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hopesbarnes · 4 years

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Rosey Inn

Summary: Ten years ago you left your small town and small-town boyfriend believing you were destined for bigger and better things. But when your mom passes away and leaves the family Inn to you, you’re forced to face all you left behind.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Maybe two curse words, fluff, angst, loss of parent

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: This was written for @wxntersoldiers 6k AU Challenge, I had the prompt Roomates!AU.

Also a huge thank you to @starbxcks for beta reading this. Love you to pieces. (PS spot the gilmore girl reference and i’ll love you forever)

This was not the plan. None of this was the plan. Your entire life had meticulously put together to reach one goal. And now? Now you’re sharing a house with a boy you haven’t seen in a decade, back in your home town, and owning an inn.

Talk about cliche.

The town of Rose Hill is quaint. One supermarket, one high school, everyone knows everyone’s name quaint. The people are kind and overly lax in security and come together for events. It sits near a beautiful lake and is known for its tourism. The kind of place people dream of living. The perfect American lifestyle.

Just not your dream. Since you were little you wanted one thing. To be a big shot New York lawyer. The kind that people know will get them off for any crime, and anything. You were going to be the success story of Rose Hill, the one to get out. The one to make it.

And you did. Got accepted into an Ivy League, finished school, and joined a practice. Until you got the phone call, that your mom passed away and left the family business to you. There went all your plans, all your dreams, everything. You were right back where you started in Rose Hill.

The Rosey Inn was a landmark, built long before your grandparents were even born. Passed down through generations of L/Ns. Each owned/managed the inn and raised their families in it. You spent your childhood hiding in the maids closet, tasting the chef’s recipes, tending to the front garden, and reorganizing the books in the front room.

You didn’t play alone though, you had Bucky. Bucky Barnes was your best friend and eventual boyfriend. His mom was a maid for the inn, and the pair of you grew up together. He was your everything and first love. But when you left for New York you wanted a fresh start, one that didn’t include the boy who’s life aspirations were to own a hardware store. So you dumped him and left, without saying goodbye.

Your past was but a distant memory. Until you were back and looking at the familiar inn.

“Y/N! Oh, how I missed you!” you hear the voice of Wanda, your best friend say.

“What are you doing here!” you ask greeting the red-headed girl. She had moved here Junior year of high school and you became fast friends. She was the only one you had contact with after leaving.

“Well, I took over as nighttime manager. And when I heard about your mom I decided to fill in on daytime until you could move back. I’m so sorry about her Y/N,” she says with sincerity in her voice.

“She’s been sick for a while, I’m just happy she’s out of pain now,” you say and pull her into a hug.

“I’ll let you settle in, then tomorrow we can go over the inn and what needs to happen.”

“Thank you Wanda for everything,” you say and head to the house.

The inn set back from the road, with plenty of space in front for parking and picnic areas. Behind it sat a large outdoor eating area, and a gazebo. But if you take the trail to the left, it leads to your childhood home. A three-bedroom house, with two floors and far enough to not be part of the inn, but close enough you could be there in case of an emergency.

You expected the place to be overgrown and in need of a cleaning, but it looked as new as the day it was built. And a car was out front.

When you get closer to the house the door opens and you swear you jump ten feet into the air, only to hear the voice of the one person you hoped to avoid.

“Been a while sugar,” he says smiling.

James Buchanan Barnes looks as good as he did ten years ago when you abandoned him. No scratch that, he looked better. The years did him good, his jaw was more chiseled and light scruff covered his face. His arm filled out and he wore a button-down. He looked refined, older but damn good looking.

“Sure has handy boy,” you smile back. “What are you doing in my home.”

“Must have your lines crossed, I live here now,” he says mischief across his face and eyebrow raised.

“In my childhood home?” you ask perplexed.

“Your momma was having a tough time the past few years and needed some help. She said I could live here if I helped her out. And when she got sick she put the house in my name too, saying you would need just as much, if not more, help when you got back.”

“So we’re roommates?” you ask hoping this was all a joke.

“Sure are,” he smiles, “let me help you with your bag.”

“I have movers coming in a few days with the rest of my things, just brought enough until then.”

You walk into the home and it’s not the dusty and doily place you remember it. The furniture is all-new, and the decor is modern. The living room has a grey fabric couch with navy throw pillows and a coffee table with a cookbook and tray on it. There’s a sleek floor lamp next to it and a flat-screen tv across atop a tv stand with movies neatly packed inside. A soft rug is on the floor with a diamond pattern on it. The entire room looks like a page from a catalog and if your suspicions are right the rest of the house is as follows.

“I took the guest bedroom when I moved in, so your old bedroom is still yours,” he says and you nod heading up the stairs following him to your childhood bedroom. When he opens the door you see it’s the one room that hasn’t changed. It still looks as it did when you were 18 years old and leaving to be on your own.

“I’m gonna have to update this room!” you say pointing to the outdated poster on your wall.

“Your mom didn’t want to change it, she insisted it remains the way you left it,” he says with a sad smile. You may have lost your mom, but that didn’t mean he didn’t lose her too.

“So many memories in this room,” you say and let a few flood back. Bucky’s cheeks heat up and you look down ashamed. He had to be thinking of the time the two of you first made love. You were 17, had the house to yourself, and did what you could on the small twin bed.

“I’ll leave you to settle in, then we could get dinner?” he asks and you nod. You unpack the few outfits you brought along and mentally map out what furniture you’ll replace with the one from your apartment. After getting a little bit of the initial shock of being back, you sit down and take a deep breath. Not only were you going to be running an inn, but apparently you were going to be roommates with the only man you’ve ever really loved. Life really does throw curveballs, doesn’t it?

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

The rest of the night was slightly awkward. Bucky ordered pizza and the two of you made idle chit chat while eating it. He offered to hang out with you, but you wanted to get up and going early so you decided to retire to your room instead. He gave a pained smile and wished you a good night.

The next morning you woke up at dawn, a habit you had from being in law. Late nights and early mornings. After showering you get dressed in nice pants, a blouse, and some sneakers since you would be walking a lot today. You made a mental checklist of what needed to be done: meeting with Wanda and looking over the inn, visiting the safety deposit box, and arranging for a storage unit for the rest of your furniture.

When you got downstairs Bucky was already dressed, in dark jeans and a flannel shirt over a faded t-shirt.

“Morning,” he said and slid a cup of coffee your way.

“Thanks,” you say and take a sip from the mug.

“I took the day off from the store and figured I could help you out today.”

“You didn’t need to do that. You’ve already done way more for my family than you ever needed to.”

“I love your family, even used to think they’d be my family one day,” he says. The last part comes out quieter than the rest and you feel a flood of guilt.

“I’m meeting with Wanda in twenty minutes, but after could you help me run errands around town?”

“Anything. I gotta fix up the back steps to the inn this mornin’ anyway. Might as well do them now,” he says lowering the coffee cup. He goes across the counter to where his glove is and puts it over his hand.

Back in high school, he was attempting to make a table for his ma. He got distracted though and sawed into his arm. They had tried to save it, but the damage was done. Word had gone through the town and one woman told her fiancee (who just happened to be Tony Stark CEO of Stark Industries) and Bucky got a state of the art metal prosthetic. But you guess he was still embarrassed by it and hid it around everyone. Everyone but you it seems.

The meeting with Wanda was exhausting. She went over everything from payroll, to linen deliveries, to the filing system. There was a wedding scheduled three and a half months from now that took the majority of the time, as your mom was originally in charge of the day. But everything seemed manageable with help. You moved Wanda to the official daytime desk manager and promoted Clint Barton to the nighttime manager. Wanda said he functioned best at night anyway. She introduced you to the other members of the team, Vision (her husband) was the head chef. Scott Lang was the bartender at night and events, Peter Parker was the bellhop on duty at the time. She said you would meet the rest of the staff at a later time, and that there weren’t any bad seeds in the bunch.

The two of you ate lunch together in the dining room and she filled you in on the staff gossip, little things to help run the inn better. Like how Clint needed coffee or would forget he was even alive, or how Peter Parker could usually lift more than you’d think but if MJ (his girlfriend walked in) he would almost always get distracted and walk into a wall.

After lunch, you texted Bucky (he had given you his new number last night) and met him at his car.

“How was lunch,” he asks, walking up to you. His sleeves were rolled up now and he had sunglasses on. His hair is a mess and his undershirt has paint stains on it. He’s got his toothy grin plastered across his face, and it’s the exact same one you fell in love with as a teen.

“Good, you fix up those stairs?” you ask and get into his car. He had a dark green pickup that was in desperate need of a wash. There was a toolbox in the back, but the front was spotless.

“Yeah, even painted over them too.” Bucky was always the fixer. Helped out whenever he could, and didn’t mind getting a little roughed up in the process. It was always the biggest difference between you. Your life was carefully crafted and there was no room for mess.

The ride is quiet. You don’t even know what small talk to make with him anymore. Do you bring up sports? Ask about his mom? Tell him about New York? It all seemed too stiff and meaningless.

You finally get to the bank and he offers to pick up some tea for you and him while you go to empty your mom’s safety deposit box. He knew this was something you needed to do alone, so he gave you your space.

The bank had one small room of the locked boxes, and the teller came with you holding the second key to the box. Once the box was unlocked you moved to a small table and chair surrounded by walls for privacy. The bank teller leaves you alone with the contents and you take a deep breath in.

Inside the metal box are a few papers, your parent’s marriage certificate, and the deed to the house and the inn amongst them. There are also a few family heirlooms, two necklaces, and a ring. Your great grandpa’s watch is also in the box. But what sticks out is a letter with your name on it. You pull it out and read it.

“Dear Y/N,

If you’re reading this then I’m gone. We both knew this day would come and would bring you home to where you belong. Years ago you left, and I know you needed to do that. You had dreams of a better and bigger life, but you have to know in your heart that Rose Hill is where you need to be.

I’m sure by now you have seen that Bucky lives in the house. He moved in a few years ago to help me out, and I told him to stay after I go. Y/N, I know you don’t want to hear this- especially from your mother, but he is the one. You two were meant to be. As soon as you stop running from that, you’ll feel at peace. He’s a good man and you need to let him have your heart again.

I trust you’ll handle the inn with grace and hopefully not sell it. It’s been in our family for many lifetimes, and I want it to continue that way. But if it’s too much give it to James. He’s family whether the pair of you are together or not.

Be kind to yourself dear.

Love,

Mom

You place the letter down and let the tears fall. It was too soon, you should have had her longer. And despite your best intentions of coming, staying a few months maybe a year and finding new owners you know you have to stay for good now. And for Bucky, you don’t even know. Bucky was the past, wasn’t he?

After you left the bank you went by a storage place then back to the room. The past three weeks have been a blur. The wedding was in less than three months and the bride decided to change the entire decoration scheme to be more ‘woodsy than classical’ and you were still figuring out what that even meant. Besides that, you were trying to figure out how to run an inn. People required directions you didn’t have so you were overwhelmed.

Between the running around you were spending all the time you could reading articles and going through the binder your mom kept. You never really understood how much time and energy your parents put into running this place. Growing up you just thought they greeted people and were friends with the staff. It never dawned on you that running an inn is more than just owning the property.

The spare minutes you had left were spent settling into your old life. Originally you planned to come back for a year and then move back. This was going to be a blip on the radar of your life. But you know now that was unrealistic and this is where you belong. So you officially list your place rather than lease it for a year. You formally quit your job, and you’d still have to fly back eventually for cases next year but that was a ways away.

In the mornings you shared a coffee with Bucky, and at night the two of you ate dinner together. It was comfortable but awkward. Which was your fault. You knew it was your fault, you broke his heart and left. But you just didn’t know how to fix that.

Most mornings were silent. You weren’t a morning person and Bucky wasn’t a talker. But today he had something to say. It only took three weeks, but better late than never.

“Natasha and Steve invited us over,” he says and you nearly drop your cup.

“They got back together?” you ask completely shocked.

While Wanda was who you stayed in touch with and one of your closest friends, Natasha was your best friend beside Bucky. The two of you met in dance class and became close. In middle school, she started dating Steve, who is Bucky’s best friend. They were the perfect pair, she was the fiery redheaded dancer and he was the timid but loyal baseball player. However, in Junior year of high school, they broke up after Natasha got drunk at a party and admitted that Steve wasn’t her first.

He had felt betrayed that she lied and broke up with her and she sobbed on your shoulder for a whole week. You and Bucky got in a fight about it too because he had taken Steve’s side and said she shouldn’t have lied. You fiercely defend Natasha though. It wasn’t her fault she had a hookup with an asshole that she tried to forget.

“Yeah. After high school, Steve and I got a place together while we went to the community college. One day we decided to go to a party at the university in the city. And the next day Natasha was in my kitchen. They had a ‘benefits’ only relationship for a few months before realizing they were idiots and got back together officially. Tied the knot maybe four years ago?” he explains.

“I’d love to see them again,” you say cordially. Hopefully, they didn’t resent you for leaving.

“We’ll go over for dinner?” he asks and you nod.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Good morning!” Wanda sings when you see her. She’s awfully cheery today and dressed up. She has a black lace dress with a high neckline. She’s wearing a pair of velvet burgundy heels and looks stellar.

“You are way too happy and look amazing today. Why?!” you ask laughing and she laughs with you.

“I may have an appointment with an adoption agency today,” she says smiling.

“WHAT! Oh my god! Wanda, that’s so exciting!” you say and pull her into a hug. Wanda’s wanted kids since you were 16 and found out a few years ago she can’t get pregnant.

“I don’t want to get too excited because it’s going to take a while. But we’re starting the process,” she says.

“I wish you and Vis the best. I’m so excited Wan.”

The day went by in a flash. Wanda had to leave early so you were on your own for part of the day. But it went good and you were finally feeling like you had this in the bag.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

You get back from work and change into more casual clothes. When you get downstairs Bucky is waiting in a leather jacket. You can tell he’d showered since work because his hair is still damp and he isn’t covered in his signature dirt and sawdust.

“Ready?” he asks and you smile.

“As I’ve ever been,” you say and he leads you out to his truck. Your car had been brought here two weeks ago so you didn’t have to rely on him to drive you everywhere anymore but it made sense to go in one car for this.

The Rogers live in a nice house with a large backyard across town. It’s no more than a 15-minute drive, and you arrive at the house with a flower garden outside and scattered kids’ toys in the yard.

“They have kids?” you ask your eyes widening at the idea of Natasha Romanoff with children.

Bucky laughs, “Twins! A happy surprise though. You’ll love my godchildren.”

“You’re a godfather?” you ask trying to not let the sadness of all you missed seep in.

“Yeah, why they hypothetically trusted me with their literal children I don’t know.”

The two of you walk up to the door and before you can open it a flash of red hair is seen and then you’re encompassed in a tight hug.

“I really missed you,” she says and the two of you move in a circle without letting each other go. A few tears fall from your face but you wipe them away.

“Hi Natty,” you say and she smiles pulling apart. She moves your hair from your face and tilts her head at you.

“If it isn’t my best friend finally. You look amazing. I really missed you,” she says and pulls you into another hug. It seems she holds no malice against you and a weight leaves your shoulders.

“I missed you too Mrs. Rogers,” you say and tilt your head smirking.

“C’mon in Steve’s cooking and I have two people for you to meet.”

When you walk into the living room you’re greeted by two three-year-olds.

“Y/N meet Sarah and James,” she says motioning to the two blondes. “Sarah and James meet your aunt Y/N.”

The two kids wave and smile and say hi synchronously. They were adorable and had Natty’s eyes.

“No hello to me?” Steve says coming in the room and you walk over and give him a hug. “We missed you here, big shot.”

“I missed you guys too. All of you,” you say and look over at Bucky. He lets a small smile cover his face but drops it when he sees you looking.

Over dinner, they fill you in on what you missed. After school, Natasha took over the local dance studio and turned it into a competition studio that was doing fairly well. They were winning titles and having girls travel just to be taught by her. Steve on the other hand became a teacher and is teaching high school history as well as coaching the baseball team. It’s as if no time had passed and the four of you are talking like you did growing up. The kids warm up to you and sit next to you and draw pictures with you.

When their bedtime comes Bucky and Steve wrangle them and agree to read stories, so Natasha pulls you outside to the patio.

“So,” she says and you give her a confused look. “What’s it like living with your ex-boyfriend?” she says and you gulp.

“Oh. That,” you say. “That is bringing up feelings I don’t want.”

“I always thought you two would get married at 19. He was so lost after you left. We all were but especially him. And he still looks at you as if you hung the moon.”

“I broke his heart, it’s not fair of me to do this to him again,” you say and she grabs your hand.

“Babe, you were young and messed up. Don’t let that get in the way of your happiness.”

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

Natasha’s words hang on your conscious for a while. Every time you look at Bucky for the next two weeks you think of them.

The two of you start talking over coffee in the morning, and there’s definitely long wanting gazes and the need to be close. He’ll touch your hand when handing you something, and you’ll fix his hair and lay your head on his shoulder while watching movies.

He tells you jokes over texts and you send him gifs every time he complains about a customer. You were falling back into the way you used to be and you are so happy.

On Friday he asked if you guys could talk after work. Which was his right, he needed answers and you needed to ask about your mom. It had been two months now since you returned and you needed to air it all out. But knowing this made you feel jittery all day long. You kept spacing out or walking into the wrong room and everyone could tell you were a mess. It got to the point where you were doing more harm than good and Wanda sent you home.

It turns out that Bucky had finished early that day too because when you got home he was there.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“Hi sugar,” he says smiling.

“You finished your day handy boy?” you ask and take your jacket off and hang it on the hook.

“Sure did. Only had a few customers at the store and figured I could close up early. And there was no fixing to do at the inn so I figured I would come back and relax for the night. How about you?”

“Wanda sent me home. Said I was ‘hurting her flow’. You wanna order some food tonight?” you ask trying to keep up some small talk.

“What I really want is to get drunk and have you be honest with me,” he says bluntly forgetting the politeness his mama taught him.

“Well, Okay. That- We can do that. Still need some food I’ll order some Chinese.” you say pulling out your phone to order delivery from the shop down the road.

An hour later the two of you have eaten and are both slightly tipsy.

“Why’d you break up with me Y/N?” he asks finally.

You turn to him and shrug, “I wanted to be successful and I thought I needed someone who wanted the same success as me. I wanted to leave the past behind and that meant you. But I was too chicken shit to tell you. James, I regretted it every day.”

He gulps audibly and takes a long swig from his drink.

“I was so lost. I was going to marry you. Move up north with you. I knew that was where you needed to be and I wanted to be who you needed too.” he says.

“You were who I needed. Still are if we’re being honest. I just didn’t know that then.” you say and look down embarrassed. I thought you’d have moved on now. Settled with a nice girl, maybe Maria or Darcy. Had a few kids.” you admit.

“Can’t settle down when you’re still hung up on a girl,” he says and you look at him.

“Bucky I still love you. But you don’t deserve me. You deserve someone better.” you say.

“I deserve you. And as much as I want to show you that we’re both drunk and you’re still dealing with grief,” he says.

“So what now?” you ask.

“Now we wait. Make sure this is right and not just unresolved feelings,” he says.

“And if it is?” you ask.

“Then I move out and we pretend this never happened,” he says and downs the rest of his drink. You follow suit.

“Can I ask something?” you say after a few moments of quiet.

“Anytime sug, I’m an open book.”

“Was she mad? I didn’t come home when she got sick and I barely talked to her after dad died. I should have come back. I was a bad daughter,” you say and a tear falls down your face. He grabs your hand that was peeling a label off the bottle.

“Honey, she wasn’t mad. She was so proud of you. Told everyone about your cases and watched the news whenever you were mentioned. You made her so proud.”

“Thank you for being there for her.”

“She was my family too. I think we should get some rest though. It’s been a long night,” he says and you nod and head up to your room.

The next morning you wake up with a headache but see medicine and water on your bedside table. It’s then you decide that you were gonna try to make it up to Bucky. There was a chance to mend this and have the relationship you once had, and you had to take that chance. No way were you losing this man again. Once was hard enough. So you decide this time around you have to court him.

When the pair of you were young, only 13, Bucky had learned from Natasha through Steve at the time that you liked him. So he made it his mission to properly court you. It had started with notes and small trinkets, and after two weeks he knocked on your door with two bouquets of flowers (one for your momma and one for you) and asked your parents if it was alright if the pair of you dated.

They had of course said yes, knowing Bucky his entire life and planning your wedding with his parents when you were still kids. But back then you didn’t break his heart. Now you needed to figure out a way to mend it.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

There were two weeks until the wedding and you decided you needed to ask Bucky to be your ‘date’ there. He was obviously already invited because he was needed to make sure nothing broke and if it did it could be fixed. But you wanted him there as yours.

You woke up the next day early and went into town to get his favorite bagels and a rose. You got back to the house just as he made it downstairs and gave him the flower and food.

“Thank you? Why go through the hassle when we have food here?” he asks.

“I’m wooing you.”

“Doll, you do not need to woo me. I’m already wooed!” he says laughing.

“No, I messed up. And you deserve to be properly apologized to. So I’m wooing and you’re going to let me.”

“Okay,” he says shaking his head and taking a bite from his bagel.

Day one: success.

Day two starts when he gets back from work. You tell him that the pair of you are going on a date and tell him to wear a good pair of shoes. He gives you a weird look but agrees. You bring him to a club outside of town and once he sees it he can’t stop laughing.

When you and him were 16 you decided to try and get into a club. You both had horribly made fake ids and dressed up to look older. You were obviously turned away, but his car had refused to start after all that effort. So you both danced outside to his mp3 player while you waited for AAA to show up.

“I figured we could recreate that night, without AAA and the awful heels,” you say and he nods his head. You pull into the abandoned lot you spent hours in years ago. After parking, you grab your phone and put on a playlist of songs that were popular at that time and spend the next two hours just dancing. Completely embarrassingly and in a way nobody your age should. But it’s nice and the pair of you just let go.

Days three and four aren’t that eventful as you both have a lot of work. So instead you hide little notes throughout his things both days. They’re nothing special, just enough to let him know you’re thinking of him and how much you like him.

Day five you greet him after he closes the hardware store with a vintage Brooklyn Dodgers hat. His grandpa had loved the team and told Bucky all about them. You had to scour online for the hat and it was worth it when you saw the look on Bucky’s face. His eyes widened and he pulled you into a close hug. You would never admit it to him but you took a deep inhale of his scent.

Day 6’s plans were changed when Steve called and said Nat didn’t feel good and wondered if you would take the twins for the day and night. You told them you had to check with Bucky but would head over as soon as you heard from him.

Bucky of course was over the moon to have the kids over so you went and grabbed them after hanging up with him. When you got there Steve had packed each kid an overnight bag and handed them to you with their blankets and stuffed animals. Apparently Bucky bought them for the twins when they were born and they refused to sleep without them.

The twins were ecstatic to sleepover ‘aunt y/n and uncle Bucky’s place’ and babbled to each other the entire drive. You got there and saw Bucky’s truck so you figured he took the rest of the say off for the kids.

The rest of the day was spent running around the yard and showing the kids the inn and it reminded you so much of your childhood with Bucky. You wouldn’t mind your own kids playing here too you think to yourself.

After getting the kids to eat dinner and putting them to bed in the guest room you’re wiped and fall asleep with Bucky on the couch.

You wake up early the next day to little hands patting your shoulder. You manage to get up without waking up Bucky and bring the kids to the kitchen. Day 7 would be breakfast in bed you suppose.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

It was one week now until the wedding and you were stressed. The mothers decided to come in now and make your life a living hell by trying to undo everything the couple had done. Thor and Jane had made it perfectly clear to ignore their parents and you were doing your best to.

You told Bucky to meet you at the inn today since you couldn’t make it out to him, and when he arrived you had Vis make your lunch and the two of you picnic in the garden.

Day 9 was a big one because you were asking Bucky to be your date today. You lit candles around the house and had a big sign asking him to be your date. It mimicked how he asked you to prom all those years ago.

You got dressed up and waited impatiently for him to come home. When you heard his car you dimmed the lights in the house and held the sign for him to read. He came in and smiled at your setup.

“Doll, of course, I’m going to be your date,” he says laughing and pulls you close to him.

“You know you don’t need to do the rest of your wooing. We can just make it official now,” he says and you shake your head.

“James Buchanan you let me finish my last 5 days.”

“I just want to kiss you,” he whines and you laugh at his frustration.

“Soon Handy Boy I promise.”

Day 10 you go to the old drive-in theater with him. Wedding prep is just about done and you had the night off. You fill his truck with blankets and pillows after telling him the plan and having him grab snacks and drinks for you both.

The place is playing Edward Scissorhands and Beetlejuice in a Tim Burton back to back showing and it’s a good excuse to spend the night watching good movies and snuggled close to the man you love.

Day 11 and 12 you bake for him. The first of two nights cookies, the second muffins. He thanks you for both but asks if you’re trying to Hansel and Gretel him.

Day 13 was the day before the wedding and the entire family had come into town. The entire inn was rented out to the Foster-Odinson clan. It was all hands on deck and it was the fullest you’ve seen the inn yet. But despite the craziness, everything runs smoothly.

Midway through the day Wanda gets a call she was approved to adopt and was so excited she yelled it out. The entire place let out collective squeals (even people who had no clue who Wanda was) and the day just had a good tone to it.

For the last day before the wedding, and your last night of the ‘wooing’ you cook Bucky dinner. He’s surprised by the fact the house doesn’t burn and compliments your meal at least ten times. You tell him about Wanda and Vision.

“Do you want kids?” he asks and you nod.

“I want a bunch of kids. I want to raise them here too. With you,” you say and he chokes on his drink.

“God Doll, I want that too but don’t be that blunt about things. I’m getting older, don’t need a heart attack.” You laugh and he smiles.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

After what feels like a lifetime the day is finally here. You’re up and out of the house before Bucky even wakes. He’s sleeping in since the store is closed today and he doesn’t have to be at the inn until 11 am.

The bride and her bridesmaids are all drinking coffee and nibbling on light pastries when you get there. The makeup and hair team she hired should be here in around an hour. Jane has gel eye patches beneath her eyes and one of the bridesmaids still has their hair in a towel.

After checking that they’re all there and everything is running smoothly you check in on the kitchen staff. They all say things are on schedule and you nod and go to find Scott to ensure that the bar is fully stocked.

On your way to check with Scott, you find Peter carrying the suits up to the groomsmen and he wishes you a good morning. Scott, you find a few minutes later organizing the liquor. Everything seems to be running smoothly.

A few hours go by and it’s an hour until the wedding starts. You thank your lucky stars that everything runs smoothly as the guests start showing up. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see Bucky in a suit. He looks fantastic and you practically drool.

“How’s my favorite wedding coordinator,” he asks and you smile.

“She’s fantastic. How’s my favorite handy boy,” you ask in return.

“He wants to know if he’s waited long enough for his kiss.” You laugh at him.

“He has. He should know that there’s a certain girl fully in love with him who would die for a chance to be his girlfriend again,” you say laying it all out.

Bucky smiles widely, “I love you too Y/N. It would be an honor to be yours again.”

Before you can reply to him he pulls you close and smashes his lips against yours. There’s so much want and need in the kiss and you can almost feel the years lost in it. He doesn’t hold back at all and reaches one arm around you to pull you as close as possible. The other holds your hand and he keeps his lips moving in time with yours.

And you know that it’s everything you need. He’s everything you ever need.

#wxntersoldiers6kauchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #catws

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wheresmynaya · 4 years

Text

Lost in the Lights Ch.1 | Brittana

Looks like I’m back at it again! Honestly it’s only because it’s currently (American) football season and I’ve been wanting to write QB!Britt for SO LONG and Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince gave me lots of feelings about it.

Also the Steelers are still undefeated so I’ve been in a good mood.

Summary: Brittany S. Pierce is new to WMHS and quickly finds that the students there aren't as open-minded as the ones she's used to, especially when she takes over as the Titans' starting quarterback. Many heads are turned including Cheerios Co-Captain Santana Lopez who has some obstacles of her own to tackle.

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x)

Once Brittany taped up the last box and set it aside for the movers to take, she took the rare moment she had alone and reminisced. She knew this day was bound to come. Since her father’s passing earlier in the year, Brittany’s mother – Whitney – had begun making the arrangements to move closer to Brittany’s grandparents in Ohio. Aside from a handful of friends, they didn’t really have anyone else close by and with Brittany’s little brother – Pete – still too young to stay home alone and Brittany busy with school, Whitney needed the extra help.

