Satin Pillows To Cry On
CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior
gn! reader
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You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on.
‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.”
Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year.
Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing.
“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”
The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again.
“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!”
Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree.
You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal.
He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way.
And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?
And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you.
“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you.
That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him.
No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?
“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”
He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?
“All right..” You acquiesced.
And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him?
But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.
“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.”
That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry.
A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good.
Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.
“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”
He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked.
Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.
You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with.
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Camp Wiegman-Part 77
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Saturday, April 2; 1:50 PM - Downtown.
Time is passing. Only one week remains before the holidays. I'm eager to get there. Lucy and I have agreed that I will give my all during these last weeks so that I can relax afterward. It's tough. I'm barely with my friends at school anymore, but I want to be ready for the big day. They know and understand that. Another thing that's hard is that Lucy doesn’t show me any affection at school. Ever since Wiegman found out, she's been very cautious. Sometimes she hugs me in the evening or gives me a kiss or two, but that's it. So, I'm glad it's the weekend. At least now, she doesn't hold back.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asks me.
"Of course," I chuckle. "It's not the first time I've been here."
Today is the second Saturday I'm going to work with Grace at the gallery. She wants to make sure we can work together and that we both enjoy it. Personally, I loved being here last week. It didn't feel like work. Grace has a much more modern style, thanks to street art. Mine is still very classical, so I understand why she said she could teach me a lot. We complement each other in a way. She asked me to come back today, and she'll give me her decision tonight. By the end of the day, I'll know if my future has a chance in this field. I sincerely hope so. It's the only concrete offer I have. I know that if I get my degree, I can find work in administration, but let's just say that’s not what I want.
"True," Lucy replies. "Will you text me when you're done?"
"Like last time, yes. Say hi to everyone for me."
Lucy is going to meet up with her friends at the venue. They need to clear out the last few things before next week. I think they still have a lot to do. I regret not being with them. I enjoy lending a hand, but I have other responsibilities today.
"I won't forget," she says with a smile.
"And tell Ale I'm supporting her with all my strength for tonight."
Lucy laughs, nodding. Leah party is tonight. I sulked about it for a long time. I felt a little guilty for not being there since I haven't been spending much time with them, but I can always count on Lucy to lift my spirits.
"I'll tell her. Now go. You’re going to be late again."
"How about a little kiss first?"
She smiles and leans over to kiss me.
"Have a good day, my love," I say before getting out of the car.
I close the door and walk toward the gallery. I know Lucy won't leave until I’m inside. And that's exactly what happens. I enter the gallery, triggering the little bell hanging on the door. I take the time to close it, and only then do I see my girlfriend's car pulling away. I smile at that but quickly refocus.
"Ah, hey Ona," Grace greets me.
"Hey," I reply.
The first thing she asked me to do last week was to speak informally with her. I must admit it’s a relief. She's young, probably around Lucy’s age. At least I’m sure I won’t mess up. It also makes me feel more comfortable.
"How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
I smile and approach her for a cheek kiss. The gallery she owns is nothing like Mr. Fields'. It's smaller. Much smaller, but I love it. It's very cozy. It's dark, with occasional light accents here and there. I recognize her style from Nyko's paintball artwork.
"You came at the perfect time. I was trying to hang a painting, but it’s up high, and I couldn’t manage alone. Can you help me?"
"Yeah, of course. I’ll just drop my stuff in the back."
"Oops, sorry, poor you," she laughs. "I'm already piling on the work. Go ahead, I’ll wait."
"Oh no, don’t worry," I giggle.
"Meet me in the back."
I nod while taking off my jacket. The gallery is shaped like an "L." It's on a corner, which is lucky. This way, each piece displayed is lit by the large windows. Grace had the entire place renovated, and I must admit it’s brilliant. Passersby can see inside without having to come in. I go behind the counter to reach a back room. There’s about 20 square meters of space here, which serves as a workshop, storage, and even a dressing room. I hang my bag and jacket on the coat rack before joining Grace at the back of the gallery. Now I understand why she needed my help. She’s waiting for me at the top of a stepladder, with a huge canvas on the floor.
"Wow, it's beautiful," I comment.
The painting is a street art piece of the city of Seattle in multicolored hues. I can totally recognize Grace’s style in it. It’s truly stunning.
"Did you make it?" I ask, just to be sure.
"Yeah," she smiles. "I want it to be the centerpiece, but as you can see, it’s quite big."
"Yeah, I can see that," I chuckle. "Hold on, I’ll lift it for you."
No sooner said than done. I lift the painting so she can grab it where she’s standing. I hold it until she manages to hang it from the suspended ceiling using hooks. Unlike the rest of the room, the ceiling is made of white oak beams. It contrasts nicely with the anthracite walls.
"Phew, thanks."
She climbs down the stepladder, and we step back to see how it looks.
"Not bad, huh?"
"It looks great," I reply. "I think the painting’s just a little crooked."
"Yeah, I just noticed that," she giggles. "Can you stay below in case it slips?"
