#i am not good at decorating. but the pubs almost done | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaskierswolf · 3 years

Note

Dearest Wolfie, I am here to humbly request some Jaskilion vampire smut pls 🥺

Dear Buttercup

Prompt: Frottage/grinding/scissoring Relationships: Jaskier (netflix)/Dandelion (book) Rating: E Content Warnings: vampire sex, sex magic, frottage, biting, blood drinking. Summary: Jaskier gets caught in a thunderstorm, luckily there's an appropriately spooky house near by to shelter in.

For my darling @dani-dandelino and also my last prompt for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Art by @dapandapod

Lightning shot across the sky in a vicious streak of blinding light, and there was a resounding clap of thunder that made the ground shake. Jaskier’s hair was stuck to his forehead as he tried, with very little success, to shelter under his guitar case. He blamed Geralt for this entirely. The bastard had gotten into another fight with Yennefer and Jaskier was left to find his own way home from the pub. He wasn’t drunk, just mildly tipsy and sorely lacking a driving license. It had been too late to catch a bus so here he was stomping through the park in the middle of the night, during a fucking thunderstorm. The old house in the centre of the park looked like something out of those stupid horror movies that Geralt and Yennefer liked to watch. It looked haunted during the day, but at night… fuck. It was something else entirely.

So naturally, Jaskier wanted to have a look. He was soaked through to the skin and shivering. His house was still a good hour away if he didn’t get lost, which, if he was being completely honest, he probably would. Directions just weren’t his strong suit, and everything looked the same at night. The house, despite scaring the shit out of him, looked incredibly tempting. It would be warm. He could dry off. Maybe the owner would even let him stay the night, if they were kind.

And if he was really lucky, they might not kill him.

He laughed and he wiped his nose, pushing his sopping wet hair off his forehead and away from his eyes. His fringe immediately fell forward again.

“Oh fuck off,” he muttered and shook his head, wrapping his arms around his chest in a futile attempt to stay warm. “Stupid Geralt, stupid Yennefer, bloody fucking thunderstorm.”

The large wooden doors creaked open, startling Jaskier from his pity party. There was candlelight flickering in the hallway and the sound of a violin singing from somewhere in the house. Jaskier crept forward, cocking his head as he peered inside. The house was extravagantly decorated in burgundy and gold. From the porch, Jaskier could see a faded painting of a young man, dressed in old-timey clothing, regency if he had to guess. It was rather Mr Darcy. The young man was tall and slender, with a mess of golden curls that just about covered his ears. Jaskier couldn’t look away. The man was beautiful, with soft pale skin and rosy cheeks, a smile that could outshine the sun. He had a long dark blue tailcoat, and there was a small white dog bouncing at his feet.

But it was his eyes.

Beautiful cornflower blue.

Utterly stunning.

The door slammed shut behind Jaskier and he spun round, arms flailing, “Oh cock!”

The sound of the violin stopped. The house fell eerily silent. Jaskier could hear his own heartbeat hammering in his chest and he pulled at the edges of this shirt, flexing his fingers and tapping out a rhythm on his leg. Nothing helped. He was pretty certain he was about to die. The worst thing was he couldn’t even remember entering the house. One minute he was admiring the portrait from afar and the next he had his hand raised, ready to trace the sharp cheekbones of the handsome blond.

“I haven’t had a visitor for a long time,” a mesmerising tenor voice lilted from the top of the stairs.

Jaskier jumped, almost falling over as he twirled again to face the mysterious owner of the murder house. His mouth fell open as he saw the beautiful blond at the top of the stairs. His skin was deathly pale, and his hair now fell to his shoulders in a cascade of curls, but there was no denying that it was the same man from the portrait. Blood red eyes glowed in the darkness, never blinking as he peered down at Jaskier with a haughty expression. Gone were the elegant regency clothes from the portrait. Instead, the blond wore an unreasonably sexy lingerie set, black as the midnight sky, with garters strapped around his thighs. On each thigh above the garter was a holster, with an elegantly decorated hilt; daggers.

Seriously, who the fuck carried daggers in this day and age? Surely you needed a license for that?

But on the mysterious stranger it just seemed to work. He was timeless in his beauty.

The fine silvery silk robe trailed behind him, and he raised one perfect eyebrow, looking considerably unimpressed. Jaskier’s eyes widened as he realised he still hadn’t said anything, too busy gawking at the angel before him…

Or perhaps the devil.

There was no way this gorgeous creature was a man from god. He was too sinfully tempting.

“Ah, bollocks,” Jaskier stammered. “Well, you see I just- there was a teeny problem with my ride, and then the storm, and well… the wine. Oh the wine, it was absolutely delectable, you have never tasted anything as delicious, a true blessing from the gods themselves.”

He was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t shut up. Jaskier just kept talking, letting his wine fuelled brain spew poetry about everything and nothing. He talked about Geralt, the flowers he’d seen on his walk, the stars that had been glittering in the sky before the clouds had ruined the view. He talked about the way the river shone in the moonlight, and Geralt, and the cute adorable kitten he’d seen sheltering in an alley… and well… about Geralt.

“Forgive me, dear fellow,” The man finally interrupted with a wave of his hand, “but if you are quite done, I’d like to ask what you are doing in my home.”

Jaskier blushed, glancing between the very much shut door and the handsome figure before him. Gesturing wildly between himself and the door he stammered, “The door? It- it- ah, well, it just sort of opened.”

“And you walked in? I must say, you really have no sense of self preservation. Pretty little thing though, aren’t you?”

Jaskier scoffed, putting his hand on his hips. “Little?!”

“How old are you? Barely twenty by the looks of it,” he smirked, a long finger brushing Jaskier’s cheek. “So young.”

“I- I-!” Jaskier spat out, “You! I’m twenty five!”

“A child,” the man hissed.

And Jaskier’s heart jumped. He froze, an icy feeling creeping through his veins.

Fangs.

Red eyes.

Definitely immortal.

“Oh fuck, fuck!” Jaskier fell backwards, tripping over his own feet. “You’re a vampire! No. No, no, no. This is a joke. Fuck!”

“Vampire,” the vampire scoffed. “How rude! I have a name, buttercup.”

“I- how- oh cock,” Jaskier whined.

But before he could flee, the vampire’s hands were around his neck. The bastard moved faster than light. His pale skin a blur as it pressed against Jaskier’s throat, lifting him from the floor.

And Jaskier, in all his idiotic horniness, was starting to feel rather aroused by the whole thing. Sure, he was scared shitless, but if the vampire didn’t kill him…

Well…

Jaskier really hated his dick sometimes.

“So, ah- umm, will you do me the pleasure of telling me your name?” Jaskier squeaked, gasping for air.

The vampire chuckled, a beautiful melodic laugh that could charm aphrodite herself. “Finally, some manners, darling. My name is Dandelion, you would do well to remember it.”

That was… promising.

“A flower for a flower?” Jaskier suggested, praying that this would not be his last night on earth. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Oh, my dear Julian, I have no intention of killing you. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a monster, unlike the villain that turned me. Now, he was an utter cock. He didn’t even ask! Day before my wedding, unbelievable.”

Jaskier laughed. Was the vampire, Dandelion, actually telling him his backstory? What the fuck had he walked into?

“That’s… unfortunate?”

“It was a complete disaster, my darling Henrietta married the deplorable Valdo Marx instead and I had to flee to the shadows like some bloody monster. It gets lonely.”

Jaskier blinked, feet still dangling as the vampire held him by his collar. He was struggling to breathe, his cock was hard in his pants and he was almost certain that he probably would survive the night. “Can’t- breathe.”

“Oh, poppycock! I am ever so sorry, dear boy,” Dandelion cooed and dropped Jaskier to the ground. “Better?”

“Yeah, yup.”

Dandelion inhaled deeply, “Oh, you do smell good, really good.”

This felt more like what Jaskier would expect from a vampire encounter. Before he could even respond, Jaskier felt himself being thrown back against the nearest wall, Dandelion’s cold body pressed up against his. The vampire ran his nose under Jaskier’s jaw, a low moan falling from his lips. “Talk about fine wine. You, my dear buttercup, smell utterly irresistible.”

Jaskier whimpered, his hands nervously gripping Dandelion’s silk robe, fingers intertwining in the soft fabric. He wasn’t really sure what was happening but he knew he liked it. Getting fucked by a vampire, there were worse things in life, especially when the vampire was as pretty as Dandelion. Jaskier wondered whether his eyes really had been such a dazzling blue before he was turned into a creature of the night. Red eyes burned like fire instead, the pupils almost completely black.

It should have been fucking terrifying.

It should have.

And Jaskier thought he’d never seen such a beautiful creature as the man before him. There was a scrape of teeth against his throat, and Jaskier groaned, helplessly baring his neck to give the vampire better access. He’d never thought getting his blood drained would be so alluring, but he was achingly hard and feeling heady with arousal at the mere thought of it.

The vampire just laughed and pressed a skin to Jaskier’s neck. “Eager little whore, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“Now, now, patience,” Dandelion purred, making Jaskier shiver. “First we need to get you out of those clothes. You must be absolutely freezing, where are my manners?”

“Fuck your manners,” Jaskier grumbled, yelping as Dandelion scooped him into his arms and flew through the house. “Oi! Watch it!”

“Such a fragile little flower.”

“I- You, oh fuck off,” Jaskier protested weakly, because to Dandelion, he was fragile. He was human, mortal, weak. Despite looking like the stronger one of the two, Jaskier was like a glass rose compared to the glimmering diamond that was the vampire.

Dandelion fussed around him in a blur of silver and blonde, peeling Jaskier’s wet clothes from his skin, bringing him a steaming mug of sweet tea. It was all… kind of nice?

The vampire had said he was lonely after all, and maybe Jaskier’s blood would taste nicer if he was not miserable and cold. How was he supposed to know?

“Dandelion?” Jaskier asked, cocking his head as he looked up at the pretty blond from the pile of soft silk sheets on the bed.

“Yes? Did I miss anything? It’s been a while since I’ve had human company.”

Jaskier couldn’t help but smile. He’d been in the strange house less than any hour and yet his head was spinning from the rollercoaster of emotions, fear, arousal, panic, and now whatever this was, a sort of fondness perhaps?

“Everything is perfect, Dandelion, but why- why am I here? I thought… you’re a vampire. I smell good? Didn’t you want to- to-, you know?”

Dandelion giggled and perched on the bed next to Jaskier. “Sweet buttercup, I would never drink from you unless you wanted it. It’s not expected of you. I can go without.”

“You can?”

“But of course! And I’m not about to fuck you when you’re shivering, and reeking of fear, no matter how hard your cock is. I have standards, Jaskier.”

The vampire had standards. Of course he fucking did. “I’m not afraid now,” Jaskier whispered, “And I want you to drink. Come on, trapped-”

“You’re not trapped.”

“- in a vampire’s house, in the middle of a thunderstorm. It practically writes itself.”

“And yet, I made you tea?”

Jaskier laughed, “Yes.”

“Well then?” Dandelion breathed in a soft low whisper that made Jaskier’s skin tingle, “Perhaps a kiss?”

This time it wasn’t Dandelion’s hands that forced that air from Jaskier’s lungs, but his words. Jaskier swallowed, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as Dandelion approached him. The daggers had been removed from their holsters and set aside on the table, but the rest of the vampire’s ensemble remained. Jaskier, on the other hand, was as naked as the day he was born, only the silken sheets to protect his modesty. His cheeks warmed under the heat of Dandelion’s gaze, a blush that he was sure bloomed right down to his heart. He nodded dumbly, unable, for the first time in his life, to find the right words.

Dandelion’s skin was like ice as he cupped Jaskier’s cheek, their lips barely a breath apart. “You really are such a pretty flower, I love beautiful things.”

Jaskier whimpered as their lips met, ice and fire, vampire and human. Their breaths mingled as Jaskier eagerly parted his lips, and Dandelion’s tongue slipped inside his mouth. Jaskier had kissed a lot of people in his life but never anyone quite like Dandelion, centuries of practice served the vampire well, and Jaskier was left breathless and panting in mere seconds. His arousal from before reared up and he moaned wantonly against Dandelion’s lips.

“Divine,” the vampire murmured as they parted, and he pushed Jaskier backwards against the bed, their legs entangling so that Dandelion’s thighs pressed against Jaskier’s cock, “simply divine.”

“Dandelion,” Jaskier moaned, his head falling back onto the pillow.

“My venom won’t harm you, darling,” Dandelion whispered, his lips pressing against Jaskier’s neck, “but it will enhance your pleasure, dull your other senses so you know only me, my lips, my hands. You’ll be more relaxed than you ever thought possible…”

“Yes,” Jaskier answered Dandelion’s unanswered question.

The vampire sank his teeth into Jaskier’s skin, sharp pain soon subsiding into what could only be described as the most intense pleasure that Jaskier had ever felt. It was heavenly, magical, a blessing from god herself. He vaguely heard himself moan, arching his back off the bed as he thrust against Dandelion’s thigh. Every movement sent wave after wave of never-ending pleasure through his body, fire burning in his soul. He whined when Dandelion pulled away from his neck, rocking into Jaskier’s body, unheard praises whispering into his ear. When their lips met once more, Jaskier could taste his blood on Dandelion’s tongue.

It was addictive. He wanted more, more, more. “‘Lion,” he slurred as their bodies rocked together.

“Shh, little buttercup,” the vampire cooed, brushing Jaskier’s fringe from his eyes, before biting once more on his shoulder.

Jaskier keened, his orgasm shattering through him as he bucked up against the vampire. It seemed to be an eternity before he came back to himself, covered in cum and his own blood on Dandelion’s bed. The vampire in question was running his fingers through the thick hair on Jaskier’s chest, blood staining his lips, smearing down his chin. He looked as fucked out as Jaskier felt, smiling serenely as he hummed under his bed.

And his eyes were cornflower blue.

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed shakily. “Did you…”

“Mhmm, not long after you. What a sight you made, truly stunning? I really would love to paint you one day.”

Jaskier groaned and rolled over, grimacing at the mess but too tired to care. “If the sex is that good, you can paint me every fucking day.”

“Oh, darling buttercup,” Dandelion cooed, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s shoulder where the bite mark was beginning to heal. “You and I are going to get along splendidly.”

#the witcher #jaskilion #jaskier x dandelion #vampire dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing

29 notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

Text

Stopping you - Michael Gray [Part 3]

Words: 3.7k+

Warnings: Cursing. Smoking. Drinking Alcohol. Slight mentions of smut.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

After a long day at work, all you can think about is how good alcohol sounds right about now.

The men outside of your door are already drunk and dancing around in the pub. Not that you cared, working with singing men and loud footsteps is something you’re grown used to.

You leave your things over your desk and grab your keys. As you walked out of your office, you were welcomed by the smell of tobacco and whiskey, something that must be in engraved in the Garrison walls by now.

“Y/N!” A drunken man screams with his arms in the air, big smile and with great enthusiasm in his face. “How are you, my love?”

“I’m doing good. What about you, dear?” You ask with not even half of his enthusiasm, but with a small smile.

“Oh, you know, same old. My wife hates me still, which is unfortunate” He says, and you chuckle at his indifference towards the situation.

“You’ll eventually get her love again, I’m sure of it” You tell him, in hopes that that it would be enough to keep his cheery-self dancing around and not crying against the walls.

“I sure will”

You walk away from the man as the music continues to control the rhythm in the room, and as you get close enough to the bar’s counter, Billy looks over at you.

“The usual or something stronger?” He asks and you smile at him.

“The usual”

The strong option is your perfect drink when you haven’t been your best. Maybe work is being a bigger pain the ass or, even, Tommy got himself a new rival. Works for both of them, the only difference between them is how many cups you down on each night.

As Billy puts down, in front of you, a glass cup with whiskey, you’re quick to send him a grin as a thank you.

You sip your black-tea-coloured drink and almost sigh in content as the flavour extends from the tip of your tongue to the back and how it leaves its burning trail down your throat.

“Never thought you were the whiskey type of woman” Someone says beside you and you put your drink down when recognizing the voice.

“Usually happens when you don’t really know someone”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek at your words and looks down at the dark brown counter, silent.

You don’t look at him. Your hands play with the cold cup, fingers moving and creating droplets of water, which naturally drip down into the old wood.

Your eyes, then, travel the whole room, from the singer in the small stage to the drunk men that happily singed along, ignoring that they’re completely off tune.

Michael, on the other hand, when noticing that you aren’t looking at him, looks straight at you. Admiring your shiny hair that moves as you move to stare at someone else. Your suit, which shows to have no creases whatsoever and hugged your figure in all the right places. Your hands now decorated with golden pieces of jewellery just like his mother would, sometimes, wear.

The one thing Michael couldn’t take a good look at was your face. The one he now knows that is decorated with light make-up, making your infinite and natural beauty stand out to anyone who would cross paths with you.

“Are you planning on telling me why you’re here or do you want to continue to stare at me in silence?” You ask when turning back to your drink, making Michael get a good sight at your side profile.

“I wanted a drink” He answers, and you sigh.

“Not here at the Garrison” You correct, “Even though I do believe that this place doesn’t meet your American influenced standards” You say, adding the last words purely just to annoy him, “I meant why you’re sitting next to me”

Michael stands quiet, as he’s quite taken aback as he didn’t expect such spiteful words come out of your mouth.

“No special reason” He says, and you scoff, “You’re just the only person I know in this pub” He adds, making you almost roll your eyes.

“That usually happens to the ones that don’t stay in touch, you know?” You say, now looking up at him, “These people have been regulars for some time. Friends with the Peaky Blinders, friendly people”

Michael’s eyes stay glued on yours as you look over at him. Your eyes are filled with arrogance and disinterest, but they still made him hold on to his breath as they met with his.

Your words, though, were hurtful, and they got a reaction from him.

“You know it wasn’t my choice to leave for America” He says, grabbing his drink, which had been put down by Billy a few seconds ago as you talked.

“No. But it was your choice to leave us”

Michael is silent once more.

Confusion filled the man’s mind as you said those words, they didn’t make sense to him, especially after you just agreed on it not being his choice to leave the country.

Until they did.

He had left, physically, months before he really left. He was still a part of your and his mom’s life after getting on that boat. And it all ended because he-

It doesn’t matter anymore, now, does it?. Michael thought.

The truth tends to hurt more than it should, so might as well not speak of it.

“I’m happy to see that you’ve changed” Michael says, ignoring what you had said, sipping his whiskey.

You stay silent and quickly look over at the band, which was starting a new song.

“You sound and look more mature” He continues, “It seems as if you grew stronger”

“Can’t say the same about you” You say in almost a whisper without looking at him and Michael lets your words register in his mind before thinking of an answer.

Your finger circles the rim of your cup as you try to ignore the man’s presence and Michael decides to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin his opportunity to talk to you even further.

You sip your whiskey and immediately hate that you can’t even enjoy it as much as you wanted. Your mind is too occupied with Michael to even concentrate in the flavour of the drink.

A hand touches your back, making you snap back to reality, and you turn slightly to see the owner of the hand (and whether or not you need to chop it off him). You relax once your eyes meet Finn’s.

“Well, look if it isn’t the one who has been avoiding me for a whole week” You say with a smile, making Finn smile back at you.

“I haven’t been avoiding you” He says before pulling you into a small and tight hug.

The smell of tobacco hits you as your body collides with Finn’s chest and you wrap your arms around him to hug him back.

Billy is quick to run over to you and serve a drink to the youngest Shelby brother and you smile at Finn’s appearance once pulling away.

“You look like a mess” You comment at him and he rolls his eyes.

“No surprise there, Tommy has been giving the weirdest of orders lately” He says before downing his whole drink in one go, cringing slightly at the burning sensation and at the sour taste.

Michael’s eyes stay on his cousin as you smile brightly at him and he studies the situation silently. He can’t help but think about how this is, surely, a friendship he did not expect to see when coming back home.

Finn, the one guy that liked to suck petrol off people’s cars for fun, is now friends with a girl, who liked to run through flower fields and ride horses for a living. Now that’s a shocker.

Michael clenches his jaw once his cousin looks at him and he looks down at his drink, trying to hear your conversation as a way to relax his mind and not overthink about the whole situation.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” You ask Finn, catching the younger boy’s attention again.

“Am I being recruited to lay in bed the whole day?” He asks with a teasing smirk.

“You can always name a better idea to pass time”

“I sure know my ways” He jokes, and you hit his shoulder while dramatically gasping and biting your smile in.

Michael has had enough the moment he heard Finn’s words. His heart pumps in his chest as he grabs his cup and downs his drink in a swig.

He just wants to get out of there.

He quickly throws money at the counter and turns away from it, finally making his way out of the old Pub.

Finn glares at Michael’s back as he opens the door abruptly and you smile at the drunken men trying to pull you in for a group dance.

Your best friend looks away from Michael, who now is making his way to his car, and looks down at your laughing state, twirling while holding an older man’s hand. Finn smiles at you and you continue to laugh with the man as he makes his own twirl while holding your hand.

(…)

Finn’s ways to have fun can vary on who he’s hanging out with.

When he’s with you, in your days off, it can start with lying in bed and talk about life, and end with riding some of Tommy’s horses through some fields - which surprisingly always ends up with having races between you two.

You win, most of the time, and Finn easily gets done with riding whenever you do.

One day you tried to bake with him in Polly’s kitchen, just to try and do new things. And let’s just say that in a space of 15 minutes, Finn was able to turn the soft batter into pure cement.

‘Never again’, you told him.

At night, after dinner, your plans are a whole different story.

Pubs are simply the only way you two seem to know how to have fun, and the only think that varies in those nights, are the drinks and their quantities. Literally.

“Stop it!” You say loudly while smiling at Finn, who threw another handful of dry leaves at you.

“Or what?” He teases.

“Mud will find its way into your pockets really quick” You say with a serious expression and Finn snaps his head to you, shaking his head, “Oh yes, in your newly bought suit”

“You’re no fun” He says while leaning his head back on the grass.

The two of you lay on the grass of the field in silence, staring at the white clouds that covered most of the sky.

The horses aren’t far from you two, eating the fresh green grass happily while minding their own business.

“How have you been lately?” Finn asks, breaking the silence. “About, you know, Michael coming back”

“Not that bad” You say in a whisper, closing your eyes as the sun peeks from the clouds, warming your exposed skin.

“Are you sure?”

You don’t answer him this time, making Finn move his head to the side and look up at you. He stares at your face, which already has its natural frown engraved into it, and expects a reaction. Which did not seem to appear.

It’s like you didn’t even hear him. But he knows you did.

“I haven’t met his fiancé yet” He continues, and you scoff, making him smirk.

“You aren’t missing much”

Finn’s smirk curves into a full-grown smile and he looks back at the sky, bright eyes burning at the brightness.

“What’s the worst thing about her?” He asks, actually curious about the blonde American he has heard so much of.

“Attitude” You answer quickly, without even a second thought.

“That bad, uh?”

You smile at his curiosity and open your eyes slightly, squinting at the light.

“No, Finn. She’s not your type” You say in a reprehensive tone, and he chuckles with you, punching your leg lightly. “But seriously, this time. She isn’t that special”

“Ooh” He says in a low voice and a teasing tone, “You hate her”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate’” You comment, “Just strongly dislike” You add while laughing in between words, making Finn shake his head in disbelief.

He sighs loudly and holds himself up on his arms before laying his head on your thighs.

“I wish I was on that family meeting” He says, making you grin and lay your hand on his head.

Your fingers play with his short hair while deep in thought, imagining Gina’s face and remembering how much she annoyed you the other day.

“You would’ve made it more entertaining, to be honest” You say and Finn dramatically gasps.

“I knew that you would eventually miss me in meetings. Just try to tell that to Tommy so I can finally be accepted back in”

You laugh loudly at him and he smiles at the sound of your laughter.

(…)

Michael pushes the Garrison’s doors open while walking in and that was enough to catch some people’s attention. His face is well known, even to the ones that are not too familiar of the Peaky Blinders, or even Birmingham as a whole.

His eyes travel through the people around the pub and they quickly land on you.

He immediately notices by your movements that you’re drunk out of your mind as you danced with older men and women at the loud live music and smiled up at them.

His eyes drift away from you and as he reaches the counter, he orders a drink to Billy, who noticed his presence once he came in.

As the man behind the counter starts to serve his drink, Michael looks over his shoulder to check and see if he hasn’t lost you in the crowd just yet.

He then took notice of the dress that you’re wearing.

Memories crashed into his mind like waves into rocks. It’s the same dress that you wore in Tommy and Grace’s wedding.

It’s black, which was unusual to your style at the time, but still flowy. It moves with you and with the wind, easily catching people’s attention when you danced around them.

The day of the wedding was definitely one of his favourite memories of you.

He remembers how the two of you sat next to each other during the religious ceremony that connected Grace and Thomas to each other.

And how you two silently imagined how that would be the two of you in some years.

The way you leaned your head on his shoulder and pulled his hand into your lap.

It was all engraved in his mind.

If he had the choice, he would forget all of the days that you two shared together. Before all that happened, those memories were what calmed Michael down and brought him back to the sweeter side of reality. But now, they only work as a torture mechanism for his brain.

He doesn’t want to remember the old times, especially when his fiancé is just a few streets away from this pub, sleeping, and completely unaware that he isn’t next to her in bed.

But his mind likes to play tricks.

The images of all the hugs and soft kisses from that day replayed on his head. Even what had happened after the ceremony, in one of the storage rooms.

Your soft gasps and your delicate touch replayed as if it was no longer a memory, but reality. The way his hands touched the soft skin of your hips and your thighs, while you moaned softly into his ear, trying to keep quiet.

It was all so vivid that it felt like it happened just the day before.

And those were only memories of one good day.

Michael has millions of memories of the two of you.

And, unfortunately, only few were bad.

As he stares into the ground, trying to shake away his thoughts, you notice him. A smile grew in your face immediately.

You down your drink and decide to walk over to him, stumbling over some things on your way to him. Some men around you laugh at how you almost lose your balance and fall to the ground a few times, but you ignore them.

“Look if it isn’t the American wannabe” You say loudly when you reach his side and Michael looks up from the floor at you.

“Already with the insults?” He asks and you shrug.

“It’s just a reflex by now” You comment making him nod and lift his eyebrows in annoyance. “Where’s your wife?”

“My fiancée” He corrects but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it, “is at the hotel”

You frown slightly.

“Sad. We could all have fun together”

Michael ignores your comment and you lean in closer to him.

“Did you ever love me?” You lean over to the counter and lay your head on your fist as you waited for an answer, in which you never got. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Your voice is a complete giveaway of your intoxication. That, and the small hiccups between words.

Michael doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at his drink.

“You always said you did” You say before looking down at the rings on your hands. “Must’ve been a lie”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek as he fights to stay quiet, but he decides not to.

“It wasn’t a lie”

“That’s what a liar would say” You exclaim proudly, and he rolls his eyes at your immaturity, mostly caused by the large amount of gin and whiskey you’ve consumed.

If you had to be honest, alcohol is obviously what is making you want to talk to Michael in the first place, even if it’s just to insult him. You wouldn’t make your sober feet move to go talk to him, and that was even obvious to Michael, who still saw this as improvement.

Out of frustration, Michael takes a cigarette out of its metal box and lights it in a quick movement. He inhales and his lungs fill with the familiar smoke, like any other day. But it feels different.

Maybe it’s because he’s not used to smoking in this particular pub after these 2 years, or maybe it’s just your presence next to his.

At least that’s he likes to believe.

The nicotine isn’t relaxing him as it usually did. So may God help him through the night.

You look over your shoulder at Michael and slightly turn over to stand in front of the man, between him and the counter. Your eyes analyse his face and your eyes meet for a slight second.

“You have an eyelash-” You say while extending your hand over Michael’s face, reaching for his face, swiping your thumb over the eyelash that has fallen onto his cheek.

Michael doesn’t flinch at your touch or even slightly move away; he lets you touch him. You blow the small hair out of your finger and your eyes drift over to his, once more.

“You didn’t change at all” You say with a slight frown on your face.

“That’s normal. Two years isn’t that long” He answers back.

You scoff at his words while fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Speak for yourself” You whisper, and Michael almost doesn’t hear it. “Anyways, you need to start bringing your wife out more times. I’m interested in knowing her better”

“She’s not my wife” He corrects you once more, “And that is not happening”

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Pretty obvious, if you ask me”

You ignore him and look around the bar, bored out of your mind.

“I still don’t know what you see in her” You say while confidently grabbing Michael’s drink from the counter and sipping it.

“Many things” He answers dryly.

“So many that you can’t even name one?” You tease and Michael looks away from you. “Come on, Miss America must have at least one good thing about her”

He shakes his head before looking back at you

“Why do you care so much?”

“Just curious” You say while shrugging, “She was a big surprise to all of us. It wouldn’t hurt to know a little more about her”

“We can talk whenever you’re sober”

“Ooh, you’re a big responsible man, now” You say with an annoyed tone, “Damn, you can be annoying”

“That insult is new” He teases further.

He is definitely the most infuriating person you’ve ever met. Maybe he has changed after all.

“You are probably the person I hate the most in the world, now that I think about it” You say, ignoring his words and drunkenly smiling at him.

You have to annoy him as much as you can, it’s only fair if the two of you suffer.

Michael clenches his jaw and you continue to smile at him. The smile is more than fake, and that can be seen from a mile away.

“Did I hit a nerve?” You ask him, “If so, I’m sure that you can always walk out of here to your wife’s arms, like the loyal husband that you are”

Oh, two can play at that game; Michael thought.

“You’re sounding a little obsessed” He says with a fake smile as well, not wanting to correct you again.

“Really?” You ask with a scoff, “Maybe we can start a competition on who’s more obsessed, then. Since, well, you know, it’s the second day you come in this pub and stare at me, while I’m quietly minding my own business”

Michael stays silent and you lean closer to him.

“Go back to your wife, Michael. I’m sure you’re more welcomed there, anyways” You say, “Oh, and isn’t she supposedly pregnant as well?”

“She isn’t”

“What a bummer”

You smile while leaning closer to Michael, who surprisingly hasn’t taken a step back yet, and your eyes move to stare down at his lips as a reflex. You stare back at his eyes to find them doing the same thing.