The move made sense, but Brittany dreaded it in silence. She was going into her Senior year and being the new kid at school wasn’t how she planned on spending it. She kept her feelings in check though as she boxed up her whole life and said goodbye.

Brittany didn’t want to make things harder by digging in her heels, so she put on a brave face for the sake of her family and finished her Junior year without making any complaints. Instead, Brittany did everything she could to help make the transition a little easier.

With a light knock on Brittany’s door, Whitney made her presence known.

“You ready to go, Britt?” Whitney asked gently.

Brittany could feel her throat tightening. Was she ready? The answer was obvious and deep down, Whitney knew that. She closed the distance and gave her daughter a hug.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Whitney whispered.

Brittany just nodded and held on tighter.

It had been a long drive and it seemed like everything started to look a little greener the further they got from the coast. Even the trees changed from the bushy palms Brittany grew up with to tall oaks, but after what felt like a million hours the Pierce Family finally made it to their destination.

“It’s a good looking house, right kids?” Whitney asked cheerfully as the family stretched their achy limbs in front of their new home.

It wasn’t anything special, just a typical three bedroom, two bath. The siding was white, the shutters were blue and the wooden fence looked relatively knew. At a quick glance, the house looked like any other on the block. Brittany didn’t have any complaints though and when she glanced down at Pete, neither did he.

“It’s cute,” Brittany agreed with a smile then nudged her brother, “What do you think, Petey?”

“I like the windows,” Pete pointed up at the shutters, “Blue’s my favorite color.”

“Mine too,” Brittany winked.

“Well, go pick your rooms,” Whitney instructed.

She didn’t get a chance to tell them that they were the exact same size, one just faces the backyard and the other faces the front. The two took off towards the house giggling the whole way while Whitney just shook her head and trailed after them.

It took them a couple weeks to settle into their new place with the help of Brittany’s grandparents, but it was finally starting to feel like home even if she felt like something was missing.

Or rather, someone.

Some nights she could hear the soft whimpers coming from her mother’s room and some nights Petey makes his way into Brittany’s bed because the dreams keep him up at night. Everyone misses him and that makes the transition a little harder. The nights are usually hard for everyone, but they manage to get by together.

It’s better during the day when it’s light out and there’s less time to overthink things. An Ohio summer has nothing on a Florida one, but Brittany doesn’t complain about that either. She can catch a tan wherever the sun shines, so she does just that.

She and Pete find a park within walking distance of their house and visit often while Whitney is out job hunting. Most days, Pete has more energy than Brittany can keep up with so the park really comes in handy. On the rare occasion, Pete sometimes would rather sit with Brittany on a blanket under one of the big trees there and color.

Sometimes, Brittany joins him because as Pete would say, “You’re never too old for coloring.”

One day while they’re at the park, Brittany spots a couple of guys that look to be around her age. They’re a little ways away, tossing a football back and forth. She can just barely hear their voices, but they’re muffled and mix with the sound of her music playing from her phone.

“How’s this look, Britt?” Pete asks as he holds up his coloring book.

Brittany nods, “Excellent color choice for the hair.”

“I thought so too,” Pete grins and goes back to his scribbling while Brittany lazily flips through the latest issue of Sports Illustrated.

She switches from reading articles to watching the guys play. She notes their form and posture and she can’t help but critique them. Their throws are pretty average, but they aren’t too bad and she goes back to reading.

“Watch out!” Brittany hears one of the guys yell. She braces herself and holds out a protective arm over Pete’s head. Soon a football bounces down just a couple feet away from her blanket and rolls to a wobbly stop beside her.

“Way to go, Sam! You almost hit them,” The lean guy yells back to the shaggy-haired blonde.

“I thought you had that!”

“It was overthrown! Do you think I’m seven feet tall?”

“You could’ve jumped.”

“This is why you’re third string when we don’t even have a second.”

“Whatever Mike, I’m just having an off day,” The blonde grumbles as he trails his friend.

“You always say that,” Mike shakes his head and starts to jog over to Brittany and Pete, “Sorry about that!”

“That’s alright,” Brittany smiles as she reaches for the ball and pushes to stand. The leather feels familiar in her hands and it’s just now that she realizes she hasn’t picked up a ball in so long. Her fingers automatically slide into position between the laces though like they’re magnets being drawn together.

Brittany sets her eyes on Mike and draws her arm back to throw a perfect spiral.

The pass connects with the intended target – obviously – but the looks on both of the guys’ faces is priceless. Brittany smiles proudly as they whoop and holler. She didn’t realize she kind of misses that.

“Show off,” Pete teases though he matches her proud smile.

“That was an awesome throw!” Mike applauds as he rushes over, “Like Woah! Sorry, I’m Mike. That’s my friend, Sam.”

Sam’s still a little ways away but he waves as he jogs over, his blonde shaggy hair bouncing with every step. He kind of reminds Brittany of a golden retriever, eager and a little dorky.

“I’m Brittany,” Brittany greets and pats Pete’s head, “This is my brother, Pete. We just moved here.”

“Oh, I think we’re neighbors!” Mike grins, “The house with the blue shutters?”

“Yeah, that’s us.”

Sam finally joins the group, “Great throw! Can you do that again?”

Brittany shrugs casually, “Yeah. Probably.”

Mike and Sam drop their jaws in disbelief.

“My sister’s a quarterback,” Pete informs them, “She’s the best at school.”

“I was the best at our old school,” Brittany corrects and ruffles up his blonde hair.

“You were a,” Sam blinks, “I’ve never met a girl quarterback.”

Brittany tries to keep from gritting her teeth at the way he says girl. She knows he didn’t mean any disrespect, but it still makes her skin crawl. She forgets that some places aren’t as progressive as her old school, so she keeps the polite smile on her face.

“You have to try out,” Sam insists, “You’re better than half of those guys and no girl has ever tried out before. It would be so cool!”

“You saw me throw one time,” Brittany chuckles.

“Exactly, that’s how much we suck!”

“Hey!” Mike shakes his head and gives Brittany an encouraging smile, “You’d be great on the team.”

Mike seems genuine enough, they both do, but Brittany’s unsure of how she’ll be received here. She’s already going to be the new kid in school, she didn’t really want to add on to that by being the first girl to try out for the team.

“I don’t know,” Brittany looks unsure and glances down at Pete, “I wasn’t planning on playing this year.”

“You’ve got to,” Mike adds, “You have a killer arm.”

“Would totally bench Hudson,” Sam jokes with Mike.

Mike nods, “Without a doubt.”

“Is Hudson your current QB?” Brittany wonders.

“Yeah, for three years and we haven’t made a single playoffs appearance,” Sam answers with the shake of his head.

“Sam was going to try and play him for the starting position,” Mike explains, “Clearly he needs some work though.”

Sam scoffs and punches at Mike’s shoulder.

“Clearly,” Brittany chuckled. She liked these guys. They were kind of dorks but harmless and they seemed friendly.

“Well, we don’t want to pressure you if you don’t want to play,” Mike says a little more seriously, “But if you change your mind, try-outs are next Tuesday at William McKinley High at noon. See Coach Beiste.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brittany replies, “Thanks.”

“Cool. Well, how about one more for the road?” Mike suggests and holds out the ball to Brittany.

Brittany was happy to oblige and slaps her palm against the leather, “Go long.”

The guys took off running, playfully shoving at each other as Brittany took her stance and got into position. She let them get a few more yards further before drawing back and letting the ball fly.

Again, it was a perfect throw.

When Sam caught it this time, Mike cheered while Sam did a celebratory dance. It wasn’t the smoothest thing Brittany had ever seen, but it was the funniest and it had her and Pete laughing harder than they had in awhile.

That night at the dinner table with Whitney, Pete talked animatedly about his and Brittany’s day. Brittany always loved how excited he got about the smallest things and he always told stories with so much detail. They were worried that it would fade with their dad’s passing but Pete was still so full of love and light.

“We made friends at the park today too!” Pete said which piqued Whitney’s interest.

“Oh really?” Whitney smiled and looked to Brittany, “Making friends already?”

“I wouldn’t call them that,” Brittany chuckled as she picked mindlessly at her plate, “A couple guys from the high school here were playing catch. Apparently one of them is our neighbor too.”

“Mike!” Pete clarified.

“Yeah, Mike and Sam. They tried talking me into trying out for the football team,” Brittany explained, “I don’t think I’m going to play this year though.”

“What? Why not?” Whitney asked worriedly, “You’ve played every year since middle school.”

“I know, but I want to be able to help out here if you need me to,” Brittany reasons and glances over at Pete, “I don’t want to get stuck with football like I always do.”

“You love it, Britt, and you’re good at it,” Whitney tells her, “You should try out.”

“What about Pete?” Brittany questions, “No one will be home when he finishes school.”

“Gran will pick him up,” Whitney suggests easily.

“But – “

“No buts,” Whitney gives her a stern look, “It’s your Senior year and you love the game. If you want to play, you should. Isn’t that what your dad always said?”

Brittany feels something clench in the pit of her stomach and she isn’t sure if it’s a good feeling or a bad one. She can still hear her dad’s voice gently guiding her and maybe that’s what helps her decide this time too.

“Okay yeah, I’ll try out,” Brittany announces and it’s the first time she finally feels like herself again since moving to Ohio.

It’s a muggy Summer’s day when Brittany arrives at her new school for try-outs. She can already feel all eyes on her as she walks through the gate and joins the others on the field. She spots Mike and Sam with a few others and they wave at her while the others give her curious looks. Brittany gives them a nod but stays focused. It feels like it’s a hundred degrees there, but she’s use to the heat after growing up in Florida. She stands tall with her chin held high as she makes her way over to the Coach.

She’s pleasantly surprised when she finds that the Coach is also a woman.

“Coach Beiste?”

“Cheerios try-outs are held in the gym,” The woman tells her without a second glance.

Brittany bites her lip and tries to shake the nerves, “I’m not here for a cereal ad, Coach. I want to try-out for the team.”

The woman pauses and eyes Brittany curiously as she says, “This is football try-outs.”

“I know,” Brittany nods resolutely, “I’ve played before.”

“Position?”

“Quarterback.”

Coach looks impressed, “What string?”

Brittany smirks, “I was the starter.”

The woman blinks and it’s similar to the look Sam gave her.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Brittany. Brittany S. Pierce.”

“You just move here or something?” Beiste asks as she jots down Brittany’s name on the clipboard, “I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yes,” Brittany nods, “I just moved here from Florida.”

“Alright. Well, you won’t get any special treatment on my field,” Beiste tells her sternly, “You’ll run the drills, same as everyone else and I’ll see how you go. You throw up, it’s an automatic out.”

“Of course,” Brittany grins, “I don’t want it any other way.”

It’s no surprise to Brittany when she aces try-outs. She’s always been pretty athletic and she starts every morning with a run so she’s in tip-top shape and breezes through the drills. Even the team’s resident quarterback – Finn Hudson – struggles to keep up with the others. Brittany notes how uncoordinated his movements are and starts to understand why the team hasn’t made a playoff appearance.

Finn’s saving grace though is that he has a pretty good arm, but Brittany is confident that hers is better. Actually, she knows it is. If they’re going to compare stats, Brittany has him beat in every category but she lets her talent speak for itself. No one likes a cocky new kid on the block.

“You’re promising, Pierce,” Coach Beiste tells her after the third day of try-outs, “Between you and me, you can run circles around Hudson and I have no doubt you can outshine him.”

“I appreciate that, Coach.”

“But, he’s been our starter for nearly three years now. He’s got the team’s respect and trust,” Coach Beiste reasons.

Brittany nods. She hates how she has to start from scratch here. At her old school, she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, they just knew she was talented because they grew up with her. Here, they don’t know anything about her and that puts her at a real disadvantage.

“You can’t just come in like a bat outta hell and snatch it from him,” Coach continues, “You’re going to have to play for it; prove yourself to me and the team that you can do a better job. You’ve got to really earn this.”

Brittany saw that coming too so she nods, “I understand.”

“I took a look at your record. I hope you don’t mind,” Coach Beiste says, “It’s very impressive, Pierce. I haven’t seen talent like yours in awhile around here. I almost forgot what it was like to see stats like yours.”

“Thank you. I’ve been playing for a long time.”

“I can tell, so this is what I’m going to do. There’s a pre-season game coming up,” Beiste tells her, “I want to put you in, see what you can do. If I like what I see, you might just be able to nudge Hudson out. There are a lot of Seniors on this team, I know they’d love to see the Championships and I think you can get them there.”

“I know I can,” Brittany says without a second thought.

Coach pats her hard on the shoulder pad, “That’s what I like to hear. Go get cleaned up.”

While Brittany gets packed up a little while later, she feels someone standing close by. She waits for some off-handed comment – she’s heard a few of the guys mumble them under their breath – but it never comes. She figures it’s either Mike or Sam but when she turns, it’s neither of them.

“Hi,” The guy greets. His voice is meek, almost angelic and it takes Brittany by surprise.

“Hi,” Brittany smiles back though as she stands.

“I’m Kurt,” He says and does a showy kick, “I’m the kicker.”

Brittany notes his small stature compared to the other guys. There’s not an ounce of muscle on him it looks like, typical for someone on special teams.

“I’m Brittany,” She replies, “Not sure what I am just yet.”

“I hope you’re going to be our knew QB,” Kurt grins and takes a seat next to Brittany’s duffle as she continues packing up, “I’m rooting for you. I know there are a few others that are too, they just don’t want you to know about it. I don’t really understand the point, we all want to win.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure,” Kurt nods and starts to admire Brittany’s keychain, “Oh! We play for the same team.”

“Obviously or this would be pretty embarrassing,” Brittany says with a straight face.

“No, I meant – “

Brittany grins slyly as she watches his face turn red. She glances down at her rainbow unicorn keychain in his hand and meets his gaze, “I know what you meant.”

Kurt laughs it off awkwardly and tries to recover, “It’s nice to finally have someone to talk to on the team.”

Brittany can hear just a hint of sadness in his tone and looks up, “They don’t talk to you?”

“They do, but it’s not the same. We don’t have much in common. All they want to talk about are video games and hot chicks,” Kurt scrunches his nose like there’s a bad taste in his mouth but then he looks at Brittany and relaxes, “Then again, you might be able to relate with that last one.”

Brittany chuckles as she reties up her hair, “You think so?”

Kurt eyes her and nods to the keychain again, “I don’t know many female quarterbacks that are straight. Actually, I don’t know any female quarterbacks.” Kurt ponders for a moment then looks to Brittany apologetically, “I’m sorry, that was intrusive. I apologize.”

Brittany gives him a pat on the knee as she stands. She pulls up her heavy duffle and adjusts the strap on her shoulder, “You’re not wrong, but I’m here to play football. Not drool over girls, no matter how pretty they are.”

Kurt smiles, “Good to hear. It would be nice to win for a change.”

“I’ll do my best,” Brittany tells him, “I’ll see you at practice.”

Whitney and Pete are in the stands along with Brittany’s grandparents on the day of the game against Crawford County Day. Brittany’s been sitting on the bench for a whole quarter and her knees are bouncing at the opportunity to get on the field.

She watches her team in action and it’s almost embarrassing how ununified they are. It’s like no one’s taking charge – no one’s leading – and it hurts to watch.

“Blitz! Blitz!” Coach yells, “Watch the blitz!”

Brittany can see it coming, but Finn doesn’t change plays.

The ball is hiked and Finn hands it off to their Running Back – Noah Puckerman – but the defense slips through from all sides. Puckerman is swallowed up in an instant.

It’s a loss of three yards, third down.

Brittany glances over at Coach and her face is beet red.

The next play is even worse. It’s meant to be a simple slant pass, but the lack of communication between Finn and the receivers – Mike and Sam – has everyone on different pages. When Finn drops back, no one is open and the pocket collapses in on him for a sack.

Brittany cringes at the hard hit and shakes her head.

“Damn it, Hudson!” Coach snaps and throws her hat on the ground.

The Titans finish the half down by 13 points.

It’s the longest twenty-minute halftime Brittany has ever endured. Coach just tears into the team for being so sloppy. Apparently Crawford County Day is meant to be one of the easiest teams on their roster so the fact that the Titans are behind already isn’t really a good sign.

“Good thing this is just a scrimmage!” Beiste yells, “I’ve never seen so many poorly executed plays in my entire career. What the hell was that out there?”

“They’ve gotten better, Coach.”

Brittany presses her lips tight together to keep from laughing at Finn’s excuse.

“I am captain of the U.S.S. Kick Ass, not the U.S.S. Back Talk,” Beiste said pointedly and looked at Brittany, “Pierce, your starting.”

“Wait, Coach!” Finn argued, “You can’t start her, she’s…she’s –“

Brittany arched her brow at him, waiting for a lame insult to come tumbling out.

“She’s gunning for your job, Hudson,” Beiste cut in.

“You can’t be serious!” Finn crossed his arms, “We don’t even know if she can play.”

“You just keep your eyes on me then,” Brittany smirked as she pulled on her helmet, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Woah!” Sam cheered and high fived Mike.

“Shut up,” Puck shoved at them both, “Have some respect.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kurt replied meekly.

Puck rounded on him, “What was that, Hummel?”

Kurt just lifted a dainty hand and admired his nails quietly.

Brittany just smirked. Maybe she didn’t have the entire team on her side yet, but she liked her odds so far.

At first, things were a little rocky. It seemed that the offense wasn’t use to someone taking charge – they weren’t use to her taking charge – but Brittany kept at it and it started to pay off.

Once she got into her groove, she could read the defense so easily and adjust accordingly. She’d hear the grunts of disbelief whenever she’d call an audible, but by the last quarter she felt like she had finally made ground and gained some of the team’s trust.

Because by the last quarter, the Titans were up by 3 points.

She could play it safe with just seconds to go, but this was just a scrimmage and she wanted to make a lasting impression. She didn’t just want to win with a field goal attempt, she was confident that she could put more points on the board before the final.

Brittany straightened up and motioned for a timeout. The ref blew the whistle and Brittany gathered the team for a huddle. She took out her mouthguard and looked around at her teammates.

“I want to try Blue 80,” Brittany tells them.

“You’re ballsy, Pierce!” Matt Rutherford – the Tight End – said but it came out as a compliment.

Mike and Sam looked between each other before Mike spoke up, “We’ve never made a completion with this play.”

“Guess we should change that,” Brittany shrugged.

“You really want to blow the lead?” Dave Karofsky – the Right Guard – mocked.

“It’s the last play of the game,” Sam defended, “The worse that could happen is it gets intercepted and they run it all the way –“

“Shut up, Evans!” Azimio – the Left Guard – snapped, “Don’t jinx us.”

“It’s all or nothing,” Brittany reasoned, “Scared QBs don’t make plays and I think we can put more points on the board. You with me?”

She held out her gloved fist and waited for the other’s to join her.

Puck was the first to hold out his fist, “You pull this off, Pierce, and I’ll tell Finn myself that you’re the better QB.”

“You’re on,” Brittany smirked and watched as the rest of the team joined her, “Titans on three. One…two…three!”

“Titans!” They yelled out in unison. Brittany was impressed, she was already making them a more cohesive team.

Everyone got into their positions, what looked to be a simple running play. The defense fell right for it and adjusted accordingly. When the ball was snapped, Brittany faked the hand off to Puck and swiftly dropped back, watching as the other team went after him instead of realizing she still had the ball in her possession.

Meanwhile, Mike and Sam broke away from their defenders and jetted up the field. Both were wide open, but Mike crossed into the endzone just before Sam did. While the pocket still held, Brittany made her decision and let the ball fly before it could collapse in on her.

She hoped and wished and prayed to anyone who was listening that Mike would catch this thing. So much was riding on this; the team’s trust, their respect, solidifying her position as the new quarterback. Mike needed to catch this.

The relief she felt when he did was unmatched!

The crowd roared and Brittany’s chest swelled with pride. She glanced up at the sky and smiled, her dad would’ve loved that play.

Soon she was swarmed by her new team and they hoisted her up on their shoulders as they chanted her name, “Pierce! Pierce! Pierce!”

“Hate to say it, bro,” Puck said as they carried Brittany off to the sideline where Finn was close to throwing a tantrum, “But the girl’s got mad skill. She’s got my vote.”

“Who cares about a vote. That’s not how we do things,” Finn scoffs, “It’s up to Coach.”

“Easy, Hudson, you could learn a lot from her. Kid’s on fire,” Coach Beiste smiled proudly and patted Brittany on her helmet, “You got the job, Pierce. Titans, your new quarterback.”

“Thanks, Coach!” Brittany grinned while most of the team cheered.

After the game once everyone had changed out of their uniforms, Brittany was surprised to see Puck approach her with an interesting offer.

“Yo Pierce! Wait up,” He called after her.

“Hey,” Brittany nodded.

“I’m throwing a party this weekend before school starts up again,” He says, “I wasn’t going to invite you because didn’t know if you were cool yet.”

Brittany gives him an unbelieving look but it goes over his head.

“The whole team’s going and considering you’re our QB now I figured it was only right that I let you in on it,” Puck then gave her a sly grin, “Lots of hot babes will be there if that’s your thing. Is it your thing?”

Brittany chose to ignore the question, “Thanks for the invite. I’ll try to swing by if I can.”

“Not to brag, but my parties are usually pretty awesome,” Puck flaunted, “If you want to start off on the right foot at this school – being the new kid and all – you’re gonna want to show up.”

She couldn’t decide if that was meant to be a threat or that he just sucks at persuading, but Brittany shrugged it off. She was beginning to get the impression that Lima might live up to the stereotype of being a small town.

Brittany didn’t waver though, “I’ll keep that in mind, Puck. I’ll see you around.”

\\\\\

As a Cheerios Co-Captain, Santana Lopez knew that there were certain social obligations that she had to keep up with. One of those obligations being the End of Summer party Puck always threw. Only the top dogs of McKinley were allowed to attend and if you didn’t it was basically social suicide.

With everything that happened last year, Santana couldn’t afford to miss it no matter how much she hated going. It was like her reputation had been in freefall and she was barely holding on. She couldn’t have that – not for her Senior year – so she sucked it up and told her parents she was sleeping over her best friend’s house.

Quinn Fabray – the other Co-Captain of the Cheerios – was the only person it seemed like that kept Santana sane. They considered themselves the hottest bitches McKinley had to offer and most of the student body couldn’t help but agree. They had the looks, the smarts, the snark; they were the perfect duo and were set on ruling the school.

Santana hoped that last year was just a minor blip in their legacy. She had high hopes coming into Senior year, she already felt like she had hit rock bottom and she was over feeling sorry for herself.

The best way to feel on top again? Attend Puck’s party.

Of course, it was easier said than done.

The music is loud and there are people everywhere. Honestly, Santana has no idea how these things have never been shut down. She thinks maybe the dopes down at the Lima Police Department are just too swamped with real crime-fighting to deal with Puck and his shenanigans for the millionth time.

That’s obviously a joke. Nothing interesting ever happens in Lima, the LPD are just a bunch of lazy fucks who apparently don’t care about a couple dozen kids drinking underage.

Santana sits with Quinn at the edge of Puck’s pool and they just people-watch as they dangle their feet in the cool water. It’s a hot night and there are already a couple drunken idiots wading in the shallow end, singing along to the music at the top of their lungs.

She looks down at her red solo cup and swirls the amber liquid. She barely has a buzz so she takes another gulp in hopes that she’ll catch up and finally start enjoying the party.

Quinn watches her wearily but does the same. Neither of them want to be there but appearances are important, especially to them.

Speaking of appearances, Santana spots a leggy blonde across the way through the glass double-doors. She’s dressed casually in cut-off jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Santana raises her brow; she wishes she could show up to a party looking like that. It took her an hour alone to do her make up, let alone pick out the right outfit.

Santana continues to watch her – though she feels a little weird for it. She’s never seen the girl around here before and decides that’s the reason why she can’t take her eyes off of her – she’s just curious. A little piece of her deep down inside calls her out for lying.

Still, Santana just assumes the blonde came with one of the football players since that’s who she seems to gravitate to. She notices the familiar faces from the football team – Sam Evans in particular – and watches as he hands the blonde a red cup.

The girl smiles in return and wow, Santana’s a little star-struck by its brilliance. Sam must’ve said something dorky because now the girl’s laughing and shaking her head at him. Santana’s never seen someone so effortlessly beautiful and she has to bite her cheek to keep from smiling too. This girl, she has one of those infection kind of smiles and it’s trouble.

Mike Chang walks up next and clinks his cup against the girl’s and together they begin to chat.

Santana quickly glances to Quinn to catch her reaction. Mike and Quinn aren’t exactly official, but it’s obvious they have a thing for each other.

Quinn’s not looking though and Santana feels a little relief. She can’t deal with a jealous Quinn tonight, and a little part of her doesn’t want this new girl to have to deal with that either.

When Santana glances back, she recognizes Sugar Motta – McKinley’s resident Richie Bitch – pulling the blonde girl in to dance and suddenly Santana’s watching a little too closely.

This girl can clearly dance and the way she moves with Sugar is so graceful. Sugar on the other hand isn’t as fluid, but their hands smooth over each other teasingly. When the blonde’s hands land on Sugar’s hips, they start to sway together and Santana can just tell that the blonde’s the one leading now.

Santana can feel this coil within her tightening the longer she watches, her mouth getting drier at the way she takes control.

Then the song changes and the two laugh and carry on so carefreely as if nothing happened. Their moves mimic the steady rhythm and they start to bounce with their fists pumping at the air in time to the pounding bass.

Santana frowns at the slight pang of jealousy; she used to be like that, so uncaring and full of life. She danced with whoever she wanted – boy or girl – and it didn’t matter, but now…now it does.

“Who’s she?” Quinn asks, her gazing lining up with the blonde talking to Sugar.

“No idea.”

“Should I ask around?”

“No!” Santana blurts and Quinn eyes her suspiciously. Santana adjusts, “No. I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later. She’s hanging around Sugar and you know she can’t keep her mouth shut for more than two seconds.”

Quinn smirks, “True.”

When Puck finally rears his ugly mug, Santana’s surprised they were able to dodge him for so long.

“Hey ladies,” He greets with his signature smirk, “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

There are beer stains on his open button-down and Santana can smell the tanning oil on him from where she sits. He’s got a nice body or whatever, but that doesn’t mean he needs to strut around basted in Hawaiian Tropic. She can’t really talk though, she and Quinn have both made out with him at some point in time.

“Scram, Puckerman,” Santana replies with a roll of her eyes, “I’m not drunk enough to deal with your lame ass.”

“Is that any way to talk to the host?” Puck mocks and squeezes in to sit between the Co-Captains.

Santana groans and shuffles away from him, but he throws a heavy arm around her and Quinn’s shoulders. She can smell something stronger than beer on his breath and scoffs as she gets out from underneath his arm, “You’re gross.”

“Whatever. I’m not here for you anyway,” Puck brushes off and leans heavily against Quinn instead, “I know you’re not on the menu anymore or has that changed?”

Santana’s taken aback but her heart begins to pound wildly at the accusation.

“Choose your next words carefully,” Santana warns.

“What?” Puck laughs, “You still trying to hold out on me?”

“Puck,” Quinn snaps and shrugs out from under him too.

He’s too drunk and wrapped up in his own bullshit to notice that he’s crossed a line, but his voice grabs the attention of those surrounding them.

Santana suddenly feels small, trapped even. It feels like everyone’s staring now and listening to Puck’s drunken words.

“All I wanna know is if that phase is over with now?” He says and it’s like the final blow for Santana.

She shrinks back and her vicious words that use to come so easily for her die on her tongue. There’s a crowd gathering now and she notices the blonde girl from before eyeing them too.

“It’s not a phase, asshole,” Quinn snaps and surprises everyone watching by pushing him into the pool.

Santana’s eyes go wide as she sees the big splash. She’s never been so thankful to have Quinn as her best friend.

“What the hell, Quinn!” Puck grumbles as he resurfaces, “I had my phone on me still!”

“Shouldn’t have been a dick then,” Quinn shrugs and hooks her arm with Santana’s, “Let’s go, the beer’s flat here anyway.”

Santana finally kicks into gear and nods, “Yeah. I’m not trying to be hungover for practice tomorrow.”

Santana doesn’t know why, but as they turn to leave she looks around for the mysterious blonde. To her disappointment, she’s nowhere to be found.

They make their way to the street and begin the short walk home in silence. Santana’s heart is still racing even though they’re so far away now that she can’t even hear the low thrum of the music emanating from Puck’s place. She hopes that no one saw her choke on her words, maybe they’ll be too distracted by Quinn’s actions to remember.