I nod, and we adjust it until it's perfectly straight. Meanwhile, several people have entered the gallery. Most are just curious, but I think some of the paintings catch their eye. Grace told me that most people come back later for a painting that caught their attention. I guess business isn’t doing too bad.
"Have you sold more paintings?" I ask, noticing some empty spots.
"Yeah," she says with a smile. "Can you help me replace them? Then we can get back to the painting you started last week."
"Sounds good to me."
"Not like you have a choice," she teases.
I laugh and shake my head. We head to the storage room to get the new paintings. I’m supposed to stay until closing, but I can tell we’re not going to be idle. That’s fine with me. I prefer this to sitting around doing nothing.
Saturday, April 2; 5:20 PM - Gallery.
"Well, I think it’s time to stop," Grace tells me.
I check the time. It’s almost 5:30. I’m surprised. The time flew by.
"Oh yeah. I’ll text Lucy so she can pick me up."
"Don’t you have your own car?" she asks.
"Not yet, but I think it’s coming soon."
"That would be better, indeed," she smiles.
I text Lucy to let her know I'm done, then I start putting away the tools I used and wash my brushes in the sink. I haven’t finished my painting yet, but I’m sure I’ll have another chance to work on it. Grace’s advice has been really helpful. She has a completely different method than mine, but I appreciate her feedback. Once I’m done, I return to the front where Grace is behind the counter. She managed to sell four paintings this afternoon—and not just any paintings. I think she’s doing pretty well for someone who just started out on her own.
"All done."
"Great," she says. "I promised I’d give you my answer about next year, so here it is," she says, handing me a form.
I pick it up to see what it is. A small smile forms as I realize it’s an application for the Seattle School of Art.
- Does this mean…?
- These two half-days with you were cool. You’re nice, you know how to do good work, and you’ve got talent. That’s all I was asking for.
- Wow, I say, not knowing what else to say.
- I was able to enter one of your pieces into the school's last enrollment competition thanks to my contacts, and you’ve been selected, she tells me.
I’m having trouble understanding. She entered me into a competition without me knowing?
- You…
- Sorry for not asking your permission, but I didn’t have a choice, she giggles, seeing the look on my face.
- It’s no problem.
- You’ve still got a lot of work to improve, Ona, but you really impressed them, so… she shrugs. Welcome, I guess.
Unable to hold back, I hug her. It’s really the least I can do. She just saved my entire future.
- Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I’m so relieved. A huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders. She giggles at my reaction, but she doesn’t realize what she’s giving me. I’m finally going to be able to live my dream. Just six months ago, I thought this was impossible. All my life, I’ve been told I couldn’t make a living from this, and yet here it is, happening. It feels like a dream. I release my new boss when I hear the doorbell chime. I smile when I see Lucy walk in.
- Well, it seems like there’s good news here.
- Oh yes! I exclaim, handing her the application form.
Lucy looks at it for a moment, then glances between us with a smile forming on her lips.
- Ah, yes, I see now. That’s really amazing. Thank you so much, Grace. Ona can finally relax a bit.
- Oh, it was my pleasure, Grace replies with a small laugh.
I go to Lucy and slip into her arms. She kisses the top of my head while still holding the form.
- Do we need to send this to the school? she asks.
- Uh, it’s better if you bring it back to me. I need to return it as soon as possible to my contact at the school.
- Alright. Well, do you have a little time? We can fill it out now.
- Oh, that would be great, yeah. I’ll get you a pen.
As soon as she leaves for the back, I let out a little squeal of joy. Lucy laughs, holding me tighter.
- Can you believe it!?
- Yes, yes, she giggles. This is really amazing, babe. I’m proud of you.
She kisses me softly. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I can’t believe all of this is happening so fast. Just a few weeks ago, I imagined myself sorting papers at a desk.
- You know what you have to do now, she whispers to me. You absolutely have to pass your exam.
- I’m working on it. I think I’m doing pretty well.
- Yes, that’s true, she smiles. Who would’ve thought you’d get serious one day…
I stick my tongue out at her teasing. Grace comes back with a pen, and Lucy helps me fill out my part. I realize I don’t even know her address, and it’s about to become mine soon. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to move in with her and call it my home too. I already feel at home there, but it’ll be more official. We’ll be there every day, together. Just thinking about it makes me feel strange. The form is easy to fill out. I double-check that I haven’t forgotten anything before copying the information onto the other two forms. I sign them and hand them to my new boss, who smiles mischievously.
- Well, you’ve just signed your death warrant. You’re under my command now, she jokes.
- Oh, there are worse things… I hope, I giggle.
- You’ll have time to form your opinion, Lucy comments. Well, shall we head out now?
- Great idea. I’m heading home as well. My boyfriend is taking me out to dinner tonight.
- Lucky you, I say with a smile. Well then…
I don’t finish my sentence. I’m not really sure what to say. Now that I’ve signed the papers, what’s next? Grace seems to understand my dilemma, as she says:
- I’ll contact you for the next steps. I’ll give you the details of when you start working here and when your classes start too. You’ll probably need to come back to sign a contract.
- No problem. I’m close by, after all.
- Great. Well, have a good evening then.
- Have a good evening too.
