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#Honestly this was her way of giving his nephew toys without her bring up that she sees dead people
nenayaquisieras · 2 months
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Simon has always been confused on why you gift him toys. Sure, most of the gifts you gave him were some of the things he liked. Bourbon, masks, gloves, make up for him to smudge his eyes with, some daggers and knives. Things that we're useful for him, just him. But later, you gifted him a toy airplane. He makes a comment about it, saying he is not a child anymore and you were better off giving it to Johnny instead.
"No, this is specifically for you, take it."
When he gets to him room, he walks toward his trash can, opening it with the tip of his boot. He gives one more look at the toy, his mood souring before throwing it into the trash. He goes on about his day, training, signing paper work, drills. Doing anything to ignore the pain stinging memories that the toy brought back. Emotions that were buried thousands of feet deep it could reach hell itself. Later, he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the cylinder shape that's calling for him in his peripheral.
Fuck.
He pulls the covers off vigorously and stomps over to the trash can. He is standing over it like he's trying to intimidate it, as if it was an enemy he's trying to get rid of in battle. To anyone else, the scene would look comical.
He sighs to himself and reaches down to take out the toy he so cruelly threw away. He sets it on his desk and quickly walks toward his bed, facing away from his desk.
The next day, he wakes up feeling different. He swears he sees his room more vibrant, more lively. That energy follows him through out the day, having his other teammates notice his rather bright mood.
You catch him in the hallway. Pulling him aside to ask him about the paper work you left at his desk this morning. Of course, he notices the way you smile brightly, more so than usual. But he notices that you're not looking at him. More like looking at something next to him.
"What's got you so cheery?"
You turn to look up at him, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"I just..." You take a quick glance at the spot next to him, before bringing your eyes back upon his.
"I just hope you liked your gift." The same bright smile appearing on your face.
He stares at you, examining your words. Your expression.
You think you see his eyes crinkle a bit.
"Yea,"
"I liked it."
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eclipsedpascal · 3 years
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Lavender Bruises
Older!Duncan x Female reader
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A meeting with you and your father’s company’s buyers, leads to the shocking realisation that you had unknowingly slept with it’s new owner, Duncan Shepherd, just the night before. You needed to hide this sinful secret from your father, which left you stuck between wanting to make him proud and the unsatisfied craving you couldn’t ignore for Duncan to claim you as his personal toy. But you could manage both. Right?
Warnings: mentions of work (ew), alcohol, one night stands, large age gap, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, public sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), intercourse, spit kink, slapping, spanking, hickeys, bruising, degrading/teasing, mouth fucking with fingers? is that a thing?, hair pulling and a ring kink ig:)
Notes: I've been writing this for fkn MONTHS now bcs I kept loosing inspiration, so this is actually the first thing I ever properly wrote! it's kinda complicated ig? idk like the parts in bold are a time skip to the night before and the fic goes in-between the meeting the reader is at and the previous night, meaning there’s two separate smut scenes so!!! but yeah i'm a whore lmao. Also ik hickeys don’t show up the same on certain skin tones and i’m sorry for that. i tried my best to be as inclusive as possible nd didn’t mention anything to do with the skin tone. Also!! if you're interested, I was listening to Cherry lips by garbage most the time I was writing this nd I feel like it fits it pretty well😌
Word count: 8.4k
●●●●●●●●
Going over the logistics of a content deal with the conglomerate that had recently bought your fathers newspaper wasn't the most preferable way for you to spend your lunch, but unfortunately it was necessary.
You know how these “lunches” go; business meetings disguised as casual discussions. They’re exactly the same if taken place in a conference room. Disagreeing and having to come to compromises you’d rather not, with the only differences being there's more chatter and cluttered noise of dinnerware coming from the restaurant around you.
You much preferred being in the office for these kind of things, but it was at the request of the new owners that you meet here, meaning you didn’t really have choice.
As you arrived at the restaurant you saw your father inside, waiting for your arrival just past the main entrances oversized, glass doors. You were almost 10 minutes late now and you knew he would be pissed. Honestly, you couldn't blame him.
Having to rush through a traffic riddled DC to get home at 10 in the morning because you had spent the previous night in a strangers hotel bed wasn't your proudest moment. Was it worth it? Yes, but it didn’t exactly leave you with much time to prepare for the lunch only two hours later.
You payed the driver and stepped out of the cab onto the drowning, wet sidewalk, desperately trying to shield yourself from the relentless rain that had been pouring down on the city all morning.
Looking up at the grand building on front of you, you could tell the place was going to be expensive. The entrances steps were 12ft wide and made of a pearly white marble that was now soaked with cascading rain water, making them even harder for you to run up in your heels as you tried escape the cold.
“Y/N, where have you been? You're 10 minutes late and these people don't like to be kept waiting." The people your father was referring to? the owners of Gardner Analytics. they had bought what seemed like hundreds of press company's over the past few years, especially those in the DC area. Their most recent purchase being the Washington herald, of which your father was the Editor-in-chief. You had been working there for a few months as your fathers assistant and helping out at these meetings had become routine.
“I'm so so sorry, my alarm didn't wake me and I-“
"It's fine" He interrupted "It's fine, just please tell me you have the documents I asked you to bring?" You could tell he was stressed out from the way his voice was wavering and how often he was stumbling over his words, so instead of trying to explain yourself any further you stayed quiet and did your best to take in as much of the information he was relaying onto you as you possibly could.
As he led you through the dinning room he explained to you who else was there, telling you that the others from the herald who were attending the lunch had already began talks with Gardener Analytics at the table ten minutes prior.
The closer you got to the table the more your fathers voice faltered, trying to round off the conversation so he could properly introduce himself when the time came. "Now Bill Shepherd had to cancel last minute, said it was something to do with his health unfortunately. But not to worry! I've spoken with him over the phone and he's informed me his nephew is filling in for him, okay?”
Before you even had a chance to reply he turned from you, reaching over the table to shake hands with a man you recognised as Seth Grayson; their director of communications, and an older woman who you assumed was Annette Shepherd. She and her brother Bill were the owner's of Gardner Analytics and your father had said it was important he got on their good side.
As your father greeted the others, you began retrieving the documents out of your bag, knowing they would be needed by Seth right away.
"..So sorry for the delay Mr Shepherd, you know how DC traffic can be" Your father chuckled slightly as he shook the man’s hand, making some light small talk. Mr Shepherd? that must be bill’s nephew, you thought.
You felt even more unprepared now; you didn’t even know the man’s name.
"This is my daughter and assistant, Y/N" Upon hearing your father introduce you to the mystery Shepherd, you slotted the documents under one arm and reached out to shake his hand with your other.
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shepherd" But as you shifted your gaze up to his own, you realised that there was no need for introductions.
He smiled gently, a kind of smug delight obvious in his eyes as he looked you up and down, taking you all in. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/L/N"
He released your hand from his grasp, moving to clasp his own behind his back. “But please, call me Duncan.”
Duncan fucking Shepherd. how could you be so oblivious? The two of you had spent hours together last night. How hadn't you figured out who he was? As panic ripped through you like a wildfire, you wondered if Duncan was feeling the same way; but from the look on his face, he was enjoying this.
●●●●●●●●
11:34pm previous night
It was getting pretty late now, and meeting someone who could fuck the stress out of you was becoming less and less likely by the minute. so deciding to finish your drink and leave, you took in the room one last time; making sure you hadn’t missed anyone interesting.
The fluorescent red and blue lighting of the expensive hotel bar was just bright enough for you to spot an older man you hadn’t noticed before. He must have been at least 40. He was sat in a booth with five or six others, all drinking, laughing and joking, yet he was staring at you.
Taking the seat next to you, he called out to the bartender. “Bourbon. Neat.”
You'd been waiting for him to come over ever since you saw him. It had been 20 minutes or so of quick glances and smiles to each other before the group of men he had been with dissipated. You had heard one of the men he was with refer to him as ‘Duncan’ when he had said his goodbyes, but other than that all you could assume about the man was that he was rich; judging by the all black LV suit he was wearing.
"Can I buy you a drink?” Turning to face at him when you heard him speak, you were practically stupefied by how attractive he was. His hair was full of shiny grey streaks that aged him. His stubble complimented his cheekbones perfectly and the speckles of grey throughout it helped bring out the brightness of his piercing blue eyes. His lips were full, and you couldn't help but notice how soft they looked.
“Vodka and coke” You smiled, trying your best to be confidant, but they way he was looking at you was giving you butterfly's you couldn’t swat away.
“I.D?” The bartender asked. You grabbed it out of your purse, proving your age to the bartender before watching him walk away to make your drink.
There was a brief silence before the man spoke again. “I hope my staring didn’t bother you, I just couldn’t take my eyes off you.” His flattery almost made you blush, but he wasn’t going to get you with a line that bad.
“Didn’t bother me at all, though i’m sure your friends there must have been envious” You chose to ignore his cheesy line, knowing that as much as you wanted him to take you there and then, you would much prefer making him work for it.
He chuckled slightly, knowing the game you had chosen to play. he looked away from you and down into his glass before taking a swig of the golden-brown liquor that occupied it. “Well I’m known to be quite a busy man, so I’m sure they understood.” He turned to face you slightly, waiting for some kind of reaction from you.
“Busy enough of a man to be drinking on a Tuesday night?” You questioned him teasingly, Ignoring that you yourself had the most important meeting of your young career in just over twelve hours.
“Is that really such a surprise? Most times being so busy is the main reason for drinking” He joked with you as he flirted, making it hard for you to keep eye contact without going red at the thought of such a beautiful man seeking your attention.
Duncan could see how nervous you were under the confident demeanour you had put on, I mean you were practically screaming it out to him at this point. The way you were fidgeting with the chain of your silver earring as you leaned against the bar and the fact you couldn’t even look at him for longer than 3 seconds without blushing was evidence enough for him.
“Well, that’s true.” You giggled a little as you spoke in your anxious state.
Taking a hold of your drink, you wrapped your lips around the paper straw and moved your gaze over to the bartender who was now serving someone a few seats down, attempting to distract and ground yourself from the situation at hand.
You were gripped back into reality quickly when you heard him speak again.
“There’s no need to be so nervous, I’m not going to eat you.” You found his use of the phrase quite ironic, being that’s exactly how it seemed. His eyes were piercing into you in an almost questioning manner, but when he gazed over your body, taking in your satin, black slip dress covered curves, the swipe of his tongue against his plump bottom lip gave you a very different impression; an impression he wanted to devour you. It was as if he thought you were that sweet snack he had been craving all week.
“No? That's a shame” You faked a frown, pouting as you moved to rest your chin on your hand.
“Well I think we should at least be aware of each others names before making such wild propositions, don’t you…?” His smirk never seemed to leave his face as he spoke.
He was good at this game, better than you at least. Of course It was obvious he was going to have had more experience with his age and all, but the way he was charming you so easily with just plain old conversation and confidence was getting harder and harder to match.
“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” You batted your eyelashes at him a little, for some reason feeling smaller upon revealing your name to him. You felt as if you had lost the upper hand in the conversation suddenly.
“Hm, Y/N. That’s beautiful.” You rolled your eyes. Of course it is. Thats what they all say. You thought.
“Aren't you going to ask mine?” His ego now showing, you decided to make a bolder move.
“You rather fancy yourself, don’t you, Duncan?”
He finished his drink and moved closer to you. “Oh, so you already know my name?”
He was close enough to you now that you could make out the many beauty marks which decorated his cheekbones and hear the rasp of his voice even better than before. It was thick as honey and just as sweet too.
“I heard your friend call you it.” You quickly replied.
He scoffed a little, finding amusement in what he was about to say. He brought his face down closer to yours and began to run his fingers through your hair. “Hm, well he’s an old friend sweetheart. Most people would call me Mr Shepherd.”
You felt yourself grow hot, Duncans words casting a haze of complete lust over your mind.
You did your best to stay confidant, doing everything you could to ensure you didn't loose this game the two of you were playing. “Really? Is that what you like? Mr Shepherd.”
Your faces were so close to each others now that you could smell the bourbon on his breath when he let out a loud chuckle. His pearly whites showing as he did so. You even felt him graze his stubble against your cheek.
“Mhmm.” He ran his finger over your lips as he spoke slowly. "So tell me, what is it that does it for you Y/N? Hm? I mean a girl your age doesn’t decide to stare at a man like me all night just for the hell of it. So what is it? The power? The money? Or is it the age gap so big I could be your father?”
You squeeze your legs together as his sentence finishes, letting out a hushed whimper. Of course you were attracted to older men, that was obvious, but hearing him say it out loud in public whilst being so close to you turned you on even more than you thought previously possible.
He chuckled a little, “So it’s the age then, is it sweetheart? The idea of having a man more.. experienced pleasure you, instead of a man who would leave you to fend for yourself after finishing in less than five minutes. You want someone who can make you cum so hard you’d be begging him to make it stop, don’t you?” Every move Duncan made, every word he spoke was calculated, and it was all in pursuit of teasing you just because he knew he could.
You made a mental note of his nickname for you as you looked up at him. You felt his fingers run across your cheek and then push some stray hairs back behind your ear as you desperately tried to think of something smart to say, anything to say; but he had won. He knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. You didn’t even care anymore. You were more than ready to give what little of a resolve you still had up to him.
He whispered to you as he moved his spare hand up the small of your back. “Now little one, I have the presidential suite of this hotel under my name tonight. So what do you say we go on up? Since now we're just so well aquatinted."
●●●●●●●●
Having to take part in a meeting with your father and the man double your age that you had fucked for hours the night before was NOT what you had planned for today.
“Mr Shepherd, I apologise that I didn’t make it here on time. I had a pretty hectic morning.” You did your best to keep your chill in your now shocked state, but with everyone watching the two of you it wasn’t easy.
“No don’t worry, I know how DC traffic can be, especially in this weather. As long as you're here now.” A wide smile was planted on his face as he spoke. The same as last night. He never broke eye contact with you, and you found yourself wondering how he could do it so easily.
“Please, sit.” He gestured you over to take a seat as he pulled out the chair next to his own. You thanked him politely and sat down, your mind racing and spiralling out of control at the thought of your father discovering the sinful deeds you and his new boss had taken part in just hours prior.
You felt him tuck you into the table before sitting down next to you. You could hear the voices of the restaurant that surrounded you and the others at the table coming at you. Every noise was muffled, as if your head was suddenly underwater.
“Y/N?” You were quickly brought back to reality when you heard Seth question you.
“From my understating you have the merger documents in your belonging, yes?” He looked at your father for reassurance this was definitely case as he spoke. So with everyone at the table’s eyes on you, you slid the documents over to him.
“Yes! And uhm the specifications for the more politically based content changes are detailed on page 25. I was told that was of high interest today?” You got yourself back on track, trying to stay as professional as possible whilst ignoring Duncan and the predicament you had found yourself in.
“We were briefly discussing the more major changes before you arrived Mr Y/L/N, but I believe you’ve already been made aware of most them?” Duncan addressed your father, kicking the meeting off. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were listening to the conversation, you really were! It was just that you were so wrapped up in Duncan’s voice you couldn’t actually understand what the fuck they were all talking about.
Seeing him so invested in the crucial conversation he was having with your father and the many other associates at the table was just doing something to you.
Observing the way his hands were moving when he spoke, you noticed how he would often clasp them together when he was explaining things, and how he would tilt his head slightly as he listened. His bronzed curls were combed to perfection, resting delicately on the right side of his face and when he licked his bottom lip, it sent a shiver down through your spine all the way to your cunt. You were entirely captivated by him.
Hearing your Father ask for your opinion on the subject being discussed, you shook off the spell Duncan’s attractiveness had casted onto you and responded, giving your perspective on the subject.
Duncan relaxed into his seat a little more as he watched you talking. He knew you had been staring at him, but it was cute, he thought. Almost endearing seeing you get so flustered at just the sight of him. He had seen you squirming around in your seat whilst you watched him and decided the accidental teasing wasn’t enough; he wanted to toy with you more. As much as he possibly could.
“You know, if you’re trying hide what’s happened between us then you might consider making your staring a little less obvious, sweetheart.” He was speaking quietly enough for nobody else to hear and not looking in your direction, pretending to still partake in the tables back-and-forth. Still the fear of your father, who was sat just across the table, overhearing Duncans remarks was petrifying.
You knew you couldn’t let your craving for him and the confusion from not knowing who he was last night effect the meeting, but there he was with that nickname again, stirring your desire even further.
“How are you even here?” You let your frustrations out onto him as you talked back, his cocky attitude getting to you too easily with the stress you were under. “I’m trying so hard not to ruin today and this situation isn’t helping! They’ll fire me if I mess this up and I’ll be fucked! Which surprisingly, I’d prefer not to be!” Your whispering was pretty aggressive, but could you really blame yourself?! This kind of coincidence was rare, so you had every right to be mad at the universe for letting it occur on today of all days.
His ego not faltering for even a second, he chuckled. “Oh you don’t wanna get fucked? Funny, because I remember you saying the exact opposite last night.”
He grazed his hand across your inner thigh, massaging it gently before diving underneath the little black pencil skirt you were wearing to grip onto your flushed skin.
You scoffed at his words and looked up at him, shocked at how bold he was being and expecting some kind of response from him, but he didn’t even look your way. You assumed this was so no attention was brought to the two of you and so you followed his lead, turning away from him just as fast as you had looked.
With the heat of your cunt having grown far too intense to bear, any friction that wasn’t your own thighs pressing up against each other was to be welcomed. So you decided not to stop him. In fact you did the exact opposite, spreading your thighs wider for him, not having the self control or restraint to keep yourself from him any longer.
His hand moved closer to where you needed him most, diving under the crotch of your underwear to swipe his fingers over your slick folds and immediately begin rubbing circles onto your neglected clit.
You stifled a moan, leaning onto the table on front of you to keep yourself steady as he touched you. Finally, he moved his gaze to rest on you, watching you as you struggled to stay silent. He whispered once more, “Always so wet for me, aren't you princess?”
●●●●●●●●
As soon as you entered the suite, Duncan gripped onto your waist, pushing you up against the door and cradling your cheek with his spare hand before smashing his lips into yours.
His tongue slipped past your lips, dancing with yours whilst he moved his hands all over your body, clutching onto your breasts and then moving them down to explore the rest of you.
He lifted your dress up just enough so he could grip your ass. Pulling you closer to him and making you feel his bulge against your hips, you were too short in comparison to him to feel him where you wanted to most.
He spoke to you in kisses, telling you of how ravenous he was for you and that he was going to savour every moment. He moved his lips down, trailing open mouthed kisses from your neck to your collarbones and to the top of your breasts.
“This fucking dress” He took ahold of the bottom of your dress, pulling it up above your head with urgency as you lifted your arms to better help him strip you. Throwing the dress down onto the floor and hearing it land somewhere behind him, he admired your body and it’s curves.
“The perfect wrapping for such an enticing present.” He finished his sentence. Immediately grabbing at your breasts, sucking and kissing them.
You couldn’t speak, too enthralled with the technique of his tongue swirling around your nipple to do anything but moan in response to him.
You threw your head back against the door, staring up that the beautifully patterned ceiling in pure ecstasy. You felt him drag a callused hand down to the waistband of your Lacy white panties, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach as he traced his fingers over it. His finger tips running across the little white bow that centred the waistband.
He collapsed down to his knees, yanking the delicate lingerie as he fell, leaving it to puddle around your ankles.
He teased your heat, moving from kissing the skin of your thighs to your folds, but not yet reaching the lengths you wanted him to, only adding fuel to the fire in between your legs.
“Please Duncan-” you begged him, desperately needing some kind of release from the binds of lust he had managed to wrap you in over the past 45 minutes.
“Ah ah, don't you remember? You don’t get to call me that.” He spoke.
“I’m sorry, Mr Shepherd.” You corrected yourself, recalling the conversation you had with him prior to coming upstairs.
“Mhmm, now as magnificent as that name sounds coming from you, I know that there’s something else you’d rather call me.” He hummed in disapproval, calmly redirecting your choice of name for him and reassuringly pressing his lips onto your clit.
You let out a stuttered gasp, you did want to call him that, but now you felt nervous due to the build up he had created.
“Com’n, sweetheart. Do you think I don't know why you’re here in the first place? Why else would you be sat all alone in the bar of a hotel you weren’t even staying at? You’re just another slut with daddy issues, sneaking down to an expensive hotel to scavenge for any man good enough to fuck you into submission. Isn’t that right?”
Mildly insulted at his all too accurate observation of you, but enjoying the effect his degrading words have on you none the less, you gave him what he wanted. “Mm yes daddy!” You whimpered out, admitting your ploy to him.
A low rumble emitted from his chest, your words setting off some kind of animal inside him. He dove his face down into your pussy, starting by sucking on your clit gently, flicking his tongue over it and applying more and more pressure as you writhed above him.
His mouth was closed around you now, his grey, speckled stubble scratching your already inflamed skin. You were taken aback by his skills, intwining your fingers through the curls in his hair and tugging on them with every wave of pleasure that hit you.
He snaked his large hand around your thigh, lifting it up to rest on his shoulder while he ate you out. Enjoying the new angle he was utilising, he hummed, sending vibrations through your nerves up to the pit of your stomach, bringing you closer to your climax.
“Mmh.. fuck daddy, i’m gonna cum!” He didn’t let off, his tongue perhaps fucking into you even faster since you told him how close you were. You locked stares as your orgasm took over your body, your lips forming an o as you screwed your eyebrows together in rapture.
He came back up, letting you taste yourself and he placed his lips on yours again. You eased into the kiss, a relaxed haze having taken over your body in your post-orgasm state. Feeling a slight breeze flow up the side of your form, you realised that Duncan still had all his clothes on whilst you had none. Deciding you needed to change this as soon as possible, you began unbuttoning his suit’s matching black blazer and shirt, rushing to feel his skin on yours.
He helped you, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as you began to unthread his leather belt from the loops of his trousers. “You’re so impatient, little one.” He spoke.
“I think I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” You smirked, dropping the belt at his feet.
As soon as his shirt hit the floor you reached up, gliding your hands across the expanse of his bear chest, taking notice of how small your hands appeared in comparison to him. He watched you, relishing in the glimmer of entrancement that shone through your eyes as you ingested him.
He lifted you, his strong arms carrying you bridal style towards the king sized bed and throwing you down onto its crisp, satin sheets. Grabbing your ankles, he dragged you down the bed towards him and finished taking his pants off. His cock sprung free from the confines of his boxers, smacking against his stomach.
He clambered onto the bed, resting on his knees as he jerked himself in his hand, reluctantly groaning out at the first contact his neglected cock had received all night. His pressing cock had made it unfathomably hard not to just fuck you up against the door when he saw that sweet little way in which your face scrunched up as you came.
You were practically drooling, watching him fuck himself into his fist as his eyes scanned across your naked body. Not being able to wait any longer and wanting to finally feel his cock on your skin, you sat up slightly and reached out to touch him. But before you got the chance, he shoved you back down. leaning over you, he held your wrists down against the pillows with one hand and wrapped his other around your delicate throat.
“So greedy, baby” he stoked his thumb over the skin of your neck as he made his observation, watching you struggle underneath him.
“I just know what I want.” You toyed, your voiced coming out slightly muffled with the pressure of his large hand covering your voice box.
“Such an attitude, too.” His cock brushes over your cunt as he sways his head from side to side in disappointment and disproval. “Now sweetheart, you’re gonna stay exactly where you are and daddy’s gonna fuck you just like this, okay? So he can see that pretty little face of yours.”
You gulp at his words, anticipating the feeling of having him inside you. “Please just fuck me. Please.” You knew you sounded absolutely pathetic, but you didn’t care. Just needing him plummeting in and out of you as soon as possible.
He chuckled at your neediness. Taking his hands back from your wrists and grasping his cock, lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing in, he let you adjust to his size.
Moaning out, you dug your nails into the bed sheets, watching his head drop down to yours as he closed his eyes in pleasure.
“Fuck, you take me so well.”
●●●●●●●●
He slipped his ringed finger into you, pushing against your spongy walls whilst you made a desperate attempt to suppress your moans. You bite down onto your nails, your elbow resting on the table as you put all your weight onto it for some kind of crutch.
He began with a slow pace, making sure you would feel every little movement he made. You heard him join into the conversation once again, mentioning something about an article he had seen from the Herald last month which had impressed him. You weren't even sure. You couldn't think for the pulsing beat of your own heart that filled your ears.
“You all right there, Y/N?” Your heavy breathing must have been a dead give away for something being up, being your father was now questioning you.
You felt Duncan stop his movements momentarily, joining the rest of the table in their standstill, staring at you as they awaited a reply, but his little act of sincerity didn't last too long.
“Yeah, uhm-“ you felt him slide a 2nd figure in, making you fake a cough as to stop the cry desperately trying to escape your throat from doing so.
“Yeah, I’m uh, just thirsty.” Hoping this would ward off the worried looks you were receiving, you were shocked when you heard Duncan chime in. “Oh don’t worry, we can get you something.”
He called the waiter over, asking him for a pitcher of lemonade and thanking him as he walked away, back towards the kitchen. You would have preferred some water, you thought, but you were far too focused on what was going on underneath the table to say anything.
“Now, where were we?” Seth began talking once more, bringing the attention back to where it should be. But Duncan? No. His attention stayed on you. Even more focused on fucking his fingers into than before, he sped up and began going even deeper now, curling them upwards until you were twitching.
You looked up at him pleadingly. You were getting too close to cumming for your own liking, so you grabbed onto his thigh and dug your nails into his expensive black dress pants, warning him. He shot you a devious grin, scissoring his fingers inside you and pressing his thumb down to rub sweet circles on your hooded clit, letting you know he didn’t intend on stopping.
He looked behind you suddenly. Following his gaze, you snapped your head to the side, trying to get a good look at what had grabbed his attention so abruptly.
It was the waiter. He had arrived with the pitcher of lemonade in hand and yet Duncan was still plummeting his hand into your pussy with such a speed you began to wonder if someone had actually noticed what was truly going on. I mean the waiter must know.
At this point you had let far too many questionable gasps leave your mouth, your breathing had become even more erratic as you grew closer to your orgasm. He knew you were about to break before he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you, wiping the juices that coated them back and front onto your skirt so he could pick up the glass on front of you, leaving you unsatisfied.
You scrambled to collect your thoughts and breath as he picked up the pitcher, pouring the ice cooled lemonade into your glass.
“Here.” He spoke. You lifted a shaky hand up to take the glass from him when the grasp he had on it ‘slipped’, spilling the contents of it the onto your lap.
“Oh!’ You jumped up, making the sweet, sticky liquid run off your skirt to your thighs, dripping down your legs and eventually onto the floor. The now empty glass falling with it.
“I am so sorry, Miss Y/L/N.” He picked up the glass, sitting it on the table before joining you in standing. Now he was stood, you could clearly see the dark tint of his cock straining against the constrictive fabric that was his dress pants. It sent a pulse of lust through your cunt.
“Duncan!” Hearing Annette voice her annoyance at her son for being so clumsy almost made you laugh. It was quite amusing seeing his mother reprimand him, being he was a grown man in his 40s.
“It’s okay, don’t worry. I-I’ll just go clean myself up in the bathroom. I don’t want to distract the meeting anymore than I already have.” You made eye contact with your father as he rubbed his temples.
He was annoyed at the scene you and Duncan had caused. You gave him an apologetic look, feeling bad for stressing him out even more than you already had with being late, but knowing it was technically Duncan’s fault and not yours.
“Please, let me help you clean up.” Duncan pushed his chair in, quickly grabbing some napkins off the table and resting his hand on your back to guide you towards the nearest bathroom, walking as fast as your weak legs would let him.
His hand stayed delicately placed on the small of your back, until you were out of the tables sight, at which point he took hold of your arm, clutching it like a vice as he dragged you through the bathroom door.
He locked the door behind him in preparation for what was to come. He needed to make sure nobody would be walking in on what he was about to do to you.
Looking back towards you, satisfied as ever now he had you alone, he waltzed on over, pinning you up against the counter with force. You could smell him on you again, same cologne from the night before. Dior, you guessed.
“You’re not very good at staying quiet, are you, Sweetheart?” He mused, hoisting you up onto the counter and forcefully cradling your face with both hands as he moved to kiss you deeply. His tongue ravenously re-familiarising itself with your mouth.
“You almost got us caught back there.” He spoke in between kisses. “Your poor, naive father, watching you. He was probably wondering why you kept squirming.” He voiced a dark giggle, moving down to suckle on your neck and push your skirt up your thighs.
