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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

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Bubble Wrapped - Part 8

Word Count: 4,741

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens (others)

Notes: So here’s the next installment of this series. Trying to move this along a little quicker. For a series that was only supposed to be 3 to 5 parts it’s practically double that. Ugh! Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy. As always send me your feedback and suggestions. Happy Reading!

When your phone rang during your FaceTime with Tyler, you didn't expect who or what you heard to be on the other end. There was no 'Hi' or 'How are you' just a quick, "Hey (Y/N), I need your help?"

"Well hello to you too, Brandon." You told the winger from Pittsburgh.

"Oh yeah, Hi." You hadn't seen much of Tanev or Crosby for that matter since that night of the poker game in your suite, so it was kind of interesting to hear from him now.

"What do you need help with?"

"Well, you probably already know this, but it's Sid's birthday on Friday. The guys were saying they want to do something special with him playing that day and all. I may have mentioned that we've talked before…" He paused then and you had to wonder what else he'd told his teammates about that night. Hopefully, he didn't know about what happened with his captain after he left. "Anyhow, we were hoping to do a little party after the game, maybe with a cake and everything? And I was wondering if you could help me pull that off."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem." He could've given you a bit more notice, but you figured Carly could get you any decorations that you needed and you'd have one of the chefs whip up a cake.

"You're a lifesaver."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. I'm just doing my job." Which you totally were, though you'd go the extra mile since it was Sidney. "I'll shut down one of the restaurants and we'll have it all ready to go after the game for you. Anything special you're looking for."

"Nah, whatever you do will be amazing." Brandon was being awfully complimentary, which was appreciated though you wondered if he had another motive. Not that you'd mind going a second round. Actually, you'd like to expand on the first one that you'd had with him and Zack, though being interrupted by Sid really wasn't something you minded. "I definitely owe you one."

"Hmm, I suppose you do. I might have to collect on it soon." Though it wasn't going to be tonight as you still needed to take that Tylenol for your jaw.

"I'll hold you to it." You were sure he would, it would just be a matter of when. "Well, listen if you have any questions you have my number, so just call."

"I will," you told Brandon, then you said your goodbyes and headed to bed for the night. The next day was fairly normal, though you and Carly worked on party details for the next day. Thankfully, your pastry chef was excited to make a cake for one of hockey's best player. He told you it would be magnificent and you had no doubt that he would come through. Carly was able to transform the restaurant from its quiet dining atmosphere into a celebratory nightclub. She was even able to get one of the other staff members to act as DJ for the event. You were quite pleased with what both of you pulled off when it was finally said and done. Now all you needed was the birthday boy.

"Brayden pointed out…" Carly said then started to giggle. "Did you see what I did there?" All you could do was shake your head at her bad pun on Brayden's last name, and tell her yes. "Well anyway, he said this might not be a celebration if the Pens lose. You realize they'll be eliminated right?"

"Fuck." The word flew out of your mouth as you realized she was right. You kept forgetting that these qualifying rounds were best of five instead of normal playoffs which were seven. "We may have done all this work for nothing." The two of you kept an eye on the score, watching it remain zero, zero, until only minutes left in the third when the Canadiens scored. That's when the f-bomb dropped out of your mouth again, only this time you realized you may be losing that bet to Tyler, not that you would mind that. His remote vibrator play had been fun and you were beginning to think that being his sex slave for twenty-four hours might not be so bad. As time ticked down, you could see the desperation in the Pens play. Things weren't coming together for them and you had a feeling that it wasn't going to be a birthday that Sid wanted to remember.

"We may end up turning this party into a, congratulations on making the playoffs party for the Canadiens," Carly commented and you had to agree as the puck slid into the empty net, essentially sealing the fate of the Penguins. All that was left was for the horn to sound, and when it did, you grabbed your phone and shot Brandon a text as to what he wanted to do. His reply was to be radio silent, so you were left wondering if you'd be eating that birthday cake alone.

About an hour later, your phone buzzed. Party's a no go. Sid is pissed.

"Well, looks like this party is over before it even started."

"All this work," Carly sighed.

"I hear you, Car, but I wouldn't be in a mood to party if I just lost my ticket to the Stanley Cup Playoffs." These guys were probably down in the dumps, then again maybe not. A lot of them had families that they seemed to want to get home to, so maybe they were looking at this as a blessing. All you knew, is that now that the Pens were moving out, the next top-seeded team would be moving in and you needed to get the transitioning team ready to go for when they left. After taking down the decorations with Carly, you went to find out when the Pens would be leaving and what their exit plan was. It was obvious to you when they'd put the top-seeded teams in your hotel, that they planned on them staying awhile, so having them move out so soon, wasn't something you were prepared for. People would have to be shifted around so that rooms could be ready hours after they left. You reworked the schedule to make all of this happen and hadn't even noticed the Pens come into the hotel.

It was hours later when most of the hotel was quiet that you realized there was something you had to do. Making your way back up to the restaurant, you found the birthday cake that had been specially made for Sidney. You cut a large piece and placed a candle on it. Taking it to Sid's room was a risk, but you couldn't let his birthday go without notice. He answered your knock fairly quickly, though didn't look pleased at all. You pasted on a bright smile before saying, "So I couldn't let the day pass without at least saying Happy Birthday." You held the cake out towards him.

"Thanks," he answered, a small lop-sided grin on his face. "Not really a birthday I want to remember."

"I get that," you answered, now noticing that his suitcase was on his bed and that he must have been packing to go home. "Well, I just wanted to drop this off." He took the cake out of your hand and this awkwardness came over both of you. It was nothing like it was the other night with him. "Well…um…take care Sid." Turning, you headed towards the elevators, somewhat expecting Sid to call you back. As you pressed the button, you heard his door shut and knew that wasn't going to happen. At least you had a little fun with him, you told yourself as you headed up to your suite for the night. He had every right to be upset; you weren't exactly sure what you were expecting when you knocked on the door but it is what it is, you thought as you headed inside. You took off your blazer, setting it on the chair before heading over to the bar to pour yourself a glass of wine before heading off to bed when you heard the knock on the door.

You were half annoyed as you made your way to the door. Now that you were reconciled to a night alone, all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep. "Sid?" To say you were shocked when you opened the door was putting it mildly. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah," he breathed out, and you raised your brow in question. "This piece of cake is too big for one person. I thought maybe you'd want to share it with me?"

"Oh…um…sure." He gave you a little smile and opened the door wider for him to come in. He followed you over to the couch, the two of you sitting down.

"So, did you really have a cake made for me?"

"Yeah." Well, there was no point in saying you didn't, when the piece you'd cut for him had his name on it. "Speaking of which, hold on one second." You dashed into the kitchen then came back out with a match to light the candle. Singing a quick happy birthday to Sid, you then said, "Make a wish." He thought about it for a second then blew the candle out. "I know it's not the birthday you thought it would be." It had to be hard to go from celebrating with the cup two years in a row to now being eliminated in the qualifying rounds.

"I'd be lying if I said it was. I never thought I'd play a hockey game on my birthday, let alone lose that game. It's definitely one I want to forget about." He seemed to think about what he just said, for he quickly added, "well maybe not all of it."

The night was still young, so you were anxious to see if you could maybe turn this birthday around for him. "I should've gotten another fork." You made a move to get up but he stopped you with a hand on your thigh.

"I think we can share." Sid dipped the fork into the cake then fed you the piece. Of course, it was delicious, but you were more focused on the man who was feeding you than the actual cake itself.

"Mmm," you hummed as you enjoyed the sugary treat and you watched as Sid's tongue darted out to lick his lips. Grabbing the fork from him, you proceeded to feed him a piece as well. "You probably should've gotten the first bite."

He hummed his approval as well, the sound sending a rush of heat to your core. "I'd rather have a bite of something else." As soon as the words left his mouth, his hand was at the back of your neck pulling you towards him where his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn't tentative, it was full-on heat from the moment you touched. Each of you yearning for the other. Vaguely, you remember setting the cake down on the coffee table, so that you could reach up and wrap your arms around Sid's neck, pulling yourself closer to him. You felt yourself melting into him and the couch as he guided you back against the cushions.

His body lay heavily on top of yours but you welcomed the weight, as you both shifted trying to seek more contact with each other. Sid's hand glided down your body, and he scrunched your skirt up to your hips so that his body could fit between your legs. He continued to devour your mouth, and you felt like you were back in high school making out on your parent's sofa. His hands roamed up your body, untucking your shirt so he could glide them up to feel your breasts. Sid rolled your covered nipple between his thumb and forefinger; your back arching up into his touch as you moaned into the kiss.

His lips finally broke from yours, so you could both catch your breath. "We could move this upstairs," you suggested.

"I like that idea," he answered capturing your lips again briefly before easing off the couch and helping you up. When you adjusted your skirt back down he just cocked his head at you with a little smirk on his face. "Did you think that was necessary?"

"Depends on if you want a show or not?"

"There are options?" That was sort of a loaded question you weren't sure you wanted to answer.

"Aren't there always?" You were at the top of the stairs then and his hands grabbed you around the waist and hauled you close to him so that you were nose to nose.

"There's a lot of questions going on here, maybe we should just quit talking."

He gave you a full ten seconds to answer before crushing your mouth to his. Before you knew it, you were in your bedroom. His hands were all over you and you couldn't get enough of it, but you were also doing your share of touching every exposed inch of his body. The last time the two of you were together, he'd maintained this cool composure as he'd gotten you off on his thigh while remaining completely clothed. You weren't going to miss the opportunity this time to see Sidney on his birthday in his birthday suit. Gathering his shirt in your hands, you broke from the kiss to lift it off his body. The man was simply perfection, as your nails raked across his abs. He shivered at your touch but then thrust into your hips letting you know that he wanted you just as much as you did him.

Sid's hands were at the back of your skirt, searching for the zipper until he found it and slid it down so you could shimmy out of the garment. He wasn't satisfied with just getting you out of that though, as he all but tore your shirt from your body. You could swear that you heard the seam rip, but you didn't care. He held you at arms-length then, drinking in the sight of you clad only in your bra and thong. "Mmm, you're the best present I've unwrapped today." He hummed out in appreciation as he stared at you.

You blushed at the compliment that rolled off his tongue, before taking a deep breath to regain your composure. "You still have more to unwrap."

"So it seems," he chuckled and then turned your body so that your back was to him as he unhooked your bra. "Have to make it last," he whispered in your ear, as his lips dropped to the hollow of your neck. Your head fell back against him, rolling to the side to give him greater access as you enjoyed the feel of his mouth hot on you. One strap slid down your shoulder, the bra just barely hanging on until he slithered the other one down with it. You could feel his eyes on your breasts as he sucked on your neck, a groan coming from him as his cock pressed into your back. "Beautiful," he breathed out over the spot where he'd just been nibbling, and it was your turn to shiver as the sensation of both hot and cold had goose pimples rising on your flesh. His hands snaked up your sides so he could cup your breasts, toying with your nipples and making them pebble under his touch. You ached to feel his lips there, but Sid took his time, just tweaking and pinching.

His right hand traveled south to your core, as he snuck his hand inside the thin material of your panties; fingers massaging just above your clit. You wanted, no, you needed more. Your hips flexing of their own accord, silently begging him to venture further down. When he did finally touch your clit, you moaned out in pleasure, but Sid didn't stay there long. His fingers slipped between your folds, just running back and forth not entering you. "You're dripping." He turned your head to capture your lips in a short kiss. "Are you always like this or just for me?"

You knew he was looking for his ego to be stroked a bit and you were willing to fondle more than that. "Only for you," you moaned out, as your hand snuck back to rub his cock through his shorts.

"Not yet baby. It's my birthday remember." You nodded weakly, as his fingers played with your pussy. "Take off your panties and lie down on the bed for me." You followed his command, ridding yourself of the flimsy material before climbing onto the mattress, and situating yourself amongst the pillows. "Spread your legs for me princess." Sid had a spell on you, and so you obeyed his orders. "Wider baby, let me see how wet you are." His eyes were riveted to your cunt, which was soaking by this point and only grew wetter under his intense scrutiny. "I seem to recall only getting a taste of that cake downstairs. I wonder if you're as sweet as it was." Sid crawled onto the bed then, positioning himself between your thighs, before grabbing your hips and hauling them towards him. His eyes held yours as his tongue snuck out for that first taste of you. "Mmm, I thinking I need more." He was lapping at your folds and drinking in your juices, while you fisted the sheets from the pleasure of his tongue. Your moans filling the air of the room. "So sweet," he hummed against your pussy, before nibbling on your clit and causing your hips to buck up. His strong arm held you still as he ate you out, alternating between thrusting his tongue inside you and flicking it over your clit.

"Sid, please," you begged, but he kept you teetering on the edge. "Fuck." He slid one finger inside you, your pussy clenching around it. "Oh god," you groaned out at the feel of him. His mouth was solely focused on your clit now that one finger just pumping in and out of you, and you felt your orgasm start to build. It wasn't long before it crested, and wash over you, your body arching up into his mouth. "Sid," you moaned out as you came.

"You're so beautiful when you cum," he panted as his finger slid out of you. "Open," he demanded as he brought that same finger to your lips. You sucked on it, tasting yourself as you ran your tongue around his digit. "Fuck princess, you do that so well." His finger popped out of your mouth, before he said, "how about you try sucking on something else." When you licked your lips in anticipation, he captured them in a searing kiss, then rolled your bodies so that you were laying on top of him. You broke the kiss, then wiggled down his body, trailing kisses on his chest and abdomen as you went. When you got to the waistband, you ran your fingers underneath it, your tongue following your movements as you shimmied his shorts down his legs. Your nails skated up the inside of his bare thighs as his cock sprang free. Taking your tongue, you licked up the underside of his dick before taking the head inside your mouth. He sighed in contentment and his hand reached down to thread through your locks, gently urging you to take more of him. As you sank down inch by slow inch on his cock, Sid groaned with pleasure. "That's it, princess, take me in deep." Sid's thighs weren't the only thing that was thick on him as your mouth took as much of him inside as you could. Slipping your one hand around the base, you pumped what you couldn't fit in, as your jaw worked up and down on the length of him. "Fuck princess, you are so good." You hummed under his praise, the vibrations going through his body had him fisting his hand in your hair. His hips thrust up into your face, making you gag slightly before they moved back down on the mattress. You cupped his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you hollowed out your cheeks only to release him with a pop. Running your tongue down his length, you licked at his balls before sucking them. "Jesus," he hissed out, while your hand pumped his erection up and down. Sid gathered your hair at the nape of your neck so he could watch you. "So beautiful," he praised and you moved back up to take him inside your mouth once again. Sounds of sucking and slurping filled the room as your head bobbed up and down on his cock. His balls tensed, right before he pulled you off of him. "Fuck…as much as I want to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours; I'm not ready for the night to be over just yet."