It’s not until another ten minutes later when they’ve arrived at Quinn’s house that Santana finally finds her voice again.

“Thanks Q,” She says quietly. She knows she doesn’t need to elaborate and she’s thankful for that too.

Quinn only lifts her shoulder in a lazy shrug, “You would’ve done the same for me.”

\\\\\

The first day of school rolls around quickly for Brittany, but despite being the new kid she makes friends relatively easy. Kurt’s in her first class and she’s honestly so relieved to see a familiar face.

He takes it upon himself to show her around and introduce Brittany to his friends. So far, Brittany’s met a Tonya or Taylor – she’s not very good with names – but she’s nice. There’s also Mercedes – she remembers that name – who Brittany met in her Astronomy class and alongside Kurt guide, they guide Brittany through McKinley High.

It’s a total Mean Girls moment and Brittany finds herself laughing at how eager they are to show her around.

When they get to lunch, she notices that everyone is pretty cliquey which is something she isn’t use to. At her old school, everyone mingled with everyone. It didn’t matter if you played sports or if you were considered cool, people just hung out with whoever they wanted.

At McKinley High, that’s clearly not the case.

All the football players sit together but instead of joining them, Kurt leads Brittany and Mercedes to a different table close by. They get a couple of curious looks, but all Brittany can focus on is what they’re wearing.

“Why have they got on their letterman jackets?” Brittany questions with a laugh, “It’s so hot outside, they have to be melting.”

“How else do expect them to establish dominance?” Kurt says sarcastically, “I only wear mine on game days. You don’t have one yet, right?”

“No,” Brittany answers, “But I do have my own number now.”

“Oh good,” Kurt grins, “It’s official now.”

Kurt and Mercedes are still trying to give her the rundown, but Brittany’s starting to reach her peak when it comes to taking in all the new info. Whatever they’re saying now is kind of going in one ear and out the other, the only thing that brings her back is spotting the familiar brunette she saw at Puck’s party.

Even if Brittany drank a little more than she anticipated, she was still sober enough to remember the saddest looking girl at the party.

“And those are the Cheerios,” Mercedes tells Brittany as if she could read her mind, “McKinley’s cheerleading squad and top of the social food chain.”

“I haven’t seen them at any of the games,” Brittany looks to Kurt for an explanation.

“They don’t bother with pre-season,” Kurt answers, “They’re basically the only ones here winning any titles. Coach Sylvester practically lets them get away with murder.”

Brittany notes all the high ponies and uniforms, everyone’s make up is on point and there’s not a single hair out of place. They all look immaculate, but Brittany focuses on the two that she’s most familiar with.

“Who are they?” She asks.

“The blonde one is Quinn Fabray,” Kurt informs her in a hushed tone, “She’s Co-Captain along with the brunette – Santana Lopez – and both of their families are loaded. They’ve been best friends since ever, you rarely see one without the other. Quinn’s kind of a prude and Santana’s – “

“A complete bitch for no reason most of the time,” Mercedes finishes for him.

Kurt shakes his head, “She has a reason.”

His cryptic words interest Brittany. Hell, she’s been interested ever since she saw Quinn push Puckerman into the pool.

“Doesn’t give her an excuse to terrorize us,” Mercedes reasons, “The girl is trouble.”

Kurt bobbles his head from side to side and looks back at Brittany, “It’s best if you stay out of her way, Brittany. It’ll make your life a whole lot easier.”

“You think?” Mercedes asks, “She’s on the football team, the quarterback even. You think Santana will mess with her?”

Kurt shrugs, “She still messes with me doesn’t, she?”

“That’s true,” Mercedes frowns.

Brittany just nods, but that doesn’t extinguish the curiosity that has blossomed within her.

And maybe someone above is testing her, because when Brittany arrives to her final class of the day she finds the exact person Kurt and Mercedes have been warning her against interacting with: Santana Lopez.

And to make matters even worse, the only available seat left in the room just so happens to be the one right next to her. Brittany shakes her head and glances at the board to double check she’s in the right place.

Creative Writing – Miss Holliday Room 215

Brittany’s definitely in the right place and lets out a sigh.

Might as well bite the bullet, Brittany thinks as musters all the confidence she has left and she approaches the table. She’s been rushed at by guys ten times the brunette’s size moving at full speed on the football field and yet, she can’t help but feel a little nervous when she comes to stand before the Co-Captain.

“Hi,” Brittany greets with a polite smile, “Can I sit here?”

Santana glances up at her like she can’t believe the audacity Brittany has. She eyes her up and down then goes back to filing her nails, “No.”

Brittany nods, so Kurt and Mercedes might’ve been right.

“There aren’t any other seats left,” Brittany adds.

Santana doesn’t even look up this time, “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Brittany has to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. This girl is something else but Brittany’s never been one to back down.

Unfortunately her teacher – Miss Holliday – approaches, “Are you seriously starting off the year by being a pain in my ass, Lopez? Don’t give the new kid a hard time. Move over.”

“Fine,” Santana rolls her eyes and slides her books closer to her side of the table.

Brittany looks back at the teacher and smiles, “Thanks.”

“All good,” The woman says casually. She’s young and reminds Brittany of one of her favorite teachers at her old school, “Have a seat, Sweet Cheeks.”

Brittany does as she’s told and gets settled next to Santana. She can feel the tension radiating off the Cheerio, but tries to ease it by introducing herself.

“I’m Brittany,” She tells the brunette and adds a friendly smile for emphasis. If she’s going to be stuck sitting next to her for the rest of the year, they can at least be civil. Right?

Wrong.

“I didn’t ask,” Santana retorts and spends the rest of class giving Brittany the cold shoulder.

For some reason though, that only makes Brittany want to get to know Santana even more.

Afterall, she loves a challenge.

\\\\\

It’s the last Cheerios practice indoors and Santana and Quinn soak up the privilege of conditioning in a space with A.C. There are many reasons why Santana dreads having to join football team outdoors for practice, one being that it’s hot as hell still during this time of year and also she can’t stand the cat-calling.

With Coach Beiste as the acting head coach now, the guys are a lot more tame but Santana still hates how she feels like she’s being watched all the time. Some of the other girls on the squad don’t mind it too much though, they’re all about teasing and the pleasing apparently.

“How’s your schedule this year?” Quinn asks between stretches.

“It’s alright,” Santana shrugs, “Super easy. I got Holliday and Schuester again.”

“Lucky!” Quinn says, “I got Hagberg. I wish she would just retire already.”

Santana agrees then she remembers her last class of the day and how the mysterious blonde from Puck’s party now has a name, “Hey. Remember that girl we saw at Puck’s?”

“The blonde one?”

“Yeah, her. Brittany,” Santana murmurs the name, “I have a class with her.”

“Oh! Is she cool or something?” Quinn’s intrigued, “She’s pretty and she’s got some moves. We could get her on the squad?”

Pretty, Santana thinks it’s an understatement now that she’s seen her up close. She’s never seen eyes so damn blue and that smile – again, wow.

Quinn catches her swept up in her thoughts and quickly plays it off, “Hell no.”

“Really? Why not?”

“She’s just…,” Santana racks her brain for an excuse but she’s blanking, “She’s just not Cheerios material.”

Quinn calls her bluff, “How would you know?”

“I just do,” Santana scoffs and continues to struggle for a reason, “There’s something different about her, okay?”

“Different is good though, right? We could use that.”

“God Quinn, just drop it alright?” Santana snaps and walks off.

Quinn just laughs in disbelief, “You’re the one that brought her up!”

The rest of the week is a little of the same. Santana goes through the motions of her day although a hidden piece of her longs for her last class with Brittany. She still ignores the blonde’s attempts to make conversation, but it doesn’t seem like the girl is giving up anytime soon.

Quinn still presses for Brittany to join the squad, but Santana’s not having any of that either.

Quinn can’t understand why Santana’s being so adamant about the decision. Santana doesn’t know why either. In fact, there are a lot of things Santana doesn’t understand when it comes to Brittany, but she’s not exactly ready to unpack any of that.

If anything, she’s afraid of what it all could mean.

It isn’t until Friday night that things begin to get a little clearer for them all.

It’s the first regular season game which means it’s the first game the Cheerios make an appearance in. The Titans are pumped but Santana isn’t sure what’s gotten into them, they never win so cheering for them always feels like a waste of time. There’s a different air about the team this year though, but Santana doesn’t think much of it as the game kicks off.

Santana and Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios do what they do best and breathe life into the crowd like always, but they find that they don’t need to work as hard to keep morale up because the Titans are actually winning for a change.

In fact, Santana has to check the score twice to make sure she’s reading it correctly.

Home: 9 Away: 0

“What the hell?” Santana bumps Quinn with her pompom, “We’re winning?”

“Weird, right?” Quinn replies and nods over to the Titans’ bench, “Wonder if it has anything to do with that?”

Santana blinks, “Is that Finnocence?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Santana snaps back to the field, “Then who’s out there?”

“Sam?” Quinn questions but they know he’s #6 and #6 is on the other side of the field catching a perfectly thrown pass.

They both look to the quarterback and Santana asks, “Who’s #12?”

“No idea,” Quinn shrugs, “But he’s killing it!”

Santana doesn’t know much about football but she does know a lot about winning and whatever this guy is doing seems to be working.

Santana and Quinn spend the rest of the game trying to figure out who’s beneath #12’s helmet, but decide that someone already on the team must’ve been given a new number with the promotion to quarterback.

There’s really no other explanation.

All that though is quickly forgotten as the game ends and the Titans come away with their first win of the regular season. It’s practically unheard of considering their losing streak. The stands erupt in applause and Santana watches as the Titans go wild too. Sam and Mike hoist #12 onto their shoulders as the quarterback pulls of his helmet.

When Santana sees long blonde hair cascade out from underneath it, she just about faints because the Titans’ new quarterback isn’t some random guy: it’s Brittany.

“Well,” Quinn’s equally surprised and bumps Santana with her shoulder, “Looks like you were right about her being different.”

#cant stop wont stop lol #no really its bc im still unemployed and writing is the only thing that makes me feel like i'm doing something productive while i job hunt #Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction

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bookandcranny · 4 years

Text

If You can Change Your Tune

The interloper arrives in a rented moving van, the same sort as all the ones before.

“Are you sure about this?” her friend asks as they pull up to the house. “I know you’ve always had a thing for fixer-uppers but this place might be beyond saving.”

Even as she unlocks the front door the wind whistles a note of warning through its rickety frame. The floorboards beneath their feet crackle and moan at the intrusion.

“All it needs is a little love,” the interloper retorts. Her name is Ann. I remember her from the showing, a woman of insufferably good cheer walking room to room with the equally annoying realtor of the week, a dopey smile hanging from her lips.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. People like her come around from time to time with aspirations in their heads of moving into the rural countryside to rehabilitate my thickets into sprawling gardens or write the next great American novel from within my historic walls. Seeing the reality of the place in person was usually enough to convince them to chase their fantasies elsewhere. However, it appears this particular happy-go-lucky thorn in my side needs a bit more work to dislodge.

“Are you sure you’re not in over your head?” the other one asks. I try to guess at their relationship. Friend? Sister? A lover? I’m sick to death of couples.

“It’s a little late for me to back out now,” Ann laughs, twirling the keys around her finger. “Don’t worry, Nick’s bringing his crew over tomorrow to start on the repairs. She’s a project but the foundation’s sound. Next time you see this place she’ll be a real beauty.”

“’She’?”

“Yeah, you know, like how people call cars or boats a she.” She climbs the stairs and runs her hand along the dusty banister. I think of splinters— with luck maybe she’ll get tetanus- but nothing comes of it.

The house is my body. Two stories, twelve rooms not including the attic, an old-fashioned spiral staircase, and me, the greatest antique of all, left to rot. Once upon a time a family used to live here: a mother and father, a veritable litter of hyperactive young children, uncles and aunts and cousins who would stay with them some summers and during Christmastime, and the wizened pale face of a grandfather who watched over them from above the mantle. It was all very precious, very southern hospitality, very postcard perfect. All very gone. Not even their ghosts remained; just me, and all the better for it.

Chesterfield is the name of the county as well as the nearest town, though from what I understand that’s using the term lightly. Most folks local to the area know better than to disturb me, but sometimes they get bold. Bored teenagers mostly, or suited vultures looking to see if there’s any profit to be squeezed from the property. In its heyday, the house was probably a sight to behold, but I wouldn’t know much about that. Memories of my life, if ever I truly lived, are slippery like oil on the water’s surface, impossible to grasp.

Though without eyes or ears or a mind to make use of them, I can “see” through my many windows— if eyes are the windows to the soul, maybe windows are can be eyes to the spirits— and “hear” any sounds that tremble through my frame. I’m grateful for these senses; they help me keep things in order. If someone starts to get a little too cozy with my corridors, and providing the spiders don’t scare them off first, I just slam a few doors, flicker a few lights, and they go running.

The interloper and her extra finish moving in the last of the boxes. She squeezes her arm and gives her a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll send you pics once I’ve got my room set up,” she says.

“Bold of you to think you’ll survive that long. This place is definitely haunted. Do you get cell service out here? I want to call a coroner and tell them to save your spot.”

“I don’t remember making this big a deal when you moved into your first place.”

“It had bed bugs, but it didn’t have ghosts.”

Ann makes a face. “I’ll take my chances with the ghosts.” She puts an arm around her shoulders. “Kim. You’re acting like I’m dropping off the map. You’re the one leaving the country.”

“For two weeks!” Her expression grows tense. “I feel bad leaving you like this. I should’ve been there for you, there was just so much going on.”

“It wouldn’t have changed my mind.”

She sighs dramatically. “No, nothing can, can it? I fear for whoever you end up tricking into marrying you.”

Ann slaps her playfully on the arm. “Do not start on that. Speaking of which, don’t you have a honeymoon to be on? Go on, get.”

Kim puts her hands up in mock surrender and backs out the front door. I raise one of the loose planks on the porch and she trips, just barely evading a tumble down the front steps.

“See? Cursed!”

“Go!” But she’s laughing as she adds, “Thank you for the help. It means a lot, even if Sophie is gonna kill me for keeping you this long.”

“I’ve got time to talk her down.”

The U-haul rumbles away down the dirt road until it’s a muddled blur in my perception and then, finally, gone. I’m alone with the enemy now. More importantly, she is alone with me.

I slam the door. It’s the easiest most classic trick in the book. Ann jumps and looks around. I know what she’s thinking. Just the wind? Or could it be…?

But no, one small act like that won’t be enough to convince her. With a shrug, she returns to the task of moving in. She shuffles around a few boxes in the foyer and starts moving them one by one up to the second floor. All things considered she hasn’t much to move in, but I’m not fooled. Where one intruder appears, more will follow, and bring all their junk and their noise and their petty living problems with them.

All my original furniture was auctioned off in an estate sale. It took place right here on the lawn, and I watched through my windows as they divvied up my family’s belongings, breaking them down into numbers and measures of worth for the masses. For the most part though I didn’t miss it. The absence of clutter made the space feel bigger, and I got used to the emptiness.

The interloper sets up in the master bedroom and unpacks some supplies to give the room a cursory cleaning. The agency normally sent someone over to prepare the place for new residence, but since the last few rounds of movers had come and gone, they hadn’t bothered. If Ann minds, she doesn’t show it, and I have to admit it’s nice to have someone sweep away the dirt and detritus.

After cleaning to her satisfaction, she starts opening boxes with foreign labels and assembling her furniture from strange little kits, turning sheets of instructions over in her hands as she nibbles on a hangnail. The result is a set of cheap-looking geometric furniture that makes her curse as she accidentally attaches the table leg to the chair and the chair leg to the bedframe. Something about watching her work transfixes me. Probably her comical ineptitude.

After she fixes all the furniture she dresses her new bed and starts cluttering her shelves with all kinds of bizarre toys and knickknacks. Among her affects is a paperback book titled “the art of moving in and moving on”. I scoff.

“This is a temporary arrangement. Very temporary, you got it?” I tell her, though I know she can’t hear me. I know this, but it still annoys me. It feels like she’s ignoring me.

The interloper smiles to herself and takes out a black rectangle that she holds up like a camera, though the shape is far too small and thin. She lowers it, considering, and then from yet another box digs out a string of Christmas lights and hangs them up above the bed.

“It’s June,” I say, dumbfounded.

I look at the string of lights and put pressure on one of the bulbs until it bursts. She jumps, but the moment passes. She spends the bulk of the evening fussing with her camera-thing until she falls asleep.

Fine. If she wants to play hardball, I’ll play hardball.

In the morning, the interloper’s camera-thing plays a tune to rouse her. Her waking is both a curse and a blessing, for while I was glad to be free of her active meddling, even as she slept I was never able to completely ignore her presence. I feel her like an itch, like a stubborn pimple forming beneath my skin, and I’m glad to sense her rising if only because it means I can get back to business sooner rather than later.

The water heater and other facilities are still in good condition from the last unfortunate newcomers I drove from my doorstep, which frees her to take a long shower, singing obnoxiously all the while. This, however, is a perfect opportunity for me. When the heat from the shower fogs the chipped bathroom mirror, I brandish my loathing like a pen and write her a message. Granted, precision isn’t my forte, so the words come out a little smeared and crooked, but still the intent is clear as can be.

LEAVE

Ann squints at the streaked mirror. “Love?”

“Are you really that stupid?”

She looks around but, seeing no one, shrugs it off again and starts to brush her teeth. When she ducks her head to spit, I quickly try again.

MINE

“Mina? Who’s Mina?”

I groan. Okay, perhaps a more symbolic approach. I will the mirror to shatter, but just then a loud knocking sounds and Ann runs off in a frenzy before she can see the long crack forming down the center.

“Door’s open!” She calls from the landing as she hurries to finish dressing with one hand and wrangle her hair into a towel with the other.

I try to hold it shut, but despite my efforts, the door is forced open and a parade of half a dozen handymen file into the entryway. As they start setting up, a burly towheaded man breaks from the pack and goes to meet Ann as she’s bounding down the stairs.

“Careful, careful. Don’t put your foot through anything before I’ve even had the chance to bill you.”

“Nick,” Ann says fondly. “If these stairs could handle me, Kim, and the fifty-pound mattress we lugged up there yesterday, I think they’re stable.”

“You gals didn’t have to do all that. I could’ve—“

“It’s fine,” she insists. “You’re helping me out enough as it is.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even for that whole thing at Kim’s wedding now.”

“More than even,” she agreed. “I know this was last minute. Dinner’s on me tonight. I’ll order enough pizza for the entire crew.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You haven’t seen how much Seth can eat.”

Their easy banter disgusts me. Living people are all the same; wandering around with blind optimism or bemoaning every bad turn, blissfully unaware of how little it truly mattered. One wrong step with those tools of theirs and any one of them could be joining me among the shiftless dead. I don’t have any desire for that kind of company so I decide to wait until they’re done with their renovations before I risk trying to scare anyone again.

As it is they hardly need my help. Ann, it turns out, is more than just clueless, she’s a klutz. If that isn’t enough she insists on “helping” right up until she almost shoots herself in the foot with a nail gun. Nick warns her not to try it again but I don’t feel any anger from him. The crew are all familiar with one another and with her. They chat and toss around jokes between tasks; someone puts on music.

The feeling isn’t quite a tangible one, but then neither am I. It’s an energy I struggle to describe, something like wading in a river and being aware of a splash rippling from upstream. Compared to the sharp tang of fear I’m accustomed to, all this amicability is nauseatingly sweet.

Ann beams, and the high arches of her cheeks dimple and flush darkly, round as apples.

“What exactly do you have to be so happy about?” I hiss in her ear.

As much as I hate to admit it though, I can understand why someone like her moved so easily among the crowd. Even when she was getting underfoot, she’s a difficult person to condemn for it. How could anyone begrudge her excitement when it was so abundant? Or her love when it was so freely given?

Growing impatient with it all, I knock a toolbox off the top of a stepladder and send its contents scattering in all directions. It lands hard and the sounds of work, the music and the laughter, all come to an abrupt stop.

“What was that?” someone asks. A worker crouches down underneath the arch of the ladder to collect some of the scattered screws and I, with great satisfaction, tip the thing over on top of him. The damage is little, but it’s enough to get the entire crew good and spooked.

“I didn’t touch it,” the injured handyman insists as he nurses his bruises with an icepack. “It just collapsed.”

“Maybe this place is haunted,” another jokes, but her smile doesn’t quite cover her nervousness.

“Kim said the same thing,” Ann muses to herself. Nick looks at her and she startles, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud.

“I was wondering how you were able to afford this place, even with the damage.”

“Oh don’t start with all that black cat broken mirror stuff. You see bad omens in everything.”

“And you don’t see red flags until they’re waving right in the face. Not even then,” he accuses. Her guilty expression says there’s some truth to his words. “Tell me honestly, is this house haunted?”

“That’s silly. Of course not.”

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” I demand with frustration.

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” asks the injured worker.

“Thank you!”

Ann hums thoughtfully and looks up at my aged walls, my decrepit ceilings. “The realtor warned me there were rumors about this place. This house has survived fire, flood, and an attempted demolition; somehow nothing was ever able to destroy it, and every person who’s lived here had reported seeing strange things. Objects moving on their own, strange sounds at night.”

Nick leans forward in his seat. “And what did you say when they told you all that?”

“I told her it sounded perfect.”

He puts his head in his hands. “Ann. Mary-Ann Thorne. Tell me you did not buy an actual haunted house. When Kim told me you just up and bought a house on a whim I thought that was crazy enough but this…”

“I didn’t buy a haunted house,” she says. She stood up straight and spread her hands with a dramatic flourish. “I bought a survivor. Houses are like people. They have personalities, they have their own little quirks, their likes and dislikes. Old houses most of all. I could tell as soon as I walked into this place that… well that she had something special. I can’t explain it, I just felt so drawn to her.”

She places her hand on the wall and holds it there. If I were alive I think I would shiver.

“She’s been through a lot, but with some TLC she’s gonna sing, I can feel it.”

“That’s crazy,” Nick says, but she isn’t listening. Not to him. It’s almost as if… almost…

“Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t respond. Of course she doesn’t. I berate myself for even daring to expect something so deluded. However, her little speech seems to encourage the crew, or else they’ve just calmed down enough to put aside their reservations and get back to work.

Watching them I feel… strange. Even when my house had been lived in before I had never really felt so cared for. It’s all ridiculous of course, a blind act of charity sprung from some silly woman’s misguided and misdirected affection. While the workers patch holes and replace crumbling pieces, the interloper sweeps and scrubs, eager to do her part.

Evening falls, and Ann prepares to head into town to pick up dinner.

“The guy on the phone said they don’t deliver to this address for some reason,” she says. “Weird.”

“Why don’t I go,” offers Nick. “I’ve got the truck. There’s more room.”

“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees. “But I’m still buying, clear?”

“Crystal.” There’s a faint air of nervousness wafting from him, I think. I suspect he’s been hoping for an opportunity to get away from me for a while.

The rest of the crew seem mostly recovered from their brief brush with the supernatural. I intend to fix that.

I start by flickering the lights, another classic. Someone gets up stammering about checking the fuse box in the basement, but as he and Nick each go for the doors I slam them both at once, creating a nice echoing effect that rings all through the house.

“Try writing that off as the wind.”

“I got a better idea,” another someone offers up. “How about we all go into town for dinner? It’ll be nice to get out of— it’ll be nice to get out, let the dust settle here.”

“Come on, Ann,” Nick gestures. “We can swing by the bar after. It’ll be fun.”

She hesitates, a strange look on her face, and takes a step back. “You all go ahead. I’m not that hungry.”

“Ann.” He speaks more sternly now, looking something like an older brother with a neat wrinkle of worry taking up residence on his brow. “Come on.”

“I’m fine here, and you’re being silly. If you don’t believe me, bring me back something after you eat and you’ll see that I’m perfectly safe here alone.”

“But you’re not alone,” I whisper, for nobody’s benefit but my own. “What would you say, if you knew. If you really knew.”

“Besides, I’ve already spent the night here once. If something were going to happen, why didn’t it?” She pulls a smirk, puts her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s just you guys my house doesn’t like.”

Nick huffs an almost-laugh and relents, not entirely satisfied but not looking to argue the point any longer. He tells her to call him right away if anything changes and then he leaves. The workers file out after him, the last of them gingerly shutting the door behind him, so as not to anger me.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask her. My voice, such that it is, takes on a plaintive edge. Pitiful. I correct myself, refocus my aims. “You’ve had plenty of chances to run, and it’s only going to get worse from here on out. You know that, right? You’ve got to know this isn’t just some twenty-four-hour fever. You can’t get rid of me. It’s my house.”

She starts up the stairs. I follow. I have no other choice.

“Are you really this dense? How can you ignore the signs? How can you believe there’s anything here worth salvaging?"

She walks into the bathroom and stares into the cracked mirror.

“What are you doing now?” I complain. “Looking for answers? I couldn’t give them to you if I had them. Or are you just admiring your pretty reflection?” I stroke the mirror’s surface. “Must be nice, to be young and lively. If you leave now, you could have years and years of perfect ignorance, uninterrupted by those pesky reminders of death. You could have a life, and you’re wasting it.”

She touches her fingertips to the cool glass with a mystic look in her dark eyes.

“Mina?” she whispers.

“My name isn’t Mina.”

Or maybe it is. Might as well be, for all I know. I think I must’ve had a name once. Surely there was a word, a simple sound, some collection of syllables that meant I see you. Surely there had been someone to speak it and make it real in their mouth. But how should I know? And if such a person did exist, what does it matter now? I’m not a person anymore, I’m a thing that happened, a thing that’s happening still. I’m a box built to hold my history, filled up to the rafters with hurt and resentment. That’s as close as I get to living. If I could move independent of my dour walls like her, I think, I wouldn’t be wasting my time moldering in the darkness.

Ann shakes her head. “Silly. I’m being silly,” she tells herself. Looking up at the dim light fixed above her she adds, “I should probably check on that fuse box after all.”

She goes back down and opens the door to the basement. She flicks the switch on the wall a few times but that bulb's been long neglected. Even those who swear up and down they don’t fear the fables or superstition became suddenly shy when it comes to probing the deepest depths of this old house. Ann turns, presumably to seek out a flashlight, when her heel catches on one of the repairmen’s screws that had rolled loose. It’s not even my fault this time, technically.

Like some kind of morbid slapstick, her foot shoots out from under her and she stumbles backwards towards the open basement door. It’s a long drop that awaits her, followed by a fast end if she’s lucky. And I know well enough by now that she isn’t.

Without thinking, I push her. Instead of that foresworn drop down the basement stairs, Ann finds herself tripping backwards into the wall instead. She rights herself, takes in a sharp breath, and then releases it with a sigh. She’s dazed but unharmed. I find myself mirroring her relief.

She smiles. “Thank you,” she says.

Then she closes the door and walks away.

That has never happened to me before. Normally, to manifest, to have any direct impact on the physical world, I have to summon up a great deal of anger. That isn’t too hard for me; I’ve been angry a long time. But in that moment, I hadn’t been angry. I think I’d been afraid. For her safety? No, of course not. More likely I’d been worried she would leave behind a ghost and I’d be stuck with her invading my personal space for eternity. Still, I’d never… never done anything like that before. I’d never helped somebody. I suppose I’d assumed it couldn’t be done, even if I wanted to. Ghosts, spirits, malevolent spectral entities or whatever you like to call it, that’s not what we're for. That wasn’t what I did, until I did it.

I become aware of singing coming from the kitchen. The fool is never not singing or humming or whistling something. I know music; it’s not as if I’m totally uncultured. While I have no lungs nor lips to make sound, sometimes on a stormy night the wind whistles through my walls, each creak and moan playing for me the orchestra of slow degradation I’ve come to know well.

This is not that. This is… I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t know the words. Is it too late, I wonder. I can’t. I’m not ready. Oh but if you can give me time, stranger, I think I want to learn your song too.

#my writing #short story #ghosts #haunted house #paranormal romance #lgbt #horror romance #4k words #first person #original fiction

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the--blackdahlia · 4 years

Text

Edge of Seventeen Chapter 1 (Izzy x OFC)

Title: Edge of Seventeen

Summary: When the boy Karen Williamson loved left home when she was seventeen, she figured it was just a childhood crush. She had her own plans to get out of Indiana. But when those plans fell through and now she’s trapped in Lafayette with a degree that’s getting her nowhere. That is, until Jeffrey Isbell came home.

