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#but yeah dan looks Mean As Fuck when he's not smiling and especially when he's angry - he unfortunately... looks a lot like his dad :(
wosoamazing · 1 month
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Too Late To Be Fair
Warnings: death (caused by drunk driver), mentions of emotional abuse (R as a child), mentions of drinking and drunks, implications of self doubt and associated things, wishing someone would die. Please let me know if anything else.
Note: Grace is a fake player, due to previous ideas and maybe future ideas I had to make a player up... she does some things none of the girls would ever do....
A/N: Story inspired by Pray (Jessie Murph) & Mansion (NF) - and other things but I listened to these songs and I was like ooo good story idea. There probs will be a part 2. I hope you like it - also I know I said one of the McFoord fics would be out next but um yeah...
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“Y/N We’re sorry to inform you but your Dad was in a car accident he was hit by a drunk driver” you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony, you dad the drunk being hit by a drunk driver. Everyone looked at you in disbelief.
“Y/N that’s not very appropriate,” Grace said, before others death stared her, clearly not knowing your situation, of course you were going to blow, especially at her, the thing you had wished for, for so long, finally happened, yet just after you cut him off, so it didn’t matter, it didn’t mean you could have an easier childhood, it was just another way of the universe punishing you. Waiting until you had moved out, cut your ties and in the spotlight, to finally kill him. Almost exactly a year since you cut him off, won the trial, got the restraining order, the one which he protested, causing the gruelling 3 day trial, to decide whether it was needed or not.
“Oh, sorry we don’t all have perfect little lives with perfect Mummies and Daddies, some of us actually had a shit childhood, faced real world problems, no rich bitch problems, oh Mummy and Daddy told me to pick up some rubbish, oh my life is shit they abuse me” you were dragged out of the locker room and into an empty physio room by Leah, Beth, Katie, Caitlin, and Steph who all sent you a glare when the door had shut, “Oh like she didn’t deserve it,” they all couldn’t but help let out a smile. There was an awkwardness in the room, as the girls all looked between each other not knowing how to approach this.
“You guys can all go, I’ve got this, thank you though,” Leah spoke, breaking the silence, everyone left except Beth, but Leah didn’t mind. You and Beth had a very close relationship, you had been close friends since your grassroots team, Beth helped you through the year of your life you realised you were gay, and then when you crushed on your now girlfriend, your then national Captain. Beth felt bad the year you told her about your Dad, she knew something was off but you never told anyone, barely anyone stills knows the full story, but that day Beth and you promised that you would be there for each other forever, and that was true, she had been there during your trial and so much more, and you were there for her when Dan broke up with her, Beth was really your rock and you were hers. Beth moved to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the room, giving you both space, whilst also being there in case you needed it. 
“Are you okay?” Leah couldn't find the right words, but she knew deep down the wrong words were what you needed her to say, you weren’t going to break, and release it all otherwise.
“Of course I’m not fucking okay Leah,” you looked up at her, she hadn’t even flinch at your words, instead she pulled you in for a hug. Which caused hot angry tears to fall from your eyes “Why now, why couldn’t it have been a year ago, 3 years, hell any time after I was 12. It’s unfair, its fucking unfair,” you paused, and Leah slowly slid her back down against the wall, bringing you down with her, your legs either side of hers as you sat in her lap. Your eyes connected with her soft kind caring blue eyes, and you could see how her lips formed a soft kind reassuring smile. You broke, big fat tears streamed down your face, as you sobbed, Leah gently pulled your body forward, so you were no longer sitting up, but leaning on her, she placed your head into the crock of her neck, before moving her arm to wrap around you lower body, her other hand was placed on your back, her thumb moving up and down, as she whispered reassuring words in your ear. 
“W-why now, when I’ve already lived the hard life, when I’ve been through all that shit. When I’m already screwed up, when I already have trust issues, when I already doubt myself everyday, so much so that I do it unconsciously” you sobbed into her neck.
“I know baby, it's not fair, and it's not right. But I’m here now, and I’ve got you.”
“I-I I used to wish he would die, I used to imagine cops showing up at the door when it was later than he used to come home, them telling me and me not being upset. I used to hope he just wouldn't come back from work trips. I used to imagine people asking me why I wasn’t upset when he died. I used to think of the fact that he was an alcoholic so he wouldn't get a kidney or liver transplant, unless it was a directed donation. I had to say yes, how could I say no if I was a match, but how could I say yes. You know how fucked up you feel when you think that stuff, you know how messed up I thought I was, but that was all his doing. It's just unfair.”
___
You had calmed back down and decided to go see all the girls again, the only problem was that no one had realised what song was playing in the locker room, too deep in conversation to be aware of it.
Waking up but wishing that you don’t. It’s something that I pray you’ll never know.
A song that connected with you so deeply sent you back over the edge, and you quickly spun on your feet and speed walked away, Beth followed behind you.
“What the actual fuck were you thinking McCabe” you girlfriend yelled.
“Wha?” the room had gone quiet and attention was drawn to the music, “Oh fuck, shit, sorry, we werent listening to it, its just automatically come on. I promise, I wasn't trying to be funny, I wouldn't do anything like that to Y/N”
Leah just turned around packing your bag and hers, “Tell Jonas we’re going home.”
“Sorry” Katie yelled as Leah went down the hall.
Leah found you sitting in the middle of one of the side hallways. Beth’s arms were wrapped around you and your body was shaking.
“Come on baby, let's go home.” She said as she placed a hand on your back, Beth slowly released her arms around you, which Leah quickly replaced with hers.
_____
“What’s on your mind? I know it's something more than your Dad” your girlfriend said as she sat down on the bed next to you, legs crossed and leaning back against the headboard. You had just arrived home.
“It's stupid.” you sighed, looking away from her eyes.
“I promise you, it's not stupid, it's your feelings, and your feelings are valid” she said, voice unwavering before pulling you into her lap.
“I don't know, I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” “What do you mean baby?” “I don't know, I just feel like something is going to happen, like something is going to happen and you’re going to realise that this was all a mistake and leave. You’re going to get sick of constantly being second guessed for no reason just because I’m messed up, because I don’t believe someone could actually love me this much. You’re going to get sick of me, and all my insecurities, ” she pulled your body into hers, your head finding a place in the crock of her neck, tears started to fall from your eyes, causing her neck to become wet.
“Y/N, baby, I love you so much, and I promise, there is not another shoe that will drop, we have been through so much together, we got through those 9 months together, we got through the trial together, and I promise we will get through whatever life throws at us together, forever, we will go through the highs and lows together. I love you so much, and I wouldn't want to spend my life with anyone else. I will never hurt you, I promise.” 
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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year
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What Friends are For.
Yandere!Best Friend x Innocent!Reader
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Warnings: AFAB reader (not the case with all my stuff.), yandere content, smut, dub-con, manipulation, corruption kink, overstepping boundaries, toxic friendship.
(An: My first smut, not exactly my best, it's been in the drafts a while 😑. If you enjoy, leave a comment or feel free to request something!)
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💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿
You sigh as you roll over to look at your best friend Carl, who seems more focused on his phone than the movie that blares from his TV. When he invited you to this sleepover, you didn't expect him to act so off. The whole evening he's been a little strange, constantly fidgeting and looking at you when he thinks you're distracted.
Suddenly, a knock sounds on the door of his room, and his older sister Sherri pokes her head in with a smile. "Hey guys, me and Dan are gonna go to a checkup for the baby and see a movie after, are you two good to stay here?" She asks. "Yeah, we'll be fine, we're not babies-" Carl mumbles as he shifts from his spot on the bed, dropping his phone onto his lap. Sherri rolls her eyes, and exclaims that she was just trying to say goodbye. "I'll see you later, Sherri!" You smile sweetly as she nods in response and bids you farewell. You hear the downstairs door slam as her and Dan leave, saying something about calling the babies doctor.
"It's really cool Sherri's having a baby, Don't ya think?" You ask, turning over to Carl. He shrugs, clearly not too enthused about the whole ordeal. "I guess, she's kind of a pain in the ass with all the, uh-" He thinks "Hormones n' shit." You let out a small laugh. He grins in response and leans back against the window frame just above his bed. "But, at least now that she's pregnant I don't have to hear them fucking upstairs everynight." He shudders as he recalls the many sleepless nights of him clutching a pillow over his ears in an attempt to drown the explicit noises. You fake a gag in response. He then groans, flopping over and burying his face in the pillow. "Having to hear that shit isn't exactly great for trying to get off, fuck I'm backed up." You look up, your brows creased in confusion. "Um, 'Backed up'?" You repeat, confused. "Y'know, like, I haven't gotten any in a while?" He says, sighing when your confusion doesn't lessen at his crude explanation. "I haven't fucked lately. That's what I mean." Your eyes go wide and you look down at this. "Oh, I'm sorry?" You respond, unsure how to approach that situation. You're not familiar with anything of that nature, especially not when it comes to guys anatomy.
"Nah, you ain't gotta apologize. It's not like you can help." He says coyly, glancing at you while trying to suppress a grin. He watches as you sit with a serious expression, deep in thought. "Well, maybe I could help..." You eventually mutter, only making his grin grow wider. He knows he's got you now. "I mean, I'm not gonna say no." He pats the bed beside him, and you nervously stand to sit beside him. "I don't really have any, um, experience with this stuff." You admit, and he only nods understandingly. "It's okay, I happen to be an expert with this stuff, just do what I say, alright?" He asks. You nod. "C'mere." He pats his outstretched legs and leans up against his headboard. You slowly climb up onto his legs, trying not to be clumsy. One of his hands immediately moves to your hip, while the other cups one of your breasts through your shirt. "What are you doing?" You ask, feeling his hands explore parts of you. "Well, I can't just get it up right off the bat, I gotta get ready." He explains.
"Fuck, you look good, but-" He pauses, making you look at him with concern. "I don't know if it's gonna be enough." He sighs. He knows he's lying, just getting to touch your over your clothes gives him enough jerk-off material to last him for the next year, but you don't know that. You're so eager to help, and god, he knows you'd look even better naked, letting him touch and use whatever he wants on you. "What should I do?" You ask, not wanting to disappoint him. "Take off your shirt." He winces at how over-eager he seems, and tries to correct. "Uh, it would help, I mean." You nod, unsure. As you unbutton the front of your shirt, you feel a pit form in your stomach, making you feel a bit nauseous. You try to shake it off as just nerves, and soon your shirt is dropped off the side of Carl's bed. You sit still, looking down as Carl ogles your chest. "Look at this," He coos, touching the simply lacey bra holding your breasts. "Y'know, if I didn't know better, I would think you wore this for me." He snaps the bra strap, startling you. He laughs at the squeak of surprise you let out, before his hand slips to the back of your bra. You shiver a little as he unhooks the bra and lets it hang loosley from your shoulders. He pulls it down, now completely exposing your breasts to him.
He squeezes your left breast, trying to gauge your reaction. You tremble a little, the feeling of his hands on you is not completely terrible. "Yeah, feels kinda good, huh?" He whispers, and you can only manage a small nod. "Try doing this yourself, just rub them with your hands, try to be gentle at first if it feels bad." He says. Your hands shake slightly as you place them over your breasts, nervously beginning to rub the tender pink buds as Carl watches with a predatory gaze in his eyes. It feels odd and sensitive at first, but after a few moments small tingles shoot from your chest, making your breathing slow. "Yeah, there you go..." He eggs you on. Despite his massive hard on pressing against his pants, he fights the need to get off in favor of playing around with you a bit more. "Keep going for me, okay? I'm gonna try something real quick." He says.