He dragged your body up flush with his so he could kiss you again and he rolled you both one more time. His tongue exploring your mouth with languid strokes, that made you want to kiss him for days on end, but then you felt his dick nudging at your entrance and your body craved him more. As he pressed into your dripping cunt, your leg snaked around his waist, pulling him in closer. "So eager," he breathed out, making eye contact with you until he was buried deep inside you. You'd never felt so full before. Sid's hip thrust just centimeters more into you, his cock hitting deep within your core and you felt stretched beyond compacity. "Is that what you wanted?" Feebly, you nodded a yes. "Words, princess?"

"Yes, Sid…yes," you were panting now with need. Your body aching for him to move. Thankfully he didn't make you beg any longer as he started a slow thrust in and out of your pussy. Sid's mouth moved down your neck, to your breasts, where he took one turret nipple into his mouth and playfully bit down on it. The effect went straight to your cunt, as you could feel the wetness now dripping down to your ass. Yet he continued his slow pace of pumping into you. "Please, Sid…" you begged wanting more. Sid wasn't to be deterred though and continued the rhythm he enjoyed, toying with your nipples as you moaned out in ecstasy.

He was building you slowly up, just gradually bringing you to the edge. You felt your legs start to tense, only to have Sid pull his cock out completely. "On your knees baby." You did his bidding, eager to find that release your body desired. His hands roamed around the globes of your ass, softly caressing it as he pushed back into you. Once he was fully inside, you pushed back against him. "Easy princess," his words on had you repeating the motion until you felt his hand smack hard on your ass. You yelped in surprise, even though the sting sent a rush of sensation to where you both were connected. His hand soothed your bottom, before delivering another blow. This time you moaned, enjoying the bite his hand brought. "You like that, don't you princess?"

"Mmmhmm," you whimpered as he smacked the other side this time.

Finally, Sid started to thrust in and out of your soaking pussy. Every so often spanking you as he went. You could feel your body just hovering on the edge of orgasm, but yet not being able to get there. Sid took a fistful of your hair, yanking you back as he started to pound in and out of you. You were so close. "Are you going to cum for me princess?" An incoherent noise let your lips and even you couldn't tell if it was a yes or a no. Wanting to bring you pleasure, Sid's hand snuck to your clit, where he rubbed your little nub furiously. You started to tremble, and he yanked your hair harder. "Look at me, princess." You turned to see him, right before your climax hit. Your pussy walls contracting around him and pulling him even deeper inside. You called out his name and then he wildly thrust in and out of your body until he came with a loud groan. Sid fell on top of you, your arms collapsing from your orgasm and the weight of him. Only when you both dropped to the mattress did he roll onto his side, taking you with. "Fuck, I needed that."

His hands caressed your body, just a feather-light touch that calmed you both as you floated back to reality. "Me too," you mumbled as his cock slipped out of you. Turning so that you could face him, you cupped his cheek, only noticing then, that he'd shaved his playoff beard off already. "I know it doesn't make up for the loss but I hope you enjoyed that present."

His signature lop-sided grin appeared on his face. "More than you know." His hands now rubbing your ass where he had spanked you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

A light chuckle escaped your mouth. "No, I enjoyed it."

"Mmm, me too." His hand that was making circles on your ass stopped and you felt him pulling away, only you didn't want him to. This opportunity would probably never happen again and you wanted to enjoy it just a little longer.

"Stay," you found yourself saying and you weren't a hundred percent sure as to why. Every other fling you'd had in this damn hotel had been just that, a quick mating of two people and as soon as it was over, you left or asked them to. But this right here with Sid, something was different. Your mind told you that nothing would ever come of this. That Sid would go on his way back to Pittsburgh or Cole Harbour and go on with things, just as you would here, but you wanted to savor this moment just a little longer.

"Are you sure?" you nodded yes to his question, as you didn't trust your voice at the moment. "Well since you insist." His lips captured yours again, this time the kiss soft and sweet, and you were back to being those two high school kids that were on the couch in the first blush of love. It was not something you wanted to dwell on as you felt your heart give way to this man. When you finally broke apart, the smile on his face had you half falling in love with him. "Sleep, and then we can have another round before I have to leave."

You hated that last part, why did it have to be this way. If only the Pens had won, you thought, but then would you be in this position right now if they had? Would Sid have kept you at arm's length focusing solely on hockey? Your mind ran through a million scenarios, all of them ending the same way and so you told yourself that this was just a fascination with one of hockey's elite players and that the moment he was gone you'd move on. By the time you finally got your racing thoughts under control, Sid was fast asleep. He looked so peaceful as if he didn't have a care in the world and you supposed now that his season was over, he didn't. But the season was still going on for sixteen other teams and you. You needed to focus on them.

Reaching over, you grabbed your phone to check the time, only to notice you'd missed a call and several text messages from Tyler. Tyler, you thought with a wistful sigh. You still had that bet with him. Technically, you'd won for here you were, your body sated from its activities with Sidney. You looked back over at the man, who was sleeping with his arms wrapped around your body. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you decided to snap the picture that would prove as evidence of what had transpired tonight, then you hurriedly set the phone back on the nightstand. Now the only question was, did you send it to Tyler or just keep it as a memory to look back on for years to come.

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

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Amira Wayne - Chapter 10

Two days late but here we are! Day 10 of @biodad-bruce-month event!

Chapter 10: Consolation + Salt

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

“Meine lieblingsschwester!” Dick yelled, scooping Amira into a hug, causing her to panic.

Why did she agree to let him pick her up at the airport?

The flight towards the States wasn’t bad and if anything, was thankful that it was silent. It was something she needed after accidentally yelling at Tikki like that. She knew she should’ve run the decision by Tikki, but Amira knew the outcome if she did that.

“I’m your only sister.” Amira said, smiling as she returned a hug.

“It’s just that it’s been so long! Look at you! You’ve grown bigger than the last time I’ve- when did you cut your hair? Why didn’t you tell me?! And please don’t tell me you did it yourself. There’s salons for that reason!”

Amira allowed herself to be examined, feeling herself relax. “Really gonna miss being able to braid your hair.” Amira smiled, quickly throwing herself at Dick.

“I’ve missed you, you blöde.”

Dick dropped Amira’s suitcase with a thud, closing the door behind him as Amira slumped into a nearby sofa.

“So this is your place.” Amira said, looking around the apartment, quickly getting up when she saw Dick had a balcony.

She hurried over and gently pushed the door open, adoring the view.

“Looks just like Gotham, doesn’t it?” Dick looked out towards the streets, watching as cars drove by.

“Yeah, just without the gargoyles.” Amira said with a sigh, looking at the dark streets and cloudy sky.

Amira pulled her sweater to her body, getting chills from the evening breeze.

“I know we talked about this as we were in the car, but...are you sure about staying here? If it’s about not having a costume for the party, I could always just stay behind and-”

“Like I told you earlier, I’ll be fine. Plus, there’s a few things I want to do before settling for the night. Sure, I’m not going to be for long, but that’s the whole reason I want to stay behind.” Amira cut off, leaning into the sounds that she so dearly missed.

Paris could never beat the atmosphere that Bludhaven and Gotham had. “So go on ahead and tell the guys I said hi. I’ll be fine.”

As much as she wanted to join Dick and hangout with Wally, Vic and Garth, Amira needed to hold herself back.

Dick’s mouth turned into a thin line, tapping his finger against his arm, looking at Amira for any doubt. He finally decided to let out a sigh and run a hand through his hair.

“I know you Amira. And I know that if I try and force you to come with me, I know you’re going to find a way to sneak out.” Dick pulled out a bracelet, a tiny ladybug hanging from it.

Amira took it and slipped it on, hearing the faintest click go off. A tracker, huh. “It’s a tracker. And no, I’m not going to check on it unless you press it.”

“Press it?”

“When you press on the ladybug’s head, it will send me a notification that you’re in trouble.” Dick pulled Amira into a hug, squeezing her. “Please. Be careful on your-”

“I will.” Amira swore, pulling away from her brother. “I will be alright, don’t worry.”

Tikki wanted to scream for Amira to slow down, but swallowed back her screams after remembering what happened last night.

She didn’t feel like she was in the right to scold the girl, nonetheless tell her what to do when they were no longer in Paris.

Not only that, but seeing Amira smiling at every step she walked also added to the pressure to hold back.

She’s never seen Ma-Amira so content and that wasn’t something Tikki was going to take away from her.

So Tikki remained silent when she watched Amira take a pair of keys and leave the apartment via the window. Tikki kept quiet as Amira stole a bike and started it, using it to head towards Gotham.

There were a plethora of things that Amira was doing illegally -Amira’s speeding and driving with no license being two of them- but Tikki couldn’t bring herself to say anything, not even as they broke into a cemetery.

Tikki watched as Amira took out a small bouquet of flowers she had bought and stuffed into her jacket before arriving at the graveyard.

Some of the petals were squished or missing, but the sentiment was still there.

Tikki watched as Amira placed the flowers down into an abandoned vase, wondering when was the last time someone brought this person flowers.

Tikki settled into Amira’s shoulder as Amira carefully stooped down, dusting off the debris that was starting to accumulate on the tombstone.

Tikki felt her heart stop upon reading the name on the tomb.

“Hey Jason. It’s me, Amira. Sorry it took so long to visit, but I’m finally back. I’m home.”

Tim wasn’t expecting anything when he went patrolling that night with Barbara.

The two agreed to patrol without Bruce, Bruce having gone to a Halloween masquerade ball while Tim and Babs scouted for the night in his stead.

If anything were to happen anyways, Bruce would know about it and be at the scene asap.

As the duo swung across Gotham’s streets, Tim noticed someone inside the cemetery, kneeling in front of an ever so familiar grave.

“Hey Babs. Isn’t the cemetery always closed during Halloween?” Tim asked, recalling the amount of times some of his classmates would dare one another to enter it on Halloween night. Most didn’t end up entering as they used the ‘cemetery was close’ as an excuse.

“Should be.” Babs ended up saying, turning over towards Tim who was perched on the corner of the building behind her. “Why do you-“ Babs followed Tim’s line of sight, finally noticing the reason behind his question. “She shouldn’t be there. Come on. Let’s try to get her out of there.”

Tim stumbled as he got up, but managed to follow Babs to go and greet the girl and possibly take her home.

As the two approached the girl, they couldn’t help but bring their guard up, feeling oddly familiar with her aura.

“-believe that? Of course you would. You were the only one-“ the girl turned around, causing Tim and Babs to stop, watching as the girl’s eyes widened before narrowing dangerously.

She shouldn’t have been able to sense them. Just who was she?

“Sorry! We didn’t mean to scare you. We just wanted to escort you out of the cemetery-“

“Well, if it isn’t Replacement Number 1 and Replacement Number 2.” The girl spoke out, Tim catching the venom that dropped at the end of her words.

“I’m sorry, do-“

“To think Bruce willingly took the two of you in and then let you replace the previous Robin.” The girl spoke, glaring at Tim. “Just goes to show how little he thinks of those around him.”

“How-“

“-do I know you replaced the previous Robin? It’s quite easy. I was there.” The girl spoke, walking up to Tim. “I was there the night he was brought back home. I was there the night Jason Peter Todd came home, dead and covered in blood.” She grabbed hold of Tim and brought him up to her face. “You will never be what he was. You will never be able to bring the mantle justice...Replacement.” Tim watched as the girl ripped the mask off of him, watching as her eyes widened.

“Drake?”

He told her not to do anything stupid, to not get herself into trouble and yet that’s exactly what she did.

Only an hour into the party and he got a notification about Amira having got into a fight.

Excusing himself from the party, Dick quickly got onto his bike, heading over to Gotham Cemetery, hoping Amira was alright.

When he got there, he didn’t expect to see Amira fighting both Robin and Batgirl, fighting the two of them without too much of a struggle. He watched as she expertly handled her rope dart, watching her elegantly spin and whip her rope out, striking Batgirl multiple times with knee shots, keeping her at bay.

Robin tried to get close, but she wouldn’t allow him to by spinning her rope close to her and when he dared to approach, she would take a few steps back before jumping over him and slamming the end of the rope against his back, causing him to fall to the ground and get kicked in ribs and stomach until Amira decided to slam the other end of her rope against the small boys back.

That’s how Dick found out that both ends of the rope had weights, allowing Amira to send out easier consecutive hits to her opponent.

However, her streak was broken thanks to Batgirl knocking the rope out of her hands, the vigilante smirking when she thought she disarmed the girl.

Focusing her attention on Batgirl, Amira charged at her, pretending to do a roundhouse kick when she whipped out an escrima stick and connected the tip to the side of her head, causing blood to seep from the contact and for Batgirl to stagger towards the floor.

Dick’s heart came to a halt.

Was this really Amira?

Dick climbed over the fence, dashing over to the fallen Batgirl and heavily injured Robin, when the person he least wanted to see made himself known.

Gliding down, Batman appeared.

But that didn’t signal Amira to stop. Instead, it fueled her to continue to attack.

Taking out another escrima stick, she connected the two, now arming herself with a bo staff.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked, but only got an answer in the form of a hit to the side, Bruce quickly grabbing the bo staff and pulling Amira towards him, only for her to snap the bo staff in half and attempt to hit Bruce on the head.

But he was quicker.

Grabbing hold of the escrima stick, he pulled it diagonally down, allowing him to grab hold of Amira.

She hissed as she squirmed under his hold, hating that the Kevlar he created was a bit hard to slip out of.

“Let go of her Bruce.” Dick demanded, glaring at their supposed father.

“Dick.”

Batgirl finally got into her two feet stumbling a bit as she got up. She held her hand against her head as she watched and listened to Bruce and a Dick argue, noticing the odd resemblance between the assailant and Bruce.

Wait...she recognized that face. How did she not recognize the little girl sooner?

“Marinette?” Amira glared at Batgirl, wondering how she knew her other name. “You're Marinette, aren’t you? It’s me.” Amira felt her heart stop as she watched Batgirl become Babs. “It’s me, Barbara. Where have you-?”

Amira didn’t know how she slipped out of Bruce’s hold, nor how she left the cemetery. All she knew is that she managed to get back on the bike she stole and headed towards nowhere.

She still didn’t know how she ended up in her old room.