The alcohol pulls the two of you closer and your lips crash onto the corner of his lips.

It lasts 2 seconds and as you pull away slightly before Michael could make a scene, and to your surprise, he looks annoyed.

You pull back completely and down the rest of his drink, quickly walking away from the bar, over to the men that were already ready to dance again.

You smile proudly at you did and shout with the men in excitement as you restart the dance with them.

Tomorrow’s going to be fun.

- - - - - -

Taglist: @ohhersheybars @woodland-mist @onlythechicagoway @soleil-dor @finn-shelbys-bulldog @oh-theres-a-woman @peakyxtommy @ms-reader @beautycinders @lovemissyhoneybee @graceedwards @jadesbabylon @marvelismylifffe @a-dorky-book-keeper @peakascum @shanetoo @hufflemendes @cherrytop02 @http-cherries @burnitup

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #finn shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagin #finn cole #finn cole x reader #fanfiction

253 notes · View notes

live-laugh-lenney · 3 years

Text

The One Where YN Meets Will.

Hello, hi!

I’m Emily, I’ve had this blog for a few months now and I’m not sure what I want to do with it, apart from reblog gifs of Will and catch up on all things Youtube and the Eboys and the Sidemen and all that. Thought about giving writing a go, since I’ve done some before on another blog for another fandom, and this came from my brain as an attempt at writing for WillNE.

I am willing to take requests or write anything that anyone wants me to write about, if anyone would like one written for a specific idea.

Hope you like it. x

A consistent buzz came beside her.

Rumbling on top of her bedside table, her phone laid overturned and ringing with an incoming call from someone, charging on the thick Stephen King book that she was halfway through reading, ripples rolling over the surface of the water in the tall glass placed next to it, that she took to bed with her the previous night. She glanced at the salt lamp, small and jagged-looking and emitting a dull orange glow behind the sunlight that streamed through her windows, and gave herself a tut for leaving it on overnight; she couldn’t remember leaving it on although she couldn’t help but give a mental clap at how truthful the benefits of having a Himilayan salt lamp had been.

‘MUM’

The three letter word flashed at her in bold text, above a candid photo that someone had taken of her and her mum in a heart-to-heart chat in the middle of a family barbecue that had taken a turn once her father had found the alcohol stash in the garage and turned a casual family get-together into a night where everyone stumbled over the front doorstep on their way out. A heart-to-heart conversation that had them both smiling brightly at one another.

“Mum, hi.”

“Hi, darling.” Her voice sounded so soft, so sweet, inviting and warm and YN missed her more than anything; if she had anything to say about moving miles away, she would always give the advice of making sure distance was something you could handle. “You sound tired, did I wake you? I thought you’d be on your way to work by now.”

YN looked at the red numbers on the screen of her alarm clock, reading 7:45, and she had a tiny freak-out for a brief moment before she came to the realisation that it was her day off and she wasn’t due into work until after the weekend had finished.

“You did, yeah. I’m not due at work today though. They gave me the day off since my boss’ schedule is just meetings out of town today. He’s up North for conferences and such and it was late notice for me so he didn’t mind me not accompanying him. I wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway,” YN clarified and she used her free hand to push herself up from the mattress. Her hair was knotted and pillow-messed, sticking up in all directions and falling loose from the ponytail she’d thrown it up in before she fell asleep. Her t-shirt twisted around her middle which she adjusted with her fingers, bringing her knees to her chest and staring out the window as the sun continued its rise in the horizon. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t fuss about me,” she heard her mother tut from down the line. But YN couldn’t help but fuss over the two of them; if she lived closer to them, she wouldn’t worry so much because they’d be just a short distance away if they needed her help. But she didn’t live close and she hadn’t done for almost two years; she lived almost 300 miles northeast of where she used to live with her parents and it wouldn’t take her more than twenty minutes to tend to their needs. “We’re both fine, stop worrying yourself, darling. Your dad’s been back doing his gardening so he’s out there already. Watering his flowers, spraying fertiliser, cleaning all the fox poo up. He’s been growing some veggies in the plot next to the greenhouse so you can take some back when you next come to visit.”

YN smiled to herself, bringing her shoulders to her jawline before dropping them and relaxing against her headboard. The back of her head resting against the plush velvet, coloured a clean white, and her toes curled into the sheet beneath her, her fist clutching the duvet as she brought it tighter to her body.

“You can always send me some in a box? Or you could come and visit and drop them off yourself? You know I’ve got the spare room in the new place if you want to come up for a weekend. It’s vacant, just full of my empty moving boxes and bags that I haven’t gotten rid of yet,” YN said, a yawn creeping up her throat that she hid with the palm of her hand, “I need dad’s handyman work to come and help put some shelves up. You’ve not seen it yet.”

“Your dad said it’s a lovely flat. Lovely view. Lovely building. But, you know what he’s like when it comes to describing things. Everything’s lovely,” her mother snorted and YN laughed softly; her father had always been vague and she’s pretty sure that she’d never heard him use any other word to describe something other than ‘lovely’. “We’ve been talking about paying you a visit.”

“Please do. It’s a little lonely here by myself. I’m yet to meet new friends or have a chat with the neighbours. Everyone’s either back in Cornwall or back in Hackney and both are a hefty distance away.”

YN had never considered herself as an introvert so to call herself lonely felt strange.

She was always the friend who asked for the bill, she was the friend who made the complaint in a restaurant when a plate of food came back wrong, she was the friend who made advances on blokes in pubs and clubs because her friends were too shy to go and introduce themselves and she was the friend who always carried the responsibility of making polite conversation with people in pubs when they needed a table to perch themselves at. She was that friend. So making friends with strangers and starting conversations with her co-workers and approaching others who she found had kind features was never something she struggled with.

Moving to a new place and having to make new relationships and form new bonds, regardless of how far it was from the bonds and relationships you already had, she found it daunting to start fresh.

“What are you doing today?”

“I’m not sure. The weather is really nice and it looks warm out so I might go and explore Canary Wharf and see what’s around. I need to do some shopping, food and furniture, so I might do some of that,” YN rolled onto her side and let her cheek rest against the cold side of her mattress, the backs of her thighs exposed to the cool air of her bedroom as her t-shirt rose up her body; and she made a mental note to buy herself so proper pyjamas because knickers and an oversized t-shirt could cause more problems than expected. “We’ve got a lovely grass area outside the block of flats so I might sit out there, soak up the sunshine, read a book and eat some lunch. I don’t know. Might see how the day goes, I have a good feeling about it.”

“Go exploring. You can find some places to show us when we come to visit,” and YN smiled.

“I’ll do that. You’ll love it mum. This place is amazing. I feel so lucky to have been given something as beautiful as this. I had a crack den for my first flat so this feels like a dream,” she stared at her ceiling. There was no yellow tint from how the previous tenants smoked inside and there were no unusually coloured stains on the ceiling’s coving that caught the eye because of how a stain of that colour shouldn’t have been there, leaving the mystery of just how it got there… and YN didn’t need that kind of stress over something like that. “It doesn’t smell like pee, there’s no syringes outside and there’s no sign of vomit or shit stains on the floor because it’s all laminate.”

“You deserve it, darling. You really do.”

“It’s clean, mum. It came clean, it smells clean, it looks clean. Everything looks brand new and,” YN pauses for a moment, rolling onto her stomach and she sighs with content, “I love it.”

After hanging up, she contemplated getting up and getting dressed for the day.

It felt rather tempting to stay in her comfortable loungewear and enjoy the silence, the time to herself and the time off she had been after for so long, taking advantage of Deliveroo and ordering food for breakfast, lunch and dinner rather than cooking something homemade and having the leftovers the next day (or for when she woke up in the early hours with a hankering for something to nibble on, because she could, because she didn’t have an authority figure to tell her no).

By the time her phone call ended with her mother, it was a little over forty-five minutes later and her alarm clock showed a time that she didn’t want to see on her day off; 8:35am. She expected another hour or two added on to her usual sleep schedule, to make a difference to the usual 6am alarm call that had her detesting her job just a tiny bit, but it wasn’t frowned upon because she’d take any given opportunity to speak to her mother. The one person she called her best friend because she really was the only person, apart from her father, that she’d drop anything and everything important for. Her sleep didn’t matter when she got to her the voice of someone she missed so dearly.

Porridge and fruit, a colourful array of strawberries and blueberries and bananas and cranberries in her bowl, and a warm cup of tea had been her breakfast as she caught up with the lifestyle Youtube channel she had been in the loop with. A Youtube channel that she had been a big fan of from the moment she moved to London, one who she turned to in times of need, one that she stumbled across when googling aesthetically pleasing ways to decorate a flat because she really needed to do something about how her Hackney flat had looked before a lick of paint and a hanging plant, one that she continued to view and like and followed tips from, even when it came to her new flat.

“Don’t be afraid to like monochrome and definitely don’t be afraid to follow a colour scheme that might seem ‘out there’ and in your face. If you like lime green then go paint a portion of your wall that colour. If you like the brightest shade of pink then go mad and add some colour to your life. You can never feel more organised than when your surroundings follow a consistent pattern that brings immense amounts of joy when you enter.”

The young girl on her screen, with space-buns either side of her head and an outfit that definitely came from a trendy thrift store clothes rail, sat before a wall of a delicious shade of peach that YN thought looked lovely; not for herself, because she’d stuck with the whites and the greys and the blacks that her flat already consisted of, but perfect for the young twenty-something year old.

“There are loads of websites where you can buy hanging plants, or artificial hanging baskets, and hanging canvas prints and wall art. I’m always looking for new things to buy so I’ll link some of my favourite online stores for you to check out; hit my Instagram mentions up with photos of things you’ve brought, too. That’s what I love to see.”

YN’s spoon clinked against the ceramic bowl in front of her as she pushed it away from her, reaching for her television remote and turning off her Youtube app, her television turning off completely and leaving a black screen behind. The flat falling silent. She looked around her, drumming her fingers against the tabletop, eyes squinting as the sunlight streamed through the wall-to-ceiling windows and made everything feel bright..

As much as she warmed to the idea of staying inside and ordering furniture and decor for her home, scrolling through online stores to buy something she thought she needed but really didn’t need, she had a good feeling about the upcoming day.

“Listen, love, I’m not sure if you could tell but I’m not exactly a people person. I don’t know you, don’t want to know you, have no plans to get to know you. You might live in the building but that doesn’t mean we need to be friendly.”

He spoke with such vigour in his voice that YN could only keep quiet so as to not entice a negative reaction out of him in such a confined space because confrontation was something she was never comfortable with. Sure, she’d endured confrontation before but that was from people she had been acquainted with, the ones she was friends with, people she saw on a daily basis and from people she worked with, from those who were supposed to confront her when something was wrong or hadn’t been down in a way it was supposed to be done; her boss, mainly. This man was a complete stranger, someone she didn’t know,someone she’d never seen before so instant regret filled her veins. She thought he looked friendly enough to start a quick conversation, to make the lift ride seem a little less boring, filling the empty space with general chit-chat.

Cowering away from him and almost closing in on herself, even though his attention stayed focused on the screen of his phone as he scrolled through a social media app, she thought he’d finished with her and she hadn’t expected him to perk up anymore.

“Not everyone likes to chat to strangers.”

“Well, I like chatting to strangers so don’t mind him,” a quirky Geordie accent perked up from behind her, her posture adjusting at the sudden appearance of someone behind her; she’s sure she didn’t see anyone else in the lift, apart from the towering bloke beside her, when she stepped into the lift but, then again, he was tucked away in the corner with a cap on his head and she had been looking at the floor as she entered because a mark on her white shoe had caught her attention. “Come chat to me, if you want. Promise I won’t bite your head off like matey-boy there.”

Her trainers squeaked on the floor as she spun around, eyes raking up and down his figure so she could get a good look at who the voice belonged to, almost staking him out in a way. He was a handsome chap, with brown hair sticking out from beneath a black cap upon his head that he’d pulled quite far down his forehead, a cheeky grin on his face that made the mood in the lift much brighter. There was a graphic print printed on the front of the black hoodie he had decided to throw on, the commonly-known Adidas stripes lining the length of his joggers, trainers on his feet with the laces loose and almost untying by themselves (clumsy, she assumed he was, because there’s no way he wouldn’t trip over them as soon as they loosened completely).

“I’m Will. Will Lenney.”

“I’m YN.”

“Do I get your surname? S’only fair since I told you mine.”

She laughed softly and replied with her surname, a look of appreciation on his features as he held his hand out for her to take, which she gladly shook with her own. Skin so soft, fingers so delicate, with a hold so strong that she couldn’t find herself letting go. She didn’t want to let go. This was the first contact she’d had with someone new, in a month of being new to the area, and it just so happened to be with someone she found rather attractive to the eye.

The bloke from before, who had tore down her attempts at being the friendly neighbour who he would, no doubt, see quite often, couldn’t help but let out the strongest sigh of annoyance. A sound that brought them back to reality, hands falling from their hold, dropping back down to their sides with a faint rosy-look on their cheeks that didn’t come from how warm it was. A sound that made the both of them turn their noses up, that made them their eyebrows scrunch on their browlines and made them want to really throw words at him until he gained some manners. Yet they ignored him because he wasn’t worth the time.

“You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he started, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder that had slipped with the movement of his arm falling down to his side. His fingertips and right down to the middle of his palm still felt heavy with the thought of her hand still in his. “I’d remember such a beautiful face.”

The heat already on her cheeks reached boiling and she knew her flushed look caught his attention. His smile turning into a grin which had her looking at her feet, shyly. A handsome lad with a sense of immense charm about him; she liked him and it wasn’t typical of her to form an attraction at such an early stage.

“Yeah, I moved in about a month ago. Floor 10, right at the end of the corridor. A proper upgrade from where I used to be located but thanks to my work, they moved me from my previous office block to my current office block in Canary Wharf and said they’d move me closer if necessary,” she thought she was rambling and she expected a look of faint annoyance on his features that would silently tell her to shut up. She picked at the loose string hanging from the hem of her t-shirt and twirled it around her finger, looking up from her feet and seeing a look of intense concentration on his face, enticing her to carry on. “The move was necessary. Completely necessary. It wasn’t a nice place where I was before, it was the first thing I saw on the website and I was desperate for somewhere to live. If I stayed there, I would be half an hour away otherwise.”

Canary Wharf.

It was a complete upgrade from the streets of Hackney and the dingy flat she had become so accustomed to for a little less than a year; the smell of weed and tobacco would fill the corridors and hit her in the face when she left her front door, the lights were always dim and flickered and the lifts were rickety and untrustworthy, discarded bikes and scooters and old prams and baby-carriers littered the space between one end of the hallway to the other, suspicious figures dressed in black hoodies and grey joggers always greeted her with stone-cold faces and squared-up jaws. An attempt, she guessed, to look like they were the typical hardnuts of the complex and that they weren’t to be messed with, even if it was just a polite ‘excuse me’ to pass them by and to be out of their hair within a moment.

It wasn’t all bad, regardless. Her neighbours were sweethearts, they always said hello and invited her in for cups of tea and a slice of cake after she finished work, most people were kind and warm and had their own back stories as to why they chose such a place to live - she could only imagine that the building was a nice place to live, with residents who took care of themselves and the place they lived in, before London gangs took over and were on the high of increasing and before drug dealers became more frequent on the streets - and her life, thank god, was never bothered. No one intervened, no one found her life to be their business to spread and life felt normal; she had a home, somewhere to live, somewhere to sleep and eat and shower and feel warm and cosy in a bed. Even if it wasn’t as nice as she had wanted it to be, she had somewhere.

Her new flat was almost dream-like if you compared it to what she lived in before. It made her Hackney flat look like a pit; a drug-den, if you will. She could wake up to pure sunshine filtering through double-glazed windows and there was no chance that she would be rudely woken up in the middle of the night from the ghoulish moans of the wind getting trapped between cracked window panes or the drunken yells of people stumbling down the hallways back to their homes. She could walk to her new place of work rather than hop on public transport and she could take the time to explore a side of London she never had the chance to see. Her floor was laminated wood, heated when the nights were cold, and there were no stains of garishly and disgusting colours of god-knows-what from previous tenants who had lived there. The view was beautiful, she could see right to the end of the horizon, and the scenes she was greeted with on her arrival home were almost picturesque… except pictures could never do it justice.

She’d been there for a month.

A whole four weeks.

And she could already feel improvements in her lifestyle that weren’t so bold before. She woke up happier and didn’t feel the need to stay in bed for a lie-in, she felt happier during the day and had a bob in her step that brought light to her office block, she felt safe when she walked out the reception and into the open space by the entrance and didn’t feel like she would be jumped by hiding predators if she arrived home late at night. She was friendly with her neighbours, always popped round to give them any post that had been posted through her mailbox by accident or if deliveries were left with them when she’d been at work and always started a conversation with them when they stood waiting for the lift to arrive on their floor.

“Oh, nice. What is it-”

The ding of the lift stopped Will mid-sentence, silenced them and halted their conversation as the doors opened to reveal the reception floor, empty and desolate from people. It was mid-morning, almost lunchtime, so YN had assumed most were working or out in the streets of London to enjoy the sunshine; the latter being what she had planned to do.

The man from the lift, who had tucked himself in the corner and stuck earphones in to block out their conversation, made sure he was the first one out and disappeared before YN could give him a sarcastic goodbye, not that he would have heard her anyway so she settled with a wave, a really exaggerated and over-the-top wiggle of her fingers, and hoped he saw it in the reflection of the window as he left and disappeared into the mass of people walking by their block of apartments.

“You’re a right character, you,” Will admitted, nudging her with his elbow and smirking at her, “what is it you do, job-wise? That’s what I wanted to ask.”

“I’m a PA for a CEO at an advertising company. A personal assistant who runs and gets coffee for everyone, gets lunch during her lunch-break, who organises meetings and creates schedules and gets the big boss what he wants when he wants it,” she clarified, “it’s not exactly the best job and I wish I was doing something I wanted to do but it pays well. For now, it’s enough to get me by and keep this place.”

They started walking toward the automatic doors of the entrance, feeling the cool air of the shade on their exposed skin that definitely disappeared as soon as the sunshine hit them, coming to a stop just by a brick wall. Young children were running around with their parents walking behind, cyclists were dinging bells to pass through large groups and groups of university students were huddled on the grass, eating lunches they’d brought from restaurants on their way, backpacks discarded and being used as pillows as they laughed and joked. Tourists were taking photos and posing to show off where they’d been and what they got up to when it came to showing their friends back home and businessmen and businesswomen were almost speed-walking to get back to their offices in time with a styrofoam takeaway lunch in their hands.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? Just tell me to piss off if I am.”

“No, no. Don’t be silly. I’m only popping round the corner to see my mate. He won’t mind if I’m late,” he said, perching down on the brick wall and patting the space beside him. The legs of his ankles rose up to show the white ankle socks he’d paired with his trainers., “What is it you want to do as a job? Just, the way you talk about your job now makes it sound like you don’t like it.”

“I do like it there. But I don’t want to be a personal assistant, running round London to get coffee and sandwiches, for the rest of my life. I’ve always dabbled in blogging, taking photos, talking about nonsense and stuff. Posting videos and vlogging, too. I’ve tried it out as something fun, documenting holidays and stuff, and I’d love to do something with that and take it further but... I don’t know,” she sat down beside him, sliding her bag off of her shoulder and setting it on her lap, arm looped underneath the handles to keep it from spilling the contents inside, “I don’t want to be a social influencer but someone who does what she wants to do and gets by by just being herself. No companies to promote her or anything. Nothing to boost her. All her,” she stared off into the distance, tapping the heel of her foot against the concrete. Will nodded. “What do you do?”

“I, uh,” he scoffed out a laugh and rubbed the nape of his neck. His hat fell from his head and he decided to swap the shade of the cap to the sunglasses he had hanging from the neck of his hoodie, “funnily enough, I post videos on Youtube. I’m a Youtuber.”

Her head whipped round and she gawked at him. Eyes wide, mouth agape and her hand found his forearm, squeezing it tightly with excitement.

“You’re not?”

“I am, yeah. I was in university, didn’t like what I was studying, and I was told that if I really felt strongly about this Youtube malarky then I should pursue it to its possible potential and see where I end up. My mum’s words, not mine,” he snorted. He felt her hand loosen around his forearm and he watched her face become rigid as she came to the realisation of what she’d done. He dismissed it because he didn’t want to embarrass her but, really, he didn’t mind and he found it endearing. “I’m not that big or popular or anything but I’ve got a couple million subscribe-”

“Not that big,” she mocked and rolled her eyes, “a couple million subscribers is huge. I’ll have to search you up. What’s your channel name?”

“WillNE. Like, Will then an N then an E. Like a-”

“Like a play on words with your surname,” she grinned as she proudly finished his sentence for him and he nodded, rather pleased with himself; and she had to give it to him, it was something special, unique and rather creative than some of the stand-out names she could think of from the platform. Some were really out there and had no relevance to who they were nor what they spoke about, some were vague and some were almost as bonkers as the people who came up with them. “That’s really cool. This is really cool. A famous Youtuber lives in my flat complex... I’m talking to a famous Youtuber right now... heck, I’ve managed to keep my cool around someone famous and I’m amazed I haven’t embarrassed myself. Wait till I tell my friends about this. They won’t believe me.”

“They’re not fangirls or anything, are they?”

“No, ha. If anyone’s the fangirl out of my friends then it’s me. I’ll find myself watching Youtube when I’ve got nothing else to do,” she admitted, “cooking dinner? I’ll stick someone on to watch. Can’t sleep? I’ll just binge watch someone until I’m tired. Day off and there’s nothing to do? I’ll find a channel and just let it go from there.”

“Maybe I’ll pop up on there one day. I’ll help cure your boredom,” Will grinned, “then you can say ‘hey, that’s one of my mates there on my telly, that is’.”

A comfortable silence swallowed the both of them as they sat and let the seconds tick by. The tweets of the birds came from above, distant chatter came from the students lounging on the grass behind, scuffs of soles signified people were walking and jogging nearby and despite the feeling of time coming to end between the two of them, neither of them wanted to leave the other, neither wanted to bring the conversation to an end and neither of them wanted to part ways.

“So, we’re mates, huh?”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Will smiled. Eyes locking with hers for a brief second, long enough to catch the twinkle in her eye and the genuine smile that lifted up her lips, “you’re a good’un. I like you. I think we’ll get along really bloody well, me and you.”

(WILL’S TEXTS. YN’S TEXTS.)

Filming a video tomorrow. Fancy coming by?

Won’t I get in the way?

Bollocks will you. Come along. Please. You can see firsthand how to make a Youtube video since you said you’ve always thought about it.

Where?

Only at my place. A TWOTI.

This Week On The Internet… nice one. I’ll be there.

You’ve done your research on me!

Spent all day googling you. As soon as you walked away, I started my research and I cut my day short so I could come home and watch your videos. Just call me a superfan now.

Superfan, ha.

I’ll have to test you. Could get you in a video to see if you’re my biggest fan.

Try me. I’ll get full marks. Your subscribers will look like phonies compared to me, hahaha.

You might have to sit off camera, out of shot, tomorrow. If I don’t finish everything by the time you get here, that is. No distractions. No pulling faces behind the camera.

I’ll be on my best behaviour. I’ll fangirl at the door, drop my Twitter handle into conversation, ask for a signature and a photo and then I’ll be fine.

I’m not going to regret this, am I?

You won’t hear a peep out of me. Promise.

Come by after lunch then. We can get some takeaway for lunch or something, if you don’t eat before, and I’ll have some bits filmed by the time you get here so you won’t have to sit in silence for too long.

Make it 1pm and it’s a deal.

Why 1pm?

It’s Saturday tomorrow. I don’t get up before noon on the weekends. Not even for you, mister big-shot Youtuber. ;)

And here I was, thinking you would throw your routine away for your new best mate.

Nice try.. see you tomorrow, William.

Ohh, serious. Full name and all. I see how it is, YN.

Goodnight, you muppet.

See you tomorrow. x

#willne imagines #willne fanfiction #willne blurbs #will lenney imagines #will lenney fanfiction #will lenney blurbs #youtuber fanfiction #youtuber imagines #youtuber blurbs #willne x reader fanfiction #willne x reader imagines #willne x reader fic #willne fic #will lenney fic #willne one shots #will lenney one shots

63 notes · View notes

karimjohnson · 3 years

Text

Cherry: Don’t You Call Him Baby?

Hey guy! Sorry that I have been MIA as usual lol. I have been busy with work and working overtime. I’m trying my best to stay updated with my writing. I also am in the process of writing some more preferences with Harry and some other people out there that you all may enjoy. The Fine Line preferences are my number one that I’m focusing on right now before I write anything else. I would love for you all to tell me what you would like me to write about outside of the Fine Line preferences. I want to include my readers in anything I can. So feel free to message me with suggestions or anything else you would like to see from me. Thank you for reading! Hope everyone is well! Much Love -K

Summary: You and Harry broke up about two months ago. You are finally stable enough to go back out into the world and discover yourself. You find yourself in a new relationship even if he is not Harry. You end up finding out that your best friend got a text from Harry asking about you. One night, you run into him and decide that made a meet up with Harry wouldn’t be so bad. It could bring you closure. But what happens when he starts asking questions about your new relationship.

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Rated: PG

Masterlist

After a whole year of dating, it’s hard to get back on your feet. I was so upset leaving him, but I had to do what was best for me. It broke me. He was broken too, but I’m sure he will move on better than I have. It has been a couple months since the break-up happened. I was slowly making my way back out into the world. I hid for weeks on end with my family. I was struggling trying to find a place to live and start over after getting my things out of his house.

I have moved on and found another guy named Anthony. He is sweet and understanding. He has helped me in many ways after the break-up and has been very patient with me. The only thing that bothers me about him, is he isn’t Harry. I try so hard not to compare them because it isn’t fair to Anthony. I appreciate Anthony for everything he has done for me and I think he deserves a chance. I’m moderately happy with him and I don’t want to hurt him.

My friend Amy asked me to go with her to shop for her new apartment, I happily accepted the invitation. It would help get my mind off things with Anthony and I. It would definitely help get Harry off my mind for a while too. Plus, Amy understood where I was coming from. She helped me through my break up with Harry too. She was there for the hardest days of them all. All the crying, not getting out of bed, and not eating. She took care of me because she understands it. She has gone through it too and I was there for her in those darkest hours. I appreciated her more than anything else.

I waited for her to pick me up from my apartment patiently. I played around with my hair for a little bit and chose to wear it down. I did a little bit of make-up but nothing dramatic. I decided to wear some nice blue jeans and light pink sweater. I put on my white converses and packed up my purse when I finally got a text that she was outside. I double checked the apartment to make sure everything was off and to make sure I had everything I needed. I then locked up my apartment and headed downstairs to her car. I waved as I walked out and climbed in. “I missed you,” she spoke as she leaned over and hugged me. I hugged her back, “I missed you too. I’m sorry I have been so busy with work that I just lose track of time and I’ve been wanting to hang out.”

We made some small talk and laughed on our way over to the furniture store she wanted to look at. When we got there, Amy was telling me about how she wanted her apartment set up. She was showing me ideas that she found on Pinterest. She also showed me how the apartment was set up so we knew where she wanted everything. She had measurements in her notes so we had everything down to a T. I loved helping decorate people’s homes. It was my job after all. So she did make a good call on asking me to come with her and help her out with everything. As we roamed around, she started picking things out and asking me how this or that would look. I would agree with a lot of it. Other things were just a little off, so I would pick something out to help her put it all together.

“So how are you and Anthony doing,” she asked as we walked around in the lamp isle. I bit my bottom lip while looking the opposite direction at some of the lamps. I was anticipating this conversation. I knew she was only asking because Anthony and I had only been together for about two months now. We wanted to take things slow. We didn’t live together, but we would take turns staying with one another. I lived with Harry after six months into the relationship. So I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Anthony understood that. “We are good. He is working today so I won’t see him until tonight,” I said nonchalantly.

I could feel Amy’s eyes on me, “What are you all doing tonight,” she asked curiously. I shrugged, “I think he wanted to go to the local pub for a couple of drinks. You and Jason should come.” I looked to her with a sweet smile. Jason was our other friend. He helped me through the break up with Harry too. He took me out on some breakfast dates and lunch dates to help my appetite start up again. He and Amy were my guardian angels when it came to loneliness. “That could be fun. We will have to call him later,” she smiled to me and stopped in front of some lamps that caught her eye. I stopped with her and looked at them with her.

“How have you been mentally,” she asked peeking over at me. I looked at her with my head tilted and my brows furrowed. “I’ve been alright I suppose. Just going through the motions. Get up, shower, eat, go to work, come home, and eat. I usually call Anthony and talk to him if we are too busy during the week to see one another,” I say as I pull away from the lamp I was looking at. “I think this would look really good with the couch you picked out,” I say looking to her with a grin. I was trying to avoid her bringing up Harry. I know that she wouldn’t bring him up on purpose, but it felt like she was hinting at him in particular and I didn’t understand why.

Once we finished up shopping, we loaded her car up and decided to grab some lunch together. We decided on a cute little café in the downtown area. We were sitting in a booth next to a window. We talked about work and how her dating life was going. Which, from what she has told me wasn’t going too great, but she wasn’t too worried about dating at the moment. I ended up getting lost in the conversation as I looked out the window we were sitting next to and spotting a man’s jacket that looked like something Harry would wear. I suppose the look on my face changed as I looked at it because Amy pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Hello Y/N? Are you there,” she snapped her fingers causing me to turn my head towards her. “Oh I’m so sorry Amy. I got a little distracted,” I smiled apologetically. She nodded and looked at what had me so distracted. “Have you been thinking about him lately,” she asked looking back to me. I knew she was going to say something sooner or later. I looked down and leaned back into the booth. “Not really,” I said trying to not give anything away. “Come on Y/N,” she sighed looking at me with narrowed eyes. She saw right through me. She was my best friend after all. I could never hide anything from her. I was an open book to her. “Sort of. But it’s not like that Amy. Why are you so concerned about it anyway,” I asked taking a drink of my water.