Carl's hand lands on your thigh, slowly slipping under your skirt and grinning when they part slightly out of instinct. You continue to rub your chest trying to continue the good feeling and ignore the growing bad feeling that remains in your stomach. Carl looks up, watching your face as he cups the front of your panties. "Uh-" You gasp a little, feeling pressure on that very sensitive spot between your thighs. "Keep playing with your tits baby, I'm just explorin' down here." He coos, turning his attention back to his hand. He strokes over your panties, prodding gently at your clit. "Oh, C-carl?" You ask, the shock of pleasure emitting from the simple touch makes you jolt. "Yeah?" He asks. "What are you doing, down there?" You ask. "Nothing, just gonna make you feel real good. Why don't you help me out, strip these off for me, m'kay?" He asks, feigning sweetness. You nod softly, slipping the garments off your thighs. His finger begins rubbing your clit gently, the strange feeling practically making you buckle and fall down onto him. "Hey, it's cool, c'mon... you can lay on me." He encourages, his free hand pushing your weak frame down against him. As he continues rubbing, you feel a knot forming in the stomach, different from the nausea you felt earlier. You let out a few noises, too overwhelmed to be ashamed by the lewd sounds slipping from your lips.
"Mm- Carl, feels funny-" You choke out. "Come on, baby, I need more than that, can't just feel 'funny' when you're this wet for me." He chuckles. "Feels good, F-feels so good." As the feeling in your stomach builds, you feel overwhelmed and a bit frightened, but your instincts tell you to chase the feeling, You begin to jolt your hips against Carl's hand, only making his brows raise with his smile. "Woah, takin' the lead huh? You might be more sensitive than me, huh?" You don't respond, continuing to buck against his hand. "Oh god, something's happening, I'm-" You cut yourself off with a moan. "Gonna cum for me, fuck, I'll make you cum. Say how good I make you feel, c'mon." He pants, his cocky attitude fading to pure lust. When you don't respond, too wrapped up in pleasure, he pulls his finger back. You practically scream at the sudden lack of stimulation, feeling that high fading fast. "Carl, please-" You whine. "Say how good I make you feel." His tone is less friendly, and it makes you shiver, though you're too desperate to resist. "You make me feel so good, so good. Please, m-make me feel good again." You whine. He begins to rub again, but not nearly enough to get back that high. "Faster, please." You moan. He grins at how helpless and worked up you are, the feeling of knowing he's in control is almost enough to make him cum with you. "Say who's doing this to you, m'kay? Fuck, I want the whole neighborhood hearing you whore yourself out to me, c'mon." You whine again, but fulfill the request. "You, Carl. Y-your the one touching me, making me feel so good, A-ah..." A few more sudden strokes and you feel yourself coming undone, your pussy convulsing around nothing as you spout unintelligible phrases. The feeling is so overpowering that you collapse naked onto Carl's chest. Panting heavily, you glance up. He's got a boyish smile, and he moves to stroke one of the hairs from out of your face. "So good for me, huh? Such a good friend." As he says this, you remember the reason you did this in the first place. "But, I didn't help you, y'know..." You trail off, suddenly shy after all that happened. He shrugs, and says "You did plenty, besides, we'll have time for me later." He says, You blush at the suggestion. "You mean you want to do something like this again?" You ask. He nods.
"C'mon, you're my best friend, and after seeing you like that, all needy and desperate, I'm not gonna end it here." He suddenly moves so he's now over you, with you pinned against his headboard. "It's gonna feel so good baby, you right here, under me. Fuck, your pussys gonna feel so fuckin' tight, letting me ram n' and out." He pants. Your face pales at the notion. This was supposed to be a one time thing, and you had planned on losing your virginity much later in life, to whomever you married.
"C-carl, I did this because you wanted help, I can't, I mean, I'm not ready to-" You pause. "Go all the way." His smile fades a little. "Why? You don't gotta be scared, I'll be gentle. I'm your best friend, remember?" He tries to keep himself calm, and not scare you off with his frustration. "But, surely there's other people who would do stuff with you." You say, trying to make some distance between you and Carl. "Course' there is. I'm a fuckin' smokeshow." He scoffs. "But I don't want to do it with anyone but you, got it? And you're not gonna do it with anyone but me." His voice is low now, and there is a glimmer in his eye you don't recognize. You shiver as you ask "W-why not?" He rolls his eyes. "Because, you offered to help me. You're not gonna hurt a friend, and break our promise, right? I still need your help." He coos, making you look away in guilt. "I guess..." You mumble, tensing when you feel a pair of lips on your neck. "That's my baby." He presses his weight gently against you.
"This is why you're my best friend."
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wysteria-bloom · 5 months
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honkai star rail x f!reader - random prompts
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characters : caelus, welt, sampo, gepard, dan heng
warnings : none! :) sfw
a/n : im obsessed with this game and its characters!! Huohuo and sampo have my whole heart ❤️❤️ requests are 100% open for hsr, so feel free to suggest whatever ideas you have and i will write them! Be mindful that I am currently moving onto the second story chapter so i wont know stuff about jing yuan or blade!! I'm definitely doing one with the girl characters after this one-
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Prompt : ̗̀➛Caelus touching [name]'s face and telling her that her face is really soft.
When talking with Caelus, you typically notice the far-off look he gets in his eyes. It’s as though his mind is in a distant land and yet his physical form is present here, with you.
It was an endearing trait of his, but also irritating. Especially when you’re trying to explain something extremely important to him.
He was definitely an odd one…
I mean, the first time you had met him he was head-first in a trash can searching for… something.
But… his strange quirks are what drew you to him. The times where he seemed emotionless were actually the times where he was the most gentle… and the times where he is the most aggressive he comes across as seemingly unhinged.
You were definitely down bad for this strange raccoon guy whom had a literal nuke within him.
Yeah, if your parents were still around they definitely wouldn’t be proud of your choices.
Sighing at the distant look in his eyes, you clicked your fingers in front of his face, frowning when he didn’t even blink,” Oi- Caelus!” You called out, frown deepening further when he didn’t respond,” Yahoo~? Astral Express to Caelus??”
He didn’t budge.
Biting your lip in frustration you went to pinch his cheeks but you were found frozen in shock when Caelus had, in fact, beaten you to it. His fingers were rough from how much he’s been swinging that destructive bat around but they had a comforting warmth surrounding them, and when mixed with the blush on your cheeks you felt as though your face could be considered a heat hazard at this point.
He pinched at your cheeks with a concentrated expression, fingers rubbing your skin gently like he was testing the feeling of it, deciding whether he liked it or not.
It was weird.
He was weird.
But fuck, was it adorable to you.
A hum slipped through his lips and he stopped pinching your cheeks, seemingly deciding on something as he just sort of cupped your face gently in his hands instead.
You blinked up at him in embarrassment and utter confusion,”… You gonna explain what’s going on in that strange head of yours orr…?”
A small smile curled onto his lips as his amber eyes swirled with affection and warmth,” Your skin is very soft… I like it.” He complimented bluntly, his thumbs caressing your cheeks to further emphasise his point.
You were silent for a long moment before furrowing your brows,” I-I… thank you??”
“No problem.”
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Prompt : ̗̀➛Welt using [Name]'s lap as a pillow.
It had been a long day seemingly, and Welt felt as though he just wanted to collapse into a black hole.
Maybe even one of his own.
March was a lovely girl but her social personality was tiring… and she clashes too much with Dan Heng. It was like babysitting rowdy siblings.
When he had made it into the Astral Express with an exhausted cloud hanging over him, you noticed it almost immediately. You could pick it out from a crowd of people.
When he saw you his tired gaze seem to soften a little, an ounce of tenderness within them,”… We are never having kids.”
You let out a laugh as he made his way over to you, his head hanging ever so slightly,” Guessing the youngsters were a little too much for you?” You cooed out gently, watching his stiff movements with pity,” oh, dear… surely they weren’t that bad?”
“No, no… they were that bad.” He corrected as he sat down next to her huffing slightly,” I feel drained.”
“Hmm… thats the joy of children.” You teased lightly, gazing softly into his honey-coloured eyes as you pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose for him,” Do you want to sleep in my room for a while?”
“…” He watched her, studying your expression and feeling his admiration and love for you slowly consuming him.
Perhaps his exhaustive state was affecting his ability to think logically.
Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to beleive -
But when he found himself moving to lay his head in your lap, he felt as though nothing else in the world mattered to him except for how you make him feel.
You blinked in surprise for a moment at his actions, your hands frozen in the air before you slowly began to card your fingers through his hair. Smiling down at him in amusement you raised a brow,” Is my lap comfortable, love?”
“Well… I’m not uncomfortable.” He answered ambiguously, closing his weary eyes.
I chuckled lightly at that response, continuing to scratch at his scalp gently with my comforting fingers. He hummed in approval,” That’s nice…”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm…”
I sighed a little,” You can’t fall asleep on my lap, Welt.”
“ I disagree… I think this is a perfectly optimal place for me to rest.”
“My legs will die.”
“… a small price to pay.”
Sighing once more, a weak smile curled onto your lips as you took his glasses off for him, setting them to the side,” Alright, alright… Sweet dreams, love.”
There was a small curve to his lips at these words as he began to drift off.
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Prompt : ̗̀➛Sampo teaching [Name] how to kiss
“Oh~? Well if it isn’t one of my dearest friends! [name], what brings you to the underground, huh?” Sampo cooed out with his usual easy-going smile on his lips, the sight of you filling his heart with genuine joy.
You blink up at him blankly before humming,” I came to speak with you, actually.” You answered honestly, arms crossing over his chest.
His placed a hand where his heart would be, a fake-shocked look on his face,” Moi?? Why, what a wonderful surprise!” He leaned down a little so he was looking eye-to-eye with you,” My heart swoons at the fact you think about me, doll! How endearing of you~”
You click your tongue, eyes narrowing up at him,” Don’t get too cocky, moron. I came down to make a purchase, not to see you personally.”
He ignored the disappointment he felt as he deflated slightly,” Ehhh? A purchase?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow,” I’m afraid I don;t have many valuable relics in stock at the moment—“
“I want to buy… a-advice.”
“Ehhhhh??” He was even more confused,” I understand I’m a veteran in this business and everything, but you don’t need to buy advice from me, doll. I can just give it to ya.”
You frowned a little at his response and just decided to rip the bandage off, eyebrows furrowing in determination,” Sampo… I want advice on how to kiss somebody.” You stated bluntly and full of purpose.
His eyebrows raised at that answer…’ Who is she prepping to kiss, I wonder?… lucky guy/girl.’ His heart felt like it was breaking.
“Huh? Why do you need to learn a skill like that?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,” You planning on fooling around with someone, [name]? How scandalous—“
“No.” You interrupted instantly, bitting your lip to keep yourself from spilling information.
“What makes you think I would be good at kissing?”
“…. Do I really have to answe that?…”
“Yes, please.”
“No… you’d have to pay me if you want to hear that kind of praise from me.”
“Hmmm… I dunno…”
Her eyebrows furrowed,”… I will pay you handsomely if you teach me.”
He bursts into laughter as he pet her head affectionately before stopping himself,” There’s no need to pay me, doll, really!” Then he gave her a cocky smirk,” A chance to kiss you is payment enough~!”
You waved your hand dismissively,” Yeah, yeah, whatever you want… now teach me.” You seemed fairly eager.
