#so Porsche is like hey what if we get you drunk

[the-cookie-of-doom]

"I don't want to talk about this." Kim doesn't have anyone he can talk to about this.

Porsche takes three shot glasses out from behinds the bar and lines them up. Fills each. "Drink," he orders.

Kim side-eyes the glasses. Looks around the bar; near-empty at this hour.

He drinks, one after the other. It burns going down.

"I'm still not talking about it," he says.

"I know." Porsche pulls a single shot for himself. Kim admires his restraint. Then again, only one of them can afford to get laid out, and Porsche has decided it's going to be Kim.

Kim taps one of the glasses, and Porsche obliges him with two more pours. By the time he sets the second face down on the bar top, he feels it. Warmth in his face and cotton in his head. He can convince himself he's barely tipsy, so long as he doesn't move his head, because then the earth tips out from under him. Tipsy.

"Ready to talk about it?"

"Ask me."

"Are you trying to sleep with my baby brother?"

Kim hums. Shakes his head. Regrets it. "Nope, not ready."

Porsche whistles, impressed, and pours another shot.

"You're going to be so fucked up tomorrow."

The six shots Kim sucked down slam him twenty minutes later. He should have expected it; Porsche probably did, and that's why he's laughing at Kim now, snapping pictures of him slumped over the bar and moaning in misery, offering no comfort. It was Porsche's idea to get him loose-lipped with truth serum in the form of alcohol, but Kim let him do it, so it was his fault, really.

Once Porsche has gotten enough blackmail material to last a lifetime, he closes up the bar, then drags Kim over to a booth so they can talk.

"So. Porchay."

"Porchay," Kim agrees, a lyrical slur into his arms.

"You wanna tell me what's going on there?"

"I like him s'much. He's so, so-mmm, good, he's good, and nice, and..." Kim trails off, mumbling something incoherent. "Kissed him."

"What?"

"I kissed him. On his face. I missed. He smells s'good. I wanna kiss 'im again."

Porsche laughs. "Are you trying to sleep with him?"

"Mmmno. Maybe?" Kim tries to push himself upright, and only manages to slump enough enough that he can side-eye Porsche as he says, "Dunno how."

"What?"

"Are you gonna be mad?"

"Probably not. What do you mean, you don't know how?" Kim makes a miserable sound. His eyes are fever-bright, and his cheeks are flushed, and Porsche is pretty sure it's not just from the alcohol. Kim buries his face back in his arms to hide. "Kim, are you-?"

"No." He waves a hand at Porsche. "Kinda."

"Kinda."

"You know."

Porsche does know, but he a mean part of him wants to make Kim say it, because he's an asshole, and bullying little brothers is what he does. He's definitely not going to bully Chay about this, his poor brother would die. So he can harass his own boyfriend's younger brother instead. He relents, though, because Kim looks all kinds of pitiful and sad when he next surfaces from the sanctuary of his arms. Scratch that, he looks distressed.

"I think I want to, I do, I want it - but I haven't - and Chay - I don't want to - what if I'm not-"

"Take a deep breath, kiddo." Kim does. "What, you're afraid of disappointing him?" A small nod, and Kim looks so young, and nervous, that it pulls at Porsche's heart. "Aww. You couldn't."

"Yuh-huh," Kim mumbles.

"Nah. Trust me. That kid is so gone on you." This makes Kim smile. Bright and beautiful and bigger than Porsche has ever seen. In person, at least.

"I love him so much."

"Yeah?" Porsche knows for a fact that Kim has not told Chay as much. He already knows how smitten Kim is, and has for a while - it's why they're having this conversation at all, because Kim is over his head in love, and doesn't know what to do about it, and God forbid he talk about it sober - but the confirmation is nice to hear.

"I gotta - gotta tell him." Kim squirms around until he successfully gets his phone out of his pocket, pushing at the buttons on his lock screen in an unsuccessful attempt to open it. Porsche careful reaches across and take it from him.

"Hey, no, absolutely not. The first time Chay hears that from you is not going to be in the middle of your drunken ranting. He deserves better than that."

Doesn't mean he won't want to know about it later, though, which is why Porsche has had his phone on and recording this entire exchange. He'll save it for their wedding.

"I'll write him a song," Kim declares. "I'll write so many songs, a whole album. all about him, I'll-I'll-" He seemingly loses his train of thought, patting around the table like he's looking for something. Probably a pen. Porsche helpfully hands him one, and Kim latches onto it, scribbling lyrics into a napkin. Porsche can't wait to see what he comes up with later.

"Why haven't you talked to him?" Porsche gently prompts, interrupting his creative flow. He's pretty sure whatever lyrics Kim is coming up with right now are nonsensical anyway.

"Afraid."

"Oh what? Of him rejecting you? Because that's impossible."

Kim shakes his head, looks like he's about to throw up, manages not to. "The other thing."

"What other thing?"

"Him wanting me." Except Chay does want Kim, and Kim has to know it. He's not blind. Porsche tells him as much, and Kim shakes his head, says, "He thinks so, because he doesn't have me. But if he does, and he doesn't want me anymore, because I don't, I don't..."

Porsche thinks Kim might say, I don't know how to be loved, and it breaks his heart. He slides around the booth so he can pull Kim into his side, and tries not to react when Kim bursts into tears. He didn't know Kim knew how to cry.

"Chay's so good, he's everything, and I'm not, I'm not, I don't-"

"Hey, hey, stop that. Calm down, it's okay, you're okay. Come on, what's all this?" Porsche ruffles his hair and laughs. "You're Wik! You're Khimhan Theerapanyakul.

Kim wheezes, "Not good," and Porsche crushes him in a one-armed hug that Kim doesn't even try to fight.

"Good enough for my little brother. Kay? Trust me, I'm the expert, and I'm giving you my blessing. So pull yourself together."

"Nnng?"

"Yeah, idiot, I'm giving you my permission to defile Chay."

"I wanna hold his hand and kiss his cheek and take him on a date. A real date. Imma get him flowers. What kind of flowers does he like?"

"He's allergic."

"Oh."

"But you can still do the other stuff."

"Oh." Another brilliant smile. "Yay."

"But before that..." Porsche waits for Kim to put it together, but he doesn't, blinking up at Porsche with his big brown eyes and waiting for direction. Porsche finishes the thought. "You have to talk to him first."

"Oh. Not yay."

"Hey, at least you already know what the answer's gonna be." Porsche cuffs his shoulder. "Do it for Chay, so you can have all that filthy hand-holding and cheek kisses and dates."

-

The next day greets Kim with the worst hangover he's had in his life, his body violently rejecting every ounce of alcohol he forced into it. When he can stop throwing up long enough to string together a coherent thought, he texts Porsche to inform him he's the worst person alive, his ideas are horrible, Kim is never trusting him again, and he's going to kill him the next time he sees him, just for good measure. His body hurts in ways he didn't know were possible, and it's Porsche's fault, and vengeance will be had. Just as soon as he can walk again.

Drink plenty of fluids! Porsche cheerfully replies. And don't forget to talk to Chay. Or else I'm sending him the video of you last night.

Well.

Fuck.

[snickerdoodlles]

Trick or treat!🎃🍫

since you were interested in Vegas youtube fic, a lil snip from that! :D

“I’m so glad my Pete left the last guy for you,” Grandma tells Vegas happily.

Vegas narrows in on all the wrong parts of that sentence. “Last guy?” he demands.

“Last guy?” Pete echoes, baffled. He certainly doesn’t remember introducing Grandma to any guys. There weren’t even any guys to introduce, unless he counts that one time he and Ken pretended to be a couple to get free cake when they were on Kim’s duty or all the times Porsche got flirty-drunk. What guy?

“Oh, you know,” Grandma says with an impatient wave and a raspberry, “that nice one on the phone who took you on vacation before you quit.”

Pete and Vegas carefully don’t look at each other. Macau’s eyes swivel between them, looking increasingly baffled but too scared to ask, and Pete carefully doesn’t look at him either. He looks at Grandma, who’s mashing taro without a care in the world.

“…Ah,” Pete says. It’s the best he can manage in the circumstances.

“Right. Him,” Vegas says casually, in that strange way where he can refer to his personas like they’re their own people. His eyes dart between Pete and Grandma, biting the inside of his cheek for a flashing second before another one of his masks slips into place. “You didn’t like him?”

Grandma scrunches her nose and Pete watches more filters fall over Vegas’s eyes. “He was so…nice.”

All of Vegas’s masks crack and crash as he blinks at Grandma and her derision. Grandma scoffs.

“What’s my Pete going to do with a nice boy?” Grandma tuts and pats Vegas’s cheek. “No, you’re much better. You actually have personality.”

She nods decisively and turns back to their food preparation, oblivious to Vegas’s wet-eyed look of awe. Pete feels something inside him ease as he watches Vegas try and fail to bite back a fragile smile and a lot of teary feelings before he walks over to Macau and his camera.

“Hey—!” Macau protests as Pete stops and deletes the recording. He visibly bites back his first two (likely loud) shouts and gives Pete a look of utter frustration.

Pete smiles his Young Master Smile and shuts the camera off. “We have other recordings. This one’s just for us.”

[returning-spring]

KPTS rec list #2

Check out the 1st rec list here!

A lot of VegasPete recs, but also rarepairs, gen fic, and some KimChay and KinnPorsche! Note: I read many of these fics months ago, so I can’t give any content warnings that aren’t already on AO3. Curate your experience and have fun!

VegasPete

the sea like the sky on a sunny day; swimming as soaring above the world (T rated) by littlelamblittlelamb

Vegas knew it would happen. Pete’s home town is on an island — it is sun and beaches and food that has Vegas schooling his features and reaching for a glass of water. Vegas knew it was only a matter of time before Pete’s grandmother saw his handiwork. -- During a trip to Pete's island hometown, Pete's grandparents see the scars on Pete's chest.

The Tension Between (E rated) by @wedielike

Pete's a good fighter. Vegas knew that. He didn't know just how hot it would be for Pete to kick his ass, but it is. It very much is.

An Interlude in the Space Between Light and Shadow (M rated) by lewdhandholding

One of Kinn’s guards is a step ahead of Vegas’s attempt to flee the diamond auction venue, so Vegas decides to indulge his anger and frustration for a moment. After all, Pete makes such a perfect little chew toy. It might make Vegas feel a little better if he can get him to squeak.

Overcome (M rated) by @dual-desires

"Vegas, you're scaring me." Funny how those words, spoken in a different context, would've had Vegas' chest clamp up like a vice. But as it were, they merely made him curse his own inability to keep his mouth shut. — Vegas lets some of his darker thoughts slip out. Pete confronts him about it.

when he comes (E rated) by Anonymous

“Hm,” again. Vegas has stopped twisting, but he hasn’t let go, still tugging idly, crouched over Pete like a predatory bird. The pain is cold and strange and Pete thinks his dick might be leaking. “I want to eat you,” Vegas says absently. “Cut you open and eat you. How did that feel?”

changing the old gauze (E rated) by Anonymous

After Macau leaves the hospital room, Vegas and Pete settle into their first real moment alone since they came to an understanding about where they stand.

It's There for the Asking (M rated) by @minorfamilysupremacy

A drunk Pete gets philosophical.

All of It (E rated) by @ghost--houses

"I can't believe I fucking did that," Vegas says. "That was so fucking stupid." (in which the knifeplay does not go according to plan, but they get through it)

KimChay

deep in this sleeplessness (E rated) by @bisexualbard-writes

“Kim.” Chay keeps repeating, and hearing his name from those lips still makes something flutter in his chest, even after all these months. “Are you saying we could have been getting a good night’s sleep for like a week now and you didn’t tell me?” He shrugs again. Chay keeps emphasizing words accusatorily, like approaching him and saying, hey I think we’ve been cursed so that we can’t sleep unless we’re near each other please let me curl up next to you in bed, wouldn’t be batshit crazy. Kim can't sleep. Chay can't sleep. Somehow this leads to Kim spending his nights in Chay's bed with the Great Wall of Pillows standing firmly between them.

Freezer Bride (M rated) by williamshooketh

“I love you, Kim,” Chay had told him, his hand on Kim’s wrist. “I love you, but I don’t even know what I like, and I want to try stuff, and I don’t want to make you go along with it just because you feel like you should. I’m really, really sorry.” Kim and Chay open the relationship.

KinnPorsche

Begging for Belief (E rated) by @sincerelystranger

In his darkest moments – in the moments where he’s not allowed to be anyone other than his father’s son – Kinn wonders if Porsche is doing all of this on purpose. -- An extra scene at the end of 1x08

Storm to Weather (M rated) by @achray1

“I’m not going to prison. I’d rather die,” Kinn had said to him, a few weeks back.

In Time (M rated) by @achray1

Chay has totally the wrong impression of everything. Except that he isn’t wrong that Porsche, mafia boss, sometimes seems to Porsche himself like an entirely different person to Porsche, broke bartender and failing college student.

Rarepairs

Gonna Fade You Like That Rush (E rated) by @giraffeter (BigTimeTay)

"Come sit with us," Tay says with a warm, disarming smile. "I'm sure your friend won't mind." Big glances over at the table again. Ken is still busily chatting up the leggy Australian tourists they'd met earlier. "Come on, we don't bite,” Tay says. “Or I don't, anyway, but I can't make any promises for Time." Big can't think of a reason not to, and Tay is already walking ahead of him through the crowd. It would be rude not to follow him. ~ Tay and Time run into Big on his night off. Kinn may not want to play with his own toys, but he's never told them they couldn't help themselves.

Pete the hand-me-down by Anonymous (MacauPete, VegasPete)

From the kinkmeme prompt: Macau adores Pete as a guardian and new, second, safe and loving brotherdad, but he also unconsciously assumes Pete is his the way all of Vegas's things are his because Vegas shares everything with him because it was just them against the world for so long. So he unconsciously assumes he's going to age into being Pete's second boyfriend/pet owner. It's just logical to him. And maybe it's perfectly logical to Pete too.

but of you there ain't many. (E rated) by @evashougouki (VegasPorsche)

Vegas sits up and glares at Porsche, the neon lights of the bar casting harsh shadows under his cheekbones and eyes. He must have lost weight in the hospital— it makes him look gaunt. Still, when he sizes him up with those sharp eyes, Porsche feels small. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Vegas asks acidly, the last word practically dripping with venom, “And you’re buying drinks for random men at a random bar?” Vegas takes the drink, and Porsche pulls a chair up next to him. Porsche thinks that maybe they should ignore each other. Go home. They don’t. The bartender looks away and pretends he isn’t listening, but Porsche knows from experience that he likely is. Getting to hear random gossip and fights was one of the best parts of the job, as long as you’re not too obvious about it. “You have a boyfriend too, and you’re just accepting drinks from a random man at a random bar,” Porsche points out.

Like a Starless Lover (E rated) by williamshooketh (BigChan, BigKinn, BigGun, BigKorn)

Big, the men who aren't Kinn, and the mistakes he makes with them.

Gen Fic

ad infinitum. (T rated) by @adanima (Macau-centric)

Sometimes, Macau hates Vegas. Then he hates his father. Then he hates himself. "Maybe you’re scared I’ll do better than you. Maybe Pa will make me heir instead.” Vegas stares at him, fists clenched. A harsh breath comes out before he leaves Macau’s room. Seconds later, the crash of something shattering onto the floor rings through the halls. Macau screws his eyes shut.

welcome to the playground (M rated) by @tumsa (Ken-centric)

Ken gets hired as a bodyguard for the Theerapanyakul family.

reignite (T rated) by @lu-sn (Nampueng-centric)

Namphueng has been endlessly dreaming. She can only tell because for the first time in years, she might finally be awake.

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

One Night in Pelois

Featuring Paul Pelosi, husband of U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi

The bartender had just handed me my my drunk and I was taking my first swallow of it when I glanced down the bar. There he stood! Tall! Gray hair! Nicely dressed in his suit jacket and his chest hairs poke out of his unbuttoned shirt. Plus he looked rich. Seems that GOD had packed all my likes into one man. Then I noticed his gold wedding ring as he smiled at me.