She looked down like she was guilty of something. Like she was hiding something from me. Almost as if she knew something that I didn’t. “Look, I wasn’t going to bring it up. Jason even told me not to, but I can’t keep it from you,” she sighed looking back up at me. “Harry texted me asking about how you are doing,” she said the words and I choked on my water. She brought a napkin up from the table and offering it to me. I took it and wiped my mouth with it. “He what? What did you say to him,” I asked baffled by her confession. “I just told him that you were doing fine. That’s it. Nothing more and nothing less,” she said trying to calm me down.

My anxiety was pumping through my veins. Why did he text her? Why was he concerned about me? Why did he ask about me? “Listen, just relax. That’s all I told him. I guess he was looking for information, but I didn’t tell him anything else. Or he just wanted to check on you,” she said calmly and I felt my mind wonder. “Is that why you asked me to come with you today,” I asked feeling myself growing upset. She shook her head, “No, of course not. I wanted to see you. I wanted to take you out and I wanted your professional help with my apartment. I planned on telling you the day he texted but it was too soon. You were out with Anthony and I didn’t want to spoil your night with Harry.” I nodded and looked down. I knew she meant well. I knew that she wasn’t going to inform Harry on anything unless she needed to tell him anything.

After our lunch, we went to her apartment to start setting up her furniture. I got slightly quiet after our lunch. I was still baffled that Harry had the nerve to text my best friend about me. Amy tried to lighten the mood when I was seeming to lose my focus. I would laugh it off as if nothing bothered me. As the day went on, we decided to meet up with everyone at my apartment. I wasn’t going to dress up for our night out. I was going to wear what I was already wearing. Amy had called Jason, who happily agreed to go out with us. I had told Anthony to meet us here and we would all uber back to my apartment. I figured everyone can crash here and not have to drive home. Everyone agreed with my plan and we all headed out for the night.

______________________________________________________________

We got to the bar and found a booth to share. A waitress came over and took our drink order while we all got into catching up. After a while, some of Anthony’s friends showed up and talked him into a few rounds of pool. “You okay if I play for a bit,” he asked looking at me with glossy eyes. I nodded, “Of course baby. Go have fun. I have Amy and Jason to keep me company,” I smiled to him sweetly. He leaned over and kissed my cheek before heading towards the pool tables. I was feeling a little tipsy by now anyway and I was feeling a little bit out of my thoughts. “So, Amy told me that she told you about the text. Are you okay,” Jason asked looking at me biting his bottom lip worried about my reaction.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m alright. I was just shocked really and so many questions were running through my mind. I just don’t understand why he was asking about me.” I looked to them as I took a drink of my beer. “Maybe he is feeling down like you were,” Amy suggested. “But after two months, he is reaching out to you about me,” I gave them a questioning look. “Guys take longer to process their emotions after break ups,” Jason sighed sitting back against the booth. I shrugged, “I suppose. But it’s still odd don’t you think?” They shrugged and I looked over to Anthony taking his turn in pool to drop the subject. That’s when I noticed Amy and Jason sit up in their seats with worried glances.

I looked to them, “What is it?” I asked concerned and started looking around. That’s when I saw him. Harry had walked in with his friends laughing and heading towards the bar. I quickly ducked down in the booth and looked to my friends. “Shit, what the hell is he doing here,” Jason said to us. “I don’t know. We have to hide Y/N or something,” she stated looking to Jason. “Oh yeah? How do you expect to do that with four of us here,” Jason asked getting pissed now that Harry was here. “Guys, we need to calm down for a second. We are in a local pub. Everyone is going to come here. I mean, we are bound to run into anyone and everyone. We have to just pretend we didn’t see him and just keep our distance from him. Anthony isn’t going to let him come near me if he sees Harry. I know you guys won’t either. So, act like you don’t notice him,” I whispered from my ducking position. “I’m going to sit up and pretend that we didn’t see him. Act natural,” I say as I slowly sit up in my seat and take another drink finishing off my beer.

We all tried talking about something random, while Jason would take small glances here and there in Harry’s direction. I would glance over at Anthony here and there to see if he noticed Harry. I don’t think he did because he was drunk and cutting up with his friends. The waitress that we had earlier came up to our table again. We all looked to her confused because we didn’t order anymore drinks. “Hi, this handsome guy over at the bar wanted me to bring you this beer and a note to you,” she smiled to me and placed both in front of me. I furrowed my brows and looked to Amy and Jason. “T-Thank you,” I say to the waitress and she walked off to cater to other people. I grabbed the note and slowly opened it. ‘Meet me tomorrow at the café around 9 a.m. Please? -H’.

I looked over to the bar to see Harry watching me and a small smile on his face. He did a small wave to me and I turned back to my friends. “What does it say,” Amy asked concerned. “He wants me to meet him at the café in the morning,” I say nervously. “Are you going to,” she asked looking at me worried. “You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Jason said trying to calm me down. I thought for a second. Did I want to go? Did I want to see Harry? What would we even say or talk about? Should I go? “Maybe… maybe it’s for closure. He may need closure and I know that I need closure too,” I said softly. They both sighed and looked at each other. “If that’s what you want. But how are you going to explain that to Anthony? We are all crashing at your place tonight,” Jason reminded me. Fuck. I almost forgot about that.

“Jason, would you maybe distract him in the morning when I leave? Take him out to do something. We can all leave around the same time. That way it looks normal,” I suggest. They nod and think for a minute. “I will handle getting Anthony out for the day,” he agreed. I felt a little better that he said yes to the plan. “You come straight to my apartment after you leave the café. That way if something is said or it doesn’t go well for you, Anthony won’t see,” Amy suggested. I nodded at the sound of that. It was a good plan. I reached for the beer Harry bought me and sat back thinking about tomorrow now. After a while longer, we all were ready to leave the bar. Jason called the uber while Amy and I got Anthony’s attention. Before leaving, I turned back to see Harry watching us.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, I woke up at 8 in the morning. I rolled over to see Anthony sleeping peacefully next to me. I smiled to myself and started to feel slightly guilty for meeting up with Harry. I sighed to myself and slowly got out of bed to start getting ready for the day. I took a quick shower and dried my hair throwing on some leggings and a big sweater. I decided against putting make-up on just in case today doesn’t go well. I slid on my black vans and grabbed my purse walking into the kitchen. Amy was already up with Jason in the kitchen. “Good morning,” Amy smiled to me and waved me over to her side.

I moved to her side and wrapped my arms around her. “Good morning,” I whispered. We heard some shuffling coming from my bedroom knowing it was probably Anthony getting up and getting dressed. “How are you feeling,” Amy asked softly. “I’m alright. Just sort of nervous is all,” I sigh feeling anxious all over again. “It’s going to be fine,” Jason promised as he smiled to me. Anthony then appeared out of my room with a warm smile. “Good morning guys,” he said waving to Amy and Jason. He walked towards me and pulled me into his embrace. I smiled and laid my head on his chest. I was scared to look into his eyes with all this emotion running through my body. “Where did you say we were going again Jason,” Anthony asked as he held me.

“We are going to this cool shop outside of town. I think you will really enjoy it. Some coworkers of mine were talking about it yesterday,” Jason said with a smile. “What are you two going to do while we are out,” Anthony asked me, and I finally had the courage to look at him. “I’m going to run a few errands around town while Amy waits for her mattress and couch to be delivered. Then I’m going to head over there to help her with the rest of apartment,” I smile to him feeling bad for lying only a little bit. He nodded and smiled, “Well let’s hit the road,” he smirked and kissed my forehead. We all head out the door being sure to lock up on our way out. We all say bye and head our separate ways.

As I drove towards the café, my stomach began to twist and turn. I was nervous as hell to see his face again. To just have his eyes on me. I was feeling a tad bit nauseous as I pulled into the parking lot. I scanned the parking lot for his car and finally spotted it. He wasn’t in it, so he must be inside waiting on me. I looked at the time and it was 8:50. I took a big deep breath and shut off the car heading for the café doors. I walked in and I easily spotted him in a corner booth by the window. I slowly made my way towards the booth feeling like I should just run and leave him there. But I didn’t want to be rude. Maybe this will help the both of us.

I approached the table to see a tired looking Harry. “Good morning love,” he said in a raspy tone. My heart swelled in my chest as he motioned me to sit down. I took a seat across from him and bit my bottom lip nervously. I took in his appearance from across the table. His hair was all tousled. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, and he seemed to be wearing jeans. He looked like a proper mess. “Good morning,” I say softly. “I appreciate you meeting with me. I order you tea,” he nodded to the cup in front of me. I smiled and nodded, “Thank you. Why exactly did you want to meet me?” He moved around uncomfortable in his seat for a moment. I brought the cup up to my lips and took as sip trying to let him gather his thoughts.

“I wanted to see you and maybe talk about some things,” he finally found the proper words to say. I nodded for him to continue. “I-I texted Amy about you a couple of weeks ago and she didn’t say much. Just that you were fine. Last night, I saw you and I just… I just wanted to come talk to you, but you seemed to be doing great. I didn’t want to spoil your time with your friends. So, I sent a note to the waitress and a beer for you. Hoping you would agree to meeting me,” he looked at me and then down. I sat back a little and watched him carefully. “Who was the other guy you were with,” he asked grabbing his cup to take a drink.

I looked away from our table feeling guilty again. “H-he’s my boyfriend,” I finally say and meet his eyes. They were filled with pain and something else I couldn’t quite place. “I suppose Amy told you I texted didn’t she,” he asked and shifted in his seat again this time he seemed irritated. “Yeah, she told me yesterday,” I said watching his demeaner change. He smirked a little and nodded looking in his cup of tea. “How did you… move on,” he asked softly. I felt my heart in my throat. I didn’t move on. I was just going through the motions of our break up. I was still having trouble moving on and look where that got me. I wanted to say that. But how could I?

“I-I was really bad after the break-up. Amy and Jason had to help me past it. I can’t say that I’m fully over you Harry. You and I were together for a whole year. But you decided that this is what you wanted. I didn’t want this for us. I’m curious as to why you reached out to my friends and not me,” I stated trying to hold onto my emotions. He furrowed his brows at me and then looked away. “I miss you okay? Is that what you want to hear? That’s why I asked your friends about you,” he started sounding a little hoarse now. He wasn’t giving me enough to process all of this. I sighed and took another drink.

“Do you call him baby,” he finally spoke up. I looked up at him to meet his eyes. “What,” I asked looking at him confused by his question. “Do you call him what you used to call me? Have you met his parents yet,” he asked again as his eyes glazed over with tears and jealously. “Harry,” I said to him sternly. “I miss you and I still love you. I shouldn’t have let you go. I know that’s selfish of me, but I don’t know how to be without you,” he choked out and a tear slid down his face. I was baffled by his mood swings. I felt my heart clench in my chest and the tears welling up in my eyes. I looked away from him trying to hold it all together. “Y-you’re right… it is selfish of you to ask those things Harry. But you chose this. You wanted this. I didn’t… remember that. I have to go… I can’t do this right now…,” I said trying to gather my things from the booth with tears spilling out.

“Do you love him,” he asked stopping me and I looked over at him sniffling. “It’s been two months Harry… no I don’t… But doesn’t he deserve a chance,” I asked feeling my heart break at admitting I didn’t love Anthony. Harry sighed and sniffled nodding, “If you had to choose… Me or Him,” he asked again. I felt my breath hitch in my throat and I couldn’t swallow it down. “I-I…,” I couldn’t find the words anymore. “You don’t have to decide now… but please text me or call me as soon as you do…,” he spoke with tears still rolling out of his eyes. I looked at him one last time and stormed out of the café. I was sobbing now. I ran to my car and slammed the door shut. I started screaming and hitting the streeling wheel. Finally, I just rested my head against the wheel. How could he make me choose? Why did he do that?

I gathered myself enough to text Amy and start driving. It was silent in the car. Just me and every word spoken at the café between Harry and I. As I got to Amy’s apartment, my body felt numb and tears were still rolling down my face. I didn’t even need to knock on her door to let me in. She was waiting for me and pacing as I approached her apartment. “Y/N? Oh my god,” she pulled me into a tight hug and I just broke down again. She gently pulled me inside her apartment and sat me down on the couch. “What happened,” she asked as she held me in her arms. “H-he… he asked me questions about Anthony… he asked me to choose between them Amy… I don’t know what to do,” I said looking to her.

She sighed and looked down thinking for a moment. “Do you love Harry,” she asked me directly. I thought for a moment in hopes I wouldn’t be judged for my answer. “Y-yes…,” I whispered. “Do you love Anthony,” she asked and watched for a moment. I shook my head no unable to say the words a loud. “What does your heart want Y/N,” she asked and all I could think about was how Harry looked this morning. How he looked last night at the bar. My heart began to melt and my tears flowed. “Then it’s him Y/N… It’s Harry… and that’s okay… if it’s meant to be then maybe this is why it all happened this way. You need to tell Anthony and you need to tell Harry…,” she spoke softly and I nodded. “Can I just cry for a little while,” I asked laying my head down on her lap. “Yes,” she whispered combing my hair with her fingers. I laid there feeling a weight being lifted off my shoulders. It was Harry… it was always Harry.

#Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry smut #Fineline #fine line #cherry #harry styles preferences #harry fluff #sad #sad story #harry x reader #harry x y/n

49 notes · View notes

docholligay · 3 years

Text

Divided by Four: Eighteen

Basic training would begin in three weeks, and she had been bouncing about in anticipation, but for the time being, Lena Oxton, who was kicking around what she thought her callsign might be, was still a civilian pilot, walking around the tiny little plane she shared with at five other people and afforded with her hours collecting glasses and washing up Saturdays and weeknights at the pub.

It helped that the other five were also Oxtons, and so Lena was expected to pay a fair share if not necessarily an equal one.

It was not an impressive plane, she supposed, as she crouched by the landing gear, tightening a bolt, but she loved it nonetheless. It was only a little Cessna that wanted a bit of a new paint job and had nothing to recommend itself in the field of agility, but any blemishes against it were removed the moment she got it in the air. On the ground, she might have dreamed about owning something more along the lines of a Piper, or a Cirrus, depending on the direction she wanted to go, but Lena found that once she was in the air, her favorite plane was the plane she was currently flying.

Which didn’t make her any less enthusiastic for the sort of planes she would fly in the RAF.

Her mother had been a squadron leader during the crisis, and her dad was a decorated pilot, and she had the Oxton name behind her, which would either give the instructors confidence in her or make them twice as hard on her.

Well, they could be twice as hard on her if they wanted. She was twice as good, and she knew it. She was born under a lucky star, and had the near-misses to prove it.

“So you think you’ll get into fast-jet school?” Her dad walked around the side of the plane, running a hand across the tail to check it as he did so.

“Oh, so you doubt me now?” Lena laughed and sprung to her feet, tossing the wrench from one hand to the other. “If I don’t, it’s you who taught me to fly, so doesn’t say much for you.”

Bert chuckled. “No, I’d suppose it doesn’t. MIght be a bit too short, eh?”

“‘Ave you know I am the exact minimum ‘eight required, I am.” She held herself straight. “Checked just this morning.”

Bert studied the edge of the window and smile. ‘Be sure you stand up straight.”

Lena looked at him for a moment. “Dad,” she waited for him to look at her, “Do you not want me to go?”

He looked at her for a long moment, scratched the back of his head, and put his hands on hips. “Lena--”

“Because I’m going any’ow. I love you, but I am going.”

Lena and her dad had been--well, it wasn’t fair to say on their own in a family like the Oxtons, but without a mum certainly--since Lena was six years old, and mum had died. She was an only child, and he hadn’t even thought of dating until Lena herself started two years ago. It was, of course, difficult in bits, but all lives were difficult in some way, and Lena knew of no one else as close to any parent as she was. They’d spent years taking care of each other and confiding in each other, and though she never would have said so, there was a part of her that wasn’t anxious to leave, either. Her father had promised to take care of her, when her mum has died. To keep her safe. He’d dragged himself up from his own grief, and done it, and because they had learned love could be lost so easily, they rarely took the other for granted.

So nothing was all bad, really.

“I want you to go,” he sighed, and chuckled, ”Just wait till it’s you ‘alf past forty--”

Lena scoffed. “I’m never going to be forty--”

“Lena, please don’t say that.” She looked at his face, darkly serious, “Dangerous work, and I know that, know it better than most, but I lie awake nights quite enough without ‘aving your morbid premonitions about your own demise, love. Lost your mum, lost me sister, so could you please, as a personal favor, resolve to outlive your old dad?”

“I was only ‘aving a go,” Lena tossed the wrench into the box, “Been talking to Parvati, ‘aven’t you? Can’t keep anything a bloody secret in this family, can I? You know, me entire bloody life I’ve been told, “She put her hands on her hips and tossed her head, “Lena, you fly like someone aiming to be no one’s nan,” and that’s all right, innit, but if I make a bloody joke about it--”

Bert shoved a clumsily wrapped box at her. “Happy birthday love. Please shut up and tell me you’ll be careful. Lie to me, if you must, though I’d prefer it to be the truth.”

“I’ll be careful, Dad.” She smiled as she took the package, “Almost forgot it was me birthday.”

“Ruddy terrible liar, you are.” He sat down on a metal box at the edge of the hangar. “Just ‘ave to keep ‘oping your skill is as good as you seem to think it is.”

“One day,” she nodded at him a finger under the paper, ready to open it, “I will be the best pilot in the world. Going to work for Overwatch, I am, you just watch.”

“That’s as may be, love, and I wish you all the luck, but it don’t change me concerns whether you’re wearing a roundel or a...whatever they’d call it. I suppose it’s a roundel of a sort, as well, innit? Well, you understand me.”

Lena started to open the package. “I understand you’re a nervous old wo--Dad.”

What she held in her hand was not, as a rule, very impressive. A small pair of aviators, rose gold on the frames, a few stray scratches across the lenses. You might have found them in a bin at any charity shop, a few pounds for the pair of them.

“You won’t want to use them for flying, of course, too beat up for that safely, not made for the sort of acrobatics you get up besides, but I thought you should ‘ave them.” He chuckled, “What good are they doing me?”

Lena turned them over in her hand. For as long as she could remember, this pair of sunglasses had sat on the one of the shelves in her house, next to a photo of her mother and father in their flight suits from the crisis. Lena looked back to him.

“You sure?”

“Didn’t want to give you ‘er jacket, as you should ‘ave your own, right? Course anything of ‘ers you want is yours, far as I’m concerned, so you can ‘ave it as well, but--”he smiled sadly, ‘She would be so proud of you. You’re a brilliant pilot, Lena, really you are. You are the best daughter we could ‘ave ‘oped for. ‘Appy birthday, love.”

She sat down next to him, still looking at the glasses. “I’ll outlive you, promise.”

He shook his head. “Don’t think about it in the air. Makes you a poor pilot, given what we do. Can’t think about who’s waiting for you on the ground. You know that.” He chuckled. ‘I should know that.” He grinned and slapped her knee, “I do ‘ave presents for you beyond some of your mum’s old rubbish. Eighteen! Properly an adult. Be wanting a place of your own soon, I’m sure.”

She saw her reflection in the glasses. Eighteen years felt like so many. Forty would be twenty two more. What was a year, here and there, whatever her father said about it?

“Not if don’t you want me to go.” She smiled. “Moving’s a chore, only coming ‘ome every so often any’ow. If you’ll ‘ave me.”

“As long as you’d like.”

When she was older, sometimes Lena would wonder what might have happened if she’d gotten married while her father was alive. If they simply would have swapped bedrooms and kept on with the easy rhythm of their domestic arrangement. The older she got, the more pleasant it sounded to her. But of course, they would never know, because Lena kept her promise, though Bert never got to know that. Life has a dark sense of humor that way.

She remembered that promise, in the shifting static of time. How it had been her birthday, but her father’s wish. How, at the time, eighteen had seemed like so many years.

So many.

6 notes · View notes

fuzzyporcupine · 3 years

Text

lead me with your hands tied | chapter 3

chapters:

1 - 2 - 3

summary:

In the midst of a crumbling kingdom at war, Levi Ackerman is commissioned by King Jaeger to paint a portrait of his overzealous son.

chapter 3:

The dining room he had been ushered into was extravagant, if not slightly small. Levi said as much, curious as to how the king managed to entertain his multitude of guests in such an enclosed area.

“That’s what the great hall is for, sir,” Petra answered as if it were obvious, and maybe it was to the rich nobles who frequented the king’s presence. But regardless of what the castle staff was led to believe, he’d never made merry with the clients who commissioned his work. It was always a job and nothing more. Often, he didn’t even share more than a few words with the nobles, those typically being instructions to move their leg forward, hold their head higher, or keep still goddammit.

The housekeeper was typically his point of contact during all his projects, and until Petra mentioned dinner, he was fairly certain it would stay that way. Of course, he knew that it would be expected for him to eventually meet the king and present the artwork - but the pleasantries of having dinner… this was new to him.

“His Majesty will be arriving shortly, sir. Please make yourself comfortable.” The stiffness in Petra’s tone was still evident even after their long walk from the studio. She didn’t bother with keeping up appearances this time, skipping her courtesy altogether as she hastily exited the room. Levi silently cursed himself, hoping that upon Petra’s leave an armed guard wouldn’t be arriving to charge him with treason. He had to be more mindful. This was a dangerous place to show discontent, regardless of the intentions.

His palms had become damp with sweat, and Levi grimaced as he wiped the excess moisture off onto his beige breeches.

The sound of boots clicking against the wooden floors echoed loudly within the confines of the small room as Levi ventured closer to the table and chairs positioned in the middle of the chamber. A crystal chandelier hung delicately above the table, white gems glittering brilliantly in the orange radiance of dusk filtering in through the large windows. There were too many crystals to count as Levi tried to estimate how much the almost entirely useless decoration was probably worth.

Enough to feed the surrounding villages for months - no, years, he thought bitterly.

“It’s beautiful, no?” The deep voice caused his shoulders to twitch upward. He turned on his heel, breath held deep in his chest and ready to face the worst. The man standing before him was not who he expected - tall and broad-shouldered with striking blue eyes. Most importantly, though, the man was definitely not the king. The lack of a crown placed upon his blonde hair was evidence enough. “It was a gift for the queen. Two years before her passing, rest her soul.” His eyes roved suspiciously down the man’s face, widened when he observed the attire the man was wearing. The dark green cotton pulled tight across the man’s chest with gleaming silver buttons, a bright, yellow epaulet fashioning his left shoulder.

Military, Levi reasoned as a chill traveled darkly down his spine. He would be able to spot one of the uniforms from a hundred yards away if given the chance. Would never forget a single detail of the men who brought so much destruction into his life. He suddenly felt sick, head filling with seemingly millions of images of fires and screaming and-

“Are you well, sir?” This shitting bastard, Levi thought as he grit his teeth.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, hands reaching out blindly for something to steady him. God, it felt as if he had fallen right back into that place once again. Swept up by the ash of the burning buildings and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“You look deathly. I’ll fetch Ms. Ral.”

“I’m quite alright, dammit,” Levi bit out between clenched teeth, grip finally connecting with the top rail of a chair. The world was fading back into view now. What was once plumes of smoke and burning embers melted away to reveal the shiny sheen of the mahogany table. “I’m fine,” he said again, more to reassure himself than the blonde bastard who was quirking an impressive eyebrow at his display.

The other man breathed in heavily through his nose. “Quite,” he agreed. Levi didn’t miss the sardonic edge to the man’s voice as he pulled a chair out far enough from the table to slide into the velvet seat. His grip tightened on the top rail. Wanted to lift the object into the air and use it to break the goddamned whoreson’s neck. Instead, he followed the man’s lead and shakily entered his own seat at the table. A stale silence filled the air, one that Levi was most certainly not going to break. He was perfectly content with brewing in the solitude until the king arrived. His company, however, seemed to have other plans.

“So, you must be the artist the king commissioned,” the man started. Levi looked up, blinking, only to find the man staring intently at him. It was offputting, the way the man seemed to glare straight into the backs of his eyes as if Levi were an open book ripe for the taking. Had his lip twitching in annoyance as his fingers began to chatter against the smooth surface in front of him.

“I am,” he answered plainly.

“Hmm,” the man leaned back into his seat, a smirk cracking the corner of his lips. “Then it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ackerman.” Thick arms crossed over the man’s chest. “I hope your stay has been pleasurable so far?”

“Incredibly.” Where was this damned king?

“Are you nervous, Mr. Ackerman?” Suddenly, the air felt as if it had been sucked clean from his lungs. Fingers stilled against the table as Levi regarded the man.

“What did you say?” He tried not to let his voice shake. Levi had a creeping superstition that the man sitting across from him was analyzing his every octave.

“A mere observation, Mr. Ackerman,” the man shrugged. “You look as if you’d rather be locked in a cage with an angry bear than preparing to feast with Your Majesty.” If Levi had feathers, he’d be ruffling them. And the man- damn him - the man knew it. Bloody hell, he needed a drink.

“Maybe you are simply being too presumptive, sir.”

“General,” the man corrected with a grin. “General Erwin Smith.”

“General Smith,” he tested the name on his tongue and decided it tasted exactly like ash.

“Well, I’m sure you’re weary from the long journey. I hear you traveled from Mitras?”

Levi scoffed, growing frustrated with the man’s badgering, “And we sang songs about taking a merry shit all the way here.”

Erwin opened his mouth to undoubtedly ask Levi another infuriating question when the entrance to the dining room was abruptly pulled open. The general promptly pushed forward out of his chair to stand, and Levi followed to do the same. Two soldiers passed through the door first, immediately taking their place on either side of the entrance as they faced forward, looking ahead. Levi’s stomach dropped as he watched the next figure emerge into the room.

Dressed in fine white robes and golden jewels, the king exuded royalty. The crown, in all its glimmering glory, nestled atop inky locks that curved comfortably along the king’s shoulders. As the entrance closed quietly behind the man, another opened, ushering in half a dozen servants carrying trays of various sizes. One who had appeared empty-handed quickly moved to pull the chair back for the king. The servant couldn’t have been older than ten, and Levi soberly wondered how many more children were hidden behind the stone walls of the castle serving the monarch. Once the king was seated, Erwin followed suit as did Levi. He assumed the general knew the correct protocol to follow in the presence of royalty. Going off blind faith wasn’t ideal, especially faith being entrusted in a scheming military man. But unfortunately, Levi had no experience in dining with the ruler of a kingdom.

The dishes were placed accordingly onto the table once everyone settled. The food, Levi had to admit, smelled wonderful, and it caused his stomach to grumble impatiently. Perhaps he was more famished than he thought.

“Fetch the wine,” the king demanded, waving his hand absentmindedly. One of the servants scurried off through the door, quickly returning with a large pitcher. Levi’s chalice was filled soon after the king’s, the dark red liquid threatening to spill over the rim. “That is all. Leave us.” And with the command, the servants vanished as swiftly as they had appeared. The king took a large swig of the wine, smacking his lips as his gaze turned towards Levi. “I take it your journey wasn’t too arduous, painter?”

Levi swallowed thickly, “No, Your Majesty. It was most pleasant.” The words sounded alien leaving his lips. A complete fraud of what he truly wanted to tell the treacherous snake.

“And apparently filled with festive song, Your Majesty,” Erwin added, throwing a knowing smirk in Levi’s direction. If looks could kill, he thought.

The king grinned none the wiser, teeth shining beneath a thin mustache. “Ah, a musician and a painter! I’m sure the coachman was thoroughly amused by your antics. Speaking of, Erwin, did the coachman bring any news from Mitras?”

“Some villagers attempting to build a militia. Nothing the guard couldn’t snuff out, Your Majesty.” Levi’s mouth went dry. He knew those villagers. Fucking morons the lot of them, always blubbering in the pub about their plans to make the Jaegers pay for what they’d done. Levi didn’t think they would have the balls to actually make good on the schemes. Now, they were all probably dead or worse.

“Good riddance. Rotting vermin the lot of them,” the king surmised as he began to fill his plate. “The sooner these revolts cease, the sooner we can focus on the true enemy.”

“Agreed, Your Majesty,” Erwin said, raising his chalice in assent. “To the glorious King Jaeger. May he quickly vanquish the Marleyan devil.” Levi’s hunger abruptly morphed into sickly nausea. The smells of a once mouth-watering feast now stinking of charred bodies and burning flesh.

You’re pathetic, a voice whispered to him. Making merry with the man who had us killed.

“No,” he whispered.

And suddenly, the voice was gone, leaving him in the dead silence of a room full of enemies. The two men had stopped their toast, now leering suspiciously at Levi. The jovial expression that had previously shaped the king’s face was now replaced with a narrowed brow and a curled upper lip.

“No,” he repeated again, conviction lacing his voice. The king was standing now, shoulders hunched and fists forming at his sides. With a slightly shaking hand, Levi wrapped his palm around the handle of his chalice and lifted it into the air. “May he defeat all the devils.” Levi watched as Erwin’s eyes closed heavily in relief, the man obviously not wanting the meal to be spoiled by an impromptu execution. The king sank back into the chair, his face contorting back into that fictional illusion of happiness. Levi met Erwin’s reawakened gaze as he spoke, “Death to the pigs.”

“Death to the pigs,” Erwin repeated.

Just as he’d raised his drink to his lips to commemorate the toast, the dining room door was swung open with a loud bang.

“Sire, please!” He faintly heard Petra’s pleading, the sound growing increasingly more desperate the closer the footsteps got. “You are in no state!”

“Let go of me, you damned woman!” The two guards posted at the entrance curiously peeked around the edge of the door frame only to quickly turn their focus back to their fronts.

“Shall I go assist Ms. Ral, Your Majesty?” Erwin asked nonchalantly as he cut into his venison.

“No, no. Thank you, Erwin, but I want the painter to see for himself the challenge he will be facing.” Levi was used to challenges. Hell, all of his commissions provided some sort of unforeseen difficulty that he had to work around. Surely, the spoiled brat of a prince would only be one more slight opposition that needed conquering.

The prince stumbled through the doors ungracefully, dressed in nothing but a pair of cream stockings and a simple white tunic. The man looked manic, long brunette locks tousled and tangled around the angles of his face. Large emerald eyes alight, all fire and anger as he regarded the trio. This was who he would be tasked with capturing. The wayward prince, Eren Jaeger.

