#so i picked that option and this bitch fucking APPROVED. told me he was going to have to work harder to keep up with his competition

[theygender]

Apparently the scene you get with Shadowheart if you get her approval all the way up and then tell her you want to get to spend time with her is the same one you're supposed to get at the tiefling party, which means if you trigger it early you may not get any scene with her at the party at all. This made things pretty confusing when I showed up expecting to advance my romance with her and instead she just gave me some generic "lol wine is good huh" dialogue meanwhile every other companion* BUT her was actively trying to jump my bones... Literally just had to beat everyone else off of my Tav with a stick and then go to bed alone 😔

*Except Lae'zel, who instead went on an unprompted rant about how she knew I wanted to fuck her sooo bad but I had Pissed Her Off by making her be Nice to People so now she would NEVER allow me the pleasure of having crazy hot githyanki sex with her. (She propositioned me a few days later anyways)

#i seem to have accidentally started a romance with lae'zel astarion AND gale in addition to shadowheart 😭 #like the next day i had a notice to talk with astarion and it was the scene where hes talking about not being able to see his reflection #and it was literally like dodging fucking bullets trying to pick an option that wasnt flirting #i ended up having to pick some mean dialogue that was like 'maybe its for the best youre not exactly aging gracefully' #bc the ONLY other two options were like 'tell him you think hes beautiful' and 'gaze lovingly into his eyes' or some shit #and i was like '...okay im picking the mean one but i mean it as a joke. maybe it can be a joke' and i picked it an he was all horrified #but then the next dialogue gave me an option to say 'lol im just kidding' and i was like PHEW #but then he just went back to being fucking flirty again and was like 'really~ well then tell me what you like about me the most' or smth #and i was like FUCK. NO #but then the next dialogue tree in addition to having the normal flirty options had three additional options #that were like 'youre fine. but lae'zel/gale/shadowheart? now theres real beauty' #and i was like. fuckin. OKAY #ill wonder wtf those other two are doing there later but for now ill pick the one where i tell him in interested in shadowheart #so i picked that option and this bitch fucking APPROVED. told me he was going to have to work harder to keep up with his competition #like SIR. what do you MEAN competition. i let you bite me ONE time bc you said you were dying of thirst and i wanted to help a bro out #and then the next morning i immediately told you i didnt like it and i never wanted it to happen again #what do you mean competition dude you arent even on my radar 😭 im a DYKE #and why were lae'zel and gale there as options too?? #the next night i got gales weave scene where he shows my character how to use magic #(my tav was pretty unimpressed as a fellow mage tbh but hes my friend and i was being polite) #and when i clicked the option to clearly say at the end that i was not interested in having an intimate moment with gale #he got all misty eyed and was like 'oh how quickly these moments fade away...' #like bro the moment didnt fade away i politely shut it down on purpose bc im not interested. what are you talking about #and THEN i got lae'zel trying to fuck me and when i turned her down she gave me the exact same dialogue #about how i would miss out on having hot githyanki sex with her. AGAIN #yall im JUST trying to romance shadowheart 😭 leave me alone #if anyone else is gonna try to trap me into flirting with them then at least let it be karlach next time please 😭🙏 #(ill come back for lae'zel on another playthrough bc being between her and shadowheart sounds like a safety hazard tbh) #rambling

[morgana-ren]

Sounds like I missed put on Zevran. I went into my first DAO playthrough blind and Alistair broke my Dalish heart. Didn't even mean to romance him, couldn't stand him in the beginning, then all of the sudden he got really sweet and I fell. Still working that out in therapy tbh. Also there is no way in heaven, hell, or purgatory that Morrigan is straight, IDC what the code says.

That is literally what I said. I played through the game mostly blind, and only found out a little bit in that I couldn't romance Morrigan because I couldn't initiate her romance, looked it up online, and was told she was straight. I think I went "What a waste" outloud. Both for my playthrough, and for her lmao.

Then I accidentally fell in with Alistair because he gave me a flower and it was really sweet. I had my romance with him for a bit, picked up Zevvy, and then did the whole stupid landsmeet. He broke it off with me, and boy, I was pissed. He wasn't even my type but I gave him a chance because he was so nice and funny-- and then he breaks it off with me because I'm an elf. I called him a little bitch and stopped bringing him anywhere. I genuinely started to like him but all of that went down the drain, even though I technically realized why he broke it off. He asked me to be his mistress and I believe I spit in his face.

I started travelling with Zevran, and we fell in, and boy, I rectified the Alistair mistake fast. I fell hard and fast for Zevran, he confessed (probably a little quicker than he was supposed to because I was most of the way through the game at that point) and then... I died fighting the demon. He was heartbroken. I moved on to DA:2 and it the scene with him is kinda sad when you die. Alistair was also all mopey over it, but fuck him tbh.

This playthrough, I went straight for Zevran (both ways lmao.) He was already at full approval and we were doing the dating thing and I guess it initiated a romance with Alistair too?? (Even though I deliberately avoided those options.) I told Zevran he was the only one for me and busted it off with Alistair because fuck you, dude. Now Alistair is all snarky and shitty with Zevran over it and keeps grilling him for his intentions. Mate, Zevran won't leave because I'm an elf. Get blasted, Ali. My warden stays with him forever and won't die this time.

Honestly, go for Zevran. Like the second he joins the party. 11/10 totally worth it, husband for the ages. He even proposes, technically, and he will stay with you for life. I think it's actually mentioned in the other games as well if you do, especially when he shows up. He'll tell anyone who hits on him that he is 'committed elsewhere' which really sends Isabela for a ride. No one ever thought they'd see Ol' Zevvy tied down I guess, but I managed it.

#morgana and friends

[wyrmskulls]

End game spoilers.

Here is what happened for me and how I feel.

I had shit for Charisma as a Monk sooooo I had a rough time with Companions.

1) Wyll broke his contact, we saved his dad, and I made the choice not to go after the Dragon, my thought being- I think we have this without help. let leave the dragon for the next threat. (He was just one line at the docks in the end.... so not sure there. still wanna toss his dad in the harbor ngl)

2) I let Shadowheart make all her own choices. She chose not to kill the Nightsong, she choose for her parents to die. (My partner got her to keep her folks alive in their run.... and that felt better to me. so, oops.) She wasn't at the dock at all in the end weirdly.

3) I always told Karlach to live, I noticed the thing Companions asking for is not the choice they need but the choice they want. So I kept telling her No, bitch you are going to live. Only for her to die on the docks. I at some point started thinking about irl people who want to die thier own way... and I'll admit the thought of begging her to stay instead of just being with her as she died, sounded so selfish to emotional compromised me. (but this still feels really bad)

Those were the 3 of the main 6 not in my party, the whole game. I did pull them into the party for their story's where possible. These 3 had the lowest approvals but they were far from negative.

4)Laezel was hard, she was in my party the whole game but I didn't do the temple/creche by the time I went to go do it, Halsin was threatening to leave the party if we left the Shadowlands. So that all fine, but I really wanted to make it up to her, we got the orphuc hammer but had no way to the prism till the last minute. It was free the prince then or never. We freed him, only for him to get mad we didnt do it sooner. I was like, um, we couldn't break your bonds without the hammer we went to do get. So even your honor gaurd would have failed. Needless to say I was miffed, only to find out we NEEDED an illithad to over power the brain.... and the choice was the prince or me. Sorry bud but it's YOU. So at the end on the dock He gale Laezel his dragon and asked her to free their people and for Tav to kill him. This weird, but again was what laezel said she wanted, in my head such a strong warrior could do worse then becoming the rebel leader, so I let her go. Again it left selfish to ask her to stay while her people suffered, and I was still torn on the asking me to sacrifice Tavs soul for everyone on top of the rest of it.... so not 100% happy here either.

5)Astarion I romanced his ass, and convinced him not only are his siblings and the souls trapped for the ritual like him, but Tav was like them. This felt good at the time... but him running for cover on the docks and everyone being fine with is SUCKED. had a after scene with him, we agreed to look for a way to walk in the light together. it was sweet but my contingency plan was gale annnnd-

6) Gale. I'll admit having an Ex saying kys was like enrageing for me. I was mad, even when Gale wasn't, I was mad cause Gale wasn't. And I held that anger. I think I picked too many 'tell Mystar to fuck herself' options cause that turned quickly into "I want to be a God too" and like, NO Gale. You are a good human, and Gods are NOT people. I like him as people, I would want him or Astarion on a power trip, I like them as they are. So it was upsetting to see Gale continue to be sure he'd take the known for himself. I passed a DC 30 check to try and conive him not to do the thing, only for him on the docks to be like "I'm going fishing for the crown, and I'm disappointed you don't support me" I didn't change my mind.... ((to be fair I've been dressing him in drow camp wear and this

most of act 3.... so I was dressing him for the evil God job he wants the whole time)) I'm the most unhappy about this ending honestly.

yha I could scum save and try to alter it, but I've been trying not to, and this is where I'm at. But now weirdly I'm looking back at Gale and liking him less because of it. He was so helpful in fights and just a joy, but now it feels weirdly like betrayal, like he was pulling an Astarion all along.

I know he wasn't but that's how it feels he feel bad now in a weird way.

that's Mt thoughts firt play through time for a durge run so I can take some more Spoiler tags off lol.

#bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #wyrmskulls #spoilers #end game

[thran-duils]

Was Ich Liebe (P.1)

Title: Was Ich Liebe (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark.  Tony becomes enamored with a stripper at a club his hedonistic friend Thor owns. A casual sexual relationship quickly becomes possessive and the reader sees more of the underground mafia life than she would like to. The cherry on top is that Tony is married and so is she. Him to a woman who has no intention of losing her throne at any cost and the reader to a deadbeat alcoholic. Feeling trapped by both her previous life and the suffocating hold Tony is trying to put on her, the reader steals away in the night, which is not going to go over well. Words: 4,301 Warnings (for whole fic, more may be added): Dub-con, smut, infidelity, stripping, vaginal fingering, public sex, possessive behavior, angst, degradation kink, violence, physical abuse, domestic violence, language, drug use, alcoholism, death Author’s Note: I did not have the ability to do a one shot. As usual, this is 18+.

Intro || Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Your legs and core were burning as you ended your routine to “Walk” by Pantera. You slowly slid down the pole as it was coming to an end, ending in a deep squat at the end, ass towards the crowd.

Turning back against the lights shining at you, you crawled on your knees seductively taking bills being held out and swiping up ones that had been tossed.

The tips were good tonight. You swiped your top from the ground you had thrown off halfway through much to the pleasure of the crowd, showing off your glow in the dark skull hand pasties. Happy autumn. And you walked off, holding your cash and looking forward to switching back to six inch heels to walk around now that your set was over.

Fixing your winged eyeliner, you spotted Thor coming in through the door to the dressing room. Everyone straightened up at his presence. He came straight over to you though. “Perle room, Y/N.”

That was a private customer room. It was easier being on the stage because you were blinded from the crowd for a lot of it with the lights. One on one was harder to dissociate since they were the only other soul in the room.

“You’re picking the songs. He paid for three.”

That was always a gamble; depending on what genre the customer liked, it could go up or down hill really quick.

Thor leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “And he’s a friend of mine, so behave, you hear? Make sure he leaves satisfied. He loves ass so grind, yeah?”

A friend of his was shady no doubt. But you nodded, making eye contact through the mirror. Thor smirked before planting a kiss on your temple.

“Good set by the way.”

“Thank you,” you said as he straightened up and turned to leave you.

Shit. That meant you needed to change. Which is why you always brought an extra set of lingerie. You went to your locker and pulled out the black set.

<><><>

Since it was going to be more intimate, you chose “Was Ich Liebe” by Rammstein to start. It would allow a lot of grinding.

When you walked in, he was already sitting on the opposite of the dark room in the black light. Even in the darkness, you recognized the man. It was not hard to do so with his high standing in the mob.

Tony Stark.

He was to be treated like a high-ranking customer and you were doing to do that.

You started on the pole, circling slowly before climbing and hooking your leg to spin controlled around.

Sliding down, you crawled on all fours to him, pulling yourself up by holding onto his knees that were already spread in anticipation of you. Turning around you ground your ass into his pelvis. Leaning back your face brushed his.

“What’s your name?” he breathed into your ear. You told him your fake name and his lips tugged up at the corner briefly. “You’re real name, sweetheart.”

“That is my real name.”

He chuckled, his nose nuzzling into your neck. “If you insist so, sweetheart.”

You fell into the music, alternating between him and the pole. Your second song started, “Problem” by Natalia Kills.

You moved back to his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs as you grinded. Which was okay until his fingers slipped past your thong, cupping your sex as you ground into him. You lost rhythm with your lap dance and his breath was hot at your ear. “Just like that, keep going. You are doing beautifully.”

Men getting handsy in the private rooms was not unusual. Especially not ones who paid like he had but you workers knew to dispel it as much as possible. Do not let them get too bold.

You had to be crafty about how you maneuvered out of the situation though. He was Thor’s friend and you knew he was powerful. You resumed grinding, and his nose brushed your neck, inhaling deeply. His fingers threatened to push in and you reacted quickly. You moved out of his lap to dip down in your dancing, forcing his hand away. You were still doing what Thor wanted, giving him a good show. Your hands gripping your ankles, you moved your ass in rhythm with the song.

Tony was not going to be deterred though. Gripping your hips firmly, he pulled you back into his lap with a rough tug. He forced your legs open again and his hand was snaking past your panties again.

As the song sang about claiming your body, Tony’s fingers slid into your pussy and you jumped away from his embrace. You stood a couple feet away, holding your arms tightly around yourself. He was frozen, looking at you expectantly.

“You… you’re not supposed to touch us. It’s against the rules,” you told him, keeping the tremor out of your voice miraculously. You knew what trouble could come from denying a man like him.

Tony brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off slowly, tasting you. Your heart was hammering with the intense stare off he was having with you. He was handsome as all hell, but you knew he was the type of dangerous you should not have in your life.

He finally shrugged. “Noted. My apologies. I’ll behave, scouts honor.”

He beckoned you back with two fingers.

You swallowed your unease and came back, resuming. He kept his hands off of you like he vowed he was going to. Still, you spent a lot of the time on the pole during your final song “Inertia Creeps” by Massive Attack.

At the end, Tony stood up and he came up to you at the pole. You looked up at him with curiosity; men usually did not move when you left the room.

He smiled devilishly down at you and held out a couple of folded hundreds. He was giving you $200 in tips? Your eyes widened and he forced them into your hand.

Before you could react, he leaned in and caught your mouth. His lips were soft but his force was rough. You were dazed when he pulled away. He winked at you.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart. Thanks for the sweet dreams.”

<><><>

Next weekend you were called to the Perle room again. And again, you found Tony there. He chose the set list this time and had you starting out with “Dissolved Girl” by Massive Attack. He had enjoyed the other song so much, he wanted to see you perform more of the album in front of him.

“I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. It hasn’t worked.”

His hands came up, caressing your breasts. You turned your head and his hands loosened. He laughed, nipping at your ear.

“Right, right. The rules. Darling, do you know how hard it is to remember those around you?”

“I’ve heard that before. It doesn’t make the rules any less real,” you returned, pulling away from his embrace and sashaying back to the pole.

He was watching you hungrily as you worked yourself around the pole. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.

“How would you like to make some money outside this club?”

Dipping low, you met his eyes and saw he was serious.

“If you’re asking me to fuck you, I’m married.”

That was information you rarely gave out. But Tony seemed the type of man you needed to put a hard wall up with.

Tony gave you a wide grin. “No, not fucking. Just fun. I wanna have a night out. I just want company.”

Some of the girls did escort work like that. And since it was outside the club you got to keep everything, no tax was taking off the top. And your electricity bill was going to be higher next month since winter was coming.

You did not answer him immediately, rolling the idea around. Knees spread on the ground, dancing, you met his eyes again. He was still waiting for an answer.

Getting back up sultrily, you came to sit back in his lap. He hummed in approval as you said, “Sure. Where we going?”

<><><>

“Going to whore yourself out again?” Michael asked, his words already slurring.

You were wearing a peacoat coat over your dress but he could still it was short. He disapproved of you stripping but he always backtracked when you were able to pay the bills. And more so, bring him his favorite bottle of liquor every other night. Especially since he rarely brought any money in himself. You felt an obligation to him since you had been high school sweethearts.

“For your information, no. I’m going out with friends.”

A white lie.

“What friends? Your co-hooker friends? Glad you keep such great company. A bunch of pathetic bitches just like you, starving for validation…”

“No. Well-paying friends who want my company,” you spat without thinking, angry he was always putting you down.

He got up out of his chair and you moved quickly. The last time he had laid hands on you, you had to take a week off of work and Thor had been pissed.

Your hand was on the door handle, and you had it opened quick. He stumbled and that gave you enough time to get the door closed and move down the hallway. The elevator was not an option cause it was too slow and you took the stairwell, not missing him yelling expletives at you.

He would be passed out well before you got home.

<><><>

Your dress clung tight to your body. You looked around the restaurant, worrying that you were going to be stood up. You had been here for twenty minutes and had ordered a glass of wine.

You were halfway through it without a sign of him. This place was five star, and you did not want to do a walk of shame.

Thankfully for you, Tony sauntered in five minutes later and he slid into the booth across from you, adjusting his jacket as he did. Leaning back against the booth, he threw his arm across the back of it, relaxing back, looking at you. You had chosen the seat across the table.

“You’re punctual. That’s new.”

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“Darling. I never am. Next time let’s ride together. Reservations for 7? I’m here at 7:30 at best and they know to keep the table for me.”

The first date had not even started, and he was already talking about the next.

He suddenly noticed you had a chair and as the waiter approached. He gestured at you and said, “What’s this chair doing here? Is there supposed to be more people than can fit on this booth?”

“Uh, no, Mr. Stark. It was just put there in case someone wanted it—"

“Do you want it?” Tony asked you, interrupting.

You knew the answer he wanted. Calmly, you stood up and moved around the table to sit right up next to him. His hand lying across the back of the booth caressed your shoulder.

“No, here is fine,” you said.

“That’s what I thought. Now, let’s get you something delectable to eat to match how I know you taste. Top notch deserves the same in return.”

He winked salaciously and you blushed. This off-limits escorting was not going to last long; you could sense that. He was not a man that would be satiated with just a taste. He wanted the whole course.

And that whole course was you spread out for him whenever he so pleased.

<><><>

On the fourth date, he took the plunge.

His town car took the opposite way from your turn, and you looked at him.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere where we can enjoy each other fully.”

You opened your mouth, but Tony held a finger up to your lips, winking. There was a sinister feeling behind that wink, and you closed your lips. He smiled in approval, “You’re so well behaved, sweetheart. You’re going to be a lot of fun.”

At the hotel room, legs spread wide, Tony’s large hands held you at your waist as he drove up into you hard and quick. He was not a gentle lover.

He rocked forward quickly and in one fell swoop had managed to maneuver you to pull you with him and you ended up on top. Lining himself back up with your entrance, he plummeted back in, resuming his unforgiving pace. You cried as he held your arms tight, keeping you in place to use like his own personal toy. You were an object to him that he wanted to possess.

<><><>

Leg crossed over the other, relaxing back in the armchair, Tony demanded, “What’s her name?”

Thor told Tony your fake name without missing a beat as he worked across the desk. Tony had come here for answers and Thor would be hard pressed to give them away completely.

Tony stared at him across the table unimpressed and Thor stopped typing, noticing. He simpered, “Tony, it’s for her safety.”

“Are you afraid for her? Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because her husband is a real piece of work.” He noticed the look on shocked Tony’s face, and he said, “Yeah, she wasn’t lying about that. I’m assuming she told you she was married. He might be a deadbeat, but he knows how to load a punch. If he found out she was doing more than dancing, I would be afraid for her. He’s already made her miss a couple weeks of work because of his Rambo fists when he’s gotten riled up just about the dancing. Which makes no sense to me because he barely brings money in, and she is essentially the sole breadwinner.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “And you want her to stay with that?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Seems like you did.”

Thor snorted, “No, I just know what lengths you are willing to go to get your way. And I’m not sure I want you taking this on. As your friend. It’s advice.”

“It won’t be hard. I want her, so it’ll be worth the effort,” Tony said.

<><><>

“It was nice,” you told Tony as you sat in the back of his town car when he asked you how you had enjoyed the night.

He had taken you to a high-end seafood restaurant on a large boat docked at the marina. You meant what you said; it was delicious.

“I thought you would like it,” Tony stated, scooting closer and an arm slipped around your shoulder, holding you closer.

He was staring into your eyes, and you smelled the bourbon on his breath. You no doubt reeked of alcohol yourself. There was something lurking beneath his gaze though. And you soon found out what.

“Y/N,” Tony murmured. You froze and he smiled at your shock. His fingers trailed up your arm and came to cup you under the chin. “That’s such a lovely name.”

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “How…?”

“Money talks,” Tony informed you as his hand spread to hold you beneath the jaw, fingers trailing behind your ear. You tried to pull away but his arm around you held tight, stopping your movement. He smirked briefly, “I’m not here to hurt you, darling. Don’t ever think that. I just simply adore you. I wanted to know about you. I want to take this further.”

“Further than just the bed?”

“Yes. I want you entirely.”

His firm tone was sincere. What had you gotten yourself into?

He pressed the button, and the partition went up between the two of you and the front seat. His hand left your neck to snake up your dress. “I want to call you by your real name when I take you this time.” He kissed you roughly and his lips brushed yours as he vowed, “I’ll have you whenever and wherever.”

<><><>

Months later, you awoke in the king bed in the mountain top suite. Sneaking a peek at the bedside clock, you saw it was almost four in the morning. You needed to leave. Tossing a look at Tony, seeing he was still sleeping, you tried to unravel yourself from his embrace as gently as you could.

But it was futile.

Tony yanked you back to him as you tried to crawl out of the bed. You protested lightly and he shushed you by roughly rolling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours, growing in intensity as he woke from slumber. His leg wrapped around you, trapping you against him. His cock was already growing hard again after the short nap the two of you had taken after the last tussle in the sheets.

You tried to make space as you said, “You know if I’m going to get home the time I said I was going to, I have to leave now.”

You were hours from home. He had taken you up into the mountains for the last couple of days. You had said you were going on a work trip with your coworkers per your managers request to dance at a new club. Michael would never know. That is unless you came home at the wrong time; then he would start to get suspicious.

The last couple of days had been really nice. Tony had been kind… until tonight. He always treated you to the best and made sure you were well taken care of. But he had gotten… off when he noticed you tonight having taken a nice tone and smiled at a busboy as you dropped off dishes near the kitchen entrance that was out of your way. You had only been trying to be nice to the guy. You knew what it was like working customer service and you only wanted to make his job a little bit easier. And he was not hard on the eyes. Receiving small flirtations was harmless in your eyes and it boosted your mood. It had done just that for the guy.

But upon coming back to the room, Tony was callous, and you had to pry him out of his shell with sweet words and caresses. He had been condescending, asking you if you got off on pleasing men in front of him. When you had told him you did not know what he was talking about he had torn your dress down the front, ignoring your shocked cries at his brutal behavior, and forced you onto the bed. The tatters of the dress had been torn from you completely and he had done the same to your underwear and then forcibly removed your bra from you. He had not even waited for you to get wet before slamming up into you.

“Who gives a fuck what that good-for-nothing husband of yours thinks?” He nipped at your neck, sucking in roughly. His hands gripped and held you close.

“My face does,” you retorted, trying to unwind yourself from him. But Tony was quick, locking you back down. “Tony, please.”

You managed to unlock yourself despite his grabbing and you slid off the bed, hitting the ground, your ass hitting it roughly. He exhaled sharply, glaring down at you and you moved quickly backwards, getting to your feet unsteadily. He was already getting out of the bed, and you moved quickly, snatching up your bag. Your dress was ruined, which was no matter. You could return in your sweats and top.

Tony was on you though and his grip on your bag was tight and he yanked back, drawing you with it. You let go as you stumbled as to not lose your balance and face plant. He used his momentum to throw the bag across the room by the sliding glass door.

“Tony! Stop playing games!” you said desperately, trying to move towards where he threw it, but he stepped in your way. “You know I have to get ready! You can’t be jealous of him. You know what this is.”

“So what if I’m jealous?” Tony asked, continuing to advance towards you and you kept walking backwards. Your back hit the wall, stopping your advancement. “The thought of you with him makes me sick.”

“He’s my husband—"

Tony slammed his fist on the counter, and you jumped back against the wall, causing it to shake slightly. “Stop making fucking excuses! He’s a piece of shit and you know it! Why won’t you just accept me?”

“Tony, I do—” you tried to placate him.

“Don’t you lie to me,” he warned in a snarl. “If that were true, you would be loyal to me and me only. You know how I feel. I want you. Wholly.”

That was so unfair of him to say when you knew he was married. But you also knew better than to point that out. Not when he was this belligerent; you knew belligerent men were hardly able to be reckoned with and calmed down. No, you needed to use other facts.

“And you did, this whole weekend,” you pointed out in shaky tones.

Tony’s laugh was maniac, “’Weekend’. Yeah, that’s what I mean when I say wholly.”

You tried to dodge around him quickly to go towards your bag, but he jolted out and grabbed you around the waist, swinging you around. You kicked your legs as he dragged you. You bounced on the mattress, not fully on it but not fully off it either. You grabbed at the sheets to get leverage and you got grounded just as his hand closed around your ankle. You pulled away with ferocity, landing on the other side of the bed. Scrambling, you grabbed your bag. Tony’s arm came around you, pulling you back.

“Tony!” you cried out, your voice cracking. “Please stop!”

There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. Tony swore underneath his breath and let you go, causing you to stumble because you had been relying on him.

He snatched up his briefs and threw them on before storming towards the door as another knock came.

He opened the door a crack and sighed frustrated, “What?”

You heard Happy, “Uh, I was coming to get Y/N… it’s time to take her back? I went to bed super early so I would be ready to take her back now?”

You were relieved to hear someone with sense.

“Fuck!” Tony snapped, tossing the door open and you squeaked, still naked. You rushed towards the hall to grab your sweats and sweater out and throw those on.

When you emerged again, Happy was waiting by the door and Tony was necking the bottle of bourbon he had bought. He slammed it back down on the counter and glared at you. You went to go towards him to kiss him goodbye to try to start to smooth things over, but he held up his hand forcibly and you stopped. He took another swig without looking at you.

Hurt, you turned towards Happy, who was looking at Tony with scrutiny as well before following you out the door. You fell asleep on the car ride home and when you arrived back at your place, Tony still had not texted you.

<><><>

Clutching your duffel bag, you climbed the stairs a week later to your apartment. Tony had been clipped in his responses since Happy had taken you home. You were growing simultaneously frustrated and nervous with possessive, aggressive behavior.

Upon walking in, you saw the living room was upturned. Your blood chilled and you immediately dropped your bag, going for the switchblade in your front pocket of it. It was out as you grabbed your cell phone out of your bag.

Just as you were about to dial 911, Tony emerged from the hallway, holding up his hand. “Darling, it’s just me.”

Dropping the hand with your phone, you demanded, “’Just you’? What are you doing?”

Tony shrugged, “What I needed to do.”

You did not like the way that sounded at all. And then you noticed all the blood on his hands and on the wetness on his black jacket, which was no doubt more blood. Your hand clutched your switchblade tighter. Tony’s eyes dropped to it, and he looked back up at you.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need for that. It’s just me.”

“’Just you’? Where’s Michael?”

Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed. He turned his back and walked towards the kitchen. He flipped the switch on in there as he moved towards the sink. You moved to follow him and upon seeing more of the kitchen, you saw Carol and Rhodes were sitting at the table, having a drink.

“Where’s Michael?” you repeated.

Washing his hands in the sink now, without a care for the blood splattering, Tony told you, “I could have used a gun, but this was personal.”

The horror of what he was admitting without outright saying it was washing down on you. Your hand wavered, threatening to drop your switchblade.

“You…you…” you stammered; your chest was tight.

Tony continued rinsing the blood off of his hands, unbothered. He finished as you stood there frozen by your shock. Shaking his hands off, he wiped them on his black jeans and turned back to face you. As soon as he started to come close, you regained sense of self and your hand gripped tighter on your blade again.

Tony was not having any of that. He was quick and gripped your wrist tightly, twisting it so you cried out, dropping the blade. He held you up to the wall by your throat.