Truth be told, I��m good looking and get lots of smiles from married men and much more when I go out. So I've been in this situation before. Next thing I know, he was walking towards me like we were the only ones in the room. His smile got bigger as we met. Then I saw his blue eyes, yeaning for attention, for just a moment of love.

"Having fun tonight?" He asked as he surveyed me from head to foot.

"Yes."

"Good. My name is Paul." He offered as I felt his leg touch mine. I like the light sexy touch of his knee against my leg. It sent chill bumps down my spine.

"Micah." I answered with a smile as I let my left hand drop to my side and slowly reached down and touched his thigh.

"Well, Micah, I when I finish my drink I’m going home for some fun. Would you like to join me?" He said as he stared straight into my eyes.

“What about your...” I said looking down at his wedding ring.

“She’s out of town. And I could use some company.”

Suddenly his right hand was down touching my hand before grabbing it and pulling it over to his crotch. Breathing like a marathon running dashing for the finish line, I pressed my hand against the crotch of his slacks. I touched his soft dick. It felt thick.

"Sure." I said as I move my fingers down and felt his balls beneath the fabric of his slacks. They were big and watery.

Once outside, I headed for my car, but the rich old man asked if I would ride with him. Damn if he didn’t have 2021 Porsche 911 Carrera S. He carried me for some ride through the streets of San Francisco. And I can’t even begin to tell you of the Pacific Heights house he took me to. I’ve only seen houses like his in movies and on TV.

We just got out of the car and head to the front door when someone spoke, "Is everything OK Mr. Pelois?"

Mr. Pelois? Paul Pelosi, husband of U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, I thought as I notice he’s nervous that he’s been caught.

“Yeah, we're fine. Hey, have you met my nephew before?”

I quickly gave the security guard a wave a nice to meet you. He returns the favor as Paul ushers me into the house before the security guard could get a good look. I could tell Paul is relieved to have made it to the house as he slips off his shoes and puts his keys away, like it’s his normal routine. I notice the photos on the wall, lots of him and his wife.

By this time, I was SO horned up, I made the first move, leaning in to kiss him. Quickly, he started unzipping his pants, pulling out his cock. My dick was raging hard almost busting through my zipper as I undid my pants. As they fell to the floor, I pulled his down to the floor unleashing his mammoth dick and balls. His dick was a beer can uncut with enough for skin to let me dock half my dick in.

I instantly fell onto my knees in front of Paul, pressed my fingertips lightly against his king-size nuts, stroking as softly. I cupped them in my palm and rolled them around as well as I could. His cock began to grow; it grew faster than you would think and soon it was pointing in my face. A full 8" of cut old man cock. I stuck out my tongue and flicked the head of his prick, rolling his balls over in my palm.

Grabbing the base of his cock and wrapping my lips around it, my tongue thrust against the shaft I swallowed half of his dick. I felt his big hand grab my head and press it down. As I looked up, my mouth full of juicy cock, Paul was looking down at me and smiling.

I began bobbing my head up and down his shaft as his nuts bounced invitingly against my chin. I reached up and tugged at his nuts, they were sweaty, my fingers curled around them and he moaned with satisfaction. I pulled away from his cock and put a hand on his thigh, rubbing him while I jerked my cock, with my mouth full of his wet precum. Paul let go of my head and wrapped his hand around his wet cock, stroking generously.

"Let's go where we can be more comfortable and release some tension." He said if suddenly realizing where we were, took me by my hand and led me to the couch.

Paul staggered as he set down on the sofa in front of me. I took off my shirt, revealing my six pack abs while Paul observe my body, stroking his meat. Then the next thing I knew, the old man had my dick in his mouth and sucking me as he jacking himself off wildly. This married man was a ferocious cock sucker! He couldn’t get enough of sucking my cock and from the way he was doing it, he definitely had done it before.

I felt myself fixing to cum when Paul suddenly took his mouth away from my cock.

“You near cuming?” He asked. When I nodded he said, “I want you to fuck me.”

Damn if that’s wasn’t exactly what I wanted. As good as him sucking me had felt, the thoughts of fucking him had been in the back of my mind all the time.

I spit in my hand several times and smeared it all over my cock making it wet and slippery. Then I got down between Paul’s hairy legs as he began to raise and spread them even more. I expected it to be difficult to push my thick, 7" cock into him, but Paul’s asshole took my dick easily. And I realized that he had done a lot more than just sucked a few dicks in his life.

“Yes, give me that big dick.” The 82 year old called out. “Make me yours!”

I swear his asshole was hotter than any I have ever had. And looking down and seeing his hard cock bouncing up and down just added to my pleasure. In fact, I reached down and grabbed Paul’s dick and pumped in unison with my pumping his ass. I was really enjoying the sensation of his ass squeezing my dick.

Then I just lay on top of him as started kissing him as I fucked his old asshole as hard and fast I possible.

Damn! I couldn’t get enough of kissing the old millionaire. We devoured each other as we kissed and fucked. And damn if Paul didn’t shoot off on my stomach without me even touching his dick. Feeling his hot load of sperm against my belly caused me to shoot my own load deep inside his hot hole.

Another married man conquered, and another notch on my bedpost.

[bitacrytic]

Saw someone commenting on your most recent poll. Ken really did die than betray Vegas. Like the backstabber that he is, he chose death over the possibility of pardon. What is with these mafia men and people throwing their lives away for them?? Like I feel so so so sorry for Tawan. I really do. Yes he was an asshole but my god the manipulation he got subjected to, ultimately committing suicide...nah man. Like Vegas is babygorl...but damn sometimes I wanna fuck him up so bad.

Rip Big.

Rip Tawan and Ken. You were shitty but hey even you all didn't deserve the way Vegas played you.

It's the conditioning they go through. These are adult men who are trained to worship their bosses.

Pete had that same mentality. We all say it's cute that he volunteered to go into the minor family to clear Porsche's name. OH, so cute.

But Pete clearly knew that he might die or get captured. He chose to put his life on the line, just to clear Kinn's boyfriend's name. (Whether he did that for Kinn or Porsche is unclear) But the fact remains that these bodyguards will sell their body and soul for the safety and comfort of their bosses.

I like how subtle the show was about it. They never TOLD us that was the case. They SHOWED us. They showed us goofy bodyguards who get scared of movies, who listen in on important family discussions, who get drunk, who sang and danced.

But they also showed us bodyguards whose entire demeanor changed the moment their boss was put in danger.

Ken and Big were given the chance to offer up their lives. And they took it. But I also believe that any other bodyguard would have done the same.

Tawan was rather unfortunate. But I would say his conditioning was a little different, because...

He went off script.

Vegas clearly had a plan and Tawan chose to do his own thing. He chose to escape from the main family, rather than remain there... where Vegas had asked him to stay. Tawan RUINED Vegas' plans because of self preservation. Something that Big, Ken and Pete do not have.

Which was probably why Vegas didn't give him a choice. Vegas needed him to stay behind and keep Kinn from following. Rather than ask, the way Kinn asked Pete, the way Kim asked Big, rather than ask, Vegas shot Tawan. To keep him at the warehouse. Because, unlike the bodyguards, even though Tawan was on Vegas' side, he still had self preservation. He still had a mind of his own. If he got scared enough, he would have abandoned Vegas' plan. AGAIN.

But Ken, Big and Pete, they chose to sacrifice themselves. And that says something so very fucked up about what he families teach their bodyguards about self worth.

[wickedmoonlite]

KinnPorsche Rewatch 2023

Reminder: as we go into heavier topics in KP (dub-con/non-con, toxic behaviors, etc.), I will not be doing deep dives. I’m planning on taking this just below surface value as these are literally thoughts I have in the moment as I’m watching. Thank you.

Episode 9 Random Thoughts

I just never trusted Tawan, even in my first watch through. I felt bad for him, but that was about it.

I really do wonder who poisoned him, though. Seems like a Ken thing maybe? Since he's a double agent and all? I dunno.

Once again, Tankhun has the best instincts of them all. Never trust the sketchy ex, boys. And also Big knowing not to trust him, either. I get why they didn't just throw him out, but he shoulda just gotten tossed :')

It's literally the minor family. It's always the minor family. Gun has a complex, remember?

My dumbass feral cat boy getting worn down by the cute boy he was gathering info on. Inspiration for the singer-songwriter.

Arm is the only one taking note of the relationship that's right in front of their damn eyes.

Yes, but Pete, you and Vegas are destined to be together. Just go and spy on them. Do it.

Is Tawan trying to lure Kinn in by showing skin with muscle tees? And piss off Porsche at the same time? I don't get the obsession with cutting his shirts lower each time you see him.

What kind of workout is Tawan doing? Wtf?

Yok knows everything, Porsche.

Porsche dancing around in his tighty whiteys is such a mood. Also the song is a banger, tbh.

"Hey Porsche, why is your leg so long today?" Drunk Pete yelling out Korean phrases. This entire scene is something else. Then they just fuck on the couch anyway.

Vegas always knows when Pete follows him. Idk why Kinn keeps sending him to watch them, other than ✨plot devices.✨

Pete getting the stirrings from Vegas putting his hand on his back and the looks he gives. Yeeees.

Oh, Porsche. Not good. Very bad. No spying allowed.

Arm knows better, P.

Why is Tawan, like, constantly in the shower or the bath? Especially when Kinn comes to visit.

Vegas why are you putting your pants legs in the water??? Bruh.

But you and your family are doing things though Vegas??

Oh my god, I hate this scene where Tawan just puts his head in Kinn's lap. Like, please, my dude. Could you be less subtle? All the while, he's fuckin around with Vegas. I just don't like how manipulative it all is. Is no bueno.

Porsche for the love of god. Why you do this? Trust issues all around, bah. I know he was doing it for the right reasons, since he didn't trust Tawan from the beginning (for good reason)... Many thoughts about this whole situation.

I love how cute and nervous Chay is here :') confessing to his crush and Kim says yeah I like you too, I'm just dumb with feelings, here's a cheek kiss, thanks for the gift. Ugh. Too cute, too cute.

I can't imagine all the thoughts rolling around in Porsche's mind. Tawan is consistently showing him what he's actually doing there but he's not showing it to anyone else (except for those that are reading between the lines like Tankhun, Arm, Pete, and Big), least of all Kinn. He's being sickly sweet to Kinn. It's all so manipulative. But that's exactly how the minor family needs it to be. Sowing the seeds of distrust and chaos is the entire point of Tawan being involved in the first place.

And once again, Tankhun has it right.

Convenient Vegas is convenient.

So now I'm finally properly caught up! Yay me. I think these posts peaked at episode 6 because it really is my favorite, but I'm going to keep going because there's so much more to come and it's fun putting my stupid thoughts on the internet.

Episode 10 next 😭 we're close to the end now.

[xpi-x-elx]

Green Fairy

Pete’s staring at the glass of yellow liquid sitting in front of him. It’s taunting him. He’s not sure how he got here. Logically, he knows the sequence of events that led him here; he’s less clear on why he went along with it. 

Earlier

He’s eating lunch with Porsche when Porsche leans in close and whispers excitedly, “guess what I got a hold of!” He’s practically bouncing in his seat. Never a good sign. Pete raises an eyebrow in question. Porsche pulls out his phone and hands it to Pete. It's a photo of a dusty bottle of spirits, the label says 'PERNOT FILS' in barely legible writing. 

Pete squints at it. “What am I looking at?”

“Absinthe! The real stuff. Kinn had a bottle in his liquor collection from 1913, before it was banned.” Porsche beams as if that explains everything.

“Ahh. That’s…nice?”

“Pete! You know what this means right? We have to try it. We can meet the green fairy! I’ve already invited Tankhun, Arm, and Pol. We are meeting tonight to do shots and get fucked up. You’re coming. It’s decided. There’s no getting out of it.”

Now

There was no getting out of it. He pokes his shot glass. “Isn’t absinthe supposed to be green?”

Porsche shrugs and finishes pouring everyone’s drinks. “Kinn said something about aging and how it’s a sign of a ‘well-matured spirit’”

Arm leans over and stage whispers, “that means it’s practically rubbing alcohol.”

Porsche perks up. “Exactly! That's the whole point. I want to be seeing shit by the end of the night. I want to be flying.” He holds both arms in the air dramatically. 

Arm sniffs his tentatively. “Didn’t someone drink too much absinthe and murder an entire family?”

Pete stifles a sigh. He picks up the glass and shoots it back.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Porsche exclaims indignantly then tips his back too. A grimace blooms on his face. “Fuck! That’s nasty. Damn Pete, you didn’t even flinch.”

Pete ignores him as he pours himself a second shot and downs it. He’s not drunk enough to deal with this yet. Pol and Arm shoot theirs back with matching sour faces. Tankhun leans languidly in his chair, sipping from his shot glass. 

“How can you sip that?!” Pol practically shouts. 

Tankhun smiles and takes another drink. “What? I like anise. Don’t you?”

“It tastes as if someone made black liquorice worse. Which is impressive, considering it’s already awful.” Porsche complains. Pete takes another shot. He can feel the alcohol burn in his stomach and his head feels a little fuzzy. He better start seeing some fairies soon or so help him.

Later

Vegas opens the car door for him and grins. “Have fun with your friends?”

Pete slumps into the seat and slurs, “No. Fucking Porsche. Absinthe sucks. Didn’t even hallucinate at all!” 

“You know, if you wanted to hallucinate baby, there are much easier ways.” He smirks.

Pete splutters. “I didn’t… I don’t! It was Porsche!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49814092

[vera9]

KinnPorsche fic: Operation: ArmPol

Summary: Porsche, Pete, and Tankhun combine their efforts to give Arm and Pol the push they so desperately need.

AO3 link

“Hey, Pete?”

Pete glanced up, sipping on his noodles. Porsche had already finished his and was leaning back in his seat. By the look of it, there was something on his mind.

“Hm?”

“About Arm and Pol… Do those two like each other?”

Pete’s eyes grew wide. “So you know, too?”

“Well, of course!” Porsche waved a hand. “It’s so obvious.”

Pete looked rather confused now. “Is it?”

“Isn’t it?” Porsche moved forward. “How do you know, then?”

“They told me. –well, on separate occasions. First Pol, then Arm. They made me promise not to say anything, especially to the other. If I did, they’d kill me–or at least, Arm would. Said something about “making me disappear”. Pol claimed he’d never look at me again.”

Porsche let out a sigh. So much for peace between bodyguards.

Pete inched closer himself. “So how do you know?”

“Like I said, it’s obvious.” To Porsche it was, anyway. The way those two interacted, you’d think they’d been a couple for years. There was something romantic to every touch, every smile, every word they shared with each other. It was subtle, but evident.

That’s why, when Porsche made an off-hand joke about that time they visited the onsen together, Arm’s embarrassed reaction baffled him. The blood rose to his head and his glasses all but popped off his nose at the suggestion that he and Pol may have done anything other than bathe in there.

“O-of course not!” he’d stammered, pushing the glasses back up and nervously avoiding Porsche’s teasing grin. “Why would you assume such a thing?”

His answer had seemed genuine rather than overly shy, so Porsche had dropped the matter–with him. To satisfy his curiosity, he’d posed the exact same question to Pol, who responded by walking out of the conversation with an equally flushed head. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak.

Pete couldn’t help but chuckle when Porsche relayed the incident. “For real? That’s pretty adorable.”

“Sure, but don’t you think it’s weird? If they like each other, why don’t they just get together? There’s no rule against dating a fellow bodyguard.”

“Making a move doesn’t come as easily to others as it does to you, Porsche,” Pete grinned, pointing his chopsticks at his friend. “Maybe they’re afraid to ruin their friendship. If they don’t know they like each other, that seems like a plausible outcome, doesn’t it?”

Porsche thought about it for a moment; then, an idea flashed in his eyes. “Well, in that case, all we have to do is give them a little push.”

Pete was confused, but intrigued. “Do you have something in mind?”