Sampo is utterly amused at this, he shakes his head and gives an amused sigh. “Oh, this should be fun.” He says, his smirk turns into a smile. “Okay, come here. Let me show you.” He says and he pulls you close.
He puts his hand behind your head and he kisses you gently. Not too soft, and not too aggressive. You lean into the kiss almost immediately, shutting your eyes as you basked in the feeling of his lips against yours.
Sampo pulls away after a few moments and he’s blushing hard, his eyes locked on yours. “See? How’s that for a lesson?” He asks, his breath a little heavy but he smirks like he’s already planning something to do to you next. He was completely mesmerised by you.
“Hmm… I think I need another demonstration, I didn’t quite understand…” You mumbled, eyelashed fluttering up at him innocently.
Surprised and very eager at this response, he raised a brow and smirks. “You’re asking for more?” He asks. He shakes his head. “Okay then, have it your way..” he says and he pulls you in again. He kisses you a bit harder this time, his arm coming around you.
“Mphm!…” you were surprised by how much more aggressive this kiss was but you were able to adapt to it instantly, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you as you took complete control over the kiss.
Sampo is caught off guard by this, his eyes widening in surprise but he keeps kissing you, matching your intensity. One of his hands grabs your waist, the other hand running through your hair. He’s enjoying every second of this. “Mmm…” he says, between kisses.
Then, you pulled away, breathing heavily as you stared up at him with a hazy look in your eyes,” How was that?…”
Sampo’s chest is heaving, his heart is racing. He looks down at you, a big grin on his face. “I think that was perfect,” he says and his breath is shaky. “You’re a natural..” he adds with a smile, his eyes glowing,” In fact… I think you could teach me a few things… how about another try?”
“Sound good.”
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Prompt : ̗̀➛[Name] catches a cold so Gepard makes sure all her needs are met like an overbearing mother.
A groan left your lips as you stared up at your ceiling hazily, your nose felt entirely blocked and your face was burning hot.
You were definitely sick. From what? You do not know.
But what you are aware of us how much of an overbearing boyfriend Gepard can be when you're sick like this.
You watched in amusement as he ran around your shared bedroom like a headless chicken, fixing the pillows beneath your head for about the hundredth time that day.
"Gepard... The damn pillows are fine, leave 'em alone." You mumbled, your voice was hoarse and scratchy. You just didn't sound well at all.
Gepard pauses in the middle of fluffing up your pillows to peer down at you for a moment," do you have to be so cranky whenever you get sick?" He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, but in spite of that, he was still fussing over you, pulling the throw blanket over you and turning the humidifier to full blast.
"I'm only cranky when you start acting like my mom. I've already got one, I don't need two." You watched as he opened the window to let fresh air into the room, and you would be lying if you said it didn't feel nice to have cool breeze hitting your face.
Your response makes his cheeks puff out in kick annoyance, letting out a dramatic sigh," so your mother is the only one who is allowed to care for you?" He settles himself into the comfy rocking chair next to your bed as he looked over you with a tender smile on his lips," I bet you're not even aware of how cute you look while you're sick." He observes.
You huffed, letting out your millionth sniffle that day," yeah, yeah... Only you would find me cute with snot running from my nose." You teased, still finding his compliments charming however.
He smirks and makes a clicking noise at you in response," I think your snotty nose and feverish flush brings out your eyes." There's that charm of his again before his smirk settled into a warm smile," how do you feel, anyway?" There was worry lacing his words.
He reminded you of a cute dog... His caring loyal attitude never ceases to make you fall in love with him even more.
Smiling up at him, you raise a brow," I feel like shit," you stated bluntly before your eyes softened," but you're making the experience more bearable."
Gepard chuckles and strokes through your hair, ruffled up in a way that was adorable to his eyes." I'm sorry you feel so awful." He murmurs," are you hungry?" He asks.
"no... I'm good for now," you looked down at the swathes of blankets covering you and opened them up, patting the spot next to you encouragingly," I think taking a nap with my wonderful boyfriend would instantly cure my fever." You grinned up at him innocently.
Gepard blushed, your expression and the invitation being far too inviting for him to resist," Of course..." He murmurs as he slowly, but carefully climbs up on the bed before nestling against you until he's under the covers.
His arms are wrapped around your body and he's pressed all the way up against you, like your very own heated pillow," is that all better for now?"
Instantly leaning into him warm and comforting touch, you nodded with a peaceful smile on your lips as you buried your face into his chest,” for sure…” you hummed out, already feeling yourself getting sleepy. Your arms wrap around his waist comfortably as you sigh in his smell of cinnamon,” Thank you… for taking care of me.”
Gepard holds back a groan of pleasure as you tuck yourself so close against him, your warm body just that much more appealing with your feverish flush. The moment your head rests against his chest, his arms instantly tighten around you, and he's holding himself perfectly still. He's not letting you go.
He kisses behind your ear, the tender gesture causing him to blush. "It's nothing," He hums, nuzzling into your neck. "It's my duty."
“I suppose it is,” you giggled out, leaning into the tender kisses he was giving you,” You’re like a knight in shining armour…” you hummed sleepily.
His fingers are gently stroking through your hair, the caress almost enough to lull you to sleep. The tender kisses he's pressing into your neck help, but not nearly as much as the loving expression on his face, one that's a picture of pure content. He nuzzles into you, as if to mark you as his, but mostly because he doesn't want anything separating the two of you.
"And you are my damsel," He whispers.
“Your princess,”you reiterated, blinking up at him tiredly.
"My princess." He echoes.
Gepard's arms are as warm and as comforting as they are tight around you. Your head is pressed right against his chest, his voice just an ear-hugging whisper in your ear.
"My precious and beloved princess." He purrs gently.
You slowly drifted off to sleep at his words, his warm and soft voice lulling you to sleep like the lullaby of a siren.
or maybe it was the fever that made you so sleepy.
Gepard holds you against him, nuzzling into your shoulder as he's content to watch over your peaceful sleep.
His fingers trace circles into your hair, and the warmth of his body, especially as the blankets he's pulling up to you trap the heat, are just perfect for helping you recover comfortably.
All this fuss over a simple cold. He'll make sure you're treated like royalty.
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Prompt : ̗̀➛Dan Heng doesn't like talking on the phone, but [Name] always calls him instead of texting. [Name] admits that it's because she wants to hear Dan Heng's voice.
Den Heng let out a sigh the second his phone started ringing, he almost immediately knew who it was.
Nobody else called him. Not even March!
Why did you have to be different?
Dan Heng answered his phone with a sigh,"Yes, [name]? What is it?"
There was silence before your light voice graced his ears," Hey there~! Long time no talk, buddy." God, he could hear the shit eating grin in your voice.
That stupid grin.
That stupidly charming grin.
"... I hate you, you know that?" Dan Heng murmured and shook his head with frustration as he rubbed his eyes,"What is it you need now? Money? Food? What have you done this time? Are you in trouble again?" He hissed quietly.
"You don't hate me! Den Heng, where are your manners?" You gasped out, acting as though you were offended by his words when you were only growing more amused.
This is usually how your interactions went. You being irritating and him being irritable. Himeko and Welt can't count how many times you both have had your little spouts.
You were like a married couple, honestly. Disgustingly cute.
"And I don't need any of those things! I'm on the straight and narrow," But then you paused then there was a chuckle," For now."
A small smile spread on Dan Heng's face as he heard your laughter. Thank god he wasn't talking to you in person he'd look like an idiot.
"... you're certainly not on the straight and narrow if you're telling me 'for now'..." He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, "So what is it you need, then, if it's not money, food, or my help when you've definitely gotten yourself into trouble again?" He asked.
"Welllll..." you dragged your words out, almost as though you were delaying something. But then there was a click of your tongue and-," I just like hearing your voice. Is that so bad?"
You said this so casually. Like it wasn't meant to make Dan Heng have a heart attack.
Dan Heng hesitated and coughed awkwardly as he was taken aback by the sudden shift in what he thought to be a light exchange between him and you. He put his phone close to his ear, his eyes wide with surprise.
“... I-I don’t know what to say.” He said honestly but then he deadpanned,“I was about to tell you that you’re a brat to tease, but I had no idea this was going in this direction.”
"I'm not a brat, am I?" You chuckled out, there was a somberness to your tone," I dunno, you're just easy to talk to."
He heard your clothing shuffle, you must have shrugged.
"But I can tell I'm annoying you, so if you want I can just start messaging from now o-"
Dan Heng was quick to interrupt.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Dan Heng said quickly, waving his hand in front of him as if he could see you through the phone.
“You call me whenever you want to talk. It’s just— your timing—” He ran his hand through his hair again,“I thought this was going to be another prank call.”
He heard silence and then your breathy chuckle," You're so cute when you're flustered, Dan Heng." You hummed out teasingly.
Dan Heng’s face turned a bright shade of red and his cheeks warmed in a way only you had ever managed to achieve for him.
He couldn’t find the words to respond and sat there for a moment until he let out a quiet sigh.
“I wish you weren’t so… so… so…” He said, looking around his room as if to search for a synonym. He sighed again and gave up.
“I take it back... you're annoying.”
"Cute."
He heard the creaking of a chair," I'd like to take you out to dinner." You admitted rather bluntly, though there was a gentle tone to your voice.
"If you'd let me," you then added on as an after-thought.
Dan Heng’s face turned a deeper shade of red and his jaw dropped from sheer surprise.
“…W-what?” He asked you, and for someone who wasn’t known for stuttering, he was doing a whole lot of it.
Once or twice you'd joked to him about it, but in all honesty, there were so many times he wanted to ask you out but never did.
“I-… I would love to go to dinner with you." I said. But then realisation struck him and he cleared his throat," But..." He trailed off.
"Buuuut?...." You repeated, sounding a little nervous.
He frowned at himself for making you anxious,“There’s always ‘buts’ with me, it’s never just a clean cut ‘yes’.”
He looked up at the ceiling and let his head drop back down, growing more emotionally exhausted by the second, “In my defense, ‘you’ and ‘me dating’ are things that have never went together in the same sentence in my head.”
"Dan Heng! So mean." You whined out but you began laughing afterwards," You sure about that, though?" There was a teasing lilt to your voice," I see you and I together a lot.
“Well—” Dan Heng paused briefly and cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed cutely. Was he really about to confess this to you? Over the phone at that as well.
“…I have actually imagined a few times…”
He looked up at the ceiling again, his expression turning slightly red and he shut his eyes tightly, cringing at his own words.
“…it’s nothing I can say I ever thought would happen for real. But here we are…”
"Ah, I see..." you sounded almost touched,"... Well, how do you feel?" You asked, genuinely wanting him to express himself.
“How do I feel—?” The question caught Dan Heng off guard. As if he had a lot of thoughts going through his head at once.
“I-I feel—”
He was silent, trying to find the words. He couldn’t find the right words.
“I’ll be honest,” He said quietly, staring at nothing as he held his phone to his ear, “I feel a little scared.”
"Yeah?" She breathed out.
"Yeah," He repeated in the same tone,"...If you and I actually… you know… went on a date..." Dan Heng cleared his throat again, and again, trying to find the words," And you started to know more about me… who I truly am... will you still look at me the way you do now?"
He paused.
"Will you still like me? Or will you end up being disappointed?" He finally spoke in a whisper.
"I... I don't think I could ever be disappointed," you admitted genuinely, a gentle smile to your voice," I know you're closed off for your own reasons... but that makes me more drawn to you."
You sounded so enamoured. Affectionate. He's never heard you speak like this before.
"I want to shoulder your burdens alongside you," you stated simply," No matter what those burdens are. I need to make the weight holding you down lighter... that's my genuine feelings."