“I almost got us caught? No. Y-you almost got us caught when you decided putting a second f-FUCK, finger into me whilst I was talking to him was a good idea!” You choked out, doing your best to fight through the pleasure of his lips finally grazing your skin as you watched him pull your panties down and slot them into his pants pocket.
“Awh poor baby. Did you not want your daddy knowing that you’re a greedy little slut for his new boss? Hm?” He admired the blossoming lavender and cherry bruises now forming on your neck as he teased, marvelling at the idea they could be noticed by your father once you finished.
He quickly opened his fly, pulling his dress pants and boxers down just enough that he could pump his cock in his hand. Gripping onto your hips for purchase, his fingers dug into you so viciously you could feel the marks he had left the night before. You knew after this, there would surely be more.
He thrust himself into you, earning a loud wail to fall from your lips. You arched your spine at the feeling of him pounding into you, making your head fall back against the mirror behind you. His hand shot up to the it as he gathered more speed, his pace growing far faster than you had anticipated.
“Was it too much for you? Taking my fingers in your cunt whilst you were trying oh so hard to concentrate? I almost made you cum on front of everyone.” You moaned out at his grotesque words, pulling your head up to rest your forehead on his shoulder.
“Answer me.” He pulled your chin up back to look at him, still pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping against one another’s felt even louder in the small, tiled bathroom.
“Yes daddy! It was too much for me - AHH!!” You let yourself go limp against the mirror, giving yourself up to him entirely and wanting nothing more than for him to use you like his personal rag doll.
●●●●●●●●
Your throat was growing hoarser with every squeal you made. Duncan had been fucking you ruthlessly for what felt like hours now, constantly changing his pace from calm to aggressive and back again. His lips were mouthing over your peaked nipples, tongue slathering trails of saliva across your skin and teeth scrapping over dozens of tiny goosebumps.
“Such a filthy, fucking whore for me.” Squeezing down on your neck with one hand he uses his other to slap you. His ringed hand coming down across your fleshy cheek with a loud crack.
You gasped out, shocked at this move and feeling reinvigorated by the suddenness of it. His abuse only made you more attracted to him, causing your cunt to puddle its juices around his cock.
Slowing his thrusts down to an almost complete halt, he grabbed your jaw, yanking your mouth open just enough that when he dripped his spit down you could catch it. You moaned at the filth of his actions, tasting the bourbon he had drank earlier at the bar.
Following the thick thread of salvia that connected the two of you to each other, he brought his face back down to yours, bringing your sloppy lips together. Never giving you the chance to close your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.
Your lips part, foreheads leaning on each other with eyes locked as you scream and moan at his brutal fucking. “Such a good girl.” He praised you.
“Thank you daddy!!” You cry out, feeling tears brimming in your eyes at the deepness of his cock. You knew he was going to be good when he first pushed you up again that door, but this was insane. You had never felt his turned on before. Loving being completely at his mercy, but receiving none.
He pulled out suddenly, wrapping his hands around your stomach and flipping you over to your front. You got the just of what he wanted and clambered onto your hands and knees for him. He pushed his cock back into your folds, hips ricocheting off your ass immediately.
He pulled at your hair, lifting you up to his chest as he gruffed and groaned. He was much larger than you, making it easy for him to pull your head back enough that he could see the expression on your lust enthralled face.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” He demands, spanking your ass cheek and twisting your hair around in his hand. His other hand moved to your gaping mouth, pushing two fingers inside so you taste the metallic bite of his silver band.
You gag as he fucks your mouth, mumbling around his fingers in a desperate attempt at begging him to allow you to cum. You were getting so close now. You guys had been going for so long and your impending release wasn’t going to wait much longer.
“Fuckk, don’t worry sweetheart. Daddy’s close too.” He took his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your clit and swiping at it furiously. You could feel your own spit on his fingers as the coil in your stomach tightened.
“Ohh Daddy’s gonna come so deep inside you, little one.. would you like that?” His breathes were uneven. Thrusts uncontrolled and sloppy.
“Yes!! Fuck, fuck, FUCK Daddy I’m cumming!!” Your cunt pulsated around his shaft, squeezing his own orgasm out of him even sooner than he expected as you screamed. You could taste the saltiness of your own tears, them having run down your cheekbones and into your agape mouth.
His cum flooded your walls, filling you up with his hips pressed against yours as he enveloped you in an embrace from behind. He uttered out a shudder against your temple, his breathe feeling hot and damp on your skin.
He set you back down on the bed and pulled his softening shaft out of you, moving his large hands back to your hips as your own gave out and fell underneath you, pressing your face into the sheets. You eventually rolled over to lay on your back, wanting to let your aftershocks roll through your quivering limbs more comfortably.
He fell down onto the duvet next to you, propping himself up on his side slightly and pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss on your swollen lips. “You alright? I didn't hurt too bad now, did I?” He stroked your face, words alluring as ever now your resting bare bodies were tangled up together in a complete stand still.
“Nothing that I didn't enjoy, no.” You joked, lightly drawing intricate shapes on his arm with your fingertips, still harnessing the blemishing sting his ring had left under your cheekbone. “I’d say we're pretty well aquatinted now; wouldn’t you, Daddy?”
●●●●●●●
You could feel cool drips of perspiration slipping down your heated skin from your forehead to your collar bones and all you could do was hope they hadn't taken any of the concealer you had applied earlier this morning with them. You had needed to cover the bruise Duncan’s ring had so easily left on your cheek the night before, since you really didn't want your father or anyone else from work seeing it.
Duncan’s cock was curving in all the right places as he hammered into you. His pace and brutality showing you stars. He seemed even more confident than he did yesterday. Having had experience with you, he knew that you could take his most heinous savagery with delight and didn’t hold off one bit.
His huffs and groans were tantalising, growing louder and more uncontrolled as he fucked you into oblivion. His hand squeaked as it fell down the steamed mirror he leant on, leaving the glass behind you and finding its way to your jaw. He brought your face to his own and kissed you, loudly moaning into your open mouth.
You giggled through your mewls. “Mmm.. I thought I was the loud one, daddy.” You were amused that he had been teasing you so adamantly about the volume of your pleasure, when he was now the one making all the noise.
He paused, quirking an eyebrow at you before slamming his hips into you with a thrust so strong it made you practically scream out. “Oh, my apologises, sweetheart.” He smirked as he picked up his pace once more.
You wrapped your hands in his perfectly styled hair. You no longer cared who knew what was really happening in here, the thought didn’t even cross your mind. All you cared for was chasing your high. You rutted your hips on his and took his length entirely, feeling dangerously close to cumming.
“Fuckkk baby, daddy’s gonna cum okay?. Cum with me princess. Fall apart on my cock.” His unfocused thrusts had you coming undone in seconds. You held onto him tight, digging your nails into his shoulders and pulling at his curls as you cried out in ecstasy.
He shot his seed into you, feeling all his pent up frustrations from earlier at the table leave him as he pushed himself deep into your abused cunt. He didn’t even attempt to stifle his moans, too invested in finally receiving his release to realise just how loud he was being.
He rested his forehead on yours, your sweaty skin pressed against each other as you both attempted to catch your breathes after such a quick, ruthless fuck. You started laughing, finding it utterly ridiculous that you had spent the majority of a meeting you had been terrified for, getting fucked by your new boss (and the man you had fucked the night before) in a restaurant bathroom.
He joined in laughing, clearly finding humour within this strange situation too. Interrupting your laugh, he pushed his lips into yours, kissing you as if your lips were some kind of prize. You felt his cock slip from your cunt, his seed immediately spilling from it as you were left with a sudden, empty sensation.
He made quick work of zipping his pants back up and fastening his belt. You tugged your skirt back down to your thighs, being reminded of how Duncan had snatched your panties and stashed them in his pants pocket. You guessed you wouldn’t be getting them back anytime soon, which you were okay with, you just hoped nobody saw his remnants leaving you left the bathroom.
You flattened out your skirt and felt the wet sticky lemonade that still coated it. You had completely forgotten to clean it. “Fuck, my skirt's still sticky! Why would you order lemonade?” You whined; still mad he hadn’t just ordered some water.
Awaiting a reply, you turned to check your make up in the mirror. Luckily it was pretty light today, so it still looked good other than the bruise on your cheek now being slightly more obvious than before. What really concerned you was your neck. It was covered in every shade of purple and red you were aware existed. If your father and coworkers didn’t know what was going on from how weird you were being at the table before, or how long it had taken the two of you to finish in the bathroom, or the noises that were emitting from it, they would definitely know after seeing all the claims he had left on your skin.
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think that spilt water would have been a good enough excuse to get you all alone in here.” He chuckled to himself, leaning over to rest his chin on your head and wrapping his arms around your waist as he joked over his mischievousness.
“But we should probably head back out there. I’m sure your father’s going to apprentice the beautiful mosaic I’ve painted across your neck” he kissed the bruises he spoke of as he watched you through the mirror.
You scoffed at him, gifting yourself one last look before completely giving up on finding a way you could make your face and neck appear more presentable for heading back to the table.
Duncan opened the bathroom door, nodding his head towards the hallway and waiting for you to hurry up and join him.
The two of you started walking back, your legs struggling to take your weight with how weak they had become. Your heels clicked along the floor, making you far more aware of how soon you would be sitting back down with everyone from work. Like a clock counting down to all the judgmental stares you would surly be receiving.
You kept your eyes trained on the floor as you took your seat at the table. Seths voice trailed off upon seeing the two of you sit down, leaving you both in the middle of an uncomfortable silence that felt near suffocating.
“What took so long!” You could hear the anger and perhaps embarrassment in Annettes voice as she whispered to Duncan. She looked towards you, glaring and scowling before retiring her vision back to him. She was probably hoping that what she assumed to have occurred hadn’t, but from the marks clearly decorating your neck, she would have known it to be true.
“Oh, we just couldn’t get the lemonade out of her skirt.” He tut as he spoke to his mother, smiling and playing off any obvious suspicions. “I’m sorry, really.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, dripping with a sincerity you knew to be false.
“So what was it we were discussing?” he speaks louder now, addressing the rest of the table.
“Uhh actually, I think we have a deal.” Seth replied, looking over at him and then the rest of the table. You heard your father mutter something in agreement, but it was meek. Quiet. He must have felt the awkward tension too. It was ripe in the air, like a shiver you couldn’t shake off. You didn't even want to look at him, knowing If anyone there felt most uncomfortable, it was him.
Saying their goodbyes and finishing up with any last details, everyone stood to shake hands and bid their farewells. You felt your fathers scowl as he came and stood beside you, but you didn't dare look at him. You were too ashamed to face him whilst still with your coworkers.
Duncan walked over to your father, looking more satisfied than ever with his eyes still focused on you as he thanked him for meeting and shook his hand firmly.
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr Y/L/N.” He let go of your fathers hand only to take a hold of yours. He grasped it delicately, a touch more gentle than he had ever shown you previously. Assuming he was trying you shake it, you were more than surprised when he raised it to his lips, kissing your rosey knuckles; still red from the tight grip you had, had on his hair earlier.
“I look forward to working with you in the future, Y/N.” He graced you with once last signature smirk as he walked away, leaving you with your father who was waiting for an explanation and apology for your disgusting and foolish behaviour.
Maybe it hadn’t been the worst way to spend lunch.
Tags: @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @ntxoza @angelicmichael @jimmason @michaellangdonstanaccount @blakescoven @7-wonders @ghostangels @fernfiction @brattylovee @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @instincts-baby
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bts-reveries · 3 years
Text
expect the unexpected | 24
TW: Mentions of death & miscarriage
italicize = flashbacks
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“What happened?” Rina asks, running to Jin who’s pacing back and forth in the waiting room. Sian and Jungkook were running behind her. 
“I don’t know, Minseok found her unconscious in our room,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.
“Is the baby okay?” Jungkook asks him, in a low voice. Rina looks at him with wide eyes.
“Baby?” She asks, turning to Jin.
“The kids don't know about it yet, but yeah. She’s pregnant. Which is why I’m freaking out right now,” Jin says, staring down the hallway where the doctor went. 
Jungkook turns to where the kids were sitting, Minseok and Soojin were just sitting on the waiting room chairs, watching videos on Jin’s phone. Haneul was resuming his nap on the chairs next to them. 
“It’s going to be okay hyung,” Jungkook says, putting a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “By the way, Yoongi hyung, Hobi hyung, and Jimin hyung will be here. They’re worried too. The others aren’t able to come but told me to let you know that they’ll be here when they can.”
“Thanks Jungkook. Hopefully the doctor comes soon and gives us good news. We may have to stay overnight.” Rina and Jungkook nod. Sian plays with his hand and looks up at Jin, wondering what was going on.
“If anything, one of us will take the kids home. They can stay over our place if they want,” Rina says, looking back at the kids. “Unless they want to go to Taehyung’s or something, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either.”
“Okay, thank you,” Jin says, turning to the kids. “We can ask them about it later.”
“Mr. Kim?” Jin hears, his heart suddenly stops, turning to the doctor that was walking up to him. 
“Yes?” Jin says, although unable to move his feet to walk towards the man. “I-is everything okay? Is my wife okay? What- what about the baby?” Jin says, speaking quickly. “She’s had a miscarriage before a-and--”
“Mr. Kim, don’t worry, everything is okay. Your wife and the baby are fine,” The doctor tells him. Jin sighs in relief, although Rina and Jungkook look at him with wide eyes. The mention of Yn having a miscarriage was never brought up before. Neither of them knew about it. “We’re going to have her stay here overnight, to make sure she gets some rest. It looks like she has been stressed the past few days, and also hasn’t been eating much, which we already know is not good for a pregnant woman. So I would suggest you stay here and take care of her. She’ll be able to go home tomorrow.”
-
“Is everything okay?” Yoongi asks, walking into the room you were in. Hobi and Jimin came right before him.
Jimin furrows his brows, putting his pointer finger to his lips. “Shh.” He points to you asleep on the bed and Yoongi puts his hand over his mouth. 
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He sees Jin asleep on a chair next to you too, he has his head laying on top of his arms, resting on your side of the bed. “What happened?” Yoongi asks the boys. Jungkook was holding Haneul in his arms. He was awake now, but he kept his head resting on his uncle’s shoulder. Rina was on the side, braiding Soojin’s hair, and Hobi brought books and toys for Minseok and Sian to keep themselves entertained with. 
“Jin hyung and noona have to stay overnight to make sure Yn gets the rest she needs,” Jimin informs him. “She has been overworking herself, stress built up, and she hasn’t been eating well either so Minseok found her unconscious in her and Jin hyung’s room. They rushed her here and that’s what the doctor told them.”
“The baby is fine though, both Yn and the baby,” Rina adds. “Jin was super worried about both of them, even mentioned a miscarriage that Yn had before.”
“Miscarriage?” Yoongi asks. He didn’t know about it either.
“Apparently she went through one before Haneul. Jin hyung said he’ll fill us in with that later,” Jungkook says. Yoongi nods.
“Okay, will the kids be staying here with them overnight? I think we should bring them home, no?” Yoongi says, looking over the kids.
“Yeah that’s what we were saying, it’s their choice who they want to come with,” Hobi says.
“So, where do you kids want to go?” Yoongi asks them, the three kids look at each other before looking up and saying all at once.
“Home.”
-
The Next Day
You and Jin stayed at the hospital overnight. You woke up at random times in the evening, your heart beating fast. 
“Are you okay?” Jin asks, pushing your hair back. “Do you need anything?”
You shake your head no. 
“W-where’s the kids?” You ask, seeing that it was just you and your husband.
“They’re at home with Taehyung, Bora, Jungkook, Rina, and Sian. Don’t worry, they’re okay.” He says, reassuring you.
“W-what about our other baby,” you say, holding onto your stomach. “I couldn’t understand the doctor well when he was talking to me before you got here. I was too tired, I- I--”
“He-- or she--’s okay,” Jin says. “The doctor says you and the baby are fine. Don’t worry.” You nod, relaxing your shoulders and laying back into your pillows. 
“I’m sorry, by the way,” Jin starts. “I didn’t mean to react that way when I found out. I was just overwhelmed at the time and you know what happened before, I was just scared. I’m sorry, it’s my fault you’re here right now, I’m sorry.”
But now you’re coming home. The doctor told you not to overwork yourself, to make sure you rest and eat regularly. This is also your fifth pregnancy and it could be risky so they reminded you to be more cautious.
“Everyone’s here,” Jin says, he’s driving up the driveway and into the garage. “Taehyung said everyone came over because they wanted to see you.”
“Oh how sweet,” you say, eager to see everyone. “Do they all know?” Jin nods.
“The boys all know, I’m not sure about the girls. Other than Sarang and Rina.”
“Aw,” you pout. “I wish we could’ve announced it to them in a more special way..” A tear started to fall from your eye and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand. 
“It’s okay,” Jin says, parking the car. “I don’t think the kids know yet, we could still do it for them. Our kids and all of our nephews and nieces. I’m sure they’ll all be excited.”
-
“Mommy’s home!” Soojin yells, running up to you. 
“Hi princess,” you say, picking her up. “How are you?”
“Umm, the real question is, how are you,” Sohyun says, walking up to you. “Come here,” she says, pulling you into a hug. “I got so sad when I heard you were at the hospital. What happened? Yoongi didn’t tell me much.”
“I’ll explain everything, but let’s get the kids in another room.”
-
“So you are pregnant!” Byul says, putting her hands over her mouth. Jin had all the kids go into your room. He played a movie for them and they’re all sitting on the bed calmly watching. He made sure the older kids kept watch of the younger ones. Aka Haneul and Mingyu.
“I’m so excited,” Byul says, slapping Namjoon’s leg next to her. “I’m buying her-- him-- it? Whatever-- I’m going baby shopping.”
“Wait, can you tell?” You ask surprised. “I’m not really showing yet.”
“No, well,” Byul tilts her head to the side. “No, because we’re usually in sync, like with our period, and that one time I texted in our group chat how I was dying from my cramps because I was on my period, you didn’t say ‘omg me too!’ like you usually do. And I know you two did the--” She wiggles her eyebrows at you rather than saying the actual word. “-- during your anniversary trip because what else would you two do on a getaway without your kids? Anyways, I connected the dots,” she says pointing to her head. 
“I’m sorry, she’s been watching a lot of theory videos on YouTube lately,” Namjoon says. 
“Hey, but I was right!” Byul retorted, making you laugh.
“Wait,” Jungkook says. “So let me get this straight, because I’m kind of confused.” You nod your head, telling him to continue. “You two fought about it,” he says. “About the pregnancy when hyung found out. Why? I know Jin hyung told us about it but I was still confused because he said he does want the baby, but then he was stressed out with three kids alone and told noona he only wants three kids and,” Jungkook sighs. “I couldn’t even give him any good advice because I was confused!”
“He watched TedTalks to prepare for the moment,” Rina says. “Then came home saying he didn’t know what to say.”
Jin sighs, scratching the back of his neck.
“It’s a lot,” he says.
“Well the movie the kids are watching is almost two hours long,” Yoongi says. “We got time.”
“Okay.” Jin says, about to start. “So before Haneul, we obviously only had two kids right? Well Yn and I wanted to try for our third baby and honestly, I was already so scared for that one because...” Jin was leaning over, his elbows on his legs as he sat next to you on the couch. He looked over at Namjoon before he continued. “Well, luckily we were able to get pregnant right away and we were both happy, but we had to wait before we told you all about it-- well the ones that were already with us. Umm.. I’m sorry I have to mention this,” he says, looking at Namjoon. Namjoon caught on to what Jin was trying to say and he nodded at him, letting him continue. “Well we got pregnant a month before Moonji was due. We wanted to wait until after she was born to announce to you all because we wanted to wait the three month mark before announcing to everyone that we were happily expecting. 
But then, Moonji was born a little earlier than expected. Of course we were happy for our friends, but when we found out that Eunji passed away during the birth, I was terrified.” Jin looks down at his hands. “I never told this to Yn until last night when we were alone at the hospital, but we were the next couple to have a baby after Eunji’s death and I don’t know… I was just really scared. No one wants that to happen to their significant other, I was scared something might happen like that with Yn but then we lost the baby instead.”
The two of you were with the rest of your other friends in Namjoon’s house, helping him pack up Eunji’s things. It was a sad time. Meanwhile, you were in Moonji’s nursery, feeding her with a bottle as you sat on the chair you and Jin gifted Eunji on her baby shower.
You hummed to little Moonji as she was starting to fall asleep with the bottle. You were still pregnant at this time, you were a lot more sensitive than usual and you just started crying. 
Eunji was a close friend of yours, you never expected her to be gone so soon. No one did. But the thought of her leaving right when her daughter entered the world hurt you even more. It’s something no one ever wants to happen for… well.. anyone. You were actually scared as well, you were currently pregnant and you didn’t want what happened to your friend to happen to you. You didn’t want these thoughts but yet they were there, circling around your head. 
If anything were to happen, you’d leave two of your babies behind. Even a new one that you’ll never meet. 
And of course, Jin.
You’ve watched how Namjoon is now that it’s just him and his daughter. It’s obviously a lot different. He never imagined this to happen, but it did. You can tell he’s trying his best to be happy. 
But you know it’s hard for him.
You only began to wonder if Jin is worried too. Considering if anything happened, it would be him and the three kids. 
“Are you two okay?” Namjoon asks, peeking into the room. He had a smile on his face. Quickly, you wiped the tears away.
“Yeah,” you say, your voice wavering. “We’re okay.”
-
“Uncle Taetae come home with us pwease,” Soojin says, pulling on Taehyung’s hand. You all just finished helping out Namjoon with Eunji’s things. 
“I am coming,” Taehyung says. You asked him previously if he could help out with a client. The client was looking for unique paintings to decorate her living room but couldn’t find the perfect one. Of course you recommended your artist friend, none other than Kim Taehyung himself. “Imma help mommy with work stuff, so I’ll be at your house.”
“Yay!” Soojin yells happily. 
As you five headed to the car, you started feeling a bit sick. 
“Are you feeling okay?” your husband asks you when you two got seated in front. “You don’t look so good.”
You shake your head. “My stomach is hurting,” you say. Jin’s heart skipped a beat. 
“Where? Where’s it hurting?” He asks, putting his hand on your stomach. Taehyung furrows his brows as he watches you two. 
“Lower,” you say, moving his hand down to your lower stomach. “Here.”
“Is everything okay?” Taehyung asks from the back seat. 
“Are you sure you don’t just have to go to the bathroom?” Jin asks. 
“I- I don’t know,” you say. 
“Well while we’re still here at Namjoon’s, why don’t you go to the bathroom first? I’ll come with,” Jin says. 
“Okay,” you say, stepping out of the car. 
“Where are you going!” Minseok asks, watching you and Jin walk out of the van. 
“Mommy’s not feeling well,” Jin says, running to the other side to help you. His eyes widen when he sees red. 
“Honey,” Jin says, pointing to her bottom. “There’s blood.”
“I understand why you never told us about it,” Yuna says. It was already a sad time, you two didn’t want to add more to it. Not only that, but you and Jin didn’t like to bring it up. The thought of it hurts your heart even more.
“Yeah, well I wasn’t there,” Bora says. “But I understand, I’m guessing only Taehyung was the one to know then.” She says, putting her hand on Taehyung’s hand.
“Yeah he helped with the kids when we went to the hospital. But, even so, we still wanted to try for another one. You know? Which is why we always say it’s always three, we thought it would end with three considering how hard it was to conceive Haneul. We had a lot of trouble with him,” you say. You glanced over at Sarang who was quiet this whole time. 
“It was a hard time, we were scared for the miscarriage to repeat if we were ever to get pregnant again. We worried a lot during that time. It was a confusing time, really,” Jin adds on, looking at you. “It was like… we were scared to get pregnant because of what happened previously and then we were scared that we wouldn’t be able to get pregnant again, you know?” 
“So don’t worry too much,” you say, looking at Sarang. “I know you two are working hard to try and conceive but maybe if you stop doing it as if it was a chore… it’ll come when you least expect it.” Sarang smiles softly at you. She nods.
“Expect the unexpected,” Hobi says with a small laugh. “I guess that’s what happened huh.” Jin nods.
“Now and before,” he says. “We didn’t expect Haneul to come. Right when we were about to give up, we found out we were pregnant with him.” 
“Is that why you named him Haneul?” Sohyun asks. You and Jin nod. Minseok and Soojin both have names coming from their dad whilst Haneul didn’t. Haneul instead meant sky, your special rainbow baby.
“So what about now?” Jimin asks. “What about this baby?”
You look over at Jin, waiting for his answer. I mean, you already knew. 
“So why did you react that way?” you ask Jin, the two of you unable to sleep now. This was at the hospital. It was past midnight and you couldn’t sleep anymore. 
“I was scared. Haneul was hard enough. His pregnancy, I mean, you know? I was in that constant state of fear and worry. Thinking if at the end of those nine months if it’ll just be you or if it’ll just be him. After what happened to Eunji, I realized how it can happen to anyone. I didn’t want that to happen to us. Then after we lost our baby, it hurt a lot you know? I know it hurt you more since you’re the mom and you carried that baby inside of you… but I still feel like there’s a piece of my heart that’s missing,” he answers. “I know how hurt we both were after that happened, I was scared it might happen again. It’s too good to be true. 
Not only that, but on top of things, I had a really hard week with the kids. I started to think I wasn’t good enough that I couldn’t balance my time with all three of them and work with you gone. But then I found out you were pregnant… The worries and the thoughts flooded my mind that it blocked out any happiness I would’ve felt at that moment. I didn’t want what happened to our baby to happen to this one because I knew how it would be. Even worse, I didn’t want what happened to our friend to happen to us… Not only would I lose you but our three-- four kids would be stuck with their dad who can’t even handle a week without his wife, then what would happen if that was forever?”
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
expect the unexpected
♡ part twenty-four: if anything ♡ 
pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader
a/n: okay it wasn’t as lengthy as i hoped lol
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trilliastra · 4 years
Text
[Xicheng AU. Entirely self-indulgent. I love Jiang Cheng and I want him to be happy with Lan Xichen.]
-
I.
When Lan Xichen arrives at the gates, he finds Lan Hao frowning and trying to hold a clearly distressed Jin Ling. The boy is squirming desperately in his hold, screaming and crying, and Lan Xichen sighs.
He isn’t the first child to cry because he misses home. Many, including the older disciples, have cried, had nightmares, tried to run back to their families. Gusu Lan isn’t the most welcoming Sect, their many rules leaving most feeling confined, suffocated and desperate for a way out. He did not consider the young Master Jin would be one of them, though.
The boy arrived dressed in gold, back straight and a glare on his face. He did not talk to others his age, frowned when another disciple tried to talk to him and got himself in more verbal altercations than Wei – than others ever had. And he is only seven.
The two week meeting was created to build intersect alliances, have the children meet earlier would only make their future connections stronger, establish their trust in each other before they began training and studying together as teenagers, holding the future of the Cultivation world on their backs.
Honestly, Lan Xichen did not even think Jin Ling would join – his status as future Sect Leader and nephew of the infamous Sandu Sengshou weighting heavily on his young shoulders.
“What happened?”
Lan Hao bows awkwardly as he still tries to hold the boy in his arms and answers, “he tried to run. Young Master Jin made it as far as Gusu before a disciple saw him.”
Oh, that was dangerous. Lan Xichen has no idea what both Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng would do to him if something happened to their nephew. “Young Master Jin,” he says, gesturing for Lan Hao to let the boy down. Jin Ling wipes his tears away, performs an awkward bow and then proceeds to glare at him. Lan Xichen smiles softly, impressed, “would you mind telling me why you did that?”
“I wanted to go home!” Jin Ling answers, still glaring. Lan Hao opens his mouth to berate him, but Lan Xichen stops him with a wave. “It is Jiujiu’s birthday and he said I’d be home by now.” He sniffles. “I wanted to see him.”
Lan Xichen’s heart breaks as he thinks about all the things, all the people Jin Ling lost even before he knew what loss truly is. And he thinks about the people that stayed, Madam Jin, Jin Guangyao, Jiang Cheng… it brings back memories of his own – snow, a boy without his mother, two brothers and an uncle trying to be a family, love and pain, tears.
“I believe,” the words come out of his mouth without his permission, but Lan Xichen finds that he doesn’t mind. A better world can only be built on kindness, on doing what one believes is right, “that can be arranged.” He unsheathes his sword, offers his hand for Jin Ling to take and smiles when the boy’s eyes light up.
