“Sure,” Wally says, smiling softly.

“You could still come to the Wayne party for a little bit. It starts at eight.”

“Will I have to rent a tux?” Wally asks.

“Uh-huh, but I can pay for it.”

“I’ll still have to wear it, though.”

“That is usually how it works, yeah.” Dick lets his fingers twirl around Wally’s hair for a second. “I’ll be there. And so will trays and trays of finger foods.”

Wally grabs Dick’s waist and pulls him close. “I do love fancy finger food.”

Dick closes the gap with a quick kiss. “No pressure, just think about it. I’m thinking of spending a few days there if Alfred isn’t too mad at me for ditching Christmas.”

“That’ll be good for you.”

Dick lays his head on Wally’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

Wally nods. “When you and Bruce aren’t at each other’s throats, you always seem lighter after a visit. And you’re always lighter after you talk with Alfred.”

Wally clearly has not been around to see Dick after Alfred’s just reprimanded him, but Dick gets his point anyway.

“Just don’t let this fight between you and Bruce fester. It’s not good for either of you,” Wally tells him.

Dick sighs and pulls away. Wally doesn’t even know what the fight was about; Dick hasn’t shared any of the details and he’s not going to. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“And I’m not asking you to.” Wally places his hands on Dick’s shoulders and looks at him seriously. “I’m just saying—and look, I’m not defending him at all, you know that—you’ve both had a hard year. You two understand each other in a way no one else can, and I think you need each other to get through this. There’s no reason to make it harder on yourself.”

Wally doesn’t say you’ve been known to do stupid stuff after fights, he doesn’t say I don’t want you to get hurt doing something stupid, he doesn’t say I know you’ve been depressed and I don’t want to lose you.

Dick nods. “You’re right. We’ll work things out.” Wally has always been good at making convincing speeches.

Wally smiles at him.

“So. Any family drama you wanna share?”

“Time for presents?”

oOo

“I have another one for you,” Dick tells Wally. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small wrapped box, handing it to Wally.

Wally takes it and tears the paper off. Lifting the lid, he finds one small, metallic object: a key. He picks it up with a smile on his face and turns to Dick.

“I know most people in our business don’t exactly need keys, but—” Dick shrugs.

Wally cups Dick’s face and kisses him. “I love it. It’s very sweet.”

Dick continues, clarifying, “I’m not asking you to move in—I know we’ve talked about it before, and when we’re both ready to be long-term housemates, we’ll pick a place together. Think of this as a kind of stepping stone.”

A stepping stone because as much as Dick wants to live with Wally at some point, he doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that—neither of them are, honestly. But a first step? Wally leaving a toothbrush and some clothes here? He can do that, is thrilled to do that if Wally is willing.

“It’s a great idea,” Wally says, and there’s this sweet emotion behind it that Dick can’t get enough of. “One second.” He stands up and zips to the front door, returning with his keys. Dick watches as Wally works the new key onto the keychain. “How does it look?”

Right. “Definitely one of my top five keychains.”

“Shut up.” But Wally’s smile doesn’t drop and his eyes are still sparkling. He puts the keys away and then he’s back, glued to Dick’s side. Just as he should be.

“So. What else do you do on Christmas 2?”

“Hmm . . . we could watch Home Alone while I beat your ass at Parcheesi?”

And doesn’t that make Dick feel nostalgic? For much of their youth, they spent winter break together, sledding and, of course, watching movies while playing the various board games stashed around the manor. God, how things have changed. But not all for the worse, Dick is starting to realize.

“I’d love to make you eat those words, but I don’t think I have any board games, actually. I have a deck of cards somewhere though. We could play Rummy?” Dick suggests instead.

“You’re on.”

They put the movie on and start out sitting across from each other, Dick’s feet quickly finding their way into Wally’s lap. An hour in, though, round two of Rummy is forgotten on the coffee table and the movie plays to sleeping viewers. Dick and Wally have wormed their way next to each on the couch, Dick’s throw pulled over the two of them. Dick hasn’t felt this peaceful in a long time. This right.

Yes, good changes indeed.

#birdflash #dick grayson #wally west #nightwing #flash #young justice #elizabeth writes

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sworn-unbeliever · 4 years

Photo

12 - Tooth and Nail

wc: 1,371

Leviathan appeared from out of nowhere.

A simple ship ride between Kugane and Limsa Lominsa had gone all too swimmingly. Any road to a greater destiny had to have some bumps on the road. What better path to have the Itsubishi family’s supposedly improved financial success than to have the Lord of the Whorl himself test their resolve? While Useless Tia lived up to his name and vanished without a trace, everyone else donned their arms and prepared for battle. Aunt Jocelyn and her gunblade. Mother Yoshiko and her fists. Younger brother Jeremy with his chakrams. And elder brother Teremy with his knives. Punching. Cutting. Slashing. Fire. Water. Lightning. All remaining on deck defended against Leviathan and his minions with their lives.

But none so much as the moment Teremy looked back to see Leviathan dive down directly towards Jeremy. The serpent’s mouth opened, ready to swallow up the younger brother in one single gulp.

“Jer, watch out!” Teremy cried at the same time he dashed forward. His body moved purely on instinct and shoved Jeremy out of the way.

Then darkness. Leviathan’s jaws snapped shut, taking Teremy inside. Whole.

After that, Teremy had no idea what happened as his body reacted before his mind caught up to speed. The miqo’te felt Leviathan descend and found his body sliding away. His twin cinquedea stabbed the closest thing they could latch onto. Sharp metal sank through flesh and pierced what felt like bone. And from there, Teremy’s ears nearly shattered from a deafening roar that shoved him back into his knives.

His ears rang. The stench made him want to throw up. But he clenched his mouth shut and clung onto the handles of his short swords. He had no thought. He had no plan. Just clenched hands, clenched teeth, and a clenched will to survive.

Suddenly, the Lord of the Whorl shot straight up. Teremy felt himself slipping back down, but he tightened his grip. No way did he want to slide further down the serpent’s body. He never wanted to descend to that kind of hell. Another dive down and Leviathan opened his mouth again, not as an opportunity for his very unwelcome guest to leave, but to have water shoot inside. A tidal wave of water threatened to shove him down further. Teremy clamped his eyes and mouth shut. He felt his grip slipping. Again, the miqo’te held steady. Up again. Then down again. Another roar. But Teremy clung to the handles of his twin blades to the point he felt his hands begin to indent in the metal. He couldn’t die. He had to live. He had pushed his brother out of his way to live… so they could live together. Not trade one brother for the other.

Finally, one last rush upwards and Leviathan opened his mouth again. Teremy swung back and forth as the serpent shook its head. One last desperate toss and Teremy’s cinquedea finally loosened its hold on bone and flesh. Teremy went sailing into the air, still holding his short swords like his last lifeline.

‘I am but the hummingbird. I spread my tiny wings and fly away,’ he thought as he sailed up, then down. With no idea what laid underneath except water, he changed trajectory in midair to move his body into a vertical position before his body dove into the water.

Thank Aunt Jocelyn, who had the foresight to teach the brothers useful life tricks like swimming.

Once Teremy fell as deep as his momentum carried him, he swam back up as fast as he could. His head pushed above the water first. He took a deep breath, then exhaled.

He was alive. Somehow, still alive.

Gently kicking his feet to keep himself afloat, he wiped the water away from his eyes with a few extended fingers, and looked over in the distance. He still held his cinquedea at ready in case Leviathan wanted round too. To Teremy’s surprise, he saw the King of the Whorl’s distinct figure swim away in the distance. A shattered, abandoned rowboat became the last known proof of Leviathan’s existence.

Teremy put his cinquedea away and tried to swim after Leviathan, but the struggle to keep himself alive inside Leviathan’s jaws had taken away all the energy he had. Or his adrenaline fervor had subsided. Or both. His body refused to move and Teremy soon found himself lying on his back, his arms spread out, staring at a starry sky.

Bump.

A wooden plank gently knocked him on the head. He forced his body to turn around and take refuge on part of the wood. Somehow said wood acted as a life preserver, allowing him to lean his weight on it safely. Now the rest of his energy left him. And the only glimpse of said starry sky he had left was a shimmering reflection in the water. So much for impromptu sightseeing after a life or death chase. But at least he wouldn’t eventually sink into the water.

Hopefully.

‘Where am I? … Shit, Levi ain’t coming back for round two, is he? My parents, my aunt, Jer, they’re still on there…!’

He saw no sign of Leviathan. But he saw no sign of the boat either.

‘People do good, they do a solid. Me, I did a liquid. Headline: I’m in it now. Hah.’ Teremy thought bitterly.

His eyelids felt heavy. Teremy closed them. Then opened them. No, he had to stay awake. No telling if he fell asleep, he would surely drown.

‘Did I do the right thing? Did I save Jer? Or did I make even more trouble for everyone…’

Nothing but gentle waves brushing against the wood plank answered him.

‘At least… should I die at sea, I’ll go out knowing that at least Jer’s alive.’

He closed his eyes.

Plish. Plash.

He opened his eyes again.

‘The sea is so vast. A hidden world underneath. But above the surface, all anyone can see is more of the same, hoping to find the something else that may not even be there. Do they ever look up to see the stars? Their wisdom? Their guidance? If you can hear me, guide my family to Limsa Lominsa safely.’

He closed his eyes.

* * *

“Stay with us, lad!” cried an unfamiliar voice.

Teremy felt a sense of danger and grabbed onto something. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he had latched onto the wrist of a rogedayn. He saw the sailor’s surprised expression and released his hold.

“Quite the grip you got there. Thought ye’d take my hand off fer a second there.” The roegadyn wrung his hand. “That any way to thank your rescuers?”

Teremy opened his mouth to speak but only unintelligible gargle spat out.

“Anyway, we happened t’find ye driftin’ out like all that other flotsam. Didn’t think ye’d wanna spend t’rest of yer life out at sea.”

Sputtering a few more times, Teremy finally found the words to speak. “Thank you,” he said slowly.

Talking had always been more of his brother’s forte. Teremy’s piano… in more ways than one. But right now, Teremy only had words. Thankfully the roegadyn’s face softened with said word.

Teremy sat up straight. He rubbed his eyes, noticing that he now wore some hempen-spun attire rather than his own wet robes. His previous garments fell on top of his head before he had a chance to ask. He looked around. The area looked unlike Kugane, but unlike anything he imagined Limsa Lominsa to look like, either. Instead, a scorching hot sun bared down heat upon brown and beige stone of building and ground alike.

“Where is this place?” Teremy asked.

“Ye from across the continent or somethin’? Ain’t often to hear a miqo’te speak with a Hingan accent.” the fisherman asked. “No matter. This place be Vesper Bay, part of the region of Thanalan.”

“Thanalan…” Teremy repeated.

Lady Luck had sent sailors to bail him out of his own stupidity. As thanks, rather than send him north, she sent him south for a laugh.

‘Thanks, Lady Luck. Not to sound ungrateful for saving my life or anything, but... what the fuck?’

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2020

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rt8815 · 4 years

Text

Christmas 2020

This fills the “Fix a plothole” square on my CM Bingo card.

Again, no clever title

WC: 2,100

The first scene is mostly unnecessary, but ask me if I care. Spoiler alert: I don’t!

I couldn’t find a picture or GIF that fits, but this one is cute.

Out of all the reindeers, you know you’re the mastermind

Run, run Rudolph, Randolph ain’t too far behind

Run, run Rudolph, Santa’s gotta make it to town

Santa make him hurry, tell him he can take the freeway down

Run, run Rudolph, ‘cause I’m reelin’ like a merry-go-round

McKinley sang along with Chuck Berry, pulling cookies from the oven.

“What would you like for your first Christmas, my littlest love?” she asked Sophie.

The five month old babbled at her mother, shaking her arms. If she weren’t too young for it, McKinley would’ve sworn she was dancing to the music.

“You’ll want for nothing, certainly! Aunt Penny alone will spoil you rotten, but that’s her job as your fairy godmother, I suppose.”

She smiled wistfully at the memory of Sophie’s birth, how Penny’s godmother-hood was assumed from the moment they announced Baby Reid’s impending arrival, and how utterly mortified Penny had been to learn, birth center bedside, that she would be co-godparenting with Luke.

McKinley considered him as her brother as much as she considered Penny to be her sister. Not only had the four hung out together from the start, Luke had also looked after her the month she and Spencer weren’t speaking to each other, and he was instrumental in getting them back together.