“…” In all his years of knowing you, he never thought he’d hear those words in your lifetimes.
The silence grew before Dan Heng spoke again, his voice still a soft whisper but now one of resolve and strength.
“...Okay then.” A small smile twitched onto his lips," Message me the details when you have it figured out."
"Nah, I'll just call you." You confirmed with a clear sound of giddiness within your voice.
Den Heng finally let a soft breathy laugh fall from his lips, his resolve evidently broken,"... I know you will."
392 notes · View notes
gokartkid · 9 months
Text
fuck it danyuki <3
Daniel has big hands. 
That’s one of the first things Yuki notices about him, big hands always gesturing, fluttering like birds in the air while he talks. Everyone always unconsciously clusters around him to listen, ducking their heads and smiling and laughing.
It seems effortless, the way he commands their attention. 
Yuki’s been getting better at talking, at saying the right things at the right times to make people laugh. Especially without Pierre now, the flashes of blue and pink in the corner of his vision but never beside him. He’s short with Nyck— tries not to feel bad about it. It’s not his fault. It just isn’t anything like what he had with Pierre.
He sees Daniel much more nowadays. 
They — the team — like pairing them together, iPhones and cameras raised as they chat and try to be funny and try to say the right things.
Daniel’s good at listening to him, and Yuki tries not to bend under the weight of his attention, blabbers until he’s not sure if he’s even saying anything that makes sense, except Daniel is nodding and smiling and asking questions in all the right places so he must be doing something correctly.
Daniel gives out his physical attention so easily, always touching and patting and hitting, big hands on Yuki’s shoulders, skirting down his back. The attention feels good, and warm against his skin.
They cluster together, the five of them: Max and Checo, Daniel, Yuki, and Nyck standing off to the side a bit. Checo is looking at something else, and Max has ducked his head down to hear something Nyck is saying.
There’s chatter, and bursts of laughter in the background. Miami is so loud; the smell of the ocean and sunbaked concrete, people in skimpy shorts and long stretches of tanned skin, smiling white teeth and strong American accents. 
Yuki finds it easier, and more difficult, the American-ness. They pronounce their words so particularly, and he doesn’t know whether it’s better than the clipped accented Italian voices he’s so used to. 
“Hey,” Daniel says, interrupting his train of thought, “you’ve been looking good man.”
He’s smiling— wide mouth and glowing skin, confident tilt to his shoulders.
“Uh—“ Yuki stutters, brain chugging back to life, “uh, thanks, yeah, you too. Your uh—“ he can’t think of the name of it, “fashion? The Met Gala. That looked cool.”
Daniel laughs, tilting his head back to reveal the long smooth lines of his neck, thick and muscular.
“Yeah, thanks. It was super fun. Didn’t wear anything too extreme but it was, y’know,” he wiggles his eyebrows and Yuki laughs. Daniel continues, “but yeah I mean, you’ve been working out like crazy right? With Michael. It’s cool, that you guys are getting along.”
“Yeah,” Yuki beams, and this is a comfortable topic now, “yeah we are getting along super well, and he’s so cool. I met his family, you know—“
“I heard,” Daniel says, “that’s awesome. They’re really nice, right?”
“Yes,” Yuki nods, quick and enthusiastic, “yes so nice!”
“It looks like the work’s been paying off,” Daniel steps back and looks Yuki up and down. He stands up straighter, suddenly aware of his body under the slow hot drag of Daniel’s gaze. Daniel reaches out and squeezes at his bicep, the warm heavy weight of his palm, long fingers curving around the soft curve of his muscles. He makes an appraising noise, and Yuki feels his mouth dry, licks his lips. 
“I’m very strong now,” he doesn’t know what to say, wants to fill the suddenly electric air, “his schedules are so intense.”
“Mm,” Daniel nods, closing his eyes to remember, “yeah and his bootcamps. Oh man,” he shudders dramatically, “I mean, great, but he’s really got you working down to the minute, right?”
“Yes,” Yuki rolls his shoulders, even talking about it making him remember the slow deep aching muscles after a hard day, “but it’s nice, when he does the massage.”
He mimics the motion of Michael’s hands, fists spreading into flat palms, imitations of pushing at planes of muscle in the air. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” Daniel says, grinning, “that definitely is the best part. Cause it means it’s all over, too.”
“Yes,” Yuki nods, “yes exactly.”
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69bitterbeingz · 4 months
Text
IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 7
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DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, piss [non sexual], prescription drugs, alcohol mention
ao3 version
The warm morning sun started to filter through your slightly agape curtains, fanning over the bed where you lay; held to your ear was your landline phone, fighting through the tired haze in your head to focus on the conversation.
“ What’s the problem? From what I hear, you all get along very well.” Unlike you, Ville’s voice was fresh as a daisy - damn 10 hour time difference. Exhausted, you wiped your face as if trying to wipe away your eyebags. 
“Yea, no we get on, that’s not…” You sighed, rolling over on the bed so you could rest your chin on the pillow. “It’s all just weird you know? It’s all happened quite fast…”
“ I think you’re used to being lonely.”
“Wow, just say it why don’t you?”
Ville chuckled. “ You told me yourself, the only friends you had before LA came with you. Just go with it, you’ll get used to it.” It felt a little dismissive, but ultimately, he had a point. You just needed to throw yourself into it, embrace being with people. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?
…You seemed to be saying that a lot lately. 
“Yeah… you’re right. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for me to be so reluctant, I’ve had more fun in the last month than in… ever .”
“ Just remember that. Besides, you’ve already gotten your plane ticket, right?”
You glanced at the envelope on the bedside table, sucking the air through your teeth. “Ah. Yeah.”
“ Then you don’t have a choice. ”
“They’re gonna destroy my parent’s place, Ville.”
He laughed over the phone, broken by the crackles of the line, and you snickered into the pillow. This was going to be a fucking mess.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Mila was leaning against your doorway again, watching you shove clothes into a suitcase; he does that, likes to observe and make smartass comments. He clicked his tongue, immediately putting you in a bad mood.
“Your flight’s when again?”
“Shut it.”
“2 hours, right?”
“Why the fuck did you ask if you know?”
“And you’re getting picked up in 10 minutes, right? Have I got that?”
Your head snapped to the side and you summoned the most venomous glare you could. He smiled, you scowled. “I’m gonna tell Dan to muzzle you.”
“Wow. Ok. What a concept.” Why did he say it like that? You don’t want a glimpse into their personal life . The blonde decided to wander into the room and leaned over your shoulder, and you had half a mind to elbow him in the ribs. “You do remember why we moved out to LA, right?” That was an odd question, especially when you needed to be out the house in very little time . Nonetheless, it was easier to follow his train of thought.
“Yeah for the band, work on music, make connections.” You summarised it mindlessly, throwing in your toiletries and smacking the suitcase shut. Mila hummed.
“Couldn’t help but notice you’re not doing much band shit . Hanging out with idiots, partying, trips to England.”
You cut off his whining as you threateningly held your hairbrush up to his face, startling him enough to jolt him backwards.
“Don’t start shit with me, you and Dan fucked off to Sicily for a week. I’m making connections! Hell, I’ve already met some big bands through Bam - the Bloodhound Gang.”
Mila looked downright offended. “ You met Bloodhound Gang and you didn’t tell me? ”
“Yeah, Jared says get fucked. Besides, being on the show is free publicity, if anything I’m doing more around here than you. When was the last time you plugged in a guitar, eh?” He didn’t respond, resigning himself to irate silence. With that, you jumped on the suitcase so it would be closed enough to zip up. “Now do me a favour and go bother someone–”
Ding dong!
“ Shitting hell.”
With the power of God and pure panic on your side, the suitcase zipped with little resistance, and you were down the stairs. Before you could rush out the door, Dan grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a quick hug.
“ Good luck .” He muttered, and lord knew you’d need it. You threw open the door to Johnny Knoxville, trademark shades hiding his deep brown eyes.
“You’re late.”
“Then what are you standing around for? C’mon.” 
Thankfully, it wasn’t Chris’ Toyota, but instead a very flash Cadillac Eldorado. For a moment, you totally forgot the hurry you were in, in favour of whistling at the car like a catcaller. What could you say? It was a pretty sexy car.
“How come I’ve never seen this before?”
“You think I’ll let those animals around my car? I was lucky enough to have it in the shop when Bam decided to throw that party.” 
You slid into the front passenger seat, revelling in the black leather interior. As much as you love your old ‘67 Dodge Charger, this was truly gorgeous. Johnny clearly took very good care of it. Your nerves calmed as you were finally on the road, though after hearing about Johnny’s penchant for falling asleep at the wheel [thanks Steve-O <3], you were a little wary of who was driving. No need to bring it up though, he was doing you a solid. Speaking of which–
“Thanks for driving me to the airport, wasn’t fair to take the car from my guys while we’re away.”
“Don’t sweat it, I was headin’ your way anyhow.”
“I could’ve called a cab.” You pointed out, running your finger over the polished frame of the open car window, but Johnny waved you off.
“Nah, no point, I’m happy to take ya.”
If he was happy to drive you then you were happy to ride. You automatically reached for the 8-track player like it was your car, but when he noticed you hesitate, he gave you the go ahead. The button was so damn satisfying to press, the second track of Ramones’ Rocket to Russia following the click. 
“I know she’s pretty but you don’t have to be that precious.” Johnny commented, flashing you a grin. “You’re allowed to press a button if you wanna.”
“I should get you to drive me more often.” You replied, and he chuckled.
“Oh good, I’ve always dreamed of being a chauffeur.”
The ride passed quicker than expected, between the good music and pleasant conversation. It was a lot less chaotic in a confined space with just one of the boys, but you guessed that was because there was no manic energy for him to feed off of. Once you pulled into LAX car park and a uniformed worker took the beautiful wonderful Eldorado to car storage, it was a bit of a blur. A mad dash - briefly interrupted when Johnny got held back by airport security for the mousetrap in his back pocket - all the way to the plane’s gate, surprisingly in time. You felt uneasy when you didn’t spot Chris and Steve-O immediately, and to be honest, even when they did show up you didn’t feel any better. There was something… off about them, Chris especially. He seemed to be dazed, looking around the airport like he’d never seen anything like it. You tugged the bottom of Johnny’s shirt, leaning over without taking your eyes off of Chris.
“Is it just me or is he out of it…?”
“Probably taken the pill already.”
“The–” Your head snapped to the side. “The pill? Hang on, he got pills through security?”
Johnny giggled and shook his head, “No, he gets sleeping pills from a doctor to get him through flights.”
That made much more sense, but it raised another question.
“Is it such a good idea to give Chris sleeping pills?”
He grinned with the whites of his teeth. “No.”
Chris stumbled forward and practically fell on you - not hugging you or anything, just kinda… leaning his weight on you. You gave Steve-O an awkward look but he snickered, content to let Chris do as he pleased. You cleared your throat.
“Hey Chris.”
It took him a second, but his arms came up to hang onto your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Heyyy. ” The dopey giggle that followed was adorable, but you were relieved that he didn’t fight when Steve grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him into an upright position. 
“Where’s Jeff?” Johnny asked as the four of you headed towards the gate. Steve-O shrugged. 
“Think he went ahead of us, we had some, uh… business in the bathroom.
You weren’t gonna pry, you were going to focus on getting through this flight in one piece instead, because the longer you watched Chris try to operate , the less hope you had. He managed to get through the passport check with little more than an odd look from the attendant, but from the way he kept bumping into the wall, you doubted he’d make it on his own. He clumsily turned towards you when you took his wrist and placed his arm over your shoulders.