I head to the back to grab my things and return to Lucy. We say goodbye to my new boss one last time before heading out. I feel like a ball of energy. Everything is falling into place now that I’ve signed that form.
- What are we doing tonight?
- Well, I may have reserved a table too…
- Really?
I turn to her sharply. She smiles, amused by my reaction.
- Yep. I thought it would be nice to celebrate the good news.
- Oh yeah? And how did you know, huh? I just found out myself.
I smile as she presses me gently against the car when we reach it. Her hands rest softly on my hips. I relax as her lips tease mine.
- You should know I never doubt you…
- Why are you so perfect? I murmur, wrapping my arms around her neck.
- I’m not.
- Yes, you are, at least with me.
- Well, that’s because you make me that way. Because I love you.
I groan and lean in to kiss her, but she pulls back, keeping me just out of reach. I pout. I don’t like it when she denies me a kiss.
- Don’t make that face, she smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I wanted to apologize, because I’m not as perfect as you think. I’m denying you a night with your friends tonight.
I step back at those words. I can see a hint of sadness in her eyes. It’s partly my fault. I guess I made my disappointment a little too clear about it. I smile, caressing her cheek.
- The most important thing is that I’m spending the evening with you, my love.
- Really…? Because—
- You’re the most important person to me. I know you’re anxious about meeting them.
- What—
- Don’t take me for a fool, I interrupt her with an amused tone. I know you hide your fear behind the idea that we have to be discreet at school. But we both know you’re just scared of meeting them as my girlfriend.
Lucy opens her mouth, then closes it. I love when I can leave her speechless. It’s so rare. She sighs, shaking her head, and tries to pull away, but I hold her close. Our chests are pressed together. I can feel her heart beating a little too fast. She doesn’t like being caught off guard, and I get it. I feel the same way when she surprises me.
- You’re right, she whispers. I’m sorry.
- Don’t be. I totally understand. It must not be easy to meet your students as my friends.
- No, not really. I tend to know what everyone thinks of me at school.
She’s not wrong. Even now, everyone asks me how I can spend so much time with Lucy. They can’t see her as the woman standing in front of me right now, and it’s such a shame. I slide my hand under her hair, gently stroking her neck. My touch seems to calm her down.
That’s true, I murmur. But they don’t know my girlfriend. I know it must be scary for you, but it’s important to me. I want people to meet my girlfriend. I want to show you off. To say that you’re mine, like you do.
- Like me, huh?
- Oh yes. Do I need to remind you of the number of hickeys you've given me? You love to claim that I belong to you.
- Yeah, that's true... There's still a bit of me missing on you, though.
I giggle as her lips brush against my neck.
- No, Lucia! I replied, gently pushing her away.
- What, you don't like my marks? she teased.
- Stop it. That'll be the first thing they tease you about.
- Really? I bet they'll mock my commander nickname instead.
- You want to play that game? Alright, let's make a bet then.
- A bet, huh? OK. If I'm right, I get to do whatever I want with you for a whole evening, and vice versa if you're right.
- Hmm... OK, I'm in.
- Good, she said, pecking my lips. Now let's go. We'll be late for my program otherwise.
- Your program, huh? What do you have planned for me this time?
- A romantic evening, she announced as she walked around the car. I had to make up for the event we're not attending tonight.
- You didn't have to, but I like it. I enjoy going out with you.
- Don’t expect anything crazy. We're just going to have dinner, and I thought we could go to the movies afterward, she said once seated behind the wheel.
- I particularly like that plan, I said while fastening my seatbelt.
- Perfect, then.
We exchanged a smile before she drove off. She took me to a restaurant I didn't know, one fancier than the places we usually go to.
- It's a French restaurant, she whispered as a waiter guided us to our table.
- Really? I asked with a small smile. What gave you the idea?
- Nowhere, I just enjoy coming here.
Lucy had everything planned. She really booked a table, and we were lucky enough to get one on the restaurant's veranda. I wondered how long ago she made the reservation.
- Thank you, she said to the waiter.
- You're welcome. Here are the menus. I'll be back to check on you later.
- Thanks, I added as he left.
I looked around. It was particularly beautiful here, and we were lucky that the sky was clear.
- It's beautiful, I whispered while staring at the starry sky.
- I booked last week... when Grace told me she'd be watching you.
I lowered my eyes, mouth slightly agape.
- Y-you knew?
- Well... yeah, she replied mischievously. She just wanted to keep you waiting a bit longer, so you'd keep giving your best today.
She laughed while I sulked. She knew before I did. But how could I hold it against her when I saw where we were now?
- You're lucky I enjoy surprises.
She laughed and intertwined our fingers. I brought them to my lips for a kiss. This moment of relaxation felt particularly good. I felt exhausted from giving so much, but now that I knew where I was headed next year, I was even more motivated to ace my final exam, which was fast approaching. I’d already had a preview with my recent tests, and I hadn’t done too badly. Next week, we have mock exams. I'm looking forward to them because at least I’ll know exactly where I stand before the real ones.
- What are you thinking about?
- A lot of things, I answered with a small smile. How will things go from here?