How do you not make such a man your child’s godfather?

Sophie began fussing to be nursed, so McKinley scooped her out of the highchair and carried her to the couch.

Buzz-buzz

A text came from Spencer, asking if she was free for a video chat. Once she powered up her laptop, she sent a quick ‘Yep.’

His face appeared, the picture slightly wobbly until he situated his phone on the kickstand.

“Hey there! How are my two favorite ladies?”

“We’re great,” she replied, turning Sophie in her lap to face the camera. Securing her with one hand on her torso, McKinley gently grasped Sophie’s arm to kiss her hand and wave it at Spencer.

“Who’s that, Sophie? Who’s that handsome devil?”

“Stop,” he mumbled, blushing at her suggestive tone.

“What?” she continued, ignoring his hands slashing across his neck. “You’re gorgeous...irresistible...delectable.”

Spencer’s face graduated to an even deeper pink. “Anyway, takeoff is in 20 minutes and I wanted to see you both before switching to airplane mode.”

“You’re on the jet?” she asked flatly. “Oh God, everyone heard that, didn’t they?”

“Hey, Twist ‘n’ Shout,” Luke winked as he slipped past Spencer to the bathroom.

McKinley facepalmed.

“I tried to warn you.”

“Hush.”

Spencer chuckled. “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

“Yep,” she replied, grateful for the change of subject. “Just a few dishes left to cook in the morning. Y’all bringing your sides?”

“On it.”

“My pie ingredients are ready and waiting.”

“I’m baking my casserole tonight.”

McKinley sighed in relief. She and Spencer offered to host the family Christmas dinner this year, since Rossi had left to spend the holidays with Joy and Kai. It didn’t make the most sense because their house was rather small, but everyone got on board regardless. The others contributing to the meal eased her anxiety a bit.

They chatted a while longer, and everyone took turns fawning over Sophie, who really started demanding lunch.

“Guess I better go,” McKinley sighed.

Spencer nodded, blowing kisses to his girls.

“See you in a few hours. Love you.”

“We love you too. Say ‘Bye-bye, Daddy.’”

Sophie gurgled as the video chat ended.

…

The tree was lit, the house all decorated, and the smell of roasted meats and vegetables permeated the air.

Spencer eyed the mini doughnuts McKinley made just for him.

She nudged his hip. “Don’t you dare!”

“Awww.”

“Go on then, man-child,” she rolled her eyes. “It is the holidays, I suppose.”

His pout slid into a smirk, tongue darting between his lips. “Actually, I think I’ll wait for dessert until tonight.”

“Spencer, there’s a child present.”

Sophie gazed at them, absentmindedly gnawing on a teething ring.

Ding-dong!

“That’ll be Penny. I hope I did a good job on these vegetarian dishes!”

“I’m sure they’re delicious,” he said reassuringly as he walked to the door.

Penelope hobbled in, laden with gift bags and all decked out in her Christmas best.

She deposited the gifts under the tree, then gave Boogie a quick pat on her way to McKinley.

“Gimme gimme gimme,” Penny ordered, making grabby hands at Sophie.

“Hello, angel,” she cooed. “You know you’re not getting her back until bedtime, right?” Penny informed the couple as she left faint lipstick prints on Sophie’s cheeks and forehead.

“You know that means you’ll be changing any diapers, right?” Spencer replied.

“Small price to pay.”

Everyone trickled in over the next hour, Luke being the last. Penny handed over Sophie with only slight reluctance, perhaps because he seemed to be in a sour mood.

His scowl dissolved when he held Sophie, breaking into a joyful grin.

“¡Feliz Navidad! ¿Cómo estás, Nena?”

She settled in her uncle’s arms, squeaking happily when he nuzzled her fine, curly hair and kissed her temple.

“Is Lisa driving separately?” McKinley asked, hoisting a massive plate of pheasant and quail off the island. Maybe she went a smidgen overboard.

Luke stiffened. “She's working another shift at the ER,” he replied, never looking away from Sophie. “Told me to tell you she's sorry she couldn't join us.”

Everyone else shared brief, tense glances.

“I'll put together a plate for you to take home for her. Let her know we missed her.”

“Sure.”

“Wine, anyone?” Spencer offered, breaking the awkward silence.

Most of the evening passed smoothly, with everyone sharing child-friendly stories of past Christmases (Henry and Michael were there, of course!), passing around and feeding Sophie, and reading a (sadly) abridged version of A Christmas Carol.

And then Luke felt the need to snidely comment on Penny’s boyfriend’s absence. It was a relatively new relationship and kind of soon to drag each other into their friend groups.

Spencer and McKinley alone heard him in the kitchen, since the rest of the group were chatting excitedly in the den, waiting to exchange presents.

McKinley wrenched open the back door, seizing Luke by the collar. “You, with me. Now.”

She steered a tipsy Luke onto the back porch, locking the door behind her.

“Are you insane? It’s 30 degrees out here!” he growled, swiping at her keys, but McKinley stuffed them down her bra.

“Good! We can make this quick, and maybe you’ll sober up as a bonus. Say it and we can go back inside.”

“Say what?”

“How much you hate that Penelope’s with someone else.”

Luke snorted, though he flushed with embarrassment. “That’s ridiculous. Why would I -?”

“Because she’s not with you!” she exclaimed, her voice shrill. “You have feelings for her and you are kicking yourself for not acting on them in the beginning.”

He laughed incredulously. “I do not have ‘feelings’ for Penelope.”

“Why else would you have discouraged Phil from pursuing her?”

“How the hell do you know that?” he asked, taking a step back.

McKinley threw up her arms. “I knew Phil and Lisa from volunteering in the rehab wing, remember? One morning the spring after he was murdered, I ran into her at a coffee shop following her shift in the ER. We talked about him, how much his death shook us, and then she said, ‘It’s sad he never had the chance to be with Penelope. They’d have been a cute couple.’”

Luke swallowed hard.

“And I found that interesting, since I distinctly recall you telling Penny that Phil hadn’t asked about her. Lisa told me you also said, ‘You’re no match for Penelope Garcia.’? Bro, you got it for her baaad.”

“Did you mention any of this to Lisa?”

“Don’t you think she’d have confronted you if I had?” McKinley countered, rubbing her arms for warmth. “You think Lisa hasn't noticed how frequently you hang out with me, Spencer, and Penny even when she’s not working? Do you think it’s a coincidence that she’s missing all these parties?”

His face hardened. “Are you suggesting that she’s -”

“Cheating? No! Miserable! You two are miserable - don’t deny it!” she warned when he started protesting.

“Luke, you won’t admit out loud that you’re unhappy with Lisa or that part of the reason you jumped into the relationship was to forget Penny. If you did? Well, then you’d be the most awful person on this porch.”

McKinley breathed in the frigid air before continuing. “So, I’m gonna give you an out.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“By saying something that’s even more awful.” She stared pointedly at the falling snow, voice wavering.

“Like what?”

“Sometimes I hate being a wife and Mom,” she spat venomously. “Sometimes I wanna pack up my old tiny house, drive off and never look back.” She clamped her hands to her mouth, surprising even herself with her confession.

Luke gaped at her for the longest moment, lips parted in shock.

He slumped against the wall. “I shouldn’t be with Lisa, I should be with Penelope. I love her.”

McKinley threw her best ‘No shit, Sherlock’ face his way.

“You serious?”

“In my darkest hours, yes. I love Sophie and Spencer so much, but you remember how much I loved playing live music? I never see Taylor and the gang anymore since I quit The Five Doctors, and it’s been almost a year since I picked up my guitar.”

She leaned into her wall, raking through her hair. “Every day I scramble to meet deadlines at work, then here it’s cooking, cleaning, laundry, feeding and bedtime. I’m a single parent for weeks at a time. It never lets up. It’s really hard, Luke.”

“Have you talked to Spencer about -” he stopped short at the glare on her face.

“Right, that’s not fair of me.”

McKinley retrieved her keys. “Horror of horrors, we have to be adults about this. I need to adjust to my new normal and you need to talk to Lisa, because if you keep avoiding the subject, it’ll blow up in your faces.”

“And Penelope? I’m not sure what to say to her. I mean, does she even feel the same way about me?” He cringed at how junior high that sounded.

“Luke, if you wanna know how Penelope feels, you have to talk to her."

They discreetly returned to the kitchen, where Spencer was pouring cocoa for everyone.

“Presents, presents, presents!” Michael chanted.

Soon the den was drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. At some point, JJ switched her phone to video because the kids were putting on quite a show. Amid the excitement, Sophie squirmed in Penelope’s lap and stretched her arms in Spencer’s direction.

“Had enough Aunt Penny for tonight?” she asked, handing her over. “Okie-dokie. I’m marvelous but I’m not Mommy or Daddy.”

Sophie studied her father’s face intently, vocalizing softly. She suddenly reached up, patting his cheek.

“Dah-dah.”

The room fell silent.

McKinley gasped. “Did she just…?”

“She did,” Spencer whispered in awe. “Her first word. Yes, sweetheart, I’m your Daddy.”

Everyone watched the three huddled together in a private family moment, elated beyond description for their friend. He had waited years for this and he deserved every happiness.

…

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Luke froze, hand hovering by the doorknob. “Uuum, home?”

“Four glasses of wine? You’re not safe to drive. You’re sleeping on our couch.”

“She’s right, Luke. Besides, the weather’s picking up.”

He couldn’t argue with that: the snowfall obscured the street, it was so thick. To be honest, he didn’t want to go home anyway.

McKinley carried Sophie to the nursery, pausing at the hall closet.

“Hmmm, why not?” she muttered to herself.

Once Spencer found blankets and pillows for Luke, he went to help tuck in Sophie. The sound of plucking and twanging caught his attention. Peering into the nursery, he was met with a precious scene.

McKinley stood by the crib, tuning her guitar. Spencer remained silent, not wanting to disrupt her. Slowly, she began softly playing “La Vie En Rose,” speaking the lyrics since she couldn’t actually sing.

...Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

“It’s great hearing you play again.”

“I’m kinda rusty, ” she grinned sheepishly.

“Nonsense,” he corrected, pulling her into one of those dizzying kisses.

Up close, Spencer could see the exhaustion in his wife’s eyes.

“You’ve done a lot today,” he noted as he rubbed her back. “Let me run you a bath, and then I can read you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

McKinley sighed contentedly. “Perfect.”

---

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx @cmbingo

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc

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finnofamerica · 5 years

Text

Valley Fair - Kevin Gnapoor x Reader ||1||

A/n: I don’t have a summary because I wrote this impulsively after reading all the Kevin G content I could find and watching all the MathLit videos so.........Enjoy

Word Count: 1617

Date: 7.13.2019

|| Masterlist ||

"As you know," Principal Duvall stood on the stage in the auditorium, "every year the school likes to do something nice for the Junior and Senior classes near the end of the school year."

Off to the side, Kevin whooped and hollered, "Love you, Duvall!"

"Thank you, Kevin," Duvall let out a defeated sigh, "This year the overwhelming vote was for Valley Fair amusement park!"

The crowd roared, meanwhile, Duvall tried to calm the masses.

KG: Hope you got a swimsuit that shows off your polynomial curves

Y/n: Step off it, Kevin

KG: Girl you know you love me!

You looked at him from across the room, rolling your eyes as he shot you a wink and settled in for the rest if Duvall's 'come to Jesus' talk.

You weren't a mathlete, but Kevin was your friend - or rather he was your friend, you weren't entirely sure he'd call you one. He had Tyler, Marwan, and Cady too. You only really knew him because he was the reason you didn't fail your math class. Who better to tutor you than one of the smarted boys at North Shore High?

You couldn't have asked for a better tutor, really - especially after he realized that you responded better to music than math. Kevin would rap notes and processes and explanations. He would stay with you after school in the library helping you study for your tests.

You held him in the admiration of an object you desired but couldn't have. It wasn't love. It wasn't a crush, but it was damn near the closest thing to it. Kevin Gnapoor was to you as the sky was to dreamers; ever-present but just out of your reach.

Of course, being the head of the Radio and A/V clubs, you were branded a whole new level of loser by the Plastics. Cady was your lord and savior, taking them down from the inside all while being the nicest person you knew.

It was half a days drive to the amusement park. The school would get a hotel. The next day would be spent at the park. Then a second night in the hotel, and you would be back home by one the day after.

Friday morning you had your go-bag packed with the essentials and some extra clothes just in case.

