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titularkilljoy · 3 years

Text

sometimes and always

//a love story in five acts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: It's hard to resist falling into bed with a cute neighbour, but it turns out it's even harder to resist falling for him. (alternatively- Spencer Reid and the reader struggle to resolve their feelings but make valiant attempts to do so while lying horizontally in each other's beds.)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, decidedly non-American spelling conventions

Author's Note: SO. This fic was originally part of a fic swap for the wickedly talented @imagining-in-the-margins, but it is now over six months too late. Thankfully, patience apparently springs eternal in her?? besides all the other amazing things?? Unfair, but good for me. So, Pom, this one is for you. Thanks for being the absolute best and putting up with my rants and not judging me for mocking everything and everyone all the time. Love, Perpetually Tardy.

(i)

This is how it happened the first time.

I was frowning at the pitiful stack of mail in my hands, wondering if the conspicuously missing letters and subscriptions would ever be returned to me. Ever since moving to my new apartment, I had been at the mercy of the Postal System and that was never a good situation to be in. I’d resigned myself to having to take an extra trip back to my old building and do some investigating, when the elevator dinged and I stepped in. Just as the doors slid closed, there was the frantic rumble of footsteps and a hand slipping into the narrowing gap.

The doors sprang apart to let in the harried owner of the appendage, who barely spared me a glance before turning to face the front, eyes briefly darting to the buttons. It took me a second to recognise him. It was the guy from the apartment opposite to mine, although so far that seemed to be only a nominal living arrangement; in my two weeks there, I’d seen him exactly once, merely in passing, and we had exchanged a sum total of zero words.

I followed his lead and stopped blatantly staring at him, though I continued studying him covertly through my peripheral vision. He looked—well, his jawline looked like it could cut glass effortlessly and he had the soft chestnut hair of a male model and I knew I was probably going to develop a very embarrassing crush on him at some point— but besides that, he looked browbeaten, his whole posture seeming to buckle under the invisible weight of the world.

There was an awkward moment when he realised we were both heading in the same direction, and I took it upon myself to break the ice.

“Hi,” I greeted, introducing myself, “I just moved in. I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” I gave him my warmest smile.

His swift assessing glance would have escaped my notice if I hadn’t been paying such close attention; his expression was still shuttered off, but he offered an endearing little quirk of his lips and an introduction. “Spencer Reid. I’ve-uh, I’ve been away on a work thing.”

“Oh? What do you do?” I asked, beginning a leisurely walk down the hallway and fishing my keys out of my bag. I immediately regretted the query when, impossibly, his eyes became even more guarded.

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Well, that clipped admission would have given anyone pause. “Oh, wow. That’s really impressive, dude.”

“Thanks.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“So, you’re like a psychologist?”

“I catch serial killers.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable so much as it was brimming with my insecurities. The alcohol in my blood helped with that, though; the next words were out of my mouth before I even registered the thought.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, uh—”

He was going to say no.

“It’s just that you look like you could use some company. And I think it’s absolutely criminal that we haven’t gotten to know each other yet.”

“It’s really late.”

But he was rocking forwards on his toes just the tiniest bit, leading me to believe that some part of him did want to take me up on my offer that night.

“So it is. Come on, Agent Reid. Be a good neighbour.”

“It’s Doctor, actually,” he corrected. “Doctor Reid. I have Ph.Ds. Three of them.”

My eyebrows had risen to my hairline and, sensing the change in the air, he hurried to put me at ease. “But you can just call me Spencer.”

“Huh. You don’t hear that every day.” I chuckled sheepishly. “Well, come on in, Doctor.”

There was a moment when his whole body leaned towards me and his face looked conflicted but slightly enthusiastic, and I was convinced I could turn the night into a very pleasant one for both of us. Then, with a loud clatter, my keys slipped from my hands, startling us. The moment was broken, and I sighed in resignation.

“Let me guess, you’ve decided I’m too drunk and we’re going to go our separate ways.”

At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now,” he told me slowly as he bent down to pick up my keys and pressed them securely into my outstretched hand, “It’s late and I’ve had a long day. I’ll...see you around?”

“Sure,” I managed to say with a regretful smile, “I’m holding you to that.”

*~*

That, however, turned out to be easier said than done, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the Herculean feat of unpacking and organising my new place with a mild hangover and a tinge of frustration over lost opportunities looming over me. Once that was dealt with, the bigger challenge turned out to be actually locating the man in question. I knocked on his door a few times, but when the responding silence continued to persist for over a week, I began to think he’d just been a drunken hallucination in the first place. And the longer I went without any follow-up interactions, the more intensely I started overthinking the slightly fuzzy memory of our brief conversation.

Of course I’d managed to make a fool of myself in front of a really cute guy. That was absolutely in character for me. Every time I passed by his door, I convinced myself a little more that I owed him a sincere apology for my poor, inconsiderate conduct.

Beyond the embarrassment, however, work didn’t leave me much time to think about it, and by the time I was trudging to my apartment the next Saturday, the whole encounter had been relegated firmly to the back burner. Naturally, that was when the faint glow of light under his door distracted me from the very passive-aggressive email I was composing. I hesitated.

The deep breaths I sucked in didn’t serve much more purpose than to make me somewhat lightheaded, but I forged on anyway. I knocked on the door, and waited.

There was silence, followed by the sound of reluctantly shuffling feet, and then, finally, I was face to face with Spencer Reid once again.

“Um,” I started, “hi.”

He stared at me wordlessly for a beat, during which I started to wonder if he’d actually forgotten me already.

“So, we met the other day, and I just want to apologise. I didn’t mean to come on to you so strongly, and I get that you weren’t int-”

“Do you want to come inside?”

“..What?”

“Do you want to come inside?” he repeated, enunciating clearly. That didn’t clear up my confusion, though.

“Um. Yes? Sure. I mean, no, shouldn’t we talk about this a bit?”

He let out a tired laugh. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Alright,” I said, biting my lip. I followed him inside, and pushed the door closed behind me; it emitted an innocuous little click as it fell shut.

There was something about the weariness behind his eyes and the careful set of his jaw that made me want to study him and understand what was going through his head, but all I could glean that night was that Spencer didn’t seem amenable to much time spent on documentation.

“So,” I began unsurely, shedding my jacket and scanning the contents of the room, the piles upon piles of books and the distinct lack of much else, “tell me about yourself.”

“Didn’t I already do that?”

“Hmm, that’s not the whole story,” I mumbled, running my fingers over a broken-spined, wrinkled copy of Paradise Lost laid open on a heavy wooden desk. A single smudge of blue ink stood out against the yellowing page, and beside it, the print read: This horror will grow mild, this darkness light. “You’re not just an FBI agent.”

“That’s all that’s important,” he asserted, taking a step towards me. He had one eye on my curiously wandering fingers and, sensing that it was making him more antsy than he needed to be, I tucked my hands into my back pockets, facing him with a grin of false bravado. I really wished I was drunk. That would have made things infinitely easier.

“Besides,” he continued, this time meeting my eyes directly, “I don’t know anything about you either.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded, stepping closer to him.

His eyes didn’t leave mine, until my own strayed to the bobbing curve of his throat and the tantalising motion of his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. Not for the first time that week, I wondered how terrible of an idea it would be to try to kiss my attractive neighbour. I could see my own apprehensions mirrored in his stance, and I saw the exact moment when he identified the focus of my gaze.

I didn’t have to spend much time contemplating. He decided, just as I did, that any consequences of this impulsive decision could be dealt with later.. I lunged for him just as he closed the distance in one long stride, grasping my jaw in both his hands. Then we were firmly attached at the lips, and his arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me closer, seemingly intent on devouring my mouth. Gradually, our actions slowed a bit, the kiss turning softer and more exploratory, our tongues winding around each other gently, my lungs readily accepting his deep, nasal sigh.

His arms around my waist were a steadily spreading band of warmth, and I could feel the growing evidence of his arousal against my thigh. I found myself thinking I could be very happy with just kissing him like this, feeling his breaths tickle my face, letting my hands suffer minute pinpricks from the stubble littering his jaw. But then his grip shifted to my hips and tightened ever so slightly, and it was like I’d been doused with fuel and set alight. My fingers struggled to unbutton his shirt as he pressed distracting kisses along my neck, my soft whimpers breaking the relative silence of the room.

All of a sudden, the ground shifted and my stomach swooped, and it took a second or two before I realised I was now in his arms, being carried towards, presumably, his bedroom. Content, I got to work on undoing the last button and trying to slip the shirt down his arms entirely. He granted me a chuckle for my troubles before laying me down gently on our destination and taking it off himself.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking his knees into the soft mattress on either side of my legs, helping me out of my own clothes and methodically kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, until finally, I was clad only in flimsy cotton and he was nosing at my aching core. With two fingers, he deftly removed the last of my defences and pressed his mouth against me. I moaned, my hands flying to his hair and trying to keep from pulling too hard as he used his tongue to examine every inch of my arousal, evidently experimenting based on the sounds he managed to elicit from me.

“Oh, my God,” I babbled, hips bucking wildly under the iron grip holding them down.

“Tell me,” he demanded, pulling away slightly, “tell me how much you like it.”

“Spencer,” I breathed desperately, “Please. I need- I need more.”

He hummed leisurely against me, frustrating me to no end. My grip in his hair tightened at last, guiding him where I needed him most, and I swear I felt his lips stretch into a smile.

It went on for what felt like hours, but there was no earthly way I could have lasted that long. He took mercy on me eventually, plunging two long fingers deep inside me, closing his lips around the bundle of nerves that, predictably, sent me into a violent, shaking climax. He nursed me patiently through the aftershocks, waiting till my legs had stilled before rising to undo his belt and rid himself of his pants. I was already mourning the loss of his closeness, and I pulled him back on top of me the moment he was within reach.

“Come on, Doctor,” I taunted, “It’s time you made good on your promise and got to the main event.”

“I never promised anything,” he retorted, but the playful glint in his eyes excited me, and while he reached over beside us to the nightstand, I rose to the occasion.

“Oh? Well, if you don’t want to, I guess I’ll just head out, then,” I teased, going so far as to attempt to sit up from underneath him. I felt a low, threatening sound begin in his chest and make its way up his throat as his hands gripped my wrists and brought them down to my sides, pinning me in place.

It was my turn to chuckle at his eagerness, lifting my head to briefly peck him on his lips.

“Don’t worry, Spencer,” I cooed, “I’m not going anywhere. Now fuck me already.”

“With pleasure,” came the response, and while I wondered idly how a smirk could simultaneously be sinister and bashful, there was the sharp sound of crinkling foil, and then he cut off my thoughts by entering me in one fluid motion.

“Fuck!” I cried out, holding him around the shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer.

“That’s it,” he groaned in my ear, “let me hear you.”

He set a torturous rhythm, thrusting into me harshly before pulling out slowly, carefully, making me relish the sensation, anticipation building steadily in the pit of my stomach and spreading until it engulfed me. A ceaseless litany of moans and whimpers filled the air around us, the source of each barely discernible. At last, I could feel myself riding the very precipice, and his name began to fall from my lips like a prayer.

“Spencer,” I called, “Spenc-”

He swallowed the rest of my inconsequential cries, bringing his thumb to where we were joined to guide me over the edge, and as I convulsed around him soundlessly, he reached his own climax, blunt fingernails leaving crescent marks on my hips, his heavy panting breaths stuttering, once, against my clavicle, before calming and slowly evening out.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, my hand combing lightly through his hair, his closed-mouth kisses pressing against my neck like a balm. Eventually, though, we had to move, and it was he who did first. He pulled out and walked away from the bed without looking at me, tossing the tied-up condom in the trash. I sat up, cross-legged, watching him for a bit, pursing my lips when I noticed he was actively avoiding my gaze.

I cleared my throat. “Where’s your bathroom?”

He pointed in a general direction and mumbled something incoherent; sighing in disappointment, I stood up gingerly and went to clean myself up. When I returned, the room still smelled like sex, and Spencer was still evasive, but he was sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looked up when I entered, watching me pick up my clothes.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

I glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

Nodding, he watched me get dressed, then followed me into the living room and watched me drape my jacket over my arm. Then he watched me walk to the door, all the while not saying a word.

The cool steel of the doorknob in my hand, I looked over my shoulder one more time.

“Well, Spencer. You know where to find me, I guess,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly. Then I left his apartment, and despite the enormity of what had transpired during my visit, the click of the door closing sounded exactly the same.

(ii)

Of course, after that, I resolved it would never happen again. The man next door clearly had some issues with what we had done, and I couldn’t be bothered to solve them. It was, frankly, idiotic to jeopardise the prospect of good neighbours in favour of sex, however great it might have been.

It was embarrassing how quickly my resolution packed its bags and jumped out of my third-storey window.

I was awoken the next morning by three firm raps on my door. I think I knew, somehow, who was trying to get my attention, so I took my time, but the reveal of Spencer’s regretful face didn’t surprise me any less. I was wary as I stared at him wordlessly, cycling through all the possible reasons for his visit, and his eyes dropped to the way my arms tightly hugged my midsection. He winced then, meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” he blurted, and it sounded so rehearsed that I had to stifle a guffaw. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that could have been frustration, but he powered through. “I’ve had a pretty terrible week at work and I think I was trying to get something out of my head. But I was awful to you, and it was completely my fault. I’m sorry if I offended you. I had...a great time.”

I’d been watching him carefully throughout his speech, and if he was faking the earnestness in those last couple of lines, he was an extraordinary actor. I concluded, as I studied the apologetic slump of his shoulders and the dark bags into which his eyes had sunken, that I didn’t need to worry about the veracity of his words.

“It’s okay,” I said hesitantly. “I mean, no, it’s not okay, it felt really awful, but thanks for explaining. I get it now.”

“Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to the side, “that’s great. Thank you.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Problem?” I was bemused.

“No!” He was looking back at me, now. “I- well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. I thought I’d have to convince you.”

“Huh. Well, you can still convince me, Doctor. Give me a second to get ready. You’re buying me breakfast.”

I quite liked the shy smile that graced his face in response.

*~*

It kept happening. There was no way I could have stopped it, and there was no reason I would have wanted to.

We quickly grew into a familiar rhythm. Each time, it started with one of us having a particularly stressful day. Each time, it started with a knock on the door and some perfunctory shuffling around. Before wasn’t the time for talking. Each time, we’d stumble into whichever surface was closest, and every time it wasn’t the bed, Spencer would make some halfhearted protests about germs and hygiene, before I shut him up very effectively with a manicured hand on his dick. Each time, in the During, I marvelled at how well we fit together, how quickly we’d learned each other’s bodies, and each time, I saw more of him than I had the last.

And I loved every bit of it.

Spencer no longer retreated into his shell in the After. He’d try sometimes, but I knew how to coax him out, now. I’d slip my hand into his, ever so gently, and wait. Or I’d sling one arm around his waist until he returned the embrace. I was getting scarily good at reading him. It was like working on an intricate puzzle, and every new achievement was rewarded with a deeper, longer look into his mind.

I carefully stored away every casual anecdote about someone from work or his godson or his mother, and I loved to watch the life burn bright in his eyes. Of course, they were all happy stories. I could sense the bittersweet aftertaste they left in his mouth, but he never let me inspect it too closely. In turn, I regaled him with tales of my own, of my sister and my parents, of my cat that was perpetually falling asleep on top of me. I told him all the easy, palatable things, holding back just as much as he did, always careful to maintain the wall of superficiality.

But things did slip through the cracks every once in a while, from both of us-- they were bound to, what with the sheer amount of time we spent together in various states of undress. Things that made me burn with curiosity that couldn’t be sated without jeopardising the very foundation of our arrangement. So I turned a blind eye to the jagged scars on his thigh and neck when he failed to maneuver to hide them; in return, he kept mum when I walked into his apartment, on the day of my worst professional disaster, with runny makeup and bloodshot eyes, shivering all over.

If he noticed that I kissed the skin over his scars a little more tenderly, lavishing attention on him the first time I saw them, he didn’t show it. If he liked the way I always nuzzled my face into the one on his neck when we were done, he didn’t show it.

For my part, I tried very hard not to read into the slow, shallow thrusts or the almost reverent way he handled me when my tears still hadn’t dried. I definitely did not read into the arm over my shoulder or the slightly baffled crease in his brow while we sat on his couch with a random episode of The Office.

And if, maybe, the frequency of his visits increased as the months went by, who could blame him? He was an FBI agent. He probably had a lot of bad days.

Sometimes, though, I’d go over when I’d had a good day and I felt like celebrating. Sometimes, I’d knock on his door just because I was bored and I wanted to see him. It wasn’t as if he would know the difference. Our bodies knew how to be around each other, and that was all that mattered.

This was just stress relief, after all.

(“Have you ever been in love?” I asked him once, abruptly, my heart still pounding as the sweat cooled on our skins.

He glanced at me warily, but he must have detected only honest curiosity on my face, not lovesickness or anything else that would have had him running for the hills.

He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Once.”

“What happened?” My finger traced an aimless pattern on his chest.

“She loves me,” he said, “but she isn’t in love with me.”)

We never articulated any feelings we may or may not have about each other or our situation. We dodged sincere conversation like it would kill us. So all the pieces we owned of each other were ones that we had been remiss in guarding diligently. That only made them all the more precious.

But on the heels of every stolen glance, there was a moment where he looked right through me, where I felt blank and insubstantial, like I was a placeholder for something or someone, and that would be enough for the wall to be between us again, rigid and unrelenting.

It was a shame that I was stupid enough to hold on to the scraps that fell through anyway.

(iii)

I was an immensely stupid person.

That was the only explanation for why I was leaning against the outer wall of our apartment building at three in the morning, desperately shoving my hands into my coat pockets to brace against the cold.

“You don’t have to be here.”

Can he read minds now? I wondered sullenly. Spencer was sitting on the front steps, with his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled, and his eyes were the picture of torment. I would have loved to console him, but every attempt so far had been firmly rebuffed.

He had knocked on my door an hour ago and silenced my greeting with a bruising kiss. Of course, I knew how to do that dance, but Spencer had been off his rhythm tonight. When I’d reached for his shirt, he’d pushed my arms away. When I had kissed his jaw, he'd flinched. When I’d finally retreated in concern to ask him what was wrong, he had huffed out that he was perfectly fine, before trying to lift my shirt over my head.

I’d pushed him onto the bed and tried to distract him, and he had responded by clenching the sheets in his fists instead of grabbing my hips. I’d whispered his name in his ear the way he usually loved, and he’d climbed out from under me, sitting up on the bed with his chest heaving. At that point, I’d given up. What had followed was an exercise in patience.

(“Spencer, what’s wrong?” I’d asked again, to no avail.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” he’d gritted out, glaring at me.

I’d sighed. “Okay, which is it? Nothing, or that you don’t want to talk about it?”

Silence.

“Well something is clearly bothering you. Am I just supposed to ignore that?”

“We don’t need to talk about anything.” He’d tried to kiss me again. That time, I was the one who pushed him away.

“No, Spencer, this isn’t working. I don’t think we should do this tonight.”

The glare had intensified. “Fine.” He’d gotten up and tried to put his shirt back on, but his hands were shaking.

Cursing my investment in this man, I’d helped him while he stared daggers at me. When he’d hunted down his shoes and made his way out of my apartment, I’d pulled on my coat and followed, petting my cat briefly when he tried to follow us.)

So now we were outside, experiencing the most awkward silence ever known to man. Every time I attempted to put a hand on his shoulder or sit beside him, he would tense up yet again.

“Yes, Spencer,” I replied at length, “I do. You look like you might accidentally walk into traffic. I’m not leaving.”

“It’s not your problem.” The petulance was beginning to get on my nerves. I hadn’t signed up for sleepless weeknights.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I told him, shrugging.

I pulled out my phone to distract myself with the cute animals in my game. Spencer was still worryingly silent. But if he didn’t want to talk to me and he wouldn’t let me near him, there was little I could do but stand there.

Every now and then, his breathing would hitch, and I would study him out of the corner of my eye. Whether he fully registered my presence or not, I was unsure, but he seemed to be calming down. He looked less on edge, his eyes less wild, and I was about to approach him and try again, when a black car pulled up just ahead of us.

Both our heads jerked to attention, but the petite blonde who exited the car only had eyes for Spencer.

“Spence!” She rushed to him, pulling him into a hug that he slowly reciprocated. “Your phone is off. After what happened, I was so worried,” she murmured into his hair, her eyes shut in relief.

And Spencer-- Spencer’s face was something to behold. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips turned down unhappily, and his face was so naked and open that I almost looked away. Almost. The pain that shone there riveted me. I felt as if I could see every wound he had ever suffered, in that instant. He’d never shown me that before. And he still hadn’t-- this wasn’t for me. The embrace broke, but his face stayed the same while the woman fussed over him.

Something came back to me, a fragment of a memory. She loves me but she isn’t in love with me. Unbidden, a sound of realisation escaped my throat, drawing two pairs of eyes to the dark corner in which I had been so far obscured.

Spencer schooled his face back to some semblance of normalcy, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Uh, JJ, this is--”

“Leaving,” I blurted out, then cleared my throat. “I was just leaving. Work in the morning. Nice to meet you.” I tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a pained grimace.

I brushed past both of them, but hesitated on the top step. “Spencer…”

His gaze was inscrutable, and I was too tired to try to decipher it.

“Feel better,” I mumbled, and then I left them there.

*~*

I was not sulking.

I told myself this as I lounged on the couch in my most comfortable pyjamas, stuffing my face with junk food and watching Michael Scott lament his foot injury.

So what if Spencer was in love with a beautiful blonde while getting him to talk to me was like pulling teeth? It wasn’t like I’d been carrying a torch for him. We were just extremely compatible sexually. And in very close proximity to each other. That put us in the ideal position to hook up whenever we needed it. That was the extent of our relationship. For all I knew, he’d been sleeping with other people this whole time. I hardly had the right to protest it if he had. We hadn’t set up rules. We just fell into bed together as and when we liked.

It was a good, uncomplicated thing.

So I needed to make sense of whatever needless jealousy I was feeling, before I ruined it. I couldn’t sit around being pathetic. I had a life.

There was a knock on the door.

Sighing, I turned off the TV and put the snacks away. Spencer was quiet as I let him in. His eyes roamed the small living room as if he didn’t know his way around my place as well as he did his own. I perched on the arm of the couch and stared at him, hoping my face didn’t betray the rollercoaster of emotions I’d experienced over the last forty-eight hours.

“So,” I started, “you okay?”

He looked a bit startled, as if he hadn’t expected me to address it at all. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Yeah. I’m alright.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I prompted, “It was pretty intense.”

“It-uh, it was a work thing. JJ helped me out.”

Of course she did. “Great,” I said aloud.

We looked at each other for a beat. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“What?”

“The one you’re in love with?”

There was a telltale spot of red high on his cheeks, even as he sputtered. “That’s not-- I mean, yes, but that was--”

“It’s fine,” I said cheerily. “I was just curious.”

He frowned at me. “She’s my best friend, it’s not--”

“No, I get it.” My stomach was somewhere near my feet. “So, do you wanna fuck?”

Again, he seemed taken aback. “What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I directed my gaze at his meticulously polished shoes.

“No.” A pause. “I just wanted to say-- would you look at me for a second?”

I forced myself to comply.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you. For staying with me the other night.” The sincerity in his eyes was a bit too much to bear at the moment.

I hadn’t done anything, and I told him as much.

“You didn’t have to. Just being there was more than enough.”

“Right,” I said hollowly. “So is that it?”

“Yeah.” He seemed very lost. “Um, are you okay?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re acting kind of strange.”

“That’s because there isn’t usually this much talking,” I snapped.

I longed to smooth out the lines on his face and make him feel at ease again. This was supposed to be the good, uncomplicated thing. He was apparently making an effort. I could return the favour.

“I’m sorry,” I said, letting out a deep breath and rubbing a hand over my face. “Can I get you something to drink? We can talk about it if you want. Or just hang out.” I tried to squash down the hope that bloomed in my chest.

“Oh. Sure, if that’s okay.” He was chewing on his lip again, and it was unfairly appealing.

And so he stayed. I got two mugs of coffee, and when I came back, he was on my couch reading a well-worn paperback, as if he belonged there. I had to agree with the thought. When he heard me enter the room, he looked up with a smile.

When he left three hours later, I couldn’t remember what we’d talked about or the name of the book he’d abandoned within minutes, but I remembered the way he’d leaned close to me while gesturing wildly with his hands, and I remembered that we hadn’t touched beyond accidental brushes of our fingers the entire time.

He still hadn’t revealed the source of his despair, and I knew there was someone he loved. I knew whatever this was, it would be temporary.

But the smile on my face as I closed the door was real.

(v)

Spencer kept coming over. I was never given the chance to initiate contact because it seemed like he was always at my place. Whenever he was in the city, he would be with me. I started to worry about his apartment gathering cobwebs from the disuse. But I couldn’t honestly complain about this new development.

Sometimes we had sex, and sometimes we didn’t. Sometimes he came in sore and tired, other times he was brimming with excitement with a playful grin. Sometimes he was angry at the world and I was allowed to coax him down from his rage. Those nights were in turn infuriating and thrilling.

(“What happened?”

“Work.”

“That’s really helpful, Spencer, care to elucidate?”

“No.”

“Okay, caveman.”

“Shut up and take off your clothes.”

I’d rolled my eyes and complied.)