“Your Majesty, I apologize!” Petra’s arms were flailing as she rushed into the dining room. “I have tried to tell the young Majesty that he was not-”

“Silence!” the prince yelled. Petra’s mouth snapped close. “I want to speak to my father, and I’ll bloody well do so with or without your approval.” The woman looked helplessly at the king, begging for some direction. When he granted her a silent nod, she gave the room a quick bow before making a swift exit.

“Well, my son, what causes you such dismay that you grace us in your undergarments?”

Levi watched as the prince’s fists clenched. “I’m in no mood to jest, father.”

“Nor am I, my son. Yet you appear in front of me as if there is some cruel joke of which I do not know its point.” Eren threw up his arms in disbelief, a humorless chuckle falling off his full lips.

“The only joke is your choice to recruit Jean into serving in your ill-conceived military unit.” Eren took several threatening steps closer.

“The Kirstein boy? Your whoring and drinking pal? Ha! Maybe I do understand the purpose of this quip after all.” If possible, the prince’s brow furrowed even further. Levi did not understand the meaning of the display, couldn’t fathom why the king would allow the heir to the throne to embarrass himself like this. To prove the youngest Jaeger’s temper didn’t fall far on the family tree? Perhaps.

“You laugh, old man, but you forget that his father is a duke. He is no mere peasant whose life you can expend so easily.” Levi’s eye twitched at that. To think that one human life was worth so much more than another. That a title and a plot of land made you invulnerable to the laws of mankind. How very fucking naïve.

“And you forget your place, my son.” The king stood from his chair. “You have not only embarrassed yourself in front of General Smith but the painter I so humbly commissioned to render your likeness. Should he start now? Display a fine portrait of you in your stockings in the grand hall?”

The man’s face reddened. “You…” Eren fumbled with his words, glancing between his father and Levi. “You… argh!” In a huff, the prince stomped angrily out of the dining room, throwing the door closed with a resolute smack. Levi was left gazing wide-eyed at the entrance, anxiously anticipating for the moment when the vexed prince would throw the door back open to began the argument anew.

“Well, painter, what do you think? Still up to the challenge?” the king questioned.

Levi pondered his answer for a moment. Now seemed like a perfectly reasonable time to take that drink. So, he did just that, allowing the wine to slide down his throat before addressing the king. “When do I begin, Your Majesty?”

#snk #ereri #shingeki no kyojin #fic: lead me with your hands tied #ereri fanfic #riren #aot #attack on titan #eren jaeger #levi ackerman

14 notes · View notes

criquette-was-here · 3 years

Text

Replies

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette! I love your work and tutorials, in fact, you taught me how to make hood deco buildings light up at night! However, I'm having an issue with the transparency. The day window texture and the main building textures have a transparent gap between them even though they line up perfectly in the image program and GMND preview. Do you know what may be causing this?

Hey anon! Thank you! I’m glad you’ve managed to get your decorations light up at night. As for the gap, sometimes, if a material has ‘alphatest enabled’ on ‘1′ it can interpret almost opaque (i.e. transparency at 50-70%) areas of the texture as fully transparent. Alphatest renders transparency strictly as true/false, or 1/0. I would recommend to turn alphatest off (set to ‘0′) and if you still need to have transparency in your day windows texture, make it work with ‘blend mode: blend’.

@saralynnx said:

I'm just in total awe right now. Feverfew completely blew all of my expectations out of the water, and is a prime example of 'TS3 and TS4 could never!' I seriously feel bad for people who are no longer active in the TS2 community for missing out on this masterpiece.

Oh, thank you Sara! Well, this game can wait (i’ve had a break for six years myself) and if someone decides to get back to TS2, Feverfew will be available :)

Anonymous said:

Any chances you could upload just the sc4 terrain for Feverfew?

Oh, dear anon. There’s no point in doing that. Because the unedited map for thins neighborhood looks like this:

You can still have the Vervainwort SC4 map instead, which makes definitely more sense.

Anonymous said:

Omg I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mind the look of it I just thought I did something wrong! Good to know I’m set. Thank you for replying I know you’re being inundated with messages! Bless!

Not to worry, anon! Happy simming :)

@impassingoveryou said:

Had to chuckle a bit at Mr. Bean‘s car. I didn‘t even notice it until my brother casually walked past me and pointed it out. Was that supposed to be an easter egg? :D

Well, I did show some WIP pics of this little car earlier. Not sure about an easter egg, but it’s definitely a mention :) As for the easter eggs, there’s one and it’s not related to mr. Bean ;)

Anonymous said:

Hi, thank you for Feverfew! I don't have a computer at the moment, so I can't dowload it and wander around in it like I want to, but I already love it just from the pictures. Just curious, are there spaces/suitable terrain for beach lots in Feverfew? I have a couple of ideas for beach lots and was wondering if I can fit them into Feverview.

Hi anon! There’s literally one single beach lot in Feverfew and it has a pub so you’ll have to make it over :)

@veetiesims2 said:

As a detail-crazy worldbuilder I really admire all the work you did on Feverfew. It's not my usual style but it reminds me so much of the village of my childhood that I think I'll adopt it as a side hood! Thanks <3

Ah, thank you Veetie! I’m so glad that so many people see Feverfew this way. I didn’t grew up in a town like this myself, but I really fell in love with small British towns and villages, so it was really something I wanted to try and recreate in-game.

Anonymous said:

This might be dramatic but I literally teared up when I opened up your neighborhood. I wish I was so detail oriented. Your screenshots did not do it justice because W O W

Ahh, thanks anon! Yes, Feverfew looks better in-game than on screenshots ^__^”

@ankapartizankaniko said:

Criquette, you're amazing! and your city is amazing! Thank you for a cool gift for the new year. Now I don't want to finish building my city ;)

Oh, please do finish it! :D You’re most welcome @ankapartizankaniko and Happy New Year!

Anonymous said:

Hi, I saw a YouTube-video about Feverfew, and there was this river-piece neighborhood deco. Would it be possible to share that piece separately? I love Feverfew, but I play medieval, so I can not use whole hood, but that river hood deco would be perfect!

Hello anon! You can download the whole thing, take the ‘FeverfewHoodCC’ folder and put it into your downloads folder without installing the whole thing. All the hood decorations, including river pieces, will appear as usual under ‘landmark’ and ‘misc’ submenu.

@pleasant-lives said:

I was watching the video review of Feverfew and I just kept thinking: I wish we had an open world in ts2! It’s so pretty and detailed, I am amazed

Yes, an open world in TS2 would be nice. But frankly, I’m quite satisfied with the one we have :)

Anonymous said:

2) or, e.g. is it possible to create a default replacement of impostor textures for a lot... by putting its custom textures in a separate package... which would override, upon each load of the game, those textures that game generates after each save? i've never done DRs myself so all of the above is probably nonsense, and even if it's possible it's too much work anyway... but i was mostly just wondering what your thoughts on this topic are. p.s. great worldbuilding in the Feverfew story mode! :)

Is it me, or the first bit is lost somewhere? :D Well, lot imposters work a bit different comparing to usual CC. Although there’s still left some place for experiments and who knows, may be at some point we will be able to improve them somehow!

#replies #pleasant-lives #ankapartizankaniko #veetiesims2 #impassingoveryou #saralynnx

21 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 3 years

Text

Chapter 79 - SBT

Here it is!

The sun was starting to set and Lucien set his foot on the ground as he braked at a red light. He felt Mundy brush his sides and smiled.

To the outside world, they looked like two friends on a ride between point A and point B. But to themselves, it was immensely different. They were not only travelling through a few streets together. It was their entire life that they wanted to spend as close as they were on that black motorcycle with dark red reflections.

The traffic light went from red to green and the engine roared. They flew through the streets fluidly, effortlessly. Lucien proved to be an excellent bike rider, prudent and efficient. After an enjoyable ride, the Frenchman stopped the motorcycle and hopped off.

Lucien and Mundy removed their helmets.

"Here we are." He said.

"Oh…?" Mundy looked at what stood in front of him. He was surprised. He genuinely didn't expect Lucien to take him to a… pub.

"Close your jaw, mon loup." Lucien chuckled.

[My wolf]

"Well, I'd never have expected that from you. You don't look like the pub type!" Mundy answered.

"Such a lot of things you assume about me…! Come."

They entered and both were hit with a smell that Mundy hadn't experienced in more than a year. It smelt of beer, hop and the different and subtle flavours of the beers they create. The visual atmosphere was very cosy too. The pub had off-white painted walls that had turned more yellowish with the years. Large, dark brown beams of wood shot from the ground to the quite low ceiling and above people's heads, more of those same slightly curvy logs decorated the ceiling. The lights were yellow, almost orange and people's chattering wrapped them in a crowded kind of intimacy, paradoxically enough.

Lucien went to the counter and placed an order while Mundy was trying to spot an empty table, preferably far from other people. But the establishment was quite busy. On the television, a rugby game was broadcast and the sports enthusiasts had gathered to support their team around a pint or two.

"Mundy?"

"Huh?"

"Let us find a seat."

"Right."

They walked through the pub, slithering through people, zigzagging around the tables until they met a flight of stairs.

"Let us try upstairs."

"Ok."

The upstairs area had the same kind of atmosphere and was as crowded as below.

"Here, a table." Lucien headed to it and put the two beers down. Mundy took a seat opposite him.

"Thanks, love."

"My pleasure."

They were in a corner, there was a lamp on the wall next to them.

"What is it?" Mundy asked, pointing at the beer.

"A favourite of mine, Belgian." Lucien answered.

"Right." Mundy took his glass and they both raised their own.

"To us." Lucien said.

"To you and me." Mundy answered before they tipped their beers and took a good swig of it. "Mh…"

"What do you think?" Lucien asked.

"Not bad, and quite light too."

"In alcohol, oui, but not in flavour."

"You're right. I like the taste." Mundy said and they drank more of it. "I didn't know you liked beer, eh?"

"I do, sometimes. It has been years since the last one I drank, especially in such good company." He winked at his lover who blushed. "So, tell me about yourself."

"What?" Mundy asked with a chuckle.

"This is a date, Mundy."

"Isn't it a bit late for that?" Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe." Lucien smirked. "But please, do not ruin my date with the man that I keep in my thoughts at all times. And tell me…"

"Pff…" Mundy laughed. "Alright then, what d'you wanna know?"

Lucien’s eyes shone beautifully under the yellow and warm light of the lamp.

"Everything, obviously."

"That's… That's quite a bit, eh?"

"I believe so, but indulge me, please." Lucien rested his elbows on the table and his chin on his palms, his eyes were half-closed.

"Right, so, uh… I'm… I'm Mundy, I'm a bloke and uh, I'm a hunter."

"Mh-hm." Lucien smiled.

"I'm… Close to forty now and… I don't know what to say, eh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Tell me about your taste in beer for instance."

"Well, this one's good, but not as good as the one I usually get." Mundy answered.

"Then, the next one is on you." Lucien answered and they both drank more.

"Ok, whenever we're done with this one… What else d'you wanna know?"

"What is your favourite genre of music?" Lucien asked.

"I've changed quite a bit through the years but recently…? Uh…"

"Oui, recently."

"Old French songs." Mundy looked away and lowered his eyes. "'Specially when you sing them."

Lucien sighed with the widest smile.

"But I understand you don't wanna sing anymore?" Mundy asked.

"To be honest, it depends." Lucien took a sip. "I do not wish to sing like I have been in this country, as a pretext, an excuse to get close to a man that I have to kill. I don't want that anymore."

"Does that mean you'd be ok to sing again?"

"For you?" Lucien raised his eyes and tilted his head on the side. "Anytime, and any song."

Mundy melted in a sweet smile as the rugby fans cheered. Their racket wrapped them such that no one was noticing Lucien's hand sliding to Mundy on the table.

"Our glasses are empty, you can go and order the next round."

"Oh, yeah, sure, gimme a minute."

Lucien's eyes went to the television screen not far and he lazily followed the match for a moment until a perfume broke his daydreaming.

"You are fast." Lucien said.

"Didn't wanna go away from my date for too long, eh."

They smiled to each other.

"Your turn now." Mundy put the beers on the table and resumed his seat in front of Lucien. "Try this one and tell me what you think of it."

Lucien raised his glass.

"To you."

"To you, too." Mundy answered.

They tipped their glasses and took a generous swig.

"Almost bitter in the end, I like this aftertaste." Lucien said as he put his glass down.

"Yeah, catches you by surprise, eh?"

"Indeed!" The Frenchman said. "And very refreshing, almost fruity."

"Yeah, I like it cause it's fruity without the sugar." Mundy answered.

"Oh, I knew you don't like your men sweet, but I see this also applies to your beers."

"What? You're very sweet." Mundy protested.

"Sometimes, and only with you." Lucien answered, raising his glass to his lips.

"That's not true."

Lucien gulped down the beer and his eyebrows jumped.

"I saw you with Pearl. Since the first day I met her. You're very soft. You just don't show it to people."

"Isn't it the same with you?"

"Heh, guess so. But go on, tell me about you now."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Lucien shook his head with a smug smile.

"What?"

"This was my strategy, wild hunter, what is yours?"

"Can't I use the same?"

"Non, where would be the fun in that?" Lucien chuckled and drank more. "Humour me."

"Alright, I'll think of something… Hm…"

Mundy looked at his glass of beer. The bubbles slowly raced each other to the top, through the golden and transparent beverage. He could see Lucien's distorted index tapping on the table through the glass. It looked like each tap made a group of bubbles jump to the froth of the beer. The Aussie took a swig.

"Mundy?"

"Hold on, I'm still thinkin'."

"Non, not that, look up." Mundy raised his eyes to Lucien who raised his thumb and wiped the Aussie's upper lip.

"What-?!" Mundy's pupils blew up wide.

Lucien licked his finger.

"The foam." He answered.

"Ooh, sorry, didn't feel anything."

"It is fine."

And suddenly, Mundy had it. He had the idea.

"How d'you do it?" He asked.

"What? Wipe the beer of your lip? I would lick it directly if we were not surrounded by so many people." Lucien answered, cocking an eyebrow.

"N-no…" Mundy's thighs tensed under the table. "I meant… How d'you… How are you so… like that?"

"Like what?" Lucien asked.

"Well, y'know… You always know what to do to make me blush and-and I can't keep my eyes on you cause you're… You're impressive."

Lucien tilted his head on the side.

"I mean… You're always so… sexy." Mundy added, with a slight, nervous chuckle.

"Am I?" Lucien pushed his luck.

"Yeah! And it looks easy, almost natural to you! I-it's insane! How d'you do it?"

The Frenchman chuckled.

"A bit of confidence and a pinch of charm." He answered.

"Gosh… Even right now you're-!"

"Evenin', gents, you done with the beers?" A waiter interrupted them.

"Yes, we are, thank you." Lucien answered and the man took the empty glasses away.

"Anythin' else for the gents?"

"Your turn, Lu', you choose." Mundy answered.

"What kind of wines do you have?" He asked.

"Here's the list." The waiter gave Lucien a wine menu. "I'll give you a second and be right back."

"It won't be necessary." Lucien's eyes were scanning the names of the château, the years and the locations at the speed of light. "We will have a Graves 1954, please."

"Oh, alright. A glass or-?"

"Non, a bottle, to share."

"Noted, I'll be back in a second."

Lucien and Mundy nodded and the waiter disappeared.

"I think this date is going pretty well, what do you feel?" Lucien asked.

The rugby enthusiasts cheered loudly for a few seconds again before the relative calm came back.

"Y-yeah… I don't really know… I don't do dates." Mundy answered.

"Il y a un début à tout."

"What?"

"There is a beginning to everything. It is a French saying. But have you never been on a date before?"

"Not really. I mean. It never felt like it."

The waiter came back with the wine and two glasses. He was about to uncork the dark green bottle when Lucien raised a hand.

"Please."

"Oh, sure." The waiter nodded and handed him the corkscrew.

"Non, merci, you may leave us."

"As you wish."

The waiter went away and Mundy frowned, curious. Lucien took a blade out of his inner pocket and grabbed the bottle in his hand.

"We normally do it with champagne and a sword, but I can do it with wine and a knife."

"Do what?"

"This."

Lucien swiftly slid the knife along the curve of the bottle. It caught the cork and the latter flew away.

"What the-?!"

The Frenchman took the bottle to his nose and sniffed gently, closing his eyes.

"Aah…" He exhaled with a smile. He opened his eyes and poured the wine in Mundy's glass before helping himself.

"Holy dooley…"

"Impressed?"

"Yeah! Can't you just open it normally?"

"I could have. But I want to impress my date." Lucien answered as he raised his glass to Mundy, with a soft grin.

"You'll have to teach me that, eh." Mundy raised his glass too.

"With pleasure."

Their glasses met with a high-pitched sound and they both took a sip.

"Mmh, it's a good one. Quite earthy, not too strong though." Mundy said, staring at the Burgundy liquid.

"Indeed. I have a weakness for this château."

"I can see why, eh."

"Mundy."

"Yeah?"

"It was produced where I come from."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"Really?"

"Oui. The private school I attended was named École des Graves, 'School of Graves'. It was named after the château because it was right next to the vineyards. From the classrooms, I remember seeing the vines lay for as far as the eye could see."

"Oh, woah… What does it look like?"

"Neatly arranged lines of green during spring. In summer, the grapes start appearing and you can see the black fruits hanging from the branches. Then, come autumn, it is the time for the vendange."

"The what?" Mundy poured more wine for him and his date.

"It is the word we use for the picking up of the grapes." Lucien drank more.

Both of them started to feel the effect of the alcohol slowly untying their tongues, relaxing them and their mood went more cheerful.

"You have a word just for that?"

"Oui." Lucien chuckled. "It is such a big part of our culture and economy that there is a dedicated word for it."

"Right…"

"And in winter, in some regions they start serving the early wine from that same year."

"Really? Doesn't it need to stay in barrels longer?"

"It does, but it is a tradition, a bit of a festival to celebrate the new wine. It usually doesn't taste very good but the spirit is what counts."

"Oh, I see…"

"Back in the Ministry, they would organise it too. They would have some bottles sent from the regions where this new wine is made and we would all enjoy it in the canteen for lunch."

"Crikey… and then everyone's drunk in the afternoon, eh? What's it like being a drunk spook?" Mundy chuckled.

"Mundy, this is not how it works." Lucien joined him in his soft laughter.

"You get your fancy arse drunk and go to work, putting your balala-mask thingy upside down, wrappin' yer tie on your head like a bloody bandana! And off to save the world!"

Both burst out laughing.

"Non, Mundy! We would not get drunk off of a glass of it!"

"Then you go around, sneakin' in yer fancy tuxedo, doin' whatever spooky business you've been sent off to do!"

Lucien couldn't stop laughing and caught his breath in short snorts. Mundy's ears pricked up and he looked at Lucien with surprised eyes.

"Listen to your laugh, now that's something I didn't expect, eh!" He was sent off on a laughter with his lover.

"I am sorry…!" Lucien took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the corner of his eyes. "Ooh! Last time I laughed like that was a few lifetimes ago…!"

"And when was last time you got drunk with a mate like this, eh?"

"Ooh! It has been forever…! But please, your turn now, tell me about your life here, when you were younger."

"Well… I was a quiet kid, nothin' much to say eh. Parents had a farm, chicken and geese mainly. I helped them after school."

"Did you like going to school?"

"Oh Gosh no! Hated the place!"

The rugby fans in the pub applauded their team again. Lucien seized the opportunity to refill their glasses.

"Why?" He asked when the crowd calmed down.

"Such a pain it was…! Stay sat, your arse on the same bloody chair for hours on end to solve fake problems…! Problems, that wouldn't help me or my parents with the chicken and geese!"

Lucien chuckled and nodded while Mundy took a swig of the wine before resuming his speech.

"And I wasn't good at it. Kept on gettin' shit grades. Parents weren't too happy either, eh. So I dropped the whole thing as early as I could!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Was gettin' nowhere!"

"What were you the worst at?"

"Oh, easy, languages! Maths I was decent at until they added bloody letters in the numbers. But languages I could never get. We had to take French and I couldn't understand, read or write the damn thing!"

"Well, we can arrange this, hm?" Lucien moved closer and put his elbows on the table. He held his chin on his palms.

"Ooh… Can we, now…?" Mundy cocked a playful eyebrow up.

"I happen to be a native French speaker with a fair experience in teaching." Lucien answered seductively.

"Alright, sounds promisin'. But what d'you suggest, eh?"

"Perhaps some… private lessons?" Lucien let his eyes do their magic and Mundy chuckled.

"Think you can teach me?" He asked. "I'm a tough student. I don't listen, I daydream too much, and I hate to sit still and listen to a teacher blabber endlessly."

"I have my ways…" Lucien moved his foot below the table and brushed his leg against Mundy's.

"Mh… Yeah… I see…" Mundy reciprocated. He took one of Lucien's legs between his own and cuddled it while looking deep in the eyes of the man that made him feel light, so light.

"What about it, then, hm?" Lucien asked. "Do we have a deal?"

"Hold on, Professor Sexy…" Lucien's eyebrows jumped. So this was what Mundy was like when he was drunk, hm?

"Oui?"

"What about payment?"

They drank more of their wine and shared whatever was left of it. They were both past tipsy now.

"Well, as you might guess from my age, my experience is unquestionable in the field, thus raising my fees quite high." Lucien removed his gloves and slid his fingers through Mundy's on the table.

"Uh-huh, right, how much are we talkin'?"

"Too much for you, wild hunter." Lucien smirked. He lit a cigarette and put it between his lips.

"Oh-ho… But what if," Mundy stole the cigarette off of his lover's very lips and puffed on it himself. "What if I don't pay you with money, hm…?"

"Pray elaborate, I am not sure I follow you." Lucien wiggled his eyebrows through his lie. Mundy's eyelids fell half-way through his eyes and he bit his lower lip.

"How the hell d'you manage to be so bloody sexy…?" Mundy growled with his low, gravelly voice.

Lucien flashed his pearly white teeth between his thin lips and stole the cigarette back for himself. He chuckled as he smoked and blew the smoke out in a ring that slowly wreathed, and grew to caress the Aussie's face. It punched his guts warmly.

"Gosh, Lu'..." Mundy clenched his fingers on his lover's. "I don't know if it's you or the wine… Can't see straight anymore… Can't see anythin' else but you… I-I…"

Lucien watched his lover melt and his pupils blow wide with a smirk. It was awfully selfish and arrogant of him but he loved seeing that particular instant in front of him. The moment when his lover cracks, melts by the sheer force of his charms. He cocked an eyebrow up and smoked more.

"If we were alone…" Mundy started but couldn't finish his sentence.

"What would you do, if we were alone?" Lucien blew the smoke away.

"I… Can't tell you, not here, not now."

Lucien's smug smile widened and he chuckled.

"Mh… You tickled my curiosity."

Mundy took a deep breath and his lungs filled with the bitter smoke that Lucien had exhaled a second ago.

"Gosh, and yer cigs…"

"They are menthols. You like them?"

"Yeah…"

Lucien took a long drag and held Mundy's chin on his four fingers. His thumb went to Mundy's lower lip and pulled it down slowly. The Aussie's entire lower jaw loosened up under the thin thumb and his lips parted. Lucien blew the smoke straight between his lover's lips and watched him roll his eyes up in bliss before his eyelids fell completely. The Frenchman smirked. Oh he wished! He wished he could immortalise Mundy's roll of his eyes, his jaw lowering slowly, and the waves of smoke that the Frenchman created slowly filling his lungs, like the waves of love sent straight to his heart. He held Mundy's chin and watched his head roll back slightly, his grip on reality and consciousness slowly fading, abandoning himself and his body entirely to Lucien.

The Frenchman's thumb slowly and softly traced Mundy's bottom lip, from left to right. His eyes followed his own thumb on the thin lip that glistened in gold under the yellow light of the lamp above them.

"Oh-?" Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

Suddenly, Mundy had bitten his thumb and was smirking. He wiggled his eyebrows and Lucien's heart burst in his ribcage.

"Let's go home, luv', need you to deal with me now."

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

16 notes · View notes

gloves94 · 4 years

Text

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 6

Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Zuko/OC Summary: “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…” His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

'Phew, that had been a close one,' Tsai thought exhausted as she returned to the ship.

She had returned to meet Admiral Zhao in record time. It appeared he didn't suspect a thing. Perhaps it was the wine? He talked about his glory and how he expected to send a fill written transcript of his Avatar capture speech to the Fire Lord himself tomorrow. It was when he got too close for comfort that she prayed somebody would interrupt and her prayers were answered.

"Admiral Zhao!" A soldier sprinted into the room. "It's the Avatar!" He shouted in an alarmed tone.

xxx

She took advantage of this distraction and hauled her ass back to the ship. Exhausted, praying that the Avatar had made it out and that she had made the right call in trusting the Blue Spirit.

xxx

A couple of days later Iroh, Prince Zuko and Tsai sat before a tea table in Iroh's room. Zuko had been behaving extremely weird since the night that Tsai had gone away to rescue the Avatar. She wondered if he knew- if he suspected of her, but there was no way in hell he would've known. She had been fast. Subtle too having even made it to the music night to hear Iroh play the trombone and listen to the Lieutenant's love song.

There was absolutely no way he knew.

The three currently sat in the upper deck dinning chamber. The private room which the three shared their meals. It was decorated with two long fire nation banners on the walls, several candles and a figure of a red dragon's head under the horizontal window on the wall.

Tsai figured even Iroh had noticed the prince's off behavior.

"See Prince Zuko, a moment of quiet is good for your mental well-being," Iroh said after taking a most well enjoyed sip of ginseng tea. Tsai simply smiled at the older man and turned to pour some tea on the prince's cup. She watched him with a curious expression as he took a sip of it. However he stopped before and looked at her with suspicion. A nervous smile carved her face as she made eye contact with him. At the same time the ship was suddenly jerked causing the tea to slosh out of the cup and soak all of the prince's face and hair.

Tsai failed to hold in her laughter and laughed loudly. Zuko growled out in frustration and she could swear she could see the tea evaporating from his forehead. 'Now what?' He leapt to his feet and stomped out of the room into the main deck, the other two followed.

"Woah!" the girl starred in awe at a large beast that had just boarded the ship. A young dark haired woman rode the mighty beast to the deck.

"Get back!" She barked at the crew of fire benders that were ready to attack. "We're after a stowaway," she explained cutting to the chase.

"There are no stowaways on my ship. None besides this one," he added the last part in a lower tone and glared at the auburn haired girl. "Hey!" She protested crossing her arms over her chest.

It took that creature a second to rip the floor of the deck and sniffing loudly stuck its head inside the hole. To everyone's surprise an injured man climbed out of the hole and ran for his life. The beast opened its mouth and whipped its tongue striking the stowaway. The man then collapsed frozen stuff with a horrified expression on his face.

"He's paralyzed," Zuko muttered shocked.

"It's only temporary," The woman stated as she effortlessly hauled the stowaway over her shoulder. "The toxins will wear off in about an hour," she explained. "But by then, he'll be in jail and I'll have my money." She walked over to the beast her hips swaying slightly as she tossed the man onto the beasts back cooly.

"It's a shirshu, isn't is?" Tsai suddenly spoke, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "I've read about them, never seen one in person. Hard to come by in the wilderness. Even harder tamed. Must've cost a pretty penny," she mused tapping on her cheek in surprise. Zuko looked at him with his eyes narrowed. "What? I've read every encyclopedia in the library. I know a thing or two," she shrugged.

"Well, I'm impressed," Iroh stated as the three watched the woman crack her whip and bolt off the ship racing down the docks to the jail. Tsai almost ran to the edge of the rail and leaned against it. She didn't know if Iroh was impressed by the beast or by the woman.

"She's so cool," Tsai blurted in awe. "Very impressed," Iroh said with a nasty smirk as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

Zuko flashed both of them a disturbed look, the one he gave his uncle was borderline one of disgust.

"Are you two thinking what I'm thinking?" She turned to look at the two fire benders standing next to her excited. "She's just what we need!" The girl exclaimed slapping her fist against her open palm.

"Ho!" Iroh let out a lecherous laugh which showed that they were both clearly not thinking the same thing. The other two ignored this.

"She can help us track the Avatar! Only problem is, we don't have anything that smells like him," she finished dead beat. Zuko was silent for a moment.

"I might have something."

xxx

"Why are you even coming with?" Zuko commented at Tsai's presence as they docked the ship and prepared to go look for the mysterious woman. "I can be of help," she chirped. "You'll only get in the way if there's a confrontation," he spat. His tone remained firm but his eyes darted to read her expression. He was becoming desperate to learn her secret, what she was capable off.

He still couldn't believe that this dork had been the same person to threaten to turn him into mush the other night. He looked at her eyes right now, it was quite the contrast compared to the apathetic irises that he had seen the other night. He was baiting her, hoping she would reval what dangerous skills she possessed. Instead she scoffed before a grin grew across her features.

"You're cute when you're worried" She poked his face childishly.

He swatted her hand away annoyed.

Why was she hiding her skills? This made him wonder if she was hiding anything else. What were her true motives?

He recalled the scars of conflicts on the walls of the hallway. The deep slashes that scarred the walls of the compound. The blood. The helmets lamely rolling around the floor and she had done all of it without a weapon or a single scratch on her.

How on Earth had she done it? He had seen her hands before. They were scarless, soft looking and always perfectly polished with dark varnish.

"No," the other snapped. "I don't want you to compromise the mission," he retorted.

Some moments later after poking around asking questions in local markets and temples the trio headed to the seediest looking tavern off the docks of the Mo Ce Sea where it was rumored that the bounty hunter usually lounged.

"Out of my way!" The prince barked already annoyed as he parted a sea of people out of his way, "Step aside, filth!"

"He means no offense!" Iroh apologized to the thugs in the room sheepishly. "I am certain you bathe regularly."

The stench made his statement doubtful. They crossed the dark pub until reaching a table at the end where the dark haired woman was arm-wrestling a man that appeared to be twice her size.

Tsai tried to play it cool, yet failed and squeaked out a fangirling "She's so cool!" She turned her embarrassed face away to hide her growing blush. Zuko rolled his eyes at this. "I need to talk to you!" The banished prince stated loudly, his narrowed eyes glared at the woman.