“Mr Tankhun is taking us to Hum Bar tonight. What if I ask Yok to play something different from the usual? Something romantic. Put a few drinks in ‘em, persuade them to dance, and done.”

Porsche sat back again, radiating pride, but Pete wasn’t so sure.

“Maybe we shouldn’t make them drink. They might end up doing something they’ll regret.”

Like what, have sex? Porsche opened his mouth to say he didn’t see the harm, but shut it on second thought. He used to think there was nothing wrong with drunk sex, especially if all parties consented. However, he now had the added experience of sleeping with Kinn while intoxicated, and even if Arm and Pol didn’t feel like they’d been used by the other, Porsche understood there may be other regrets. Pete was right: they shouldn’t let alcohol make such important decisions for them.

“All right,” he nodded. “What about the rest?”

“Sounds good,” Pete grinned, “but maybe we should let Mr Tankhun know. There won’t be much of an atmosphere if he’s wondering why the usual music isn’t on.”

“What’s that now?”

Pete jolted, then shot up and welcomed his master with a bow. In regards to Porsche, Tankhun had to make do with him going to the effort of standing.

“Good afternoon, Mr Tankhun,” Pete greeted politely. “Do you need something?”

“Yes, obviously!” Tankhun flung his hand much like Porsche had before him, except with five times the extravagance. “I want to know what you two were saying behind my back! You’re up to something, aren’t you?” His accusatory finger roamed from one bodyguard to the other. “Fess up, fess up!”

“Actually, Mr Tankhun, you came just at the right time,” Porsche said. He was beaming that familiar “trust me” smile of his. “Are Arm and Pol with you?”

“No. They should be here at any moment.” Tankhun looked as if waiting for them was the biggest inconvenience in the world–which, to him, it probably was.

“Then I’ll be quick. Pete and I were just talking about them. Did you know they like each other?”

Tankhun rolled his eyes. “Of course. It’s obvious.”

Porsche grinned. Pete grimaced.

“You’re so right. That’s why we’re thinking we should help them get together, and our trip to Hum Bar tonight may just do the trick. Dancing together to romantic music, with soft, pink lighting… That should set the mood. Sounds good, right?”

Tankhun ran it over in his head. Then he said: “I approve. But I won’t have anyone to dance with.”

“You can dance with Pete,” Porsche gestured half-jokingly. 

“I don’t want to.” Tankhun had shot him down before Pete even had the chance to give him a look.

“We can dance before and after,” Porsche reassured him. “We have to ease them into it, so they’ll be comfortable by the time the sappy music hits. –oh, but we need a favour from you: you have to tell them not to drink. We want them thinking clearly when things get serious, you know?”

Of course Porsche had to phrase their request like an order. Pete bit his lip, hoping the eldest Theerapanyakul would forgive his insolence. Thankfully, as he was wont to do, Tankhun treated him like one of a similar station.

“Right, yes, makes sense. I like it,” he smiled. The idea of personally contributing to their little love mission pleased him. “Leave it to me.”

“Thank you so much, Mr Tankhun,” Porsche grinned, clearly eager himself. “Ah, and one more thing: you can’t say anything to them about this, okay? We want to make it as organic as possible.”

Tankhun scoffed. “What do you take me for? I’m not a child, and I can keep a secret. Don’t be so assuming, assumer.”

“My bad,” Porsche said, though his giddy expression was far from gone. He had to force it back to normal when he heard several footsteps. The three of them shared a meaningful look before Arm and Pol appeared in sight, ever unassuming.

-

Three cars pulled up at Hum Bar that night. Porsche had invited Kinn, Jom, and Tem, and Kinn had invited Tay and Time in turn. They had all been informed of the plan, and Kinn and his friends were prepared to help set the mood with their partners if need be. After all, Arm and Pol may feel more inclined to dance if they weren’t the only couple on the dancefloor. As for Jom and Tem: they were just here to have a good time.

As such, it was no surprise that they ordered drinks as soon as they entered the bar. Pol was right behind them.

“Excuse me, Miss Yok, can I ha–ow!”

Tankhun had smacked the hand he held out to grab Yok’s attention. “Ah-ah-ah! No alcohol for you tonight.” He turned to Arm and said: “That goes for you too. Not a drop, okay?”

Despite his confusion at Tankhun’s sudden outburst, Arm lowered his head obediently. He wasn’t much of a drinker, anyway. “Understood, Mr Tankhun.”

Sadly, Pol wasn’t quite as cooperative. “But why, Mr Tankhun?” he whined, rubbing his sore hand.

“Well–” Tankhun knew he could just say “Because I say so” and be done with it, but he went the extra mile: “I want you to drive me home.”

Pol pouted, about to point out that cars, in fact, only required one driver, but he paid heed to the frantic “keep your yap shut” gestures Arm was making behind Tankhun’s shoulder. He was right: as heavenly as the drinks were at this place, nothing was worth fighting for if it resulted in a tantrum à la Tankhun Theerapanyakul. 

“Understood, Mr Tankhun,” he sighed, and he watched with envy as the rest of the group ordered their drinks. Tankhun wasn’t slapping their hands; hell, he even had one himself. 

Arm walked over and rubbed his shoulder to comfort him. “You can go one night without drinking.”

“I know,” Pol complained, “but he’s never forbidden it before.”

Arm shrugged. “Mr Tankhun has his moods, you know that. Let’s just forget about it and dance, okay?”

Pol mustered a smile. Even if Arm’s dancing was rather on the wooden side, he looked adorable when he tried. 

“Okay.”

And so they moved to the dancefloor, unaware of the three pairs of eyes that were glued to their every move. Despite having a drink in their hands, Porsche, Pete, and Tankhun were all determined to stay sober enough to observe their progress.

For now, though, everybody joined in, laughing and cheering and letting loose. Lights flashed and music boomed and Arm and Pol swung their hearts out as usual. Pol in particular seemed to have forgotten all about being cut off; he enjoyed himself regardless, constantly smiling at Arm, and Arm smiling right back. 

Little did they know that Porsche was moments away from approaching the DJ and requesting a completely different song. He waited until the mood was just right: until those two were so engrossed in the atmosphere that they wouldn’t let the sudden switch deter them.

And there it was, a slow, teeth-rottingly sweet song, causing everybody to stop in their tracks. 

“Gentlemeeeen,” Yok purred into a microphone behind the counter. Her voice was surprisingly smooth, contrary to the usual boisterous tone that befitted a party. “This one’s for the lovebirds among you. Have fun~”

And so Kinn and Porsche, as well as Tay and Time, took their chance to embrace each other and start shuffling. Sadly for Porsche, Arm and Pol insisted on being difficult. Clearly feeling out of place, they left the floor to the two couples. Crap. Pete moved to talk them into turning around, but Tankhun was ahead of him. 

“Hold up. What do you think you’re doing?”

Arm and Pol exchanged awkward glances, then looked back at Tankhun. 

“This is a love song, sir,” Arm said, in case Tankhun had misunderstood Yok’s announcement. “It’s for couples only.”

“No, it’s not,” Tankhun objected, and he pointed: “Look, they’re dancing too.”

Arm and Pol looked over at Jom and Tem, who weren’t so much slow-dancing as keeping each other from smacking against the floor. Admirable attempt, considering they were plastered out of their minds.

“No, you see, sir–” Pol tried, but Tankhun was having none of it.

“All this talking, talking, talking–” His fingers repeatedly tapped against the tip of his thumb. “–but I’m not seeing any dancing! Come on, get back in there!”

“Then whom will you dance with, sir?” Arm inquired. “Pete?”

“Pete? Pffff, no,” Tankhun spat, “I’ll take a break and keep an eye on you kids. Be good now!”

There was no room to interject. Tankhun strode off with a flourish, leaving the two of them alone together. Now, the only sound that filled their ears was a gentle melody and a passionate, love-stricken singing voice. Arm and Pol met eyes once more and gave the same awkward smile, as if on cue.

“... so… er… would you like to dance…?” Pol said, and he blushed, feeling dumb just for asking. Thankfully, the pink lights camouflaged his cheeks.

Arm had to clear his throat before he was able to answer: “I suppose I would,” although the twinkle in his eyes implied more enthusiasm than he let on. He summoned the courage to present his hand, and something jumped in his chest when Pol took it. 

Together, they walked back to their spot, and they clunkily, but surely, put their hands on each other. Arm’s were on Pol’s shoulders, while Pol’s rested on Arm’s back.

“Sorry,” Arm muttered as they started moving. His eyes were on Pete’s chest rather than his face. “You know I can’t dance.”

Pol flashed a knowing smirk. “I’m not so sure about that. You danced very well that one time, after you got some beers in you.”

Ah, right, that. Arm would rather die than recall that night, but hey, it was fine. “Well, I’m not drunk now, so don’t expect too much.”

Pol couldn’t contain his smile. Arm was so cute when he turned shy. As far as Pol was concerned, he had nothing to be shy about; watching him dance like a stripper and empty his glass all over his half-naked body was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Arm could be so damn attractive, and he didn’t even know it. In all honesty, Pol wanted to grab those cheeks and kiss him, but he wouldn’t dare. What if he freaked him out?

“It’s not like I’m so good at it,” he replied instead. “Besides, I like dancing with you.”

Arm hesitantly lifted his head. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather dance with someone else?”

“It’s not a contest,” Pol reminded him. “We’re here to have fun, right? And I’m having–” He struggled, but ultimately dropped “the most”. “–fun with you.”

“Ah,” Arm said simply, blushing himself, looking away again. “Yes, well–me too.” 

It wasn’t often he needed reassurance from Pol instead of the other way around. Truth be told, Arm was loath to expose his insecurities, but Pol never mocked or judged him for it. All he ever did was comfort him, and god, he looked so handsome when he smiled like that, all confident. Did he know the pull he could have on people? In all honesty, Arm wanted to grab those cheeks and kiss him, but he wouldn’t dare. What if he freaked him out?

Maybe don’t think about that for now. Arm and Pol focused on the song instead, letting the rhythm carry them. It sounded nice, and sweet, and romantic. Eventually, they found themselves locking eyes again, and giving each other yet another bashful smile. 

The longer they stayed like that, the less they felt like they were dancing with a mere friend. There was an attraction, a longing, that spurred to life, one that had sat dormant in them both for far too long. Arm’s gaze was now fixed solely on Pol, and Pol’s on his. Their smiles fell for a more–intense expression. Their surroundings slowly faded until they were the only ones left in the world. They didn’t know why, but that stupid, stupid fear of scaring the other away was long gone. There was only the desire to bridge what little space was left between them, and so they did.

The kiss was as soft and gentle as the song that had brought it on. It finished not much later, and the two of them parted when the usual party music kicked back in. Even so, they remained oblivious to anything that was not the man in front of them. Neither realised that their friends were watching them; some amused, others sincerely happy. Porsche and Pete (the latter of whom had joined a bored Tankhun at the bar) gave each other a thumbs up.

Nothing registered on the part of the two lovebirds. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, until they simultaneously burst into a nervous chuckle.

“You–meant to do that, right?” Arm asked sheepishly. Anything more eloquent escaped him as his brain was desperately trying not to shut down.

“Yes, I did, of course,” Pol nodded quickly, then admitted with less fervency: “I’ve, uh, wanted to for a while, actually.”

“Oh,” Arm said, now incapable of forming even one coherent word. If he were able, he would’ve told Pol the sentiment was mutual. He wasn’t going to try, though. If he couldn’t speak, he just had to let his actions do the talking.

Their second kiss was met with “aww”s and snickering and an affectionate shake of the head. It started out as sweet as the first, but didn’t stay that way for long. Porsche and the others looked on in surprise as it abruptly grew more passionate: Arm was now holding Pol’s face in his hands, while Pol pressed their bodies as close as he could. Their mouths opened and their tongues clashed and they were frankly uttering the occasional noise that made everyone embarrassed to be in the vicinity. Neither Arm nor Pol seemed to care; they were too busy hungrily reaching for each other’s hair and faces and backsides. Arm even threw one leg around Pol’s waist.

However, it wasn’t until they shoved themselves up against the counter and sent a few glasses crashing to the floor that Yok put a stop to their make-out session: “Hey, hey, hey! All right, that’s enough of that! Take it outside if you’re gonna keep it up.”

“Right, sorry.” In a rather futile attempt to recompose themselves, Arm put his tilted glasses back in place, while Pol fixed his cardigan. Now that they had finally confirmed their feelings, they’d come gushing out all at once. Damn, they probably shouldn’t have done that while their colleagues and their bosses were watching.

Thankfully, Kinn promised Yok he’d pay for the broken glasses, and the party resumed not long after. Curiously, Tankhun suddenly decided the very exclusive ban on alcohol was lifted, arguing he could just let Pete drive. Pol didn’t need to be told twice: he immediately ordered a drink. Arm followed suit, although he wasn’t nearly as ignorant to his master’s motives as he was.

“You guys planned this, didn’t you?” he said when Pete joined them at the counter. It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement.

“Guilty,” Pete grinned, innocently holding his hands up. “It was Porsche’s idea, though. He said you needed a push.”

Arm glanced down. He supposed they did: all this time–god knows how long, really–they’d been pining for the other, completely unaware that said pining was reciprocal. They’d been too busy fretting over their own shortcomings to entertain the thought that they might feel the same way. It was so stupid in hindsight. Arm couldn’t exactly claim he saw everything when he failed to grasp that his closest friend was in love with him.

The idea made his cheeks heat again. Pol was in love with him. He was in love with Pol. They’d finally, finally, kissed. Arm didn’t remember the last time he felt this happy. He looked over at Pol, who gave him one of those bright, precious smiles he loved so much. He was happy, too. As always, the two of them were on the same page–but they wouldn’t have realised to what extent if it weren’t for Porsche. For all they knew, they could’ve wasted a couple more years without his help. Arm decided they should thank him later. For now, though…

“Would you like to dance when you’re done with that?” he proposed with a nod to Pol’s drink. He already knew the answer, but that didn’t matter. Pol had asked him the same question earlier, and now it was his turn.

Thankfully, Pol’s response wasn’t nearly as half-hearted as his had been. He gave a wink as he reached over and squeezed Arm’s hand in his own.

“I’d love to.”

[does-whatever]

Drunk on you

Pairing: Porsche Pachara Kittisawat and Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakun

Length: One-shot

Series: The Domestic Life of KinnPorsche

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41163342

First time Porsche saw drunk Kinn

He couldn’t believe it, he thought that he won’t ever see something like this and Porsche had long resigned it to be just a dream that will never come to fruition.

But he was wrong.

What is it you make ask?

Well, it was Kinn, his beautiful but can be scary if he wanted to mafia boyfriend, who is currently drunk out of his pants standing on the coffee table they have in their bedroom, singing his heart out to Faen by Lipta.

_

It all started a normal day for both Kinn and Porsche. They woke up, ate breakfast together and each went to their respective responsibilities with a promise to meet up for lunch. By the time they met up again for lunch and had their meal, both of them realized that they have already done their work. It was one of those days where all the business they had to attend to are all done, there are no pending emails, meetings, or calls that either of them needed to attend to.

And because of their free time, they decided to retire to their apartment early to do nothing but be with each other. Hey, mafia kings need to rest too, you know?

While changing out of his work clothes, Porsche had heard Kinn direct one of the guards to under no circumstances, unless emergency that they should be disturbed.

_

Of course, the first few hours of their free half day were spent getting lost in each other. Because of the time they had, they took time making each other fall apart and be put back together again. However, after 3 glorious rounds, both found themselves still wired with energy, and still not tired from their activities.

That was when Porsche turned to Kinn as he was struck with the idea.

“Want to get drunk?” he said from his position on Kinn’s chest. Kinn who was running his fingers on his lover’s hair smiled and instantly agreed. The younger man quickly stood up despite the slight wobble due to their past activities and headed towards the bar in their living room.