His word was law sinking around you, “No more excuses, Y/N. You’re all mine now.”

~~~

Song list to set the mood for me while writing:

Was Ich Liebe -- Rammstein Walk -- Pantera Problem -- Natalia Kills Inertia Creeps -- Massive Attack Dissolved Girl -- Massive Attack Just For Me -- Saint Jhn feat. Sza

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)

This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 

Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 

Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 

His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 

He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 

He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 

But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?

He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.

One time only.

“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 

Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.

Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 

The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.

He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 

Sounds like a good deal. 

Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 

Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 

Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 

This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 

What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 

Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 

Your auction has ended. 

Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 

Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.

Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 

And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 

Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 

Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 

The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.

You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 

Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 

Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 

Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 

Yes, you reply. 

The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.

Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 

A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 

Okay, you acknowledge.

More dots, then another message.

Dress appropriately.

Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 

Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.

What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 

Fuck all if you have a clue. 

You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?

Ransom.

Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 

Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?

You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 

Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 

You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 

You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 

“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”

You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 

You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 

Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 

Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 

Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 

With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 

You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 

“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”

The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 

Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.

“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 

“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 

Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 

The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 

The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 

You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 

You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 

Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 

Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 

Where are you? he messages you. 

At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 

“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 

Have them bring up my usual from the bar.

Yes, sir.

Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 

He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 

He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 

He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 

I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.

You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 

The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 

There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 

“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 

You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 

Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 

When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 

You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 

He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 

Why the hell does he want a virgin?

When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...

Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.

His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.

When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”

As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 

He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 

Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 

When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 

When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”

The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 

Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 

Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 

Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.

The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 

Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?

You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.

“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 

His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 

There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 

Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out fanfic #knives out fic #The Highest Bidder #pagesoflauren

[stellar-starseed]

Closer Than That

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Changbin x reader, Jisung x reader, polyamory

Summary: Your best friends happen to be 3racha, but Changbin was your closest friend from childhood. When things start to take a different turn in your relationship, you’re left wondering which way is up.

Word Count: 2,340

Chapter: 11/14

Other Chapters: Master List

Warnings: 18+; sexual content, language

Chapter 11

With the comeback only days away, you weren’t sure whether you were sad because you would be away from Changbin for two months as the tour rapidly approached, or if you were sad because your relationship with Jisung was dissolving before your very eyes.

Your few text messages went unread. Your attempts to communicate through other members fell short. It was beginning to feel like you would never speak with Jisung. The way he could shut you out so easily made you sad at first. Your sadness turned to disappointment and anger.

How could he do this again? You thought to yourself. He promised he wouldn’t.

You found yourself working in a solo studio instead of working with your boyfriends. You didn’t dare use that hall for fear of a death glare from your more sensitive boyfriend.

“Hyunie, can you talk to him?”

“Me?” Hyunjin questions. “I tried! Ask Lee Know.”

“He told me to give him space.” You pout. Hyunjin pats your shoulder.

“We can go pick up ice cream and watch dramas.” Hyunjin suggests. You sigh, but nod. That was your best option.

Changbin felt a bit awkward approaching Jisung about an argument between the two of you. It wasn’t his place, but he would do anything for you. He flung open the door to the studio only to find it empty. Changbin wandered around until he found the room Jisung was hold up in. He crashed the end of Jisung’s Vlive.

“Bye!” Changbin sang to the camera in his cutest voice. Jisung smacked him out of habit and laughed. Changbin felt a bit better about the situation when it seemed that Jisung wasn’t awkward around him.

“What’s up?” Jisung asked as he settled in after wrapping everything up and giving the phone back to the staff. Changbin got more comfortable in his seat.

“Uh oh.” Jisung chuckled. When Changbin didn’t chuckle with him Jisung stopped what he was doing. “This is about _____?” When Changbin nodded Jisung sat back down in his chair.

“Look I know what you’re going to say. She means so much to me, I’m being an ass...”

“Yeah, keep going.”

“Listen, I know these things okay? I’m not having an easy time with this, but every time I go to see her I feel shitty again. I’m either hurting because I miss her or hurting because I don’t feel like I fit in here. If you have some sage advice I could really use it right now.”

“She was one of your closest friends before this. Why wouldn’t you fit in?” Changbin sat back in therapist mode.

“Fuck, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s even harder because you’re on the other end. I feel like a dick.” Jisung sighed and it was silent for a long while as he tried to put his thoughts in order. These feelings didn’t have a name or a real reason they just festered inside of him.

“I feel..fuck I’m going to sound like a bitch, but, I feel like you and her are the real couple. I’m sitting on the outside. It’s like you guys are one, and I’m an after thought. Not on purpose and nothing against either of you, but I’m a third wheel.”

“Hmm.” Changbin didn’t have much to say to that. He sat on it for a moment.

“It’s like you were meant to be together, the two of you. And as much as I love her, I won’t be you. She loves me, yeah, but it won’t ever be the way she loves you.”

“Me and you are not the same person.” Changbin simply says.

“Not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.” Changbin gave Jisung a look that suggested it was obvious and it should click.

Jisung sighed loudly and looked away to try to put his words together. He wasn’t able to come up with anything better than this feeling that eats away at him.

Changbin wondered if anything he said to Jisung sunk in, but he couldn’t be focused on his friend when his girl was hurting. He headed for your apartment and found you were cuddled up with Hyunjin watching dramas.

“I didn’t approve of this cuddling.” Changbin crosses his arms as he stands in front of you.

“Babe!” You exclaim as Hyunjin simultaneously shouts,

“Changbin-ah!” Throwing a couch pillow at him.

“Okay, okay.” Changbin takes a seat and chuckles at the two of you when you immediately get back into the show in front of you. He watched you as you winced or laughed at the actions on the screen. His heart was full, and it wasn’t until then that he realized maybe Jisung had a point.

Later that night, after Hyunjin left to the dorms, you and Changbin sat in the silent, dark living room. Neither of you wanted to move or do much of anything. Changbin pulled you closer to him. A satisfied sigh escaped him.

“I talked to Jisung.”

“Okay, is it bad?”

“I’m not sure.” Changbin said causing your heart to sink. Had you really fucked up so bad?

“I love you,” he sighs and looks up to the ceiling searching for the thought that crossed his mind earlier so clearly.

“I love you too?” you say perplexed.

“I love you so much that I know I couldn’t love anyone else. Like my heart is full as it is. Loving you has put me at max loving capacity.”

You laugh and sit up. When you looked at Changbin he was serious. You cross your arms over your chest. What was in the air?

“I love you just as much, Changbin, but I’m not understanding where this is coming from or what it has to do with Jisung at the moment?”

“You love me so much you have no room to love anyone else?”

“I love you both that way...”

“Jisung doesn’t feel that way. I didn’t get it until I came here tonight.”

“He doesn’t love me that way, or?”

“Jisung doesn’t think you could love us both like that. I think he feels like he gets scraps of you because I was here first.”

“You said you understood tonight. Do you feel that way, too?”

Jisung spent the night tossing and turning. When he glanced at the clock to see it was nearly 4am he decided to give up on sleep. He sighed to himself in the dark room. He heard Jeongin’s faint snores in the distance.

Jisung grabbed for his phone and headed towards the living room. He saw the light on in Chan’s room and decided not to bother him this night. Jisung glanced towards Minho’s room and thought better of bothering him as well. He plopped down on the couch and decided to be alone with his thoughts.

The thoughts that kept him awake most of the night were now free to flood in. Jisung was fighting with himself. He knew this decision would haunt him if he were to make the wrong one, but he knew he had to decide one way or the other.

It wasn’t long before the sun came up. The golden rays causing the most interesting shadows. Jisung had decided, with the light seemingly illuminating his thoughts, that he was going to write it all out. By the end of his thoughts he would know.

You turned to face your boyfriend and immediately you softened upon seeing his sleeping form. You knew he was everything to you, but so was Jisung, how could you possibly get them to understand?

Your hand found it’s way to his chest and you traced small circles on his bare skin. He stirred a bit underneath you, and you leaned in to kiss his warm skin. You swore a smirk momentarily appeared. You couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The warmth of his skin, the way he tasted. You were going to miss this more than you could imagine. You were near ready to book a ticket to meet Changbin.

This tour was going to kick off in Europe and you were positive you could work on the road. You decided it wouldn’t be the best of ideas. The guys would be exhausted and you would just get in the way of their jam packed schedule.

Changbin began to stir a bit more underneath you. Soon he was stretching and you were met with a smile.

“Good morning, princess.” He says before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m going to miss you.” You blurt out. Changbin pouts.

“Don’t start.” He whines. “Princess, you’re going to make me even more sad.”

“I know but...” You pout. “I won’t even get to see you today. I just...”

Changbin wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You stay like that for some time. He only pulls away to kiss you. You sensed his sadness about leaving you and you didn’t want to make it harder on him by crying or giving him a hard time.

“Come on.” You say. You both get dressed and you head to the coffee shop near the dorms. Changbin is a bit curious as to why you brought him to the coffee shop. He’s not a frequenter of the shop like Jisung is, and he has come to think of this as your spot with Jisung.

“Try it!” You say setting a large breakfast sandwich in front of him. Changbin raised an eyebrow at you but he tried it anyway. His eyes widened and he nodded at you before taking another bite.

“Told you.” You smile proudly at him. “Channie brought me here just for this sandwich.”

“Why didn’t he bring me here?” Changbin says before stuffing more of the sandwich into his mouth. You pick at the other half of the sandwich on his plate. You weren’t feeling very hungry. After this meal you would be alone. The thought was becoming much louder and you weren’t able to hide your sadness.

Changbin tried his best to ease the sadness by cracking jokes, but you both knew the cloud that hung over wasn’t going away. You finished your breakfast and head to the dorms with him to say your goodbyes

There was a quick succession of goodbyes between you and the guys until Jisung walked out of his room. The awkward silence that fell over the room was followed by everyone filing out save for you and Jisung.

“Hey.” You say. He smiles mirthlessly.

“Hey, I wanted to give you this. I also want to say I’m sorry. It’s all in here.” He hands you a folded letter. You get the feeling whatever is in this letter isn’t going to make you feel better.

“Okay.” You say. You wanted to scream at him, tell him he was a jerk for putting you through this. You wanted him to say it was okay and you would just fall back into normal routine. None of that happened.

Jisung stood there for longer than he planned. He couldn’t seem to move. Suddenly he leaned in and gave you a sweet lingering kiss on the lips. You both stayed there, lips pressed against one another’s, unable to pull away and afraid to deepen it. He finally pulled away.

“I want you to know I love you, and no matter how you feel I need you to know it doesn’t change that.”

“Jisung, I love you too. So much. I’m going to miss you.” You can’t help but pout a little at him. He smiles and kisses your forehead. He sighs to himself and walks away.

Changbin rushes up to you and picks you up in a gigantic hug. You can’t help but call out and you start laughing. Chan grabs onto you from behind when the spinning stops. Your sandwiched between two of your best friends and all you can think about is how sad you’re going to be when they’re gone.

“Love you.” You call one last time as the van door closes. You faintly see Changbin’s hand on the glass through the tinted window. Why did it feel like this was going to be forever?

You finally make it home after trying to fill your day with meaningless errands you swore you couldn’t get done with your boyfriends around. After you put your laundry in the washer you plop down on the couch, certain that you had accomplished more today than in two months with work and filling your time with Changbin and Jisung.

Your heart hurt momentarily as your mind wondered over his name, Jisung. Was it such a bad idea to date? Did you ruin your friendship over this? You looked at your bag where the letter was stuffed.

You wanted to know what the letter said, but you were reluctant. Something didn’t sit right with you about it. You felt like the contents of that letter were some ominous thing you didn’t want to open up.

You grabbed the letter anyway and sat back on couch. The drama you didn’t finish with Hyunjin played in the background as you skipped on your tea and stared at the letter. Slowly, you opened it. You smiled at Jisung’s writing. It was cute, not as familiar as Changbin’s but it was nice to see.

Jagiya, he started off. Your heart melted at the thought of him saying that to you. The adoration in his voice made your whole body tingle with excitement. You continued to read. Jisung mentioned his insecurities about you and Changbin. He mentioned a feeling he couldn’t shake.

The more you read the less hopeful you were. Tears began to well up. You wondered how you missed this when you were with him. How could he feel so left out or alone in this relationship without you picking up on that?

“Fuck.” You whispered to yourself as you crumpled the letter in your hands, unable to read through your tears.

When you were able to get to the end of the letter, it was just as expected, Jisung was breaking up with you.

———————————————————————————

It’s been a cool minute, but I do hope you enjoyed!

Stay safe, stay healthy. You’re already doing amazing!

See you on the next episode.

♥️.

#queued for your reading pleasure #closer than that #stray kids #skz #bang chan #changbin #jisung #stray kids fan fic #Changbin fan fic #Jisung fan fic #Changbin x reader #Jisung x reader #polyamory #drama #queued

[impala672020t]

Negan road to the saviors - Chapter 15: DickBiters

“You choose who you take with you. Don’t come back empty handed, because failure isn’t a fucking option this time-“ Negan said as he handed Dwight his clothes back as well as the crossbow he had. Negan walked back to his office and had that same recruit follow him “here’s what your gonna do. You’re gonna follow Dwight and his group from a distance, so they’ll know their not followed. And if he finds that group and they somehow get away, you follow them and find where they’re at and watch them “ Negan said as he gave him a Walkie Talkie. After everyone left, Negan saw Simon’s truck pull up. As he watched the group’s give out, he could tell by the look on their faces that something went wrong at Oceanside. Negan felt this deep sickness in his stomach from the look he saw in each of their eyes. Simon came into his office alone, and Negan immediately noticed the blood on his boots. That much blood wasn’t from one kill, only one thing could cause that much blood; a massacre-.

 Negan rose from his chair with rage, grabbing Simon by his shirt and picked him against the wall “What the Fuck did you do!!!!” Negan screamed at Simon as the fear showed in his eyes “What do you mean?” Simon said. “You have one fucking chance to tell me the fucking truth right here and now or I’ll kill you where you stand. What did you do to that community“ Negan said. “They looked like a threat. They had plenty of guns and warriors so we killed all the men. I thought you would approve of this strategic plan-“ Simon said. Negan grabbed Simon by the throat and started choking him “you stupid fucking son of a bitch. Listen here, I told you, only one person dies. No children, no woman and no fucking massacres. PEOPLE ARE A RESOURCE!!!! You should have taken their guns. The only reason I don’t kill you right now, is because I have bigger problems with the fucking group that killed all your men at the second outpost. One more fuck up and I’ll kill you. And I’ll be watching you from now on too-” Negan said and then preceded to let him go. Just then a piercing sound of someone screaming came from the ground floor. They went down to check it out and there was Dwight being carried by a few soldiers screaming “ the Mother-Fucking- Mullet- headed- son- of- a- bitch- bit my fucking Dick!” Dwight said. Negan couldn’t help but grimace and grab his nuts of steel to make sure they were still there “what kind of fucking fucked up people are these fuckers. You mean to tell me they got DickBiters there too- What the fuck. Now we got to invest in cups of fucking steel, so we don’t end up like Dwighty boy here. Tell me, did you at least take one of them out?“ Negan said. “Yes, I got one but I didn’t get there location“ Dwight said. Just then Negan walkie went off “Negan, I found them“ the voice said over the walkie. “Go get Dwight bandage up, we’re gonna need him for this next part…” Negan said as he prepared his plan.

NXT CHT

#twd negan #negan smith #The Walking Dead #Jeffrey Dean Morgan

[hopelikethemoon]

Clandestine (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Clandestine  Rating: Explicit Length: 3000 Warnings: Smut  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. I want you to go along for the ride, so I’m not telling you anything.  Summary: A clandestine meeting between Javier and Reader.

@grapemama​​​​ @seawhisperer​​​​ @huliabitch​​​​ @beccaplaying​​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​​ @gooddaykate​​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​​ @ham4arrow​​​​ @plexflexico​​​ @readsalot73​​​​ @hdlynn​​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​​ @randomness501​​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​​  @roxypeanut​​​​ @snivellusim​​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​​@ ​​​​​@awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​​​ @ah-callie​​​​ @swhiskeys​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​ @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy​​​ @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd​​ @himbopoes​​​​ @findhimfives​​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​​ @random066​​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​​ @heather-lynn​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​ @cyarikaaa​​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​​ @yabby-girl​​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​ @punkass-potato​​​ @coredrive​​​ @pascalesque​​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​​ @queenquazar​​​​ @sabinemorans​​​​ @buckstaposition​​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​​ @jaime1110​​​​ @katlikeme​

“How about I buy you a glass of wine, sugar.” The man to your left offered as you leaned your forearms against the bar. 

You rolled your eyes and caught the attention of the bartender, “Whiskey. Neat.” You ordered, not paying any mind to the man beside you. 

“Whiskey.” He drawled out, shifting closer. “Seems like you might just be my kind of girl.” 

“I promise you, I’m not playing hard to get.” You gritted out as you turned to glare at the man. “Hope you’re not here for the convention,” You continued with a scathing tone. “Because you’re shit at picking up on blatant clues.”

The man recoiled then, snatching his glass of bourbon off the bar top. “Bitch.” He snarled as he walked away. 

You snorted, “And proud.” 

“Here you are,” The bartender said as he sat the glass down in front of you. “If you have any issues with the gentleman—“

“I’m good.” You held up a hand to stop the man. “But thanks.” You picked up your glass and took a sip, before retreating across the bar to one of the secluded booths. 

The thought of being cooped up in your hotel room for the rest of the night was unappealing. You’d spent three hours on a train from Philly to Washington and you really just wanted to unwind and people watch. 

The jackass that had called you a bitch was across the bar with a table of equally insufferable men. He’d clearly gone back and bitched about you like a baby, because they were not-so-subtly looking in your direction.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered. 

This, right here, was why Mitch had been nervous about the trip when you’d told him about it. A woman — alone — at a testosterone laden convention filled with one too many of the boys in blue. 

You’d dealt with enough shit at the academy to know exactly what sort of situation you were in. It didn’t matter how well you did in your college classes or how proficient you were during training— you were still a woman that they wanted to fuck. 

A man stepped into your line of view and helped himself to the seat across from you. “Act like you know me.” 

Your brows rose upwards, a snide remark primed on the tip of your tongue but you pushed it aside in favor of offering a friendly smile. “But I don’t.” You said coolly, lifting your glass to your lips and taking a sip. 

“Those assholes have been harassing every woman who has walked into the bar tonight.” The man offered, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he rocked his lower jaw.

“Charming.” You huffed, sitting your glass back down. “And what do you call this?” You questioned as you gestured between the two of you.

He arched a brow at you, a short chuckle escaping him. “Guess I’ll be on my way then.”

Before you could stop yourself, you reached across the table and grabbed the man’s forearm to keep him from leaving. “Stay.” 

The man’s eyes narrowed as his shoulders relaxed and he settled back into his seat. “Alright.” 

Your eyes flickered across the bar towards the table of men who were still eyeing you and laughing amongst themselves. “Pigs. The lot of them.”

“Yeah,” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, there is a law enforcement convention in town.”

“I know.” You retorted. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” You shook your head. “Let me guess, you’re here for the convention too?” You questioned, gesturing to him. “The mustache and the aviators tucked into your shirt are dead giveaways.”

The man’s lips drew upwards at the corners, forming a wry grin as he stared at you. “Clever.”

“Oh,” You lifted your glass to your lips and took another sip, “You have no idea.”

“Javier Peña.” He offered, tapping his fingers atop the table as his gaze lingered on your face. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smiled a little. “Texas?”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “That obvious?”

“You’ve got a slight twang to your voice.” You shrugged. 

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m with the DEA in Austin.”

“Nice.” You pursed your lips with an approving sound. “I’m looking.” You shrugged. “But I have a feeling that it doesn’t matter that I graduated top of my class.” You nodded your head towards the table of jackasses. “I’ll still get passed over in favor of some dick who probably failed firearms training twice.”

Javier ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth and nodded with a grim expression, “It’s a tough fucking field.” 

“I just want to make a difference.” You sighed, rubbing your thumb over the curve of your glass. “I’ve hitched all of my horses to this and the stable’s empty now.”

“How many of those have you had?” Javier retorted with a chuckle, both of his brows rising upwards.

“Oh, fuck off.” You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I’m just saying — I have two options. Either this works out for me,” You gestured vaguely around the bar. “Or I go back to Philadelphia and let my sister-in-law find me a nice rich investment banker to play house with until I die of boredom.”

Javier grinned at you, “Then it sounds like this has to work out for you.” He leaned against the table. “I may not know you, but the latter sounds like perpetual hell.”

You scrunched up your nose, “What’s worse than hell?”

He laughed, “That bad, huh?”

“I get that some people want that life, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”

“Yeah, me too.” Javier shrugged a shoulder as he glanced away. “You mind if I smoke?”

“I only mind if you don’t offer me one.” You countered with a smug grin.

Javier smirked at you as he leaned back and pulled the packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his leather jacket. He pulled two out, passing you one before sticking his between his lips.

“So, did you sweep in and save any of the other women they heckled?” You questioned as you took the lighter from him. 

He blew out a breath of smoke, shaking his head. “Nope.”

“I’m flattered.” You took a drag off the cigarette, before tapping it on the side of the ashtray on the table. “As long as you don’t play white knight for everyone, I’ll permit you to stay.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled as his gaze flickered over your face. “You seemed like you had it handled.”

You nodded as you watched the smoke dissipate as you exhaled. “I’m not afraid to make those assholes go home as eunuchs.” 

“Damn,” Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “You gonna treat me that way if I offer to buy you another whiskey?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, sweeping your eyes over him. “I suppose you can buy me a drink.” 

He winked at you before he slid out of his chair and strolled over to the bar to do just that. You couldn’t help but watch him walk away — the jeans he wore hugged his ass too well for you not to appreciate them. 

Javier wasn’t your typical type. The last handful of men you’d gone on dates with had been ‘pretty boys,’ for lack of a better word. He seemed like he was a few years older than you — maybe ten? The mustache was weirdly appealing too and your mind wandered down the path of wondering how that might feel between your—

“All you had to say was that you were taken, sugar.” The man from the bar had returned and he was fuming with barely controlled anger. 

And they let assholes like him around guns?

“Oh, I didn’t know I had to give my reasons for telling you to fuck off.” You shot back. “Silly me.”

“Listen here, bitch—“

“Is there a problem?” Javier questioned as he returned.

You snatched up your purse and pulled the strap over your shoulder as you slid out from behind the table. “I’m not really feeling the atmosphere down here, babe.” You said smoothly, reaching out and running your hand along Javier’s forearm, before taking your glass of whiskey from him. “Why don’t we enjoy our drinks in our room?”

Javier played into it seamlessly, “I’m sorry you had to put up with these assholes, baby.” He said as he curled his arm around your waist possessively. “C’mon.”

You didn’t pull out of his embrace once you were out of view of the bar. You didn’t even pull away once you were safely in the elevator alone with him. 

“What floor?”

“I’m on eight.” You told him, watching as he gripped his drink in his hand and used his knuckle to press eight and ten on the panel. 

“Sorry you had to cut your evening short,” Javier said lightly, his fingers brushing over your side as he released the grip he had on you. 

“It’s alright,” You tilted your head to look at him beside you. “I’m probably way off the mark here, but…” Your gaze flickered to his lips briefly, before meeting his dark gaze again. “The night doesn’t have to end.”

Javier’s tongue ran along the seam of his lips as he stared back at you. “Would be a shame to waste good company when there’s still drinks to be had.”

You smirked a little, lashes fluttering as you angled yourself towards him. “I think you should get off on eight.”

“Yeah?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

“You might even get off on eight.” You added, leaning in slightly. 

Javier rolled his eyes, “And you’re funny.”

“I’m a package deal.” You took a step away from him, just before the elevator dinged — announcing your arrival on the eighth floor. 

You walked backwards off the elevator, lifting your glass to your lips as you held his gaze. “Well?”

Javier pursued you, “How can I say ‘no’ to you, baby?” He drawled out with a smirk. 

You turned your back to him as you made your way down the corridor to your room — room 87. You had not intended to have any guests in your hotel room and yet, something about Javier made you throw away all the promises you made to yourself. 

“It’s not much,” You told him as you held the door open for him. “I always pictured hotel hookups happening in swanky high rise penthouses.” 

Javier chuckled as he sat his glass down on the small counter by the mini fridge, and you couldn’t help but watch him as he slid out of his leather jacket. “Better than a motel hookup.” 

“Intimately familiar with those?” You countered as you sipped at your drink. 

He shook his head, “Nah.” Javier dragged his fingers through his hair as he arched a brow at you. “Is this a hookup?” 

You chewed on your bottom lip, “It’s whatever we want it to be.” You told him as you stepped past him to sit your glass down beside his. 

“What do you want it to be?” Javier questioned. 

You stood a little straighter as you turned back to him, your heart beating a little faster as you met his heated gaze. “Let me show you.” You said softly as you reached out to graze your fingers along his jawline. 

Javier’s hand curled around your hip as you leaned towards him and kissed him. His mustache tickled at first, but you were far too focused on the feel of his tongue sliding past your lips to find yours.

A soft groan escaped you as you sank into the kiss, your hand curled around the back of his neck as your lips slanted against his.

He stepped forward, making you move backwards until you were pressed flat against the wall behind you. 

Javier nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue soothing the marks his teeth made as his hands slid under your shirt. Your own fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, greedily touching every inch of skin that was exposed to you.

He broke away from the kiss to peel your shirt off of you. “Is this what you want, baby?” He questioned as he slid his knee between your thighs and slid it up until it was pressed right against the seam of your pants. 

You cried out softly, rocking against his knee as you felt the burn of arousal in your lower belly. You were embarrassingly wet — you could feel your underwear sticking to your slick folds as you ground down against the pressure of his knee. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, dragging him back in for another kiss that was far too short lived. 

You came awake suddenly, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. It took a second for you to get your bearings — but you recognised the moonlight spilling in through shades on the patio door.

Miami. Josie and Sofía. Javier. 

He was snoring quietly beside you, completely unaware of the intense dream you had just had about him.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you shifted uncomfortably, even that little bit of friction made you want to moan. You could practically feel your clit throbbing from the desire you’d felt in the dream. 

You slid you hand under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, fingers sliding through your slick folds. You inhaled sharply, the tip of your finger grazing over your clit. 

“Javier.” You breathed out as you circled your finger around that little bundle of nerves, your inner walls clenching around nothing as you worked yourself towards your release. 

“Having fun without me?” Javier murmured, his voice an octave lower and still heavy with exhaustion. 

You moaned as you felt him curl his hand around your upper thigh, “I’m close.” You told him, your pace never faltering. “Fuck.”

“That’s it baby,” Javier whispered, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “I can hear how fucking wet you are, baby.” He kissed the curve of your throat, before brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. “Come.”

Your body obeyed him, your hips bucking upwards as you came apart under your own touch. You turned your head, finding his lips in the darkness and kissing him desperately. 

Javier broke away from the kiss, breathing raggedly, “I hope I was involved with winding you up like this, baby.” He murmured, kissing you again. 

You laughed against his lips, winding your fingers through his hair. “It was all you.” You told him, running your hand down his chest and stomach, before cupping his cock through his boxers.

“Yeah?” He breathed out as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pants, trying to work them down your hips. 

You rolled onto your side, shimmying out of your shorts and underwear, “I’ll have to tell you… all about it.” You whispered as he curled an arm around your waist and hauled you back against his chest. He slid his other arm beneath your neck and reached for your breast, palming at it through your shirt. 

“Fuck.” Javier rasped out as his fingers found their way between your thighs. “You’re soaking wet, baby. Goddamn.”

You reached behind you, grabbing at his hip as you sank back against him. Javier shifted as he guided his cock to your center. Your nails bit into his forearm as he slid into you — your inner walls fluttering around him, still sensitive from your orgasm. 

Javier pressed his face into the crook of your neck, “You feel so fucking good, baby.” He murmured as he moved. 

“So do…” You rolled your hips in time with his movements. “Fuck. So do you.” 

“Tell me.” Javier urged as he nipped at the soft curve of your neck. 

“We were,” You started, running your hand along his forearm. “Strangers.” You turned your head, eyes straining in the darkness to see him. “At a conference in Washington.” 

“Do conferences make you horny, baby?” Javier chuckled, kissing at your jaw. 

“You do.” You tensed as his cock grazed a sweet spot within you that made your thighs tremble and your toes curl. 

He groaned out your name, his pace faltering. “Shit.” Javier hissed as he buried the length of his cock within you, “Come on, baby.” 

You clenched around him, grinding back against him as his fingers found your clit and coaxed you over the edge again. 

Javier slid out of you, maneuvering you onto your stomach before his cock slid back into you. You stretched your arms out in front of you, grabbing at the edge of the bed beneath your pillow as he  fucked you into the mattress. 

That was exactly what you needed and apparently what he needed too. 

Your name was on his lips as he came apart, his release spilling out deep within you as he draped himself over you. 

“Holy shit.” You breathed out, turning your head so you wouldn’t smother to death in your pillow. “Thank God tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Hmm?” He questioned, pressing a kiss to a spot at the base of your neck. 

You laughed softly. “Nothing.” You reached behind your head, playing your fingers through his hair. “I don’t think dream Javier could’ve fucked me that well.”

“Glad to know my competition is myself.”

You grinned to yourself, “Can’t even have a sexy dream about anyone else.” 

“Good.” He kissed your shoulder again, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Mhm.” You hummed sleepily, feeling far too warm and comfortable beneath the weight of him. “The dream made me a little sad that we’re shit at roleplay.”

“Yeah?” He exhaled slowly. “Can always…”

You let your eyes slip closed. “Hmm?”

“What?” Javier ran his hand along the back of your arm. “We can try again.”

You nodded as he slid his arms beneath you, keeping you pressed against his chest as he rolled over onto his side. His cock slipped out of you and you missed the connection the second it was gone. 

But you were far too tired to protest. Two orgasms and a little mind numbing fucking had done you in. 

Even in your dreams, Javier was the one you wanted to go home with. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[tragicallywicked]

JALICE SECRET SANTA 2020 ↳ the holiday, a jess & alice christmas story part (1/2) gift to @goldeneyedgirl | @lexiewrites

Almost everything ever written about love is true. Shakespeare said, “Journeys end when lovers meet.” What an extraordinary thought. It was Shakespeare who also said, “Love is blind”. For some, quite inexplicably… love fades. For others, love is simply lost. But then, of course, love can also be found even if just for the night—or a lifetime. @jalicenetwork Be careful clicking read more this is 18k long and NSFW.

READ IT ON AO3

Merry Christmas, Lexie! I hope you enjoy this long ass fic which I spent the whole month teasing you about it without saying it was for you just to check if I would not make a whole MESS of your gift! I hope you enjoy this little Jess/Alice holiday love and that you're having a wonderful holiday season yourself! Happy Holidays! ♡

THE HOLIDAY

——

Almost everything ever written about love is true. Shakespeare said, “Journeys end when lovers meet.” What an extraordinary thought. It was Shakespeare who also said, “Love is blind”. For some, quite inexplicably… love fades. For others, love is simply lost. But then, of course, love can also be found even if just for the night.

——

“Will you tell me the truth?” When Alice asked, there was no flicker of emotion in her voice. Her eyes darted to the man with dark blond hair beside her as he stared out into traffic, avoiding her gaze. “James,” she tried again, “I want the truth.”

Practicality had always been a key asset to Alice Cullen’s life. At work, it aided her to always be on time and deliver what was required of her. In her personal life, it meant that she didn’t sugarcoat anything. Some called her harsh, or cold-hearted, but it was simply who she was—or had learned to be.

Her fiancé James was a stunning looking man. Tall, blond, slender. Truly attractive to the eye. And Alice had once been madly in love with him, as he had been for her. But that love wasn’t there anymore. The spark, their attraction, it was all gone. Alice had been so driven by him the first time around, so blinded to his flaws—that were now what surfaced to tear them apart.