I enjoyed every bit of him. I wanted to observe and chart every one of his moods and his little quirks. I loved the small pile of his books that had found their way onto the coffee table. I loved introducing him to pop culture that he approached with the same diligence as he would a textbook of quantum physics. He was an eager student, and I attempted to return the favour whenever he launched into his obscure tirades.

Some nights I would drowsily let him in and he would crawl into bed with me, fully clothed. The following mornings, I would wake up with a silly grin on my face, seeing him utterly relaxed and at peace. We’d have breakfast in my kitchen and slowly come awake together over our steaming mugs of coffee.

It was fun, learning him.

In the dead of night, as I was drifting off to sleep, he would tell me bits and pieces of horrible things he’d had to see. All I could offer him then was a tight, protective embrace and a steady gaze as the words clawed their way out of his reluctant throat. It felt like he was giving me some sort of twisted boon, these revelations of his pain. I collected them just as carefully as I did everything else. If it was a part of him that was freely given, I knew I wanted it.

At intervals, I would have to remind myself that he wasn’t truly emotionally available. It wasn’t hard. I only had to picture JJ’s relieved smile and the raw uncloaked expression on his face that I had never seen again. He mentioned her every now and then, and I’d discovered that his godson was her child. He never seemed upset, talking about her family, but he wasn’t the kind of man who would resent another’s happiness, even if it was at the expense of his own. I knew that now. I still remembered the way he would pull away from me and flinch at my touch, and I knew I was playing a losing game. There was no way out of this where I didn’t get hurt. All I could do was try to control it.

Three months after that night outside our building, I knew I’d fallen for him.

I was in trouble and I needed to do something about it, quickly. So I stopped preemptively cancelling plans with my friends and coworkers. I joined a book club. I called in a guy to loudly fix my bathroom sink the day I knew Spencer would be getting home. I even got a gym membership. I tried to be away from home as much as I could.

Whenever Spencer texted me, I would let him know I was unavailable. His texts got progressively more frustrated. Watching the excitement on his face dim when I turned him away at my door was painful. But it was necessary. I convinced myself that when Spencer and I stopped existing in this vacuum without other people, my feelings would weaken and I would be able to get him out of my head.

It didn’t work, of course, and I spent every day missing him. I tried to distract myself with work and my suddenly-full schedule, but the feelings were still there. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking of him every morning and every night, and every time I passed his door and every time I walked by a bookstore.

So when Neil from work asked me out a week later, I said yes.

I wore a nice dress and heels, and he picked me up. We went to a midscale restaurant and talked about boring first-date things, and I knew within the first fifteen minutes that I didn’t want to see him again. I went through the motions, smiled pleasantly at him, and told him I would take a cab home. When I walked dejectedly up to my apartment, it took me a second to realise what I was looking at. My heart leapt and I dropped my keys.

Spencer was sitting on the floor outside my door, and he looked tireder and older than I’d ever seen him. He had looked up at my approach. I froze.

“Spencer.” I hadn’t seen him in a month.

He looked me up and down, and there was an unhappy tilt to his mouth. I wanted to kiss it away. He reached for the keys and rose to his feet.

“Hi.” He held them out to me, and I wanted to laugh and the eerie reflection of our first meeting.

“Hi,” I echoed.

“Were you on a date?”

There was no point in lying to him. “Yes.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching.

Silently, I unlocked the door and held it open. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked in.

He paced the floor of my living room. I took off my shoes and put my keys on the table, waiting for him to speak. I felt out of sorts and unprepared for what was to come. Even when I heard him come to a halt, I didn’t lift my gaze to meet his.

“Why would you-- I thought we had something.” His tone was heavy with accusation.

I stared back at him in challenge. “Sure. We had something. But I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking it was more than it was.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us! You. You send me all these mixed signals, and I know you’re still hung up on someone else but I let myself get in too deep anyway. I had to protect myself.”

“I’m not hung up on someone else,” he shouted, raising his hands in frustration.

“Of course you are!” I matched his volume. “You told me so yourself.”

“When did I do that?” He sounded honestly bewildered.

“A few months ago. You said you were in love with someone but she didn’t love you back. And then I saw you with JJ that day. I know it’s her. It’s okay. You didn’t promise me anything.”

Feeling drained, I wrapped my hands around my middle. The tears were threatening to fall, but I tried to hold them at bay. This would be over soon. It all would.

“JJ--” he barked out a laugh, surprising me.

“What about this situation is funny to you?” I demanded.

“No, listen--”

“You’re hot and you’re cold. You kick me out right after our first time and then you’re sweet the next day. How do you want me to feel about that?”

“I’m sorry about-”

“Trying to talk to you is impossible! I want to help you. But you clearly don’t want to talk to me!”

“That’s not--”

“And then you’re over here all the time, and I get that it’s because you want to distract yourself, but you have to know how it would con--”

“God, would you just shut up and listen to me for once?”

I glared up at him. He was undeterred, a strange glint in his eyes.

“I love you,” he informed me, striking me dumb. “It took me a while to realise it, but it’s true. I love you.”

All I could do was gape at him as he walked closer to me and took my tightly clenched fists in his hands. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was holding back. I’m trying to be better. And I don’t know what you thought you saw between me and JJ,” he said very slowly, stroking his thumbs gently over my palms, “but all that’s there is a lot of trauma and shared experiences. Yes, I thought I loved her once, but that was a long time ago. We’ve never-- she’s not you.”

Traitorously, that tendril of hope began to coil around my heart again as I searched his face, looking for a trace of a lie.

I found none.

I surged forward, crashing my lips to his with no finesse and too much force, but he was ready for me, releasing my hands and cradling my waist instead. I gripped his hair, letting the tears spill at last, an overjoyed laugh bubbling out of my throat and into his mouth. I let my hands roam the hard plane of his body, the delicious ripple of wiry muscle beneath his shirt, the hidden softness that only I could feel.

“I love you,” I told him when we broke apart for air. “I’m glad I can tell you, I love you, I fucking love you.” Spencer grinned down at me, and the look was so fond I had to kiss him again.

The rest was a blur of hastily discarded clothes and the steadfastly ignored pain of knocking into furniture before we finally found my bed and tumbled into it.

(“All this time, I could have had you,” I groaned into his ear while he thrust his fingers into me, mouthing along my jaw.

“You have me,” he promised into my skin an eternity later, when he was inside me and my nails were scrambling for purchase along his back, my vision going white.)

That night, there were no painful confessions or taunting insecurities. There were just the two of us, blissfully entwined together, and the deepest of dreamless sleeps. Somewhere in the middle of falling out and falling back together, we had found our new rhythm.

.fin.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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quillquiver · 4 years

Text

On SPN, Burying Your Gays, and Being Heard

I am shaking, I feel sick, I feel like I’m insane. And did I run a little wild with the theories? You bet. But you know what didn’t help? The botched clusterfuck that was this entire goddamn finale debacle. How was I supposed to believe anything they said in panels when M&G dialogue would leak saying the exact opposite? How was I supposed to grieve and move on when there was nothing from the cast and crew? Nobody said anything! And any info leaked just destabilized what we already knew or directly contradicted what we’d been told. In light of that, how was I supposed to trust anything anyone said? One rogue translator reciprocated the love confession and I was practically sold, because there were so many questions surrounding the English text that this was something good, something that logically fit, and something I wanted to hold onto.

Because they hurt me. This is about so much more than one episode or a ship; for years queer fans have seen ourselves in these characters and been told that we were crazy. That we were reading too much into it. I’m not sure how people get upset and offended when a storyline that doesn’t exist... doesn’t exist! said Guy Bee (2013). And then, after all of that, they turned around and said magnanimously, you have your version, I have mine... and that’s okay. But it’s not okay. It’s not okay, because that doesn’t erase what came before - that doesn’t erase the baiting and the gaslighting, and that invalidates everything we felt in the time leading up to that episode. It gave them an open window for all the subtext that came after. It allowed them to brush us off.

And then we got Cas’s love confession. I watched that scene about 500 times. Added to the rest of the season - to the fandom avatar being presented as successful and intelligent, to arc being the death of the author - I felt seen. Really seen, by a show that made it its mission to erase me. I had been okay with Cas dying at first because I had been sure the romance arc would carry through. I had been convinced that after everything, there was no way they would give that to us and then take it away.

But they did, because this is Supernatural. To anyone saying this is not bury your gays, I implore you to read up on the Hays Code. This link is to an amazing queer history podcast and the episode that covers it. In short, the Hays Code was a legal document that came about in 20th Century Hollywood during the puritanical war on the American entertainment industry, and it stipulated what was not allowed on screen. Not all of it was queer - there’s a whole section about kissing - but what the Code is most remembered for is that queerness was not allowed on screen. But queer people are resilient, and so they started testing the waters... and it turned out that you could in fact code queerness into a narrative, as long as it was subtextual, or as long as the queer character died/was punished, or both. The point is that the character is not allowed to live their truth openly. They are buried, either in the ground or punished in the narrative. The former is normally what we refer to these days, because the latter just doesn’t really happen anymore.

Until Supernatural.

Castiel is immediately punished for speaking his truth - and please don’t tell me he leveraged that punishment and so he had agency. Literally the only thing that could make him happy was confessing his feelings, and so the Empty deal was directly related to this idea of queerness-as-punishment. That being said, Bobo wrote a beautiful scene. Cas’s confession was a love letter to queerness and coming out... but everything that came after buried him. Castiel may have ended the series alive but he was effectively written out of the last two episodes, and that means that he actually never really got to live his truth. He was silenced by the narrative - that is punishment.

Dean is a whole other can of worms. Does one rogue translator confirm canon bi!Dean? Or do we have to read our own version of the text? The fact that we even have to ask these questions firmly places us in the realm of queerbaiting. Were the writers trying to get bi!Dean approved but were unable to? I have no idea, but queerbaiting requires proof that the writers encouraged a reading they had no intent of following through on, and we certainly don’t lack in evidence of that. Not from this writers room, but from those of previous eras. Did these writers try? They might have, but the funny thing about queerbaiting discourse is that there has never been a show to bait this long, and I’m making the call that even if you tried at the end, you baited me with half the ship and all the years that came before.

Of course, the narrative leaves open the possibility of bi!Dean so if you do read the show that way, that means Dean also falls into the bury your gays category; if you read the show this way - which many of us do - the mere suggestion that Dean Winchester was bisexual was enough to punish him. And he was punished. We’ve all written extensively on this, but he was given a random death, on a case his father never finished. All that growth, all that time spent having him accept himself, love himself, that was all taken away. He died the way he always thought he would: as a tool, in service of his father, protecting his brother. He had always believed he’d been a body to throw on the sword and in the end that’s all he was. And when he gets to Heaven? He’s also silenced. He barely speaks in the episode except to monologue during his death, and that is 100% Sam-centric. He is scared.

It was horrific to watch. I sobbed so hard my roommate was seriously concerned.

I had been fully prepared for Supernatural to end disappointingly. I had figured everything would end with a huge heaven reunion because white, straight, cis-male S&F writers love the idea of death as a reward, but instead of being disappointed I felt like I had witnessed a slaughter. Every single one of the queer themes intrinsic to the show: found family, resilience, speaking your truth... were gone. And I know we’ve talked about this too, but it bears repeating, because in doing this, in writing the queerness out of its narrative, Supernatural effectively looked every one of us queer folx in the eye and said: you are not important. You don’t matter. All of that stuff that came before is all good and well, but what really matters at the end of all things is blood family. It’s two brothers in a car. Life sucks but at least we get to die and go to paradise - real paradise, that your angel buddy died for and then made for you and who we never hear from again.

I felt insane. I felt cheated. I felt humiliated. I felt devastated. I still feel all those things, but listen to me. You have been heard. Not by Misha Collins, who is a great guy, but doesn’t get it. Not by Jensen Ackles, who is a similarly great guy, but also just doesn’t understand. And not by anyone else who worked on this show.

You know who heard you? Me. The people who follow me. The people who follow you. We saw each other, and heard each other, and we gave each other a leg up. We made memes. We wrote fic. We drew fanart. We made gifs. All for ourselves and all for each other. We broke Tumblr multiple times. We donated over $60,000 USD to multiple different causes. We got multiple hashtags trending at multiple different points, and today kept it up because we demanded answers and then we got them. There were at least 5 articles written about the show today. We made that happen. We made people listen.

Supernatural didn’t deserve me, and it didn’t deserve you. It didn’t deserve Dean. It didn’t deserve Cas. It didn’t deserve Misha and Jensen. But this show ended with a bleak, awful message and we turned around and showed them that love is loud. So what about all of this is real?

We are.

#alex talks #spngate #archived #this was very therapeutic #and i honestly don't know if i will ever be able to love something like this again #because i have been burned oh man #but this fandom is amazing #and i am proud to be a part of it #and i am not going anywhere #journaling #15x18 #15x19 #15x20 #castiel #dean winchester #destiel

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captmickey · 2 years

Text

Save A Founder, a Three Adventurers fanfic

Based on The Three Adventures and the Founder Threepwood AU, a what-if scenario if Link went to save Guybrush...

Can be read here on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He snuck into the mansion in the dead of night after recognizing the monkey sigil on the outside. It took him some time as he found himself running around the massive buildings, avoiding any colonists or guards and getting confused where he was, but eventually he found what he was looking for. Admittedly, in comparison to the other mansions, it was not nearly as massive, but it was still large. He surveyed the building, trying to find an opening (since he figured going through the front door of the bullet-ridden and slightly burnt and collapsing building was going to warrant him a bullet or an arrow between his eyes) when he found a weak spot in the form of a window loosely open. Looking around to be sure no one was watching, Link grabbed the ledge and swiftly leaped inside the building, ducking from sight and counting to ten before moving forward.

The interior was fine, sans the broken vases, glass and discarded blades, but Link’s hands kept twitching, kept itching for the hilt of the sword as he tried listening carefully to his surroundings. He made it this far without being spotted and frankly had zero intent on being caught now.

Quietly moving, Link made his way to what he could only hope was Guybrush’s office based mainly on the papers strewn about the room. One paper in particular, one that did not look to have been cast aside, laid still at the desk. Curiosity got the best of him as the Hylian stepped closer, picking up the parchment with a letter of a meeting, signed with a sigil of an arm and a cutlass. He skimmed through it once, twice, three times before he heard a click from behind.

“You have five seconds to step away before I put a bullet in you.” An angry and tired British voice threatened.

Recognizing who it was, Link dropped the parchment and raised his arms up, showing no ill will. “Elaine?” He tried to turn his head but felt the nuzzle of the gun pressed up against the back of his head.

“Don’t move.” She hissed.

Link nodded, not wanting to press his luck exactly. “If you need me to prove it’s myself, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

A pause of silence lingered in the room “Right… turn around. Slowly.”

Once more, he nodded and turned around, his arms still up. He had to refrain from gasping as it had been far too long since he last saw her. The exhaustion in the form of bags under her eyes were obvious as that familiar light was gone, streaks of grey littered her red hair that was pulled in a loose bun. But more than anything, the one thing that grabbed Link’s attention was the anger that replaced the kindness he was so familiar with. But for a brief moment, for a sliver of a second, it came back as she barely lowered her gun.

“Link…?”

“Hi.” He gave a sheepish wave.

“What…” she clicked the safety back into place and stepped back, looking to be debating if this was real or not, “what in the seven hells are you doing here? More… more importantly, how are you here?”

“I followed some clues after thinking like a pirate and found this place. Was a fun challenge though.” Link tried to joke, to make light, but when he saw she wasn’t budging just cleared his throat. “Um, can I lower my arms now?”

She permitted with a nod, pocketing her weapon.

Doing as such, Link continued. “The truth is, I was looking for you all. Graham and I got worried when we hadn’t heard back from Guybrush and I decided to go find the man myself. Asked around and heard about a supposed Paradise, which then had me going across the globe as I followed the clues and, well, here I am.”

Elaine stared at him. “You came to rescue him?”

“Well, more like finding so I can yell at–” Link froze. “Wait. Rescue? Where’s Van Winslow? What’s going on?”

“I was on my way to rescue Guybrush… Winslow is on the ship ready to sail out.” Her eyes lowered, looking at the parchment on the floor with the arm and cutlass insignia. “We don’t have much time… but if you’re here to help, then I think we have a chance at saving him. Here’s what happened…”

—-

He hid in the foliage as the guards walked by, his fingers twitching ready to reach for the hilt of his blade should they look his way. Instead, he slowly exhaled, relieved that they marched on by, unaware of his presence as they continued to talk about a topic he was clearly unaware of, and made his way towards the largest mansion sitting at the top of the hill.

Link went over his loose idea of a plan in his head once more, trying to make sure he got what he wanted to do down pat that his body didn’t need to do more than to go off muscle memory: Get in, get Guybrush, get out. Simple, clean, and hopefully effective. This was the best case scenario of a plan should the room be empty and with no guards, because it would mean it would be a quiet and easy escape and if he was even more lucky, caught the pirate before anything more severe were to happen.

In the worst case…

He shivered. He didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario. If spotting that letter at Guybrush’s mansion, if anything Elaine told him and overhearing those guards in the kitchen were any indication, these poor Founders were about to meet an untimely demise. And one of them, to Link’s horror, was Guybrush.

No, he couldn’t let that happen. He refused to let that happen. The Hylian made two promises before he set off on his solo adventure. One was to find and rescue the missing prince, Alexander. The other was to bring back his friend. And while the former was proving to be more challenging than he initially thought (there were barely any clues or sightings of the young prince), finding Guybrush proved to be shockingly easier. And who knows, if he was extremely lucky, perhaps Alexander was on this island as well… but deep down he knew it was too much of a longshot, otherwise the pirate would have been back at Daventry, prince in hand.

But that was assuming the best case scenario.

Link shook his head and continued his trek through the hidden path, trying to get his thoughts quiet so as to focus on his surroundings. —- He hopped down from the window and quickly rushed to hide behind a pillar, hoping none of the guards spotted his entrance. He was thankful that they were, for the most part, oblivious to their surroundings as they continued to stay put… they were pirates through and through, he guessed as they talked about a pile of gold waiting for them. Guess you could never take the pirate out of the guard, he thought, keeping a close eye on them and waiting for them to move. If he had to guess where he was, and based on the guards standing there, he was only a room away from entering the dining hall. Where Guybrush was. He was so close that all he wanted to do was kick the door down and make his way in, but he knew that was a reckless plan. He had to be smart and patient about this.

However, when he realized that the two guards were not going to budge, he frowned and tried to think of a new way to the main dining hall.

Think, Link, think. He looked around the hallway, trying to see if there was perhaps another entrance in. He didn’t have the luxury of just standing around and wondering about a new plan, especially when he smelled something foul not too far away and heard muffled voices, slowly rising, slowly fading.

The clock was ticking and he needed to get moving, especially when the plan was under a fairly tight schedule. He dug into his bag, trying to see if he had anything that could help when he felt the hard exterior of the deku nut and pulled it out. The small seed was an effective weapon, as when it was tossed and the shell cracked, it released a blinding light, temporarily stunning the enemy and giving the throw a brief window to run in or attack. The drawback was that if the thrower didn’t cover their eyes, they could be stunned as well.

Link looked to the hallways at the bored but alert guards, rubbing his thumb on the seed’s shell. He could stun them, knock them out and run in. Or he could toss it and draw their attention away.

Both terrible plans as there were too many factors that could go against Link. But he furrowed his brow and gripped the seed.

It was going to have to do.

—-

Link slammed the door open, hand on the hilt of his blade as he was ready to strike when he saw the grand dining room. The equally grand table was littered with the bodies of other pirates, none of them moving, none of them reacting. But at the end of the table, reclined back, was the pirate that had the Hylian's heart drop.

He was barely breathing, his lips having turned into a slight shade of blue. ‘Corpse’ was the word that popped front and center as he watched Guybrush’s chest barely move, straining to get any air in.

Link knew that time was of the essence, that he couldn’t just sit and stare as Guybrush’s life was rapidly slipping away right before him and reached into his bag to pull out the small vial containing an antidote. It was a small amount compared to the chalices that laid about on the table. If the quantity of the poison was drunk compared to the vial, the antidote was not enough to heal his friend entirely, but it would be just enough to bring him back from the edge of death. And that’s what he needed. He needed Guybrush conscious enough to carry out back to the hidden ship.

Looking around to make sure that the room was truly safe from any guards, Link uncorked the vial and gently moved his hand behind Guybrush’s head. It was terrifying how heavy it was starting to feel but he pushed aside those bubbling worries and swiftly placed it against the pirate’s lips, tilting his head slowly so that he could properly drink it and not accidentally choke. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally speed up Guybrush’s end by having him choke on the antidote while being poisoned from the inside out.

“C’mon…” Link muttered to himself, hoping that the effects would kick in sooner rather than later, he knew that potions and the such in Hyrule and Daventry were rather potent, more powerful than in most places but even still, it was never a guarantee it would work. He could only hope that whatever it was that was keeping an eye on Guybrush decided to be merciful to him instead of insisting on being cruel. Even hoping that the Goddesses were watching over and would offer their aid. With the vial emptied, Link tossed it to the side and carefully made sure that not a single drop was spilled or spat out, keeping his eyes on the pirate and listening to anything irregular pass his raspy breathing. He decided to count to ten before thinking of maybe pumping his chest, maybe to help expedite the antidote, but for now decided on holding Guybrush’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. “C’mon Guybrush, wake up…” he began pleading, “you can’t go down like this. Not here. C’mon…”

The sounds of heavy breathing slowly came to a crawl and Link felt his heart drop, rationale and faith went out the window as franticness took over the Hylian.

“No, no no no, c’mon!” Link pushed his hands over Guybrush’s chest. “You can’t go, not now, not when we’re so close to going home!” He began pushing his hands. “We can’t lose you too, get up!” He hated the sound of how terrified his own voice sounded, but the thought of losing his friend struck something fierce in his heart. “Get up… get up!” He knew the antidote was a fifty-fifty chance, he knew that the amount he had was probably not enough compared to the chalice, he knew finding Guybrush before the meeting was an absolute long shot, yet he could not let go of the off-chance that the pirate would make it, that against all odds Guybrush would beat Death yet again.

Link was chosen by the Goddesses, he was fated to be the Chosen Hero who would protect the people, act as the sword and shield for Hylia. He was told time and time again how his destiny was a selfless one, yet it was befriending the pirate that made him reconsider that blindly following what he was told wasn’t always everything. That sometimes it was perfectly fine to be selfish. And right now, at this very instance, Link so selfishly wanted Guybrush back. Ever since the end of their last adventure, Link found himself missing the pirate. He missed his quips, his sarcastic responses to serious situations, the way that he found some way to alleviate the crushing weight of everything using either his words or lending a shoulder. He did not want to say goodbye to that, not if he had the chance to save him. He refused to say goodbye.

He kept pushing, kept pleading, kept blinking back the burning sting in his eyes as Guybrush remained still. “Get up… wake up… please just wake up…!” Link begged, giving one final and powerful push against the pirate’s chest.

The Hylian fell back on the ground, startled as Guybrush let out a loud gasp before coughing violently, gripping onto the armrest of his chair as he kept hacking. Link blinked once, twice, before getting up quickly and grabbing onto Guybrush who still looked horribly frail. He moved his hand on Guybrush’s back, slamming as hard as he could against his spine as if the pirate was choking a good handful of times before Guybrush leaned over and let out whatever was in his system. It reeked and it took a lot out of the Hylian to not gag, but the sense of hope that had his body shake overpowered the disgust.

Guybrush leaned back against his chair, gasping for air as he tried to blink his eyes into focus while Link grabbed from his pouch a canteen filled with water, moving himself to help the pirate drink. He didn’t take a lot, in fact he spat it back out to the ground, but the pirate looked over at him, his eyes still distant and glazed over. It took him a minute, like he was trying to piece the name with the face before squinting his eyes. “...Link?”

There wasn’t any time for any of their usual wake up banter, not like how it was done in the past, but there was just enough time for Link to wrap his arms around Guybrush and hold him tight, unable to stop himself from shaking. “Y-yeah, yeah it’s me. It’s me.” He kept reassuring, his distant demeanor vanishing at the sound of hearing the pirate’s voice again after so long. “It’s me.” He rested his face in the crook of the pirate’s neck, ignoring the fact that he was at a table filled with dead pirates, former colleagues of Guybrush, relishing the fact that his friend was back and felt arms around him holding him fairly close, though not nearly as tight as his own hug.

“I don’t…” Guybrush struggled with his words, seeming to gasp for air. “Elaine…?”

Link pulled from the hug, as much as it pained him. “She’s fine. So is Winslow. I’ll explain everything but we need to leave.”

Guybrush looked at him confused with what he was saying and looked at the table before him. His eyes widened as he was able to put together quickly what had happened. “A… Avery… he–” Guybrush stopped and began coughing once more, leaning forward with each heavy cough. “Poison… he tried to…” Guybrush rasped.

He also tore down homes from what Link saw on his way here, but that was something the Hylian kept to himself, instead helping the pirate sit back up. “We can talk about it later, but we really need to move… Can you walk?” That was a dumb question, he thought, of course he can’t. He can barely speak, what makes him think he could walk? But he supposed that was just muscle memory that kicked in to ask. He saw Guybrush try to move himself, to try and stand, but quickly fell back into his seat, looking more like a puppet without its strings from the way his lanky arms flailed against the armrest. The pirate shook his head.

Tired blue eyes looked at him, the fog was still covering his sight, but at least he looked to recognize Link. “I can’t…” he tried speaking, “can’t leave…”

No… no no no, he came too far to give up now. Link frowned and bent down. “Yes you can, I’ll help. C’mon.”