After a few minutes, Porsche came back to their bedroom carrying a glass container filled with a dark brown liquid. Kinn raised his thick eyebrows in question. "Yok gave me some to keep here because she knows sometimes I crave this," Porsche said with a smile and placed the glass container on their carpeted floor.

Kinn got down from the bed and sat beside Porsche who was starting to pour a glass of his herbal drink in a glass he took from their bar. After, he handed it to Kinn.

"Here you go, babe." and winked.

Kinn took the glass and drank it in one go. As the drink hit Kinn’s throat he remembered the time he first tasted this drink - the bitterness and the burn is something unique and not like his usual whiskey drink. But apart from the taste, it also instantly brought fond memories of him and Porsche at the pier - the first time he and Porsche connected and how soft his boyfriend looked while the light from the boat passing by made the younger look which made Kinn finally make a move and initiate their first kiss. This made the older relax and decided to enjoy his free time with his lover.

"Your turn." Kinn gave the glass to Porsche and the other happily took it and pour himself some.

_

Both Kinn and Porsche just took turns in drinking, they were just simply talking and enjoying each other's company. Porsche was in the middle of telling Kinn about the time he and Chay got a pet cat when he felt Kinn nuzzle his neck.

Porsche knew that Kinn has high alcohol tolerance so he wasn’t holding back in refilling the other’s glass whenever the older took his shot. But then, Kinn's words slowly turned blurry and his movements are not as graceful as it usually is, Porsche knew that his boyfriend is getting drunk.

"I think you're drunk, baby. Should we stop?" he asked as Kinn nuzzle in his neck, while Porsche ran his fingers on the older's nape.

Kinn pulled back a few seconds later, a lazy smile on his face, "Nope" with emphasis on the "p" sound and boop Porsche's nose. "Wanna get drunk with you. Haven't been drunk in a long time."

Porsche softened and ran his hands through Kinn's hair, the movement comforted the older and continued to nuzzle on his hand like a dog looking for someone to pet him. He knew what Kinn's words meant, he trusted Porsche enough to take care of him if he gets drunk and be vulnerable with him, and Porsche will make sure that he did. So they continued to drink.

After a few shots between them, Kinn peeled himself away from Porsche and started to drunkenly walk towards the coffee table.

"Kinn, where are you going?" Porsche asked and is starting to get up to make sure he will catch Kinn if he stumbles.

"Wanna sing a song for you" Kinn climbed up the table, "Siri, play Faen by Lipta." As the song started, Kinn unbuttoned his shirt and started singing very loudly.

Porsche was stunned and endeared, he never thought that he will ever see Kinn like this. Deciding that his masterpiece needs to be remembered he took his phone from their sidetable and recorded his boyfriend, who was now moving his hips in a thrusting way whilst still singing very loudly.

Once the song ended, Kinn clumsily got down and crawled back to Porsche's place on the floor. Being still highly drunk, Kinn crashed his face towards Porsche's chest.

"Did you like it?" the older asked, face mushed because of his position

Porsche let out a laugh, "I did. what that song for me?" rubbing his hands on Kinn's back

"Yes! Cus I wanna be your boyfriend."

"But you already are my boyfriend." Porsche's fingers now running through Kinn's and the older arms are now around Porsche's waist

"Hm, you're right. I'm amazing"

The younger let out a laugh, "You're ridiculous" but placed a soft kiss on Kinn's lips

Kinn pulled back and looked in his eyes, "How about be my husband, then?"

Getting marriage proposals from Kinn is not new to Porsche, the older has been giving him not-so-subtle hints of them getting married ever since they moved in together, and honestly, Porsche already knows his answer.

"What about try to ask me again when you are sober and won't forget it in the morning?" Porsche continues to rub soothing circles on Kinn's back.

The older's forehead wrinkled as if he was about to protest but nodded after a while, "Okay, I'll make sure to remember."

Porsche chuckled at his boyfriend, "Want to go to bed? It seems like you are already falling asleep on me."

"Hmmm.. comfy." was all the reply he got from Kinn

"Ah no don't sleep on me on the floor. Our bodies will ache tomorrow and not even in a good way." Porsche started to get up from the floor "Up now, Kinn. Let's walk to the bed"

Kinn only grunted but stood up with Porsche. Once Porsche got Kinn on the bed, he started to remove the shirt and pants Kinn had put on when they started drinking, "Kinn, take off your clothes. It will be comfier for you."

Kinn did as he was told and started to remove his shirt, "Are we gonna fuck?"

"No, Kinn. We're going to sleep. I don't even know if you can get it up."

Kinn opened his eyes and looked at Porsche as if he grew a third head, "I can! Watch me." and started to unbutton his pants and take them off

"No, Kinn! We'll sleep now. We can do it tomorrow."

Kinn stopped and allowed Porsche to take off his pants, "Okay, don't make me forget okay? Promise?"

Porsche smiled, "Okay. Promise"

The younger left Kinn for a minute and when he got back his boyfriend is already on his way to sleep, "Kinn, before you sleep drink this first."

After drinking, Kinn opened his eyes and kissed Porsche on the lips, "Thank you, Porsche. Love you"

Porsche also removed his clothes and climbed to bed and settled beside Kinn, leg raising to rest on the older's waist. "I love you too, Kinn."

"I'm gonna marry you someday" Kinn mumbled as he drifted off to sleep

Porsche smiled as he close his eyes, "Looking forward to it."

[horrorslashergirl]

A Hacker Story. When the package burns to ashes

Authors Note: Another story, another glimpse of who the psychopathic madman known as the Hacker, was.

Warning: Contains content that may trigger some people; scenes with bullying, certain sensitive topics of abuse and abandon, and disturbing themes because it's the Hacker.

It was another Friday night, and he wasn't invited to this so called party that his girlfriend attended, or was it ex-girlfriend? Xander could tell, because she simply said she needed a break, a pause, something so she could find herself.

He was confused and tried to understand what she meant, he gave her space, not wanting to pressure her. He was fine with waiting for her. After all, they made plans, after highschool, they would both go to college, make a carrer and have a future together.

He was the type to make long-term plans. Call him a perfectionist, but that's how he liked for things to be with certain topics in his life. After his mother left him, his sister and father, he wanted to make sure things will go all smoothly, so he took precautious measures.

So, here he was, entering her house, where the party took place, his grey eyes scanning the crowd for her, seeing all kinds of people, getting drunk and doing drugs, some moving upstairs and you didn't had to be a genius to know what they would do... Hopefully not get pregnant before they could finish highschool.

Walking into the kitchen, Xander saw his 'girlfriend' outside on the back porch, his grey eyes meet her blue ones, only the glass door between them and he felt his gut twist, not because he was anxious of talking to her, but because the football captain of the school was with her, flashing him one of these arrogant raised eyebrow expressions, his bulky arms crossed over his chest, putting on an Alpha male pose to assert his dominance silently.

"Blueberry..." Dalia whispered as she slide the glass door open, wrapping her arms around Xanders neck, making him feel all warm inside, basking into her scent and feeling his anxiety vanish, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I missed you." she murmured into his neck, his own arms wrapped around her and he felt like they were the only people into the room.

Pulling away, he grinned, his pearly whites adored by neon blue braces, as he looked into her sky blues, getting lost into them.

"I got you something." Xander said, pulling out a small tablet; it was a digital photo album with all their pictures together from the moment they meet, their memories and dates, screenshot of their cute messages together.

Of course all beautiful things have to come to an end as he was tugged outside on the back porch by the football captain known as Brian, making the slimmer male drop the digital tablet, Brian stepping on it, a crack could be heard, most likely broke it.

"Hey! What-" Xander argued, a frown on his face as he gazed at Brian who rolled his eyes.

"You weren't invited and that was with a reason. I got to make sure no freaks are coming to this party." he simply said, making Xander purse his lips, scoffing and giving a dry chuckle.

"Sure.... What would we do without the star of our school.. Mr. Perfect posting each day pictures all shirtless, with your football team and your red Porsche driving to school... And all the 4,000 followers on Instagram... Which half of them are fake by the way." Xander snapped, grey eyes narrowing more, stepping in front of the muscular tall male.

"But you know what? Us... Nerds.... We are not impressed." he spat, his eyes looking on Dalias who, like everyone was watching the whole scene.

"And what are you trying to say?" Brian asked with a bored look on his face.

"I am going to college. Me and Dalia. Together. To make a carrer.... Something that you will never do. You know what happens to popular guys like you?" The nerdy grey eyes male said, getting more into Brians face, making the sturdy guy shrug.

"They end up cleaning the toilets for people like me." Xander hissed, his patience wearing thin, not standing this asshole anymore, all that arrogance because he was tall, muscular and had a big status, with girls crowding around him, like he was the big shit.

Brian rolled his eyes and turned his back to Xander, not even giving him any thoughts, like he was invisible.

"Fucker." Xander muttered, under his breath, making Brian stop and chuckle, turning back to look him straight in his grey eyes.

"And what makes you think, you.... Of all people... Will realize something big, metal-mouth?" The jock scoffed, stalking over to Xander, putting one muscular arm over the nerds shoulder.

"If I recall.... Your mommy isn't the only one that left you." Brian commented with a smirk, pointing at Dalia.

Grey eyes widened, feeling suddenly small and self concious, looking at Dalia who didn't said anything, only looking away from him, trying to hide behind one of her friends.

"I guess, you don't have the balls, huh?" Brian added, gropping Xanders crotch mockingly, making the black haired male squeak and pull away, seeing everyone looking at him, snickering and laughing.

Swallowing hard like metal nails were piercing his throat, Xander run away from the crowd, from the house, taking his bike and peddaling away form the scene, from the party. Anywhere not there to be, feeling like he was all alone.

His mother left. His girlfriend left.

After many years....

Oh yes, he recalled these memories, and now he could only laugh at what happened back then in highschool. Ignorant idiots who think their world is at their feet only because they were lucky enough to be born into the 'perfect' family.

The Hacker researched more so out of pure boredom and curiousity what his former highschool classmates realized in life.

Most of them, had mediocre jobs that could hardly pay for a rent in New York City.

Brian? Looks like Mommy and Daddy went both broke, their company falling down to ashes. The price of having a loud mouth and being a show-off. He was no longer as sturdy as he used to be. Poor Brian thought that muscels and a good look could get him anywhere... The only problem is aging and the competition into a higher league of football was too much for Mr. Perfect.

Dalia? Finished highschool, got married to a guy who turned out to be an abusive asshole who kicked her out on the streets after find a better younger deal. She used to be so cute and innocent, and now she was selling herself on the streets of New York, because lets face it; as you age, you are not longer as desirable as you used to be back in the younger days. Guys want fresh meat.

They all thought they were invincible without a stable base. They all depended on someone; their mommy and daddy, their partner who was just using them etc.

The Hacker on the other hand? He builded his own empire all alone, not depending once on someone. He was his own boss, his own rules that he lived by.

He remembered back in highschool during a biology class, about the animal hierarchy.

They were two types; the solitary ones and the pack ones.

The pack ones were strong, only in big numbers, because alone, despite being hunter, they could turn to prey so easily. Lions, buffalos, wolvs..... Yes, they are strong ones, but without a pride or pack... They are completly vulnerable.

Then, the solitary ones; Tiger, Leopard, Crocodile, Jaguar, Polar Bears .... They hunt alone, all by themselvs and they excel into that department with impecable moves. They don't depend on anyone but their own skills and powers.

The Hacker was a solitary one and he loved to be like that. He didn't had to worry about anyone, to fill his mind with useless stuff about what the other might care when that someone can always turn their claws on him.

But he was a snake... Sneaky, cunning and venomous and if someone dared to mess with the Black Mamba, then this sleek serpent will sink his fangs into said person and make them wish they were never born.

"Oh how the hierarchy has turned upside down." he whispered to himself with a sadistic smirk, twirling the bowie knife between gloved fingers, eyes from behind the mask watching the countdown for the next Red Room Event.

'Only 2 Days 18 Hours and 35 Minutes Left'

"H-Help... W-Whose there?" a helpless voice spoke from behind the Hacker, looking over his shoulder to see the shiny metal chest, the broken voice resounding from inside.

"Soon.... Very soon." he rasped out, voice husky and dripping with macabre intentions.

The games have only just began.

[mrssimply]

Hello! I hope you aren't getting too many Kerry x Johnny but you write them so well and their chemistry that it's impossible not to want more :D From the kissing ones: "Kissing tears from the other’s face." to make it more interesting c:

Hey anon, thank you for the prompt :D and Thank you for your kind words, I'm very happy to contribute to the fandom the way I can, and like. Writing really is a passion to me.

BUT, I'm not sure what you expected requesting that prompt but erm... I thought about taking on a silly turn for this one, but in the end, I think it cannot be anything else but angst with them.

Please, prepare your tissues, because we go into canonical major character death here (althought the death itself is not described, the game did that for us). I'm sorry in advance.

But I consider it my job to make you all cry once in a while: it's cathartic.

Si tu t’en vas, si tu t’en reviens…

If you go, if you come back…

The call came at three in the morning. Kerry jolted awake, sweat covering his body as the ringing wrenched him from yet another nightmare. Chasing the remains of the terror he had been drowning into, he took his phone with shaking hands.

He had to try twice before he could properly utter a hello in the receiver.

“Mister Eurodyne?”

“Yeah, t’s me,”

“I’m Officer Selene Fransh, from the NCPD station in Little China. You’ve been listed as Mister Silverhand next of kin.”

Kerry breath settled. This was familiar. The NCPD was better than the hospital. He probably wasn’t dead. Yet.

“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll come and get him.”

She then proceeded to give him the amount needed to bail Johnny out, and the procedure. But the musician was more than familiar with the proceedings.

---

When two officers brought Johnny to the front of the station, he was cursing and buckling like a bull at rodeo. His face was covered in blood, probably his own judging by the trace coming from his nose and mouth. But other than that, he seemed fine, if drunk and probably high. He stopped struggling when he saw Kerry and there was a moment of suspension before he was pushed toward his friend.

“You came.” Johnny muttered, eyes glazed.

“Always,” Kerry replied with a shaking smile. As long as I can, he thought.

They gave him back his stuff, which mostly consisted of his aviators and pack of smokes. The glasses went over his eyes before they were out of the precinct, and Johnny shakily lit a cigarette as they made their way to Johnny’s Porsche. It was two blocks away, the rocker indicated, in front of the club where he had been savagely attacked by gonks. That was his version. The police version spoke about assault from Johnny on two unsuspecting corpo, but Kerry didn’t comment. Johnny was babbling, still under the effect of the drugs he had taken. Probably Lace, if Kerry knew his friend.

---

The way back to Kerry’s was made in relative silence, with only disparate and weird comments from Johnny as alcohol and drugs ran their courses through his blood stream. They only had to stop once for the rocker to throw up noisily. All through that, Kerry said nothing, heart clenching painfully at seeing his friend in such state.

He had come back from his trip with the Aldecaldos four years ago. He had seemed to get better after his return, until he had been pulled under by the corpo’s war going full swing around them. For the past year, Kerry had watched him turn darker, more violent, until his face was perpetually struck in a sneer. There had been moments of grace, though, lost in time, that Kerry cherished above everything else. But these moments couldn’t save Johnny from the darkness eating at him. Kerry couldn’t save him from it.

They had reformed Samurai, or tried to but between Denny and Henry falling out, the man’s own addiction problems, and Nancy killing her abusive husband… And Johnny, of course. They were still supposed to play tomorrow night, at The Hammer, but seeing the state Johnny was in, Kerry doubted he would show up.

---

Back at his shitty flat, Johnny made a bee-line for the bathroom and vomited again. Kerry put water to boil with the idea of making coffee, or use one of the teas his sister had gifted him at Christmas. But when Johnny came out, he only grunted before opening the cabinet of Kerry’s little kitchen, finding a half-drunk bottle of scotch and drinking heavy gulps directly from it.

Kerry watched him do it with desperation burning in his veins. Then Johnny put the bottle on the table and heavily sat on the couch before lighting yet another smoke. Kerry sat back with him and lit one of his own. They shared the silence for a moment.