Warnings: Language for now

AN: This is just something I'm playing around with. I'm not sure how much I'll do on it, or if anyone will even like it. Thanks to @callme-kaz2y5-baby for the help!

The alarm clock was blaring. The room was still dark, and not due to the curtains Karen used to cover her small window. It was November in Indiana, and the sun didn’t carry the same amount of shine that it did in July. Well, that and it was also 5:30 in the morning. Karen groaned as she ran a hand down her face. It was Saturday. She didn’t really want to get her ass out of bed, but this was her Saturday to open the library and stay until at least noon, and she did have a lot of things to do after she got off work.

And if she was going to actually make it there, she had to get up and get in the shower now. Groaning, she finally pulled herself out of bed, letting the coffee start up while she got in the shower. After waking herself up with that, she got out, smelling the coffee and smiling. If someone would’ve told her ten years or so ago that coffee would be her blood, she would’ve laughed at them.

She made her first cup and popped some toast in the toaster. As she waited on the toast, she started to figure out something to do with her hair, deciding after fussing with it for longer than she felt necessary, that she was just going to run a brush through it and call it a day. The rest of her routine flew by; eat her toast, get dressed, put on some quick makeup, and water her plants before she headed out the door.

Six years of college left her driving a 1987 Firebird with a few too many miles, driving around a town she had always vowed to get out of but never quite made it.

“You’re listening to the Bob & Tom Show,” Karen was greeted as she turned on the car. “We’re getting some word from the Guns n’ Roses camp. It seems that it was announced that original guitarist Izzy Stradlin has had enough of Axl Rose and called it quits.”

Karen froze as she got ready to put her car in gear. She had to have misheard it.

“Rumors are swirling that Mr. Stradlin is returning to his hometown for a big project, but the fact that he had the balls to tell off Rose is astounding to me.” There was laughter and some jokes thrown around before they started playing a Guns n’ Roses songs in honor of the great hero, Izzy Stradlin.

Karen headed to work at the Lafayette Public Library. Kids from Purdue would be there, doing some studying off of campus or the ones that lived off campus would be there at least. But her mind kept drifting as she headed the ten minutes to her job.

Izzy had finally quit. She had been following the band ever since Jeffrey left Indiana. The night after he graduated with a D average, which honestly was thanks more to Karen and less to that fucking Bill Bailey. She gave him his graduation present with a smile on her face. He handed her a mixtape, kissed her, then left her behind.

She still had that mixtape somewhere at home. No matter how many boyfriends she had had in the eleven years since her last kiss with Jeffrey Isbell, she couldn’t throw it away. She’d bring it out once in a while when she missed him, but then she’d remember that he probably didn’t remember her, especially after all these years.

She pulled into her spot and opened up the library. She went through her morning routine as she waited for her assistant to show up. Empty the drop box, check them in, put them on the cart to reshelf, all the boring things that came with her job. It seemed like it was the same thing everyday that she was the in charge librarian. She broke up her routine by going to see a movies about once a week, and sometimes she’d splurge and head to Indy for a concert, but that wasn’t a common occurrence. She had accepted a long time ago that she wasn’t going to have the glamorous, rock star life that her friends had gotten when they broke free from the cornfields.

After the afternoon girl took over, Karen went to gather up the things that she had on her list. She drove towards the other side of town, where the older homes were. She smiled as she pulled into a driveway that she knew very well. Gathering up the couple books and VHS that were on her list, she knocked.

“Come in!” A woman inside called out. Karen made her way in to see Linda Isbell sitting on the couch, crocheting and watching a game show. Linda’s eyes brightened and she smiled as Karen made her way in. “Oh Karen, sweetie! How are you?”

“I’m good mama Isbell,” She kissed Linda’s cheek. “The book you wanted came in. And I got you An Officer and a Gentleman.” She sat the handful of things on her coffee table. There was a yapping noise then as Linda’s little dog, Astair, came running towards Karen. “Hey there little guy.”

“He loves when you come over,” Linda smiled at her. “He likes the car rides and walks.”

“I love those too, don’t I baby boy,” She scratched his ears and played with him for a minute. “I’ll get your grocery list after I walk him, okay?”

“Oh honey, you don’t have to do that,” Linda told her. “One of my boys went shopping for me earlier in the week. I’m set for now.”

“Oh really?” Karen asked. She figured that Joe had come to see his mom, finally. Because she figured if it was Jeff, Linda would’ve told her. But then again, she knew about how Karen’s heart had been broken by her eldest, and she was pretty good about not talking about him too much to her.

“Well, then Astaire and I will go on an extra long walk. Maybe a nice drive too,” Karen smiled as the dog yapped and ran around in circles. Linda laughed.

“He loves you Karen,” She told her, making Karen’s heart swell. After talking for a few more minutes, Karen got Astaire’s leash and took him for a nice, long walk around Lafayette. The dog was so happy, especially when she parked her car and they walked out through some of the abandoned fields around and he could chase the birds that were still there.

She looked out across the fields and noticed the large house that set among them had a moving truck in front of it. No one had lived there in years, and Jeff and Bill used to argue about who was going to live there someday. Karen highly doubted if Izzy ever moved back to Indiana, that he would come back to Lafayette, not when the Carmel area was flourishing, and attracted more of the wealthy that lived in Indiana.

“Come on Astaire, let’s go home,” Karen told the dog. He barked once more at a bird before running off with her.

****

Izzy stepped out on the front porch of his new home. Back in the day, when he was dreaming of being a huge star, him and Axl would argue over who was going to live in this house. He honestly never thought it would be up for sale, and he wasn’t sure what compelled him to buy it when it went on the market. Maybe it was a chance to say fuck you to Axl. Izzy adjusted the hat on his head as he looked at all the space he had. He was honestly glad to be back home, and he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He was pulled from his thoughts then by a dog barking. Looking out across the fields, he watched as a small dog chased some birds and a woman stood there, watching. She looked over his way, and even though Izzy couldn’t make out her face, he felt something as he watched her. They didn’t stay much longer, but Izzy couldn’t stop watching as she left.

“Maybe I’ll see her around,” Izzy grumbled to himself before he headed inside to pay the movers so he could get settled into his new home.

Forever Tags: @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme-deactivated2020040 @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme @marvelismylifffe @mrslogansixxpixx

Guns n Roses Tags: @malibubarbievince @slashscowboyboots @hauntedapricoteggsclam @bitter-13-suite @arianareirg @lucyboytom @ozzy-dumbass-of-darkness @julessworldd @solopadawan @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @catsandacoffee @kaitieskidmore1 @heavy-metal-fucking-rules @aratbaby @dufflesmckagan @appetiteforstradlin @acdcmutual

#edge of seventeen #izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin x ofc #guns n roses #fanfiction #ofc

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libraford · 6 years

Text

Gonna say it first- you are never going to see nearly as many men in a flower shop as you are on Valentine’s Day. Close runner up is Administrative Assistant Appreciation Day, but given that this is our busiest day of the year and we don’t even hire temps for Admin Day, there really isn’t much of a contest.

On an average day, our shop maybe sees between ten and twenty people walking in, with thirty to fifty deliveries.

On V-Day, the walk-ins start at 7:30am and do not stop until past 7pm, with upwards 500 deliveries and we have to be there for all of it.

But our V-Day week doesn’t start on V-Day.

It starts an entire week before the actual holiday, and why?

Because someone who should have honestly known better booked her $5000 wedding for February 9th.

Now, when I say that she should have known better, I really do mean it. This woman works in the floral industry. She manages and operates a greenhouse. Her wedding was actually at the greenhouse.

For context of what a $5000 wedding looks like, our average wedding account is around $1000. This bride got a discount on all her flowers.

All of hers was greens and tropicals. Anthurium, orchids, succulents, ivy, African Mask. These were all live plants that we had to cut, and some that were being saved whole for a succulent wall.

Setup had five locations. The church, the cottage, a corridor, the greenhouse, and the foyer. The average is two.

Monday, February 4, a man calls and informs us that he has the shipment of flowers.

“How big is the shipment,” Grandpa asks.

“86 boxes.”

“...ah.”

Live plants need to be taken out of their boxes to keep them alive- they need light, they need to breathe, and the wedding is at the end of the week. They began unboxing succulents and miniature orchids at 10:30 and finished with the english ivy and African Mask plants around 3:45.

These take up a grand total of 5 carts. These are large carts- hardly fitting in a doorway and each holding between fifty and one-hundred plants.

And the only place we can keep them... is in the front of the store.

For an entire week- and this is the week leading up to our busiest week of the year, we can neither see nor hear any person coming into our shop.

My desk is positioned in the back of the room, facing the wall. But when I’m working on casket sprays, I pull out a table and have myself facing the door.

I became the sentry of customers. And unfortunately this meant that I had to deal with them. Just about all of them wanted to buy some of the miniature orchids and I briefly considered moving my desk to the front of the store so that I could hide among the carts like some kind of orchid goblin- smacking the hands of people who get too close to the plants before retreating back into the foliage.

The number of people wanting to buy the stock from the wedding only increased when we put a big sign on it reading ‘WEDDING, NOT FOR SALE.’

We began working on them Wednesday. And for the next three days we had people asking ‘how much is this centerpiece?’

Too much.

The answer is ‘too much.’

The Phantom of Phaleanopsis asks for nothing less than your soul.

Friday-

We put the last of the centerpieces together- which includes fifteen very tall mercury glass vases (a shape henceforth known as a ‘pilsner’) where the arrangements are designed in a dish and set on top of the vase.

Because theses vases are so tall, they are set on the floor to be worked on.

This puts them at about waist-height.

You know where this is going.

“Red, can you put this centerpiece away?”

“Sure thing!”

Red stoops down and begins to carry the vase from the bottom, and just as Grandpa begins to say ‘no, the top- they’re not attached,’ his weight is thrown off and the entire thing topples over and a loud and high-pitched crash resonates through the room.

If you know mercury glass, you know that when it breaks- it shatters into a million pieces. If you don’t know mercury glass, imagine the last time you’ve seen a busted lightbulb.

Silence fell over the workshop, and for the first time since we’d opened that day, it was quiet enough to hear the radio.

I-Iiiiii’m Speechless...., sang Dan + Shay on Central Ohio’s Best Country Station 92.3 WCOL

“Red,” says Grandpa. “Please tell me you know where another one of those might be.”

Blue speaks up instead. “There’s still one at the front of the shop,” she says, coming to the rescue. Red is very sorry, apologizes profusely and spends the rest of the day outside a five-foot perimeter of Grandpa’s workspace.

There are at least four more near-misses of the very last pilsner vase being brushed by someone’s leg someone barely grazing the draping ruscus as they walk by. We learn to stay away. Grandpa glares at anyone who comes too near.

She has just finished the last one and allows Coach to squeeze through to get to the computer. We are cleaning up. We are done. Just one more day and the largest wedding we’ve ever done will be wrapped up and we can move on to Valentine’s Day.

As Coach turns to go back to his desk, his knee just barely hits a single frond of asparagus fern and we all watch, in slow-motion, as Grandpa catches the centerpiece in one hand, but fails to steady the pilsner. And into a thousand shiny pieces, it shatters- to the tune of Cole Swindell singing ‘...even though we break up in the end.’

“That... was the last one,” she says. “I gotta stop making these things on the fucking floor.”

That was the last one. There are no more. The only option is to order more pilsners to be delivered at night and hope to every god that they actually bring them.

It is now Saturday and everything looks amazing:

And we are due in at 10:30.

There are no pilsners.

And add insult to injury, the night driver came in under cover of darkness and stole all of our pegboards.

Pegboards are thick, interlocking plastic panels with a grid on them intended to hold pegs of PVC pipe securely. Setting arrangements on them and then surrounding those arrangements with those pegs helps transport them safely.

We can’t move these without pegboards. All of the vases are mercury glass. They will break.

Grandpa, summoning the rage of every short person in her family tree, screamed into the phone until someone finally agreed to send back our damn pegboards and the fucking pilsners.

“Do you not understand that this is a $5000 wedding and that the person getting married is one of our vendors?” I can only imagine the reason they finally sent someone because the three-headed monster that runs this place felt a swift kick in the wallet.

As soon as a person arrives with our pilsners and pegboards, all four persons required to set up the wedding in four separate vans are out the door, and the bride... is on the phone.

“Um... I’m due to get married in the next hour and none of your people are here.”

“They just left a few moments ago,” I said to Kris Stapelton’s ‘Broken Halos.’ The fact that I can hear the country music is a sign that everyone... everyone... is listening. “They’ll be there in just a few moments.”

“They better be.”

This is the only time I have heard this woman mad.

Hours pass and we have no word on anything. No word is good word. Phone calls are bad. We don’t like them here.

The setup crew returns with good news- everything is fine. Red occupied himself with a standee cut-out of the Pope and took a number of photos with him posing next to him. I’m told this is a Catholic thing. No one could confirm it.

It is 5:00 and we have made it through another day.

Sunday morning. 9am.

The phone rings.

No.

Just... stop.

“Hello, uh... this is the greenhouse. See the problem is that when we were taking your uh... what are these tall vases?”

“Pilsners?”

“Yeah, when we took them down we lined them all up. But one of the movers didn’t know that the flowers weren’t attached so... they all kinda tumbled down domino-style. And we kinda broke... all of them.”

Grandpa did that thing where she kind of laughs and weeps at the same time, to the sound of Brothers Osbourne singing ‘Shoot Me Straight.’

#flowerdrama

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years

Text

Three Days ~ 3

AO3

~*~Sebastian~*~

I straightened my clothes when I got out of the SUV. I realize my first impression is already shot to hell, but I'm attempting to make up some ground. In front of her door I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before knocking. I tried to re-frame my sudden nervousness as excitement. When she opened the door two things happened. My mouth started to water and my jeans shrank at least one size.

I went with it. "You look beautiful." I kept my voice soft and smiled.

The peach shirt and white jacket set off her eyes and slightly tanned skin. I liked the slight swell of her breasts showing out the top of her shirt. Just sexy enough. I mean, I have nothing against naked breasts, rather like them, but this was a good first date look. Believe it or not, there is such a thing as too much. And there's time and place for more. This wasn't it.

Emma smiled and put her hand on my bicep, "Thank you. You clean up nicely."

I laughed, "I didn't really pack for a dinner date."

"I thought you might be limited, so I went with jeans."

My head jerked a little in surprise. "That's really nice. Thank you." I had to stop myself from staring. I'm not sure what I'm more amazed by: her kindness or the ease with which she speaks about her thought process. She says it like it's no big deal, but it is. Or maybe I'm more jaded than I thought. I snapped myself out of my thoughts, "Ready to go?" She nodded and I put my hand on her lower back, leading her to the vehicle.

I started backing out and remembered I didn't know where we were going. I put on the brake, rested my hands on the steering wheel, and looked over, "Which way? Where we going?"

"I had two ideas. In town there's a pub. Typical pub food. Bar on one side. Restaurant on the other. Probably live music, but its not loud on the restaurant side. Or about five miles north there's a place on the river with outdoor tables. They specialize in ribs and barbecue, but have everything from steak to seafood."

"Outside on the river sounds good. Nice night for it." I pointed at the navigation screen. "You put it in. Then we can talk without getting lost."

She laughed, "Are you sure we haven't met before? I'd completely get talking and forget to tell you where to turn."

"I think I'd remember." I smiled and watched her press the buttons. Her nails where longer than her fingertips. Long enough to feel, but not so long as to do damage. I should probably stop thinking like that or my my pants are going to shrink more.

"How is the moving going?"

"Good. They hired movers for the actual move. I'm here to shift boxes to other rooms, hook up electronics, and hang things. I think mom used the move as an excuse to get me to visit. When my step-dad retired they moved upstate. Now they're closer again, so it'll be easier."

"Are you an only child?"

"I am. Mom and I left Romania when I was eight then moved to New York when I was twelve." I didn't know if she knew my history or not. It was very vain to think she'd googled and read interviews. I wasn't sure if she was a fan. I liked how my job wasn't part of the conversation. That couldn’t last, but it was nice for now. "What about you?"

“I have an identical twin. Amelia.”

I don't think she was done talking, but I burst in. “That's so cool. Emiliana and Amelia. Did you switch around to fuck with teachers and boyfriends?”

An evil grin crossed her face. “All the time. Our parents mostly. They could never tell us apart. They tell this story about how my dad was so sleep deprived that he forgot to put on our color coded booties and they're not one hundred percent sure which one we really are.”

“Oh fuck! Priceless.”

“Once we hit our junior year Amy cut her hair and started dying it red. If we wanted to pull anything off we had to pull our hair up and shove on a hat. She's got a daughter now and since we're identical twins Katie is genetically my daughter too.”

My mouth dropped open, "I'd never thought of that." I raised my eyebrows, "Never been out with a mom before."

"First time for everything."

We laughed and conversation was easy the rest of the short drive. She pointed out the river walk and restaurant as we drove across the bridge. I was thinking an after dinner stroll was a good idea.

It was early enough that getting a table by the water wasn't a problem. Either the time or the hostess recognized me. She sat us in the corner of the deck with water on both sides. It was a beautiful view. My date and the scenery. Date was better. Before the hostess left she looked at me, "I'll send your server right over, Mr. Stan."

I guess that answers that.

There was a drink menu on the table. I picked it up and looked at Emma, "Do you drink?" She nodded and I handed her the menu. "A beer on the water sounds good."

The server showed up, took our drink orders, and by the time she brought our beers we were ready to order. There was a lull in conversation between discussing the menu and whatever was going to come next. We both took a drink to fill the space. I pulled at the label on my bottle nervously. "What do you for a living?" I knew I was opening the door for the same question, but it was the next logical topic.

"I teach first grade."

I never had a teacher who looked like her. "Why first?" I liked finding out why people made the choices they did.

"I like teaching the little people to read. Kindergartners are too squirrelly. There's a lot of time just teaching them how to be in school. Lots of crying in Kindergarten. Fifth graders are starting to be smart asses."

I nearly spit my beer across the table.

She laughed and handed me a napkin from the dispenser on the table, "They are! The hormones are starting to kick in. No thank you. Third and fourth are assessment years and it's all about getting them ready. Second is this weird hybrid where you're reteaching what they missed in first and getting their basic skills ready for third." She took a drink and continued. "First graders are perfect. They get so excited when they can put sounds together to make words and then read the words in a book. Or when they figure out three plus two is the same as counting three stars and two stars, figuring out the algorithm. I love teaching them to subitize. That’s knowing how many things there are without counting them. We play songs and games. Their little faces light up and they're so proud of themselves. The ones who struggle. It's hard to figure out how to help them and keep their confidence up. They break my heart." She put her hand over hers.

Her love of what she did was obvious. I couldn't remember talking to a teacher after I left school. My teachers just tortured me with homework, papers, projects, and group work. I shook my head, "Until right this second I had never thought of a teacher being excited about their students learning."

"You either had shitty teachers or hated school."

"Both." I looked up, searching my memory. "Leaving Romania was good, but I didn't speak anything but Romanian. I was a good student, but when we moved to Vienna I had to start over. I couldn't communicate. I couldn't read. It was hard. Mom threw a fit because my teachers used the language issue to not push me. She wasn’t having it. Then we moved here and it was starting over again. I was in that awkward stage, had at least three chins, didn't have any friends, and could barely speak English."

She cringed, "I don’t like your teachers. You have to work harder. There's always kids with stories. Whether they’re new, or a parent has died, or they don't speak English, or they've been abused, or they’re just different. You have to work harder to find a way to connect with them and be different for them. You have to have the relationship to help them learn. I'm not going to lie, sometimes you don't like a kid, but that's the job. You're the adult. Figure out how to make it work."

"Yeah, I didn't have teachers like you. It got better. Puberty helped and so did partying." I smirked around my beer bottle as I drank. "My teachers didn't look like you either. Would have paid more attention if they had. Well, maybe not paid attention, but enjoyed class more."

Her shoulders raised a little and one side of her mouth curled up, "Want me to teach you to read or something, Seb?"

"Now there's a loaded question." She’s still figuring out what to call me. Fuck. I might be sad when she figures it out and sticks to one name.

Luckily or unluckily our appetizers arrived. The flirting was fun, but we’re early into dinner. Lots of time for flirting. Good to mix it up.

We'd ordered a sampler. I picked up one of the fried pickles, "There's a place in Atlanta where these are called frickle pickles."

"I grew up in Alpharetta."

"Did you? I've spent a lot of time in Atlanta." I kept going without even thinking. "The Marvel movies filmed there and most of Falcon and the Winter Soldier will be filmed there." I stopped with a pickle about to my mouth. "Umm."

"There's the elephant in the room." Emma popped a french fry covered in cheese and bacon in her mouth.

I chewed my pickle slowly to buy a little time. What for I don't know. It's awkward. I wiped off my hands and finished my beer. "I was enjoying ignoring the elephant." I leaned forward onto the table. "I liked just being a guy on a date."

"You still are." The look on her face was showed she was amused.

I liked that she wasn’t taking the topic seriously. I'm pissed I brought it up. We were doing fine getting to know each other without the complications of what I do. No one explains that part to you in acting school. You just learn about the craft, business, and what not to do an audition. They don't teach you about someone posting a picture of you laying shirtless in the park. You're doing what everyone else is doing, but if you were anyone else no one would care about you laying in the park getting some sun. This is why actors, and models, and sports stars date other actors, and models, and sports stars. All of those things which become a normal part of your life are normal for them too. It's not normal to other people. And until I mentioned filming in Atlanta I was having a damn fine time being a guy helping his parents move.

I want to fucking scream.

I drummed my fingers beside the plate. "I liked being the homeless guy you met in the baking aisle."

She frowned and put her hand over mine, "I didn't think you were homeless. There's a rehab facility up the road. I thought you were an addict stopping for chocolate before checking in. To help with the withdrawal."

I threw my head back and laughed hard. "Even better!" I turned my hand over, holding her fingers, and rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. "Can I go back to being that guy?"

“You're still the sweet guy running errands for his mom. The one I waited for at the check out. Before I knew his name or recognized him."

My eyes were wide and I was doing that thing I do where I'm licking my lips and playing with my tongue. That can mean lots of things. Right now is intrigued with a side of slightly nervous.

"It's going to be hard to get to know you if you don't tell me about your friends and what you do with your downtime."

She had a good point. I wasn't sure what my plan had been. Her talking about herself all night wasn't going to work. "I can do that. Talk about my friends."

Things have gotten more complicated. Not for the reason I expected. We've pretty much worked around the how do I be an ordinary man with a not so ordinary job problem. Now the problem is I'm holding her hand. It's soft and warm and I don't want to let go. I want to stay touching her. I can not figure out how we're going to eat.

#Sebastian Stan #fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction

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freddiesaysalright · 5 years

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Catching Up Part X

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic!

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I’ve been so busy with requests! But I’m really dedicated to this story and I can’t wait for y’all to see how it ends! We’re getting close now!

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam, @grandaddy-roger-trash, @rogerloveshiscar, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @danamaleksworld, @mrsmazzello, @reedusteinrambles, @rexorangecouny, @caborhapch, @kurt-nightcrawler, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @queendeakyy, @hotttspace, @anxious-diabetic, @someone-get-a-medic, @psychosupernatural, @lizvxx

Let me know if you’d like to be added! I think this story is going to have two more parts and an epilogue!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Part X here we go!!!

Joe got his castmates on skype to tell them the big news. Rami, Gwilym, and Lucy were in Chicago. Allen was in London. Ben was in Los Angeles. But all of them knew that it was the day, and they had already arranged a time for Joe to call when they could all answer. You and Joe were on your laptop at your apartment, grinning like crazy at each other and at your friends. They looked eagerly at the two of you.

“So,” said Rami. “Boy or girl?”

You and Joe looked at each other and then back at them.

“It’s a boy!” you cried in unison.

They all clapped and shouted their congratulations. You held up the latest sonogram and they absolutely fawned over it.

“He’s beautiful!” Lucy cooed.

“What are you gonna call him?” asked Ben.

“I thought I told you,” said Joe. “Joseph Francis Mazzello IV.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re already Joe,” Ben said. “What’s his nickname gonna be?”

“Joey?” Gwilym guessed.

“I call him Joey,” you said, pointing to Joe.

“We could both be Joey,” Joe said.

“That might get confusing,” Allen added.

“Whatever we call him will come naturally, I think,” you said. “He might even tell us what he wants to be called.”

“That’s true,” Joe said.

You chatted with them for a little longer, and they caught you and Joe up on what was going on in their lives. It was nice to hear from them all. The only one you hadn’t met in person was Allen, but he was very nice. When they all had to go, you hung up. You sighed and looked at Joe, happier than you had been in a long time.

“So, what would you say to a round of destressing?” he teased, leaning over to kiss you.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” you returned, smirking.

“It’s just doctor’s orders,” he said.

“Well, I can’t very well say no to that,” you said, kissing him again.

Giggling, you made your way to the bedroom to celebrate.

The following weeks were mostly focused on the move. You and Joe hired movers since you were well into your second trimester and it wasn’t safe for you to lift anything. It made you feel incredibly useless throughout the process. Joe insisted you were carrying the most precious piece of your home, and therefore had no obligation to move furniture or boxes.

On the official moving day, which ended up being late September, you spent time with Christy while Joe oversaw the moving process. It was nice to get quality time with her and celebrate your friendship together before you both took steps you knew meant less time for each other. Several times throughout the day, you got a little emotional thinking about it. As much as you loved Joe, you were going to miss Christy dearly. You were walking together in Central Park when you had to stop and rest.

“Sorry,” you said as you took a seat on a bench. “I’m feeling a little nauseous.”

“Ice cream didn’t agree with little Joey?” she wondered.

You shook your head. “I dunno. I’m still having a lot of nausea. Not as much as the first trimester, but enough to be annoyed.”

“Is that normal?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” you said with a shrug. “Pregnancy is so fucking weird I figure there’s no ‘normal’ way, y’know?”

“I guess that’s fair,” she chuckled.

“According to Google I shouldn’t worry,” you said. “It’s probably just that my hormones are going crazy right now.”

“It just sucks you can’t take anything,” she said.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I get headaches a lot too, so it’s doubly awful.”

“God, I’m never getting pregnant,” she joked.

“Never say never,” you returned. “Don’t forget we weren’t trying for Joey here.”

She laughed. “I’m gonna be super careful to not get pregnant,” she corrected.

When you were feeling better, you began walking again. You told her about all the things you and Joe had done to prepare the house and what you’d gotten for the nursery. She was honestly thrilled for you and couldn’t wait to see it.

Joe picked you up from the park, looking sweaty and exhausted from a whole day of moving. After saying goodbye to Christy, you slid into the passenger seat, cradling your belly in one hand as you settled in. Joe kissed your cheek.

“You look sexy,” you joked, wiping his hair off his soaked forehead.

He smiled. “The house is almost done. We just need to unpack clothes, but I’ve got stuff for us to wear tonight.”

“Okay, we can take care of that tomorrow,” you said. “I can’t wait to see it.”

It looked much like you had imagined it would over the weeks. You and Joe had picked out everything together, and it really felt like yours. This was the Mazzello home. Joe wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked through it together. There were boxes of clothes, and some kitchen things that needed to be put away, but that was all part of moving.

“Welcome home,” Joe said.

You grinned. “It’s perfect.”

That evening, after you and Joe ordered a pizza and had that for dinner, you settled into bed pretty early. For the first night in many, you didn’t make love because he was so tired. You didn’t push because your stomach still felt a little queasy and you didn’t feel super sexy. Just as you leaned back against your pillows and cracked open a book, your phone rang.

“Who’s that?” Joe mumbled beside you, half asleep already.

“It’s Christy,” you said, and picked up. “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”

“I just got our mail,” she said. “You’ve got a letter from Nick.”

“What?” you gasped. “Can you bring it over? We’re already in bed.”

She scoffed. “Really? You leave our apartment for one day and you’re already a grandmother?”

“We’re lame and tired,” you returned, trying to joke but worry was too strong in your heart. “Can you just bring it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, and hung up. You knew she was already on the way.

“What’s up?” Joe asked.

“Nothing, baby,” you assured him, kissing his cheek. “Go to sleep. I just left a few things at the apartment.”

He muttered something else, but you didn’t really take it in. You got up, put on sweatpants and went downstairs to wait for Christy. The fifteen minute trip felt like hours when she was bringing you word from Nick. You hoped this meant he was ready to take a plea bargain and you wouldn’t have to go to court again.