“Is...is this-”

“Yeah.” Amira answered Tikki, looking at a room she didn’t recognize anymore. It felt empty and void of familiarity. Despite the furniture still there, without the books and clothing that were in Paris, the room didn’t feel like hers anymore. It just felt like any other room in the manor. “To think I lived here for 13 years.”

That’s when Amira heard the door cream open, Amira quickly ducking behind the bed, crouching to make sure no one saw her.

She listened as the floorboards creaked, Amira slowing down her breathing as the person walked around her room, reaching the opposite side of the bed.

Just when she thought the person was going to leave the room, the figure appeared before her, grabbing her by her collar and lifting her up with ease.

“Miss Amira?” Alfred asked in disbelief, Amira seeing her vision blur as she was placed back down, her feet feeling the floor. “Is that really you?” He asked as he cupped her face in his hands. His hands were warm and smelled of quiche.

“Grandpere… Grandpere Alf!” Amira wailed, throwing herself at her grandfather and proceeding to cry. Alfred held his granddaughter tight, letting her know that he was going to be there no matter what. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, mon poussin.”

“Do you think you’ll go back there later tonight?” Alfred asked Amira, Amira looking at the mug in her hands.

The chamomile tickled her nose, the aroma reminding her of the days she would sit with Alfred and Jason and talk about bread.

“I don’t think so. If it means running back into Replacement and Batgirl, I don’t want to go back, even if Jason would hate me for that.”

“Replacement?” Alfred asked, lifting a brow.

“Timothy Jackson Drake.” Amira seethed, gripping the mug tighter. “The one who replaced Jason’s spot by Bruce’s side.” At that, Alfred was taken aback.

“Bruce, as in your father?”

“What other ass-”

“Amira Martha Wayne.” Alfred sternly spoke, promptly shutting Amira.

She forgot that Alfred hated it whenever any of them cursed, even scolded her father when he did.

Amira pursed her lips, deciding to take a sip of her tea. It was cold.

“How could Father do that to Jason? He knew what Robin meant to Jason...and yet! He went ahead and replaced him with the neighbor! A kid who’s two years younger than me! And then Batgirl! Did he need to replace me too?” Amira yelled, watching as a tear slipped onto her hand.

“Amira.” Alfred softly said.

“Grandpere...I’m just tired of having to prove myself. I’m tired of having to scream and cry until he does something about it. I’m...I’m done...I’m...I’m just a burden to him, aren’t I?” Alfred’s heart clenched when Amira looked at him with shrouded eyes, noticing how worn out they were, how dull they’ve become since the last time he saw her smile. “I mean, it would explain the way he’s been treating me.

First off, I look nothing like him. I have green eyes and an olive complexion. The only thing I have from him is his midnight hair.

Then there’s the fact that I can’t even use my last name anywhere. My schools and classmates know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the daughter of a pair of bakers. Dupain-Cheng is the name I use when it should be Wayne. Wayne! A name that was supposedly my birthright and yet was never truly given to me…” Amira trailed off, wiping away some tears.

“As if stripping me of my identity wasn’t enough to get rid of me, he decides to get rid of me by sending me across the Atlantic, towards Paris, where two months later I find out he’s taken Barbara under his wing.

Did you know I used to look up to her? Did you know she was my only friend after what happened with Jason? He even took that away from me…”

“Mon poussin,” Alfred coaxed, wiping away a stray tear that slid down her face. “You know that isn’t true. Master-no. Your father never saw you as a burden, ever. If anything, you were a blessing that anchored him. A ray of hope within this chaotic city.”

“Then why. Why-”

“Because he didn’t want you to go through what he went through when he was younger.”

“What are you talking about?” Amira asked, wondering what exactly her grandfather was talking about.

As far as she knew, nothing major really happened to her father, except for that one time she got so sick she ended up in the hospital. But that was about it.

“I believe you were about five years old when it happened. Your father barely managed to get through a stab wound that almost cost him his life.

He feared he was about to leave behind you, his only child...just like he was left behind after your grandparents were killed when he was a young lad himself.”

She couldn’t sleep after hearing Alfred retell the incident from long ago, a memory Amira couldn’t remember despite being five at the time.

Since she couldn’t sleep, she decided to do another one of her lists of things to do while in Gotham: research.

Sitting at the large computer, Amira realized how much she missed the giddiness that would course through her by simply sitting at a place with endless information waiting to be used.

She ran her fingers over the cold keyboard, looking up at the screen that held its breath and awaited for her command.

“Amira. Where exactly are we?” Tikki asked, watching as Amira logged into the computer and began pulling file after file, typing in different things into different bases of data.

“The Batcave. My father’s base of operation as Gotham’s vigilante: Batman.” Amira provided, skimming through different bases, clicking on different files before closing some and downloading others. “Currently, I’m looking for-”

The sound of someone walking into the Cave caused Amira to zip and for Tikki to hide. Even though her father knew of the miraculous, he had yet to know about Tikki. “What are you doing here, Replacement?” Amira asked when she turned to see who had entered.

Thankfully it wasn’t her father.

There, by the stairs stood Tim, his head wrapped in bandages and his cheek sporting a bruise.

“I...I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“That wasn’t the answer to my question. What are you doing here?”

“Came by to check a few files on-”

“Leave. I’m busy using it right now. Come back when I’m done.” Amira commanded, turning back to what she was doing, hearing Tim approach her instead of leaving. “I told you to leave.”

“Perhaps I can-”

“Leave.” Amira gritted, saying it louder this time. “I don’t need the help of a kid who thinks he can just force his way into this lifestyle and think he’s up to it. Sure, you might have the capacity to absorb everything thrown your way, but you lack the experience.”

“But I’m-”

“You just started training with my father, but I’ve trained under him for years. If that doesn’t mean anything to you, our fight from earlier should’ve proven it. You’re unfit for the vigilante fight.”

“But Jason was able to-”

“Jason learned his skills from the street, skills he needed to survive. You, on the other hand, didn’t have to learn how to dismantle a car or use all means necessary to keep living. Under our father, Jason was able to sharpen the skills he already knew. But what about you?”

Tim frowned, looking at his curled fists. “Bet he had to start from square one, teaching you the basics, the stances and making you memorize-”

“I helped him solve cases that had him stumped, retrieve data-”

“Robin isn’t just support in the tech and detective department. He’s also support in the field, during fights. Robin has to be well rounded and excel in combat, something you just showed me to lack.” Tim watched as Amira unplugged a USB, glaring at Tim as she stood in front of him.

“You’ll never be worthy to be called Jason’s successor. No matter how hard you try, I’ll only ever see you as a replacement.”

Tim stood there, biting his tongue as he heard Amira leave the Cave.

As Amira walked out the Cave, she found Dick waiting there for her, watching him let out a sigh of relief. She watched as he pulled her into a hug.

“Thank god you’re alright.”

“I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”

“Forget about that. We should’ve known better than to think he wouldn’t find you.”

“At least I’m still roaming free.” At those words, Dick let out a laugh, ruffling her hair.

“Let’s go on ahead and go home. Halloween isn’t over yet and I’m pretty sure there’s still a marathon or two playing tonight.”

“I’ll only watch it if they have the Addams Family.”

#maribat #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #b!dbwm2020

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buckyscrystalqueen · 3 years

Text

Ain’t Sayin’ She’s a Gold Digger: Part 2

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Negan x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: Sugar baby relationship, swearing

Word Count: 3,343

Part 1

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

“Well don’t you clean up nice.” Jeffrey said as you stepped out of your apartment building in a black silk Saint Laurent top, red denim shorts, and red to black gradient Louboutin’s with an old, worn suitcase in your each of your hands that were stuffed full of clothes.

“So I think I fucked up.” You huffed as you set the bags down on the stoop and pushed a new pair of sunglasses up on top of your head.

“Oh?” He asked with a small smirk as he leaned back against his car and crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you do?”

“Well… this is only bags number one and two.”

“Oh shit.” He laughed as Dana opened the door and carried out bags three and four out with her. “OK, James will get the rest, girls.”

“There’s only one more.” You huffed as you handed the bags at your feet to his driver. “And it’s one with the dresses… oh!” You gasped and lunged toward suitcase number two, which was probably as old as you were, as it ripped down the zipper and spilled half of your carefully planned and neatly folded outfits onto the stairs. “Damn it.”

“Sweetheart.” Jeff said as he lurched forward and helped you and Dana pick up your things. “Why didn’t you get new bags?”

“I just… I thought about it.” You sighed as you brushed off a dress on the bottom of the pile and set it on the seat of the car so it was out of the way. “But I had already went from a little less than a month of clothes to way over, and it was just getting so expensive, I just figured that my old suitcases would work, and I just had to buy these Louboutin’s because they have just been my wet dream…”

“Alright, well now we have to go and get you suitcases before we leave.” He said with a shake of his head as he searched your eyes. “What else did you skimp out on?”

“I made it through purchasing clothes, and the salon so she was up to my standards.” Dana said as she handed you the last bit of clothing with an evil smile. “But I know her make up’s old, and she probably got it from Walgreens.”

“Dana, shut your face.”

“I see what you mean about this one being a run for my money.” Jeff laughed as he handed his driver all of your folded clothes to put in the trunk with your bags. “Are you trying to be difficult?”

“Oh, I’m not trying…”

“She will always be difficult.” Dana said as she kissed your cheek. “Now go! I have things I want to do…”

“Make sure you shut the blinds this time if you’re gunna go dance naked in the living room some more.”

“Go to hell.” She laughed as she headed up the stairs. “Keep in touch, and you take care of my best girl.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We got some stops to make and I gotta postpone a jet.”

——

“You don’t have to keep apologizing, sweetheart.” Jeff said softly as you sat down next to him on the U-shaped couch on the Regent cruise line’s private jet.

“I feel bad I’m the reason we’re all late.”

“And I think we are right on time.” You smiled at him softly and sighed through your nose as you crossed your legs and put your hand on top of his on your knee. “So tell me about you.”

“It’s… well, it’s a long, long story.”

“Well we have a seven hour flight ahead of us.” You smirked and looked over at him as you turned on the leather toward him a bit more.

“What if I wanna be difficult?”

“Oh, I like difficult.” He chuckled as he glanced up and took two champagne glasses from the stewardess with a small nod.

“OK, well champagne is going to make being difficult, really difficult.” You laughed as you tapped your glass against his. “And I am an double orphan, that was adopted by a single mom who died of cancer, and then raised in group homes and with foster families, so I know how to be difficult.”

“You were an orphan?”

“I was an orphan.” You repeated before taking a big sip of your drink. “Well technically I still am. I was left at a police station when I was a year and a half old by my mom. And I was placed with a foster family while they tried to track her down, but they never did. She’s the lady who taught me how to play piano, my second mom, mama Beth. For the whole first month I was living with her, I didn’t say a word or make a sound, I just stared at her baby grand piano because I’d never seen one before. And eventually, she just picked my ass up, plopped me down on the chair, and taught me everything I know.”

“How long were you with her?” He asked before taking a sip of his own drink.

“Almost ten years.” You said with the slightest hint of tears in your eyes. “Until she passed away. After that, I went to a few different group homes and other foster families that I hated until I aged out. Went to Juilliard on a scholarship and then became a bartender after that. And now I’m here.”

“And now your here.” He parroted back as he set his drink down in the cup holder on the table in front of you to buckle his seatbelt. “I was a little more fortunate in life.”

“What, not all people own cruise lines and hotels and fly in private jets?” You teased as you fastened your own seatbelt.

“Surprisingly, no.” He laughed as his eyes lit up even more. “Usually people own much bigger companies.”

“Oh, well you are slacking!” You giggled as you let him take your hand and lace his fingers with yours. “You need to step up your game, Jeffrey. Do I need to be the one to make… like a vision board or some shit to you can manifest the new dream?”

“No, we don’t need that.” He said as he slowly brushed his thumb against yours. “You know, you really are a breath of fresh air.”

“I’m not doing anything special.” You nearly whispered as you laid your head down on his shoulder for only a second, before you popped it right back up again. “Oh, there’s a big TV?!”

“There’s a bed in the back, too.” Your head whipped over toward him and your jaw dropped in shock.

“Shut up.”

“I use this plane for VIP guests that go on our more expensive cruises overseas, or VIPs that visit our hotels and want a more personal experience with our company. I’ve tried to do everything I can to make everyone’s vacation as memorable as can be.”

“Is it just VIPs that use this… oh!” You squeaked as you squeezed his hand a little tighter as the plane picked up speed and shot across the runway.

“It goes quick.” He whispered in your ear as he put his other hand on your knee. “First time flying?” You nodded your head and took a deep breath, before forcing a smile on your face.

“OK, it’s not that bad.”

“You get used to it.” He chuckled. “And usually it is only VIPs that use this. It’s a pretty penny to fuel and staff this thing…”

“Would you should consider doing a raffle every year?” You asked before you finished your champagne as the plane leveled out at your flying altitude. He looked at you questioningly at the interruption and you shrugged and set your glass down in the cup holder beside his. “Sorry. You just said that you want to make people’s experiences memorable. As someone that grew up without, who has never been on a vacation before in my life, let alone going overseas, this is a pretty amazing experience. One that I will always remember. Now imagine giving that same feeling to a couple of love sick newlyweds going on their honeymoon, or the kids of a single mother who worked three jobs after she divorced her husband to give her kids something joyful in their dark life like my friend’s mom did in middle school.” You shrugged and gave him a tight lipped smile. “I don’t know, it’s just a thought.”

“It’s actually a very good thought.” He said with a smile as he took his hand off your knee to reach up and push a piece of hair back behind your ear. He searched your eyes for a moment and shook his head. “Fuck, Dana was right about you. You really are something special.”

“Honestly, I’m just being me. I told you, I don’t know how to be your typical Baby. So you’re gonna get me just the way I am.”

“And that’s what I need right now.” He reassured as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “I need something real. Something that isn’t putting on a mask to be what they think I want. I may hate her, but I miss my wife because she was the only person who treated me like a person and not a bank account. And I can already tell that you’re the same kinda person.”

“I mean, I won’t lie to you…” You admitted as you leaned into his touch. “The money is nice. But it’s certainly not everything. Even in the short amount of time we’ve spent together, I can tell you’re a great guy. And I’m glad I can be the one to get to know you. So I guess we can both be grateful that I met Dana.”

“How did you meet Dana anyways?”

“Well I can be grateful I got kicked out of Juilliard for that. I lost my place to live and didn’t have any money. She happened to be on a run past Juilliard as I was tossing trash bags of my shit out of the dorm, and I knocked her ass over with a bag of shoes.”