“Johnny,” Kerry breathed, and his friend jerked to his feet, pushing his aviator on his head.

“This is meaningless, Kerry! Everything is meaningless!” he exploded, kicking the low table and spilling the contents everywhere. The other man only righted the bottle with a sigh. He got up and tried to approach his friend.

“Come on, Johnny, we need to clean you up.”

But Johnny shoved him harshly off him, and Kerry stumbled and hit his head against the wall. Wincing, he cursed and Johnny rounded on him, body brimming with tension. His eyes were wild, feverish from the substance abuse and for a moment Kerry feared his companion couldn’t even recognize him anymore.

Johnny closed in on him in two big strides, taking the collar of his shirt in hands and yanking him in. Their teeth clashed painfully, making Kerry keen pitifully before he tried to shove Johnny away. But the man only pushed further until the musician’s head banged the wall again. In desperation, Kerry bit his lip, harsh and Johnny growled before retreating with a curse.

Kerry evaded him, going to the bathroom where he started pulling out supplies to clean Johnny’s face.

“I thought you loved me.” Johnny said from where he was heavily leaning in the doorway. Kerry didn’t reply, only pushed past him with the disinfectant and bandages.

“Come on, sit.”

Whatever was going on Johnny’s head, being rejected by Kerry seemed to have surprised him enough. He sat and watched his friend with suspicion, a fraction calmer.

“You never say no, usually.”

Kerry let out a hysterical chuckle. How nice it was to have his fucking infatuation thrown at his face like that.

“You’re drunk and stoned, Johnny. I won’t fuck you like this.”

Then he knelt between his friend’s knees with a cotton beforehand imbibed with disinfectant. He started on the slight cut on Johnny’s cheekbone. The man reeked of alcohol as he breathed shallowly, watching Kerry’s face intently.

“How do you do it, Ker?” he whispered after a moment, where Kerry had applied a band-aid on the cut. “How can you continue to live on normally, with all that’s happening!”

Kerry’s eyes flickered to his.

“I’m not like you, Johnny,” he explained, while softly dabbing another cotton to the corner of Johnny’s mouth. “I wish I was as brave as you, keeping up the fight always. But the truth is that most of the time I’m scared shitless…” he snorted, a self-depreciating sound. “I’m lame like that.” He concluded.

Johnny frowned, before he caught Kerry’s hand.

“You’re right, when you’re like this, you’re lame. I way prefer when you scream at me, when you break your lungs on stage next to me, when you push me away, when you bite me ‘cause you don’t want me kissing ya…”

And his friend couldn’t stop the soft smile blooming on his face. It was… nice. In a Johnny kind of way. He finished wiping the blood off the rocker’s face before getting up.

“Come on, we can yell at each other tomorrow.” He said, pulling Johnny behind him toward the bed.

Said man stayed silent, unmoving as Kerry helped him undress to his boxers. He willingly went to the bed, and turned to Kerry as he pulled the covers over themselves and shut down the light.

“Ker,” he whispered after a moment. “I’m drowning.”

The words, lost in the dark of the night, where like a punch to Kerry’s stomach.

“I know,” he still replied, because he couldn’t deny it.

“I can’t stop the rage inside. I can’t recall the last time I wasn’t fuckin angry. I thought I could live with it, but the moment I came back from the desert, it started again, like ants crawling under my skin. I can’t stop it. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t act. That my mind will explode. I feel like I’m dying, piece by piece.”

Kerry closed his eyes against the onslaught of pain Johnny’s confession caused. It was breaking his heart, ravaging his soul, tearing his mind. He couldn’t breathe.

“I feel so powerless. Every time I hear about their war, I get so… So…” he couldn’t find the words, it seemed. “I want to kill them all, Ker. I want to put my hands around their throats and squeeze until I snap their spines Until they choke on their own blood. I want to smash their heads until they bleed and their brains splatter against the pavement.”

The other man clenched his hands in the pillow to stop his shaking and took slow deep breathes, even though the air he inhaled seemed as heavy as lead.

“I’m drifting, falling apart, fading away.” Johnny breathed, voice wet. Slowly, his hand crawled toward Kerry until he caught his wrist. “You’re the last thing anchoring me here, Ker. And I hate you for it.”

Kerry bit down a wounded sound and turned the other way, or tried to because Johnny prevented him, instead moving over him.

“I hate you,” he repeated, breath warm against Kerry’s lips. Then he brushed their mouths, barely a kiss and Kerry kept his eyes closed, not sure he could bear to expose himself any more.

Johnny’s hands went to his head, framing his cheek to kiss him for real this time. That’s when Kerry felt the wetness trailing over Johnny’s cheeks. He was crying. Johnny was crying. Kerry was pretty sure it was the first time he was witnessing it. Even after Alt, he hadn’t shed a tear in public.

When the rocker pulled back, Kerry opened his eyes and could faintly see, in the low light of the city through the blinds, the traces of shimmering tears. Johnny’s eyes shone too, strangely, and his mouth trembled a bit as he caressed Kerry’s temple from the tip of his fingers.

Slowly, Kerry brough his hand to Johnny’s face and wiped the tears, but fresh ones replaced them immediately. Johnny continued to cry silently with only his breathing, deep and trembling, betraying him. Pushing up gently, Kerry kissed the tears, licking the salty water from the tip of his lips.

Then, Johnny exhaled and buried his head in Kerry’s neck.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, Ker.” Johnny mumbled against his skin. “Whatever happens tomorrow…”

And Kerry waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did. Not aloud anyway. He wrote it over Kerry’s skin with hand and lips, with bites and scratches over his back and hips.

---

The call came at three in the morning. Kerry jolted awake, sweat covering his body as the ringing wrenched him from yet another nightmare. Chasing the remains of the terror he had been drowning into, he took his phone with shaking hands.

He had to try twice before he could properly utter a hello in the receiver.

“Kerry?” Said Rogue’s voice. It was soft, careful.

“Yeah,” he breathed, barely audible. She stayed silent for a long time, and he could hear her inhale and exhale deeply.

“He is dead.”

Silence.

Then there was a strange sound, like a wounded animal, something guttural and not completely human. It took Rogue speaking again for Kerry to understand that the sound was coming from him. The deny had left his throat without his consent or even his awareness as his heart stopped functioning and his mind blanked.

“I wasn’t sure at first, ‘cause Smasher got him and we had intel he’s been taken away. But he died. He is dead.” The merc repeated. Her voice was slightly trembling, but her tone stayed matter of fact the whole time.

Another silence.

“I’m sorry.” She concluded, and her voice broke at last. She hung up before Kerry could reply anything, but he understood.

Kerry let the phone fall between his knees and curled up on himself, gripping his head as pain like he had never known before invaded him. He chocked on his own saliva, coughing wetly as his lungs seemed to collapse and his whole being became a torch of agony. The tears burst out of his eyes without control, and his arms and legs started shaking.

He howled, arching back as anguish expanded from his core to the tip of his fingers. He heard himself beg “No, no please no, don’t.” But he knew. He had known when Johnny had finally showed at The Hammer last night. One look at his face had been enough: he was already half-dead. But of course, even if rationally he had known, nothing could have prepared him for the reality of losing him.

He had kept tabs on the news anxiously as the events proceeded. And when the tower had exploded, Kerry had watched it numbly. Distantly hearing something akin to a mirror shattering inside of him.

But now, it was real, there was no hope of him having pulled the impossible. Rogue had confirmed it and Kerry knew she had waited until she was sure. He had heard the brutal reality in her voice.

His blood boiled inside his veins, fever taking him as he continued to cry. He must have fallen asleep like this, because the next time he woke up, the first lights of the day transpired from behind the blinds. In this strange level of consciousness between dream and reality, he felt a presence next to him, felt the bed dip and a shadow fall over his sleeping form. Lips brushing his cheek and kissing the tears away.

But when he truly opened his eyes, he was alone.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Flawless (5)

masterlist.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, sex, PTSD, background drug use

*****

Riley waited a full week before talking to Nikki again. Probably not her best move, but Nikki didn’t need to be such a baby either. 

Hey we need to book flights, Riley typed. 

The three dots appeared and disappeared several times before Nikki sent back, Come over. Let’s do it together. 

Ok.

An hour later, Riley hesitated before knocking on Nikki’s apartment door. She didn’t know why. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet here she was, standing outside like a timid guest instead of letting herself in like she always did. 

Deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” Riley muttered to herself. Her knuckles collided with the wood in three sharp knocks. 

Muffled footsteps approached the door, and then Riley was met with Nikki’s soft smile. “Hey,” the blonde said. 

“Hey.” Crossing the threshold, Riley didn’t know what to do with her hands. She tried to put them in her front pockets before realizing her jeans didn’t have pockets. Nikki would take crossed arms the wrong way, so Riley clasped her hands in front of her. That felt wrong too. She settled on clasping her hands behind her back, slightly widening her stance like a soldier. 

She’d learned that from an Army guy her mom dated once. 

Nikki grabbed her laptop and set it on the kitchen counter. Looking at the screen, she said, “I started looking at flights before you got here. They’re all pretty expensive because it’s Fashion Week, but I think I’ve found some good options.” 

Riley kept her distance, but she said, “Whatever you think is best.” 

Nikki’s eyes slid to her, disbelieving. “Are you sure?”

Riley tensed. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You always have opinions on flights. Always.” That was true. When it came to running a job, Riley never let someone make a decision without her input. 

But her apology had to start somewhere. If Desi, of all people, thought she needed to apologize, then she couldn’t just sweep this under the rug. And giving Nikki back some control after refusing to do so before seemed like a good place to start. 

“You can pick. I trust you.” Riley shoved down the burning need to look over Nikki’s shoulder as her gut churned, unsteady and anxious without having complete control. She quickly wiped the grimace off her face, but it was too late. Nikki saw it. 

“Riles, are you okay? You look like you’re going to puke.” Nikki studied her with a concerned frown. 

Riley squeaked, “Yep. I’m good.” 

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “You hate this, don’t you?” 

“Just book the fucking flights, Nik.” She fought not to squirm the entire time Nikki worked, only relaxing after the deed was done and Nikki closed her laptop with a soft click. 

“Need anything else?” Riley didn’t miss the clear dismissal in Nikki’s tone. 

“Uh, yeah.” Riley awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, just to give her hands something to do. “Jill told me about that jewelry designer who rented out the Louvre,” she said. “That wasn’t just a casual conversation you two had, was it?” 

Nikki glanced down. “No, it wasn’t. But you already knew that.” 

“Why not just tell me yourself?” 

“Because you wouldn’t have listened to me!” Nikki tried and failed to speak calmly, her normally calm exterior crumbling with each word. “When I questioned you in the kitchen, you pulled rank and basically told me to shut up. If I had suggested an alternative target, you would’ve blown up in my face right in front of everyone!” A pause. “You’ve changed. The Riley I know doesn’t do things like that.” 

Her words stung, but Riley kept her expression neutral, the way she’d learned to do in prison. “Desi thinks I still hold a grudge against you.” 

“Do you?” Nikki asked softly. So, so softly, almost like she was afraid of the answer. 

Nikki’s change in tone and the apprehension lining her eyes was enough to make Riley lower her guard. Not all the way, but just enough to say, “I don’t know. Maybe.” Nikki swallowed. “It’s complicated,” Riley backtracked, desperately trying not to make things worse than they already were. 

“So how do we fix this?” Nikki asked. “Fix us.” 

Talk to her, Jill had said. 

“Talk about it, I guess. Not all today,” Riley quickly added, “but over time.” 

“Okay.” Nikki chewed her bottom lip, and Riley waited, knowing her best friend had something more to say. Nikki’s voice was thick when she finally said, “It’s okay that you’ve changed. Of course you have. It’s not fair of me to hold that against you. And I’m sorry that it’s my fault you had to change to survive in there.” 

Neither of them could say the word aloud. Prison. Riley could barely imagine a future where she could easily say it. 

“Do you really blame yourself?” 

“It’s hard not to.” 

“That’s why you visited me so much, isn’t it? Because you felt guilty.” 

Nikki looked down. “It should’ve been me in there, not you.” 

“Bullshit. I made a choice, and I’d do it again if I had to.” Riley wasn’t entirely sure the last part was true, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Clearly it was, because Nikki met her gaze, eyes brimmed with tears and a sad smile just barely curving her lips. 

“Thank you, Riley.” 

The moment hung heavy in the air between them. Riley felt it then, the gravity pulling her toward Nikki—the same force that drew them together outside that art gallery all those years ago, like the universe was telling her they needed each other. Riley spent much of the last two years cursing the universe, but this...this was the one thing the universe did right. 

Riley closed the distance between them in two long steps, flinging her arms around Nikki and holding her best friend tight, letting the hug convey the last thing she needed to say. 

I’m sorry. 

Nikki clutched her just as tightly, like she was afraid Riley would disappear again if she didn’t hold on tight enough. 

Breaking the silence, Riley asked, “Do you want to go shopping with me?” 

“Like Target and the grocery store shopping? Or maxing-out our credit cards on Rodeo Drive shopping?” Riley snorted. This was normal. Like it was before. 

“I, uhh, tried on all my party clothes the other day, and none of them fit anymore.” Riley tucked her face into Nikki’s neck, not wanting to see the pitying look on her friend’s face. She expected another comment, or for Nikki’s hand to feel her ribs, but neither happened. Instead, Nikki simply pressed a kiss to her temple and continued to hold her, with no sign of letting go any time soon. 

Almost as if she were an anchor, refusing to let Riley get swept out to sea. 

*****

Riley studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The metallic red mini dress she’d bought earlier clung to her curves like she’d been wrapped in plastic. She’d expected pity as she pulled it off the rack, but Nikki had been nothing but reassuring. Even after Riley had sent her from the dressing room again and again to grab a smaller size. 

She’d left with a pile of clothes small enough to fit a wraith-like body like Cage’s. 

Now the team was at an exclusive party at a mansion in the Hills—courtesy of Cage’s endless social connections—for a little fun. And by fun that meant stealing stuff from a notoriously overbearing, sexist, and overall obnoxious director. He had it coming, to say the least. 

Desi had to work— “Drunk assholes won’t bounce themselves out of the club,” she’d snarked—but Jill agreed to tag along. That way she could get her feet wet in a real heist and show the rest of the team what she could do. 

The four of them—Riley, Nikki, Cage, and Jill—huddled off to the side of the spacious living room as Cage explained the plan. “Get a load of this,” she said, a feral grin lighting her face. It was one of the things Riley admired most about Cage, her passion for the job. “Six months ago, this guy paid millions at auction for a miniature painting. But because of the crowd that attends his parties, he hides it in his personal safe in his office so nothing happens to it.” 

Considering the utter debauchery all around her, Riley didn’t blame him. Every guest had either a drink or pills in hand, often both, and she vaguely recognized the actor snorting cocaine off the kitchen counter. In the darker, more private nooks of the mansion, people slunk to the shadows to devour each other in semi-private. Riley made a point not to look too long in those directions. 

Jill clearly hadn’t yet learned to do the same. She asked, wide-eyed, “Whose house is this?”

Nikki gripped her chin and turned Jill’s attention back to the group. “It’s better that you don’t know.” 

Frowning, Jill questioned, “Why?” Always so many questions with her. 

“Because you’ll chicken out.” 

“I will not!” she shrieked. Nikki just smirked. “Okay,” Jill amended in a much quieter tone, “maybe a little.” 

“Anyway,” Cage redirected. “I’ll go into the office first and make sure it’s empty.” And remove anyone who is there, she didn’t have to say. “Riley and Nikki will hack the safe—” they both nodded— “and Jill will make sure you two don’t leave any evidence behind.” 

Riley itched to get her hands on that safe. Stealing that random man’s wallet a week ago had only made her more hungry to get back out there, doing what she did best. She eyed her team. “Don’t get caught.” 

“Don’t get caught,” Nikki and Cage parroted, just like old times, and then Cage melted into the crowd, making her way to the office. 