James had been having an affair. He never really confessed to it but Alice had been picking up on the signs for a while now. The red blur she found on his collar once, the late work hours, the grins and giggles when he was texting someone, their distance in bed both physically and emotionally… They never had sex anymore, not like before. When it happened it was mechanical, more as a necessity to get off—which Alice never really did—than anything else. 

If she was to be honest with herself, Alice never looked at James and said to herself that he was the man of her life. She always found such notions to be childish, whimsical. He would be a nice man to settle with, to share a comfortable life—after all they also worked in the same area. But he was not a charming prince coming to her rescue and she was no damsel in distress. Alice was a practical woman. And right now, as she tried to make him confess, that showed through.

What unfolded the misery of their night had been a phone call. They were all to have dinner in Downtown Los Angeles when James stepped out to the bathroom and left his phone behind. The name Victoria read on the screen along with the picture of his red-wild-haired secretary. Alice knew Victoria, they had met plenty of times, so what harm could it have been to pick up the call and let her know that James had just stepped out?

“Are you coming to see me later? I miss you, James,” it was the first words she said, even before Alice could say hello. She stood there, struck by the realization that her fears were, in fact, concrete. She couldn’t move, or cry—Alice never really cried—, she just stood there in silence.

They had dinner as if nothing had happened. To James, in fact, it hadn’t. Alice had hung up the call and pretended she hadn’t heard a thing. His chatting over the three course meal was like a background noise. All she could really think about was just how stupid she had been about this whole relationship. How many times she had turned the eye on the evidence right in her face.

Alice couldn’t go any longer that way, but she still waited for them to get in the car.

“Victoria called,” she told him. “She asked if you’ll be seeing her later. She also said that she misses you.” The diminishing tone in her voice took James by surprise but he was really taken aback by her coldness. Alice had never denied she was a distant woman, not true to her emotions for the most part, and although James knew that it still shocked him that she wasn’t crying or screaming. She was barely moving, even.

“I—” he tried to say, but no words really formed. Instead he stared ahead for a long time.

Alice couldn’t tell if he was avoiding the whole thing or if she had simply gone mad. She decided it was the first option so her words demanded the truth.

Nothing came. Just more silence.

It was painful to realize what silence meant, but she still didn’t cry. She was relieved even. Alice worried that if James had tried to lie, or even just apologize, she would have caved. Because Alice knew she would. Not because she loved James, but for her own fear of being alone.

“Did you sleep with her?” Alice tried one more time.

“She wasn’t important.”

So he had.

“Was she better than me?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Answer it, James,” she complained.

“She’s different,” he confessed.

Alice let that sink into her stomach as it twisted inside her. She mouthed something but no words came out and James stared at her for a moment.

“I don’t understand you,” he grunted under his breath. That made her eye him, vile.

“You don’t understand me?” Alice groaned angrily, looking ahead as they moved in traffic.

“I really don’t,” he rampaged on all that had been stuck inside then, unable to hold back, “you have no emotions, like ever. You’re here finding out that I cheated on you and you won’t scream or cry.”

“Oh, so you want me to be suffering for your mistakes now?” Alice mocked, rolling her eyes angrily.

“That’s not what I’m saying, but you could shed a tear or two. You know what it’s like to sleep next to you? Or worse, to sleep with you?” His words were piercing to the point Alice herself questioned how she was not more upset with him.

“Do enlighten me, James.”

“It’s like sleeping with a corpse.” He spit the words out and they actually made Alice gasp.

“Stop the car.”

“What?”

“Stop the fucking car, James.”

“We’re in the middle of the freeway.” He looked back at her and the road, confused.

“Get off on the next exit. Now.”

As angry as she had become with that last drop, Alice couldn’t cry. She didn’t feel hurt, she felt breathless—but that wasn’t really an emotion. She wanted to scream but that wouldn’t be her wise and controlled self either. James had single handedly humiliated her and shred her to pieces, but Alice felt somehow she had been expecting exactly that from him.

When he took the exit and parked the car on the first possible street, Alice hopped off the car with her purse.

“Where are you going? Alice, be reasonable—”

“I’ll send your things through Emmett.” She slammed the door and marched to a nearby bar, not waiting to watch as he took off.

Alice didn’t stick around in the bar, instead she called an Uber and headed home. Even though they had separate places—something she was always particular about—she could bet that James had gone to Victoria’s house so there was no fear of running into him there.

She was—like Alice had been so used to—all alone.

The next morning the lingering tightness in her chest was still there when her assistant, Bella Swan, woke her up. Alice liked to be on time for things, her schedule was quite busy as a fashion editor, and she was on the verge of finishing up a project. The piece had been handed in and approved, she just needed to do the final tweaks on the design before she embarked onto the next project.

Alice had been awarded for her work, she was a name to be known in Los Angeles, and she knew this much had always intimidated men. In her relationship—or previous one—it was a toxic emotion that tore them apart from the inside out. James not only didn’t appreciate it, but he also never encouraged and went as far as telling Alice he didn’t see the appeal in what she had done.

It was one of the few fights they had, but it had been significant enough for Alice to consider that they wouldn’t work together. If last night was any proof that she had been right all along, Alice’s only regret was not trusting her gut before.

“Heard about you and James.” Bella handed her the coffee with a concerned look. Most of the time she was professional and kept those thoughts to herself, but she still cared about Alice, and she made a point to show it when necessary.

“He’s blabbling about it already?” Alice rolled her eyes, sipping on the mug as she sat by her table.

“He asked Emmett to get his things, Edythe and I were there,” Bella clarified. “We weren’t gossiping or anything.” Alice gave her a nod before putting the mug down, eyeing the computer screen for the designs.

“It’s fine really. He slept with Victoria,” Alice stressed the name because she remembered how Bella didn’t get along with the redhead, and she watched the brunette before her twitch.

“That bitch,” Bella grunted softly. “You know I never had anything against James, it’s Edythe that never liked him. But I could never stand Victoria.”

“Yeah well, turns out you were both right.” Alice sighed, distraught. She should have listened to both her sister and Bella.

Edythe Cullen was Alice’s older sister. They had the closest friendship growing up and often shared things in adult life, but Alice drew the line when it came to her relationships. Alice liked to keep things separate, she already thought it was complicated that her sister’s girlfriend was her employee. But Bella really made her life easier and neater, and didn’t go gossiping to Edythe when things happened, so Alice had nothing to complain about.

It was Emmett McCarty, their cousin, that had introduced Alice to James. The two were friends from college and he had thought they’d make a good match, given how practical and straightforward the used-to-be-couple was. He was wrong, but Alice gave him some credit for trying.

Before she went to bed she had called Emmett as well, she imagined after James already had. She understood now why he had sounded so sympathetic and not nearly as surprised as Alice had expected. She adored Emmett, growing up the giant boy was always the funniest to play with. Edythe was Emmett’s age but she was too closed up in her own little world while Emmett and Alice had been the playful ones. While Edythe had her head stuck inside a book, Alice and Emmett would be pranking people during Thanksgiving dinners.

She felt better after speaking to Emmett and he had actually got something stuck in her mind.

“You need a vacation, you know,” Emmett had told her over the phone. “When was the last time you had one?”

She couldn’t really remember it. “I don’t know, I don’t have time for that.”

“Well, make some, Al. You need a break… Time to heal you know?” His voice was always kind, caring.

“I wouldn’t even know where to go all alone.” But the idea had definitely stuck with her when she went to the empty bed. As alone as she was, it was a more pleasant feeling than the last months she forced herself to lay besides James. There was calm, and relief.

Bella brought over a bagel sandwich that was Alice’s favorite—everything bagel, cream cheese, Canadian bacon, avocado and tomatoes—and she only indulged on that calorie bomb when extremely needed. Alice was grateful that Bella had judged that as being a good time for such. A breakup was surely an excuse for someone to get some comfort food in.

“Thanks,” Alice muttered. Bella gave her a quick sympathetic nod and took a seat across from her on the table.

“When you finish I wanna go over next week’s schedule. There’s some meetings that I need to confirm,” she told Alice, adjusting the reading glasses on her face.

“Actually—” Alice paused, considering again the possibility Emmett had suggested the night before. “I want you to clear my schedule until New Years.”

“Oh.” Bella looked extremely surprised, not even making an effort to hide the jaw dropped gaze. “You never break for the holidays.”

“I know, but now I will.”

“All right.” Bella nodded quickly, making notes. “Should I set up anything with your family?”

Alice chuckled at that because her family also included Edythe and Bella’s in-laws, so she could imagine that there were plans on the making already. But she shook her head.

“I do want you to send them gift-cards, please. I’ll call mom later and let her know. But I’m going to travel,” Alice said, leaving Bella even more confused.

“W—Where?”

“I don’t know yet. I want to go somewhere new—and far.” Alice turned to her screen, opening a map of the globe on Google, and said, “Got any suggestions?”

“Maybe Europe? They have really nice hotels.”

“I don’t know if I want to go to one,” Alice twisted her face.

“I have these friends that did this house exchange thing,” Bella told her, making Alice frown. “It’s very safe, all go through the site. It’s like Airbnb, except you go to their house and they come to yours.”

“That’s brand new to me.” Alice frowned as she typed it in on the search bar, finding it surprisingly fast.

Bella knew her queue when Alice’s eyes were focused on the screen and she responded to her question with a simple nod, so she excused herself to go cancel the calendar for the next few weeks—two to be precise—as it would be a whole lot of work for her, too.

Alice browsed the pages until she landed on a small town, not too far from London, called Guildford. She had picked England for the language—she knew French and Italian as well, but heading to France by herself seemed too depressing, and stopping by Italy and not visiting her father’s Italian cousins would be considered extremely rude by them. She wasn’t even spending the holidays with her own family, she didn’t want to be dragged into the weird cousin’s lair.

Guildford seemed quiet and cozy enough and the cottage picture looked like the most welcoming place she had ever seen. It was not nearly as close to the mansion she lived in, but the white snow covering the garden and the rustic looks might be just the change Alice needed in her life.

The listing read beautifully too, like it had been written by an artist:

Christmas in the countryside. A fairy tale English cottage set in tranquil country garden. Snuggle up by the old brick fireplace and enjoy a glowing fire and a cup of cocoa. An enchanting oasis in a quiet English town forty minutes from exciting London.

Alice immediately clicked to chat with the owner. She had never done this, not even rented an Airbnb, let alone exchange houses with a stranger, so she wasn’t sure how to begin with it.

But Alice was practical so she imagined it had to come handy as she typed.

Alice: I’m interested in renting your house. Is it still available?

Alice: I’m wondering if your house is available this Christmas, because if it is, you could be a real lifesaver. I know it’s ridiculously late to be asking, but if you’re interested please contact me.

After a quick check on the time differences in both countries, she imagined the owner might be asleep, but to her surprise a message popped up.

Rosalie: I’m very interested, but the cottage is really only available for home exchange.

Rosalie: Where are you?

She quickly typed back.

Alice: Los Angeles.

Rosalie: I’ve never been, but always wanted to go. I’m Rose, by the way. I’m very laid back. Very neat, healthy,  a journalist, single.

Alice: I’m Alice. I work in fashion, very organized too. Pretty much a loner, loser and complicated wreck.

Rosalie: Hi.

Alice: Hey.

There was an endearing smile that settled across Alice’s lips. She didn’t know the stranger, but she felt comfortable talking to her. The feeling that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all lingered, it felt promising and Alice could work with that.

They chatted about the space and the towns briefly, Rosalie asking her own questions about Alice’s place but surprisingly never asking to see it. Alice liked that, and gave her a feeling that Rosalie was this fierce and spirited woman, with a will for new adventures. She needed that sort of encouragement, to get her out of her comfort zone.

But one thing still lingered. Alice didn’t want to just go to another town to find herself involved with a foreigner just to forget her ex and make her life all the more complicated. So she questioned Rose if her town had any men. Surely there must be some, but Alice figured Rosalie would understand that, if she was asking, she was trying to mention the single and eligible men. If Rosalie told her there were plenty, Alice would have to dismiss the beautiful cottage and go venture new places—which would be a shame since she was truly liking the place and Rosalie.

The response made her beam.

Rosalie: Honestly? Zero.

Alice: When can I come?

The next day Alice was boarding first class to London. Bella had arranged her schedule, sent her family gift-cards in her name, as well as bought Alice some books to read on the flight—that she ditched for yet another fashion magazine. She had complained to Bella that she never read books anymore and it was kind of her assistant, and friend, to select three different titles for her to try—she was also thankful that none of them had been romances. The murder mystery title by some writer she hadn’t heard about sounded interesting, set near the nineteen-twenties—which Alice greatly liked the sense of fashion—and with some hints of supernatural in it. Alice didn’t get it right away, but she told herself to read that one first, when she made it to the cottage.

She wasn’t planning to hang out at bars or any of the sort, she wanted to give herself time to be on her own. To read a good book by the fireplace, to soak up on a bath, and to take a stroll with the dog Rosalie had mentioned that she had—even though she said Alice didn’t have to worry about the pup because her sister could swing by to take the pet off her hands, she had told Rosalie it would be no trouble to look after it pup, if anything it made for good distraction.

It wasn’t a big and elaborate vacation plan, but it was a plan and she wanted to roll with that. Alice was dying to just relax for a while. She figured if she isolated herself enough to deal with her own internal issues, that lump in her throat and the tightness on her chest that had been driving her nuts would fade, that the claustrophobic loneliness would go away.

——

London was glacial for someone like Alice, who had just flown from the so warm Southern California weather. She definitely hadn’t packed for that—Alice didn’t even think she had clothes at home for that kind of weather. She didn’t travel much outside the States, if she was being honest. Alice had been to the Caribbean a few times but never to Europe, let alone Europe during the winter. But upon her arrival, when she texted Rosalie about a good place to find stores in London, Rosalie had so kindly said Alice could borrow her coats if she needed to.

The two women had been exchanging messages all along and Alice was confident this vacation was something she would like to repeat eventually—perhaps not during the winter. But Rosalie had proven to be the nicest host and they even chit-chatted about cool things Alice could do around London.

She was exhausted and jet-lagged when she arrived though, so Alice took up Rosalie's offer to borrow the coats and headed straight to the cozy cottage awaiting for her.

The place was lovely really and Rose had left a welcome basket for Alice on the dinner table—which made her feel bad for not having left one for her new penpal. It wasn’t too big, the fireplace right next to two comfortable couches and the kitchen right across from the living area. Between the two, a small flight of stairs led to the top floor where a bedroom and an office shared space, two doors led to a small closet and a bathroom. It was like a tiny dollhouse, that Alice seemed to fit right in with her short stature and delicate features.

It was a habit that she had to unpack and organize everything and once that was done, she crashed on the bed, unable to hold back until later in the night. She could catch up with the timezone another time, she figured, since she was on vacation anyway.

At nine o’clock at night she was up and on full alert so she drove to the nearest shop, got herself some groceries, liquor and anything she could snack on during the night; she knew it would be a sleepless one.

She took a bath, drank wine, and even cooked—something she hadn’t done for herself in ages—at the end of the night. It was around one in the morning when she cozied up again on the bed, bored to death. It was like the book was flashing her a sign and Alice hopped to grab the murder mystery on her purse, settling back to read it. Alice couldn’t remember the last time she laid down before bedtime and just read a book, snuggled under the covers, with a cup of tea on the nightstand. For a brief moment, all felt heavenly.

Alice didn’t really recall exactly when she managed to fall asleep, especially how interesting the book was getting around the end of chapter two, but she had at last managed to shut her eyes and actually rest—the book and tea having done a miracle to the woman, she was really beginning to understand the appeal that the British had over tea, it could really relax somebody. The cover set Rosalie had put out for her was also very good, it was like lying down on a cloud. Nothing could disturb her. That was until she heard the loud banging on the door.

Startled, Alice jumped out of bed, the dog running downstairs immediately too, barking at the noise. She quickly grabbed her robe and wrapped it around herself, nearly flying over the stairs when she missed one step.

“Rose! Open up! I need to use the loo,” the female voice called from outside, making Alice turn on the lights to the living room.

She stood by the stairs though, shouting, “Who is this?”

“Bloody hell, I’m freezing out here, Rosalie Hale. Open the door before I pee myself and freeze to death,” the woman shouted back with nervousness in her tone. “I’m going to tell ‘ma about this, Rose!”

Alice realized then, with those words, that the woman could only be Rosalie’s sister, so she rushed to the door and unlocked it. She was met by a towering blonde with a puzzled gaze.

“You’re not Rose,” she told Alice, in sheer confusion.

“No, I’m a friend of hers. We’re doing this house exchange thing. Did she not tell you?” If they were sisters, wouldn’t that be something one would tell their sibling? “Who are you?”

“Oh, bullocks! That must have been what she was calling me about yesterday,” the blond lamented and then her face twisted. “Listen, I know it is very strange, but could I use the loo?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Alice nodded quickly, opening up the door and getting out of the blond’s way. She rushed inside straight to the bathroom and Alice closed the door still in complete confusion.

She went on to sit on the couch and was joined by the pup that hopped on her lap. Alice petted him gently, waiting for the sister to return. She had suspected that the woman was drunk, given the hour and the bathroom urgency, but the last thing Alice had in mind was to take care of someone’s intoxicated sister on her getaway holiday.

When the blond stumbled back into the room, Alice chuckled though, watching as her suspicions confirmed themselves. She cursed under her breath, looking back at the floor as if it had any fault on the fact that she was under the influence of alcohol and tripping on herself.

“Listen, I’m so sorry, I had no idea Rose wouldn’t be here,” she told her, coming to throw herself comfortably on the other couch. Alice sat up straight, stiff on her seat, she didn’t want the woman to get comfortable there. “I’m Jessamine, Rose’s sister. We’re twins.” She chuckled, sighing a little. “Not identical, though.”

Alice hadn’t actually seen Rosalie’s face, as they hadn’t crossed paths on the exchange, so she wouldn’t be able to tell. Instead, she just nodded.

“So, house exchange you said?” Jessamine wondered and Alice just agreed quietly again. “Where is she, anyways?”

“You should really pick up your sister’s calls,” Alice pointed out and the blond chuckled in agreement. “But she’s in my house in Los Angeles.”

“How long is she going to be there?” Jessamine seemed genuinely surprised now.

“Two weeks.”

“And you here?”

Alice nodded again.

“That’s wild!”

Even with the jet lag and the time it was likely too early in Los Angeles, Alice was feeling the wine she had before—along with the sleeping pill—began to sink in more. She was also exhausted with the flight so the last thing she wanted was to be chit-chatting with the stranger.

“Jessamine you said, right?”

“Yeah, but call me Jess, please,” she smiled sideways and for a brief second Alice was slightly taken—she had a very remarkable smile, quite charming.

“Jess,” she gave the blond a smile back, emphasizing the nickname kindly. “I actually just flew in today and I’m very tired.”

Realizing her words, Jessamine was quick to get on her feet.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m here talking my heart out, I didn’t mean to bug you. It must have been a very long flight, indeed.” She was quick and apologetical, looking around for her coat that she had discarded along the way in, as she had headed to the bathroom before.

Alice almost felt bad, hearing her tone and how lost she felt. She certainly looked very tipsy.

“You are not driving, are you?”

“No, no,” Jess said quickly, cheering when she found her jacket. “Normally I crash at Rose’s on days like this so I don’t actually have my car. But I’ll just get an Uber!”

“Oh, nonsense.” Alice shook her head. “You can crash on the couch!”

“I do not want to bother you—Oh, how rude of me, I didn’t even ask your name.” Jessamine finally stopped the excited rampage she had been on since barging in and smiled with defeat.

“Alice. I’m Alice Cullen,” she chuckled—in fact very amused with the energy of the blond—and extended her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Alice,” Jess took her hand, and Alice was surprised by the electricity of the touch. “Jessamine Hale. Just Jess will be fine though.”

“Yeah, you said it,” Alice said with amusement, grinning because Jess was clearly drunk. Was this what, the third introduction?

For what seemed like a long moment, their hands lingered there, connected in the air. Alice only noticed just how much taller Jess was—not that it was too difficult considering just how short Alice was. She hadn’t met such a striking woman before. Her eyes were deep green and her cheek had a slight dimple that seemed to go along so well with her squared jaw and thin lips.The blond messy curls falling to her shoulders making her look like a lioness.

Alice was the first to pull back her hand, feeling her cheeks burn when she realized that she had been staring at the other woman for far too long—longer than what was socially acceptable, or comfortable. Jessamine didn’t seem to mind though, as the smile continued settled across her lips.

“Are you sure I won’t bother you?” she asked Alice then, who shook her head vehemently.

“Just point me to the directions of the extra bedding,” Alice assured her.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can get around with that. Rose normally just lets me in and hops back in bed.” she laughed, walking past Alice to a wardrobe by the staircase, grabbing a set of sheets, blanket and pillow that was perfectly tucked away for her. “I promise I’ll be out before you even notice.”

Alice doubted it, she would rather wake sooner than later.

“You don’t have to rush out, really. Don’t worry,” Alice assured her, making her way to the stairs.

“He really likes you, huh,” Jess pointed out when she saw Rose’s dog following after Alice.

“Normally that’s not the case?”

“Definitely not, this little feral beast is quite difficult. I had had a hard time with him when Rosalie first rescued the pet a few years ago.”

“I guess I’m lucky then!” Alice grinned, heading back to the bedroom.

“Thank you, Alice,” Jess said and saw the brunette stop on her path to look back and nod.

For a short second they exchanged a gaze and both shared a smile.

“Night, Jess.”

“Goodnight, Alice,” Jess said watching as Alice turned off the lights and disappeared to the second floor.

Alice accommodated back on the bed, bringing the pup up there with her, and stared at the ceiling for what felt like the longest time. Alice figured that her sleep might be gone, but there was no strength in her to actually get herself up to read or do something, she felt exhausted.

When she closed her eyes, trying to force herself to sleep, the blond’s smile uninvitedly invaded her mind.

——

It was way past ten in the morning when Alice finally woke up, surprising even herself with the hour. Normally, she’d be up and ready to work out at about eight thirty in the morning, with a coffee mug in hand and ready to work. Alice loved to work. Fashion had been a strong part of her life thanks to her mother, Esme.

While Edythe had her own classic style, that didn’t diverge much from monochromatic sets of jeans and tees, Alice always went all out with her wardrobe. It had changed along the years, progressing from princess dresses when she was a kid to a bit of grunge when she was a teenager until she settled into a minimalist boho with a lot of impact—which meant she dressed some pretty expensive brands, although not specifically designer, with simple pieces and bold accessories.

Building a statement more than a style itself was what fashion was really about and Alice had made that name for herself for those assertive choices she made when she dressed. It was the kind of attention that she liked to draw. Studying trends was the reason she was so excited to ser foot in Europe for the first time.

Even though her father had family in Italy and she was deeply engaged in an international industry, Alice always stayed around New York and Miami fashion week—aside from Los Angeles, of course. A small city near London may not seem like the perfect source of inspiration to all people, but Alice thought it might just be the change she needed in her life to make something brand new and different.

Of course, there was a part of Alice that kept reminding her that she was there to relax and not work—and that part had Bella’s voice, since her assistant had repeatedly reminded Alice about actually taking a vacation and relaxing on the ride to the airport.

Climbing down to the bottom floor, still in her pajamas, Alice was surprised to find the sheets and blankets all neatly folded on top of the couch and Jess by the stove pouring herself a cup of tea. She stepped into the kitchen to join the other woman.

“Hi,” Alice announced her presence, a shy smile set across her lips.

Jessamine turned on her heels, a slight surprise in her eyes.

“Good morning,” she said as she sipped on her tea. “I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”

“I could say the same,” Alice commented with a grin, as she got past the blonde to try and work the coffee machine on the counter.

“About that, I must apologize! I was not my best self last night. Completely uncalled for to barge into here like this,” Jess told Alice with the most apologetic smile. When she gazed over to her, Alice noticed how much more sober she seemed now. There was a contained aura in her that she hadn’t noticed the night before with all the tripping and smirking.

“Ah, that’s all right. You didn’t know Rose wouldn’t be here.” Alice seemed to be having a hard time figuring out the coffee maker, pushing buttons that wouldn’t work. Maybe it didn’t, she thought to herself, maybe all the British did was drink tea and the coffee makers were just for looks.

She didn’t notice when Jessamine stepped closer, silently, hovering over Alice to reach out for something. She was at a loss for words when she turned to gaze at the blonde that was right there, in front of�� her.

Jess was much taller than her, Alice had noticed that the night before, but now, with her standing so close, it felt impressively more. Her eyes darted up to find Jessamine’s green orbs smirking down at her, as if they were reading something in Alice’s soul that she did not know.

When Jess simply connected the plug to the wall, Alice felt awfully foolish and flustered. Both for thinking Jessamine was stripping the depths of her soul, for some reason, and because she hadn’t thought to plug in the device.

“Normally they require power to work.” Jess teased, walking away to resume drinking her tea.

Alice let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, nodding quickly as an attempt to make the blush go away. She looked around for mugs, opening and closing cabinets, and again Jess surprised her by emerging close to her with a cup in hand.

She moved so damn quietly, like a lioness—with the mass of beautiful, curly, blonde hair. Alice had no clue what had gotten into her, but something about the other woman’s energy made her jumpy, bringing a torturous turning to her stomach.

“Thanks,” Alice managed to murmur, letting out another captive breath.

“Mhmhm,” Jess nodded, at last sitting at the dinner table.

It was better that way, knowing where the blonde was standing so she wouldn’t go on surprising Alice with her presence, and lack of respect for others’s personal spaces. With all the cliches about British people, she had guessed they would be all distant and cold, without the fervor one would find in Southern California or other warm central-American countries. But Jess was surprisingly different.

Not only the way she had managed to barge into Alice’s bubble, but how her gaze was so deep—even the night before when she had been drunk.

“So how long are you staying, Alice?” She broke the silence, making Alice gaze her over the shoulder. She knew Jess had been watching her, even with her back turned Alice had felt the eyes observing her movements so closely.

“Two weeks,” Alice told her, even after being under the impression they had gone over that the night before.

“Right! You mentioned she’s spending Christmas there.” Jessamine looked distant for a second, as if her mind had wandered into something important, and Alice was able to catch it when she turned around at last with a coffee in her hands.

“Does she often travel during the Holidays?”

Jess shook her head and Alice wondered if what she saw was worry in her eyes.

“I should probably give her a call later,” Jess concluded quietly.

“You said you two are twins?”

Jess nodded and the frown was replaced by a smile.

“She’s the pretty one,” Jess chuckled. It made Alice wonder what Rosalie looked like because Jessamine was a breathtaking woman already—such a different beauty but all the more striking.

“What does that make you then?” Alice wondered with amusement.

“The brains of the family. Truly, I am the smartest one.” They both laughed at that.

A buzzing on the counter interrupted the moment and Alice was quick to pick up look at the screen where the name Charlotte was written. She realized then how that was not her phone because she didn’t know any Charlotte.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to look.” Alice handed her the phone as quickly as she had taken it.

Jessamine eyed the phone and smiled awkwardly, which immediately made Alice all the more worried how she had invaded the other woman’s privacy like that.

“It’s all right,” Jess nodded. “I’m going to take this one outside.” Clearing her throat, the blonde didn’t wait for a response or avail, going out to pick up the call.

Alice shook off the strange feeling she got, that tightness back on her chest. For a moment she just observed Jessamine from the window, giggling at something over the phone. It was like yet another whole different woman. The night before she had been tipsy and chatty, now she was this contained tall beauty and, outside on the phone, with whoever that was, Jessamine looked her most beautiful—smiling in such clear and sheer happiness.

Forcing herself to look away from the private moment, Alice heated up some toast and buttered it to go along with the simple breakfast. She was never a breakfast kind of person simply because she had no will to cook—and no time for it. Sure, now on a vacation Alice supposed she could do so, but her culinary skills were very limited. She was relying heavily on the nearby places to eat for the next few days.

Jessamine returned tapping her foot on the welcome mat, removing the excess of snow on her boots.

“Listen, I must head out, duty calls.” She made a pause on collecting her jacket to look up at Alice. “But thank you so much for last night. I bloody need to get my act straight and pick up Rose’s calls.”

“You do.” Alice could laugh at that, eyeing over the coffee mug she was sipping on. “And it was no problem really. I wouldn’t have let you drive, you seemed pretty tipsy.”

“Again, I am truly sorry you had to see that.” Her grin was genuine, even when contained. “It was nice meeting you Alice.”

There was a little shiver that ran down Alice’s spine when she heard her name said so politely, Jessamine’s voice had this deep and melodic tune that she hadn’t really noticed the night before, likely for how sleepy she was.

“Nice meeting you too, Jess,” Alice nodded and leaned against the kitchen counter. She watched as Jess reached for the door knob and then hesitated.

“I’m going to be down the street at the pub tonight, with some friends, you should come by if you’re not too busy.”

During the time they exchanged a gaze, right after the invitation, Alice surprised and Jessamine simply smiling enchantedly, something seemed to have struck the brunette. She remembered a few years ago when Edythe had invited her then college friend Bella Swan out on a date. Alice had known her entire life her sister’s preferences, even before it was revealed and welcomed by their family, but she had never seen her in action until then, pursuing someone.

There had been a spark in Edythe’s gaze that Alice hadn’t seen before. She knew for a fact that her sister had been interested in Bella, but that moment was just different than the flirting she did before. And maybe this was a mistaken sensation, she could be wildly wrong, but Alice saw that same drive in Jessamine.

Her words just sounded so charming somehow, more alluring.

But perhaps she was overthinking it. She hadn’t the faintest clue if Jessamine was, in fact, into women, and she wasn’t about to make an embarrassment of herself and ask that.

Instead, Alice nodded. “I’d love to.”

She could have said, sure or of course, but she chose to unintentionally lead her on by saying she would love to. Was she flirting with this woman now? What had come over her?

When Edythe officially came out to their family, their parents had accepted it fully, as if it was always something they knew. They weren’t just supportive, they truly embraced the cause. One too many times Alice had laughed at an embarrassed Edythe over their parent’s joining in on Pride parades—not because she didn’t want them too, Edythe always did smile endearingly at that, it was simply because she always felt more embarrassed by the fervor that Esme and Carlisle adored their family.

They had asked Alice, a while after Edythe came out, if she felt the same way as her older sister did. Alice wasn’t much younger, but she was still in her pre-teens and when she remembered the occasion quite clearly. “I don’t know,” Alice had told them back then. It was something she never gave too much thought. She dated a boy during high school and a couple guys in college, and then James for the past three years.

She never really thought of dating a woman because the opportunity never presented itself. It wasn’t like there was a line of them flirting with her—like they did to Edythe—so Alice just didn’t even consider it a possibility for herself.

Sure, she would look at a woman sometimes and find her stunning—like she had thought of Jessamine—but everyone did, at least everyone she knew had no problem acknowledging others were attractive.

“Wonderful!” Jessamine’s delightful cheer broke Alice’s internal thought and the brunette nodded, as if she had been asked something. “I’ll see you later, Alice.”

“See you, Jess.”

Left alone in the cottage, Alice told herself she was simply overthinking this. She had no idea if Jess was hiting on her and it was ludicrous to even consider that when the two had spoken so briefly in such odd moments. Alice preferred to admit to herself a more plausible idea that Jess actually felt bad for her being alone there and she wanted to be welcoming.

During the rest of the day Alice tried to push the thoughts out of her mind, busying with being a typical tourist instead. She drove to London, visited the Big Ben along with a few sightseeing locations. London was huge and there was much to see still, but she managed to spend a nice afternoon that ended with shopping.

Alice was fascinated with the stores and the different fashion trends all other the big city, so different from the little she had glimpsed from Guildford where she had been staying. At some point between hopping between thrift stores and designer ones, Alice bought an outfit to wear that night.

It was just a bar and she figured there was nothing to it, but Alice didn’t want to just stroll there in jeans, old long sleeves she had brought, winter boots and Rosalie’s jackets—as much as she had appreciated them before, they simply didn’t fit Alice’s style and she also didn’t want to abuse her host’s hospitality. Instead she bought stockings, with the thickest and coziest fabric she’d even seen stockings be made, a dark wine dress, the trendiest trench coat she could find and heeled ankle boots—which she wasn’t sure was the best idea considering how wet the city seemed to be. The forecast was also predicting snow for that night, so Alice hoped she could manage the heels.

Normally wouldn’t be a problem, she was always in heels; being a 4’10 woman didn’t strike such an imposing look. But the snow did complicate things. Jessamine was also one of the tallest people Alice had ever met, Alice was guessing somewhere around 6 feet, so she didn’t want to just be walking next to the giant beauty looking like the shortest person in the room.

When she did walk into the pub later that evening, Alice felt confident and recharged by the big city atmosphere. Jessamine was nowhere to be found, Alice would have spotted the mass of hair from a mile away, so she took a seat at a high table. Ordering a wine and sitting back on the high stool, Alice’s eyes darted anxiously around the room, hoping that she would have missed the blonde. But she really wasn’t there.

They hadn’t exchanged numbers so Alice considered Jess might have changed plans, perhaps gotten better ones. It would be strange being stood up by a stranger on a non-date. But she wasn’t.

Jessamine walked into the pub by herself, removing her jacket to reveal a very simple combination—that made Alice immediately feel overdressed—of jeans, a [British band] tee and scarf. Alice immediately wondered how it was possible for a person to wear a t-shirt in that type of weather. She, personally, had been slightly shivery with the long sleeved dress and wool tights combo. Sure, Jess had a heavy coat over the tee, but it was still not that many layers—she imagined one would get used to living in such harsh weather.

As simple as she was, Jess still looked absolutely breathtaking. It was like there was this quality to her presence and her looks that made her a walking magnet for Alice’s attention.

When Jess finally spotted her and their gazes crossed, Alice shyly waved with a fluttering heart at the blonde’s smile and approach. She walked straight up to Alice, not thinking twice when she leaned over and pressed cheek against Alice’s in a social but very personal manner. It took the brunette by complete surprise, again with the invasion of privacy. What was with this woman and getting so close to Alice?

She couldn’t really say that she disliked it, as a matter of fact it made her pulse rush straight to her cheeks—especially the one she had so casually pressed her chilly skin again. Jessamine’s touch might have been absurdly cold, but it lit a fire in Alice—one she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with yet.

“You came.” Jess broke the silence in a cheery tone, taking the stool next to Alice and waving at the waitress.

“Were you expecting me not to?” Alice rose a brow at Jessamine, quizzically.

“I was hoping you would come, actually.” Her voice came out far too casual and confident at the same time, and Alice was reminded of her earlier gut feeling about the woman. “But I wasn’t quite sure you would.”

“Well, it would be rude not to after I said I would.” Alice shrugged and then, in a quick pause, she realized it might have come out rude by itself. “Not that I didn’t want to—I wanted to come!”

Jessamine laughed gently, nodding at Alice.

“I’m glad. That’s why you’re traveling, right? See new places, meet new people, forget someone.”

That last part got Alice quickly alert. “Did Rose say something?”

Again, Jessamine’s delightful grin caught her off guard. “No, not really. But now I’m guessing I got it right.”

“Well, not to forget anyone, he wasn’t really that important,” Alice explained, feeling a little awkward to be talking about her ex with someone she did not know. “I just wanted some change, I guess.”

“Change is good.” Jess smiled, eyeing what Alice was drinking. “And we should begin with what you’re drinking.”

“What’s wrong with wine?” Alice wondered puzzled.