“Oh, Jesus.” He laughed as he nodded at his stewardess and sat up a little bit to snack on the extravagant charcuterie board that was set on the table in front of you.

“She obviously forgave me.” You laughed as you nodded your head at the stewardess when she held up the bottle of champagne. “And she gave me a couch to sleep on until I could get a job and get my shit together. And the rest is history.”

“Well here’s to history.” Jeff said with a smile as he held up his full glass. “And to making friends.”

“And to perfectly timed moments in time.” You added as you tapped your glass against his.

“I can definitely drink to that, sweetheart.”

——

“Ummm… how old is that phone?” Jeff asked with a laugh as he watched you take photos of London out the town car window with an iPhone 6 that had a giant crack across the screen but still worked just fine.

“As old as you are.” You teased with a glance over your shoulder before looking back out the window at the landmarks wizzing by on your way to one of Jeff’s hotels for the night before the cruise. “So about as old as the dinosaurs.” He laughed behind you as he sat forward in his spot.

“Find an Apple store…”

“No.” You said quickly as you shook your head and turned back toward him. “No, that’s alright.”

“Just find us an Apple store.” Jeff repeated with a shake of his head as he looked back down at his phone and the dozen or so emails he had gotten when you were in the air.

“You’re being ridiculous.” You huffed as you turned away from him for a moment.

“No, you trying to take good photos on an old broken phone on your first international trip ever is ridiculous.” You looked over at his smirk and narrowed your eyes as he glanced over at you out of the corner of his eyes. “You are ridiculous, sweetheart.”

“Why?” His smirk turned into a full smile as he turned off his screen and turned toward you casually.

“I like to take care of people.” He started as he rested his arm on the back of the seat and picked up a strand of your hair to twirl around his finger. “It’s the way I was raised. When I was young, my mom used to make me work with her at a thrift store her woman’s club ran couple times a week. It was the biggest pain in the ass in my opinion because I would have much rather been out playing with my friends. But one day, one of those friends lost their house to a fire. And they needed help. And so the stuff I had been organizing just the day before became everything to my friend. It was maybe a half dozen t-shirts and maybe as many pairs of shorts, but that was all he had. And it made me wanna do more. But as a kid there was only so much I could do. So from that day forward, I did everything I could to help people in ways they couldn’t do themselves.”

“So that’s why you went into hospitality?”

“Part of the reason. The other part was the money. And when I met and married Hillarie, I had someone I could take care of, so my philanthropy kinda fell to the way side… but after she left, I just…”

“You’re just missing something.” You interjected with a smile as you pat his thigh gently. “I get it. This kinda makes a lot more sense now, you and me… Oh, Tiffany!” You said as you pointed out the window behind him at the building you had just drove past. “That place always has the cutest things. I can never stop myself from browsing… Sorry, that was rude…”

“You can just stop here.” Jeff said as he gestured to an open parking spot. “I do think a nice Tiffany necklace would look great with this outfit of yours before we find you a decent international phone for the month we’re here.”

“OK, let the record show that I’m not a fan of being spoiled like this.” You said as you got out of the car behind him with a giant smile. “But at the same time, the broke girl that spends way to much money on fashion magazines is dying.”

“Listen to that second voice.” He laughed as he put his hand on the small of your back and pulled the door to the designer department store named Selfridges open for you. “Spend the money.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This ship is absolutely breath taking.” You sighed as you walked with Jeffrey so he could double check all of the work that was put into the ship before its maiden voyage. “Every single detail is… it’s just beyond words.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Jeff said with a smile as he brushed his thumb across your back. “I wanted to make sure, even though it looks very similar to one of the line’s other ships, that it would still be an unrivaled experience for the guests.”

“Well I think you got it spot on.” You leaned into his side and looked up at him with a playful smile. “You know you’re gunna have to play bocce with me.”

“I will play bocce with you.” He agrees as he lead you into a lounge you hadn’t seen yet because you had been distracted by the culinary arts kitchen and picking one of the classes to take so Jeff knew it was a worth wile experience to have. “But you have to play for me first.”

“Oh, my God.” You gasped as you walked over to the gorgeous grand piano in the middle of the room. “This is a Steinway.”

“I take it that’s a good thing?” He asked as he opened the keys cover for you and gestured to the bench.

“You have no idea. We had one of these at Juilliard for showcases, but I never…” You shook your head as you gingerly danced your fingers across a few keys and slowly sat down on the bench. “Oh, it’s so beautiful.”

“So you want me to play bocce with you or what?” He asked as he nodded at one of the bartenders who were preparing the bar for when the boarding process began in a less than an hour. With a smile, you nodded your head, turned your attention to the black and white keys, and started playing ‘Clair de Lune’ by Debussy.

Just like you had the very first time you played a note, you were instantly lost in the sound. It took you away to another place, where everything was much simpler and black and white. It was like a cloud lifted you off the bench and took you a million miles away, cradling you and lightening the dark parts of your orphaned soul that had been marred by the system that failed so many children before and after you, and a society that mostly fended for themselves. The piano spoke in ways you knew you would ever be able to, expressing itself much more fluently than you even believed possible.

As he leaned on the bar and sipped on his scotch, Jeff felt something he had never felt with a Sugar Baby before. A desire that he had assumed had all but disappeared when he caught Hillarie with another man. Part of him wanted to snuff it out as fear overwhelmed him, but the other part, the much bigger part, wanted you more than he had even wanted Hillarie. You had a fire in you that he could already feel warmed the darkest reaches of his soul, and a mischievousness to you that made him want to get in a little trouble just for the fun of it. He loved how easy it was to talk to you, and how you checked all of your inhibitions at the door, which made him wish he was able to do the same thing.

‘No one would want to be with some… old man like you.’ Even six years later, Hillarie’s words still cut like a knife straight through the heart, reminding him exactly why dating Sugar Baby’s was the best thing for him. It had been the same script that played through his head whenever he had moments like this. Moments where he thought he’d be able to move on in life and find someone that could stand spending any length of time with him for any reason other than his money. Which is the exact reason why using his money to pay for company that otherwise wouldn’t want to be with him anyways was the only way to go at his age. He startled the slightest bit when the bartenders beside him clapped when you finished your song, the sound pushing his thoughts away for the time being, and he joined them as well as you turned on the bench and blushed.

“Oh, stop.” You laughed as you slipped your shoes back on and stood up. “That’s an easy one.”

“Well, I’m so glad I thought long ago that it would be a good idea to put a piano in the suite we’re in too.” Jeff said as he set his glass down and stuck out his hand for yours.

“Can we just go see it?” You asked with a smile as you let go of his hand to lace your arm with his. “For like one song length of time. And then maybe go down to the pool to people watch for a while before dinner?” He smiled and nodded his head as he led you to the elevators to go up to the fourteenth deck.

“That sounds like an absolutely fucking perfect idea, sweetheart.”

Part 3

#negan x reader #Ain't sayin' she's a gold digger #Negan's thirst squad #Negan thirst squad

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nickelkeep · 4 years

Photo

What Mattered Most

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen, for some profanity. Word Count: 6.1K Warnings: Pining, Internalized Homophobia Written For: Nickel’s Storytime On Ao3

Dean stormed into Crowley’s office, despite the warnings from the overworked and underpaid assistant. He threw the copy of Rolling Stone he carried onto Crowley’s desk and waited for his demon of an agent to get off his phone call.

“Seems I forgot about a meeting. A client just showed up at my office.” Crowley shot a smile in warning at Dean. “We’ll catch up soon. I want you to tell me all about this new talent of yours, Kipling. Until next time.” Crowley hung up the phone and picked up the magazine. “Ah, yes. Thursday James. Apparently Country’s brightest new star.” He tossed it back on his desk. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“I want to come out,” Dean replied simply and plainly. “I have hidden for the past 15 years because you said my music wouldn’t sell. I’m done not being me, I’m done hiding.” He pointed at the magazine. “He’s been on the scene for six months, and he booked a Stones cover? It took me seven years, Crowley. Seven! They never put country artists on the front.”

Crowley sighed and picked up the magazine and stared at it for a few silent moments before dropping it back on his desk. “No.”

“What the fucking hell!?” Dean’s arms shot out to the sides in exasperation before he pulled them back in, gripping his fingers on the chairback in front of him. “I have done everything you have ever asked of me, Crowley. I am just sick of living a damn lie.”

“So, you want to be ridiculed and laughed out of the country music scene?” Crowley pushed himself to his feet and leaned forward. While Dean had several inches on him, Crowley’s presence alone could cause most to back off. “You have succeeded in this world because you pushed that life away. You have sold out arenas because you are what women want and what men aspire to be. Until you retire, you are the straight, all-American boy. Do you understand?”

“No. I don’t.” Dean stormed back to the doors and swung them open, exposing Sam and Charlie, his lawyer and PR person. “So, I quit.”

“You really want to throw away your, as you acknowledged, 15-year career because you can’t hold hands with a man in public?” Crowley rolled his eyes as Sam and Charlie sat in the chairs across from him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dean. I have not led you wrong. I have not given you any bad advice.”

“You did, 17 years ago, when you first found Dean,” Charlie spoke up.

“He wasn’t out then, and he’s not out now.” Crowley tilted his head and looked at Dean. “Are you?”

“Not yet.” Dean shook his head.

Sam sighed exasperatedly. “For what it’s worth, Fergus, I did advise him to ask you differently. That being said, I don’t disagree with my brother. He’s done everything you asked. It’s been 15 years, and clearly, the world has changed.” Sam pointed at the magazine on the desk. “The world is in love with Thursday James. He’s proven that being queer isn’t a crime. And we’re not changing who Dean is. We’re not asking for chaps and songs about rainbows. We’re just asking you to let him be the person he’s hidden for 15 years. For you.”

“He doesn’t need a big coming-out party.” Crowley gestured at Dean. “Is there a person you’re interested in dating, Dean? Is that what this is? Go on a date. You’re not restricted to going out solo or having beards anymore.”

“Not good enough.” Charlie tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed down to his briefcase. “As Dean’s lawyer and PR, we’re submitting an amendment to his contract, advising of it’s instant and final termination in regards to Article 2, Section 13.”

“A conflict of interest?” Crowley shook his head. “This is not a conflict of interest. This is me trying to protect my client, which is my job as his manager.”

Sam pulled out the stack of paper and set it on top of the magazine. “It’s a clean cut. We pay you a lump sum that equals 13% of his projected income for the next five years, which is a current 5% more than you take right now. Dean comes off your roster instantly.”

Crowley picked up the papers and quickly flipped through. “I also give up my rights to royalty and merchandising profits. Why?”

“Didn’t think you wanted to be associated with a gay country singer, Crowley.” Dean stood between Charlie and Sam, hands shoved in his pockets as he rocked back and forth from heel to toe. “Figured that 5% would make up for it.”

“Dean. Listen to yourself. You really want to throw our partnership away?” Crowley was practically pleading with Dean. “Why do you want to do this to your career?”

“Crowley, if my fans truly love me, I won’t lose them. And if anything, I’m openly welcoming a whole group of potential fans who think they’re not wanted. This is what’s best for not only me but also for the future of Country.”

Crowley stood up straight and rubbed at his temples. “Fine.” He handed the contract amendment back to Sam. “Believe it or not, I do want you happy, Dean.” He turned to the petite redhead sitting with a giant smirk on her face. “I’m assuming you’ve already started a plan?”

“Yes, but there’s one more thing.” Charlie pointed at Sam. “It was your idea.”

“In order to stay on as Dean’s manager, you will sign a different amendment. I’m going to start the official paperwork. Once you and Charlie come to a full and equal agreement for Dean’s coming out, it will be added to the contract, and both you and Dean will sign it.” Sam opened his suitcase back up and slid the defunct amendment into it. “We have an understanding, Fergus?”

“Yes.” Crowley nodded as he sat in his chair. “I think this is the first time I’ve been outwitted by a client.” He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach. “Shall we begin, then?”

…

Thursday James took a deep breath as he took a final bow for the crowd that had come out to see him. While he was excited that his career was taking off, he had never expected how exhausting it would be. He stepped off the stage and into the wings, where he was greeted by his manager and best friend, Balthazar.

“Cassie! That was fantastic, as always!” Balthazar clapped his hand on Thursday’s - Cas’ - shoulder and led him back towards the dressing room. “You simply wowed the hall.”

“If you say so.” Cas slid off his mask, mindlessly playing with the fringe as Balthazar opened the door for him. He crossed over to his seat in front of the mirror and ran his hand down his face. “So. To what do I owe this pleasure? I wasn’t expecting you until St. Louis.”

“I am so very glad that you asked.” Balthazar crossed over to the sofa as Cas started his aftershow routine, beginning with the removal of his eye make-up. “Word of a fascinating tour came through the grapevine, and only a select handful of artists were invited.”

Cas perked up an eyebrow. “So, either I was invited, or you’re trying to get them to bring me along.”

“You were personally invited. By a Charlene Bradbury.” Cas’ head whipped up, and he stared at Balth’s reflection in the mirror. “I see you remember that name.”

“Charlie?” Cas frowned and turned around and stared at Balthazar, mouth agape. “Does she know?”

“Doubtful. Sia could learn a few lessons from you in hiding identity.” Balthazar leaned forward and clasped his hands together. His face turned serious. “Look, I understand the surprise, and I know I’m going to be fighting to get a yes out of you...”

“Damn right, you are! I’m not going on tour with Dean Winchester!”

“Let me finish, Cassie.” Balthazar tugged at his sleeves and fixed them before continuing. “Dean’s been a leader in the industry for 15 years. He’d be exposing you to fellow musicians, new venues, and possibly new members for your staff. Maybe you could steal Charlie out from under him?”

Cas shook his head. “Not happening, Balth. I can’t do it. He headlines arenas, he’s a damn star. I’m...” Cas choked on his own words, unable to finish the sentence. “You knew I would say no, why did you bring it up?”

“Well, for starters, it was 15 years ago. So why dwell on it? If you want him to know it’s you, you can show him that you outshone him in a matter of months.” Balthazar appeared to preen himself at those words. “But there’s an even bigger rumor involving the tour. Dean’s announcing something big.”

“He’s going to be the first country artist in space?” Cas deadpanned.

Balthazar let himself laugh at that. “I honestly don’t know. Charlie wouldn’t spill any beans. But, the rumor is that he’s going to retire.”

“Dean’s 36. Not happening.” Cas shook his head. “He’s got a lifetime ahead of him.”

“Okay, well the people who tour with him, get to find out first, and I am a nosy bastard, okay?”