He moved an arm around Guybrush’s waist while moving his other arm around Link’s shoulder. His ear twitched for the sounds of distant voices and footsteps, his stomach twisted in a fierce knot at the idea of fighting. It was easier to face the guards alone, he could take them down one by one with ease. It was significantly harder when he had a barely conscious pirate leaning their entire weight against him and unable to fend for himself. Guybrush, however, let out a tired and pained groan as Link tried to lift him, his legs truly not cooperating but the pirate wasn’t fighting back against the assistance either.

“Stop…” Guybrush moaned. “Link… stop…!”

“No can do, we need to go.” Link argued. He frowned when he felt Guybrush weakly tug away, trying to go back to that accursed seat. “Wha– we don’t have time–!”

“Move…!” With all of his strength, Guybrush shoved Link aside as the sound of a gun fired off, barely grazing the Hylian’s face as the bullet penetrated the wall in the back.

In that moment, in that instant, Link knew he was caught. The worst case scenario was in effect. Quickly turning around, Link looked at the bulking pirate with the smoking gun pointed his way. He could hear Guybrush’s raspy breath quickening while the pirate before him took another step closer with a hand on his hilt. Link, in turn, gripped the handle of his own blade, ready to draw it out.

The two locked eyes, staring each other down in silence. Link contemplated the various methods he could do against this potential foe: negotiation was out the window as the pirate fired at him, so all that was left was to render the man unconscious or to strike him down, then and there. Behind him, he heard Guybrush trying to sit up but failing.

“A… Avery… Avery, stop…” Guybrush weakly pleaded.

Link’s heart dropped to his stomach. Before him was none other than the monster of Libertalia Elaine had mentioned earlier. The one who tricked and encaptured pirates from all over with the grand delusion of a utopia. The one that, as he sees it, tried to kill his friend. “Henry Avery…” Link hissed under his breath.

“Aye, that’s me.” The pirate responded, almost proud. “The real question is…” he pulled back the safety, “who are you? And why are you reviving the dead?”

Something began bubbling in Link’s chest, it was more than determination or obligation… it was something else, something raw. The more he looked at Avery’s demeanor, the way he threw his weight around, the more Link wanted to see this titan fall. The word, shortly after, began to flash in his mind what that bubbling feeling was: Rage.

Staying silent, Link drew his blade and fell into position, anger burning in his eyes as he stared the pirate down. He was leaving Libertalia, and he was leaving with Guybrush. Alive. Whether this monster liked it or not.

And the only way to do that was to aim the gun at himself, away from Guybrush.

Link reached for a plate on the table and tossed it at Avery who predictably shot it, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. And that made the gun unusable as it was out of bullets. He charged at the pirate, his sword ready and struck the pirate, quickly blocking as Avery drew out his own blade and swung it at him. The two swung a few more times but each hit was met with another block, another hard spark. He knew Guybrush to be one of the best fighters he had the honor of sparring with, but he had no idea that Avery would be just as capable as with each strike, the pirate would block.

Eventually realizing the striking strongly was not getting him anywhere, Link shifted himself to try and swing from below upward, which was enough to have Avery stumble backwards, startled for a brief moment before swinging the butt of the gun into Link’s head hard enough to fall on the floor and see the room spinning. It definitely did not help when he felt a sharp blow to his face that came in the form of Henry Avery’s boot. He hardly had time to block the incoming pistol, let alone kick, but he was still conscious enough to scream at himself to get up, to grip his sword and strike.

Tossing the gun to the side, he saw Avery pull out a second pistol, hearing the telltale click of the safety. He watched in horror as the pirate aimed it at Guybrush, who could still barely move, point blank. The room was a spinning whirlwind and all he wanted to do was close his eyes, but he knew if he did that, if he hesitated for another second, neither of them would be leaving alive.

Link stumbled himself into standing up, trying to push down the growing nausea he was feeling, and let instinct take over. And that instinct screamed to protect Guybrush at all costs.

He charged as fast as he could towards Avery, tackling the pirate off kilter and grabbing his arm, aiming it upward and forcing him to fire his gun to the ceiling.

“You pathetic excuse of a brat!” Avery shouted, backhanding the Hylian off of him and to the ground, he aimed his gun at him and clicked the safety off. “See you in hell.”

The Hylian glared bitterly, when suddenly he heard a voice break through.

“You first.”

The sound of another gun firing off rang the room, the shot having forced the pistol out of Avery’s hand and clatter to the floor. Avery gripped his wrist, cursing a storm as Link turned his head and saw in the entry Elaine standing there, a smoking gun in one hand and a cutlass in the other.

“Elaine!” He gasped and stood up, the room still spinning but at least there was help.

“Get your sword!” She ordered, her eyes not once moving from the pirate.

“What, no chance for mercy?” Avery mocked, his sword aimed at her. “Isn’t that the idiotic ideology your husband kept spewing?”

“From the looks of it in this room, to give you that would be an insult to the ten here.” She hissed. “No, the only way you’re leaving this room is as a corpse.”

Link tried to push himself to grab his sword, tried moving away from being in the cross center of their weapons. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Guybrush moving his arm, reaching for something but the massive seat made it impossible for Link to see what he was grabbing.

“I always knew that you were what made him weak. He would have been the greatest pirate were it not for you.”

“You would have killed him regardless of me as you have so easily slayed your brethren so spare me your meaningless words and your breath and perish like the vermin you are.”

“I would have given them Paradise had they not betrayed me.” He snarled.

“How dare you speak more lies over their corpses.” She threatened.

“You know what you are, woman? You’re just like your pathetic husband. A nothing. A nobody. A leeching, lying, manipulative, thieving whor–” Avery stopped and let out a loud scream and Link looked over, noticing the knife that was plunged into the pirate’s back.

For a moment, for a sliver of a second, the look in Guybrush’s eyes was not the usual rational one he was so familiar with… instead it was replaced with something raw. Something feral. And it scared him to his very core.

“For God and Liberty, you bastard…!” Guybrush said, his words sounding almost hollow.

With one hand, Avery struck the hilt of the blade against Guybrush to get the pirate off of him, rendering the blond unconscious in his seat as he tried gripping his wound. “You bastard…! You thieving traitorous bastard!” He raised his sword and aimed it at the unconscious pirate.

Time slowed down as Link grabbed his sword, charging as fast as he could towards Avery and barely able to deflect the attack against his friend.

“You stay out of this, you unholy abomination!” Avery hissed. “You have nothing to do with this land!”

“I don’t, but I won’t stand by idly and watch.” Link raised his blade, standing between Guybrush and Avery. “I’m ending this.”

Before Avery could speak, before he could retort, Link charged and began striking at Avery, some strikes landing, some deflected, but the more he fought, the more he pushed the pirate away from Guybrush. The two kept going, blow after blow, until sparks were all that could be seen with each strike. He wanted to end this, to finish this once and for all, but for Avery to match his every hit and with the room spiraling, it was proving to be impossible.

The Goddesses must have shown their love as soon Elaine came charging in with her own sword, helping Link fight against Avery. Each strike was being met into the monster more and more, deeper and deeper. It looked closer to that of a dance with the way the two of them moved around Avery in a whirlwind of blades until finally, eventually, they both struck him down from the front and from the back. He collapsed to let out a choked garble… his venomous words caught in his dying throat as he looked over at them. Link’s ear twitched as he heard a gun click, turning over and saw Guybrush gripping the table, barely standing and brandishing Avery’s abandoned pistol in his hand. He shouldn’t be moving, he shouldn’t be able to, but Link could only watch as Guybrush, who had hatred in his eyes, aimed the gun at Avery.

“Send… the Founders my regards…” Guybrush condemned.

“Traitorous thief.” Avery spat.

The room rang loudly as Guybrush pulled the trigger and the once leader of the Founder fell to the ground, lifeless. Link couldn’t help but jump… he grew to hate the sounds of gunfire, but he looked and saw Guybrush back in the seat, the smoking gun barely held in his hand. He made a run for the pirate with Elaine by his side, noticing his head lolling to the side.

Link gently shook the blond. “H-hey, you still with us?”

He let out a tired groan, but opened his eyes to look at the two. Guybrush barely shrugged before closing his eyes again.

“Guybrush?” Elaine brushed back a strand of his hair, taking the gun out of his hand. “Link, what happened?”

“Avery poisoned him. I-I gave him an antidote but it’s not enough. He needs help. Proper help.” Link looked at her. “Help me carry him.” He sheathed his sword, scooping his arms once more to help the pirate up again.

“Right, up we go.” She moved her arms, helping the pirate finally stand.

He hated seeing how Guybrush’s head hung low, but even the small grunts and moans was enough for the Hylian to know that he was still here. Still alive.

The three of them began to move, with Elaine and Link doing most of the walking as Guybrush was just barely able to lift his feet up. They walked past the corpse of Henry Avery, stopping for a moment to look at the lifeless look in his eyes…

“For God and Liberty.” Elaine spat.

Link’s ears twitched as he heard the sounds of footsteps and distant voices, looking at Elaine. “They’re coming–”

“Don’t worry, this way. I cleared the path for us.” She said, guiding them out of the forsaken mansion. “Winslow is waiting for us.”

—-

Link sat at the steps by the throne, his gaze being at the floor thinking of everything that had happened. It was all a blur on how he got from Thomas Tew’s mansion to Graham’s castle honestly. But he knew that if it weren’t for Elaine helping clear the path, weren’t for the fact that Winslow made sure any of Tew’s or Avery’s men were gunned down and away from the ship, weren’t for the fact that Graham swung the doors to his castle wide open simply because Daventry was closer than Hyrule… he would have seen an end alongside Guybrush right then and there in Libertalia.

But even with knowing all that, whether or not his antidote fully worked was still an enigma. Guybrush was breathing on the journey here, true, but he did not wake once. And that worried him… worried Elaine.

If only he was faster or arrived sooner, maybe he could have prevented the pirate from ever drinking from the chalice– no. Stop. He rubbed his face, trying to stop thinking about the what ifs. It didn’t help anyone, especially himself.

The door opened and Link looked up, spotting the now king of Daventry walk over to him, rubbing his eyes. Link immediately stood up, ready to rush over.

“H-how is he? Is he okay? Is–”

“Guybrush is fine… don’t worry. Did you reach out to Zelda?” Graham then asked, putting a hand on the Hylian and sitting him back down on the steps and joining him.

“I– yeah, I did. She should get word soon that I’m here.” Link shook his head.

“Okay, that’s good.” The king nodded. “You um… haven’t been sleeping.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you’ve been up since you came back.”

“No I…” Link saw Graham raise a brow at him. “Well, maybe, but so has Elaine and Winslow.”

“Eh… not true.” Graham shrugged. “They’re finally asleep. Granted, in the same room where Guybrush is, but they looked to be at ease once they realized he’ll be alright.” He paused. “Physically, anyways.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Link, what happened back there? Elaine started talking about it but she keeps stopping… and I don’t want to push her on the subject. Not when it’s raw. But I need–” he put a hand on his arm, “I want to know what happened.”

Link ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath. “You said he’s okay? He’s going to be fine? You’re certain?”

“Yes. The doctors gave him the proper medicine and herbs after what you and Elaine explained and he should be fine after some proper sleep. They’re going to keep a close eye on him and see if there are any changes with him, but for now… for now he’s fine.” He gave a small smile. “I have Kyle and Larry on guard to let me know when he’s awake so we can go see him together.”

Link stared at him for a moment before looking away. “Remember how I said that something was wrong with the last letter Guybrush sent? Turns out I was right. I should have gone right after that letter, and thankfully, I was lucky to have found him as it happened.” If Graham was this calm, this rational, then perhaps Guybrush was truly okay. And if so… it never hurt to share, he figured. Besides, he distinctly recalled Guybrush critiquing him in the past that his storytelling was terrible since he never started from the beginning. He took a breath. “It started when I heard of pirates talking about Paradise…”

He wasn’t sure how long he was telling the tale, but Graham never stopped him once. His attention was undivided which made the Hylian feel guilty since he was keeping the king’s attention away from the kingdom… away from the search for his own missing son. But he would be lying if he didn’t admit that telling the story, getting it off of his chest, felt good.

“After that… we rushed our way to Winslow, we looked at the map and found Daventry to be closer than Hyrule. Which, again, thank you for taking us… taking them in like that.”

Graham looked taken aback. “Like I was going to close the door on you all. I’ve said before in the past that the doors to Daventry are always welcome. To both you and Guybrush.”

Just then, the door opened and Larry rushed in, taking a breath.

“Larry? What’s wrong?” Graham asked, on guard and bracing himself.

“Sire– Graham, he’s awake. Guybrush is awake and talking… Mrs. Threepwood is asking for the two of you.”

The two looked at one another for a moment, taking in the news. But quickly with no hesitations, the two stood up, and without having to talk, without having to plan, the two ran out of the throne room to where Guybrush was residing.

They had a lot to catch up on.

#mickey writes #the three adventurers #founder threepwood au

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romantic-barnes · 4 years

Text

strawberry & tape | part six

| part six - take a shot, cherry schnapps |

Pairings: dark!biker!bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has the town in his hands and a lot of blood. All you have is a cafe your mother left you after her passing. But as Bucky’s attention moves to you, do you have the strength to pay revenge for his wrongdoings? Does your push into the dark paradise end in love or blood?

Warnings: mention of suicide, possessiveness, violence This is dark bucky! please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics mentioned above!

A/N: I know this is a little short but believe me it’s worth it. The next part will be the last and I cannot wait to show you how it ends! Please don’t read if you are under 18!

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

'Cause if we don't leave this town We might never make it out I was not born to drown Baby come on

It was early when you woke. Eyes opening heavily, focused on the window. You sensed the emptiness beside you, but fear still struck, soaring through your veins. You rolled onto your back, head slowly turning to find Bucky gone from beside you. But you knew he was just there mere minutes ago, his perfume lingering on the sheets, swirling in the air.

You dressed yourself, washed your face and walked out of the room. The dining room looked like a distant nightmare to you, but this time the chairs were empty; except for one: Bucky’s. He sat with his arm resting on the table, shovelling food into his mouth. The floor beneath you creaked as you stepped further into the room, a betrayal from the house with love. Bucky’s head rose, gaze roaming over your body.

You sat opposite him, afraid to move too fast. Bucky’s eyes met yours briefly before travelling down your arm to your hand laying atop the wood. A smile creeping onto his face at the sight of the diamond adorning your finger. His proud prize, his bride to be.

You ate in silence with the eyes of Bucky following your every move, the plate clearing of food painfully slow. Once you finished, you rose from your seat trying to find the words but as your eyes met his, every single word you’ve ever known escaped, fled from your head. Bucky’s eyebrows raised at your silence, arms resting beside the plate. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked curiously, but you caught the sarcasm.

You nodded, opening your mouth. “I’m going into work today.” Your mouth tasted like cardboard. “Darling.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up, a flash of silver in his iris. “Good for you. It’s important to be busy. You might want to look for someone to take over the cafe though. Better start looking now before it’s too late.”

Your breath caught itself in your throat. “Why?” You squeaked out.

“Because once we have children you won’t be able to take care of a business. I need you here full time. Take care of my offspring and the house, then it will be your responsibility.”

The thought alone frightened you. This house wasn’t a home, its wasn’t a place for children to grow up and you knew that no one should grow up having Bucky as a father. A man so wicked and demonic it was impossible to imagine him running around town with a baby in his arms. The possibility of him killing the child was too high and him strangling you in your sleep was way too possible.

You started to see the cafe with your mother’s eyes. The first glance, shiny and cute, fading with every blink. The paint chipping at the corners, chairs crooked and the smell of your mothers dead body in the back slowly making it’s way through the vents.

You got everything ready for opening, but your mind was anxious about Mrs Wilson’s arrival, eyes jumping to the door in hopes to see her walking up the stairs, but she wasn’t there. Hours and hours went by and no sight of her. The possibility of an escape became slippy, flowing through your dry hands.

You stared out of the window, lips parted and chapped. Your breath the only prove that you’re alive, the rising and falling of your chest, shaky but there. The beating of your heart confirming the life inside you, but the rest of your body was still, limb. Outside the sun was shining, rays of sunlight flowing through the trees, passing branches on the way down to the ground.

The sound of the clock brought you back to life. Time. You looked over at it, hope further slipping between your fingers. It was time to clean up. Like you were in trance you started your routine but movement from the corner of your right eye surprised you.

And there she was. Mrs Wilson climbed the stairs to the door and as the bell rang she stepped inside dressed in blue. Her eyes met yours and her face lit up. “Y/n, good to see you.” She stood in front of you. “Sorry for being so late I was held up by Stephen at the post office he- are you alright?”

You shook your head slightly to focus. Her eyes staring into yours with worry. “I- yes I’m fine. Just worried you wouldn’t come that’s it.”

“You look sick.”

You wiped your forehead, the back of your hand coating in sweat. “I just want to know that your plan is going to work.”

Mrs Wilson reached over the counter to place her hand on your shoulder. “Sadly I can’t promise anything, but it’s worth a try. The plan is safe as long as it stays between us.” Her lips curled to a reassuring smile but worry still found it’s way into your blood, flowing through my arms and down my legs. “So you agree to it? You’ll be there?”

You simply nodded your head.

“Alright. On Saturday you are going to work just like you did today, at one fourty-five you’ll leave but make sure you keep everything as it is. That means lights on, food still on display. You have to take Elsberg street instead of Köpenick street, it’s that weirs smelling ally to the right.You’ll come out to the back of Magnolia Flowers and that’s where he’ll meet you.”

“Does he know that I’m escaping?”

“No, he just thinks he’s giving you a ride to the city to visit family. Once you’re in the city though, my friend Ally will take you in, she owns a pet store in the east and will take you there.”

You swallow thickly. This plan required you to leave not only Dawn, but also move to the other side of the country.

You started cleaning up as soon as Mrs Wilson left and a sense of hope lit within you, a light sparking in you heart. You turned off the lights in the back and heard the bell chimed gain thinking it was Mrs Wilson gain you walked to the front, but instead of her it was Bucky standing in the middle of the cafe.

He stood there with flowers in his hands and as you approached him you thought the light within you would die, but it didn’t. It kept on burning.

“Come one, darling.” Bucky handed you the flowers and gestured for you to leave. While you walked towards his bike, Bucky’s demeanour frightened you. What if he heard you and Mrs Wilson talk? As if the walls turned to linnen, thin enough to hear the words of betrayal in his ears.

Your couldn’t read his face as you sat behind him on his bike, flowers in one hand and the other holding on to his body for dear life. The houses passed you with speed, wind blowing beneath the helmet and all seemed so easy. You had no idea where Bucky was going but you didn’t care about that either. Tomorrow was coming and with the sun lowering behind Dawn you were reassured it was.

The calm of knowing that you will be gone from here.

Bucky came to a stop and you looked at the destination ahead of you. A small bar with motorcycles standing all around it. The neon sign flickering with every letter. With the flowers in hand you walked behind Bucky into the gloomy atmosphere, a change of scenery from the dull environment you were usually in. A place foreign to you.

Bucky led you through the room to a table full of familiar faces. You didn’t know their names nor did you need to. A quick glance from everyone and you sat down, laying the flowers atop the table.

Bucky ordered round after round, encouraging you to take a drink as well, but you knew you needed a good nights sleep for tomorrow. So Bucky and the other Howling Commandos kept their stomachs full of beer and the air full of words. You sat quietly, observing the people around you until someone mentioned your name.

“Are those flowers from Magnolia? Bucky you’re a gentlemen.” Your head turned to the flowers on the table and it was true. They are from Magnolia flowers. Lana. She worked there.

“Yes, they are.” Bucky’s arm swung around your shoulders. “Best flower shop in town.”

Your chest tightened at the mention. You looked at Bucky and his smirk stopped the blood flowing through your veins. It was intentional. It has to be. Satanic. That’s the only word you could describe his intention. Bucky’s lack of sympathy and the maniacal actions he had shown you over the moths you’ve known him were driving you to near insanity. He was mad.

You looked back at the flowers, staring at their petals of red and yellow. “I want to go.” You murmured.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“Can we please go?” Your gaze met his and Bucky travelled your face, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Sure, darling.” Bucky said and rose from his seat. You took the flowers from the table and took one last look at the group, hoping that this would be the last picture of them in your mind.

As you made it to the house Bucky walked ahead of you, up the stairs to his room. You found it strange since he never goes to bed with you at the same time. You entered the room, placing the flowers on the table and heading straight to the bathroom to get ready for bed, but Bucky’s hand stopped you.

He turned you around with one swift move, the look in his eyes making the blood shoot straight to your head.

“Get on your knees.”

If the sun don't shine on me today And if the subways flood and bridges break Will you lay yourself down and dig your grave Or will you rail against your dying day

[ next ]

[ taglist closed ]

#dark bucky #dark!bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #biker!bucky #biker bucky #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #dark!mcu #biker AU #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #clair writes

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

Everyone knew the story of the man in the forest mansion. He’d once been the son of a prominent and just lord. The people of the land praised the lord’s name as he was always fair and practiced justice amongst all his subjects. It was a month of mourning when he passed away from sickness, but there were high hopes for his son to carry on his legacy. And at first, all was well.

But something happened that changed his heart.

A woman appeared; beautiful, alluring, and sweet. She captured his heart and they say he adored her, showering her in gifts of gold, jewels, and fine cloth. No one knows what happened for sure, only that the lord’s son went mad. There was a fire and the woman died. Most say that he started it with the intent of killing her.

Soon after, the son turned out all the servants and secluded himself from the rest of the world. Whispers popped up that the woman he killed was a fairy or a nymph and for killing her he was cursed. Some say that he was now a beast, sporting fangs and claws where his human teeth and fingers once were. Others say he was now a creature of the night and stalked the forest when the moon is high for wandering prey.

No had seen the son or the castle where he supposedly lived in years. The excuse that the grandmothers gave was that the forest had grown too thick from the trees and vines for the castle to be found. Since the son had turned out all the servants and land workers after the fire and there was no one to keep the paths clear.

You didn’t believe a word of it. A man with fangs and claws hiding up in a castle to terrorize anyone who came too close was utter nonsense; a fairytale to scare the children and keep them within the town walls. Even if there were such a man, you hardly considered the possibility that he was cursed.

“It's only because you moved here a few months ago,” Mrs. Mooney crooned. As the wife of the town butcher, she was privy to all the gossip that passed by the family shop. She often stood outside, keeping the stall for the smaller scraps or animals they hadn’t managed to sell to the more prestigious customers. “But we older folk remember the little boy who used to run around here while his father conducted business. Spoiled little thing. Always had a pretty pony and the finest clothes. Stuck his nose up at playing with the other children just because they had dirt on their sleeves. Serves him right, what he got.”

“You don’t know what he deserved and what he didn’t,” another graying woman chimed in haughtily. Her dress, though still rough like a peasant’s, was much nicer than the other villagers. Silver curls spilled out from under a white bonnet. Her hands looked coarse from hard labor and her skin kissed for years under the sun. Crinkles stayed permanently in the corners of her eyes, letting you know that she did smile on occasion. You’d never seen her before when you came to the market, but Mrs. Mooney seemed to know her well.

“You would know better than anyone, Feifei,” Mrs. Mooney sneered.

Though now you were intrigued, Mrs. Mooney did not elaborate how the other woman would know anything about this make-believe man.

“That tongue will get you into trouble someday, Johanna.” Adjusting the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, the old woman spared no glance at the meat as she walked away.

Mrs. Mooney clicked her tongue. With a shake of her head, she turned back to you. “So, milady, do plan on any wares today?”

“No, my father already sent Claudette earlier this week,” you said. The smell of the meat was starting to get to you, but you tried your best to keep it off your face. “I simply came down to escape the confinements of home.”

A huff pushed past her lips. “Oh, yes. I’m sure that large stone house must be suffocating.”

Though lashing out would have been easy, you bit your tongue. This butcher’s wife didn’t know your history. She didn’t know that compared to your previous home in the city, this new place was a shack.

It was your mother’s inheritance that kept you, your siblings, and your father afloat. The home, bought long ago by your grandfather who was now passed, was a honeymoon paradise for your parents. After your mother died giving birth to you, the house was locked up to be a refuge only to spiders and rodents since your father couldn’t bear visiting the place alone. He’d poured himself into his work, curating business as he brought investors and merchants together. When a major client lost his ships at sea, one of his managers took off with most of the assets and funds, leaving debts and loans in their place. To pay off the leeches, most of your possessions had to be auctioned off and the home that had sheltered you since childhood was sold to a new family.

Life away from the bustling city wasn’t too awful. You didn’t have to worry about being run over by a carriage since most of the residents here couldn’t afford one. Everyone seemed to know everyone, which was both intriguing to you while also a little bothersome. At first your family, being new, was the center of all the gossip. Rumors of your father or brother gambling the fortune away or you and your sister having scandalized the family and caused you all to hide away ran rampant. Eventually, the mill settled down and you were left in peace. Some of the villagers still gave side eyed glances, but you’d learned to brush them off.

Thinking it was time to head back home, you said goodbye to the butcher’s wife and followed the brown dirt street beyond the wall that surrounded the town until the scenery turned to fields of wildflowers and small farms. You took a right at the fork, already seeing the two-story country home come into view. The tan brick was a bit faded from the sun and thick vines grew up the sides and around the windows. A small garden grew out in front. There was a fairytale essence to the home that made you love it more. In the back, Claudette would be hanging the laundry to dry in the subtle breeze. Father was most likely in his study, shuffling through papers and letters to find a way out of this place. Cosette was probably lying on the old couch in the front parlor, constantly fanning herself as she whined of the woes she was forced to live through. Your brother, Lu, would be sitting on a log, writing in his journal when he was supposed to be chopping wood.