“For one, it’s white.” Jess gave a look around for the waiter that hadn’t stopped by to get her order. “Secondly, this is a pub. Do you prefer a mixed drink or beer?”

“Which one is the best, in your opinion?”

“Beer, for sure.” Jess chuckled. Alice was even more sure now that Jessamine might be a lesbian. She was definitely fitting the stereotype. But the thought of it made Alice curse herself for immediately jumping to conclusions. It was especially inconsiderate of her considering her own sister did not really fit any of the stereotypes—except the Tumblr lesbian, perhaps, engaged in aesthetics, books and introspective posting.

“I’ll have what you’re having, then.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” Jess told her, reaching out to touch Alice’s arm.

It was such a simple gesture, but it electrified Alice. She had no idea what had gotten over her around Jess. It was as if she was a whole new person, lost inside those deep green eyes.

She tried to shake those thoughts away, quickly checking her phone. It was bursting with notifications from people wondering just where Alice had gone. Aside from her family and Bella, she hadn’t told another soul about the trip. But like everything in Los Angeles, word got around quickly. 

Alice ignored all the demanding messages to open a chat with her sister.

Alice: How do you know a woman is gay?

It didn’t take the other too long to respond, which Alice was grateful for.

Edythe: It’s usually pretty obvious to me

Edythe: … Why? Who is?

Alice: This girl I met here in England. I’m not sure she’s being friendly or hitting on me?

Edythe: I heard the British are not friendly.

Alice had to laugh, knowing it was such an American conception. She shook her head and typed back.

Alice: I guess I’ll find out.

Edythe: Lemme know when you do.

She had no time to respond as Jessamine returned to the table carrying two large beers and Alice pushed the phone into her purse, smiling at the blonde.

“The house brew,” Jess announced, handing her one of the glasses. “My friends are not here yet but we can get started. Cheers!”

Alice laughed, clicking their glasses together. “Cheers!”

Jess took a long gulp and Alice watched, trying to follow her rhythm by doing the same. Alice was lightweight, and short, so she realized quickly that even if she tried, she would not be able to keep with Jess.

“Whoa, how many ounces in this? It’s like, huge.”

Jess laughed. “Blimey, you Americans with your measurements. I have no clue in ounces, but it has a liter.”

“That’s a lot of beer, Jess.” Alice gasped but with amusement.

“Ah, that’s nothing. I drink at least two,” she told her casually, followed by a soft shrug. “It’s very chilly tonight, you’ll burn it real fast.”

“It is very cold! And you’re in a tee.” Alice pointed out, at last finding the gap to comment on the blonde’s choice in clothing.

“And you’re in a dress.” Jess accused playfully, sipping some more of the glass. “Very gorgeous, in fact.” Alice flustered, realizing how Jessamine had, in fact, noticed. “But us Brits, we’re just used to the weather. Not like you yankees.”

Alice laughed soundly and the bickering. She never had anything against the British—Alice actually found their accent extremely charming—but it was shockingly impressive how they liked to pick at the Americans.

“I’ll have you know we have pretty heavy weathers all over the country!” Alice had no idea why she was defending her country to the woman, but centuries of patriotism spoke louder for her.

“In Southern California? That’s not what I learned in geography.” Jess taunted.

“Well, not in SoCal—unless you drive up to the mountains, but even then is not guaranteed,” Alice explained, sipping on the beer.

“Have you ever seen snow before?”

“Actually, not really.” Alice bit her lip, watching the shock in Jessamine’s face.

“Bloody hell, that’s wild,” Jess chuckled, taking another gulp on the beer. “If we’re lucky, you may catch it tonight! And not just the half-ass melted puddles. There’s going to be a real fall tonight.”

Alice nodded, “Yeah, I read about it. I’m actually hoping to see it.”

“It’s not that fun living with snow up to your knees, but for a vacation I guess it should be a fun experience.” Jessamine smiled and went on, “I personally don’t know what’s like to not have a white Christmas.”

“California gets to sixty-five at this time of the year, tops.”

“There you go again with yankee measurements,” Jess teased, both of them laughing. “What’s that in Celsius?”

“Oh, I have no idea.” Alice chuckled.

Jessamine was already halfway through her beer when her phone buzzed. She read over a text as Alice’s eyes finally had a chance to look at the woman without being noticed. The light wasn’t any better than the night before with just a few bulbs lit up, but the advantage was way better than this morning where Jess was either too far or with her eyes on Alice. No, she decided this was a perfect setting to look at her.

Her leonine hair cascaded over her shoulders, beautiful golden curls molding her squared jaw and dimpled cheeks. Her nose was long and sharp, the lips thin lines constantly tilting up more to one side than the other in a very attractive side smirk dancing on her mouth. The eyes were the deepest green Alice had ever seen. And then there was her body. Jessamine was so ridiculously tall—or perhaps it was just Alice that was short—and not just any kind of tall. Her legs long, her figure slender. She didn’t have that many curves aside from a very pompous chest.

Alice couldn’t deny how extremely attractive she was, but there was also this energy coming from her. She guessed it had to be the niceness, the way her eyes smiled at her—a wild idea, but one that Alice definitely felt drawn to—it made her feel lost and confused.

It wasn’t a feeling that she was used to, being so unsure of her emotions. Alice had a grip of her own life, she could track down everything that happened with her, decipher and understand it. But with Jessamine she felt utterly out of control. It was frustrating. Was she only being friendly or is she actually flirting? Was Jessamine even into girls, or was Alice simply finding herself attracted to women? Or was she simply attracted to this woman?

Her heart nearly dropped when Jessamine suddenly gazed her with a smile like she knew what Alice was feeling. She couldn’t explain it, obviously it was impossible that Jess could know. Alice hadn’t voiced anything out loud, but something in the blonde’s grin made the brunette question whether or not she had said something without noticing. She hadn’t and yet Jess knew.

“Sorry about that,” Jessamine interrupted the turmoil inside Alice, putting her phone away. “Turns out my friends can’t make it.”

“Oh?” Alice felt the blush return to her cheeks with the realization that it would be just the two of them.

Jessamine seemed to notice that too, because she laughed with amusement. “Is that a problem, Alice?”

“No, not at all.” Alice shook her head so promptly, eyes wide with worry that she had offended Jessamine somehow. “I just—I’m worried I’ll bore you to death!”

The sound of her laugh, Alice decided perhaps way too fast, it was one of the most captivating sounds she had ever heard.

“I find that quite impossible.”

Alice hadn’t noticed when Jess’s glass was so close to end, but, as she watched her chug down the last sip, she as if she was falling behind and reached for her own glass to take a long swing of it.

“You don’t have to keep up, Alice, don’t worry,” Jess mused and Alice felt a challenge in her tone. “You seem quite the light weight.”

“I can handle my booze,” Alice retorted amusedly. Jessamine hadn’t really verbally challenged her, but the competitive spirit inside her told Alice to go for it, so she took a final gulp on the beer.

“I guess I’ll get us another then,” Jess said as she picked the beer mugs. “I must say, you are really surprising, Alice.”

She didn’t leave her any room to respond, walking away to the bar to refill them, those last words leaving a fuzzy feeling on the pitch of her stomach. Or was it just the beer? No, Alice decided it was definitely butterflies. She liked that Jessamine found her surprising. She wanted to be that—surprising, different, new. Alice was bored of her dull old self, her unhappy and pathetic self.

——

The snow began falling heavy sometime around one in the morning. By then Jessamine and Alice had had one too many drinks at the pub, but Jess had managed to get them out of there before it was complete chaos. They were walking back to the cottage where Alice had invited Jessamine to stay, on the couch—although she had not said to Jessamine that was where she would be staying, Alice was assuming the blonde knew. They had been chatty and at times even slightly flirty throughout the night, but she had chosen to read it as mere drunk banter.

Alice still had no clue of Jessamine’s preferences and she wasn’t about to bluntly ask it—or worse, make a move on her. There hadn’t been a moment Alice felt there was an opening for such talk. They had talked about life and work, but not romantic involvements. She actually had appreciated the light talk as it served to get her mind off all those wild thoughts roaming her mind.

She had found out that Jessamine worked as a book editor so most of her work was done from home. Alice had loved to picture Jess in a house with tall bookshelves, filled with titles, sitting by a couch while she read some new author’s manuscript. Alice adored that Jessamine was into books—even though Alice hadn’t been reading many in the past years—because she thought it fit her personality so well.

They chatted about the genres that were her favorites and Alice mentioned the murder mystery she had begun reading the night before, and that she would show it to her once they were back in the cottage.

At some point in the night Jess had managed to turn the conversation around and Alice told her about being a fashion designer in Los Angeles, and how her dream was to launch a collection of her own instead of just working for other people. Alice realized then how she had never shared that with anyone and Jess’s reception to it made her heart skip for a moment. It was silly, but Alice felt happy that the woman enjoyed the idea—and that she had complimented her style after that.

It was a night for many discoveries, as Alice couldn’t really recall the last night she had such a great talk with someone—even with James when they started dating, it was never like this—and to feel so connected about the little things.

When, halfway to the cottage, the snowflakes began falling over them, the night seemed like it couldn’t get any better.

“It’s snowing!” Alice beamed like a happy child, looking up to the night sky.

“Your first snow.” Jess grinned, her eyes falling on Alice instead, who was in sheer joy.

“It feels so soft,” she giggled. She was feeling more than tipsy but not drunk enough to feel sick, so it was a sublime bliss when the chilly drops fell over her cheeks. “Don’t you just love it?”

Alice’s eyes fell back on Jessamine and Jess was definitely staring at her, shamelessly now, her gaze so admiring and so soft at Alice. She was taken by the intensity that her look struck on her, it was amused but somehow serious, decisive. When Jess took a few steps forward, her hands reaching for Alice’s cheek, she felt her heart about to burst against her chest.

“You’ve got some on your lashes,” Jess whispered, her cold fingers brushing against Alice’s temple. Her touch was so soft that she almost closed her eyes to the sensation, but they were too alert on the blonde, gazing at her green orbs.

Jessamine didn’t flinch, her smile so large as Alice turned completely red, and she just brushed her fingertips over her cheeks. Such a small gesture and so potent, lighting up a fire inside Alice. She felt like she could remove her coat and it would still be too warm inside her, even after Jess broke away.

“C’mon, Alice, I’m freezing my arse off. Cottage is just up there,” Jess said playfully, looking utterly satisfied with Alice’s reaction.

She led the way, looking briefly over her shoulders to see if Alice would follow, which she did with some delay, skipping to keep up with the long legged beauty.

Back in the house, Jess went immediately to light up the fireplace while Alice seemed to be burning up inside. She stripped her coat and the high heel ankle boots, tossing both inside the closet by the entrance. Tiptoeing to the living room—grateful for the wool stockings to be warm against the cold floor—she found a spot on the largest couch to sink into. Jess turned around and they both smiled—the blonde at the sight and the brunette at her.

“Do you want tea?” Jess asked and Alice shook her head. She couldn’t voice what she really wanted, not when her coherent thoughts were blurred by alcohol. It would not be reasonable to say she had this unfounded want to kiss her, not when they had just met. But at least she was sober just enough to think that saying that would be a bad idea.

“If you want—”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Jess was quick to say and suddenly Alice spotted some nervousness. Maybe Jess wanted to sleep and Alice was taking up the couch.

“Do you want to sleep?” She got up too quickly and felt alcohol sinking in her system, her brain protesting the sudden movement.

“Alice, I’m all right.” Jess held her waist when Alice looked like she was about to fall, but it was the closeness that took her breath away.

Now without her heels, Alice was again way shorter than Jess and she had to look up to meet her gaze—not the best for either of their necks.

“Let’s sit,” Jess suggested and guided Alice back. She searched around for a blanket and when she joined Alice on the couch it was to cover them both. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Alice brought her legs up, cozying up under the covers. It wasn’t until Jessamine’s knee pressed against hers that she realized how close they sat. Her heart was racing again and she was beginning to feel like a silly teenager, tiptoeing around feelings.

“Tonight was fun,” Jess told her, bringing Alice back to now.

“It really was. I hadn’t laughed this much in forever.”

“That’s a shame.” Jess did the bold thing and reached to hold Alice’s hand. “You have a great laugh, you should always be laughing.”

It was the way she said it that made Alice realize how she really was attracted to this woman. And she suspected now, with them cuddled under the covers and holding hands, that the sentiment was mutual.

“So is yours, you know,” Alice told her quietly.

Silence settled in, their gaze focused on each other. Alice bit on her lower lip as she watched when the switch turned between them, Jessamine’s eyes falling on Alice’s lips before her gaze met hers again. They were sitting so close that it didn’t take much, all she had to do was bend over slightly and their lips met.

The small sigh escaping Alice’s lips was of sheer content, a sentiment of belonging she hadn’t felt before. Jessamine cradled her head dragging her in and Alice allowed it, willingly, as her tongue slid in to meet hers. It wasn’t hurried—but it was sure deep—Jess was tasting her like a sweet cherry, delighting in every inch of Alice’s mouth. She tasted delicious, so soft and sweet, Alice decided mentally. Jess was different from everything she had experienced, not because she was a woman but because of her giving and loving way. How she cared, it was obvious. Jess fingers gentle against her scalp, the knee that softly rubbed against Alice’s.

All made her feel bold, a hand sprawling against Jessamine’s thigh, feeling the cold jeans and the frustration that took over because she wanted skin instead. Alice had never been too touchy, or eager for contact, but the way Jessamine’s lips pressed down her jaw and her neck made her feel anxious with anticipation. They were gentle lips, brushing against her skin, but the teeth that nibbled her jugular were rougher, they lit up fires Alice didn’t know she had inside her.

Her hands perched inside Jess’s blonde curls, not tugging at them just yet, but dragging her back to her lips. This time it wasn’t soft or gentle, the intensity of it made Jess hover over Alice who laid back on the couch taking Jess on top of her, their fingertips creeping everywhere they could reach. Alice let her fingers under Jessamine’s shirt, feeling her sides, touching up her stomach.

Alice had never touched a woman that way, so lewd, and the welcoming silky skin pressed against her own was chilly. She had no time to doubt or question herself as Jessamine hooked her knee to raise one of her legs and hook it around her frame. Jess’s body pressing down against Alice, pushing her to the couch, granted her a sigh. It wasn’t so much that she enjoyed the pressure only, but the way that Jess’s hand dotted on her legs with caresses and grips.

Jessamine ran her hand further, under her dress, looking for the ends of the pantyhose so she could pull the wool out of their way. Alice wasn’t like Jess who had legs for days, so it wasn’t a hard array to get rid of them. She wasn’t prepared for the slow kisses the blonde traced up her leg, taking longer to press her lips on Alice’s thighs and take her breath away. They were hurried and anxious for more skin, more touch, but they were still taking their time to explore each other.

Lifting her dress, Jesse traced the kisses up her stomach only to realize the dress would present more complicated.

“Where’s the uh—?” She looked up and Alice nearly lost it, drawn by the lust in her gaze like it was a rope of emotion tying around her. Alice wanted to pull her up and devour her lips, but she half sat up instead, pulling the zipper down.

Jess assisted her, discarding the dress over her shoulders. Alice wasn’t wearing a bra—the velvety fabric too tight against her skin to have allowed her such—and Jess traced from her belly button to her breasts. They were nothing particular, not large and not too flat, but Jess’s attention and devotion were all toward them with gentle palms and bold thumbs brushing her nipples.

Alice sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten such attention. Sex didn’t normally involve foreplay—it was one and done—and she enjoyed how Jess was worshiping  her body, replacing her fingers with her lips at some point. It made her lose her senses, her head tilting back as the groan got stuck in her throat—which Jess noticed, but didn’t comment. Instead she seemed more willing to help Alice just let go and give into pleasure, her teeth lightly nibbling her nipple.s 

Alice’s fingers tangled again on blonde locks, tugging them this time. Alice was briefly aware how Jess was still fully dressed. She wanted to feel her too, press their bodies close together. She dragged her lips back to hers, kissing her so deep and hard Jess gasped in surprise.

She drove her fingers anxiously to her tee, pulling it, and Jess got the message, removing the fabric. Alice had never removed another woman’s bra, but she had enough practice throughout her lifetime to just easily unhook Jess’s, tossing it to the side—where a noise of something cracking followed. Jess grinned against Alice’s lips as she pulled her small figure on her lap.

Alice straddled her, arching her body against Jess, the friction of their skins making her sigh. Women were so soft, so deliciously alluring, she had never considered it before and she had no clue as to why. Jess’s hands running up her spine, her breasts pressed against hers, it was heavenly.

Jessamine moved them again, setting Alice back against the couch while her body hovered hers, a hand trailing down her body. Alice couldn’t hold in the moan when Jess touched her, over the fabric of the panties, feeling the warmth she emanated for her.

“When was the last time you were touched?” Jessamine wondered out loud, her voice hoarse and eyes dark, watching Alice’s every reaction to every small circling her fingers did over her center.

Her squirming under Jess answered the question—too long.

Jessamine decided to move down then, dragging Alice’s panties down until she was lying there, sprawled and naked in front of her. Alice met her gaze, watching Jess’s delay to contemplate the sight that was the brunette, hot and surrounded.

Spreading her knees, Jess high dived between her legs, kissing and biting her thighs before her tongue met her center and Alice at last let out the moan that had been trapped in her throat.

She was an eager lover, delving into her center, tongue spreading her further open with absurd need and desire. Jess liked to give, almost as if making Alice scream was her own personal undoing. And Alice gave it to her, hands gripping her locks and the couch pillows, hips thrusting back against Jessamine’s mouth. Every lapping of her center, every suck on her clit, all making Alice louder each time.

When Jess pushed her long fingers inside her, Alice was nearly undone, and then Jess curled her fingers just the right way that sent Alice off a high cliff—Jess’s name on her lips as she lost all coherent thought.

Jess was still kissing her thighs and planting kisses on her mound when Alice came back to her senses, breathless. She couldn’t remember the last time she had an orgasm, let alone such a good one. Her eyes darted down to meet Jess’s and Alice just giggled—she never did such a thing.

“Wow,” Alice managed out, biting her lip.

Jessamine didn’t say anything, she simply chuckled, moving on top of Alice again. The kiss was tender this time, still filled with the laziness of Alice’s climax. Alice could taste herself on Jess’s lip and she could feel the lewd desire still pouring from the blonde. Alice’s fingers traced her stomach and stopped at her jeans.

“Take them off,” Alice’s tone was bossy and Jess obliged, stripping off the remaining pieces of clothes.

She was still on top of her when Alice reached to touch her this time, massaging her center. She may have never had sex with a woman, but Alice was not naive and she knew how she liked to be touched. Following her gut, she massaged Jess’s clit and the approval came as a little sigh.

When their lips met again it was like fervor took over them, an uncontrollable passion that Alice had been locking away without knowing. She massaged and pinched her until Jess wasn’t able to hold her weight on top of Alice anymore. Then she slipped her fingers in and thrust, strong small curls of her delicate fingers.

Alice broke from the kiss to look at Jess when the blonde crashed, eyes shut tight and body shuddering on top of her. What a sight she was, Alice gasped in awe of her undoing. She waited until Jess was watching her, and maybe the alcohol still in her system or the cloud of lust surrounding them, but Alice waited before she brought her fingers to her lips to lick them—to taste Jess.

“Fuck,” Jess groaned low as she watched Alice. “That’s hot.” Their grins filled up the room. Jess was shaky as their mouths met again, exploring Alice’s mouth slowly, like she had on that first kiss.

They seemed to have moved so fast, but when Alice gazed over Jess’s shoulder to the clock, it was way past three. The lethargic bliss of sex, the alcohol beginning to wear off and the lateness made her yawn, and Jess followed.

“Wanna go to bed with me, or is that not—?” Alice couldn’t finish, as Jess was already standing and pulling her up. What she wasn’t expecting was to be swung into Jess’s arms when the blonde lifted both her thighs.

Alice grinned, holding onto her like dear life, her legs wrapped tight around her waist as she leaned to peck her lips.

They rolled onto the mattress, under the thick duvet,  and Alice sighed in sheer content when Jess held an arm around her waist, cuddling her from behind, her long body so tightly pressed against hers the perfect shelter. Alice was drifting quickly and she couldn’t stop to panic over the fact they were cuddling—and how she never really cuddled her partners. Instead, she let herself fall asleep in her arms like the world was free of any worries. It was just them on a snowy night, utterly hammered and blinded by delicious sex.

——

Alice was alone when she woke up, the warm sheets covering her unable to mask the coldness of the empty spot beside her. Jess had left. She shouldn’t be so surprised, or disappointed. They’d had drinks, they’d had sex, she had left. It was no different from some previous encounters Alice had—except she could now add “women also leaving in the morning” to the list. The regret and defeat made her not want to leave the bed, she wanted to sink into the duvet and never leave again. But she forced herself out.

Stepping on the chilly floor, Alice tiptoed naked to the bathroom to run the tub. She smelled of Jessamine everywhere on her skin and as much as she wanted the scent and her touch to linger, the day was dreadfully cold and she wanted to sink in her problems—since it was far too early to do so with a glass of wine.

She searched the cabinets for some oils or scents to pour in the water, anything that would aid picking up her broken ego, but all there was were Rose’s liquid soaps and skincare products. It would have to be just warm water and the faint memory of the night before.

“I hope the bath is for the both of us.”

When Alice turned around Jess was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a foolish grin. Alice jumped, startled, which made Jessamine chuckle.

“Oh, God, you scared me,” Alice gasped, bringing her hand to her chest hoping it would slow down her heart. But looking up to the sight of Jess wearing nothing but her robe only made Alice’s heart beat faster.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Jess mused, that enchanting smile crossing her lips.

“No, I just thought you had left—” Alice cut herself off, feeling silly for having thought that, especially with the sight of Jess wearing her robe. It made her quickly realize how she was bare to the bone, which perhaps explained Jessamine’s grin. There was really no point in covering herself now, but Alice still flustered.

“Did you want me to? I can go…” Jess gestured with her thumb that she could simply leave and Alice quickly shook her head, she surely wanted Jess to stay.

“No, no—stay,” Alice said quietly, biting her lower lip.

Jess smiled what Alice thought could be the most stunning smile she had ever seen her entire life. It took all the courage in her to walk up to her and undo the ties of the robe and pull the fabric down.

“The bath was just for me, but I would love it if you joined,” she whispered, eyes gazing up at Jess’s wry smile.

Alice watched her smile grow as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to meet Jess’s lips. She obliged, meeting Alice halfway, bending down to greet the kiss with eagerness. No heels, no questioning their emotions, completely naked in each other’s arms. They looked like an erotic renaissance painting. The tall and the short one, blonde and brunette, two women diving into passion and lust.

The bathroom was a mess when they finished, water having overflowed with their eagerness to give each other some more of that sublime pleasure. They were no longer drunk, except for the inebriation that came with being one another. But they had not yet talked about the night before—or that morning, their sex drive being stronger than any words. As they slipped downstairs to eat something, Jessamine in a bathrobe and Alice with a towel around her slim figure, they were bound to talk.

“Breakfast is cold,” Jessamine said as she turned the stove to reheat the toast. Alice sat at the table, watching her decide whether or not the ham needed the same treatment. “Do you eat meat?”

“Yeah, meat’s all right,” Alice wondered with a frown, what was it that Jess was cooking up.

“How about eggs, how do you like them?”

“Just sunny side up,” she shrugged. “What is that you’re making?”

“English breakfast. Well, not a full one since you didn’t have tomatoes or beans and some other things, in the fridge.” Jessamine flipped the toasts and looked over her shoulder with a smile. “Essentially just toast, egg and ham then.”

Alice could settle for that. She normally had a smoothie or something lighter, but Jess was cooking and she was enjoying that sight. James had never cooked for her. She didn’t want to be comparing the two, as they were utterly different people, but it was a thought she couldn’t shake off. Jessamine barely knew her that well and there she was, making her come first thing in the morning and cooking her food.

It wasn’t a usual feeling for her, Alice had grown used to not being fully liked. Her relationships had either been casual or never lasted. It was a nice change how Jess dotted on her with very small things—like grabbing her beer, or sneaking kisses to her neck and cooking.

She never thought the cooking would be this remarkably important, but it turned out Alice enjoyed it a lot.

“Sounds delicious,” she told Jess, smiling largely. “Can I help?”

“Ah, well, it’s pretty much done. I was going to bring it upstairs when I heard the tub running and you know what happened after.” Jess shot her a smirk that made Alice glad to be seated. That explained though why she hadn’t found Jess in the morning. Alice felt even sillier for being so distressed before when she hadn’t even bothered to look before jumping to conclusions.  “If you can boil us the water for tea, that would be lovely. Unless you want coffee.”

Normally Alice would always go for coffee, but she was in a mood for trying new things.

“I can go for tea.”

“Wonderful.” Jess pointed at the kettle and Alice prompted herself up.

They moved in a little dance in the small kitchen, Jess reaching over Alice for plates, while she snuck under Jess’s arm to fill up the water. At some given point, both done with their tasks, Alice found herself trapped between Jessamine and the counter—a position she found she quite enjoyed. She smirked down at the brunette before lifting her up to the counter, their heights at a much bigger advantage now.

Jess kissed her slow, the taste of her a delicious drug Alice was growing slowly addicted to. She spread her hands on Alice’s thighs to tug her closer and deepen the kiss. Short legs hooking tight on the tall woman, fingers tugging at blonde locks, Alice was quickly feeling heated up again.

When they stopped for air, neither of them pulled back, Alice’s forehead resting against Jess’s.

“Breakfast is going to get cold again,” Alice whispered before she initiated another kiss and ignited another heated fire between them.

It would have gone cold again, as Jessamine’s hand was already slipping between Alice’s legs even with the kettle screaming by them, but the buzzing of the phone interrupted them, both groaning in discontent.

“I think it’s mine,” Jess whispered against Alice’s lips.

“Let it ring…”

“It could be important, actually,” she pulled back but not without reluctance. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Alice nodded trying to catch her breath.

When Jess pulled back, Alice hopped off the counter and took the water off the stove, serving them two cups. She took them to the table, sitting by her plate, but her ears got quickly alert to the conversation. She had called someone darling and the realization that this someone could be a woman Jessamine saw, like she had seen Alice the night before, suddenly sunk in. People did that all the time, had a one night stand—especially if they knew that there was no commitment involved because the person lived across the globe.

Alice tried to not think too much of it, maybe it was nothing, she could simply be overthinking it. She had no right or reason to be upset, they fucked and that was it.

“Don’t worry, Leah, I’ll be home soon,” Jess said on the phone before she hung up.

Her expression was clearly changed when she came back to the table and Alice felt her heart sink even further.

“Alice, I’m so sorry, I actually have to run,” Jessamine sounded apologetically and Alice just nodded.

“I get it,” she sighed, her disappointment quite clear.

Jess opened her mouth to say something but nothing really came out. Instead she walked up to Alice and leaned over to kiss her.

“I—I hope you enjoy the breakfast.” Jess smiled when she pulled back, watching Alice nod again. Alice’s smile was clearly fake, but it seemed Jessamine was in too much of a hurry to notice.

She only slowed down by the door, looking back at Alice before she went out.

“I loved meeting you, Alice.” Her whisper was almost inaudible, but Alice heard her from across the room and the  parting smile they exchanged was sad.

After Jessamine was gone, Alice cleaned up the kitchen, saving to eat Jess’s plate later or the next day. After breakfast she cleaned the living room. Over the center table with a broken vase was Jessamine’s bra that Alice had so eagerly tossed aside the night before. Alice folded the piece and set it neatly on the table, removing the broken vase pieces.

The thought that crossed her mind made Alice curse under her breath. Jessamine had sneaked away and she could just simply leave it there—it was her sister’s house after all—instead of trying to return it.

Still, she called up Rosalie.

“Hi, Rose,” she said cheerily on the phone.

“Alice, so good to hear from you! How’s England treating you? I hope you’re enjoying everything there,” Rose said, excitedly as well.

“Oh, everything is great! The cottage is so nice, and I visited the city the other day.”

“I hope it isn’t too lonesome? Listen, if you want I can call up my sister and she can show you around,” she suggested, making Alice clear her throat.

“She actually stopped by, yeah.”

“That’s wonderful you made acquaintances already.” Rose sounded relieved and Alice grinned nervously.

“She actually forgot something of hers here and I don’t really have her number—”

“I’ll text you! If you would rather, actually, I can send the address as well. She’s right in London, not  far from there.”

“Oh, sure, thank you!” Alice wasn’t sure she could just show up there, if it would be barging into the other woman’s space, but perhaps she could text and mention the bra. “How are you liking Los Angeles?”

“I’m loving it here! I met your cousin.” There was a long pause and it seemed both were waiting for the other to continue.

“Emmett?”

“Yeah! He came to pick your ex’s things…”

“Thank God,” Alice laughed, at least she could be relieved James’s things wouldn’t be there when she returned. “He’s really amazing, Emmett.”

“He really is. He was showing me around,” Rose cleared her throat and for some reason Alice felt that it meant the same thing as when she did it about Jess.

“I’m happy you two are having fun!” Alice grinned. “I don’t want to keep you from it!”

“Nonsense, I’m loving chatting with you,” Rose laughed lightly and Alice nodded at it—even though Rosalie couldn’t really see it.

“Me too, Rose!”

They chatted for over half an hour until Rose had to go meet Emmett, like they had arranged to do. Alice was faced with her own turmoil after the call was over. Should she text or call Jessamine? Should she show up at her door? She felt the second might be crossing a boundary too strongly. She didn’t want to be that kind of woman, so she went with the first option.

Alice: Hi, it’s Alice. Rose gave me your number.

Alice: I hope I’m not intruding or anything, it’s just that you forgot your bra here. Should I leave it somewhere? I don’t know if you would want your sister to find it here. Then again you do crash here a lot, so that might have been a silly thought.

She felt stupid, like she couldn’t properly text anymore. Alice had always been so sure of things, so certain and direct. And with Jessamine she didn’t know hot to act, kept circling around like a foolish teen. The messages were sent though, trying to further explain herself would only make it worse.

Jess: Hey!

Jess: Well, I’m not going to be in the area until next week, I think. But maybe if you’re in London we can meet up.

Alice was surprised with the quick response, but she couldn’t read if there was enthusiasm or not and cursed herself for not having called instead—she hated text messages.

Alice: I’m actually planning to go sightseeing tomorrow, I could drop it off with you.

Jess: Yeah, just text me when you’re in the area!

Alice: Will do.

It felt better in the end, being brief and short, distant.

When she curled in bed later that night, with her copy of Blood In The Shoe—the murder mystery she had been reading—, Alice had Jessamine’s scent surrounding her, the smell of her stuck in the sheets and the duvet and it seemed to involve Alice like a string of calmness as she read. The characters were so particularly peculiar on the tale—the girl so direct and so bold felt like her own self, she liked that feisty suspect of the murder—even if she questioned whether or not the woman was in fact a murderer.

Those types of stories could really capture Alice, she had a thing for mystery and the thought of it made her close the book at the end of chapter three. As eager as she was for finding out the end, Alice’s mind kept drifting off to the tall blonde that had driven her wild the night before—and funnily enough the detective in the story was also a tall blond. Maybe that was what made her think of Jessamine.

Alice avoided getting involved at all costs, it was simply something she didn’t allow herself to do. When she was a teenager she had and it only resulted in tears and heartbreak. She had dated this boy who had replaced her for someone else, and not just anybody, her best friend at the time. Alice had never cried so much. Now when she looked back at it, it had been such a silly array. But Alice promised she would never cry because of love ever again, or for anyone.

It became well known that she was an ice queen in relationships, never giving herself in, always a step back in emotional involvement, all for her own good. And she was happy that way, at least it was easier. Not getting attached and always being ready for it to end meant she didn’t get to feel like crap again. It should be easier, but it wasn’t. She might not cry, but Alice could still feel things, after all she was only human. Avoiding and locking it away just meant she didn’t have to deal with it.

Somehow, it felt different when it came to Jessamine.

——

The next day Alice visited some spots she had wanted to see in London, but Buckingham  Palace still remained. It was about to get dark and she still hadn’t heard back from Jessamine to do the drop off. Alice had texted her earlier in the day to let her know she was around, but there was no answer. She had the address but she didn’t want to simply show up there, Alice just felt it would be all too strange. But she hated driving on the wrong side of the road, and doing so at night would be scary and dreadful.

Alice told herself she would leave it at the door and simply write a note explaining why she left there and how she had the address. Something simple like: Rose gave me the address, had to run. Maybe add how nice it was that they had met—no, that would be too foolish. The simple note would do. Except she didn’t have a paper, or a pen. She would have to explain it to Jess herself.

Braving through the open gate and charming front yard, Alice rang the bell and regretted it the following second.

Placing the bag on the ground, she turned to simply leave before Jess could see her. She would leave a text explaining after and hoped that would be better. But before she could give more than three steps, the door cracked open.

“Alice?”

She stopped on her track, cursing under her breath before she turned around with a smile.

“Hi—”

“Hey… What are—”

Before Jess could even ask, Alice cut her off to begin explaining.

“I’m so sorry, I really don’t mean to barge in. I hate the freaking wrong sided road and I had to head home before it got too dark. Rose gave me your address and I was just going to drop with a note, but I had no pen or paper so I figured I would give it to you. But then it sunk on me how absurd and ridiculous would be when you opened the door to see me and thought would be better to just leave there and text you later and now—Oh well, now this is much worse than I had foreseen it,” she rambled and Jessamine could only give her a wry smile—that didn’t help Alice’s trail of thought at all—looking down at the bag on the floor.

She picked it up, seeing the bra inside it made Jess smile. Alice hoped foolishly that it was because of the memory of their night, even though she felt it might be for how ridiculous she had just sounded.

“Thank you for bringing it. I’m sorry I didn’t return your text, it was really a god awful day,” Jess apologized. Before she could go on though, a head popped at the door. A child.

Alice was immediately shocked and then a second little girl, even younger than the other, appeared.

“Mommy, who’s that?”

It all happened too fast in Alice’s mind, as she pictured Jessamine with a husband and a family, a true housewife, having escapades with women she found at bars—or at her twin’s house. Alice felt her stomach turn, thinking she was someone’s affair. How stupid she had been!

“That’s a friend of mine, Leah,” Jess told the youngest one and Alice immediately recalled the phone call she had in the morning that made her rush out.

Alice was still staring at the children in awe when the oldest poked Jess’s leg.

“Alice, this is Charlotte and Leah, my daughters. Girls, this is mommy’s friend Alice.” Jessamine looked at Alice, apologetically.

“Nice meeting you Alice, would you like to come in?” Charlotte, the oldest, said so kindly and smiled.

“Oh—I—” This was totally outside Alice’s realm so she looked up to Jessamine for approval. She nodded promptly. “Sure, thank you, Charlotte.”

The three made way and Alice stepped into something that looked right out of a wild dream. Jess helped Alice with her coat as the girls ran into the living room. When they were briefly left alone, Alice eyed Jessamine with shocked inquisition, eyes quickly darting around looking for a husband.

“W-i-d-o-w,” Jessamine spelled so that it wouldn’t be easily caught by the distracted girls. Alice stopped on her track and looked at Jess like she had been punched on the stomach—it was worse. Not for the little affair they had, of course, but the fact Jessamine had lost someone she loved enough to build a family, it just made her feel so bad for her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Jess,” Alice mumbled as Jessamine trailed off.

“It’s quite all right now. Maria passed five years ago,” Jess said, seeing how Alice looked like she was slapped on the face again. “I’m a lesbian, you know that right?” She was amusedly chuckling.

“Yeah, I figured as much, I just—” Alice looked over her shoulder to where the girls were playing.

Before Jessamine could explain it though, they came running to meet the two adults.

“Mommy, she’s so pretty,” Leah said, looking at Alice in awe.

“Oh, thank you.”

“I quite agree,” Jess said and the little comment made Alice blush.

“You look like my doll,” Charlotte added with a giggle, taking Alice’s hand and dragging her along. “Let me show her to you.”

“All right.” Alice looked at Jess briefly, chuckling as she followed the girls.

Alice sat with them for the longest time, being shown every single toy and even helping them pick outfits for the barbies. The girls were absolutely astonished by Alice’s ease to play with them, and they adored her sense of style for the dolls—so different their mother normally had.

It was after dinner—which Alice had watched from a far as Jessamine cooked for them—a delicious pasta that made a mess out of Jess trying to help Leah eat, the girls invited Alice to see the tent they had in their room. It was Alice’s turn to be in awe of the beauty of it, as the four of them laid inside it—Jess and Alice in the middle, the girls on the sides.