“I’ll be real Chris, you’re walking like you’re brain damaged.” You said dryly, but he just grinned and leaned his entire weight on you, nearly knocking you to the ground. The walkway to the plane was short so you didn’t have to support him for too long, though as you lead him through the entrance, you heard the stewardess say to Johnny: “ Has he taken drugs?” . Apparently, Chris heard too, as he whipped around to look at her, taking you with him.
“ No no, I don’t need a drink.”
That wasn’t what she asked at all. Before he could say anything else, you pushed him down the aisle. You thanked whatever god was above that all of you were seated at the very back of the plane, but you despaired at having to sit with Steve-O and Chris. As Steve-O happily settled into his seat and Chris stood in in the aisle, swaying slightly, you leaned over to the row in front where Johnny was getting comfy next to Jeff.
“There’s no way in hell you guys assigned me babysitter.” 
“But you’re so good at it!” Johnny laughed gleefully, while Jeff just shrugged.
“Sorry, that was MTV’s decision. At least you didn’t pay for it.”
“Jesus christ.” This was gonna be a fucking mess, you already knew, especially when Jeff leaned up to look over your shoulder and made a face.
“Where did Chris go?”
“What?”
You spun on your heel - he was nowhere to be found. He was there literally a second ago, how the hell did he move so fast on sleeping pills? Johnny leaned up to peer over the seats, his eyebrows raising once he spotted him.
“I think he’s by the bathroom? Wow, he usually doesn’t make it, proud of him.”
“ The fuck do you mean ‘doesn’t make it’? ” 
Suddenly, the sound of somebody jamming the service button was heard throughout the cabin, and you assumed it had something to do with Chris. You charged down the aisle towards him, but slowed as you saw the dark, wet spot on the carpet beneath his feet. He seemed to be completely unaware of his bodily malfunction, casually chatting to a random couple while the woman spammed that button like her life depended on it. Immediately, you took hold of his shoulders and steered him into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Chris tittered to himself as you turned on the tap.
“[Y/n]… y’wanna try the mile high club?” He asked, head barely supported by his neck. You blinked at him.
“You’re covered in piss.”
“Wow… didn’ know you’re into that…”
“For the love of god just give me your shorts.”
He complied without question, and you threw them into the filled sink. It wouldn’t clean them properly, but dammit it was the best you could do. While they soaked, you bundled up half the toilet roll in your hand and set to work cleaning up his legs. It was fucking grim, but if you had to sit next to him for the next 10 fucking hours you were making damn sure he didn’t smell like piss. At least he wasn’t making it difficult for you, humming to himself as he let you clean and redress him. Finally leaving the bathroom again, you noticed the pile of newspapers where the wet patch was, and the disgusted looks from the poor couple Chris had picked out. You didn’t waste anymore time getting him back to the seats. You ushered him into the middle seat, Steve-O taking note of Chris’ freshly ringed out shorts.
“Why are they wet?”
“I cleaned him up.” 
"Cleaned up what?"
You gave him a weary expression that seemed to get the message across. You took your seat next to Chris, and he took it upon himself to cuddle up to your side, curling up like a drowsy cat. It would be so much cuter if it weren’t for what just happened. As if to prolong the second hand embarrassment, a stewardess approached your row, a concerned expression as she pointed to Chris. “Excuse me, has he… taken anything?”
Before you could answer, Steve-O did it for you.
“ Yeah, and so did I! But we took it before we got on the plane so it’s totally legal.”
“ Prescribed!” You interjected, shoving Steve-O back into his seat. “Prescribed sleeping pills, got him from a doctor, swear to god.”
She scrunched up her nose, a crease between her eyebrows, but she didn’t follow up. You shot Steve-O a glare once she left. “What the fuck was that?”
“What? She asked .”
The plane hadn’t even taken off yet, how had so much already happened? At least the pills seemed to be overpowering Chris, clinging to you with droopy eyelids. He was murmuring something incomprehensible, no chance in hell of you deciphering it, but he seemed happy. Everything was normal until the plane took off. You were distracted by talking to Johnny through the crack in the seats, when you heard something unzip. You curiously turned to look at Steve-O, then immediately looked away from anything below the belt. You eyed the digicam he had in his other hand, aimed at the window. The sound that followed was one you really wished you didn’t hear.
“ Steve. ” You hissed, and he looked at you expectantly. “ What the fuck are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, but he grinned mischievously, tilting the small cup of waste product towards Chris. Your face went white.
“Johnny switch seats with me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Johnny I will literally give you anything you want oh my god please– !”
But it was too late, the cup was thrown, Chris was drenched, unfortunately you were surprised by none of this. What the fuck is it with these guys and pee...? You quickly came to the conclusion that there was only one way you were getting through this.
“Do you have any more of those pills…?”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
You woke up 10 hours later, the groggiest you had ever felt in your life, but you knew damn well it was worth it. From the looks of it, most of the passengers had already gotten off the plane, leaving your rag tag group including a now conscious Chris Pontius. He was chatting idly with the others when he noticed you stir, giving you a smile. “Oh hey, you’re finally up.” 
You sleepily blinked, system rebooting as your liver processed the last of the sleeping pill you took. Your thoughts were all muddy and slurred together, and you couldn’t remember much of what happened before you knocked out, but there was one thing very clear in your head.
“Chris. You were just… covered in piss.”
Steve-O was cackling like a hyena, and Chris quickly went from confused to sheepish; you could tell this wasn’t the first time.
“C’mon man, you took advantage of my drug-addled mind.” He complained, but Steve casually shoved his shoulder.
“I was on ‘em too, you knew the risk.”
Every flight attendant gave you guys the stink eye as you left, and though you didn’t blame them, you didn’t have it in you to give much of a shit.
“I’m never flying with you guys again.” You mumbled, some of the fatigue not yet gone. Affectionately, Johnny pulled you into his side and squeezed your shoulder.
“Good thing you got the flight back with us, huh?”
“Awesome. Can’t wait.”
There was already a car waiting for you guys, rented on MTV’s behalf. Since you were the one who knew the address, you were assigned the designated driver - probably not the best idea after taking sleeping pills but you were pretty sure it was all gone by the time you were behind the wheel. Besides, it’s not like you crashed in a blazing glory. Sure enough, 20 minutes out from the outskirts of London, there stood a large house on the left of a country road, surrounded by trees and fields. Whatever neighbours there may be were far from here. It was visibly aged, the paint on the outside cracked away, and the windows shadowed with dust. You pulled into the dirt drive and emerged from the driver door.
“It’s kinda spooky out here.” Johnny said, standing with his hands on his hips, craning his neck to look up at the house blocking out the twilight sky. You shrugged, rounding the car to pull your suitcase out of the boot. 
“I bet it's nice on the inside.”
“How’d your parents afford this place?” Jeff asked as he followed the rest out of the car. 
“I think inheritance… some distant Uncle owned it then passed it on in the will. That’s the story, at least.”
“This place is definitely haunted.” Chris’ reaction made you giggle; you twirled the keys on your fingers as you went up to the old wooden door, chipped and ancient. The key stuck in the lock, but with a hefty twist, it creaked open, revealing a dark hallway. Ok, you saw where Chris was coming from. Gazing into the unlit depth, you expected a pair of eyes to appear or a hand to reach out towards you. 
“I think I saw a demon.” Steve-O chuckled.
“Dude don’t, I think I did too...” Chris replied, as you fished around in the dark for the light switch. Luckily, the lights still worked after… who knows how long. The interior looked normal - outdated for sure, you’d never seen a house straight out of the 70’s like this, but other than that it was just a house. It was odd, you’d never actually stepped foot in this house before… if you remembered correctly, your folks lived here for just a few years before they had you, then they moved to the city. 
“Here it is, I guess... welcome to England.”
It took a while for everyone to pick their rooms, as they were far too busy exploring the creaky home and making fun of the tacky décor. There were some oddities; Chris wasn’t fond of the taxidermied animals in the hallway, especially when Steve-O dropped the fox on him from the second floor mezzanine. There were odd trinkets on every counter, collecting dust from the decades of absence, alongside old tvs that would probably give you cancer. However, the star of the show was definitely the small games room at the back of the house, heralding a pool table, a darts board, and more taxidermied animals but this time mounted on the walls - you know, for variety. 
Eventually, fucking around got boring and everyone remembered what they were here for, so it was back in the car to London in search of some decent footage and a decent bar. You found yourselves in Soho, where Johnny had the bright idea of acting as goalie in somebody’s doorway and letting strangers kick a football at him. Admittedly, you didn’t have much faith in the outcome, but the passers-by had a great time, one even managing to hit him square in the head. It knocked him off kilter, but god knows he’s had worse. You all had a go as well, some as goalie and some as shooter. When you went up against Johnny, you managed to get him right in the balls, something you insisted was a total accident, but the boys praised it nonetheless. Johnny didn’t even let you apologise for it, simply asking if you managed to get it on tape - clearly he had his priorities in order.
It wasn’t long before an officer told you all to fuck off, but it was fun while it lasted; and with a stunt already under your belts, you all figured you deserved a drink after the long journey, so off to the Soho bars you went to christen your week of overseas shooting, the rented car long forgotten.
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the-fiction-witch · 1 year
Text
Soon I Promise
Tumblr media
Media IRL
Character Thomas Brodie Sangster
Couple Thomas X Reader
Rating Flirty
Concept Sugar baby’s toy boy
I sat at my vanity fixing my face to look as beautiful as possible watching the clock as closely as possible. When I was done with my face I got up and grabbed my tiny little satin dress leaving little to the imagination, and as soon as I slipped on my dagger heels to match I saw the Bentley pull into the driveway. So I scampered out of my suite and down the hall standing at the top of the stairs giving my dress an adjustment as the door clicked open so I stood looking as good as possible. And in stepped my husband in his black suit he smirked at he saw me
"Hello gorgeous"
"Hello darling," 
"You've been good?"
"Always" I smiled coming down the stairs he gave me a slight glare so I moved to press a kiss to his cheek 
"I did get the bill in for the gold card?"
"I was just treating myself to some new dresses" 
"Ask next time, alright pet?"
"I will"
"Good. Right I'm off out to the club I'm taking the BMW, don't wait up" 
"I won't you have fun" I smiled he happily took the keys and headed back out the moment I heard his car go I let out a breath relaxing thrilled my two minutes a day of having to look presentable was over grabbing my phone from the table as I wandered into the living room sitting in the chair by the fire looking out across the windows and pool typing the numbers in and letting it ring but it quickly picked up
"Awww hi y/n" hi sweet voice cooed 
"Hi Thomas" I smiled
"What is the nature of your call? Not that I don't like to hear from you"
"Lonely" I pouted
"Why don't you go snuggle with your husband"
"He's gross. And boring. Especially compared to you"
"How sweet"
"And he's not here"
"Isn't he?"
"Nope. Club with the boys he'll be gone all night"
"I can take a hint. I'll be over in ten minutes" 
"Pick up dinner on the way, pretty please?"
"Alright, usual?'
"Yeah"
"Alright see you in a bit" he smiled before hanging up the phone 
So I smiled and set the the tv up waiting rather impatiently until I heard the sound of the three motorbike revs at the gate so I unlocked it and opened it letting him pull inside and park up as I got up and went to the door as he pushed it open his helmet in his hand leather jacket over his blue button down and jeans his bag over his shoulder and he stopped short seeing me 
"Whoa-"
"Hi"
"Hi… holy fuck."