The remaining trio followed at a much slower pace, pretending to admire the eclectic collection of artwork hanging from the walls. Riley’s cursory glance snagged on a cartoonish painting of a pug driving a Porsche on some tropical highway. The director had bizarre taste. Knowing Nikki was doing the same, Riley kept the office door in her peripheral vision, waiting for Cage to reemerge. 

Meanwhile, Riley pulled her phone from her clutch. To any onlookers, she was merely responding to a text message, but in reality she was hacking into the director’s home security system. It was easy enough, since the whole thing was connected to his WIFI, and the director was dumb enough to leave his network accessible without a password. 

Although, it wasn’t like bypassing a WIFI password would’ve slowed Riley Davis down. 

Riley didn’t understand this guy. He hosted drug-fueled ragers in his mansion, yet also cared enough about security to have interior cameras. Why would he want proof of what happens within these walls? 

Unless…

Gagging, Riley refused to finish that thought.

Cage emerged a few minutes later with a wasted middle-aged woman in tow. She met Riley’s gaze just long enough for two slow blinks. Coast is clear. 

Riley looped the office camera feed so it only showed the empty office, giving them plausible deniability of ever going inside. “Let’s go,” Riley murmured. She slipped into the now-empty office, trusting Nikki and Jill to follow. 

The director’s office, like the rest of the mansion, was ultra-modern, all sharp angles and sleek, black and white furniture. A distorted statue of a giraffe was the only exception, standing beside the door like a sentry. It’s glassy black eyes made it seem like it was watching them. Freezing, Riley checked the angle of the camera she’d looped. It matched the giraffe’s eye-level perfectly. 

Sneaky bastard. The camera was in the giraffe’s eye. Clever, but creepy. 

Embedded in the far wall, behind the director’s messy desk, the safe was relatively new and very high-tech. And while the fancier ones were always harder to crack, user-friendliness came at the cost of security. In the case of this particular safe, the battery compartment for the keypad was part of the keypad itself, so the batteries could be changed easily. But that also meant that by taking out the batteries, someone like Riley would then have direct access to the wires inside the keypad, and thus, an easily hackable way in. 

Nikki slid on a pair of cotton gloves before taking out the batteries and wiring the keypad to Riley’s phone. Riley reached back to brush her curls out of her face, but Jill stopped her with a firm hand on her forearm. 

“Don’t touch your hair. You don’t want any loose strands to fall on the floor.” Riley raised her brows but did as she was told. “You should’ve worn your hair up.” Jill gestured to her own meticulously pinned bun. No stray hairs would be escaping that thing. 

“Good to know.” Riley turned her attention back to cracking the safe. 

It took just under a minute. 

“Losing your touch?” Nikki teased. “That took forever.” 

Riley rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” 

Once the safe was open, they didn’t waste time poking around. All they cared about was the painting, no matter what other valuable things the safe contained. The painting was even smaller than Riley had pictured. The canvas itself could’ve fit in the palm of her hand, and the frame made the whole thing about the size of a birthday card. 

Nikki shoved the painting down the back of her dress, the frame’s sharp angles hidden beneath her ridiculous fringed suede jacket. Considering how well it hid the painting, maybe Riley shouldn’t have made fun of it. But only maybe. It was still ugly. 

Riley and Nikki locked the safe, and the trio slipped out of the office undetected. 

In short, the heist was flawless. 

Nikki immediately peeled off, joining Cage in flitting around the room and saying hi to all sorts of people. Nikki seemed to actually know several of the guests, although not nearly as many as Cage did. Cage was acquainted with everyone worth knowing in LA, plus quite a few who weren’t. 

Riley much preferred to be a fly on the wall, watching but not interacting. 

Jill stayed back with her, mouth agape at all the blatant drug use. “I’ve lived in LA for a long time, so I know that happens here,” she said, “but, like, it’s different actually seeing it, you know?” 

A young couple knocked back a handful of pills with shots of something clear, and Riley grimaced. “You can join in if you want, although I don’t recommend it.” 

“Absolutely not!” Jill squeaked. 

“Good choice.” 

Nikki made her way back to them, slinging her arms around Riley and Jill’s shoulders. “Ready to go?” 

Riley had been ready to go the moment they’d locked the safe. If Jill’s overwhelmed expression was any indicator, she was ready too. 

All that was left to do was collect Cage. 

The blonde stood across the room, batting her eyelashes at an attractive, dark-haired man. Her airy giggle floated above the pulsing music at something the man said. Jill coughed. “Umm…”

Riley quickly put her out of her misery. “It’s fine. Cage flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“She’s just like that,” Nikki added. “Stick with us long enough, and she’ll flirt with you too.” 

“Doesn’t that upset Desi?” Riley and Nikki exchanged a knowing look. “Wait, what am I missing?” Jill hissed. 

“So many questions,” Riley teased, linking arms with both blondes. Nikki laughed, and together they dodged wasted partiers on their way to grab Cage and go home.

~ Tag List ~ (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@macrileyedits​ / @hellishrose​ / @incorret-macgyver-quotes​ / @mylifequotesshowallofthem​ / @thecarrieonokay​

[chelseamount]

Carpool Karaoke - Tom Holland x Reader

BEFORE YOU READ IMPORTANT 

when there are songs

cursive is you

BOLD is James

and This  is both of you

this story was requested by @tomsirishgirlx​ 

---

"Thank you so much for helping me to work today the traffic is crazy" James

"yeah no problem," I say

"you wanna listen to some music?"

"let's do it"

"Are we gonna have a problem?

You got a bone to pick?

You've come so far why now are you pulling on my dick?

I'd normally slap your face off And everyone here could watch But I'm feeling nice Here's some advice Listen up beeyotch"

"I like"

Lookin' hot

Buying stuff They can not

"I like"

"Drinking hard Maxing dad's credit card"

I like

Skippin' gym Scarin' her Screwin' him

I like

Killer clothes

Kickin' nerds in the nose

If you lack the balls You can go play dolls Let your mommy fix you a snack(whoa)Or you could come smoke Pound some rum and coke In my Porsche with the quarterback (whoa, whoa, whoa)

Honey, what you waitin' for? Welcome to my candy store Time for you to prove you're not a loser Anymore And step into my candy store

Guys fall At your feet Pay the check Help you cheat

All you Have to do

Say goodbye

To Shamu

That freak's Not your friend I can tell In the endIf she Had your shot

She would leave You to rot

Course if you don't care Fine, go braid her hair Maybe Sesame Street is on(whoa)

Or forget that creep And get in my jeep

Let's go tear up Someone's lawn (whoa, whoa, whoa)

Honey, what you waitin' for? Welcome to my candy store You just gotta prove You're not a pussy Anymore And step into my candy store

You can join the team

Or you can bitch and moan

You can live the dream

Or you can die alone

You can fly with eagles

Or if you prefer

Keep on testing me

And end up like her

Honey, what you waitin' for?

Shut up, Heather! Step into my candy store

Time for you to prove You're not a lame-ass Anymore And step into my candy store

It's my candy store It's my candy It's my candy store It's my candy It's my candy store It's my candy store

"I think I just got chills there," James says as we laugh "so Y/n it's so great to have you here"

"it's so great to be here it's like a dream come true" I smile

"y/n you are a Broadway singer and actress"

(all of these musicals and movies don't really make sense with the years they were made in but just imagine that they fit the age the reader is if that makes sense"

"yes that's correct"

"so what was your first role like ever"

"ever was Jan in grease"

"really" James looks at me

"yeah I was so happy"

"that's amazing and you were how old"

"fourteen"

"wow and what was your first broadway musical"

"that was heathers as the role of heather chandler as we just heard"

"I love the heathers songs and you are still in contact with some of your co-workers right"

"right I am really close with Barret who played Veronica but we don't get to see each other too much but when we do it's amazing"

"but you two played in mean girls too right"

"right I played Regina George and she played Janis, and that was probably one of my favourite musicals I have been in because obviously mean girls was like my favourite movie when i was younger"

"yeah so what was your favourite song from mean girls"

"oh totally world burn I think it's amazing"

"My name is Regina George And I am a massive deal I will grind you to sand Beneath my Louboutin heel This is what I get for helping Helping someone lame fit in Cady Heron, enjoy your temporary win" I sing "My name is Regina George "Regina is a fugly cow." Hey Cady, how ya like me now? I wanna watch the world burn I got the gasoline I wanna watch the world burn And everyone get mean I wanna watch the world burn I got the gasoline I wanna watch the world burn And everyone get mean Cady, time to watch your back Cady, time to turn and cough Because you took me down But you didn't finish me off My name is Regina George And in case you're keeping score Cady may have won the battle But I will win the war, for I wanna watch the world burn Trang Pak is a grotsky bi-otch! I got the gasoline Ms Norbury is a drug pusher! I wanna make the world burn Janis is a space dyke! Regina is a fugly cow Regina is a fugly cow And you can quote this Ohh. Woah-oh-oh! Who wrote this? Who wrote this? Who wrote this? I wanna watch the world burn I got the gasoline! I wanna watch the world burn And everyone turn Mean So mean! Mean So mean! Mean! I wanna watch the world burn Who wrote this? Who wrote this? I wanna make the world turn So mean! I wanna watch the world burn!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"y/n you were in les misérables too"

"yes I played fantine which was amazing but it hit hard you know it was very much touching

There was a time when men were kind When their voices were soft And their words inviting There was a time when love was blind And the world was a song And the song was exciting There was a time

Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in times gone by When hope was high and a life worth living I dreamed, that love would never die I dreamed that Go

d would be forgiving Then I was young and unafraid And dreams were made and used and wasted There was no ransom to be paid No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night With their voices soft as thunder As they tear your hope apart As they turn your dream to shame He slept a summer by my side He filled my days with endless wonder He took my childhood in his stride But he was gone when autumn came And still, I dream he'll come to me That we will live the years together But there are dreams that cannot be And there are storms we cannot weather I had a dream my life would be So different from this hell I'm living So different now from what it seemed Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"that literally just made me get tears in my eyes," James says as he points to his eyes

we laugh and talk for some time when the thing I have dreaded the most comes up

"so y/n I have to ask you this because everyone wants to know encluding me"

"oh no gosh I know what it is already"

"are you dating tom holland"

"oh god Tom and I are just good friends"

"really because your two have been spotted a lot of times holding hands"

"friends do that"

"sure"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Regina George is the queen bee

She's always dressed up She always wins Spring Fling Queen We're just drones that work for her And then die"James says as he turns on the radio

"My name is Regina George

And I am a massive deal Fear me, love me Stand and stare at me And these, these are real I've got money and looks I am, like, drunk with power This whole school Humps my leg like a chihuahua the prettiest poison you've ever seen I never weigh more than one-fifteen My name is Regina George And I am a massive deal I don't care who you are I don't care how you feel"

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"so y/n, let's get a little serious"

"yes" I say

"in this song, you sing 'i never weigh more than 115' but you said something in a video that Regina doesn't have to be that and that you aren't and i found that amazing"

"thank you I really don't think that she has to be that and I am not and will never be near that and I'm proud of that you should be proud of how you look"

"I love that. you're also in a musical right now hamilton"

"yes I am in England"

"so any plans for what you are going to do after hamilton"

"yes but it's a secret for now

"Okay but you play one of the Schuyler sisters"

"yes I play Eliza"

"and you're amazing in it I saw it some time ago and I love it as I wrote to you"

"it still warms my heart"

"but my biggest dream is being in hamilton but as one of the Schuyler sisters"

"mmm-hmm" I laugh

"I wanna be angelica"

"you can be James"

There's nothing rich folks love more Than going downtown and slumming it with the poor They pull up in their carriages and gawk at the students in the common Just to watch 'em talk

Take Philip Schuyler, the man is loaded Uh oh, but little does he know that His daughters, Peggy, Angelica, Eliza Sneak into the city just to watch all the guys at

Work, work

Angelica!

Work, work

Eliza!

And Peggy!

Work, work

The Schuyler sisters

Angelica!

Peggy!

Eliza!

Work!

Daddy said to be home by sundown

Daddy doesn't need to know

Daddy said not to go downtown

Like I said, you're free to go

But—look around, look around The revolution's happening in New York

New York

Angelica

Work!

It's bad enough Daddy wants to go to war

People shouting in the square

It's bad enough there'll be violence on our shore

New ideas in the air

Look around, look around

Angelica, remind me what we're looking for

She's looking for me!

Eliza, I'm looking for a mind at work (work, work) I'm looking for a mind at work (work, work) [x2] Woa-oah

Woa-oah

Work!

Ooh, there's nothing like summer in the city Someone in a rush next to someone lookin' pretty Excuse me, miss, I know it's not funny But your perfume smells like your daddy's got money Why you slummin' in the city in your fancy heels? You searchin' for an urchin who can give you ideals?

Burr, you disgust me

Ahh, so you've discussed me I'm a trust fund, baby, you can trust me

I've been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine So men say that I'm intense or I'm insane You want a revolution? I want a revelation So listen to my declaration:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident That all men are created equal"

And when I meet Thomas Jefferson (unh!) I'mma compel him to include women in the sequel

Work!

Look around, look around at how Lucky we are to be alive right now Look around, look around at how Lucky we are to be alive right now

History is happening in Manhattan and we

Just happen to be in the greatest city in the world In the greatest city in the world!

---------------------------------

"All my dreams just came true," James says as I laugh at his comment "okay now time for something a little different"

"oh gosh," I say "what is it"

"we're going to take a lie detector test"

"nooo"

after some time I'm all strapped up while a man is on a computer checking whether I speak the truth or not

"okay let's start out by some to test if it works"

"okay"

"is your name Y/n"

"yes"

"true"

"are you currently in hamilton"

"yes"

"true"

"did you play Regina George"

"yes"

"she's telling the truth"

"Great let's start easy so...Y/n"

"yes"

"Which one of your castmates is your favourite"

"Barrett"

"true"

"great, y/n am I your favourite host"

"oh absolutely"

"true"

"yes you had to get that right, okay this one is the best one are you dating tom holland"

shit

"no"

"lie"

"YES I KNEW IT I KNEW IT OMG YES" he smiles

"no that's the truth," I say

"you can't lie on accident"

"well fuck me then"

"how long"

"not long"

"lie"

"okay five years almost"

"WHAT," James says in shock

"I'm sorry we just didn't want our relationship the get ruined by hate"

"five years"

"yeah"

"When were you going to tell everyone when you had seven kids"

"haha no I don't know when but I guess it's out now"

"well some people are going to get heartbroken, someone gets hurt"

-----------------------------

Ice queen, that's what you see It's what they all expect from me But it's all show Face it, you used me You saw the sexy clothes My supermodel pose But did you know?Was I a game to you? Was I way to be cool? I truly cared Was I the fool? It's fine for you It's fine to flirt It's fine 'Till someone gets hurt 'Till someone gets hurt

----------------------------------

"Y/n it was amazing to have you here"

"it was amazing to be here James, even tho I now have to go home to Tom and tell him the news, gosh this is so fucked"

"wait you guys live together too"

"bye James" I run out the door

--------------------------------

"Baby I'm home" I smile

"hi love," Tom says as he walks over to me and kisses me, gosh I missed him

"I missed you," I say

"I missed you"

"you love me right"

"more than anything my - wait what did you do"

"well"

[beanfic]

Don’t tell my dad!

Pairing: peter parker x stark!reader 

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: you overhear your Dad’s intern talking about a party, and you decide to sneak in with your best friend

Warnings: underage drinking, poorly made decisions, rebellious teens

Author’s note: it’s not really peter parker x reader, more like in a platonic friend way? I just had a dream about this happening, so I decided to write about it :) Also meet Kenzie! She is an OC and I decided to add her into this as y/n’s bff. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

You had heard about the party from your Dad’s newest intern, Peter Parker, when asked about his weekend plans. He mentioned he was attending a party at a friend’s house, and you were interested immediately. You had talked to Peter a few times while passing in the tower. He was a nice guy, the same age as you, also. Both of you were 17. He didn’t strike you as the party type, but you weren’t going to question it.