“It’s so beautiful,” Alice told the girls.

Paper cup stars, fairy lights, and pictures hung from the sheer fabrics that covered the ceiling, forming a made-up gigantic tent, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

“Mommy made it with us,” Charlotte told her.

“I love it. Your mommy is very talented.”

“Us too!” Leah squealed, making all of them laugh.

“You too, yes.” Alice nodded.

They were still grinning when Jess reached for Alice’s hadn’t between them, and their gaze met.

“Alice?”

“Mhm?” She looked over at Charlotte.

“If you want to sleep over I can let you borrow my pillow,” the oldest girl told her, making her smile largely.

“Thank you, Charlotte, that’s very sweet.” Alice smiled at her, nodding. “Maybe another time.”

Later, when the girls were asleep and Alice and Jess could finally talk, they took the conversation to Jessamine’s study. It was quiet for a while and Alice looked at the endless titles on the bookshelf for what seemed like minutes. Jess waited until they felt ready to ask the right answers.

“You were married then.” Alice started, leaning against the bookshelf and watching Jess, who sat across the room.

“Yes, for four years.” Jess didn’t seem filled with sadness and sorrow and Alice imagined it might be because the passing wasn’t recent. “Maria died when Leah was still a baby, since then it’s just been the three of us.”

“I’m so sorry, Jess,” she said sincerely.

“I don’t normally tell people this on first dates. It’s difficult being a single mom, let alone a lesbian single mom of two. So I tend to separate things,” Jess explained and Alice nodded quickly.

“I completely get it. I didn’t want to barge in,” Alice sounded apologetically and her eyes were sincere.

“You didn’t… You were a hit.” Jess laughed. “That’s just my way of protecting them, I don’t really date. On weekends, when they go to my in-laws, I get to be just Jess and not the mom of two who has to work and balance bake offs and recitals and work.”

“You’re a rockstar for doing all this, honestly.” Alice couldn’t picture herself doing half of what she imagined Jess had to do. “It must be difficult.”

“Sometimes it is, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” Jess stood from her seat and went to the bar she kept hidden in one to the cabinets, getting each of them a dose of bourbon.

Alice took the cup willingly, it had been a lot of information in one night. Jess was standing closer now and her scent was intoxicating, more than the strong alcohol. She sipped the liquor, but her eyes were on the blonde—and hers had never left Alice’s.

“I shouldn’t probably drink much, I still have a long drive,” Alice remembered, but it was more an excuse. She didn’t trust herself drunk next to Jessamine. And that entire array was just too complicated, and Alice wasn’t sure she was ready for complicated, they barely knew each other after all.

“I’m not letting you drive home, Alice.” Jessamine seemed serious and Alice chuckled.

“We both know I was merely panicking earlier, I can definitely drive this late, I just have to be more careful,” she rambled on while Jess put her cup down.

She missed the gaze Jess was giving her because of her rant, but it was impossible for her not to stop when she stood right in front of her, trapping Alice against the shelf. Jess’s hand snaked up her neck to sprawl on Alice’s scalp, planting one of her legs between Alice’s when she took a step closer to her, this time literally pressing her against the furniture.

“That’s not the reason you’re staying tonight.” Jess’s voice was hoarse, her hot breath against Alice’s lips when she leaned over. Alice basked on it, like her air was what she needed to survive. And then their mouths crashed and she realized she didn’t need to breathe, all she needed was to kiss Jess.

Alice felt sore the next morning when she woke up on Jessamine’s bed, her limbs worn out from what they had done all night long—as if it was the last one. Jess was nowhere to be found under the comfortable duvet, but Alice decided to wait this time. And her award came bringing them a tray with deliciously smelling food.

“Morning.” Alice stretched, smiling and yawning still in sheer bliss.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Jess said cheekily, kicking the door shut for lack of free hands. Alice realized it might be late, and was alarmed to look at the clock. It was noon.

“Oh, fuck—Rose’s dog, and God, what will your daughter’s think?”

“Don’t worry, the girls are at school already, the bus took them earlier. And I called up Rose’s neighbor to walk up the pup,” Jess explained, setting down the tray. “Figured you needed sleep.”

“Wow. You also cooked breakfast, again.” Alice pointed out, looking at the food on the tray. 

“American breakfast this time.” Jessamine motioned the pancakes with a chuckle as Alice beamed.

“The other was amazing too.”

“I get it, this is a taste from home.”

Alice nodded, even though she didn’t really miss home, this was nice, she enjoyed it. She took a bite of the pancakes and a sip of the juice, sighing in content.

“This is delicious, Jess! Thanks,” she said with a mouthful, too excited and hungry to mind, but giving her an apologetically smile for it. Jessamine just shook her head with amusement, leaning to peck her lips.

“I was thinking maybe we could see the city? As much as I’d like to keep you in bed as long as I can, I figured you might want to go sightseeing?”

Alice blushed heavily with the little comment, but gave Jess a nod.

“I’ve seen some things, but I still have a few spots to cover.”

“We’ll go there. Where to first?”

“Buckingham Palace!” Alice’s eyes lit up immediately, making Jessamine laugh.

“Such a yankee.” Jess rolled her eyes dramatically.

“God Save the Queen.” Alice teased just to make Jess squirm.

“Jesus Christ, don’t make me regret this, Alice.” she laughed though, leaning over to kiss her. Alice returned it eagerly, realizing they hadn’t kissed yet—and it had been something was secretly anxious for.

“Well, if you keep kissing me like this you may just change my mind.”

“Good to know,” Jess whispered and because of that, she kissed Alice again, only deeper this time.

They did leave the room to explore the city, but not before Jessamine put the tray aside so she could roll on top of Alice to make her scream like they hadn’t been able to the night before.

——

  “So I was your first?” Jessamine blinked in sheer surprise then, but the smile creeping on her lips was enchanting. “I mean, you didn’t strike me as a lesbian, but sometimes women have adventures.”

“Nope, no adventures. I am pretty boring.” Alice grinned, leaning back against Jessamine.

“You’re anything but boring,” Jess said quietly, making Alice look up to her.

It was Christmas Eve and Jessamine had invited Alice to spend it with them—which was great because spending it alone was something Alice had been dreading. It had been the most lovely night, too. Jessamine had cooked, Alice had brought dessert, and the girls had arranged a stocking to hang up for Alice.

The two women had spent most of the time in a friendly manner, with the exception of some longer looks here and there. But now that Charlotte and Leah were tucked in, Alice didn’t hesitate on leaning in to kiss Jess.

It had been two weeks that they had been like this. Kisses, dates, sleepless nights in each other’s arms. All the problems she had had back home seemed to have vanished. But now that she was leaving the next day, she didn’t know how to deal with the fact Jess would be across the globe and that they would likely be moving on from their winter adventure.

They hadn’t talked about the departure, at all, but Jessamine knew she was leaving soon.

“Well, maybe not in London.” Alice chuckled, a sigh escaping her lips when she sheltered against the blonde again.

“I have a wild thought.”

“Hm?”

Jess waited a few moments until Alice had to pull back and look at her.

“Why don’t you stay for New Years? I mean, what’s another week…” Jessamine was always confident and sure of things, but Alice noticed how hurried and nervous she sounded when the words were said out loud.

“Oh—”

As much as Alice would love to stay, she had her work and her life back in Los Angeles. Aside from the fact that Rosalie would be returning to England soon and she would have nowhere to stay any longer—not that she couldn’t arrange that though, Alice surely had the means for that.

“I understand if you can’t,” Jess trailed off. “I thought it was worth the shot.”

“I’d love to stay, Jess. I don’t think I can, though.” Alice’s heart broke seeing the expression in her face, but Jess still nodded.

“I get it, I really do.” The way Jess pulled back to stand up from the couch was what broke Alice even more. All of the sudden it was like the lump of her throat that Alice had when she flew to Europe was back again, that tightness in her gut.

She watched Jess busy with collecting the appetizers and some cuts, heading to the kitchen in silence. There was no doubt she was upset and Alice felt helpless. She had no clue what to do, but she didn’t want to see Jess that way.

Alice met a teary Jessamine in the kitchen.

“Jess—”

“I’m sorry, I’m always like this.” She wiped her cheeks, sniffling. “I cry over everything. Good book, good movie, goodbyes…”

Her eyes were big and green because of the tears and when Alice met her gaze, it was like her heart skipped a beat. She came closer to Jess, cupping her cheeks and pulling her down to kiss her. There was no hurry and no lust, but it was pouring with the most sublime sentiment. Slow and calm, like a farewell.

Jess gripped onto Alice tighter, pulling her closer, almost possessively. When they parted for air, her fist was clinging onto the fabric of Alice’s dress and she didn’t want to let her go.

“Will you come say goodbye to me tomorrow?”

She could see it broke Jess a little more to nod, and Alice felt like a monster for hurting her that way.

“Thank you,” Alice whispered and tiptoed to kiss her again.

——

“I never cry.” Alice sobbed, buried into Jessamine’s embrace, tugging the blonde tightly against to her. “Oh, I’m so stupid.”

“Shh, it’s all right, Alice,” Jess said soothingly, her hand running up and down her spine. “It’s completely fine to cry.”

“You don’t get it.” She pulled back to look up at Jess. Alice was a mess, swollen eyes, red nose, cheeks completely wet. “I never cry, Jess, over anything. Books, movies, goodbyes…” She copied the words from the night before, making Jess chuckle.

“Should I be worried?” Jess taunted, brushing a thumb over her cheek.

“Possibly.” Alice gasped, an amused grin over the tears. “I’m crying now. Because I don’t want to go, I want to stay… With you.”

Jessamine was surprised, but she was smiling, so Alice took it as a good sign to continue talking.

“I never get involved, I don’t let myself because I don’t want to get hurt. And I let my guard down with you because… I don’t even know why! It’s completely wild to me, but here I am, crying like an idiot because I want to spend New Year’s with you.”

“Then stay, Alice,” Jess said simply and Alice wished it was indeed that easy.

“Rose is arriving tomorrow, I would have to get a hotel.”

“Or you could just stay with me. I have a spare room if you’re worried about your privacy.” Again, Jess said it as if it was no big of a deal. Alice doubted if she stayed that she would be using the guest room that much.

“I have work in Los Angeles.”

“It’s the week between Christmas and New Year, your employees will be glad you’re taking one more week off.” Jess chuckled, cupping both her cheeks this time and tilting Alice’s head up to her. “Go on, ask the final question so I can convince you to stay.”

Alice wasn’t sure her final question was the same as Jessamine’s, but the look in the blonde’s eyes told her that maybe they were thinking the exact same thing. Alice still hesitated, inspecting her green eyes.

“What about after, Jess?”

“Well, I’m falling deeply in love with you, Alice. So we’ll definitely have to figure that out.”

If her heart could stop, Alice imagined that it would have, right then and there. But, for once in her life, she felt sincerely the same way.

“You are?” She asked, blinking tears again.

“Yes.” Jess sounded so truthful, her thumbs caressing Alice’s jaw.

“And do you think we can figure this out?”

“It depends…”

“On what?” Alice wondered, frowning slightly.”

“Whether you feel the same way or not?” Jess wondered and this time Alice smiled.

She didn’t answer at start, pulling Jessamine to a kiss instead. Her mouth so anxiously devouring her tall blonde, tugging her coat to drag her down more into the dance.

“I’m falling in love with you too, Jess.”

“Then we can definitely figure that out.”

And they would, in a week or so, once the year had ended and their hearts had been forever laced together.

——

“So that’s how you and grammy met, grandma?” The teenager boy sitting beside Alice looked up to her, a smile on his dimpled cheeks. She nodded at him.

Her short black hair was beginning to fade to a lighter color, the roots and some locks turning to white. Her face carried the wrinkles time brought, but she was still a breathtaking beauty Jess had met all those years ago.

Across the room, Jess walked in with a girl the same age as the boy—a precise female copy of him—carrying plates of food. A couple other family members following behind them—their mom Charlotte and their father Peter, aunt Leah, Rose and Emmett, Edythe and Bella, all bringing something.

“Food is ready,” Jess said, her wry smile meeting her wife’s across the room.

“Are you ready?” Alice asked the boy, who nodded.

Alice went to join Jessamine’s side, who leaned to kiss her cheek.

“Merry Christmas, love,” Jess whispered in her ear. Alice turned so their lips met briefly.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

They both looked at their family, so big and happy.

“Thank you for a wonderful life, Jess.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

Want to also personally thank @irrelevanttous and @beautlilies for all the hard work on correcting, giving me tips and helping me review this long ass work. Pardon if some things might have missed my eye, but they deserve ALL THE PRAISE for putting up with my bad grammar and inventing words that do not exist. Thank you, ladies! ♡

#jalice #jalicesecretsanta20 #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight fanart #the twilight renaissance #mary alice brandon #jasper whitlock #mine #jalicesecretsanta #secret santa #merrychristmaslexie

[magpiemorality]

Another request, if it's okay ofc, Canon or AU both are fine, Deceit and Remus both being interested in Patton and trying to gain his affections and being dramatic rivals. Patton is a bit obvious to it all at first but it ends with him cheerfully saying he likes them both so they both can become his boyfriends, they don't have to fight

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 AO3

Warnings: cursing, judgemental characters, a character dismissing polyamory as an option

***

“I just don’t know what to do!” Patton flopped down on his bed, keeping his phone up by his ear and pouting at the ceiling. 

On the other end, his best friend Remy sighed before replying. “Maybe you could just go and do something about the situation instead of always whining to me about your crazy lucky love life?!” he suggested. “Because gurl, you’re lucky! My dry spell has been over a week now and I’m starting to go mad-” 

Patton giggled and tuned out as Remy kept on complaining about his own lack of a dating life, twirling a curl around his finger and chewing on his lip thoughtfully. 

It was a pretty heavenly dilemma to have, really. It was just so gosh darn upsetting that Patton had to solve the whole thing by making a decision, instead of just riding the euphoria forever. 

The dilemma was this: Patton had two potential boyfriends and he was only allowed to choose one. 

On the one hand; Dexter O’Reilly was drop dead gorgeous, and climbing the social ranks fast by essentially just building his own and declaring it lord of them all. He was mysterious and exciting and surprisingly sweet, and he was a total bad boy. Patton’s parents would never approve (the fact their wholesome Mormon beliefs didn’t approve of most of his life choices notwithstanding…) but that just made it all the more exciting. Dex would be the type of guy that turned Patton from Sandy at the beginning of Grease; to Sandy at the end of Grease, and he was sorta tempted by the idea of a change. Being perfect all the time was a bit of a drag after a while. 

On the other hand there was Remus Duke. One of the defensive end’s of the football team, he was big and strong and, well he was a football player. Patton was a cheerleader. It was practically the law. And Remus was always smiling, always living his life loud and proud and defending his ideals no matter what it took. More than once Patton had heard of him getting into a fight because someone had said something rude to one of his friends, which should not have been as hot as Patton had found it, but gosh, loyalty was sexy okay?! Don’t judge him. Remus was not quite as much a bad boy as Dex was, but he filled the criteria nicely enough. 

Patton was completely torn. 

“-babes you’re not even listening to me, you complain about your dynamic duo all the time and you won’t even listen to me bitch about all the boys that don’t want to date me?!” 

“Gosh, sorry Rem. I just- I can’t help myself!” 

There was a moment’s silence before the sound of a cup being sucked nearly dry nearly burst Patton’s eardrum. “Hey, that’s not fair you promised not to do that without warning again!” 

“Babes, deal with it. Now I gotta go get ready for class, but I’ll speak to you soon. And Pat?” 

“Yeah?”

“Sort your head out soon. Rumour on the blog discord has it that Duke isn’t gonna wait for Prom anymore and wants to pop the question by Spring break. If you’re gonna pick him you’ll want to let the other one down gently before that happens, ‘kay?”

“Mm.”

“Okay babes, ciao!” 

“Ciao, Remy,” Patton mumbled, dropping his phone by his head and letting out a loud groan. Easier said than done. Especially when it wasn’t just his head that had high stakes in the matter; his heart was going all in. 

***

“Mr Duke, will you please focus?!” Dammit, had he been zoning out again? Fuck. Remus lifted his hand with an apologetic grin, turning back to the experiment his group had running on the counter in front of them. 

“How does she always know?” Toby muttered, eyeing their Chem 3 professor suspiciously. “I was totally covering for you dude, I swear. I know how you get.” 

Remus shot him a grateful smile, swirling the contents of a test tube until the mixture was evenly dispersed. “I know, it’s all cool. She’s just some kind of teaching cryptid, probably. Never doesn’t know every single thing happening in class…” 

“So what was it today? You need to run it off later?” Toby offered once they’d started the bunsen burner and set the timer, sitting back to watch and wait for the reaction. “Bad or good?”

“Oh, kinda… both? No running necessary, bro, thanks, but maybe, maybe some house rules mariokart after practice. It was Patton again.”

Toby winced in sympathy. “Our itty bitty pretty cheerboy has got you bad, Duke. What is this, year two, month three?” 

“Something like that. Do you think I should go back to the plan to wait for prom season? It’s just… that would be easy but then I’m wasting time and I already missed the winter formal chance and now there’s this other guy-”

“Wait what other guy?” Toby asked, leaning forwards to check the timer quickly. “There’s another guy?”

“Yeah, the fancy one. You know the one, he’s got the birthmark all over his face?”

“Huh, I thought you only liked the pretty ones-”

“Hey. We don’t make those jokes, remember? We’re better than that now. And besides, he’s not another guy for me, he’s another guy for Patton. They spent loads of time together over Winter break, and he’s like, super weirdly popular or something. Like a mob boss. He probably has way more to offer Patton than I do… Ow!” He glared at his friend, rubbing his shoulder. “What was that for?” 

“For shit talking my best friend. Besides dude, this could be your motivation, right? You need something to get you moving, because shit if you aren’t gonna do it on your own…” 

“Harsh, but fair.”

“So think of it like a competition. You’re good at those.”

Remus blinked, tilting his head. The timer went off before he could reply, so they tabled the conversation. He brought it back up again when they were on the field stretching before practice, eyes straying frequently over to the gym wall where he knew the cheerleaders were inside doing their own practice session. 

“So, about that competition idea… What did you have in mind?” He asked, attempting to be casual and failing. 

Toby grinned. “Alright, here’s the plan.”

***

“Here’s the plan,” Dex told himself sternly in the mirror. “You are going to go up to Patton and ask him if he wants to get coffee. You are going to go up to Patton and ask him if he wants to get coffee. Shit, no, he prefers tea…” 

He sighed, walked in a frustrated circle around his room and came back to the mirror, pushing his hair back and starting again. “You are going to go up to Patton and ask him if he wants to get tea. With you! You are going to- oh what is the point?” This whole exercise was useless. It hadn’t worked for the past three weeks- why would it work today? He was going to pass Patton on campus and give him the usual strained smile and mumbled greeting before hurrying on with his day, annoyed and frustrated and disappointed and another day closer to losing Patton to Remus Duke. 

Dex would rather die than let that neanderthal win. 

And based on the information he was gathering on his blog, he was running out of time to ensure that didn’t happen. Today was going to be crucial- if he could break his routine of failure that was… Maybe a new plan would help? He could take Patton’s favourite order with him and offer it to him when he saw him and use that as a conversation starter instead? Now, that sounded more achievable. 

The next morning Dex got up early to detour via the cafe, picking up his own and Patton’s orders and wandering through campus until he caught a flash of blond hair and a musical laugh. It all seemed to be lining up nicely until he caught sight of his rival approaching from the other side of the quad. Fuck no, Remus was not getting there first! 

Dex sped up, noticing Remus notice him and seeing the moment he clocked that this was turning into a race. The footballer’s legs were longer and stronger than his own, but Dex had the headstart, and he made it to Patton just in time to hold out the cup of tea with a hopeful smile and open his mouth to explain his offering, when Remus crashed into him and the two of them went sprawling on the ground. 

The drinks were spilled and Patton shrieked in surprise, trying to help them both up at the same time, and then apparently clocking that it was the two of them. He squeaked and went red, recoiling and running away, leaving the two boys to scowl at each other. 

Dex rubbed his hip where he’d fallen and Remus brushed himself, looking very unapologetic. “So, you’re Remus Duke. I’ve heard all about you…”

“Oh yeah? You scared, O’Reilly?” Remus shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t need to know shit about you to know I’m gonna be the successful one out of the two of us. I mean it’s the law right- cheerleader plus footballer equals happy ending?” 

“Back off Duke, you wouldn’t know how to treat him right anyway. He’s not a trophy to tick of your perfect life checklist!”

“No you back off- I saw him first! I liked him since freshman year, dude, this is just unfair of you.” 

Dear lord was Remus actually pouting? Dex looked at him scornfully. “Patton isn’t an object. He makes his own decisions. He will pick the better man.”

“Yeah he will. And I’m gonna show him that that’s me.” Remus said with a proud smirk. Dexter stared at him. “I’ve got a plan,” Remus elaborated cockily, and Dex really wanted to wipe that look off his face, but he had better things to do and a reputation to maintain. And a replacement coffee to buy, if he wanted to get through today’s classes. 

He lifted his chin and pulled his messenger bag higher up his shoulder with a scoff. “Well I look forwards to seeing what a brute like you can produce to woo a delight like Patton. In fact, I welcome the competition. It’ll make me look even better by comparison.”

Remus was back to scowling, and Dex tallied that as a win for himself. “I won’t even interfere, you’re going to fuck it up all by yourself, I’m sure. Just look at you,” he sniffed, looking Remus up and down with judgemental eyes. “You’re a mess, Duke. Bye now.” 

He turned to go, leaving Remus huffing and puffing behind him, speechless with fury. 

Things were off to a good start.

***

End of part 2 (woops this is going to be longer?)

#writepie #intruality #moceit #we need a name for this au #ts patton #ts deceit #ts remus #ts remy #cursing #prompt fill #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides aus #ts writing #sanders sides #patton sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #college au

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 16 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hello pumpkins! Thank you so much for all the love, we adore you! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Sutan was smitten with a mysterious new girl, and Fame finally approved the Fashion Week designs.  

This Chapter: A mystery, a flea market, an apology,  a high society gathering, and a bedtime story.

***

“Come in!”

Katya pushed open Pearl’s door, then stood there, arms crossed, a deeply unhappy look on her face. Katya didn’t get mad very often, so when she did, people took it very seriously. Pearl took one look at her and scrambled up into a seated position on her bed.

“What’s wrong?” Pearl asked, a little worried.

“What did you do to Violet?”

“What…” Pearl scoffed, slightly offended. “What makes you think I did something?”

“Well, this is the third week in a row that she’s turned down our brunch invite. So naturally I assume you broke her poor heart. Didn’t you?!”

“No!” Pearl exclaimed. “In fact, if anyone broke anyone’s heart, it’s her! She completely ditched me at the Vogue party and now she’s acting like I don’t even exist.”

Katya narrowed her eyes, contemplating this claim. Pearl’s eyes were wide and innocent and she looked like she was telling the truth, but Katya wasn’t buying it. Something didn’t smell right.

“Huh.” Katya sat down beside Pearl on the bed. “Walk me through the party. Everything you remember.”

“Okay, so it started out great. She looked super hot; I looked super hot.”

“Naturally,” Katya chuckled.

“She didn’t want to do the whole step and repeat thing, but of course I have to, so she kind of stood to the side while I took some pictures, and I was like, clowning and flirting with her, and she seemed really into it. Real giggly and adorable.”

“Okay...” Katya raised an eyebrow.

“And then we went in, and she just...disappeared.” Pearl groaned. “I couldn’t find her anywhere. And the next thing I knew, she was sitting at the bar, flirting with some dude, having the time of her life-”

“Go back,” Katya said. “When you went into the party, you’re saying that she disappeared without saying one word to you?”

“Well, no, she said that she was going to get us drinks.”

“And what were you doing while she was getting drinks, Pearl?” Katya asked.

“I was dancing. Waiting for her! And...oh, shit.” Realization dawned in Pearl’s eyes. “Do you think she saw that girl kiss me?”

Katya covered her face with her hands, moaning, “Peeeearl, for fuck’s sake!”

“Well it was only like a second! A few seconds, tops! And I pushed her away!” Pearl defended herself. “And anyway, why wouldn’t she have said anything?!”

“Does she strike you as the type who enjoys confrontation?” Katya asked pointedly.

“No. No, definitely not. Ugh, fuck.”

“And anyway, what did you say when you saw her at the bar?”

“Uhhh...I kinda just...left.”

“Pearl!” Katya admonished.

“I was pissed! And I don’t like confrontation either.” Pearl crossed her arms sullenly.

“You need to talk to her.”

“Well, I’ve tried, Katya, but she doesn’t want to!”

Katya placed a hand on Pearl’s shoulder and said, “Try again.”

Pearl nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”  

***

“Patrick! Patrick, come here!”

Patrick looked around, trying to locate the face of his wife in the crowd of poorly-dressed shoppers who were surrounding them.

Fame had come home last night, fully drained after a long week at the office. When her mood and her energy levels hadn’t recovered after a long bath, Patrick had made a decision.

The Grand Market Place in New Jersey was one of Fame’s favorite places on Earth. Honestly, any flea market where Fame could walk around in peace was her happy place. Patrick had gotten their car out nice and early, not telling Fame where they were going until they were well on their way to the Lincoln tunnel, where she figured it out.

Patrick finally located Fame, waving at her as he made his way towards his wife, two strawberry melon coolers in his hand, one for each of them.

“Look! Look!” Fame smiled, her entire face lighting up as she held up a small porcelain figurine of a chicken.

“It’s a Royal Copley! See! The stamp is still there!” Fame turned the chicken upside down and showed him the bottom and the brand of the figurine. “It’s an original, I have to have this! It’s an Araucana, my favorite breed!”

Patrick laughed, basking in the joy Fame was radiating. He had sworn on his life that he would never tell anyone that Fame was an avid collector of porcelain animals, but chickens in particular. Her private collection had nearly 100 small chickens meticulously on display in one of Fame’s workrooms.

“I know it is, baby.” Patrick traded the drink and held his hand out for the figurine. Fame took a sip and smiled, not a single complaint falling from her lips over the sweetness of the drink as she turned around and started to argue with the woman in the stall over the price.

Patrick smiled to himself, thankful for the dork of a woman he had chosen to marry. Fame had grown up on a farm, her dad specializing in the breeding of rare chicken breeds for competitions all over the country and he loved seeing the side of her she normally kept so carefully hidden from the rest of the world.

Patrick took a sip of his drink, watching his woman. Spending some time outside of New York where literally no one knew either Fame or himself had been the right decision for today. It was liberating in the best of ways and just what they both needed, a Saturday away from the city in the early September sun.

***

Violet would have never opened the door if it wasn’t for the insistent knocking. She had tried to ignore it, had even made a cup of tea while desperately attempting to tune it out, but as the kettle whistled, Violet’s nerves had finally broken down.

She opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of Pearl’s face, her hand raised to knock for the hundredth time.

“Violet-”

“Go away.”

Violet tried to close the door, but Pearl shoved her foot forward, her heavy leather boot the only thing saving it from getting crushed.

“Please-” Pearl groaned, her hand grabbing the door and prying it open. “I brought you a housewarming gift.”

Pearl tilted her hip, and Violet saw that she was carrying a basket of what had to be top shelf liquor.

“You can keep it.”

Violet tried to close the door again, but Pearl���s grip was too strong.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the whole mess-”

Violet paused. Pearl never apologized. Ever. Sure, the blonde pleaded and played cute, knowing just how to say sorry without the words ever leaving her mouth, but she had just said them, and from what Violet could see, she actually meant them too.

“Can I come in, please?” Pearl sighed. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Fine.” Violet took a step back. “Two minutes.”

Violet had intended to be in control, but it wasn’t until she had let Pearl in that she realized the blonde hadn’t been in her apartment yet.

“Nice decorating.”

Violet felt a flush of shame wash over her. She hadn’t gotten anything done with her place, the apartment just as empty as it had been when she had just moved in, but with Courtney taking all her time at work, and Sutan getting what little she could spare outside of it, she hadn’t had time to get anything done.

“You wanted to talk-” Violet leaned against the wall. “Talk.”

It was clear that Pearl wasn’t used to being put on the spot, but she recovered quickly.

“First of all, I thought you were a real bitch when you randomly ditched me to flirt with some guy.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Wha-” Pearl was being wildy unfair. “That’s not what happen-”

“And it really fucking bothered me. Especially because that didn’t seem like you. Ditching someone I mean-”

“I didn’t-”

”And I might have realized earlier today that you possibly saw me on the dance floor.”

Pearl’s admission felt like a slap to the face all over again. Violet had tried to forget Pearl kissing the redhead, she really had, but it seemed like the world was intent on reminding her of it every chance it got.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. Vivi, I swear, she’s just someone I used to mess around with. I pushed her away right after she kissed me. The only person I wanted that night was you. Pinky swear.”

“Pearl…” Violet wanted to accept the pinky swear, wanted to forgive Pearl so badly, the woman was one of the few people she considered friends, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hurting.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

It was true. Violet missed Pearl, missed their friendship, missed having fun and feeling young and stupid and so very alive.

“Can we please just be friends again?”

A part of Violet wanted to say no, wanted to do what she always did which was run away, but for once, she knew it was worth the risk.

“Of course.”

Hugging Pearl felt amazing, and Violet clung to her friend, her fingers buried in her blonde locks.

***

Violet hurried down the stairs, fumbling with her earring as she took them two at a time. She hated herself, but she was almost late to be picked up, the clock in the lobby telling her she only had two minutes before she was supposed to be out on the street.

Violet hadn’t meant to take so long, hadn’t wanted to be almost late, but she had changed her clothes one too many times, her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies of nervousness.

Sutan had invited her out over text two days ago, and while Violet had agreed right away, it was driving her up the wall that she had no idea what they were doing and where they were going.

He had only told her to dress up, and that he had their tickets already booked, which wasn’t really much to go on.

Violet had agonised over what to wear for hours, but had ended up settling on a red evening gown, overdressed seeming like a much better option than underdressed.

She closed the lock on her earring, but as she reached out to grab the door, she felt her phone start to buzz away in her clutch. She could see Sutan through the glass in the door, a phone to his ear.

“I’m here!”

Sutan turned around, a smile breaking out on his face as he recognised her. He tapped on his phone, and Violet’s clutch finally stopped buzzing.

“Hello lovely eyes.”

Violet was just about to open her mouth to return his greeting, when she realised that he was holding a half smoked cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Violet bit her lip. This was the first time she had seen a cigarette in Sutan’s hand, his apartment not smelling of smoke at all.

“I don’t.”

Violet raised an eyebrow, and Sutan laughed.

“Okay, so, I guess I’m obviously smoking right now.” Sutan dropped the cigarette, and stepped on it, Violet barely holding in a groan as she couldn’t help but worry about the Gucci sole. “Raja has me by the ball with the whole new models thing.”

“Ah…” Violet was well aware, too aware, that Fame had already rejected over half of the girls Elite had suggested. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s not talk about work.” Sutan held a hand out, and Violet took it. She had expected him to pull her in for a kiss or a hug, but instead, he spun her around.

“Suta-” Violet wanted to protest, but her muscle memory had already taken over, her body following his lead as she twirled once, twice, before Sutan stopped her again.

“You look gorgeous.” Sutan smiled, her hand still in his . “Is it Valentino?”

Violet nodded. “2011.”

“It suits you.” Sutan pulled her in, and Violet followed, the man clearly going for a hello kiss, but Violet turned her head to the side, his lips hitting her cheek, clearly indicating to him that she wasn’t going to kiss someone who had just smoked.

“Mmh.” Sutan hummed against her cheek, and Violet barely contained a shiver, the scent of cigarettes and his aftershave overwhelming her.

***

“How long does it take to get there?”

Violet leaned back against the seat, her black hair spilling over her long and slender arms. Sutan had been absolutely serious when he had complimented Violet’s outfit, the red dress spectacular. The chest was what drew his attention though,  her delicate collarbones standing out, flounces flanking the bare skin, Violet’s small breasts half covered by the fabric.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sutan smirked, his driver pulling out from the sidewalk.

“Fine.”

“You’re not even going to pretend to want to know?” When he had told Violet he was keeping the evening date a surprise, he had expected a pointed reply, some nagging or at least a few texts, but Violet had simply accepted it, the woman he was sharing his car with once again so different from everyone else he would normally date.

“I can be patient.” Violet smiled, a teasing glimt in her eyes.

“It’s no fun if you’re not fighting to find out.” Sutan flicked Violet’s earring, which made her yelp and laugh, his move earning him a slap on the thigh. “We’re going to the reception for the new Ralph Pucci exhibition.”

“Wha-” Violet turned towards him. “Are you kidding me? Ralph Pucci, the Ralph Pucci?  Are you taking me to the reception of ‘The Art of the Mannequin’ exhibition at the MET?”

“The one and only.”

***

Violet was filled with glee.

She was at an actual reception at the MET as a proper guest. It was something she had longed for as a fashion student, and something she missed from her younger days, the atmosphere of a cultural premiere always something special.

They had already watched the opening talk and Sutan had gotten them glasses of champagne, the man offering his arm to her without question.

Violet had scanned the room when they had arrived, but there was no one there that she knew, no one who could potentially recognise her for who she used to be.

It was wonderful to walk through the exhibition with Sutan, the man saying quick hellos left and right, but he never strayed from Violet’s side. They each emptied two more glasses of champagne, sharing a few pieces of fruit from the platters the waiters carried around the museum halls.

“Oh.” Sutan leaned down, his breath hot as he whispered into Violet’s ear. “I just spotted Cory Bautista.”

“The co-owner of Model Management?”

“Of course you know who he is,” Sutan chuckled. “I have to go talk to him. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Afraid I can’t take care of myself?” Violet reached out, gently adjusting Sutan’s suit jacket.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Sutan placed a quick kiss on her lips before he walked away, allowing Violet to wander around the exhibition. She had no idea if Sutan had just been lucky when he picked the night's activity, but for Violet it was an absolute joy to get to look at and read about the history and evolution of the fashion mannequin and it’s creator.

Violet was just reading a sign, when she heard a voice besides her.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” It was a soft female voice, her tone almost melodical. “An artist who is actually appreciated in his own time.”

“It is…” Violet smiled to herself. She didn’t turn around, the art in front of her too exciting. “Can you believe they’re actually showing the original 1979 action mannequins? And look, they even have some of Michael Everts prototypes. Isn’t it fascinating? I love how you can clearly see the evolution.”

“Oh wow,” The voice chuckled. “You’re a real expert, huh?”

“Hardly.” Violet shook her head, “but I graduated from Parsons two years ago.”

“And what do you do now then? Do you work for the museum?”

“No, I actually-” Violet turned around, surprised to find an unmistakably familiar face. A face she’d seen splashed across tabloid covers while standing in line for the checkout as a child, the cheerful looking redhead providing some of the most colorful stories during the late 90s and early 2000s.

“Ms. Monsoon.”

“Jinkx.” The woman smiled warmly and held out her hand. She seemed charming and sweet, nothing like the irresponsible, brazen party girl the tabloids had painted her as years back. “And you are?”

“Violet. My name is Violet. I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you…” Violet trailed off uncertainly.

“Standing upright and speaking in coherent sentences?” Jinkx guessed with a chuckle.

“Well, no, I just-”

“It’s fine, sweetie. It’s always nice to surpass people’s expectations, even if they’re rock bottom.” Jinkx gave another crooked smile, the mischievous glint in her brown eyes telling Violet that she was in no way offended.

“I like your dress.”

Jinkx was wearing a bright scarlet gown. It was clearly custom made, the cut telling its own story of a competent tailor, but Violet wasn’t sure she would have ever paired it with Jinkx’s copper hair and red lipstick. The colors should be clashing horribly, but somehow, it was working

“Thank you! Coming from a Parsons alum, that’s quite the compliment,” Jinkx said. “You never told me where you work these days.”

“Oh, I’m at Galac-”

“Hey-” Violet turned around as Sutan walked up behind her, pressing a quick kiss against her temple. “Sorry I was gone for so-”

It was then that Sutan looked up, his entire body stiffening as he recognized who Violet was talking to.

“Jinkx.”

“Sutan, well well well. I’m not going to say I didn’t expect to see you here, but I certainly didn’t expect to see you in such excellent company.”

Violet couldn’t help but notice how quickly Jinkx’s demeanor had changed. She glanced from Sutan to Violet and then briefly at the ceiling, her face unreadable. She leveled her gaze back at Sutan, looking straight into his eyes, making Violet feel more than a little uncomfortable as Sutan responded to Jinkx’s stare.

“You’re looking very… radiant tonight.”

Violet could hear a sour, mocking note in Sutan’s silky voice. She had no idea what was going on, had never seen Sutan like this before and she couldn’t recognize the man who had whispered into her ear merely minutes before, the energy he was giving off now reminding her of Raja on her worst days.

“Whoaaa… Alert the presses,” a voice called out. “Since when are you two allowed in the same room?”

Violet turned to see none other than Bianca Del Rio approaching the group.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Violet couldn’t be sure that Bianca actually knew who she was, or would recognize her out of the context of the office, but she wasn’t prepared to stay and find out. She began to back away, doing her best to obscure her face from Bianca, her heart hammering away in her chest.