"Well, if it isn't my new friends, Angry Boy and Uncle Lazy," she commented as she eyed the odd trio. 'Do I get a nickname?' The girl didn't realized she had actually said that out loud. "Oh hon," she shook her head slightly. "You are way to pretty for him," she scoffed at Zuko. "I'd run if I were you."

'She thinks I'm pretty,' the other swooned with a dumb fan girl expression on her face.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Zuko shouted glaring. Iroh couldn't help but chuckle. Way too distracted by the compliment Tsai ignored this interaction.

She did all this while engaged in an arm wrestling game. It was then that she slammed the large man's monstrous hand down against the table. The crowds cheered, money was tossed on the table.

'So cool!'

Once again- Tsai missed part of the conversation.

"Name's June," she introduced herself. Snapping the colonial girl out of her thoughts.

"I need you to find someone," Zuko said as they made their way outside the stinking pub. It was then that he pulled up a woman's necklace. More specifically a water tribe necklace. One of the ones water benders customary use to propose in their tribes.

"What happened," June drawled out, her voice dropping with sarcasm as she leaned against her shirshu with her arms crossed over her chest. "Your ex-girlfriend run off on you?"

"It's not the girl I'm after," Zuko responded cooly. "It's the bald monk she's traveling with."

"Whatever you say," June shrugged.

Moments later they were heading out of the tavern.

"You got it!" Iroh laughed merrily. It sounded as if a deal had just been made.

"Get on!" June instructed as she grabbed the necklace from Zuko once outside as they stood around the shirshu. Tsai had never seen Iroh move so fast as he eagerly climbed in a spot in the saddle where he would get to sit behind June. He turned to look at the two teenagers expectantly.

"We have to stop by my ship first. She'll only get in the way," Zuko said referring to his uncle's guest. "No I won't!" She protested childishly.

"Can't do that Angry Boy," June drawled out clicking her tongue. "Once Nyla has the scent, she has to follow it. There are no pit-stops." She explained. "Now get on!"

Zuko climbed on and sat behind his Uncle. With no choice Tsai sat behind him.

Nyla was practically salivating at the human scent of the necklace. "Hold on tight!" June warned before cracking her whip. With a single crack the beast lunged forward as the hunt began.

"Woah!" Tsai instinctively wrapper her arms around the prince holding on tightly. "Tsai! Get your hands off me!" He protested. The feeling of her body being pressed against his, her arms around his chest made him feel uncomfortably hot. "I'm going to fall off!" Her grip around him tightened. "See? This is what I meant when I said you'd get in the way!" The other shot back as the two bickered back and forth.

June rolled her eyes. People screamed and fled in panic as the giant beastly shirshu leapt over their homes buildings, from roof to roof racing through the village. It was almost like riding a rollercoaster. Tsai yelped when Nyla suddenly came to a jerking stop almost falling off the saddle, she tightened her grip around the prince and his hand gripped her arm tightly. She wouldn't be surprised if he was asphyxiating. It was then that they suddenly came to a halt outside of temple with warm hues. Outside of it stood an older woman with a calm expression on her features. It was almost as if she had been expecting them.

"Why are we stopping?" Zuko demanded in annoyance. "She must've spent a lot of time here," June explained flatly. "We have no time for this!" he snapped impatiently.

The older woman that was standing outside suddenly approached the shirshu and addressed Iroh with a hand on her hips. She wore ochre colored robes which were the same color to the ones Tsai usually wore. She wore a golden crown with a circular symbol at the center.

"Care to hear your fortune, handsome?" She offered in a flirtatious tone and the man smiled down at her. "At my age, there's only one big surprise left," Iroh replied serenely with a smile, "And I'd just as soon leave it mysterious."

Feeling nauseous Tsai sighed and buried her green face on the prince's shoulder. He immediately stiffened and was about to complain when the lady turned to them.

"What about you two love doves? Care to know the gender of your firstborn? The answer might surprise you." She offered gently with a small smile.

Zuko quickly released his grip from Tsai's arm as if it had burned him. He hadn't realized he was still holding on. The girl's arms were still wrapped around his torso. However her grip was now weaker and looser. "For the last time!" Zuko roared with all of his might his face burning a bright shade of red. "She is NOT my girlfriend!" He roared so loud that a flock of birds in a nearby stormed away. He said it so loud and with so much rage that Tsai wouldn't have been surprised if the people in the Southern Water Tribe had heard him. She managed to utter a zombie like groan.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she moaned out sickly feeling the nausea creeping on her.

Some time later after several ups and downs of searching for the damn Avatar Nyla stopped at the nunnery Abbey. It was then that the perfume stench became too powerful.

"I'm going to throw up," she uttered.

"That's it. Off the beast!" Zuko ordered but she had already beat him to the punch sliding off Nyla.

"Tsai!" Iroh asked concerned.

"I-I don't feel well," she said attempting to swallow up the vomit that was creeping up her throat. "Just come back for me later. I'll be waiting right here," she sighed as she leaned against one of the pale yellow walls of the abbey and slid down it to her bottom.

"See! This is what I meant when I said you'd get in the way!" Zuko exclaimed.

"Next time you try riding in the back of a shirshu!" She shot back.

"Alright, enough flirting you too. We've got an Avatar to catch!" June cracked her whip. And just like that we were off.

Some moments later Tsai was leaning over a bush in one of the edges of the Abbey puking her guts out. "Last... Time... I ride a..." She gurgled violently. "A shirshu."

The nuns were more than kind. They offered some water and stale bread and offered her a seat under a shaded bench. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. It was almost peaceful and those lovely perfume scents. She looked up at the skies and wondered if it would be nightfall by the time the group returned back for her.

It was then that the nun she identified as the superior one entered the abbey with a young boy that had a blue arrow tattooed down his forehead.

'Huh, well I'll be damned,' she let out a low whistle. 'Damn Avatar literally just strolled in.'

Part of her wondered if she was hallucinating. Their eyes met and Aang's went wide. Fast as the wind he was standing in front of her before she could even react. Maybe the rumors were true and he really was as fast as the wind.

"It's you!" He exclaimed.

Aang looked at her carefully. It had definitely been the lady in disguise that had rescued him from that night when he had been captured by Admiral Zhao. The night of the Blue Spirit.

"You rescued me!"

Instead of wearing the dark make up from that night, her eyes were made up with a light brown eyeshadow. Lips a shade of peony pink, except her skin was paler than it had been that night. Aang thought she looked unwell, almost sick.

"It's me," she mused with a lazy smile. "I-I don't even know your name!" He spoke rapidly. "Thank you," he bowed down slightly out of respect.

"Avatar," She spoke after a moment unsure of how to address him.

The gears in her head turned slowly as she processed what she could do. Could she fight the Avatar down? Tie him up somehow and wait for Zuko to get back? She wondered if she could persuade him to come with them peacefully? Or maybe- just maybe he could help her...

"I believe all citizens of the Fire Nation should be treated equally." She smiled after a moment. "Fire and earth benders as well as non benders."

"Fire Nation?" His eyebrows went up in surprise his body leaned back as he his gut instinct suddenly warned him that this person was dangerous. It was Tsai's turn to take a bow before him. "Which is why I with the most respect have to ask you to come with me."

Aang was shocked. He was about to speak when the wooden door to the abbey was suddenly wrecked as Nyla stormed in with Iroh, Zuko and two prisoners.

"There he is!" Zuko exclaimed pointing a finger at the airbender. Nyla charged forward ready to strike. The Avatar using a glider of sorts leapt up into the air and began flying in sharp circles. Tsai continued calmly sipping on her water witnessing the madness unfold. She knew this wasn't her fight.

She had already done what she could. Now it was up to Zuko to capture him.

Nyla charged toward the Avatar when a massive Flying Bison tackled it down. Two of the nuns suddenly dragged two bodies to rest next to where she was sitting.

"Sup," she retorted casually still sipping her beverage. The two wore Water Tribes robes, had dark hair, dark skin and brown hair with striking blue eyes. The two flashed her an odd look. A battle unfolded between Zuko and the Avatar and there was a massive explosion in which both flew up to opposite rooftops. June had been hit and lay unconscious on the floor before Iroh patted her face awake and she rose up to the occasion and fought. Iroh stood there feeling rather pleased with himself.

"Oh, there you are Tsai. Feeling better?" he asked casually. As if a massive fight wasn't unfolding before them. The girl looked at the prince who looked like he was really struggling. Then again, it was him, June and Nyla against the Avatar. She assumed they would be able to carry their own weight in this fight. "Should we do something?" She asked not removing her eyes from the fighting prince. Iroh looked pensive for a moment. "Actually-" he began. "let's go smell some perfumes," he said with a slight smile.

Iroh and Tsai stood on the sidelines as they critiqued, tried and smelt some of the exquisite perfumes that the abbey produced. "Hint of freesia, I like this one," she said sniffing a small white bottle. Iroh held a bottle he liked himself. Both made a sly eye contact sharing the same thought before hiding the bottle inside of their sleeves and laughing.

The fight continued. When suddenly barrels of perfume were poured all over the abbey. One of the prisoners that Zuko had brought with the group on top of Nyla, the girl wearing the Water Tribe clothes was a water bender. She bended the water and made it rain a powerful stench of perfume which clogged Nyla's nose.

"The Shirshu! It's been blinded!"

Nyla went off the hook. It's whipped tongue suddenly snapped and accidentally struck Prince Zuko who collapsed with a gasp of surprise.

June jumped from the saddle in an attempt to soothe her creature which failed and in a swing of its head the shirshu lashed out at its master and struck her before fleeing into the wilderness.

"June! No!" Iroh cried out dramatically as he hurried forward to catch the paralyzed woman in his arms, both of the collapsing to the ground. Tsai raised an eyebrow 'Really?' The edge of her eye twitched.

From across the abbey she saw the Avatar embrace his teammates. He looked at her from a distance and their eyes once again met. It was then that Aang realized that she was with them. She was a part of the Fire Nation. She was the enemy. She weighted her options. What was right and what was wrong. Should she attempt to go after them?

She stood back and nodded her head down, slightest of smiles on her face. He did not return it. And just like that, the Avatar escaped once again.

This time Tsai approached the paralyzed prince, his uncle and the bounty hunter.

"Uncle?" Zuko muttered looking at his uncle who was lying next to him with June lying on top of him, "I didn't see you get hit with the tongue."

"Shhh.... Iroh shushed him, putting his finger to his lips before putting his hand back down and reclosing his eyes with a smile of pure bliss on his face.

June's eyes snapped open as glared at Iroh angrily.

"Well, well, well, looks like this time I'm the one with the upper hand," Tsai teased both hands on her hips. "I wonder if I should go take a stroll in the park or get some help?" She laughed.

xxxxx

FIRST https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621142853126602752/sunburn-prince-zuko-1

NEXT https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621233199830466560/sunburn-prince-zuko-7

PREV https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621143989947629568/sunburn-prince-zuko-5

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

55 notes · View notes

freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

The Most Dramatic Season Ever - Week 4

Summary: It’s your time now! You are ABC’s new Bachelorette and this is your journey! All these men (including our fav BoRhap boys and then some) are competing for your heart! Will you find love? Will you get engaged at the end? Or will you end up heartbroken? Find out, on the most dramatic season ever!

Word Count: 9.5k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @moon-stars-soul, @danadeacon, @deacyblues, @thesundrop, @cupidben, @lostlittlenerd, @delilahmay39, @timmvrphy, @queenmylovely, @loveandbeloved29, @free-pool-trash, @fairestkillerqueenofall, @local-troubled-writer, @babyalienfairy, @littlecarowrites, @allthethingsicant, @im-an-adult-ish, @mirkwoodshewolf, @squishy-gay-astronaut, @sherlollydramoine, @butlegendsneverdie, @dogmom2014 If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Alright, we are halfway through the season! The drama continues this week on The Bachelorette!

Warning(s): None

Night 1 Week 1 Week 2 Week 3

Week 4 here we go!!!

London was beautiful. You had never been before, so you were eager to explore somewhere new. Plus, you knew several of the guys would be familiar with it. This was an opportunity to see their world. And that was exactly what you planned to do.

The men settled into their hotel suite. It was a large, airy place, with a wide balcony overlooking the city. Then men all gathered on the balcony to take in the view.

“I’ve never seen Big Ben before,” said Mike. “Except in pictures.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe teased. “He’s right here.”

He pointed to Ben, who laughed. “That’s a much bigger Ben than I am.”

Joe then wrapped his arms around Ben in a bear hug. “Well, we’ve got the best Ben.”

“That, we do,” agreed Gwilym, who reached out and pinched Ben’s cheek.

Ben laughed more and flushed. Then all the guys gathered in a group hug.

Of course, Luke was not with them. He was inside, journaling by himself. After everything that happened, he avoided the other men, and they avoided him right back. So, he missed out on the bond that had formed between the rest of them. Despite all competing for the same woman, they had become solid friends.

When there was a knock on the door for the date card, Mike went to go get it. Everyone watched the hallway anxiously. Then, they all heard him release a delighted cry. They exchanged confused looks. Mike returned without a date card, but with something much better. You.

They all cheered when they saw you and engulfed you in a warm group hug. Then they all settled back onto the couches so you could catch your breath.

“Welcome to London, guys,” you said, scanning their faces. “I’m really, really happy with the group that’s still here, and I hope that we can just continue this crazy journey all together.”

“How are you enjoying it?” Taron asked.

“Well, I haven’t gotten to see much, but so far, I love London,” you said. “In fact, I came here today for someone to explore it with me.”

They all watched you, hoping you would say their own names.

“Gwilym,” you said, finding his eyes. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I’d be honored,” he replied, getting to his feet.

You smiled and followed suit, holding out your hand to him. You could see the disappointment on some of the other men’s faces, but you were relieved that they also seemed genuinely happy for Gwilym. Maybe you really could leave all the drama behind.

You and Gwilym waved goodbye and headed out the door. You went out on the streets of London hand in hand.

“I’m gonna let you take the lead here,” you told him. “You live here, right?”

“I do,” he chuckled. “I’m not originally from London, but I live here now.”

“Well, show me around, stud!” you urged.

He laughed again and you were off. Gwilym walked you around almost everywhere that was nearby. He was knowledgeable about the history of everything too. That was one of the most attractive things about Gwilym to you. He was so well-read and intelligent. But it never came off as condescending. He was still incredibly kind and humble as well.

You stopped inside a pub to eat and grab a drink after all the walking. You ordered fish and chips because that’s what you’d always heard in the movies. Gwilym laughed beside you and kissed you on the cheek.

You each had a beer as you waited for the food.

“So,” you said as you sipped. “How are you since we last talked?”

“Very well,” he answered. “I’m excited to be getting to know you better and see where we go from here.”

“I’m excited too,” you said. “Every time I think about our connection, I always feel hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” you said. “Since you told me your story, I feel like you’re the most hopeful person in the world. What you went through was...unbelievably sad. And yet, you’re still here, looking for love, pursuing it wholeheartedly. It makes me hopeful too.”

He smiled sadly at the glass in front of him.

“I’m flattered by your admiration,” he said. “Losing her - especially the way I did - was the most difficult thing I’ve ever been through. We actually moved to London together from our little town, so coming here with you really is like a fresh start. It’s making me feel like I’m re-discovering it.”

“Is that a good feeling or a bad one?” you asked.

“It’s bittersweet,” he said. “I feel like sometimes, I still miss her so much, and it still hurts like an open wound. And other times I feel like I’m fine.”

“That’s sort of how grief works,” you told him. “Moving on from something like that isn’t a linear projection until you’re over it. You have setbacks. You’re still allowed to be sad and confused sometimes.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I guess what I’m trying to say is...despite all of what happened and all the hurt, you have made me hopeful. What I’m feeling for you is something so good that I fully believe that love can happen for me again.”

A smile spread slowly across your face as he spoke. You leaned over and kissed him sweetly, conveying your absolute adoration of that sentiment. Gwilym was so deserving of love, and you wanted to show him that.

Your food came, and you split the plate between you. It tasted amazing, and as you ate the fries, an idea came to you.

“How good is your eye-mouth coordination?” you asked.

He blinked. “My what?”

You giggled. “Like, if I toss you some fries, can you catch them in your mouth?”

“Depends on how well you throw them,” he retorted. “The real question should be how good is your aim?”

“Oh?” you returned, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“Yes,” he said. “And since we are in the UK, they’re chips. Not fries.”

You snatched one off the plate and tossed it at him, hitting him square in the nose.

“Looks like my aim is pretty good there, chief,” you teased.

You threw another, and this time he caught it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

“Okay, we make a pretty good team,” he said through a laugh.

You threw a few more to him, and he caught most. However, when he threw them to you, your catching abilities were abysmal. You blamed it on Gwilym’s arm, and he let you.

It felt really good to sit and laugh with him. You felt like many of your conversations with Gwil were so serious. So to be lighthearted and goof around with him showed you another side of him. A side you were glad existed.

After lunch, you continued to walk around a bit. Then Gwilym stopped at an intersection, tugging your hand to stop you from crossing the street. You shot him a quizzical look.

“Gwil?”

“If we turn right here,” he said. “We can get to my flat in five minutes. I’m not presuming anything by asking this, but would you like to come over and see it?”

You looked down so he wouldn’t see the deep blush creeping up in your cheeks. On any other date, this would have implied sex, but you two were on camera, being followed by a whole crew. You weren’t embarrassed by that. You were embarrassed that you were disappointed they were there. You were really attracted to Gwilym, and would not have turned down that invitation outside of this.

Actually, you weren’t going to turn it down either way.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you said, looking back up at him.

“Great,” he replied with a grin.

God, he was handsome.

Gwilym’s place was humble and cozy. He opened the door and allowed you inside, and you felt like he had just done the same with his heart. Everything about this place screamed “Gwilym Lee.” You walked through the front and into the sitting room, which had aged leather furniture and warm lamplight. The kitchen was smaller than what you were used to in the US, with a vintage look. It was also strictly practical.

Gwilym also had books everywhere. There was a half shelf in the sitting room beside the fireplace. A corner of the kitchen counter was dedicated to recipe books. They were also randomly on whatever surfaces he had set them down on while reading. You pictured him walking around, nose to the pages, glasses on, focused.

He had few decorations, but there were plenty of pictures. Some of his family and friends. But the majority appeared to be of him with his students. Gwilym was a literature professor, and he was clearly dedicated to his work.

“Would you like to see upstairs?” he offered. “There’s something really special up there I’d like to show you.”

“Please,” you said.

You followed him up the wooden staircase to the second floor. There were only a few rooms up here. Gwilym’s bedroom, a guest bedroom, a hallway bathroom, and one more door at the end of the hall. That was where he led you.

He opened the door, and you gasped at the side. Across each wall, floor to ceiling - bookshelves. Fully stocked, too. There were thick, leather bound reference books. Paperback novels. Limited edition classics. Everything you could imagine for a personal collection.

“This is my library,” he said, looking between the shelves and your face.

You wondered if you looked stupid with your mouth hanging open. Gwilym’s eyes shone as he gazed at you. How beautiful you were to him in this moment was beyond words.

“Gwil, this is incredible!” you cried. “Your very own library!”

He smiled. “Take a look around, see what you like!”

You went to the first shelf to your right and extracted a worn-looking book. The spine was damaged so you couldn’t read the title until you opened it.

“Anna Karenina,” you read.

“Ah, that’s quite a special one,” he said. “Very close to my heart. It’s my grandmother’s copy. If you look at the publication date, you’ll see why it’s so special.”

Your eyes scanned the page until you found it.

“1890?!” you gasped.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “She inherited it from her great-aunt. Because I collect so many books, she left it to me.”

“That’s amazing,” you said.

“Have you ever read it?” he asked.

“I have,” you said. “It’s a tragic story, but one of my favorite classics. This is a real treasure.”

“It is,” he agreed as you returned it to the shelf.

“You’re free to keep looking, if you like,” he offered.

You did. You perused the shelves and spotted another favorite.

“Oh, Summer of Katya!” you said. “I loved this book!”

“Another tragedy,” he said.

“Yeah, but what a wild ride,” you replied. “That plot twist had me shook for days.”

“Me as well,” he said. “A great story.”

“So, how many of these books have you actually read?” you wondered as you set Summer of Katya back.

“All of them.”

Your mouth fell open again.

“All of them?”

“All of them,” he laughed.

“That would take me the rest of my life!” you cried looking around again.

Gwilym watched you as you walked along the shelves, and you stopped to talk about a few more things. A small smile claimed his lips. You stopped talking and met his gaze.

“What?” you wondered. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “It’s just...you sort of seem to belong here in my home.”

You beamed. “I like feeling like I belong to the things you love, Gwilym.”

He held out his hand, which you took. With it, he pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. You sort of felt like you belonged there too. Maybe you could. And maybe spend much of your life in this room, picking out what to read next before crawling into bed beside your husband. That would be a rather heavenly way to live.

For the evening portion of your date, you and Gwil met at a bar right on the River Thames. Like usual, it was reserved for just the two of you to enjoy your date. You sat down together and you smiled at him before making a small toast.

After you each had a bit of your drinks, you took his hand.

“I really had a great time with you today,” you said. “I feel like, so balanced with you. We can be serious, we can laugh together, and we can have intellectual discussions too. I feel like I can be every part of myself around you.”

“I’m relieved,” he told you. “And I feel the same. I haven’t struggled in opening up to you, and that's really nice.”

“Can I admit something to you?” you asked.

“In the spirit of such honesty, I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” he teased.

You chuckled and glanced down at your lap before looking back at him.

“When you first told me you’re a professor, I was really intimidated by you,” you said.

“Intimidated by me?” he questioned.

“I was nervous that you were going to think that I’m dumb,” you said.

He pursed his mouth in confusion. “W...why would I think that?”

“Because I feel like…” you trailed off. “I dunno, I’m not the most well-read person in the world, and I enjoy things that in the academic world might seem frivolous or silly. I try to keep up with current events, but I get distracted, and I think that all of that put together I -”

“Hold on,” he cut across you. “Y/N, none of that amounts to intelligence. You don’t have to read every book in my library or know every detail of Brexit to convince me that you’re smart. You are smart. A lot smarter than me in many ways.”

“Thank you,” you said, blushing.

“Can I ask you something?” he wondered.

“Of course.”

“Who told you that you’re dumb?”

You blinked, unsure how to answer him.

“Hardly anybody thinks they’re dumb on their own,” he went on. “Which leads me to believe that somebody, somewhere convinced you of it.”

You blinked again, this time to get rid of the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I...I, uh, had an ex who said that to me a lot,” you answered at last. “Anytime I disagreed with him or tried to address something he’d done to upset me, he told me I was being stupid, or that I didn’t understand anything. So, I kind of just became convinced that I wasn’t very smart.”

“Let me tell you what I see,” he said. “In all my conversations with you, I’ve found you to be not only extremely clever, but also funny, kind, and giving. In fact, my admiration has grown so much that I can finally say…” he trailed off.

You had been forming a smile as he spoke, but when he hesitated, it faltered.

“Say what?” you pressed.

“Y/N, I’m falling in love with you,” he said. “It seems unbelievable that it should happen so fast. But you are exactly the kind of girl I’d like to be with for the rest of my life.”

You smiled so wide, you thought your face might crack. Then you leaned over and took his face in your hands to kiss him.

“Gwilym, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” you told him when you parted. “I feel like we’re really progressing. And I don’t want to stop.” You reached across the table and picked up the rose that was waiting there. “So, Gwilym. Will you accept this rose?”

“You know I will,” he replied, kissing you again.

Gwilym was very much a gentleman when he kissed you. It was slightly reserved, but with enough passion for you to feel how much he wanted to do more. Each move was thoughtful and considerate, just like him.

Gwilym: I really am falling for Y/N. I hate that she’s been with such terrible men in the past. She deserves so much more. I’d like to give her that.

You pinned the rose to his jacket and then you grinned at each other.

“You ready to go?” you asked.

“Go where?” he wondered.

“One of the most iconic places in London,” you said.

You offered your hand. He took it and followed you out. You walked together down the street until you reached it. The London Eye.

“Oh, God,” he sighed. “We’re really doing this?”

“Yes!” you insisted.

You had a whole pod reserved for the two of you. You were excited as you went up, but the higher you got, you also grew nervous. You clutched Gwilym’s hand.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re frightened,” he teased. “You went bungee jumping in the mountains!”

“I was scared of that too!” you returned.

“Come here, cariad,” he said gently, pulling you into his arms once again.

You leaned on him and looked out over the city. The sight was breathtaking. All the lights from the buildings looked like stars. The way they reflected off the river was stunning. You felt like you were looking down from outer space or something.

“This view is beautiful,” you said.

“I like mine better,” he replied.

You faced him and saw that his his eyes were fixed on you instead of London.

“Smooth,” you giggled.

“Kiss me,” he breathed.

You did. This kiss was different. It was deeper, more intentional, more open than your kisses before. Gwilym was fully giving himself to you and this process. To accent your joy perfectly, a fireworks show began over the river. You hardly noticed their colors or the sounds. Everything was just you and Gwilym.

Back at the house, the men were waiting for a date card. A few guys were bemoaning not being with you right now, but were holding out hope for a one on one. When there was a knock at the door, Richard went to fetch it. He returned with a card.

“It’s a group date,” he said. “Joe, Rami, Allen, Taron, Richard, Mike, and Kenny. Are you ready to meet Her Majesty? Ayyyy-yo! Y/N.”

“Ay-yo?” questioned Allen.

“What, like Freddie Mercury?” suggested Rami.

“What would Freddie Mercury have to do with a date, though?” Taron wondered.

“We’ll figure that out tomorrow,” said Mike. “With all of us on this date, that means…”

“Me and Luke are left,” Ben said with a heavy sigh. “It’s gonna be a two on one.”

A two on one meant a lot of risk because at least one of the people on it would be sent home on the date. It made Ben nervous because even though Luke’s behavior was atrocious, you kept him around, so there had to be a real connection there. Also, he was still angry at Luke for starting that stupid drama in the first place.

“I’m not worried,” Luke said. “Y/N and I have overcome a lot and I think that makes for a strong foundation.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. Just don’t tell her any more sh*t you’ve made up about me.”

“I didn’t make anything up,” Luke returned. “I heard what I heard.”

“You didn’t hear anything because I. Never. Said. It.” Ben shot back.

“Neither did I,” Joe added. “But let’s leave this in the past, okay? All any of us can do is focus on our own relationships with her.”

Luke and Ben glowered at each other a moment longer before looking away.

The next day, everyone but Gwilym, Ben, and Luke, got on a bus and headed out from the hotel. Mike, Kenny, and Joe had never been to London before, so they were in awe of the city as they made their way to the unknown destination.

Taron: I feel terrible for Ben and what he’s going to face tomorrow, but I’m also really glad Luke isn’t here to ruin the group date again. Those of us here are actually decent blokes, so I think it’ll be a fun day.

“Is that Wembley Stadium?” Joe wondered, pointing in the direction the bus was heading.

“It is,” said Richard.

The group exchanged apprehensive looks as they were dropped off at the legendary arena and escorted into it.

Inside, on the field, was a stage setup. You stood center stage, smiling at the men. You were wearing all white - a white v-neck tank top, and white pants with a red and yellow racing stripe up the sides, belted at the waist. You also donned a yellow, military style leather jacket.

“Hello, gentlemen!” you greeted as they climbed up the stairs to join you. “Welcome to Wembley Stadium! How many of y’all have been here before?”

Taron, Richard, Allen, and Rami raised their hands. Joe, Mike, and Kenny did not. They were also the ones still looking around, while the others stayed focused on you.

“Well, surely you all know about the legendary concert that took place here in 1985, Live Aid,” you said, and they nodded. “And I’m sure you know which act stole the show.”

“Queen,” said Rami.

“Yep!” you confirmed. “So we’re gonna have some fun today. You’re all going to be dressed like Freddie Mercury and give me your best Live Aid performance.”

Their eyes widened as they looked at you, and you bit back a laugh.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be lip-syncing,” you assured them. “There also won’t be an audience. The person who does the best job gets to talk to me first at the cocktail party tonight.”

“Will you be the judge?” Taron asked.

“Actually, I won’t, I’m just enjoying the show,” you said. “The judges are some very special people who are quite familiar with Freddie.”

“Oh my God…” Rami said under his breath.

You smirked. “Guys, please welcome Queen and Adam Lambert!”

The guys clapped as Brian May, Roger Taylor, and Adam Lambert emerged onto the stage. They first hugged you and then turned to face the men.

Richard: I can’t believe this...it’s f***ing Queen! We’re on a date with Queen! I mean - we’re on a date with Y/N - but Queen is there! I’m blown away right now!

“Hullo, guys,” said Brian with a gentle wave. “We just wanted to let you all know - don’t be nervous. This is meant to be something fun to show Y/N you can come out of your shell a bit.”

“Yes, have fun,” Roger agreed. “Don’t be afraid to make an arse out of yourself. Freddie certainly wasn’t.”

Everyone chuckled.

“So, you guys have fifteen minutes to change and decide on one song from the Live Aid set you want to do,” Adam explained. “You can watch the clip of your choice as much as you want in that fifteen minutes.”

“The costumes are backstage,” you said. “You guys ready?”

They nodded at you.

“Okay, fifteen minutes starts now!”

While the guys got changed and prepared, you and the band went around and checked up on them. You went over to Mike first, who was watching the video of Live Aid and scrubbing through it quickly.

“How’s it going?” you asked.

“Okay,” he replied. “I don’t really know any Queen songs, so I’m listening for something that sounds familiar.”

“You know We Will Rock You?” you wondered.

“I know those words of it,” he laughed.

You giggled. “Well, I’d go for that one, then. It’s second to last.”

“Thank you,” he sighed.

You looked over and saw Rami chatting with Brian. Richard was talking to Roger, and Allen and Kenny were talking to Adam. Everyone was in the iconic white tank top and light wash jeans. They also had the studded armband and mustache. You went over to Taron next.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked.

“I know what song I’ll do,” he told you. “Bohemian Rhapsody. That way I can sit behind a piano for most of it.”

“Nice,” you chuckled. “You play, right?”

“I do,” he said. “Although, as you learned on our Disney date, I’m much more of an Elton John man than Queen. Don’t get me wrong, I adore them, but Elton is more my style.”