-
“Do you miss your family when you’re away from home?” Jin Ling asks as they fly above the woods.
“Yes.”
“So, it doesn’t stop when you grow up?”
Lan Xichen chuckles. “I’m afraid not.” He says, holding Jin Ling tightly against his chest. Lan Hao insisted he would do it, he’d fly Jin Ling to Lotus Pier and bring him back as quickly as possible, and if it were another child Lan Xichen might have let him do it, but Jin Ling will be a Sect Leader, he is in danger just by existing, Lan Xichen would be careless to put his life in the hands of a disciple, no matter how strong or competent they might be. “You do not stop loving your family when you become older.”
Jin Ling hums in answer. “I did not want to leave.” He confesses, eventually, his cheeks red. “Jiujiu insisted, he said I should make friends, meet people I could trust for when I become Sect Leader.” Lan Xichen blinks, surprised. He did not think Jiang Cheng would say such words, did not think he would give this sort of advice, not after refusing Lan Xichen’s help the first time around, not after kicking Sect Leader Yao away when the man proposed a business deal. But, Lan Xichen realizes, that says more about them than about Jiang Cheng.
Lan Xichen has done nothing to earn this kind of trust.
“I do not want to become Sect Leader.” Jin Ling keeps talking. “I do not want to leave Jiujiu alone. I am all he has.” He covers his mouth with one hand, surprised, and blushing even harder. He probably didn’t mean to say it, but Lan Xichen smiles at the child’s kindness. It is good to know that the new generation is better than them.
It is good to know Jin Ling has inherited his mother’s heart.
-
A group of disciples are waiting for them in front of the gates of Lotus Pier. They all stare at him curiously, hands on their swords, but when Jin Ling jumps down, the Head Disciple smiles at him.
“What are you doing here?” She asks, kneeling in front of the boy.
“It’s Jiujiu’s birthday!” He shouts, smiling excitedly. He has never talked or smiled like that in Gusu Lan, would probably be scolded by one of the disciples if he did. Sometimes Lan Xichen wants to burn down their rules, dreams about starting anew, a fresh set of norms, a happier life. A utopia.
“He is in his office.” She says, and Jin Ling starts running immediately, golden robes flying behind him. “Sect Leader Lan,” she bows, Lan Xichen nods in return, “if you would follow me.”
“Oh, no.” He waves her off, smiling. He should give Jin Ling and his uncle some privacy. “Let them be,” he says, “but I wouldn’t say no to a glass of water.”
She blinks at him, surprised, but eventually laughs. “Of course.”
-
From his seat outside the throne room, Lan Xichen watches the lotus on the river, the children swimming freely.
He hasn’t been to Lotus Pier in a long time. Longer than ten years, most likely. All Intersect conferences are held on neutral ground and after – after everything, he always preferred to stay close to home. He knew his Uncle needed him, knew Wangji was on the verge of a breakdown, knew his little nephew needed stability. He knew, knew – all excuses, Lan Xichen realizes.
He is but a coward, afraid to face one of the Sects that suffered the most from Gusu’s neutrality, ashamed to face the man that endured it all alone, who rebuilt his house and even had the time to raise a wonderful boy by himself.
This could have been him; this could have been his own reality and Lan Xichen cannot bear that thought, cannot face a reality that could have been his own.
“Sect Leader Lan,” the Head Disciple calls, “Sect Leader Jiang would like to see you.” Lan Xichen nods, standing up. He follows her through the buildings, the smell of spring following him. It is going to rain, he notices, and realizes he might not be able to make it home tonight.
“Zewu-jun,” Jiang Cheng bows as Lan Xichen enters his office. Lan Xichen performs a bow of his own and smiles when he notices Jin Ling is perched on his uncle’s chair, eating from a bowl of soup almost desperately, “I apologize, he shouldn’t have – ”
He shakes his head. “There’s no need for apology. It was for a good cause.” Lan Xichen watches as Jiang Cheng’s ears turn pink and he risks a glance at his nephew. He tries to hold back a smile, but clearly fails when Jin Ling looks up and smiles as well.
“I – I do not know what to say.” Jiang Cheng confesses, clearly taken back by the gesture and perhaps, the words. He is not used to being on the receiving end of great gestures, Lan Xichen realizes, he is not used to being considered important for someone, even the nephew he single-handedly raised.
Lan Xichen feels his heart break and, horrifyingly, finds himself fighting back tears. Oh, this man deserves so much more than what he has.
“I am sorry.” Lan Xichen says, watches as Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen in surprise. “I should have done more for you and your people.”
Jiang Cheng opens his mouth, probably to deny it, but upon seeing Lan Xichen’s decisive stare, he only nods. “Thank you for your words.” He says, finally.
“Please, allow me to fix this.” Lan Xichen finds himself asking, begging. It is for his own peace of mind, but it is also for Jiang Cheng and for Jin Ling, for the people of Lotus Pier who have watched their home burn and fought hard to build it back.
“I do not know how you could.” Jiang Cheng points out.
Lan Xichen nods in agreement. “I do not know either, now, but –” Wangji isn’t the only stubborn one in the family, Lan Xichen just holds a position where he is not allowed to be like that, “I will find a way.” He promises, determined.
-
II.
He starts visiting Lotus Pier every other week. His uncle gives him worried glances and Wangji frowns every time Lan Xichen comes back. He is aware of his brother’s distaste for Jiang Cheng, does not blame him for it, but he refuses to hold it against the other man.
Anger and fear have a way of bringing out the worst in them. He cannot imagine how those emotions plus sorrow and the feeling of betrayal can do to someone.
Jiang Cheng stares at him confusedly every time he arrives, but he doesn’t send him away, only offers him a room, food and lets him roam around freely. Jin Ling is more welcoming and Lan Xichen finds himself indulging in the boy’s desires, bringing him toys and an occasional treat he buys during his trip.
He’s not doing much – one could say he’s doing nothing at all, but Jiang Cheng seems less worried when Lan Xichen is next to him to observe the disciples train, so he considers it a good thing.
It is only on his fourth visit that he notices the new disciples. Two boys, not much older than fifteen; they can barely hold their swords, they are so weak and green, but they want to learn, that much is clear, and they listen to every other Jiang Cheng or their Head Disciple – Jiang Daiyu – says, adapting just as quickly as the others.
He does not think much of it. Word goes around that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is back to the way it was before it was destroyed and even though Jiang Cheng holds a reputation for being ruthless, he’s also known as a strong leader, protective of his people and his home.
Two months later, Lan Xichen notices another disciple. After that, it’s a new cook that makes Jin Ling’s favorite mooncakes. Another month and Jiang Cheng is helping his people build a new house for a family of five, the father is a farmer with bags under his eyes, but a serene look every time his children hug him.
And they don’t stop coming.
Yunmeng Jiang Sect is not only growing, it is thriving, and Lan Xichen has never seen their people look so happy.
“You have accomplished the impossible.” He tells Jiang Cheng one afternoon when they are parting ways. Jiang Cheng’s face turns red, and Lan Xichen has to hide a smile behind his own hand.
Jiang Cheng looks like he wants to deny it, but Lan Xichen is flying away before he can speak. He will leave him with that thought.
-
III.
“You must stop.” His uncle says after a year. Honestly, Lan Xichen is surprised it took him so long to speak up his thoughts. “It is not – appropriate.”
“I am simply helping a friend.” Lan Xichen answers. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Wangji flinch. His brother’s relationship with their uncle have been strained ever since the Sunshot Campaign, but it is not surprising that they agree on this matter. His uncle deems inappropriate to show preference towards a sect and Wangji thinks Jiang Cheng is responsible for Wei Wuxian’s fall.
Lan Xichen sighs. He is their Leader so they do not have any sort of power over him, but Lan Xichen would much rather not fight with his family.
He takes a sip of his tea, tries to sort out his thoughts. “Xichen –” his uncle starts, but Lan Xichen stops him by raising a hand.
“We abandoned him.” He finally says. “He lost his entire family and no one offered to help him, not without wanting something in return.” Lan Xichen explains. He came to realize this recently, but it is the greatest truth. The Jin Sect has an interest on Jin Ling, Sect Leader Yao wanted to trade his crops for the rice Yunmeng Jiang grows, smaller sects had sent letters and letters proposing marriage in exchange for sending supplies – Lan Xichen watched Jiang Cheng burn those letters with a huff while Jiang Daiyu cracked her knuckles, angrily.
“He chose his path.” Wangji offers. “They are all scared of him.”
“Rightfully so.” Lan Xichen comments. He’s seen what Jiang Cheng can do with his sword; he’s seen the full power of Zidian when a mercenary tried to kidnap Jin Ling. “But for the wrong reasons.”
Lan Xichen turns to his brother, waits for him to finish his tea. “He’s saving those people, Wangji.” His brother frowns. “He’s seeking the ones using resentful energy and he’s trying to save them.”
Wangji’s eyes widen immediately, but soon enough his expression goes from surprised to furious. “He’s looking for him,” there’s no need to ask who him is, “and killing them!”
“They are joining his sect, Wangji.” He tells his brother, then turns to his uncle. “I’ve seen it. The two boys who disappeared in the middle of the night after attempting to summon their mother’s spirit? They are training at Yunmeng Jiang, eating their food,” he adds, “playing with Jin Ling.”
Wangji stands up immediately, the cup he was holding falls on the ground, breaking in tiny pieces. He leaves the jingshi, angry, hurt, desolated, and Lan Xichen wants to follow him, wrap him up in a hug, but his brother is not five anymore and Lan Xichen cannot fight his battles for him, cannot heal the wounds caused by the loss of a loved one.
He closes his eyes. Lan Xichen did not want to have to choose between them, he’s been avoiding this conversation for that exact reason.
“Uncle –” it’s his uncle’s turn to raise his hand.
“I want to see it.” He says, finally, and Lan Xichen sighs. Jiang Cheng will absolutely hate this.
-
IV.
“I’m sorry.” Lan Xichen says, bowing deeply in front of Jiang Cheng. His uncle is now watching the Yunmeng Jiang disciples closely, walking amongst them – a judge deciding his sentence.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer, keeps his eyes on Lan Qiren, expectantly, as if waiting for his mentor’s approval. It makes Lan Xichen remember how young the man still is.
“Very well.” Lan Qiren says, finally, turning towards them. He stops in front of Jiang Cheng and nods. “Thank you for allowing me entrance in your home.”
Jiang Cheng only answer is to bow, eyes widening when Lan Qiren bows back. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Lan Qiren does not smile, but his expression softens and he turns to Lan Xichen, waiting for his answer.
“We would love to.” Lan Xichen says and his uncle nods.
-
“Be careful.” Lan Qiren warns, later, when they’ve arrived home. “Do not let yourself get blinded by love.”
Lan Xichen takes a deep breath, heart skipping a beat. Of course, his uncle would notice, he is surprised Wangji hasn’t seen it yet, but again, his brother might have and that could be just one of the reasons why he is so angry.
“I won’t.” He vows.
-
V.
Lan Xichen is getting ready for his monthly visit to Lotus Pier when A-Yuan asks to join him. His nephew is almost twelve, bright eyes, strong golden core, big curiosity for all things, Lan Xichen isn’t exactly surprised by the request, but he doesn’t know how to answer without either hurting the boy or hurting Wangji.
In the end, his brother makes the decision for him. “I do not like him. I never will.” Wangji says, later that night. “But I respect what he is doing, and I respect you. If you trust him, then I trust him too.”
Lan Xichen swallows heavily, closes his fists to stop himself from reaching out and pulling his brother into a hug.
“But A-Yuan is my son, he – if anything –”
“Wangji,” Lan Xichen interrupts him, one hand on his shoulder, “he knows.”
Wangji’s eyes widen in surprise and he looks almost accusatory; Lan Xichen would feel hurt about the implications that he’d ever break his brother’s trust, but he supposes Wangji is entitled to his anger, he’s lost the love of his life, could not handle losing his son.
“He recognized him.” Xichen explains. They haven’t talked about it, exactly, but Jiang Cheng has made it clear he knows – “Your nephew looks well, I am sorry he had to suffer so much at such a young age.” – and if there’s something Jiang Cheng and Wangji have in common is this – A-Yuan, A-Ling.
Wangji nods, eyes softening, and the next morning A-Yuan meets him at the gates, excited to meet a new place.
-
“I don’t think Jin Ling likes him.” Lan Xichen comments, watching Jin Ling glare at A-Yuan when his nephew disarms him, Suihua flying away from Jin Ling’s hand. The sword is too heavy for Jin Ling to use it comfortably, but he insisted on fighting A-Yuan, three years his senior, with a real sword. He lost his balance many times, and even though it is obvious he has a good posture, is smart enough to understand A-Yuan’s style and respond accordingly, the sword is clearly still too heavy for him.
Jiang Cheng huffs out a laugh. “He is just annoyed.” He just his chin at them and Lan Xichen watches Jin Ling stand up, adjust his clothes and then promptly throw himself at A-Yuan, making both of them fall right into the lake. Lan Xichen jumps, startled; he is moving to help them when the two boys resurface, laughing breathlessly.
Jiang Cheng smiles knowingly and says, “A-Ling likes him.” He keeps smiling, watching his nephew – both his nephews? – splash water around, giggling happily.
Lan Xichen’s heart skips a beat; he cannot look away from Jiang Cheng’s smile, finds himself hypnotized by the way his entire expression softens, the lines around his eyes disappearing. He looks ten years younger and too much like the young man Lan Xichen first met, without worries, without the responsibility of an entire sect on his back.
Lan Xichen supposes he was like that too, younger, naïve. They cannot go back in time, but they can move forward. “I am in love with you.” Lan Xichen confesses, his voice barely a whisper, but Jiang Cheng hears it anyway, turning to him with wide eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I am in love with you.” Lan Xichen repeats, louder this time. When Jiang Cheng does not move, he reaches out for his hand, squeezes it tightly. “I do not expect an answer, I just thought you deserved to hear it.”
Jiang Cheng keeps blinking confusedly, frozen in place. Lan Xichen smiles again, takes a step back. He did not have any hope and Jiang Cheng’s reaction is enough answer to his unspoken question. They are not meant to be, but even though Lan Xichen does not have Jiang Cheng’s heart, he has his friendship, and he will make sure to treasure it.
“I should go.”
“No.” Jiang Cheng nearly shouts, holding him back. “You cannot expect me to answer immediately, this is – I never thought –”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” He stresses, frustrated. “I thought – this – this never crossed my mind. I always felt –” he huffs, angrily, and shakes his head, “why can’t I make sense?”
“Jiang Cheng,” Lan Xichen smiles fondly, “you do not have to –”
“I thought you were doing it out of pity,” Jiang Cheng confesses, looking away, “I know it is not who you are, and I am not proud to admit I doubted your words, but I never thought I deserved your friendship, or – or other feelings.”
Lan Xichen closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in an effort to hide his tears. This – this hurts so much, Jiang Cheng should know he deserves love, kindness, happiness. He should know he is more than just a Sect Leader, he’s more than his father’s son, Wei Wuxian’s brother. He is a brave, strong man, who refused to give up in the face of hardships, who made mistakes and is trying to make up for them; a man who is not perfect, who does not see himself as perfect, and keeps trying to get better, to be better, for his Sect, his people, and especially for his nephew.
Lan Xichen wants to say all that and more, but he knows Jiang Cheng will refute every word. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
Jiang Cheng smiles, sadly, “sometimes I wish so, too.” He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand. “But Lan Xichen, Zewu-jun, Lan Huan – you are in love with me, and I am in love with you, so – I think that might be enough.”
Oh, Lan Xichen laughs, blissful. Yes, it is enough, he doesn’t say, but as he pulls Jiang Cheng into a hug, he whispers in his ear, “you will see. Someday. I will make sure of it.”
It is a new promise.
-
VI.
Lan Xichen is undressing when Jiang Cheng returns, slamming the door behind him with a groan. He mutters an apology when Lan Xichen raises an eyebrow, but otherwise does not say anything, only drops his sword on the nearest chair and begins undressing as well.
Bad days aren’t rare when you are a sect leader, but Jiang Cheng usually keeps those out of their bedroom, unless they are related to Lan Xichen himself, or worse: Jin Ling.
“Wanyin,” he tries, but Jiang Cheng ignores him, making him even more worried, “talk to me, please.” He reaches out for Jiang Cheng’s hand, sighs in relief when the other man accepts his touch.
“Jin Ling ran away from Carp Tower,” oh, oh, Jiang Cheng isn’t angry, he is worried, “apparently he got into a fight with other disciples, punched two in the face and then ran away before Jin Guangyao could scold him.” Lan Xichen holds back a laugh, it is so adorable how Jin Ling always comes back to Lotus Pier when he’s seeking comfort and Jiang Cheng, oh, his lovely husband, keeps trying to scold him and failing abysmally at being a stern uncle.
If Lan Xichen was one to gamble, he’d bet his sword the boy is now in his room, eating a delicious meal happily. Jin Ling is an incredible kid, smart, loyal, kind, but also spoiled rotten by both his uncles, and especially, by Jiang Cheng.
“He would not do it without motive.” Lan Xichen reasons, runs a hand over Jiang Cheng’s back softly, smiles when his husband leans into his touch.
“I know,” Jiang Cheng answers, “but he will be their leader one day, he cannot keep making enemies. He cannot be like me.”
Lan Xichen feels the words in his chest, heart breaking a little at the pained tone in Jiang Cheng’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and there’s nothing wrong with Jin Ling.” He asserts. “He is a boy still. Jin Ling is learning how to be himself and showing that he will not accept offenses or wrongdoings. He is showing his strength, Wanyin. You taught him that.”
Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath, leans into Lan Xichen’s shoulder. Lan Xichen loves being a source of comfort for his husband, adores being able to help him feel less heavy, with less darker thoughts.
“I love you,” Jiang Cheng says, later, his head resting on Lan Xichen’s chest, eyes closed, “you are my light.” Lan Xichen’s heart reacts in the same way it always does when he hears his husband repeat those words, it stops for a millisecond and then picks up speed, beating for Jiang Cheng, always for him.
“I love you,” Lan Xichen says back, “I will always love you.”
It is a promise and he always keeps his promises, especially the most important ones.
237 notes · View notes
helbertinelli · 3 years
Note
I wanted to see the new Jedi Order AND the New Republic in the sequels. But no, instead we got A New Hope 2.0, Luke 2.0, and Darth Vader 2.0. This is so disappointing.
Yeah, the sequels were disappointing. There were so many better ways to continue the story of SW (although personally I think they shouldn’t have continued it), but they chose to go about it in the worst way possible. They had no idea why SW was loved and they focused on the absolute worst things and then switched to new things when the first thing didn’t work rather than to try to fix the thing that didn’t work.
Like they were for sure that people loved SW for Vader so they gave us a guy who wore a costume that looked similar to Vader’s, but the character himself had no personality, he had some lame motivation to join the dark side, and he wanted nothing more than to stay evil. People didn’t like Kylo and then they were like okay, well Palpatine was in all 6 films, they have to like him. And then they brought back Palaptine.
But they missed the fact that the people loved Star Wars for the story. That the characters in SW were just characters without the story to tie them all in.
Everyone loved Luke saving Vader and Vader wanting to be redeemed. The sequels tried that story with Rey and Kylo, but 1. There was no reason for Rey to want to save Kylo. He wasn’t her father, he had no relation to her other than the fact that he killed Han in front of her and he tortured her and her friends. 2. Kylo didn’t want redemption. Every time he was offered the chance to do something good he turned it down and it was like 2 or 3 times that this happened. Vader didn’t. Yes, he didn’t accept Luke’s help at first, but he did in the end. And after Palpatine died, Vader wasn’t like “Okay, I’m taking his place now. Join me or you’re nothing to me“ to Luke. Vader did want to rule the galaxy with Luke right after he found out he has a son, but he gave up on that and realized that he needs to come back to Luke rather than to have Luke joining him. He realized he needs to make the right decision because his son is important to him and he can’t lose his son. Rey wasn’t important for Kylo. She was literally no one to him. They had no relationship at all, except what Kylo said: “My grandfather worked for your grandfather so we’re a dyad” (I legit had to pause the movie because I couldn’t stop laughing... they even ripped off Space Balls omg). Maybe the sequels would have been better if the two were related (either siblings or cousins). But they were just strangers and Rey just decided one day that she wants to save Kylo for some reason and then she decided that she’ll go back to trying to kill him and they kinda switch back and forth between that and it’s just a complete mess and doesn’t even come close to the story of Luke redeeming Vader that they were trying to rip-off from the OT.
People loved Vader being mysterious and intimidating and they loved the idea of this powerful Sith lord wearing a mask (like the Sith of the Old Republic did). And the sequels tried to copy that aesthetic, but then they reveal Kylo’s face right away and he’s not intimidating at all and the whole mystery around his identity behind the mask goes away too. And his entire thing is to be whiny and throw a tantrum when things don’t go his way and destroy everything around him. I guess they were trying to copy Vader choking people with that, but the scary thing about Vader was that he would choke people but he’d put no energy into it and he’d stay calm and it was kinda unnerving how calm he was when he was choking the life out of someone. This is why Vader was intimidating and menacing. He didn’t lash out like a spoiled child and destroy his toys. He was in control even when he wasn’t and he was calm and made it seem like taking someone’s life was no issue to him.
Anakin’s backstory is loved by people. The way someone who was a Jedi and good became a Sith and took down the entire Jedi order and basically destroyed everything his world was about in the process was extremely complex and well-written and Anakin is somewhat of a sympathetic character because a lot of people can see that he made the wrong choices for all the right reasons (he just wanted to save his wife and their unborn child... children as we later find out). Kylo’s turn to the dark side is just he was contacted by Snoke, who whispered bad things to him about Luke, and for some reason Luke decided that the only way to deal with this is to for some reason kill Kylo in his sleep??? (yeah I also don’t understand why the guy who spent 3 movies trying to redeem Vader and refused to fight Vader and was about to let himself get killed by the Emperor because he was convinced his Sith lord father was actually good and would save him, is now like “You know, my nephew has to die. He can’t be redeemed.”). And then Kylo’s immediate reaction to this was to kill everyone else in Luke’s temple because I guess they also needed to rip-off Order 66 (out of all things that happened). Kylo isn’t sympathetic in this way because 1. He had a loving family and a good support system with Han and Leia and even Luke to some extent. He wasn’t like Anakin who never had anyone to talk to and who had to keep his life a secret from the Jedi and who grew up a slave and who was desperate to save the only family he had left. Kylo’s life was good and they said it was good in the sequels too. 2. He got threatened by Luke and his very next choice is to go kill a bunch of innocent people. He never showed any ounce of remorse for his actions. At least with Anakin, we see that he’s torn apart when he’s pledging himself to Palpatine and he’s basically hurt and haunted by his actions starting from then on. Kylo just killed a bunch of people and he’s going around like “yep, just another Tuesday...“
And aside from just doing a bad rip-off of a story that was already presented in the same universe, they also messed up with other characters that were beloved.
Luke, who never gave up on his father and who even abandoned his training (I think) to go save his family, is now the guy who wanted to kill his nephew at the first sign of the dark side and then his solution was to leave his family behind and never see them again.
Han is a deadbeat dad who left his wife when things got hard and went away on a road trip with Chewie to avoid any responsibility.
Leia is always sad and she desperately wants to forgive Kylo (they basically gave her Padme’s personality for some reason, when she’s more like Anakin). Like I can see Han forgiving Kylo (because he does have a big heart despite his rugged exterior), but giving what we know about Leia’s character, she wouldn’t forgive Kylo. It took Leia a long time to come to terms with forgiving Anakin and she wouldn’t even talk to his Force Ghost when he came to apologize, even though she knew he’d never see him again. There’s no way that she sees Kylo basically turning into Vader 2.0 and she’s like “there’s still good in him.“ Like he destroyed an entire system of planets, that had to bring back some painful memories for Leia. She actually had to watch Alderaan be destroyed. And he killed Han. I know their relationship was ruined in TFA, but TFA also made it clear that Leia and Han were still in love. There’s no way she would have forgiven Kylo or thought he was still good after he killed his dad and her husband. And he tried to kill her too if I remember correctly. He fired on her ship, which made her float out into space. Leia isn’t like Luke or Padme. It would be difficult for her to forgive Kylo for basically turning into her worst nightmare and taking her family away from her and killing so many other people too.
And then they bring back Palpatine too because I’m guessing their thought process was “well he was in all 6 movies that people loved, we do need a good villain.“ And it made no sense. Palpatine died like twice in ROTJ. He got destroyed by the reactor that Vader threw him in and then the entire Death Star exploded into tiny particles. There was no way for the Death Star to be crash landed on Exegol since it basically blew up in all directions in the middle of nowhere in space. Bringing him back basically invalidated all of Anakin’s story because him dying to bring balance to the Force was for nothing. He didn’t balance anything, Palpatine was never defeated. They really didn’t need Palpatine to be the villain of TROS. You could replace him with any other random villain and nothing changes. They only brought him back to make a reference to the old movies and have people watch their movie for nostalgia. But I honestly don’t know who was nostalgic for Sheev.
Anyway, it’s embarrassing that they had a good story that they tried to rip-off and they still managed to fuck it up. Like how hard it is to rip-off Star Wars and still have a good story? Didn’t Disney actually accomplish it before in a Phineas and Ferb special? I don’t know why they couldn’t do it this time around too.
But for real, they should have showed the New Jedi Order and the New Republic and show us how Luke and Leia were changing the world for the better and how they were fighting to keep the world a better place rather than to give us a watered down version of the First Galatic Empire vs Rebels but with worse characters and a worse story this time around.
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raendown · 3 years
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Another follower milestone gift fic! @uintuva asked for the prompt word somnolent!
Pairing: TobiramaKakashi Word count: 1919 Rated: T+ Summary: Kakashi hurries home, excited for something he honestly never expected to be excited for.
Follow the link or read it under the cut!
KO-FI and commission info in the header!
To Bed, Perchance To Sleep
In the privacy of his own mind where no one would ever hear him being this ridiculous Kakashi wondered, if he were excited enough, whether he could vibrate out of his own skin. With every step and push he could practically feel nervous energy gathering in unexpected places inside of him until he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop moving when he finally did make it home. 
He was going to babysit. 
What he wouldn’t give to reach back in time and see how his younger self reacted to the news that he was actually excited about this. For years he’d held firm to the belief that he didn’t like kids and kids didn’t like him. If anything he tended to scare them. How time had changed him that he should be pushing chakra in to his legs to run faster just to get there in time to be a part of this. 
Okay so maybe it wasn’t really him that was babysitting, more that Tobirama was the one being trusted with properly caring for such tiny lives, but Kakashi lived in the house too so he got to be babysitter number two by default. If he could get home in time. Somehow even getting himself thrown back in time several generations still did nothing to staunch the habit of taking too many missions and running himself in to the ground without thought. Tobirama was working on that. Which was laughable. 
Hashirama was working on both of them, in truth, and his efforts were at least slightly more successful.
Thin clouds of dust puffed up around his feet as Kakashi dropped through the trees to land in the middle of a road very few would ever find unless they knew where to look, a road that twisted through trees grown of Hashirama’s mokuton so that none could ever pass through here unnoticed. He was so close to the Senju compound he could practically smell the ever present pall of smoke that came from living without electricity. Now the smell of home in his mind; how strange the things that had changed since he found himself in another time.
Several pairs of eyes tracked his progress in to the hidden compound, though none made any move to reveal themselves or stop him. Kakashi bounded past the gate with the sort of energy that would usually exhaust him just to watch from afar. He made his way through the lazy throngs of off duty Senju with light feet, rebounding off of walls and spinning around one granny with particularly bad knees, blithely ignoring the indulgent smiles that followed him all the way to the Senju main house he still had trouble believing he was allowed to live in. Even before he and Tobirama had somehow fumbled their way in to an emotionally constipated relationship he’d been given the honor of calling this his own home. 
Being a time traveller came with some really cool perks and catching the interest of a genius was one of the better ones. 
The front door very nearly banged open when he crashed through it; Kakashi only managed to stop it with a very undignified lunge at the last second, not wanting to scare the children deeper inside. One of the lower clan members who came in to clean the home watched him with an amused smile. Ignoring them, he toed off his sandals and scurried away down the hall until he was pausing outside of a door cracked just enough for Tobirama’s familiar rumble to whisper through. 