"Have fun!" Your aunt gave you a thumbs up from the car as she dropped you off.

"Thanks, aunt Jo," you set your bag on the sidewalk, "I love you! See you on Sunday."

"Okay, Sweetie, text me or Ed okay?"

"Yo! Y/l/n!" A voice called.

"I gotta blast, but I will I promise!"

You ran to the group that was waiting for you. It was just a couple of kids from your clubs and, honestly, they were mostly the same people anyway. You knew them and you were kind of friends with them. You weren't that great at socializing with people your own age.

"I can't wait to record a report of this!" Niko beamed. She was the interviewer/reporter for the radio club, reporting to the masses the events of North Shore High.

"Niko, this is supposed to be a fun trip! Enjoy yourself!" You exclaimed.

"Plot twist: reporting is fun for me." She stuck her tongue out at you, making you laugh. It didn't take long for everyone to show up, despite the earliness of the morning. Your crew split up on the bus, leaving you to sit with Niko, which was fine. It's not like you were hoping one of the Power of 3 would sit with you. No, Cady sat with Marwan and Tyler sat with Kevin G himself.

KG: Hope you packed your swimsuit, Norbury says the hotel has a pool.

Y/n: I did, but you won't see me in it.

KG: Can I see you out of it 😉?

Y/n: Kevin!

"Girl you gotta get some shades or something." Niko snorted when she noticed you making a face at Kevin - who only waved his phone because he wanted you to look at it.

"Why?" You slipped your phone back in your pocket.

"Because you got some raging heart eyes for a certain rapping mathlete."

"I don't." You frowned. "Kevin barely even knows me."

"I never said it was Kevin." She smirked.

"It was implied! We all know Tyler and Marwan get their flow from Kevin."

Niko rolled her eyes at you and pulled out her phone to watch movies for the ride.

KG: All right, All right, too far?

Y/n: actually that was usual for you, you're just embarrassing.

KG: did you just call THE Kevin G embarrassing?

Y/n: I did.

KG: Hey

Y/n: What?

KG: I must be a math book.

Y/n: accurate but why?

KG: Bc you solve all my problems.

Y/n: Cheesy. I thought you had better lines than that, KG.

"Who you texting, Kevin?" Tyler leaned over, trying to peak at Kevin's phone.

"Y/n." Kevin shrugged. Tyler hummed.

----

"Hey Marwan, wanna be my buddy?" Tyler asked after Norbury gave her buddy system talk. Marwan just shrugged and nodded.

"Buddies?" You asked Niko.

"Nah, I told Cady I'd be her buddy so Janis could stay with Damien. Roomies tho?"

"Sure, roomies." You deflated. She just gave you a reassuring smile.

"Come on, let's settle into our room then hit the pool."

"Deal."

"Are you sure about this Niko?" You tugged on the sides of your bathing suit, making sure you were covered properly.

"Absolutely, besides you can just put shorts and a shirt on and if you decide to get in the water then bam!" She wiggled her eyebrows at you. You frowned and grabbed your hoodie, slipping it on.

You loved your uncle for giving you some of his huge clothes from before he lost weight. The hoodie went to your knees and it was by far your favorite thing that you owned.

"And the hoodie is back," Niko sighed, "Ready to go?"

"Yup!" You grabbed your book. Niko shook her head with a fond smile.

----

“Girl, you know the point of coming to a pool is to get into the water?" Kevin sat at the end of the deck chair you were curled up on.

"I need to get caught up on my reading." You shrugged. Kevin shook his head.

"Anyway, it seems Tyler and Marwan are ditching me tomorrow and Cady already has a buddy."

"I know, Niko ditched me for her."

"Since we are in a unique position, wanna be my buddy?"

"Is the square root of two a rational number?" You asked like it was obvious.

"Uh..." he hesitated, "no."

"Damn it, I was hoping it was."

"So yes? You'll be my buddy?"

"Yeah, I'll be your buddy," you laughed as he cheered.

"I'm taking you on all the rides!" Kevin exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear.

"Okay, okay," you pushed him away gently, mirth still on your lips, "go away."

"You gonna go in the water?"

"No."

"Then nah, imma stay here boo."

"You're making me regret my choices, KG."

----

"Remember everyone, we meet back at the main entrance at 10 PM. If you're going to be a little late text me or one of the other chaperones." Mr. Flemming went over the rules for the third time. "You must be in groups of at least two and one of you must have a working phone, though I doubt that will be a problem."

"So what's the plan? Rides then water park or?" Kevin asked as you slid into the seat next to him. You had a bag in your lap carrying all you would need for the day.

"No. The water park closes earlier so we should do that first, then rides to dry off." You dug through the bag making sure you had everything.

"Sounds good." He stretched. "You ready?"

“Heck yeah, man, I love amusement parks."

"Think you can ride more rides than the Kevin G?" He popped his collar cockily.

"Yes, actually," you abandoned your hoodie. The bus was already sweltering will all these sweaty teens filling it up.

"I'll make you a deal. If you can ride a ride that I won't go on, then I'll take you to eat wherever you want when we get back to North Shore."

"You are so on."

----

You scrutinized yourself in the mirror of that cold public restroom. You had to admit you did look good in your bathing suit, but you weren't entirely sure you were comfortable in it.

It was now or never, you thought to yourself. You didn't give yourself the chance to chicken out as you stepped out into the heat of the day.

"Damn girl, you've got more curves than a triple integral." Kevin whistled. Of course, he'd be waiting for you.

"You didn't have to wait for me, Kevin. I would've found you." You kept your eyes on the ground. You didn't wanna be a creep and stare at him, as tempting as it was.

"And let everyone else see you first? No way." He walked backward in front of you. "You actually getting in the water today?"

"Yeah, but only because I wanna ride those." You pointed to Breakers Pipeline and Plunge. "I looked them up. Those four are 65-foot free fall body slides. You stand on a platform and it drops out from understand you."

"Oof. I think you like those slides more than me." He pressed his hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt.

"Well-" you grinned.

"Y/n l, don't play with a homeboy's heart like that."

"C'mon." You laughed, leading the way to the water slides.

________________________________________________________________

Tags: OPEN

@carolinesbookworld @anon-pancake @bat-anxnymous @sparkle-heart-side-blog

#kevin gnapoor x reader #kevin g x reader #meangirls x reader #finn writes #full length fic #1617 holy shit that's like davids favorite year

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

(Second film. At cotillion. Part three. After Mal’s been pulled into the water by huma)

Ben: where is she I can’t see her?

Carlos: how long can she hold her breath

Jay: I. I don’t know

Ben: not long.

Evie: what?

Ben: our first date. She thought I drowned. Went in after me and

Jay: you saved her. I remember. Now we gotta save her again.

Ben: I know to oh boy

(Just then the water bubbles furiously and Uma rises from the surface the lower half of her body octopoid and at least the same height as Ursula was during her final battle, perched on her should is Harry. And bound in a tentacle, barely conscious is...)

Ben: MAL!

Doug: Uma stop this now! You’re acting crazy!

Uma (voice booming): oh no dear. Spiteful vindictive

Harry (having the absolute best time of his life): INCREDIBLY LARGE!

Huma: but never crazy!

Uma: now on to business

(She drops Mal into the ocean and begins trying to capsize the boat)

Elsa: time to put that rusty old wand of yours to work headmistress. Children! Jay Evie Jane Ben. With me

Jane: what’re we doing

Elsa: we’re going to stop this boat from becoming the second titanic. On three. 1...2...3!!!!

(They’re eyes all glow and the boat steadies)

Evie: how the

Elsa: the beauty of a crisis. Now Ben. I assume you’re about to do something heroic and foolhardy

Ben: probably

Elsa: try and make sure that nobody gets hurt.

Ben: of course. I might have a plan. Doug is Agrabahn silk shrinkable

Evie (sternly) and Doug: yes

Ben: ah. Ok then how about this

(A flick of his wrist and he’s back in his vk outfit with a few small differences)

Evie: what happened to the jacket

Doug (tired dad mode): and the undershirt

Ben: they’d weigh me down. Jay could you hold this please?

(He hands Jay the crown)

Jay: sure but oh jeez (Ben’s jogging to the railing) wait wait wait

Ben: yes yes yes?

Jay: first of all stop that. Second of all. Here (he summons Maleficent’s sceptre our of thin air and hands it to Ben). Take this. It should help her

Ben: thank you so much woah head rush. Ahem woozy. Hm. All better now

Jay: yeah that’s because it recognises your magic but not you

Ben: I love being a hybrid

Adam: a WHAT?!?!?!

(Ben uses telekinesis to shove his father out of the way into the corridor)

Ben: blow it out your ass dad. Wish us luck. Imma coming honey!

(He launches himself over the side and into the water. Just barely missing Uma’s tentacles)

Doug: his magic will protect him right

Jay: possibly. If not. Hope you like the throne

Carlos (hitting his arm): not funny.

Jay: sorry

Doug: genies can breathe underwater right?

Jay: yes

Doug: Ben has five minutes. Then you’re going in after them

Jay (phoney British accent): as you command. My liege

(Under the water Ben’s swimming to Mal who’s sinking fast. He keeps dodging Uma’s tentacles. Finally he reaches Mal and put her mothers sceptre within arms reach. The moment it touches her hand her eyes open)

(Back on the ship)

Elsa: can anyone see them and Dizzy please stop throwing canapés at Uma

Dizzy (conspicuously giving Merida the food): it was Merida (innocent giggle)

Elsa: remember that I have a younger sister.

Doug: Hook seems to be having some sort of religious experience up there

Evie: yeah. He sorta reminds of someone

Devie (looking at each other in recognition): Troy McClure

(The waters bubbling again)

Jay: come on guys. Come on. Don’t let her win. Not like this

(Ben and Mal come shooting out of water. Mal’s now a dragon. Ben’s perched on her back laughing and shrieking his head off)

Ben (at the top of his lungs): WAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOO!!!! MY GIRLFRIEND’S A DRAGON!!!!

Devie: donkey from shrek

(Mal climbs further up into the sky. Ben slips. And falls off her).

Harry: He not gonna make is he?

(Ben plummets through the clouds but pulls up out of it just barely skimming the water)

Harry (fed up): of course he did

(Ben shoots up into the sky. His clothes melt away. From blue and gold to green. He lands on the railing still sopping wet. Now clad in green skelton leaf)

Ben (at the top of his lungs): COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!!! (He strikes a power pose, fists on hips and turns to the others on the boat) that was amazing!

Jay (laughing): wow. You look

Carlos: like Pan.

Evie: HAHA! Harry’s in the drink. Again. (She cackles)

(Harry’s fainted dead away off Uma’s shoulder and crashed into the waves below)

Evie: lets boil him

Jay and Doug: no

Evie, Carlos and Dizzy: aww man

Ben: alrighty then. Anyway.

(He flies up to the girls and puts himself between them)

Ben: This isn’t the way. Both of you know that letting whatever happened years ago influence your actions today won’t solve anything. The best thing to do is to keep moving forward and

Uma: back off flyboy

(She swats Ben away and he gets knocked into a pole)

Uma: c’mon Mal let’s finish this once and for all

(Cecealia vs dragon fight begins)

Evie: and that only took twenty minutes to happen

Carlos: yeah. I woulda thought it’d happen the moment ma turned up not dead

Devie, Jay and Dizzy: yeah

Lonnie: we have to help him

Evie: right. Jay get a ladder. I’ll climb up

Lonnie: no. Not Ben. He’s fine. Look

(Ben’s currently trying to help Mal. Setting up shield after shield against Uma’s tentacles)

Lonnie: I meant the other one

Evie: no.

Jane: we should at least try. It’s the right thing to do

Doug: usually is be inclined to agree but you’ve not seen him in action

Carlos: I say we let it drown

Devie: ditto.

Jay: we’ve gotta fish it-him-out.

Carlos: why?

Jay: because if we wanna get Uma on side then the mollusk has to live. No matter how much he deserves to be lost to the depth

Carlos: I hate it when you’re right

Gil (Boyce quivering): please. Please don’t let him die. Please?

(Carlos looks at Gil stony faced. And relents)

Carlos: have it on record that I WILL stab him at the first opportunity. No matter how much the human golden retriever begs

Jay: so you’re not against Evie and I fishing him out

Carlos: against as in anti harry? Yes. Against you doing what’s gotta be done. Reluctantly no

Jay: love ya C

Carlos (giggling): you are now officially out of the doghouse.

Jay: Melody could you?