When she arrived, you opened the door before she could knock. She had the letter and a few other things for you, but you just tossed them on the counter as you turned the kitchen light on. You eagerly ripped the letter open and pulled it out, your eyes frantically scanning the page. Your mouth fell open at what you read.

“What?” Christy asked. “What did he say?”

“What did who say?” Joe added as he came into the room. “What’s going on?”

“Nick wrote me from jail,” you told him.

“Why’d you say it was nothing?” he demanded.

“I wanted you to rest!” you insisted. “Why are you up?”

“I don’t sleep well without you next to me,” he said.

You didn’t have time to admire that sentiment. Christy let out a frustrated groan.

“You two are adorable, but we don’t have time for this!” she cried. “Y/N, what did Nick say?”

They both had curious eyes on you as you read the words on the page once more, cementing their reality in your head.

“He wants to see me,” you told them. “He says he’ll take the plea bargain but only if I come and talk to him. But he doesn’t say what it’s about.”

“This feels slimy,” Christy said. “Like a trap.”

“He can’t hurt me,” you said. “It’s all supervised.”

“Y/N, are seriously considering going?” Joe questioned.

“Of course,” you said. “If I can end this sooner, I want to take the opportunity.”

“But if you can get him in court -” Christy began but you cut her off.

“We don’t know that for sure,” you said. “And the court date sucks because Joe’s gonna be in London for the BoRhap premiere and you’re going to be in Florida with your boyfriend. I’d have to go alone.”

“What if he’s lying?” Joe asked. “I’m with Christy, I think he just wants to try and intimidate you again.”

“Well, so what if it is?” you said. “Then we’ll go about it the original plan. I don’t see what harm it can do.”

“It could cause you more stress, and the doctor said to do things that do the opposite of that,” he reminded you.

“It could also relieve the stress,” you argued. “Because then I won’t be so scared about going alone to court.”

“Why do you want to go so bad?” he questioned.

“All the reasons I’ve just said!” you returned. “Aren’t you listening to me?”

“I just don’t understand why you’re giving him the satisfaction,” he said, heaving a sigh. “This puts all the power in his hands.”

“It’s not about having power, it’s about finishing this,” you said. “I want to move on from him, and the sooner the better. A whole month before the court date.”

“Y/N, you can’t do this,” he said. “I’m gonna have to put my foot down.”

Your mouth fell open and you blinked at him for several moments. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Oh my God, run, Joe,” Christy muttered to him.

“I said I’m putting my foot down,” he repeated. “No.”

“You know if you’re gonna keep speaking to me like that, you might as well get me a chew toy,” you spat.

“I didn’t mean -”

You cut across him. “Oh, didn’t you? Because that’s how you talk to dogs and badly behaved children, but definitely not your girlfriend who is five months pregnant with your child.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down.

“Apology accepted,” you said. “I love you and value your opinion, Joe, and you don’t always have to agree with me. But you will treat me with some goddamn respect.”

“Jesus, Y/N, use a dick,” Christy breathed.

“You’re right,” he conceded, ignoring your friend. “Again, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and I just worry about you. That’s all.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said with a sigh. “I’m going to see Nick. And you can come with me or not, but I’m going.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I think it’s right, but I don’t want you to go alone.”

When you had everything arranged to go and see Nick, you found yourself more nervous than you thought you’d be. You tried to think of what you could say to him, but Joe and Christy advised waiting until hearing what he had to say before forming any ideas. Not having anything prepared though made you feel anxious.

The jail he was being held in also made you nervous. The officers there were stern and intimidating, but you figured they had to be with the job they had. You would see Nick in a common area that reminded you of a school cafeteria, but a lot scarier. Nick looked rather pathetic is in uniform, and he’d clearly not gotten any drugs either. His recent bout with withdrawal was written all over his face.

Joe held your hand tightly as you took a deep breath. Nick would also now know that you were pregnant. You’d been careful during the first court date to wear loose clothes and hide your bump. It helped that he hadn’t looked very hard at you. You saw his eyes go wide when he noticed it now. You placed your hand on your bump as you took a seat across from him. Joe remained standing, keeping a hand on your shoulder as he glowered at Nick.

“So,” you said. “What do you want to say?”

“First of all, I want to say I’m sorry, Y/N,” he began. “I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.”

“Okay,” you said, your voice stony. “You tried to say that before you broke my phone and wrecked my apartment. You’re gonna have to do better, Nick.”

“I don’t know what came over me there,” he said.

“I do,” you remarked.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, and you got quiet. “I don’t know what came over me. I truly didn’t go there with the intention of hurting you or begging for you back. I went there to ask you for money, and I lied to try and get it from you, I know. I don’t know why you having a boyfriend upset me so much.”

“Did you think there was still hope for us?” you asked.

He looked down at his hands. “Maybe a little. I always thought if I got clean...you might...”

“Forgive you for selling naked photos of me?” you wondered in disbelief. “How could I ever get past that?”

“You’re right, it was stupid,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t help but hold out hope, y’know?”

“This is getting off track,” you said. “Is there anything else you wanted?”

“I just want to know that you forgive me,” he told you. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to face a year in prison.”

You completely hardened as you glared at him. “You wanna know what I faced because of what you did? I was a prisoner in my own head, fearing every fucking camera I came into contact with. I was afraid for my job, for my reputation. I lost friends and family. It affected my relationship with Joe. And then you sent them to him and his friends and God knows who else! I had to start over all the progress I’d made on moving past it! And you want my forgiveness so that you can go to prison and feel okay?”

He sputtered for words.

“I forgive you, Nick,” you said, and he looked at you, wide-eyed. “But not for your sake. I’m forgiving you so I can move on with my own life and focus on this.” You placed your hand on your belly again. “He’s my life now. I’m looking forward, because I can’t look at you anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes and your head started to pound. You winced with pain and Joe knelt closer to you.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “I think so. I’m ready to go now.”

You both looked at Nick and then you spoke again. “Is there anything else? Are you ready to take the plea deal?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Just one more thing.”

You looked expectantly at him. He nodded toward your baby bump.

“If I had never gotten into the drugs, do you think that could have been us?”

“No,” you said simply. “It was always going to be me and Joe.”

He nodded, resigned, and you told the guard you were ready. You could feel Nick’s eyes on you as you left, willing you to turn around for one last meaningful look, but you didn’t give it to him. You were ending this on your terms. And that meant turning your back to him forever and pressing on with Joe and your son.

When you exited the prison, you felt so free. Joe looked hard at you. You’d gotten a little emotional inside, but that was gone now. Relief washed over you like a wave.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” you said, taking his hand as you made your back to your car. You stopped him before you got in, turning him to face you.

“I meant what I said in there,” you said. “It’s me and you now, okay? And little Joey. I’m not worried about anyone from the past. Not when I’ve got you two.”

He kissed you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as his lips claimed yours. This kiss sealed it.

“No more looking back,” he agreed. “I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about this.”

“I love you too,” you said. “And don’t worry about it. I understand why, and it makes me love you even more. You still supported me through it. Thank you, Joe.”

“You feel good about everything?” he asked.

“I do,” you assured him. “It feels like closure.”

He pulled you into a hug. “Good.”

You broke away and you both climbed into the car.

“You know what this means?” you said eagerly as he started to drive back to the house.

“No, what?” he wondered.

“We can just be excited about the premiere of Bohemian Rhapsody!” you squealed. “Yay!”

He laughed. “And then Joey’s gonna get here!”

“I know!” you cried. “We’ve got so much to look forward to!”

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x you #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap boys #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #queen imagine #John Deacon #John deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #catching up series

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slasherkisss · 6 years

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CABIN FEVER - JASON VOORHEES X READER [CHAPTER 3]

Summary In an effort to remove yourself from your previous life in the big city, you move to Crystal Lake. The cabin you had inherited from your father makes the perfect place for a fresh start, however, there is a secret in these woods (and within yourself) that you must come to accept…and to love.

A/N Thank you for all of the support on this series so far, everyone! I’m amazed so many people enjoy it. The chapter after this one will contain some NSFW and sexual themes, this one is just...setting up the mood so to speak. I hope you enjoy it either way <3

The days after meeting Jason felt more like a dream than the actual encounter. No matter how many times you had attempted to convince your mind that your encounter was merely a vibrant, dream hallucination, you simply could not bring yourself to admit the blatant lie you were attempting in the back of your mind. It wasn’t a dream, your more vibrant half barked out with teeth bared, because you had seen the pairs of footprints when you had went outside to check the next day. You had looked for the missing lilac scarf you had offered the man in place of his cold nothingness and he had accepted. The sight of Crystal Lake, frozen perfectly in the moment you had met, etched itself into your mind like an acrylic painting.

It would be less frustrating if you had some sort of closure. A signal to remind yourself that he was real. That this whole thing was true to your memory, which had already faltered you so many times in the past that you would not give it the satisfaction of doing so again. Yet, in the days that ticked by with each second feeling like hours in the forefront of your disinterested cranium, there was nothing but frustration. You began counting each hour of the day, muttering the numbers to yourself out loud as you washed dishes or cast a glance at the clock on the wall that you were, honestly, still not sure if it told the right time. Two days, fourteen hours, forty seven minutes, fifteen seconds….Two days, fourteen hours, forty seven minutes, twenty seconds….

Then you found the first gift.

The term was used loosely, of course, because many people could consider it a threat over a gift. You had opened up the door to your home, intent on shoveling some snow out of the way of your continuously icy porch, but, were stopped by the sight before you. It was the skull of a small animal, unidentifiable without its fur but omnivorous according to the teeth that shone pearlescent in the light. Its hollowed eye sockets stared into you, startling you at its appearance. It was arranged in such a way on your front porch mat that you could not think it a mistake. For there was no other part of the animal. There was no other sign something had moved it there aside from footsteps in the fresh snow that looked all too big to be yours.

You leaned downwards, picking up the fragile bone with the most delicate grip you could manage. Resting the skull in your palm, you rotated your hand so that you could observe the item from all angles. It looked...natural. A skull dug up from the resting place of something long passed away. It had decayed years ago, leaving only its bones in its wake. It looked small...but the teeth were fierce, pointed canines curved sharply with molars resting the back. Your lip twitched slightly. Did this remind him of you, you wondered? Or perhaps you were reading too much into it. Perhaps he did mean it as a threat...Perhaps he wanted you gone?

No, you reasoned. He knew where you lived. If you had been a threat, you would have died days ago.

Instead of wondering further, you simply took the skull inside. You located a spot on the windowsill that faced the front of your house, dusting off the perch lightly before placing the skull down on it, adjusting it in just the perfect position so that it was displayed proudly before the glass. You gave the bone snout a gentle stroke, another smile growing on your lips as you looked out the window, tilting your head as you tried to imagine him sliding into your porch, setting down the bone and leaving without even waking you up. It was...flattering is the word you chose to think, though most would not be too sure you should.

You felt a need to rebuttal.

Running up the stairs to your home, you entered your bedroom. A box lay next to your bookshelf, unattended to and not yet unpacked as you had been saving it until the last minute like any true house mover. There was always those final boxes that never seemed to make it out of the packed state, stuck forever in the way that they were. You fixed that with this one, freeing the contents as you pulled the tape along the edges off and flipped the closing sides open with a flourished heave.

It didn’t have too much in it, the simple decorations you had wanted to organize against your bookshelf where you did not have enough books to quite fill in specific gaps. Fingers grazed at the items within it as you tilted your head, biting your lip as you made an effort to locate the perfect item in which to return your current suitor’s communication. That’s what this was, right? Suitor in the sense of the old fashioned way of wooing women. Of leaving them gifts and courting them in a series of content and proper rituals. That sort of thing. You weren’t really sure, but, this felt right, and you had been known by more than one person to go with what you simply felt, not what your mind completely dictated was reason to you.

Your hand caught on a jewelry box, its sides chipped and paint faded. It had been your grandmother’s when she was a little girl and, to be honest, you weren’t quite sure why you had kept it in here. You were not close with your grandmother, with her living halfway across the country with no real interest in visiting you or your mother. You didn’t even wear jewelry, save for the occasional black choker to go with a stylish outfit when an outing demanded more than one simple accessory. You had worn earrings once or twice, but, found them annoying to take in and out, ending up with the same sapphire studs in your holes for longer than you probably should have before eventually allowing them to close up. Regardless of its origins, you dug through it, searching for something that might have been fitting or, at the very least, could be used for some sort of decoration.

You fished out a pearl necklace from it, the natural forming calcium carbonate weighing heavy in your hands. You tilted your head to the side as you considered the option of it, lip finding its way into your mouth and between your teeth as you thought. He wouldn’t have much of a use for it, that’s certain...Then again, there were rumors of him still loving his mother as well, as she was the one who had killed for him in the first place. Would homage to her be too forward? Or would he feel as though you didn’t care about him if you did this? It was always good to talk with parents, of course. Maybe she would like you? You ignored the fact that she had died in your mind, momentarily forgetful of the fact in favor of choosing the pearl necklace and walking gingerly down your staircase instead. While passing in the living room, your fingers ghosted across the items you had within it, settling on your bookshelf as you peered through the options.

Your hand happened upon an older copy of a childhood classic. A leather bound, shapely copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. You pulled it from its spot against your shelf, fondling it idly with a smile. These fairytales had always been your favorite, the grotesque endings so refreshing from whatever modern adaptations there seemed to be out there. The twisted way Cinderella’s stepsisters paid for their transgressions with the loss of their sight made you smug with a sense of justice. Yet, you also pitied the wolf in Red Riding Hood. A creature that was simply looking for its next meal, unsure of where it would be….When a human wanders into the forest, you thought, it is the forest who controls them now. What happens to them is of its own design, as the realm is not of their own. One had to respect where they were, because nature was always ready in one form or another to take what it deserves.

You put the pearls on top of the book and carried them out to your front porch, gazing around at the wintered wasteland for a few moments before gently placing them at the very edge of the porch steps. Snow sunk into the leather but did not wet it. The droplets that fell from the sky merely accentuated the pearls beauty. You bit your lip, suddenly unsure if this was the right thing to do. Would he accept the gifts? Would he find them offensive, maybe? Perhaps he wouldn’t realize they were for him and you should leave a note.

These thoughts bit at the back of your brain as you left the items where they were, closing your door and standing in the center of your living room, looking around almost aimlessly as you gathered yourself up. He would know, you determined with a final affirmation within yourself, and there would be no need to worry about it. The communication of gift giving was a carefully planned one, and no one would engage in it should they not know what they were getting themselves into.

You hoped. You really hoped anyways.

The day came and went and, as if you were a child on Christmas morning once again, you felt yourself giddily rushing down the stairs and out into the porch. Your feet were bitten by the icy snow underneath them as you forgot in your rush to put on proper footwear for the weather, but, you barely registered the bitter pain against the tips of your toes. For the book and necklace you had put down were gone. Like alchemy in their place was yet another skull. This time it was of a bird, an owl you assumed due to the wide nature of its eye sockets and the minatureness of its beak.

It joined the first skull on your windowsill, displaying itself proudly as you ran back into your home to locate another gift, now fully invested in the pattern you were about to encourage between you and the mysterious killer of Crystal Lake.

The pattern repeated itself for several more days until it became somewhat of a daily routine for the both of you. You would wake up to a new present each morning, usually a skull but sometimes it had evolved into winter flowers and rocks from the edge of the frozen lake, smoothed by years of erosion against the shore, and you would in turn leave the present of jewelry or a book or whatever else you had in your home you felt you could part with. Once you had dared to leave a note with your items, it was simply a piece of paper with a heart drawn on it. When it was taken with the gifts you had left, you felt pride swell in the pit of your stomach with the hope that he knew just what you were insinuating with the single shape. When you receive the present of what looked to be human teeth resting in a neat pile, a heart drawn next to it crudely in the snow, you knew that your affections were returned.

This lead to, more often than not, the daydreams of Jason filling your already chilled mind. You imagined what he would be like in your home, his hulking form sitting on your couch as you leaned against him and read a book. You pictured him leaning down and allowing you to press a kiss into your cheek. Your mind then wandered to the thought of more than kisses, picturing the torso hidden under his tattered clothes and, without a doubt, the cock that would match the proportions of the massive man, and you had to bury your face in the pillow you were hugging to push it away properly.

The knock on the door shortly after the imagery was startling. It sounded heavy set, the solid thuds of a fist that made the wood of your fragile home groan in protest. Your heart skipped a beat, daring to hope of just who it was. Standing up, you put the pillow you had been holding down against the couch and hurried out to the door. When your hands rested on the cool metal knob, you felt...somewhat hesitation. An inkling of unsureness creeping up your spine like a parasite until it wrapped your brainstem, your mind growing fuzzy as you thought of the consequences this could possibly lead.

Consequences? Your mind scoffed at your thoughts, for if he wanted your death he would have dealt with it. If there were consequences, you thought snarkily to yourself, he wouldn’t give you such gifts. He wouldn’t pull a human’s teeth out for you. Give him a chance, you silly girl. Give it to him.

With that you opened the door.

Jason stood there, lilac scarf wrapped around his neck. The sight made your heart leap with appreciation, knowing he kept the fabric with him. His breath came out in puffs through the holes of his hockey mask. Bits of frost still clung to the yellowed mask, making him look almost like a statue in the light of the slowly setting winter sun. It was endearing, you realized with a blush warming your cheeks. It was handsome. He tilted his head at you and you grinned back.

“Hello, Jason. It’s good to see you.”

He didn’t respond and it was only then you chose to look down. He was holding things, you realized, and had extended his hands to you in order to get you to see them. One hand held the tomb of fairytales you had given him in your first tentative gift exchange, its leather cover now dusted with frost and wetness.

The other hand held a severed human arm.

There was a moment that your stomach lurched at the sight of it. It was your turn to tilt your head as you stared at the limb with borderline fascination in your eyes. It looked like it was fresh, but, just old enough so that it didn’t drip any crimson blood down in the snow and on your flooring, which you were thankful for. You didn’t think you had any books that stated how to get blood out of hardwood.

“Is that another gift for me?” You dare to question.

When you’re met with a nod of confirmation, the smile leaks onto your lips without you having to force it. Hands extended, you wait patiently for him to place the item in them. He understands after a moment of staring, reaching out and placing the arm between your fingers. It’s bare, the skin pale and slowly greying with the frost and rigor mortis setting in. It’s colder than you would have thought, and you could see the splintering of the bone inside of the severed area as parts of the ripped flesh dangled slightly, blowing in the wind that echoed through your door. The person had freckles, you noticed. You brought the object close to your eyes to observe if, the scent of rot vaguely registering itself in your nose as you ran your fingers over the palm and bent each of its digits testily. They gave friction against your actions and you found it...amusing in a way. You tried to imagine it as your high school bully’s arm and it gave you a twisted sense of solace.

“Thank you,” You hummed with a grin, “I like it a lot. I don’t know where I’ll keep it, though...It might smell if it’s inside. Maybe I can have it in the back shed…”

As you mulled, Jason proceeded to dare to reach out, tapping your shoulder in such a gentle way that you startled out of your thought process. He held up the book to you, staring at you with silent intent. Your eyes searched his, flowing from his face down to the book in hand and you tilted your head. A sense of understanding...and then guilt...flooded your system.

“Oh,” You mumbled, “You don’t know how to read?”

He shook his head no.

You dared to take this as an opportunity. Lowering the limb to your side, you reached out your free hand and offered it to him. The air was tense now as you felt yourself say the words most would have been terrified to even consider, yet, they flowed like melted butter from between your lips.

“Would you like to come inside? I could show you the stories in them, if you’d like.”

You expected him to back away and disagree as he did the first time you met. You expected him to take offense in one way or another and decide it was time to murder you. You expected anything else but the sight of him hesitant at first, but, slowly reaching out his hand and placing it in yours. His fingertips were cold from the frost of the outside. One digit was easily two of yours, maybe three. His palm completely consumed your own and your skins finally touching sent a tingle of delight down your spine. You didn’t believe in soulmates or love at first touch, certainly, but...the feeling you had upon gaining his grip was nothing short of electrifying.

With a shy smile, you lead him inside of your home. He followed.

#jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th #jason voorhees imagine #slasher x reader #cabin fever series

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imagining-sio · 6 years

Text

Escapism I

Chapter one: Wlecome to Mount Eaton

I’ve always loved a biker!bucky Au so viola...

Bucky Barnes x reader

——————————————————————————

It was the perfect place to vanish. The whole town was nestled between the mountains at one end, and the lakeside off to the other. The only border was thick dense woodland. One where people who search for Bigfoot would only dream of going.

The town itself was a small four stoplight kind of place. It was the “They kept the old buildings in their original paint because it held charm” kind of place. A far reach from the hustle and bustle of where I once called home. I gripped the steering wheel as I drove down the mountainside. The olive green ford bronco held all the contents I wanted to take with me. All that I couldn’t find myself living without. It was a depressingly small amount. However over the course of my trip across states I had accumulated quite a bit.

I knew what was waiting for me in this sleepy town, as I drive through it I could see a few heads turned, given they had never seen my vehicle before. I could only give a tight lipped smile as I kept driving toward the outskirts of town, near the lakeside.

I pulled up onto the inclined street of my new residence, and was surprised to find a gathering of motorcycles on one side. There was a house on either side. The house accompanied by at least 8 motorcycles was bustling with life. The garage was blaring old classic rock music, it was his kind of music. I felt a chill run up my spine at the thought.

I turned my attention to the small house across the street. I recognized the small sedan from the realtor three weeks ago; back when I was motel hopping. The middle aged woman was busy on her phone glaring in sustain at the neighbors across the street.

I placed my vehicle in park in the driveway, taking a deep inhale before hopping out of my beloved Oliver.

“Miss Y/L/N; so good to see you again! I just came by to drop off your keys to your home.” The woman sauntered up to me as she finished her text.

“Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry we couldn’t do this earlier. I just want to thank you for letting the movers in when I wasn’t here.” I smiled gratefully, letting my fingers drift over the keys. This was my house. This was to be my home. My new start.

“Oh it’s no trouble dear! You didn’t need to pay me extra for that. I know it’s hard getting your things across state lines at the same time.” She dismissed me with a small chuckle. She clearly liked the extra pay, as in she had only told me now about how it was extra.

“Well thank you again.”

“Just one last thing before you go sweetie. Be careful with your new neighbor. They are not particularly liked round town.”

My brows furrowed, and I peered across her shoulder toward the crowded garage. The music somehow got louder, and was project across the street. Truthfully, any noise complaint could be solved by telling them to turn it down.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Honey, they are a biker gang.” She handed me a card; “This is my husband’s company card, I’ll put in a good word for you to get a security system.”

With that she went back to her luxury sedan and drive off. She didn’t mention that on the house tour, then again they weren’t there. Also that would explain why the house itself was dirt cheap, Apart from lack of curb appeal.

‘Just as long as they don’t come bothering me there won’t be a problem,’ I told myself. I walked up to the porch and unlocked the front door. Apparently my realtor also took up interior decorating. The place was arranged in all the wrong ways, there was barely any life in it. Once I got my stuff settled I would be sure to move it.

I couldn’t beat the backyard view, though. I had a lovely fire pit to stargaze with my telescope. The house was surround by the tall tall trees, and the music from across the street was muffled by the sound of the lake and the trees. A small dock led out far enough to dive right into the waters. Though I doubt, with how frigid the weather is right now, I would do that.

Still; it felt like I belonged here. That was a good omen at least.

I walked back and forth between the trunk of Oliver and my new home, every now and then glancing at my neighbors; intently watching for any movement toward my side of the street. As I went to grab the last box of my belongings, I noticed the garage was dispersing toward the curb.

It was quite the eclectic bunch, they were mostly broad shouldered, well built people all around. They certainly differed in height, ranging from my height, which was about five foot five inches; to the two tallest being about six foot seven. The eight of them planting themselves onto their respective bikes. They all however were giving me a kind smile, and a small wave before they rode off. At first I don’t know how to respond, but I simply just gave a small waving acknowledgment gesture akin to theirs and went on with my business. By this time it was just about sunset.

When I came back out to close Oliver up and place him in the old garage I found a lone figure, most likely my new neighbor; from his detached garage toward his matte black mailbox. He had on a leather jacket, black in color, under it a grey shirt. His pants were fraying at the knee, most likely from overuse.

He had this air about him, a cockiness. Whether it was from the cigarette that dangled between his lips; or the way he dismissively glitter through his mail. Something about him was both intriguing and at the same time, not.

I shut the trunk with a heavy sigh, purging my thoughts, not even sparing a second glance as I went to shut my front door.

—————————-——————————————

It had been two whole months since I moved here. By that time I had grown accustomed to the town, and them to me. The local florist began to supply succulents after I expressed my interest; thus the reason for my increased cactus collection. It also brought him more business with the children round town, or at least those with internet access.

The general store was the hub for everything groceries and town social meetings. The suburbanites would occasionally paruse into town, but only for school functions. Everyone and their mother was so intrigued to find out just why I, a young single woman with no children, had decided to move here. They were also interested about why I moved across the street from the local gang of bikers. They were more adamant about the latter.

Truthfully, I hadn’t had any trouble from my neighbor, or his budding social life. I wasn’t the only other young single woman in town, his nightly company was a clear indication of that fact. A new woman almost every other night. I never told anyone else that, mainly because I expected they already knew.

My job at the bookstore was perfect; everyone in town loved it because it doubled as a coffee shop. When you bought a coffee, you could also take a book off the shelves to read, as long as you left it at the table when you were finished, wed put it back. If you wanted to buy it, you could do that too.

I was probably the youngest employee these people ever had; by the looks of the town, not many young people were looking for a job here. However, the owners, an elderly married couple, happily accepted me. They were like the great aunt and uncle I never had. It was a refreshing spin from my old job, and I could still pursue my hobbies in the lulls between the breakfast and lunch rush.

“Y/N dear, would you mind closing up tonight?” Edna, the owner and coworker piped up from the back.

“Not at all,” I wrote down the order of the tall blonde in front of me, asking myself why someone should name their child Thor. His accent was Norwegian, so I couldn’t really fault them there. Then again, I’m not about to pick a fight with the leather clad lumberjack.

“What book would you like, sir?” I asked, as was routine.

“The Silmarinion if you have it.” He smiled warmly. Couldn’t fault him for having great literary taste either.

“Edna! One coffee with milk; Two lattes, one iced tea, a hot chocolate, and one black coffee to go if you’d please!” I called.

“Oh! Thor’s back?” I’ve never seen a 72 year old move so fast. I chuckled as I went to find the book he requested. I searched through the aisles, with no such luck. I remembered that someone else had asked for the book and they had already left. Perhaps it was on one of the tables outside, it was a bright day and the weather just right. I walked outside and checked the outdoor tables, finding the book instantly.

As I went to reach for the book, the roar of an engine made me jump. I couldn’t understand how a bookstore coffee shop was so close to an auto part store garage that loud, and still have such healthy business. I glared at the storefront, it’s open garage adjacent to our windowed storefront. ‘Barnes & Rogers’ had to be some sort of trademark infringement. The amount of motorcycles outnumbered the automobiles. The music radiators from the shop with a heavy rock and roll base you could feel from across the street.

I could only glare as I went back on with my day. I handed the book in question to the large burly man.

“Here we are.” I said with a smile. He gave a wide smile and a thank you before taking a seat. I went back behind the counter to help place the coffees into the to go bags.

“Y/N would you be a darling and help Thor deliver the drinks to his coworkers.” Edna wrote the respective orders onto the cups before placing them in their carriers; “My husband usually does it but he’s out sick today.”

“Sure, lemme just take the apron off.” I undid the bow around my waist and hung the emerald apron upon a hook.

“Thor honey; Thomas is out today, so Y/N volunteered to help you today.” She hand him one of the carriers. He traded her with the book, giving a grateful and gruff thank you.

“This way, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. It was like he was a big teddy bear disguised as a lumberjack god. He held the door open for me as we walked down the street. It was nice, until I figured out where we were headed.

“So I hear you are the new girl? Yes?” He tried to make polite small talk.

“Yes I am? But you don’t sound like your from around here either?” I shot back playfully. He laughed.

“Indeed I am not, but I like it here. It reminds me of home.” He smiled fondly.

“That’s good.”

“How do you like your new home?”

“I couldn’t ask for better. The house is just the right amount of space for me.”

“And Bucky?”

“Who the hell is bucky?” I asked.

“You haven’t met your neighbor yet?” He quirked a brow. So that was his name. What is it with this town and their oddly named people?

“It appears I have not.” I said dryly, still somewhat grateful I hadn’t.