When Kakashi pushed the door ever so slightly he was treated to the sight of his partner cradling a small body between his arms and speaking down to the babe with the same serious expression he used when laying out battle plans. A tiny influx of chakra to his ears and suddenly Kakashi wasn’t sure if he wanted to break down crying or burst out laughing. 
“That’s when you add the sulphur,” Tobirama was saying, “but it’s important you do so very slowly or else the solution will spill and it’s very corrosive on human skin.”
“Maa, trying to start teaching them young?” 
His partner looked up at him with a blink and then pouted defensively. “She hasn’t fussed once since I started talking, doesn’t that mean it’s interesting?” 
“I think it means she’s six months old and enjoys the sound of your voice.” 
“Hmph. It could be the science.” 
“Yes, I suppose it could be.” 
Kakashi stepped further in to the room and very carefully did not melt in to a little puddle on the floor when a second figure waved at him from underneath several blankets against the opposite wall. “Kaka-ojisan!” 
How on earth Hashirama and Mito could have two children who looked so much like their father yet still possessed the grace of their mother could be nothing short of miraculous. Although no one had ever worked up the courage to say so to their clan head, most of the Senju had been part of the betting pool when Mito first got pregnant, passing theories back and forth about just how goofy any child of poor Hashirama would turn out. No one had really suspected these adorable little mites. 
“Is it bedtime already?” Kakashi asked, aware his voice carried just a hint of whining protest. 
“After the story is finished, yes.” When Tobirama nodded it was with just a hint of sympathy like he’d tried to put this off for as long as possible. 
“But I didn’t get to play!”
Little Takuma immediately began trying to extricate himself from the many blankets tucked in around him. “I’ll play with you Kaka-ojisan!” 
“Mmn, you will tomorrow,” Tobirama cut the boy off. Before either of them could protest he shook his head. “I promised that we would try to wait for Kakashi’s return but I did not promise we would do away with bedtime entirely. You need sleep, little one, or you will never grow.” 
“You don’t sleep!”
“I am already grown,” he pointed out in a bland tone. 
Kakashi watched Takuma pouting and honestly wanted to do so himself. He’d been so looking forward to this. For the first time in his life he’d been excited to spend time in the company of children. Now it felt like someone had dangled a toy in front of his eyes only to snatch it away as soon as he reached for it and he was uncomfortably aware of how similar to the children he was acting. Such awareness was all that kept the protests behind his teeth as Tobirama instructed their nephew to lay back down. 
Since he had apparently missed playtime Kakashi figured he might as well soak up what he could. Despite the fact that he was already buried under several layers Takuma seemed to enjoy having his Uncle Kakashi come over to tuck the blankets up under his chin, showing his appreciation with a massive yawn that almost cracked his jaw in half. Tobirama murmured a few more lines of whatever experiment he’d been describing as he transferred the babe in his arms to the crib Hashirama had grown for her and then there was little to do but to say goodnight.
“But I’m not sleepy,” Takuma insisted even as his eyes drooped. 
“Of course not,” Tobirama said. 
“I’m really not! I wanna play with Kaka-ojisan!”
He opened his mouth to say more but yawned instead and Kakashi’s heart clenched in his chest. 
“We can play tomorrow, how does that sound?” he bartered. Takuma thought that over. 
“Not now?” 
Tobirama was shaking his head as he herded himself and Kakashi towards the door. “Now is bedtime.” 
A very small part of him hoped that when he looked back he would be met with bright and eager eyes ready to leap out of bed. The rest of him very reluctantly acknowledged that his partner was right, small children that age really did need as much sleep as they could get to grow healthy and strong. Already Takuma’s drooping eyes were sliding shut only to snap back open to half mast in the hopes he could convince either adult that he was okay to stay up. A wasted effort. By the time they closed the door Kakashi was sure the boy would be fast asleep. 
He didn’t need the amused lift of his partner’s left eyebrow to know that his mask was formed around the shape of a pouting bottom lip. Kakashi stuck his nose in the air and turned to march down the hall as if he weren’t feeling a very childish temper tantrum building up in his chest. Unfortunately he only made it as far as a few steps in to the room they shared before Tobirama caught up to him, strong arms sliding around his middle even as one foot reached back to kick the door shut. 
“You got home much later than I expected you to.”
“I tried to be fast,” Kakashi murmured. “Just took a lot longer than I wanted it to.” 
“Mmn, isn’t that always the way.” 
Eyeing the bed wistfully, Kakashi sighed. “You know, I’ve never liked kids all that much but I really was looking forward to playing house with you and all that. Just for a day. Just once.”
“Knowing my brother, I’m certain there will be many other opportunities for him to foist his responsibilities on to us. Mostly paperwork, no doubt, but a man does need some alone time with his wife every so often.” 
“Wanting alone time is something I can understand.”
Tobirama nuzzled in to the back of his neck with an agreeable hum. “Now what do you say we get you cleaned up and in to bed as well?”
“I’m not sleepy,” Kakashi declared with a smile. Pale fingers reached around to tug at the edge of his mask until it fell down around his neck, face exposed to the world. Then those same fingers pulled at his chin to bring him around so he could see the unimpressed look on his partner’s face. 
“Did I ask if you were?”
“But why would I go to bed if I’m not sleepy?”
“Sage preserve me, I don’t know why I put up with you.”
Even as he spoke the words Tobirama’s voice was so tender it would have been impossible to miss the blatant affection in them. He made a big deal out of rolling his eyes and puffing with annoyance but in the end he leaned in to capture Kakashi’s lips with his own, drawing out the kiss until they were fumbling their feet and twisting their bodies to face each other properly. 
“Are you feeling sleepy now?” he mumbled eventually. “Or do I need to convince you a little more?”
“Oh no, I am simply beyond exhausted all of a sudden. Bed time. Yes. Shower and bed. Woe is me but I just don’t know if I have the strength to do it on my own!” In pretending to swoon Kakashi very nearly missed the tender affection worn so openly on his partner’s face.
“I’ll help you,” Tobirama told him. 
Kakashi didn’t bother to hide his interest. He may have started his day out excited for something entirely different but maybe a change in plans wasn’t entirely terrible. As his partner had said, there would be other opportunities on other days. For now he was content to follow wherever the man in his arms wanted to lead him. 
Especially to bed.
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snusbandxknifewife · 4 years
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Sticky ficky 7!
Have some Oak angst, some Vivi angst, and some Cardan angst feat. Bomb help! I actually made myself sad with this one so I hope y’all enjoy it!
~~~~~~~
Dear High King Uncle Cardan Sir,
It is with a heavy heart that I write to inform you I can no longer engage in correspondence with you, nor can I continue to be your sticky hand supplier. While my alliances were with you throughout this long and trying war, I cannot side with you anymore, given the recent turn of events.
I don’t know what happened with Jude, or why she’s staying in our guest room, but I do know that she suffers. When she saw my green sticky hand in the living room her first night here, she broke down sobbing.
Uncle Cardan, I confess I have never seen my sister cry.
So I send this letter to inform you that I have washed my hands of The Great Sticky Hand War, as I now wash my hands of you. I wanted to be friends, but I must stand by my sister now, as I know she would stand by me.
Why did you have to hurt her?
With disdain,
Oak
Little Oak closed his thesaurus and put down his mechanical pencil, handing the letter to Vivi to proofread. Vivienne Duarte, for her part, had no idea why Oak had decided to stake his honor upon something as trivial as a sticky hand, but she dutifully read over his letter, correcting any spelling mistakes before sealing it in an envelope and promising to send it to Faerie.
If Oak was to become High King one day, he would need to learn diplomacy, this was as good a place as any to start.
So Vivi watched with raised brows as Oak gathered up all his sticky hand memorabilia, his collection and the propaganda posters he’d made for the war, and threw it in the trash without a second glance. His bottom lip wavered and tears seemed ready to spill from his eyes.
Vivi took him out for pizza that night, leaving Jude alone in her room, crying like usual.
~~~~~~
Two weeks had passed since the night Vivi took Oak for pizza, and while she had been confused then, she was now severely worried.
Jude Duarte was a shell of a person. She’d get up to go to the bathroom, but she had yet to take a shower or even brush her hair. She barely ate, and what she ate was anything but nutritious. She denied herself water to the point that her head pounded, and only then would she sneak into her sister’s supply of alcohol, leaving her to wake the next day with a headache already formed.
Vivi didn’t know what the hell to do. She couldn’t handled a normal breakup, one where her sister cried if a certain song came on or because her boyfriend had cheated on her. But how was she supposed to handle a newlywed, exiled from her home and throne? Especially when even the thought of a sticky hand or nerf gun sent her over the edge?
Honestly, Vivi didn’t know what kind of set up those two had had when Jude was still in Elfhame, and she didn’t ever intend to learn. The likelihood of some weird sex thing being involved was way too high for her to even consider asking, not when she already shuddered every time she passed a sticky hand in the toy aisle of the local Dollar Tree.
“Jude?” Vivi called out, knocking on the doorframe of her guest room and staring into the darkness, towards the pile of covers that shielded her sister from the rest of society. “I ordered Chinese food, it should be here in forty-five minutes. I made sure to get sweet and sour chicken, I know it’s your favorite!”
Her fake upbeat tone echoed back to her, but Jude refused to move. With a heavy sigh, Vivi walked forward and sat on the edge of her sister’s bed.
The girl looked like a ghost, her eyes staring blankly ahead and her cheeks stained with tears.
“Jude, honey, you know I love you,” she sighed, patting Jude’s hip. “But you smell like a dumpster. Please come shower in my bathroom.”
Jude, her mouth covered by her duvet, mumbled something Vivi couldn’t understand. Then, after prompting, she spoke again.
“Need help,” she whispered, the most pitiful noise Vivienne had ever heard in her—admittedly short—life. Jude Duarte, asking for help? Fuck.
She decided not to say anything, opting to just pull down the blankets and allow Jude to use her shoulders as support to sit up.
Jude’s time in the Undersea had been tough on her body, and her wallowing in the mortal world had worked overtime to rob her of whatever muscle and fat she had left. Starving oneself and laying in bed at all hours of the day was a terrible recovery strategy, but Vivienne couldn’t really bring herself to berate her sister.
Jude leaned heavily against her sister’s side and together they stumbled through the hall and into Vivi’s bathroom.
Vivi turned on the water, ready to leave to give Jude some privacy, and stopped when she saw the way her sister’s fingers shook. She knew then and there that Jude wouldn’t be able to undress herself, so she did it for her.
Just like when they were children, after Madoc had murdered their parents and spirited them away to Faerie, Vivienne Duarte helped her sister out of her clothes. When they were little, Vivi had been in charge of bathing the twins and helping with their hair. It’s been years since she’s had to do this, but she put Jude in the shower and washed her hair as the young woman sat, face first in the blasting water.
Vivi grit her teeth in anger as she took in the poking bones and concave stomach of her little sister, the girl who had always been full-figured and strong. Her body, her tenacity, her will to live, all taken from her so quickly. Jude Duarte looked broken as Vivi washed her hair, pulling fingers through tangles that had long formed into clumps the size of her palm.
Jude should’ve been safe, she should’ve been ruling in Elfhame, where food and wine abounded and excess was the name of the game. She shouldn’t be wasting away to nothing in a world she never claimed as her own. Cardan, who, by Vivi’s own observation, cared for Jude, should’ve known what banishment would do to her.
No matter what happened, no matter why she’d angered him, he should’ve never banished her. Not then, not so soon after she’d been tortured.
Vivi helped Jude out of the shower and helped her dress before steering her towards the living room, where Oak was waiting with the Chinese food, Teen Titans playing on the old tv.
Vivi took her food into her room and sat down with a pencil and paper.
Cardan Greenbriar, you worm-eaten husk of a man,
I don’t care who you are or what you are, I don’t care about curses or crowns or kingdoms or fate, I care about family. And, right now, mine is hurting. Fix things with my sister, or, so help me gods, you’ll be fucking mincemeat.
Sincerely,
Vivienne Duarte
The paper ripped in some places she was pushing so hard, but she figured that would help get the message across.
She sent it directly to the High King of Elfhame.
~~~~
The scent of smoke hung thick in the air of the unnaturally quiet room. The birds outside the open window knew to stay silent as the man on the floor threw a second crumpled up paper into the crackling fire.
The High King of Elfhame’s rooms were in shambles; furniture broken in rage, tapestries form down by hands with nails bitten down to the quick, books toppled from precarious places on overfilled shelves.
One man, the king himself, sat in the center of the carnage, his back pressed to the foot of his grand bed and his legs stretched out towards the fire roaring in the corner of his bedchamber.
His eyes were wide but unseeing, tears cutting ragged trails through the dirt smudged across his cheeks and his hands shaking in his lap. His tail, freed from his breeches, was the only part of him smart enough to try and hide from the flames. It stuck out behind him like a sore thumb, cowering under the bed in a way that he wished he was small enough to do.
What had he done to his Jude?
He’d thought for sure she would’ve put two and two together, would’ve figured out his riddle. She’d already announced herself to be the High Queen if Elfhame, all she had to do was say she pardoned herself!
He’d considered that maybe she had been to tired from her ordeal the day of her banishment to decode his words, but he was positive she would’ve been recovered enough to come back and claim her throne by now.
His Jude, his darling god, should’ve been by his side already.
When he’d received Oak’s letter a fortnight ago, his very heart, as scabrous and small as it may be, had felt like it was ripped from his chest. His nephew, his only family left—save his mother—so recently introduced and so quickly ripped away from him. He had to admit that one day Oak would make a fantastic diplomat, he was already capable of getting his point across with scathingly few words.
But when he’d gotten Vivienne’s letter, that’s when he began to realize he’d truly fucked up.
His head pounded and his stomach was in knots as he wondered what had happened to his wife in the past two weeks, what had warranted such strong words from his sister-in-law and former friend. Was Jude sick? Had she hurt herself? Was she refusing to eat?
Would she recover? He couldn’t even begin to picture a world where Jude didn’t recover, where she wasn’t fighting tooth and nail to better herself, where she wasn’t the powerhouse he always saw her as.
Deep down in his heart he knew that he’d done the one thing that all the torture in the Undersea wasn’t able to do: he’d broken his wife’s spirit.
He’d never forgive himself.
“Your Majesty!”
Cardan didn’t so much as blink as the Bomb screamed, entering the disaster of her king’s rooms and likely expecting to find his dead body on the floor.
When she saw the fire, she gasped in horror and grabbed Cardan by the shoulders, throwing him as far away from the fire as she was capable of.
The fire had reached halfway up the wall and was dangerously close to engulfing the bookshelf closest to the window. Anyone with a brain knew that, if she left to get buckets of water, the whole room would be up in flames by the time she returned. So, she made the executive decision to sacrifice his duvet—the duvet that he’d pulled up over his sleeping wife only two weeks and a day prior.
She threw the duvet over the fire and began to stomp on it, her thick rubber-soled boots making a hollow THUNK every time she brought her foot down.
When the fire finally stopped trying to fight back and the room was full of cloying black smoke, she pulled the remains of the duvet up.
And it stuck to the floor.
The Bomb furrowed her brow in confusion and pulled harder, bracing her feet against the stone floor and yanking with all her might until the duvet finally gave up and she went flying backwards, landing harshly on her butt with the ruined duvet in her hands.
The underside of the duvet was covered in black scorch marks and some strange, multicolored substance that she can’t quite place.
But Cardan knows what it is, and he reached for the duvet; his fingers running through the molten hot rubbery liquid, tears springing to his eyes once more.
“Your Majesty?” Bomb’s voice was quiet, confused as she watched the boy king spread boiling hot goop between his nimble fingers.
“I couldn’t look at them anymore,” he whispered back and Bomb put two and two together.
He’d started the fire to melt all his sticky hands. The gifts from his nephew, the game he’d played for weeks with Jude. All up in flames in the blink of an eye.
“Why hasn’t she come back?”
Bomb winced, reaching to try and pull his hand back. She could see boils starting to form on his fingers and she knew that if she didn’t get the melted sticky hand off him soon, his skin would burn so badly that it fell off.
“If you were her, would you?” Bomb asked, succeeding in grabbing his hand and worrying at her bottom lip as she saw the blood red burn marks on his hand.
He ripped his hand back from her, forcing her to look him in the eye, to see the wild devotion in his face and the desperation dripping from each tear.
“I’d always come back for Jude. Do you understand that?” He sounded ragged, broken and robbed of comfort. “Always. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of going after her, Liliver. Please, you must know that. You have to know that.”
The Bomb had never seen anything like this, not from Cardan, not from another faerie, not from anyone. This kind of pure, unrestrained pain reached out from every facet of the king’s being and grabbed her heart with a grip of cold iron, throttling her as she watched him suffer.
“Liliver I did it for her! Everything I did was for her, she has to know that. She can’t not know that!” He’d reached the point of sobbing, his burned hand hanging limply at his chest and starting to well blood from where the burns broke his skin.
“They would’ve killed her, Liliver, we both know it!” Cardan’s voice cracked and he folded over himself. “You saw what she looked like, she was wasting away! No mortal should ever be that thin, Liliver, certainly not Jude!”
“Your Majesty, please.” Bomb didn’t know what to do beyond grab his injured hand once more. She pulled him to his feet and hauled him over to the bathing chamber, but he stopped in the doorway. He refused to go in, refused to hard that brambles grew over the entrance and stopped the Bomb from trying again.
So she moved him to his desk and she sat him down. It took about a half an hour of work, but she was able to pull the ruined sticky hand mash off his hand, burned skin and blood falling away with every movement. The whole time he sobbed, he lamented, he worried. Cardan Greenbriar, High King of Elfhame, told her every word from the two letters he’d received because he’d memorized them both in his pain. He told her of his fears for his wife and he asked for her advice and she didn’t know what to tell him.
She didn’t know what she would’ve done if she’d been Jude and Van had been Cardan. She didn’t know how to come back from a betrayal like that.
“Write back,” she finally offered as she bound his hand. Around them ash was still falling and his room was still a disaster, but at least Cardan seemed to have recovered some of his composure; sewn together just like his ruined hand. “Write Jude, tell her what you meant. You can’t leave Faerie to go get her, not with Madoc on the prowl, but that doesn’t mean you can’t speak to her in your own way.”
He froze, his hand throbbing against the confines of his bandages as he looked at the Bomb. She was right. She was seldom wrong.
Liliver figured that she wouldn’t get his dismissal, not with the way his gaze had gone so distant so suddenly, so she excused herself. She arranged for the rest of the Court of Shadows to clean his rooms, ensuring that she was the one cleaning his bedchamber.
She watched as he wrote and wrote and wrote and she said nothing, not that he would’ve heard her anyway. He was way too far in his own head.
She found herself grabbing his jacket off the floor—no doubt thrown in a fit of anger earlier during the night—and she found herself walking towards his closet.
Cardan Greenbriar hadn’t gone into his closet since that night, his wedding night. Not since he’d been with his wife, his darling.
So it was Liliver who found the discarded blue sticky hand with the broken ring finger, the only sticky hand saved from the great sticky hand fire.
She didn’t even think as she grabbed it and hid it in her trouser pocket, slyfooting away and out into the hall. She didn’t think as she snuck into a back tunnel and worked her way up to the room that Jude had kept as Seneschal. She didn’t think as she opened Jude’s bedside drawer.
And when she was met with a pink glittery sticky hand, she smiled. When she set the blue hand next to the pink one, she thought that maybe, just maybe, these two would have a chance.
She hoped they’d have a chance.
~~~~~~~
Hope y’all don’t hate me yikes lol
Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell
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thejacketandthehook · 4 years
Text
The Art of Pretending
Title: The Art of Pretending 1/?
Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)
Summary:  Killian Jones needs a family and needs one now. In order to impress his boss, Killian hires a single mother and her son to pretend to be his wife and son for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, right?
Author’s Notes: Hello all! Here is my submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon!This is based off of the Lifetime movie, "Borrowed Hearts," starring Eric McCormack and Roma Downey. The movie came out in 1997, and I consider it to be one of the first made-for-tv Christmas movies.
A couple of years ago I was watching it and thought this would be a fantastic scenario for our favorite Captain and Savior. I wrote it and then stopped, and then started it again, only to stop again. When I saw this movie marathon, I knew instantly this was the movie I wanted to do and I wanted to make sure that I finished it this time.
I hope you enjoy it!
Rating: Teen (for language mostly)
Word Count: 3534
A3O
Henry Swan looked up at the night sky and closed his eyes. If anything in his eight years of life has taught him, it was the first star you saw was the one you always made a wish on. And so he did. He closed his eyes so tightly, his little fists clutched, and his mind could only focus on one thing.
A house.
Not necessarily a home, because at eight he really didn't understand the difference between a house and a home. To him, they kind of meant the same thing. And he did have a home, with his mother, Emma, and their landlord, a fiery older woman she insisted that everyone call "Granny." But it was Thanksgiving, and he knew that he should be giving thanks for the fact that he has a roof over his head, friends and family to eat with, and food on the table - even if his mother does make him eat vegetables.
But they lived in a small apartment where you can hear every sound all the tenants make. You couldn't have the air conditioner on at the same time as the oven, and God forbid you try to take a bath without the neighbors below complaining of a leak. Henry's room was also the size of a closet, which could only contain his bed, a small dresser, and an even smaller toy box. He was getting too big for the room, honestly. The rest of the apartment was rundown, and he knew that his mother was doing the best that she could. She worked really long hours as a waitress in a local diner.  
But no matter how hard she worked, it never seemed to be enough. The only thing he asked for for his birthday this year was a fairy tale book he saw at a secondhand book store. The book is amazing, but it also cost upwards of fifty dollars. He felt bad, because he knew that his mom was getting a bill after bill after bill. She tried to hid it from him, but he knew was "LAST NOTICE" meant.
(He looked it up online, honestly.)
So while he was wishing for a house, a smaller part of him was hoping his mother could get a better job or something to help get more money. They needed it.
Henry also needed a bigger room.
"Henry!" his mother called from the dining room. "Food's ready!"
Walking away from his window, Henry took a deep breath before bouncing into the room. "Smells delicious, Mom!"
"Oh, thanks kid. But Granny's the one who cooked everything," she said, gesturing to the older woman who walked in carrying the turkey.
"Hey, I made the dessert!" Granny's only grandchild, and fellow waitress at the diner that Granny owned and Emma worked at, Ruby piped up. "It's apple pie." She winked at Henry. "Your favorite."
"It's supposed to be pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving," Emma said, coming into the room wearing oven mitts as she carried a casserole dish filled with mashed potatoes.
"We have that too," Mary Margaret Nolan chimed. She was Emma's best friend, and Henry's godmother. Henry looked at her as more like a family member than a friend, along with her husband, David, who was putting ice in the cups. "David made a fresh pie this morning."
"Only the best for my nephew," he said, grinning at Henry.
The table that was only supposed to seat four sat the six of them somewhat snuggly. Henry was squished between his mother and aunt, and he smiled as he looked around. After everyone sat down, Granny insisted that they should say grace, and though Henry only went to church for Easter and Christmas (and the occasionally Sunday when Emma feels that they should go), he bowed his head too.
He might have said his only little prayer, because when you're desperate for a change, you'll pray (or wish) to anything.
"Let's eat!" Granny announced as she got up to cut the turkey. There was a lot of chatter and music playing softly in the background. Emma filled Henry's plate with turkey, mashed potatoes, and corn, and he thought that maybe the house wasn't big, but his heart certainly was.
~*~
Three weeks before Christmas. God, did he hate this time of year. Everyone was so fake, pretending to be in the Christmas spirit when really they were just looking for a way to buy their mother a gift that was way too expensive because they're not actually sure what she would want.
Killian Jones sighed as he entered his place of work and walked past the receptionists who might have said hello to him, but he wasn't sure. Because right now, he had big news. Huge, really. And he really needed to get to the thirty fourth floor to find his business partner (and perhaps closet friend) David Nolan.
Killian began working for the Woodman Corporation right out of college. He started as everyone does, an intern before just working his way up. Now he's the manager of this branch in New York, and overseas hundreds of workers. Not bad for a boy who came over to America when he was fifteen with his brother and barely any money in their pockets.
The Woodman Corporation was the company you wanted to hire when you wanted a building made. "We make dreams come true!" had always been the slogan. And though Killian wasn't exactly sure about the dreams part, they certainly did make wonderful buildings. And the owner, Marco Woodman, was just the kindest soul one could meet. Killian had the occasion to meet him once before, which was when Mr. Woodman came to visit his New York office, and Killian had just started getting paid for his work at that time. There was another branch in Boston, one in Chicago, and one in Los Angeles. Rumor was that Marco wanted to go overseas, and back to his home, London. Killian would almost kill for the position. Killian too was from London, and would love to go back. Nothing was really keeping him here in New York anyway.
Killian got on the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had to see David and tell him the news. Now. He was going to burst if he didn't tell his partner the news in the next minute.
Killian has known David for only the last number of years, but it certainly feels longer than that. While Killian had already been working here when he arrived, David had an air about them that screamed “Royalty” and walked around like he had a stick up his butt. In actuality, Killian and David hadn’t really become that close until two summers ago when they were accidently stuck in an elevator together. Though it was only forty-five minutes, the two men realized that they had quite a bit in common and after that moment became fast friends. David is the first person that Killian runs to with news, and vice versa. So it’s no wonder that not only would Killian practically run to his friend’s office, but that he knew David would share the same excitement with him.
Finally, the elevator dinged and he got off, quickly making his way to David's office. Barely greeting David's secretary, Killian burst open the door to David's office before proclaiming, "He's coming here."
David looks exactly how you picture Prince Charming from those fairy tale stories you probably heard about years ago. Tall, masculine, with blue eyes and sandy-brown hair, he was definitely the typical “boy-next-door” that every daughter wants to bring home to show their momma. Fortunately for David, and unfortunately for all the women who work at this branch, David met his soulmate when he was in high school and married her straight after college. Killian thought he was foolish to marry the one and only girl he ever truly loved, but David told him that she was “the one who he made sure would never get away.” Killian scoffed at that, and called him a blind-loving fool in his mind.
When Killian came bursting through the door, David looked up from his desk. "Who? Jesus? Has the second coming come so close to Christmas?"
"No, you ninny. Marco is coming here."
David stood up slowly, a look of astonishment and awe on his face. "Are you serious? Dude, this is huge. If he's coming here that means..."
Killian started to grin. "I know."
"Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe he is going to make a branch in London."
"Oh, how I hope they are."
"That might be why he's coming. Maybe he's here to offer you the job."
Killian crossed two fingers. "I do sure hope you're right."
David pretended to be hurt. "And you would consider leaving me and Mary Margaret in this our hour of need?"
"Our of need? Mate, she's pregnant, not dying. And she's got another three months to go. I can come back from London by then."
"Would you really go?" David asked, sitting back down behind his desk.
Killian shrugged. "Probably. I mean, Liam is back there, you know, with Elsa and my nephew. And I do love New York, but...I don't know. Maybe I should go back. Besides you, I have nothing really tying me here, you know."
"I'm touched that you would consider staying for me."
Killian smirked. "You know I love our bromance. Is that what Mary Margaret called it?"
"Yeah, apparently, that's what her students call it nowadays. A friendship between two men."
"They're ten. They don't know what's hip any more than we do."
"They're closer to understanding it."
Killian sighed as he sat down. "Isn't that true? But back to the matter at hand – Mr. Woodman coming here. Now. I wonder if Regina knows about this.”
“Probably,” David sighed as he sat back down behind his desk. “She’s the head of P.R. here, if anyone should know about Mr. Woodman’s return, it –”
“Men,” Regina Mills, said sternly as she threw open the office door. With her dark black hair and dark brown eyes, Regina was beautiful, but she was by no means a warm woman. However, she had a sort of soft spot for Killian and David, which is why they only gave a small jump when she walked into the room, and didn’t scream or nearly jump out of their chairs (which Killian would be ashamed to admit may have happened once. May have.) “Did you hear the news?”
“About Mr. Woodman?” David asked, as Regina walked further into the room and nodded. “Yeah, we did. We were just discussing why he might be coming here.”
“Well, isn’t it obvious? He wants someone to take over the London section.”
“And what, you want the job?” Killian asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Please,” she scoffed, as though the thought alone was ridiculous. Killian has known Regina long enough to know that she was being serious with her answer. “The last thing I would want is to move to London. All that rain and eating fish?” She shuttered, and Killian and David gave a small grin to each other before looking back at her. “No thank you. No, I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Woodman, and….”