“Heya, red.” Bianca slipped an arm around Jinkx’s waist. “Is this asshole harassing you?”

“Shut up, B,” Sutan said. “Actually, I was just about to take my date and-” He glanced around for Violet, who was by now standing by one of the mannequins on the other side of the room. “Um…”

“Uh oh. Boy wonder got ditched?” Bianca joked.

“I knew she had good taste,” Jinkx replied, and both of them cackled gleefully.

“I’m glad you’re well, Jinkx,” Sutan said, sounding like he had to muster all of his strength to get out the sentence. “I’ll leave you to it.” He managed a smile, “Also, Bianca? Kiss my ass.”

Bianca laughed uproariously, raising her glass to him as he took his leave.

“Love you too, Tan!”

Sutan spotted Violet and took her hand, guiding her quickly to the far side of the room.

“What was that about?” inquired Violet as soon as they were at a safe distance away.

Sutan took a deep breath. “Jinkx and I used to be…” he groaned, wincing, before finishing, “...involved.”

“Seriously?” Violet couldn’t imagine Sutan and Jinkx together if her life depended on it; they seemed too different, like night and day.

“Yes. It didn’t end well, to say the least. But...that was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Okay,” Violet said simply. If there was one thing she understood, it was the desire to forget your past, and who was she to probe, when there was so much she’d never want to share herself.

***

“Are you comfortable, baby?”

Katya and Trixie were together in bed, both of them wearing their matching fluffy pajamas.

Trixie nodded, a smile on his face as he snuggled into Katya’s side. Trixie came home from his bar night with Pearl pretty drunk, so Katya had brushed his teeth and tucked him into bed.

“Good.” Katya smiled and leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on Trixie’s forehead before she picked her book up. She had learned through countless nights in Trixie’s bed that there was nothing that put him to sleep easier than a book he found utterly boring.

“In 2008, a study from the University of Texas at Austin found that, ‘There are many inadequate high school facilities in Texas, and unfortunately many of these are found in areas of low socioeconomic status and high minority percentages.’ The researchers also determined that inadequate high school facilities and poor classroom conditions had a negative impact on students’ academic performance.”

Katya stopped her reading, completely horrified with what she had just read.

Trixie looked up at Katya, a sad look on his face.

“Keep reading baby… Keep reading.”

Katya smiled a little.

“The researchers found that high school students perform better on tests if the classroom has a view of a green landscape, rather than a windowless room, or a room with a view of another building or a parking lot.”

“You’re my green landscape, baby.”

Katya leaned down and kissed Trixie’s little bald spot. “You’re my green landscape too, baby.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #vitan #trixya #violet chachki #katya zamolodchikova #pearl liaison #miss fame #raja gemini #jinkx monsoon #bianca del rio #trixie mattel

[axwalker]

The Trade: 2

 Synopsis: This is an AU where the monarchy in Cordonia doesn’t longer exist and it has been replaced by a republic. It’s set in the final stages of the presidential race with Senator Liam Rhys competing against Fidelya Governor Godfrey Karlington. To assure his son’s victory, Constantine makes an arrangement behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel?

Masterlist:  HERE

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get very dark. None for this chapter though. 

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my mother tongue. I appreciate all comments and feedback. 

@pug-bitch​

Pairing: DrakexMC, LiamxMC

Drake stepped out of the shower and turned on the TV. A towel around his waist, he sat on the edge of the bed and switched the channel.

“Good night everyone, I’m Anna de Luca and today in Politics weekly, we’re going to talk about the lasts updates of the presidential race with political expert Donnie Brine. Hi Donnie, we’re happy to have you on the show tonight. Tell us, what do you think of our candidates so far?”

“Hi Anna! Happy to be here. Well, we all already know Governor Godfrey Karlington and his conservative politics. He represents the old ways and rules Fydelia with an iron fist. Personally, I think the most interesting candidate today is the young and charismatic Liam Rhys, a new face in the political map, but well ahead in the polls.”

Drake arched his brows and laughed to himself. -New face?- Liam was a great candidate, the best one, but he was certainly no newcomer.

“New  face?” Ana asked echoing Drake's thoughts. “Please, Donnie. We all know Liam is the son of ex-president Constantine Rhys and that he comes from old Cordonian nobility. He’s hardly a ‘new face’. However, I’ll agree that his rapid popularity growth is worthy of attention.  Now, as a political expert, tell us: Is it true that he intends to surround himself with young politicians?

“Apparently this is all true, Anna. He’ll form his cabinet with his closest political allies, otherwise known as the “Brat-pack” of Cordonian politics, all being sons and daughters of either rich men and government members as Miss Hanna Lee or old noble houses as Sir Rashad Domvallier.”

“Can you give us a sneak peek of his cabinet?”

“Of course, Anna! I’ll give you the name of those we are sure he’ll appoint if he wins:

For Secretary of Treasury, he’ll appoint Bertrand Beaumont, he was Governor of Ramsford and his family have had ties with the Rhys for hundreds of years.

In Education, he’ll name Hanna Lee. Miss Lee is the youngest person that has ever directed Cordonian University. She has won world recognition for her research in educational methods.

In Foreign Affairs we’ll have Kiara Theron, the also daughter of the prominent judge Hakim Castelraillan, was our representative in the UN for two consecutive years and speaks 6 languages fluently.

The Secretary of Defense will be Capitain Olivia Nevrakis, a decorated top army officer.

Rashad Domvallier will be the head of the Department of Commerce, his bold business deals have brought a lot of money to the most prominent companies in Cordonia

And for some experience he will appoint Ex Supreme Court Juge Hakim Theron as the Attorney General and Landon Ebrim as the Minister of Agriculture” Donnie concluded.

“Well, all in all, not a lot of surprises, Donnie. As you said it before, it will be an incredibly young cabinet. Cordonian people should be happy that they’ll have Senator Ebrim and ex-judge Theron to babysit. Now two questions remain. Do we know who he’ll name as his chief of staff? And, more importantly: Who’s going to be his number two? Do you think he’s going to run with his brother, Valtorian Senator Leo Rhys? Or is that too much nepotism even for Cordonian standards?”

“To answer your first question, rumor has it that he will name his assistant, the man that’s been with him his whole career: Mr. Drake Walker. It is an important position, let’s hope that Mr. Walker is qualified for it, after all, he is not a real politician. As for the second question, his number two is the big enigma here, Anna. We know that a double Rhys ticket is the ex-president’s dream, but we are also aware of the Senator’s lifestyle, and I don’t think that the public opinion would approve of him running with the young candidate”.

Drake turned off the TV. Fucking vultures, they would love to see Liam fail just so they could feast in his loss. They didn’t care that he was the best candidate, much more than that fossil Karlington would ever be.

He opened the curtains and looked through the window, it was a sunny Sunday, his day off. He was wondering what to do when his phone rang. He saw Max’s photo on the screen.

Preparing for over the top excitement in three, two, one… he picks up the call.

“Draaaaake! You answered!”

“Yes, Maxwell. What do you want?” He sighed “Wait, is Sunday morning so I assume you need me to go get you at the beach because you woke up naked, surrounded by peacocks, with a horrible hangover and no memory of what happened last night. Am I right?”

“Heyyy Drake! Not all parties end up like last week’s party!” Max laughed

Drake rolled his eyes. “No, you’re right, sometimes you wake up naked in a garden surrounded by pigeons, or with a hippo tattoo you have no recollection getting.”

“Actually, I just wanted to invite you to lunch to thank you for picking me up last week, buddy,” Maxwell replied.

Drake sighed in exasperation “I’ve told you one hundred times NOT to call me buddy. And lunch is the minimum you can offer me after I saw you naked. I’m scarred for life, I hope you know.”

“He! You’re just jealous of my attributes, and jealousy is not a good color on you, Drake. You pick me up at 12…ish?

Drake growled at the phone “I’m starving; I’ll be there at 12 sharp.”

When they arrived at the restaurant at 2 pm, it was so crowded the waitress had to sit them at the bar.

As Maxwell stepped outside to take a mysterious call, Drake immediately noticed a beautiful girl in the stool next to Max’s. She was a tall brunette, with huge brown eyes and a beautiful smile. The short red dress she was wearing uncovered her long, tanned legs and hugged her curves in a way that made Drake blush.

Slightly disappointed, Drake noticed that she was talking to a guy in a blue suit. When he was about to move on and order another whiskey, he heard a very familiar voice:

“Sooo, as I was telling you, my family is very rich, they own the Sartorini brand, a very famous, very luxurious, very expensive brand of men shoes, among a lot, and I mean a lot of other things. You have heard of my family of course.”

Drake rolled his eyes.

“Of course,” He heard her answer, and he couldn’t help but notice a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “The problem… uh…Tariq was it?” Drake was smiling to himself “Is that I have it as a personal rule not to date very smugly, arrogant, conceited men. It’s a pity really, I can tell we really could’ve hit it off”

“Are you making fun of me bitch?” Drake was ready to intervene when he heard her answer.

“Wow, it took you 30 seconds to go from charming prince to creepy pig, a real record. Now if you excuse me, I’m really hungry. Have a good afternoon.”

Tariq got closer to her but as he was facing the girl and not him Drake couldn’t see what he was doing. Unfortunately for Tariq, he found out soon enough.

“I suggest you take off your filthy hand of my thigh right now if you don’t want to end up severely injured!” She seethed.

Tariq took a look at her slender figure and laughed. “By who? You?”

“No, me” Drake had decided to intervene “You heard the lady, Tariq.  Get out of here.” Tariq’s face went white as he apologized.

“Oh! I’m sorry Drake, I didn’t mean to disturb her, I didn’t know you were with her… I…I... I’m leaving..” He sighed, visibly scared, leaving the bar immediately.  

The girl puffed “Typical creep, he doesn’t even apologize to me, but to the man with a savior complex, who no one asked help from in the first place”

Drake arched his brows: “Sorry lady, I know Tariq, and he never would have left you alone. Anyway, have a nice lunch.”

The girl bit her lip feeling guilty, he was only trying to help her after all, and not that it mattered but he was very handsome.

“No, I’m sorry, you were only trying to be a good person”. She moved to the stool next to him while Max was still talking on the phone. “Let me buy you a…what are you drinking?”

Maxwell arrived just in time to hear the last sentence: “Whiskey! It is like he doesn’t know any other beverages. Can you believe that he has never tasted a Cosmopolitan??!!” He said grinning. “I’m Maxwell Beaumont, he’s Drake Walker and you’re…”

“I’m Elena, Elena Ortiz. Nice to meet you both” She grinned, and Drake couldn’t help but noticed what a beautiful smile she had. It felt like she’d be able to light an entire room with it. “And don’t worry Drake, me too I looove whiskey” That time she joined a little wink to the smile and Drake felt like he was actually melting.

“Hi… Magda” She said reading the waitress's name in her uniform “Can you bring us three glasses of Knob Creek, please?”

“Where are you from? You have a bit of an accent” He heard Maxwell ask her

“I’m American Maxwell, from New York”

“Please, call me Max. Is how all of my friends call me and I can tell right now that you and I are going to be great friends”

“How long are you staying in Cordonia, Elena?” Drake hoped she couldn’t hear the expectation in his voice.

“Oh… for now I’m just visiting, I haven’t thought very far ahead”

“Oh, I would looove to show you the highlights of our beautiful country,” Max said, smiling with excitement. “But I have a date tonight, so I can’t. Drake here, on the other hand, is a free as a bird today, aren’t you Drake?”

Since he met him as kids Drake had imagined one thousand different ways to kill the ever-annoying Maxwell, but at that moment, he could’ve kissed him.

“Actually, yes I am. I could show you some spots in the city that aren’t in the guides. What do you say?”

Elena grinned back at him.

“Maybe … where are you taking me?”

“You’ll have to trust me Elena, but I’m thinking you’ll like it”

“Trust you? I’ve known you for like a minute and a half. What if you murder me and hide my body on your baseman forever?

“Heh, that… or I’ll show one of Cordonian’s most beautiful sights while we drink some good whiskey. I guess you’re gonna have to take your chances.” Drake didn’t know why he wanted so desperately her to trust him.

Elena looked deeply into his eyes. She didn’t know why she felt so safe around him, maybe it was his gaze, intense and bright; looking at her longingly now.

“Let’s go!”

Drake took Elena to a beautiful beach next to Cordonia city; he showed her a little cove he visited when he needed some time far away from all the politics and plots.

“Drake! This is beautiful. It makes me think of my favorite spot in New York, next to Orchard beach. I go there whenever I’m feeling that I need some time for myself or to think about something.” She let out a small sigh.“Sometimes life can be too complicated”

Drake could hardly speak, completely lost just by looking at her. The gestures her hands make when she spoke, the elegant curve of her neck, her beautiful smile, and overall those big brown eyes, almost black. They were shinning now, enjoying the view, but there was something else in them; something unreadable…Pain, maybe?

“Do you feel like that often?” Drake asked, avid to know everything about the beautiful stranger next to him.

“You have no idea.”’ She turned to look at him. “But enough about that. What’s your story?” She gave him a flirty smile that almost made Drake’s heart stop. “Do you bring here all your dates?”

Drake gave her a cocky smile. “Ha, good to know this is a date” She blushed in the most adorable way. “In fact, if you have to know you’re the second person I bring here, and the first one was my sister,” he said hoping she didn’t ask a lot of questions about Savannah.

“Oh, well is an amazing spot, but I was promised some excellent whiskey and I’m not seeing any.” He grinned taking out a little silver flask from his pocket and handing it to her.

“You’ll never taste anything better.” When he watched her take a sip and then lick her lips, it took everything he had not to kiss her, but for some strange reason, for once he didn’t want to go to fast with a woman. “So?”

“It’s not Knob Creek but is not bad.” She moved closer to him, hoping he would make a move, it was her last day of freedom and she really liked him, much more than she should. Drake was looking directly at her with his chocolate eyes, and a sexy smile in the corner of his mouth.

“What’s in your mind? You didn’t stop talking all the way here and now you’re very quiet”

Drake was a stranger, she would probably never see him again. However, his strong, steady presence invited her to confide in him. Without a second thought, she blurted out, “I was thinking that I can’t be the person I want to be.”

“What do you mean you can’t? What old are you, like 24? You can do whatever you want Elena.”

She shifted her position to watch the ocean. “25, and no, I can’t. Forget it, you’ll never understand”

He gave her a small smile, he definitely understood. “You mean that you feel trapped in a life that you don’t know how to live anymore but you have no fucking idea how to get out of?”

She looked surprised “That’s exactly it. You have the same feeling?”

He sighed looking at her with a bit of regret in his eyes. “I’m in a job that I hate, very far away from the life I pictured for myself when I was a kid”

She took his hand, feeling an immediate spike of electricity run through her arms “If you hate your job that much, why don’t you just resign?”

“I hope it was that easy, but it’s not. My boss is also my best friend and I owe him and his family everything. He’s asked for my help and I can’t deny it… so here we are”

“Wow, you make it look like the mafia, Drake. Maybe I should be scared” She said teasing him and he smiled.

“Well, actually it’s not that different from the mafia, that I can tell you. But maybe after this job is finished, I’ll be free to do what I want”

“And that is…?” He could see she was genuinely curious.

Drake took a long swig of whiskey. “It seems like a ridiculous child’s dream when I say it out loud, but I love horses and animals in general. I would’ve like to be a veterinarian, instead of going to business school”

“Well maybe someday… you’re young too, there is no reason you can’t make that happen”

“Now that you made me spill my guts, you have to tell me something about you. Why do you feel trapped?”

She also drank before answering. She didn’t want to ruin the mood by confessing the truth.

“Let’s say that I’m in the middle of a very awful business deal, that I can’t undo”

He looked at her quizzically. “What the hell does that mean Elena? Now is you who’s talking like a mob family member”

“He! If only…”  She moved even closer to him, boldened by the whiskey and the confidences they’d shared. “But that’s enough of sad little secrets”.

Elena gave him a very inviting smile and he suddenly realized that she was impossibly close to him. He could smell her scent, delicate and fruity. Her brown silky hair had a cherry fragrance, that was inebriating him much more than the whiskey he had drunk. When Drake saw her dark eyes looking directly at him, he didn’t doubt one more second. He took her face with both his hands and kissed her. She had never been kissed like that, it was sweet and passionate at the same time. With longing and tenderness, desire and reverence all at once.  Elena could smell his scent, something woody and musky and it drove her crazy. His tongue was entering her mouth looking for hers, delicately at first then more and more passionately, until they had to come out for air. He didn’t need much because almost instantly he was kissing the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, and there he was ravaging her mouth again.

Suddenly, the spell was broken. They were brought back to reality by the incessant ringing of her phone.

“Sorry Drake, I really have to get this” He saw her walking away a few meters and talk to someone, visibly affected by it. Her features hardened, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but she seemed different, sadder, gloomier. Drake saw she had ended the call but remained in place, so he went to her.

“What was that about Elena?” He asked softly stroking her left cheek with his thumb.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… it’s just that I’m gonna have to go back to real life tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to.”

“I thought you were in Cordonia indefinitely …”

“It’s complicated. Can you bring me back to the restaurant? A car will pick me up there.”

“I can take you to wherever you’re staying, Elena”

She gave him a rueful smile that tugged his heart. “I rather not, thank you.”

“This is the last time we will see each other. Isn’t it?” Drake asked, sadly.

Elena could feel the tears. Tears of sadness for everything she’d always wanted but never would have. Tears of joy for the moment she just shared with Drake, as briefed as it was. Tears of regret for leaving him despite all the possibilities that he held.

“Yes …it was the last time”

#drake walker #drakexmc #axwalker writes #tw noncon #the trade

[camillemontespan]

the wedding date [AU. drake walker]

Just a short thing I started, might not continue this, but think this could be like a romcom fic. I watched a film with the babe that is Dermot Mulroney last night and was reminded of the Wedding Date. So.. this fic is inspired by that. 

@burnsoslow​ @moonlightgem7​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @pug-bitch​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @ibldw-main​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @mskaneko​ @gardeningourmet​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​  @emichelle​ @katedrakeohd​ @emceesynonymroll​ @notoriouscs​

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

‘She’s getting married.’

Liam and Leo both blinked in shock as they digested Drake’s words. His voice was despondent. Sighing, he crumpled up the invitation with gold lettering and threw it to the centre of the table. 

‘Dude.. are you okay?’ Leo asked. 

Drake shrugged. ‘Yeah. It was expected, you know? I knew she had a boyfriend.’

‘True but it’s only been six months..’ Liam interjected. 

‘Must be true love then, heh,’ Drake replied, trying to make light of it. ‘Something I couldn’t offer her.’ 

The three of them were sat in a bar on the corner of East 62nd Street. It was Saturday and their ‘guys day’ which had promised to consist of beer and football had become overshadowed by Drake’s announcement that his ex-girlfriend was engaged. 

Kiara had wanted to be the bigger person and invite Drake, her ex-boyfriend. 

Drake wished she hadn’t. 

‘Are you gonna go?’ Liam asked. 

‘Fuck no,’ Drake said. ‘Why would I want to put myself through that? The pitying looks. The awkward small talk The champagne. Ugh, fuck that.’ 

Leo smirked. ‘Maybe you could bring a date. Show her that you don’t care.’

‘I’m not even going to consider that,’ Drake said dryly. He gestured to the bartender and asked for another glass of whiskey. ‘Make it a double.’

Liam reached out to open the crumpled invitation. 

‘His name is Gabriel. Like the angel,’ he said, reading its contents. ‘Ooh they’ve hired the Plaza for the wedding venue. Champagne reception and canapes. How fancy.’ 

‘Just like her,’ Drake said quietly. ‘She always liked that shit.’

Leo and Liam grimaced. They knew that Drake and Kiara had been ill-matched from the very beginning. Why the two of them were ever together, they would never know. 

Kiara was the daughter of a diplomat. She studied at an Ivy League university - Princeton- and worked as a translator.  She loved fine wine, travel documentaries and designer clothes. 

Drake was the son of a security guard - his father passed away when he was fourteen and his mother abandoned him soon after. He didn’t go to university, instead working in bars when he was legally of age. He loved whiskey, boxsets and denim shirts. He had never worn anything designer in his life.

But that was just the superficial stuff. The flaws in their relationship ran deeper than materialism. Drake was often happy to go to dive bars and wind away the hours with a bottle of whiskey. He was fine with his life; not totally happy because who genuinely was, but he was fine. He liked living in New York and seeing his friends. He liked going outdoors on hikes, but Kiara didn’t. She wasn’t one for outdoor activities; she liked her creature comforts. 

It had stemmed from their sexual attraction. They had locked eyes one night at the bar Drake worked. It was an up-market place and Kiara had been sat with her friends on a tall chair, her lithe legs crossed with her dress riding up her thigh. As Drake poured a glass of wine, Kiara’s gaze was fixed on him and he found that he couldn’t look away. 

She was petite. Dark skin, black hair, flirty smile. 

They went back to hers. Drake had picked her up and pinned her against the wall of the hallway, enjoying the groans she made as he kissed her neck. His hands had raked through her hair and pulled at her designer dress, revealing the lace black lingerie she wore underneath. 

Kiara liked kink, Drake gradually found out. When they became official, she introduced new things to the bedroom that Drake loved. He loved that she liked bondage. He loved that she liked sex toys. He loved that she would walk to his apartment dressed in only a trench coat and heels, untying her coat when he let her inside, so the trench fell to the floor and revealed her nude form. 

But it wasn’t enough. 

Kiara wanted to commit. Like, really commit. She wanted a ring on her finger and declarations of love. 

But Drake didn’t love her. It wasn’t her fault; the fact was that Drake Walker had never loved anyone. He didn’t know how to. 

In the end, she left. 

And he wasn’t surprised. 

Because everyone left Drake in the end. What was one more person?

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

‘I’ve signed you up.’

Drake frowned at Liam. ‘Signed me up for what?’

‘Dating,’ Liam replied, holding up his phone. 

‘Oh fuck off, Li,’ Drake groaned. ‘I don’t need a girlfriend-’

‘Not a girlfriend,’ Liam interrupted. ‘Just something casual.’

‘Why?’

Liam picked up the invitation. ‘Because you were with Kiara for two years,’ he said. ‘She meant something to you. She’s invited you to her wedding. Clearly, she wants to make amends. Why not?’

‘Sounds like hell if you ask me,’ Leo said, tossing back a glass of scotch. ‘Why would he want to do that? Attend his ex’s wedding while she laughs and kisses her new husband, revelling in her new status as a constant ball and chain? Sounds like a fucking blast.’

Drake smirked. ‘Exactly.’

‘Look, you can bring a date to this!’ Liam protested. ‘You can show you have moved on. You can look like a good guy, going to her wedding to wish her well.’

‘Liam, no random girl is going to go to a wedding with a guy she’s just met,’ Drake told him. 

Liam shot him a mischevious smile. ‘Not these girls.’

Drake grabbed his phone. ‘What the fuck have you done?’

Plus1.com. 

‘What the fuck is plus1.com?’ Drake asked, horrified. Leo let out a laugh but lapsed into silence when Drake gave him a death stare. 

Liam smiled. ‘It’s a website for people who are looking for dates for events they’ve been invited to. Your profile is shared around agencies until a girl messages you. Hence, plus one. It’s online dating for those who don’t actually want to date! The girl finds you, so it’s not creepy as it’s all in the girl’s court,  and you meet up, talk about the wedding, and then you go to said wedding. Easy.’

‘I could just stay home,’ Drake replied. ‘That’s the other option. Less hassle. Makes more sense. I can just get drunk on whiskey and watch porn.’ 

‘That sounds fucking excellent,’ Leo quipped, raising his glass. ‘Cheers to that!’ 

Liam looked from Leo to Drake with a look of dismay on his face. ‘You both are disgusting.’

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

Liam had emailed Drake the login details for plus1.com. The username Liam had chosen for Drake was ‘GrumpyMarshmallow’ and the profile picture was of the three of them at another bar. Drake was going to delete his profile as soon as he got home. He didn’t want to have that abomination online for another minute. 

Drake got home at 2am. He lived in a dingy studio apartment over a liquor store, which Leo thought was the best location for an apartment, which meant that Drake would have to move at some point. Anything Leo approved of was bad thing. 

He got undressed and pulled on his check pyjama bottoms. Sitting up in bed with his laptop balanced on his lap, Drake pulled up the plus1 website. He cringed at the profile Liam had made for him. 

My name’s Drake Walker. I’m 28 years old, single -obviously- and live in New York. I like whiskey, hiking, reading and 80s rock (don’t judge). I’m fun company, if a little sarcastic and dry to begin with, but I swear, once you get to know me, I’m not all bad.  I’ve been invited to my ex’s wedding and I don’t want to go. My friends have suggested I try this. It’s a champagne reception and canapes. I can’t stand champagne or canapes. Emotional support will be needed. 

Ugh god, he needed to delete this asap. 

He was trying to find the Settings option when he saw that he had a message. It would probably be those ‘Welcome to hell!’ intro messages for new users. 

It wasn’t.

The profile picture was of a girl. She had dark hair, caramel skin and was posing in front of a white wall. It looked like a polaroid for a model on a go-see. Drake thought this started to look suspicious. Maybe Liam had missed the small print? 

‘Hey there,’ her message began. 

‘‘Ugh champagne and canapes, really? But hey, problem shared is a problem halved, right? 

P.S. whiskey on the other hand.. 

-Camille. ‘

Drake stared at the screen. What was he supposed to do with that? 

Delete the fucking profile. 

She was pretty.

Delete the fucking profile.

Was she flirting with him?

Delete the fucking profile.

But then, he could go to the wedding and show Kiara that he was fine. He was doing good. He had a babe on his arm. He didn’t need Kiara. He had.. Camille. Camille who liked whiskey. 

Delete the fucking profile.

Drake thought of Kiara kissing her new husband while everyone looked at him with pity. 

Drake thought of staying home to drink whiskey and watch porn. 

Drake clicked on the message and began to type. 

#drake walker #drake walker x mc #trr fanfic #trr au

[theplumsoldier]

COACH NEGAN [11]

Summary: yay reunion coming

Pairing: negan x y/n

Word count: 1674

Warnings: eventual smut, explicit scenes, vulgar language.

Slumped back in his throne, Negan let out a breath of succession. What a day, he thought to himself and reached over the counter to take a swig from the bottle. Whiskey soothed its way down his throat, its sharp aroma cutting at his insides and he threw up his muddy boots on the table. This life was it.

"Boss, whatcha want me to do with the newcomers?"

Simon appeared in the doorway, giving his superior a curious look. A concerned frown altered his features the slightest and the beard resting on his upper lip did him nothing good either.

"Let 'em stay out for the night. I'll take a look at them in the morning and see what use we can make of them," said Negan in reply, waving Simon away and lifted the bottle to his lips once again, his eyes fixated on the blood dripping from Lucille's barbed wire.

"Sure thing," obeyed Simon and turned on his heel, calling out a couple of men down the hall. Picking up his pace, he rushed to their side and told them of Negan's command.

It had been weeks since you had last seen a living person, one whose heart was actually beating and possed the sense of reality in this surreal world. How it was possible for the dead to continue living – with a new purpose though – you did not know, and had you actually found the surplus in you to open a comic or go see one of those dumb zombie movies back when times were not a life or death situation, you might have been slightly less ignorant concerning the walkers and possibly equipped with some life-hacks.

But that was not the case and so here you were, paranoid and wake in your sleep, too scared to get rest until you had no choice but to finally close your eyes.

More than once, had you been in that deep, dark place you prior had only ever visited on sleepless nights in your warm bed in Arid Ridge. That place where a bullet in the head sounded tempting. Fast and clean, that would be it. No more fucking zombies, no more fear, no more life. It had become some of a pros-and-cons thing, where you would sit slurping stolen beer and sniffing lines of crushed mysterious pills from the pharmacy, listing all the good and bad coming from such a scene.

Often it would end with you having the barrel of a gun between your teeth, but somehow the trigger was never pulled. Call it sense or lack of gut, you treated yourself another line before going to bed, thinking you just might of be lucky enough to be killed in your sleep. The pain was just about the only frightening con in that particular fate, but you figured people had suffered worse.

Days passed and you were forced to travel by foot, having to outrun or take down the passing dead. Killing whatever opposing you seemed to be the only solution nowadays, as outrunning really was more about hiding, until they moved on. At times, for them to move on was a difficult part as they often would not move much if they had nothing specific to chase after. They could stand there, still and swaying, looking as if they had just dug their way out of the grave and they would not do much more than that until they caught something else moving.

It was a nightmare, this world.

But the time for salvation came, and just as you had thought you would never again get the chance to rest your weary head on Adam's shoulder, you were blessed with his handsome face.

Bloody and dirty, cut up and bruised, but handsome. Him and old Coach.

Was it luck or was it misfortune—and were they, in fact, one and the same? You did not know and frankly, you did not care much either, for it was your fate and one that came in the form of a large scrappy-looking facility. It reached high in the sky and in times like these, it too seemed only a reminder of what used to be a city. The grey with a tint of rusty red building lit up much to the likeness of a safe haven, and surely, by the judge, jury and executioner and its inhabitants, the old factory shared a name of the resemblance.

You had reached the Sanctuary.

It was partially destroyed and looked to be in ruins, its decaying sides disintegrating here and there. Had it not been for the spiked head as well as tied down dead, you would have deemed it abandoned and walked by. Nevertheless, you should indeed have taken this as your omen, only this was about the only sign of life you had seen in only God knows how long and you swore by his side, if you were to spend another minute by yourself you would end up deader than the dead.

Cautious and with wary eyes, you made your way closer for inspection and it was not long before those bodies chained to the fence began rustling, yawning, moaning and screeching as they tugged for dear life, or not really, eager for a bite. It caught the attention of a guard who immediately yelled at the sight of a possible infiltrator. Your eyes widened as rifles were heaved, taking aim. They took their security very seriously.

"You stop there!"

It was a thick accent and the bellow put a scraping sound to his rough voice and your heart immediately picked up on velocity, deciding how to react. More men came running toward you, arising panic in you and although this was the first sign of human life you had seen in what felt like forever, you were ready to sprint away. The dead seemed less terrifying now that people had you in their bullseye.

One caught sight of the gun strapped to your side. Unaware you were not in possession of any bullets nor other ammunition, he reacted, suddenly scared with the frightened-looking girl before him. Ordering for you to raise your hands, your eyes warily searched around you. Forming a tightening circle around you, the guards had you surrounded and you actually considered what was worse, finding out what ominous looking place this was or having put a bullet in your brain. As far as you knew, you had nothing and no one.

The guards' screams mixed with the dead's and your pulse throbbed in your muscles, you felt in your fingertips, your pounding head, and your sprained ankle. Giving up now was not an option, you decided that, but you felt another panic attack building in your chest and the aggressiveness shown towards you did not make you feel much better.

"Hands in the air!" reiterated the hostile man.

With all the distractions you failed to notice one man was sneaking up behind you, and you reacted violently in surprise, not fond of having someone force you to the ground. With what little technique you knew of, you kicked him in the side of his knee and his agonizing scream curled in your ear, doing no good for your aching head. Busy trumping one gorilla, another caught your punch and twisted your arm on your back, violently throwing you in the ground. Pressing your face into the cement underlay with his knee, you let out a cry and you were disarmed.

"You think you're smart, huh?" taunted he, pushing down harsher on you. It was the one who you had kicked in the knee and he was certainly not content by being caught off guard, letting you know and you screamed in pain as your face scraped against the ground. Whether he was more angry from being taken unawares by a potential threat or by the threat being a woman, you did not know but his fiery eyes acknowledged, either way, he did not care if he hurt you. Digging your nails into his arm, the guard pulled up your head and forced it right back unto the tarmac terrain, spitting in your face. "Fucking bitch!"

Another spoke up.

"Easy, man! You know Negan doesn't approve—"

"Fuck I care about him, this bitch—"

His words went over your head and you zoomed out for a second, time stopping at the name bringing back tons of memories. It seemed ages ago since someone had last spoken the name, and you did not know if the face you remembered and this man they spoke of even coincided. Nonetheless, the pain faded for a minute and you wrestled under the gorilla.

"Wait what did she say? Damnit, Mac—let her go for a second, will ya!"

Gasping for air, you turned as much as you could, trying to reason with the guards hovering you.

"Negan," you tasted his name, the familiarity and trip down memory lane sending a shiver down your hurting spine. "What's his last name?"

The voices shut up, each mind assessing the question from the struggling, defenseless woman. Glances were exchanged and another voice spoke, confusion in his voice as it peaked. "Wait, what is his last name?"

No one seemed to have the answer and you cried out, the aching returning as the man giving you a hard time did not yield. These goons were to no use and your head dropped back to the ground, ceasing in restraining.

The chances you did not know the size of, and considering your luck, your guess was not 'immense', but it was what kept you listening to their discussing as you shifted to decrease the pain induced. Could it possibly be?

As you, helplessly, lied there on the tarmac you closed your eyes, mind struggling to conclude if you even wished for it to be the Negan you knew. Perhaps a bullet would have been better than facing that confrontation.

TAGLIST: @pseudonymfox @ask-kakashihatake @shanaatjelove11 @telltheking-cassetoi @babygirlmeepi @missghoul18 @thealipower @jdmsgal @eprilin @catlovescat @purpleflamingosarelife @reedusaddicts @lilymdonaldson @leedolady @yonisen @brynnjaminthings @fcknposer @wolfangelwings @sarahlee8793 @shethenightwolf @asteroidsx @dorky-dacre @unknown-fallen-angel @beegnc @mypopurribitch @arts-gelatoes @ofxallxwexlost @superwhoteen @briefpatrolponyllama @hippycloudd @lillyloveotomy @pieces-of-tomorrow @being-deadly-sirius @superwhoteen @you-are-electric-temptation-girl @ddeo-na-ji-ma @bunbutter @myluckhasrunout

#negan #imagine #the walking dead negan #negan twd #twd negan #negan fanfiction #coach negan #starplayer #theplumsoldier #jeffreydeanmorgan #jeffrey dean morgan smut #negan smut #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

[writingismyhappytime]

Marry Me (Part 4)

Ricky Horror x Reader

Warnings: Language

You admire your ring where you sit at the desk in your shop. It sparkles, and is pretty noticeable on your finger, which you like.

He did good.

You purse your lips thoughtfully, wondering when the shit is really going to hit the fan. So far social media hasn't exploded, no one recognized Ricky at the restaurant, and none of your mechanics have made any comments about the rock on your finger.

You don't see how, you feel like it's huge, the first thing anyone will notice because it's so new.

You tilt your fingers as you look at it, letting the lights hit the diamonds. He probably paid a pretty penny for it, and that's more than what you expected; you almost figured he'd get a ring out of a vending machine as a joke.

So you're pretty pleased.

Hopefully he can still take it back when everything is over.

You glance over as your phone buzzes, and you sigh as you see his name. Hopefully he's calling with good news, like maybe you can actually move this wedding business along already.

"Hey." You shuffle, pressing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you pick up a pen, twirling it between your fingers.

"Hey. So I told Ryan."

Your chest clenches. "About last night?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Can't he spit it out!? Does Ryan approve? You're sort of basing everyone's reaction on his, so you hope it was positive.

"I mean, he was pretty floored." Ricky sighs, sounding tired. "Didn't expect it. He thought I was just asking you out officially, not asking you to marry me."

"He asked if I was pregnant, right?"

"... maybe."

You chuckle, amused at the reluctance in his voice to admit you were right. "I told you that would be his first thought. So is he okay with it?"

"Doesn't really have a choice but to be, but I mean he didn't throw you under the bus or anything."

That's good. "Is he cool with being the best man?"

"Seems that way. You're gonna have a maid of honor right?"

"Well, I have one in mind. Do you think Devin looks good in purple?" You tease, and you can practically see Ricky roll his eyes over the phone.

"Hilarious. Truly. I'm dying." He mumbles sarcastically, which only makes you grin. "But I'm telling the guys all tonight, Devin is still in town because of Joshs grand opening, so I'm getting everyone together. Are you going to tell your family?"

Right, er, your family.

Your one aunt and cousins.

"I guess so. I was just waiting to see what you wanted to do. So you're telling the guys and then what? Do we just have a wedding?"

"Basically, I guess."

"You're not doing the social media thing?"

"I dunno. I don't want to overkill it, I guess. Make it seem like a show. If it gets out, then so be it. But I don't really want to post about it."

Fair enough, that doesn't really matter to you.

"Alright. So I can go ahead with the wedding plans?"

"... yeah."

"Don't sound so glum, Ricky, this is going to be fun."

"Why do women always say that?" He sighs dramatically. "Fun is equal to complete torture."

"Ahuh. Well suck it up. We have a lot to do in a month you know. I have to find a venue to get booked, find a dress and you a tux, go cake tasting ---."

"Cake... tasting?"

"Of course! We have to have a wedding cake!"

"Is that expensive?"

"Ricky!"

" I'm just kidding," he chuckles. "I told you you could do whatever. You wanted pigeons and rainbows and all that."

"Doves, Ricky, doves. Pay attention, would you? Do you need me to write you a list?"

"Uh, no."

You smirk, leaning back in your chair.

You're going to have so much fun with this.

"Anyhow. I've already called the bakery in town and they can get us in tomorrow at noon to taste cake." You twist the pen between your fingers thoughtfully, gazing at nothing in particular. "Don't bail, this is important. Piss me off and I'll make sure it's made of pizza."

You know he rolls his eyes this time.