“Well we’ll soon fix that.” He opened the door for me as we walked into the shop. He ushered me through another door and we were both smack dab in the center of the auto shop.

There was a loft which led to what looked to be the office of the place. Cars were either on jacks high enough for the men to work below them, or being torn apart. Sometimes it was both. A few of the motorcycles were being worked on. And other people were fabricating iron. The sparks flew on the other end of the large shop. I watched as the masked figure welded metal together. The yellow glow making a heavily aura.

“Barnes!” His voice boomed like thunder; “coffee is here!”

“About damn time!” Voices chimed together. I watched as the welder looked up before setting the equipment aside. He removed his gloves and torn off his mask, revealing the head of brunette locks.

Of course my neighbor was the one I was ogling; How else could god make it more awkward for me?

“Who’s the girl?” The first man to approach said slyly. His smile was warm and kind. His hair was clipped close to his head, and a healthy stubble grown along his goatee.

“This is Y/N,” Thor explained, whilst handing the man his drink.

“As in the Shithead’s new cute neighbor he’s too afraid to talk to?” He raised a brow, as well as a smirk.

“Indeed;” Thor nodded with the same expression.

“I’m gonna get some mileage outta this.” He sipped his coffee before turning his attention toward me.

“Hi, I’m Sam Wilson. You can refer to me as the handsome one.” He joked. I chuckled, shaking his hand with a smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

“He isn’t be too bothersome is he?” Another tall blonde walked up, his hair a lot shorter than Thor’s. His white shirt was stained with grease and oil. He had a towel thrown over his shoulder, what he probably used to wipe his hands with. He himself looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place where.

“Not at all.”

“Here I’ll take that.” He gestured to the coffee carrier. I gratefully handed it to him.

“How you liking the house?” He asked, handing out the beverages to their respective owners. My eyes widened at the question, before quickly going into fight or flight mode.

“Excuse me?” I began to pale.

“Oh, sorry! That sounded really weird!” He quickly apologized.

“Well done Rogers.” Sam sipped his coffee to hide his smile.

“Can it Wilson.” He elbowed the man.

“I meant was we were there when you finished moving in. I mean, we’re always at Bucky’s house anyway, so we’re bound to see you on occasion.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Rogers. As in the name of the shop. And whom is a frequent to my mysterious neighbor. The one who is a leader of a biker gang. Who co owns the shop with Rogers. Which I am standing in and handing out coffee to.

Fucking hell. Don’t die just talking to them. Play it off somehow dammit.

“Oh! Right! Yeah, that doesn’t sound so weird after explaining it.” I said with nervous chuckle; “I do love the house, I can’t complain.”

I most definitely could complain, but not in front of them.

“Hey Barnes, come get your shit coffee!” Sam hollered toward my neighbor.

“I’m coming!” He yelled back dismissively ruffling his hair out of his low bun. His long sleeved black shirt stuck to him like a second skin, in which I felt bad for the seams.

“Come meet your neighbor while your at it. How come you never told us she was so cute!” Sam said condescendingly, only adding to the mans annoyance.

“What the hell are you talking about you fu-“ his cut short mid syllable as soon as he locked eyes with me. Me, in my striped three quarter shirt and jeans looking like a French tourist. The only pop of color was a pair of red sneakers due to my job description.

Him, in his taught black shit and dark washed jeans that looked like they were too tight around his thighs. His hair the perfect length to still be short and place in a bun without looking too creepy. The blue eyes that contained more depth than the ocean itself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” I outstretched my hand.

“Bucky,” he ignored me and walked toward Rogers for his coffee.

“Bucky, manners,” Rogers held his beverage out of reach.

“Screw you Steve; give me my coffee.” He clearly was irritated.

“Manners; then coffee.” The blonde said sternly, holding the cup close to his mouth. The brunette growled, sending goosebumps up my arms.

“Stop acting like you drink coffee Steve, we all know you won’t do it.” The brunette smirked. I guess I know who ordered the hot chocolate.

“My point still stands.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he glared at Steve, who had maneuvered behind me, as he shook my hand.

“It’s nice to be met; I can’t say the same for you at the moment,” I couldn’t stop the sarcasm from spewing out my mouth. A silence fell over the room. The brunette in front of me gave a surprised look, our hands still clasped together. The tension made me start to sweat.

And then the room was filled with laughter once again. It flooded the entire plain.

“I like her,” Sam patted his hand upon my back. Steve at last handed James his coffee, and the man sulked back angrily over to his corner where he resumed welding.

“I think that was the first time I’ve seen Barnes speechless,” Steve spoke with a fond smile.

“Thor! Bring her around more often!,” another man, shorter with spiky hair shouted as he walked away; “wen need someone to keep Barnes’ ego in check!”

“I heard that!”

“Are you always like this?” I asked Steve. He shrugged.

“Pretty much, Besides me or Sam; Buck is in charger of the shop.”

“What he means to say; is that we’re pretty much one big happy family.” Sam three his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m not happy,” The spiky blonde spoke up again.

“Oh my god Clint! We know! You’re never happy until you see your wife and kids every night! Jesus you are whipped, man” Sam and the man Clint walked off, laughing as they did.

I could only glance at the man in the corner I had just met. He barely spoke a word to me, and yet I somehow found out more about him in the time he hadn’t spoke.

I could only watch as he finished the piece he was welding together, sliding his goggles up further upon his forehead. He stared at the piece with great scrutiny, making sure what he had was perfect. The intestity of those blue eyes. It had an effect upon me.

The same way a lamb had when facing a wolf, especially when those big blue eyes were on you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker #biker au #biker!bucky #marvel #marvel imagine #imagine-sio #escapism #blep #welder #bucky barnes imagine #beefy bucky #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #eventual smut

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until-theend-oftheline · 6 years

Text

Lifelong Love Letter - Meet Cute

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: Mention of sex. Clumsy Seb? Reader ain't much better.

Word Count: 1900ish

A/N: This is for Lifelong Love Letter but it can be read as a standalone for sure. The series if you decide to read it as such is written out of order but placed in order on the masterlist as I add to it.

This is spring of 2012 for those keeping track.

It is also my entry for @i-dont-do-rpfs challenge and by prompt was birds singing. Thanks for letting me change fandoms on you guys!

Unbetaed. All mistakes are mine!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Lifelong Love Letter Masterlist

Sebastian was roaming the bookstore, not looking for anything in particular. It was uncommon. The small store run by an elderly couple was one of his favorite hideaways in the big city he loved so much. Sometimes though it could get too hectic even for him and this place was one of his escapes. It was like time had stood still in here. Heavy bookcases and furniture that looked as if they had been pulled from a sixties movie.

The store smelled like dark coffee, that the couple was selling along with the lady’s home cooked cookies and books. People don’t realize it today but books has a distinct smell. Leather and ink. Sebastian loved it here. They chatted with him when he sought them out otherwise he was left to be in his own little world. Looking at the books for hours or picking one sitting down in one of the heavy chairs, only looking up to smile at the woman as she brought him coffee and cookies. Sebastian never failed to buy whatever he was reading when he left the store, just like the man never failed to know the book he had picked cover to cover engaging in conversation with him over it before he left and upon his return when he had finished it. This place was all New York wasn’t to the outsider looking in, but the true heart of it to someone that had been all over the world but still knew his heart belonged in the big apple.

Today however Sebastian had been roaming around the shelves for hours not being able to settle on anything. It hadn’t been uncommon the past few months. Not since he had meet her. It was stupid really. She wasn’t the first one night stand he had been with, but she most certainly was the first his mind kept wandering back too.

Not because of the sex either. Not that that hadn’t been great because it had. Hell it had been fun and perfect, but it was her. The moments before. The way she had appeared so confident in one second and shy in the next. The way she had opened up to him, knowing she most likely wouldn’t see him again. Not for more than a fleeting moment at least.

She was a friend of Chris’ so Sebastian knew he could get her number. He knew he could call her up, but what would he say? He wasn’t sure he had the right and honestly he would rather be a good memory to her than the creepy guy that tracked down her number after a roll in the sheets.

Sebastian took a deep breath looking down at the book in his hands, before deciding it was a good pick as any to try and occupy his mind. He didn’t look up as he continued to flip over the book to read the back as he made his way to his usual seat. It was a tuesday morning and he always had the store to himself, which was why he didn’t give a second thought to looking up got get his bearings. Today however, he wasn’t alone. Only he didn’t realize that until he bumped into the woman in front of him, who was occupied looking at the shelve.

“Umpf,” a joint sound from the pair filled the stoor as she took a step to the side, wobbling a little. Sebastian reacted on instinct, dropping the book and reaching out to catch her so she wouldn’t fall. A pained groan left Sebastian as the book hit his foot and he bend over to pick it up before getting a good look at her. Only the woman had the same thought and their heads knocked together, causing another groan to leave both of them standing up straight. Only then did their eyes meet and Sebastian froze. Every apology he was about to make stuck in the back of his throat as clear y/c/e eyes looked into his. It was her. Y/N.

She seemed to be as shocked as he was but she managed to recover before he did. Well of course she did. It wasn’t like she had spent the last 3 months debating like an idiot if she should hassle Chris for his number and call him out of the blue. Right?

“Seb!” A bright smile spread across her face as she stepped forward again wrapping her arms around him. It took Sebastian a few seconds to respond, but when he did he was grinning like an idiot. This could have been awkward fast, especially as he had very uncharacteristically frozen at the sight of her, but thanks to her it wasn’t.

“Oh I’m sorry. Was that okay?” she looked mortified when she stepped back from the hug, but by now Sebastian had regained his composure and the smile stayed on his face.

“Of course it was,” he winked at her, enjoying the slight blush in her cheeks for a brief second before he continued. “What are you doing here? You in town for a concert or something?”

“Or something,” she smiled. “I actually moved here. For six months at least but if I like it here I might be staying. I needed a change of scenery.”

Sebastian didn’t ask. He knew she was tired of LA. She had expressed as much to which Sebastian had been quick to talk up New York.

“So you took my advice huh?” He grinned, making her playfully roll her eyes. God he had forgot how much he loved that.

“Yeah right. Actually I auditioned for Once and I got the part. Rehearsals starts in a few days so I just moved here 3 days ago,” she beamed and Sebastian couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

“Broadway huh? That’s a leap,” he smiled, “that’s amazing Y/N. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah… I’m terrified actually,” she laughed nervously. “I haven’t done any acting since high school. I’m just waiting for them to figure out I got no clue what I’m doing.”

“Well… I haven’t been figured out just yet so I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he smiled playfully, jumping backwards with a laugh when she tried to hit him when the book she was holding.

“That’s because you’re great,” she huffed, making Sebastian look down, cursing himself as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks. For once in his life couldn’t he just take a compliment without turning beet red?

“Not that you need it but if you need help running lines or something…” Seb let his words trail out as he ran his hand through his hair, looking at her sheepishly, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the excited smile on her face.

“Yeah? I’d love that Seb. Thank you,” she hugged him again and this time Sebastian didn’t miss a beat pulling her against his chest. He couldn’t believe his luck. He had regretted the events of that evening so many times. Not the sex in itself, but had he just waited. Asked her out. Something. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling what more than a crush of infatuation, but atleast now he had the chance to find out. If she would let him, but judging by how at ease she seemed with him, that didn’t seem to be an issue.

Sebastian felt himself grow bolder with each smile she offered him and he decided getting to know her maybe didn’t have to wait any longer.

“If you need someone to show you the best places in New York,” Sebastian smirked at her taking a small bow, making her throw her head back and laugh.

“Oh yeah? Offering your services are you Mr. Stan?” she teased and Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s the least I could do for almost knocking you out 5 minutes ago right? Not that you are doing to bad for yourself. You already found the best bookstore in the city,” he added, without lying. He was sure she’d be able to find her own way around the place, but a part of him couldn’t help but hope she would let him share his New York with her. All the places that made the city special to him.

“Well actually I’m starving so a place to get lunch would be greatly appreciated,” she pulled a face like she was suffering greatly and Sebastian couldn’t help but let out a heartfelt laughter. A plan quickly formed in his head as he bend down picking up the book he had dropped, putting it back on the shelf along with hers, under a few protests.

“It’ll still be here tomorrow. I promise,” Sebastian smiled at her as he lead her out of the store waving goodbye to Mrs. Abelo behind the counter, who was sending him a huge smile and silent clap. Sebastian smiled rolling his eyes as her as soon as his back was turned which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N.

“What?” she asked with a puzzled look on her face, but Sebastian managed to brush it off as he started talking about this amazing bakery he knew near Central Park. Y/N led him lead her to the subway, trusting him completely as they chatted about places and things she should check out. She asked, tilting her head listening intently to him as he spoke and he stopped and listened everytime she mentioned places she had always wanted to go. When they reached the bakery Y/N followed his suggestions on which sandwich to get and he ordered them a small box of mixed cakes for them to share and two bottles of water.

She didn’t object when Sebastian lead her to the park, instead she hooked her arm through his causing his heart to skip a beat. They kept talking as they walked until they reached the corner Sebastian knew would be peaceful this time of day. He sat down on the ground, with a shrug as she raised her eyebrows at him.

She didn’t object though, she just let herself fall down beside him with a giggle and another eye roll, before digging into the food. They talked and laughed, as she told him about the movers ending up at the wrong apartment and how it had taken her 2 hours to figure out how to guide them to the right location. She told him about how she had gotten to audition and how she had been sure she had messed it up.

Sebastian ensured her it was normal to feel like that, before sharing a few disastrous audition stories of his own with her, enjoying how she threw her head back when she laughed. He told her about his new 9 picture deal with marvel and how excited he was to return to the role of Bucky Barnes.

As time passed she somehow ended up with her head in his lap enjoying the spring sun and the birds singing around them as Sebastian himself leaning back against the tree trunk behind him. A comfortable silence fell between them as they enjoyed the simple company of the other and Sebastian knew that this was the start of something special. Whether it be a treasured friendship or something more remained to be seen, but he he knew he wanted her in his life and he got the sense the feeling was mutual.

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#sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian fluff #sebastian stan series #lifelong love letter #lll

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tjkiahgb · 6 years

Text

Episode Recap: 2.20, “For the Last Time”

The GHC gathers at The Spoon for a final meal. The mood is low. Buffy asks everyone to be cool. Or, at least, just don’t be uncool.

But I think it’s really unfair of Buffy to ask Cyrus to do something so against his nature on their last day. (Boom. Cyrus burn.)

The finality of everything they’re doing is taking an emotional toll, so Buffy suggests they try to lighten the mood. She tries to get Cyrus and Andi to sing “For the last time.” It doesn’t really work, but she keeps trying and on attempt three, they actually get into it and sing along.

I think it’s like that principle where you start fake laughing and keep doing it and eventually the craziness of the fake laugh makes you laugh for real. You fake sing until it becomes a real song.

Over at Bex’s house, we get Ham!

Where have you been you old so-and-so?

Ham is over to help Bex with some pipes. He asks Bex how she’s been and says they haven’t seen her around the house much. But, honestly, Bex has been around the house quite a bit. Where was Ham is the real question.

Bex says she’s been busy at work. She calls it “booking faces” but then admits she made that term up and Ham laughs.

(This screencap is just to capture the phrase “Ham laughs” for posterity because, seriously, how many times has that sentence ever been written out?)

Bex says she’s mad at Celia for buying The Fringe.

Hey, remember last episode recap when I was like: where is Ham and is he ok and how does he feel about buying The Fringe? Well, turns out the answers are: he’s around, he seems fine, and no one told him.

Ham is pretty upset to have learned about all this just now while underneath a sink.

Back at The Spoon, which I want to point out is again populated entirely by loose children...

...Cyrus tells a story about his grandma for the last time. Then Andi dives into her boy situation for the last time.

Andi finds herself confused by the Jonah and Walker situation, even after kissing Jonah last... night? I have no idea. I can’t keep up with this timeline.

This might be an important lesson for her to learn: you may like more than one person at a time. In fact, you may like several people at the same time. You may even be in a relationship and find yourself liking another person. It happens. We’re only human. But sooner or later, for the sake of all parties involved, you have to pick a lane. Now, normally, if you kiss someone, that’s a pretty good indication you’ve picked a lane, especially to the person you’ve kissed. (And even more especially if he’s an emotionally fragile child who was looking for that sort of validation after making a grand romantic gesture.)

But I guess Andi doesn’t entirely see it that way. Seems things are still sort of in limbo for her with regards to the two guys wooing her. And that’s cool. That’s fine. I see no way that could all go wrong and end up hurting people.

Cyrus asks if there’s time for one last performance of Tater Theater. He goes for the taters and finds it’s the last one.

Buffy wants to fight for it, for the last time, but Cyrus and Andi don’t. It’s a sacred potato and must be preserved.

But, must that also mean no Tater Theater? There are quite a few good Shakespearean soliloquies I’d like to see acted out by this potato first.

The finality of everything comes crashing back down on top of Cyrus and Andi and everyone is sad again.

Meanwhile, Celia shows up at Bex’s place looking for Ham. Bex wants to know why Celia didn’t tell Ham she bought The Fringe. Celia learns Bex told him and that’s why he’s been avoiding her: he’s mad at her.

Hey, remember last week when I also said Celia and Ham were my favorite relationship on the show and I hope nothing bad ever happens to them? Well, it’s the very next episode and Celia and Ham are in a fight. My brain. It’s the opposite of so powerful.

Celia says if everyone’s so against this idea, she can still cancel it. Bex tells her to do it, so Celia calls it off. Celia says she was just hoping to discuss the plan with Bex first before telling Ham. This talk of a plan is news to Bex. Celia says she was going to turn The Fringe into a boutique salon and make Bex the star makeup artist of the town.

To which Bex is like:

She’s super in to that plan. Celia is like, “Of course that was the plan. You didn’t think I was going to invest my retirement savings into the garbage The Fringe sells, did you?”

Celia says the investment isn’t in The Fringe, it’s in Bex, which, aww. I’ll never not be a sucker for a sweet Celia moment.

In that way, I’m very much like Bex, who responds to Celia saying that like:

They call the plan back on, but Bex says they have to tell Ham this time. And Celia is like, “Oh yeah, right.”

The GHC approach Buffy’s house. The move is in full effect. The movers are out front, moving and everything, as you do.

Cyrus says it’s like a solar eclipse: you can’t look directly at it. But I say that rule is really only for cowards who value being able to see. I haven’t lost a staring contest in 7 years and I’m not about to lose one to the Sun of all people.

The GHC hug. Buffy says the deal is they don’t say goodbye, especially because she’s just moving to Phoenix, which isn’t the Moon. And she’s right. Phoenix is not the Moon. It’s the Sun.

Here’s your weather forecast for next week, Phoenix:

You know what the temperature is going to be in Phoenix tonight, at midnight? A cool, brisk, 91 degrees!

But enough about the weather. The GHC talk about how they’ll still keep in touch.

Buffy says how much she loves her friends and wishes she could put the moment in a time capsule, which sets off an idea in Cyrus’s head: Let’s rob a bank! Just kidding. Let’s make a time capsule.

Andi is in, but Buffy isn’t. She just wants a normal day and a no-frills goodbye. Andi and Cyrus persist, but Buffy’s starting to feel like this is her funeral, which she says she will not be going to. Unfortunately, Buffy, one’s funeral is one of the few events by definition you really must attend.

Buffy runs off and slams the door behind her.

And this mover’s like, “Oh. We, uh, actually, still have a lot of stuff to load from inside there-- ok, then.”

Cyrus and Andi realize that might’ve been goodbye.

Later, Andi and Jonah talk at Red Rooster Records. Andi says she doesn’t want to have their last conversation with Buffy be that argument. Jonah notes that as hard as it is for Andi, it must be even harder for Buffy. Jonah thinks they should still do the time capsule, but instead of burying it, give it to Buffy as a going away gift for her to open whenever she wants. Andi realizes that’s a good idea.

Whoa. Was Jonah actually lucid in this scene? Did he actually have good ideas of his own? This is like the first time in months!

I’m so proud of him.

Andi and Cyrus sneak off to Buffy’s house and rendezvous with Buffy’s mom, Pat. Cyrus is dressed for a duck hunt and has binoculars.

Andi says she regrets giving him those for his seventh birthday. Is it just me or has season 2B been chock full of references to how long the GHC have known each other and gifts they’ve given each other in the past and memories from childhood and all that? They’re really trying to drive home how sad this breakup is going to be.

Andi presents Pat with a list of things they want to put in the time capsule. Pat opens it up and sees “flat iron” and “prison jumpsuit.” Andi and Cyrus exchange giggles about these memories and Pat realizes she’s missed some stuff in Buffy’s life.

I kind of wish the list kept going and getting weirder. “Six fingered glove? Big Mouth Billy Bass? Fake leg? Old Lady Thompson’s rose bush? A 1994 Mazda Miata? Buffy has all this stuff?!” And after every one, Cyrus and Andi just giggle and never explain what all this means.

Pat agrees to put the stuff she finds in a box for Andi and Cyrus.

Celia and Bex look for Ham around the house.

Andi comes in asking for a time capsule. Celia, sensing an opportunity to use her granddaughter as bait, tells her to text Ham to bring her one quickly.

At Buffy’s house, Buffy packs old photos when she comes across one of Marty from the Party.

A Marty shoutout! I’m glad he got a reference here. I miss Marty. It’s too bad he died when his plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan. (This is a reference to the show “M*A*S*H,” which is a really old reference even by my standards. Ask your parents to ask their parents about it.)

Pat wants to know who he is. Buffy tells her they don’t talk anymore.

Pat then asks about Cyrus. “Ever go out with him?” Buffy laughs and says, “Pretty much every day.”

Which, what a weird exchange that was. I mean, first off, that’s not an answer to that question. Pat was asking it off the back of talking about possibly dating Marty, so she wanted to know if there was a romantic thing there. But Buffy says “Pretty much every day” like, “Of course, we’re best friends!” And then Pat never follows up. This feels like such an obvious setup to talk about Cyrus’s gayness. Or just mention it at least. Like, “Sassy ___ friend” from last week. It’s like they want to throw those of us who understand the subtext of both of these exchanges a bone while still keeping it subtle enough that the youngest viewers don’t realize there’s a gay reference being made?

Anyhoo, Pat says she wants to take some of the pictures, but Buffy realizes she’s being weird and hiding something. Pat says Andi and Cyrus are making the time capsule. Buffy doesn’t want it because she doesn’t want a goodbye. She doesn’t feel she’s strong enough to handle it without crying and she doesn’t want that to be the last image her friends have of her.

Buffy wishes she was as strong as her mother, but Pat talks about how she cried, too, every time she had to leave. She tries to let Buffy know it’s ok to cry.

It’s a really nice moment. Great job by both actresses in this scene, too, by the way.

Back at Celia’s, Ham comes in with a container from THE TIME CAPSULE COMPANY!(!!!)

I love this so much. What in the holy hell is the Time Capsule Company? They just make time capsules?! How can that even be a business?

When Andi was texting Ham that she needed a time capsule, I was thinking, “Oh, sure, Ham will just pop on down to the ol’ time capsule store and pick one up.” AND. THEN. HE. DID! WHAT?! How did he know where to go? How did he know such a place even exists? Pull up Google Maps on your phone right now and search for a time capsule store. I bet you there isn’t one just down the street from your house. I live in Los Angeles and I get no results for that search. And all we have living here are the artsy type of people who would make time capsules.

Ham even asks Andi if this is what she wanted. Like, she asked for a time capsule. You couldn’t have nailed it any better than that, Ham.

Andi takes her shiny new time capsule and leaves.

Celia tells Ham she called off the deal. Ham says that’s good and that Celia can’t be doing this, again. Whoa. Is that a reference to something we know or what? Has Celia made big time decisions like this before without talking to Ham about it? Ruh-roh.

Celia promises she’ll talk to him next time. Celia and Bex then present Ham with a business plan and say he can say no to it, but Ham already knows he’s not going to turn them down. He really just wants the illusion of choice.

At Bex’s, Cyrus and Andi put together the time capsule.

Cyrus puts in the #thegoodhaircrew shirt he ordered forever ago.

He clearly didn’t splurge for overnight or even 3 day shipping. He must have gone with the free, get-here-whenever option that takes 6 months to a year to arrive.

He also puts in his Buffy basketball sign and a megaphone.

Andi puts in the JMS student handbook they all changed, a picture of them from sixth grade, and a belt made of the wristbands from Dr. Metcalf’s insanely expensive social experiment.

Cyrus pulls out a box that’s from Marty. It’s shoelaces and a nice note.

It’s cool to have one final thing from Marty, but I might’ve actually preferred they just left it at referencing the picture in the earlier scene and have Marty not know about Buffy leaving. This gift really reminds you they didn’t have access to Marty’s actor. It’s weird that Marty would learn Buffy’s leaving, take the time to go buy her laces and write the note, but not try to stop by and say goodbye to her after all their shared history. At least to clear the air between them. His note even makes it seem like he’s not in a bad place with her. It’s jokey and friendly. Like, he’s happy, but not so happy he’d could be bothered to show his face again? Alright then.

Bex shows up and wants to contribute. She adds the DVD set of Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Season 3. Why season 3? It’s Buffy’s favorite and it features the character Faith.

Cyrus and Andi add the glass encased final tater to the capsule, too.

Jonah shows up with basketball stuff. He got a basketball signed by the entire team, including one TJ Kippen himself.

Off-screen hashtag good boi behavior? I’ll take it!

You know what else is special about this basketball? Somewhere on the ball is the answer to the question:

WHAT IS THIS GUY’S NAME?!

Someone else go over footage of the names on the basketball like it’s the Zapruder film and let me know which one we decide is his.

Jonah says everyone’s going to miss Buffy. Even her nemesis. And Bex pops in and says TJ is to Buffy as Faith is to, well, also Buffy. The other Buffy. The vampire slayer. (Little bit more on that here, if you want.)

They add the basketball and Buffy’s jersey to the capsule and take it over to Buffy’s house.

Guys, can I just say, I was shocked when they walked up to the house and it was dark. I got right away what had happened. I really thought, given the talk from Pat about it being ok to cry, Buffy was going to give in and have that emotional goodbye.

But nope. Andi, Cyrus, and Jonah find Buffy and her family are gone. No goodbyes. Just moved out of town under the cover of darkness, like Robert Irsay taking the Colts out of Baltimore (you know the deal: ask your parents... provided they’re sports fans who lived in Baltimore in the mid-80s).

Cyrus, Andi, and Jonah console each other as the episode ends.

I have to say, the image of these three sad kids standing in the cold, looking for their already gone friend, is heartbreaking.

Credit to the writers for always doing a good job of getting there emotionally. Even if they have issues with the plotting every now and then, they’re very consistent with how they hit their mark with the emotional beats.

Also, credit to the kind editor of the scenes from the next episode for giving us a half a second of TJ and Cyrus, like a little cherry on top of an already good episode.

I’ll take it!

#Andi Mack #Buffy Driscoll #Cyrus Goodman #Bex Mack #Ham Mack #Celia Mack #Jonah Beck #Pat Driscoll #Andi #episode recaps

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justmaxirons · 6 years

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Out of the Box || Max & Ashley

Summary: When Max and Ashley move into their new home, things are bound to get interesting

All of this still felt surreal to be happening, but in the best of ways. It had made her a little emotional to decide what to keep and pack up the apartment that they had created so many memories in, but she was so excited to be moving into a house - their new home - with him. The renovations that had needed done on the place were complete and adapted to their tastes, the majority of the big furniture had been put into place too, and now all they had to do was unpack their way through the numerous boxes and figure out where everything else was going to go. Moving into their home was the best early birthday and Christmas present that she could have asked for. “Are you guys excited to see where we’re moving to?!” She started to laugh at the three dogs wagging their tails and wobbling their heads in excitement as the white house came into few. Already, the walk through the forest and up the quiet side road had won them over. The smile on her face grew even bigger when the white carriage house came to view. “Will I do the honours?” She asked and brought out her key to put in the lock. Ashley unclipped the leads to let the dogs go in first and looked up at Max with a grin. “I do believe you promised you were going to carry me over the threshold the day we moved in.” She reminded him.