“You’re a bastard, alright.” Cas picked up the mask he had worn for the evening and started fidgeting with the fringe. “And you’re not winning me over for this tour.”

“Fine. Rumor aside, here are the facts, from the devil herself. It’s a short 10 stop tour. All of the venues are 4000 people or less, either on college campuses or at smaller theaters.”

“That’s a huge step back for Dean.” Cas ran a hand through his hair and squinted at Balthazar. “I can see why retirement is a rumor associated with the tour.”

“That’s not all. The first stop?” Balthazar paused and bit his bottom lip. “Lied Center at KU.”

“Home?”

…

Dean looked up from his notepad as Charlie entered the studio in the home he shared with her and Sam. “What’s up, Red?”

“I got the final tour line up.” She held up a notepad of her own before crossing over to sit next to Dean. “Still writing?”

“He is.” Sam looked up from his desk. “And driving me crazy. Please get him to stop.”

“I changed my mind, Sam. I’m not writing a brand new song. I’m fixing an old one.” Dean turned to Charlie. “Hit me.”

“We’re going to go with four acts in total. First, a 20-minute set for your opener, a band coming out of hiatus, Tina & Her Pony. Second, We got Thursday James, which there’s a big caveat, but I got him.” She stole a glance at Sam, who was glaring at her.

“Sam’s going to kill you now, I’m okay with this. Continue.” Dean half-joked before gesturing for her to continue.

“Thursday is on for a 30-minute set. And, and, and! Brandi Carlile is on board, also for a 30-minute set assuming that yours is only 45. She’s got a hell of a negotiator on her team. Wonder if she’s single.”

“Brandi, or her negotiator?” Sam leaned forward on his desk, chin resting on his knuckles.

“Her negotiator. That wit. That charm. Ugh. So unfair.” Charlie let out a little sigh before shaking it off and looking at Dean. “So, did I do good?”

“You did fantastic.” Dean set down his pen and paper before pulling Charlie into a hug. “So, what’s the caveat with Thursday James?”

Charlie winced. “Shit, I was hoping you’d forget about that.” She flipped through her pad and pulled out two sheets of paper, handing one to Dean before getting up and taking the other to Sam. “It’s well known that Mr. James is private. I took the time to look up his previous riders. NDAs, no pictures unless he’s in a mask, pretty simple stuff. His agent - who’s name sounds so familiar - sent over his ‘standard rider’ and an amendment specific to this tour.”

“No guest appearances during his set, no requesting him to come on during another person’s set, and no requesting to hang out after shows.” Sam started to rattle off what he was reading. “What the hell?”

“I asked Meg, Brandi’s negotiator, to let me know if she got the amendment as well. I know that Tina & Her Pony didn’t get it as of yet, but Mr. James’ manager may not have sent it to them yet.” Charlie shrugged. “It is strange, but it’s not unheard of.”

“Well,” Dean shrugged, “if it gets him on tour with us, then I’m happy to do it.”

Sam nodded. “I mean, it’s not a bad request. I’ve heard Sia’s rider is insane. Like, you can’t even talk to her between sets.”

“Agoraphobia’s a thing, Sam. Lighten up.” Dean swallowed hard, a brief memory from his past flashing through his mind. “Charles, they okay being on a tour that’s literally called ‘The Thanks for Coming Out Tour,’ or do we have to change that?”

“I may not have mentioned that.” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck.

“WHAT!?” Dean and Sam cried out in unison.

Charlie held up her hands in defense. “Look, we don’t want Dean’s announcement blown before he gets to make it himself, right?” She waited until Dean nodded. “I’m going to get Sam to write up an NDA for the name, then Dean’s going to announce it with the tour dates on his website in a video.”

“So they don’t get to know the name of the tour until they sign the NDA, and if they don’t sign the NDA?” Sam questioned.

“Then, they can be replaced.” Charlie brushed it off. “But after speaking with Meg and Mr. James’ representative - why the fuck can’t I remember his name? - It sounds like they’re okay with it. I think they like knowing that they’ll be in on a rumor before the rest of the world.”

Dean stole a glance at his younger brother, who let out an exhausted sigh before speaking. “I’ll leave you to your magic, Charlie. You’ve never led us astray before. Just tell me what I need to write up and get out for you.”

…

“Cassie!” Balthazar closed the door shut behind him and held up a folder. “They accepted the terms of your rider with the NDAs and sent them over, signed. Charlie’s getting the rest of their crew to fill them out, and we should have them within 48 hours.” He flipped the folder open. “They responded with a note: ‘We fully honor the requests of Mr. James’ privacy rider. However, if he finds himself in need of someone to speak to, Dean and his crew will be available.’ How charming.”

“Shut up, Balth.” Cas kicked his feet up. “I’m assuming they sent the dates over?”

“Yes, and the rest of the lineup. Tina & Her Pony, you, Brandi Carlile, and Dean.” Balthazar pulled out a paper and handed it to Cas. “There’s also an NDA for you and I to sign. They don’t want the tour’s name to go public until Dean announces it, but they want to make sure we’re okay touring under it.”

Cas looked up from the paper. “I’m assuming you already signed for me?”

“Of course, Cassie.” Balthazar sat down and rested his ankle on his knee. “It adds weight to the retiring theory. ‘The Thanks for Coming Out Tour.’”

Cas chuckled. “One can only hope. I realized that the longer we’re in the industry together, the harder it will be to hide my identity from him.”

“There is that, yes.”

“You still think I should just tell him.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest and slouched down in his chair. “I can’t do that, Balth. I didn’t work my ass off for my career to spite him.”

“You can tell that to the people who don’t know you better, Cassie.”

“If I wanted to spite him, I’d be going by Castiel Novak, not Thursday James. I would show my face and not hide behind a mask. This has always been for me, Balth. I did this. For me.” Cas hung his head. “He wouldn’t care how hard I worked anyway.”

Balthazar pushed himself out of his seat and crossed to Cas before crouching down in front of him. “I can’t pretend to know what happened, Cassie. But when you two went your separate ways? I still believe a little piece of him died.”

“You’re right. You don’t know what happened. And as much as I love you? As much as I’m thankful every day that you’re my manager, my cousin, and my best friend? You do not and will not ever know.” Cas wiped a tear away. “I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”

“It’s not too late for us to back out. I’ve been informed that there are acts dying to fill the spots for this tour.” Balthazar rested a hand on Cas’ knee and squeezed gently. “If you want me to go cancel, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

Cas shook his head. “We’ve already signed a million and two pieces of paper, and put in the request to have the riders printed. I got through most of the autographed merch pile...” Cas looked at Balthazar. “As long as he honors the NDAs and riders, I can get through this. It’s ten stops. And if we’re lucky, he’s retiring.”

“Are you taking off the mask the day of or the day after he announces his retirement?” Balthazar smiled, clearly trying to get Cas to laugh. “We can throw a huge party announcing your real identity.”

“Well, if he announces it at KU like you think he is, then I have to wait for an additional nine more tour stops.” Cas attempted to return his cousin’s mirth. “But, I will say that I’ve gotten attached to the name Thursday James.”

“Then, we do an interview with the highest bidder to get an inside look at your life.” Balthazar stood up, his knees cracking. “Oh, bloody hell. When did I get so old?”

“Shut up, you’re only three years older.”

“Don’t waste those three precious years, my darling Cassie.” Balthazar gently patted Cas’ cheek. “Looking forward to losing the mask?”

Cas paused, thinking before nodding. “Once this tour is over, and Dean’s retired? I’ll lose the mask.”

…

Dean stared out the window as his tour bus pulled up behind the Lied Center. Two other buses were there, as was a small caravan of vans, and Dean made a mental note to offer to charter a bus for the tour’s opening act.

“Nervous?” Sam walked up next to him and looked out the window.

“I mean, when’s the last time we were home, Sammy?” Dean looked to his brother and tried to fight the nervous frown on his face. “The closest before was Topeka, and those Will-Call tickets were never picked up.”

Sam let out a sigh. “I meant about coming out tonight, but I guess that works too. You want Cas here, don’t you?” Dean nodded, and Sam continued. “It’s been almost twenty years, Dean. I know you’re still in love with him, but you need–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Sam. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I’m going to, but only because you need to hear this. You need to move on. I found out about your... something, with Cas because of that god damned song. You think you could have hidden that you’re gay from Charlie and me?”

“It’s my decision if I move on or not. And I don’t want to. I never have. And, to be honest, Charlie knew.” Dean turned in his seat. “And I wanted to tell you sooner, but...”

“But I was a loud-mouthed kid, and Dad would have killed you. I get it.” Sam sat across from Dean. “You gotta know, Dean. I have only ever wanted to see you happy.”

“Thank you, Sammy.” Dean looked over to the bus door, Sam’s head turned to look as well, as it opened.

Charlie walked up the stairs, her fingers in a peace sign. “What’s up, bitches?” She hip-checked Sam and sat down next to him as he slid over. “Dean?”

“It’s just weird being home.” He swallowed. “You get everything set up?”

“Of course I did, and before you ask, yes, I checked to make sure that a pair of tickets were held for a Castiel Novak at Will-Call.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and started going over it. “Benny and the boys want to know if you have the setlist finished.”

“Yeah.” He flipped up a piece of paper and slid it over to Charlie as he prepared for their pre-venue checklist.

…

“I know you can see it, Cassie.” Balthazar took a sip from a water bottle before handing one to Cas. “How are you holding up?”

“We’re back in Lawrence. I’m on tour with Dean, but it’s as a solo act.” Cas set the bottle down and looked up at Balthazar. “Balth, did I make the right choice, or was I too lenient in letting you twist my arm?”

“Well, that’s not fair. I’ve never made you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Cas ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. Even when it could have made us - how did you say it? - filthy fucking rich, you never forced me to do it.” He picked up the mask in front of him, an emerald green one with gold embroidery and fringe, and gently traced his fingers over the ornate pattern. “I’m making a huge fucking mistake.”

“Cassie. You have been having this fight with yourself for the past month while the tour dates got finalized. We are here.” Balthazar picked the bottle up and cracked it open before handing it back to Cas. “If you need alcohol, I’ll give you a couple of shots after your set, per your rider.”

“Can we break my rider for once?” Cas pinched the bridge of his nose before picking up the bottle and taking a sip. “So, what do you need?”

“Since we’re borrowing Dean’s band for the tour, their leader - a handsome, hopefully single, drummer named Benny - is asking for a finalized setlist. He also wants to do a test run of a song or two with you for the sound crew.”

Cas pushed himself out of his seat and went back to his bedroom. He grabbed a notebook off of the bed. He stole a quick look at the picture on his nightstand - a reminder from his life 17 years ago - before rejoining Balthazar. He handed the paper over and sat back down. “Small change from the usual list.”

“Cassie...” Balthazar looked up from the setlist.

“I don’t need your criticism right now. I made sure that the song was on the possible choice list for the tour.” Cas put on his mask.

Balthazar shook his head. “Not criticizing. Just worried about you.”

…

Dean was on edge as the concert started. He had paced his dressing room until Tina & Her Pony started the first song of their set. Per his request, Charlie had gotten their music on his phone, so he could listen to it, but hearing them live was much better. He calmed down and finally sat on the sofa, drinking the water Sam forced on him.

“You look like you’re going to faint.” Sam took the seat in front of the mirror and checked himself before turning around to face Dean. “You do your grounding technique?”

“Yes, Samantha.” Dean rested his forehead in his palms and stared at the ground. “They’re probably not going to answer at the box office, are they?”

“You’re not going to find out, Dean.” Charlie looked up from her phone. “I will unplug that phone if necessary.”

Dean harrumphed and slunk down further into his seat.

“Seriously, Dean. What’s finding out if he’s here going to do? If he didn’t come, you’re going to be mopey. If he did come, you’re going to be so nervous you can’t perform.” Sam pointed at him. “Go through your grounding again.”

“I’m fine.” Dean closed his eyes and focused on the current set piping through the speakers. He gave himself a silent reminder to provide Charlie with a raise for picking the duo for the tour’s opening act.

A few songs later, one of the members thanked the audience and told them to enjoy the rest of the show. Dean opened his eyes and looked up to the monitor, and watched as they waved and stepped offstage. The stage crew stepped in quickly and prepped for the next set. Dean sat up in surprise as he watched them roll a baby grand onto the stage, not remembering which of Thursday James’ songs required it.

“Charlie?” Dean smacked her shoulder and pointed to the monitor. “I don’t remember that on his list.”

“I have no idea.” Charlie sat up in her seat and leaned forward, aptly paying attention alongside Dean.

…

Cas was incredibly impressed and surprised by how easily his set had gone so far. He was humbled and honored by the sheer number of people who were cheering for him, and he used their energy to wash away his dread and apprehension.

“Ladies, Men, and Gentlethem.” He pulled the mic out of the stand and spoke into it as he walked over to the piano. “There’s a little something special I wanted to do for you all tonight.”

The crowd cheered, and Cas took the opportunity to inhale deeply as he put the mic into the stand clipped on the piano.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s not a new song, but a song that you all are familiar with. When I first wrote it, I had intended it as a piano ballad.” Cas sat down and adjusted the mic. “A few of you may have already noted it missing from the lineup, but it’s one that I’ll always sing until I can’t anymore.”

Cas ran his fingers over the keys in a brief allegro, stirring the crowd up even more. He took in another deep breath and closed his eyes before hitting the first chord of the song.

Catch ’em by surprise and Chasin’ the horizon Nothing holds me down Askin’, “Where the time’s gone?” Dreamin’ with the lights on Tryna keep your eyes on Something along the rise

You and I Bide our time And I miss summertime

Cas found himself surprised by the number of cheers as he played. While he was there to perform for the concert-goers, this was for him. This was to get him through the remainder of the tour.

Catch him on the run, they Punish those who love young Never right on time Watch each other fallin’ Always catch the call and Whistle while we’re walkin’ Something inside me dies

You and I Why, oh, why? And I miss summertime

Cas swayed in his seat, letting the piano run through him. He fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

Keep on rockin’, baby Keep on risin’ on the tide Son of a gun and maybe We’ll be ridin’ all night Something inside me dies You and I, You and I Bide our time. And I, I miss summertime

You and I Why, oh, why? And I miss summertime

Cas hit the final chord of the song, and the venue exploded. He stared at the keys for a few moments, letting the tears fall softly before nodding. “Thank you, everyone. Enjoy the rest of the concert. Up in just a few minutes will be the amazing Brandi Carlile!”