"What?" I giggled
"Look at you! You look fucking beautiful" 
"Awww you mean it"
"Of course I do." He Cooes setting his helmet down and wrapping his arms around my waist to give me a soft cuddle "how the fuck does he walk out of this house everyday with you looking like that" 
"Why wouldn't he?"
"Because you look incredible, I couldn't walk out of this place if I had to leave you looking like this." He says
"You're too sweet to me"
"Well someone has to be" he smiled pulling me into a kiss I happily kissed him back even if he tightened his grip clearly over excited till he pulled back
"Come on, I'm hungry" I told him tugging him down to the kitchen as usual where we set up for the two of us two cook the dinner he brought for us to make together often kissing and cuddling as we cooked 
"Where is Dan anyway?"
"Club"
"Ohh, so off with his rich buddies having eighteen year olds grind on him" 
"Pretty much"
"Not to be rude-"
"But?"
"But. Why did you marry him?"
"I didn't mean to"
"... Hu?"
"I just wanted a sugar daddy and that was going pretty well until he asked me to marry him, It was over text I didn't think he was serious so I said sure next thing I knew I had a plane ticket to my own wedding in Hawaii and a diamond the size of a babybelle on my finger" 
"You didn't have to go through with it"
"I know, I could have said no I could have gotten out of it but it's nice not having to work, or think about money. Just wish it wasn't quite so boring."
"The money really worth you being this unhappy?"
"Thomas. This dress was five thousand pounds"
".... Fuck"
"I have access to every card, every account, and every car I want. It's nice to no have to worry over things"
"Point taken. I mean I guess he's still your sugar daddy"
"He is. I just talk to him less" 
"I mean… he's also kinda my sugar daddy I guess?"
"Kinda he did buy you your last for suits, and our trip to Iceland last Christmas" 
"How are you explaining that away anyway?"
"He checks how much and what shop, not what it was."
"And he pays for our dinner every other day"
"He does?"
"Yeah I pay for our food on the black card you have me that's his isn't it?" 
"Yeah that's Dan's," I smiled nuzzling with his chest 
"You know… if you got a no fault divorce you'd probably sneak away with a comfortable amount of money"
"Yeah? Then what?"
"Then, you and I could get married?" 
"Very funny Tommy"
"I mean it"
"When he dies. I have a life insurance" 
"You… you are an evil little thing aren't you?"
"I am"
"Why not divorce him take all his money and then kill him for his life insurance"
"Because that's way more suspicious" 
"Good point" he nods "I assume you have a plan then?"
"Yep, he's going to Aspen with his friends in November, one will be bringing his assistant. We have an agreement that she wants her boss dead. I want Dan dead. She's going to flood them with alcohol, dress them in ski gear and shove them under a frozen lake to down. Then scampered out of the country on a pre planned trip to New Zealand where she will be changing her name and cashing the check I send her once this is all over"
".... Alright then. Then we can get married?'
"After a suitable five months of grieving and the checks have all cleared then yes"
"Fine. If I have to wait that long can't we atleast plan a nice little trip? Just the two of us?" 
"Soon I promise" 
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occult-roommates · 1 year
Photo
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Sul sul to Sulani
After a 10 hours flight, the roommates finally made it to Sulani, though on top of that they had to wait an extra two hours for Dawud’s flight to show up, since he was still in his Arizonan hometown. Like, would have been a bit of a waste of time for him to fly back to San Myshuno just to be with his friends, and then fly to Sulani. Now, the group was rushing themselves to go to their vacation house, as the Sulani sun is not exactly vampire friendly, the heat was killing Rudi, and Daniele just wanted to finally be at the destination.
Daniele: Dude, I missed you so much! Dawud: I’ve been gone for five days. Daniele: It was too much for me. Rudi: Ok you two calm down...By the way, Dawud, count yourself lucky you weren’t in the plane with us. I was sitting next to Daniele and he spent the entire flight watching episodes of Aircrash Investigation and then giggling when I said it’s making me uncomfortable. Daniele: What, it was actually very interesting ok, I learnt a lot of stuff! Like, did you know the deadliest plane crash in history happened in the Canary Islands of all place? I didn’t know that. And it even happened on my mom’s 10th birthday. Rudi: My dad died in a plane crash you asshole! Daniele: Well you should have said it, bruh I can’t read your mind! Dawud: Even then, that’s still a bit rude to do Dan... Kino: You think that’s bad? I got my period during the flight! Like great, the trip has barely started yet and it’s already ruined... Dawud: Your...You have that??? Kino: Well, if we ignore the part Sixamians only have one sex, we reproduce pretty much like Earthlings, so keeping that in mind it’s pretty obvious I would. Daniele: Duh. Dawud: Ok, sorry for not ever thinking about alien menstruations I guess??? Akva: At least that means you’re not pregnant. Fuck, how will my friend react uh? I should have tell her in advance fuuuuuck... Charlie: Will you please hurry up I’m gonna burn alive if you don’t move right now!
The reason for this trip was because Akva got invited by her best friend from high school, June, to come visit her, and she’ll be the one hosting them during their vacations. The two hadn’t seen each other in forever, as June moved to Sulani as soon as she graduated. The reason for that is she moved there to study environmental science and then do work as a oceanic wildlife conservationist. To her, saving the ocean is a major issues, especially for Sulani, which is deeply affected by climate change by virtue of being a tiny island country in Polynesia, located around 50 miles south of Hawaii.
June: AKVAMAREEN!!
As soon as the young woman saw her friend, she rushed down the stairs and jumped on her to hug her. However, Akva quickly pushed her away, because...you know.
Akva: Please be careful... June: Why...OH! Uh...Are you...Wait...No way?? Akva: Yeah..................That’s why I’m dressed in these awful leggings that look straight out of a Facebook MLM, none of my clothes fit anymore and I got desperate. June: When you said you had a big new for me and were bringing new people I thought you had gotten a girlfriend. Girl, what the fuck! Akva: By the way, I see you’re still super short. June: Miss Singh, don’t try to switch the topic on me...Also who even is the dad?? Akva: Remember last winter when I dated Jay for like two months before realizing I’m a lesbian... June: REALLY? DOES HE EVEN KNOW?? HE’S ALSO IN SULANI RIGHT NOW AND HE DIDN’T TOLD ME???
Akva did some sort of middle point between cringing and smiling, then shook her head. Then, the realization Jay was also on the island right now horrified her...Well, seems like she won’t be able to keep the secret for long. All of this noise outside attracted the attention of the actual owner of the house, a world famous professional surfer...Though to June, she’ll forever be her beloved older sister.
June: So, anyway, hello Akvamareen’s friends. My name is June Crosdale, I’m 20 years old and I love sea turtles. And this is my big sister Antoinette Crosdale, she is 25 years old, she loves surfing and also cheesy rom-com. Dawud: June and ANTOINETTE??? Is it just me or do the vibe of these two names doesn’t fit? It would be like if I had a brother named Jean-Claude. June: And we also have an older sister named Eduarda. Toni: Well, Antoinette is my birth name, but pretty much everyone calls me simply Toni. It’s just June who’s weirdly insistant on always calling people by their full name. Rudi: I don’t think I ever told y’all but my full name is Rudder.
As this whole name thing was going on, Kino stood there, in awe of Toni. Her dyed blue hair, her smooth dark skin, Kino could only think one thing...
Oh my Llama, she’s gorgeous!
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because-edmund · 2 years
Note
Daphne Ask #?
Is there any family that Daphne would introduce Hassan to (whether intentionally or because of circumstance)?
Hehe story below 💕 @the-redheaded-league
I’m only ten years younger than her dad… Hassan thinks, waiting outside the strange house. Is that a little messed up? I don’t think so… Her father suddenly opens the door, and they’re finally let in to Daphnes family home.
He shakes the man’s hand after setting his suitcase on the floor, “It’s great to finally meet you!”
“It’s nice meeting you too, two years, huh? Sure she hasn’t driven you mad yet?” He laughs, Daphne glares at him before running to the restroom.
“Ah, yeah. She could never do that!” Hassan laughs. “She’s really quite amazing, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me sir! I’m only a little bit older than you after all!” Her father, Dan, laughs again.
“Yeah it’s cause of her daddy issues,” her younger sister, Lydia, yells from the table.
“Or maybe this dude is just a cradle robber,” her older one laughs.
Hassan chuckles a bit, tries to brush off the comments. When Daphne walks back from the restroom, he pulls her in to his side, not letting her go. “Are you ok?” She whispers.
“Yeah, shortcake.” He smiles back, gritting his teeth.
She gives him a weak smile back.
They were on a road trip, he had a training seminar to go to, and he tried his damndest to make it romantic, but when their hotel lost their reservations, the only option was to sleep at Daphnes dads house or the car.
Hassan settles them in what would’ve been Daphnes old room, had it not been entirely changed into a room for her dads step-grandchildren. Two twin beds, they couldn’t even sleep next to each other.
“Guess I don’t get my cuddles tonight, huh shortcake?” Hassan laughs.
“I’m sorry, it’s going to be a long night,” she rubs her temples, already feeling a headache.
“You got this, babe,” he sits next to her on her bed, hugging her tightly.
It goes pretty smoothly, all things considered. They make their comments, about his age, about her weight, about the fact she never visits. They both grin and bear it.
“Why her?” Lydia asks, in the middle of dinner.
“Excuse me?” Hassan replies, honestly taken a bit aback.
“It’s like, I know Erin lives on that island, she’s a bit prettier right?”
Hassan can’t find the words to answer this question, and before he can try to open his mouth, Gabby, the oldest says:
“Even Bev is.”
The two start laughing, Daphne rolling her eyes, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself.
“I think your sister blows everyone, here or there, out the water.” Hassan says, picking at the food on his plate.
Her dad snorts, “Sure pal, wait until she has a meltdown. Girl is so sensitive. Can never even take a joke, I mean look at how she’s acting right now.”
Daphne, tired of it, gets up and starts to clean up their plates, not saying anything.
“Oh look, she’s being nice and actually cleaning for once,” Gabby laughs.
“Yeah, bud. You might have to hire a maid. This girl never cleans, lazy as all hell,” he sad sips on his whiskey. “You sure you don’t want any?”
“He’s muslim,” Daphne snaps, the first thing she’s said all night. “He doesn’t drink. And you shouldn’t either, you’re getting a bit rude.” She storms off the the kitchen, plates in hand.
“The fuck did you just say?” Her dad yells after her, and the second he gets out of his chair, Hassan is already grabbing him by the sleeve, forcing him to stay down.
“Don’t,” is all Hassan says, voice hard.
“Don’t what?” Her father slurs. “Teach her a lesson? How dare she talk to me like that, I’m your father show some respect!” He practically spits at Daphne, who’s frozen in place by the kitchen door.
Hassan glares at the man, “All of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Especially you.” In a swift and quick movement, he’s got the man pinned to the wall. “I think it’s best we all head to bed. Be out in the morning, and nothing has to get worse than it already is. Got it?” He looks around the room, seeing the two girls nod. “Good.” He lets the man go, before grabbing the dishes out of daphnes hands, sets them on the table and then holds her close to his chest all the way to the bedroom.
She’s crying the second the door closes, “I’m sorry,” she sobs into his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you mad…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, shortcake.” Hassan holds her tight. “I see you why you can’t fucking stand them.
“They’ve gotten a lot better,” she laughs.
He pulls her out from his chest, stares into her eyes while he wipes her tears with his thumbs. “I love you, sweet girl.” He kisses her softly, just as she says it back.