You had been raised in the tower since you were five, the year your Dad had taken custody of you after the death of your Mom. Living with the Avengers and bearing the last name  ‘Stark’ meant that you never got a chance to go to school with other kids. Instead, you were homeschooled, first by your Dad, but now you were learning the complex subjects from Dr. Banner. You didn’t surprise anyone when you showed the same interest in engineering at a young age, being a Stark and all. You were greatly appreciative about the challenging schooling you received, but you regretted not developing the social skills a normal teenager would have.

You have a few friends including a best one named Kenzie, a daughter of your Father’s friend but that didn’t help with socializing. You wanted to experience a high school party, just like the ones you had seen in the movies. It was a perfect plan, you could find out the address somehow, and go along with Kenzie. Kenzie was also homeschooled but was more normal than you could ever feel. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Kenz said as she sat beside your bed, strapping her shoes.

“Yes! My Dad is out tonight and I had FRIDAY do some research, and this guy, Flash, is known for throwing huge parties where multiple high schools go. It’s not like we are going to see anyone we know.”

“What about your Dad’s intern? Isn’t that how you heard about the party?”

You shrug, “He doesn’t seem like the party type so I doubt he will even show up, and if he does I’m sure we can find a way to avoid him. We can just find a corner to drink in.”

“This is so risky, Y/N!” Kenzie grabs your arm and shakes it.

“I know, it’s exciting.” You shove Kenzie off of you and you flash an annoyed smile. 

“Ready?” Kenzie stands up and you nod. Both of you tiptoe down to the garage, avoiding Steve who was usually in the training facility at night. Fortunately, he wasn’t there.

“Should we take the Mercedes?” you ask Kenz who look over at you with wide eyes.

“You have a Mercedes? You have options?”

You giggle, “My Dad lets me drive any of his cars except his Lambo. We can also take the Porsche.”

“I’m good with the Mercedes, we’re trying to lay low! Plus how are we getting back if we both want to drink?”

“My Dad has programmed FRIDAY into each of his cars so it can do autopilot,” and right on cue, the car lit up with FRIDAY’s voice.

“Hello, Y/N Stark. Where are we going tonight?” 

“Whoahhhh,” Kenz gasps under her breath. You repeat the address that FRIDAY had found back at the car.

“I’ll drive, FRIDAY.” You grab the wheel and rev the engine a little before pulling out of the garage into the cold streets and the starry night sky. 

“I’m nervous,” Kenzie admits as you park down the street from the house. It was big and lit up with multi-colored lights. It was on an isolated street down a private drive, which was a good thing because with how loud it already was from the outside, you were certain police would show up at some point. 

“It’s okay, I just need to make sure no one recognizes me and that we avoid Peter.”

“Sounds easy enough, sure, yeah, whatever you say” Kenzies’ tone is filled with sarcasm but you just roll your eyes at her. 

“I’m not that famous.”

“No, of course not! Just the rightful heir of Stark Industries, no big deal!”

“C’mon, let’s just get inside and grab a drink.” You open the car door and are greeted by the chilly night air. You walk up to the angular house, flashing a smile at the group of preppy looking kids playing beer pong on the huge and perfectly manicured front lawn. The music pounds out of the crack in the door as you push it open. A kid in a colorful floral hawaain shirt spills beer over himself as he stumbles past you in the hallway. Immediately, you know you're in the right place. 

“FRIDAY, check for Peter,” you whisper to the black glasses on your face. It was a good thing fashion glasses were in style, but you think to yourself that these might look a bit outdated. “Hm?” Kenzie turns to look at you. You point to your glasses and she mouths an “ohhh”. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to hear her over the music. 

“We’re good, no Peter yet. I’m sure the drinks will be in the kitchen, right?” you ask and Kenz nodded. It was difficult to maneuver through the sweaty, heaving crowd but eventually, you discover the kitchen. There's a sign above the granite counter that says “live, laugh, love”. These people fuckin suck. You notice a crappy cardboard sign that says “Shot Station” written in bold sharpie.

“Should we do shots?” Kenzie asks you nervously.

“I’m down,” you smirk, letting the Stark in you take over. You remember your Dad’s famous words in your head “never do something I would do when I was your age.” Doing something you knew you weren’t supposed to do made you bubble with excitement.

You take lead and grab two tiny red solo shot glasses and fill them up with a bottle of Malibu someone pulled from the fridge. It smells strongly of coconut and alcohol.

“To being adventurous!” Kenzie shouted, raising her cup for a toast.

“Being adventurous!” you yell back, bringing the cup to your lips and letting the warm liquid slide down your throat.

“What now?” Kenzie asks.

“Let’s make a mixed drink to carry around with us and we can go explore the rest of the house. FRIDAY told me there is a game room!” 

“Okay!” Kenzie agrees. You throw some lemonade and the rest of the malibu into a bigger cup, and Kenzie does the same. You hope that the drinks are for everyone, after all they are just sitting out so you don’t worry too much.

“Sorry, I made ‘em kind of strong!” you hand Kenz the drink and she takes a sip, eyes going wide.

“That’s delicious!” 

“That’s why mixed drinks are dangerous.”

The two of you wander around the house, making sure to watch for Peter until you find the game room. Both of your jaw’s drop when you first open the door. There are pool tables, foosball, ping pong machines, and tables for card games.

“Hey! We’re playing a game of rage cage, want to join?” a slurred voice calls out towards the two of you. 

“Us?” you and Kenz look at each other.

“Yes!” 

You look over at Kenz with a questioning look, and she raises her eyebrows in a confirming manner. The people seemed nice, and you didn’t recognize any of them. 

“How do we play?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink. A taller blonde guy, probably around your age as well, shuffles the cards and smiles down at you.

“You never played?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, feeling the heat bleed into your cheeks.

“It’s easy, you just try to make the ping pong ball into your cup before the person next to you, and if you don’t make it you have to chug the drink and try to make it again. If you get stacked then you have to drink.”

“Seems simple enough,” you muttered.

“Let’s do it!” Kenzie cheered, causing a few others to cheer with her. You wish you had the same charisma as her, but maybe the alcohol was already playing a role. You take another large gulp of your drink hoping you would feel something soon. 

The game was confusing at first, and both you and Kenz ended up chugging about three glasses of beer before understanding. You both got a hold of it and ended up doing pretty well. 

It was down to the last cup, the bitch cup as they called it, and it was your turn next. If you didn’t get the ball in the tower of red solo cups before the person next to you, you had to chug the entire cup of randomly mixed alcohol. 

“No!” you shouted as the person next to you stacked their cup on top of yours.

“You gotta drink the bitch cup, bitchhh!” Kenzie sloppily points her finger into your shoulder. You looked over at her, and you could sense she was pretty drunk.

Fine!” you grab the bitch cup and everyone starts chanting “chug! Chug! Chug!” and you down the nasty drink. 

“holyyy,” the everyone at the table all gasped at how fast you drank the bitch cup. You wiped your mouth and smiled with glee. You were a Stark, after all.

“I need airrrr,” Kenzie leaned on your shoulder.

“Me toooo,” the room was spinning as you started to walk out of the room, into the hallway and back towards the stairs.

“I feel so funny,” Kenzie giggled clumsily. “I feel like I can dance in the… in the sky!” She starts spinning in circles, flapping her arms like a bird. 

You laugh until you can’t breathe as you watch your best friend drunkenly dance her way upstairs. Your stomach is spinning with alcohol, and you need fresh air, quickly.

“I feel sick,” you mumble to Kenzie. 

“But I wanna dance!” she grabs your hands as  you reach the main floor where the music is pumping and everyone is swaying together in synchronized rhythm.

“Kenzzzz,” you groan. 

“Y/N Stark, you have a blood alcohol concentration level of .228. It is best you get along home.” FRIDAY’s voice sounds in your ear. You grab your glasses and shove them in your pocket. You can hear FRIDAY objecting as her voice is muffled in your jeans.

“I need to-,” you start to tell Kenzie as you feel the contents of your stomach start to fill up to your throat and you grab your mouth as you tumble out the back door to the dark patio before falling over into the damp grass. You spill your guts into a bush the moment you reach the backyard. You know that a ton of people probably are watching you right now, but, at this point? You could care less. You wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

“Y/N?” a familiar voice calls out behind you.

“Peter!” you whip around quickly, causing you to trip over your own foot and spin right into him. Peter’s arms were around you instantly, keeping you from hitting the concrete.

“What are you doing here?” he helps you stand up. 

“Please don’t tell my Dad!” you manage through clumsy lips.

“I won’t, Y/N.” He wipes a strand of hair away from your face as he studies you. You feel uncomfortable with his gaze.

“Y/N? Where are yo-oh.” Kenzie stops mid-sentence as she sees Peter holding your shoulders.

“She threw up,” Peter looks over at your friend.

“I thought FRIDAY was supposed to tell you when he was nearby,” Kenzie tries to whisper to you but fails as Peter hears her.

“What?” he looks over at you as you grab the glasses from your pocket, showing him them guiltily.

“Ah, I won’t tell your Dad! I promise! You should go home though, you’re really sick Y/N.”

“I’m fineee,” you lean into Peter’s arms, resting your head on his strong shoulder.

“Erm.” Peter’s cheeks blush, he had barely talked to you and now you were drunkenly resting in his arms.

“I wanna danceee, are you drunk too Peter?” you ask him.

“I don’t, um, drink, but I really think you and your friend should go back home. Did you drive here?”

“We took a Mercedes!” Kenzie giggled.

“Right, well how about I drive you two back home?” he suggests.

“FRIDAY can driveee,” you hiccup. Peter couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I think it would be best if a human made sure you two got home safe.”

You pout, “But Spide-” but Peter’s hand comes closing in on your mouth before you could finish your sentence.

“Let’s go!” Peter grabs your hand and Kenz’s arm and pulls both of you towards the very recognizable Mercedes. 

“Hi, Peter, headed to the tower?” FRIDAY’s voice chirps over the speakers. Kenz was in the back seat laying down. You stared over at Peter, taking in the brown curls that lay gently on his forehead. 

The drive back to the compound was short, but maybe that was because you had closed your eyes and dozed off a couple of times. There wasn’t music playing either, so the silence was only filled with the soft snores of Kenzie in the backseat.

“We’re here,” Peter shakes your shoulder softly, trying to wake you up from your dazed state. You could barely keep your eyes focused on the brunette in front of you. 

“Kenzie” you mumble but you hear her stretching and yawning in the back.

“I’ll help you too upstairs, you’re on the third floor right, Y/N?”

You nodded, “Next to my Dad’s room.”

Peter nods, shutting the driver’s door and walking over towards the passenger side to help you out. Kenzie ends up being in a better state than you. She was able to walk but you rely on Peter to even stand up. 

“You’re cute, Peter.” The words slips off your tongue as you all manage to stand upright in the elevator.

“Erm, thank you.” He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. The elevator doors open with a ding to the third floor. 

“Well, this is a surprise,” your Dad’s stern voice greets you. He walks into view with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“Damnit,” you groan. You keep your eyes on the ground, avoiding your Dad’s glare.

“Hi Mister Stark, I found Y/N and Kenzie at the party and thought I should get them home safely. I made sure nothing bad happened to them!” Peter rapid fired.

“I think I will take it from here, thank you Peter,” your Dad patts his shoulder, looking up at you knowingly. 

“See you around,” you slur. You almost begin to stumble over when Peter removes his arm that was holding you up, but your Dad catches you. 

“Whoa there, are we drunk?” His voice has a hint of sarcasm in it. 

“I don’t knowww, am I?” you giggle. 

“You should sleep, same with you Kenzie. Do your parents know what happened tonight?”

“No, sir,” she shook her head. 

“I won’t tell them, but take it from a parent. Being honest is better than keeping secrets. You can sleep in the guest room, I’m going to go take Y/N here, to bed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kenzie walks down the hall towards the familiar guest room. You feel a bit guilty that you had put her in this position, but you were not expecting to get as blasted as you were. Your Dad practically carries you to your room and you lay down on the bed, feeling the warm pull of sleep immediately. 

“Y/N,” your Dad begins to speak. 

“Mmm, tired,” you mumble. You lay in the fetal position, head on the pillow and eyes already closed. You can hear your dad sigh heavily and feel a heavy blanket being pulled up and over your body. 

“We will talk about this tomorrow and discuss consequences, but for now I’ll let you sleep. Love you, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

“I know, but we will talk tomorrow. Get some rest.”

“Okay, love you Dad.” 

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and even though you were mentally prepared for the lecture from your father, nothing would have prepared you for the massive hangover you were about to be greeted with in the morning. 

[captainscanadian]

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 6)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Just when Bucky had thought he was hopeless, fate had other plans for the two of you. 

Word Count: 2800+

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader

Warnings: A little angst, injury & pure dumbassery. 

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup​‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I would like to dedicate this part (and all others) to @dramadreamer14​ because she just gets me, okay? I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

As human beings, we all have an inherent need to experience some kind of physical contact with others. This could be a simple handshake, or the tightest hug that lasts a good minute. 

In medical school, we were taught that touch deprivation could often lead to an indescribable loneliness among other mental health concerns - including depression, anxiety, sleeplessness and a lack of attachment securities. 

Physical touch helps with the release of happy chemicals in our brain, and we all end up becoming a little less hopeless then we were before.  

When Ethan and I broke up, I found myself having a hard time sleeping at night. I was constantly tossing and turning through the night, barely getting any sleep and regretting it by the time I made it into morning rounds. 

At first I thought it was because the bed was getting cold without Ethan being there. I didn’t miss him; he was a dick and I know I deserved so much better than that cheating bastard. But something just felt so wrong, and I did not know what it was until months later. 

What I hadn’t realized though, was that I was just unbelievably touch starved. I was longing to be held in someone’s arms, preferably Ethan’s at the time since the wounds were still fresh. But I was still longing. I needed the attachment security. 

Looking back now, I know that I may have had more than one reason for sleeping with Dr. Winston. Some people may assume that I slept with my attending to get in on a surgery, which is partially true though, I won’t deny it. My professional endeavors do take precedence over my personal benefits. But the real reason why I did it was beyond that. I just happened to realize that I was just so fucking touch starved. 

Jake knew it too. 

The moral of the story though… we all need to be touched, to be held in someone’s arms, to feel loved. I don’t know if what Jake and I have is love. The strings are not really attached. But I think it is safe to say that I no longer feel deprived of touch - all thanks to him. 

After all, I guess I’m not as hopeless as I thought I was. 

When Rosie Bender had entered her friend’s house that evening, she had half expected to see him to be out and about the house. It came as a surprise to her that Bucky Barnes had even taken a few days off of work in the first place, as she had always assumed that he was a complete workaholic. 

But she understood that after what had happened at your ten year reunion last week, he needed to take some time off to come to terms with his own emotions. After all, he hadn’t taken it all that well when she had found him crying in that parking lot after you had driven away with Pietro and Wanda. 

Karma, she’d thought it was, because she remembered how she had found you crying the same way in your high school’s parking lot after your final fight in the cafeteria. It served him right for the way he had treated you, but that did not mean she could care less about him. All she could do was offer him some comfort at a time like that, even though she knew that he deserved every bit of it. 

Nevertheless, when she entered his home, she had assumed that he would have made use of his time off by taking care of a few chores around the house. He had always been productive with his time. 

But instead she was greeted by the house that looked more like a pig sty, while Bucky was passed out on his living room couch with a hardcover copy of Hopeless with Benefits in his hands. The first two books, Hopeless Romantic and Hopelessly in Love, were sitting atop his coffee table, along with several empty bottles of alcohol and take out containers. 

“Oh… shit.” She shook her head as she made her way over to wake him up, her eyes filled with pity of all things.

Damn, he was hopeless - no pun intended. Although a part of herself was feeling shitty for not anticipating that Bucky would voluntarily take days off from work and spend his time binge-reading your books, she could not deny that he was a bit more smarter than she had given him credit. Surely, she was aware of what you had told him. He had spit it all out to her after getting a few drinks in his system. 