He stood up and waved before quickly walking offstage. Balthazar led him to his dressing room. Once the door was shut, Balthazar pulled Cas into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I am so sorry, Cassie. I never realized it.”

“Realized what?” Cas sniffled.

“You two. You and Dean? You were together.”

Cas swallowed and looked up at Balthazar. At a loss for words, there was only one thing he could do. He broke down and sobbed into his cousin’s arms.

…

Dean was still shaking from Thursday’s set when he was given his five-minute warning. Brandi was terrific, and he looked forward to hanging out with her after the show, but the way that Thursday sang, the smooth whiskey sound, the profound heartbreak... Dean knew there was more there. Something was entirely familiar to him, and it was driving him crazy that he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Dean walked out to the stage, waiting in the wings for Benny to start their opening number with the rest of the band. He tried to shake himself loose, rolling his neck and stretching out when Charlie walked up to him.

“You’re working yourself up, Dean.”

“Yeah, and I’m about to come out to a sold-out auditorium, which is probably going to go viral. Forgive me if I’m nervous that I’m going to kill my career tonight.” Dean pulled his arm in front of his chest, stretching out his shoulder, before switching to the other.

“And you’re so full of shit.” Charlie looked out to the stage as Benny counted the band out. “Break a leg, Dean.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before stepping back further into the wing.

Dean shook himself out one more time, putting on a great big smile and ran out on stage, waving to the crowd. “Good Evening, Lawrence!”

The crowd roared, and Dean broke into his first song. Their energy was contagious, and it took all of Dean’s power to not come out right then and there. He wanted to ride the high and get it over with. But people came out on an excellent show, and he was going to give it to them. And it was all he could hope that they would still be fans when all was said and done.

After the eighth song in his set, yes, he’d been counting, Dean smiled at the crowd and winked. “I think it’s that time, huh?” He took his guitar that he had acquired during the second song off, and walked it to a stand. He picked up his acoustic guitar and grabbed a stool before setting back up in front of the mic.

“First and foremost, I want to thank y’all for coming out tonight.” Dean sat on the stool and pulled the guitar strap over his head. “I’m not sure if y’all know, but Lawrence is actually my hometown.” Cheers and whistles rifled through the crowd. “I was born and raised here, stayed until I was 19 years old. Ran off to Nashville, found a manager who thought I was decent, and here I am. Blessed by fans like y’all.

“And I mean it when I say I’m truly honored to have so many wonderful fans. But there’s something that’s been eating me up inside for a long time, and I need to be honest with y’all.” Dean strummed absentmindedly on his guitar, his fingers starting the beginning notes from memory. “Eleven years ago, my second album came out, and on it is a song that means so much to me.

But my manager, even though I’m not which one more, was concerned for my career and my safety. He refused to let me include it on the album unless I changed the pronouns.” Dean bristled at the hushed whispers going through the crowd. “While that song turned out to be one of my most significant hits, I’ve never forgiven myself for letting that change be forced onto it.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m gay. And Cas, if you’re out there. Anywhere. This has always been your song, sunshine.”

…

Cas fell off of the sofa.

The room spun around, and Balthazar joined him in a heartbeat as he stared up at the screen. His mind was racing a mile a minute as he thought through Dean’s discography.

I thought I knew the boy so well If he was sad, I couldn’t tell I missed the point I missed the signs So if he’s gone the fault is mine I know, I know a whole lot little things And even though I could list them one by one Oh, he would still be gone

Cas sucked in sharply. He knew this song. He knew it better than he would ever care to admit. He had often dreamt about it being for him.

His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His favorite song is “In My Life” I memorized his every move I knew his books, his car, his clothes But I paid no attention to what mattered most

Cas pushed himself up to his feet, relying on Balthazar’s shoulder for support. His eyes were locked on the screen, feet unable to move.

I never asked he never said And when he cried, I turned my head He dreamed his dreams behind closed doors That made them easy to ignore I know, I know I missed the forest for the trees All I have to show Oh, when he walked out the door The cold facts and nothing more

Cas started to the door, ignoring Balthazar calling after him. He ran out the door, making it to the stage as Dean began the final refrain.

His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His father’s tall His mother’s gone He moved out west when he was two The way he laughed The way he loved Oh my god, what did I do?

He dreamed his dreams behind closed doors I never asked he never said

Cas looked out to the crowd as Dean got a standing ovation. He wanted Dean to have this moment, to know that the audience would still love him, regardless of orientation. But Cas also wanted to know if Dean still loved him. He needed to know.

He started to walk out on stage when a hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him back. “Holy shit. Cas? You? You’re here?” Charlie looked him up and down. “Oh my god. Thursday James. Castiel James Novak.”

“Please, Charlie. Can I?”

“You have a lot of explaining to do, but you both do.” She turned him around and pushed him gently. “Go get him, and make him whole again. Please.”

…

Dean gave a final wave to the crowd before turning to walk off of the stage. He looked up from his boots, and his eyes met the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and he’d never forget. Dean’s knees went weak and out from under him, and he grabbed the stool he’d just been sitting on. “Cas?”

An electric buzz shot through the crowd as the realization settled over the venue. Cas looked out to the audience, then took a few steps closer. Dean pushed himself to his knees, staring in awe.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked Cas up and down when everything clicked. “Thursday... Castiel. Fuck. How did I...?”

Cas finished closing the distance between them and held his hand down. Dean took it and allowed Cas to help pull him to his feet. Once standing, Dean hesitantly reached forward, his hand faintly touching Cas’ cheek. Cas took Dean’s hand and pressed it against his cheek, and Dean felt the first sob wreck through his body.

“That song has always been for me?” Cas whispered, and Dean nodded, unable to find his words out of shock. “You never stopped?”

“Loving you?” Dean shook his head. “Never. It has always been you, Cas. I knew what I lost, and I couldn’t move on. I won’t ever move on from you.”

Cas leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Dean’s, and Dean felt Cas’ mouth break into a smile as cheers erupted from the crowd. “Am I dreaming, Dean?”

“God, I hope not, Cas.” Dean brought his other hand up, holding Cas’ face as he rested their foreheads together. “I have missed you, so much, Cas.”

“You don’t have to anymore, Dean.” Cas kissed Dean again, reclaiming his lost love for himself and no longer dreaming behind closed doors.

#profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #spn fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel #au - modern #au - music #singer!dean #singer!castiel #hidden identity #lost love #reunions #rating: teen #nickel writes

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jj-lynn21 · 4 years

Text

How A Girl Must Live Ch 4

Ch. 4: Dating

Ch1: A place for singles , Ch 2: Popular Ch 3: opening up Ch 5: Family Ch 6 Violence begets Violence Ch 7 Love Birds

taging: @super-pink-a-palouza @luciferreads @glasglowgrin @loomiz @princessloveme123 @hornyhetero @taintedglass @bohemian-brian @maryan028 , @scxrsgxrd, lizziejorgie, @waywardtigersandwich

Warnings: attempted rape, other angst,smoking, mentions of drinking, fluff

“Good luck finding a date after getting the most sought-after boy thrown out.” Missy snidely threw at Samantha as she was leaving with her escort for dinner. “Unless you are actually dating the creepy, crazy, poor, maintenance guy.”

Samantha was flabbergasted by the statement. There was one more month on dating etiquette and how to be a lady and wife. It was all trying to brain wash young ladies into not thinking for themselves. Bowing to whatever their husband desired whenever he desired it.

Willard made her feel special. He made her feel like her opinions meant something. He was a gentleman already without needing taught how. It didn’t mean a thing he didn’t have a trust fund to set them up for life. And the only thing he had ever taken from her was her heart. She was still in a little denial of that.

When he took her into town for the afternoon it was one of the best times she ever had in her life. They strolled along the sidewalk hand in hand. She adored a lot of the pretty dresses in the window.

He told her that eventual he would like to make enough money to buy her all the dresses she wanted and the house she always dreamed of having. She especially enjoyed sharing a soda with him at the ice cream shop.

A half an hour after dinner had started for those with escorts, Samantha decided to escort herself to the dining room. As she grasped the doorknob there was a knock. When she opened it, she threw herself around him practically in tears.

“There, there sweetheart,” Willard stroked her hair gently. “I was worried when I didn’t see you at dinner. Did your date flake out on you?”

She looked up eyes puffy, “They all hate me because that awful boy. He had money to whisk a girl away for her to live like a Princess. That is all they cared about. They don’t care how he acted towards me. They only care about his station. I don’t care about any of that. I just care about you.”

He talked softly, “I care about ya to. I wanted ya to get the most out of this place. I didn’t know they were treatin’ ya bad. If ya want, we will leave tomorra. Don’t even tell anyone. We will drive to your parents. I’ll tell ‘em what happened here. I wanna to ask your father permission to date you proper. Then I wanna pick ya up proper at your house for a date.”

“Really, Willard?” She started to beam at him forgetting her sadness for the moment.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled back lighting up her soul. “Now let me sneak ya down to the kitchen. Your roommates will probably be back from dinner soon. I’ll getcha some real food. Maybe there’s a couple of them steaks left I can get Miss Jenna to cook up for us with some taters. Pack your bags when the others fall asleep. I’ll come getcha when they go to breakfast.”

She did not care about his station in life. She might be...maybe she could be...she was falling in love for the first time in her life. She held her head high as the others passed them in the hall staring. She held Willard’s hand proudly.

The chef’s helper was just cleaning up as they walked in the kitchen. She looked up puzzled to see anyone in the kitchen after dinner.

“Good evening Mrs. Jenna.” Willard smiled. “Miss Samantha slept right through dinner tonight. Are there any leftovers we could have?”

Mrs. Jenna smiled. “I think there are a few steaks and salads left. Sorry there are no potatoes. But I have some peach pie for dessert. It was for the staff so none of the other students had any.”

“That is mighty kind of you Mrs. Jenna.” Willard found some chairs pulling them up to the counter.

Mrs. Jenna wiped down a few more things before turning to the couple. “Do you mind cleaning up after yourselves? My husband is probably waiting outside for me. I must go make dinner for him next. I think the poor man would starve without me.” She giggled like a schoolgirl.

“No problem Mrs. Jenna.” Samantha said after patting her mouth with a napkin delicately. “Thank you for throwing this together for us.”

“Anything to promote true love.” Mrs. Jenna rushed out the door.

Samantha blushed as she took a small bite of steak. They both ate quietly for a few minutes. It was a comfortable silence.

“I can do up the dishes if you clean off the table?” Samantha suggested before she took her last bite.

She hadn’t looked up so didn’t notice he had finished before her just admiring how she look under the dim light above them. “I can do that and dry the dishes for ya. Anything high I can put away or pick you up to do. It is always up to the lady in charge of the kitchen in my opinion. In this instance that’s you.”

She laughed. “Is that just an excuse to sweep me off my feet Willard?” She picked up his pie plate, main plate and empty water glass to wash them.

It was Willard's turn to blush as he grabbed a wet rag from by the sink to wash off the table. “It is not only that.” he murmured.”

“What was that?” She grabbed a soapy sponge to start cleaning the things they use.

He walked over beside her to exchange his damp cloth for a dry one. “I’ll dry these up quick. I’m good at it I reckon. Better than washin’ for sure.”

“Well, I’m good at the washing so we make a good team.” She handed him a dish to dry. He just put it on the top shelf after drying it.

Willard walked her back to her room. He rubbed is neck a little nervously as they stood by the door. “You still think you are up to introducing me to your Mother and father.”

“I sure am.” she beamed. “As soon as I know all the girls are asleep, I will pack my things quietly. I don’t think they would care much if I left anyway. Good night Mr. Willard Russel.” She leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek before scurrying off inside the room.

“Night Miss Samantha.” He realized he had not asked her last name yet. It was something he could ask tomorrow. He wanted to greet her Mother and Father proper so her Father would give him permission to date her and possibly marry his daughter someday.

The next morning Samantha pretended to be asleep as her roommates got ready for their breakfast dates. They still whispered about her affair with Mr. Russel. How they thought she was being promiscuous with him. They were such vile girls.

When their escorts had picked them up Samantha sprung out of bed to get ready for her adventure with Willard. She was nervous since she had never gone away with any man in a car other than her Father. But anything was less scary than staying at the resort with people that thought she was trash.

As she finished putting the finishing touches on her light make-up routine there was a knock on the door. Her heart leaped. She opened the door and all the excitement drained from her replaced by apprehension.

“Mr. Preston?” She put her hands on her hips angrily. “What are you doing here.”

Mr. Preston was best friends with Mr. Goodland in and out of the resort. Him, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Jonas had been taking turns with escorting and going on dates with her roommates.

“My roommates have already been escorted to breakfast.” She started to close the door.

Mr. Preston kept it open with his hand. “I know that Miss Samantha.” He grinned lecherously as he walked in the room grabbing her upper arms pushing her back on to the bed.

“This is not how a gentleman acts, Mr. Preston.” She managed to free her hand to smack him hard in the face.

His head bobbed back. A distinctive hand print marked him. “Oh, you like it rough. I have never had sex with a wild girl.” He pinned her arms above her head with one hand as he undid his dress pants with the other. “You give Mr. Russel a piece, you should have no problem with me taking you. Stop squirming.” He slaps her and tries to pull her panties off under her puffy dress.

Suddenly he is yanked off the bed with a stronger force than he had ever felt. Samantha slithered off the bed to the far wall. She was shaking. Her knees bent to her chest. Preston was glaring once he stood.

“You will not treat women with disrespect if I have anything to do with it.” Willard Russel was breathing heavily. He was holding back what he really wanted to do to the boy since Samantha was there.

“You and your little hussy will be thrown out of this place.” Preston screamed as he ran out the door knowing he could never beat Willard in a fight.

Mr. Russel knelt in front of Samantha with his hand extended. “Samantha, I’m sorry about all that violence. Will you still come with me? Just forget this place completely. Mr. Jones already knows we are leavin’.”

Samantha’s eyes lifted to his slowly. “We need to leave.” Her voice was meek and shaky.

He helps her to her feet. She wraps her arms around his neck as tears flood her eyes. He picks her. Grabbed her suitcase. And heads out the door to his car. He puts her in the front seat and her suitcase in the back seat before getting in to drive away from the resort.

“You pay no mind to what Mr. Preston said, Sam.” He popped a cigarette in the left corners of his mouth and lit it. “I already told them we we leavin’.”

Samantha wrapped the scarf from her neck around her hair so her hair wouldn’t go wild in the convertible. “Can, can I have a cigarette Mr. Russel, Willard?” She asked shakily. “It might help me calm down.”