Just then, David’s assistant, Ariel, popped her head into the office and said, “Mr. Jones – sorry to interrupt, but your assistant called. He said that you have Mr. Woodman on the phone.”
Killian, David, and Regina all looked at each other. Killian was so excited, he barely noticed Regina’s face pale as he replied, “Send the call through to here.” Ariel nodded before closing the door behind her.
“Killian, before you take that call—” Regina started, but Killian waved her off.
“Whatever it is, it can wait, Regina. This might the moment my life changes,” he grinned at his friend, who grinned back at him.
“Yeah, about life changing…” But before Regina could get another word in, the phone on David’s desk rang.
Killian smiled before he leaned over, picked up the phone, and pressed the button to except the call. “Mr. Woodman, sir, what a wonderful surprise.”
“Mr. Jones? How are you doing?” Marco asked in his old Italian voice.
“I’m fine, sir, just fine. And how are you?”
“Bene, fine. I needed to talk to you, Mr. Jones—”
“Please, call me Killian.”
Marco chuckled. “Killian, eh? Killian, I needed to talk to you. I would love to come to New York to visit, yes? I want to see how we are doing there.”
“Oh, you’re coming here?” Killian asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice, even though he looked at David and both pumped the air. “Oh, sir, that’s wonderful. In fact, I insist that you stay at my house, as my guest.”
“Killian, that is very kind, very kind. I would love to stay with you and your family.”
He smiled and was about to respond when Marco’s words registered. Smile fading, he shook his head as he asked, “Stay with my family—?”
Before he could ask what exactly Mr. Woodman meant by that, Regina took the phone out of Killian’s hand and said, “Mr. Woodman? Regina Mills here, how are you?” She paused as he answered. “Oh, I’m fine, just fine. Yes, Killian is fine, he just got into a coughing fit, poor thing.” She lied, looking at him and then glancing away when he mouthed, Regina, what the hell? “Oh, yes, Killian would love to have you come and meet his family, I’m sure.” She paused again before, “Yes, Mrs. Jones and their child are anxious to meet you too.” Killian’s eyes almost bugged out of their head, his mouth dropping before he looked over at David, who was just as stunned as Killian was. “Yes, I will pass along the message. Yes, Killian is fine now. We can’t wait to see you either, Mr. Woodman. Ciao.”
As soon as the phone was back in the receiver, Killian all but screamed, “Regina, what the bloody hell is he talking about?! What family does he want to meet?!”
Regina leaned on David’s desk, and though her shoulders were back and her back was straight, she kept looking down at her shoes. She muttered something under her breath.
“What was that?” David asked.
She cleared her throat. “I may have touched up your image a bit.”
Killian raised his eyebrows even higher and leaned forward. “Wait. What?”
“Well, it’s just,” she paused before continuing. “I know you’re a hard-working man, but…Marco has certain expectations, and Killian….”
“Yeah?”
“Well, you just…don’t meet them.”
“What do you mean? You just said I’m a hard-working man.”
Now she looked at him. “You are! And you completely deserve that London promotion. But Marco is a family man, and he expects his employees to also be family…people.”
“You’re not a family person,” David muttered before sinking further into his seat when Regina gave him a glare over her shoulder.
“That may be true,” she added softly as she looked down before flicking her hair over her shoulder. “But I’m not the one who needs to impress Marco for a job.”
“What are you saying, Regina, that you ‘spruced’ up my image?” Killian asked, his stomach going somewhere near the floor.
Looking him straight into the eye, she proclaimed, “That’s exactly what I did.”
Killian shook his head and began pacing behind the chairs that were facing David’s desk. “Wait, you told Marco that I have a family? What kind of family?”
She shrugged. “The normal kind. A wife and kid.”
“Regina, why would you do such a thing?” David asked. “Killian’s not a bad guy.”
“No, I know that,” she insisted. “But I mean…you may have a bit of a reputation.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Killian, don’t play stupid, it’s not a good look on you,” she snapped at him. “You know how it looks that at every Christmas party or celebration we have in the office, you either show up with a woman no one has seen before or sees again, or you come alone. And Marco is a well-established business man, who prides himself on a having a good family.”
“Didn’t he adopt?” Killian asked.
“Does it matter?” Regina replied. “He has a kid. He loved his wife until her passing. He prides himself on hiring people who are loyal and respectable, and who know that family is above all else.”
“How in hell do you know so much about this?” David asked.
“I’m the P.R. person, of course I need to know almost everything about our C.E.O.” She rolled her eyes.
“There’s just one problem with your plan, darling,” Killian said, clutching his hands on the chair and leaning forward. “I don’t have a bloody family!” Taking a deep breath, he said as calmly as he could, “You know that I only have my brother who is in London right now.”
“Yes, yes, I know that,” Regina nodded. For once in her life, Regina paused to think about what she should say next. "I might have come up with a hypothetically family for you, yes. In all honestly, I just said it so he would meet with you."
"We have met!"
"Yes, years ago. Killian, you were barely out of college when you two met. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he doesn't even remember you."
"Well, gee, thanks," Killian replied sarcastically.
"So," David interrupted, finally. "Let me get this straight. When Mr. Woodman comes, Killian - who just invited him to stay at his house - is going to showcase his family, which he doesn't have?"
Regina nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much the story."
David looked Killian sympathetically. "You're screwed, man."
Killian gave him a look before he replied sarcastically, "Thanks mate."
"Listen, we'll fix this." Regina stated.
"How? Are you going to tell Mr. Woodman that my "family" died tragically in a car accident? Because I don't see how we can fix this?"
"We'll give you a family, dumbass!"
Killian raised an eyebrow before looking at David and commenting, "She's the one who invented a family for me, but I'm the dumbass?"
"I was trying to make you look better!" Regina argued. "I don't think Mr. Woodman- once more remind you, a family man - would want to hear stories about how you have dated every woman in New York."
"That's not true," Killian scoffed. "I haven't dated you."
"Thank Heavens for that," David commented.
"Can we focus on the problem at hand? Where the hell are we going to find a family that will suit our needs?"
David suggested, "Craigslist?"
"We call acting companies," Regina replied, already taking out her phone and, knowing her as he did, started looking up nearby acting organizations. "I'm sure for the right price, anyone will pretend to be married to you for two days."
"Hey!" Killian shouted, feeling the slightest bit insulted.
"Wait, I think..." David started to say, his eyes wide in thought. But just as quickly, he shut his eyes and quickly shook his head. "Nah. Never mind."
"What mate?"
"Well, it's just...I actually know a single mom with a young boy. And she could really use the cash."
Killian looked at David like he was an angel from up above. "Are you being serious right now?"
"Completely. She's a single mom living in an apartment that is basically the size of your living room. I think she's trying to save money for something bigger, so you would totally be helping her out."
Killian scratched the back of his neck as he looked at Regina. "What do you think?"
She shrugged. "No harm in asking. It would work perfectly in all honestly." She looked over at David. "This woman is trustworthy?"
"Emma? Oh, completely," he replied without a bit of hesitation.
"What about her son? How old is he?"
David thought about it for a moment before replying, "I believe eight, and he's got a wonderful imagination. He'll have no trouble selling the family part, I promise."
Killian still looked unsure. "I don't like this. Faking a family for a business deal?"
Regina took him by the shoulders as she whispered, "Killian Jones. This is not just a business deal. This business deal could help our company go global, if we sell to London. Who knows, Paris could be next, then Germany, you don't know! But this is the deal that you worked day and night for."
"The one that she was willing to lie for, to make you look better," David added. Regina gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.
Killian shrugged off Regina's hands as he said, "I know, I know. I just...I don't like the idea of being dishonest."
"I know it's not ideal, mate, but it's a hell of a deal."
“Do you think she would go for it,” Killian asked David. “This…Emily?”
“Emma. And…honestly…I don’t know. She’s the only person I’ve ever met who is more stubborn than you are. But I can ask.”
Killian took a deep breath before replying, “My fate lies in your hands.”
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rafivadafreddy · 4 years
Text
Pretty Little Psycho.
A Nevada Ramirez and Nettie Perez Story. Part Three.
Part One - Part Two
Summery: Nettie isn’t amused with Nevada’s men following her around. It seems like she can never get away from King Asshole. Some trouble from her past comes back and her life get’s messy.
Word Count: 2,181 Warnings: Cursing. Nettie gets aggressive. Gun Use, Blood. Shooting. Stabbing. Spanish! Death. Lovely ending (not really. this is sarcasm. don’t use my words against me! lol.)
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She tried, honestly Nettie tried to find Nevada again to return the money to him. But whenever she believed she knew where he was. It was almost like he had people following her.
Huffing when she noticed a car a few days later. Nettie couldn’t believe this asshole had the decency to follow her. Who the FUCK did he think he is? Following her like she belonged to him. If anything, that asshole belonged to her. It was his guy that stole from her. Sure, he got her purse back and paid her back, paid her back a few thousand more than she was missing…
But that wasn’t the point!
The point was, since he appeared at that café that night. Her life went from eh, too bad to Worse. All thanks to this bitch who thinks he’s the shit.
So obviously when Nettie noticed the car following her, she started walking back-ways and going through the alley ways. Doing everything she could to make sure the car couldn’t follow her.
One afternoon when she was walking home, Nettie noticed one of Nevada’s men following her. So, turning a corner and grabbing her gun. She held it out in front of her. Finger on the trigger and as soon as the guy turned the corner he froze.
“Look, I don’t know you and I could care less if the fucking Papa asked you to follow me.” She said, moving her finger to turn the safety off. Showing him that she was not joking around. “Tell Nevada he owes me nothing and I definitely don’t owe him shit… tú entiendes?” she hissed out and clicked the safety back on before turning around and walking away.
‘honestly, who did this guy think he was? As if I couldn’t take care of myself. I’ve proved I can. Fuck him.’ Nettie kept thinking to herself. Only to let out a gasp when a hand gripped her upper arm and pulled her back as a car rushed by.
“Now mami this is how you show you can take care of yourself?” a very familiar voice said, and Nettie had to clench her teeth together.
“Ah, King Asshole. Just the guy I wanted to see!” she shook his hand off her arm and opened her purse. Pulling out the wad of money. Nettie handed it over. “This right here? Yeah, not fucking mine.” She told him and still held the money.
Nevada making no movement to grab it, irritating Nettie to no end.
“No.” was all he replied. Making Nettie gasp.
“No? What the hell do you mean, no?” she demanded. Her fingers wrapping around the money. Crushing some of the bills. Not that she cared.
“I mean, No. do you wanna hear it in Spanish? ¡No!” he smirked and tilted his head to the side.
Tensing up as Nevada stepped closer to her, Nettie didn’t notice the people around them. How they would cross the street to not pass them or turn the other way and find another way to pass. So, when one of his men stepped behind her and slid something into her purse, Nettie never noticed it.
“I told you mami get something nice for yourself with that money. Think of it as a… gift.” Nevada chuckled and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
He was so close she could see how green his eyes are, surprising her. ‘Wow… he has some really gorgeous ey- NO NETTIE. Do NOT finish that thought!’
Watching him wink before turning around and leaving. Nettie just watched him walk away honestly confused and with a frown on her face. “Puto loco…” she mumbled before calling out. “Tell your men to not follow me anymore by the way! Or you’re gonna find yourself one guy short.” She smirked and turned around as well. Walking away.
Ignoring the looks she was getting. Nettie went home where she started to clean up. “Let it go! Let it go…. Can’t hold it back anymore! Let it go, let it gooooo turn away and slam the door!” she was singing around her place as she cleaned up the downstairs.
The money that Nevada had refused to take back was in a safe in one of the cupboard in the living room. Come one day she’ll need it, at least she knows where it is.
As Nettie cleaned her home, singing a lot of different Disney songs. Dancing around and never knew that just inside her purse was a little device, allowing Nevada to listen to everything going on around Nettie.
As she went about her day, singing and doing what she needed. Getting her chores out of the way. Grocery and pharmacy mainly before washing clothes. Nettie had a relaxing day, the little run in with Nevada didn’t count.
¬_¬
It wasn’t until later that night did, she leave her home in some black pants that were tucked into knee high boots. A black t-shirt and a jacket over it. Nettie decided to just throw her hair in a ponytail and not bother with touching up her makeup. The mascara and pink lipstick were enough for her. Walking around with her headphones in and music on. Nettie walked to a cute little Italian place for dinner.
Once seated, a glass of wine in front of her. She played on her phone before looking around. Was it sad that she was having dinner alone? Hell no. Fuck what people think.
Yet, as she looked around. Nettie wanted to cry when she saw who entered the restaurant. Of course, he had his minions with him. But this time, Nevada was walking with some women and a kid.
“Hermana… please. Just sit the hell down.” She heard him speak and had to roll her eyes.
‘Of course, I decide to treat myself to a night out and this asshole chooses this place to eat.”
Instead of acknowledging the man and what seemed like his family. Nettie went back to her wine and played on her phone. Though something did surprise the girl. She watched his sister walk to the bathroom and Nettie listened as Nevada started to him ‘Let It Go’ and she turned her head slightly. Seeing he had a nephew.
‘Either he secretly loves Frozen, which I doubt since he wouldn’t hum the song out in public like this… or.’
Gasping, Nettie grabbed her purse and searched through it. Pulling out a Little device. Her eyes narrowed. Asking for her food to go, Nettie paid for it and drank the rest of her wine. Standing up once she paid for everything, Nettie walked over to Nevada`s table. Dropping the small device on his lap, Nettie leaned forward. Ignoring the look, she was getting from those at the table.
One hand softly brushing his cheek that was covered in scruff from not shaving in a few days. A look she learned he liked since his beard never changes. Her other hand dropped to his thigh, where her nails were grasping in a tight grip. Her nails digging into his jean covered thigh.
“Nevada…” Nettie softly breathed out as she whispered in his ear. The hand on his cheek moving to the back of his neck and toying with the hair there. “If you ever… plant something to spy on me again. I’ll take that promise I made to Jose and do to you.” She planted a small kiss to his cheek. “So… forget me and Let it Go.” Nettie tightened her grip on his thigh and was satisfied when she heard him hiss.
By the look on his face, Nettie couldn’t tell if Nevada was shocked, aroused or angry. Hell, he was probably feeling a little mixture of all three. Standing up, Nettie winked at Nevada and nodded to the company he had at the table before turning around and walking out.
By the time she made it home, Nettie took precaution and looked around the street. The lights in her home were turned on and Nettie was certain she turned everything off. Going up the steps, gun in hand. She pushed the door, allowing it to swing open. Something it should not have done, seeing as she locked the door. Nettie slowly stepped inside with her arms up and gun pointed in front of her.
Seeing the house trashed, Nettie grabbed her phone from her back pocket and speed dialed the police. Sadly, a few seconds later, hearing a crunching sound. Like someone stepping on broken glass. Nettie spun around on heel of her foot and glared at the stranger. It wasn’t anyone she knew, heck it wasn’t even one of Nevada’s goons.
“Ah, Miss. Perez. I see we finally found you.” The man chuckled, a sound so cold and heartless it sent chills down her spin.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint. But your finding people skills, they are shit.” She snarled and quickly shot at the stranger before dashing out of the house. Cursing as a bullet went past her head. ‘Shit… shit!’ she kept screaming to herself and didn’t make it far before someone grabbed her by the hair.
Next thing Nettie knew she was screaming out in pain as something stabbed her in the stomach. Being dropped to the floor, Nettie was kicked in the head and was falling into unconsciousness. Blacking out as a car was heard pulling up and people were yelling.
Allowing the darkness to consume her, a darkness where she didn’t feel the pain anymore. Nettie felt nothing as memories of her childhood played in her mind.
Running around in a white sundress, 6-year-old Nettie was laughing and twirling around. Her father watching her from the bench. Reminding her to not go too far.
Watching the girl twirl and play, without a care in the world. Not knowing the heartache and pain she was going to feel in just a few years when her life would change. When slowly, one by one her family would be dying leaving her alone. Nettie was shocked to see the small 6-year-old stop and stare at the older Nettie.
“It isn’t your time yet… you need to wake up Nettie” the small girl said, and the older version was taken back.
“What?” she asked and blinked a few times.
“It isn’t your time to leave the earth…”
“She’s losing a lot of blood! We need to hurry her to surgery!”
“No… no! She’s flat-lining! We’re losing her! Bring the paddles!”
As the defibrillator charges the paddles, they are placed on the girls naked chest and after a second, it goes off. Giving the young girl a huge dose of electricity. Her back arches and her limp body lifts up off the bed. Yet the monitor stays the same, the straight line never showing signs of a heartbeat.
“Come on Nettie! You need to continue. We can’t let our life end like this!”
The older female frowns and looks around. Two ways she can go. Right, towards the light and left, towards the yelling she can faintly hear. With a deep breath. Nettie makes her decision. Stepping forward. Nettie knew what she had to do.
Nevada:
If asked what made him go after the girl, Nevada wouldn’t have an answer to that question. He himself didn’t exactly know. He just had to go and give her a piece of his mind. Telling his sister and nephew he would be back soon. Nevada got into his escalade with Miguel and Manny. Leaving three men with his sister to look after her. Miguel drove to Nettie’s house.
But as the car turned on the street, the car came to an immediate stop. Causing Nevada to almost fly forward from his seat. Though before he could ask, an ear-piercing scream was heard, the three men rushed out of the car. Each with a gun in their hand.
While Miguel went after the man, Manny went to bring the car closer and Nevada. He ran over to Nettie. Placing a hand over the huge gash on her stomach.
“Don’t worry Mami… you’re gonna be alright.” He whispered to her. Hearing a gunshot, Nevada looked up in time to see Miguel return. Nodding to Nevada who nodded back. Knowing that the man was taken care of. They soon got Nettie in the car and Manny broke every traffic law known to get them to the hospital.
As soon as they entered the hospital, Nettie was taken away on a gurney with a doctor and nurses. Nevada answered as many questions as he could before finally losing his patients and telling them all to fuck off. Telling Miguel to stick around, make sure no one suspicious got in and went after the girl, Nevada left and sent his sister a text. Canceling the rest of their dinner. He couldn’t exactly show up covered in blood.
One thing Nevada was certain of, he was going to get to the bottom of this. No one comes to HIS neighborhood. Tries to kill someone he took interest in and gets away with it. Oh no. Nevada wanted blood.
Tagging: @the-baby-bookworm​ @garturbo​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ Anyone else who would like to be tagged, just message me! Woo this one was fun to write! What did you think of the ending!?  Please heart and Reblog!  Masterlist found here
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Behind The Marriage - Harry Styles Series (Part 30)
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Part 29
On the days agenda, you were meeting up with Gemma to start planning your baby shower and going shopping for decorations. You were both excited and nervous. Excited because you were looking forward to having a baby shower, but nervous because you’ve not really spent anytime with just you and Gemma without Harry or anyone else. 
“You’re going to be fine,” Harry whispered wrapping his arms around your waist. 
“Of course, I’m going to be fine,” you said. ‘Why would you think I think otherwise?” 
“Because you’ve got that worried look in your eye, your shoulders are tense and you’re about to poke your eye out with your mascara because your hands are shaking,” he said taking your hand in his. “Babe, she’s just my sister. I’m not sending you to the lion’s den.” 
“I know, I know,” you sighed. “But your sister hasn’t always been my biggest fan, so there’s that.” 
“Hey, look at me,” he said. 
You sighed turning around and looking up at him. 
“I know there’s been some not good moments between you and my sister, but if we want things to get better, we have to take small baby steps. Especially with the babies coming,” he said. “This is her olive branch to admit she didn’t make the best first impression. so she should be on her best behavior. Please, just give her a chance?” 
“You know I will,” you said. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not still nervous.” 
He kissed your forehead, “Do you want me to go?” 
You shook your head, “Honestly, I think it would make things worse. It would make it seem like I need you for everything and I don’t trust being around her.” 
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. “Now, I’ll let you finish up so you’re late.” 
“What are your plans for the day?” You asked. 
He shrugged, “Haven’t really thought about it,” he said. “Might just... hang out here. Make some tea, read a book?”
“Why don’t you ever do that while I’m here? You know those are like my favorite things,” you laughed. 
“Because I get too distracted when you’re here,” he smirked. 
“Oh, so it’s my fault.” You laughed. “Fuck you!” 
“Hey! I’m just joking,” he said. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed. “Now, get out of here so I get ready.” 
He laughed kissing your cheek before going back into the bedroom.
**
About a half hour later, you arrived for lunch to meet Gemma. She wasn’t there yet, so you sat down at the table waiting for her. You looked over the menu to get an idea of what you wanted to eat. You had two food moods during this pregnancy. One you wanted to eat everything in sight because everything sounded delicious, while the other you barely wanted anything because everything sounded gross. There was never an in-between. 
That day you didn’t really want to eat much, so you decided you would go for soup and bread. By the time the waitress brought you your water, Gemma walked into the shop. You waved her over and she made her way towards the table. 
“What can I get you to drink?” The waitress asked. 
“Oh, water will be fine,” she said sitting down, brushing hair from her face. 
You took a sip of your water trying to ease your nerves a bit. Neither one of you really spoke until after you ordered your food and the waitress took the menus. 
“Um, thank you,” you started. “For uh, wanting to do this.” 
“You’re welcome,” she said. “It’s the least I could do, I mean you are the mother of my soon to be nieces or nephews.” 
You put on a smile, but you felt hurt at her response. Was she only trying to be nice to you because she felt like she had to based on her connections with you and not just because she wanted to really get to know you? 
“So, I’m thinking we could have the shower at my Mum’s house,” she said. “I think it would be perfect, plus a lot of our family live nearby or at least in closer distances.” 
“That’s true,” you said. “How many people are you thinking about inviting? I was thinking we could just have like a smaller get together.” 
“Oh,” she said. “Well, I mean I’m talking hundreds of people, but I’m not talking under fifty either.” 
“I just thought since you and Harry were going to have everyone bring presents for donations, you’d want to have more people there,” she added. 
“Right,” you said pointing to her, “That makes more sense.” 
“Would you be inviting anyone from the states?” She asked. 
“Well, yeah,” you nodded. “I’d like for my family and some friends to be invited, if they can come.” 
She nodded writing it down. “Have you given a thought to a theme?” 
“Um, not... not really,” you said. “I was just thinking something simple, maybe some flowers and simple decorations. Like I said, I’d rather it just be a small and sweet celebration with family and friends.” 
“Okay,” she said. 
You sighed, “Look, I’m not... I’m not someone who is all about showing off or having big fancy parties just because I have the means to do so,” you said. “So, honestly, I’m not the best person had coming up with ideas or themes or whatever. I just want to have someone where everyone gets along and is celebrating me and Harry becoming parents and for the babies that will soon be in our lives.” 
Gemma sighed looking down, “I understand,” she said. “I’m sorry.. I’m sorry for everything and how I’ve acted towards you in the past. I really am. I know we’ve sort of squashed this before, but this is the first time we’ve spent anytime together just the two of us. I feel like I should clear the air some more.” 
You looked up at her. 
“I want you to know that my actions towards you were never because of who you are,” she said. “You as a person. It was more of your actions, for lack of a better word. It was just so weird and scary for me for my baby brother to go off to another country and come back with a girl and claim he was in love. I’ve seen people use him for their own gains in the past and some of those people were relationships. So, I was a little weary of that and then a year later and you two run off an get married? Like it just seemed very sketchy, but I do know that you love him and he loves you... that’s why I’m trying. I hope that one day we can put everything behind us and be okay.” 
“I know everything happened fast,” you said. “And believe me when I said I was  shocked myself on how fast it happened, but I was happy and I’m still happy. Thank you for sharing this with me and I’m ready to move past everything, if you are.” 
“I am,” she said. “And this will be our first thing to help us move on.” 
“To moving on and the baby shower,” you smiled holding out your glass. 
She laughed, “To moving on and the baby shower,” she smiled clinking her glass with yours. 
**
The rest of the day, you and Gemma spent going to different shops, finding decorations, flowers, cake and food ideas. You actually were having a great time and wish it had been like this between the two of you from the beginning. You even stopped into some baby shops and picked up a few things. 
By the time, you pulled into the driveway of your and Harry’s home, your feet were swollen and you were exhausted and ready for dinner. When you opened the door to your home, you were met with the smell of your favorite dinner. Music played softly in the background and candles lit up the entire downstairs. 
“Harry?” You asked placing your things down. 
“Hold on! I’ll be right there,” he said. “Don’t move.” 
“Okay,” you laughed. 
A few minutes later, Harry walked in with a single rose. “Welcome home, baby,” he smiled. 
“What’s all this?” You asked. “I was only gone for a few hours.” 
“Your point?” He smiled. “I wanted to do something nice and romantic for my wife.” 
“Well, thank you,” you smiled. “Now, is that food I smell because I’m starving.” 
He laughed, “Yep, I made your favorite.” 
You smiled following him into the dining room, where you rushed to sit down. 
“I hope this is okay,” he said. “I know how your appetite can be sometimes.” 
“This is perfect,” you smiled. “Although I’m probably going to get my weight in it tonight,” you joked. 
“Good thing I made plenty,” he smiled. 
You put a serving or two on your plate and took the first bite. “Fucking delicious,” you groaned. “I knew there was a good reason why I married you.” 
He scoffed, “I’m glad my cooking was good enough for you.” 
You giggled taking another bite. 
“So, how did today go?” He asked. “By the amount of bags you had with you, I’d say it went great, but not for our credit card statement,” he joked. 
You rolled your eyes, “It went really well,” you smiled. “We talked and hashed out things during lunch and it set up the rest of the afternoon for success.” 
“That makes me really happy, baby,” he smiled taking your hand in his. “So, does this mean the baby shower is good to go?” 
“It is,” you nodded. “We’re having it at your Mum’s place.” 
“Really?” He smiled. “That’s perfect. Is there a theme?” 
“Sort of,” you smiled. “But that’s going to be a surprise.” 
“From who? You?” He asked shoving another bite of food into his mouth. 
“From you,” you smirked. 
“What?” He laughed. “Why me?” 
“Because I wanted it to be,” you smirked. 
“Well, okay, then,” he laughed. 
**
Once you two were finished with dinner, Harry brought out the dessert. 
“Before we have this,” he said. “I think we need a change of scenery.” 
You looked at him confused, but followed him upstairs. 
“Okay, now, close your eyes,” he said. 
“Excuse me?” you asked. 
“Just do it please,” he groaned. 
“Fine, fine,” you laughed covering your eyes. 
Harry made a weird face to make sure you weren’t cheating. When you didn’t laugh or make a comment, he took that as you couldn’t see anything. He moved the dessert to one hand and opened to the door of the extra room in the house. 
He placed the dessert on a nearby table before coming back and helping you walk inside the room. 
“Okay, you can open them,” he said. 
You removed your hands, opening your eyes to see a finished nursery. There were two matching cribs with two gliding chairs. There were pictures of you and Harry in Jamaica as well as some other photos. Stuffed animals and toys were in the corner and the walls had been painted a gorgeous color. There was even a starlight nightlight that lit the entire ceiling and the made the room a purplish color. 
“Um, so, uh, what do you think?” Harry asked nervously. 
He had spent the day setting everything up while you were gone. He wanted to make this a surprise for you, but he also hoped you weren’t upset because you hadn’t been apart of it. Everything he set up or placed had been things you two bought together or had discussed about getting. 
“This... this is amazing,” you sniffled. “I can’t believe you did this.” 
“So you like it?” He asked. 
“I love it,” you smiled. “It’s perfect.. it’s everything I wanted.” 
Harry sighed with a relief, “I was hoping you’d say that.” 
“Were you afraid I wasn’t going to like it?” You asked. 
“That and you might be upset I did this without you,” he said. 
“No, not at all,” you said. “I love that you did this. Thank you. I... I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” 
He smiled, “You’re welcome, baby.” 
You kissed him before walking over to one of the chairs. “This is going to be my new favorite place in the house,” you giggled. 
“Mine, too,” he smiled sitting down in the other. 
“Just think in a few short months, we’ll be sharing this room with our babies,” you smiled. 
“Yeah, we’ll be holding them instead of this ice cream,” he joked. 
You giggled, “I love you,” you whispered holding your hand out. 
“I love you, too, baby,” he smiled taking your hand in his. 
Everything hasn’t gone perfectly in you relationship with Harry, but moments like this made everything worth it and you couldn’t wait until you got to share it with your two babies. 