“I’d love to hear you play some Elton for me sometime,” you said. “But honestly, now is the time to get out of your comfort zone and show me your edge, Taron.”

“I’ll do anything for you, love,” he replied with a grin.

Then you headed over to Rami.

“Hey, sweetie,” you said as he pulled you into a hug.

When you parted, you had to take a moment. Rami really looked like Freddie for a split second. With the mustache and the clothes...he had even styled his hair. He was getting really into this.

“Woah, you look great!” you said.

“Thanks,” he returned. “I’m really excited for this.”

“I know you’re an actor, so you’re not too worried,” you joked. “Which song did you pick?”

“Radio GaGa,” he told you.

“Good choice,” you praised.

You chatted with Rami for another moment before moving on to Richard.

“Just be grateful we picked Live Aid and not one of our shows from the seventies,” Roger was saying as you approached. “You’d all be in leotards.”

“I dunno, I think I could make it work,” Richard returned with a chuckle.

“I definitely think you could make it work,” you agreed. “How’s it going over here?”

“Pretty good,” Richard said. “I know what I’m going to do.”

“Awesome!” you said. “You a big Queen fan?”

“Massive Queen fan,” he told you. “This is kind of a dream for me.”

“I think you’ve found your man, Y/N,” Roger teased. “This one’s clearly got the best taste.”

You laughed.

The fifteen minutes went by more quickly than you anticipated, but most of the guys seemed ready. There were a few nerves you could feel, but they weren’t too bad. Kenny was up first.

Kenny did “We Are the Champions” and he was pretty good. He clearly knew the words, but he was also nervous and shy. You found that surprising since he was a pro wrestler and part of his act was to put on a bit of a show. You cut him some slack, though. This was out of his element.

Taron was second, and he was better. His performance did come out more like Elton than like Freddie, but he was really feeling the music. You could tell he had wanted to play and sing himself, so he was holding back a little bit.

Mike was third. He did “We Will Rock You” and had a lot of energy, but it was more his own than like Freddie. You didn’t mind, since you liked Mike’s style, but it didn’t bode well for him as far as the competition went.

Allen was fourth, and he did “Hammer to Fall.” So far, he came the closest to looking like Freddie up on stage. He was upbeat and had obviously studied the movements. The only problem was that it came off a little too rehearsed.

Richard went next. He had the same idea as Taron to do “Bohemian Rhapsody” so he wouldn’t have to move around so much. He was even more reserved than Taron. Evidently, he was not much of a performer at all, despite how much he loved the music.

Joe was sixth. He did “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” It was similar in idea to Taron and Richard, because he got to use an instrument. Joe could actually play guitar, so he mimed it well. Like Mike, he was more Joe than Freddie. Joe wasn’t a shy person at all, so he was still entertaining.

Finally, it was Rami. From the first notes of “Radio GaGa,” you could tell there was something different about Rami’s performance. Every move, every step, every turn was intentional, but looked effortlessly Freddie. It took you off guard. Rami looked the most like Freddie, and with this performance, you were convinced he had a spiritual connection to the man. You looked over at Brian and Roger. Brian had tears in his eyes. Roger was closing his mouth just as you looked. They saw it too. Adam placed a comforting hand on each of their shoulders.

When Rami finished, the whole arena was deathly silent. All eyes were fixed on Rami, who stood breathless on stage, but looking proud. He also looked like...not Rami. That last note rang out, and for a moment, it was as if Freddie himself stood there.

Finally, Roger cleared his throat.

“Well done,” he choked out. “We’ll just need a...a moment to uh, discuss.”

The band walked out of earshot for a moment and you approached Rami.

“I think you shook them up,” you said. “You certainly shook me up.”

He shot you a worried glance.

“In a good way,” you assured him. “Believe me, you were incredible.”

The band returned and appeared to have recovered from their shock.

“Everybody did a fine job,” Brian began. “Just remember to not be so shy. Show Y/N that you can open up and be yourself.”

“This really brought me back,” Roger added. “But one person in particular really captured Freddie’s spirit today.”

“And that person is Rami,” Adam announced.

You let out a cheer and clapped for Rami, and the rest of the men joined you. You hugged him around the neck as you congratulated him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said bashfully.

“Congratulations, Rami,” Brian said. “Enjoy your time with Y/N first tonight, and remember to use it wisely.”

Everyone thanked the band for their part, and got autographs before they left. Then it was time for the evening portion of the date. It was still at Wembley, in a private box, which overlooked the field. The stage set up had been removed already, so it was returned to its sport ready look. It was still lit up in the darkness by the stadium lights.

You met the men in the box and gave a toast. Then, you took Rami by the hand and led him out. Also reserved for you was the next box over, so you could have private conversations. You and Rami went in there and sat down to chat.

“You were seriously amazing today,” you told him. “That was like, Oscar worthy.”

He chuckled. “I dunno about all that, but I definitely had fun. Freddie Mercury is pretty special to me.”

“Why’s that?” you wondered.

“Well, we sort have a lot in common,” he said. “We’re both kinda awkward brown boys from immigrant families, but with a lot of dreams.”

“I can see that,” you said. “You feel that strongly about acting?”

“I do,” he said. “I take it very seriously. I believe in myself, and I hope that someday I can be big enough to win an Oscar. I wanna be like Freddie, where kids who look like me can start believing that they can succeed too.”

You loved that idea and what it represented. The only thing for you was that actors were away a lot, and you wanted to raise a family. With a partner.

“How does that dream fall in with your desire to have a family?” you asked.

“Lots of actors have families,” he said. “I’m already settled in LA, where most of the jobs are, and that’s where I’d want to raise my family. And I’d work with my partner to make sure my schedule didn’t interfere with important things. I know it won’t be easy, but I am family oriented, and I know I can do both. But the last thing I wanna do is settle.”

“Settle?” you questioned.

“I mean, I don’t want to take some safe, nine-to-five job just because I want to get married and have a family,” he said. “I want to pursue my dreams so that my kids will have someone they can really be proud of. Someone who didn’t give up on his passion.”

You smiled. “I like that. You’re a very driven person, Rami, I hadn’t noticed that about you before.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re learning now,” he said. “I am driven and focused and there’s a lot I want out of life.”

You both paused to sip your drinks.

“What about you?” he said. “What are you passionate about?”

“I’m most passionate about family,” you said. “I didn’t really have those connections as a kid. My family isn’t very close. I want that unit, that strength that comes with being together.”

“That’s a beautiful sentiment,” he said. “Is there anything else?”

“Like what?” you wondered.

“Like hobbies,” he said. “Y/N, don’t you have interests besides that?”

“I read a lot,” you told him. “And I like fashion and beauty, but those are just normal girl things.”

“Are you kidding?” he returned. “There’s a lot there to go with. Do you ever design your own stuff?”

You blushed. “I...well, I do sort of have this dream of starting my own clothing label.”

“That’s awesome!” he said excitedly. “Tell me more!”

“Well, I’d want to use all recycled materials so we’re not being wasteful,” you said. “That way it’s like thrifting, but you’ll still get the latest styles. Everything would just be re-designed and…” you trailed off. “Sorry. It’s kind of a silly idea.”

“Not at all!” he insisted. “I think it’s a great idea. Environmentally friendly and everything. That’s amazing, Y/N. Don’t doubt yourself.”

“You certainly help me believe in it,” you replied, all embarrassment fading away at his enthusiasm.

“I want to help you believe in yourself,” he said. “It’s important to me.”

“It is?”

“Yes, Y/N,” he said. “I want to be there for you. I’m falling in love with you and I want to help you see yourself through my eyes.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You grinned.

“You’re falling in love with me?”

“More and more every day,” he assured you.

With that, he kissed you. Rami’s kisses were always deeply passionate and romantic. It made you feel like you two were on the cover of a romance novel or something. You felt like you were in your own romance novel because you were falling for Rami too. He was just so special.

Rami: I really am falling in love with Y/N. I can just see a wonderful future with her as my wife. She’s everything you could ever want.

After Rami, Joe wanted to see you. Your time with Joe went as well as it usually did. You laughed together a lot and discussed the date. He reassured you that he was falling for you. You were tempted to say it back, but hesitated. You felt strongly for Joe, but there was still more to explore there.

Allen pulled you after Joe. You were still holding back with Allen, and you felt that he was too. He had told you more of his story on your one on one, but since then, you hadn’t had a serious conversation. You didn’t feel uncomfortable around him or anything, but there was something more you wanted. Like he was only giving himself partially to this. You wanted him to give everything.

Richard came next. Similar to Allen, he held back from you. He had divulged even less information about himself. Less than any of the other men there. Richard was fun and easygoing, but you wanted him to dig deeper. He just wasn’t going there. You needed to find out why.

Taron followed after Richard. Taron was not afraid of giving his heart to you, and you could feel it ever since that one on one. Every time you spoke to him, the relationship moved forward, in the right direction. You always looked forward to your time with him, and today was no different.

There was a piano in the private box, and Taron made good on his promise to play for you. He began with “Your Song” by Elton John, one of your favorites. His voice was swoon-worthy, and you loved listening. Each time he sang, you pictured him in your house together, singing your kids to sleep or just serenading you before bed. He felt like home to you.

“Life really is wonderful with you in the world, Y/N,” he said as he finished. “It’s becoming pretty difficult to imagine my life without you in it.”

“That’s sweet,” you said. “I’d have a hard time without you, too.”

“Really, Y/N,” he said. “I’m falling in love with you. Hard.”

You met his gaze, heart racing with joy.

“I’m so happy you told me,” you whispered. “You’re amazing, Taron.”

He kissed you. Short and sweet because neither of you could stop smiling.

Mike and Kenny also made things difficult on you because they both told you they were falling in love as well. You felt like all of them deserved roses tonight, but you knew who you wanted the rose to go to. As you all gathered back in the original box, you picked it up off the table.

“Thank you all for an incredible day,” you said. “We got a bit of a rock concert and I got to see you all just have a good time. But I wanna give this rose to someone who really proved himself today. Who showed me something new and moved our relationship forward.”

You found Rami’s eyes.

“Rami, will you accept this rose?”

“I will,” he assured you, getting to his feet.

You pinned it to his jacket as he kissed your cheek. Then, you bid them all goodnight. You were still riding the high of the day when you remembered that the following day, you had your two on one with Ben and Luke.

The date card arrived for Ben and Luke while the rest of the men were at the cocktail party with you. Gwilym retrieved it and read it out loud.

“Ben and Luke,” he said. “I want us to grow. Love, Y/N.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Ben groaned.

“What, eager to go home?” Luke taunted.

Ben rolled his eyes and went to his room for the night.

The next day, Ben and Luke each placed their luggage by the door. Whoever went home, the producers would come and take their luggage to the airport. The two men were driven by car to meet you in a lovely garden and park. Everything was blooming so it was the perfect time of year for a date like this. You just wished you weren’t dreading it so much. One of them was going home, but you felt like you needed time with both of them. Hopefully today would be enough.

“Hi, guys,” you greeted, trying to sound chipper as they hugged you one by one. “So today, we’re having a picnic in the park. It’s really beautiful here, so let’s have a good day, yeah?”

“O’course,” Ben agreed.

“Definitely,” Luke added.

“Okay, let’s go.”

You led them over the set up that was reserved for you. It was a small table with three chairs around it. You sat first - in between them - and then poured everyone a glass of champagne. The champagne was more for you, really. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, and you needed to feel at ease. These two had such animosity between them.

“So, Luke, you wanna go talk?” you asked.

“Sure, yeah,” he agreed.

You walked around a hedge to another small table. You took a swig of your drink and then looked at him.

“So, I know you’re not over everything that happened in Asheville, and neither am I,” you said.

“No, I’m over it,” he protested. “Really, I’m not mad at you anymore. I wanna move on.”

“I wanna move on too,” you said. “But I feel like we have to talk about this because this is a disagreement on something fundamental, and I don’t think you understand that.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like, you were angry at me for taking off my clothes in front of Joe,” you said. “Because of your beliefs, you felt like it was disrespectful. I don’t know any other way to tell you that I don’t share those beliefs and you can’t force them on me.”

“I don’t want to force them on you,” he said. “But I think that you should be more aware of our feelings in this and behave - y’know - properly.”

That familiar anger stirred in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay, Luke, I behaved just fine -”

“Really?” he scoffed. “Getting naked in front of a guy on your first date with him is fine behavior?”

You could have screamed.

“Oh my God,” you sighed. “Let’s get one thing straight, okay? I can do whatever the hell I want. This is my journey, it’s my body, and whatever I decide to do with it is up to me and not subject to your approval.”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to help you,” he said gently. “I prayed about it, and I feel like my purpose here is to save you.”

“To save me?” you questioned.

“You’re being led astray by these other men,” he said. “But together, we can -”

“Okay, Luke, stop,” you said. “We’re not getting into theological arguments today. Clearly, it doesn’t matter to you that I don’t want to hear it. The other thing we need to address is why you lied about Joe and Ben.”

“I didn’t lie,” he insisted. “I know what I heard.”

“But none of the other guys heard it,” you reminded him. “And if they said it out loud, they said it to someone with ears, so they must have heard it. Just be honest and tell me why you did it.”

“I know I heard that conversation, Y/N,” he said firmly. “I’m not a liar.”

“So literally every other guy in that house is?” you challenged.

“Y/N, please,” he begged. “I love you. I want this more than anything. And look at what we’ve overcome.”

“Luke, we haven’t overcome anything!” you cried. “We’re still working this out because you’re not being honest with me!”

“I’m telling you my truth!” he returned.

A beat passed in uncomfortable silence.

“Do you believe me when I say that I love you?” he asked.

You held his gaze. Then you took a deep breath.

“No,” you said heavily.

He looked away, unable to form words.

Ben: I’m kind of nervous about today. She’s kept him around long enough for me to think there must really be something there that I’m not seeing. I just hope my connection with her is stronger.

You and Luke returned to where Ben was still waiting. Nothing else had been said. You grabbed Ben’s hand and led him away next, desperate for some relief. Luke made you feel like every step of this process was such a battle. Ben excited you, and you hoped he still did.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Okay,” you said. “I’m sorry to put you through this, I know it’s not easy.”

“No worries, love,” he said. “You’re worth all of this. Every part of this journey.”

You smiled, and you felt warmth returning to your body. You realized within seconds of talking to Ben that Luke made you feel cold and closed off. Ben made you feel warm and open. That was the feeling you were looking for.

“How are you?” you asked him.

“I’m perfect, now I’m with you,” he replied. “I’m not going to lie, watching the other guys going out with you throughout the week isn’t easy, but I’m here for the long haul. I’m ready to stick it out if it means you and me at the end.”

You leaned into his chest and hummed happily. He wrapped his arms around you. Then he pressed his lips to the top of your head. You felt cared for and respected.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I was that you believed me last week,” he said. “Knowing that you trust me, and you’re willing to hear from everyone, it makes me fall for you all the more. You’re fair and kind and patient. I dunno how you put up with the lot of us.”

You giggled and then looked up at him.

“Well, you’re all so handsome, it’s hard to stay mad at you,” you teased.

“I see,” he joked back. “You’re just in it for the eye candy.”

“Haven’t you heard?” you asked sarcastically. “I’m actually looking for a trophy husband.”

He chuckled. “It’s almost hard for me to joke about, since I actually like almost everyone.”

You smiled. “Really?”

“You’ve got a fantastic group here,” he said. “As heartbroken as I’d be if it’s not me and you, I know you’d be in good hands.”

“That’s so sweet, Ben,” you said.

You felt such a soft affection for him in this moment. That comment made one thing abundantly clear to you: Ben wanted only what was best for you, whatever made you happiest, even if it wasn’t him. You wondered how he’d never been in love before, when he gave it so freely and selflessly. Your value to him did not hinge on your behavior with the other men.

You chatted with Ben a while longer, just trying to forget about what Luke had said. Plus, you liked Ben a lot and enjoyed talking to him. It was quickly becoming more than liking him, which scared you a little, but you knew he would be there to catch you once you fell. You were still teetering on the edge.

Your decision was made when you returned to where Luke waited. There was no need to give him any more chances. You didn’t trust him anymore, and you had such different beliefs, it never would work out. You sat down and picked up the rose.

“I’m gonna be perfectly honest and say that this was not a very difficult decision for me today,” you said. “So far, this has been the easiest decision I’ve made.”

You looked at Ben and decided to get right to it.

“Ben, will you accept this rose?”

You heard Luke suck in a soft breath as you and Ben stood up. You pinned the rose on him and hugged him tight. Then you looked at Luke.

“Can I walk you out?” you asked.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, still dazed.

“I’ll be right back,” you told Ben.

You and Luke walked together toward the car that was waiting to take him to the airport. Ben heaved a relieved sigh and sat back down with a wide grin on his face.

Back at the house, Joe was closest to the door when he heard it open. The producer was there to take the luggage.

“Guys!” Joe yelled. “It’s happening!”

The rest of the men rushed to the door to find out who it was. They watched with bated breath as the producer’s hand stretched out and grabbed Luke’s luggage. They all roared with delight and began jumping and hugging each other as the door closed again. Luke was leaving at last!

“Hold on, let me get champagne!” Gwilym cried, jogging to the kitchen.

They all followed him, still laughing and congratulating each other. Gwilym handed out the glasses and Joe stood on the counter to make a toast.

“To Ben,” he said. “For getting that f***er out of here at last.”

“To Ben!” the others echoed before taking a drink.

“And to Y/N,” Rami said. “For making the right choice.”

“Y/N!” they cried, and they all downed their drinks.

Back on the date, you walked Luke to the black van waiting for him. You stood outside the door to let him say something.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” you said. “We’re just too different. We have different beliefs, different values. And we couldn’t move past those things.”

“But I love you,” he said.

You shook your head. “I don’t think you do. I think you love the woman that you want me to be. The version of me that you created who does take part in your faith and share that with you. But that’s not who I am.”

“I…” he lost words again.

“I really am sorry,” you said. “I hope you find that person.”

“Thanks,” he said dully.

You opened the door for him. He slid into the seat. You closed the door and watched the car pull away. You were certain you had done the right thing. Luke was so wrong for you in so many ways. But you meant what you said. You were sure that girl was out there somewhere for him. But he was not for you.

You hurried back to Ben and leapt into his arms when you saw him. You kissed him as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“It’s just you and me tonight, baby!” you cried.

“Thank God!” he returned.

That night, you and Ben went to a fine restaurant and had a wonderful dinner. It was similar to your one on one, where the conversation flowed. You talked about serious things and lighthearted things. Neither of you brought up Luke again. Ben looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

After dinner, you walked around nearby and saw a street performer playing the cello. The melody was soaring and beautiful. Ben spun you into his arms and began to sway with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood with him, heart full. He opened his eyes to meet yours.

“Y/N, I’m falling in love with you,” he said simply.

You saw how much he meant it in those beautiful green eyes of his. Tears welled up in yours. You were no longer teetering. You slipped right off the edge.

“I’m falling in love with you too,” you returned, without thinking.

You were not supposed to say “love” to anyone but the person you got engaged to, but you didn’t feel bad about breaking the rules for Ben. He had shown you today how much you meant to him. And he meant that much to you too. If you weren’t with him at the end of this, you wished only for him to have a happy and fulfilling life. You genuinely hoped he was at the end of this though because you weren’t ready to let him go. You weren’t sure you ever would be.

The following day, you once again decided to cancel the cocktail party. You knew where your heart was, and you didn’t want to drag out the whole night when your mind was made up. So when you arrived at the hotel, you were ready.

The hotel had a lovely ballroom on the first floor where you were having the rose ceremony. You walked in and forced a smile. This was going to be a pretty tough one. Two men would be leaving that you really liked.

“Sorry again for the cocktail party,” you said. “But I really am just trying to follow my heart.”

You waited a beat before picking up the first rose. There were only four.

“Joe,” you called.

He walked forward proudly.

“Joe, will you accept this rose?”

“I will.”

He returned to the group. You picked up the next rose.

“Taron,” you said.

He beamed at you and jogged up.

“Taron, will you accept this rose?” you asked with a smile, since his was contagious.

“Of course.”

You pinned it on him and he walked back over. You saw Richard take a deep breath.

“Richard,” you said.

He exhaled before walking over.

“Richard, will you accept this rose?”

“Always.”

As Richard returned to the group, Chris Harrison walked out.

“Y/N, gentlemen,” he said. “This is the final rose tonight. When you’re ready, Y/N.”

You picked up the rose. You found the man you wanted to give it to.

“Allen,” you said.

You saw the relief wash over him as he approached you.

“Allen, will you accept this rose?”

“I certainly will,” he assured you.

He walked back over to the group. Mike and Kenny looked dejected, and you understood why. It was never easy.

“Kenny, Mike, I’m sorry,” Chris said. “Take a moment, say your goodbyes.”

They took a while to say goodbye to the guys, which did sort of make you feel good. You liked that the remaining men were friends.

Kenny came up to you first.

“I’m sorry,” you said, suddenly choking on the words. You weren’t sure when the tears started. “You deserve so much -”

“Don’t, Y/N,” he said gently. “It was a pleasure getting to know you.”

You nodded and he pulled you into a hug.

“You’re gonna be amazing,” he whispered to you.

With that, he left and headed to the car waiting for him. Mike came up next. You actually sobbed. Mike was such a wonderful man, and you hated that you weren’t there with him.

“I’m so sorry,” you sniffled.

“It’s okay,” he assured you with a smile. “You’re beautiful and strong, okay? I know you’ll find your happiness.”

“You will too,” you replied softly.

He reached over to wipe away a tear with his thumb.

“Good luck, Y/N.”

He too, departed.

The remaining men moved forward to engulf you in a group hug. While you were sure of the decisions you had made, you hated to hurt people, and both Kenny and Mike had told you they were falling for you. But you couldn’t get there with them, and it was terrible. They were great guys. You just knew they weren’t right for you.

“So,” you said, fanning your face a bit. “Next, we’re going to -”

“Y/N!” someone bellowed from the lobby of the hotel.

Your brow furrowed.

“Is that…” you trailed off, eyes going wide with horror.

Then he appeared in the doorway of the ballroom.

“Luke!” you cried. “What are you doing here?!”

“I’m not giving up on us,” he said, marching toward you.

His body language looked dangerous. Joe was closest to you and you reached for him. He immediately caught on and wrapped his arms around you, placing himself between you and Luke.

The other men stood in front of the two of you, not allowing Luke any closer.

“She sent you home, Luke,” said Richard darkly. “You can’t be here.”

“I just wanna talk, Y/N,” Luke said, ignoring Richard and trying to look around him. “Y/N, please! I just wanna work this out!”

“Well, I don’t!” you returned. “Just go!”

“I know there’s something here!” he insisted. “There’s gotta be! Don’t give up!”

You peered at him around Joe’s arm.

“No, there isn’t!” you shouted. “You’re scaring me, Luke. Just leave.”

He moved forward, but Ben placed a hand on his chest.

“Not a step closer,” Ben warned.

“Just stay out of this,” Luke spat.

“She asked you to leave, Luke,” Allen said. “So go.”

“No, I’m not giving up,” Luke said.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered into Joe’s chest. “Oh, my God.”

Joe lowered his lips to your ear. “Don’t worry. We’re not gonna let him anywhere near you.”

“This is just crazy,” you went on. “He’s acting crazy.”

“Y/N, please!” Luke continued to plead.

Chris Harrison at last approached, accompanied by security guards. Chris went directly to you.

“What do you wanna do, Y/N?” he asked. “Do you wanna talk to him?”

“No!” you insisted. “I want him to leave!”

“Okay,” Chris said. He turned to Luke. “Luke, it’s time to go.”

The security guards stepped toward him, but he stepped away.

“Wait!” he pressed. “Wait, Y/N - just - please. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me here. That’s the only way I’ll believe it.”

You met his gaze with a scowl.

“I don’t want you here,” you said venomously. “Get out.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging. Then, he straightened up, turned on his heel, and stormed out. You hoped that was the last you ever saw of him.

“You alright?” Joe asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” You looked at Chris. “He did actually leave, right?”

He nodded. “We made sure of it.”

You took a deep breath.

“You wanna tell them where we’re going next?” he asked.

You let yourself smile, even though you were still a bit shaken.

“Yeah,” you said. You addressed the men. “Guys, we’re going to Killarney, Ireland!”

Allen whooped and pumped a fist in the air. You laughed. You knew he’d be excited to be back home in Ireland. But the rest of the guys seemed excited too. You gazed at them in awe. It was hard to believe that you had already narrowed it down to seven guys. Seven incredible guys. You couldn’t ask for more.

That night, as you packed in your hotel room, you heard a knock at the door. For a moment, you feared Luke had come to speak to you again, but you told production you didn’t want him near you. Still, you peeked through the peephole before answering. The man behind it took your breath away. You thought your eyes were playing tricks on you. It couldn’t be! Could it?

You opened the door apprehensively.

“Jamie?”

To be continued…

129 notes · View notes

punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

James & Ava

James: Good morning

James: how are you, darling?

Ava: Sleepy 🥱

Ava: but all the better starting my day with you, of course

Ava: how about you? 😊

James: hopeful that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, because likewise

James: & my cautious optimism doesn’t extend to the viewing I’m currently heading to

Ava: Oh, how have they oversold this one, I wonder

Ava: the adverts are nothing short of epic fiction

Ava: there should be awards for how they can spin any - into like +++

Ava: Where are you headed?

James: it would be inspirational if I were solely doing research for the novel but alas I need a suitable study first

James: [somewhere that’s one of the places we discounted]

Ava: I can believe estate agents are all unfulfilled creatives, definitely

Ava: I’ll 🤞 all my fingers and toes that it’s the one

Ava: though I could tell you more pubs and clubs in that area than nurseries…

James: absolutely up there with the teaching profession in terms of both dashed dreams setting them on that path & a litany of thankless tasks once they get there

James: thank you though

James: I’ll let you know if it constitutes enough of a disaster to warrant theoretically drowning my sorrows, after all, there isn’t a huge difference between some of the clubs Teddy frequents & soft play so I’ve no doubt my aide for today would be thrilled to hear every suggestion

Ava: You cannot make me feel bad for teachers today

Ava: not when Mr Hawthorne has beat you to it with the against argument in the form of his 🥱 inducing lectures

Ava: 😅 I don’t think foam parties are safe for anyone, 1-year-olds especially so though

James: there’s an argument to be made that I possess the ability to do so, however, if I’m going to use my powers of persuasion for anything 😈 I would argue it is indeed wasted on Mr Hawthorne

James: oh well in that case, the hunt for my sister’s baby shower venue also continues

Ava: If you used your powers of persuasions on Mr Hawthorne, I might be a tiny bit jealous

Ava: not to mention almost as confused as he would undoubtedly be

Ava: Joy of joys

Ava: it would be typical for that to be added to your to-do list as well, but at least a place for grown women to eat chocolate bars out of nappies isn’t as much like gold dust as a decent place in central

James: I’m jealous that he’s spending time with you right now, despite your attention being less than rapt & therefore promise to do nothing that benefits him in any way whatsoever

James: including, but not limited to, refusing to assist you in the homework he intends to set by being as distracting as I can later as well as now

James: you’re not wrong, but she is her belief that to this day I remain blacklisted by an extremely high percentage of clubs, thus sparing me being delegated the role even in these hypothetical planning stages

Ava: That would be a wild rumour, even for this place

Ava: and what can I say? You’re more worthy of my time and attention

Ava: as you’ve just proved 😍

Ava: Definite blessing in disguise

Ava: Will it be a women-only event?

James: I’d be lying if I didn’t say I miss you & am always willing to prove how much at every given opportunity

James: god, I hope so, even a foam party isn’t enough of an incentive to get me there if I am expected

Ava: I miss you too

Ava: I can come see you tonight though, if you’re free

Ava: sadly, I don’t think I can make a soft-play date so that’ll have to be just you two

Ava: and you’re lucky, I’ve been to so many baby showers it’s not even funny

James: I’m supposed to work late to make up the time I’ve taken off this morning but I can do that when you’re busy

James: that’s a shame, I’ll have to throw myself in the ball pit

James: time will tell if you have an invite to Diana’s, what’s incredibly lucky is that she won’t expect you to actually attend regardless of how you RSVP

Ava: Only if you’re sure

Ava: my plans can always be more fluid than yours

Ava: Ugh 😞 I’d LOVE to push you into a ball pit right now, life is unfair

Ava: I don’t think she was impressed with my party-planning skills enough to put in that call

James: I am very sure that I want to spend tonight with you instead of at the office

James: & I’m also suddenly determined to create our very own ball pit in the new place

James: [pictures like which room do you think we should fill with plastic balls lol but let’s say it’s all really small]

James: having to forgo a traditional master bedroom isn’t at all unfair, I’ll obviously sleep like a baby among the balls

Ava: 🥰

Ava: An absolute must

Ava: why brag of a ‘cosy’ third bedroom when you can boast a gigantic ball pit

Ava: I bet the girls would be more than willing for you to do that too

Ava: Party house has a whole new meaning 🥳

James: indeed

Ava: I hope there’s not too many people there this time though, really

James: I think there are more people here than at the last viewing we went to, impossible as that sounds

Ava: 😫 How, where do all these people spring from?!