Cosette was right where you had guessed she was. As soon as you walked through the door, she jumped up and hurried to you with her skirt crumbled in her hand.

“Where have you been?” she screeched, her dark hair pulled back into an intricately braided bun. You tried not to be annoyed. She must have had Claudette do her hair when both of them were supposed to be helping with the washing. “Father has news that he’s been dying to share with us, but he refused to divulge what it is until you were here.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister’s impatience. “Surely, you must have known I would have been home eventually.”

She “hmphed” at you before whirling dramatically and stomping off towards your father’s study. You followed her slowly, your stomach swishing with nerves.

Truth be told, you didn’t mind it out here. The country was a great deal quieter than the city, the air cleaner too. The greatest unexpected gift, however, was how often you saw your dear father. As a child, you had to savor every dinner, every private concert in your living room, and the short moments you were able to spend with him in between his travels or meetings. Claudette never carried as she was more invested in the connections she was making with the other well-to-do families and Lu was often tagging along with your father as the eldest and heir apparent. Now the four of you felt more like a family. If you were, by some miracle or fashion, to go back to the city, routine would fall back into its previous structure and you would be alone again.

Lu surprised you by already being in the room when you entered, seated in a corner with a hardened look on his face. It was strangely out of place given his boyish looks often kept his expression soft. Your father looked up from the papers that were neatly piled up on the desk. “Aw, (y/n)! You’re back from town. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, I did,” you aswered cautiously. “The market was full today.” Your eyes flicked towards Cosette, who had taken the only other chair, continuing to fan herself even though the temperature wasn’t anywhere near that drastic. “I heard you wanted to see us all together?”

“Yes! Yes! Um.” Your father looked around, perhaps to see if there was another place for you to sit. As there was none, he went on. “I received a letter from Lu’s old friend, Lin Gao.” Lu perked up at the mention of Gao. None of you had seen him since you came here, thinking that he, like the others, had abandoned you all when the money was lost. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. “He has worked with several connections and can bring us back into good standing with society. He’s even convinced a few merchants and investors to allow me to broker deals again.” Your father cleared his throat. “There is, however, one condition.”

“What is that, Father?” Lu asked.

“He asked for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.”

The quietest gasp escaped your lips. Gao wanted… to marry you?

As the baby sister, you tended to follow your brother and his friends around, begging for attention and often they obliged you, as long as the setting was appropriate for a child. All of his friends had treated you as their own sister, equally protecting and caring. You’d never suspected them to have thoughts that led into the contrary as you’d grown up.

Lu’s eyes landed on you for a split second, studying your face enough. “Did he say (y/n) specifically?”

“Yes, why (y/n)?” Cosette scoffed. “I would be more than willing.”

“He specifically asked for (y/n)’s hand.”

Cosette closed her fan with a snap. “Well, then. Arrange the wedding so we can get out of this dumpy town.”

But wait. Did you not get a say in this?

Your father leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “The help from Gao would be tremendous. But I will not force anything on to any of you. (Y/n),” he looked at you with conflict in his eyes, “if you do not wish to marry Gao, I will send him a letter politely declining the offer. I can find other means on my own.”

He was giving you a way out, if you so wished. But you couldn’t deny the help this would bring for all of you.

“Can I think about it?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, think about it?” Cosette nearly flew out of her seat. “What is there to think about? If we are to get our fortune back, then (y/n) must marry him. I would in a heartbeat if he had asked for me.”

“But he didn’t ask for you,” Lu said.

Your father insisted. “Let your sister think about it. To force this upon her would break my heart. I will not have her live unhappily.”

“And what about me! Why should I live unhappily?”

“Enough!” Your father stood to his feet and he slammed his fist down on the desk. You flinched at the noise the collision created. Rare was it for your father to get upset like this. He was usually very levelheaded. “I am still head of this household and you will accept my decision. Now, go!”

With a stomp of her foot, Cosette stormed out of the room like a spoiled child told that she couldn't have a piece of candy. Eyes trained down on the floor, you quietly excused yourself and went upstairs to your room.

Your favorite place in the house was your room, the smallest besides Claudine’s on the first floor. But the trade for it was the reading crook by the window, overlooking the garden. You liked the isolation you could feel when you sat on the bench, knees pulled up close to your chest as your skirts fell over the side. The window was cold as you laid your forehead against the glass. A breeze was moving through, swaying the leaves in the trees and rattling the vines against the stone walls of the house.

What would living with Gao be like? You had never thought of your brother’s friend in a romantic light. Would there be any romance between the two of you? Or would you be condemned to a loveless marriage like so many other girls? Could you live like that?

You had no answers at the moment. You weren’t sure if you would ever have an answer. But a compromise was coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have to say yes right away. Maybe you could meet with Gao, get to know him more, in a different way that how you knew him before. And, if you decided that he was not the kind of man you wanted to spend your life with, if there was no possibility of love between the two of you, perhaps you could convince him to help your father anyway, for sake of his friendship with Lu.

You pictured Gao’s face in your mind, willing yourself to love it. But all that did was churn your stomach.

Your father had sent the letter asking if a visit to the city would be possible for you. Gao’s reply came back quicker than expected: yes. He made all the arrangements; he hired the carriage, sent money so you could rest in an inn for a night before arriving in town the next day. Barely a week had gone by since you were first told of this offer and now you were traveling by yourself for the first time in your life.

Cloak wrapped tightly over your shoulders, you kissed your father goodbye on the cheek. Tears were swelling behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see them.

“Be on your best behavior,” he teased. You were the last out of the three to get into trouble. “Write to me as soon as you arrive. Alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

Lu patted your shoulder. When you were a child, he showed you affection freely, but now that you were grown, he’d become a bit awkward when other people were watching. Cosette didn’t say a word. She simply fanned herself at a quick rate as smirk rested on her lips. All she carried about was getting back to high society, to the parties and the searching for a husband who possessed a fortune large enough to keep her satisfied.

Your father glanced up at the sky. “Better go now, my dear. The clouds are growing darker. I want you at that inn before the storm comes through.”

“The only way to do that is to go through the forest,” the driver commented from atop the carriage.

Your father seemed unnerved by that observation but gave no protest. “I will wait to hear from you.”

You gave one last kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, father. Take care of him, Lu. Will you?”

“Naturally,” Lu said with a chuckle.

You merely nodded to Cosette before stepping into the carriage. The cabby lurched forward and you allowed the small smile that had been straining on your lips to fall away. Anxiety settled in your stomach. You wanted to have a positive outlook on this whole thing. It was better to possibly marry a friend of the family rather than a complete stranger twenty years your senior.

Unclasping the hook that held your cloak together, you let the soft fabric fall behind you on the seat. The literal weight off your shoulders helped you to breathe easier. You closed your eyes and leaned back. There was still a long journey until you would arrive back in a city that you hadn’t seen in months, although it felt more like years. That was another life to you, a past self. One you had been okay with letting go. And now you were uneasily walking back into its arms.

The ground shook, rattling the walls of the carriage. You pushed the curtain out of the way and peaked out the window. Flashes of lightning so bright that not even the thick trees of the forest could keep them back splintered across the sky. The storm had come quicker than anticipated. Raindrops splattered against the dirt floor, starting out slow then growing in pace. Soon it was impossible to see more than five steps in front of you.

The wind grew untamable. The carriage rocked from side to side, the thin wheels ricketing against the strain. A bolt of lightning screamed too close for comfort. The horse reared back in fright as the carriage passed by a ravine. It was all too much. The carriage toppled over, falling down the side of the ravine. You were tossed around the cabby like a rock between a group of children. When the falling finally stopped, you let out a cry of relief. A second cry left your lips, this time for the driver. But no reply came.

The carriage had landed on its side, but thankfully, it had another door to escape through. You clasped the cloak around your shoulders once more and pulled up the hood before pushing the door open and climbing out.

You were soaked as soon as you stepped out of the carriage. The driver was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or if he had ran away. The horse, the poor thing, didn’t move or whine. Water was slowly rising in the creek from the rushing rain. You had to get out of here. With what little strength you had, you managed to climb back up the side of the hill. A chill froze your fingers and chattered your teeth. You walked in the opposite way that you thought the carriage was heading. Getting back to your home was your only hope. You had never been in these woods and the sky was too dark to tell directions from the sun. The rain was pouring down harder. Each step you took grew weaker. An unseen tree root stuck out of the ground, catching your foot. Shock ran up your arms as you tried to catch yourself when you fell. You couldn’t go anymore. You were too cold, too tired. So you lied there in the mud, wishing for a miracle. The rain soon came to a stop, but you were still too exhausted to push yourself up. Your eyes grew tired. Finally, the lids closed. The sound of horse hooves against the mud grew near, but you couldn't be sure if it was real or simply your imagination clinging to hope.

“We can’t just leave her here, Xao.”

“But what would the master think if we showed up with her?”

“So, you would leave her to die?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then we take her with us! The castle is big enough that he would never even have to know.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Someone lifted you up from the ground, but before you could discover who it was, you lost consciousness completely.

You weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the splitting headache that pounded at your skull. Or it could have been the shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“Get her OUT of here!”

“My lord, please, see reason. The poor child was dying in that storm.”

“I don’t care. She’s alive now, so get her out!”

“But she’s still sick. The poor thing has a fever. She’s been sweating all night.”

“I do not want her here. No one is to come here, you know that!”

“Let me take care of her. Once she’s on her feet again, I’ll take her back into town.”

“Fine!”

Heavy foot stomps echoed off the floor. One side of the double doors opened and inside stepped the old woman from the market.

You?

“You’re awake,” she sighed. “I can only imagine what had woken you up.” In her hands was a silver tray of different morsels and a tea kettle slowly letting out a flow of steam. Seeing you struggle to sit up, she hurried to set the tray down on the nightstand and help you. “Don’t overexert yourself, miss. You’re not fully recovered from that awful storm yet. You’ve been asleep for two days now.”

Two days! Your father must have been losing his mind when he never received word that you had arrived in town. A coughing fit of your own started up. The old woman gave you a glass of water to calm your throat before adjusting the pillows behind your head. You took in the bedroom that you were housed in. The light gray drapes that hung from the bedposts were old and a little faded but still made from an expensive velvet fabric. The blanket that covered you was soft and warm and smelled of lavender. Cosette would squeal at the size of this place. It was even bigger than her room at the old house in the city.

“Where am I?”

The old woman’s hands stopped before she could pull out the warming pan from the foot of the bed. “You're at the lord’s estate.”

You frowned. “What lord?” As far as you were aware, the closet lord was at least several days ride from town. And you doubted he would have allowed a room to go untouched like this one obviously was.

Sadness fell upon the old woman’s face. “He’s a good man. A good man with a tragic past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the old woman folded her hands and laid them in her lap. “Do you remember the story Mrs. Mooney was telling you at the market?” You nodded. “This is his home.”

“He… exists?”

“Yes. Though the awful rumors….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes. But his lordship isn’t accustomed to visitors. I apologize for what you might have heard.”

Perhaps it was the fever, but your curiosity was now out of your control. “Why doesn’t he want anyone here?”

The old woman stood up. “Never you mind. We’ll get you back on your feet and then Mr. Chan will take you back into town.” She poured a fresh cup of tea, handing it to you carefully.

“Do I have to go back to town?”

“We don’t really have a choice, dear. You heard the master.” She eyed you as you sipped on the warm, caramel colored tea. “What is it? Why don’t you want to go back to town?”

You finished off the tea before explaining. “My family wants me to get married, to help the financial situation. At first, I thought I was willing to at least try, to see that man again and find out if I could love him. But… now I’m grateful for the storm.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, why not say so?”

“Because if my father never restores his reputation and our family falls further into ruin, it will be all my fault.”

The old woman shook her head. “You poor thing. That’s too much weight to bear.” She let out a long sigh. “Try to eat and then get more rest. Your eyes look heavy. We’ll see if we can’t delay your being cured by a few more days.” She headed for the door. After opening on side, she halfway turned back around. “I’m Mrs. Chan, by the way. If you need anything, pull on the cord by the bed. I’ll hear the bell and come to you. Now, rest.”

As soon as the door closed and you were alone again, you felt the weight of your lids growing. Reaching over to the tray, you tore off a piece of the bun and chewed on it slowly. Eventually, you nodded off into a dreamless sleep.

Over the next several days, you passed between peaceful sleeps and uncomfortable awareness. Your fever broke on day two, but you still felt weak. Mrs. Chan checked up on you often, keeping you well fed and making sure there was a fresh pitcher of water or tea for you to drink. When you stopped sleeping as much, she brought you a book to occupy your time. But you read through the comedic romance quickly. A tingling was coursing up and down your legs. They needed to move, to be used. You’d been lying in bed for so long you weren’t sure if they even worked properly anymore.

Earlier, Mrs. Chan had stopped by to say she was going into town to pick a few things up at the market. Mr. Chan was to be out on the grounds so if you needed anything it would have to wait for her return.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing. On one hand, you could find nothing of interest in this ancient castle. On the other hand, you could find yourself in the absolute wrong place and have yourself thrown out into the cold before Mrs. Chan could come back and rescue you.

Silly. All of it was. A little walk wouldn’t do any harm. You would make sure to stay near your room and if you heard footsteps, you would run back here in an instant.

With your feet bare and the nightgown Mrs. Chan had given you made of a thinner material, you were a bit cold as you left the comfort of the blankets. But you pushed forth with your curiosity. This grand room was all you had seen of your haven. You wanted to know more about the home of the lord whose memory haunted the village. You stuck your head out first, looking down the hall from either side. It was empty save for the polished suits of armor that lined the sides, sitting between old portraits previous tenants. As quietly as you could, you closed the bedroom door behind you and softly stepped further into the hall. Through the long space you made your way, glancing at every painting as you passed. Some had chipped paint while others’ frames had dulled over the years, but each one was still magnificent, the subject stunningly beautiful in their own unique ways. You weren’t sure if it was the magic of the artist or if the family was truly blessed in that manner.

Every so often you would peer into a room when the door was unlocked. Most of them were bedrooms or small studies. By the collection of dust gathered on most of the furniture, they hadn’t been used in quiet a while. Soon, the hall took a turn, spilling out into the Grand Hall where the other hallways met. You started to go right when a set of double doors down a shorter hallway in the other direction caught your eye. They were bigger than any of the other doors you had seen so far. You hurried to that one instead, intrigued by what might be behind it. Barely able to get it open with your weak arms, you squeezed through the space and stumbled inside. Then you gasped.

When Mrs. Chan had described the library to you, she had said that the family had a fair collection of books. You might have to clarify with her what a “fair amount” really meant.

The library was housed in the back most tower, the shelves built into the walls and going higher than your eyes could see. Ladders made of wood and metal were attached to the spaces between the shelves. They moved freely from side to side to put any book within reach. As a child, you thought your father had the biggest collection of books by any one person in the world. How silly you were. This place could hold twenty of your father’s old library. You whirled around and around, taking in every detail. It was like a fairy tale.

You stepped closer to the wall and ran your hand over the leather bindings. It had been so long since you’d been able to take in the smell of old books. You had only been able to save two of your favorite novels from the auction. They were currently hidden under your bed. If Cosette ever got a whiff of them, she’d sell them to pay for a new dress. As you made your way around the library, you spotted another door, one that nearly blended in with the shelves. Feeling brave from your latest discovery, you tried the handle. It turned with ease. You pulled the door towards you. Sunlight spilled into the library. The secondary room was mostly empty – save for one object. A piano.

Bang!

The door shut in your face, startling you backwards. You stumbled into something hard. Turning to see what it was, you gasped in fright

A tall, dark hair man with the left half of his face covered in a white mask glared at you.

“What are you doing in here!” he shouted, face glowing red with fury.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry,” you stutter as you scurried back. The door to the room stopped you from going any further. You were trapped with no way to escape. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You were supposed to say in your room,” he continued to bellow, not concerned at all with your fear. “Stay away from this room! Go!”

That last command was enough to send you running, passing the man and leaving the library. You hurried to the Great Hall, to get back to your room as quickly as possible. Looking back over your shoulder, you checked to see if he was coming after you. The hallway was empty behind you. Once safely back in your room, you scurried under your covers as if they would protect you from the masked man.

Mrs. Chan gave no indication that she was aware of your little adventure. If the masked man – the lord of this castle, you presumed – had told her, surely you would have been thrown out by now. She did, however, seem upset about something.

“Is everything alright?” you asked before she could leave the room with your empty food tray.

“Oh, it’s nothing I want to trouble you with, dear,” Mrs. Chan said.

You smiled at her. “I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

A second went by and then Mrs. Chan sighed. “It’s just the master. He wasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been wondering through the west wing lately and I’m worried about him.”

The west wing? That was where you were headed before the library stole your attention. “What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing of importance,” Mrs. Chan snapped. It was a harsher tone that you were used to. You lowered your gaze remorsefully. “Oh, dear. I’ve upset you. Don’t worry about and try to get more rest. You need color back in your cheeks.” She left the room, blowing out the lamp before shutting the door and leaving you in darkness.

You woke a few hours later to a loud bang. At first you thought of ignoring it. Then the thought of something happening to Mrs. Chan came into your mind.

Throwing a blanket around your shoulders, you carefully relit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” you called out softly. Another bang answered you. It was faint, not coming from this hallway. You followed it, occasionally calling out again. No human ever replied.

You passed through the Great Hall and into the west wing. You should learned, really, from your earlier excursion. But the thought of someone being trouble refused to let you turn back. Now that you were closer to the source, a soft moaning could be heard among the silence. You pressed your ear from door to door, trying to see if it was coming from behind one of them. It was the door on the very end that held back the sound. With enough moonlight coming from the wide window at the end of the hall to see by, you put the oil lamp down on the floor out of the way and went inside.

Even in the darkness, you could see the smoke and soot stained walls. The remnants of a bed stood in the middle of the wood. Hanging behind it was a portrait of a beautiful woman with golden hair and rich brown eyes that stuck out even with half of the painting burned and curled.

“What are you doing in here!”

You gasped as the lord of the castle stepped out of the shadows. His mask was gone, but he kept the left side of his face covered with his hand. In his other hand was a small torch. With its light you could see the scars on the back of his hand, the tight and lifted skin usually caused by fire. You said nothing, too stunned to find words.

Dropping his left hand, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. The scars on his face were now partially visible, but still mostly hidden in shadow and by the locks of hair that had fallen. From what you could see, they matched the scars visible on his hand. “I asked you why you are here!”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice came out in squeaks, fear running you cold despite the proximity of the flame. “I heard noises. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

He sneered at your answer. “If you’re well enough to walk around then GET. OUT!” He practically threw you out of the room.

You landed on your knees but didn’t stay there for long. You scrambled up to your feet and took off down the hall, leaving the oil lamp behind. The nightgown caught on your foot in your haste as you passed the staircase. You went tumbling down the marble stairs, a scream piercing your throat. You couldn’t stop no matter how you tried. When the bottom of the staircase finally came, you were out cold.

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Leave No One Behind

Ch 12: Win Some, Lose Some Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Part 1

Summary: After 2 years of being at the resort Ari and the other agents are gearing up for yet another mission, but there’s a little bit of trouble in paradise for him and Hannah…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+ only)

Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode: More Than A Woman- Bee Gees https://youtu.be/DtxBUp6hBaI

A/N: So there’s a little jump in time in this chapter as we fast forward towards the big dramatic end to their time at the RSDR…. Translation: Vete a la mierda = Fuck off.

Series Master List // Main Masterlist

Here in your arms I found my paradise, my only chance for happiness. And if I lose you now I think I would die. Oh say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine. We can take forever, just a minute at a time

March 1982

Ari felt it the moment he woke up that morning. Even before stirring or cracking an eye open he knew the pressure on his left cheek was Simon. After almost two years the pooch still insisted on sleeping on the bed with them, crawling his way up between him and Hannah the moment they fell asleep and ending up on Ari's face sometime during the night. So by now, after many a mistake so to speak, Ari knew all too well what he was feeling wasn't Hannah looking for early morning cuddles but Simon's fat butt.

Ari groaned and shoved Simon away causing the dog to give a little growl and grunt of his own being as he was on the most comfortable pillow ever. Some things never change Ari thought as he stirred lightly and rubbed his eyes, unable to avoid a lazy smile when he realised what day it was.

It was the morning of his and Hannah's second anniversary and though the news about the clampdown and heavy military presence on the streets had screwed his plans to take his Firefly into Port Sudan again, like he had done the previous year, he was still going to make sure they celebrated.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit pissed about his plans going awry but at the same time he had to admit the last two years had been the best years of his life and that called for any kind of celebration they could get, be that in Port Sudan or in a fucking dump. Or a dump turned into a flourishing hotel for that matter. It was crazy how they had gotten used to life at the resort two years after that afternoon when he had made the call to turn their cover hiding hole into a real hotel. Their alter egos didn't feel false anymore, and he was as much Guy now as Ari. Mind you, Hannah sometimes called him Guy or Mr. Thomas, often with a fake accent to imitate Colonel Madibo to tease him.

He gave a contented sigh at the thought of his and his Firefly’s relationship which could only be described in one word, amazing. It was as normal as it could be given the circumstances and they had both built something solid out of their feelings for each other once they had admitted to them, that was undeniably true regardless of the true nature of their stay in that slice of paradise along the Red Sea. They argued, that was equally true, and they had disagreements mostly about silly little things which was to be expected in a long-term relationship, but nothing major that they couldn’t figure out at the end of the day. Hannah had moved into his hut a little over two months after her birthday when Ari had jokingly asked her to move in with him. She had laughed but done it anyway as it was the closest they could get to living effectively together, and now here they were, two years of being together nearly 24/7, except for the mandatory week of home leave. It didn’t escape either of their notice that it was more than the time she had been married to Andy and now that he thought about it, it was probably more time than Ari had spent with Sarah in the entire 7 years they were married for that matter.

Speaking of his family life, Ari was still exchanging regular letters with Maya and on his visits to Tel Aviv he had grown even closer to his daughter than he could ever have hoped to. He was on fairly good terms with Sarah too, although that had gone through a bit of a rocky patch. The first visit home he’d had following the time Sarah had accosted Hannah, they’d had quite a heated argument when he had told his estranged wife that she was out of order to do what she had done. In a blaze of bitter anger, Sarah had accused him of all sorts, including the usual about him loving his job and his new woman more than his daughter, which had culminated in Ari snapping. He’d loudly informed his ex-wife that this was to be his last field mission, and that he was leaving it behind for Maya, not Hannah or anyone else for that matter. And the little petulant brat inside him had enjoyed the complete shock on Sarah's face as well as the mumbled apology she had given him once his words had sunk in.

All in all, everything seemed to be finally falling into place and the fact that Mama Navon had invited him for lunch during that same week’s leave, having obviously been informed by Ethan that he would be around that week, was an added bonus. He had always had a smooth relationship with Maria Navon but they both knew she was not merely his best friend's mother anymore. The fact that she had invited him to come over without Sammy or Hannah being there too spoke for itself. They’d had a heartfelt conversation over the best Sunday roast he had eaten in months, probably even years, where he had come clean about his feelings for Hannah and his intentions towards her. It had been easier than he had anticipated, he had never been a man who liked or found it easy to speak about his feelings, but for whatever reason, when it came to talk about Hannah and what he felt for her, it just flowed out smoothly and Mama Navon had read that in the soft smile and the sparkle in his honest blue eyes when he explained how they had got back together and he assured her he had no intentions of breaking her heart a second time.

No, it wasn’t a “normal” life by any stretch, but it was good. He was doing something to help people and he was doing it with the person he had always loved. They had successful mission after successful mission over the past two years and the team had assembled as perfectly as Ari could have ever envisioned when he had written those five names down before handing the piece of paper to a reluctant Ethan. Hundreds of refugees had been smuggled to Israel and it was set to be another couple of hundred more in a couple of days. That said, given the way things were going with the religious and political landscape in Sudan, he wasn’t sure how much longer they had. A few months, maybe 6 at a push. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought, as they still had so many people to help, but in the same breath Ari knew he had to be realistic. They couldn’t do this forever, they’d always known that. All they could do was their best, and the best was to simply go as long as they could, saving as many refugees as they could in the time they had.

And when they finally did have to quit, and Ari said goodbye to a life in the field, the fact he was doing that with his Firefly by his side made a future behind a desk in Tel Aviv seem that little less frightening.

Ari was dragged back from his wandering reflections by Simon who had jumped off the bed and was now scratching at the door. He looked at the dog and groaned as he swung his legs out of bed. "All right, I get it, just don't tear the door down." he whispered to the anxious animal before he walked to the door and opened it to let the mutt out for his usual morning pee and wander round the beach, mumbling as Simon trotted past. "Tell you what pal, when we do leave I'll be waving goodbye as you fade into the distance..."

"I heard that Ari, you little shit." Hannah's sleepy voice suddenly rang through the hut's space.

"He’s the little shit Firefly." he stated somewhat childishly, turning to look at his girl as he shut the door.

"Stop being mean to him." she said as she rolled on her back, yawning, her eyes not even open yet.

"He insists on sleeping with his butt on my face. That's what I call mean." Ari protested as he slid back into bed, reaching for his girl, holding her flush against him.