- Well, as planned. You’ll take your mock exams, then we’ll go on vacation.
- I can't wait, I giggled. I’m so done with all this.
- I bet, but it'll be fine, she reassured me.
- And after that?
- After that? she asked, tilting her head.
- Well, after... after school...
We were interrupted by the waiter who came to take our drink orders. I trusted Lucy and chose the same as her, a non-alcoholic cocktail. We waited for him to leave before I turned back to Lucy. She shrugged.
- After school... well, we’ll go to Barcelona, and then we'll come back here.
- To live at your place, I murmured.
The idea seemed so surreal. Yet, it was what was going to happen in just a few weeks. After all this time.
- Have you changed your mind?
I snapped out of my thoughts at her question. I could see a hint of concern in her eyes.
- What? No, no! I was just thinking... maybe we could make things more official...?
- What do you mean?
- It might be too soon but... I’d like, I don’t know... to co-own the apartment? We’re going to live together, so I want to contribute to the expenses.
Lucy nodded before sinking into her chair, crossing her arms.
- That’s indeed a big step, becoming a co-owner.
- I don’t want us to move. The apartment is great, but... I want to invest in it, you know?
- I wouldn’t do that if I were you.
I opened my mouth, but I closed it when Lucy raised her hand to stop me from arguing.
- I trust us, I know how you feel, but you never know what could happen. There could be complications between us, and I wouldn’t want the apartment to become another relationship issue to deal with.
- I’m not planning on leaving you, I said, pouting.
Lucy laughed and leaned toward me. She grabbed both my hands, pulling them under her chin.
- I know, love, but it’s too soon. Tomorrow, we’ll celebrate two months together. I know we both feel like we’ve been together longer, but it’s only been two months.
- That’s true, I muttered.
- How about we see how living together full-time goes? I don’t think there will be any problems, but it’ll be a big difference from just weekends.
I nodded, feeling a little sulky. I didn’t like how right she was. After all, we were just at the beginning of our relationship, but I craved more. I needed more, I think, but I didn’t dare say it.
- Hey, she murmured.
She lifted my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. I hated facing her gaze. It made me feel so vulnerable. There was a determination in her eyes that sometimes made me wonder how she got to where she was.
- Don’t make that face. We have all the time in the world now, okay? There’s no need to rush. That’s how we’ll crash into a wall.
- Yeah... I mumbled.
I hated that she was right. The last time I rushed, it ended badly. I wanted to do things right, but at the same time, I wanted to speed things up. The waiter returned to bring our drinks and take our order. Since I hadn’t really paid attention to the menu, I agreed to Lucy’s suggestion that we share a dish—cheese platter, actually. She sold me on the idea, saying it was really good, so I accepted. As the waiter left, I still felt uneasy, but Lucy remained unfazed.
- Honey, one day, I’m going to make you my wife. We’ll buy a big house together, and maybe even have kids. I want all of that just as much as you do. Don’t think otherwise.
- I know, Lucia...
I blushed slightly at her words. If she wanted them to affect me, well, it was working. Wife and kids were big words, perfectly expressing our future together.
- So be patient. First and foremost, we need to learn how to live together and build a stable future. It all starts with a good job. Neither of us knows what our work experience will lead to, and it’s good to focus on that before jumping into anything else. Don’t you agree?
I sighed but nodded.
- Yeah, fine, you win.
She chuckled softly.
- Come on, give me a kiss.
I leaned in to give her what she wanted. I could never deny her that.
- Can we enjoy the evening now?
- Yes.
Our cheese platter finally arrived, and I had to admit it was a good choice. Lucy really knew what was good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.
- I wonder how things are going with Alexia, I mused as we started eating.
- No idea, my girlfriend giggled. But she wasn’t feeling well this afternoon. I had to comfort her.
- You, comforting her? Now I’ve seen everything.
- Well, yeah. I like her, surprisingly.
- That’s good news then, I teased. At least one of my friends you like.
- Oh, stop it, she rolled her eyes. I like Mapi too.
- That wasn’t the case in the beginning.
- We were both jealous, but I think she’s starting to understand where her place is with me.
- Yeah, I think you're right.
I sipped my drink, reflecting on the conversation we had a few weeks ago. Mapi had defended Lucy regarding what she didn’t yet know about Feli. I think she has indeed figured out her place with Lucy, even if she struggled to admit it. After all, she was my only close friend before I came here.
- Thinking about something in particular? Lucy asked, noticing I was lost in thought.
- No, I said, blushing. Just that you're right. She defended you not too long ago.
- Really? About what?
I shrugged. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.
- Something unimportant...
I know I’m a terrible liar, but I didn’t want to ruin our night with negative thoughts. Lucy stayed silent for a moment but eventually nodded.
- Okay, she whispered. You know you can tell me anything, right?
- Of course, I said with a small smile. But it’s nothing important. I just wanted you to know that she defended you, and I was the first one surprised.
- Alright... well, I guess things are changing.
We shared a smile. I knew she realized I wasn’t telling her everything, but I appreciated that she didn’t push. The evening continued without any more unsettling topics.