---

“Do you realise that it was about a year ago, give or take, that you moved in with me into our apartment?” Max looked away from the house which had just come into view behind the tree line, and towards his wife, who was still talking to the dogs. All of them were equally excited, and he could imagine Ashley actually skipping along the sidewalk, if her hand wasn’t currently in his. The thought made him smile. “Look at them loving this already.” During the week, whil Ashley had been in Portland shadowing directors and producers of Marlene King’s new show, he had overseen the renovations that had to be made for the place to look all new and shiny, and he had left their dogs at home, so they wouldn’t add to the chaos. Despite a few hiccups, the contractors had worked swiftly and thoroughly, and he was excited to show Ashley the house as it was now. Earlier in the morning, they had overseen the clearance of their old apartment, and had sent the boxes ahead with the movers, which was why they were going to their new home on foot, just their rucksack and handbag with them. “Please do, luv’,” he grinned at her, and held the door open for their dogs, who shot inside and started sniffing around right away. “I did, didn’t I? And properly this time, too.” That being said, he bent down a little and swooped her off her feet, carrying her over the threshold and into their new home, bag and all, then held his foot out to kick the door closed. “Are you ready to see our new place, too?”

---

“Was it really?” Ashley asked a little astonished and shook her head in disbelief at the thought. It was incredible to think about how much they had grown in the past year. This time last year, she had decided to move in with him and now here they were, married and on their way to their house that they had bought together. “Look at us now, we’re homeowners,” The more she said it, the more it started to register, and the more she smiled about it. “I told you that they would love this walk,” With the way that their tails were all wagging in unison with each other she could safely say that her assumption had been right. Since she had come back from Portland they had focused on packing their things and had kept away from the house to let the contractors finish off their jobs. She was excited to see the house again with the completed tweaks and their furniture in place, especially when Max was just as elevated in showing her what had been completed since she had last set foot in the place a couple of weeks previously. “You did, and you didn’t think I’d let you forget, did you?” She looked up at him playfully and started to laugh when her feet left the floor and he took her in his arms bridal-style. “The last time I remember you carrying me like that was our wedding night,” She started to laugh as he kicked the door closed. “I think so… Should I close my eyes for the big reveal?”

---

“Give or take,” was the reply, because Max wasn’t entirely sure about the date she had moved in fully - it had just happened so gradually that one day her apartment had been basically empty, save for a few books and decorations. By that time, he couldn’t quite imagine not living with her anymore, and to have her move in fully had made him even happier than before. They hadn’t planned any of it - things simply happened, because they let them or encouraged them, just like this place had just happened upon them just now. But that was part of the fun of being with Ashley, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I was counting on you reminding me,” he laughed at her, and bent down to steal a kiss, before picking her up swiftly, arms securely under her knees and behind her back. “There was good reason for it, too, wasn’t there?” Just thinking back about the day they were married had his heart jump with happiness - Max didn’t think it was possible to feel happier with every day he was with her, but she proved to him every single day that it was possible and something not to miss out on. “You could,” he rumbled good-naturedly, “but then you’d be missing out on all the fun.” Gently, he set her back down on her feet in the entrance hall. “I know I’m really good-looking, but I think our house deserves your full attention now.” His teasing came with a broad smile. Max couldn’t help but steal another kiss from her, the first in their newly renovated home. “What do you think?” he muttered, and turned her around. “Is it fit for a cute tiny gremlin queen like you?”

---

“Mhmm,” Ashley hummed good naturedly into his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed. She knew fine well that if it wasn’t for her reminder then Max wouldn’t have acted on his promise. “You just better not drop me now.” She warned him with a playful glare, but he seemed to have a tight enough hold on her for that not to happen. She was sure that she had passed the same joke to him on their wedding night too, “There was. I think I’ll have you carry me like this for every special occasion, how about Christmas too?” She told him with a chuckle and kissed the tip of his nose cutely. Just like when they had gotten married, this marked the start of a new adventure and chapter for them that she was incredibly excited for. Little over a month ago this had been a conversation they’d had over breakfast, and now here they were, house bought, renovated and ready for them to move into. Her suggestion of closing her eyes had mostly been a joke, but his response had her smiling, “I don’t want to miss out on any fun.” She pouted a little when he put her back down on her feet, a little disappointed that he wasn’t going to be carrying her room to room. “You’re incredibly good-looking. I’m enjoying looking at your face in this light.” She laughed softly and returned the kiss. Once spun around and in full view of their living room she didn’t know where to look first. It felt so much more homey and them now that their furniture was in place. “So far I love it. That big couch we chose looks so comfortable I want to kick my shoes off and lie on it straight away.” She remarked with a grin, “I think so, yes! It has the gremlin approval. It’s going to look even better without all these cardboard boxes, too.”

“Don’t you think such an entrance on Christmas morning would be a little extra?” Max laughed at her suggestion, although he could see it. Kilcoe Castle in West Cork was perfect for this kind of appearance, and he would surely consider it, although he wouldn’t admit it just yet. Her kiss to his nose made him smile, and he nudged his nose against the tip of hers with a gentle smile. “That’s what I thought, luv’,” he replied with a satisfied sigh. From the look on her face, he could tell that she would have wanted him to carry her around further into the house, but the boxes prevented him from moving all too freely, and it was better not to push their luck. “Well, you can keep looking at me, but this is way more interesting right now!” As always, their kiss left him feeling like he was floating on a cloud of happiness, and it took him a moment to catch up with her. He had seen the house empty before, and with some of the furniture set up, but now everything was in place, and it looked wonderfully homey and cozy. “We should perhaps have a look around everywhere, before we tackle those boxes. Come on, Gremlin, there’s much to see.” Their house looked perfect, with light coloured walls, lots of light from large windows and the wooden beams standing out along the high ceilings. There were colour accents from their furniture and already unpacked things everywhere, and he could only imagine what it would look like, once they were finished. “I asked one of the boutique’s assistants in town to come and help arrange our wardrobe for us, while you were away,” he told her, as they ascended the stairs. “Most of our clothes are already there, come have a look!” But first he backed her against the bed, until her legs hit the side of it, with a large grin. “Our first night together in a new bed, too - that’s going to be all kinds of special...” Max pointed upwards to the ceiling, where a mistletoe hung from one of their lamps, then arched his eyebrows. “Do you want to do the honours, or should I?”

---

“We’re spending Christmas in a castle, do you not think that’s pretty extra too?” Ashley pointed out to him. This Christmas was going to be incredibly special for the both of them. The last time that they’d been in Ireland had been when they had gotten engaged in the summer and she was looking forward to going back for the holidays. “I don’t know about that.” She told him with a lopsided grin and turned her face to the living room. “As handsome as you are, this looks amazing.” She was extremely happy with how everything looked. They’d had a fresh coat of paint applied to the walls to touch up any blemishes and put their furniture in, and she even noticed that Max had put the cushions and their favourite blanket on the couch for them to use later. “I’m not unpacking until I see the rest of the house.” She told him, curious to see what all the other rooms looked like now they had the special Max and Ashley touches and specifications. He headed towards the staircase and she closely followed behind. “Did you?” Her face lit up, he hadn’t told her that little detail. The walk in wardrobe had been one of the defining moments for her. “I’m dying to see what it looks like!” But before she had the chance, Max apparently had other ideas and pushed her down on the bed. “I’m not going to miss that four poster one bit.” She hummed and rested her hand against his cheek, “By ��special’, why do I have a feeling you aren’t talking about the sleeping?” She teased with a waggle of her eyebrow. She started to laugh at what he pointed upwards to draw her attention to. “Our first Christmas decoration.” He must have been sneaky enough to have placed it there himself. Rather than answer his question verbally, she instead pulled him down so that he could meet her lips in a gentle kiss.

---

“About as extra as it gets, but you know my father - with him around, anything is possible.” Not quite sure what else to say, Max could only add a shrug to his reply. He knew his family was a bit out there, and that wasn’t even the most outrageous of it yet. Being reminded about their Christmas plans brought a smile to his face - last year, they had escaped and celebrated just the two of them, and this year, they would bring together their families and siblings to celebrate together. “I know it does,” he grinned, “you can go back to ogling me tomorrow.” Observing Ashley, he couldn’t have been happier with the surprised, wonderful expression on her face, as she took it all in. Most likely, he had had the same look on his face, when he had first seen the progress the contractors and movers had made, but to see her discover it was a treat. “All right, come on then!” Only all too eagerly, he went ahead, then turned around to wait for her to catch up. “We’ll leave the kitchen for last,” he added to his earlier explanation, and gave her another, very telling grin. “And you will see it, but I’d rather show you this first.” Their bedroom was one of his favourite places in the house, light and lofty, and with enough space for everything they wanted. A bookcase could be found at the wall behind the door, the side room with their bathtub was on the opposite side, and their new bed was the centre-piece for the room. “Neither will I.” Tilting his head to the side, he leaned into her touch, then turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “It really depends on what we want to get up to - or still can get up to after the upcoming unpacking, luv’.” The longer he spoke, the wider his grin got, until he joined in with her laughter. To put up a mistletoe above their bed was just about the cheesiest thing he could have come up with, but to see her smile and hear her laugh, he would take the teasing that she surely would lay on him in the next few days. Crawling onto the bed after her, he settled above Ashley, and let her pull him down for a kiss, their first, one of many in this very bed. One hand braced above her head, so he wouldn’t crush her, he used the other to slide down to her waist and under the sweater she was wearing, teasing her warm skin underneath the longer their kiss wore on. “Didn’t you want to see the rest of the house,” he muttered eventually, each word accentuated by a peck or a nibble to her lips.

---

“Tomorrow? But that’s a long time.” Ashley told him with a light frown. There was so much of the house to see, and the giddy part of her wanted to be able to see it all at once. She couldn’t believe that a house so breathtakingly amazing was their home. She latched on to his boyish grin and why he wanted to save the kitchen until last straight away “I want to have at look at those new counter tops,” She grinned at him right back. The bedroom looked incredible too with the touches that had been added. They’d picked the book case, and more importantly, the bed and mattress together. She definitely wasn’t going to miss that damn four poster bed that she had developed a strong dislike from since the very first night she had spent in Max’s apartment. “I won’t miss bumping my head on the posts either.” She chuckled softly, his lips on the inside of her wrist brought a pleasant tingle to her skin and made her smile up at him. “I guess you’re right, we’ll need to see how many boxes we get through and how tired we may or may not feel.” Knowing them, their first night would be spent falling asleep early, whether that be in their new bed or on the huge couch also asking for their attention. To have put mistletoe over the bed may have been a cheesy move, but she also found it cute that he surprised her by placing it there. Their first kiss was sensational, and while she let his hands drop down to her waist and sneak under her shirt, her own made their way down his chest. His fingers working at her bare skin sent a flutter in her chest. “I do,” She mumbled against his lips, smiling at each little peck and nibble that he gave, “But I don’t think I can get up when you have me like this.”

---

Instead of a reply, he bent his head and kissed her forehead with a fond smile. “I love you, Ash. Never change.” Almost one year ago, they had bought an apartment in New York, which had easily become their second home by now, but this one? This was the perfect mixture of them, even more so than their old place - and it was theirs entirely, too, which made all the difference for him. With the renovations that had taken place, and the new furniture mixing with the one they had already had it looked absolutely stunning, and despite having seen it before, he looked around once more, partly through her eyes, and marvelled yet again. “Later, darling, we’ll have all the time in the world.” Their fridge was fully stocked, but they would probably order in, and enjoy eating it straight out of the boxes, while sitting on their brand new counter top of their kitchen island. So easily, Max could have remained on the bed with Ashley forever, he knew, touching and kissing her, and breaking in their new house in every way they felt like doing. There was no greater place to be than with her, and he fully enjoyed the sensations of their kiss, the softness, the love for each other, the happiness and giddiness they still felt at everything they had looked at so far. “You think an awful lot, while I’m trying to seduce you,” Max teased her playfully, but obliged, sliding off the bed and offering a hand to help her up. “There’s much to be seen, so up, up you go.” Laughing, he pulled her along with him, to their walk-in closet, which held their clothes already, organised better than they could have ever tried doing themselves. “I’ll definitely find my sweaters again this way. And my shirts. And my socks.” Having looked at all the rooms, bar the kitchen, they eventually set out to open and unpack their boxes, starting at opposite sides of the room and working their way towards the middle. “Hey Ashley?” he asked after a while, “what is this?” In his hand, he held a large neon lip-shaped pillow. “Why haven’t I seen that before?” As he held it out in front of him, he walked over to her, then put it right next to her face. “Looks like your lips to me...” The velvety version of her lips in hand, he leaned in to kiss her.

---

“I love you too and ’ll try my hardest not to, I promise.” Ashley replied and chuckled when his lips tickled her forehead. “Later,” She hummed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Max was right, they did have all the time in the world and the whole day ahead of them, but before they started to fool around and break in various surfaces and rooms she wanted to tackle and unpack at least some of the boxes. Although, right now, lay on their bed with Max positioned on top of her and his hands running up her sides, she wasn’t she if she wanted to move at all. Her lips tingled from the aftermath of their kiss, and while keeping her gaze fixed on his, she ran her tongue along her bottom lip to taste him again. “Oh shush,” Despite the fact he was obviously teasing, she still shot him a playful glare. “This won’t be your only chance.” She grabbed his hand, tempted to be cheeky and pull him back down with her onto the bed as opposed to getting up, but decided against it. Hopping down from the bed, she let him giddly lead her through to the walk in closet. “I love it!” Her face lit up at the sight in front of her. Everything was organised, grouped together into different sections and even colour coordinated. “I’m going to make you promise to keep your side neat like this.” She chuckled and kissed his cheek. The guest bedroom, bathroom and office space, where they had decided to start going through boxes, had all got her approval too. “What?” She turned around, curious to what he had found. “It’s a pillow,” she answered him coyly - a neon pink, lip shaped pillow that she had forgotten all about until now. “A fan got me it a few years ago. I can’t believe I still have that, it’s hideous!” She reached to try and take the cushion from him and toss away somewhere out of sight. “I didn’t know they were neon coloured and velvety... But I’ll take it.“ Chuckling, she leaned in to the kiss and closed her eyes, losing herself in the feel of his lips against hers. “You know,” She hummed softly, “You’re being very distracting.”

---

The realisation that this was their new home, and theirs alone, was slowly, but surely settling in, which was why he - instead of going for broke - was able to resist losing himself in their kiss. They had time, and they would savour it all, and it would be fun to pick new spots to make out or have fun in for the next few weeks. He didn’t think that their house would become mundane to them for a long while, and he was looking forward to all of the new memories they would make along the way. A growl passed his lips, when his eyes fell to her lips and the way her tongue ran over it - and Max leaned in to steal another kiss, before he could help it. “No, it won’t,” he agreed, as he pulled her up from the bed, “but I really need to step up my game, if you keep thinking straight...” Excitement flooded him, as he watched Ashley’s reaction to their walk-in closet and he made a mental note to send the shop assistant, who had been so helpful a gift for her efforts on top of her pay. “I cannot promise it’ll always look that way,” he laughed, because as much as he loved order, he was rather chaotic, but for her, he would certainly try. “She really went all out, the only thing you need to put together yourself is your jewellery.” There was a little safe in the room, hidden behind clothes, where they could put some of their more valuable things, and thin drawers with velvet cushions for the day-to-day jewellery she liked to wear. They toured the house, stopping every odd moment to share a touch or a kiss, and marvel at what haven the contractors and the movers had transformed their home in in such a short time. “A fan? Did she make it herself?” It was rather hideous, the colour at least, and he let Ashley throw it into a corner, where it was picked up and dragged away by Olive immediately. “It’ll go in the charity pile, all right?” Despite her slight grousing at his words, he grinned, and kissed her sweetly, silently admitting that her real lips were so much better than anything fans could come up with. Ever. “When am I not being distracting, luv’?” he muttered, while he tried hard to keep his hands to himself, so much so that he buried them in his trouser pockets. “What are you unpacking right now?” Peering over her shoulder at the open box, his eyes widened. “Are those my audio tapes?” Max had long since had the tapes his father had recorded for him digitalised, and the originals had remained at home - until now that was. “I haven’t seen them in so long -” Reaching out, he traced them with his fingers. “Did you ever listen to them?”

---

“I want to see how you plan on doing that.” She challenged with a raise of her eyebrow. Although, Max’s skills hardly needed to be worked on at all. The simplest of touches or kisses from him drove her wild, and she hoped that he knew that. Ashley knew that there wasn’t much chance of their walk-in-closet staying in this pristine condition, especially with Max’s organisation skills. Whoever the boutique assistant was had done an incredible job, she would need to press Max on it further later on so she could go about thanking her personally for her work. “That should be a simple enough job. Though, I’m not sure if I can make it as well organised as this!” She was in disbelief that this was actually her wardrobe, and her home now. The more she saw, the more she was convinced that this wasn’t real and some kind of dream that she was going to wake up from any moment. “I’m pretty sure she did. I must have thought it was worth bringing home with me, but look at it! It’s so tacky..” Tossing it to the floor, she started to laugh when Olive picked it up in her mouth and ran out of the room with it. “I’ll leave it to you to try and take it from her later if she hasn’t chewed it up.” She remarked with a chuckle. It was hard not to smile and gaze up at him when he drew back from the kiss. “Hardly ever… When you aren’t, I’m worrying.” She hummed softly and pecked his lips, he was trying so hard to keep his hands to himself that it amused her. She glanced over to the box she had started on and grinned. After asking about it with the view to surprise him , Sinead had sent her Max’s audio tapes and she had been keeping them safe ever since, waiting for the right moment. “I think this one might be your things.” His widened eyes and his surprised expression said it all about what it meant to him. “Your mum sent them to me… I wanted to surprise you.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I haven’t touched them. I thought that could be a thing for us to to together.”

---

“You’ll see - one day,” he teased her back, her challenge leaving him grinning at her suggestively. Of course, Max knew all too well how to push her buttons, and how to make her lose her mind, but it was too amusing for him to make fun of her use of “I think” to let it go right away. “It’s your jewellery, how hard could it be?” Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her through the large mirror opposite them, then grinned. “But we’ll do things one at a time.” The living room had the most boxes still packed, which meant that they should probably start there and work their way through their new house in the next few hours and days. It took an hour for him to get bored enough to start distracting her, and luckily for him, it worked right away. “Well,” he mused, trying not to laugh too much at Olive’s stealing of the tacky pillow, “it’s gone now. I’m curious where we’ll find it. Or if ever.” Her reply drew a snort from his lips and he pressed them against the side of her neck to stifle the sound. “I’m hardly that bad, luv’,” Max mumbled, smiling at her, before his attention was diverted by his old tapes with his father’s audio books. “She did?” The thought that his mother had given them to Ashley for safekeeping, as well as the knowledge how much his parents adored and appreciated her, ever since the beginning, left him with a wonderfully warm feeling inside. “You two are lovely,” he muttered, his voice laced with awe, “thank you!” Leaning in, he kissed her cheek and then her lips, let the kiss linger for as long as he could, and only drew back a little, when he finally needed air. Her arms around him made him feel warm and protected, and he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “You’ll like them. There are a lot of stories my dad recorded for me, from Pooh to Harry Potter, and there’s a lot of classics there, too.” Happy that it was something they could do together, he reached for the box of tapes and placed them on the coffee table. “We should leave them for last,” he told her gently, “we still have loads to unpack.” But instead of moving, he remained close to her, in the end stealing another kiss with a smile, before he moved away from her and opened another box full of books. “Who would’ve thought we had that many books -” Laughter bubbled up inside of him at the sight of the book on top. “The Kama Sutra?”

---

Ashley had to hand it to him. He had waited an hour and they had managed to get through at least a couple of the boxes before deciding to distract her from the task at hand. There wasn’t any great rush to unpack everything in the one day, and they might as well have a laugh at some of the random items they were about to uncover. “She’s probably in search or a quiet spot to go and lie on top of it. No doubt we’ll find it later on in a random place.” The thought of where that pillow would be ending up now made her laugh, while a part of her cruelly wished it would be used as a chew toy. Max burying his head into her neck made his breath tickle against her skin, and she smiled. “I disagree, you can be sometimes,” she hummed softly, though she didn’t mind his distracting antics at all. It was hard for her not to grin at how excited and happy he was to be reunited with his old audio books. “I can’t remember how we got onto it, but she told me your Dad still had them all in a box so I had her send them.” The relationship she had with her in-laws was better than what she ever could have imagined, that doing something like this for him was so easy and to see his reaction made her heart flutter. “You don’t need to thank me.” His eager kiss took her by surprise and made her laugh. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer and returned the kiss until they were both breathless. “And he reads them all front to back? That’s so lovely.” To think of the amount of time spent into the tapes, and the amount that there were was really incredible. “Later, because look at all of these.” She couldn’t believe the amount of boxes that they had managed to bring with them from the apartment. She sighed disappointedly when he moved away from her to return to the unpacking. “I know. I think we have enough here to start a library…” There was a pile of books in the box she had just opened too. Hearing him burst out laughing, she walked over to investigate and pick the book up. “This looks like one to go on the coffee table and have a flick through don’t you think?” She grinned at him. “How did we end up with a copy of that anyway?”

---

“I disagree with your disagreement, Ash,” he responded teasingly, rather distracted himself, because of her close proximity. Her perfume was tickling his nose, it was the one she wore daily and which he adored, especially, when it still clung to his sweater - or lately his scarf - after she had used it. “I do,” he murmured, his lips splitting into a broad smile, “you don’t even know what that means to me.” Max could still remember how afraid Ashley had been to meet his parents, and how his parents had embraced her fully right away, and had diffused any fear or anxiousness about them right away. Especially with the way they had met, it had to have been a special connection from the start, and nowadays, Max could only marvel at the love and closeness the three exhibited each time they met. “He did, he would read them out loud, while he was reading them himself - especially Harry Potter, although he still says the last three were a bitch to record.” Suddenly laughing at it all, he wrapped an arm around Ashley and kissed her temple, then, still laughing, went back to unpacking. “We have enough room for a library, actually - a few comfy couches, and we’d be set,” he commented, his eyes falling to a particular cover of two people entwined in what could only be called a very bendy sexual position. “On the coffee table? We’d be asked about it every single time,” he snorted, and shook his head at her, “then again, we’d never run out of small talk. As for how it got there - it might be one of my friends? Chris probably, who’s always coming up with these kind of things.” Setting it down next to his audio tapes, he started placing the books neatly on the shelves, then rummaged through other boxes to try and find more books to put up. It took him a while, and he only stopped, when he felt her gaze on him. “Can I help you with something?” he asked her amusedly.

---

“I had a feeling that you might,” Ashley replied with a laugh, but in her eyes she knew that she was right. Although, she equally liked to provide him with the same kind of distractions that he gave her and through him off-guard too, but he was much worse. “But just so you know I don’t mind.” The smile on his face gave her a slight indication of what this meant to him and that alone made her happy. “I’m just glad to reunite you with them.” She told him with a side smile. The image of Jeremy sitting in a room, reading all of these books out loud into a tape machine entered her mind, and it was impossible not to find a bit of joy in the thought. “I still think he’s really nice that he took the time to do this for you, and even sweeter that you still listen to them from time to time.” She mused, “I’ll object to the last three being a bitch to record. Those were the best ones to read.” She smiled up at him lovingly as he wrapped an arm around her, and then pressed his lips against her forehead before moving back to his box. Funnily enough, the box she was opening was full of books too. They could be here for quite some time filling up the bookshelves in their home, “Really? Do you think? I’d love to have a library.” He gave a similar widened eyed expression to the front cover of the book that she had taken hold of. “Which is exactly why we should do it, it could be an inside joke and nobody would know.” When Max brought up his friend she vaguely remembered something about it being a birthday gift for him last year and had hidden it from view ever since. She frowned when he took the book from her grasp before she could have a look through some of of the pictures. She allowed Max to go back to his job and she went back to her and sifting through the rest of her box, and the next - who knew they had so many things? Looking up, she was taken by the sight of Max arranging books on the shelf and all without a ladder too. “I have the best view of your bum from where I’m standing.” She answered him with a broad grin and a laugh, knowing fine well that he would blush at her comment. “I’m just enjoying watching you arrange all of those books. I don’t want to disturb the process.” Then again, she didn’t want to give up her view either.

---

Of course Max knew she didn’t mind, otherwise Ashley would have told him or pushed him away a long time ago- Sometimes, he would do it on purpose, even, just so he would get a reaction from her, and always laughed at her protesting this way, only to give in and tell him that she didn’t feel as negatively about him distracting her. He smiled down at her softly. “I have them as a digital copy on my laptop and my phone, but the originals are very dear to me. They’ll need a special place in our home. And it wasn’t the books, but the length of them that made him miserable. I think they took a lot out of him. And - I never read them, if I’m honest...” He could still remember how he had received a tape a week, sent to their home, when his father was on the go, since he had left boarding school by then and was going to drama school already - it hadn’t mattered to his father that digital recorders had existed by then, and so he had about thirty or forty tapes for the last three books, which were all in the box Ashley had just given him. “We can start with the living room and the bedroom, and if we still have books left, we can think about turning the office into a library.” Their focus turned from tapes and books to one book in particular, and he took the book back from her, before she could leaf through it, because once she started, they would not continue unpacking, he knew that already. “We’ll leave that for our guests to decide, won’t we?” His friends could be the worst, at times, because they didn’t hold back, just like they had given them a huge bouquet of flowers made from condoms for their wedding - mostly as a joke, but it was also a very broad hint in his opinion. He was still thinking about his friends and their oddities, when he turned to look over his shoulder, and smiled at her reply. “Right. The process. That’s all you care about.” For emphasis, he wiggled his bum, but then continued his task, since there were only a few more books left. “What do you think? We still have enough space for various decorations on the shelves.” Max was proud of his handiwork, and especially that most of the boxes on his side were now gone. “Do you need any help?” There were still a few boxes between them and he leaned over one to grasp her arm gently and pull her forward and press a kiss to her lips. “Hi.”

---

By now, she was curious just how many books they had brought with them, and how many belonged to him and how many were her’s. “That sounds like a plan to me.” Ashley hummed in agreement, as much as she loved the idea of having their own library she also valued having an office as a comfortable work space for them both. Max was right to move the book out of her view because the second that she sat down to giggle at it would mean that they would be finished with their work for the day. “So we are putting it on the coffee table?” To see him going along with her joking idea amused her and made her laugh. One guest in particular whose reaction that she was looking forward to seeing at the Kama Sulture being placed on the coffee table was her parents. She was still laughing at the thought when she opened her second box - which had some pillows piled on top and funnily enough, had all sorts of ornaments wrapped in bubble wrap inside. His reaction to her bum comment hadn’t been what she had expected it to be, and was maybe a little disappointed not to see his face turn a familiar shade of red that she had grown particularly fond of. “I’ll have you know it’s a very important process to be sitting and watching.” She protested, laughing as he wiggled his back side and did a little dance for her. “Should we see if we can find some nice ones?” She asked and stepped back to admire his work that judging by the smile on his face. “It looks great!” She nodded her head to his question of her needing help, while he had gotten through almost all his boxes she was still stuck with a small pile. “Teen Choice hottie 2010,” She started to laugh at the old award that she had just uncovered before he pulled her towards him and distracted her again with a kiss. “Hi, you.” She stole another kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can I help you with something?” she teased, repeating the same question he had asked her moments ago.

---

“Until we find a proper place for it, yes, why not? And if your sister or your parents find it first… well, you’ll explain how we got it.” Still highly amused about the book, he went back to work - and only later realised that her comment had not been about sitting and watching, but sitting and watching him, which in turn made him blush long after he had wiggled his bum at her. Such was her power over him, her words alone, suggestive as they might be, were enough to affect him, and leave his skin all flushed and tingly. He loved that about her, and smiled to himself, while he continued putting the books on the shelves. “Don’t we have enough nice ones?” Their old apartment had been full of decorations and little trinkets, which they could set around their new house, if they found them first. At least Ashley had found one, and Max had to snort at the title. “What happened between then and now? Aren’t you hot enough anymore?” he teased her, before their lips met - he didn’t need an award to know that she was hot as hell and then some, and not only to him. But his opinion was what mattered, at least to him, and hopefully to her. Their kisses started sweet and almost innocent, but grew more passionate, as he deepened it, ran his tongue along her plump lips and tongue and didn’t let up until his lungs were basically screaming for air. “I’m not sure you can,” he replied back, a grin forming on his face, “see, luv’, I’m in love with this wonderful, very distracting woman, and I feel like if I give in fully, I might not work on any boxes anymore today.” His little speech didn’t stop him, however, from leaning back in and claiming her mouth, kissing her until the world was swimming around them, and finally biting her lower lip gently, before he let go of her. “So, Hottie, where should we put that award?” Max had no professional accolades to speak of, but that wouldn’t stop him from putting up hers all around the room and their office. Quicker than he had anticipated, the last boxes were empty and stood folded in the corner. “Should we tackle the office, or leave that for tomorrow?” Their bedroom was practically unpacked, apart from a few personal boxes, and the kitchen and bathroom and closet had been arranged by professionals, which made moving so much easier, he realised. Falling back against the couch, Max pulled her with him, so they landed in the comfortable pillows and wrapped his arms around her. “We should order some food… later.”