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bluebellhairpin · 5 years
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La Vie En Rose
Kili X Reader
A/N: I’ve been so lazy lately, sorry this has taken so long T-T. Set in an AU where everyone is still happy and ALIVE after BotFA. That’s how we all would of preferred the movies to end anyway. - Nemo
Request: For the dialogue prompt request c: Please and thank you! 49. "I spent the last year learning Ukulele so I could play you that." — With Kili and can the song be la vie en rose? I have a really good cover I can link you too. Super sweet and wholesome. - @dicksoutformtl 
Prompt: 49 - “I spent the last year learning Ukulele so I could play you that.”
Song: ‘La Vie En Rose’ by Reneé Dominique (Ukulele Cover) 
Summary: You had met Kili many years before he left to go retake the mountain with his brother and Uncle. When you got word of how injured he was after the battle to take back the mountain, both you and Dis set off right away to see him (along with his brother and uncle). A few more years passed and the dwarves had all settled back into their old home. Kili, however, still has one last thing he needs to make the mountain his home again.
Masterlist  
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Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
You’d heard about your friends soon-to-be-under-way journey. They’d decided to take back their home.
Your home.
You wanted to help, but Kili, the nephew of your king and best friend, had told you no; that it was too dangerous and he didn’t want you getting hurt.
You had more of a problem about him getting hurt considering how reckless he was. That worry proved to be a valid one when you and his mother, Dis, got word of the Battle.
They’d spiraled into a battle of five different armies, and although the Mountain, your home, had been taken back, Kili, his Uncle, King Thorin and older Brother, Fili, had all gotten hurt. Thorin was worst off, having gotten injured to the state that it was life-threatening and he might not make it to next week. Kili was also rather bad, but news said he’d pull through. Fili’s injuries were all fixable by healers and a couple handfuls of stitches.
No matter the news, now it was safer and the Mountain was re-claimed, you and Dis both set off to get to the boys before it might be too late.
You and Dis made it to Lonely Mountain in half the time the Company did.
Il me dit des mots d'amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
By the time Lonely Mountain was in sight your little duo were met by royal guardsmen. Having no news of whether Thorin had survived or how the brothers were was the first thing on Dis’ tongue.
Turns out Thorin was okay, still a little tender, but alive.
Fili had greatly taken up the mantle of a fill-in ruler, looking after restoration of the Mountain and housing other dwarfs like the King he was growing to become.
Kili was helping his brother as much as he could, abhit sometimes more of a liability then asset, but Fili was still grateful for the extra pair of hands and a fourth opinion (Dwalin and Balin were helping an awful lot too, per Thorin’s request).
You and Dis soon after reached the Mountains doors. You’d not realized how big they were, nor how beautifully made. You were going to have a wonderful time exploring if the rest of the Mountain was like that.
Il est entré dans mon cœur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
Thorin and Fili met you at the entrance, both of them pulling Dis into a tight embrace. You stood back to give them space, family reunions always made you too nostalgic to even watch at times.
“(y/n), thank you for coming with mother. I’m glad she had company while she traveled.” Fili said, catching your attention from the giant carved hallways.
“Wasn’t like I didn’t want to come. I need to tell Kili off myself for scaring both Dis and I, once I find him.” You smiled, letting Fili pull you into a short but meaningful hug.
“Maybe I should make myself scarce then.” Kili’s voice called out, “If you’re planning to give me an earful of how I should be acting that is.” he joked, jumping away with a laugh as you went to slap him behind the head.
“Don’t sass me, or I’ll get your mother onto you.” You looked over at Dis, who was smiling widely at the interaction between you and her son. She opened her arms to him and he stepped right on in. He was a mamma's boy after all.
C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie
A few days passed and you found yourself gaining a routine. Dis already had one, and found herself getting into the swing of things within a couple hours. You had to have some help; living in a village was much different from a palace-like Mountain.
There were changes in the clothes you wore, the food you ate, how you were expected to act, even how you spoke. Luckily Kili was more then happy, just about eager, to help, so was Dis and Fili. Thorin was a bit testy, but quietly pointed out whether you were using the right fork so you wouldn’t get caught off.
You found out you enjoyed getting dressed up for dinners, made you feel like a royal too. Some even though you were one, or at least married to one from how you interacted with Kili.
When situations like that came up a blush tinted both your cheeks, and you both made quiet and unenthusiastic attempts to deny the statements.
Honestly, it was almost physically painful for those who knew you both well, like Fili, Dis, and Balin to watch and hear. Once they got so close to having enough that they heavily toyed with locking you both in the smallest broom closet on hand just so it’d be official.
Thorin stopped them. His almost-fatherly instincts kicked in and he didn’t want his youngest nephew being married so soon. Not that he’d tell anyone that.
Et dès que je l'aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon cœur qui bat
Unbeknownst to them all and you, Kili was planning a little wooing of his own. In fact he’d been doing so since they went passed Rivendell.
Because he missed you.
He found himself missing you so much he wanted nothing more than you to be with him for as long as you lived. But he didn’t just want to ask you. He felt that was too boring and that you deserve something more special.
He had everything so well planned, he didn’t even need anyone else’s help.
What he didn’t plan for was you walking in on him when he was practicing.
Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is La Vie En Rose
“What… What are you doing Kili?” You asked him, a questioning look on your face. He was caught half-strum, fingers still on the cords, mouth frozen as he turned to face you, awkward smile slowly reaching his lips.
“Hi (y/n), what brings you here?” he asked, standing and trying to ‘casually’ hide the ukulele behind the bed. His smile was turning less nervous and more devious as if trying to make you follow where he was try to change the subject to.
“I heard music. It was coming from your room. I didn’t know why, quite frankly I still don’t.” You said, changing the subject back to what he was doing. His smile fell, swapping it out to bite his lip.
“I, um… I was playing and practicing.”
“What for?” You asked, but he stayed silent, shuffling his feet on the floor for a while. You sighed. “Doesn’t matter. But you- do you think you could play for me anyway? I liked the sound of it.” You said quietly. He looked up at you abruptly, a small smile tugging on his lips.
“Really?” he asked, the small smile now a hopeful and wide one. You nodded with a laugh.
“Yes Kili.”
When you kiss me heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see La Vie En Rose
Kili had soon finished playing. You’d moved to sit closer, which was a stool right opposite him. He looked up to see you still staring at him with a light smile.
“That was beautiful Kili, when did you learn how to do that?” You asked, leaning forwards awaiting his answer.
“I spent the last year learning Ukulele so I could play you that.” he admitted shyly, looking down to twang the ukulele strings a couple times before looking up into your eyes. “I’d planned to play it to you in a much nicer place. Candles and all that, it’d even be on one of the balconies facing west so we’d get the last of the sunset as the stars came up.” he added softly.
You smiled wider and took one of his hands in yours.
“Why though? You still haven’t told me why.” You said with a soft giggle, red rose to his cheeks and he mumbled something that you had to ask to be repeated.
“I think you’re my one. I want to marry you.” he repeated, “If you want to, that is.”
“Of course I do. I’d want nothing more in the whole world.”
When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
A world where roses bloom
News of your wedding spread quickly, at least it did after you told Dis. Thorin was good at keeping secrets, and you had to go to him first to ask for a blessing. He gave it to you and Kili almost screamed in happiness.
Fili was next, and was ready to yell from the rooftops that his little brother was getting married as soon as you gave the OK for him to do so.
After Fili was Balin and Dwalin, then the rest of the company.
Dis was told last, and for good reason since she went around telling everyone about it, from the high-council chamber members to the kitchen staff.
You’re wedding itself went without a hitch. Everything ran smoothly, and despite the elven king being invited, Thorin kept his brooding and overall angsty-ness to a minimum.
The dinner and dancing was your favourite part, everyone was so cheerful and filled with ale that the dancing was done horribly, meaning it was all extremely heartfelt and showed how well or badly some close to you did dance. Fili is a horrible dancer.
Kili, however, is a extremely good one.
And when you speak angels sing from above
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs
Kili’s favourite part was the kiss. He’d wanted to kiss you since forever, and now he finally got to, and it felt exactly as he thought it would. His other favorite part was the dinner, he got to watch you as you danced around, cheeks tinted pink, and he realised (again) how much he loves you.
Marrying you, his one, was the best thing he ever did.
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La Vie En Rose
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three-drink-amy · 5 years
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If After All These Years, You’d Like to Meet
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Note: Thanks to all the people who encouraged me to update this! It was always the plan to update it, but it helps to know people want more to read! It certainly helped me write it faster. I just hope you enjoy this new chapter! You’ll know what I mean when you read it.
master list - AO3
Chapter Sixteen
Claire felt a tear roll down her cheek as her head tilted back in laughter. She smacked a hand on the table in front of her.
“It’s no’ funny, Claire,” Jenny protested.
Claire shook her head at her phone. “Okay, but you have to understand, from my perspective, it’s fantastic!”
“Ye think it’s fantastic that a toy ye bought my son for his birthday is turning my home into madness?” Jenny asked, making a face as they video chatted. “Ye kent what ye were doing, Claire Beauchamp.”
“Of course I did,” Claire admitted. “But come on, I’ve never bought an Aunt gift before. I asked Jamie if he thought Wee Jamie would like it and he said I should get it. At least it’s not a drum set.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Gee, Maggie’s birthday is in January. Should I expect that you’ll get her that now?”
Claire grinned. “That��s two months away. I can’t predict what amazing toy I’ll find before then.”
Jenny shook her head, though a reluctant smile crossed her face. “Whatever, Claire.”
“Really, you should be touched that your brother’s girlfriend bought presents for your child,” Claire reminded her. “His girlfriend of only a few months.”
“I’d think that was impressive if ye hadna met them before ye were his girlfriend,” Jenny said. “And also, ye came up for his party. What were ye to do, not get him something? Five year olds demand gifts at their parties. No matter how well we attempt to raise them.”
Claire laughed. “That’s fair. He did seem to have a good amount of those. I’m pleased that a full month later, he’s still taken with mine.”
Jenny shook her head. “Ye just wait till ye have bairns, Claire. I’ll be buying the most obnoxious toys for them, whether they’re my nieces and nephews or not!”
Claire grimaced. “Oh no. If I remember anything about a young Jenny Fraser, it was that she certainly kept her word. Even when you didn’t want her to.” Jenny grinned. “I’m a bit afraid of this promise.”
“As ye should be. I imagine before that time comes, my children will have a fair few birthdays. So choose yer gifts wisely, Claire,” Jenny said with a raise of her brow.
“Noted,” Claire conceded, smiling.
“Well I should go. I think I hear some naps ending upstairs.” Jenny looked nervously up to the ceiling. “It was lovely to chat wi’ ye.”
“And you,” Claire agreed. “Give the children my best. And Ian.”
“Aye, and ye do the same wi’ my brother,” Jenny added. Claire looked up to see Geillis walk into her flat. She motioned with her finger that she was on a call. “Oh wait, while I still have ye!” Jenny called before Claire could hang up. “Tell Jamie that the thing he requested from Lallybroch was too precious for me to send so Ian is bringing it. He’ll be down on Wednesday.”
Claire nodded. “Am I supposed to know what this precious object is?”
“If ye were supposed to, I wouldna have been so vague,” Jenny replied with a cheeky grin. “Just let Jamie know.”
“Alright, I will. Bye, Jenny!”
“Talk to ye soon, Claire!”
They both waved before ending the video call. Claire looked up at Geillis, surprised by the look of awe and mischief covering her face. “What?”
“So that’s gotta be a ring, right?” Geillis asked. Claire rolled her eyes. “You really don’t know what Jamie asked his sister for?”
She shook her head. “No. But I don’t have to know every little thing Jamie does or says, you realize? I really doubt it’s a ring.”
“Claire, come on! It’s “too precious to send” and so she’s sending it in person? That’s absolutely an engagement ring! Oh my god, I can’t believe Jamie is going to propose! Ah, you’re going to be engaged!”
Claire sighed as she watched her friend get excited over nothing. “Geillis, you can calm down. It’s not a ring. And honestly, I don’t want it to be a ring.”
Geillis dropped her arms and stared at Claire. “Why not?”
“We’ve been together for only four months. That would be far too soon for a proposal.”
“So what will you do if it is a ring and Jamie does propose?” Geillis posed.
Claire took a deep breath. “I’m not actually sure. But I don’t want us to get married yet. It’s too soon.”
“Well you better think on it and be sure of what you’ll do before next Wednesday,” Geillis pushed. “Because I guarantee that it’s a ring.”
“Did you come for something?” Claire asked, feeling annoyed by her friend.
“Oh yeah, I just got off of work and knew you had the day off. I was just coming to see what you were up to.”
Claire stared at her friend, feeling less and less like spending time with her. Surely if they went out, Geillis would spend the whole time talking about whatever Jenny was sending to Jamie. She kindly lied, saying she was busy and that Jamie had made plans for them later. There was no telling if Geillis bought it or decided to just leave her alone. Either way, she left and allowed Claire her peace and quiet.
The problem was that once she was alone, she started to spiral. Part of her said there was surely no way Jamie was about to propose. A dark voice in her head agreed with Geillis though. Claire loved Jamie. She loved him more than anyone she’d ever been with. But she wasn’t ready for them to get married. There were so many other steps she envisioned them taking before they got to that point. They’d only been together for four months. It was simply too damn soon for him to be expecting them to make that step.
Claire tried to make herself busy before Jamie got home. She cleaned and started to make dinner, hoping it would take her mind off Geillis’s arguments. Her endeavor was only moderately successful. By the time Jamie got home, she had managed to push it maybe an inch or two back in her mind.
Claire tried to seem normal all throughout dinner. Jamie had thankfully had an eventful day which led to him talking about it all as they ate. They were having an easy night in, like most nights. It couldn’t require Claire to talk too much. Her mind was still reeling over the possibilities of this precious cargo.
She was sitting on the couch next to Jamie, barely paying attention to the movie they were watching. Jamie looked over at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Are ye alright, Sassenach?” Claire turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows in response. “Ye’ve just been a bit quiet this evening is all.”
Claire shrugged. “I’m just a bit tired, I think.”
Jamie chuckled. “But ye had the day off.”
“Well it was a draining week. I guess it just caught up with me,” she lied. He watched her for a moment before he nodded, either in understanding or because he wasn’t going to push her further. Jamie reached over to grab a pillow before putting it in his lap. Claire understood his meaning, meeting his gaze with a smile. She laid her head down on the pillow, allowing him to provide her comfort. His hand was quickly in her hair, massaging her head. It helped her relax. As she laid there, curled up with the man she loved, she started to forget the anxiety that had been plaguing her since the afternoon.
When she went back to work that weekend, a potential proposal was the furthest thing from her mind. Monday and Tuesday also, blessedly, left her distracted enough that her mind never cycled back to it. Her days were filled with normalcy, not with thoughts that left her spiraling and unsure.
But then Wednesday came. And with Wednesday’s arrival brought Ian’s arrival. Claire was still at the hospital when she got Jamie’s text saying that Ian would be there by dinner time. At first she was excited. She and Ian had always gotten along very well. They often bonded over the crazy Frasers, even if they were both madly devoted to them. As she started to think of what Ian’s visit might be like, the thought of what he was bringing with him returned.
Suddenly, Claire’s stomach was tied in knots again. It would be one thing if it was a ring and Jamie just planned to hold onto it for a long time. There were no guarantees though. What would happen if Jamie thought they were ready for marriage and Claire didn’t? What if he proposed and she said, “No, not yet.” Would they survive that? There was no way Jamie would just bounce right back and be alright with her rejection, even if it was really just a raincheck.
Claire sat down on the bench in the doctors’ locker room and closed her eyes. What would happen to them? She knew without a doubt that she didn’t have a future without Jamie. He had to be in her life. But she also knew without a doubt that she wasn’t ready for him to propose yet. Claire shook her head with a huff before she stood up to leave the hospital.
By the time she got to Jamie’s flat, her mind had spiraled and come back to reason so many times she had mental whiplash. All she really wanted was the comfort of Jamie’s presence, even if his theoretical actions were the ones causing her trouble.
Opening the door, she heard Jamie greet her. Claire set her purse on the floor and walked with purpose over to him before she pinned him against his fridge and kissed him senseless. His hands quickly found her waist as he eagerly responded. Her tongue was in his mouth when she heard and felt him moan as he pulled her closer. The small part of her brain that could form thought hoped they had enough time before Ian got there to really act on this. Her hands strayed to pull up his shirt when someone cleared their throat behind her. Reluctantly, Claire pulled away from Jamie and turned to see Ian standing by Jamie’s couch wearing an amused grin. Claire quickly pulled her hands off of Jamie and ran a hand nervously down her scrub top. “Sorry,” she said in a quiet voice.
Ian laughed. “No worries. I remember a time like that before I had five children.”
“I didn’t realize you were here yet,” Claire explained.
“To be fair, ye didna ask,” Jamie reminded her.
She turned back and looked at him. “Are you complaining?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
She shook her head with a matching grin. “Anyway, hi Ian. How was your trip down?”
Ian shrugged. “Uneventful. Bit light on the food though. The two of ye wouldna by chance also be starving?”
Jamie and Claire both chuckled. “Yes, let’s go eat,” Claire offered. “Just let me change out of my scrubs first.” Both men nodded and she walked off toward Jamie’s room. She had at least a few outfits stashed there. Their voices carried back to Jamie’s room as she scurried around to look more presentable.
“Oh wait, I have something for ye,” she heard Ian say.
“Oh right! Thanks for bringing that, by the way,” Jamie replied.
Claire froze. She took a few deep breaths before she resumed changing. “It doesn’t mean it’s a ring,” she whispered to herself. “It could be anything. It doesn’t even have to be for me.”
“Claire, ye about ready?” Jamie called back to her.
She decided to leave her hair up in the very messy bun. Shaking her head to clear it, she strode out to go eat with the other two.
Entertaining conversations with Ian and Jamie were a good distraction from the anxiety eating away at her stomach. By the time they all got back to Jamie’s flat, she’d calmed down again, though the thoughts still lingered at the back of her mind.
It wasn’t until Friday night that the full weight of her thoughts had consequences.
Claire entered her home, surprised by the smell of garlic wafting through the air. She inhaled deeply, greatly appreciating the smell. Even more than that, she appreciated the sight of Jamie standing at her stove, cooking for her. As she walked up behind him, she laced her arms around his waist. He startled slightly before turning around to hug her properly. “Hi,” she greeted simply. Jamie’s reply was in his kiss.
Jamie turned off the stove and plated the pasta for them. Claire wandered to find the bottle of wine she knew she’d hidden. Their food was on the table and dinner was seconds away when Jamie grabbed Claire’s hand and directed her toward the couch instead. Confused, she followed him without comment. He sat down with an excited look on his face and motioned for her to sit next to him.
“So before Ian left to go back to Scotland, he left me with something that I wanted to give to ye,” he explained. Claire’s stomach tightened. This was the moment she’d been dreading since Jenny had told her about it a week ago. No matter how many times she’d dwelled on it, Claire had never come to a conclusion of what she would do if Jamie proposed. Her mind was battling itself as he talked. Part of her was yelling for him not to do it, the other was constantly repeating that it wasn’t a ring. She was missing what he was saying. “This was very important to me and so I wanted it to be yers.” Jamie stood up slightly, pulling a small jewelry box from his pocket. “Claire, -”
“No, Jamie, don’t do it!” Claire bellowed at him before she could stop herself.
Jamie froze, staring down at her in confusion. “What?”
She looked at the box he’d just opened, a sigh escaping her. “Oh my god, they’re just earrings.”
He watched her, a realization dawning on his face. “Ye thought it was a ring?”
Claire shrugged. “Maybe a little,” she reached for the box, “But -” Jamie cut her off as he snapped the box back shut. He backed away from the couch, shaking his head. “Jamie…” she said, hoping to figure out what he was thinking.
He turned back to look at her, pain clear on his face. “Ye thought I was proposing.” Claire opened her mouth to explain but he continued. “Ye thought I was proposing and that was yer reaction?”
“Oh God,” Claire cried, dropping her head into her hands. “No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Well then tell me what it was like, Claire,” Jamie demanded, a hard edge to his voice that she wasn’t used to. “Because I may not have been proposing now, but I rather figured if I ever did I’d get a better reaction than that.”
“It’s just too soon!” Claire explained in a small voice. “I was scared that you were proposing too soon.”
Jamie shook his head. “I was giving ye my mother’s earrings. But, Christ, forget that now.” Claire let out a small gasp. “Would it have really been that bad if I had been proposing?”
“Jamie, we’ve only been together for four months,” Claire reminded him.
“I realize that,” he replied. “But I also ken that we’re no’ a normal couple. I mean it’s no’ as though we met four months ago and started from zero. I basically know everything about ye and ye wi’ me. And yet ye feel the need to scream at me to stop me? What if I had been actually proposing? How do ye think that would have gone?”
Claire sighed, sinking further into the couch. “I don’t know. I never said it was a brilliant plan. I just freaked out.”
Jamie ran a hand down his face. “I never really thought that if I’d propose to ye, ye’d freak out. I thought we wanted the same things.”
Panic coursed through Claire at that statement. She stood up, walking towards him. At her first step in his direction, he took a step back. “We do. Of course we want the same things.”
“Do we? I ken it’s early into this, but I see us getting there. Do ye?” Jamie asked her, his voice breaking at the end.
Her eyes were filling with tears. “Yes. Someday. But it’s too soon now. I mean, I was with Frank for three years and I would have married him. It wasn’t until the last several months of our relationship that it seemed so terrible.”
Mentioning Frank was clearly the wrong move. Jamie’s eyes went wide. “Well, Christ, I didna realize our relationship would be ye holding that man’s faults on me. Frank may have been a controlling, unsupportive prick, but that doesna mean I am as well. Ye’ve said yerself that what we have is different.”
“I know it is, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for marriage already. We’ve never even talked about it,” Claire defended. “Look, why don’t we just forget about this and eat dinner?”
Jamie shook his head. “I’m no’ hungry anymore.” With a sigh he took a few steps toward the door. “I need to think.”
“No, Jamie, don’t leave,” Claire pleaded, meeting him at the door. “Please.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I just canna be here right now.” Without a look back at her, he opened the door and was gone.
Claire stood there, frozen, unable to believe what had happened that evening. If anyone had asked her, she’d have said that she and Jamie pretty much had a perfect relationship. How in the span of a few minutes had he just left? How had she fucked things up so badly that he needed to think? She felt the tears stream down her face moments before she slid down the door.
An undetermined amount of time had passed when Claire realized she was halfway through the bottle of wine she’d opened. Still berating herself for the mess she’d gotten them into, she picked up her phone to share the misery. Deciding to text Geillis, she typed out her frustration into a single message. It read: fuck you.
It wasn’t long before Geillis called Claire, hoping to discover the true meaning behind the text. When Claire answered in tears, barely able to speak, Geillis quickly ended the call by saying she was coming over.
Another glass of wine later, Geillis and Louise let themselves into her flat. Claire sat on the floor between her couch and coffee table as she was still sobbing. It had been a constant stream since Jamie had left. Louise knelt down next to Claire, concern clear on her face. “Claire, what happened?”
“Why don’t you ask Geillis? It’s all her fault,” Claire said, her voice dripping with disdain as she glared at her friend.
“Is this because of what we talked about last week?” Geillis asked hesitantly.
Claire nodded, wiping tears from her face.
Louise looked back at Geillis. “What happened?”
“I told Claire I thought Jamie was going to propose, based on something I heard his sister say to Claire,” Geillis explained.
Louise looked over at Claire. “Did he?” Claire shook her head. “So what happened then? I’m very confused.”
Claire clutched her wine glass tighter to her as she told her friends all that had been said. She watched as both their faces fell. “I think it might be over,” Claire let herself voice. She closed her eyes as more tears streamed down her face. “I’ve called and texted him a ton of times since he called and he hasn’t responded once.”
“Well that’s the first problem,” Louise said, grabbing Claire’s phone from her. “Geillis, go hide this,” she added, handing the phone off to the other woman.
“Why?” Claire begged. “I need my phone. I need to talk to Jamie!”
“No, you need to let Jamie think. He’s just going to get irritated if he is trying to process his feelings and you keep calling him every other minute,” Louise insisted. “Now, how much have you had to drink?”
Claire huffed. “A lot.”
“Maybe we should switch to water,” Louise offered.
“No!” Claire cried, hiding her glass from Louise. Geillis walked back in the room as Claire curled her legs into herself. “I really fucked this up,” Claire whispered. “I can’t lose Jamie. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.” She dropped her head to her knees. “What am I going to do?”
Louise ran a hand comfortingly up and down Claire’s back. “You’re going to be fine. If anything, this is just a fight. Just a misunderstanding that got a bit out of control. But it’s you and Jamie. You guys are perfect for each other. I promise you this isn’t over.”
“Yeah, well Geillis promised me that Jamie had a ring. And not only was she wrong, but she got in my head and made me get freaked out,” Claire reminded them. “So I’m sorry if I’m not buying your promises.”
She took another long drink of wine as her friends exchanged a concerned glance over her head.
~~~
“Jamie, we were so thrilled ye asked us out tonight,” Rupert greeted with a cheery voice. “It was shaping up to be a boring evening.” Angus nodded next to him.
Jamie looked up at them, already a couple of drinks in. “Sit,” he ordered. He noticed the shock on Rupert’s face at his tone. A quick look exchanged between Rupert and Angus showed their concern before they joined Jamie in the booth.
“So, uh, where is Claire this evening?” Rupert ventured.
“I dinna want to talk about Claire,” Jamie replied gruffly.
Another concerned look was shared between Jamie’s companions. “Christ, did ye break up?” Angus asked.
“No.”
“Well then what happened?” Rupert pressed.
“Honestly, I dinna ken,” Jamie answered. “It was supposed to be a good evening and it all blew up.”
“Did she cheat on ye?” Angus asked in a menacing tone. “Because if she did, I’ll -”
“No,” Jamie assured him. “No, she just…” he sighed, trying to find the right words. “She just broke my heart a bit.”
Rupert clapped him on the shoulder. “Well are we to drink about it?”
“Aye, we are.”
Both men nodded, Angus jumped up to get the newcomers both their first round. The three of them drank in silence for a while. Angus and Rupert seemed to cautious to push Jamie for the details. As it was, Jamie didn’t have the words to really express what had happened. He hadn’t been about to propose, but she’d still wrecked him.
Finally, Jamie spoke. “Have ye ever thought ye kent exactly where ye were headed only to be thrown for a loop?”
Rupert cleared his throat. “I suppose all of us have at some point, aye.”
“I never thought I’d have it happen with Claire,” Jamie admitted. “I thought if we figured it out and got together, it would be fine. I never expected for her to…” He stopped and shook his head before taking a long drink of his beer. “I thought I knew how things would go between us, but I guess I was wrong. Now I’m just sitting here, reevaluating it all. At what point did she zig while I zagged?”
“I thought ye said ye didna break up?” Rupert asked.  
“We haven’t. But I’m jus’ no’ sure we want the same things. And I canna imagine having less than that wi’ her,” Jamie explained, a stray tear escaping his eye. He shook his head. “And now I feel I’ll worry that at any time she’ll just change her mind.” Rupert’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something but Jamie stopped him. “No, let’s just drink. I dinna want to talk about Claire right now. It’s best for me to try and take my mind off of it.”
Angus and Rupert nodded next to him. “Alright, then let’s drink,” Rupert said, raising his glass.
~~~
Claire had consumed far too much alcohol when Louise shoved a glass of water into her hands. She still hadn’t moved from her place on the floor. Geillis was sitting on the couch behind her and Louise had stayed on the floor next to Claire. The sound of a key in the door got Claire’s hopes up. But as she looked up, it wasn’t Jamie that entered her home. It was John. His eyes went wide as he saw Claire’s state. “Umm...what the hell is going on? Is Jamie here?” he asked.
Louise shook her head, but it was Geillis who spoke. “Dear God, dinna say the “J” word!”
John looked confused. “Seriously, what is going on? Claire looks miserable and further gone than I’ve ever seen her and I got a really strange call from Jamie.”
Claire looked up at him again, desperation coursing through her. “You’ve heard from Jamie? Where is he?”
“Honestly, I don’t know where he is,” John said, kneeling on the other side of the coffee table. “I tried his flat but he wasn’t there. I figured he was here but apparently not.”
“What was weird about his call?” Louise asked.
“He called and said he wanted to fight someone so he could feel something,” John recalled for them with a grim expression. Both Louise and Geillis grimaced at the story.