Melody (now in a lovely ice blue crystalline dress courtesy of Elsa): yes?

Jay: wow nice threads. Anyway. I have it on good authority that you carry around a certain family heirloom?

Melody: Ja

Jay: don’t know what that means. I’m not danish.

Melody: yes I’ve got my grandfathers trident. So I can help you however you want

Adam: miss Boisen I absolutely forbid you help them

Melody: I do not take orders from you Adam. Never have. Never will. Because I am not part of your staff. I am a student teacher. I am my sisters assistant until such time she graduates. But I am not your employee. So yeah. I’m helping my students. Jay. What do you need

Jay (massive grin on his face): we’re going squid fishing

Melody: where do I aim?

(She juts our her hand and the trident spears)

(At the buffet table)

Vision!Harry: sup losers

V!Ben: oh fuck off you no handed blunder

V!Harry: two hands. Numbnuts

V!Ben: keep talking. See what happens. I would love to dismantle you like a Lego Death Star and immolate your bones with you skin still on them

V!Harry: and the bitch says Uma means nothing to her

V!Ben: no. It’s the island Mal doesn’t care about. If Uma meant nothing to Mal. I’d still be jay.

V!Lonnie: ok I’m completely lost

V!Doug: we change when the closest person to our one changed. I used to be Evie. Tall ghostly pale and terrifying used to be Gil. And our “esteemed” leader. Used to be jay.

V!Carlos (smugly): I’ve always been like this

The other soul guides (sans Lonnie): yippee for you

(V!Carlos smiles indulgently)

(Back to the action at the railing)

Jay: so you’re sure you know how to do this without killing Uma?

Melody: oh my friend. With a fun and grin it works fine

Jay: what

Melody: yes. Yes I do know how to do this without hurting my second cousin

Jay: I’m sorry. Did you say second cousin?

Melody: yes. Ursula is my mother’s aunt. That makes Uma and my mother cousins. That makes her and I second cousins.

Jay: I am so sorry

Melody: why would you be sorry? So I’m related to a villain and her daughter. So is Ben. So are you and your little found family. Let’s help your friends.

(She throws the trident in Uma’s direction and it nicks the tentacle that was about to knock Ben out of the sky. Uma bellows in pain)

Uma: WHO DID THAT

Melody: hey! Hey you! Giant scary girl! Listen to. Ben. Or you know, me. Either one will do so

Jay (aside to her): not helping

Melody: yeah thought not

Jay: ok here’s what we’re going to do. Evie. Carlos. Fish the creature from the black lagoon out of the drink. I’m gonna help Ben.

(With that he flies up to where Ben is)

Jay: hey buddy. Need a little help?

Ben (still desperately dodging the tentacles): yes please

Jay: then grab a tentacle

Ben (scandalised): what?

Jay: you heard me. If we don’t do this then the student body will be a human interest story on the news tomorrow morning

Ben: ok

(They dive down and grab one of Uma’s tentacles. Below them in the water Harry’s screaming at them to let her go. Uma for her part does a good job of fighting them off. Mal just hovers there confused)

Jay: and lift

Ben: oh dear

(They fly upwards past Mal and drag Uma along for the ride. Harry grabs on to a tentacle and refuses to let go. But then he slips and lands painfully on the railing)

Carlos: finally. The Hook family line has ended

Harry: I HAVE TWO SISTERS

Carlos: who the fuck cares! Lonnie. Doug. Would you be dears and drags that on to the deck. I’ll get the carving knife

Doug: should we

Lonnie: quiet I don’t think we’re allowed to talk

(They deposit Harry in the deck and Carlos stands over him knife in hand)

Carlos: what do you want me to do Jay!

Jay: keep him there. And E! Keep those force fields up. Otherwise the first thirty rows WILL get wet

Evie: what are you gonna do?

Jay: this (to Ben) DROP HER

(The king and the genie let Uma fall into the water and the impart would’ve reflooded the deck if not for the shields. Unfortunately. This only serves to make Uma mad again. And she channels this anger by ensnaring Ben in her tentacles slowly choking the life out of the king. Jay’s had enough. His body assumes its golden lustre and he flies up into Uma’s face)

Jay: THAT. IS. ENOUGH. YOU KNOW THIS ISNT THE WAY. YOU KNOW THIS WILL ONLY SERVE TO FURTHET ALIENATE YOU. IF YOU WANT WHAT WE HAVE YOU NEED TO STOP ACTING LIKE A PETULANT CHILD AND START PLAYING THE GAME RIGHT. OTHERWISE IT WILL BE JUST YOU AND THAT THING THAT IS SPEWING TWICE SWALLOWED SEA WATER ON EVIES MANOLOS LEFT ON THE ISLAND TO ROT

(On the deck Evie jumps out of Harry’s range)

Jay: SO WHAT IS IT GOING TO BE. A TANTRUM OR ARE YOU GOING TO USE THE BRAINS I KNOW YOU HAVE

(Uma’s face silently crumples. She (surprisingly gently) puts Ben back on deck, soaked to the bone and retching slightly from the choking but none the worse for wear, plucks up Harry and swiftly disappears beneath the waves leaving Ben’s ring behind)

Jay: well. That was surprisingly easily handled

(He flies down to the deck and hands Ben back his crown. Mal flaps back down, purple and green smoke surrounds her and she’s back in human form, except her hair’s undone, her dress is purple green and black and she’s holding the sceptre in her right hand. She smiles weakly at the crowd. The promptly spins around and vomits over the side. Loudly. For two full minutes. Jay rushes over to her)

Jay: hey you. Now. I got you a cap of mouth wash. And a breath mint. There you go. Now. (Loud whisper) a dragon. A giant fire breathing scaly ass mother fu

Mal (taking his face in her hands gently to shit him up): I know. I know.

Jay: how?

Mal: that I don’t know

Jay: oooh the sceptre.

Mal: that’s probably

Jay: now. The king awaits. Shall we?

Mal: we shall

(They walk down the stairs to where the series is. She and Ben smile at each other. Then he scoops get up and plants one on her. Carlos, not one to be outdone, scurries over to Jay, dips him and plants a longer one in him. Which gathers an even bigger cheer from the crowd. Especially Gil who can be heard over the others)

Doug: it’s about damn time.

Mal: hey jay. Stop by my room later. We gotta talk

Jay: well let’s see have you talked with Doug yet?

Doug: no. No she has not

Jay: you first then me. Capiche?

Mal: capiche

(On the chaperones platform Fairy Godmother is tight lipped)

Elsa: they’re teenagers headmistress. They will kiss.

Fairy Godmother: oh it’s not that your majesty. I can smell something unpleasant

Elsa (sniffing): you know what. I can too

Merida: it’s rotten skeleton leaves. What our dear little boy king is wearing.

Elsa: Oh. Queen Mother. Your turn

Belle: Ben?

(Ben doesn’t answer, he’s still looking at Mal in reverence, until Mal clears her throat and cocks her head to Belle’s location)

Mal: it seems that your clothes are rotting away dear.

Ben: is everything

Mal: oh yeah. But your shoulders are exposed

Ben: right. Ummmm. Wait right here

(He teleports to his mothers side. When the smoke clears he’s back in his vk outfit. Still without the beanie jacket or undershirt)

Ben: better?

Mal: ooooh so much better

Belle: the tuxedo was so much more

Evie: don’t worry Belle. The silk used is shrinkable. So this is preferable.

Belle: ah. Ok. Now Ben. I and the others adults are going to the yachts bar. Lumiere is going to be here as damage control. But you are in charge. Understand?

(Ben nods emphatically. The four women turn to go but Mal catches up with them before they leave)

Mal: Fairy Godmother. Do you think I could get my spell book back from the museum? Tomorrow I mean. Only that the last few days did a number on me and made me realise I can’t not use what I have. It’s not healthy and it’s not right. Is any of this making any sense to you at all?

Fairy Godmother: of course dear. It’s your property after all. Just say the word and it’s yours

Mal: please?

Fairy Godmother: where would you like it to be?

Mal: Jay’s room. Bedside cabinet. With a protection spell on it so only Ben and I can use it. Because. I have helluva lot to teach him

Ben: I very much look forward to learning from you

Mal: and. I’m sure Ben would agree. Magic classes. For those that want them. I know I would. No. I know that I need to learn more control WOAH!

(Ben’s scooped her up in a bear hug)

Mal: I take it you like that idea

Doug: when you were >ahem< out for the count Ben decided that it was time that magic be fully reinstated

Mal: I LOVE THIS BOY

Belle: I can see that the kingdom will be in very safe hands with you two and you are on his back

(Mal’s clambered onto Ben’s back and she’s stroking his hair away from his face)

Elsa: Queen Mother. I believe this is our exit cue

Merida: aw but I wanna dance

Elsa: the bar has Guinness whiskey

Merida: PEACE FECKERS

(She runs off)

Belle: that was easily handled

(As they’re leaving)

Belle: Verna could you get me the family lawyer please

Verna: of course ma’am. Uhhhh. Heh heh. What for?

Belle: I need to see mr Hartcourt about divorcing Adam and adopting that young man

Elsa: Gil? You want to adopt Gil?

Belle: yes. Problem?

Elsa: none whatsoever. In fact I’ve got an idea I’d like to run through with Ben. When the cotillion is over tomorrow of course

Belle: I assure you your majesty you shall have the full unwavering support of my son and I

Elsa: god save the king and his mother then

Belle: indeed

(Back at the cotillion)

Carlos: alright. ALRIGHT! Everyone. The ones of the hour. My parents! King Ben. Lady Mal. Take it away old man

Ben (laughing): I’m only two years older than you C

Carlos (a “I’m cute so I can get away with it” look on his face): still older

Mal (chuckles as she tilts Ben’s crown): I think what Carlos is trying to is: let’s party

(She uses magic to levitate the electronic equipment above the deck and they all start dancing)

(This is when “it’s time” happens)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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aliypop · 4 years

Text

Royalty (Part 2 Of Loyalty)

Wordcount: 2,100

A/N: So this is a story about Alana and her backstory from when she was little to Han solo so I hope you enjoy it.

"She has your eye's," Dean said,

"And she has your dark curly hair," Celfra said sitting back on the bed, yawning " One day she'll be a great ruler," Celfra said drifting off to sleep as Dean held the sleeping child in his arms, "Maybe she'll be a smuggler, " he smirked at his wife,

"Maybe she'll be loved by all.." Celfra kissed him on the cheeks as the sky became darker,

"Or a heartbreaker.." he joked, " And a charmer who's quick on her feet.."

"whatever she becomes she'll be our loyal Alana,"

"Not so fast," Dean shouted walking behind the young heir Alana, who was staring at the Naboo Impulse her father's old ship, to her it was bigger than anything she had ever laid her eyes on, Dean knew too well what she was thinking,

"Can we go on an adventure!" her big brown eyes sparkling with the gleam of a child beaming, something he didn't get to experience when he was her age, "Did you finish your blue milk young lady?" he looked at her, as she pouted looking up at her father, "It's nasty.." poking her lip out as she grumbled, "No adven-" he started his sentence watching her run off to go chug her milk,

"Now can we go!" she asked, Dean, nodded his head in agreement the two walking aboard the ship, it had been a while since he had been on, ever since he married Celfra and got heavy into royal duties he began losing time as a smuggler, a part of him hoped that Alana would at least take that legacy with her,

"I'm just saying Rylan it's stupid.." Alana grumbled sitting in her bedroom as the handmaidens did her hair, now at the age of 16 sat Alana and her best friend Rylan who had been going on about his aunt trying to marry him off, "Even AL-1 can agree," she continued laughing at his reaction,

"Yeah, but she wants me to marry you, my best friend.." he began to panic as Alana held him, "And I don't want to, not that there's anything wrong with you," he looked directly at her, Alana still giggling as she pieced it together, Rylan and her had already made plans to lead his aunt on by pretending to be a couple until they had both found someone they found worthy to court,

It was midnight, and the three moons were up, and Alana was already out of the palace, racing towards the steps and into the arms of a double bunned princess, "You are as radiant as the suns of Tatooine.." Alana blushed to kiss her hand, Leia rolled her eyes playfully a giggle leaving her lips,

"You are a flirt,"

"I know," Alana laughed taking her hand as they ran into the peaceful nightlife of the city, running as fast as they could until they bumped into someone,

"Hey, becar-"

"Rylan?" Alana whispered as the two friends looked at each other, "Alana, Leia?" he gasped, "You're dating a princess!" he gasped the two nodded, " Do you have a brother?"