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(Realized I was never gonna finish this long ass 9-1-1 fic before the premiere, so today I’m doing the seriously condensed version for Tumblr—which I still have to break into two parts, ffs.)
It’s Thursday afternoon, three days before Father’s Day, and the atmosphere at the 118 is grim. Gerrard is gone, at least, and everyone celebrated with cake—specifically, a Ding Dong, The Witch is Dead! cake, complete with a chocolate house crushing little black boots—but to everyone’s surprise, Buck isn’t exactly welcoming Bobby home with open arms anymore. He hasn’t forgiven Bobby for resigning in the first place. Making matters worse, Margaret and Philip Buckley are flying in for the weekend. Also, Eddie is depressed because Chris hasn’t called since he left for Texas six weeks ago, and Eddie doesn’t expect to hear from him on Sunday, or possibly ever again.
Hen tells Eddie Christopher will forgive him. “He’ll come home. He just needs a minute.” Eddie says that six weeks is a hell of a minute, but Hen persists. “You’re a good father,” she says, ignoring Eddie’s humorless laugh. “You messed up; I’m not saying you didn’t. But that doesn’t negate all the good you’ve done, too. Kids, they want you to hear them. They want you to show up, so when Christopher calls, pick up the phone and listen. You two love each other, Eddie. It’s going to work out.”
But Eddie’s gaze just drifts to the kitchen, where Bobby is quietly looking at the stack of uneaten fire-engine-shaped mini-waffles that Buck refused to eat, even though he’s the one who bought Bobby that ridiculous novelty waffle-maker in the first place
“You ever think maybe love just isn’t enough,” Eddie says, and Hen isn’t sure how to answer that.
*
Meanwhile, Chimney, thankfully, has the day off and is drinking a beer with Tommy. (Hen, left to deal with these weird morose vibes at the 118 by herself, quite rightly considers this a betrayal and has appropriately sworn revenge.) Chimney and Tommy talk a little about their own families: Tommy hasn’t spoken to his dad in years; meanwhile, Chimney finally gave up months ago after actually telling his dad how he really felt about being abandoned. He just needed to hear his father apologize once, just once—but he couldn’t do that, not even that, and Chimney decided enough was enough.
Tommy, who’s only ever met the Buckley Parents one time (but has quickly clocked to Buck’s wildly shifting moods whenever discussing them), asks Chimney how much of a disaster this weekend is likely to be. Chimney tells Tommy that—apart from big family secrets and the general emotional trauma—every time the Buckleys visit, someone comes close to death: warehouse fire (Buck), lightning strike (Buck), viral encephalitis (Chimney).
“Maybe don’t go up in a helicopter till they’re gone?” Chimney suggests, and Tommy says, “Jesus,” and gets another beer.
*
Back at the 118, things have gone from bad to worse. A call leads to Buck recklessly risking his own life to save someone. He walks away with only a few bruises, but Bobby yells at him for nearly getting himself killed. Buck snarks that he must still be that young, impulsive hothead after all. Bobby, a bit at a loss, tells Buck that he has come a long way, but he can’t put himself in danger just because he’s angry at Bobby.
“What is this really about? You can talk to me, kid. I’m here.”
“Right,” Buck says, scornful. “You’re here. For ... how long again? Seven more, I think you said? No—no, you never actually said, did you? That one’s on me. Right, Cap?”
The bell goes off, ending the argument. Bobby tries to talk to Buck again after the shift, but Buck is already out the door. He barely gets any sleep that day before he and Tommy drive over for The Big Family Dinner. Tommy tries to talk Buck into staying home, suggesting they go tomorrow night instead, but Buck insists it will be a Thing if they don’t go.
Dinner goes badly. Margaret and Phillip aren’t intentionally rude or actively malicious, but there’s still a thread of casual biphobia in much of what they say: Evan’s always going through these phases. Well, if it’s not a phase, Evan, you must have known; how could you not? Please don’t misunderstand, Tommy, of course we like YOU. Very much! Yes, Tommy, thank you for your service. We’re just saying, Evan likes to throw us for a loop now and then. Really, Evan, you’ve had so many girlfriends you’re basically straight, aren’t you?
Buck finally loses it shortly after Maddie goes into the other room to check on Jee Yun. Margaret suggests that while she’s happy that Buck and Tommy are happy, of course—happy for now, at least—she’d just hoped Buck would’ve started to settle down by now, get serious about someone, rather than start experimenting. Phillip also jokes that he’d thought Buck had outgrown making bids for attention, and Buck just—snaps.
“Why did I have to work so hard to get your attention again? Right. Cause it was too hard to look at me. Cause I was the reminder of what you lost, the screwup you got left with. Maybe if Daniel had grown up and turned out bi, you’d—"
—and Margaret slaps Buck across the face.
It shocks everyone, very much including Margaret, but when Buck finally blinks and glances at his dad, Phillip automatically moves to stand behind his wife, silently taking her side. Buck, a bit dazed, mutters he’s sorry and tells Chimney not to tell Maddie what happened, right before Tommy all but pushes Buck out the door and drives him home.