To think that you had told him that your writing had helped you express your emotions and he had taken to the time to read your books because he wanted to feel what you had felt. Hell, that was so fucking romantic. 

But she wouldn’t place her bets on you ever coming to realize that. She knew that you had made it clear about what you wanted from him, and she agreed wholeheartedly with your point of view. Perhaps, Bucky was just too late - and he was an idiot. 

Rosie was quick to grab her phone and speed dial her girlfriend, noting that he was certainly in need of an intervention. “Hey, babe… I’m at your brother’s.” She frowned at the sight of him. “You need to get over here right now. He’s… he’s hopeless.” 

“I can’t believe you flew all the way out here because I drunk dialed you after my high school reunion.” You called out as you poured two cups of coffee before walking out to your porch, handing one of the mugs to your unexpected visitor who had arrived at your doorstep that morning. 

“I didn’t come here because you drunk dialed me.” Harry chirped as he turned over to look at you, accepting the mug from you and taking a sip. “I came here because you drunk dialed me and told me that you wanted to sell me the movie rights to your books. Considering that you’ve had me chasing you around for those rights for years, I just wanted to make sure that you were going to hold up to that deal when you were sober.” 

You rolled your eyes at his words before shaking your head. “Oh fuck off, Harry.”

“No, really… that’s why I came.” 

“Wanda told you, didn’t she?” You sighed as you took a sip of your coffee. “That I cried to her about my ex and his baby.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. “She mentioned that you said something along the lines of… who gets to have a happy ending.” 

“Well, I was drunk.” You admitted, laughing softly. “And I had just given Bucky a piece of my mind. I was bitter about everything.” 

“As I said before, rightfully so.” He repeated, leaning against the porch and sighing. “So, if you really were serious about selling me the movie rights, does that mean you’ve finally figured out how it ends? Speaking of happy endings and all...” 

You bit down on your bottom lip before shaking your head. “I don’t know how it ends, at least not yet. But I think Hope’s in a good place now. She’s home, and she’s got herself a job at the local hospital. She might be far away from Jake now, but she was doing just fine without him… and she’s surrounded by old friends and certain unwanted memories. She just needs to figure out what she wants.” 

“I think she already knows what she wants.” He pointed out with a smirk on his lips. “But she’s just too stubborn to admit it.” 

You raised your eyebrow at Harry, shooting him a quick glare. 

“Oh come on, you know I’m right.” 

“And that’s what I hate about you.” You admitted, because you knew damn well what Hope Anderson wanted. 

She might not need it, but she wants it. Just like how you might not need him, but you wanted him too. You wanted him so badly, because you were one hopeless fucking romantic. 

As much as you hated to admit it, your writer’s block really was getting the worst of you. Sure, you had figured out what you wanted to write when it came to the plot of the final novel. But getting there was the problem. You just did not know how to get where you wanted to be, figuratively and quite literally speaking. 

Having found a hard time writing the scenes between Hope Anderson and her first love, Jason Prescott, which was meant to make up a majority of the novel, you found yourself shutting down your laptop for the umpteenth time that week and retreating to paint the rest of the house.

You had certainly used up the time that you weren’t writing to paint the majority of the interior of the house, and it was safe to say that it looked much more vibrant now that it had been when you had first arrived. But as much as you had transformed the inside of the house, the outside looked just the same. So, you figured that your next mission was to paint the exterior of your childhood home before you get hit by the winter weather. 

It was quite ambitious, really. Considering that your experience in house-flipping was quite non-existent, you were quite impressed that you had done something with the place. You had added your personal touches to the house that your mother had owned with pride. Perhaps this really was your way of honouring her. 

Nevertheless, you wondered if it was possible to paint the exterior of the house, given that all you had was a few buckets of paint and a ladder that you had borrowed from Nick. Not to mention that there was only one of you. Was this really a one woman’s job? 

You were not going to let this discourage you, so you found yourself dressing up in several layers and climbing up the ladder to start your next painting task. What the hell were you doing? 

Nick Fury had noticed you drag the ladder out to your driveway after covering up the Porsche, which was why he had found himself watching you in utter disbelief. “Is it just me or have you finally gone bonkers?” 

You rolled your eyes at the old man’s words as you continued to apply a coat of primer onto the wall. “I finished up with the inside of the house, so I thought I’d get a head start on the outside.” You responded with a shrug. 

“Y/N, should I remind you that it’s the middle of November?” He scolded, crossing his arms against his chest. “Who paints the house in November?!” 

“Why? Is there some cardinal rule not to paint a house in November that I don’t know about?”

You knew that the man had a point, but you were also quite stubborn… and bored. It’s not like you had any company, other than Nick. 

You hadn’t been returning Rosie Bender’s calls ever since the reunion. Not that you had anything against her. You knew that she had meant well when she had invited you to the reunion, but you could not risk running into Bucky again because of her, knowing that she was dating Becca Barnes, after all. 

Pietro and Wanda had left Shelbyville right after your reunion, as they did not plan on staying for Thanksgiving. You understood why they wouldn’t want to stay in this town for so long, neither would you… but what choice did you have in that matter? You had promised yourself that you would not leave town until you finished that bloody novel, and you were quite stubborn about that. 

While Harry had paid you a surprise visit the other day, even he had only stayed with you for a few hours. He wanted to get back to Los Angeles and make the arrangements for you to sign off on those movie rights. He seemed very excited that you had come around, to be honest. Hopeless had been his dream project, as he had already had in mind who he wanted to cast as the leads. 

“How about Anastasia Belle as our leading lady. I think she’d make a wonderful Hope Anderson.” He had suggested, causing you to raise your eyebrow at him. “I haven’t worked with her in recent years, but we do have history together.” 

Anastasia Belle was now a well-known actress in Hollywood, but it was Harry who had casted her as the younger version of his leading lady in the film that gave him his big break. 

“She’s like the real life Anna Scott now, isn’t she?” 

“Comparing her to Anna Scott is a bit of a stretch.” He admitted. “But I do plan on casting Julia Roberts as the mother… if that tickles her fancy, of course.” 

Once again, you hated this man for knowing you so well. 

You had been pulled away from your thoughts when you heard the sound of a car pull up to Nick’s driveway, making the man let out a groan. 

“I keep telling this kid that I don’t need him to make house calls, but Carol and Maria have got him by the neck.” 

You turned over to look towards Nick’s driveway to see Bucky Barnes get out of his Mercedes, dressed in a pair of black jeans, a blue henley, and a bomber jacket. In his hands he held what looked like a medical bag and in his eyes, a twinkling smile as he leaned against his car and looked towards your driveway. 

“Good morning, Nick.” He smiled at your beloved next door neighbour, his eyes curiously darting up towards you before he turned back to look at Nick in pure confusion. Why in the world were you painting your house in November? 

It’s been a few weeks since he’d last seen you, and you had made yourself very clear that night. You wanted nothing to do with him, so he might as well respect your wishes despite the fact that he was longing so badly to make conversation with you. 

He remembered the way you looked that night, in your jeans and your sweater, Your hair and make up looking simple yet beautiful, just like you. He could not deny that you looked gorgeous, in your denim overalls that were stained with paint, and the plaid shirt you had worn over it, he recognized it. It used to belong to your mother. 

You were quick to return your gaze toward the wall and continued with your painting. You could care less about his presence, and it seemed that he was here for work. Who cared if he was standing in the driveway that was adjacent to yours, staring up at you as you did your best to avoid his eyes on you. You could feel his eyes on you. 

“Dr. Barnes.” The old man cleared his throat, sensing the tension that lingered in the air as you began to paint rather aggressively in hopes of convincing yourself that you did not bother about Bucky being right there. 

Nope, you did not care at all. You were just busy painting the outside of your house, and paying attention to whoever was paying a visit to your next door neighbour was none of your business. 

But Nick knew you too damn well to know that you were trying to ignore your childhood best friend’s presence in your shared driveway. After all, he had heard the stories of your fallout and your resulting departure from your mother. 

“She seems to be doing quite well on her own.” Nick noted. “Let’s head inside, shall we?” 

Bucky gave him a nod as he followed him towards his house, but he had barely made it inside when he heard a loud thud that was followed by your shrill scream. 

“Y/N!” He was quick to run towards you, seeing that you were now laying on your driveway as the ladder had toppled over. 

“OH FUCKING HELL!” You cried in pain, having landed on your ankle. You had felt it twist. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” Your eyes glazed over at the pain, but as you laid there unable to move, you were greeted by the worried doctor who had come to your rescue. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, frowning at the sight of you. “Are you hurt? How are you feeling? Talk to me…” 

Perhaps it was his doctor instincts that had made him rush to your aid, but he could not deny that he hated to see you in pain. 

“It’s… my ankle.” You winced, your hand clutching tightly onto his and squeezing it in hopes that the pain would go away. “I landed on my ankle and it fucking hurts.” 

[allie1804-fan]

Kerense Part 2

This is a continuation of Kerensa - read Part 1 here

Kerensa (Part 1)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Warnings : Just like Keanu in these fics, I don't actually know any of the other real people portrayed here so my versions of them are all supposition!

LA Home?

After a couple of weeks, they moved on to LA. Kerry was Flabbergasted by the size and style of his home. It had a cool feel due to the size of the rooms and the large pieces of art in the main living area which had vast bi-fold doors leading out to the patio and pool. He was most excited to show her his pond with Koi Carp and the breathtaking view.

His office and bedroom were warmer in style, more in keeping with the man and she was thrilled with the kitchen which his sister had designed with herself in mind for when she visited and wanted to cook or for Keanu when he had a caterer come in.

On their first night, they ordered take out and ate outside by the pool. They were both tired from travelling but he promised to take her out to some favourite haunts soon. His bigger priority was making her and Scout feel at home and welcome.

That started with meeting his mum. Having heard a lot about her before he left, his mother, in particular, was very keen to make her acquaintance. She invited them over and had a meal catered.

She was welcoming but there was an edge of scrutiny in her gaze and her questions.

In the car on the way home, Kerry pointed it out.

It’s just like Jason Robards says in Parenthood. “It never ends”

“What?”

“Well, your mum was clearly concerned I might be some kind of leach!”

“Kerry, she thinks that about everyone I meet, but especially women. But she liked you, I could tell. And you bonded over all your English connections right?”

“I guess!”

Next up was Karina who had them over for Thanksgiving. She was more easygoing than her mother and they had a very relaxed day with Keanu and his brother-in-law bonding over the football and Kerry and Karina enjoying working together in the kitchen.

In the weeks running up to Christmas, their projects were on hiatus and they focussed on getting Kerry acclimatised to LA. Keanu bought her a car (she was not up for driving his Porsche) and they went on bike rides up PCH, took Scout on hikes in local parks and continued her introductions to his friends.

Key amongst them was Alex Winter and his family. They spent a great day on the beach at Malibu with him, his wife and their 2 youngest sons. Alex took a cute pic of Kerry and Keanu there - She had straggly wet hair from messing around in the sea and was wearing a loose shirt over her swimming costume. Her arms were draped around Keanu’s neck and they were both grinning broadly. She liked it so much, she had it printed and framed and placed it on their dressing table. It was one way she could try to settle in.

She certainly felt safe and welcome in his home, but, truth be told, not really at home

Some of that was connected to Scout. There was an inner courtyard where Scout could chill in a shady spot and you could walk him along the road nearby but only in the evening when the surface would be cool enough. To walk the dog, you really needed to go to a park, beach or further out into hills. It wasn’t just a stone’s throw away like at Sennen.

Also, in one sense, the house felt huge but at the same time, claustrophobic. It was curious that she could feel hemmed in despite the space and open view at the back - it was like you couldn’t touch the nature that was so near at hand and when she felt like that, the waves of nostalgia for Sennen were powerful.

Another challenge she faced and hadn’t really expected had been the number of female friends Keanu had who, it was clear, were past sexual partners. It wasn’t that anyone said anything to her, least of all him for whom it was all just water under the bridge, but some of them had an unmistakable body language towards him, while others displayed a certain possessiveness that she found, if not threatening then at least challenging.

She knew he’d had a different life from her, longer in single mode, less settled in one place and with a lot of opportunity to be promiscuous, so she knew she had to accept it, but she also struggled to imagine still hanging out with people you’d been so intimate with in the past as it had been a very rare experience for her.

Fortunately, Karina was a bit of an ally in at least filling in the gaps as to who was or wasn’t an ex. Kerry didn’t want to come off as jealous or obsessive, so asking Keanu was a no-no, at least at first. One day, Karina had come over to talk Christmas food and caught Kerry staring off into the distance.

“Hey, where have you gone?” Karina asked her.

Wha …? oh sorry, nowhere, I’m right here”

“ oh no, not falling for THAT. What did he do?”

“Keanu? Nothing. Honest.”

“Kerry?”

“Honest he didn’t. It’s just, errm Autumn came over last night”

“Ughhh”

“What?”

“Nothing, she’s just not my favourite of his exes that still hangs around him”

“Oh so she IS an ex, I wasn’t sure and he didn’t say so”

“He wouldn’t, to him it’s ancient history - and it is. They properly dated in the 90s and then I’m pretty sure she was, you know…. A friend …..”

“With benefits?”

“Yeah, sometime in the 2000s but not in the past few years. Was she civil to you?”

“Yeah yeah, she was just quite, erm touchy with him and sort of “

“Possessive?”

“Not exactly, but she made sure to mention things from way back several times as if to remind me and him that I’m the new kid. I mean maybe I was being over-sensitive, it was weird”

“Naah, that’s her thing. She didn’t manage to clinch him and that still riles her so she hangs in there with the “trusty oldest friend” card.

“Yeah but she’s not his oldest friend right? Brenda is from school and that lovely lady Clare is from before her time right?”

“Right, I mean Autumn is from way back but she’s not the unique one she likes to think.”

Mostly, the exes were subtle in their comments or behaviour but China Chow came close to making Kerry spit her drink out at a Christmas party when she was a bit drunk. She was saying how happy she was to see Keanu happy.

“And you my friend are a lucky girl, he’s good between the sheets too huh?, hic!”

The following morning Keanu and Kerry were lying in bed with a coffee, nursing hangovers and doing a party post-mortem.

“Oh my God, China was drunk wasn’t she?!” Keanu snorted.

“I’ll say!” She replied rolling her eyes

“What?”

“Have you had sex with all of your female friends?!” She asked pointedly.

“Oh my god, what did she say?”

“Oh, how happy she is for you …..”

“Mmmmm, so?”

“And how lucky I am….and how good you are between the sheets”

It was Keanu’s turn to almost spit out his coffee.

“That must have been awkward.!”

“Well would have been worse if we weren’t both at least a little drunk”

“Do you mind?” “That I have a past?” he clarified when she looked questioningly at him.

“No, I just, I never had an ex who I still hung out with after we split so it’s a little weird for me. And they’re all so, you know, LA glamorous.”

“Come ‘ere.” He said pulling her close after seeing the uncertainty in her eyes.

“It’s you I love, you I want to wake up with every morning and hold in my arms each night. And they're so called glamour is no match for your beauty. And, it’s like, over 10 years ago that I was with any of the friends I still see, sexually. Kerry, I promise. Are we ok?”

“yeah, we’re good” she reassured.

And they were. Christmas was around the corner and Kerry enjoyed shopping for gifts, getting a tree and decorating the house. They placed the bird decoration for Ava on the tree and he gave her two angels to hang for her babies and a Celtic fertility symbol in hope of a future as parents. They spent Xmas Day with his mother and Karina and Keanu went on his usual Boxing Day bike ride with old friends while Kerry went to the cinema with Karina.

On 29th they headed back to the UK, where they spent New year with her sister and family and 10 days having catch-ups with friends in London and Cornwall.

By mid-January, they were back in LA and finally, it felt like there would be a period of being more settled. They socialised but there were no more big introductions to make and Kerry planned to crack on with her novel.

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