"I don't." Leia snickered at him,

"Alright AL-1 it's time for us to start a new life," Alana smiled, "Dad has the note, and mom doesn't know I'm gone," AL-1 looked at her rolling around as she sat in the co-pilot seat, flipping the switches Alana found a picture on the ground, it was of her and her mother when she was nine years old, the perfect daughter in her mind, walking back to the captain seat she sat down closed her eyes and thought of a new place somewhere warm and sunny where little to no one would know her, drifting into space she found herself on a desert planet nothing but a few huts on it with three suns and a,

"Cantina... I've never been to one of those.." she whispered to herself, walking in she saw so many people of so many different planets that she couldn't help but stare in aw from taking it all in,

"Your kind isn't welcomed here,"

Alana looked at the waitress a bit angry at what she just said to AL-1 "She's with me, " she never did understand the hatred towards droids they were the kindest things ever, at least that's what she knew her AL-1 to be,

"You cheated!"

"You lost the game, and you lost your -"

" I wanna play.." Alana said sitting at the table of what looked like a group of roughings, thugs, and well mostly smugglers, but the person that stood out to her the most was a man wearing the most obnoxious colored cape she had ever laid eyes on in her life with a bright neon shirt to match it, her eyes were already studying the deck of cards although it wasn't like she had never played the game before,

"Why would a beautiful girl like yourself want to pla-"

"Deal me in.," she smirked, tossing her tiara in the pot, "A Nabooian tiara.. nice steal there," Alana looked at the young man confused by what he meant as a nice steal when it was, in fact, her own,

"Y-yeah stole it from the queen!" Alana smirked looking around the table,

"The queen is dead, anyways what's your name," he said trying to change the subject, there was something about this girl that had a mystery to her,

"Um... Lana Corge Clargo .." she stuck her hand out smiling,

"Call me Lando," he smirked kissing her hand, a waitress walked by winking at Lando, "Get her a Jawa Juice," he whispered, Alana was excited already making friends, and she had just landed on the planet, playing the game Alana began to learn more about Lando, he believed in luck, smooth-talking, and lots of flirting,

"So Clargo.," he smirked the two were the only ones left playing,

"Yes Lando.." she smiled shifting through her cards, she had already won 2 matches, but this one was for the big win, "Ever won a big bounty before," he asked as her head shot up from her cards," No.." she ignored his question,

"Why not go on an adventure.. go see the Galaxy.."

"-23!" she slammed the cards down on the table, taking everything in the pot since, after all, she did win, but the thing that struck out to her the most was a pair of golden Corellian spike dice, "I could take the Naboo Impulse out for a spin.," she replied to him, Lando looked at her, his eyes wide from what she had just said, every smuggler just about knew the existence of the coaxuim carrying machine that used to be named the Corellian Fury,

"So you're Clargo's daughter," Lando smirked, "Well why didn't you say so.," he laughed as Alana rolled her eye's, "Because .. wait you know my dad," she blinked at him Lando nodded as the two walked out of the Cantina,

"By the way, I like Corge better.."

PEW!

"Keep shooting!"

"But what if I kill someone!"

"That's the point !"

Alana was nervous it was her first mission as a smuggler, and as much as she enjoyed adventure she wasn't too sure if this was what she wanted, "Qi'ra how'd you get in this mess," Lando laughed, "Nice to see you too Calrissian," Qi'ra rolled her eyes looking at the vibrant man yet again, firing off her blaster Alana was love-struck by the woman,

"So who's this,"

"Lana Corge... " she stuck her hand out, nervously looking at the other woman, "Well if you're gonna be a smuggler you need to know how to think quick," she smirked at her, "I don't think I ca-"

"Hey, You!"

"Lana shoot!!"

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Qi'ra smirked as she kissed Lana on the cheek, running back to the Falcon Qi'ra had found a pair of golden dice on the ground, she knew them all too well, picking them up placing them in her pocket, "So for my first mission how did I-"

"You're a deadly shot, " Lando said watching her reaction,

"So I'm a good smuggler," Lana beamed sitting in the co-pilot seat,

"Number out the seat.."

"Let her stay," Qi'ra kissed her forehead, "She's fine," a chuckle leaving her lips, the small glimmer of gold caught her eyes,

"On second thought I'll be back Lando.," Qi'ra was in her room the dice in her hands "Mmhmm," turning her focus towards the door was Lana who had her foot propped up against it a grin on her face watching the way she moved, the way her hair fell perfectly on her shoulder, and how her smile had the purest of lies hiding behind it, "

So where did you get those dice from,"

"It's a long story.." Qi'ra sighed pretending as though she didn't take them from her, "Tell me about it," Lana walked in the room as she sat on the bed, "They used to belong to a friend of mine.."

"You liked him.." Lana asked, seeing the way she looked at the golden objects, "didn't you.." Qi'ra looked away from her for a second, "You wouldn't understand.." she shook her head, "Try leaving a princess behind," Lana said holding her hand getting close to her,

"You left a princess behind,"

"My own parents too," she said, "You can keep the dice, I have my own pair anyways." she winked at her walking out the room, Lana didn't exactly enjoy the fact that things didn't go as planned or so she thought, Qi'ra looked down two rocks were in her hands,

"Well played Corge.." she whispered pulling the new smuggler into her room, "You're smooth almost like someone I know," she kissed her on the neck, the doors to her room closed behind the two,

"So how did things go," Lando smirked still piloting the ship, he knew that she'd have bright future, but it was up to her to find that out,

CLANK!

"Is she okay.." Lana was back on Tatooine after another successful mission, but AL-1 was in distress and in dire need of an update, the droid stood there lifeless which scared the smuggler completely, she didn't want to lose her best friend at all, "AL-1 should be finished pretty soon," the blond-haired guy said, someone in the Cantina had told her that Luke Skywalker was a pretty good droid fixer-upper and she only hoped that they were right,

"So how long have you been doing this?"

"For a few years, I have a droid myself actually, " a blue and white droid came out of nowhere beeping along rolling towards the pink one, "Nice to meet you R2D2 I'm Lana," she giggled as Luke looked at her confused, "

You understand him.."

"I understand all droids," she winked, suddenly she heard the familiar beeping of AL-1 hugging the droid,

"Cut it out !" the droid screamed

"Sorry about that AL-1"

CRASH!

"And this my dear is how I die," Han joked laying in the middle of the cockpit on the Falcon, Alana was in the engineering bay laughing at how dramatic Han was being, the hyperdrive of the ship was acting funny and, Han wasn't making it any better, "You'll have to come to see this!" she shouted pointing at what was causing it to be completely farked, Han ran over his arms wrapped around her waist to keep her stable or so he said to himself, '

"Is that," "Chewie's shedding hair, yes" she began laughing, "You are so smart.," Han said amazed by her, "Now Mr. Solo if you'd let me work we can go whenever you want to go," she said giving her a few hours Han talked to Chewie,

Alana had finally finished, covered in sweat, oil, and whoever knows what else, "Hey you can try it now by the way," running back to the engineering base Han picked her up as he spun her around, "I love you, I really do-" the atmosphere around them got silent,

"Do you really mean it.." she mumbled,

"Of course I do," Han said holding her tight as if he were afraid to let her go,

"That's the first time you've ever said it.." she looked at him blushing hard, "Is it really," he questioned as he held her hand, "Well then I'll say it again," he gave her a quick peck,

"My beautiful Nabooian dream girl, I love you!"

"Don't be so dramatic," she laughed,

"Well, would me saying I want to be with you be dramatic?"

" Chewie AL-1 you're in charge!"

#star wars #star warsoc #new stuff #Alana Mabecorge #Dean Mabecorge #Celfra Mabecorge #fanfiction

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ororowrites · 5 years

Text

Erik Stevens and OC- Could’ve Been - just friends (chap. 2)

Characters: Erik Stevens and Essence Jones

Warnings: drugs and language

Word Count: 3,671

Based on the song: Just Friends by Musiq

Prelude - Chapter 1

It had been seven years since Erik and Essence witnessed the murder of N’Darius Stevens. That single moment changed their lives forever. Erik was sent through the system, bouncing from foster home to foster home until he landed with an aunt he barely knew. For two years, Essence didn’t even hear from him, causing them to grow a part. They used to talk everyday, even when they had arguments. Now it seemed like they were strangers getting to know each other all over again.

By the time Essence and Erik reached 9th grade, Erik moved in with his aunt and began attending high school with Essence. Occasionally they would talk, or hang out to do homework but Erik was best friends with another group of people. Some days he missed school without explanation and would come back decked out in the latest Jordan gear. He hung out with people like Big Chucky, the neighborhood dope dealer. Anyone else wouldn’t be shocked by Erik’s behavior or the people he hung around on a daily basis, but Essence. Her childhood best friend was rough around the edges, but he never seemed like the type to be a gang banger.

Watching after her troubled friend wasn’t Essence’s only dilemma. Tyra Lennox, her mother, had returned home from her latest stint in prison. Grandma Hazel watched after Essence as long as she could, until she passed away from lung cancer two years after Tyra was released. That sent Essence back to live with her mother, a woman that barely deserved that title. Tyra had four children, Essence being the only child living with her. The other three children lived with their father.

“Essence, get your little ass down here. Now,” Tyra yelled up the stairs. Essence was in the middle of studying for an exam. The teenager rolled her eyes and followed the order. “Girl thinks she can do whatever the fuck she wants,” Tyra was mumbling under her breath when Essence appeared in front of her. “What the fuck is this?”

Confused, Essence didn’t answer right away.

“Little girl, what is this,” Tyra questioned again, holding up a wad of cash she had found. “You hiding money from me for a reason?”

Truth be told, Essence was saving money to move out and away from Chicago. Her mother was toxic and negligent. Nothing good was ever going to come from her living with the woman and Essence was counting her days.

“No,” Essence lied, eyeing the cash as Tyra counted it. Three hundred dollars. “I can barely pay bills around here and you hiding all this money? I should slap you, get outta my face.”

So much for saving to move away from the hellhole she called home. To keep Tyra from lifting a hand, she swiftly turned and ran up the steps. When she reached her bedroom, Essence threw herself on the bed and screamed into a pillow.

At school, Essence was usually the standout student when it came to subjects she loved. She enjoyed history and mathematics because it challenged her more than the likes of science and language arts. Science had always been her least favorite unless they were learning about space and the planets.

In her last semester, they were required to take advanced chemistry which was her least favorite class of the day. It was the only class she had with Erik, who could do the work with his eyes closed.

“Whaaaat, you decided to come to class today,” Essence said to Erik as he drug his feet across the floor and to his desk. “Long time, no see.”

Erik grunted under his breath, throwing his bag to the side and taking his seat. He didn’t even look her direction. Maybe he was tired. Big Chucky kept his dealers up all throughout the night doing his dirty work.

As class went on, Erik was on his phone when the teacher wasn't looking. He typed quickly, sending multiple texts to Chucky and the boys that worked under him. Not paying attention herself, Essence kept her eyes on Erik’s screen, hoping to catch a peek into his new life. With no luck, she went back to taking notes until they had to pair up for classwork.

Erik had been quite distant lately and their friendship had never truly recovered from the two years they lost touch. Essence attributed it to them getting older and simply growing apart but she knew if Big Chucky wasn’t in the picture, they’d be close. Since Erik was rarely around, Essence didn’t get the chance to talk to him much and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

“You going to prom,” she asked, peeking up through her long lashes.

“Yeah probably. You,” Erik replied, working out three formulas in record time. “Who you going with?”

The nerve. Erik had been acting funny all this time only to question her about a date to prom. “With Gregg Patrick,” Essence muttered, staring at the next question on her classwork. What the fuck was this shit? Erik explained the answer and then went on to question her choice to go with Gregg Patrick, captain of the basketball team. “Because I’m grown and can do that. Do I questions your choices in hoes?”

“Dude is wack, that’s all I’m saying,” he explained, a tinge of jealousy present in his statement. “And I don’t have time for hoes. I’m getting this money.”

“What makes him wack, Erik?” Essence propped her chin on her hand, giving Erik her undivided attention. “Exactly, you can’t even give me a reason.”

Truth be told, Erik and Gregg didn’t see eye to eye because Gregg was an enemy on the streets. Essence tried to keep her street knowledge to a minimum because it was easy to get trapped in that life. So many times she was close to jumping in with some of the other kids in her neighborhood that got trapped. Whatever could get her out of the life she lived, she would do to escape to a life she had yearned for.