Ava: At least you’re far more eligible than most young professionals

Ava: If I was looking for a model renter

James: what a pity you aren't, your rooftop garden has much greater appeal for this particular young professional, not least because I've seen its existence with my own eyes

Ava: If my landlords weren’t so involved…

Ava: This place is far too big for us now

James: hopefully they won't drag you along on yet more insufferable viewings if, or when, they decide to downsize since you're an undeniable pro now, because for that, there would only so many apologies I can offer you

Ava: I’m sure mum’s already getting the planning permission sorted for if and when

Ava: Sadly their portfolio doesn’t extend to a reasonable price range, I did ask

Ava: but if it isn’t something that would get her in Architect Digest, or whatever, she’s not interested so

Ava: As you said, it would be fun in a way, if all this looking didn’t mean you were still without your perfect family home

Ava: It takes people watching to a new level, and seeing the landlord’s ‘decor’ choices is also as revealing

James: it's okay, being indebted to my own parents is quite enough

James: it's becoming clear if my father visualizes me living here it's because he's done a drastic rewrite of the type of young professional I am

James: I could see you here, for instance, in a draft where I don't exist as your love interest, but in terms of a family home, perfect of otherwise, where we'd put Frank & the children is anyone's guess

James: perhaps some of these people are imagining wild architecture projects the likes of which your mother would have to act undaunted by, who's to say

Ava: I don’t love that rewrite

Ava: Frank is particularly demanding with how much space he needs to recline, relax, snooze and sleep…

Ava: You’ll find somewhere soon, I know it

Ava: If nothing else, this dull lesson is giving me all the time to refresh and refresh and repeat every listing I can find

James: cautious optimism as ever for our 2nd attempt

James: [deets because I'm gonna say that this is one he ends up loving that falls through somehow at some stage because how real and frustrating and then she can be the one who finds their forever home and they can look at it together]

Ava: Okay, I can picture that one

Ava: light and airy isn’t actually a lie this time, what a concept

Ava: 😍

Ava: All the rooms are a good size so you wouldn’t feel as if either girl was getting the short straw, and you won’t have to settle for sleeping amongst the balls either

James: I do have a genuinely good feeling about it, terrifying as that is to admit in our present surroundings where it feels as though someone will sense it & immediately swoop in, but yes

Ava: I know

Ava: It’s one of those things

Ava: You have to be cautious, because so many roadblocks are between you and the end goal

Ava: but similarly, how can you be, when it’s such a big life thing

Ava: You can be as honest and optimistic as you like with me, it doesn’t need to go any further, shark-like buyers and the girls alike

James: we aren’t anywhere close to the stressful moving in stage & I’m already acutely aware that I wouldn’t have survived up until now without your help, so I will, as long as you know the continued support is appreciated beyond words or any other measure

Ava: Stressful, but fun

Ava: you get to pick what colour your new room is 😌

Ava: It’ll be reward enough, to see you get the fresh start you deserve

James: [whatever her fave colour is] of course

James: then you won’t mind seeing me covered from head to toe in it, potentially indefinitely, when we discover I can’t fit in the tub at the new place either

Ava: Oh, I don’t think I would mind that no matter the colour

Ava: but I also would not mind you having an amazing shower so we could take care of that

James: if there isn’t I won’t mind adding it to my renovations to-do list

Ava: As long as I’m on that list too I’m happy

James: the top of any list I write is where I’m happy to put you

Ava: If you put in a bid, you should do it at/even over asking price, so they’ll take attention of you and then you can make a list of repairs/quality checks etc you want done before you agree to move in, then if they do them, they’re done for you, but more likely, they’ll not want to, and you can say take that cost off my offer then

Ava: one of the 💡 tips I’ve picked up and you’d undoubtedly thought of yourself but there we go

James: here’s where I could nod & keep up the pretense to avoid giving away what a total novice I am, but there’s very little point given than you know I’ve never done this, & a list of countless other things as long as my arm, for myself before

James: instead I’ll just take your advice & thank you accordingly

Ava: There’s so much we don’t get prepared for

Ava: even under normal circumstances

Ava: It isn’t as if I was told that at school, or I get told anything vaguely useful on the day-to-day by Hawthorne or any of the others worse or marginally better than him

Ava: You shouldn’t feel like you’re alone in feeling unprepared, is what I’m failing to say

Ava: Lots of people feel it, that’s why I could never just stay here, in the bubble of SW forever

James: don’t worry, you aren’t failing at anything where this conversation is concerned & whilst it is somewhat overwhelming at times, I don’t feel alone because I’ve got you to talk it through with

James: what that school taught me, all that living here has taught me, was how to avoid facing up to situations by lying & name dropping, which probably would assist me in climbing the property ladder but I’d rather be honest, if the bubble bursts as a result, I’m prepared for that from now on

Ava: I’m proud of you

Ava: and the girls will be too

Ava: It can be fun, and there are some good people here, just as there are everywhere

Ava: but outside of the postcode, the currency of who you know and where you went to school, it’s just not real, irrelevant

Ava: I don’t want to rely on my parents’ hard work, let alone someone else’s father knowing the crest on my blazer, you know

James: yes, I know exactly what having to rely on my father feels like, it isn’t fun or something to be proud of & it definitely isn’t a precedent I’d like to keep setting for my daughters

James: the stark reality & contrast of this fresh start needs to happen soon, while I still have Jay here to teach

Ava: She’s not going anywhere

James: she’s going to have to meet him eventually even if that’s under the guise of him being one of my old friends or your brother

Ava: And I understand that that’s fair

Ava: to him, I don’t know how to feel about it in regards to Jay, and it’s not even my job to so I know how hard this must be for you

Ava: but that doesn’t mean he should get to ‘keep’ her, for God’s sake, she has had no idea who he is until now, you’re her dad

James: I have to hope that he’ll understand that too, he’s not the villain here, as much as it would make my life easier to paint him as such

Ava: I hope so too

James: it’ll be okay, for her, I don’t know if I can make the same promise for us but I want to be able to

Ava: Don’t put yourself down like that

Ava: It wouldn’t be okay if she lost you

James: she isn’t going to lose me whatever Buster decides to do next, things may have to change but never that drastically, I’ll always be in her life

Ava: Providing he plays that nicely

Ava: I’m just scared he’ll do something that drastic, and stupid

James: if he doesn’t I won’t, I’m not afraid to fight fire with fire should that be the only option he leaves me with

Ava: Good

Ava: I wish I could promise it won’t be

Ava: but I don’t know what he will be prepared to do, so you should be prepared for any and all eventualities too

James: I am, my marriage made sure I was equipped to anticipate the unexpected & not to expect rational responses

Ava: Yeah, of course

Ava: Still no word from Chloe?

James: no & no trace of a belated birthday card

Ava: Typical

Ava: Good thing Mattie got spoiled by you and had a great party already

James: Jay is devastated she has to wait so long for you to throw one for her though, maybe we can find a way to cater the housewarming party to her

Ava: Awh, bless her

Ava: If there’s one thing Chelsea HAS taught me, is that you only need a vague notion of an idea to have a party and celebrate

Ava: Does she like fireworks?

James: she LOVES fireworks, if you weren’t in Dublin she’d have insisted you come with us to [wherever we’re gonna go see some on the night]

Ava: I am pretty gutted I can’t

Ava: but I’ll have to get some sparklers, probably not Catherine Wheels or Roman Candles, and do a belated bonfire themed do for her

Ava: smores are a good idea any night

James: I wonder if she’ll expect us to dye her hair red, orange or yellow this time

Ava: 😬 accidentally set a precedent

Ava: thank god for washouts

James: I’ll do what I can to have her convinced that face paint is a much better idea by the time you get back but she’s no Mr Hawthorne so

Ava: I admire a girl who requires more than a persuasive essay

Ava: you’ll have a great time

Ava: 🤞 the endless family drama doesn’t get in the way of me having one too

James: no amount of Catherine Wheels or Roman Candles could prevent me from being on the end of the phone whether you aren’t having a great time or simply want to tell me how much fun it is

Ava: You’re the best ❤️

Ava: It should be fine

Ava: If anything, hopefully someone else is bringing more drama than my parents or siblings could accuse me of, then it’ll really give them a bit of perspective 🤫

James: if your family resembles the dynamic of mine even slightly I won’t have to keep anything crossed in order to make that happen for you, but of course I will nevertheless, just in case

Ava: How soon is too soon to clue you in on my mad family dynamic 🤔😅

Ava: Maybe when you’re in your new home, so you have a door to politely shut in my face

James: having never kept an air of mystery there I can understand why you’d want to, but I would never christen my new front door like that

Ava: It was like an unspoken rule, when Buster was here too

Ava: I don’t really care that much, and anyway, he broke it big time

Ava: Every family has struggles and secrets, or are long overdue their share if not

James: I couldn’t agree more, my mother acts as though nobody else has skeletons hung up next to their hideously expensive coats & we must stay silent come what may, but she’s the last person to feign shock when any of said secrets inevitably come out

Ava: It’s such a waste of time and energy

Ava: not to mention resolves precisely (0) of said troubles, if and when they can be

Ava: I’m so glad you don’t want to keep up pretenses together

Ava: wouldn’t make for a very interesting story

James: exactly, if I adhered to her code of silence I wouldn’t have gone to rehab or spent any time & energy on recovery, god knows what trouble I’d be in right now in that instance, but we certainly wouldn’t have this plotline to delight in

Ava: Being dubious about the potential results, maybe

Ava: but the idea your own mum would rather you suffer in silence, literally, is beyond me

James: it’s an attitude worthy of an outdated classic novel, for sure, that we can all take ourselves in hand & address our flaws with a firm word or two but she isn’t alone in her 'you don't need outside help, you just need to learn and then follow through with setting your own limits' mentality

James: in my parents' defence I was still young, despite the baby I wasn't looking after properly or the wedding I don't remember very much of at all, & I know they'd argue, if pressed, that was the main reason for their anti-rehab stance

James: therefore, I'd like to believe, however naively perhaps, on this occasion it isn't entirely about saving face with yet more pretense but rather a glimpse at some character development for both of them, if only so the novel isn't doomed by one dimensional subplots, naturally

Ava: I can see that too, again, a lot of people’s problems go unaddressed or at least are allowed to get worse because the person is ‘too young’ for it to either be a problem, or it is something they will ‘bounce back’ from once they ‘calm down’ and mature

Ava: It doesn’t make your parents the devil, I wouldn’t suggest as much, nor the first people to fall into that trap

Ava: There are definitely instances of the exact same mindset I can point to within my own family

Ava: We’d all like to see the best in people, and sometimes, that desire lets us down

James: regardless this viewing has yet to let me down unlike the previous

James: I wish you were here

Ava: With any luck, I’ll be able to come see it with you next time

Ava: The pictures look great, trying to keep the optimism at the cautious level still but 🤞🤞😌

James: need I remind you I like your optimism as unabashed as your excitement

Ava: You don’t need to

Ava: but I wouldn’t be opposed

James: [tell her about whatever cute and romantic plans you've sorted for you two tonight so she'll be happy and excited]

Ava: How have you managed to sort that whilst at these viewings and also with Mattie 😍

James: it appears I’m guilty of similarly high levels of enthusiasm & so the greater crime would be letting it go to waste

Ava: AND being an excellent multi-tasker AND AND an even greater romantic

James: Mattie can & will take full credit for the former but the romanticism is a newly acquired skill that I’m still trying to find my feet with, & entirely down to you

Ava: I should feel bad for keeping it all for myself

James: I disagree but I’ll happily rush through the book’s publication if sharing will make you feel better

Ava: Should doesn’t mean would or could

Ava: because I don’t

Ava: It’s nice not being secret, but I’m still happy keeping you to myself for a while longer

James: oh good, because I’d rather continue to multitask like this than on a novel deadline

Ava: Being anything but a reprieve from all the other drains on your time is not very romantic heroine of me, so never

Ava: what would the readers think

James: you’ve got me there, by evoking how fickle our readers are more than likely to prove themselves to be, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about

Ava: You either think the protagonist is ‘relatable’ or you hate her because you deserve the love interest far more than her

James: nobody deserves me more than you, they’ll have no choice but to appreciate you

Ava: James

James: Ava

Ava: I can’t wait to see you later

James: can I pick you up from school or do you need to go home first?

Ava: I don’t need to go home 😊

James: I’ll see you there then, unfortunately, I have work to get back to & I’ve kept you from yours for longer than I responsibly should have, lest you end up at Kings after all

Ava: 🙄 I’m sure my career’s officer would tell me they’re higher in the rankings or something else that isn’t going to change my mind more than your experience and my own, however brief

Ava: If I were rating them on chance, perfect meetings, however

Ava: A++

Ava: I’ll see you later then, try not to get TOO exhausted by soft play 😏❤️

James: I’ll be certain to tell them now that’s not a secret, it wouldn’t surprise me if they used us a ringing endorsement for some kind of meet-cute society to take place weekly in The Vault

James: the allure of soft play meanwhile needs no advertising, with or without any single mothers trying to engineer romantic entanglements of their own

Ava: I’ll square that with my conscience and you run that gauntlet, love

James: I’ll do my best

1 note · View note

unikornu · 3 years

Photo

Graceful Sin,

(shortie - words 2,223)

“After another argument between Lucy and Gage, the Overboss storms off to Parlor where she catches on a private moment with her pre-war boss, Harrison that recently made a come back to Nuka World. “

______________________

It was late and silent evening at Nuka Town with the exception of shouts coming from the Fizztop mountain which belonged to well known crocked couple, Gage and Lucy, arguing once again about Institute deals she forgot to mention and all confusion about newly arrived guest, Harrison, her pre-war shady employer. Lucy wasn’t the one to handle long arguments, especially against someone as stubborn and loud in complains like her fellow raider, no longer being able to stand the tension she turned around and just left, pushing the door behind her and going towards the elevator with a rapid steps, her blond braids swaying after her and hands clenched, moving to the sides.

- Boss, shit, where the hell ya going again? Let’s just finish the talk, c’mon. Gage followed, almost ran after, grabbing her under the arm before she entered the elevator.

- We finished. The Institute deals are staying if you like it or not and so will our guest. She forced her arm out of his grip and looked at him, squinting her eyes in a threatening manner.

- A bit longer and they will settle up their own fucking lab right here with even bigger bunch of fucking synths. Even if Gage hoped for her to stay he just couldn’t let the complains go and it certainly didn’t help to calm down the atmosphere.

- He is not a regular synth but still a person Gage! And neither at Institute side, when will you fucking understand it and just let it go, jezz. Lucy snapped back at him and entered the elevator, pushing the button and refusing to listen anything Gage was still shouting through the closing in front of him door.

She leaned against the wall and sighted deeply, letting the nerves float away till elevator hit the bottom. Harrison arrival brought some good and bad news. Good for her that she managed to claim something back from her pre-war life, more than just a thing or souvenir but an actual same person she spend her last years with, before the world went to shit. Bad because even if Harrison was avoiding the Institute like a worst omen he failed to prevent from becoming bigger, Gage had a really hard time to see a remaining soul of an actual human he was and still is under the synth skeleton wearing his skin like a costume, not mentioning all the experiment that made him a supernatural entity, his soul possessing the body he still managed to recover from the pre-war lab. For Lucy it didn’t matter, since in the end they had each other and did care despite all the toxic work crime relations they went through.

Every time she was down Parlor always found a way to calm her mind, be it a theatrical rich environment of it, calm music and bottle of booze along with it, just chilling at the decorated by red silky cloth table with her legs rested on top of it, candle burning slowly in the background, letting her to light a cigarette. This time was no different with the only exception that it was empty, only a familiar tall figure leaning against a wall, Harrison himself, wearing his usual long gray shiny coat, smooth and clean, always looking like a gentleman that lost a feeling of time.

- Tough break, Feit? He nodded at her from under his round classic hat, sending her a shiny green glance.

- It’s that visible, is it? She asked in response, dropping heavily onto the chair and lighting up a cigarette.

- I know you too well so i see it instantly and sense too...in a way. Porter eh? Bitching again? He smirked with a corner of his lips already knowing the answer.

- Bitching? You seem to catch a local language quite fast, sir. She smirked back at him in a distance and puffed a smoke in the air, leaning back onto the chair.

- No choice but to try to fit in, helps to take away more of these curious eyes off me. If synth gossip cause such a stir around i would rather not let anyone find out what i am. He pushed himself off the wall and approached her, grabbing a chair on a way and taking a sit at the other side of the table.

- Institute still has no fucking clue about you and i will keep it that way. She crushed a smoke in the ashtray and placed her elbows onto the table, palms of her hands supporting her tired pale face, wearing a signs of stress from at least few days. Harrison noticed it.

- When did you....how to say it, chill out last time, Feit? You look like shit, no offense of course. He raised his thick black eyebrow at her.

- I don’t remember, it has been quite a busy time, cleaning after the bloody disciples and trying to set you up here, spread some believable information...i completely lost track of time. She brushed the inner corners of her eyes with fingers and looked back at him as he stood up and started turning his head around.

- What are you looking for? She asked, curiously.

- Something to help you relax, of course. His eyes stopped at the old pre-war gramophone, still with a famous golden tube attached to it and a vinyl inside. He waved his hand, a bright green stroke of energy with smoke flew out of his palm as he wiggled his fingers towards it, putting a vinyl into a gentle spin as the needle slowly lowered to let the parlor room fill with the slow blues tunes.

- Nice trick. I think i remember this song. Lucy mind flew back to the times when there were still bars and dance pubs, filled with couples, talking, drinking and dancing after the work, including her but the only partner she remained with that time was the half empty bottle of booze.

- Me too. Harrison’s mind flew to the same pub she was sitting in that time but lacking a courage and clear reason to enter and just join her, especially hours ago his hands were all stained in her partner’s blood. He didn’t dare to even let the thought slip in his head but now that all reasoning and past got buried with nukes he took down his hat, placing it on table in front of her and leaned down, offering her a hand.

- You up for a short dance, to forget all that crap you seem to occupy yourself with now? The usual grumpiness of his face got replaced with an honest and soft smile, almost impossible to resist and say no.

- Dance? I never thought you can dance, sir. Lucy couldn’t deny she loved to dance but in a raider world it was a very rare activity and with usual folks around it barely resembled a classic pre-war swinging. She hesitated for a moment but eventually placed a palm in his hand and let herself be pulled gently up.

- You still don’t know many things about me, Feit but yes, i can dance. My wife used to praise me before she kicked me out of our life. He looked down at her, realizing she might have a slightly harder time with their size difference.

- I feel like you gained a few centimeters since last time we met. She pointed out.

- Most probably...hmmm, maybe these will help. He looked towards a pair of high heel black sandals lying under one of the tables and used his powers once again to lift them up in the air and slowly bring into her hands.

- I think i left them there after last meeting with operators. She crouched down and swiftly changed her shoes, straightening up and arriving almost at Harrison’s chin.

- You already seem happier. So...shall we? He lifted his left hand up to the side, awaiting for her to grab it before he placed his other hand at her back.

- We shall. It’s been a while, indeed. She couldn’t hide her smile, swinging was always brightening her mood in no time, especially with a good company that knew how to properly lead.

- Sorry for shooting you...back then. Lucy apologized with a low, almost whispering voice, trying to fill a moments of silence between them.

- Well, i guess i deserved it in the end. He chuckled, his eyes brightening up in even lighter shade of green the longer they danced together. - Too bad the Institute made it alive in the end.

- At least they provide us some good weaponry we wouldn’t have otherwise. She shrugged, what has been done its done, she could only try to benefit from it.

- You got yourself quite a position here, being a what they call... Overboss, ordering people around and getting the job done, like you always did. He raised his arm and spun her around, pulling afterwards back and close to him, pausing for a moment, staring down at her.

- I never liked to be in charged so i’m glad you got back eventually. Even after two hundred freaking years you are still my boss, sir. She smiled at him, ignoring the sudden blush appearing lightly on her cheeks.

- Hah, you didn’t change one bit, i’m glad. He said with a lower voice, smiling back.

- Neither did you.

He pushed off a strand of hair from her face, slowly leaning closer and closer to meet her amber gaze. She froze in place, not backing off but highly uncertain with the next move, her mind storming the thoughts as she couldn’t deny she enjoyed his company but image of Gage and their relations still made her turn away as their lips almost met.

- Shit, i..can’t. I mean... it feels awkward. Lucy admitted, dropping her troubled face to the floor.

- Uhm..no, its my fault, i enjoyed that little moment of ours a bit too much i guess, i apologize. He backed off, softening the grip on her hand, letting her to slip it away, turning his eyes to the side.

- Don’t worry, i still liked it, got my mind a bit off the usual shit. She brushed her shoulder and looked back at him, reassuring that this little accident didn’t ruin their view of each other.

- I think it’s better i get back to setting up myself at that disciple place. He walked towards a table, taking his hat and putting if back on his head, hiding the worry that his face was wearing till Lucy patted his shoulder as she approached him.

- Still thank you...for sticking around, i’m really glad to see you again...despite everything that happened. She said, with an honest soft voice that took away his sudden worry away.

He nodded back at her and left towards the exit, meeting Gage on his way out. They only looked at each other, almost saluting but not letting a single word out.

- Hey Boss...can we...? Gage paused, hearing the weird blues coming out of the gramophone, his face turning into a slight confusion.

- What’s up with that weird ass music? He asked, taking a slow steps towards her.

- What, you don’t like it? She asked, tapping the heel of her boost to the wooden floor in the rhythm of the sound.

- Can’t say, i’m just not used to it. He glanced down at her shoes and then slowly back up at her, crossing her arms, awaiting the continuation of his thoughts that brought him to Parlor.

- So...what else you have to say that you didn’t say yet. She tapped a finger against her crossed arms, looking at him at the same level this time, thanks to her heels.

- Right...fuck, maybe i went a bit too far with all that...talk we had before. Maybe it ain’t that bad. He brushed a back of his head with a palm.

- So, you are sorry. She couldn’t resist an evil smirk, sensing the apology in his voice.

- Yeeeeah, shit. Gage never liked to admit he was wrong or exaggerated in any way but ruining what they had would have been even worse in the end and he knew that.

- I can forget about it faster if you swing me properly around since i still have these on. She pointed down, sending him a seductive smile that he could hardly resist even if she was asking him for something he didn’t like as much as she was but in the end he was still agreeing for her good.

- Don’t worry, no one is looking right now. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, forcing his hands onto her back, right up her bottoms.

- You are asking for a lot here, Boss. He still grinned despite the soapy atmosphere surrounding them.

- You can always say no and turn away, Gage. She smiled and raised her eyebrow at him.

- I wouldn’t fucking dare. He took up on a challenge and pushed her even closer, bumping their foreheads and letting themselves be lost in their gaze as they swinged into the remaining track till the vinyl ran out of power, letting it end with a most tender kiss they both hungered for after every argument, let it be forgotten in a matter of seconds but her mind still drifted away for a split moment about Harrison’s move...

4 notes · View notes

glitterdreamsz · 4 years

Text

Wrapped Around Your Fingers (Part 1)

Pairing: Roger x reader, Brian x Reader Summary: Roger and (Y/N) usually hooks up and made it clear that there will be nothing more than sex. But what happens when Brian asks reader out? A/N: I AM FUCKING BACK!!! I missed you so much guys and i am so happy to be back here after a really shitty and depressing time, i swear i won’t disappear again. I hope you will like this series. And don’t worry, me writing something new doesn’t mean that i won’t keep writing A Penny For Your Thoughts and dad!roger stuff Warnings: smut, swearing, bad writing, english is not my first language so grammar mistakes Words: +2.3k

October 2019 “(Y/N)!” Mary greeted hugging you tightly. “Sorry, I’m late, as always” you said chuckling “Been stuck at work once again” “Oh don’t apologise to me” she nudged your arm and let you walk in the apartment. There were orange, black and red decorations everywhere, you could tell that Freddie really tried his best for that Halloween party. “But maybe you should apologise to that blonde fella down there” Mary said gesturing towards Roger who was sipping his drink while talking with Freddie “He kept grumbling where you were and why you didn’t come at the studio like you said you would have” You shook your head smiling “Then I’d better go over there before he will come at the museum looking for me.” Both girls walked to the two guys who were talking about some new music for their band “Here you finally are!” Freddie exclaimed once he saw you “Right in time for taking a picture of us” and with that, he took Mary’s hand pulling her close to him and next to Roger. “Nice costume Rog” You chuckled putting the camera in front of your eye and looking at the drummer who was wearing a clown hat and a giant wooden ribbon.

“Shut up” he groaned after you took the picture “At least I dressed like something and not wearing a boring black dress. Let me guess, should you be a sexy witch?” he smirked walking closer to you. “Excuse me?” You lifted up some rose steams that you were holding in your left hand “I’m Morticia Addams, how can’t you get it?” “Oh so original” Roger joked “But as soon as you put those flowers down you’ll become a witch.” he said wrapping his arm around your waist and moving you closer to his body. “A very sexy one” he almost whispered in your ear. “I got it” you chuckled “This dress shows out my boobs, you don’t need to remark it for the whole night.” “I could remark though the fact that you didn’t reply to any of my messages nor any of my calls today. You were supposed to come to the studio, we recorded some new stuff.” He made it sound like he was offended but you knew that everything was fine since you at least showed up at the party. “I had to work more than I thought and you know, you aren’t supposed to answer your phone while you’re working.” “I still wonder how you manage to work all those hours, don’t you ever get tired?” “No” you shrugged “I like my job.” “Don’t you ever get tired of talking about some paintings done by other people every single day?” “I studied for it Rog” you smiled “I like talking about painting to other people.” “Have you two done being antisocial?” Freddie broke your conversation and as you turned around you could see that John and Brian were standing next to him. “Hi (Y/N)” Deaky greeted you with a nod of his head. “We have never met before” The tall curly boy said “But I’m Brian” he reached out to shake your hand and you smiled while doing it. “Yes, we’ve never met before but I could say that I already know who you are. I’m (Y/N) by the way.” “Wait, you’ve never met Brian?” Freddie asked almost shocked. “No” Roger answered for you. “He spent the last months in the hospital and at home because of his hepatitis and that never made him met her before.” When people saw you and Roger they thought you knew each other for years. Truth is that you’ve met him only five months ago. You broke up with your boyfriend and you wanted to have only girls night out with your friends. That night you ended up in a pub in which this band Queen was playing. By the end of the show you were pretty tipsy and what you remember was that you went home with the drummer of the band and you had quite an eventful night. That wasn’t, though, the last night you saw him. He asked for your number and texted you any time they had a gig around the town. Neither you nor he wanted anything serious, you just came out of a three years old relationship and he, well, he was all about rock and roll and groupies. So that was the agreement you came out with: only sex, no feelings. You could be good friends but nothing more. “So, now that we all know each other, who wants a drink?” Freddie asked with a bottle of wine in his hand “Let’s get this party started!” he almost shouted for how excited he was. ***

“Let’s go home” Roger whispered in your ear. Those words gave you goosebump and you didn’t know if it was because you already knew what would have happened at his flat or for the atmosphere that there was at that exact moment. His cologne filling your lungs, your back pressed against his chest, your hips that swang against his, his arms wrapped around your waist. “Now?” you asked as you didn’t stop moving to the sound of the loud music. “Everybody’s still here.” “And so?” “So, everyone will see us leaving and they will definitely know that we left to have sex.” “Since when do you care?” “It’s just that it’s Freddie’s party.” “You haven’t been at my place for the whole week because of your job.” His lips started to leave a trail of kisses along your neck. He knew all your weak points. “And I really need you, right now” Roger proved his point pressing his hips closer to yours and you bit your lower lip as you felt his hardening against your bum. “I have to find Freddie and let him know that we’re leaving.” You could feel Roger smirk against your skin when those words left your mouth. “Don’t worry love, I’ll text him later that we were in a rush but we enjoyed his party.” You didn’t have the time to object since Roger took your hand and made his way to the door. “My car’s on the back” he said handing you your jacket “Wait for me here outside. You just nodded and walked outside the main front door. “Already leaving?” You turned around and saw a tall figure next to you, Brian. “Yep, Roger was getting a bit bored.” ****

It was all a rush. The door slammed behind Roger’s back as his lips were on yours, your hands through his hair as you pulled him closer. You didn’t want to waste any time as your fingertips started to unbutton his shirt. You have both waited a whole week for this, you weren’t sure if Roger had slept with any other girl in the meantime but you surely didn’t see any other guy, you were way too busy to see anybody else. Your lips found their way down to his chest which was moving up and down with his heavy breaths “Let’s go to my bedroom” Rog managed to say as his arms pulled you up and guided you down the hallway. In just a few seconds your clothes were off, just as were Roger’s, both of your eyes full of lust, both of your hands couldn’t leave each other’s body. You stepped to his bed pulling Roger with you, you left some bites on his neck as he hovered you. Your hand went down to his shaft and started to move back and forth. Roger laid his head against your shoulder as some soft moans left his lips. “Let’s not tease, let’s just fuck, it’s been a whole week since I’ve done anything” “Then…stop wanking m-me” the blonde managed to say. “Or I’ll come” “Wow Roger Taylor, are you really this weak?” you teased him, a smirk on your face. “You’re not the only one who didn’t have sex for a whole week.” He told as his hand went down to stop yours from its actions. “No groupies?” you frowned. “Will you just shut up?” “Or?” you smirked teasing him. “Just shut up” Roger mumbled as his lips found yours and his hand reached down your wrist to stop your movement and remove your hand from his hood. Your fingertips were pressed on his back as you felt him slide inside of you, his forehead pressed against yours as his breaths became heavier. “Fuck, I missed this” Roger managed to say. You moved your hips upwards as to tell Roger that you wanted him to move “Already so eager?” he asked still not moving, he wanted to feel you as much as he could and needed some time not to come too soon. “Will you just shut up?” you mocked him trying to mimic his voice tone. Roger shook his head chuckling as he started “Happy now?” You pulled him closer to you and kissed him “Shut up” you mumbled as the kiss deepened. “Let’s change position” Roger suggested as his lips were on the valley of your breasts. “What were you thinking?” “You on top” “Oh, you want to keep it vanilla today.” You couldn’t help but keep making jokes about him. That’s how you managed to make the sex less intimate, to see it just as simple sex between two people who just hook up and nothing more. But that wasn’t what Roger was showing at the moment when you were riding him and he decided to sit up. You have never been this close during sex, with your chest pressed against his. His hand reached for a lock of your hair and put it behind your hear, his eyes locked on yours as his thumb traced your lips, this was all new. And you didn’t know what was happening but that didn’t make you run away, it was comfortable, it made your heart beat faster but it was fine.

*****

“Where are you going?” Roger asked as he watched you getting up from his bed and recollecting your clothes. “Home?” you replied as if it was the clearest thing. “Stay the night.” “It’s not what we do” you said looking at him while putting your panties back on. “I know, but it’s four am and I don’t want you to get kidnapped by someone.” He retorted reaching for the cigarettes that were on his bedside table to smoke one of them. “I’ll call an uber and it will arrive just here at your flat so no one will kidnap me.” You moved closed to him and stole the cigarette from his fingers and took some drags. “Come on” he groaned as he sat up “We will see each other tomorrow again, there’s no need for me to stay here.” His hands reached for your hips and you could feel his calloused fingers against your naked skin. Roger made you move between his legs. “Stay” he insisted as his lips left some kisses on your belly and down to your hips bones. “Plus I’m hard again, so there’s a reason for you to stay. “Roger” you chuckled running your hand through his hair as you took another puff of his cigarette. He took that as a positive response and laid back in bed pulling you down with him causing you to laugh.