Guided by Ari, Hannah rolled onto her side again, snuggling against his chest, eyes still closed as she smirked.

"That's because your face is so pretty mi Lobo."

"Yeah? Well, in that case why don’t you sleep on it?" he purred, his voice an octave lower than usual.

Hannah cracked an eye open at that and looked up at him "Something tells me if I was on your face I wouldn't be sleeping."

Ari chuckled, dropping his face closer to hers, brushing their noses together as he drawled. "You’re right Firefly. You’d be seeing stars."

"You have a very high opinion of yourself Mr Thomas." she said, smiling against his beard so that Ari could feel the vibrations of her voice as she tilted her pelvis up to meet his.

"Wanna bet?" he challenged her, his voice almost a groan.

"What’s the cost if I lose?" she asked as she brought her right hand to his face to stroke his cheek.

Ari paused for a moment. So you want to play Firefly , and then smirked as it came to him- the perfect forfeit. "You have to lead the aerobics classes, not Rachel." he stated as he wriggled his eyebrows playfully at her, knowing she would loathe the idea of having to wear that leotard Ari so loved seeing on her.

Yeah, having a leotard kink when you spent half of the day surrounded by women in swim gear was kinda odd when he thought about it, but anyway…

Hannah glared at him before blurting out. "Oh, fuck off Ari! No deal."

"So you don't want my face between your legs?" he asked innocently.

"Fuck you. I hate you." Hannah groaned.

"No you don't..." he purred as he kissed her neck "...you love me..."

And that was it. He knew it the moment Hannah closed her eyes as he gently guided her onto her back and kissed his way down her body.

"Times like this I wonder why..." she sighed out, her hand fisting in his hair which made Ari pause at her belly before peeking up at her.

"Yeah, protest all you want but you love it, you just hate losing. And you’re gonna lose Firefly."

*******

An hour later, after having breakfast with the team, Hannah was at the front of the group of guests, clad in the infamous leotard leading the class as Jake leaned on counter watching. It wasn't too long until Ari walked over and spotted him. "You, out. Now." he barked, glaring at him.

"What? Why?" Jake protested.

"Because you’re a pervert. Out." Ari ordered him as he gestured to the way out with his right thumb.

"That's so not fair." Jake tried to fight back as he straightened himself. "You never kick me out when Rachel is leading the class."

"That’s because you're never here when Rachel leads the class. Out!" he hissed, trying not to make a scene in front of the tourists. “I won’t tell you again.”

At that point Sammy walked in and came to the desk, frowning. "Where’s Rach? Why is Hannah running the aerobics?"

Ari shrugged and glared at Jake when he snorted on his way out. At that point Rachel came out of the office holding some papers.

"I’m here and apparently Rosa lost a bet." she explained to Sammy who was looking at her puzzled. It took him a second before he groaned.

"I don't wanna know do I?" he asked as he squinted his eyes at Ari.

"Nope." Ari smirked as he stole a glance at Hannah who was now stretching and bending forward.

"Come on, you two are disgusting." Sammy groaned.

"Ok, that’s it. Everyone out. You too Ari. You never come to my classes, you’re not staying for this one either." Rachel cut them off.

"I’d come to your classes…if you’d let me." Sammy pouted.

"Oh, come on. You two are disgusting." Ari repeated Sammy's words, mimicking his voice.

"Ha! You coming Sammy is exactly why she won’t let you." Jake quipped.

"Weren't you gone?" Sammy spluttered, spinning round to face him "Fuck you both."

Ari couldn't help but laugh at his friend's signature reaction. It had been well over 18 months since Sammy and Rachel had come out as being together but Ari knew he still hated everyone teasing him about it, but he couldn't help it. It was fun and, in a way, it was payback for all the time Sammy had spent holding a grudge against him and Hannah. That said, Rachel was the best influence they all could have wished for. Not only was Sammy far ess grumpy and tense all the time but he was also more willing to enjoy any treat life at the resort had to offer without thinking too much about it.

"Ok, enough, I said, out...go on." Rachel insisted, shoving Ari on the shoulder.

"Hey, remind me…who's the boss round here?" Ari raised an eyebrow at her.

"It’s me when y’all start acting like pre-schoolers or horny teenagers. And honestly that happens far too often for my liking." Rachel simply stated as she held a stapler and menacingly pointed at each one of them with it.

And with that the 3 of them made to leave, just as Max appeared from the kitchen with a snack, Simon following him hoping for food. He looked at the three of them in turn, and then at Rachel, who��pointed sending him out too so with a shrug he followed suit. The 3 men passed the front row of the group and Hannah glanced in their direction and Ari grinned at her as he left. Her eyes were positively shooting daggers at him and if looks could kill he’d be dead on the spot. But he would be a corpse with a semi boner having seen her the way she was. So just as he exited the main area, he peeled off his t-shirt and started running directly into the sea without much of a word to the rest who were now staring puzzled.

"I’d swear I can see steam coming from him." Max cuckled and Jake started singing quietly.

"Gimme some hot stuff baby this evening..." as he moved his hips suggestively causing Max to start howling so loud that the sound drowned Sammy's groans.

"Watch out for the fish, man!" Max howled at Ari just before he flipped them off over his shoulders, which didn't stop Max from teasing him again "They’ll think you’re happy to see them."

"That’s gross." Sammy glared at them, who were both bent with laughter.

"What's more gross…” asked Max. "Us or the fact he's boning your sister?"

"You had to say it." Sammy groaned again. "I’m done with you two."

"I wouldn’t describe boning Red as gross." Jake, who was now wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, quipped.

"Fucking fuck you." Sammy snapped at him.

“Ok, ok keep your pants on!” Max chuckled.

"Yeah, come on man, it’s us that aren’t getting any." Jake whined in an attempt to appease Sammy.

"Try fucking each other then." Sammy bit back, still pissed. Max looked at Jake, giving a shudder.

"I’d rather fuck the dog."

At that Jake slapped him on the back of the head "Asshole."

Sammy snorted and turned to leave, crossing paths with Simon who had spotted daddy Ari in the water and was now trotting towards the sea. "I'd stay away from Max, pooch." Sammy said seriously. Simon just looked at him, before barking and continuing on his way.

As he approached Max, he grinned “No food pal, sorry." but the dog completely ignored him and started running towards Ari who had now come out of the water and approaching them.

"That was fast.” Jake jabbed at him.

"I just needed to cool off.” Ari shrugged

"Yeah, well, I hope you last longer with Red." Jake smirked at him.

“Don’t hear her complaining." Max told Jake with a grin. “Quite the opposite actually.”

"Ok seriously, shut the fuck up." Ari growled at them as they began to snigger.With a glare he started walking towards his hut, but Ari knew them too well, especially how things were when the two of them teamed up, and he fully understood they wouldn't be willing to let him off the hook that easily so he prepared for one last quip which came from Jake.

"Still wanna hear about that bet she lost." he shouted at Ari's retreating back.

"You wish." Ari yelled back.

"I knew it. You’re my hero, man." Max howled.

Ari didn't look back at Max, he just smirked to himself. Of course Max would get it, he always did. "Yup." he shouted instead, popping the p, as he passed a group of female tourists on the way.

"Ladies." he greeted them with his signature cocky but friendly smile, which made them giggle and start whispering to each other as they passed him by.

"Seriously, how does he do it?" Jake gasped as they watched the group of women all pause to watch Ari as he walked up the sand.

"Animal magnetism." Max shrugged. "And I don't mean the fact he has Simon running at his heels."

*****

After a refreshing shower, more refreshing than he actually needed as he had changed his usual morning run for other activities that morning, Ari changed into a pair of fresh shorts and a light blue shirt. He was just about to leave hut as Hannah arrived back wearing that damned leotard, causing him to flash his signature wicked smirk at her.

"Don't even think about it. I'm pissed at you, Levinson." she warned him as she passed him by, trying her best not to surrender to that damned smirk of his.

"Oh, I'm thinking IT firefly." Ari laughed as he smacked her butt, causing her to yelp in surprise, and leaving her to shower and change clothes. He went to the main building to sort the arrangements for the call to Ethan later in the day about the last details on the mission and then just spent some time being Guy Thomas. The batch of tourist currently at the resort were leaving the day after next so he chatted with them for a while, ensuring they had enjoyed their stay and would recommend the resort to their family and friends back home. Satisfied real guests were as important as the ones whose number hung from hooks on the board at the reception desk as without them, their cover would be blown.

He was still chatting to the guests when Hannah came into the main dining area, her eyes roaming the room for him and she rolled her eyes when she spotted him being charming Guy, smiling softly as the ladies fawned all around him reminding her of herself when she was a teenager with a crush on her older brother's best friend.

Cliché much.

But those memories weren't the only ones that flashed across her mind. She had been feeling quite homesick lately but as she stood there watching Ari, she began to feel especially down. So, she took a dep breath and decided that baking her Mama’s banana and date loaf, which had been at the back of her mind ever since she had spotted some days before that Chef Aziz had a basket of fresh dates, was just the ticket to cheer herself up.

Of course, Ari had also spotted Hannah the moment she had entered the room, how could he not? But he hadn't noticed her leave and, after giving the ladies some recommendations as to what to buy in the souk at Port Sudan the following day, he turned around looking for her but she was nowhere to be seen. He wandered off to go find her bumping into Rachel in the reception area who told him she had seen Hannah last heading to the kitchen, which was exactly where Ari found her.

"You ok?" he asked softly from the kitchen's threshold.

Hannah raised her head and turned to look at him for an instant before her eyes were on the dough she was working on again. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You just disappeared." he drawled, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the doorframe.

Hannah shrugged. "I have more important things to say than watch you flirt, Mr Thomas."

"I wasn’t flirting..." Ari protested immediately and she once more looked at him. "Ok, maybe I was. A little."

"Satisfied guests, uh?" she teased.

"Well, need to keep the tourists happy, Han..." he conceded playfully.

"So I assume they’re happy enough and that’s why you’re here instead of with them now?"

She was smiling though he couldn't see it. All he could see was the way her ass cheeks were contracting every time she exerted force on the dough.

"That and the fact I wondered where you'd gotten to." he managed to say, after swallowing, his eyes moving back up her body.

"You missed me Mr Thomas? Who’d have thought?" she teased once more.

Ari rolled his eyes and approached her from behind. "Stop being a brat Firefly."

"I’m not being a brat, Ari and stop rolling your eyes at me." she scoffed, her tone hardened this time. "I can't see you but I know you just did."

Ari stopped behind her and cocked his head to one side and frowned. Despite her casual tone she wasn’t being as playful as normal "Han...what's wrong? You're not really pissed at me for talking to those girls, are you? Because I'm not interested..."

She sighed. "I know, Ari. It’s just... not today."

Now he was really puzzled. "Hey, come on Firefly, talk to me...what is it?" He asked, as his hands landed cautiously on her hips.

"Nothing really, it’s just I’m a bit homesick today." She said, not wanting to react to Ari's touch.

Ari sighed noticing the stiffness of her body and the sadness in her voice "Oh, baby come here." he said, gripping her hips and turning her around to hug her. And as he wrapped his arms around her back, his chin rubbing against the top of her head, he noticed the ingredients on the side for the first time and he let out a groan "You making... no... you're not?"

Hannah grinned and looked up at him. "I am."

"That's my favourite thing your mama makes" he groaned.

"I know baby." she gazed at his eyes, in the hope that he realised why he was baking that particular treat.

"So...are you making it because you're homesick or because it's our 2 year anniversary?" he asked, winking an eye at her.

She beamed at him, her grin now reaching her eyes. "You remembered?"

"Of course I did!" he said, holding her tighter, before pausing. "Wait...did you think I'd forgotten?"

Hannah felt her cheeks went red with embarrassment . "Yeah, I did."

"Han..." Ari started as he shook his head, chuckling. "2 years ago we got our second chance. Like I'd ever forget that."

She bit her lip. "I’m sorry it’s just you never mentioned us going to Port Sudan like last year and I assumed..."

"Baby, we can't. I wanted to take you, I really did but, with the talk of stuff going on in the cities, the whole clamp down and Sharia law that’s coming in, well, we're not married so..." he shook his head again sadly. "It's not possible or even worth the risk. You understand that?"

“No, I know. You’re right." he sighed. "God, I feel stupid now."

He chuckled as he swayed her in his arms. "That doesn't mean I haven't got anything planned."

She grinned at him, playing with the upper buttons of his shirt. "Do you have something planned?"

"Well I could tell you...but then I'd have to kill you." he drawled.

"Rude Levinson." she scoffed, pushing his chest as she turned around back to her baking station. "For that you’re not getting a single ounce of this loaf I’m making."

Ari laughed heartily, wrapping his arms round her from behind again and kissing her neck. "Don't be like that firefly."

"Like what? You don’t wanna tell me what you’re planning but I’m more than happy to tell you what I am planning. Which is not letting you eat any of this fucking delicious banana and date loaf."

He chuckled again. "You really want me to spoil the surprise honey?” Hannah smiled and this time he could see her doing it from the corner of his eye. "No. I’m just teasing you."

"What else is new?" he said as he pushed his groin against her from behind, his lips soft on her neck.

"Stop teasing me Lobo or you won’t get any and now I’m not talking about the loaf." she threatened, raising the rolling pin at him.

"Ok, ok." he chuckled and he kissed her cheek again. "You win." And at that she turned to look at him.

"What else is new?" she asked as she winked at him.

"Shall I remind you of the leotard you were sporting just this morning?" he raised an eyebrow at her and Hannah gasped, narrowing her eyes.

"Vete a la mierda." she grumbled and Ari snorted.

"Ok, I don’t know what that means but I’m assuming it’s not I love you Ari, you’re the love of my life."

"You assume correctly, Lobo."

"All right" he said, raising his hands up. "I surrender. I’m gonna go..." and he started walking backwards "...talk with some..." now a side smile on his face "...lady tourists. Keep them satisfied you know."

Hannah smirked. "You do that. Maybe I'll go talk to that group of boys that Jake took out diving before. They seemed nice."

Instead of falling for her trap Ari merely shrugged. "Talk to them as much as you want as long as you remember you’re mine." And with that he cocked an eyebrow, giving her a stern look and turned to leave, smug smirk on his face, his hand running through his hair.

Bastard, Hannah thought as she resumed her work.

**** Later that day, after having called HQ to fill Ethan in on the last details of the upcoming mission and a bit of an argument about the change in rendez-vous point at such short notice, Ari was sat outside in the sun with Rachel and Sammy. He was trying to relax, he was always on edge the days before a mission and having to call Ethan was always a task he wasn't overly fond of. Not because of the man, Ari had learnt how to deal with him over the years the same way Ethan had learnt how to put up with Ari's attitude which caused him the biggest migraines a boss could ever endure. The thing that stressed Ari the most about those calls was the fact that he had to sneak from the tourists and staff, away from prying ears and hope communication was cooperating. And that day in particular the resort was overflowing with people everywhere he went so the office was out of the question and the huts didn't seen secluded enough to him, so he had had no option but to drive a few miles into the desert and set the radio in the back of the jeep connecting it to the car's aerial.

Thankfully it had worked and an hour or so later he was back and had settled in the same spot he was in now, drinking a beer and trying to ease his mind as he had another secret mission to perform in a few hours, one that got him equally anxious but in a different way. He looked at Sammy and Rachel and saw Sammy's arm resting around her shoulders, gently rubbing her arm. It was good to see them like that for once. Unlike him and Hannah, Rachel and Sammy didn't feel very comfortable with PDA and they kept it to a minimum which had meant it was only after months of being together that Max and Jake had found out there was another couple within the resort management team.

Ari was so lost in his thoughts that he inadvertently gave out a big sigh earning an amused look from Rachel.

"I take it you’re still planning on not joining us for dinner tonight?" she asked.

Sammy frowned. "What? Where you going?"

"I’m taking Hannah for a picnic. It’s a surprise so don’t tell her Sammy." Ari warned his friend, pointing at him with his beer bottle.

Sammy rolled his eyes. "Soppy bastard."

"Leave him alone, he wants to celebrate properly." Rachel defended Ari.

"You’re celebrating something?" Sammy asked again, puzzled. It wasn't anyone's birthday, not that he recalled.

"You could say that." Ari grinned at him.

Sammy frowned, not following his friend, and Rachel chuckled. "It's two years today since he and Hannah got back together."

At that Sammy opened his eyes wide. "Already?"

Ari nodded. "Time flies, huh?"

"Yeah..." Sammy agreed, nodding absentmindedly. "Feels like only yesterday I punched you in your perfect teeth."

"You’re still calling that a punch?" Ari snorted.

"Don’t make me do it again you smug bastard."

"Wouldn’t dream of it pal." Ari conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Sammy smiled at him. "I guess congratulations are in order then."

Ari smirked wickedly, making Rachel raise an eyebrow at him, before speaking. "Save it for the proposal..."

And there it was, Rachel thought. He had got Sammy again, he always did, who was now choking on his drink as Ari bursted out laughing.

"You’re a shit Levinson." Sammy growled, wiping the spilled drink off his chin.

"Funnily enough that's exactly what your sister says too." Ari smirked again, raising his beer in a mock toast before gulping it down and standing up, heading back to his hut.

Hannah was in the shower after having been on a dive later that afternoon with Jake and Max, so Ari quickly changed and when she emerged she smiled at him, taking in his navy shorts and casually smart green button down.

“Hey.” She took the kiss he offered and he pulled back, smiling.

“So, tonight we’re having a night ‘out’ at the resort” he told her and she frowned, her expression puzzled. But he didn’t go into any more detail. “Just be ready in half an hour.”

With that he disappeared off to set up his surprise. With a little help from Aziz, who’d packed the food for him, and Rachel who’d managed to get him everything else he wanted, he quickly laid everything out and headed back to find Hannah was putting the last touches to her hair, pulling it back into a loose braid. She was dressed in a pale blue sun-dress which pulled in at the waist, falling to her knees, thin spaghetti straps resting on her sun-kissed skin.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled as she stood up.

“Thanks.” She said, that adorable flush evident in her cheek and he held out his hand.

“Come on Firefly.”

He led her to their cave but as they approached he tugged her in front of him, his hands gently moving to cover her eyes.

“Ari!” she protested as he chuckled, walking them forward

“Just humour me okay?” he whispered, his lips brushing her cheek. Once she was positioned in the mouth of the cave he moved his hands and Hannah blinked, looking around. On the floor of the cave was a rattan blanket, which held a picnic hamper in the middle, and various candles were lit as they nestled in the many little nooks and crannies of the rock that formed their cave. Hannah felt the tears in her eyes at the thoughtfulness and she turned to look at Ari.

“Ari..” she whispered and he blinked before he realised they were happy tears.

“I just wanted to do something special.” He shrugged, “seeing as we couldn’t go anywhere.”

“It’s perfect.” She assured him, standing on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

They settled down next to each other, Hannah tucking her legs underneath her as Ari poured her a glass of wine and the two of them began unpacking their food. Before long they were tucking in with gusto, laughing and joking as they always did, the light starting to fade outside as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Simon led at the mouth of the cave, napping. It was quiet, romantic, and they could have been anywhere as they sat and simply enjoyed being with one another as the night passed them by.

“Shit.” Ari sighed as he tipped the last of the wine into Hannah’s glass “We drank it all.”

“You only bought 2 bottles?” Hannah teased and gave her a look as she giggled.

“I’m sorry.” He said sarcastically causing her to laugh.

“Don’t pout Mi Lobo.” She set her glass down and shuffled over to him

“Ya know, my feelings are pretty hurt.” He muttered as she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah?” she asked, her lips now making their way down to his jaw line.

“Yup…” he sighed, eyes closing as she brushed over the whiskers on his face, his breath hitching as she reached his neck.

“Feel better now?”

“Not quite…”

“How about now?” Hannah asked, her teeth grazing his ear lobe.

“Gettin’ there.” Ari mumbled, turning his head, his mouth finding hers. The kiss was deep, their tongues sliding effortlessly together as Hannah let out a little whimper, a noise Ari would never, ever tire of hearing.

Pulling away he ran his nose up her throat to her chin, nudging her head back a little and Hannah’s weight fell backwards onto her arms, her palms burying into the cool sand. His lips gently placed a warm, open mouthed kiss onto her neck, causing her to shiver softly as his right hand traced up her side, over the top of. With a fluid movement he slid the strap down, and his head dipped, mouth sucking gently at her delicate collar bone. Hannah gave a soft sigh and Ari moved, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her into his lap, her knees falling either side of his thighs as his hands slid up to cup her face. He looked at her for a moment, her blue eyes shining in the reflection of the moonlight on the ocean outside.

“God, I love you.” He whispered, his eyes closing as her fingers tangled in his beard, her lips ghosting over his.

“I love you too Mi Lobo…”

And that was it, those 2 fucking words that she’d spoken so many damned times over the past two years sparked something primal, animalistic in him and his hands moved her face back to his as he kissed her hard.

Hannah palmed her hands against his chest before her fingers carefully began popping the buttons of his shirt. As her fingers brushed his skin as she worked it open, the sensation of her touch caused goosebumps to bubble over his entire body, and as usual, her infectious smile brought forth a pulsating desire from deep within him that was impossible to ignore. Once his shirt was undone she reached up and pushed it down over his broad shoulders and Ari freed his arms, tossing it off to the side somewhere as Hannah’s mouth met his once more in a furious kiss. Her tongue was in his mouth, seeking his and he felt her teeth gently nibbling at his bottom lip. At that, Ari gave a growl and he pulled away, dropping his head to the spot on her neck once more, hands moving from her hips to pull her dress over her head. With an easy snap of his fingers, he undid the clasp of her bra and she pulled it off, dropping it besides them. Ari took a moment to look at her chest, his hands sliding up her ribcage, his eyes flicking back to hers so he could watch her response as he began to play with her in a way he knew she loved. Over and over he gently kneaded and palmed her sensitive flesh, thumbs skating her nipples before he softly tweaked them both, teasing them to soft peaks as he dropped his head, his mouth engulfing her right bud. He sucked and teased with his tongue before gently grazing with his teeth all the while feeling her grinding down on him, her hands tangling in his hair.

“Shit…” she groaned, nails biting into his scalp as he pushed upwards, the bulge in the front of his shorts grinding up against her spot through her now soaked panties, mouth and hands still teasing at her breasts. “Ari…”

“What do you want baby girl?” he whispered against her skin as his mouth moved upwards, beard scratching, teeth nipping her neck as she continued making those noises that he could listen to all damned day. Her hands let go of his hair as she fumbled to unbutton his shorts and he moved slightly so that she could pull them down a little over his hips. Her warm palm wrapped around now aching cock and pulled it free from his underwear and Ari gave a slight hiss through his teeth, slipping his hands under the hem of her dress. His large hands cupped her ass cheeks, fingers digging into the underneath just where the curve of her globes met her thighs and he pulled her tight against him. The grip of her hand around his dick drew a groan from his mouth and he swallowed, his voice raspy as he spoke again. “Tell me baby…” he instructed and then when she answered, her words combined with her hand tightening around his cock almost made him shoot his load there and then

“Fuck me Ari…”

With a growl, Ari moved his hands, pulling her panties aside as she shiftedd herself, her hand guiding him towards her. Lining him up, she lowered herself down, giving a long, drawn out whimper of delight as she felt him fill her.

“Shit, Han…” Ari groaned, his hands on her hips as he bucked upwards, feeling her hot, warmth tighten around him. “God you feel so good baby…”

At his dirty talk Hannah moaned again, her hands moving up to rest on his shoulders and without warning Ari thrust his hips up in a dirty grind, pushing himself into her as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her nails digging into his skin, one hand moving to tangle into his hair at the back and she gave a sharp tug, pulling his head back.

The bite of pain made his cock twitch even more, but the noise he made was swallowed as her lips crashed onto his, and it was all too much. He needed release. Ari began to matching her motions, the wet sound of his balls slapping against her ass echoed off the rough, rocky walls of their hidden little hideout and his lips moved from hers to her jaw, nipping at her skin.

“You've had me hard for you all day, Firefly…” he panted and Hannah gave a soft wail at his words, “Such a fuckin’ tease…”

His movements picked up, becoming faster as he rutted upwards into her again and again, and she began to move herself, her hips rocking forward and back furiously as she ground her clit against his pubic bone, her eyes locked on his as she moved. Ari’s fingers dug into the skin just above the waist band of her panties, nails biting her delicate hips as she worked herself into an almost frantic pace, and Ari knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer.

“Come for me baby…” he said, his mouth back on her neck “Come on, good girl…”

At his words, Hannah was a complete goner, powerless to stop the pleasure that was lancing through her very core. She came, with a surge that shook her entire body, her head falling back as she gasped, mouth open, a broken, trembling cry escaping her as she pumped her hips wantonly against his crotch, riding the wave of her orgasm bucking once... twice... before she collapsed against his chest going completely limp, breathing hard. Ari’s own hips were still pumping upwards as he raced towards his own end, Hannah completely spent on his laps before he felt that coil in his belly and groin snap and with a loud groan, he came, the intensity shocking him slightly as he bit down on her shoulder, his hips stopping and he collapsed backwards, crashing onto the sand behind him, Hannah clutched to his chest.

Time just stopped for them both, Ari’s hands gently caressing her back, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to Hannah’s forehead as they both lay, breathing deeply, waiting for the earth to right itself. Ari had no idea if it was 1 minute or 5, but eventually he felt Hannah stir a she snuggled further into his chest.