He stays awake the whole night, and truly understands how Daphne learned to run.
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catboydan · 3 months
Note
tell me what the video Basically, I’m Gay means to you?
I think it’d be easier to list all the things it doesn’t mean to me than the things it does lmao
but fr, BIG was the video that got me here in the first place. I remember seeing it and all the hype—I knew who dnp were at the time, but all I’d be able to tell you at the time was it was a pretty big deal he was coming out. BIG is so well-written, well-presented, it drew me in right away. I clicked for the fact that a lot of people were talking about it; I came out of it wanting more.
So I got more. So I started with Dan’s vids, especially stuff similar to BIG like Trying to Live My Truth, and was pretty much hooked right away. Didn’t take long to end up on Phil’s channel too, +dnpg. Consumed it all like mad.
So I logged into my old unused tumblr for the first time in maybe 6 or 7 years and started following. That action alone has done me so so much good.
When BIG came out I was 20. I was knee-deep in the “trying to figure out who I am” shit. More specifically, I was trying desperately to ditch the younger version of myself, the fucking redditor since I was like 10, surrounded by misogyny, who “wasn’t like other girls” (even if I’d never say it aloud). I was trying to allow myself to be a woman in a world that despises and mocks anything woman-centric. I was coming out of a lifelong depression for the first time after a decade of almost total apathy, and frankly, I was learning how to handle emotions again.
BIG kicked me in the stomach. In a good way. I cried. I didn’t know this man and I cried. It helped me realize that I love learning about other peoples’ experiences, ones that I may never have, and how wonderful it is to be able to share our lives with the world in this way and learn about each other’s unique perspectives. I especially love (and relate to) the way Dan explains things so meticulously. I was rediscovering passion after having lost it for so long; BIG helped bring some of it back to me.
I got into the phandom here, something teenage me would have absolutely cringed at myself for. Even though I’d never dare judge anyone here for liking what they like, I didn’t know how to give myself that same grace. After what, five? years here, now I’ve finally been able to allow myself to enjoy what I like. The amazing community I’ve found myself in has been such a catalyst for this, and I’d never have gotten here without BIG.
So yeah. BIG’s pretty good. I used to watch it every day at work while prepping Pizza Hut pastas. I used to watch it as I tried to stave off a depressive episode, sitting in the bath eating candy, desperate for any happiness at all, before I got my ADHD diagnosis and meds. It never failed to make me laugh too cuz frankly, its funny moments are great. That bit where he looks at the tag of his jacket and it says HIGHLY FLAMMABLE gets me every single time. I live for dinof-related jokes. (And tbh, as aforementioned, being on reddit for so long, seeing shitty watercolour come so far puts a smile on my face too.)
idk. This is rambly and I’m not sure if I got everything across, but that’s because I kind of love that video so much it’s hard to contain it in one little post. Thanks for the ask, anon (and possibly the other asks recently too, if you’re the same anon) :)
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marauders-venting · 3 years
Text
Pardon My French
pairing: wolfstar (sirius x remus)
genre: fluff
warnings: none
words: 3556
note: thank you to @ probably_wizardingworld_artist on instagram for helping me translate things into french. also i got some of the lines that sirius says from this website https://www.fluentu.com/blog/french/french-pick-up-lines/
a/n: if you dont speak french (like me) dont look up a translation! everything will be clear by the end of the fic and its more fun if you find out along with remus. i mean, i cant really stop you if you want to translate the sentences but thats just my advice :)
Remus was sitting in the library, a French to English dictionary open on his lap, sighing in frustration as he flipped through the pages. For the past couple of weeks, Sirius had taken to murmuring things in French under his breath and it drove Remus crazy that he didn’t know what they meant. He had asked Sirius on several occasions but Sirius always refused to tell him. But the fact that he didn’t understand the words wasn’t the only reason it drove him crazy when Sirius spoke French. It’s not Remus’ fault that Sirius sounds really hot when his lips curve around the words in “the language of love”.
Remus tries not to think about it but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult because every time they’re alone together Sirius seems to find something to say in French (if only to piss Remus off).
The last time Sirius had said something in French to him had been last weekend. It was the first sunny weekend since the winter and Marlene had suggested that they all go down to the lake for a swim.
Remus’ brain could barely form a single coherent thought from the moment Sirius took off his shirt; he was too busy trying not to stare. He remembered jumping into the lake and trying to get warm by swimming to the far side, away from all his friends. Sirius had followed him to make sure he was okay.
“I’m fine,” he had said, smiling slightly at Sirius. “Just cold.”
“Oh okay,” Sirius said, looking relieved. He had glanced back at their friends before whispering, “On devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique” and submerging his head in the water and swimming back to James, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and Alice. Remus had felt a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
Then there was the time that Sirius had skipped Quidditch practice to visit Remus in the hospital wing after a particularly bad full moon. James, being the captain, had been able to delay the practice so that he and Peter could come to visit as well but they had to practice for the game the following day. James had to be at the practice because he was the captain and Peter had to be there because they didn’t have another Keeper to fill in. But James had given Sirius permission to stay with Remus (which showed just how terrible he felt that he couldn’t stay as well). They watched a bit of the practice from the hospital wing but Remus was getting frustrated, having to stay in a hospital bed for so long. So, after clearing it with Madam Pomfrey, Sirius helped Remus climb all the way to the Astronomy Tower. They sat up there watching the sunset when Sirius said, “Il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes.”
“Ugh, do you make it your life goal to patronize me?” Remus had said.
“Of course, Moony, what else would I live for?”
“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” he asked.
“Probably not,” Sirius had replied, grinning at him. “It’s too much fun.”
“Why do you even bother?” Remus said. “You know I don’t understand a single word of what you’re saying. Why don’t you go talk to someone who speaks French?”
“Because then they’d know what I was saying,” Sirius replied simply. He had refused to answer any more of his questions.
Remus had needed to spend that night in the hospital wing again. All night, Sirius’ voice rang through his head but every time he tried to make something coherent of it, actually words or letters or even sounds, he couldn’t. He could never remember what Sirius had said long enough to actually look it up or ask anyone.
But lately, Remus had noticed that Sirius had been repeating the same sentence in French practically every day. He recognises the sound of the words in Sirius’ mouth.
So today, Remus waited until he was alone with Sirius, waited for Sirius to say what Remus knew he would. And when he did Remus repeated the words in his head a million times until he remembered them. And now Remus was in the library and looking up the words in a dictionary. 
He knew that he could’ve gone to Lily and asked her to translate it for him but he didn’t want to. He knows it’s stupid but he feels like this is something that Sirius is saying to him and only to him. Remus had never heard Sirius whisper in French to anyone else. And as much as Remus pretended to be annoyed by it, he actually liked that he had this with Sirius. He liked that they had something that was just their own. And even though it was probably nothing, he didn’t want to share it with Lily right now.
Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi. That was the sentence. Remus looked up each word individually and came to the conclusion that he must have heard wrong or maybe the words were spelt differently to how they were pronounced. Because there was no way in hell that Sirius had said these words to him. It was impossible. Right? Remus didn’t know. And he knew that the only way he could be sure was by asking Lily. He had asked Sirius a million times to no avail. And he needs to know what Sirius has been saying to him, especially now that there’s a chance… No, Remus tells himself, you just translated wrong. Don’t get your hopes up. So Remus gives in. He’d rather ask Lily and find out what Sirius has been saying to him every day for the last month than keep this to himself without even understanding it.
“Hey Lily,” he started, getting her attention. Remus had waited until the two of them were alone, just in case he had translated right. Which he hadn’t. He knows he translated it wrong. But he’d still rather nobody knew about it. “What does ‘chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi’ mean?” He fumbled across the words a bit, hearing how terrible his pronunciation was. Lily looked at him, her eyebrows raised.
“Where on earth did you hear that sentence?” she asked.
“I read it somewhere,” Remus lied easily. “So what does it mean?”
“It means ‘every day, I fall more in love with you.’” Remus’ jaw dropped open. “Remus, who told you they’re in love with you?”
“What? Nobody! What makes you think someone said that to me?”
“You said that you read that sentence somewhere but if you had read it, you would have no idea how to pronounce it. Besides the look on your face when I told you what it means is more than enough. So who was it?”
“None of your business,” he said. “But y–you’re kidding, right? That’s not actually what it means. Right?”
“No, I’m not kidding, Rem. That’s what it means,” she replied, laughing at the look on his face. “Come on, tell me who it was.”
“No fucking way,” Remus said. “Besides, they’re probably joking. I mean… no, they’re definitely joking.” Lily shrugged.
“Just ask them,” she said. “And then you have to tell me who your secret admirer is.” She poked him in the side.
“Stooooop,” he said, jumping away from her and laughing against his will. “I’m going.” He got up and started walking away.
“Have fun with your mystery lover,” she called after him without looking back. Remus rolled his eyes but his mind was racing. So apparently he hadn’t been wrong. That was what Sirius had said to him. What does this even mean? He’s teasing you, said a voice in his head, like always. Sirius doesn’t love you. Not like that. But he said he does. Don’t be stupid. Sirius isn’t in love with you. He’s joking. Like always.
The next time Sirius said it, they were in the Room of Requirement. Sirius had ambushed Remus in the middle of his prefect rounds with Lily levitating a cardboard box in midair. Typical. He had practically given Remus a heart attack by interrupting his conversation with Lily, leaving Remus to wonder just how much of the conversation he had overheard.
“So have you talked to your mystery French lover yet?” Lily had teased. Remus groaned.
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “And I probably won’t.”
“Why not?” Lily demanded. “They’re being very romantic, Remus, you should at least appreciate their effort.”
“I’d appreciate it more if they’d just tell me what the fuck they want instead of sending me coded messages that they know I don’t understand,” Remus grumbled.
“Moonyyyyy,” Sirius said, coming up from behind him. Remus jumped, turning around, heart racing in his chest.
“Sirius? What are you doing here?” he asked. “You know it’s after hours, right?” Sirius snorted.
“Yes, Remus, I am fully aware of the fact that I’m breaking a school rule,” he said, smirking.
“Are you aware that technically Remus and I have to turn you in?” Lily said.
“Ah, but do you really plan on doing that, Evans?” Sirius asked.
“That depends,” she replied. “Why are you here?”
“Right,” Sirius remembered, then he turned to Remus. “James forgot to put this box with the rest of the stuff for tomorrow so I said I’d take it. And you’re coming with me.”
“Remind me why again?” Remus said.
“Moony, come on, don’t make me go alone. I’ll be lonely,” Sirius pouted.
“You are insufferable, did you know that?”
“And yet, you’ve tolerated me for 6 years now.”
“Yeah, the keyword there is ‘tolerated’,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “Lils…” he started, turning to her.
“Nope,” she said before he could even ask. “No way. You are not leaving me to do these rounds alone because then I’ll die of boredom. So unless you want me to tell McGonagall that your planning something for tomorrow, you’re going to finish this floor with me and then I’ll go back to the common room and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Evans…” Sirius pouted.
“Nope, that’s non-negotiable, Black. Also, do I want to ask?” She gestured to the hovering box.
“The less you know, the better,” he said. “Although, I would avoid the classrooms near the dungeons tomorrow if I were you.” She nodded and Remus thought he saw her smile slightly for a second.
“You go on, I’ll catch up,” he said to Sirius, knowing that Lily’s mind would not be changed. He couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have let her leave him to finish this chore alone either. She was right, it was painstakingly boring. Which is why he would much rather be with Sirius. But it was only fair that he finished tonight’s rounds with her; she did cover for him around the full moon, after all.