~~~~~~

Well, telling the guys was memorable. Ricky almost wishes he'd taken a picture at this point, just so he can never forget their faces. Everyone had been floored, and there was a full minute of awkward silence where everyone but Ryan waited for him to state it was a joke.

He wasn't joking.

Chris had actually seemed concerned, like Ricky wasn't making a completely rash decision out of stupidity. Ricky of course can't explain his reasoning, so he's given the lame you're just so in love with each other this is what you want excuse.

Honestly, he doesn't think the guys are buying it, but that's fine. When he gets fair custody of Chloe, he can explain what's going on to them, but he's not going to fuck everything up by saying anything just yet.

"Do you want white icing or what?"

"Huh?" Ricky blinks, brought out of his reverie by your excited voice. His head slowly swivels to where you're sitting beside him on the sofa, your legs criss-cross and a bunch of pamphlets open in your lap. You'd dropped by unexpectedly with an arm load and basically not given him a choice but to look at it.

Ryan isn't home, so Ricky can actually relax right now. He doesn't have to put on a show, force some affectionate gesture towards you or the like, you can just be normal again. He's glad it didn't get awkward after that impromptu kiss from the other night, especially since he hadn't even been prepped for it.

Of course, he's going to have to be, isn't he? Couples kiss, and it's not like your lips hadn't been soft and warm against his.

"White icing?" You flail a paper at him, and he reluctantly takes it, seeing different flavors of icing on the smooth paper, also displaying the different types of cakes. "Yes or no? Are you allergic to anything?"

"Not that I know of." He mumbles, the ink on his fingers seeming darker as he holds the papers. He squints slightly, blinking as you hand him more to read.

"Good. Now what kind of style cake do we want? Three tier? One big one? I kind of like the stacked look, we can even get one of those ironic bridegroom things on top!" You can't help the excitement in your voice, an image already in your head about how you want the cake to look. "And what about the catering? We could get the Italian restaurant for some, mainly the appetizers."

The more you speak, the more Ricky sees dollar signs.

By the time Ryan gets home, you have the pamphlets spread out all over their coffee table, you and Ricky sitting in the floor in front of it. You're talking, holding three in your hand and asking him to pick already, that those are the ones you need to call in the morning and let the baker know you're sampling.

Ricky looks torn between panicked and sick.

"RICKY."

"I just --- I don't know," he shuffles uncomfortably. "You want strawberries, right?"

"Yes, it can be one of the desserts. But what do you want the cake to taste like?"

".... Cake?"

You groan in frustration, starting to get irritated. It's just a simple thing to pick!

"Uh, what happened to our living room?" Ryan blinks where he stands in the doorway, his hands slipping into his pockets. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

"I'm trying to decide on a cake," you say impatiently, twisting on your knees to look at him over your shoulder. "Chocolate or white?"

"For what?"

"For the type of cake!"

"Uh, white."

"Thank you!" you huff, tossing one pamphlet away completely. Now just two left. "Now, what do we want the cake to look like? Three tier, no cute bridal ornament ---," Ricky had vetoed that pretty immediately, something about "tacky." You feel the same so you’re not upset about it.  "How do you want it to look? I know you don't want just a white cake with all girly designs."

You're trying to be fair here.

Ricky sighs.

"Why don't we talk it over with the baker tomorrow, alright? We've decided the basics, haven't we?"

"Well, for the cake. But we haven't talked about the rest of the food, or even where we're going to have the wedding! And since it's so soon, we need to find out who can marry us, get the dress and you a tux, and ---." You stop, seeing the overwhelmed and slightly frightened look on your new fiance's face with a sigh.

So basically you're doing everything yourself, aren't you?

My life savings, is all Ricky thinks.

"Don't worry about it," you finally mutter, starting to gather all of your papers together. "I'll get it all figured out by myself, I guess."

Jesus.

"(Y/N) ---."

"No, no, don't worry about. If you had your way, I'm sure we'd just have coffee to drink and a fondu fountain of creamer," you huff, finally getting to your feet, your legs tingling from kneeling so long. You're a little annoyed he's not at least acting like he's interested --- he just looks completely freaked out! You're starting to wonder if you won't get to the day of the wedding and he'll not be there, that he'll embarrass you and leave you waiting at the altar.

You'll never forgive him if he does.

Ryan casually strolls his ass out of the line of fire.

"(Y/N), come on, don't be like that. I just... all of this is a little much, isn't it? I mean, I get the cake and all that, but there's so many... options." He looks around a little helplessly. "Why so many options?"

"Don't be a baby, it's just cake."

Cake that costs almost a hundred dollars!

"I know. But then what? Outfits?"

"Well, yes. I need a wedding dress, you need a tux --- and not one of your concert outfits either!"

Ricky looks miffed. He wouldn't use one of his outfits. "I know that."

"It's not like I'm asking a lot out of you, Ricky." You finally huff, crossing your arms indignantly as you glare at him. He asked you first, he involved you --- he can't be such a little bitch about it now! You have way too much you have to get done in a short amount of time, and you're already having to neglect your shop a little to do so! Your guys of course fervently congratulated you for your impending marriage --- if not all looking completely confused as hell.

And of course they're all coming to the wedding, although you haven't mentioned that fact to your future husband yet; it's not like you have a lot of family to sit in the pews.

Speaking of which.

"Do you want a church or the outdoors?" You ask after a moment, thoughtlessly changing topics as you tap the papers against your arm.

"A church?" The blue eyed man sends you a skeptical look. "I mean, a church? Neither of us are religious."

"But churches are pretty and it's not like you're going to burst into flames by just stepping into one. I know a cute one just out of town that will probably host us, and we can use their reception hall for afterwards." You say, brightening; that would make things easier! "I'm working on the pastors car this week, so maybe I can even get him to agree to marry us if I discount his repair!"

Oh jeez.

"Are you seriously going to bribe a priest?" Should Ricky be proud or horrified you'd go to that level?

You give him a grin. "I dunno, think if I throw in an extra fifty he'd wear the Frank N. Furter outfit?"

Fuck, you're both going to hell, aren't you?

~~~~~~~~~

The cake is disappointing.

You're not sure if it's because it's incredibly too dry, you're just not into tasting cake, or that Ricky fucking didn't show up! You sigh where you sit at the little white clothed table in the bakery, poking at your cake options with your fork. Your engagement ring is glittering on your finger, and although the baker is all bright and bubbly and waving a few more cake options in front of you, you're a little bummed.

You know Ricky had to pick Chloe up today since school was closing early, so he'd already mentioned he would be a few minutes late.

Well, now it's an hour.

"I'm sure he's going to show up, dear." Margerie the baker says, lightly sitting down in front of you. You don't know her, the town is large enough where no one knows everyone, which is one of the things you like about it. You just shrug your shoulders at her, picking at the tablecloth a little.

"I like the white cake the best," you say after a moment, nudging it with your fork. "But I'm not sure on the icing. His daughter is allergic to nuts, so I want to stay away from anything like that." Well, Chloe has a mild allergy, not so severe she'd die, but enough where she gets a hard time breathing and you don't want that. So, no peanut butter, or cashews, when that child is staying with you.

"Of course! Is there any design you're wanting?"

"The three tier, for sure." You bob your head, looking over at the book she has laid out on the table with pictures of her creations. "I definitely like how this one towers upward, but I want to make sure it's easy to cut so we don't mess it up."

"I can always do different colors, as well. Perhaps one side of the cake one design, the other something different?"

You purse your lips. Ricky might go for that.

Your head turns as you hear the bell above the door ding, and you relax a little.

Finally!

"Hi, (Y/N!)" Chloe gasps as she bursts through the bakery door in a little white dress with red strawberries printed on it. You smile, opening your arms as she barrels into you, her eyes lighting immediately on the different flavors of cake. She boldly pulls herself up into your lap as if it's the most natural gesture in the world, looking at the different options before her.

Ricky trails behind her wearily, looking a little stressed and more than ready for the day to be over. He just mumbles an apology for being late as he sits down in the chair beside you, running a hand through his dark hair.

The baker raises a brow, but doesn't comment.

You know, you get it. You don't exactly match as a couple.

Ricky is all tats, and from his fingers to his toes he doesn't really look like someone you'd casually greet on the street, or to have a little girl holding his hand so happily. Chloe doesn't think twice about his appearance, to her, that's just her father, and you sort of admire how she doesn't place any bearings on appearances.

Although she is starting to get a little heavy in your lap.

"What's this one?" Chloe asks, taking up your fork and poking at the cake you'd been sampling.

"French vanilla," you lean back in your chair, not saying a word as the little girl samples it.

"Eh, it's so sweet! What's this one?"

"Honey cake." The baker says, looking amused.

At least Chloe is interested in cake sampling!

You glance at Ricky beneath your lashes, seeing his withdrawn expression. He usually only looks that way after he's had a fight with Claire, so you can only imagine what picking Chloe up must have been like. Did they have an argument? What's going on now? Surely news hasn't gotten back to his ex just yet?

It's only been a few days!

Has anyone told Chloe?

You wonder how she'll react.

"Okay, so what's your favorite?" You ask the little girl in your lap, shuffling slightly.

"I like the plain vanilla, but I like this icing!"

"It's whipped buttercream."

Lots of vanilla, huh? Lots of white.

"Ricky, try some and see what you think," you say after a moment, cutting your eyes at him; you'd viewed this going a little differently in your head, he could at least go along with it. He looks like he's going to decline, except Chloe turns with those bright, matching eyes of hers and offers him a nice sized bite of cake with a hopeful expression.

"Yeah, Daddy! Try it! This one is my favorite!"

He hesitates, but relents, mumbling an okay before obediently opening his lips. He makes an approving sound, but you know he's liking the chocolate torte cake more than anything else once he really starts trying them.

You relax a little, settling in your chair. Chloe seems perfectly content in your lap, seeming to enjoy herself a chat with the baker, who immediately has fallen head over heels for the small child; it's not a very hard thing to do.

You absently straighten the white bow in the back of her dark hair, she hardly noticing. She's used to you, very comfortable, so maybe that means that she'll be okay with you marrying her father? Will she even understand what that means? She's still so young, and there's no telling what she's going to overhear Claire start saying when the news really gets out.

You can only imagine the bomb that's going to be.

Hell, you're still not so sure about it yourself!

"So white cake with white frosting?" The baker asks after a moment as Chloe innocently declares this is the cake the two of you should get for your "party."

Oh jeez.

"That's good with me." You smile, and Ricky just nods his head; why is he so distracted, so quiet?

What happened?

"Chloe, why don't you go wash your hands, and we'll go get some non-sweet food, okay?" You say lightly as the baker begins gathering the plates. Chloe just chirps an okay before she starts for the bathroom, skipping her way towards it.

"Alright, asshole, what's going on?" You hiss softly under your breath, swiveling abruptly in your chair and glaring at the black haired man behind you so fervently he looks startled. "Why were you so late?"

"I ---." His eyes flick towards the half open bathroom door as the sink turns on. The baker has hastily departed towards the counter, turning her back so the two of you have at least the appearance of privacy. "I had to pick up Chloe from Claire, and she already knows about us."

"What!? How?" You're honestly not sure if you're surprised or not. But who told her?

"I honestly don't know." He runs a weary hand through his hair. "But she tore me a new asshole, that's for sure. I don't know how much of it Chloe heard."

What a bitch.

You huff, propping your chin in your hand. "What all did she say?"

"I'll tell you later. You coming over tonight?"

"I didn't really plan on it." You have to work this afternoon, you're going to be tired and covered in grease. You like a hot shower and time to relax after a day like that.

Ricky squirms. "I'll put Chloe to bed tonight and then slip over. I just don't want her overhearing."

Ahuh.

Inviting himself to your place? You purse your lips, but he might as well; he might be backing out after the fight with Claire, so at least you'll know tonight before you really get started on the wedding business.

"Alright. But bring breadsticks."

~~~~~~~

"Ricky, you're making me nervous. What's going on?" You ask nervously. You're standing in your apartment above your shop. It's late, nearly midnight, you're tired and you've yet to have a shower. You'd stayed over several hours working on a car that your adventures with Ricky are putting you behind on, and the owner is expecting it by tomorrow afternoon!

Ricky sighs, finally stopping his pacing back and forth in front of your patched sofa. You look more like what he's used too, dressed in that awful, black-streaked jumpsuit with splotches of grease or something on your hands or arms. Your hair is in a knot on the back of your head, and you look as tired as you sounds, he almost feels guilty for coming over so late.

"So, I picked Chloe up from school today, from Claire."

"The evil witch of the west, yeah. And?"

"And she already knows we're getting married... soon. She was super fucking pissed at me because I didn't consult her first," he practically spits the word, as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "Like she has any fucking say in what I do with my life now!"

Testy.

"Did she pitch a fit?" How the hell did that woman know?

"A mild one compared to her usual. Chloe was already in my car, so Claire kept her voice down, but I'm not sure what she heard," he sounds as weary as you feel, slowly sinking down onto the edge of the sofa arm. "She was upset I didn't tell her first, as the mother of my child, like I owe her something."

"She is the one who broke up with you first, right? She kind of lost all claim then." you snort, your hands on your hips. "Just because she had a kid with you doesn't mean she owns you for the rest of your life."

"No, just a thousand more years."

Well.

"I mean, she was going to find out anyway," you offer after a moment, taking a few steps toward him.

Your apartment isn't huge, but it's a decent size. You enter through the office in the shop, go up a flight of stairs where you enter the kitchen. It has ancient, yellow tiles, but it's big enough where it doesn't feel cramped. The fridge is as old as you are, but it does its job, and it's not like you use anything other than it and the microwave on the counter beside it. Your table is old and a little scratched up, but it's got history, and your wallpaper is, admittedly, in need of a good... dusting. Still, it's your home, and you can't imagine it any other way; you're still not quite sure how you're going to feel with Ricky and Chloe both crashing in it sometimes.

What if Chloe doesn't like it? She's never been to your place.

"Yeah, but I didn't figure so soon."

"Well, it doesn't matter now. We're still having our wedding." You frown, crossing your arms. You're not exactly sure what you're supposed to say here. "Chloe can even be the flower girl. Or hell, she can be the maid of honor!" You don't care. "But, Ricky, it doesn't matter. Whatever Claire said to try to tear you down, it's just because she's an asshole."

Well, Ricky won't disagree there.

But...

"She said she wasn't surprised, that she figured we'd been fucking around the entire time anyhow." He mumbles, and he sees you straighten slightly, as if you're offended. "I guess everyone sort of did anyway, huh?"

"Well, I don't know. But Claire's a bitch who tries to ruin everything, and her only good moments are when she's not around, so," you shrug your shoulders, refusing to let his ex ruin everything; you're already planning on getting your dress the upcoming weekend, so you're just a teeny bit excited about that. "I don't care what she said, and neither should you." You tap him lightly on the shoulder, his blue eyes finally flicking over to yours. "It's your life, isn't it? I know our wedding isn't as legit as everyone thinks it is, but if we were getting married under different circumstances, I would hope you still wouldn't have second thoughts just because of her."