Buck, still a little shellshocked, mostly can’t believe he said what he said, insists he shouldn’t have gotten that upset, and tries to brush off Tommy’s efforts to comfort him. Tries to get him to leave. Tries to distract him with sex when Tommy refuses to leave. Tommy, not having any of it, sits Buck down and talks a little about his own childhood, how he’d run away from home after his father had found out Tommy was gay, how—broken and bleeding—Tommy had never called, never looked back. Buck protests it’s not the same because Margaret and Philip aren’t abusive, have never hit him before tonight, aren’t really homophobic—at least, not in the same way—and also, Buck deserved that slap.
“Who throws a dead kid in their parents face?” Buck asks, miserable.
“Someone who lived under the shadow of a brother he never knew about for 30 years?” Tommy asks, then takes Buck’s hand and makes Buck look at him.
“Look, maybe it’s not the same. You’re never going to convince me you deserved it, Evan, not any of it—but what I’m saying is, when people repeatedly hurt you? You don’t have to look back. You don’t have to keep trying. You can, if that’s what you want—but you don’t have to forgive anyone just because they’re family. That’s not what being a family should be. And, for what it’s worth, that includes Bobby, too. Just ... maybe consider what you’re actually angry about—or if it’s even anger you’re really feeling here—before deciding to cut him off for good.”
Slowly, Buck sinks into Tommy’s side. Tommy wraps an arm around him. Kisses him gently just above birthmark.
(Part II is finished, coming tomorrow or the next day)
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still home to me - nick blankenburg
series: need a little company
summary: nick finds out where he's spending the 24-25 season. sort of.
word count: 1.5k
It was the 1st of July. For most, it was just another day in the way of the 4th of July. For anybody involved or interested in the NHL it was the start of Free Agency—or the day a good percentage of the league learnt of their new homes. Officially learnt of them, anyway.
Morgan had been waiting for the answer for a week. Agents weren’t supposed to have been talking to General Managers before midnight, but it was an open secret that deals were all but put to paper before the day came. At least that was true for the bigger players who had multiple teams interested. Nick was staring down one team who had expressed interest in signing him, and Morgan was sure that contract was being signed when Nick answered his phone and darted into the bedroom of the cottage they were leasing for the summer.
The water of Anchor Bay was calm, undisturbed by any winds or boats, and Morgan stared across it, only taking her eyes off it when she heard the door open behind her. She swung her legs over the side of the recliner so that she was facing Nick.
“So…” Morgan trailed off, tracking him as he moved further onto the deck. “Nashville?”
The smile on his face was unshakeable when he said, “Yeah, two-way in the first year.”
“And you said their AHL team was in Wisconsin?”
“Yeah. Milwaukee.” A beat followed. Nick’s face faltered. “You’re not happy.”
“No,” Morgan sighed sadly, standing up. “I’m sorry; I’m so, so happy for you.” She smiled at him, genuine and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am happy, and I am proud and I’m just being selfish. I didn’t mean to ruin it for you. I know you’ve been worried.”
“I’m still worried,” he said, his hands remaining by his sides. Morgan pulled back to see his eyebrows pulled together as he said, “I thought you were happy with Nashville.”
“I am happy that you’re happy with Nashville,” she clarified. “I just… The more I think about it, the less I think I want to be in Nashville alone if you get sent to Milwaukee.”
“I might spend most of the season in Milwaukee, you can stay there?”
Morgan sighed and she stepped backwards to put some distance between herself and Nick. She sat back down on the recliner, her shoulders slumped, and she avoided all eye contact with him as the frustration from the uncertainty bubbled out of her.
“Do I want to be there by myself if you get called up?” she asked her toes. “When you were in Cleveland it was doable because I was happy to drive up on Friday after work and go home on Sunday night—and you could visit during the week. But, like, flights between Milwaukee and Nashville aren’t going to be that easy and I don’t have anything in either of those cities. I don’t particularly care about answering phones, and I don’t think I’m saving the world, but I at least I was keeping busy while you were gone.”
Nick’s feet appeared in her vision, his hand gently pressing down on her shoulder and his thumb brushing over the hinge of her jaw.
“You can stay in Columbus, Mo,” he assured her. She could hear the struggle in his voice and picture it on his face without even looking at him. “If that’s what you really want, I can fly you wherever every weekend.”
“Well, no…” she sighed. “That sounds way worse than being with you sometimes. I fucking hate Columbus.”
“Then I don’t know what you want me to do, Mo. I can’t change Nashville’s AHL team, and I can’t accept offers from teams that haven’t made one.”
Morgan’s chest ached and she finally lifted her head. The struggle on his face was exactly what she’d imagined, and it only made her heart ache more. She grabbed the hand that was on her shoulder and held it to her mouth, kissing it gently before pressing it to her chest.
“I… Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve made this all about me. This is a huge day for you and I’m being a cry-baby.” She stood without warning, startling Nick into taking a couple steps back. “We should go tell your parents, and then get ice cream on the way home, and tonight I’ll blow you on the boat.”
She walked past him, tugging on his hand to get him to follow. He didn’t move an inch. Morgan pouted, her shoulders falling dramatically as she waited him out.