“God, Ari, that…that was incredible.” She croaked. "Yeah....." was all he could manage in return.

Part 2

#leave no one behind #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson fanfiction #red sea diving resort

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addictedtomanga · 4 years

Text

Shoujo manga recommendations - sad(ish)/tragedy

So, some of these manga actually have a happy ending (I’m not saying which, cause spoilers) and a few of these are generally happy with some tragic events among the story, so.

And they range from “ok, it’s sad, I guess” to “oh my god, why??”

Also, most of them touch the supernatural theme (either with vampires, ghosts etc)

1. 100% Gokuama Kareshi

A collection of one shots.

! The third chapter fits the sad/tragedy theme.

2. Babel no Tegami

Even after all these years, you’re still the only one I think of… I’ll put all of my feelings into this letter for you.

3. Black Bird

The world is full of mysterious "things," but life keeps on going peacefully because no one can see them--except Misao. Harada Misao has the special power to see these "things," but she doesn't tell anybody and tries to continue leading a happy high school life. Though she's jealous of her friends who have boyfriends, she's just like a normal teenage girl as she keeps having dreams about a boy she met when she was younger who has the same power as she does.

Her mundane life suddenly changes when goblins try to eat her, and her old friend Kyo comes back to protect her from them. Then, she finds out that she is personally being sought out as goblin food and that Kyo is a goblin, too. Will she still marry him like they promised when they were children, based on her faith in him that he has no bad intentions towards her? Will she even be safe at school now that Kyo has become her new homeroom teacher? Her exciting teenage life is just about to begin.

4. Boku no Hitsugi de Bansan o

A collection of one shots.

5. Datte, Kimi wa Warau kara

Let’s get into a time machine and return to that time.

Where it was always fun and you were always laughing, to that time... "I only have three more months to live" Yui who just transferred to a new school in the countryside becomes Ryo’s classmate. Yui who is suffering from an illness has a "wish" that she can’t tell anyone, but Ryo wants to grant her that wish but… After death, reality hits Ryo and Yui.

6. Gunjou - Ai ga Shizunda Umi no Iro

Even though they played together innocently since they were young, somewhere along the way, the seeds of “love“ started to grow. Growing up on an outlying island from Okinawa, Kazuya, Ryoko and Daisuke were brought up like a family. They wanted to be together forever, but the three of them have different desires. One wants to stay, one wants to go, and one of them wants to go, but can’t. When Daisuke is lured away from the island, Ryoko decides to stay on the island with Kazuya. However, the three of them will experience a cruel fate...!

! The first and second chapters fits the sad/tragedy theme.

7. Kanojo ga Tonda Hi

Drawn from the heart, a collection of sketches about the problems of our time. “Recruiting those who want to finish it and die, but feel sad doing it alone…” Fed up with everything, Mie posted a notice on an Internet Bulletin Board and found suicide-partners. Four boys and girls were gathered together because of their ties to death. And then…?!

!!! Trigger warning

8. Kao no Nai Otoko

Two lovers got separated by war. Now the try to find each other. But when the girl finds him, he isn't the same as before...

9. Kigi no Yukue

Juri has always been saying to herself that she has done everything that she wanted to do, and has lived to her own satisfaction. Plus, she's always been skipping class and coming in late in the mornings, only to be confronted by her class rep, Yoh. Aware of her own situation, she knows that she shouldn't leave any remaining desires and feelings behind...

10. Kyou no Kira-kun

In 360 days, there were bright days and disappointment while I was staring at you. Though they were neighbors, Nino and Kira had never talked to each other...

But when Nino found out about Kira's secret, her life changes and everyday became more interesting!!

11. Kobayashi ga Kawai Sugite Tsurai

The comedy starts when the cross-dressing begins! The Kobayashi twins, Mego and Mitsuru, were named after historical figures, but only Mego has grown up with a taste for history. So when Mitsuru is in danger of losing his weekends to extra history classes, he convinces his sister to swap clothes with him and ace his tests! After all, how hard can it be for them to play each other? But Mego can’t rely on just her book smarts in Mitsuru’s all-boys, delinquents’ paradise of a high school. And Mitsuru finds life as a high school girl to be much more complicated than he expected!

12. Koi Kyokusei

An overly touching love story of a miracle... “One’s “thought“ is subject to change. A change in a human can change the world. Since we’re not alone, we have to be brave.“ Toda Erika’s shining star is rising... It’s a miracle of love. Sakura is willing to do anything like wishing on a star because she wishes to grant her beloved Hirose’s dream. This small deed is what attracts Sakura and Hirose to each other.

!!! Trigger warning (2nd chapter)

13. Kon no ki Konoha

Only in autumn when the dead leaves flutter about can Akino meet the mysterious boy who lives inside the deep blue tree.

14. Mademoiselle Butterfly

Our heroine is a girl who lives as a geisha in Japan. She has a male childhood friend who's always been kind to her and is her favorite. He's a painter, only he paints on human body parts and she loves it when he paints beautiful butterflies on her arms. She goes to visit him one day and finds a naked woman lying in his room. Immediately after, she gets a customer who's rich and very interested in her. The thought of being away from her friend pains her, but is everything really too late?

15. Maigo no Obakeyashiki

A girl is bored of her unchanging peaceful life, and goes to a house that is considered haunted. She meets a boy there instead of ghosts.

16. Michishirube

Wakako has been in love with her childhood friend, who is 2 years older than her, Chii-nii. The thing is, he went away and she’s been sad ever since. 3 years later, she sees him at her gate. Finally she can say “i like you“ but it isn’t easy as it seems. Will she be able to do it?

17. Natsu no Kakera

A collection of one shots.

! The first chapter fits the sad/tragedy theme.

18. Onaji Sora wo Miteiru

Rin is always sending messages with her phone and doesn’t speak to anyone. Even though she’s like that, Taka got interested in her and keeps on following her. But why doesn’t she want to look at him...? And who is this mysterious person with whom she always exchanges messages with...?

19. Orange

One day, Takamiya Naho receives a letter written to herself from ten years in the future. As Naho reads on, the letter recites the exact events of the day, including the transfer of a new student into her class named Naruse Kakeru. The Naho from ten years later repeatedly states that she has many regrets, and she wants to fix these by making sure the Naho from the past can make the right decisions—especially regarding Kakeru. What’s more shocking is that she discovers that ten years later, Kakeru will no longer be with them. Future Naho asks her to watch over him closely.

20. To the Earth-Born You

A tsunami that caught everyone off guard washed away homes and broke up families. At this moment, why bother remembering the past that can't be changed? Other than adding on to the survivors' sorrow, it also bring up those heart-tearing pasts...

21. Tsuki no Waltz

A collection of one shots.

22. Usotsuki Tenshi To Ama No Jaku

In front of Marika that lost ability to smile suddenly appeared mysterious boy calling himself "angel"...!?

23. Usurai ni Saku

Two kids become friends, even though he has an incurable illness. One winter, he was told he wouldn't be able to live to the next spring and she...

24. Winter Flowers

A cute and sad story about childhood friends. Yuudai's father is a fireworks maker and ever since he was a kid he has wanted to take over for his father once he turns 18. He made a promise to his childhood friend Hana when they were kids that she could see his first ever created fireworks... However, something isn't right...

25. Yume Kurai

Whenever Akane falls asleep, she always dreams of talking to a boy. This boy says that he “eats“ her dreams. Who is this boy?

26. Yurusarete Inai Watashitachi

A collection of one shots.

! The second and third chapters fits the sad/tragedy theme

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jojparasol · 5 years

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adore you

Okay it’s safe to say I was supposed to be writing this in inspiration of ‘cherry’ but i completely forgot and by the end, i based it on adore you instead soooo... Anyways, this will probably be a series that is connected through the song but not the stories if that makes any sense???? But this is now in celebration of adore you and i’ll most likely make a masterlist after a few more. Also, i haven’t answered any of my asks from months ago about the silver springs series so i apologise for not doing so, i’ll try be more active! Enjoy x

The one where Harry wants her, even after their breakup.

Word count: 1.6k

Angst and a smidgen of fluff

She answered the ringing phone across her room, stretching her body as she reached out for the vibrating device. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking at the five-letter name that filled the screen with no contact photo.

Harry.

Y/N let the phone ring, watching and counting in her head the number of times she let it ring.

One. Two. Three.

And it ended like that. She grabbed her phone, unlocking it before going to her missed calls, his contact name spread at the top of the screen. Her lips pointed to one side, wondering if he would call again or maybe she would.

God, she hasn’t seen that contact in forever. Of course, she’s seen the name, with the tabloids and social media where he’d sometimes pop up in her notifications if she posted, but it wasn’t too unusual. They ended off on good terms, she likes to think... But a piece of her knows the breakup wasn’t fair, with Y/N leaving him abruptly and it was safe to say that they both ended up in tears. Especially Harry - he didn’t want to break up with her at all but they concluded with Harry respecting her decision to leave. He reminded himself to be the man his mother raised him. She wanted to leave, not being able to handle the pressure of dating such a man and being too afraid. Heck, he even proclaimed his love for her, insisting she didn’t have to say it back but his plans never work out the way he desires. And so Harry’s dreams were set fire by fiends.

Her thumb unconsciously tapped the screen and before she knew it, the phone was vibrating again but it was her turn to call. Unlike her response, he answered almost straight away.

It connected but silence filled the phones, only small sounds of rustling on the other side before a cough emitted through her speaker.

“Y/N?”

He sounded tired. His voice raspy, the one word said as if her name was delicate, rolling off his tongue with a simple stride. Harry missed saying her name, not that he called her by it much since he loved nicknames. But when he did, it toured him back to the first time they met, only calling her by her name before slowly introducing endearing terms that made her heart feel warm.

“Hi,” she let out a quick breath, closing her eyes as darkness blurred her vision.

“You answered.”

Opening her eyes, she held her breath before releasing, a shaking fan of air gasped from her lips.

“Did you need anything?” She asked, wanting to get straight to the point because if they dwelled along, the string would get tangled.

“I-I miss you. Y/N, please come over, jus’ for tonight,” he murmured barely above a whisper but she could hear the desperation lacing in his tone. Y/N ran her tongue across her teeth, slightly touching her lips as she looked outside her window.

“Are you okay Harry?”

“Please Y/N,” he ignored her question, almost begging on his knees. He missed everything — from her presence to her smile. “Jus’ one more night.”

Y/N barely heard his last words, her mind hitting hard against her goose-bumped skin, contemplating what she should do. Her love for Harry was crawling back up into the present, tugging on her heartstrings to just say yes. “Harry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You breaking up with me wasn’t a good idea yet here we are.”

She frowned at his salty remark, knowing he wasn’t kidding and it was half true. Fumbling with her words, she let out an answer.

“Okay.”

When she ended the call, she didn’t realise how dark it was outside. Of course, she knew that it was late afternoon but the sun seemed to say goodbye a little earlier than usual. Nevertheless, she drove to the address that was imprinted in her mind like an instinct. Y/N wasn’t gonna lie when she pulled up into his driveway, she was hesitant to come out, almost wanting to steer her wheel back to the traffic. But she mentally slapped herself, dragging her body to the front porch and knock at his door. And when it opened, she almost wanted to cry.

Harry looked beautiful — maybe even more than usual, probably because there was a part of her that realised the absence of his being hurt her more than it should. His face was unshaven, scuffed and a little rough. His hair all messed and tousled while the only piece of clothing were sweatpants and a lavender robe that gave a sneak peek of his tattoos. His eyes were sunken as if all the forest colours were sucked out, filled with an undertone of grey that lacked life. Yet, Y/N still found him as gorgeous as ever.

“Y/N.” God. She was wrong when she thought that Harry saying her name over her phone sounded heavenly, she forgot what he sounded in real life. Y/N wasn’t able to speak, Harry beating her to it. “Come in.”

She nodded her head, following him through the living room as he sat down on the couch. A wave of memories rushed through her mind before she blanked out. “Harry, you don’t look okay.”

He let out a chuckle, thinking it was the most obvious thing ever. “No shit.”

Y/N simply shook her head, leading herself towards the kitchen to prepare themselves a cup of tea, knowing it was what he needed.

“You don’t need to do this Y/N.” She heard his voice come closer as she turned around from the counter, watching him take a seat in front of the island.

Y/N rubbed her hand against her temple. “Then what do you want from me?”

She was left with silence, letting out a frustrated sigh as she turned around, grabbing two mugs and pouring the newly brewed tea. Harry watched her intently, every action observed and noted in his memory. And to be honest, he didn’t even know exactly what he wanted from her — all he knew was that he just wanted her.

“How’s your life, Y/N?” What exactly was he trying to do? He didn’t want to know the basic bullshit of her life, he wanted something more and it seemed like both of them knew that.

Y/N let out a laugh, handing him the cup of tea as he gave thanks. She sat down next to him on the stool and took a small sip off of her cup. “Cut it, Harry.”

“Okay well, got any new guys?” He joked, taking a big sip of his beverage that warmed through the midst of their talking.

It was then that he noticed that she stayed silent. Almost too silent.

“Holy fuck.” He stood up abruptly, walking around the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboard as Y/N panicked.

“Harry, it’s not serious.” She watched as he kept shaking his head in detail, taking out a bottle of wine and pouring it into a tall glass. “We’re not even together, H.”

“B-but it’s only been a few months, Y/N!” He almost shouted, her whole body shifting immediately at his tone. “Fuck, I miss you so much.” His whole demeanour seemed to change, sobbing the last words out of his mouth, the glass of wine almost finished as he gulped it down within seconds. He continued repeating the same phrase and Y/N felt frozen, unbeknownst to the fire his heart was feeling in that moment. Publicly admitting his words made everything the mile more real.

He missed her, more than anything. He craved those small moments with her. From the one time, they stayed through the summer sky and into the night on her couch, their bodies filled with junk food as they cuddled up into each other, leaving little to no space for anything else. Or the one time that Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, begging Harry to take her to the nearest 24 hours McDonald's for a sundae. And although reluctant, by the time they were there, Harry’s pinkie finger was covered in ice cream, slathering it onto her nose as Y/N carelessly left kisses all over his face. And did he mention that her kisses were like a strawberry lipstick state of mind? It was those moments he craved. It gave him pure bliss, never feeling connected to the woman more than anyone in the world like he had just walked into her rainbow paradise. He was head over heels completely infatuated.

By the time tears were escaping, Y/N had rushed towards him, her arms wrapping around his figure. He hugged back the instant he felt the familiar embrace, his head nestling into her neck as he continued mumbling how much he missed her.

“I missed you too.” She tightened the grip around them, almost tearing up herself again. They stood still for a silent minute just to bathe in each other’s presence and collect their hurt. But it was when Harry spoke up that they slightly let go, their face only inches away.

“Would you believe it? Would you believe that I’d do anything for you? Probably walk through fire for you. You don’t even have to be mine for me to do all that,” he breathed out as Y/N nodded profusely, their lips almost touching.

But she moved her head a little backwards, giving her enough space to wipe the stray tears that left Harry’s tired eyes, feeling the softness of his skin against her thumb before pulling away. “I know.”

Harry drawing her a tiny bit closer as he pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. He looked into her eyes, getting lost like he did the first time he saw her. It was then that Harry knew just what he wanted from her.

“Just let me adore you.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How John Krasinski Convinced Emily Blunt to Do A Quiet Place Part II

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Emily Blunt was in a different place three years ago. That, of course, applies to most people. But back then, in the lush jungles of Hawaii and filming opposite Dwayne Johnson, she was a million miles from the hushed hell endured by the Abbott family in A Quiet Place, which was just becoming the surprise horror hit of 2018. She had no intention of going back.

The sentiment is understandable. In fact, it was initially shared by her husband, writer-director-actor John Krasinski, who, like his wife, was skeptical about the prospect of making a follow-up, even in our modern era of shared universes. But as Blunt told us when we sat down a year (and lifetime) ago in New York’s Dolby SoHo, once Krasinski gets a new idea, it’s the damnedest thing.

“I was the one who was even more steadfast about not coming back,” Blunt says. “There was that feeling of wanting to preserve the first one.” In the early days of the earlier film’s success, she said no, and Krasinski told Paramount Pictures to court other writers… and yet, that kernel of a vision persisted for Krasinski. One which he couldn’t shake until the day he shared it with Blunt.

“I remember him pitching me the opening,” she says. “And I was like, ‘Cool, I’m not going to be in the movie.’ And he was like, ‘Oh no, I know that.’” He then revealed the first scene is a flashback of the Abbott family before the events of A Quiet Place, enjoying a greater moment of peace than we’ve ever seen with them. The monsters then descend. Afterward, Blunt could only concede, “So I’m going to be in the movie.”

Titled A Quiet Place Part II—Blunt’s suggestion, since it feels as much like the next chapter as a standalone��the new film begins in earnest mere hours after the events of the last movie. Lee Abbott (Krasinski) is dead, and his family is left to wander the wilderness after strange aliens who lack sight (but have horrifyingly adept hearing) eviscerated their farm. Alone in the world, matriarch Evelyn (Blunt) has a newborn – who they must keep quiet at all times – in her arms and two young children to protect. But the oldest of them, Regan (Millicent Simmonds), has never been one to follow her parents’ path.

The idea that possessed Krasinski, to the point where, on a Hawaiian beach he persuaded Blunt to return, was always about Simmonds’s Regan: a resilient young woman who, like the actor portraying her, is hearing impaired.

“The first one is about the promise you make as a parent, that if you stick with me, I can keep you safe forever,” Kransinski says. “That’s a promise that I think all parents know will be broken. I realized when that promise is broken, that’s what growing up is… So if the first one is a love letter to my kids, then this is a weird letter to my kids about the dream that I have for them. I hope they’re this positive, I hope they’re this courageous, and they can go into the dark and light a candle.”

That image of a candle in the dark, and Regan becoming as brave (and stubborn) as her old man, is what gnawed at Krasinski.

“Undeniable” is how Blunt describes it. “I think it crept up on him. I think once an idea is that good, it clings to you and it’s very hard to shake.”

The approach also allowed Krasinski to more fully explore the totality of what the Abbotts lost. For instance, that first flashback scene he pitched to Blunt is partially an excuse to have Lee appear again in the movie, but it also underscores the feeling of an idyllic past life robbed by a global tragedy. Opening on a baseball field, the family watches Marcus (Noah Jupe) play Little League, and the viewer immediately senses paradise will soon be lost.

“In the opening of the movie, there’re even visuals that I wanted to feel like the sense [you get from] Jaws,” Krasinski says. “Being on the beach [is like] when we’re at the baseball game. Storytelling-wise, what I learned from it is simplicity.”

When we spoke to the pair, as well as with other members of the A Quiet Place Part II cast, it was early March 2020. The full reality of the pandemic had yet to set in, but by virtue of no one shaking hands during the interviews, the significance of the real-life horror was already inescapable. Perhaps, then, the movie’s delayed theatrical release to May 2021 is serendipitous, as Krasinski’s vision for the future is both humanist and optimistic, in spite of its dystopia. Cillian Murphy, who plays an enigmatic stranger who crosses the Abbotts’ path, certainly thinks so.

“The film does delicately explore those themes,” Murphy says. “But these kinds of things have been happening since time immemorial. How do societies react to crises? How do individuals react? Do they retreat or do you offer a hand? I think with my character, he starts at one place in the movie and he ends up at another place without it being heavy-handed or didactic. I think the subtext exists.”

Blunt would agree with the sentiment.

“I find this a terribly human film,” she contends. “Yes, the creatures are awful and terrifying… but they’re there to offer a backdrop for how humanity withstands. So that’s what I adore about it. You see a fractured community, you see what is shutdown, but then you see the rebirth and the awakening. Ultimately, human beings want to feel a sense of togetherness.”

Hopefully that includes in the dark of a movie theater.

A Quiet Place Part II opens in theaters on May 28.

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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years

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Homesquared Chapter 4

I cheated and some of my chapter 4 thoughts leaked into the chapter 3 post lol

Mostly about the pretty obvious Garden of Eden metaphor Dirk is for some reason setting up for himself and Rose as Adam and Eve

and I was about to say which begs the question of what the heck role Terezi is supposed to play as but then it’s very obviously as the Snake in the Garden

Terezi is very much just barely holding back some irritation towards how Dirk is treating Rose, but she’s also very intelligent and is aware of How much Dirk sees/knows and controls about their situation, so she’s probably leveraging her powers over Mind as much as possible in order to stay hidden in plain sight from Dirk’s narrative

and she does so in a way that is one of Dirk’s only blindspots - How Mind and other people have an effect in the determination of the Soul/Heart

By acting in a manner and doing things in a way that aligns with his expectations of her, he assumes and pigeonholes her into a type of character and bases his predictions of her behaviors off of that archtype, never expecting her to act outside it, and when he sees her actions and thoughts and desires all align within it, never questions that it might one day change or was different all along. Dirk’s never really been good at reading other people, can’t see without the lens of “how would I do it” blinding him to things he would never think to do, a trap that he keeps falling into with his friends and one he’s probably trying to overcome by becoming Ultimate God Person/combining all perspectives into his own and uncovering blindspots like that

But right now Mind is the darkest thing in is corner still and I think he sort of knows that as well

Terezi walks the crazy wiggled line boundary between their two Souls that defines who each of them is, as expertly as a person on a tightrope, never wavering until she reaches her destination, at which point she’ll leap off of that line and leave Dirk scrambling to try and calculate her next move/who exactly is she/what her goals are, since’s it won’t be following the clearly defined Heart boundary he’s used to drawing his plans by, so she’ll have to choose the perfect moment in order to entice Eve of the Apple of Revelation once more, heck, she might even do that so sneakily that she gets Adam to take a bite as well, since as soon as Rose bites it she’ll have an ally with her against Dirk.

For God created the Serpent originally as well, so thus why did he not imagine it’s betrayal and prevent it before it could have happened? Or else why did he create something he knew was going to betray? Eden was a paradise, so why intentionally create Evil in that paradise?

If Eve corrupted Adam and the Snake corrupted Eve, Who exactly corrupted the first Serpent? That’s something that the bible never goes into really, at least in Genesis, except to say that the Snake was punished for it’s action to forever crawl the earth eating the dust of man’s heel, punishing all snakes, as Adam and Eve’s punishment punished all humans

(Later I think the bible would try to say that the Snake was the Devil all along, but then why punish the Snake and all it’s progeny for it? If it was the Devil’s doing that undid Adam and Eve then why punish them for the Devil’s actions they would have no way of guarding against or now way of knowing it was a lie? Was it not God’s failure? The Walls of the Garden of Eden were supposed to protect his perfect creation afterall)

Gotta say though I really Rose’s design

I would call her Evil Rose, but she things she does she does in ignorance, not really out of evil, it would be like calling Eve evil for listening to the Snake when she was purposefully blinded to it’s intentions by her creation by God.

Once again we get this idea of Knowledge and Choice affecting eachother, Well I say again but really I’ve been watching RWBY a lot lately and the idea that you can’t make a real choice without real knowledge comes up a lot in it’s mythos and it is really applicable here

Terezi’s design as well is incorporating a lot more Red, she really dug those red shoes aesthetic but gave it her own twist, she’s got a red tie, her ever present red cane and glasses and even in that shot of her her horns look more red and solid as well, even though i know it’s just the lighting

So really digging the whole Terezi is the Apple/Snake in the Garden metaphor, she has also been having that tendency to just snack on random plants, intentionally for her own or Dirk’s unaware benefit or not, it’ll make it that much easier to her actions of later betrayal to be seen as “in character and therefore expected and not dangerous” instead of pre-meditated and actually dangerous, to him

And then they start waxing about their various philosophical babble, Dirk seems really determined to also use this to try and figure out that whole problem of how other’s affect the self, he’s trying at least, I think, in his own way. But not for a good reason, not so that he can have a real understanding of that, but because he wants to use it to guard his own self even further

He’s maybe not using Rose here as an equal player, but more like a wall to bounce his own ideas off of and test them, like using a neural learning AI to test ideas or an actual literal wall in a game of table tennis.

Heh, I got a chuckle out of the fact that Dirk’s answer to the Ship of Theseus problem is “why does we even have to remove and replace parts of it, why not keep the original pristine and eternal?”

because it’s funny how avoidant of the problem that answer is, man he really really is uncomfortable with the idea of changing the self in any way

“He's avoiding the question again. It's amazing how one can technically have the maximum amount of metaphysical personal awareness possible, and still not notice these sorts of things. “

SAYS LITERALLY YOU but honestly this is just more fuel to the idea that maybe he can make a genuine connection and understanding with a person if he can recognize how he and her are the same

“It's stuff like this that makes me wonder sometimes whether there's anything about myself that I'm missing. Then I throw that wonder in the garbage can and turn the incinerate setting on.”

but nah he’s still firmly denying that possibility, he’s almost actually equating his trauma of self erosion with the idea that making friends and understanding others changes the self in subtle ways as well

He can’t even stand the thought of his own close friends influencing him to be different in small subtle ways or adjusting his behavior for others because that STILL counts as a change of self that he didn’t authorize or choose.

Also can’t help but by be reminded of my wacky little fan made Gamma session I made forever ago by them using the name Delta-Detritus and basically be like alright, what if we do SBURB again but BETTER/worse this time?? Which is essentially the thread that most Homestuck fix it fanfiction tends to go towards

Though I am curious now

We got A/Alpha for Alternia which is based of off “Alternate” introducing the trolls as an alternate race to Human Earth

B/Beta for Beforus which is based of off “Before” introducing the planet of trolls that came before the first group

And then Earth C, now, there isn’t a letter C, the third in the greek alphabet is actually Γγ Gamma, (and the fourth is ΔδDelta)

So I wonder what “name” Earth C really has?