“It sure it will little lady.” He took the pack out of his pocket to offer her one. He lit it politely. “I think it was horse shit they only let the men and boys smoke and drink around here.” He started driving away from the resort. “I was wondering if any of you partook in such things.”

“My roommates were finding places the smoke.” She took a long drag sitting back enjoying the way the wind whipped around them. “I chose to follow the rules but damn I missed it.” Her free hand shot up to her lips. “I am sorry, Willard.”

“Sorry for what, little lady?” He kept his eyes on the road as he puffed on cigarette hanging between his lips.

“That I swore.” She blushed.

Willard chuckled. “Nothin’ wrong with it in my book. Just don’t take the Lords name in vein around my Mamma.”

“You want me to meet your Mother?” Surprise was evident in her tone.

“I sure do Sam.” He smiled. “So, you just enjoy the smokin’ and swearin’. Ya do some drinkin’?

“I don’t exactly enjoy swearing.” She giggled. “I had some White Bordeaux at my cousin’s wedding I liked. I wouldn’t turn down other drinks to try if you offered, I suppose.”

“Good to know.” He took a last puff of his cigarette. Put the bud out on the staring wheel and flicked it out on to the road. “How about we stop to have one of those ice cream sodas you enjoy sharin’ with some burgers and fries. We should be going through that New York City by lunch time. They should have a good soda shop.”

“I would love that.” She squealed. “Finally, some real food.”

#au #willard russel #the devil all the time #willard and samantha #fanfic #fan fiction #fantasy #romance #love #slow burn #1050s #original story

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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A/N Here is Florence’s character profile and background into her childhood that we didn’t really get to see in the novel!

T/W Florence’s childhood deals with a lot of sensitive subjects such as drinking, emotional and physical child abuse, teenage pregnancy, as well as mentions of abortion and negative mental states, and it briefly mentions possible triggering things towards the LGBTQ+ community. Please remember this is all fiction (and has a happy ending!) but read at your own discretion x

Florence Margret DiCaprio was born in Los Angeles, California on April 23rd, 2000 at 11:40pm, four minutes after her twin brother Callum who was born at 11:36pm. Florence and Callum were the first children to wealthy and slightly older couple; Leonardo and Katherine DiCaprio.

Florence and Callum both had light blonde wavy hair and blue-green eyes. Florence’s nose turned up a little at the end and her smile was always soft and gentle compared to her twin brother’s wide grin that usually took up his whole face. They were so alike yet so unique. Florence was the more quiet of the two although they were both gentle in nature and preferred to observe rather than getting in on the action. Florence did have a wit about her, however, and could clap back against anyone with a snap of her fingers. Callum loved that side of his sister most.

Florence was named after her mother’s favourite city; Florence, Italy, where her parents honeymooned when they were first married. Her middle name was chosen after her maternal grandmother’s name. Katherine DiCaprio was a unique character in herself, always pushed by her husband to act how a wife should act – treating him with respect and honour – while at the same time never being able to raise her children herself. She gave birth, signed the birth certificates herself (both names solely chosen by the mother), and then the babies were passed on to the nannies and butlers they had in their house.

From the first week of their birth, the twins were already inseparable from each other and as they grew up, they leaned on each other a lot. With mostly absent parents, Florence and Callum often were set to entertain themselves and were simply served and generally cared for by the nannies. They never had one set nanny to be raised by – that would have been too easy – as Leonardo had a tendency of a bad temper and more often than not, fired them for ridiculous reasons within months.

His temper is what really forced Florence and Callum to grow up faster than other kids their age. By the age of four, they had witnessed their father slap their pregnant mother, saw him throw glasses against the wall in drunken rage, and had grabbed them by the wrists until they bruised. It was a harsh reality, but it was their reality and the young twins didn’t know any different. It wasn’t until the twins were seven years old that they really started to witness the horrors of their father’s beliefs and terribly strict ways of punishment. When Florence seven, she was caught skipping class to hang out with her friends in the school bathroom and when they got home at the end of the day, her father took off his belt and whipped her hand until she cried. She was ordered to her room without supper and spent the rest of the night locked away and nursing her stinging palm.

It only got worse from there, as Leonardo’s drinking worsened and his temper with it. Katherine hated seeing her children so upset and frightened of their father, but she would never been caught going against his orders herself. She was the pretty little wife who did as he said. The twins didn’t ever see this caring side of their mother, even when she tried; whispering gentle ‘I’m sorry’s as she held Florence’s hand down against the table or pulled off Callum’s shirt for another brutal punishment from their father. Oh well. It was more often than not that their parents were gone for business anyway…it was better when they were gone. Florence and Callum liked it better on their own with just their younger brother, Jude, and the house staff.

The DiCaprios moved a lot for their parents’ work, living mostly in LA but staying in London, Paris, and, of course, Florence, Italy the odd time as well. It wasn’t until the twins were starting their last year of high school that they moved to Toronto. Their house was in the richest neighbourhood of the city and was purchased spur-of-the-moment for $28million with a messy signature from their father’s hand. By then, the twins were seventeen and were perfectly accustomed to their class, way of life, and what was expected of them. They never spoke unless spoken to, their posture and sense of near regal style was pristine, and they didn’t dare do anything out of line. When you think of Florence in her youth, think of the epitome of a high-class young lady from the 1800s who had gone through Finishing School. Perfected for a classy and stuck up lifestyle.

The day they moved in, they were welcomed by two families who lived on either side of their property on the small cul-de-sac; both families with children and two fathers each, the Clifford’s being one of these two families. Florence and Callum learned quickly from their father than being gay was not allowed and they were since forbidden to have any sort of contact with them. Of course, going to the same school as the older children made this difficult and Callum soon confided in Florence that he might have caught feelings for the eldest Clifford son, Aidan. Florence and Callum knew how to keep secrets from their parents and it was easy since they were gone most of the time anyway so Florence swore to keep their relationship under wraps, especially from their younger brother who was basically their parents’ spy half the time. Their time living in Toronto really brought out the twins’ true personalities and they seemed to blossom as regular teenagers there.

Florence had never really been interested in looking for a relationship at all; her parents were going to choose her a wealthy husband by the time she was twenty and she would be his responsibility, so she needn’t worry. Well, that only went so far until she laid eyes on this boy in her history class come second semester of grade twelve. They were paired up for the first project of the term and she went over to his house one night after school to work on it and she fell hard. There was something about his tousled light brown hair or those grey eyes or his crooked smile that nearly made her knees weak. Matt. There was one catch…he and his friends bullied her twin brother and his boyfriend bad. But his sweettalk in private convinced her that he wasn’t really as awful as his friends made him seem and she ended up giving him her virginity one afternoon.

Things only got worse as his on-again-off-again girlfriend Hannah was always around and the fact that Callum couldn’t find out in fear of him getting hurt. Florence had fallen hard for Matt but he always ditched her for Hannah every time he could and she was always second choice. She never really thought about how he only came around to hookup with her rather than actually wanting to spend quality time together; she figured that was normal for teenage high school relationships. Florence was quite naïve in that sense. She figured it was harmless and by grad when they would go their separate ways she would stop being hurt but that all changed when she was sent running out of the history class to throw up one morning.

Two pink lines stared back up at her from the test in her hand. A positive pregnancy test thanks to some half aware jerk who barely gave her the time of day unless it was when she was ‘dtf’. She told Matt about the pregnancy who then blew up and ordered her to have an abortion before ultimately breaking her heart, stomping on the pieces, and left without a look back. He was too young and stupid to be bothered. Florence finally confided in her twin brother, the two of them having a super emotional conversation about what next steps they were gong to take. Step one? Do not tell mother and father. They weren’t sure how they were going to pull off hiding an entire pregnancy, birth, and child from their parents but that all kind of solved itself when Leonardo found out Callum was gay.

That night was…scary. Florence had never seen her father so angry, her mother so upset, and never seen her brother get beat that badly. It was a terrifying and emotionally draining night and the twins ended up at the Clifford’s and Michael and Luke helped clean up Callum and let them stay safely at their house away from their parents. By the time the twins moved back home, they were told they were going to be moving back to LA as soon as possible. Leonardo completely ignored Callum and anything to do with his sexuality, just pretending nothing happened. The one thankful thing that came out of it was that Florence was able to hide her pregnancy a bit better since no one was focussed on her. She knew that if her parents found out about the baby that she would be forced to get rid of it and that was never an option in Florence’s mind.

The Clifford’s loved the twins like their own kids and even when Callum and Aidan broke up before the DiCaprio’s moved back to LA, it was made clear that he was always welcome there. So after graduation, Callum and Florence boarded the private jet back to LA with their family. That very same night, Callum hugged his sister goodbye and helped her sneak back out of their LA mansion with a single suitcase and backpack and watched her grab a taxi to the airport.

Florence never saw her parents again. After learning how parents should act from Michael and Luke Clifford’s constant love and generosity and compassion, Florence never wanted to see her parents again.

They opened their doors for her and let her stay with them as long as she wanted, even bringing up the old crib and furniture from their basement in preparation for her baby. Florence felt more at home than ever with the Clifford’s and she felt she could never repay them for their constant generosity. They said finally having her around was like having a daughter after two sons and that was repayment enough.

Florence had spent so much time with Matt during their one year in Toronto that she had no friends, only tagging along with Aidan and his friends when she could but even that was few and far between since that was mostly guy time. She was seven months pregnant when she went with Aidan to a frat party during his first year of university that fall, and at that party, she met her first friend. A shy, slightly tipsy brunette boy who couldn’t keep his words in his mouth or the stars out of his bright blue eyes. The only person who didn’t glare at her distastefully when they found out she was young and pregnant. Daniel.

We all know how obvious Daniel made it that he was smitten with her from the second they said ‘hello’, from trying to kiss her and talking about wanting to marry her within two hours, but Florence was hesitant about getting involved with someone, especially while pregnant. There was no doubt that she found Daniel attractive and he was too sweet and caring for his own good, but after her first and only relationship left her pregnant, she wanted a bit of time to breathe. That didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends and they hit it off right away. Daniel would have moved mountains for her and after only knowing each other less than three months, they had already shared all of their secrets and slept over together and shared whispered platonic ‘I love you’s more often than what was probably normal for friends to do.

Florence felt much more sure about this baby and becoming a mother with the Clifford’s support and Daniel at her side. She was still in contact with Callum as often as she could – although their parents couldn’t find out they were still talking because otherwise there was no doubt Callum would be punished for speaking with his disappointment of a sister – and he even told his parents that his tuition was higher than it was so he could send extra money to Florence to help her get on her feet. Their parents were too busy with their own lives to check bank statements or Callum’s credit card history anyway.

Florence was preparing well for the birth of her daughter and had saved up enough from monthly cheques from Callum to buy an apartment for herself in the city. With Daniel by her side, she finally felt on top of things, better on her own without the ties of a possibly toxic relationship. That only lasted so long as she went into labour during the early hours of New Years Eve and gave birth without Daniel by her side as they had originally planned. They really shouldn’t have expected different since she was already overdue but, while Daniel was on the next plane out from visiting his family in Vancouver, Matt paid Florence a visit.

The poor eighteen-year-old new mother was exhausted and hormonal and emotional, and he came into her hospital room still half drunk from the NYE party and spoke a whole bunch of words to her that somehow formed an apology. He assured her he was going to make it right and that his life sucked without her in it and Florence didn’t need much convincing before letting him back into her life with a weak kiss.

She could see this change hurt Daniel when she broke the news to him but she figured it was just because all her stories about Matt had been full of the negatives; she was sure he was a changed man now. Besides, after nearly four months of being best friends, Daniel wouldn’t still have that silly little infatuation with her anymore, right?

See, Florence was in this tough spot where she felt like she didn’t deserve to be happy because her childhood was a money-disguised form of torture and her father told her often that she wouldn’t be happy unless she followed his orders. Maybe there was a hint of her father in Matt and that’s why she had such a hard time letting him go when he was back to his old ways. His drinking, never being around, and the constant lying that Florence forced herself to overlook. Daniel was too good for her and Florence told herself that often. She was grateful for him and she loved him but she didn’t even want to think about a future with him because that was not possible. Florence was really just waiting for the day that Daniel would drop her on the side of the street and walk away. The two best friends argued a bit about Matt every now and then and whether he was really worth all the heartache, but Florence tried to assure Daniel – and herself – that Matt was who she was destined to be with.

When Matt finally left for good, Florence crashed pretty hard and Daniel never left her side as he helped her pick up the pieces of her heart for almost the second time since he had known her. That night, between Florence’s emotional instability and Daniel’s gentle compassion towards her, she kissed him in a fit of desperation, her first kiss with a boy who wasn’t Matt (and Daniel’s first kiss ever). She couldn’t deny that she liked it and that she wanted to kiss him again but they were only best friends, so she forced herself to get her mind away from Daniel and onto moving on.

We all know what happened in Anything But Mine, how Florence found romantic comfort in Grayson and that thrilling passion in Emilio, projecting her own faults and emotional ‘traumas’ through her actions. The nineteen-year-old was desperate for experiences; experiences that normal teenagers have in high school, and she was desperate to feel something for someone. It was a bit of a rough year for Florence; learning how much it hurt her to break someone else’s heart, how truly unsatisfying meaningless nights of hookups with someone who wasn’t considered a boyfriend were (no matter how good they felt in the moment), and how goddamn lonely she always felt. When Daniel called off their friendship, Florence felt at her worst; she didn’t know what she had done to hurt him, and not speaking with him or confiding in him drove her crazy.

It was around the time that Daniel started dating Cayleigh that Florence felt a lot more. Between her newly discovered pregnancy and her suppressed feelings for her once-best-friend, she hated being anywhere near the new couple. She and Daniel had tried to repair their friendship but it wasn’t the same as it once was and Florence found herself shoving more and more space between them until they were hardly speaking again. She hated herself more in the beginning of that year than ever before, only really keeping it together for the sake of her toddler and her unborn baby. Her twin brother was still in LA, Grayson was distant with her because he was still heartbroken over how their relationship ended, Emilio was around but she just didn’t feel right about it all, and all she wanted was Daniel and how it used to be. It was a constant push and pull for a full eight months and Florence never felt rested once during that pregnancy, the stress ultimately sending her into early labour.

The birth of her second daughter virtually set the course of Florence’s life from then on. The startling fact that Daniel was the father after a drunken one night stand back in November caused their friendship to be forced to be rebuilt. Florence had missed Daniel terribly and it was a nice change to have him still around – although it was a bit awkward around his girlfriend who had yet to know he even had a kid. Cayleigh still made Florence feel…annoyed. Florence didn’t like being around Cayleigh at all and she wasn’t even sure why; she was a nice enough girl. Maybe it was for the fact that Florence was still looking for that perfect cookie cutter family she had yet to find and Cayleigh had a hold on her missing piece.