He didn’t sound any more enthused than he looked when he said, “We have to talk about it.”
“We will,” she assured him, closing the space between them and leaning in to press a tender kiss to his cheek. “We have the whole summer to talk about it. Right now, we need to go tell some people.”
Nick agreed, though he still wasn’t as excited as he had been when he first found her on the porch. They moved through the house, Morgan picking up the car keys as they passed her bag in the kitchen; Nick held his hand out for them when they reached the car, but Morgan kept them curled up in her palm.
“I love you.”
Nick didn’t hesitate to say back, “I love you, too, Mo.”
Nick’s parents were, perhaps predictably, much more excited by the news the moment they first heard it. There was no hiding their excitement, Karen immediately gushing over her son and Karl being unbelievably proud. The immediate dual FaceTime calls to his siblings only added to the excitement, and Morgan couldn’t deny that their excitement had eased her own nerves. Though the thoughts of her future never strayed too far from her mind.
They made it back to their summer home after the hearty meal Karen prepared for the entire family, so full that they both moved sluggishly. The late evening weather was perfect for a trip out on the boat, and there was no conversation needed between them—both just making their way to the dock as soon as they were out of the car.
Nick was in charge of getting the boat into the middle of the lake—a good distance away from the one other boat that had decided to go out under the moon that night—and Morgan laid herself out on the floor of the boat, her legs crossed at the ankles and her gaze firmly on the stars above her.
With the anchor dropped, Nick joined Morgan, their arms pressed skin-to-skin from shoulder to fingertip.
“I have another option for what you can do during the season.”
Morgan barely tilted her head; it was just enough to see him in her peripheral vision before she returned to finding consolations. She laced their fingers together and said, her voice barely audible over the waves brushing up against the side of the boat, “We don’t need to talk about it tonight, Nick.”
Nick hummed, but Morgan knew that it wasn’t in agreement and that it was only a matter of time before he continued with what he was going to say, so she squeezed his hand to let him know that he could continue.
“You can stay with my parents.”
It floated through Morgan’s brain for a moment, six words that felt unbelievably loaded. She clarified, to buy more time, “Here? In Michigan?”
“Yeah,” he said as he shuffled onto his side. His refusal to let go of Morgan’s hand meant she was drawn closer, and their faces were only inches apart. His mouth was tilted up at the ends. “I mean, it doesn’t change that you’ll have to fly out and see me, but you won’t be alone most of the season. I’ll fly you out when we have decent homestands or whenever you want. For a night, I don’t care. And if you need something to do, the business could always use an extra pair of hands—or my mum could use an extra set of eyes on the paperwork.”
With her heart beginning to beat just a little bit faster, Morgan inhaled a steadying breath before she rolled over to face him. “Nick… Your parents don’t want me around all the time. Especially when you’re not.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it,” he said, his smile growing wider. He took the opportunity of her getting comfortably to poke at the bottom of her ribs, eliciting a high-pitched laugh that cut through the quiet night. “It was my dad’s idea, and he already suggested it when it was clear I was going to be spending more time in Cleveland than Columbus because he didn’t like the idea of you living alone with nobody nearby.”
Morgan shuffled across the boat’s deck, trapping their entwined hands between their bodies as she wrapped her other one over Nick and pulled him in tight.
“I just want to be with you. That’s all. The second it looks like we know where you’re playing most of the season I will be there. It just… I let my weird little ego get the best of me in college and missed four years that I could have spent almost every day with you.”
“Four years? We were at school at the same time for two years.”
“I would have stayed in Michigan. You’re my home.”
please let me know what you thought about this <3
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So like…. could Marc actually win this?
Short Answer: I mean…… yeahhhhhh????
Long Answer: *incomprehensible screaming* …… and in this essay I will-
Because I genuinely don’t know what to think of Marc’s mindset rn. The whole gresini team + Marc seem hesitant to announce the championship challenge.
When Frankie did the interview post Misano 1 w TNT sports he identified their weakness as Friday, which is true. Winning the title means he needs to sort out his fucking qualifying. The tracks where he’s falling behind, he pushes more to find the limit and make the difference, but the other side of that line is him binning it and sending him down the grid. He has the speed to be on the front row pretty much every track now, even the ones where the gp24s are in a championship of their own. He can’t keep recovering from several places back every weekend, only to get up to the podium by half way through the race, at which point Pecco and Jorge have fucked off into the distance. He needs to be up there terrorising them.
However, the amount of tracks left that DO favour Marc are significant.
To start with, the counter clockwise circuits. Phillip Island and Valencia. We could very well see a performance there like we saw at Aragon and what was hinted at in Germany (Sachsenring 2024 what could’ve been, always in our hearts). I wouldn’t say we can guarantee wins, I’m aware of how powerful jinxes are, and Aragon did have an abysmal lack of grip, but they’re tracks where his performance is expected to be the best. We can’t necessarily say the same for the rest of the tracks, but what we can say about them is that they’re a complete fucking lottery.