---

It amused her the things that were being uncovered from the boxes, items that she was sure that she had thrown out a long time ago like the neon coloured lip pillow and this award from years ago. Max’s snorting at her discovery summed up how she felt about it too. “I’m not sure, perhaps I’m not anymore and it only counted for two thousand and ten? I forgot that this even existed.” Ashley replied with a laugh. Her eyes closed when their lips met each other, first in a slow rhythm that built up in intensity and groaned as his tongue ran teasingly alon her bottom lip. By the time that he pulled away they were both gasping for air. She wrapped her arms around him and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Wonderful and distracting? She sounds like a catch. Maybe you should give in fully, you might discover that she won’t mind.” Which was exactly what he did, and leaned into her once more for another sensational kiss, finished off with a playful nip and a Max smirk. “I’m torn between throwing it out and putting it on the bookshelf.” She answered with a chuckle. It didn’t take them long to unpack at least some of the ornaments and begin to display them. “Tomorrow? I’m getting tired of the sight of boxes.” They must have been working for a few hours in total by now, and were in need of some time to themselves. A happy sigh slipped by her when Max pulled her down on the couch and they landed in a heap. This, she realised, was her first chance to really test the comfort of their new sofa. “Agreed. As much as I want to break the new kitchen in, I really don’t feel like trying to cook tonight.” She shifted in his and scooted back so that her body was pressed against his. “This is really comfortable… I could really get used to this.”

---

“You are, to me, you are the hottest woman alive - if there is such a title, you’ve earned it,” Max told her right before their lips met. Kissing her felt like coming alive with happiness and joy, and he smiled into their kiss, when they both deepened it at the same time, tongues meeting halfway for an increasingly passionate dance. It took him a moment to recover, to regulate his breathing and rapidly beating heart - it was funny how she could turn him into a lovestruck teenager so easily and he could never quite help himself. “Oh, I know she won’t mind, although she keeps telling me I’m very distracting, myself.” If there was something he was really good at, too, it was distracting Ashley from whatever she was doing at the moment, be it with a kiss like now, or just by teasing her with a touch or comments until she gave in. “Give it to your mum, she’ll happily keep it for you...” Out of breath, he still went in for another kiss and another, breathing her in between them, her scent so fully engulfing him - just the way he liked it. It was hard to part after, but they still went on to finish clearing out the boxes in their living room, and that was an accomplishment in and by itself. The new couch was wonderfully comfortable underneath his tense muscles and he instantly began relaxing into it, especially with Ashley draped across his body, too. Folding an arm behind his head, Max looked at her with a grin. “The first breaking in we have to do with that kitchen will have nothing to do with cooking…” His grin widened to the point of it being ear-splitting, almost, and he reached up to cup her cheek. Preparing their own food in their new kitchen would have to wait another day, and he didn’t mind one bit. “Yes? Me too, this is really all I need - you, a nice place to rest, food, eventually...” he muttered, suddenly hit by a wave of exhaustion, which he fought for a second only, before giving in and reaching blindly for a blanket to wrap them up in. “Nap first? We’ve earned it.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he made sure she wouldn’t be able to slide off his body by wrapping his arm around her, and then drifted off with the thought in mind that they had now opened yet another, great chapter of their life together.

#para #out of the box #ashley

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agilenano · 4 years

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Agilenano - News: The Right Way To Move: 28 Tips to Save Money and Reduce Stress

Being a new homebuyer is full of excitement. You’ve found your ideal home and negotiated the price. Now it’s time to think about moving in. Since the average moving cost can range anywhere between $2,300 to $4,300, the process deserves some serious cost analysis. After all, you’d rather spend that money on new furnishings and home improvements, right? Are there ways to cut costs when moving and settling into your new home? To find out, we consulted official governmental data and talked with real estate agent Ann Hoke, a No. 1-ranked producer in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, and real estate agent Virginia Gergoff, an associate of HomeLight condo specialist Kymber Lovett-Menkiti in Washington, D.C. Consider these 28 ways to save money before, during, and after your move. Source: (Skitterphoto / Pexels)How to save money before and during your move Be smart about your moving strategy to keep from overspending. 1. Plan ahead When people get in a rush, they tend to spend more money than they would have otherwise. Planning your move weeks or even months beforehand will not only help you reduce stress but can also help you save money. For example, is there a friend or relative who may let you store boxes of non-essential items in their garage for a few weeks? Could you ship some of your books using the media rate at the post office? Are there friends who could help with the heavy lifting? Planning ahead can help you creatively save money during your move. 2. Do your research The American Moving and Storage Association recommends getting at least three quotes for moving services. In order to ensure you’re getting a good deal, make sure the quotes are “apples to apples,” meaning each company is charging for the same services. But beware — if you see a quote that’s significantly lower than the others, that could mean the company forgot to include a major line item, and you could end up paying add-on costs later. “Choose a moving company that offers a fixed estimate,” Gergoff says. That way, you know exactly what you’ll be paying and can budget accordingly. 3. Ask for a deal Because most people move on the weekends and at the change of a month, sometimes moving companies will offer deals if you move mid-week or mid-month. Whether you plan to hire movers or rent a moving truck, it never hurts to ask for a discount, especially if your schedule can be flexible. Source: (Stokkete / Shutterstock)4. Use coupons wisely Hunt for moving coupons on sites like Groupon and RetailMeNot where you can find discounts on supplies, trucks, and moving companies. Savings up to 50% off can really help slim down your moving expenses! In addition, when you go to the post office to change your address, you may receive a packet full of coupons that can help during and after your move. Home improvement stores are often a part of this initiative with rare, total-purchase coupons. Be sure to make a comprehensive list of everything you need, since the coupons usually are single-use only. For your current place, don’t forget things that you may need for repairs, such as caulk, putty, and Magic Erasers. For your new place, you may want to stock up on picture hangers, cleaners, towel hooks, and a new welcome mat. 5. Take only what you need As Hoke says, “Less is better. So get rid of it!” A thorough purge of goods will help save money by reducing the labor and space necessary to move. Haven’t used that treadmill in years? Pass it on to a friend. Won’t need a lawnmower at your new place? Sell it. Moving to a warmer climate? Donate your winter wardrobe. Bottom line: Don’t pay to move things you won’t use. 6. Move incrementally If possible, have your real estate agent schedule your closing prior to the date you have to leave your current residence. Not only will you save yourself a lot of logistical stress, you’ll also save money. Moving multiple carloads of boxes over time would allow you to rent a smaller truck, which could mean a 25% to 50% savings, depending upon size. You may also get a better deal on moving services since there would only be large furniture items left. 7. Get creative with packing supplies Packing supplies for a three-to-four-bedroom house can cost around $264, but there are many ways that you can reduce or even eliminate that cost. Start gathering boxes from local businesses a few weeks before your move. Grocery stores, liquor stores, and dollar stores tend to be more accommodating and have better quality boxes than big box stores. Often if you call ahead, managers will set aside boxes for you on delivery days. You can also watch social media sites to get boxes from people who have recently moved. Many times people will post “curb alerts” after they’ve unpacked their things. To avoid paying for bubble wrap and garment boxes, Hoke recommends using towels as packing material and trash bags around hanging items. Simply slide clothing into the bag and tie a knot at the hook of the hangers. Source: (Crystal de Passillé-Chabot / Unsplash)8. Don’t overspend on cleaning supplies When you move, you’ll want to have plenty of cleaning supplies for both your current residence and your new home. You’ve likely got what you need to move out and leave the place “broom clean.” But your new home is going to need the white-glove treatment. Consider saving both time and money by pre-ordering supplies from places like Costco, BJ’s, or Amazon and having them shipped to your new address. 9. Consider shipping containers instead of movers “Moving companies are expensive,” Hoke says. Instead, she recommends moving containers, if your schedule and physical ability allows. For a complete rundown of the major moving container companies nationwide, visit our Pod Squad guide. 10. Take expensive fixtures with you Gergoff says, “Bring fixtures from the old house that you may be able to use in the new house.” If you’ve put in expensive faucets or chandeliers, consider switching them out to more standard versions before you sell your home. Your buyers may not even like the fixtures, so you might as well save money on your own upgrades at the new house! Just be sure to make the changes before the listing photos, so that buyers know exactly what they’re getting. 11. Practice intentional meal-planning With all the pressures of moving, who has the time or energy to cook? While it’s tempting to outsource cooking to the pros, eating at restaurants during a move can end up busting your budget if you’re not careful. Instead, plan out the meals you’ll need before your move. Don’t forget to incorporate all perishables in your fridge and freezer, and use up pantry items too, if possible. You don’t want to box up a bunch of cans, and you definitely don’t want to throw away pounds of frozen chicken! Meal planning during a move may require some creativity and flexibility (frozen waffles for dinner, anyone?), but the cost savings are significant. If there comes a time during your move when you simply can’t cook, be smart about your restaurant choices. Order take-out to save on the cost of drinks and tips. Use coupons or take advantage of local promotions like “kids eat free” nights. Thinking strategically can go a long way toward protecting your bottom line — and your waistline! Source: (Annie Gray / Unsplash)How to save money after you move in Simple maintenance and proactive energy measures can make a big difference. 12. Get an energy audit An energy audit is a service conducted by a professional that’s designed to identify areas of energy loss throughout the home. Energy auditors use specialized equipment to determine if there are places where energy is leaking out of the home, and they will make recommendations for conserving energy based upon usage habits. Implementing the directives of an energy audit can save homeowners between 5% and 30% on their energy bills annually. A home energy audit costs $408 on average but can vary greatly depending upon square footage. However, in some areas, your electricity provider will offer free energy audits as an initiative to optimize energy usage throughout the service area. Check with your provider before paying a third-party source. 13. Wait to make renovations Gergoff tells all her clients to wait at least six months before making major changes to their new homes. “Live in the house a little bit before you decide what to do,” she says. You may end up liking a feature you thought you wouldn’t, or you may have a different idea that would increase efficiency, build more equity, or improve your quality of life in your new home. 14. Lower the temperature on your water heater The U.S. Department of Energy advises homeowners to turn their water heater thermostat down to 120 degrees from the typical 140 degrees set by the manufacturer. According to their calculations, this simple change could save between $36 to $61 per year, and more than $400 in demand loss. That’s a savings of between 4% and 22% on your energy bill, depending upon hot water usage. Plus, turning down the heat could help prevent scalding! 15. Insulate your pipes Pipe insulation is another easy way to save money on energy bills. Thirty-six linear feet of pipe insulation costs around $24, and insulating 1” hot water pipes can save between $2 and $4 per linear foot per year. Pipe insulation pays for itself in less than a year! Plus, you get the added benefit of shielding your pipes from extreme temperatures. No pipe insulation claims a complete guarantee against frozen pipes, but because insulation helps regulate the interior water temperature, it can help prevent freezing. Source: (Kazuky Akayashi / Unsplash)16. Check for leaks at the sinks Take a peek under the sinks. Any water or moisture below the drain pipes can cause damage to the cabinetry over time and may lead to mold growth. Hiring a plumber at the first sign of a problem will save you money later. Similarly, keep an eye on the faucets. Disregard a leaky faucet for too long and you may wash between $20 and $200 dollars down the drain per year. 17. Upgrade your thermostat Smart thermostats adjust the interior temperature according to the daily schedule of the home. When the house is empty, you can raise the thermostat by 7 to 10 degrees during summer months and lower it 10 degrees during winter months. Other factors aside, those temperature modifications could end up saving you between 10% and 15% on your energy bill. 18. Shop secondhand Big-ticket items such as dining tables, lawnmowers, bed frames, patio furniture, and entertainment centers can often be found at deep discounts if you purchase them used. Browse local direct-by-owner sales sites such as Craigslist or Facebook Marketplace to find savings up to 90% off list price, according to Gergoff. 19. Check your attic insulation Hopefully, your home inspector checked for insulation prior to purchase, but did they check the quality of the insulation? Insulation is measured in terms of thermal resistance, or R-values. Higher R-values equal greater insulating effectiveness. Consult your local insulation professional regarding the recommended R-values for your area, or consult this zone chart from the U.S. Department of Energy. Improving your attic insulation could save up to 15% on heating and cooling costs, or 11% on overall energy usage. 20. Shop local Often local hardware shops will offer discounts to their community members, so you may be able to get a better price than you would at big-box home improvement stores. Also, many local shops run free weekend seminars that will teach you how to do repairs and upgrades yourself. Learning to put in your own shed, backsplash, or landscaping could save hundreds of dollars. Source: (Anthony Rooke / Unsplash)21. Install ceiling fans The Department of Energy says, “Ventilation is the least expensive and most energy-efficient way to cool a home.” Installing ceiling fans creates circulation in a room, which helps occupants feel cooler at higher temperatures. Don’t forget to turn the fan off when leaving a room, though. A fan makes people more comfortable, but it cannot lower room temperatures. 22. Replace your air filters The Department of Energy also says that replacing the air filters in your home can lower the energy consumption of your heating and cooling system by up to 15%. Considering that the HVAC system accounts for around 45% of the average household’s energy bill, reducing consumption is a big deal! Filters last between 1 to 6 months, depending upon the material type used. Check your filter near the end of its lifespan, and replace accordingly. And don’t forget to clean your vents regularly, too! 23. Implement a hang-to-dry laundry system An average load of laundry costs between 36 cents and 45 cents to run in the dryer, assuming approximately 40 to 45 minutes of drying time. That may not sound like a lot, but over time, that electricity adds up. If you run five loads per week, that’s up to $2.25 per week or $117 per year. Instead, consider hanging up your damp laundry whenever possible. Line drying in your laundry room may work well in cold months, if you have the space. Setting up a clothesline outside is even better. That way, you won’t have to consider any increased humidity risks, such as mold and mildew. 24. Change your lightbulbs LED lightbulbs may have a more expensive tag on the shelf, but over time, those LED bulbs add up to big savings. Lower energy usage and a longer lifespan mean that switching from an incandescent lightbulb to an LED lightbulb can save $61.55 over ten years. Replace all the bulbs in your new home and rack up some serious savings! 25. Upgrade to energy-efficient appliances Appliances with the blue Energy Star label are certified to reduce energy consumption and emissions. Certain Energy Star appliances have a greater impact than others. For example, an energy-efficient dishwasher might only save you about $2 a year. However, replacing a clothes washer can save around $40 per year and $415 over its lifespan. For more on energy cost savings, check out this Energy Star consumer guide. Source: (Jan Huber / Unsplash)26. Plant shade trees Shade trees are not only pleasant for outdoor activities, they’re also essential for keeping utility costs down. Trees planted on the west and south sides of a house can save around $25 per year in cooling costs, depending upon the climate, and can also reduce carbon emissions by 30% over time. Check with your local nursery or consult the USDA growing zones to find the shade tree that’s best for your yard. Give trees 1,600 square feet (40’ x 40’) to grow, in order to protect your foundation, landscaping, and driveway from being damaged by roots. 27. Seal up doors, windows, and other openings Add up all the little sources of air loss around a home, and you may be looking at the equivalent of a hole fourteen inches wide. Use weather stripping around doors and windows to keep drafts under control. Seal up outlets, light fixtures, laundry dampers, and other gaps in building materials with caulk. Check for any malfunction at the fireplace damper. And make sure the basement and attic entrances are as insulated as possible. 28. Mark any cracks Some small cracks in basement walls, foundations, patios, and even drywall are common as homes settle and flex. However, growing cracks could indicate a problem with the foundation, which can lead to significant expenses. Use painter’s tape to mark any cracks you may find now. In a few months, reexamine the area to see if the cracks have spread beyond the tape. Moving and settling into your home is a big undertaking. Intentional money-saving choices now can add up to big savings over time. And that’s good news! Because as a new homebuyer, those savings can be well-spent turning your house into a home. Header Image Source: (Burst / Pexels) #Buyers #GettingAcclimated #Homeownership

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valkirsif · 5 years

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Follow you CH 4/???

For my sweety @youaremyfavouritepizzaplace big hug honey

Painter Steve Rogers x Bailarina Natasha Romanov

Word: 2900

Warnig: Fluff, Angst

STEVE

Steve finished the work he was carrying out and began preparations for departure, made all the necessary documents and left the keys to his apartment in Sara

"Hey don't destroy my house while I'm away" laughed, hugging her, "I'll come as many times as I can, not to mention that once I finish school I'll come back here, this is my house"

"Quiet Brooklin boy no exaggerated parties, nothing piled up ... I will treat her well" laughed the woman in turn, "You only think about studying and your dancer .. have you already thought about how to tell her everything?"

“I tried the other night but by phone it seems so wrong, I'll tell you about it tonight or tomorrow" he replied tense, would have reached Natasha in the evening and was thinking about how to face the speech in the best way without risking losing it, finished packing up that they would leave for San Diego with the movers, with if he would bring only a bag for a few days and his suit for the theater, looked at his house one last time, already missed it, greeted Sara and went up on the taxy.

Checked in at the airport and waited for flight,

"I'm going to leave," said cheerfully on the phone, "Of course I'll arrive for dinner, I miss you so much I can't wait to be with you", Natasha was as impatient as he was to be together, "Where did we meet?" the address of the woman's hotel on the agenda and moved to the gate, they had just called her flight, "See you soon, I love you" said greeting her and turning off the phone as soon as he sat down, the journey was quiet and in less than two hours landed, went to the baggage claim he was about to take his suitcase when a pinkish red flash caught his attention, had just time to turn around and Natasha threw herself into his arms smiling and beautiful.

NATASHA

The first had gone very well, the public had been enthralled by Natasha and the rest of the company, their agent had extended the evenings for 4 more shows to give everyone the chance to see him, the woman was excited and happy for that opportunity every night. of admirers of all ages waited for her and her colleagues outside the theater with flowers and gifts, Natasha loved the warmth of the audience, every night before going to bed she and Steve felt, the night before seemed to her that the man was anxious but did not ask him the reason he probably had a lot of work and sometimes felt guilty about those calls late at night but they would see each other in a few hours and was happy to spend some time with him, got up early to organize the perfect evening, had two days off and wanted to spend them alone with him, the boutique had given her the new dress in the morning, just below the knee, bright green in perfect 50s style, sure that Steve would go priced, the restaurant reservation was confirmed and the car booked, before leaving to go to the airport had secured all the privacy wanted by changing hotel, greeted Serlina and left.

Called the man on his way downtown

"My love, have you already left home?" asked cheerfully, "Will you make it for 7? I booked in an intimate place" said "I'm in the Four Seasons in the center I'll wait for you there" greeted him, hearing the announcement of his flight, the car left her in front of the hotel the woman went up, put the new dress in the closet and arranged the things before going out, would have made a surprise to Steve waiting for him at the terminal, arrived at the airport and looked around, the billboard marked the flight as landed and turned around the terminal looking for him, when found joy took over and ran to threw her arms around his neck.

§§§§§§§

They stood looking at each other for a few minutes smiling, nobody noticed them in the terminal, other couples were greeting each other,

"Tasha you are beautiful, let yourself be watched" said the man taking her face in his hands and getting lost in his eyes, "I missed you so much princess" hugged her to his chest and kissed,

"Steve I missed you too" she replied, melting into his arms, "Let's go to the hotel so you leave your suitcase and go to dinner, I want to take you to my favorite restaurant" said, moving away from him and taking his hand, the man retrieved luggage and followed her to the taxy stand.

20 minutes later they went down in front of the hotel, went up to the room Steve put the suitcase beside the bed and took the woman in his arms, untying her dress,

"What time did you book?" He asked, slipping off the dress that slid to the floor.

"There is time" replied Natasha kissing him, "We have all the time in the world my love", both were burning, not seen for a week and the passion took over, they made love getting lost in each other as if the time did not exist, they lay in bed, flirting like boys, Steve kept touching the woman's face and staring at her, she was beautifully disheveled with bright eyes, her body soft and naked leaning on him

"I have to talk to you about something" he began hesitantly, "I wanted to wait but I don't want to ruin these days", the woman leaned on her elbow and stared at his serious face,

"I listen to you Steve" replied with heart in her throat,

"When you left I received a call from San Diego," he began, "I was actually hoping they would call me, the Art Academy accepted me," waited a moment for her to understand what he was saying, "Before it became official between us that phone call would have filled me with joy, now I don't know .. " concluded sighing, Natasha looked at him for a second and smiled,

"I also have to talk to you about something," she said, intertwining his fingers, "On the morning of the departure I learned that my company got a contract for a six-month tour around the country and at the end of the season six months in Europe..” she concluded, the two remained silent for a few minutes

"Steve ... have you decided to go to San Diego?" Asked the woman,

"Yes, it has always been my dream to study at SDAI although I admit that for a second I was about to give up, our story has just been born and it will be really difficult if we are so far away ..."

"I don't know what you think but I don't want to give up on you, I say try and see how things are going, certain occasions happen once in a lifetime as well as certain loves," she said seriously,

"I believe it too, we can handle everything," Steve said, both of them were trying to convince themselves that it would be easy knowing that the truth was another,

"Love shower and dinner?" The woman asked, "I booked for 7am" laughed as she stood up and reached out to invite him to follow her. Steve laughed and joined her in the bathroom, took a slow shower and prepared to leave,

"Princess this dress looks great on you," whispered, pulling up her zipper, "I almost regret going out you are so beautiful that I would like to keep you just for me," the woman turned and smiled and kissed him,

"You're not too bad, but I confess that I prefer you with a work uniform, the stained suit you had when you pulled me back made me warm every time I went into your house," she laughed as adjusted his tie, the woman replied to the room phone ringing,

"The car is waiting for us," said, taking his hand, left cell phone in the room, picked up purse and left.

The restaurant was in the outskirts the woman had discovered it a few nights earlier after the show, it was not a luxury and pretentious place but if she had fallen in love he had immediately reminded her of the Parrot where he met Steve, a waitress on skates welcomed them,

"Miss Natasha, well come, your table is ready, follow me," he led them smiling to a colored screen and left the menu and returned to his position to accompany other customers to their table.

"Tasha is beautiful," Steve said putting some coins in the juke box on the table, "I expect to see Sara appear with dinner," he laughed,

"I knew you would have liked it, I think I chose it because it reminds me of our meeting," she replied, blushing, the man took her hand, thinking back to that evening, they ordered food and while they waited Steve invited her to dance, they laughed heartily on the track, was fascinated by the movements of the woman, drew her to him if for a slow Natasha clung to him happily, they returned to the table when they saw the waitress with the drinking tray, toasted and they shared a plate of chips, a little girl approached shyly the couple looked at her,

"I liked the show so much yesterday," said the little girl who seemed to be 10 years old or so, "I ... I ... sign the shoes, please?" she asked, blushing, pulling a pair of worn-out yellow dance shoes out of his backpack ,

"Thanks baby" Natasha smiled, "Are you a dancer too? I like the yellow” she took the felt-tip pen that the little girl was holding out to her and the shoes,

"What's your name?" asked looking at her

"Beatrice" replied happily, Natasha autographed the side with her delicate writing and returned everything to her little fan who turned happily towards her mother,

"Thank you," said the woman, "we have come to dinner here in the last few days hoping to see her, Bea is a great admirer of her"

"It was a pleasure," said Natasha, smiling at Bea, "She goes on studying small," mother and daughter returned to their table Steve laughed seeing the joy of the little girl who continued to admire her shoes, "Sorry to interrupt, ignore a certain type of admirers is easy but I cannot fail when it comes to a colleague" the woman laughed

"Mmm do you often bother them?" He asked curiously, trying to mask a bit of jealousy

"Only out of the theater, jealous?"

"I'm afraid so," he laughed, "Hard not to be, you're so beautiful tonight, but you're always so beautiful in a jumpsuit and overalls," he said caressing her face, the woman closed her eyes and leaned against his palm

"Oh Steve, I feel complete and perfect when I'm with you," she said softly, the waitress arriving with dinner

"Wow they look great" said Steve admiring the tray of hamburgers and chips they had in front of him, "High class 50s" laughed pouring mustard on the potatoes, the couple had a good dinner the man was always amazed to see her eating, it was so thin that he wondered where he put the food, the sandwiches were delicious and, not at all satiated, they ordered two more,

"Would you like a dessert?" Asked the maid as she cleared it,

"For me, no thanks, I'm satisfied," Natasha said

"Even I pass, I take a coffee thanks", the evening was warm and pleasant they took a walk and stopped in front of a bowling alley,

"Would you like to do a couple of jumps princess?" Steve asked, dragging her into the room, the woman followed him, laughing,

"Why not it's a bit that I don't play ... you will give me an advantage for cavalry, right?" she laughed as tied her hair, the man took the shoes for both and they headed for the assigned track, Natasha changed the ball a couple of times, they were all too heavy for her and she resigned herself to using that for children Steve didn't miss the chance to make fun of her,

"I thought the dancers were much stronger," he laughed, kissing her,

"And we are but not in our arms, the important thing is that the dancer has strong arms, but I can break the nuts with the calves" she replied making him a tongue, the man took her in his arms and kissed her laughing, the game ended with the victory of the woman for a few points, Natasha suspected that Steve had made her win and found the tender thing, to thank him for his kindness took a couple of slices of cake and chocolate with cream, finished the cake and called the car for back to the hotel.

Natasha clung to the man as soon as got in the car and fell asleep Steve took off his jacket and covered it thinking about the wonderful day that they had just passed the future of their story was uncertain but at that moment he really understood to love her and he would do anything to stay with her, they reached the hotel and went up to their room,

"Sorry if I fell asleep in the car," the woman said, taking off her shoes, "The evening was a wonderful perfect ending after a heavy week, I counted the days since we heard," she smiled, untangling her tail, Steve approached caressing her hair,

"Princess did not need to go out, we could have stayed here to relax in bed," he replied, kissing her, "I would not have objected to having your body on you all night,"

the woman laughed dragging him towards the bed,

"Nice program, we can start now, though," she mewed, lying on top of him and blinking,

"But you were not tired princess?" He provoked her by stroking her back, they looked lost in each other's eyes before kissing, they spent most of the night making love fell asleep almost at dawn, Steve was the first to wake up and was enchanted by watching Natasha still asleep, her matted hair lit by the sun looked like a halo, he wanted to portray her again, not being able to do so he turned slowly so as not to wake her and took his cell phone to take a picture of her, the woman moved, feeling a click,

"Good morning, love," she said, still semi asleep, "Did you start taking pictures of me while I sleep?" asked with a smile,

"Sorry you were so beautiful with the reflection of the sun that I wanted to take you one to always carry with me," the man replied, showing her the shot, Natasha moved towards him to kiss,

"Is beautiful, you have an exceptional eye for these things," said leaning against his chest, "Will you make a picture of it?"

"I think so, it will be like having you with me while I study ..." he replied "I honestly would be almost tempted to give up the SDAI .." said sincerely, the woman sat up staring at him,

"You're not serious, Steve," she said, altered, "It's your dream you can't give up for ... for me ... I won't let you," the man looked at her in amazement and didn't expect a similar reaction.

"Tasha .. I don't want to give it up," said calmly, "I say I thought about it, you realize that if all goes well we'll see each other once a month ... maybe less .." took her face in his hands, ". .your job is going to take you around the world and I'm afraid .. "

"Afraid of what?" She asked, giving her a smile,

"Well, afraid of losing you, afraid you could find something else ..." he confessed, feeling like a complete idiot, Natasha burst into laughter,

"Steve nothing and no one could take me away from you, just the dance .. and maybe not even that .. I could give up if you asked me", she said discovering her card, no one had ever made her falter on her life choices like he,

"Princess I would never ask you for such a thing, it would be like you asking me to stop painting" he squeezed her, "It was all sudden, too much and all together, you were my painter's dream for a very long time, you appeared like a dream and I'm in love with you and while I was dealing with my feelings, he called me the SDAI .. " he said seriously," ..I think it's the same for you "

"I had promised myself not to let a man make me falter, my last boyfriend could not withstand the rhythms dictated by my work and did everything to make me change then you came from nothing, with that stupid idea of the portrait and there I fell in love with you with all the shoes and now the tour .. " she concluded again tightly to him, they were laced lost in their thoughts trying to figure out how to make things work.

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