It feels like it should either start with C OR with GA, as Alternia starts with the AL of Alpha, Beforus starts with the BE of Beta and same with Deltritus and Delta

As as “Another for Earth” Gaia isn’t a terrible option all things considered, now you just have to make it sound like a word which describes it’s use to the narrative

It’s is a very split place, having the two timelimes Meat and Candy associated with it, as well it does feel extremely mercurial in nature, being a sort of crosswords between Homestuck and Homesquared proper, and really exists in a place between stories, an ephemeral epilogue of sorts

really a merger of Gaia and Gemini feels the most appropriate here, like Gamini, also the word mini stands out in there as well, knowing that this Planet is sort of on a lesser status compared to the other three since it’s not going to be the birthplace of a session, also has the word Game in it

But then people will wonder why it doesn’t begin with a C since it still is called Earth C so *shrug*

Honestly C K and G sounds are all very similar in the tongue, so maybe it’s both Camini and Gamini at the same time OH FUCK CA AND GA, ONE HAS CALLIOPE ONE HAS GAMZEE? SHIT IM ONTO SOMETHING (no im not)

I like Camini now better, it comes from a place of Gamma/Gamzee/Game/Gemini but ends up being more about the twinned Ca’s that were used to, Caliborn and Calliope and fits with the establish Earth C theme

So there you go, Earth C’s actual planet name should be Camini

which also works because:

Camini

home stove/furnace

smelting/foundry furnace, forge

vent (underground fires)

according to the latin language this word also has multiple meanings and many Irons in the Fire, I think the fandom will appreciate the name haha

Yeah both races are definitely going to both be playing one game of SBURB, despite what Dirk is intending, the pic does make it really clear

There’s something to say how Dirk seems to be represented by Purple and Rose by Orange in this here and then how all of the cave is a backdrop of that same purple.

Look at even the controllers on the machine having purple and orange knobs, even being solely on Dirk’s side of the image

I guess Dirk intends himself to be the force behind Derse, since that’s the force that always “wins” and Rose fitting in her place as the ultimate loser (since of course Dirk will want to win his own game) but also to be like Skaia the force of Prospit

So Dirk intends to be a whisperer like a horrorterror, choosing to manifest his influence that way, while Rose will give visions to her race like Skaia?

makes sense honestly

but again even with the themes of duality, the theme of the trio is bright and center in that piece of ultimately technology, the third influence hidden unseen in the furthest corner behind the curtain of snakelike tubes and wires that Dirk will not expect to interfere, or even have the capability to interfere, Terezi

heck it’s even in the buttons next to the controls being colored red blue and green

there’s so much duality in homestick with destructive red and creative green but then there’s also always been that mercurial breathy blue as the third

God, tell me that doesn’t look like a baby proto horrorterror

I can hear it raging it’s revenge against it’s cruel human creators even as I type

No wonder they become associated with destruction, they know theyre the pawns of two heartless cruel god children playing at life like it was a game

Rose you MUST KNOW how bad this is, it’s not a theoretical discussion anymore, that things exists and is alive and has feelings and you did it to that

and that thing is technically a Dirk too

Is this how Dirk get’s his revelation? Or downfall? As his Heart is unwittingly invaded by the horrified cacophanous screams of his grotesque tortured progeny crying out for his blood?

His end unintentionally ending up as the thing he feared most? Inner self destruction caused by his own sharp and bloody splinters turned and pointed inward, tearing himself apart with the pieces of his own Soul? Caused by his own Hubris?

I will say typing that all out is pretty good

I’m just sad the same will probably happen to Rose too though ): Maybe she’ll make careful more humane species? Something that has the potential to exist and be happy as it’s own creature while Dirk just creates monstrosities forever in conflict with Rose’s race?

They’ll each be the master of their own eventually destinies I suppose but Homestuck seems to have a good track record so far of the Ultimate Female Creator being out to protect the happiness of the children that exist in her creation while the Ultimate Male God just ends up destroying everything in his

#Homesquared #Homestuck^2 #Dirk Strider #Rose Lalonde #Terezi Pyrope #long post

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dontminds · 4 years

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𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐗 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 . . . “ 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙀 “

for the members of this journey , it’s safe to say that fame is simply a side effect in pursuing your deepest passion . stronger for some than others . . .

this is a group verse following the documented experience of the band paradise , as well as their opening acts and crew , as they embark on their first world tour . netflix provides the raw , behind the scenes footage that entails the highs and lows of musical prowess . exploring the world , hearing your name shouted from country to country , singing your heart out — all come with a price . homesickness , pressure , and the inevitable drama , just to name a few. as cameras follow you on and off stage , paradise appears the gain an altered definition in the eyes of young talent .

just the usual guidelines : no godmodding , ooc drama , and please only apply with the intent of being active . i will be doing activity checks , and after 3 days a 24hr warning is posted , and then inactive muns will be removed from the server . please make sure we’re mutuals before applying !

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑

FIRST LAST is known to be ROLE , facing stardom at only AGE IN LETTERS years old . fans have described them as +TRAIT but also -TRAIT . the FACECLAIM lookalike is wondering if THOUGHTS ABOUT TOUR and looking forward to visiting LOCATION SUGGESTION on tour . ( ooc , age , tz , @url )

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 ( 3 / 3 )

IZZY RAMOS is known to be OPENING ACT , facing stardom at only TWENTY-TWO years old . fans have described them as AMBITIOUS but also RECKLESS . the BECKY G lookalike is wondering if SHE WOULD HAVE TIME TO GO PARTYING IN EVERY STOP and looking forward to visiting LONDON on tour . ( jules , 23 , gmt -3 , @seremity )

SABRINA LOGAN is known to be an OPENING ACT , facing stardom at only TWENTY ONE years old . fans have described them as +IDEALISTIC but also -REACTIONARY . the SCARLETT LEITHOLD lookalike is wondering if EVERYONE WILL LEAVE HER THE HELL ALONE and looking forward to visiting AUSTRALIA on tour . ( kels , 25 , pst , @foolsongs )

TYLER RAE is known to be OPENING ACT , facing stardom at only TWENTY ONE years old . fans have described them as +ENTHUSIASTIC but also -QUICK TEMPERED . the KAIL PEERY lookalike is wondering if ALL MEN WILL DROP DEAD and looking forward to visiting TOKYO, JAPAN on tour . ( adri , 24 , est , @litscigarette )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 ( 5 / 5 )

KADE VINSON is known to be THE BASSIST , facing stardom at only TWENTY THREE years old . fans have described them as ARDENT but also MALLEABLE . the BOOBOO STEWART lookalike is wondering if INTERNATIONAL FANS GO JUST AS HARD and looking forward to visiting TOKYO on tour . ( lizzy , 19 , pst , @dontminds )

BENNI FORESTER is known to be THE DRUMMER , facing stardom at only TWENTY-TWO years old . fans have described them as ELECTRIC but also ANGSTY . the MAGGIE LINDEMANN lookalike is wondering if THERE WILL BE ENOUGH COKE ON THE BUS and looking forward to visiting AMSTERDAM on tour . ( lena , 21 , est , @feminince )

TEAGAN MURRAY is known to be the MAIN GUITARIST AND BACK UP VOCALS, facing stardom at only TWENTY-TWO years old . fans have described them as ECCENTRIC but also DISCOURTEOUS . the KENNEDY WALSH lookalike is wondering if SHE’D GET INTO TROUBLE FOR FLASHING HER TITS AT ONE OF THEIR SHOWS and looking forward to visiting AMSTERDAM on tour . ( holly , 20+ , gmt+8 , @frgilebones )

RHYS FERREIRA is known to be LEAD SINGER AND BACKUP GUITARIST IN THE BAND, facing stardom at only TWENTY-TWO years old . fans have described them as +DEBONAIR but also -ABRASIVE . the SHAWN MENDES lookalike is wondering if HIS GROUPIES WILL CONTINUE TO FOLLOW HIM TO EACH DESTINATION and looking forward to visiting BANGKOK, THAILAND on tour . ( leesh , 21 , pst , @wearyhands )

STEVIE ALDER is known to be A PIANIST/BACKUP VOCALS , facing stardom at only TWENTY-ONE years old . fans have described them as ANIMATED but also VAIN . the LENNON STELLA lookalike is wondering if THEY’LL HAVE A SHOT AT A SOLO CAREER IF THE TOUR FALLS THROUGH and looking forward to visiting LONDON, UK on tour . ( amanda , 21+ , mst , @ladygenie )

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖 / 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 ( 4 / 4 )

GIANA ORTIZ is known to be THE STYLIST , facing stardom at only TWENTY-THREE years old . fans have described them as CONSCIENTIOUS but also IMPATIENT . the CIERRA RAMIREZ lookalike is wondering if HER DESIGNS WILL LOOK GREAT ON STAGE and looking forward to visiting GREECE on tour . ( mary , 20 , mst , @onckiss )

CALLIE ADLER is known to be THE PHOTOGRAPHER, facing stardom at only TWENTY ONE years old . fans have described them as +HALCYON but also -DOGMATIC . the CARTIA MALLAN lookalike is wondering if SHE’LL GET PHOTOGRAPH MORE HIGH PROFILE BANDS and looking forward to visiting LISBON on tour . ( cas , 21 , cst , @flowcrbomb )

GASPAR LIBERATO is known to be THE TOUR MANAGER, facing stardom at only TWENTY-TWO years old . fans have described them as +DEBONAIR but also -FACETIOUS. the XAVIER SERRANO lookalike is wondering if HE'LL GET MORE FOLLOWERS ON INSTAGRAM FROM POSTING BACKSTAGE PICTURES and looking forward to visiting PARIS on tour . ( barbie, 23 , est+1 , @sncflwers )

KAI LOMBARDI is known to be the ROAD MANAGER , facing stardom at only TWENTY FOUR years old . fans have described them as +PASSIONATE but also -IMPATIENT . the ROME FLYNN lookalike is wondering if HE CAN GET AWAY WITH ALL OF HIS MISCHIEF ON TOUR and looking forward to visiting AUSTRALIA on tour . ( bela , 20 , gmt-3 , @drunkenloved )

#* . ⋆ 𝒗 𝒆 𝒓 𝒔 𝒆 › paradise world tour .#me n lena were sweating on the name KDJSKJDKS #she ate she full 😌#* . ⋆ 𝒐 𝒐 𝒄 › mine .

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myaekingheart · 4 years

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108. Starstruck

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

Konoha was abuzz with excitement as genin teams hung banners and balloons throughout the village. Truthfully, Rei found it rather ironic that they were assigned such a task. After all, the celebrity they were welcoming was not exactly child-friendly.

Apparently Konoha’s financial situation had dipped during this time of routine and calm. As such, Lady Tsunade had invented the wonderful idea that perhaps the village should pour more of their efforts into promoting tourism. Rei was not brave enough to note how dangerous this might be with the Akatsuki a quietly approaching threat. Before she could say anything, Shizune cringed and swiped her finger across her neck, a warning. Tsunade had clearly been stressed. Protesting her plans would likely only anger the beast.

The best way to attract visitors to Konoha, it seemed, was to piggyback on the village’s merit of being the birthplace of the great sannin, Jiraiya. There was nothing noble or respectable about this idea, however. He was not to be revered by tourists for his innate abilities but rather for his dirty books. Icha Icha was a hit the world over and so there was truly no better way to sell Konoha than to bring that fact to the fore.

Clearly, they could not use Jiraiya himself as the poster boy. Tsunade had written him a letter mapping out her idea, to which he replied emphatically but apologized for not being able to partake himself. He mentioned that Naruto was progressing wonderfully with his training and they could not afford to stop for anything, but that they hoped Konoha would welcome them both back in a year with open arms. Regarding the tourism plan, however, Jiraiya instead suggested one of the actors from the film adaptation. After all, they were on the cusp of shooting Icha Icha Violence so a press tour was only natural. Promote the film while also promoting the village. There was no way Tsunade could say no.

The first person she contacted, of course, was Koyuki Kazahana. Known by her stage name Yukie Fujikaze, she was the stunning lead actress and therefore was certain to garner lots of positive attention. However, Koyuki was not just an actress but also the princess of the Land of Snow. When she wasn’t acting, she was pouring her heart into her country. Her assistant, Sandayu, returned their correspondence with an “I regret to inform you…” and that was the end of that.

The only other option, and the one that eventually stuck, was the leading man. Keihaku Goman was charming and appealing with a lithe figure and a sparkling smile. Young adult magazines paid special attention to “eyes like pools of water” and “hair like sunshine.” He was, for all intents and purposes, a heartthrob. When it was announced that he was visiting Konoha, all the women went insane. Hair salons saw a significant increase in appointments and cute dresses flew off the racks of fashionable clothing stores. Anything to capture the attention of a sexy movie star.

“I can’t believe how everyone is freaking out” Kakashi mentioned as he and Rei weaved through the mess. “I never expected everyone in the village to be so head over heels for some actor.”

“Well, for what it’s worth” Rei replied, “he’s technically not just some actor. He’s an actor who just so happens to have a full-frontal nudity scene in a racy blockbuster. You’d be surprised what desperate women would do for dick.”

Kakashi chuckled and shook his head. As big a fan as he was of the Icha Icha series, he just couldn’t wrap his brain around the absolute chaos erupting from this man’s visit. “At least you have a level head” he replied, wrapping an arm around his fiancée. Rei gave a definitive nod, rubbing the back of her neck and looking the other way. Her silence was enough to warrant suspicion. “You do have a level head, right…?” he asked slowly.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! Yeah! Of course!” Rei replied. She pasted a huge grin on her face and swatted at the air dismissively. Kakashi was not convinced. He stared her down for a long, silent moment before finally breaking.

“Rei, please don’t tell me you’re googly-eyed for him, too” Kakashi complained.

“I’m not!” Rei exclaimed. She rubbed her forearms and muttered, “I only like him a normal amount.”

“God dammit, Rei” Kakashi whined, tossing his head back and groaning. And here he thought she wasn’t like other girls.

“I’m sorry!” Rei replied. “It’s not like I’m going to lose my shit over this guy, I just think he’s kind of, I don’t know, aesthetically pleasing. You know, in that glittery film actor sort of way. That’s all it is! Come on, Kakashi. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Pouting, Kakashi muttered a halfhearted, “Alright” but it was clear he was bothered by this. And if he was bothered, then Rei was bothered. She stopped him dead in the middle of the street, taking his forearm to pull him closer to her. He watched as she cupped his face in her hands, stared him in the eyes.

“Kakashi, believe me when I say this is not a big deal” she said. “I love you more than words can ever describe. There is no one else I would rather spend my future with.” She held up her left hand, her engagement ring glittering in the sunlight. “This should be proof enough of that.”

Kakashi stared at her for a moment, searching her gaze for any hint of dishonesty. When he found none, his expression quickly shifted from anxiety to amusement. A satisfied smile spread across his masked face as he lyrically teased, “You have a crush on Keihaku.”

Rei’s face immediately turned bright red. She removed her hands from his face and slapped him on the arm, turning away from him to hide her embarrassment. “Shut up! I already told you I do not!” she insisted.

“Okay…” Kakashi chuckled, delightfully unconvinced. He plunged his hands into his pockets and began strolling back toward their apartment, humming to himself.

“Kakashi, get back here!” Rei shouted, chasing after him. “I told you, it’s not like that! I don’t have a crush on this guy! Kakashi!”

Keihaku Goman arrived in the Hidden Leaf a few days after, welcomed by a large crowd and sweeping processional. Women screamed and fainted at the sight of him—to think, a movie star here, in Konoha, in the flesh. They would give anything to earn so much as a glance or a wink from him. A team of ANBU escorted him to the hokage’s office where he was to meet with Tsunade about his itinerary. Among his bodyguards was Rei.

In true movie star fashion, Keihaku hammed it up for the crowd as he ventured down the street, winking and waving at swooning women. Rei watched as she followed close behind and wondered how a human being could possibly be so charismatic. Every move seemed carefully choreographed and yet totally effortless. Was he playing a part, or was he truly this princely? She couldn’t tell. The longer she pondered it, however, the redder her face grew and she forced herself to remain focused. She could not let herself get distracted. She had a duty to fulfill.

Once they had reached the hokage’s office, Tsunade welcomed him warmly. At least she seemed completely unaffected by his charm. Rather, she remained polite and diplomatic just as the hokage should be. Shizune, on the other hand, was forced to muster all of her strength in order to remain standing. From the other side of the room, a group of jonin—Kakashi included—tuned in for the briefing.

Rei and Kakashi locked eyes with one another as Tsunade explained Keihaku’s tasks. He had a busy schedule ahead of him including photoshoots and even a commercial. Anything to amp up Konoha’s tourism. Meanwhile, Kakashi made discrete hand gestures to his fiancée—an overflow from his ANBU days—to communicate to her what he was thinking. And what he was thinking was that he was going to milk every ounce of her embarrassment. Her face turned bright red and she swatted at the air in a silent attempt to shut him up. Kakashi quickly dropped his eyes and stifled his laughter as Tsunade paused mid-sentence.

“Is something the matter?” she asked harshly, glaring at Rei.

Clearing her throat, Rei steadied herself and croaked, “N-no, Lady Tsunade. Just, uh…just a fly.”

Tsunade narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, completely unconvinced. She slowly turned her attention back to Keihaku’s itinerary but Rei could feel a scolding waiting for her after Tsunade was done. Once her and Keihaku were yet again occupied with his obligations, Rei shot Kakashi a sharp warning glare. Even with her mask on, he could tell her expression was something fierce.

Kakashi thumbed through Makeout Paradise as he waited outside the ANBU headquarters. It was that strange liminal period of dusk when the sky was growing too dark to read under and yet not dark enough to turn the streetlights on. And then there was a heavy shove of the door and Rei trudged out into the night air, fraught and fatigued. Kakashi tucked his book into his back pouch and waved with a grin, striding toward her. Rei knew just by the look on his face that she was in for a ration of shit. He was far too perky to not be suspicious. “So, how did your first day as Keihaku’s bodyguard go?” he asked, lacing his fingers with hers as they walked home.

“It was fine” Rei replied bluntly. “Nothing to write home about.”

Kakashi was silent for a moment before teasing, “He tried to touch your butt, didn’t he?”

“Kakashi! No! What the fuck?!” Rei exclaimed, swatting him on the arm. “Stop that! I already told you, it’s not like that!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it” Kakashi sighed sleepily. He was so nonchalant, so unaffected, it made Rei’s blood boil. Grumbling, she quickened her pace with arms folded across her chest to further enforce her displeasure. They walked along in silence for a few moments more before Kakashi went in for the kill again. “So are you going to ask him on a date?”

“What the fuck? No! Of course not!” Rei shouted. She shoved her left hand in his face. “Does this mean nothing to you, Kakashi?”

“I don’t know” Kakashi joked. “Keihaku does have a lot more money than I do. Are you sure he wouldn’t be able to buy you something nicer?”

Rei rolled her eyes and huffed her bangs out of her face. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t want it” she insisted. “It wouldn’t mean as much.”

He had to admit, hearing her get so heated about this was kind of affirming for him. He loved knowing that she was so defensively in love with him, that the thought of even considering another man made her furious. But at the same time, watching her get flustered about finding someone else attractive was far too fun. Besides, it was clear to him that he had nothing to worry about in terms of her faithfulness. He could tease her to his heart’s content and it wouldn’t mean a single thing.

“So you’re saying that if Keihaku burst out of that window right there, with confetti and trumpets blaring, and got down on one knee and asked you to go on a date with him, that you would say no?” he asked, suppressing laughter. She glared up at him, tiny but lethal. Poking her puffed out cheek, he added, “Because that is a very tempting offer!”

Rei swatted his hand away and shouted, “Maybe you should go on a date with him then, Kakashi!”

Kakashi couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, if he ever did somehow ask you on a date, I think you should go for it.” It was that statement that firmly stopped Rei in her tracks. What was he insinuating here? First of all: if he somehow asked her on a date? Was he trying to say she would be undesirable to someone like Keihaku? Not that it mattered. She didn’t care either way. But was he trying to say she wasn’t fit to be seen with a celebrity? And more importantly, I think you should go for it?! Was her fiancé really suggesting she cheat on him? Her disgust and confusion were almost palpable. Kakashi, however, was completely unphased. Of all the women in Konoha, he doubted Keihaku would ever ask Rei out. It wasn’t that he considered her undesirable in the least sense—she was the most intelligent, beautiful, and talented woman he knew. And that was exactly the problem. Men like Keihaku had no interest in women of substance. All they cared about were breast implants and sex appeal. Women with lips soaked in gloss and hair permed to perfection and fake tans to rival the gods. Keihaku would never go for someone like Rei. Truthfully, Kakashi took comfort in that. If, for whatever reason, he did ask for a date with his fiancée, however, Kakashi was not going to protest. He wasn’t giving her up in the slightest. He knew even one dinner would never lead to anything serious. Celebrities were far too shallow for that sort of thing—Keihaku could never dream of having a relationship with as much depth and integrity as that of Kakashi and Rei. Rather, Kakashi’s reasoning was much more darkly funny: he would’ve killed to see Rei make a fool of herself in front of a famous movie star. He loved her more than life itself but he knew she was far too crass and clumsy for the likes of Keihaku. The two of them in a room together, candlelight and smooth jazz, was a recipe for disaster and Kakashi was far too curious for his own good. He only regretted not having popcorn.

Rei’s glare hardened as she considered the situation. Finally, she blurted, “Then fine. Maybe I will go on a date with him then!”

“Okay” Kakashi chuckled. He patted her head as they walked along, flattening the fluff of her ponytail in the process. Rei slapped his hand away and grumbled, pouting the entire way home.

That night, she tossed and turned, restless. Thoughts of Keihaku swirled relentlessly through her head—a subject she did not want to think about. She was not interested in him. He was not going to ask her out. She was not imagining him asking her out. She was definitely not envisioning them sitting across a fancy table looking into each other’s eyes and having an incredibly in-depth and profound conversation with one another. No, Keihaku was useless. He was as profound as a cardboard cutout. She refused.

The following day, Kakashi was lounging on the couch with a book when Rei returned home. Something was off about her, however. Somehow, her bangs seemed to hide more of her face than usual. What he could see of it was beet red. Sitting up abruptly, Kakashi asked, “How was work?”

“It was…fine” Rei replied, voice restrained and cracking. Toshio picked his head up, ears perking at the squeak in her voice. Her tone was far too high-pitched to be normal. Something was wrong, Kakashi was sure of it.

“Did anything happen today…?” he asked slowly. Rei kicked her shoes off at the front door, skirted around the kitchen table. She dropped to her knees on the living room floor so as to snuggle Toshio. Anything to keep herself preoccupied.

“Um, well, I mean…” she stammered. “Kind of?”

“Kind of?” Kakashi repeated. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Like what?”

Rei wiped her nose with the back of her hand, covered her mouth so that her voice was muffled. “You’re never going to believe this, but…” she started. The suspense was killing him. Kakashi didn’t think he could handle it. What the hell was she hiding? And then, unable to restrain laughter any longer, she said it. “Keihaku literally asked me the fuck out.”

By the time the words spilled from her lips, she had fallen back onto the floor covering her face and laughing hysterically. Kakashi couldn’t tell if she was delighted with the prospect or merely thought it was so ridiculously stupid, she was reduced to deliria. All he knew for certain was that it very quickly felt as if someone had ripped his spine right out of his body and now here he was, hollow and unstructured. Suddenly the whole idea wasn’t so funny anymore.

“He…he asked you out?” Kakashi repeated slowly, voice quiet and numb. Then, voice rising slightly in horror, he asked, “W-Well what did you say?! You didn’t agree, did you?!”

Rei rolled her eyes and repositioned herself on the floor, fixing a wedgie and smoothing her dress down over her stomach. “What do you take me for, Kakashi? A whore?” she asked. Folding her arms back behind her head then, she added, “Of course I said yes.”

The entire room was spinning. Kakashi couldn’t take this. He felt like he was going to be sick. He never should’ve teased her about this. He never should’ve encouraged her. Now he just felt like an idiot. The sickening realization made him uneasy and shaky: oh god, he was going to lose her. “I-is he blind?” Kakashi erupted. “Did he not see the ring on your finger? Does commitment mean nothing to him? To you?”

Finally understanding the gravity of his response, Rei sat up and frowned. “Calm down, Kakashi, fuck” she groaned. “Were you not the one who told me to go for it if he ever asked?”

“Yes, but I never thought he’d actually do it!” Kakashi exclaimed. “I don’t want anyone else to think you’re available, or that you don’t respect our commitment to each other. We made a promise, Rei. Does it mean nothing to you?”

Rei narrowed her eyes, brows knitting in offense. “Of course, Kakashi” she said, her voice stone cold. “More than you even know.” She pressed her hand to her stomach, filing through all the thoughts she had been having the past few weeks. Of taking his last name, of becoming his wife, of wanting to conceive a child with him. He had no idea the things she had been considering, of how deeply and passionately she had been imagining their future together. Rising to her feet, she approached Kakashi and situated herself between his legs, holding his face firm in her hands. “Nothing is going to happen, I promise” she insisted. “The only reason I agreed to this is because this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I have terrible ideas. Is that clear?”