“Whatever, E. Do you,” Erik shot back. “I’m going with Linda though.”

“Linda? Linda Franklin? What the fuck,” Essence gagged. “Hasn’t that girl been with 10 different dudes in our class?”

“Oh, so you get to go with that punk ass Gregg, but I can’t go with Linda? You are something else, Essence.”

“Your nosey ass was in my business. You act all funny with me but wanna know everything,” Essence argued back with a bit of bite in her voice.

“Act funny? What the hell you talkin’ about,” Erik bit, putting his pen down. Oh, that struck a chord.

“We barely even talk like that anymore because you act funny. Ever since you started hanging with Big Chucky and ‘em,” Essence explained. “Don’t try to act like I’m not telling the truth.”

Erik attempted to act like he was shocked but it quickly turned into him getting defensive, “Man, I been busy. Ain’t nobody acting funny with you, E.”

“Mmmm okay. If lying helps you sleep at night.”

They spent the rest of the class working alone until they heard a commotion outside the door. Students ran to the window, peeking through the blinds and ignoring their teacher’s plea to sit down.

“The police are out there,” DaMia yelled at her classmates, causing everyone to push to get a better look through the small window. “And they got dogs!”

“Shit, I bet they lookin’ for drugs,” Marcus added, pushing Essence to the side. “Ohhhh, somebody is going to jail.”

Somehow Erik and Essence’s eyes met. She said a silent prayer for him and hoped he wasn’t dumb enough to bring drugs to school. He had to be smarter than that right? Erik didn’t appear to be phased by the commotion in the hall. He simply shrugged his shoulders when she mouthed ‘you carrying?’.

Fifteen minutes later, the police were escorting three students down the hall. Essence recognized them as boys that hung around Big Chucky in the neighborhood.

“Damn, I didn’t know Harry was selling,” one of the students mumbled.

Erik glanced at Essence again before returning to his seat in the back of the class. The one day he didn’t bring anything to school, his boys got busted. He wasn’t worried about getting snitched on because no one in the hood snitched. There was an unspoken rule in the streets about snitching on your brothers.

Even though his friends’ lips were most likely zipped, Erik had somewhat of a reality check. That could have easily been him.

Prom. That time of the year where everyone was trying to outdo their peers and spending way too much money to achieve that task. Essence had saved up enough money to buy a prom dress from one of the local thrift shops. One of her friends did small alterations that were good enough to hide the fact that the dress was too large. She rode the bus to the event center where her date, Gregg, was waiting outside. Neither one of them had a car or money to rent one but Essence was fine with how things were. Just as long as she got to attend her senior prom, she was happy with whatever transportation got her there.

“You look beautiful, Essence,” Gregg was in awe of his date. She looked radiant in the hot pink satin. Against her skin, the color popped, making her stand out in the crowd of high schoolers.

“Thank you. I love this tie. Matches my dresses perfectly,” Essence replied, moving her hand along the silk fabric. “You got our tickets?”

“Oh shit,” Gregg’s eyes widened. “I’m kiddin’, I got them.”

Essence slapped his arm, “Don’t play like that. I would have found a way inside, anyway.”

“I’m sure your bad ass would have,” he shook his head in return and led Essence into the event hall.

Their school district didn’t have a large budget when it came to dances and events, but they made sure their students could enjoy things like the other children on the opposite side of town. The hall was decorated to match the deep blue sea. Blue lights made the room resemble the ocean. Fake fish hung from the ceiling and the photobooth resembled a submarine. For a group of children who could barely afford to get into an aquarium, they were excited about the decorations.

For the most part, the night ran smoothly. The food was decent for food served at a high school prom, the DJ was good and people appeared to be enjoying themselves. Essence was sure she sweated her relaxer out from all the dancing she was doing. When it came time for the slow dance, Gregg found his date and pulled her to the middle of the floor. As she wrapped her arms around Gregg’s neck, she caught the eye of Erik who was dancing with Linda’s hoe ass.

Essence smiled slightly and rested her chin on Gregg’s shoulder when he pulled her close. Erik stared a few more seconds before looking away. Essence could feel the tension without him even saying a word. Their relationship had been weird and she still didn’t understand why. They had experienced a tragedy together and instead of staying close, the once best friends barely hung out when they weren’t in class.

“You good,” Gregg asked a zoned out Essence. The song had changed and she was moving offbeat in her own little world. “Essy?”

“Huh….oh yeah, I’m good,” she answered, still thinking about the past few years of her life. High school was about to be over and she wasn’t sure what was next. She had been accepted into a few schools but leaving Chicago was scary. Even when she didn’t have anyone besides her mother who half the time acted as if she didn’t love her. If she left, would she ever return? What about Erik?

“You sure? You keep stepping on my toes,” Gregg chuckled, pulling back to get a good look at Essence. “Don’t tell me you’re falling asleep standing up.”

“No, just enjoying our time,” she answered, returning to Gregg’s shoulder. They weren’t dating but Gregg was a good friend to her the past couple of years. He was moving to Baltimore with his father after graduation.

After their dance, the two separated for the remainder of the night. Gregg went to hang out with his boys and Essence with her two best friends. When the night was over, Gregg said his goodbye and got on a bus to head home while Essence went with a group of girls to a hotel afterparty. Unlike Gregg, Essence didn’t have a curfew because her mother more than likely wasn’t home anyway.

The party wasn’t too wild but Essence kept to herself. She didn’t want to be involved if the cops got called on a bunch of kids drinking underage and using fake ids to get a room. Erik was at the party without his date but Essence still kept her distance. Instead, they watched each other from their corners until Erik sent her a text.

I need to talk to you. Meet me in the room next door.

They had two connecting rooms for the party and everyone was crowded on one side until someone wanted to get freaky. Essence followed Erik into the next room, watching him lock the door behind them.

“What the hell is your problem,” he asked Essence.

Confusion set in because from her experience, he was the one acting an ass. “Huh? What you mean?”

“You’ve been watching me all night like we got beef. What’s up?” Erik settled on the bed while Essence stood by the door. “We not cool anymore or something?”

Was he being serious? Tonight wasn’t the night to argue with Erik over their friendship when he was the distant one. Essence wasn’t going to beg for his attention either. “Are you for real? You wouldn’t have noticed me watching if you weren’t watching me yourself. I told you already. You’ve been acting hella weird with me for no reason. I know we aren’t as close as we used to be but you completely cut me off to hang out with those knucklehead ass boys. So before you come at me for acting a certain way, check your damn self, Stevens.”

That was the second time he had been called out and honestly, he didn’t know how to respond. Time had its impact on their relationship on top of Erik being consumed in what he thought was bettering his life.

Essence sensed his inner turmoil and joined him on the bed. “What’s going on with you, Erik. For real.”

Since his father’s death, Erik had been angry and lonely. Instead of leaning on those who loved him, he took to the streets and made connections there. “I gotta get out of here. There ain’t nothing left here. Done seen two of my boys get popped, some of them in jail… I have a feeling I’m next. Ya know?” Erik kept his eyes on his hands, speaking on his feelings made him uncomfortable. But, he trusted Essence enough to know she wouldn’t judge him. “After my dad got...got killed, I been fucked up. Seeing that shit did something to me and I feel bad because you had to see it too.”

There it was. The main reason he tried to keep his distance was due to guilt. Seeing someone die right in front of her had created anxiety and fear that Essence tried her best to suppress. Erik saw right through her though. It was hard enough on him but he had seen some pretty fucked up things. Essence on the other hand was shielded by her grandmother’s love and promise to keep her safe.

“That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know your uncle-”

“And what if he would have killed you? He was cruel enough to kill his own brother. He could have easily turned the gun on one of us next. I made a promise to protect you and didn’t keep it,” Erik explained. “You see where I’m coming from, E? That shit still messes with me. I’m getting out of here after graduation. Got myself into school and I’m not coming back.”

“You did protect me. You always have and I don’t understand why you couldn’t talk to me about how you felt. All this time I just thought you were being an ass,” Essence replied, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I mean that shit, Erik. I’ve always felt safe with you.”

His eyes finally shot up as the mood shifted. The wall that had formed between them was beginning to crumble and the air didn’t feel as thick. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really,” she whispered.

Erik stared down at Essence’s lips as if he wanted to kiss her. That urge had never been there before and it felt odd. Going against the voice in his head, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips to test the waters. It took Essence by surprise because Erik had never shown interest in her. Maybe he was simply thanking her for being a good friend.

“What was that for,” she asked completely dumbfounded by his actions.

Before he could answer, a banging on the door pulled them away from each other. “Ya’ll fuckin,” one of Erik’s boys yelled. If Essence were lighter, he would see the red rising to her cheeks.

“Dude, shut the fuck up,” Erik growled, pushing his nosey friend away from the door.

They didn’t speak on that kiss for the rest of the night...or ever again.

Two Years Later

After high school graduation, Erik headed to California while Essence headed South to Texas. Not too long after graduation, her mother Tyra was back in jail for fraud, leaving Essence motherless once again. That gave Essence an opportunity to leave her life in Chicago behind to start a new one on her own. For the most part, she was on the right track with a few bumps in the road. To put herself through community college, Essence worked two jobs. Her relationship with Erik was still on the mend, as he navigated school himself. Leaving Illinois was the best decision he had made due to the type of life he was living. Big Chucky still had a hold on the community, forming gangs and selling dope around the neighborhood.

For Spring break, Essence decided to visit Erik in sunny California. She had never been to the west side of the country and was excited about the adventures Erik had planned for the week.

“Boy, open this damn door,” Essence yelled, slapping the door to Erik’s off campus apartment. He opened up, his big Kool-Aid grin on full display. “I think I got the wrong place. My bestie is kinda skinny and can’t grow a beard that connects to save his life. Who are you,” she teased, taking in all the differences in Erik’s appearance. Mini dreads, a full beard and bulging muscles. Under all that, he was still the Erik Stevens she knew from Chi Town.

“Well I’ve never seen you drool over me so maybe you do have the wrong spot,” Erik leaned against the door, looking for any differences in Essence since he last seen her in person two years ago. She was still slim, but her face had matured slightly, her cheeks not as chubby.

“Trust me, I’m not drooling, ugly,” she lied. The two friends fell silent for a short second before bursting out into laughter. “Hey crazy. So good to see you.”

“Likewise, E. It’s been forever,” Erik added, pulling Essence into a tight hug.

Being in each other’s presence made them both feel at home. Home before the tragedy took place and everything changed. They were free to do whatever they wanted. They rode around town blasting their favorite songs and just enjoyed each other’s company. Erik even took Essence to In-N-Out even though it was breaking his strict diet.

After roaming the town for the day, they settled in that night to watch Iron Man, which Essence had seen one too many times already. They were in Erik’s room, with the only television in the apartment. Like old times, they had their movie snacks and were spread out across the bed.

“You bet not touch my candy,” Essence exclaimed, slapping Erik’s hand away.

“Nigga, you been eating my popcorn though,” he argued, taking a few more despite Essence’s protest.

Thirty minutes into the movie, Essence was already leaning on Erik’s shoulder as he sat against the headboard. Usually this meant she was on her way to sleep and he wouldn’t be able to hear the rest of the movie over snores.

“Aye, don’t be falling asleep over there,” he gently tapped Essence with his elbow, interrupting her mini-nap.

“I’m not,” Essence groaned, resting her chin on Erik’s thick shoulder and peering up at him through her lashes. The big difference between now and when they were children was the innocence they held as kids. Now as adults, hormones and the weight of the world was on them. She knew she should have pulled away because they were crossing a line they would never be able to uncross. Essence hated to think that it was impossible to be friends with the opposite sex without being sexually attracted to each other. But it wasn’t all about Erik’s appearance. The way he always wanted to protect her and the genuine love he had for her was what pulled them closer.

This time it wasn’t just a peck and they had no interruptions. Iron Man continued in the background while Erik and Essence began making their own movie….

*record scratches* Oh, you all thought I was going to just give you the full thing right here? We will pick up right where we left off in the next chapter!