Thailand, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, Australia = anything could fucking happen. It’s no doubt that if it were actively raining (could be likely) Marc would come out on top, as we’d seen in misano 1. But what we also learnt from that race is that Marc only really needs a slightly damp track to beat the pace of the gp24s. He got up to the front because it started pissing down for half a lap yeah, but if he sorts out qualifying, he’d be up at the front in the first place, and a damp track would then allow him to keep up and extend a potential lead. More than that, you’ll see more riders coming through on an even playing field to take points out of Martin and Pecco. Exactly like Aragon. The Asian leg, in the past, has always been a bit of a gamble, and that’s where Marc will thrive.
Realistically, Valencia being the final race means that if Marc came in to that final round near equal on points, he could win the title. It would require a perfect weekend from him, Valencia being dusty plus counter clockwise would be good for that, like Aragon.
In order to be close enough going into it though he’d definitely have to be on the podium every round from here on out. Probably more 2nd’s than 3rds so that he’s scoring more than either Jorge or Pecco. Aswell as a handful more wins.
He’d also have to bargain on Jorge and Pecco fighting amongst themselves, taking points off each other. And the both of them having a few more dnfs/bottles like Pecco in Barcelona/Aragon (Peccos horrific starts not his crash w Alex) or Jorge in Sachsenring/Misano 1.
Another factor I haven’t seen people talk about, THE BEAST. For one, he is not far behind Marc, which could be a threat to him, of course. But if we imagine a situation like silverstone happening at more circuits where the gp24 could hold a massive advantage, that’s taking significant points off Pecco and Jorge, drawing the entire fight closer together. To then alternate to tracks where the playing field is more even, then we have Marc coming out on top, and Enea realistically falling behind so he can’t really make an advantage stick (like how we’re seeing him drop away again despite his dominant silverstone performance)
But I’m gonna be real….. I know I’ve just written multiple paragraphs about how Marc could win this, I don’t actually think Marc is trying to win the championship. I think he could, I honestly really, really do. I think if he had something to prove, we’d be having a completely different conversation. But in my mind, he’s already proven himself. We all know that next year, Marc is going to be alongside Pecco. There are less ducatis on the grid, and a lot of the riders on the remaining bikes, have never been Ducati riders before. If we can count on Ducati taking another massive step forward in development (fuck even any step at all at this rate) it’s clear that this is going to be a Pecco v Marc showdown. He’s staked his claim in that.
Marc doesn’t need the 2024 title. He’s saying he’s spending the rest of the year figuring out the bike in combination with his riding style. He’s doing this because he’s achieved all his goals already, get on the podium, win a race, get that seat, enjoy racing again. Tick, tick, tick, tick. He’s done, he’s checked out. He’s being realistic about his performance. As he was saying about the sprint yesterday, “If we start 7th, I finish 4th. If I start 1st I finish 4th.” And you can see the fucking BALL of a time Marc is having at Gresini, (oh my god what an incredible team I might write a whole post on my thoughts on them later). He’s enjoying racing again, and he’s relishing in that feeling coming back. I’m sure Marc is honestly satisfied in sitting back and having fun in a low pressure environment before he moves to Ducati Corse and locks the fuck in.
HOWEVER, he also has absolutely nothing to lose. For someone like Jorge who’s going to a less competitive team next year, or Pecco who’s gonna have an 8 times world champion in the box, they both are conscious of the fact this could really be their last chance at a title. Marc could come 4th, 3rd, 2nd or 1st this year and it means literally nothing because next year is where the real fight is.
In Misano 1 Marc took the risk during the rain to get up to p1 because he could afford to crash, and Pecco couldn’t. Which got him the win. If he’s planning on riding like that for the rest of the season he really could win it. But need I remind you, Pecco didn’t fight him because he wasnt Jorge Martin. Maybe Marc and the team are trying to put out the fires the media are lighting and they don’t want to draw attention to the fact that Marc very well could win this. If his strategy in those situations is fuck around now, find out later, in which the “finding out” is “win or we crash”. He’d be bargaining on Martin and Bagnaia disregarding him as a real contender. His best bet is laying low and striking when they don’t expect him too.
Am I seeing mind games where there aren’t any? Maybe. Is this delusional hope? Of course! And I also don’t think it’s something that Marc is gunning for. Like I genuinely believe the title is only gonna happen if it… falls into his hands, you know? It relies so much on luck. Getting race conditions he prefers, Pecco and Jorge bottling. Enea preforming only when it’s convenient. Not Crashing In Quali For Fucks Sake Marc. And I think Marc knows that too. This title is something that’s almost completely out of his control. He doesn’t have the bike to simply be the better rider, the only thing he can do is maximise the chances he gets in the next few rounds. If he wins or loses this, it’s not because of his skills as a rider, it’s because he was dealt the hand he needed.
But if this happens, if he is dealt this hand and he rounds the final turn of the final lap in Valencia in P1, his ninth championship secured, if I can allow us all to dream scandalously for a second, this season will go down in fucking history. In a career of incredible championship fights, controversies and highs and lows, nothing will beat whatever happens in the coming months…..
…
cut to marc in the gravel in a few hours time
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