Kakashi frowned, trying to make himself believe in her words. Then, looking up at her with eyes soft and pleading, he asked quietly, “What kinds of ideas?”

A sinister grin touched Rei’s lips as she straddled his lap, running her fingers through his hair. “Oh, nothing too serious. I’m just going to milk this for all it’s worth and at the end of the night, probably pull his pants down in front of everyone in the middle of the restaurant.”

Kakashi let out an airy chuckle, shaking his head. “Are you sure that’s not just because you want his dick, too?” he asked.

Rei couldn’t restrain her incredulous laughter. “Absolutely not!” she exclaimed. “No, it’s because I think the whole world deserves to know the truth: that he actually has, and I quote, an ‘immaculately tiny penis’.”

Kakashi’s face burned at the prospect and he struggled to suppress the laughter rising in his throat. “Immaculately tiny?” he repeated. “Where did you hear that?”

Shrugging, Rei replied, “I found it in a pamphlet about the movie’s production.” Leaping to her feet, she then rushed into the kitchen and began rummaging around the junk drawer. “They said it was so unexpected and wrong for the role, that they had to hire a dick double just for the full-frontal nudity” she continued. She exclaimed with pride then as she found the very pamphlet in question crumpled up in the back of the drawer, presenting it to her fiancé with a dramatic flourish. She climbed onto the couch beside him, drawing her legs up to sit cross-legged, as she watched him flip through it, equal parts fascinated and frightened. “You know, for a movie based on a bestselling book, you’d think all of these psychotic women would do a little more reading.”

“I guess this explains his confidence” Kakashi replied. “He must be compensating.”

“I’ll say” Rei agreed.

Kakashi had to admit, Rei’s tone and her casual attitude were reassuring but there was still something nagging in the back of his mind. Something that still bothered him about all of this. He folded the pamphlet back up and placed it on the coffee table, then thought for a moment before turning to her and asking, “Is that a dealbreaker?”

Dumbfounded, Rei blinked despondently. Did Kakashi really think Keihaku’s charisma and wealth alone was enough to make her leave him? A sly smile touched her lips as she reached out and abruptly took hold of Kakashi’s crotch. His entire face turned bright red as he looked back at her, studying the determination and certainty of her gaze. “Nothing can compare to you, Kakashi” she insisted. “As far as dicks go, I’ve won the jackpot. There’s no way in hell I would ever give that up, or more importantly the amazing man it’s attached to.” She could feel him begin to harden from her touch and that gave her all the confidence to know that he understood her perfectly.

Kakashi watched with focused intent as she gathered her hair into the signature ponytail, an elastic around her wrist and a bobby pin cinched between her lips. He only took slight comfort in her rather business-professional outfit: a simple button down, a knee-length skirt. But the way the buttons strained at her breasts, the tight-fitting nature of the skirt…he couldn’t help but shudder. Friday evening had come way too quickly for his taste.

All week, he had debated being upfront and honest, telling her that this was a bad idea and refusing to let her go through with it. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Despite everything, he did not own her. If she wanted to do this, then that was her choice and no one else’s. Rei shoved a few bobby pins into the underside of her ponytail, ensuring that the shorter strands would stay put throughout the night, then flipped her head down and and misted the underside with hairspray. Kakashi coughed into the crook of his neck, the cloud of noxious fumes only further enforcing his nausea. Rei turned toward him once she was finished, studying the discomfort on his face. “Are you going to sit around sulking like this all night, Kakashi?” she asked. Kakashi pouted and dropped his gaze. Rei set the bottle of hairspray on the bathroom counter and approached him, tilting his chin up to look her in the eyes. “If you really didn’t want me to do this, all you had to do was speak up, Kakashi.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do” Kakashi replied, but Rei could tell there was more that he intended to say. After a beat of silence, he cupped her cheek in his hand and firmly added, “I don’t want you to do this.”

Quite frankly, Rei was starting to grow frustrated with his conflicted attitude. Sometimes, he would seem fine. Completely unaffected. As if he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this would amount to nothing, that her faithfulness could not be wavered. Other times, however, he was fussy and distant. Time and time again, Rei had told him that if he was truly against her doing this, then to let her know. And time and time again, he said the same thing: I’m not going to tell you what to do. She understood that this was a sign that he wanted her to drop out without him having to ask, but the truth of the matter was that she could not bring herself to pass up an opportunity like this. She wanted to enjoy the finer things for one night and make a famous man look like an idiot in the process. To absolutely disparage a wealthy heartthrob while sipping fine champagne that tasted like power. If Kakashi didn’t want her to go through with this, she needed to hear it straightforward. And now here he was, fifteen minutes from her restaurant reservation, telling her what he had held back all week.

“Kakashi…” Rei sighed. She pressed her forehead to his chest in defeat and a surge of relief washed over the copy ninja. She was finally giving in. She was going to back out at the last minute and save him from certain destruction. She rested a hand upon his chest, caressed him comfortingly. “You had all week to tell me this. Don’t you think it’s a little late to turn back now?”

Kakashi froze, his heart leaping into his chest. “S-so are you still going to go?” he asked.

Pulling back, Rei looked him in the eyes and sighed, “Yes. Yes, I am still going to go.”

“B-but—” Kakashi stammered. Before he could say anything more, though, Rei had slipped past him to retrieve her purse from the kitchen table. She slipped her shoes on at the door—the strappy sandals she always wore for more formal occasions—before turning to leave. Kakashi could feel his insides twisting and decaying at the sight, panic surging through his veins. He never should’ve egged her on. He never should’ve teased her and encouraged her. Oh god, he was going to lose her. He had felt so secure about their relationship and now he was going to lose her. All he could manage to say to her was a croaked, “When will you be back?”

Rei paused in the doorway, looking up at him, and fed him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be back before nine. Promise” she said. Then, her sympathy slowly morphed into slyness as she added, “Don’t worry, I have something extra special planned for when I get back.” Her gaze was sultry and tempting as she closed the door behind her and disappeared. Kakashi should’ve felt relieved—after all, she was promising him something supreme upon her return—but if anything, he felt even more defeated. Not only was she off to mingle with a millionaire, but now she was sexually riled up on top of it. Digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, Kakashi groaned and fell back onto the couch. It was going to be a long three hours.

He needed to do something, to preoccupy himself. Toshio picked his ears up as he stared back at Kakashi staring into the kitchen. He knew he should eat dinner, but his mood had swiped any hope of hunger from him. Instead, he swung open the refrigerator door and began cleaning out the spoiled food inside. He tossed the stinking plastic containers into the sink, tied up the trash bag and walked it down to the dumpster. Toshio followed, as if in hopes of finding scraps. Upon their return, Kakashi washed out the containers as well as any remaining dirty dishes. He took his time with each, paying no mind to the scalding water on his hands. He dried each one thoroughly and individually and put them away in their respective cabinets. The sun had nearly disappeared, the room growing dark. Kakashi flicked on a light and checked the clock. 6:45pm. This was pointless. Kakashi dropped his head back and sighed.

“Toshio, if we’re lucky” he started, “Maybe she’ll come home early.” Toshio huffed and rested his head on the floor in retaliation. Kakashi nodded, kneeling down to scratch behind the dog’s ear. “Yeah. You and me both.”

By 7 o’clock, it was clear to Kakashi that the only thing he could stand to do was read. If he could get himself right in the proper mood, nestled into the sweet spot of his literary allure, he could lose himself in the words and time would race by. He reached for Makeout Paradise, almost disgustingly satisfied with how clever this plan was meant to be, but quickly found the situation had left him changed. The book no longer brought him the same pleasure as it always had. He focused hard on the sentences in front of him, tried to envision himself and Rei in the title roles, but as luck would have it he landed on a chapter in which the third corner of the love triangle enters the plot. And in that role, all he could see was Keihaku Goman. The dashing Keihaku bursting into the room and professing his love for the heroine, Keihaku kissing her hand and begging her to choose him instead, Keihaku wrapping an arm around her waist as he whisked her into the bedroom and—

Kakashi heard the key turn in the lock and he immediately sat bolt upright. His eyes glanced to the clock. It was 8:30pm. She was home early. A hint of delight hitched in his throat. The date must have gone terribly. Perhaps it was so terrible, in fact, that Rei will never want to look at another man ever again. He hoped that that wouldn’t backfire on him, that she would not denounce all men, himself included. But now he was overthinking things. All he knew was that he needed to see her. One look and he would know exactly how things had gone. One look and it would all be over, for better or for worse.

She stepped inside and his heart surged. There she was. Deep down, a part of him was overjoyed that she had even returned at all. She locked the door behind her silently, kicked her shoes off. “Well?” Kakashi asked. She met his gaze blankly. “How was it?”

“It was fine” she replied, unbuttoning her shirt plainly as she stepped over Toshio and skirted into the living room. “Things went smoothly.”

She was far too calm. This was a bad sign. Either things went too smoothly or not smoothly at all. Kakashi wasn’t sure which he would have preferred. He watched her with laser focus as she knelt down on the floor by Toshio, slipping out of her blouse to reveal the simple white camisole underneath. He wanted to kiss the freckles on her shoulders and the scars on her forearms. The delicate lace trim was so enticing, perfectly accentuating her breasts. Kakashi frowned and wondered if Keihaku had the same thoughts. It was then that he knew there was no way things couldn’t have gone well. Dejected, Kakashi turned away to look out the window. He attempted to sound as nonchalant as possible when he asked, “So are you going to run off with Mr. Billionaire and move into his mansion with his fancy gold couch and tiny penis?” The depression in his voice, however, was far too obvious.

Knitting her brows together, Rei stared at him sharply. “You know I only have eyes for you” she insisted. “I wouldn’t want to spend my future with anyone else.” She finished unfastening the last button on her shirt and slithered out of it then, tossing it toward Kakashi from across the room. “Besides” she sighed rather dramatically, “Keihaku Goman is a total asshole, anyway.”

In retrospect, this was not the least bit surprising but the way she said it, the look on her face as she pouted and tilted her head toward the window, struck something within Kakashi. Something anxious but protective. “Why?” he asked, leaning forward. “What happened? What did he say to you?”

“It’s really nothing” Rei swatted at the air. “He just threw out some pretty petty and underhanded lines about he’s always liked ‘homegrown girls’ and shit.”

“Homegrown girls?” Kakashi repeated. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

Rei nodded, drawing her knees up to her chest like a small child. As cavalier as she appeared on the outside, he could tell in her eyes that something had cracked. “Yeah, you know, like local rough-and-tumble girls who live in the middle of nowhere and wrestle alligators and bake pies and shit. Anne and Scout and Jane, all that crap.” Kakashi blinked, trying to remember who, exactly, Anne and Scout and Jane were. Rei continued to speak before he could make the final connection. “Apparently Keihaku thinks that the ugly features like my scar and my crooked teeth and messy hair were ‘alluring’ in, and I quote, ‘a gross, kinky sort of way’.” Here, Rei made a face bordering both disgust and confusion. A casual acceptance of a harsh insult that deep down, she was clearly hurt by. And deep in the pit of Kakashi’s stomach grew a sharp, burning anger.

How could anyone ever say anything so cruel? And to his fiancée of all people? Kakashi sucked in a deep breath and clenched his fists at his sides. Nothing about the date itself or his prior uncertainty mattered anymore. All that was important now was that Keihaku Goman had hurt the love of his life and Kakashi could hardly contain himself. “The audacity…” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe he would say something like that.” Rei turned to him and saw the darkness in his eyes, the absolute fury. Her gaze softened, sympathetic and sad. She hated seeing him get so pent up like this. And then Kakashi stood, reaching for his shoes by the front door.

“W-wait, where are you going?” Rei asked, scrambling to her feet.

Kakashi sighed and shook his head. “Someone ought to teach that asshole a lesson.”

Rei rested a gentle hand on his forearm, shook her head. Anyone else likely would’ve been far too intimidated to approach the infamous Copy Ninja in this way, but not Rei. She didn’t care. She knew better than to believe he would ever hurt her. “It’s not worth it” Rei softly insisted. “We’re never going to see him again. It’s fine.”

“But Rei—” Kakashi protested, but she simply shook her head and guided him back to the couch. She sat beside him and rested a hand on his knee. They remained silent for a long while until Kakashi calmed down. When he had, he turned to her and asked quietly, “Are you okay?”

Nodding, Rei replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” There was a sense of restraint in her voice, however, as if she was holding back tears. Kakashi tried to keep his cool. Forcing a laugh, Rei then added, "Honestly, I’ve heard worse from Sekkachi. Keihaku’s words mean nothing to me. He doesn’t know anything about me, so who is he to judge?”

“Rei…” Kakashi murmured. His pain in seeing her not just upset but faking a smile was immeasurable. He reached out to caress her cheek, press his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and inhaled, drinking in every ounce of her presence. “He doesn’t know a damn thing” he whispered. “Rei, you’re the strongest and most amazing and intelligent and beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I just...I can’t fathom how anyone can be so…just…” He groaned in frustration, struggling to find the proper words.

“It’s okay” Rei assured him, studying his face and running her fingers through his hair. “I know.”

Kakashi grazed the scar across the bridge of her nose with his thumb, combed her hair back and chuckled lightly when his fingers got caught in the tangles. “I just can’t stand anyone hurting you” he finally whispered.

“I know” Rei whispered back, dripping with sympathy. “It’s fine, though. Really” she insisted. Kakashi opened his eyes and leaned back so as to better view her face. He searched her expression for the sadness he was sure he would find, but instead she now seemed at peace. She laughed softly as she added, “I think really, he’s just bitter because they recast his character in the next Makeout film.”

Kakashi blinked in disbelief, trying to digest this new information. “They did…?”

“Mmhmm” Rei replied, and now she was fighting a smile. Kakashi’s heart sang. She toyed with the hem of his shirt as she explained, “Apparently he was a total diva on set and was just an absolute nightmare to work with. I heard Yukie nearly quit on five separate occasions and insisted even she wasn’t this bad when she was a full-time actress. You can use that information however you will—I’m sure you’d know better than I would. But his attitude on top of the dick double debacle basically made for an absolute mess and they fired him two weeks ago right before filming began. I take it he’s milking whatever claim to fame he has left before the news breaks and everyone shifts their adoration to the new guy.”

Kakashi scoffed and nodded. “Good riddance” he sighed. This new information brought with it a welcome sense of relief, something Kakashi had been desperate for all week. “Did you at least humiliate him?” he then asked.

A sly, sickening smile then spread across Rei’s lips. “Maybe…” she said in sing-song. “Let’s just say that if all the swooning women didn’t know about his assets before, they do now.”

“You’re terrible” Kakashi shook his head. He only regretted not being there to see it himself.

“I bet that’s the last time he’ll ever try to mess with a ‘homegrown girl’” Rei replied. It was refreshing to see her use what was once an insult as a term of power and pride now. Keihaku Goman may not have seen the merit in a homegrown girl, but Kakashi certainly did. He wouldn’t have wanted her any other way.

Sighing, Kakashi leaned back against the couch, taking delight in Rei automatically snuggling up against his chest. When she laid beside him like this, everything just felt right. Her head nestled into the dip where his collar met his shoulder, her hand firmly monitoring his heartbeat. Toshio followed suit, leaping onto the open cushion to snuggle up beside them. “So you really wouldn’t leave me for some fancy film actor?” Kakashi asked, toying with Rei’s hair as he held her close.

Rei laughed and shook her head, looking up at him with a glimmer of ingenuity in her eyes. His heart swelled, he loved her so much. “And give up becoming Mrs. Hatake? Wife of the infamous Copy Ninja? I could never.” Toshio barked in stark agreement and Kakashi couldn’t contain himself any longer. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck so as to plant tiny little kisses all along her shoulder and collarbone. She squirmed with uproarious laughter, Toshio barking in amused spectatorship. It was moments like these, snapshots of the little life they had created together, that were all that truly mattered. The simple things. The things that money couldn’t buy. And that was enough. It was more than enough.

#rei natsuki #kakashi hatake #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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wordywarriorwrites · 5 years

Text

Chapter 17: Deliverance

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

Twelve Weeks Later…

Grand Bahama Island was nothing short of paradise.

Clear-blue waters and sandy shores. All-inclusive resorts, fantastic cuisine, and a population that consisted of friendly locals, old money, and the nouveau rich. Privacy, exclusivity, and luxury, all wrapped up in an idyllic package.

And now, Bucky owned a piece of it.

The deed was discovered inside an understated, navy-blue letter storage box. It had been found crushed at the very bottom of the heap of customary tributes and gifts Bucky received on his birthday. Banner, Sam, and Natasha had been helping him sort through everything and write thank-you notes for weeks, and they were finally in the home stretch.

Those lower on the totem pole gave cash or a nice bottle of booze. Others higher up on the food chain arranged to foot the bill for more extravagant things, like a tailor-made suit or a custom watch. People at the very top spared no expense, and usually gifted items like a trip to a destination of his choice or an imported car, but in this instance, someone had decided to give him a multi-million-dollar mansion just off the coast of Florida.

“It’s from Fury,” Banner declared. “Paperwork’s legit and the place is legally yours.”

Sam let out a low whistle, “That’s one hell of a birthday present.”

Natasha opened the final envelope from the pile and pulled out a stack of papers, “And here’s another.”

Bucky quickly scrawled a personalized message to Fury before he set his pen aside and accepted the file. The pages had little sticky-note flags that drew attention to each place that required a signature, and all corresponding lines had been properly dated, initialed, stamped, and notarized.

It had taken awhile, but Steve finally signed the documents, and had formally stepped aside.

“I hope you’re happy now,” Natasha muttered.

Bucky sighed and turned to Bruce, “Take this directly to Wanda, and tell her to transfer the money as discussed. Sam, go with him. I want you both back here and ready to leave in thirty minutes.”

Both men nodded and hopped to it, and once they were gone, Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the stink-eye. He pointedly ignored her huffiness, left the office, and went to double-check his luggage. He, Sam, and Bruce were due to fly out to Bermuda in three hours to set up shop, and after Bucky made sure he had everything he needed, he left his bedroom, and dropped the bag by the door.

“He’s gone,” Natasha snapped as she entered the living room. “Are you satisfied?”

“Don’t start,” he warned.

“Given enough time, you two could’ve taken the whole of New York. You could’ve been an unstoppable, untouchable powerhouse, and your influence at home and abroad would’ve been limitless.”

“He wanted his freedom,” Bucky bit out lowly. “And I granted it.”

She laughed and threw up her hands, “Well, if you won’t have him, others will. I know some guys here who’ve been chomping at the bit for years, and they just can’t wait to get their hands on him.”

Somewhere on the fringes of his brain, he heard Natasha point out that Steve was smoking hot, filthy fucking rich, and had that whole “wounded, bad-boy” thing going on – all of which his future bedmates would find exceedingly attractive. She also surmised Steve was bound to fall in love again eventually, and might even get married someday. Natasha then went on to say she hoped to be invited to the wedding, and that if Steve and his future husband ever adopted children, she would be the best auntie.

Bucky wasn’t entirely too sure how it happened. One minute, Natasha was prattling about baby clothes, in-home nannies, private schools, and how expensive college tuition was; the next, he had her by the throat, and slammed up against the wall. How the gun got in his hand was a mystery, and he didn’t know how the barrel ended up pressed to the center of her forehead, either.

All it took was one look into her triumph-filled eyes for Bucky to know she’d keyed him up on purpose. Natasha was the only person in his life he truly trusted and cared for, and Bucky had never raised a hand to her before, but his violent overreaction was proof he’d let his emotions overrule his reason yet again.

Bucky immediately released her and lowered the gun, “Nat… Shit, I didn’t…”

“An unacknowledged weakness is a dangerous thing,” she wheezed.

He cleared his throat and took a step back, “I just… I need you to leave it alone, alright?”

Natasha closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, “What you need to do is nut up, go to Steve, and beg for his forgiveness. You know he belongs here with you, so, stop fighting it.”

The long stretch of heavily-weighted silence was broken by the return of Sam and Bruce. Both men had been laughing and chatting excitedly about the upcoming trip, but when they saw the cannon in Bucky’s hand and the abrasions around Natasha’s throat, they fell silent.

“Everything cool?” Sam wondered.

Natasha coughed and waved him off, but it wasn’t until Bucky holstered his weapon that the tension dissipated. While Banner examined Natasha, Sam approached him, and asked if he was all good.

Bucky nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, “Just a misunderstanding. Won’t happen again.”

A few moments later, a text announced the arrival of their car, and as it was Sam’s job to ensure it was actually their ride and not some sort of ambush, he shouldered his rucksack, and headed down first. After Bucky received the all clear, Bruce picked up his duffel, mumbled that travelling with the Boss was a pain in the ass, and followed suit.

Bucky gathered his bag and told Natasha he’d text when they landed. He’d been waiting in the hallway for the elevator for some time before the door to his penthouse opened, and she came out to join him.

“Can you forgive me?” he requested solemnly.

“Bring me back something pretty and I’ll consider it.”

“Just let me know what kind of jewels you want.”

Natasha said, “diamonds and rubies,” and on the heels of her quip, the elevator door parted. As they descended, she linked arms with him, placed her head on his shoulder, and confessed she didn’t want him to be alone. When he pithily told her that she’d end up with wrinkles if she didn’t stop worrying, she pinched his bicep hard, and called him an asshole.

Bucky grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “Stop busting my balls, alright? I’ll be fine.”

Whatever she may have said by way of response was cut off when the elevator signaled that they’d reached the ground floor. The driver was quick to stow his bags and open the door for him, but before he could get in the back seat, Natasha tugged his arm, and halted him.

“Just promise me,” she insisted. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

Bucky was saved from having to lie to her when Sam leaned out and yelled that they needed to get a move on. The last thing he heard before Natasha slammed the door in his face was, “Steve’s in Île Saint-Louis,” and her blurted declaration caught not only his attention, but Bruce’s as well.

“That’s not good,” Banner spluttered. “If Steve’s in Paris… Oh, that’s bad. Very bad…”

Sam glanced at him and made a motion with his hand for him to continue, “You want to fill me in?”

Bruce launched into what could only be described as an impassioned tirade that lasted for the entire drive to the airport and all the way through take off.

He informed that Mason Dubois, the only child and beloved son of multi-billionaire and former mob Boss, Luc Dubois, lived in Paris. They were direct descendants of Jules Bonnot, who founded the Bonnot Gang in France in the 1900’s. Luc had followed in his ancestor’s footsteps, but unlike Jules, he hadn’t been an anarchist, and he’d never been caught. Before his untimely death, Luc ran the biggest game in the country; when the father passed away, the son stepped in, and his political ties, fortune, and Bonnot lineage meant he had more money, status, and power than God himself.

It was common knowledge that the Hornec gang was the most active and notorious crew in Paris, and though Dubois received a cut of the profits, racketeering, drugs, and illegal slot machines weren’t his stock and trade. He and his associates were definitely upper-crust, white-collar criminals, and they were extremely well-funded and very well-connected.

Sam still couldn’t see what the problem was, which prompted Bruce to reveal that Mason Dubois was Wanda’s cousin by marriage. He’d been in town the night of Bucky’s party and Wanda had introduced him to Steve. They were both in the business, knew some of the same players, and had common interests. Mason was also considered one of the most eligible bachelors in France, and for all intents and purposes, Steve was single as well.

The not-so-subtle implications of Banner’s long-winded diatribe made Bucky close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. As soon as the plane landed and they got checked in to the resort, he retreated to his suite, and poured himself a more than liberal drink.

Bucky had done the impossible. He’d reclaimed Brooklyn; restored his people’s confidence in full; asserted complete control over the West Indies; and had come back from what could’ve been a very costly and fatal mistake. He should’ve been glad his long-term plan had succeeded, but he wasn’t, and the more he examined the reasons for his uneasiness, the more uncomfortable he became.

Steve’s acquiesce to the terms and subsequent departure to Paris meant he’d decided to free himself from the last vestiges of their strained, complicated relationship. He was no longer under any obligation to Bucky or the Families, which meant all bets were off. Wanda could play match-maker all she liked, and as a free-agent, Steve could conduct business -- and climb into bed -- with whomever he wished to.

And there was nothing Bucky could do about it.

His former best-friend, past partner-in-crime, and soon-to-be-lost love of his life was in danger of being taken off the market in more ways than one, and Bucky knew Natasha’s parting words had been a last-ditch effort to make him come to terms with it. She wanted him to not only admit his feelings, but also face the consequences of his actions, and repair the damage.

If Bucky had been honest – if he’d, just once, put Steve first – maybe things could’ve been different. If he hadn’t pulled him back in; hadn’t lifted him up just to screw him over; hadn’t betrayed him and rejected him and broken his heart so many fucking times…

The sound of his phone going off prodded him out of his thoughts; he’d forgotten to text Natasha, which explained why she’d reached out first, but before he could type a reply, another message came through.

The words, “Let me handle Bermuda,” appeared, along with a URL that redirected Bucky the website of his preferred airline. According to the departure schedule, if he booked the ticket immediately, and hauled ass to the airport, he could be in France just after sunrise. Natasha followed up again mere seconds later with, “You go get him and bring him home.”

Bucky scraped a hand over his face, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his fucking throat, he penciled himself into first class, checked in before he could change his mind, and called down to the lobby for a car.

Though the prospect of an uncertain outcome terrified him, Bucky was going to Paris, and in twelve hours, he’d know for sure whether or not his change of heart was just in time, or far too little, and much too late.

Chapter 18: On Va Voir

Everything: @jennmurawski13 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard @lilliannaansalla

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