Gregg Patrick Faceclaim

Taglist: @theunsweetenedtruth @bakarisangel @supersizemeplz @itsjustshanie @turn-thy-paige @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone @nickidub718 @blackpinup22

#erik stevens #killmonger #erik x oc #black panther #black panther fanfiction #fanfiction #au #could've been #chapter 2

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

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Is there anyone at your work that you want to just deck in the face? * I dont have a job, but there isnt anyone in general that I feel like punching <<< Last thing you drank? Water. Last thing that pissed you off! Health related things. Last thing that made you feel better *sigh* Why the “sigh”? Anyway, a trip to the beach would help. For the time I was there, at least. Something you did differently today that wasn’t so bad It’s only 1:37AM, I haven’t done much so far except for a few surveys. That’s not anything different.

Last plans that were ruined because of things you can’t control My mom and I wanted to visit my aunt a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t able to go because I was having a flare up. How old are you? 30. Someone’s YouTube that annoys the crap out of you I don’t watch any that annoy me. You are lucky because I’m blessed because I have my family, a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, clothes on my back, and food to eat. What kind of jeans are you favorite? Skinny jeans. Man, I haven’t worn jeans in like 2 years, though. I only wear leggings now. Mini skirts, slutty or stylish? They can be cute, but it’s not my style. I don’t feel comfortable wearing them. Do you like a partner who is clean cut or rugged? Clean cut, but I do like some scruff. Pale or tan, which would you rather be? I’d like to be tan. What if you were drastically what you’d rather be overnight? Cool. Habit with health concerns by society that u have Uhh. Do smartass sarcastic old folks piss you off? * Idk. I kind of enjoy the “smartass” personality bc its amusing as long as it isnt malicious. My old friend Denise was such a smartass and I loved her <<< Yeah, I get what you mean. It depends. What about little kids that want to be gangstas? Just stop. What do you think about Hipster? I don’t care. Scene? Is that still a trend? I feel like I don’t see it anymore, but maybe that’s because I’m old now. What do you think about “Juggalos” and “Juggalettes”? I don’t get the whole Insane Clown Posse thing. lol that’s funny. Something that you won’t even try No other drug besides weed, which I’ve done. Do u blog? You’re lookin’ at it. Tweet? Yeah. FB? I rarely post anything anymore, but I scroll the feed and like some stuff here. Myspace? Myspace has been dead for a long time, time to let go. What do you think about that G6 song? It’s old now, but still catchy. Is walking cats strange? ( like walking dogs ) That does seem weird. What about kids on leashes? What do you think about that? I mean, I can see how it would be helpful. In a super crowded place, it would be easy to lose grip of their little hand and it would get very tiring pretty quick if you had to carry them. Strollers can be a nuisance in really crowded places too, so for a toddler I can see the benefit of the leash. Only for that age group, though. We are all the same is bullshit is it not? Clearly we’re not all the same. Will the world end in 2012? That’s next year. That was 7 years ago and we’re still here. No one but God knows when the world will end. What lip balm do you use to keep your lips moist? EOS. I bought a vaseline lip balm recently, but I haven’t used it, yet. How many piercings have you had, BESIDES ears, no one cares. Well that’s all I got, sorry. New tats in your near future? I don’t have any tats. I’ve wanted 1 for several years, but I doubt I’ll ever get it done. How about piercings or re-piercings? No. Who would you like to hang out with? No one. Next new thing you are wanting to try! Nothing comes to mind right now. If your skinny you are underweight true or false? You can be thin but not underweight. I’m underweight, though. Being told to eat more is as offensive as being told to eat less. TF? I just hate it because it’s like clearly it’s an issue for me. It’s not that easy. If I could just “eat more”, I would. It’s not that simple. Even if I could eat more, I’d still have a hard time putting on weight. I have a fast metabolism, so I’ve always been thin, but not as thin as I am now. That happened due to health reasons and because of that I haven’t been able to gain any weight. It’s been a real struggle these past few years with health issues and eating/appetite issues on top of it. Would you wear short shorts, long socks and converse? No. Do converse look/feel uncomfortable to you? I like them. Your young but your life isn’t distracted by a cell phone. TF? I’m 30, I’m old. What kind of deodorant do you use? Secret in powder fresh scent. Thing that bothers you. A lot of things. A dream of yours. I just want to be in a good place health wise. Can one create a masterpiece with a ballpoint pen? Yeah? Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side. He crossed over. He died. Do you say sorry a lot? Yes. Do you believe that you can feel energy from others from their thoughts? Not from their thoughts, I can’t get inside someone’s head, but I feel their energy through other things. Would you ever visit a psychic medium? No. If you would, what would you wanna know? Absolutely nothing. I don’t believe in that stuff. Do you get creeped out easily? You could say that. Ever scared the crap out of someone and laughed hysterically after? Yes. Do you type homerow? No. Are some days a waste of makeup? I very rarely wear makeup anymore. It’s been awhile. I don’t know if I have at all this year... Do you have acne? I’ll get a pimple or two now and then. I had it worse as a teenager and in my early 20s. Then it just cleared up, thankfully. My skin is still shitty, though. It’s so dry. Halloween costume. I don’t dress up anymore for Halloween. Diet soda yay or nay? I can drink Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper. I’d rather just drink the regular kind, though. Would you buy a Coach bag? No.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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buckyscrystalqueen · 5 years

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Bad Things: Part 2

Pairings: Alpha!Negan x Omega Porn Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, sex slavery, mentioned abuse, medical emergency, seizure

Word Count: 4,344

A/N: I was going to write a nice, peaceful story for @ne-gans challenge… two adult actors fall in love, and it’s so beautiful….. But then this happened. And it’s fucking glorious. (I’m also not sorry.)

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were sitting on the upper deck, watching the yacht cruise across the Pacific Ocean, in silent shock. Your bother’s music and the sounds of all your friends partying echoed across the water as they celebrated the multimillion dollar contract Kels had just signed with Negan’s label. You wanted to join him and celebrate the good news as well, but something prevented that from happening. Fear of what Matthew could do to you once he found you. Fear of what he would do to your only family member, or your friends. Fear of what he could do to your mate.

“There you are.” Negan said softly as he came around the corner with a blanket, and a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice. “I was wondering where you had escaped to.”

“Not many places to hide.” You said as you adjusted your oversized sweater on your shoulders. “Though that’s not what I was intentionally doing, anyways.” He nodded and put the ice bucket in its holder before gesturing you forward.

“Come here, Omega.” He breathed as he sat down behind you and easily pulled you into his lap. He flicked the blanket out in front of you and pulled it up over your lap, making sure you were completely covered to block out the slight nip in the salty ocean air. As he kissed your temple and wrapped you in his arms, you let out a small sigh and shed a single tear at the gentleness of it.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You whispered as you laid your head on his shoulder and curled into his chest. “It’s so weird how my life played out. One minute we were traveling all over the world with our parents, and the next thing you know, mom took off, we moved in with our aunt. Then the fighting started, dad took off, and Kels just kinda jumped off the deep end. My aunt was threatening every day to kick us out unless he got his shit together and before I knew it, I was on the streets.”

“I won’t let that shit happen to you again, baby girl.” Negan promised as he tilted his head to see your face.

“Negan, I’m scared.” You whispered as tears started to slide down your cheeks. “What if he…”

“He will never come near you again, Omega. I swear on my fucking life. My job, as your Alpha, is to protect you and I’ll be fucking damned if I fail at my fucking job. You will be safe. Period. No matter what.”

“But what about my brother?” You asked as hysteria started to slip in. “Or my friends. What if he goes after them?”

“He won’t be able to, ‘mega.” He soothed as he cupped your jaw in his large hand. “Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath.” You nodded your head and did what he asked. “Good girl.” He said with a nod as he mimicked taking another deep breath again.

“Now, first of all, do you really think that fucking asshat is going anywhere near your fucking brother? That kid fucking stood up to me with full intention of knocking my ass out just for touching you. Do you think, now that he knows you’re fucking safe with me, that he’s gunna let your fucking manager come near him?” You shook your head as he fixed the blanket around your shoulders when a gust of wind blew across the deck. “And after what I heard he did to you, do you honestly think I would let him stay in fucking business so he can keep hurting other women the same fucking way?” You shook your head again, and curled into him a bit more to stay warm, and to feel the protection you needed.

“No, I’m not gunna let that shit fucking happen. I don’t give a fucking fuck. As of today, my fucking label just branched out into fucking porn. Fuck it. Because I will fucking buy out every mother fucking contract I need to to protect men and women, no matter their fucking status, that are going through the shit you went through, baby girl. I don’t fucking tolerate people who exploit other people for their own benefit. That mother fucker has another fucking thing coming to him. I promise you that.” He searched your eyes and smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair and pulled it all back over your shoulders. “You’re OK now, baby girl. And fuck if I ain’t the luckiest fucking man in the entire world that you’re my Omega.” You choked on your laugh and quickly hid your face in his chest just as Kels came to find you.

“Hey!” He barked, causing you to sit up, and look over at him. “You havin’ a fucking drink with me or what? You’re being a shitty sister right now.” You smirked as you reached back to grab the bottle of champagne, and purposely popped the top right at him, hitting him directly in the chest.

“Congrats, Kels.” You said as you held the bottle away from you over the table so it didn’t get you or your Alpha. Your brother smiled, and nodded as he came over, flopped down on the long, ‘U’ shaped couch beside you, and passed you a joint. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Wanted to surprise you.” He said as he waited for you to pass back the joint before handing you one of the four glasses he had in his hands since he didn’t know how many people you were with. “Figured you’d be happy for me.”

“I am.” You said with a nod as you handed your Alpha his glass before leaning back into his chest for the warmth and taking the joint back. “But you lied to your baby sister, and that’s not very nice, Kels.”

“Boo hoo.” He teased as he stretched out across the couch, and looked up at the starry night sky. “Damn. This is some fucking first class living right here.”

“Takes a lot of fucking work.” Negan said as he rubbed your back softly, shaking his head when you offered him the smoke. “Lots of fucking hard work. But you’re on the right fucking track.” You nodded in agreement as Kels took a gulp of his drink.

“Had a lot to fight for.” He said as he looked over at you and took back the joint. “You and Casie.”

“How is my niece, anyways?”

“She’s good.” He smiled and looked over at you. “Excited to spend a few days on the bus with Auntie (Y/N).” You sighed and rolled your eyes with a smile as you took the joint one last time.

“Didn’t realize she was in town, too. You’re really fucking killin it, here, Coulson.”

“Bite me.” He said as he poured all three of you more champagne while you took a final drag. “Her moms is in town for work day after tomorrow. We’re picking up Casie from the airport on the way back to Cleveland.”

“Good. I got a bunch of new makeup she will have fun destroying.”

“Come on, now.” Kels said as he topped off his glass, traded you what was left of the joint for a cigarette, and got up to rejoin the party. “She’s fucking ten. My baby girl is a straight G when it comes to making up her face now. Bloom.”

“You a big smoker?” Negan asked as he pulled a Zippo lighter from his pocket to light your cigarette for you. You shook your head, and inhaled deeply.

“Not supposed to because of my contract.” You said as he knocked on the window of the wheelhouse and told whoever stepped out the door to bring you an ashtray. “I smoke when I’m with Coulson but not on a regular basis.” Negan nodded as he took the ashtray from his employee and set it on the table where you could reach it easily.

“I don’t want you living by that fucking contract any more.” He said as he pulled your hand toward him to take a drag of his own. “You wanna smoke, do it. You do whatever the fuck you wanna do, baby girl. And you’re coming off those fucking suppressants when you get back from Cleveland. I won’t have my Omega killing herself to hide who she is, you hear me?” You nodded your head as you ashed that cigarette before leaning into his chest again.

“Yes, Alpha.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, Casie. We got this.” You said as you pulled your ten year old niece on to your lap, despite the aching pains you had been feeling all day, so that both of you could see the TV to play Mario Kart against Kels, and his drummer, Rook.

“Oh, you two are fucking going down!” Your brother said as he grabbed his controller, and flopped down on the corner of the ‘u’ shaped couch that took up the whole back part of his tour bus.

“Nu uh!” Casie yelled as she looked up at you to make sure you could see around her giant, curly haired bun, and leaned back against your chest. “You’re gunna lose, dad!”

“Yea, dad!” You taunted as Rook came running back from the bathroom with his remote under his chin as fast as the moving bus would allow him. Kels threw a mini Oreo at your head and you whacked him in the arm as hard as you could as Casie picked her character, Peach, first, per the unofficial bus rules. Once she was locked in, you chose Mario before Rook could, Kels grabbed Bowser, and Rook finally settled on Yoshi.

“Alright, no fucking cheating.” You said with a glare over at your brother as your niece choose the track, another unofficial bus rule.