Until she broke his heart. Then it was Florence’s turn to console Daniel through his heartbreak. Hearing how he ended his entire relationship because he didn’t want to have let her go spoke volumes to Florence. The two were stubborn, however, and both went on for a few more months as friends, not wanting to risk their sensitive friendship over feelings. Florence loved when Daniel came over to her apartment to help with the girls…he was so good with them and always had been, and for those few months, she really started to see the future she once only dreamt about.

It was a January evening when Daniel came over last minute to get a fussy Clementine into bed. Florence had planned it all out as she waited for him to come into her room to say goodbye for the night, readying herself to finally admit to her feelings that she had bottled up for months into years. But Daniel came in, cuddled up in bed beside her, and beat her to it. He rushed it all out in a fit of tired desperation, how he was in love with her from the moment he laid eyes on her and his feelings never once faltered.

January 6, 2021 was the first night of the rest of their lives.

Daniel always brought out the best in Florence and from then on they were more inseparable than ever. By the end of that school year, Daniel moved into her apartment with her (he was spending most nights over there anyway) and they were really starting to be like a little family. Callum had moved to Toronto too by that point and the twins were thankful to finally be able to spend time together again. Florence had missed her brother a lot. But generally, it was all about Florence and Daniel, spending the year as boyfriend and girlfriend until he took her home to his family in Vancouver for Christmas break and proposed to her.

Daniel was the guiding star in Florence’s life from the moment they met; he made her a stronger person and a better version of herself. Florence couldn’t see herself with anyone for the rest of her life, even when things got hard they always pulled through together. She was determined to be a supportive wife and yet one that challenged him, a caring and loving mother to their three girls, and someone who lived her own life proudly but let people in to enjoy it with her. Sometimes she wished she could have started a career but she wouldn’t trade being a stay-at-home mom for anything because that way she never missed a second with her three daughters. Florence took all her heartache and struggles from her childhood, all the negative things from her parents, and turned it right around, swearing to never be even a quarter of the type of parent hers were.

For those of you interested in astrology, Florence is an Aries Sun, Capricorn Moon, and Sagittarius Rising.

She has always been a clean city girl even if Daniel tries to force her to go on hikes in the mountains of Vancouver (her slightly stuck-up posh side comes out when she’s in the outdoors and it makes Daniel laugh every time). Her favourite colour is blue, she is terribly afraid of butterflies and spiders, and she has a soft spot for a good chocolate cake.

Florence’s songs are:

Clementine by Halsey

You by Dodie

Face Claims:

Florence doesn’t have a face claim! She is up to interpretation although I am always willing to hear suggestions of who you picture her looking like!

#anything but mine #daniel seavey fanfic #daniel seavey imagines

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londonlanded · 6 years

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Week 30

Alright, playing catch-up, but it's been madness over here!

Monday through Wednesday, well, I've pretty much forgotten since I neglected to record my life and therefore lost those days to the abyss of my mind. Couldn't have been too exciting, right?

Thursday is when it gets exciting, since I finally got to have a real, full-on Four Seasons experience. As you all know, my hospitality knowledge extends only as long as these last few months. I have no schooling in the matter, no real travelling hotel knowledge since most of my time is spent hopping between hostels, trying to find out where I could pay the least amount of money for the most relative amount of peace and safety combined with the lowest number of drunk people. I've slept on floors, couches, in cars and on beaches (usually on purpose, though my friend's four door Kia wasn't ideal). Now, I work for a company that prides itself on making sure you sleep almost better abroad than you do at home, which is a tall order considering the confounds that usually tag along in your suitcase, like jetlag, stress, homesickness and all of our other human thieves of sleep. FS seems to do so well at making this happen that they've got a woman dedicated here in the UK to selling mattresses, pillows, duvets and bedding to anyone who feels like they want to take their hotel home.

But beyond the night's sleep that's reputed to be one of the best part of a Four Seasons stay, I've been working behind the scenes to make the other pieces of the puzzle fall into place, so seamlessly that I've realized most of our guests don't have the slightest clue how much goes into remembering something as simple as how they take their coffee. I thought I understood service, but this Four Seasons thing is a whole new ballgame. I was about to see what I was, in a very small part, responsible for helping make possible.

Let me explain the whys though, before we get into the whats. As part of your congratulatory package for passing your probation, you get permission to spend one night at the hotel as both a thank you and a way of the hotel testing out whether or not its functioning the way it should be. It's a way for the hotel to test its standards in a low-risk environment, since they're not about to give a member of the public free reign of their property for the sake of giving objective feedback. As part of your passing-probation overnight stay prize, you get to stay on property with a guest, you have to have one meal from room service, and one meal down in the hotel's restaurant. The only payment? I had to fill out a total of two surveys about how your experience was, how the departments did, if anything went wrong and if anything went right. That's it.

My friend Geffen showed up around the corner from the hotel, and she and I walked through the main doors of the place, and were welcomed to Four Seasons by a few of my slightly confused but ultimately professional colleagues/friends, who figured out I was doing my complimentary stay within a couple of seconds of realizing I wasn't in my uniform and I was entering through the front. I had warned Gef that people were going to pretend they didn't know me (aka greeting me with welcome to Four Seasons and later, when the hotel manager asked if we had been seen by the reception team), as part of the exercise everyone has to play their part. We approached the reception desk, the hotel manager looked at me with the same momentary confusion as the bellmen, and then asked the question I mentioned. Eliza couldn't keep her front up in its entirety, as she showed me the registration card for my room she said something along the lines of "well, I don't really think I need your ID but now's probably when I'd take it." I had been told what room I was getting earlier in the day, but of course hadn't seen it, so the concept of room 912 wasn't made real to me until my friend Alicia walked us to our room, and gave us a showaround.

Turns out this was the first of many above-and-beyond moments I'd have in my short stint as a Four Seasons guest. Alicia was oblivious to this fact, but the second Geffen and I walked into our room, it hit us both that'd we'd be getting to stay. For Alicia, it was just business as usual showing us around, but the two of us were absolutely losing our minds. Here's the thing - we would have been happy with any room, they're all beautiful and are all held to the same stunning standard. What we walked into was not just any room, it was room 912. What's so special about that is the fact that we were on the highest floor of the building, with a view of Hyde Park to greet us. This "be our guest experience" that I was doing for/thanks to HR is supposed to land you in the most basic type of room, small, low floor, double bed. Beautiful, but basic. What had happened that day to change that for us is still unclear to me, but I know that Alicia and my friend Tracy had something to do with it. I was so stunned at what we'd been given that I asked Alicia about it, and she said simply, "well, we upgraded you twice," with a smile on her facr that said she was rather proud of the change she'd instigated. She left to go back to the front desk, and the second that door closed, Geffen and I burst out laughing for lack of knowing what else to do with ourselves.

We explored the room and settled down, I think it was the biggest hotel room I've ever stayed in (with one exception but I feel like once in a lifetime Italian family trips can't count), and for central London, I'm not sure they've got much by way of space to give. The closet was so big, Geffen could comfortably sit in it.

There were USB charging ports in the walls, power sockets with built-in current converters, and the nicest shower I had ever seen. So nice, that I think I took 3 showers in the 14 hours I was on property?

We decompressed before heading downstairs to dinner, where my friend Chiara sat us at her favourite table, and recommended about half the menu to us. The waiter was a new face, but was well-versed in how to handle colleagues coming in for complimentary visits. Geffen and I wound up taking basically every recommendation we were given, and the staff that served us that evening, Chiara included, were more than happy to provide them. It was one of the most amazing meals I've ever had in London, and I'm not saying that because it's part of a company I work for. In fact, it's the only time I will ever get to dine in Amaranto since there's a rule in place for all Four Seasons employees that we can't go to any restaurant on property within 30 miles of where we work. So, that means I can go eat in Hampshire, but London's two bars and three restaurants are off limits otherwise.

Honestly though, if anyone who reads this is looking for a mind-blowing meal, head to Amaranto. It's Italian but it's not shy when it comes to seafood (my favourite thing on the planet), and thanks to my friends generosity in suggestion, we wound up getting some real mileage out of our meal. To start, burrata, roasted pecans, watercress. Chestnut mousse on seared scallops. Goat cheese, beets, walnuts and pear arranged in a crown.

Mains, seafood sampler consisting of a piece of bass, salmon, and tuna, a scallop, an entire mangosteen (baby lobster?), shrimp and roasted vegetables. Geffen's lobster linguine was apparently pretty spectacular, too.

Dessert, creativity came out on the part of our pastry chefs, Geffen's tiramisu involved a toffee disc placed atop whipped cream, covering coffee flavoured cookies, we shared something called the 6 Deadly Sins, which was one of those chocolate balls that the waiter pours molten chocolate over and melts the top to discover what's inside, alongside chocolate another four ways. Raspberry, coconut, and apple & cucumber gelato (weird but honestly my favourite) to finish it off.

We rolled up to our room after saying goodnight to the friends that had helped us out, and I took shower #2 because I swear that things is like an ocean being poured over your head and its magical.

Ready for something funny? The worst part of my stay was that I didn't sleep a wink! The bed was too soft, the pillow too plush. Of course, this is something that can be noted in guest preferences, but I sure as hell wasn't about to bother my friends for a firmer bed. In hindsight, I mostly just find it amusing that the one thing FS does best, just wasn't my cup of tea! I was half awake when my 6AM alarm went off to prompt me to go up one floor to the hotel's gym, and I can't say I minded starting my day to a workout looking over London, the London Eye clearly lit up in the dark pre-dawn.

I got back to the room just as Geffen was coming around, had my 3rd shower of my stay, and we sorted ourselves out to order the next mandatory part of my visit - room service. Within a few seconds of hearing my voice, Vinod on the other end of the line figured out that the Ms. Papsin he was speaking to was really just plain old PBX me. Before I knew it, four items had been added to our order that he suggested we "should really really have," and the whole 100% free thing made it sort of hard to argue with. I hung up with a laugh, and quickly popped up to the tenth floor with Geffen to show her our view from the spa. In the grand scheme of things, it's not really that mindblowing, but considering we're in the heart of london where being able to see anything at all above ground level is remarkable, having a 10-story look at the world isn't half bad.

We made it back down in time for Bala, our room service attendant, to roll our stunning breakfast into the room. Can't say I've had many Fridays start as well as this one did with our Room Service team's kind help. Geffen and I headed downstairs to go our separate ways to work (my commute lasted a whole 12 seconds mind you), but not before she raided the entirety of the room for every product we stock! Considering I have pretty easy access to it, I was mostly just glad it wasn't going in the bin and instead into my friend's bathroom. On top of that, Vinod had made us order a basket of extra pastries with our breakfast for the sole purpose of Geffen stealing them for a free meal later that day. I scored big, but dare I say she might have scored a bit bigger? Anyway, the rest of my day had a lot to live up to, I can't remember having experienced that much joy before 9AM in a long while.

I showed up to work to the mockery of my colleagues who had seen my dinner bill from that evening (they knew how it went though - once the staff catch on that it's free, they do enjoy joining in, especially when a good 3/4 of them are good friends of yours), I quickly evaded their pesky company to head downstairs to spend the morning with some of the members of the Sales team in the hopes that I'd learn some of the basics before starting my job as a sales coordinator in a few weeks. I felt a bit swamped, both by things I didn't know and by the things I thought I did, but I hope that once I start, everything will become a touch more clear. I'm sure it will, these things don't daunt me on that front at least. The end of the day meant a quick stop at the gym before returning to my own, firm, and welcoming bed. Even though my showerhead hardly works, I was happy at the very least that I'd be able to sleep once I laid down my head.

At the end of the day, I was still the same Emily who didn't need luxury so much as I need a safe place to rest my head. Still, I think I took away far more from my experience than most do, simply on account of my naivety. I honestly never understood how the things we do as individuals at the hotel become the cohesive, perfect, five-star whole that they are. I understand standards, they make sense to me, they are the thing upon which the framework of perfection is laid. I see that we aim for perfection in everything we do, I just had no idea how that might make me feel once I bore witness to seeing our work on display. Sebastian, my manager, caught me on my way down to sales, and while I didn't have a ton of time to tell him the extend of my experience, I managed to get out the simple phrase, "I get it, I get why we do the things we do."

And I do - I see the pieces at play. I see how they fall together, how every single person plays a role in making for something as simple as a safe place to land, a (usually) decent nights sleep, how the fact that we've thought of every possible human need might go unnoticed, simply because our needs were never felt. It's not that the hotel is always there when you need something, it's that it has made it so that you never feel as though you are in a position where you lack that very thing. I walked around the room and thought, "there's literally nothing I want right now," I couldn't think of a thing I could ask for. And I knew I could ask for anything.

I'm missing my own point here. I think what I'm trying to get at is simply this - I get why we do the things we do, because I see what goes into making sure that every want and need is met before it is wanted or needed. To be so far from home, and yet simultaneously so far from needing the comforts that are usually associated with it, that is what it means to stay at a Four Seasons. I didn't really understand that until I did so myself, and quite honestly, it made going back to work easier, not harder than I thought it would be. After all, I now see why we do things this way, and once something makes sense to me, I am all of a sudden unable to see how it ever didn't.

Saturday was another trip to the borough market, this time in the company of Viola from Florence, and Coline my regular French companion. Another story was shared with me, adding to the tapestry that's being woven by these characters, more complex and intricately threaded every day. Viola never did any post-secondary education, she's worked her way up from a 1-star hotel to one of the most renowned hotels in the world (ours, duh. Not kidding though, it's got quite a reputation our little building). She recently got offered a promotion on property, but turned it down in favour of returning to her home city to run something along the lines of revenue management. All this without a degree, all this without pausing to think she may not be adequate without one. She ploughs through life with a fervour and humour I hope to emulate, with a candour and wit I could never keep up with. I'm serious, these people are magic.

Sunday, said goodnight to the day with this lovely sight, reminding me once again how spectacular it is to just, well, be alive sometimes. The colours of the day bleeding away, there’s something simply and beautiful about having enjoyed another one. Even out front of Hammersmith station, bustling, loud, packed and constantly drowning in the din of a dozen sirens, there are moments to pause and think, yeah, I’m glad the sun reaches me here.

Spent the evening preparing for my last week in my Park Lane uniform, which is honestly something I never thought I'd say only seven months after first putting it on.

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