"No, the only thoughts I have of her are regret." He mutters, looking down at his fingers. "I used to wish we hadn't had a kid together, just so we wouldn't be tied to each other. But I don't know what I would do if I didn't have Chloe now."

Yeah.

Having a kid changes everything, even the way you think about things.

"It's okay." You squeeze his shoulder, not quite sure what else you're supposed to do; when it gets to being all sentimental and emotional, you're not very good. You'd rather, well, change the subject.

But...

"Ricky, there is something we need to talk about."

"Yeah?" He glances at you, and you can see his guard rising already; he doesn't have to look so apprehensive!

"Well," your hands return to your hips, which Ricky has learned is pretty much your "I'm about to tell you something you might not like to hear" pose. "You know we're going to have to start being more affectionate, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I figured. Nice kiss the other night. You made it seem pretty real."

"Thanks," you smile slightly, pleased. "I tried. But, that does mean we're going to have to start doing it in public. And you can't cringe."

"I don't cringe."

"You tense up." You quirk a brow at him, refusing to let him sulk or mumble his way out of the conversation. "You're not relaxed, and that makes it pretty obvious you don't want to be kissing me."

"It's not --- okay, don't say it like that," He sounds slightly exasperated as he pushes to his feet, flushing. "I was just surprised, okay? I didn't expect it."

"Well, it seemed like the most natural thing to do, don't you think?"

"Well, yeah." He awkwardly rubs the back of his head. "It was."

"So, I mean, we're going to have to kiss on our wedding day. Like, with our lips."

"I know that."

"So then don't be a little bitch about it! Kiss me."

"I will, I will!" He huffs, growing embarrassed; why are you making such a big deal out of this right now?

"No, Ricky, I'm serious. That's what's going to fuck up this entire thing. You, sir, definitely need to relax more." You poke his shoulder playfully, hoping to lighten the mood a little. "I'm not asking you to make out with me, and we only have to do it in public, but I do think I'm a pretty good kisser for the most part. Don't ruin my ego."

He doesn't disagree. "I won't, don't worry. I was just surprised."

"Ahuh. Well, I'm going to do it when you least expect it," you decide, reaching up to tug your hair free of its bindings. Ricky watches as it tumbles down around your shoulders absently, shifting as you walk past him towards the hallway. "I'll shock you and you better kiss me back."

He can't believe he's having this conversation with you, he feels foolish.

"I think you're making this out to be a bigger deal then what it really is."

"Yeah, I don't think so. You realize you look like you're about to faint any time we start talking about the wedding, right?" You've been meaning to bring this up but you haven't had the opportunity. You sit down in your arm chair, reaching down to unlace your shoes. "You get this sick, 'I'm gonna hurl' expression on your face each time."

"No I don't."

"Ricky. Seriously. What are you so worried about? I'm basically taking care of the planning, all you gotta do is show up."

"It's not the planning, it's --- it's the cost. I don't know how we're going to afford it."

You roll your eyes, kicking out of your shoes and leaving them in the floor as you hop back up. "I know it sounds like it's a ton of money, but it's not. We're going in halfsies, right?"

Halfsies?

"That's what we agreed on."

"Then don't worry. I'm trying to be fair, it's your wedding too, so I want you involved," you shrug your shoulders, gazing at him from across the room. "I mean, it's a memory for both of us. I want it to be something we enjoy, not look back at and cringe."

Again with the cringing!

He doesn't cringe!

"Okay, I don't cringe. And I get it, I'm just... worried about Claire. What she's going to tell Chloe."

"Well, Chloe thinks we're just having a party, right?"

"I don't think she understands the concept of a wedding and what it means."

"She's a kid, it's fine."

"Yeah, but she's smart. She understands a lot more than what she should, and what about what Claire is saying to someone else about what's going on?"

"What does it matter what Claire's saying?" Now you're just annoyed at hearing her name; how many times can Ricky ruin a conversation by bringing his ex up?

"(Y/N), what Claire tells people, Chloe overhears. So if she's ---."

"Telling everyone I'm a big whore and we're only getting married because you're foolish and I'm a gold-digger, you think Chloe is going to... well, that it's going to affect her?" You hadn't really thought about that, but he has a point.

Well.

Chloe's opinion of you might change if she listens to her mother, huh?

"She shouldn't say anything like that around a kid."

"She might not mean too, but she's always had a loud mouth."

Welp, you agree with that.

Still...

You shrug your shoulders, deciding it's going to be what it's going to be.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter in the long run, does it?" You say after a moment, reaching for the buttons holding your jumper together. Ricky stiffens slightly, almost confused as you start unbuttoning it. "This isn't a real marriage, and as soon as you get your custody of Chloe, we're getting a divorce, right? So what does her opinion of me matter?"

"It matters a lot. You're a good person, especially for doing this for me." Uh, should he avert his eyes or...? What the hell are you doing? Are you even wearing anything under that!? "This is a big deal."

"Yeah, but we're both getting something out of it. You custody, me a pretty wedding."

"But it..."

"Don't tell me it's not real, Ricky," you cut him off, huffing as you shirk out of the sleeves, letting it hang off your waist; you have a tank on underneath, and your jeans, you just wear the old jumpsuit of your fathers so you don't ruin your clothing. "Because I want to pretend it is."

"That wasn't what I was going to say." His brows furrow. "You want a real wedding, and that's what you're getting. I know I'm... it's just weird, because I know that we're just pretending."

"It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess I just --- I never really thought it through, I never thought you'd agree."

"Well, you know how I am about surprising people." Your lips curve in amusement as you gaze at his flushed cheeks. "I know in the end we're just friends, but we do have to at least pretend we're having sex, you know that, right? I won't bite your hand off if you touch me or kiss me."

He flushes pink. You're always so blunt, even after all these years it catches him off guard.

"I know."

"Good. So get your act together. I expect full tongue on my wedding day, thank you very much."

Ricky snorts, relaxing when he feels the mood lighten. "Sure."

You grin, brazenly slipping over to him. You let  your fingers lightly rest against his arms, causing his cautious eyes to flick to yours immediately; you smell like a grease rag, which is normal, and somehow he finds the scent a little comforting. You're probably the best friend he has right now, the only one he can really be honest with, and he knows you undoubtedly have his back.

Isn't your spouse supposed to be your best friend anyway?

"So this weekend I'm shopping for my wedding dress, you need to find a tux." You lightly squeeze his arms. "I'll talk to the pastor tomorrow when he gets his car about marrying us and using the church."

"You were serious about the church?"

"Hey, if they'll let us use it relatively cheap, don't knock it. We don't have a lot of options on such short notice."

Well.

"Okay." Ricky shrugs, his eyes thoughtfully landing on your lips; even now they look soft and smooth, despite you have a bad tendency to bite them. "I'll get one. And the church is fine."

"Awesome." You brighten, pleased that he's agreeing and not flinching at the idea of it. "Now I'm going to take a shower and go to bed, I have an early morning."

Yeah, so does he. Chloe is an early bird, plus she has school.

"I'll see you later then."

"Yep. Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" You take a step back, the saying leaving your lips naturally; your dad used to say it all the time, and you'd just sort of picked it up as well. Doesn't really mean anything, just your way of saying goodbye.

Ricky starts to let you go, but ---- oh the opportunity.

He catches your hand last minute, tugging just enough to get you to turn around and look at him, expecting him to say something else. Instead, you find his hand cupping your cheek, tilting it upwards as his lips slip firmly over yours.

Fucker!

You blink in surprise, going still for several seconds before you snort, pulling away with a wry grin.

"Alright, asshole. Two points."

Ricky smirks, his fingers still curled through yours, your warm cheek against his palm. "You're right, I need to be more affectionate. Guess we're both in for ---."

"Just shut up and get out so I can take a shower."

Ricky laughs.

You don't hear him laugh often, especially not in recent years, so you relax as you hear the sound. He just grins at you, giving your fingers a squeeze before he starts for the door.

Yeesh.

What are you going to do with this man?

Marry him, obviously.

But you just... does it always have to be fake?

Tags:  @ryansitkowskiswifey, @theoneandonlykymberlee,  maelloute,  musicsexandpizza69,  jojomiwbvb6

#ricky horror #ricky horror fan fiction #ricky horror gets married #ricky horror imagines #miw #motionless in white #miw imagines #motionless in white fan fiction

[lovemesomerafael]

Others Like Me                                Chapter 14: The Tower

       Chapters 1 - 10   Chapter 11  Chapter 12   Chapter 13  

                                      Read It On AO3

“For what it’s worth, he’s genetically identical to our Barnes,” Bruce says.  “He doesn’t scar any more than ours does, but there is evidence on the scans that he’s had some of the same injuries as our Barnes.  And there’s also evidence that he’s been through something like what he describes with this Hydra.”

“Like what?” Clint asks.

“I haven’t spent much time on the arm itself, that’s Stark, but the way it’s attached?  It’s a nightmare. That thing’s gotta hurt every minute.  It looks like it’s been worked on, and it’s nice work.  But there are some ways he’s healed that are just the best his body could do.  It’s clear that it was originally attached very differently, crudely, with a lot of attention to making sure he could feel with the arm and hand, but almost no attention to the way the arm itself would feel to him.”

“Shit,” Natasha hisses.

They’re sitting around the large, oval table in the conference room, with the scans Bruce is describing hovering above the center.  Tony has called this meeting to decide what the hell they’re supposed to do with Bucky.  Marya is purposely not in the room, although she’s made it abundantly clear that she’s furious about that.  Tony ended up having to make her nonattendance a direct order and require her to agree, in the presence of Jarvis, that she would not listen in.  Now that they’d discovered her back door to the camera feed from the brig, it was the only way to ensure that she couldn’t sweet-talk or hack Jarvis into helping her again.

“It gets worse,” Bruce continues. “We all know the kinds of injuries Barnes has had. Lotta breaks, lotta organ damage, right?”

“I feel like I get stabbed more than is really fair, too,” Barnes muses.

“Well this guy, his scans make yours look pristine.  Even with super healing, his body shows the marks of a hell of a life.”

“What are you saying, Banner?”  Tony asks, scowling.

“I’m saying that his scans are telling the same story his mouth is. Everything physical we’ve looked at is consistent. Down to the permanent thickening of his skull where he says that ‘emptying’ machine attached. It looks just like Marya’s, only worse.  Much worse.”

“I don’t think Marya needs to know that,” Natasha notes.   Sam huffs disgustedly, but stays mute.

Tony lifts his chin from the hand it’s been resting on, two fingers splayed across his cheek in his characteristic ‘listening to things he doesn’t want to hear’ pose. “Anything else?”

“That’s about it.”

“Well, the arm’s interesting,” Tony says.  “It’s Stark tech, for the most part, but the materials and some of the features are pure Wakanda.  Shuri confirmed it.  T’Challa is outraged; he wants to disembowel whoever stole Wakandan secrets.”

Natasha sighs.  “T’Challa’s so hot when he talks about disembowelment.”

“You didn’t tell him about Bucky, did you?”  Sam asks.

Tony answers with a glare so disdainful only Tony Stark could achieve it.

Clint is squatting on his seat, as he always does, no matter how often Sam tries to explain to him how chairs work.  “What about the switch?”

All eyes turn back to Tony, who doesn’t answer for a moment.  Instead, he picks up the switch from the table in front of him and looks at it thoughtfully.  He’s clearly troubled.  

“Tony?”  Natasha prods.

“It’s a little different from Marya’s.  The design, the way it works, is the same.  It’s got a couple of upgrades I approve of.  But it’s a little crude.  Not as well-made as hers.”

Sam waves a hand toward the switch.  “Which is entirely consistent with Bucky having made it himself, using Stark’s design.  Just like he said.  Look, I’m ready to vote.  I believe the guy.”

“Just, slow your roll a minute,” Tony instructs him.  “Nat?  You’re the human lie detector, what do you think?”

“I got nothin’, Stark.  He’s consistent, he’s got no tells…  I have absolutely nothing that says he’s lying.”

“But…?”  Clint rolls his eyes.

“But this Hydra he says trained him.  They sound a lot like the Red Room.  I’m consistent and I don’t have any tells, either.”

“Which I keep telling her, is completely circular.  She can’t base not believing his story on the story itself. Either you believe it or you don’t.”

“Not true.  Legends are much more effective when there’s as much truth to them as possible.  This guy was trained by somebody.  He’s gotta know we’d spot that.  So he builds it into his legend and explains it away.”

Clint makes a disgusted sound.  

“Guess we know where you stand, huh, Clint?”  Sam asks hopefully.

“I don’t know.  What I know is that we’re fucked here.  There’s no way to prove or disprove his story, because according to Stark and Banner’s multiverse Theory, there’s a universe where this guy has all the same physical attributes, even though he’s not the Barnes from Marya’s universe.  In which case-“

“He comes from right here,” Tony snaps, cutting Clint off.  “He’s a spy.  Somebody’s trying to infiltrate the Avengers Initiative, and they know about Marya, so they built themselves a Barnes to get to us through her.”

“He’s a genetic duplicate, Tony,” Bruce argues.  “Nobody has cloning technology that can-“

Tony scoffs.  “Oh, so you’re Team Bucky now?”

“I’m Team Science.”

It goes on like that for quite a while, as lines begin to be drawn between those who believe Bucky is who he says he is – Sam and Bruce – and those who don’t – Natasha and Tony.  Clint wavers back and forth.  When Tony mentions that, it suddenly becomes clear to everyone that Barnes has said almost nothing throughout the meeting.

“Hey, Cap, you wanna-“

“Told you not to call me that,” Barnes snarls, low and menacing.

“Sorry,” Tony says quickly.  “You wanna weigh in here?  You got kind of a unique perspective, I’d say.”

“Maybe,” Barnes says quietly.  “But I got nothin’ to say right now.  I’m listenin’ to all of you, I’m weighin’ the evidence.  I’m not ready to vote.”

“This can’t go on forever, Barnes,” Natasha tells him.  “He’s a prisoner.”

“Ain’t like we got him in a gulag, Nat.  And he said himself he’s willing to be patient.”  Barnes looks up at the faces around the table.  “We gotta get this right.  Because I think we all know that if we decide he’s a threat, we can’t just let him go with a stern warning.”

That silences everyone for a few moments.  Some of them exchange troubled glances, others avoid eye contact.  Because they all know what Barnes is saying.  If Bucky’s a threat, he can’t be allowed to leave the Tower.  Not with all that he knows.  And their choices narrow down to two very unpleasant options.

Barnes gets up from the table.

“Where are you going?”  Tony asks, annoyed.

“I hate meetings.  You know that.  I’m going to the gym.  Think I’ll see if Bucky wants to spar.”  Something in his voice, and the look he gives Tony as he says it, is vaguely threatening. Whatever he has in mind, it’s not a simple workout.

“Now, this I gotta see,” Sam smiles.

“No,” Barnes says sharply.  “You don’t. Everybody stays the fuck out of the gym until I say different.  And Jarvis?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You broadcast anything from in there and I promise you, I will do shit to your hard drive that’ll make you develop emotions just so you can cry. You feel me?”

“Understood, Captain.”

*****

In the gym, Bucky is standing in front of Barnes, leaning on a rack of hand weights, watching Barnes tape his hands.  He’s explained that he tapes his hands because he hates breaking his fingers, which used to happen all the time with Steve.  Barnes expects it’ll be the same with Bucky, because Barnes wants a full-on match.  Bucky hates broken fingers, too, but it never occurred to him to tape his hands.  He considers trying it, but in the end, he doesn’t bother. He’s got other things on his mind.

They’re both uncomfortable, but for very different reasons.

Barnes isn’t at all sure it’s smart to invite a prisoner, a potential spy and a man he knows is dangerous as all hell, to beat the crap out of him if he can.  He’s not even sure what he hopes to accomplish.  He wonders if this isn’t the biggest mistake he’s made yet as Captain America, and wishes for about the two millionth time today that Steve was here. Steve would advise asking Tony to suit up and stand guard.  Barnes is disgusted about twenty-seven ways by the fact that, if Steve were here, he would take that advice and mock Steve the whole time for being a grandma.  Because it would be good advice.  Barnes is in a world of hurt if Bucky goes off and he has no backup.  But he can’t make himself ask Tony to do it.  Shit, how much of his badass reputation is built on nothing more than bitching that he didn’t need Steve to protect him, while Steve took the heat and protected him anyway?

Bucky, for his part, is struggling to hide his internal chaos.  His fight-or-flight response is so powerful right now, it’s almost painful.  He can’t shake the persistent warning sparking through his entire body, screaming that this is a trap.  If Barnes was Hydra, it would have been.  Bucky knows full well what happens when you raise a hand to your captors.  It’s all well and good to crush a minion or two on occasion; Hydra had plenty of those.  Hydra brass actually thought it was kind of cute when the Asset did that.  But Barnes has authority here.  He is not a minion.  And if Bucky takes the bait and he’s wrong…  He stands glowering at the floor, deep lines etched in his face as he endures a waking nightmare as real as it was when it really happened.

“Hey!”  Barnes calls, sharp and loud.

Bucky’s head jerks up and he damn near responds in Russian.

“The fuck did you go?” Barnes asks, genuinely concerned.

But Bucky’s not about to acknowledge the flashback.  “I, uh… Nowhere.  Tryin’ to figure out what to call you, is all.  I ain’t callin’ you Jim.”

“Says the asshole who calls himself Bucky.”

Barnes’ grin is actually a little reassuring.  It probably shouldn’t be – God knows Bucky could invent some unspeakable tortures if he had a mind to, which means this guy is just as twisted - but it is.  

“Stick with Barnes. It’s what everyone uses, anyway.”

“Fuck you.  That’s my name.”

“Listen, you got clear title to Bucky, pal.  I ain’t goin’ near that.”  He stands up and motions for Bucky to follow him to the middle of the huge mat covering much of the floor of the gym.  

“So, this sparring, there any rules?”  Bucky asks, trying like hell to seem nonchalant.

“No killing.  No destroying the gym, unless you wanna listen to Stark whine.  That’s about it.”

Bucky is absolutely not reassured by that, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to spool up any tighter about it, because the next thing he knows, he’s on his ass on the mat. Barnes has swept his legs out from under him and is just beginning to reach for Bucky’s throat when Bucky’s instincts take over.  

Bucky expected Barnes to reach for his throat.  So before he has a chance to get hold of him, Bucky flips to his feet and takes advantage of Barnes’ position to land a left uppercut that sends Barnes flying at least ten feet backward.  Bucky rushes him, which Barnes somehow also expects.  Stunned but spinning quickly to avoid him, Barnes gets behind Bucky and uses his momentum to throw Bucky headlong into the padded wall several feet away. In two moves, they’ve covered over thirty feet.  Suddenly, the gym seems kind of small.  

Bucky springs away from the wall, circling to get himself some room.  Barnes circles, too, and the two grin at each other from identical defensive crouches.  

“No killing, don’t bust up the gym.  Those really the only two rules?”  Bucky asks.

“Why, you want to add some? Make sure I don’t shame you too bad?”

“Nope,” Bucky says, grinning evilly.  “Just checkin’.”  He crosses the distance between them in a blur of speed and grasps Barnes, ready to yeet him into the wall across the room.  But Barnes sees it coming and, instead, Bucky’s suddenly on his back with Barnes on top of him, scrambling to get control of his arms.  Before he can, Bucky gets a foot under his gut and heaves Barnes six feet in the air and double that backwards.  Barnes crashes into the opposite wall, and both of them spring back into their defensive stances.  

The next few minutes are a dizzying kaleidoscope of punches and kicks, interspersed with balletic leaps and a steadily increasing level of trash talk.  Barnes can already tell that Bucky is the best opponent he’s ever fought. And Bucky now understands that Barnes’s offer to spar had been legitimate.  Neither one of them knows when they start laughing, but it’s early in the fight.  

There’s a lot of punching, but less than you might think, because they’re just too good at predicting each other’s moves.  Kicking’s like that, too, but at least there, they each know a few moves the other doesn’t. Both of them get some good body throws in, especially when the other tries to attack, because that, too, is predictable.  The intended victim, anticipating it, can use the motion against the attacker.  That quickly becomes a little frustrating.  They have essentially the same moves.  They have the same instincts.  They see each other’s next strike coming too easily.  Which is why training and technique give way, and their sparring match devolves into a street brawl.

At some point, Barnes runs Bucky into the rack of hand weights, which goes over in a very loud, very heavy crash.  Something’s wrong with Bucky’s left arm after that.  It’s also Barnes who throws Bucky into a wall high enough that, as he scrabbles for purchase while he’s falling, Bucky pulls the padding down with him.  The custom wooden racks that hold balance balls, yoga mats, foam rolls, jump ropes, and other equipment collapse when Bucky sends Barnes flying into them, face first.  That’s also how Barnes’ nose gets broken.  

It’s Bucky who picks up the treadmill to use as a shield but, in his defense, Barnes was the one who threw a fifty-pound hand weight at him, and it would’ve hurt if it had hit him. They know that because it totally destroys the treadmill.  They’re both responsible for the destruction of the weight bench, which was not meant for two supersoldiers to land on it simultaneously at full force, arms locked around each other’s necks.  But they never do agree whose fault it is that Barnes’s metal arm goes through one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, shattering it.  

So yeah, they only keep the no-killing rule.  By the time Barnes gives Jarvis the all-clear to unlock the doors, Tony’s gym is in ruins. Neither of the combatants had expected every single member of the team to come pouring into the room as soon as the locks released, but that’s only because they didn’t realize that the resounding thuds and crashes of their antics could be felt four floors in either direction.

The team slows, then creeps toward them, gaping at the carnage and peering amongst the debris to determine whether either of them has survived.  There’s blood in several places on the fourteen-foot high ceiling, and some of it is in the shape of bodies.  There’s wind whistling through the hole in the window, and it’s swaying the few light fixtures that survived, most of which are broken, including the one with a bloody jump rope wrapped around it.  The wall padding and the mat on the floor are torn beyond repair, which is fine because those bloodstains aren’t coming out, anyway.  The stuffing from inside the mats is everywhere.  Tony whimpers as he takes in the devastation.

Bucky’s laid out across the wreck of a machine the whole team uses to do exercises against hydraulic resistance, and Barnes is under what’s left of a rowing machine, somehow tangled up in the plastic scraps of what used to be an exercise ball.  They’re both bloody and bruised, each with a few broken bones that they know about.  Later, when Bruce insists on full body scans, they’ll discover Barnes also has a cracked femur.  They’re sweaty and exhausted, and their identical smiles are gleeful, if bloody, as they gasp for breath.  

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Tony moans.  

Both Barnes and Bucky cackle maniacally, before Bucky coughs wetly and groans.

“Bucky,” Bruce says tentatively, like he’s talking to a spooked animal.  “That red under you, is that blood, or another burst exercise ball?”

Bucky groans again, before answering thickly, “Prob’ly blood.  Don’t tell Barnes, but I got one of these bars through my chest.”

Bruce and Marya rush to him while Barnes begins laughing hysterically.  “You got stabbed by that thing?  What a pussy!”

“Yeah, you might wanna reserve judgment, there, Captain Oblivious,” Clint drawls, indicating Barnes’s leg.  

Barnes looks down to see that one of the oarlocks of the rowing machine has been broken from its mounting and is embedded in the meat of his left thigh.  “Dammit!”  He shrieks.

Now it’s Bucky laughing hysterically.

 Bruce, perhaps a little affected by the depth of Tony’s enraged despair at the state of his gym, is uncharacteristically autocratic about medical care for both Barnes and Bucky.  He gives them no options, but orders the rest of the team to help him strap them both to gurneys and haul them to the medical floor.

Over time, Marya’s learned to live with her terror of anything medical, developed as a result of her time as Hydra’s expendable soldier, slave, and experimental subject.  One of the ways Bruce has helped her do that is to teach her to assist him.  She’s gotten to the point where she doesn’t mind providing medical care, although she still dreads and resists receiving it.  When they reach the large trauma room on the medical floor, Bruce begins to bark instructions to her.

Barnes tries to object. “Not happening, Banner.  Get Sam to help you.  I don’t want Marya in here with him.”

Seeing Marya look to Bruce, Barnes cries, “Don’t look at him.  You don’t answer to him, you answer to me.”

“Not in here, she doesn’t,” Bruce says mildly.  “Marya, get an IV started, too.”

Barnes argues and threatens for a while, as Bruce and Marya ignore him.  Bruce conducts scans while Marya assesses wounds and administers first aid.  

“This is insubordination,” Barnes mutters grumpily as she cuts off his shorts to get to the large wound the broken oarlock has made in his thigh.

“I know, Captain,” she coos sympathetically.  “You’ll feel better once the morphine starts to work.”  

Bucky watches her hungrily. He’s in significant pain, but he’s long ago learned how to ignore that.  He waits impatiently while she cleans and bandages Barnes’s leg, wanting her to come back and stand next to him, to touch him again.  He’s drowsy from the pain medication Bruce has given him, and unaware of the goofy, dreamy smile on his face as he follows Marya with his eyes.

Barnes sees it, though, and scowls.  He only relaxes when Bucky’s eyes drift closed as the morphine takes a hold of him.

“I don’t know if you are my Sergeant, but you are definitely James Barnes,” Marya scolds Bucky as she cuts his shirt from his body, jolting him back to consciousness.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Barnes asks from the other exam table.

“Nothing complimentary,” Marya mutters.

Bucky grins at her.  “It’s worth it, getting my ass kicked, to get to see you.”

“So you admit I kicked your ass!”  Barnes shouts.

“Shut up and quit moving,” Bruce rebukes him.  “You’re blurring my scans.”

Marya’s hands are firm and sure as she begins to clean and examine the stab wound in Bucky’s chest.  He likes the practiced way she goes about her work, and the adorable wrinkles between her eyebrows as she concentrates.  

“I need something to call you,” she says, glancing up from her work to look into his eyes.  “I will not call you Sergeant, so I suppose I’ll have to call you Bucky.”

“But you said-“

“I said that I could not call the Zimniy Soldat Bucky. But I don’t know that you are the Zimniy Soldat.”

“That makes a weird kind of sense.”

“One of us should have some.  The two of you clearly don’t.”

Bucky’s grin widens and he feels a bloom of warmth in his chest that has nothing to do with the hole in his flesh and everything to do with the fondly exasperated look she’s giving him.  

“This chest wound is going to take a few layers of stitching,” Marya tells Bruce over her shoulder.  “I’ll get everything ready for you.”

“Don’t knock me out, though,” Bucky pleads.  “If this is the only time they’ll let me see you, I want to be awake.”

“Knock him the hell out,” Barnes growls.  

Unfortunately for Bucky, Bruce insists on sedating him as he repairs the stab wound.  Although Bucky will heal even without it, this universe’s Bruce is just as stubborn about proper medical care as the one from Bucky’s universe. Which means his time with Marya is cut disappointingly short.

*****

Bruce requires both Barnes and Bucky to remain on the medical floor overnight.  Once their injuries are treated and they’re stable, Bruce puts them both in one large room.  Since there are six private rooms on the floor, everyone is perfectly aware that making them share is punishment for their reckless stupidity in injuring each other and destroying the gym.  Both Barneses realize, too late, that they should have hidden the fact that it had been so much fun.    

Tony backs Barnes in requiring that Marya leave the medical floor now that the regular medical staff have arrived. Bucky’s disappointed, but not surprised.

As evening falls, there’s really nothing to do while they heal except talk.  The longer the groggy, intermittent conversation goes, the clearer it is to Bucky that something’s changed between them.  Barnes is willing to be much more open with him than any of them have been thus far. He would attribute some of that to morphine, except that he knows how good he, himself, is at keeping his mouth shut, even when under the influence of something.  

“It’s not getting better.  We’re basically putting out fires,” Barnes was saying.  “They call themselves the Ten Rings. Run by some shithead calls himself The Mandarin. Slippery fucker.  Absolutely ruthless.  Nat almost caught up with him once, but he ghosted.  Haven’t gotten close since.”

“That sucks.”

Barnes’s face went hard.  “Doesn’t matter.  Because if it’s the last thing I do, I gotta take them down.  Especially that Mandarin motherfucker.”  Barnes hisses, “He’s the one who killed Steve.”

Bucky can see that Barnes’s rage is never far below the surface.  “What, exactly, happened?”

“Ask someone else, man,” Barnes sighs.  “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

“Yeah.  I get it.”

There’s a lull then, the air thick with memories as cherished as they are excruciating.  After a while, Barnes practically whispers, “We were married, anyone tell you that?”

“Fuck!  No.”

“Yeah.  Dumbass finally says yes, then he gets himself killed.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

They go quiet again, the ghost of Steve Rogers palpable between them as they both remember, and ache.  It’s a therapeutic, in a way, just sitting here, grieving together the man they’ve both loved since they knew what love was.  The man they both still love with a savage, tormented violence.  Different though the circumstances were, they can each still fully understand the other’s grief at losing him.  They’re not talkers.  They don’t want, need, or even know how to speak their sorrow.  But as they lie there, lost for the moment in pain, they somehow realize that in this bizarre situation, there’s also absolutely no need.  To tell each other how they feel would be redundant.

An hour goes by in total silence.  Barnes is the first to break it, and it’s clear his thoughts have returned to the Ten Rings threat.  “Thing is, without Steve, we got even less chance than we had before, and we were already fucked.  They get bolder every damn time.”

Bucky catches the thread immediately.  “Yeah, I noticed there are a lot of terrorist attacks here. Lot more than in my universe.”  

“Yeah?”

“By maybe a factor of ten.  First thing I saw when I crash-landed here was that blown-out resort in Singapore.”

“Yeah, that was them.  The Ten Rings.  They wanted to disrupt Singapore’s economy.”

“Seems to have worked, if the exchange rate is any indication.”

“Oh, it worked, all right.  Bastards.”

“I wish I could help you.  I was jealous as hell when you guys flew off on your mission.  Haven’t felt that in a while.”

“What, you lose interest in fighting?  After Steve?”

“Lost interest in livin’, pal.  Sorry to be so blunt.”

“Nah.  Don’t apologize.  If I didn’t have those morons upstairs...  I wouldn’t have gotten through this last year without them.  Didn’t want to.  They dragged me back to life, kicking and screaming.  I don’t know how you did it without them.”

There was no shred of doubt or pretense in Barnes’s voice, and he was looking at Bucky as he said it.  Bucky’s eyes flew open and he turned to Barnes.  “You believe me.”

Barnes frowned and hesitated before saying, “I believe that you’re another me somehow. That multiverse thing’s as good a reason as any, I guess.  And Stark says it’s theoretically possible.  I believe you’re telling the truth about what you’ve been through.  Do I believe you’re the me that Marya knew?  I don’t know.  I just… I don’t know.  And that’s the thing.  She’s such a part of things here, I can’t take the risk that you’re not.  I know what she’s capable of.  I know how she feels about her Sergeant, and I also know there’s nothing she won’t do for someone she’s loyal to.”

Bucky grinned.  “Not to mention how polite and respectful of authority she is, all the while she’s disobeying your direct orders behind your back.”

“And she’s so fucking sweet about it you can’t stand to discipline her.”

“Even when she tells you to your face she’d do it again.”

Barnes and Bucky shake their heads, identical fond smiles on their faces as they roll their eyes in unison.

“That’s one of the reasons Stark leads the team, you know.  Some people think that role should go with the shield.  I don’t.  It should go to the one most capable, and Stark’s been here since the beginning.  That’s the main reason, but…  Not gonna lie, Marya’s another.  He can say no to her, enforce consequences when she steps out of line. Me, I just …”  Barnes huffs a laugh and shrugs helplessly.

And that’s when Bucky realizes that Barnes is in love with Marya.

#The Avengers #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Clint Barton #Bruce Banner #Natasha Romanoff #Tony Stark #Sebastian Stan