“You’re to talk!” Rook said as he sat in the only available spot between the two Baker kids, which was the worst seat on the bus when the pair of you were playing against each other. “You abusive little bitch.”

“You’re just mad you always get beat by the girls.” You said as the game started counting down. You held the controller in your left hand and not so subtly grabbed a pillow.

“Don’t do it!” Rook shouted as the game started and you and your brother both whacked each other and poor Rook with a pillow. He growled, and tried to duck as you shoved your brother into the wall of the bus as he tried to catch up to his daughter on the screen.

“Go, Casie, go!” You cheered as you grabbed your remote, and took off across the track.

“Such a fucking cheater!” Kels said as you cut him off, and stole the box he had been aiming for. You smirked and stuck your tongue out at him as you zipped ahead with your star powers and caught up to your niece. You would never, ever dare to pass her because you always worked as a team so you stayed right behind her to keep Kels from taking her first place spot.

“Both of you suck.” Rook complained.

“Y’all are so damn competitive, it’s disgusting.” Ace laughed as he played cards with Slim.

“It’s a family thing.” Kels said as he hit the buttons on his controller as fast as he could to hit your character with a turtle shell. He hissed a ‘yes’ when Mario went flying into the air, and poor Rook jumped to his feet to avoid getting hit when you punched your laughing brother in the arm.

“Got you, dad!” Casie scolded as she ran him off the rainbow bridge, causing you to laugh, obnoxiously, at his expense.

“Oh, I’m coming for you now, Casie.” He said as he got up on his knees as the game announced the final lap.

“Go, baby go!” You cheered as you tried to block Kels’ car with yours. You had him pinned up against the track’s walls until almost the very end when both your hands seized. The remote fell to Casie’s lap as she crossed the finish line in first place, and your brother’s head whipped over to you, instantly.

“Fuck, not again.” He said as he tossed his remote on the couch. “Cas, get up!”

“Coul… C-c-c…” You tried as your muscles started to lock up, and spasm simultaneously.

“I know.” Kels said as he shoved everything off the couch onto the floor. “Casie, go get (Y/N)’s blue bag.” His daughter nodded as she turned, and ran off while Slim and Kels tried to straighten your limbs out and lay you down before the seizure started. “So fucking over this shit.”

“N… N…” You tried you tried to focus your vision on anything in the room.

“Casie, you gotta fucking hurry baby!” Kels yelled as he grabbed your bottom jaw to keep it open so you could breathe.

“Here.” She said as she held out the bag and climbed onto the couch to hold your head in her lap so it wouldn't hit the back of the couch. Your brother ripped the zipper open with his teeth as Slim and Ace held you on your side as the seizure, caused by not having a heat in the past ten years and the chemical imbalance due to your meds, started to roll through your body.

“Thanks, baby.” Kels said as he grabbed a syringe and passed it and a bottle of liquid Ativan to Rook. “Two mig’s.” The drummer nodded as your brother kneeled down on the ground in front of you, grabbed a thick, rubber mouth guard from the bag, and wedged it between your teeth so you wouldn’t break your teeth or bite through your tongue when your jaw clenched. His chest heaved painfully as he gasped for air, hating that he had to watch you go through this yet again.

“Here.” Rook said as he held out the full syringe.

“Alright, here we go.” Kels said over the inhuman noise you were making as he ripped down the sleeve of your sweater and gave you the shot that would only temporarily help. “Here we go, it’s almost done, babe. Shhh…” He nodded his head and moved so he was directly in front of your face as he loosely held the back of your head with one hand and used the other to keep your mouth open to breathe. He kept talking to you while Casie kept brushing her hand through your hair as your seizure subsided.

“Do we need to find a hospital?” Ace asked as Kels pulled the mouth guard from your mouth when you stopped spasming .

“Na, she’ll make it to Cleveland.” He said as he put his hand on the side of your face and head so you knew he was there. “Someone find me her phone though.”

“Dad, the blanket.” Casie said as she pointed it out to him. He nodded as he grabbed the fabric and passed it to her so she could help him.

“C… Coul…” You tried as you began to shiver violently.

“I’m right here.” He said as he rubbed the side of your face. “You’re alright, sweetheart. I got you.” He looked over when someone tapped his arm and grabbed your phone from Slim’s hand. “We’re gunna get you to Cleveland, (Y/N). Take you to the hospital there.” You nodded subtly as he unlocked your cell and found Negan’s number, knowing you’d want your Alpha to be there when you got to the hospital. He propped the phone up to his ear with his shoulder, and grabbed your blue bag off the floor to find the sugar cubes you kept in there.

“Negan? It’s Kels. Look, figured you would want to know, (Y/N)’s having another seizure fit from her meds. We’re gunna take her to Cleveland Clinic. Should be there in a couple hours.” He looked down at you with a sigh, put a small, broken piece of the cube on your lips, and nodded his head as you looked up at him with wide, panicked eyes. Without a word, he pulled his hand away from your head to grab your phone. “She won’t be able to answer, but she can hear you.” He said before putting the call on speaker, and laying the phone in front of your face. “Go ahead.”

“Hey, baby girl.” Negan said, as calmly as he could over the sound of him scrambling to get the paperwork he would need into his briefcase. “I’m gunna meet you at the hospital, OK? You’re gunna be alright, just keep breathing for me.” You tried to nod your head, unsuccessfully, as your whole body tensed, and relaxed a few times. “You should feel special, Omega. I don’t ever do the fucking snow if I can avoid it. Shit’s fucking cold. I’m much fucking happier in warm, sunny California. But, just for you, I’ll endure the damn snow. I’m coming, (Y/N). I’m on my fucking way.” You nodded your head half an inch, as your eyes drifted closed in exhaustion. You let out a throaty ‘un’ as a response before falling into a fitful sleep.

“She’s asleep.” Kels said as he sat down in front of the couch with his arm in front of your body as he picked the phone back up and took it off speaker. “This is the shit I was fucking talking about.”

“I’m taking care of it.” Negan growled as he got in the elevator to head down to his car. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Keep her phone on you.” Your brother nodded as the two Alpha’s hung up simultaneously.

“Is that guy gunna stop Aunt (Y/N)’s fits?” Casie asked as she carefully moved out from under your head, and put a pillow down in her place.

“I sure fucking hope so, baby girl.” Kels said as he ran his hand over his hair. “I sure fucking hope so.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leather, whiskey, and aftershave. It made you feel calm despite the amount of pain you were in. You whined, wishing that there was something you could do to get away from the pain but there wasn’t much you could do about it.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Negan said softly before your eyes even opened as he got up from the chair he had been sitting in for two days, watching you go through multiple fits that he could do nothing about. He smiled when you finally opened your eyes, sat down on the bed beside you, and pulled the blanket he had brought you from his bed up to your chin for you. “You’re alright, Omega.” Tears welled in your eyes, and you shook your head, disrupting the nasal cannula that was giving you extra oxygen.

“No.” You croaked as he picked up your hand, and put it on his thigh so you knew he was there. He shushed you softly as he cupped your jaw in his hand to fix your oxygen, and you instinctively turned your nose into his wrist, preventing him from doing so.

“You’re alright now, baby.” He said as he brushed your hair back with his other hand while you burst into tears. “I’m here. But you gotta fucking breathe for me.” You nodded against his palm as he finally put your oxygen back on.

“Negan.” You cried as you wrapped your sore fingers around the fabric of his dress pants.

“You gotta breathe.” He repeated in his Alpha tone. “Breathe Omega, or I will go sit back down in my chair until you do.” You nodded and finally took a deep, shaky breath. He nodded his head and smiled as you repeated the action and looked up at him through your tears. “Good. I’m gunna go get the doc while you keep taking deep breaths. I'm coming right back.” You nodded again as he carefully loosened your grip on his slacks and put your hand back down on the bed. “You stay calm, now.” With one more nod, he stepped out of your hospital room to find your doctor. You closed your eyes and tried to piece together the past couple days. That was another down side to your fits; losing days of your life to blackouts.

“Ms. Baker?” A beta woman said as she came into the room. You opened your eyes and nodded as a tall woman in a white coat walked in to your room behind your mate. “It’s good to see you awake. My name is Doctor Wilson. I just wanted to come touch base with what happened, and how we’re going to treat you from here.”

“I have fits.” You said as you looked away from her.

“Omega, it is not just fucking fits.” Negan scolded as he stood on the other side of the bed. “Listen to her. She’s helping.” You nodded and looked back up at the doctor.

“(Y/N), in the course of the past three days, you have had six seizures, as a side effect of these suppressants you have been on.” You nodded at her as she picked up the half empty blister pack Kels had given her when he brought you in, and showed it to you. “Personally, I haven’t seen this brand on the shelves of a pharmacy for Omega’s in at least a decade because the severe side effects…”

“My old manager got them in bulk from Mexico.” You whispered as you looked down at your hands in shame. “He made us take them.” Negan growled beside you as the doctor looked at you in horror.

“I’m sorry. He made you?” The doctor asked.

“It’s a long, long fucking story that I have a group of LA’s best lawyers looking into.” Negan said as he reached down to hold your hand so you would stop picking at your thumbnail.

“God, I sure hope you win that case.” Dr. Wilson said as she put the pills back under the clasp of her clipboard to dispose of. “At any rate, we now have to get you off these medications, and either put you on a better suppressant that doesn’t have the extreme side effects, or take you off suppressants completely. That, however, is your choice…”

“Off.” You said with zero hesitation. “I want to be off of them.” Dr. Wilson glanced up at Negan for his agreement, and nodded with him as she pulled a pen from her coat pocket, and made a note in your chart.

“Alright. Well fortunately, at three days out, we’ve passed the half life of the drug. So getting the rest of it out of your system is just a matter of time. However, there are so many side effects to being on this particular medication long term that we just don’t know about. Blood clots, heart attack, stroke, inability to conceive, ovarian cysts…”

“Enough.” Negan said, shortly when you squeezed his hand, and whined nervously. The doctor looked up at him as he stepped forward and sat down on the bed beside you, protectively. “Enough. She didn’t have a fucking choice in taking those fucking pills, and any fucking side effects she has because of them, will be addressed by the best damn doctors in the fucking world. No use trying to further traumatize an already terrified Omega.”

“My apologies.” Dr. Wilson said with a nod as Negan covered you with his blanket again so you would feel safe surrounded by his scent. “Well, Ms. Baker, we’d like to keep you here for a few more days to monitor your wellbeing. The concern we have, of course, is your first heat.”

“Is she stable enough to be transferred?” Negan asked as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “No offense meant to your fine establishment, but I’d prefer to have my Omega closer to home.”

“She can be transferred.” The doctor said with a nod as she closed your chart. “But it is something we need to confirm with her brother, first. Unfortunately, that’s hospital policy with unclaimed Omegas.” Negan nodded his head and looked over at you with a smile.

“I’ll let you choose, Omega. You can stay here near Kels, or we can go back home.”

“I wanna go home.” You said as you laid your head back against the pillow. “Please, Alpha.” He nodded his head and gave you a reassuring smile before looking back up at the doctor.

“I’ll go put in the transfer orders, and confirm with Mr. Baker.” She said with a nod. “I’ll just need the name of the hospital…”

“It’ll be a home address.” Negan said as he pulled his hand free of yours for a moment to get a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. “I already have a call in to an Omega specialist from Europe that’s just waitin’ on my call and my primary doctor is also waiting to monitor her wellbeing through her recovery.” Dr. Wilson nodded once more, and took the paper with Negan’s home address to add it to your chart.

“Alright. Let me make a few phone calls, and get your paperwork in order, and we’ll get you squared away. I’ll be back.” You said a soft ‘thank you’ to her back as Negan came back over and sat down beside you.

“Don’t you listen to a fucking word she had to say.” He said as he cupped your jaw again. “You’re gunna be just fucking fine, baby girl.”

“But what if she’s right?” You whispered as tears filled your eyes. “What if I can’t give you pups…”

“Then we don’t have pups.” He said simply as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Or we fucking adopt. Omega, I don’t need pups to be happy if I have you in my life.” You nodded your head but closed your eyes as you leaned into his touch. He sighed as he leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead. “You’re gunna be just fine, baby girl. Let’s just get you home.”

Part 3

#Negan x Reader #Bad Things #Alpha Negan x omega reader #Alpha Negan #lisas4.5kwritingchallenge #Negan's thirst squad #Negan thirst squad

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