****

“Morning” Roger greeted you as he held his head up with his hand, his eyes on your naked figure. “Morning.” You smiled as you rubbed your sleepiness away from your eyes. “Did you sleep well?” You nodded in response “Even though you kept stealing my blankets.” “Was that the reason why you snuggled on me?” He had a cocky grin on his lips and you kicked softly his leg to make him shut up, but that only made him laugh. “Don’t you have rehearsals today?” You asked pretended to be offended by his behaviour. “Yes” “And don’t you have to go then?” Roger looked at his phone “I still have one free hour.” “And you have nothing better to do rather than making fun of me?” He snorted acting annoyed “Can I make an important question now?” You nodded looking at him. “What does a poor guy have to do to get a blowjob in the morning?” “I don’t know” you shrugged. “Maybe ask for it in a nice and polite way.” “(Y/N), could you please suck my dick?” he pouted pretending to look cute. “Fine” you sigh trying not to laugh “But only cause you said please.” And with that, you got under the bedsheets.

*******

“Your friend, (Y/N)” Brian said as he put his guitar back on its case. “Hmh” Roger mumbled as he kept a cigarette between his lips and started to pack his drumset. “She seems nice” “Yeah, she’s pretty cool” the drummer nodded not paying attention to his friend. “What’s going on between you two?” Brian asked once he closed the guitar case. Roger turned around to face him, a frown formed on his face. “What do you mean?” “You know, are you two dating? I mean, you seemed quite close” “No” he took another drag on his cigarette “We just fuck, that’s all, nothing more.” “Oh” Brian sat on the floor and drew some imaginary lines on the floor “So, you don’t care if she goes out with other guys?” Roger just shrugged as he kept working on his drum, not understanding why Brian wanted to know so much about your relationship. “Because you know, I was thinking.” The guitarist started to stutter “Would you be mad if I asked her out?” Roger suddenly got up taken aback from what the guitarist just said and that made him hit his drum cymbal with his head. “Fuck” he cursed massaging his scalp. Why did Brian want to date you? He just met you at the party, yes you were drop-dead gorgeous but he didn’t even know you so well. And fuck, Roger just said that you two have sex together so why would Brian want to go on a date with someone who bangs his bandmate? Roger looked at his friend and replied “No, you can ask her out if you want to.”

———————————————–

I couldn’t not add this photo that reader took about Roger, Mary and Freddie at the party

TAGLIST: you can add yourself in here ! if your name is overlined is because damn tumblr didn’t let me add you @queenrrogertaylor @spideyyypeter @rockyroadthepastryarchy @borhapqueen92 @jennyggggrrr @queen-crue

158 notes · View notes

swtorpadawan · 4 years

Text

Breaking Even

“Kriffing Nar Shaddaa.”

Captain Errul Marsh grumbled under his breath as his light freighter, the Devil’s Horn, finally broke orbit from the infamous Smuggler’s Moon. The Zabrak merchant captain – which, sure, made him a smuggler if you wanted to be crude about it – pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. It was getting harder and harder to make even a (moderately) honest living in his line of work, especially where it concerned the Hutts.

But that was the galaxy for you. With war brewing between the Republic and the Empire everyone was quickly picking sides and carving out their territory. The true independents were getting squeezed out or just dying off.

Errul might have done business with the Republic. He might even have appreciated the Republic when they weren’t trying to arrest him over one of their silly ‘law’ things.

But Errul Marsh was, above all, a true independent. He owned his own freighter outright and incredibly he was debt free, even if he was just keeping his head just above water. He’d die with his ship before he gave any of that up.

It was an existence that had its price. He hadn’t seen or even heard from a family member in decades. Friends (the kind who hadn’t tried to stab him in the back, anyway) had been few and far between. Crew and companions aboard his ship had proved fleeting, signing on with him and staying for a time but each eventually leaving when they finally found something better for themselves. Lovers, likewise, came and went. Usually amicably and with no hard feelings, but sometimes only when they realized that the ace smuggler would never be tied down to anything, not even by love.

He didn’t begrudge any of them – family, friends, lovers, all – anything. Everyone in the galaxy was chasing after something and they were welcome to chase it. Many of his old associates – the ones he’d stayed in touch with, anyway – had done well for themselves. Two of his erstwhile proteges were now captaining their own cargo ships. Others were running cantinas or small shipping companies. One had ultimately made a name for herself as a Mandalorian bounty hunter, of all things. Indeed, there were worse legacies a man could leave behind.

Still, as the Zabrak had inevitably advanced deeper into middle age, he recognized that his had become mostly a solitary existence. And he was comfortable with that, but still, every now and then…

Ah, well. Life was too short for regrets.

Regardless, loner or not, he still had to make a living. Paying off those Cartel ‘customs agents’ at the spaceport had cut deeply into his profits on this trip. In fact, after his projected expenses for docking at Carrick Station, what with refueling and the Republic’s precious ‘docking fees’ for non-Republic personnel, he’d barely break even after delivering his cargo of adrenals.

Errul exhaled again. He wasn’t that old for a Zabrak, but he was for an independent smuggler. This life would be the death of him.

Force help him, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The ship wouldn’t be ready to jump to hyperspace for about half an hour, and it wouldn’t reach Carrick for a couple of days yet. Still, there was no reason to prolong anything that needed doing.

Errul rose from his seat, feeling his back ache in protest. He’d been in hundreds (thousands?) of firefights throughout his life, and he could still beat any young up-and-comers on the draw if it came down to it. But the price being paid by his aging body didn’t make it any easier.

Silently telling his back to stow it, the old smuggler made his way to the cargo hold. The room was stocked with pallets full of stim-packs and combat adrenals, and his ‘arrangement’ with the Republic meant that this shipment was bound for their military. With fighting breaking out in so many theaters, the ‘Pubs couldn’t be too choosy these days about from whom they received their supplies.

Errul surveyed the stacks. It was all in order. The Cartel agents had threatened to delay his departure as they ‘processed’ the outgoing cargo and verified the contents. Errul knew that game, and knew how to haggle them down on the inevitable bribe he offered them. The delay would have cost him with the Republic, and he certainly couldn’t let those agents spend too much time in his cargo hold, anyway.

“Barely breaking even.” The Zabrak sighed again as he stomped his foot three times on the floor panel to the right between the pallets.

“You can come out now.” Errul called out to the empty room. “It’s safe.”

It took several seconds, but finally, tentatively, the floor panel slid open, revealing the secret smuggling compartment he had installed years before.

Huddled within, looking up at him with a frightened expression, was a young Twi’lek woman.

She’s still rattled. He reminded himself. He’d have to play this carefully. Very slowly, making no sudden movements, he reached down, offering her his hand.

“It’s safe.” He repeated softly. “Nar Shaddaa is already behind us.”

The woman – the girl he should say – slowly reached up and took his hand. He helped her out of the hold, and she looked around anxiously.

Errul regarded her with care. Looking at her now in the normal lighting of his ship’s cargo hold, she was clearly even younger than he’d originally thought, having met her in the darkened chambers of Donje the Hutt’s extravagant sanctum. She was still wearing the yellow jumpsuit he had given her earlier – it was at least two sizes too large for her, but it had been all he had lying around that she could wear. It was certainly more appropriate than the skimpy ‘slave girl’ outfit she was still wearing beneath it that left nothing to the imagination. (There was no way he was going to have her running around his ship dressed like that, thank you very much.) Her face and lekku were adorned with elaborate markings which Errul judged to be natural Twi’lek birthmarks and not artificial tattoos. She was quite beautiful, with a painfully feminine figure and lovely blue eyes almost matching the shade of her skin. But then, physical attractiveness tended to be a much sought-after trait of Twi’leks working for Hutts.

Certainly, with the female Twi’leks. Errul reflected somberly. Rescuing her from that disgusting Hutt on Nar Shaddaa, ferreting her to the spaceport undetected and smuggling her off-world had pressed even his considerable talents. He didn’t doubt for one moment that both of their lives would get very complicated if the Hutt ever found out what he’d done.

“Donje cannot reach me?” she swallowed, finally looking up at Errul, hopefully. Her hands had slid from Errul’s hand to his arm.

The Zabrak shook his head for emphasis.

“No, that giant slug can’t reach you here. In a while, we’ll be in hyperspace. After that, you’ll be out of Hutt space entirely, and you’ll be as free as a bird.”

The girl blinked up at him with her blue eyes, still gripping his arm for comfort.

“I…. thank you, master.”

Errul shook his head vigorously again. He had to put the kibosh on that idea right away.

“I’m not your master, kid.” He insisted. “Call me ‘Captain’. Or Errul, if you like. You don’t have a master anymore.” Errul tried to give her a comforting look. “That’s what being ‘free’ means.”

The smuggler let that sit with her for a moment. He figured she’d probably been born into slavery… or maybe she’d been taken so young that she didn’t remember anything else. The Twi’lek looked down at the floor, and for a moment, Errul was worried he’d lost her entirely. But after a long moment, she looked back up at him with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“Free.” She whispered, like it was all a dream to her.

Errul grinned. “Free.” He repeated, for emphasis. The Zabrak tilted his head. “What’s your name, kid?”

The Twi’lek swallowed, nervously. Probably she’d been forbidden to use her real name in public. Forced renaming was a common enough practice among Hutt pleasure slaves.

“Rhi’kih.”

Errul then gave her his most charming smile. It was a look that had melted the hearts of hundreds of women over the years. (And, Errul reflected, a handful of men, as well.)

“Are you hungry, Rhi’kih?”

“I…” the Twi’lek looked up at him, uncertain, as she regarded his expression. Finally, her features softened and she swallowed again.

“Yes, I am.”

**********************************

The galley wasn’t much to look at. To be honest, with the Devil’s Horn having only one permanent resident who wasn’t a droid – that being Errul himself – it didn’t really need to be anything special.

Yet another benefit of bachelorhood. Errul reflected. Unlike some of his contemporaries, he disliked over-decoration, preferring the utilitarian to any ostentatious aesthetic.

Nevertheless, he had always tried to keep it fairly well-stocked and in good order for when he did have company, and with the help of his Seetoo droid, it was kept clean as well. At this moment, there were exactly two frozen bantha steaks left, and Errul decided now was as good a time as any to break them out of the freezer and grill them up.

The girl - Rhi’kih, he had to remember – had sat down at the small table only at Errul’s prodding. She was still very skittish, taking everything in with trepidation. He couldn’t blame her, given where she’d been living.

Finally finished preparing the food, he served the steaks up on a pair of plates, along with glasses of blue milk for each of them.

“Here. Eat up.” Errul smiled, taking his own seat after distributing utensils.

The Zabrak took up his knife and fork and then tasted the succulent meat, closing his eyes in pleasure. Out of all the skills he’d picked up over the years, learning how to cook – properly, and not like the bachelor he was – easily ranked in the top three in having improved his personal quality of life, going along with how to pilot a ship and how to talk your way out of a tight spot.

(Shooting a blaster? Oh, don’t be silly. He was born knowing how to do that.)

Opening his eyes again, he noticed that Rhi’kih was merely poking the steak with her fork, clearly troubled over something.

“Something wrong?” he asked, concerned. “Its not undercooked for you, is it?”

“Uhm. No.” She looked down embarrassed. “My… my master never let me use knives. No one taught me.”

Errul cringed inwardly. There were a hundred plus one evils resulting from slavery. One of the most underrated was the lack of basic life skills many oppressed people suffered from even after finding their freedom. It could keep them on the fringes of society forever, and perhaps, more likely to end up in the desperate circumstances that had seen them become slaves in the first place. Neither the Republic government nor anyone else seemed equipped to help them acclimate.

“Here.” Errul got up and came around the table. Very gently, he took her by the wrist and helped her grasp the knife. She let him, having apparently grown comfortable with him by now.

“Hold it like this. Good. Now the fork like that – yes. Good. Now cut…. Perfect.”

It took about a minute. But Errul was finally satisfied the Twi’lek had learned how to cut her own food adequately.

“It’ll get more natural with time. Trust me.” He reassured her, observing her progress as he took his seat back.

Rhi’khi finally tasted her steak. Her eyes lit up, and he couldn’t help but think of it as a sign of life.

“Good?” he asked with a grin.

“I…. yes!” she gasped.

Errul was rewarded with a lovely smile from the Twi’lek. It was the first time he’d seen her smile genuinely since meeting her. He’d seen the conditions under which slaves were kept on Nar Shaddaa, and what sustenance they were given. Occasionally, pleasure slaves like Rhi’khi would be fed rich food or wine from the plates and goblets of their masters, almost as if they were pets. The rest of the time they tended to be served an unappetizing gruel back in their pens. Neither option was particularly healthy in Errul’s estimation.

A reasonable nutritional diet – including bantha steaks – was another thing she’d have to adjust to.

As it turned out, Rhi’khi was famished. Her table manners needed some work, but she ate her bantha steak and drank her blue milk with gusto. Errul took it as a positive sign; she’d have to learn to pace herself, but that could come later.

Errul was almost done with his steak when he glanced up, realizing that the girl was eyeing him tentatively as if chewing something over.

He put aside his utensils.

“What is it now?” he asked.

The Twi’lek swallowed, then reached out, laying her hand on his.

“I owe you everything for freeing me… Captain.” Rhi’khi smiled up at him, coyly. It was the same smile she’d worn while dancing for Donje’s visitors back on Nar Shaddaa. Noting her brief pause, Errul suspected that she had had to stop herself from calling him ‘master’ again. “I am… very grateful.” Her fingers gently entangled themselves with his, her thumb brushing against his palm.

Errul felt a sudden but familiar warmth in his belly and down to his loins. This beautiful young woman – with her lovely figure, pretty blue eyes and coy smile – was offering him comfort. Even at Errul’s age, the urges still came, and he certainly couldn’t deny the Twi’lek’s sex appeal.

It was the Zabrak’s turn to swallow, as he looked up into Rhi’khi’s eyes.

Errul Marsh prided himself on his ability to read people. During negotiations. During games at the Pazzak table. During a tense stand-off with guns drawn. And the fact that he was still alive after all this time was a sign that he was good at it. It had always been a talent, but he’d refined it over the years with invaluable experience.

So it was that he noticed things. In particular, the slight tension around the girl’s otherwise enticing eyes.

No.

This was not a young woman who was genuinely smitten or enchanted by him. (Galaxy knows Errul knew what that looked like, even if it had been awhile.) No. This was a girl who was, even now, still worried that he would sell her off to the next gangster he ran into or that he’d otherwise abandon her to some unknown fate the moment she became inconvenient.

In her mind, this was about taking control of the situation in the only way she knew how. Rhi’khi was desperately trying to offer him something to ensure he would protect and look after her, this was only coin she could possibly offer him. It bothered him that she’d been conditioned to think that her sex appeal was all she could ever offer to the galaxy. Errul added that to the growing list of consequences of her enslavement. The fear of going back to Nar Shaddaa or the fear of the unknown would lead her to continue living the life she had been living, even after she had just risked everything to escape that very life.

After all, it was all she knew.

That wasn’t what bothered him the most, though.

No, what bothered him the most was knowing – knowing – that not so many years ago, Errul would have taken her up on the offer in a heartbeat. By now, his lips would have been on hers, she’d have been propped up on the table and soon the clothes would have gone flying. (And few of Errul’s lovers had ever complained about his skills in the bedchamber.) Oh, he’d have shown her a great time; he’d have taken her on a trade run or two to some exotic planets and shown her sights few beings could even imagine. Beautiful beaches, majestic mountains, cities that were clean and comfortable in stark contrast to the filth and grit she’d seen on Nar Shaddaa.

He’d have let it last a week. Or maybe – maybe – as long as a month. (He’d only gone as long as a month with a woman a couple of times. It was better that way.) Certainly no longer than that. Then he’d have found something for the young Twi’lek, letting her down gently and making sure she had something to get her started on the rest of her life.

After all, he’d have thought to himself, what she was offering him had been offered freely and was therefore his to take.

That was one of the lies people told themselves. But with age had come wisdom, and Errul liked to think he had given up lying to himself a long time ago.

“How old are you, kid?”

The words came from his lips abruptly. Rhi’khi looked confused for a moment, then worried, as if she thought she had done something wrong, and might be punished for it. She withdrew her hand.

“I…. nineteen, I think.” She said with uncertainty.

Nineteen. Shavit. He was more than twenty years her senior. Force. He’d lived too blasted long.

“Hold on a second, okay?” he offered.

Errul rose from his seat and walked to the far corner of the galley, right next to the washer. He opened the small cabinet above, being careful to block Rhi’khi’s vision of what he was doing. (He didn’t have any reason to distrust the Twi’lek, but he hadn’t survived this long by being careless.) He removed the panel at the back of the cabinet, revealing a hidden biometric safe box. The Zabrak pressed his hand to bio-scanner, then entered a code into the keypad. The safe popped open.

There were a number of trinkets located within, some appearing to be mundane while others would have caught the eye of any professional treasure hunter. Errul ignored the rest and took the one object he had sought. Then he closed the safe, putting the fake panel back in place.

Errul turned back to Rhi’khi, setting the item down on the table. It was a small metallic cube, with ornate engravings etched on all six sides.

“Don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. Promise.” He gave her a soft smile. “Go ahead and touch it.”

Rhi’khi tentatively reached out and lightly brushed the foreign object with her fingertips.

After about a second, the cube suddenly lit up with the engravings emanating a blue light. A small holoprojection then materialized above it, revealing a Cathar woman wearing long robes.

“I am Master Juhani of the Jedi Order.” The projection spoke in an accent that was provincial, but the voice was clear and nevertheless confident. “And these are my teachings.”

Rhi’khi cried out in alarm, withdrawing her hand from the cube. All on its own, the object went flying off the table and through the air, ricocheting off the ship’s bulkhead before coming to a rest on the floor. The Twi’lek, plainly rattled, pulled her knees up to her chest, staring down at it in fear.

Errul just chuckled nonchalantly.

“Sorry about that. I had to be sure, and this saved me a lot of time.” The smuggler reached down and picked up the cube, setting it back on the table. It was undamaged from Rhi’khi’s inadvertent outburst, which he took a relief in. Errul knew it was nearly three hundred years old. “Like I said, this won’t harm you.” He regarded her with a satisfied expression, having been proven right. “I figured as much about you, when I saw you talk that Gamorrean out of ‘enjoying’ the company of your Nautolan friend back at Donje’s club.”

“What… what was that?” Rhi’khi asked nervously, still staring at the cube.

“This? This is a Jedi Holocron.” Errul tapped it, nonchalantly. “I’ve been hanging onto it for a while, mostly for occasions like this.”

The Twi’lek swallowed, starting to regain her composure.

“I don’t understand.”

“Hmmm.” Errul regarded her, debating how to continue. “Have you ever heard of the Jedi?”

“I… yes.” Rhi’khi stammered. “My master… Donje, I mean… sometimes ranted about them. He called them ‘meddlesome Republic fools’. And he said that they fought the Sith.” She paused. “I think he was a little frightened of them.”

The Zabrak just nodded.

“Not without cause. Jedi and Hutts don’t really see eye to eye on much.” Errul sat down across from her, stretching his arms. “Jedi are… well, peace-keepers, you might say. When things are going alright for the Republic, they’re like diplomats. They go around resolving conflicts and helping to uphold the law. They’re pretty… noble, I guess. They’ve helped a lot of people when no one else could. Not as many as you’d hope, but a lot.” He chewed that over. “Of course, these days, they’ve been at war with the Sith Empire, even when they’ve had that sham of a peace treaty. So it’s been tough going these last few decades. They’ve got a lot of rules they have to follow, and they can be very pretentious. These days, they have to defend the citizens of the galaxy, uphold their own lofty principles and beat the Sith all at the same time. No one is going to succeed at that. But to their credit, they keep trying.”

“Having said that…” he continued. “I can honestly say that they do the best they can in a crazy galaxy.” Errul paused at a bygone memory, his voice taking a more conciliatory tone, then looked the Twi’lek directly in the eye.

“You’re Force-sensitive, kid.”

Rhi’khi just blinked.

“The… Force?” she asked in confusion.

“Yeah.” The old smuggler settled into his seat. “It’s like this… invisible energy field created by all living things. It binds the galaxy together, or so the Jedi say. And some special people – like the Jedi and the Sith – can manipulate it; it gives them power.”

“You have that power. You’ve been able to talk people out of doing things before, haven’t you? Maybe not Donje or other Hutts, but others, right?”

Rhi’khi nodded nervously.

“Right. Basically, Rhi’khi, it means you have the chance to become a Jedi.” He paused and looked up at the ceiling. “Or a Sith.” He added dourly. “If you like, I can introduce you to someone on Carrick Station, and, if you decide it’s what you want, they’ll test you to confirm what I just told you. The Jedi usually recruit kids young, but they’re less discerning these days. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I’m confident they’ll take you in and teach you how to become a Jedi.”

Errul paused here for effect.

“But I won’t do that if that’s not what you want.”

The Twi’lek stared down at the table.

“I don’t know what I want.” She whispered quietly.

The Zabrak nodded. No surprise, there. Rhi’khi had probably never been given the chance to think about what she wanted.

“Well, I think you’re in shock, kiddo. A lot of stuff is happening to you very quickly. I wish things were different, but here we are.” He gave her what he hoped was a comforting look. “Not everybody can quite get over the things life throws at them. And you’ve had way more thrown at you in the last few hours than a lot of people will experience in a lifetime.”

“But… if you can let go of it – what with growing up a slave, everything that’s happened to you, everything that was done to you – then maybe, just maybe, this is for you. And maybe, maybe, maybe someday you can help some other little girl from having to grow the way you did.”

The Zabrak considered what he had said. She deserved the truth. All of it.

“No promises, though.” He added firmly. “Even at their best, before the Empire came back, the Jedi couldn’t stop the Hutts from trading in slaves entirely. The best they could claim to accomplish was keeping the slugs in check. And like I’ve said, the Jedi aren’t at their strongest right now. It’s a dangerous life, what with the Empire hanging around.”

Rhi’khi seemed to chew that over for a long moment. Despite his reputation for being a fast-talker, Errul was actually quite comfortable with long silences, and gave her all the time she needed.

“What if I can’t do that?” she finally whispered.

He understood. Rhi’khi might seem meek and innocent at the moment, but Errul couldn’t imagine anyone going through her life without building up a sense of indignation, and scars on her soul that ran deep. If she were aware of that, then she was wiser than she let on.

“If the anger and resentment are too much, well, odds are you’ll become a slave again. Except not a slave to another Hutt, but a slave to your own anger. And to your past. I’ve seen it happen with others who’ve been through the kinds of things you have, even the ones who weren’t Force sensitive. They just… can’t be free of it. They can’t be free of what they’ve gone through. Even with otherwise good people, it eats away at them, over time, and it never ends well.”

The Zabrak looked away, not wanting the Twi’lek to see the look on his face just now. He was speaking from experience, but that experience wasn’t something he was ready to share.

“And then a lot of them wind up doing to others what was done to them.” Errul continued, speaking from experience. “They all have justifications, of course. Little lies they tell themselves. ‘Oh, the galaxy owes me this’ or ‘these people deserve what I’m doing to them because their ancestors killed my ancestors’. It’s all a load of druk.”

“People hurt other people because they can’t let go.”

Trusting himself now, Errul took a breath and turned back at Rhi’khi, giving her a hard look in the eye. She was still watching him closely.

“The ones who do that who are Force-sensitive? We call those Sith.”

The girl shivered again, wrapping her arms around herself.

His expression softened at the sight. He’d given her the ice bucket of water to the face. The least he could do was offer her a towel.

“But… if neither of those choices appeal to you, the guy who runs the cantina on Carrick Station owes me a favor. He’s a tough boss, and the pay isn’t that much, but he treats his waitresses right. He doesn’t put up with any flyboys like me messing with them, y’know? I could set you up. You could work for him for a while, just serving drinks and finding your feet, until you found something better.”

“As for this ‘Force’ business… well, maybe it will let you just live your life.“

“I promise I’m not going to make you choose anything. I’m just telling you what I can do to help you, since you look like you need it.”

Rhi’khi was looking up at him again. She probably didn’t completely understand everything he had said, but she seemed comforted by his words nonetheless. Maybe she liked having a third option, or maybe she just liked listening to his voice. That didn’t really matter right now.

“Well. I’ve just dropped a barrel of Hutt manure on you, kid. I’m sorry to do it like this, but I find it’s for the best in the long run.”

Errul polished off the last of his blue milk, then cleared the table. He put everything away in the washer, set the machine to run, then turned to her again.

“I don’t pretend to know what’s best for you. But I’ll give you as much time as I can to think all this over.”

He moved to stand, only for Rhi’khi to reach for his hand again.

“Captain, wait.” She suddenly interrupted.

Errul noted she didn’t need to stop and start again to remember to call him ‘Captain’ and not ‘Master’. He smiled at her progress and stopped, sitting back down.

“How… how do you know all of this?” she asked. “If you are just a ship captain, how do you know about the Force, and me, and… why do you have this?” she looked at the holocron again.

The Zabrak slowly grinned. She was a sharp one. Most people struggled to use their intelligence in tight spots; when you’re threatened and focused on simple survival, it was hard to think things through. He’d seen enough of that in the refugee camps growing up. But if you offer folks just a little security and comfort, a little breathing room, sometimes they could surprise you with what they could come up. Rhi’khi may have been under-educated and naïve, but he was suddenly confidant that whatever path she took, she’d figure things out, in time.

“Well, let’s just say that once upon a time, a Jedi helped me out of a jam.” He answered wistfully. “They took the time to tell me about a couple of things. As for why I have the holocron… well, it just sort of fell into my lap during a little misadventure on Dantooine this one time, years ago. It’s no good to me personally; I’m not Force-sensitive. But it’ll make a useful bargaining chip if I’m ever in a tight spot… or for confirming cases like yours.”

The Twi’lek took that in and released his hand, thinking.

A chime sounded throughout the ship, and Errul cocked his head.

“I’ve gotta get that. We’re ready to jump into hyperspace.”

With that, Errul stood up. Rhi’khi turned and stared down at the holocron, lost in thought. The Zabrak made for the door and then stopped, turning just enough to speak to her over his shoulder.

“Just remember: Whatever you choose, that’s your choice, and yours alone. That’s the hardest lesson of freedom. What’s happened to you up until now was someone else’s doing. What you do after this is yours.”

As Errul stepped out of the galley and prepared to head back to the cockpit, he hung back for a second out of view around the corner, watching the young Twi’lek mull over her future. He certainly didn’t envy her the choice before her, but he needed to make sure she was okay to be alone right now.

Slowly, tentatively, Rhi’kih reached for the holocron. As she touched it, the little holo-image – the ‘Gatekeeper’ – once again materialized.

“I am Master Juhani of the Jedi Order.” The Jedi started again. “And these are my teachings…”

Errul observed as Rhi’khi watched the projection, a look of fascination coming across her features. As she listened to the words of the long-dead Jedi, she seemed to Errul to become more relaxed, a small smile coming to her lips. A natural, organic smile – not the coy put-on she’d shown him earlier.

The Zabrak turned away. He didn’t pretend to know his own destiny any more than he knew Rhi’khi’s, but maybe both of them were about to take the next step on their respective paths.

Errul sighed again as he sat down in the chair of his cockpit, finally pulling the lever and triggering the jump into hyperspace. The stars outside the cockpit canopy shifted as the Horn made it’s jump, as the galaxy seemed to bend around the trusty old freighter. It was a welcome sight. No matter how many times he saw it, it always relaxed him.

This had already been too much philosophy for him in one day. He decided to blame it all on that Reactor Core he’d had at the cantina before he left Nar Shaddaa. That Rodian bartender was a good listener, but he always put too much spice liquor in his concoctions, and no doubt that was making Errul sentimental. It made him reflect back on what he’d thought to himself earlier.

If it wasn’t ‘this life’ that would be the death of him someday, then it would be sentimentality. He didn’t doubt it for one minute.

He thought back to Rhi’kih listening to that holocron in the galley.

“Yeah, barely breaking even.” He whispered with a smile. He shook his head. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Kriffing Nar Shaddaa.” He grumbled.

END

****************************************

Author’s Notes: I’ve never written about Errul before, but he’s my oldest ‘active’ O.C., as I developed him way back when I was on Free-to-Play. I eventually abandoned his game play, as in my mind, I don’t see him as an ‘Outlander’ type figure. But I keep him around. I saw some talk on Tumblr complaining about the player’s tendency to make our O.C.s on the young side. Errul, in my head-canon anyway, is a smuggler on the wrong side of forty.

People do change. They learn and they grow and they don’t stop doing that the moment they turn into an ‘adult’. (Which is totally a made-up word anyway.) True, the changes aren’t always for the better, but they do come. How you feel about things twenty years from now may be very different than how you feel about things now. That doesn’t make your opinions any less valid; it just means that they don’t define who you are.

Juhani is here just because I like Easter Eggs.

The character of Rhi’khi is inspired by a Twi’lek slave in Nar Shaddaa who was planning to escape with a smuggler in a bit of ambient dialogue within the actual game.

I remember reading an article about people who defected from North Korea, and the immense challenges they faced adapting to the modern world. Even given assistance by South Korea and other countries, most of them have no practical job skills and an education that was incomplete to say the least. It was very sobering.

Oh – and spoilers – Rhi’khi ‘grows up’ to be the Barsen'thor of the Jedi Order in this iteration. The first lesson there is you never know what the person you help might go on to do. The second lesson is don’t worry if you feel you’re getting a late start on pursuing your life goals. Honestly, it is not a race. It never was.

Good luck, and may the Force be with you.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #oc: errul marsh #oc: rhi'khi #zabrak #twi'lek #smuggler #jedi counselor #juhani #kotor callback

31 notes · View notes