“Goodness,” Louise remarked. “Wait, was he going to fight you?”
John laughed. “No, actually. He said he knows my brother is a jerk and so he wanted to fight him so that he won’t feel bad about it when he sobers up.”
Claire felt fresh tears roll down her face but she couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh. “That’s actually quite sound logic,” she admitted.
“Okay, so what happened?” John asked, looking at Claire.
She shook her head, unwilling to relive it all again. Louise rubbed a hand against her back and told John the story. “Really, it was all just a big misunderstanding,” Louise concluded. “But we can’t go find Jamie because we have our hands a bit full here.”
“I need to find him,” Claire announced, trying and failing to stand up.
“No, Claire, ye need to sleep,” Geillis said, urging her back to the floor. “Ye’re bound to have a wicked hangover tomorrow and ye’ll not help it trying to bounce around London in yer condition.”
“I can’t sleep without setting things right between us,” Claire cried.
“Look Claire, in your state, and surely in Jamie’s, things aren’t going to be fixed tonight,” Louise said regretfully. “But you can sleep off your drunkenness and allow Jamie to do the same.”
“I don’t even know where he is.”
Louise took a deep breath. “Well here’s what we’ll do then,” she offered. “You’ll go to sleep, because as Geillis said, you’re in no shape to go anywhere right now. And John will go find Jamie and he will make sure that he gets home safely and is taken care of. You trust John to do that, right?”
Claire eyed John with a critical look. “I guess.”
John flashed a small smile as he stood up. “Good idea, Louise. Yes, I’ll go find Jamie and make sure he gets his rest too. You just worry about yourself right now, Claire. I’ll see you soon.” He mouthed “good luck” to Louise and Geillis before he walked back out Claire’s door.
Claire’s friends succeeded in convincing her to go to bed. Wine didn’t usually make her tired, but after the amount of glasses she’d had, she was starting to fade. It was a couple of hours later when she startled herself awake. Claire wasn’t sure she’d actually slept. Looking over at her nightstand, she wished her friends had thought to leave her a glass of water. Stumbling, she crawled out of her bed and walked toward her kitchen. It was the moment that she turned on the lights that she started to sober up a bit. A small screech came from the couch. “No lights!”
Claire was frozen in place though. “Jamie?” she asked, not believing it was really him.
“Aye. Please turn off the lights.”
Claire nodded, reaching back to flip the switch. She turned on a small lamp by the wall and crept over to the couch. He was laying there with his eyes closed and a pained expression on his face. Kneeling down on the floor, she fought her instinct to lay her hands on him. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you again. This evening, I mean.”
Jamie didn’t open his eyes as he spoke. “John found me and told me I had to go home. He pushed me in a cab and told the cabbie to take me home. I canna really explain it, but I gave him this address. Even as things are, I didna want to spend the night apart. But when I got here, I didna think I was ready to go join ye in bed. So here I am.”
Fresh tears were rolling down Claire’s cheeks. “I understand that.” She took a deep breath and released it before trying to speak again. “Look, I’m quite drunk still and I’m assuming you are too, but I need to explain myself as best I can. I don’t expect it to magically fix everything, but I have to try. That is, if you’ll allow me.” He nodded slightly, his eyes still closed.
Claire sat down on the floor, laying a hand on the couch, close to his arm. Close, but not touching. “I’m terribly sorry, Jamie. I know I hurt you and I can’t really forgive myself for it. But I just got scared. It felt like it was too soon. Geillis insisted that it surely was a ring and somehow my mind believed her even when logically, I knew it wouldn’t be. I panicked because we’ve never even talked about marriage and we’ve only been together for a matter of months. I should have just waited to see what it was and not screamed like I did. And more than that, I should have trusted that you wouldn’t try to take steps in our relationship without knowing we were both ready for it.”
“Aye, ye should have,” he said in a small voice.
“Let me be clear about something though,” Claire continued. “I was not scared by the idea of marrying you. I didn’t stop you because we want different things. I may not be ready for us to get married right now, but when I think of my wedding someday, it’s you standing up there with me. I love you, James Fraser. I want all that with you, I just don’t want us to jump the gun and miss all the steps before that rather large one.”
His eyes opened slightly, peering at her through his lashes. “I can understand that,” he admitted.
“Good,” she replied, a reluctant smile crossing her face. “I’m sorry that I ever mentioned Frank. But I hope you know that I do not hold his shortcomings on you. You are a better man that he could ever hope to be and I promise you I know that with every fiber of my being.” She reached out to lay her hand on his cheek. “I’m truly sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you this evening. Or all the doubts I’ve made you have. I have been here, scared out of my mind that I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Because that’s what you are, Jamie.”
She saw a small tear leak from his eye and she brushed it away with the pad of her thumb. “I’m going to go back to bed. But I won’t ask you to join me. You’re welcome there, though, whenever you feel that you’re ready.” She stood up and laid a quick kiss on his forehead. “I love you,” she whispered. Continuing with her initial plan, she walked over to get herself a glass of water. She grabbed a second glass, filled it, and left it on the table for Jamie.
Claire took a long drink of her water and crawled back into bed. Even though she’d said all that she needed to, she still couldn’t fight the tears that flowed down her cheeks. They felt off kilter and they had always been solid. It was her fault. If she’d talked to him instead of leaning into her fears, they could have avoided all the pain of the evening.
Claire was curled in on herself, tears still streaming, when she heard the door to her bedroom open. The other side of the bed shifted as Jamie laid down next to her. She turned over, looking at him in disbelief. There was a hesitancy between them that had never been there before. They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Jamie lifted up his arm, gesturing for her. She released a sob as she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. His arms came down to hold her tightly to him.
Neither of them said anything, simply holding each other. It was enough, though. He’d come home and he’d come to bed. It may not be perfect and it certainly wasn’t all settled, but Claire felt peace as she laid in his arms and fell asleep.
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riverdalepoet · 5 years
Text
ALL I EVER WANTED (part 2)
PAIRINGS: Sweet Pea and OC (Emma Carter Wilson), Kevin and Fangs, Toni and Cheryl, Betty and Jughead
Warnings: language and suggestive themes
WORD COUNT: 3052
A/N: I own nothing.
The first few months after bringing Carter home were disastrous. Our tiny cottage, that barely managed to support the two of us, was bursting at the seams with our new addition. Piles of dirty burp rags and onesies threatened our sanity daily, no matter how many loads of laundry we battled. Nights of mindless shushing and swaying and begging our little boy to sleep for longer than twenty two seconds left us weary.  But sweet gurgles and drooly grins from our son kept us going with dreamy smiles ever present on our faces.
               Slowly, we find our flow.  Out of the blue, Carter blesses us with a manageable sleeping schedule, giving us all the fuel we needed.  The mountain of laundry becomes less intimidating, as our home adjusts to our new family of three.
               Sweet Pea, notoriously recognized for being hard as stone, was a puddle of mush when it came to Carter.  I spent much of my mornings, admiring them both as Pea has our little guy tucked carefully in his arms.  Today is no exception.  My place in the bed provides a picturesque view of my two guys cuddled up in the living room.  My husband lays sprawled out on the couch in his sweats, with Carter curled up against his bare shoulder, both facing the television set.  Sweets shared his love for Saturday morning Westerns from the very beginning with our baby.  When I was pregnant, and getting kicked and attacked from the little boy inside, Pea would turn on Bonanza or whatever he could find, and Carter would calm down immediately, giving me instant relief.
               “Listen here, little guy, if anyone ever tells you that John Wayne is overrated, you just hit them.  No questions, just sock em right in the jaw.  You don’t want to befriend anyone with those standards,” he spoke eagerly to a very attentive four month old.  In response, Carter giggled and flailed his little fists, swiping Sweets in the process. Pea turned Carter around and lifted him in the air before peppering his cheeks with noisy kisses. “Easy now slugger, you don’t get to hit me. I’m on your side.”
               I couldn’t stand it any longer, and pulled myself out of bed.  I padded swiftly across the floor and stole my baby from Sweet Pea’s arms, twirling him around.  “Are you fighting with Daddy already? Huh?  Don’t worry, Mommy likes to fight him, too.”
               “Mmm, yep.  And that’s how you got here, buddy,” he responded, lifting himself off the couch to kiss the top of my head.  
               Carter gurgled happily from my arms, and I turned my attention back to my little dark haired, dark eyed clone of my husband. “Daddy thinks he’s funny.”
               He laughed and slapped my butt before making his way to the kitchen to start the coffee pot.  I  grabbed the outfit I laid out for Carter and started to wrestle him into it.  “Em?” Pea called
               “Yeah?”
               “What time is everybody coming over today?”
               “Oh, well, Betty said she and Jones were going to come around three to help us set everything up.”
               “Really?” he asked, reaching for two mugs and for my favorite creamer.  “They don’t have to do that.”
                 I was having a hard time wrangling the wiggle worm into his little pants, but managed to reply.  “Yeah well, it’s Betty.  That’s kind of her thing.” He nods as he sets my cup on the table beside me.  “Toni and Cheryl will be here at four, and the rest of them around five, I think.  Oh, except Fangs.  He text me this morning, and said he’d be a little late.  You think he’ll bring Jonathan?”
               “Oh Christ, I hope not.  Didn’t you say Kevin was coming too?” He reached for the remote, and clicked off the t.v. before starting to fold the laundry.
               “I mean, I invited him, obviously, but I honestly don’t know.  I hope he does, I miss him. And he hasn’t met Carter yet.”
               “Maybe he’ll show up.  If not, we’ll hunt him down tomorrow.  I know Betty will help us corner him.” He threw me a wink and a fresh bib from the pile of clothes. I fastened the bib and set Carter down gently in his swing so I could get a few things done to prepare for tonight’s dinner.
               Sweet Pea may have marked our son with his love for older movies, but I passed something other than my fair complexion to him, as well.  He loved my old records, and often fell asleep swinging happily along to Jimmy Reed. Hoping he would get a good nap in, I turned on the record player.  Before “Ain’t That Loving You Baby” was over, he was out, and I breathed a sigh of relief, slipping off to take a shower while I could.  
               It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, and Sweet Pea slipped in behind me.  “Can I help you?” I laugh when he yanks the bottle of shampoo out of my hands. “Yes, you can. Turn back around.”
               “Truly, I don’t know why you insist on doing this these days.  I can wash my own hair, you know.” I joked, but hoped that he wouldn’t stop massaging my scalp.
               “Remember that time you had my baby?” He hummed, continuing to lather the shampoo.
               He had me in such a trance, I had to remind myself to respond. “Oh yeah, vividly.”
               “That’s why.”  That was a good enough answer for me, so I shrugged, and let him continue. Much too soon, the water turned cold and the list of everything we needed to do popped back into my brain. Reluctantly, we dried off, got dressed, and started bustling around the house as quietly as possible.  
Keeping the records playing as Carter slept worked wonders, buying us two hours of uninterrupted work.  By the time, he started moving around I had the food prepped and ready to go.  Sweet Pea had finished with the house, and had it smelling as fresh as lemons.  However long that lasted was up to our son.
               He played happily on his mat with a few of his favorite toys in front of him while we got ready.  I had a hard time picking out what to wear.  My post- baby body was nothing like it used to be, and none of my clothes looked right.  I was starting to panic when Sweet Pea wrapped me up in his arms, and told me to stop. A few kisses and sexual innuendos later, and I was, surprisingly, feeling a little better. With his help, I finally settled on something that didn’t make me feel entirely uncomfortable. If Sweet Pea, had it his way, I’d walk around in one of his t-shirts 24/7, but he knew how important tonight was to me.
               Feeling a little nervous, I laid back against the pillows and watched Sweets get dressed.  The crinkle that formed between his eyebrows while he was trying to decide something always made me giggle.  He wasn’t always the careful one.  In high school, Sweet Pea was notorious for his short fuse and quick reflexes.  As the years went on and a few bits of rage bit him in the ass, he mellowed out and learned something I never thought he would- patience. These days he’s very meticulous and intentional with each decision he makes, no matter how small. That’s not to say he’s no longer useful to the Serpents.  Anything something needs to be handled, Sweet Pea is calculated and lethal in every situation.
Soon enough, there was steady knock on our front door.  Sweet Pea pulled his shirt over his head and ushered our guests inside.  Carter squealed when Betty scooped him up and bounced him around.  Jughead handed me a bottle of wine before taking his usual seat on the couch.  After Betty had her fill of cooing at Carter, she dropped him into Jughead’s reluctant arms and turned to me, clasping her hands together. “Where do you want me, Em?”
“I hate to spoil your fun, but I think we’ve just about got everything ready.” I looked around the kitchen and remembered, “Oh, we can go ahead and get the table set, and maybe plate some of the finger foods.  I know our dudes are probably already starving.”
“Right,” she replied militantly, and went straight to work.  I squeezed her into a one- armed hug when the work was done, and all that was left to do was relax and wait for people to arrive. “Thanks, Betts, I couldn’t have done this without you.” She smiled in response, and went to join the boys in the living room.  
“Does anyone know if Kevin’s coming tonight,” I ask pointedly to Betty.  
She hesitates, stealing a glance at her husband before answering, “Have you heard if Fangs is bringing Jonathan?”
“Unbelievable.  He told you to check if the coast was clear, didn’t he?” She avoided my glare, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her skirt. “Okay, no, I don’t know.  I have no earthly idea.  I just know that I want Kevin here. I know he’s still upset, and I get that, but Carter is four months old.  He hasn’t even tried to come meet him,” I huff, trying my hardest to let it go…and failing.  “You know what- enough is enough! You tell Mr. Keller that if he doesn’t have both feet on my porch by 5:15 pm, I will come to his house, and I will drag him out by his teeth if I have to, got it? Fangs and Jonathan be damned.”
Jughead and Sweet Pea exchange nervous looks, but Betty nods and immediately types my message out to Kevin.  Her phone dings in reply almost immediately, and she chuckled.  “Done and done.  He says he’s hopping in the shower now.”
Sweet Pea shakes his head and leaves to grab drinks for Jughead and himself.  “If that one can’t light a fire under somebody and get them moving, nobody can.  Freaking drill sergeant, I swear.”
Just as I wave my middle finger at him in retaliation, Cheryl and Toni walk in.
“Geez,” Toni laughs, “Parenthood has no peaceful effect on you two, does it?”
“No, no.  We still fight like cats and dogs, it’s just now we do it with a baby on my boob or in my arms.” I smile and stand up to hug them both.  “How was the trip?”
Cheryl sets a pile of presents on the table by the door, and gushes.  “Tres bien, per usual.  Now where’s our little nephew?” She looks around our living room before zeroing in on him bouncing on Jug’s knee.
Toni follows suit and crosses the floor to snatch Carter up.  He grins as she holds him high, looking him over.  “Well, aren’t you the spitting image of your bone-headed daddy.”
We both ignored Pea’s “I heard that” from the kitchen. I nodded in response, expecting as much.  “It’s insane, right? They’re identical.”
“Wait until he pouts,” Sweets interrupts, pulling me to sit on his lap. “His bottom lip pokes out, and if you pay him attention right then, he throws a full on fit.  That’s all his mama.”
I heave a  sigh, and melt into his strong hold.  “Why are you the way that you are? I earn a few laughs with my Office reference, and we all fall into comfortable conversation.  I notice how eager and attentive Sweets and I both seem, and chalk it up to us both missing the excitement of adult conversations.
Soon enough, more people pile in.  The buzz of friendly voices and the savory scent of our dinner that’s nearly done makes me smile.  Having our friends here- basking in the cuteness that is Carter James, and filling every bit of our home and hearts makes me feel whole.  I fight back the happy tears that the hormones are supplying, and go to open the door, when I hear a timid knock.  As promised, Kevin Keller stands at my door with flowers in hand, and a guilty expression heavy on his brow.  All my resolve melts at the sight of him, and I burst, pitifully, into tears.
Sweet Pea, not able to see who was standing on the other side of the screen door from his place on the chair, was on his feet in second flats.  He hesitates, seeing Kevin scrambling to calm me down.  Fighting every instinct I know he had, my husband merely crosses his arm, and fixes his hard stare on Kevin’s nervous face.  Kevin merely nods at Sweet Pea, and ushers me out on the porch with him and into a chair.
“You’re mad at me,” he says softly after a few moments.  
I choke out a small laugh through the tears and swallow the remaining sobs. “I’ve missed you…and I’m hormonal.  So this isn’t all you, I promise.”
He leans back against the house, and stares out towards the road as I calm down. Kevin and I got really close when he and Fangs were together.  Having boyfriends that were attached at the hip didn’t really leave us much of a choice. Kevin was there when Sweet Pea proposed, keeping my soon- to -be husband from hitting the bottle too heavy to fight his nerves.  He was beside me at my wedding, managing, miraculously, to keep an unruly group of groomsmen in check. He was the third person we told when I got pregnant, and was just as excited as we were.
Sometime in my second trimester, he and Fangs decided to go their separate ways, and Kevin quit coming around. Shortly after the split, Fangs introduced us to Jonathan.  I remember that day pretty vividly.  Sweet Pea tried his best to diffuse the situation, knowing by my shaking leg that something was about to happen.  I kept my composure, right until Jonathan mouthed off something about ‘that tragic ex of Fangs’’. I ignored the sharp hiss of Sweet Pea’s warning, and whirled around quickly.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”  There was no stopping me.  I let him have it, banned him from my home until he learned how to act like an adult, and even gave Fangs a good cuss-out by the time it was over.  During my whole tirade, Sweet Pea sat at the kitchen table with wide eyes and his fist resting against his chin, knowing that it was better for all of us to let me get it all out.  It took a few months for Fangs to come around after that. I regret nothing.
“I haven’t been doing so well, Em,” Kevin muttered, pulling me back from the flashback.  “I know that’s no excuse, and I will do better.  It’s just, I don’t know what to do at this point. I still feel so stuck.”
I took a few steadying breaths, and stood up to loop my arm through his.  “I can’t tell you what you need to do.  I can’t fix it for you, and I hate that, because I wish that I could.  But what I can do is make sure you know that this house is open anytime you need it to be. I have a comfy sofa, a cuddly baby, plenty of comfort food, and a pot of coffee that can be ready in five minutes flat.”
He smiled, and ran his hand through his hair, “I like the sound of that.”
“I hoped you would say that.  Now can we please go inside and eat?”
“Yes, let’s go, hot mama,” he chuckled and pulled me with him into my house. Carter and Kevin were fast friends, and they stayed glued together until dinner was ready.  Around six, Fangs did show up, finally.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Jonathan was not at his side, and pretended not to notice the bashful glances he threw at Kevin for the most of the night.
Our evening was winding down, our child was passed out, and our friends were slowly making their way out the door.  I made sure to pack leftovers for those that thought that a burger from Pops was a home- cooked meal, and threw a few extra helpings in the bowl that would be leaving with Fangs.  He reached over the counter to take it, but I quickly grabbed his hand, effectively catching his full attention.  “Where’s Jonathan?”
He laughed nervously and shrugged, leaning against the cabinets, “Who knows, who cares.”
I quirked my eyebrow, considering what that might mean for a possible reconciliation with Kevin.  “Noted… I packed enough food to feed you for two days.  This is not to be eaten in one sitting, Franklin Fogarty, ok?”  All he offered in response was a half- hearted ‘yeah- yeah’.
“Also, I saw you.” With that, I cleared the rest of the counter top, and breezed past him into the living room.  He followed me, clearly caught off guard by my accusation.
“Saw me what?” I reached for the remote only to have it ripped from my hand by my leather clad pal.
“Well that was rude.”  He pursed his lips and waited. I let his agitation stew before a small, mischievous grin spread across my face.  “I saw you looking at Kevin.”  To my surprise, he didn’t deny it.  In fact, he provided no response except for a sly wink and a quick hug goodbye.
My mind was racing with the possibilities when Sweets dropped on the couch beside me, resting his feet on the coffee table, despite my constant begging for him not to do that.  “Little man’s in bed.  I don’t think he’ll be waking up too much tonight.”
I grinned, sleepily, and cuddled into my husband’s warm side.  “Yeah, he’s all played out.  We should have people over every night.”  Sweet Pea placed a kiss on the top of my head and agreed. We fell asleep that way, not bothering to make the short journey to our bed.  I was scared if I moved a muscle, I would disturb this incredible feeling of gratitude that was pulsing through my body.
I meant what I said wholeheartedly.  If I had it my way, nights like these- gentle reminders that we were loved and in good company- would be plenty.  
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finderskeepersff · 5 years
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67.
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Sofia woke me early, she got heartburn and she can’t sleep but I am taking her to get something for it. Rubbing my eyes still half asleep waiting downstairs, mind you I have been awake since six in the morning, it’s just turned eight and she keeps on saying she is coming down. I think she ate too much on Christmas but it’s going to be busy out there, day after Christmas “he likes me now, see this” Jasmine said as she walked in with Cartier “I am glad he does” I am too tired to care “is she ok? She seems very irritated, Sofia that is” clearing my throat “she got heartburn, so we going to get somethings. I am taking her, I don’t want her driving so I woke up” Jasmine cooed out “really playing the husband role ain’t you, that is cute” I grinned “well she woke me before and I was like I am going back to sleep and then she did it again so I was like she is in real pain so I better get her something” Cartier is so calm now “you going to be ok with him?” Jasmine nodded her head “of course I will, I love my nephew. You know..” Jasmine dragged off “Celine was saying you still give her money” nodding my head “for my nephew, he needs the help. I still watch that bitch and I am happy with what I see, she is getting the help for his Autism, he looks happy. He is happier away from us, he needs his mother and you know” I sighed out “she needed him” Jasmine smiled “you right” she said in a whisper “I am here, let’s go. Jasmine, just give his breakfast if we are not back within twenty minutes, we shouldn’t be long so thank you for waking up for him” getting up from the couch “don’t answer the door for anyone, I don’t expect anyone” pulling my jeans up “put a coat on, it’s cold out there” nodding my head, Sofia is babying me with what to wear.
This is why I didn’t want Sofia driving, with the snow and all that. It’s hard driving out here with the ice “you ain’t lying when you said it was cold, luckily your car got heated seats” looking over at Sofia “that’s because of you, thank you baby” placing my hand on Sofia’ thigh “you know me, I got to make sure you good when driving but shit like this I want to drive you. I can’t have you doing this alone. You got me” Sofia placed her hand over mine “and I am happy you are with me. I am excited about Canada baby, oh my god. Our little family seeing the New Year together also the dresses you got were perfect, did you pick them out yourself?” I paused “well, would be lying if I said I did it alone. The store assistant helped and then I said you are pregnant so she said get a size bigger, I guess it worked out” someone honked their horn behind me, looking in my rear-view mirror “who is that?” Sofia said looking behind us “I don’t know, the fuck he honking at” seeing the car coming up around me, stopping the car and putting the window down “Cassius leave it” sticking my head out “who you honking at?” there is two guys in the car, white too. Their eyes diverted “Cass” feeling Sofia’ hand on my arm, I sped up the car and cut them off. Opening the car door “Cassius, seriously!?” Sofia spat, jumping out of the car “who you honking at!?” the white guys started to reverse back “fucking pussy” they sped off “I hate people like that!” walking back to my car “get back in the car, you was probably driving slow” climbing back into the car “I don’t give a shit, fucking pussy” they will learn not to honk at me.
I am not having a good day on the road today, like niggas can’t drive for shit. I abruptly stopped as another car was about to take the parking spot “Cassius, please leave it. We can park somewhere” Sofia said but I’m not about to do that “you finna move!” he spat, now he spoke I refuse “I am tired” opening the car door, I am tired of niggas today “stay in the car!” I shouted at Sofia while closing the car door “what did you say?, I couldn’t hear through the window” the guy got out of the car also “I said move your car” I am taller than him “and who is going to make me move it, you saw me coming my nigga. You being spiteful” this nigga is squaring up to me “I don’t care about your fancy car, you move it!” I moved back a little as he pushed me, I didn’t want to fight “Cassius, please leave it” Sofia said “listen to her” looking at him, he mean mugged me and I wasn’t about to just take it, I head-butted him and gripped his tee “I said!” stuffing him back in his car “fucking move your car! Now! Before I fucking kill you and your white bitch” the guy held his nose “fucking move it!” grabbing the back of his head and bought his head forward to hit his head on the steering wheel “get here now!” Sofia grabbed my coat “I know your face now” I pointed at him, he groaning out in pain “get in the car, come on!” looking around me “Sofia get in the car” opening the back door “get in” helping her up, we going to go somewhere else now.
Sofia is not speaking to me at all, she knows I am angry “all I am saying is that you shouldn’t have hit him like that” I don’t want to hear it “just get your medication so we can go, we drove all around for this shit because of some nigga” Sofia took in a deep breath “fine, just please calm down yeah?” I shrugged “and why did you even get out of the car? I said Sofia stay in the car and what did you do?” Sofia just hugged my body “you will calm down soon” nodding my head “you have such a temper, my god. Now I know where Cartier gets it from at times” Sofia grabbed my hand to walk off “I guess” I said in a whisper “I love you anyways” Sofia pulled me along the aisles “I think my heartburn has gone now” I had to laugh “scare you out of it?” I asked “no, just too much drama. Cassius I was scared for others, I was never scared of you. Trust me, I just don’t want you to do something stupid so public” niggas be pissing me off and it’s over dumb shit, I couldn’t honestly sit back and let it happen without doing something. None of this shit needed to happen if niggas behaved themselves, now I had to get violent with Sofia there.
Space Jam will never get old, I could watch this shit over and over again. I love this show so much, I chuckled at Bugs Bunny “you really want me to be close by to you? You mean that shit?” Josiah asked me as he sat across from me “I do, I think it’s better that way” stretching my body out as I yawned “I could help you out” shaking my head “I have a lot to do but no, I need you to just stay away. I want you safe, you know” Josiah nodded his head “I have a lot to do, again. Shit never ends, I got to go back to Brooklyn, I have to regain my shit. Things are just in the balance. I have this home life, then I got the business. It’s hard, but you know me, I will figure it out. This time, without people. Meaning Kyle” I don’t need anyone anyways “you know what you can do, sit with your dad while I do my thing” looking behind me “oh it’s Cartier, you already passing him on. Has he annoyed you already?” Sofia placed him on the couch next to me “when does he not, I just need to have a nap. I am tired, so if you could. Just take care of him for me” nodding my head “is the heartburn ok though?” Sofia smiled at me “it was, I mean getting the medication wasn’t fun but I will go and have a nap” nodding my head “why? What happened?” Josiah questioned “some nigga pissed me off, tried to take my spot I was trying to park in. We both just there, I ended up head-butting him, hitting his head on his steering wheel. I was so angry, you know my temper. But yeah” Cartier started to climb on me “little stank” pressing a kiss to his forehead “when you get angry you get angry, I know that” I am a calm guy really.
There is still a mess of gifts under tree, mostly Cartier’ toys but he is enjoying himself with my brother “don’t give it too much gas, he will end up falling back” Cartier will need to grow in to his toy cars “put your hands on the wheel, like this” Josiah said, Cartier is confused as shit on why he needs to do that. Watching Josiah moving back, he started controlling the car. Cartier’ eyes widened, he ain’t feeling it I can tell “aye, don’t be crying now. You playing in that now. I paid out” Josiah ain’t shit, I told him to not put too much power on it “why you playing?” Cartier’ lower lip is poked out as the car came over to me and into my legs “aye, no crying now” sitting up and leaning forward “no, no tears now. Ain’t no way you crying over this, you good” touching the top of his head “you are so mean, he wants to cry in that thing” Josiah reversed back and that was it, he cried out “y’all are rude!” Jasmine said, Cartier is being sensitive about it. He better play with that shit, it wasn’t cheap and he out here crying about it.
“What you thinking about?” Josiah asked “how do you know I am?” looking up at him “you just quiet, you seem in deep thought. You ain’t moved much from your desk” sitting back in my chair “when Fabien, Laurence and them are back. Once Christmas is over. Once I go Barbados with Sofia like I promised, but I need to go Brooklyn before I do that. Shit will be hot, I am moving differently but it’s me, they know when I am in Brooklyn but I have a detective on my side. I am bringing in fire arms and drugs and she is getting me them here, it’s going to arrive just after New Years, just worries me. Anything can happen and I don’t want to do it but I need too. It’s hard, constantly being knocked back by some dumb shit, I had things set up. I feel fear and I hate that feeling” I need to shake that feeling off “it’s because you want to be here and you will Cassius, it’s you. You’re way ahead of these reckless niggas out there. You have everything you need, Ethan is loyal as fuck, you have the power Cassius. You and Ethan will make it work. Them French niggas are crazy, they don’t care. You have that detective. You have had it worse so this is nothing for you” I like that he thinks I can do anything “I don’t want nothing from you Josiah, just be you. I don’t want you to follow my path or anything like that. Anything comes up you just remain in the background” I don’t need to lose him too.
I think because it’s coming around so soon I am feeling like this “you not hungry?” Sofia pointed “nah, it’s probably because Jasmine made it” I laughed “anyways, you excited for Canada? I just wanted to not be here in this place. Somewhere that I can be me, be us and nobody to piss me off either?” Sofia rolled her eyes “I know that, but I am baby. Any time I get to spend with you makes me happy and you know. Thank you for waking up early. You look so tired though, maybe you need to sleep” nodding my head “I think I need it” stifling out a yawn “Leyton called me earlier” licking my lips as I got up from the chair “he good?” I am not interested but I have to show I am “he is, I am happy he is in Barbados. I am so excited to go back Cassius and then you’re going too” I laughed nervously “that sounds fun” Sofia side eyed me “let his grumpy ass go to bed, goodnight ugly” Jasmine waved me off “aight, night” it’s not even ten yet and I am going to bed but my mind is working overtime, I need to rest it.
My eyes shot open, it was weird because something don’t feel right and also I can hear raised voices downstairs. Sofia ain’t even in the bed either, lifting my phone up. It’s one in the morning, pushing the covers off of me and the bedroom door opened. Getting out of bed “Cassius, you’re awake?” she put the light on, she could have warned me. Squinting my eyes “damn” I breathed out, fixing my dick in my boxers “there is police downstairs for you” Sofia said in sadness, I mean I could have figured “did they say why?” Sofia shook her head “Jasmine is really talking shit, there is three cars outside. They let me come here to wake you, they wanted to come in, I refused and said I will get him” rubbing my face “aight, don’t worry abut it” walking off to the walk in closet “worry about it? Cassius, I don’t like this” Sofia said behind me “I don’t need high emotions right now, please” I don’t need her to be like this.
They ain’t going to be nice to me, any chance they get they try to lock me up “I would say wait in the bedroom but you don’t listen” making my way down the steps with Sofia behind me “y’all are fucking dumb” Jasmine said, both officers looked at me “Cassius Warren?” they asking like they don’t know “I am, sure you have searched the database, you know my face” reaching to the bottom of the steps “what do you want?” I asked “for the assault of Jaivon, eye witnesses have seen the car registration linked here” I know who that was “I don’t know who Jaivon is” I said “this white man tried to say Sofia did it! Fucking Sofia!” Jasmine spat, they really think Sofia could do that “that is my fiancé car, I was driving it but I think they got it wrong. I ain’t do shit” the officers looked at each other “we need to take you in, we can do it by just walking out or we have the officers to come in and take you” I laughed “you pussies came with back up for one guy?” I said “sir, I think we both know why” shaking my head “I don’t actually, because y’all come here and harassing my fiancé, you said that right?” I pointed at Jasmine “he did, he came up here saying I am Eddie and Sofia Bundy, your car has been mentioned in an assault, we need to take you in I was like no bitch, and then they said to not wake you. On about some low key shit” I don’t trust the police “y’all wanted to take a pregnant woman for what? Y’all trying to be clever, y’all took so long to come here and plan some dumb shit to rile me up by taking her. Aight, how about fuck you. You ain’t got no evidence either” they can drag me out and I know they can’t, they are trying to be scary “mute now? Get out of my house too, that Jaivon nigga don’t know shit, now go” the officers both turned around to leave.
Watching the last police car drive off from the cameras “dickhead!” I spat, I don’t need the police sniffing up my ass “Sofia, don’t ever fucking go with them” walking around her “but I didn’t know what to do” walking towards my office, Ethan to sort some shit out and scare that Jaivon person. I don’t know how but he will need to do something “Sofia, go to bed now” opening my office door “but Cassius, I got scared” she’s so simple at times “go to bed” Josiah walked in the office with me before I closed the door “I know something would go down, Ethan got some work for himself now. He need to find this dumbass now. Luckily they ain’t got video evidence, I don’t want it to get to that” Ethan needs to work fast before it gets to that level “they real manipulative though, they wanted Sofia to go to the station alone. I don’t know what game they trying to play, we was like nah, Sofia you go and wake Cassius. They try to say the car is yours and it’s been pointed out” I hate the fucking police, they are so fucking full of shit.
Josiah really wants to hang with me, like even now “are you still angry about last night?” Sofia asked “not angry, you just need to use your brain. Like you don’t need to go with them at all so why attempt it? Don’t let them get in your mind, but anyways. I need to go out, I will be back. I just need to do a few things” seeing Ethan calling my phone “Cassius, why? Where are you going?” answering my phone “one second” I said down the phone “I will be back, I just need to do something” pressing a kiss to Sofia’ lips “Cassius please don’t go out” pressing my phone to my ear “you got it?” waving Josiah over, I know Ethan better have “I got something for you” holding the car key out “put the car engine on, aight cool. You got Omar waiting for me, I ain’t even playing. Shit is so dumb” Sofia is not happy at all, walking behind Josiah out of the home. Dragging the door shut “I know, he going to regret it. Let Omar do the work, you watch. He will soon drop the case” I am sure this guy will, I ain’t fucking playing with his dumb ass speaking to the police. 
Josiah trying to be my driver now, he can ride with me but he can’t do shit “am I doing something wrong?” Josiah asked “no, why?” picking at my chin hair “because you’re so quiet” I laughed “I am thinking, when something is wrong I feel it. Turn this corner, Omar should be parked up” I am a quiet guy, people rile me up “I love this car, can I have it?” side eyeing Josiah “it’s Sofia’ my nigga, I just keep on taking it” Josiah turned the corner, seeing Omar’ car “Josiah, keep driving. Don’t stop driving” there has been a car following us, that is why I am quiet “why?” Josiah said in a whisper “just act normal, just keep driving. Turn right and then park up at the store. Also speed up, just want to see something” looking over at my brother, he ain’t made for this “relax, trust me” Josiah sped up as he turned right, he sped down the road. Looking in the wing mirror. That car is really following us “park up here, just relax. I am going to go into the store, the car is an undercover officer” Josiah slowed down the car, opening the door as the car came to a halt “just sit back” he is so nervous, closing the car door behind me.
Walking out of the store, just as I opened my can of Fanta police sirens could be heard out of nowhere “stop right there!” the one officer that has been follow us said “I ain’t even moving, just drinking my drink. Y’all bored?” he waving a fucking gun for “Eddie right, we met last night” three police cars stopped around the car “what are you doing in the vicinity near Jaivon? Come to threaten him, we have a warrant out for you, we got picture evidence. On the ground now. Get him out of the car now!” frowning “nah, y’all leave him, he ain’t done shit. Like me, I am innocent in this” he knocked my drink out of my hand and all I saw is this big white guy drop me down to the ground.
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Cartier keeps poking my stomach, I don’t know what is attracting him to do this, he doesn’t take notice usually “imagine a mini you Sofia, she is going to be so pretty. I do pray it is a girl, you think it is?” Cartier slapped my stomach “no!” I pointed at him “that hurt, you hurt mommy” I pouted at him, he knows he has done wrong because he was quick to put his head on my stomach “if this child is anything like Cartier, god help me. I want her, see I said her. I want her to be calm like me. To be honest even if she looks like Cassius, she will be pretty” Jasmine gagged “no way in hell, you seen his head. She will hate it” I don’t know what Jasmine is on but Cassius is handsome “aye, terror. What are you doing now?” Jasmine said, I moved Cartier away from me “he will try and climb on me now, don’t think so” Jasmine looked up “you back Josiah?” she said, looking behind me “uh yeah, they took Cassius” Josiah said, putting my legs down and shot up “what!? Who!?” I spat “the police, they took him. They just set him up with anything, they jumped him and arrested him, took him in outside the store. It’s bullshit, they saying bullshit things just to lock him up, the same officer that came here. He followed us, they locked him up. I need to call his lawyer” my heart fell, I told him to not go out and he did.
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yallreddieforthis · 5 years
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My Summer From Hell: A Tale of Friendship
Fandom: It (2017)
Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier (minor mentions of Richie’s crush on Eddie)
Rating: T (for language)
Words: 2.9k
Movie canon-compliant.  Also posted on AO3. This is that summer experience essay Richie warned us about.
“Richie Tozier?”
Richie takes a reluctant break from the sick-ass game of MASH: The Wonder Years Edition he’s playing by himself in his algebra notebook to look up at his teacher, who is waving a blue note and glaring expectantly at him.
Blue note. That means Neil wants to see him. Damn, only five days into the school year! New—actually, not a new record. Richie feels like he and the principal should be on a first-name basis by now; Richie’s in his office a lot. He rarely gets punished because most of the things he does toe the line of punishable offenses magnificently—he usually just gets told to stop doing whatever it is he’s doing and then gets sent back to class. If he was down there getting detention every other day, he’d understand what the problem was. But alas, Neil shot down the suggestion of being called Neil right away. So they can only be on a first-name basis in Richie’s head. Too bad.
The Math and Science building is as far away from the Administration building as you can get without leaving Derry Junior High, and Richie takes his time during the walk to Neil’s office, stopping outside the computer lab until Eddie catches sight of him through the window. He makes a gesture that causes Eddie to give him a surreptitious middle finger, hidden from his teacher by the monitor, but his cheeks also bloom cherry red, so Richie counts it as a win because it’s the cutest goddamn thing he’s seen all day. It feels like every other day now Richie’s being hit in the face with how adorable Eddie really is. He’s torn between wanting to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the mouth, and frankly he’s mostly still straddling the fence on that issue only because he doesn’t want to deal with the answer.
In contrast to having a pretty good idea deep down what direction things are headed in regarding his general feelings about Eddie, Richie has not the slightest clue why he’s being called to the principal’s office the Friday after school started. None of the things he’s done should have been discovered yet. It makes no sense.
Bill is in the computer lab too, and Richie can’t see him from where he’s sitting, so he heads over to the staircase at the end of the hall. Pausing to make sure no teachers are lurking around to give him shit for it, he sits down at the top of the railing and slides down. Actually, he slides about a fourth of the way down before falling off and sort of rolling the rest of the way, but no one saw that so it still counts as a success.
He walks past the yard to watch Stan and Ben running the mile in P.E. Stan is fucking booking it, and Richie dawdles long enough to figure out that he’s a lap ahead of everyone else. Running away from Bowers for a few years will do that to ya. Well, at least it will if you’re Stan. Richie still can’t run an 8 minute mile, so his P.E. grade has stagnated at a B-.
Richie stops in the middle of the hallway in the Language Arts Building, glancing into Mr. Tremblay’s French 1 class. Bev was planning on taking that this year, and she’d be in there if she hadn’t moved to Portland. Sometimes—and Richie hates thinking about this because there’s no use in dwelling on it—but sometimes he really wants to kick himself for not getting to know her sooner. She’s the best bro he’s ever had that’s a girl, and it just really sucks ass that they only got to hang out for like one summer.
Before he even realizes it, he’s walking into the front office. Bertha glances up at Richie through her horn-rimmed reading glasses.
“Mr. Tozier! What’d you do this time?” she asks brightly. Ah, Bertha. She and Richie have a rapport. Richie might go so far as to say she even likes him, at least a little. He’s made her laugh at least seven times, and once in sixth grade she told him he had a real gift after he showed her his best Rick Moranis impression. She doesn't bullshit him, and he doesn’t bullshit her. Well, not very much at least.
“I have no idea,” he tells her honestly, resting his elbows on her desk, which is decorated with a rubber band ball, a Hoberman sphere, several pictures of her nieces and nephews, and the biggest Hershey’s Kiss Richie has ever seen in his entire life. Seriously, it’s almost as big as his goddamn face. Apparently, she got it on a trip to New York, and she’s had it at least as long as Richie has known her. He has never wanted to eat a thing so badly in his entire life, regardless of how old it is. It’s a fucking Hershey’s Kiss. Do those things even go bad? Either way, it’s Richie’s number one goal to take a big fucking bite out of that thing before he culminates at the end of the year. He’s a thousand percent sure it will taste like sweet victory.
“Neil?” Bertha calls over her shoulder. “Did you send for Richie Tozier?”
Neil’s voice floats back through the open door behind Bertha. “Oh, yes. Thanks, send him on back.”
Neil’s desk always starts the year looking pristine, and by the last day of school it is filled with stacks of pure chaos. Richie admires him for trying again at the beginning of each year. It’s like how his mom buys him a binder for each class and book covers and sets up an organizational system for his homework and notes despite knowing that it won’t last a month. It’s nice of her to try, but Richie is pretty sure they both go into it with the understanding that it’s kind of a hail Mary situation.
So right now Neil’s just got like three pictures of his wife, a snowglobe with GREETINGS FROM ST. PAUL written on the base, and a manageable-looking stack of papers in file folders. Godspeed, sir.
“Mr. Tozier,” Neil says by way of greeting, “please have a seat.”
“How was your summer, Ne—Principal McCormack?” Richie asks, plopping down into the chair directly opposite Neil.
Neil’s eyebrows raise. “Not as interesting as yours, based on what I heard from Ms. Pfarrer this afternoon,” he says, reaching into his desk and pulling out two pieces of lined paper stapled together. “Care to explain?”
He places it directly in front of Richie. Richie peers at it. The top right corner reads: Richie Tozier, English 8A, Period 4, September 3, 1989. It wasn’t stapled when he handed it in, he’d just sort of folded the corners over together and hoped for the best, but Ms. Pfarrer must have gone ahead and stapled it for him.
“That would be yesterday’s English homework.”
“Correct,” says Neil. “I want you to read this entire essay out loud to me, and then I’m going to ask you some questions. Okay?”
Richie’s not sure if the questions are about the contents of the essay, or if Neil just can’t read his handwriting. Then again, that sounds like a Ms. Pfarrer problem; he’s not sure why she’d bring it to the principal if she just couldn’t read it. Normally she just hands it back to him and tells him to rewrite it when that happens, or at least that’s what she did last year. If his teachers have suddenly decided to send him to the principal every time he turns in an illegible assignment, it’s going to be a very long year.
But whatever.
  My Summer From Hell: A Tale of Friendship
  If you had asked me at the end of last year what the worst thing about my summer would probably be, I would have bet a hundred bucks it was going to be the trip I took down to Augusta to see my grandma two weeks ago, which sucked. All we did was watch Matlock all week and she made me get a really shi bad haircut, just like last year. It’s going to take me months to grow it out. But compared to what went down in July and the beginning of August, eating soup at Grandma Dottie’s house was NOTHING.
You know how kids just disappear off the face of the earth all the time here in Derry? If you didn’t, that’s a fun fact from me to you that I learned from my new friend Ben (he’s in your 5th period class). Well, while we were looking for my other friend Bill’s missing brother, we found out where they all went.
Underneath our feet, down in the sewers, there lives a killer clown. That’s right, you heard it here first. Like John Wayne Gacy, but 100000x worse because it’s for sure not human. Sometimes It’s a clown, sometimes not. Depends. On what? I have no idea. It was usually a clown when I saw it but one time it started turning into maybe a werewolf. It can turn into anything it wants and it eats kids.
Anyway, It almost killed all of us on the fourth of July. We Bill decided to go try and fight It at the creepy ass house on Neibolt street, and that was an absolute shit show disaster. Ask Ben to show you the sick scar on his stomach if you don’t believe me. Eddie fell through a giant hole in the floor and broke his arm. I got mad at Bill for bringing us all there and he punched me in the face, and then I didn’t talk to him for a month.
Then It dragged Beverly Marsh into its nasty sewer lair and we all went down the grossest well in Derry to get her back. Henry Bowers followed us because he just has to ruin everything, even things that are already the worst. There’s this giant cistern that has a huge pile of broken toys and crap and the clown lives in there. There were hundreds of dead kids floating in the air.
It’s a long story but I beat the shit crap out of It with a baseball bat and we fought it back. We swore to each other that we’d all come to fight It again if it returns. Anyway, the moral of this summer is that you can achieve anything if you work together and also that there is no way Henry Bowers could have caused an explosion during the 1800’s. I want to see him go to jail for taking a dump in my backpack for sure, and I guess for killing Belch, Vic and his dad too, but I know for a fact that he didn’t kill Georgie Denbrough or Betty Ripsom or Ed Corcoran. This town is just cursed.
  Richie looks up brightly at Neil when he finishes reading. Neil takes a deep breath and rubs his temples with his fingers.
“I’m not sure you understood what the assignment was, Richie,” he says. “This is an inventive—and deeply disturbing—story, but this was supposed to be about what you actually did over the summer, not—”
“Yeah,” says Richie. “It is. I mean, I didn’t think Ms. Pfarrer was going to actually read them all. But—”
“This was a nonfiction assignment though.”
Neil’s being real slow on the uptake. Maybe his brain is still on summer break.
“Yeah,” says Richie, nodding. “As in, this is what actually happened to me. Here’s where we swore we’d come back and fight again when we’re old. If It comes back.” Richie holds out his left hand so Neil can see the freshly healed scar.
“Ouch,” Neil winces. “How did you get that?”
Richie rolls his eyes. “I cut it on glass. On purpose. Go get the others—they’ll tell you. Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Den—”
“Please stop with the games,” says Neil. “Just—I’ve had a long week. We all have. Ms. Pfarrer wanted me to look into sending you to the school psychologist. I know you like to, you know, do what you do, but this is taking it too far.”
“Why would I lie to you about this?” Richie asks. He puts both elbows on the desk and leans forward. “Seriously. Why?”
“Attention-seeking behavior is common after the kind of trauma we’ve all experienced over the past year,” Neil says. Super patient, like he’s quoting a textbook and speaking to a preschooler. “I know what happened with Henry was a surprise to—”
“Wait, wait wait,” Richie interrupts. “You think I wrote this to get attention?”
Neil sighs and throws up his hands. “I can’t think of any other reason. If there is one, I’d love for you to give me some insight.”
Honestly? How fucking dare he. It strikes Richie in that moment how goddamn unfair this is. They had to do this with everyone—from explaining those nasty bites on Stan’s face to Eddie being grounded for the rest of the summer, to knowing exactly why there were so many more bodies in the sewer than missing kids from this past year and no one believing them…
“How about this for insight? ” Richie says. “I’ve been through too much trauma this year to come up with another bullshit story that all you adults will eat up. None of you care what actually happened; you just want me to tell you something that means you don’t have to do anything about it. Well, you’re gonna have to come up with your own lie to tell yourself. I’m not doing it for you.”
Neil is gaping. But Richie keeps going.
“I thought it was Bowers before this summer and honestly, I wish I’d been right. And it’s not like I’m sorry that he’s getting all this shit pinned on him even though he didn’t do it. My life is a million times easier without him around—he can get strung up by his ballsack for all I care.”
“Richie, there’s a mountain of evidence against—”
“I don’t give a shit about evidence,” says Richie. “I know what I saw. I know what happened. I know, and Bill knows, and Stan knows, and Bev… What do you care though? You’ll probably be dead anyway by the time It comes back.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?” Principal McCormack asks. His face has gone hard and stony like Richie’s never seen before; like Richie has crossed a real line this time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows there’s going to be nasty consequences for this, but he can’t find it in himself to give a shit.
“You wouldn’t believe me even if it was,” Richie mutters. “Just… Fuck it. Send me to the school shrink or whatever. Give me detention; flunk my essay. None of this shit matters anyway.”
“You can bet you’re getting all three of those things,” says Principal McCormack with a mirthless chuckle. “And I’m not sure what’s gotten into you this year, but I feel like—”
“Do I sound like the grownups in Charlie Brown when I talk?” Richie demands. “Seriously, am I making like, actual words to you? Or are you just hearing wah wah wah when I—”
“I’m calling your parents,” Principal McCormack says over him. “Is something going on at home?”
Richie feels blood pounding through his veins. Like it could melt his skin. He looks Principal McCormack dead in the eye, reaches for his essay and tears it to shreds, standing slowly.
“In the end,” he says, his voice shaking and frustrated tears threatening to overpower him, “it’s not going to make any difference if you don’t believe me. We’ll come back, all of us. Me and Eddie. Ben, Beverly, Mike. Bill. Stan. What you think doesn’t change that.”
And as suddenly as it came, the anger evaporates. Just...poof. Gone. It clears, and there’s fucking gobsmacked Principal McCormack sitting there like a lump, staring at Richie. Maybe he heard the individual words, but one thing Richie know for sure: he still doesn’t get it. And he never will. And not just him; Ms. Pfarrer. Even Bertha, whether she thinks Richie is gifted or not. And his parents…
There’s a sick loneliness that kind of creeps in to fill up where his anger was, colder than a January wind. Every time his dad comforted him as a kid, when he’d check under the bed and in the closet for monsters, was a lie. When his mom told him he’d be safe sleeping in their bed. That nothing was coming to get him. That they’d never let him get hurt. Lies, all of it. And it’s not like the adults in his life are lying to him on accident. The truth is right there in front of their stupid fucking faces and they just refuse to look at it.
The chill settles into a stony sort of resolution. Richie has stared the truth in the face and didn’t flinch. Even getting suspended is fucking nothing compared to… Whatever. He’s getting detention anyway. Might as well make it memorable. He turns on his heel and walks out of the office.
“If you’re still alive in 2016,” Richie calls over his shoulder, “I’ll hit you up at your nursing home and let you know I was right all along.”
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thekit-katniss · 5 years
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The Girl from the Portal
So I realized that I have shared this once already, but actually wanted to start posting it here hence I have started to re-read it and fix my mistakes. People are enjoying it on AO3, so figured you guys would want to read it too. Alma is my OC for Gravity Falls and let’s just say, her and Ford has some history together, which am working on that fic currently. Also just for future reference, I go by CipherKat on most of my fanfic writes. You guys tell me if you want more of it, then I’ll post the rest, k? :) 
Read it on AO3
Paring Ford/Original Female Character
Genre Fanfiction
Summary Ford has returned from the portal a few days ago. As he starts to readjust, he decides it would be best to dismantle the portal in case of attracting dream demon, Bill. The portal somehow reactivates itself as a girl emerges from it. Ford recognizes her from his time inside the dimension. Worried she may attract unwanted attention, he offers her refuge. But keeping her hidden from the family will be the biggest challenge. However, their past together has come back to haunt them as they realize - they may be more than friends.
“Fine on one condition. And stay away from the kids. I don’t want them in danger. Cause as far as I am concerned, their the only family I have left.” Stanley sneered before walking away. He’d stop atop the stairs, glancing back over to Ford who was giving him the cold shoulder. He heard him sigh before disappearing behind the door.
Ford felt the grief now. How can you be so stupid, Stanford? He told himself. His eyes went back to the mirror they were just staring into together. He cleaned up fairly nice, his tan coat has seen better days though. Its edges were ratty and dirty. Might need to replace it someday. He stroked at the little bit of stubble on his chin.
It was kind of strange to be back in his dimension. He couldn’t grasp that reality was still similar – well besides Stanley making the cabin an attraction and the great niece and nephew who were living in the attic currently – which he never knew about. What a world to come back to. Even if it wasn’t what you expected from it. All that really mattered was he was back where he belonged.
He sighed while gazing upon himself. Stanley must hate him for not saying the two words he’s been waiting for. How long has it been now? Thirty years it seemed like. No wonder they are old and wrinkly now.
He ventured into the basement, punching in the code on the vending machine. The stairwell was tight going down as the darkness seemed to suck you in. Once at the bottom, you pretty much were in the lab area. Machines blinked and hummed walking through where it opened up into a wider section. The triangular portal took up the wall with its strange symbols lining its rim.
Ford seem to become disconnected as his eyes were nailed to the portal. He was still angry at Stanley for even starting it again also using his name. But he still loved him. He was still family. He glanced down at journal one in his hand. The golden hand glistened in the dim light as he matched up his. He sighed while lifting up his six fingered hand.
He turned towards the lever beside him as he went behind it to push it forward. With a grunt, the portal slowly started to expand until it filled the whole rim. Its blue glow lit up the room as he instantly scooped up all three of his journals. He cradled them, grabbing the first one and going mid toss only to hesitate. His reflection stared back at him from the thin gold sheet.
Ford wanted to throw them away, forget about them. But his life’s work was inside. They could end up anywhere in the universe through this portal. And it meant they were far away from him and his family. But he found himself reconsidering for some reason as he just saw his true self.
“God damn it.” He whispered to himself. He slowly sunk down to his knees, sulking in the glow as if to take it all in.
He would rise and place them back on his desk, his nails digging into its sides. His tension was still high from what he had experienced. Stanley wouldn’t understand what he even saw or heard. He could probably write a whole book about it honestly. But thirty years – thirty years is a long time.
He turned his attention to the now open portal. He instantly went over to the lever and pulled it back. It slowly dimmed away until it fizzled out. Ford would sink into his desk chair, placing his hands over his face. He just let his own thoughts run through, thinking about if he should of stayed away.
-
Ford awoke to the sound of mechanical whirling. The three journals were still where he had left them. It took a second for him to realize the location of the sound as he jumped up to his feet. He knocked over the chair in the process as he ran for the lever. The portal glowed brightly when he approached, bringing his hand up to shade his eyes.
On instinct, he grabbed the lever and pulled it back. But nothing happened. He tried again and again. The same results. “No. No.” He mumbled to himself as he quickly went over to his tool stash and scrambled for a wrench.
Once he found one, he returned back to it and broke off the covering with the bolt side. He skimmed the lines for any sign of sabotage. He was hoping this wasn’t Bill’s doing. One of the plugs was mangled with the other, causing a delay on the power. With a quick readjustment and plugging them back in.
He stood up just in time to see a mass form behind the portal. It morphed and danced until it made a full form of a human. Just a few days prior, his family had experienced the same thing. The form moved forward and limb by limb, it appeared more distinct. It would stop at the edge of the line as it skimmed the surroundings.
In a panic, Ford forcefully pushed the lever back as the portal begun to spark and crackle a light show. Both Ford and the form took cover. The form flipped itself and combat rolled to save its landing while Ford slid behind his desk. The whirling grew louder before it exploded into a bright light. It reached across the shack’s windows as it beamed out and just like the snap of a finger, it went dark.
Ford coughed while getting to his feet. He cautiously walked out, his hand hovering over his gun holstered at his side. The form appeared behind a table off on the right side as it aimed its gun at his head. Ford did the same as he whipped it out and aimed. It was a classic showdown scene as they stared heavily at each other.
“Who are you? State yourself.” Ford commanded. He scanned the form top to bottom. It was for sure human, lean and feminine from what he could tell.
“Stanford?” It replied, carefully lowering the long red scarf from its mouth.
Just as he suspected, it was a woman. She had bright green eyes and deep brown flowing locks. Her lips curled a little bit at the ends in a smug look. Something about her made Ford’s visions come back to him. He knew her.
“Stanford, it’s me.” She repeated as if he had amnesia. His gun was still pointing in her way until his eyes sparked realization.
He slowly lowered his guard and his gun with it. “Alma, what are you doing here?” His personality suddenly changed to being more firm.
Alma let out a calming breath before lowering her gun. “I came to see you. I didn’t think your portal was going to open again.” She placed her gun on the table. “So I took my chance and jumped in.”
“You have to go back.” Ford ordered with the point of his finger.
“Why?” Alma asked, looking back at him.
“My brother is here. And so is my great niece and nephew – apparently.” Ford replied, sliding his gun away. He walked up beside her and shared her gaze. “It already weird enough I am here, but you-” He hesitated once her eyes saddened. “This isn’t your place.”
Alma sighed, breaking her eye contact. “But it was my dimension once before too. I’ve been waiting for this chance to come back.”
“You’re here. But, I can’t have you be here.” He empathized on the here with his finger pointing down.
She grabbed her gun and toyed with it for a second before sliding it back into its holster. Without another look, she started to walk away, only for Ford to grab her arm. “Alma wait.”
“Having second thoughts?” She said, stopped by his hand. His six fingers tightened on her as he let out a slight whimper.
“I’ll let you stay on one condition.” His arm fell as he took a few steps back. “Stay away from my family. That’s all I ask.”
Alma turned towards him, her eyes glossed over. Ford still didn’t think this was the best idea. But she didn’t have any other place to go. He just hoped if his family did discover her, they’d accept her. Just like he did.
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