Sirius pouted but knew better than to argue and turned to go to the Room of Requirement. Remus watched him and he disappeared up a flight of stairs. Only then did he notice Lily was smirking at him.
“What?” he asked, sounding a bit defensive.
“So Sirius is your secret French admirer?” she said.
“W–What?” he spluttered. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, for one, the look on your face when he showed up right behind us while we were talking about your mystery lover,” Lily said. “It was the look people make when you’ve just been talking about someone and then they show up and you’re worried that they may have overheard you.”
“That… is a very specific look,” Remus said, avoiding the question she was asking.
“Then you smiled at him when you called him insufferable,” she said.
“So?”
“So it was one of those I’m-smiling-at-you-while-I’m-teasing-you-cause-I’m-secretly-in-love-with-you smiles.”
“Again, that's a very specific expression,” he said.
“Look, I know you like him, so will you just admit it already?”
“Why? What good would that information do you? It’s for me to worry about and for Sirius to never discover, ever.”
“Remus, you’re kidding, right?” she said. “Sirius literally told you that he loves you, in French no less.”
“Exactly, Lily. In French. If he actually meant it, why would he say it in a language that he knows I don’t understand? He just knew that I would look it up and he wanted to make some joke.”
“I really don’t think so, Remus,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I think he really loves you.”
“He doesn’t,” Remus said. “He can’t. Not like that.”
“Remus, do you love him?” she asked. Remus closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I love him.”
“So why are you doing this to yourself? Just ask him what he meant when he said it. You don’t even have to tell him anything, just ask him what he meant.”
“But… what if he says it was a joke?”
“First of all, I don’t think he will,” Lily said. “But if he does, that’s what you’re expecting, isn’t it? It won’t be a surprise or anything.”
“I know, I know, I just…” Remus sighed and looked away from her. “I don’t think I’m ready to hear him say it. To be properly rejected.”
“Oh, Rem,” she said. They had reached the end of the corridor and Lily stopped to hug him. “Obviously I’m not going to make you do anything. You know what I think. Go find Sirius now, he’ll be waiting for you. Do what you think is right.”
“Yeah,” Remus said, hugging her back. “Yeah, okay.” So Lily went in the direction of the common room and Remus went to the Room of Requirement.
He found Sirius sitting with his back against the wall, the box beside him.
“You’re an idiot,” Remus told him, trying to put the conversation with Lily out of his mind. “You’re practically begging to get caught.” Sirius shrugged.
“I was waiting for you,” he said. “Come on, let’s go in.” They paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. We need a place to hide our things, Remus thought. A door appeared and Sirius opened it, leading the box in with his wand. They had been here before to hide loads of things. The room was pretty cluttered from years of students dumping their things in it but they knew where exactly to hide the box so that they’d be able to find it tomorrow when they needed it. Remus followed Sirius through aisles upon aisles of junk, looking at all the broken, discarded things people threw in here.
They found the corner where they’d left everything else and Sirius added the box to the rest of the pile.
“Are we done here?” Remus asked.
“Yep, we can leave now,” Sirius said. They had started walking back towards the door when Remus heard Sirius say it from behind him.
“Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi.” Remus turns to him and stops him in his tracks.
“Pads, why do you keep saying that? Who are you talking to?”
“Remus, you are aware that you’re the only one here right? I’m talking to you.”
“Then why… why are you—?”
“I know, I know, you don’t understand French,” Sirius says. “That’s why it's fun. It’s amusing to know something that you don’t, for once.”
“Sirius… I know what that sentence means,” Remus says quietly. Sirius’ neck snaps up.
“What?”
“I know what that sentence means,” Remus repeats.
“No, you don’t,” Sirius says, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I do. I asked Lily after the last time you said it. She translated for me.”
“Fuck, I didn’t know Lily could speak French,” Sirius says, rubbing a hand over his face. “So… so this whole time you’ve known what I’m saying? So you know that I… you know that I… oh god, Remus I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to… I was just…” Sirius starts to back away, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at Remus. Remus reaches out and grabs his hand.
“Don’t go,” Remus says. “Sirius. Is it a joke? Are you making a joke? Actually, no, don’t tell me. Cause if it’s a joke I’d rather you bury me under all the crap in this room and spare me the pain.”
“What?”
“It’s not a joke, is it?” Remus asked, a pleading look in his eyes.
“No,” Sirius said, softly. “It’s not a joke. I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean to—”
“Shh,” Remus said, pressing a finger to Sirius’ lips. “Sirius,” Remus tucked Sirius’ hair behind his ear. Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius stepping towards him, towards his touch. “I love you, too.” Sirius gapes at him
“Really?” he whispers.
“Yeah,” Remus says. He’s still holding Sirius’ hand. He pulls Sirius closer and lets his other hand graze Sirius’ cheek.
“Puis-je t'embrasser?” Sirius whispers.
“Pads, I… I don’t know what that means.” Sirius lets out a small laugh and looks down at the floor. Then he looks back up at Remus, his grey eyes glistening in the last sliver of sunlight. He’s biting his lip.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Remus says, without thinking. He feels the blush blooming on his cheeks but Sirius is already kissing him, rising on his tip-toes to make his lips reach Remus’. Remus feels electric currents dancing around his body, unable to contain the excitement. He’s kissing Sirius. Sirius is kissing him back. Sirius loves him. Sirius loves him in the same way that he loves Sirius. Sirius is snaking his hands around Remus’ waist pulling him closer. Sirius’ hair is soft, tangled between his fingers. Sirius is here, in his arms, and it’s everything Remus has been wanting and more.
“Wait, so now can you tell me everything you’ve been saying in French the whole time?” They’re sitting in the same large armchair, hands still linked together, legs tucked against their chests, knees and thighs and hips pressed together. Remus is very aware of every point where his skin is making contact with Sirius’. He’s counting them.
They found the armchair in the Room of Requirement; it’s unclear to them whether the chair is something that’s been dumped in the room by somebody else or if the room conjured it up because they were looking for it. 
Neither one of them wants to go back to the common room yet. Remus doesn’t want to see Lily’s smirk and to have to admit she was right at the moment. He’ll do that tomorrow. Right now, all he wants is to be with Sirius. To press little kisses to his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips just because he can.
“Oh god,” Sirius says, burying his face in between Remus’ shoulder and the back of the armchair. “It’s like you want me to embarrass myself.”
“This surprises you?” Remus kisses the corner of his mouth. Then his jaw. Then his neck. Just because he can. “Please.”
“Ah fine,” Sirius gives in. “Um, what do you want to know?”
“What did you say that day at the lake?” Remus asks.
“Oh that. I said, ‘on devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique’. It means uh… ugh, you’re going to laugh at me for this. It means ‘you should be arrested for excessive beauty in public’,” Sirius said, blushing. Remus rolled his eyes but he felt his cheeks heat too. He smiles a little.
“What about that day on the Astronomy Tower?” he continues.
“Ugh,” Sirius buries his face in his hands. “You’re trying to kill me. I said, ‘il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes’. Which means, uh… ‘there’s so much sun in your eyes that I get a tan when you look at me.’”
“You’re quite the poet, aren’t you?” Remus smiles. “And what about tonight?”
“I thought you said you knew what that meant,” Sirius says. “Or were you bluffing the whole time?”
“No, I know what it means,” Remus says. “I just want to hear you say it. In English this time, please.”
“So demanding,” Sirius teases. “I’ve said it in French a million times already and you want me to say it in English? What difference does it make?”
“Well, none to you, you speak both languages.”
“Oh, alright,” Sirius says. It’s the first time Remus has seen his face really go red. He decides he likes it. “Every day I fall more in love with you.” Remus can’t hide his smile, nor does he want to, as he leans in to kiss Sirius. He brushes his lips against Sirius’ timidly before connecting them, his hand caressing Sirius’ cheek. Remus loses count of the points of contact between him and Sirius as their bodies melt together and Remus worries that he’s about to wake up from a dream. But when he feels Sirius’ hand gently tracing the scars on his hand he knows that this is real, that Sirius can really love him. Sirius does love him.
People come to the Room of Requirement to throw things away, to hide things that they don’t want anybody else to know about, to leave things they never want to see again. But that night, Remus didn’t just leave something in the Room of Requirement. He found something, too.
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soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years
Text
The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo
It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.
You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.
Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)
Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!
Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB
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You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.
The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.
*beginning of flashback*
"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.
"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"
"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.
He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.
"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.
*end of flashback*
He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).
He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).
The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.
You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.
You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.
"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.
"Good news?" you asked him.
"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.
"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.
"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."
"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.
"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.
"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.
"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.
"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.
"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.
He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!
"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.
"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.
You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.
"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.
"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.
"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.
You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.
"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.
"I'll never understand how you drink that"
"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"
"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.
"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.
"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.
"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.
"It's true, though"
"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.
"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.
"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"
"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.
"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.
"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.
"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.
"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.
"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.
"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.
"Tomorrow?" you asked her.
"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.
"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.
"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"
"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.
"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.
"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.
"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.
"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.
"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.
"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.
"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.
"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.
"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.
"Burn!" Daniel laughed.
"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.
"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.
"Perfect!" she beamed.
>>> end of part 1 <<<
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Text
Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 9)
(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6) (chapter 7) (chapter 8)
series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: smut (semi-public fingering, specifically), angst... I think that's it
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After your impromptu motorcycle drive you stayed out all night; exploring the empty city, ducking into dive bars if they were still open, dancing in the streets to music only the two of you could hear.
The city was so eerily empty at night, nothing like a metropolitan complex like London. But it was less creepy and more peaceful, especially when you were walking with Sebastian hand-in-hand along the cobblestone path. He started to swing your hand as you walked and it made you laugh.
“Teach me more Romanian words, please,” you requested, looking at him and struggling to fight your smile. “Română?”
“Eu voi,” he nodded, looking around and pointing to the ground. “Stradă.”
“Stradă... we call it the street,” you answered. “Or road. Road?” you prompted.
“Road,” he repeated.
“Good! Your pronunciation isn’t too bad either,” you grinned.
“Copac,” he announced as he pointed to a tree.
“Copac,” you repeated. “In English, it’s tree.”
“Tree,” he smiled. “Engleza este o prostie.”
He suddenly pulled you into him and spun you around in a twirl, making you laugh. “Dans,” he said as he stepped his feet in time with yours. “A dansa.”
“Yeah, dancing,” you smiled. “I haven’t danced in years, you know, except for tonight.”
He surprised you with a sudden kiss that was unexpectedly chaste, just a press of his lips on yours that either lasted longer than it normally would or just slowed time for a moment. “Sărut,” he whispered when he pulled back.
”Sărut,” you repeated.
“Aș putea să te sărut ore în șir. Ai cele mai perfecte buze,” he breathed, running his thumb over your bottom lip which had gone slack just from listening to him talk.
Your fingers trailed down over the portion of his chest exposed by his unbuttoned collar. “I didn’t know I could feel this way about somebody,” you admitted aloud to yourself. “I wish I could stay…”
His hands lifted your face to look up at him. “Nu face asta. Nu te mai ascunde în gândurile tale. Fi cu mine.”
“Sărut?” you requested, making him grin.
“Da, iubirea mea,” he cooed as he leaned in and kissed you again, smiling into it.
You really hadn't even liked kissing all that much before you met him… you just hadn't seen the appeal beyond warming up to more exciting activities, but now? This was all the excitement you needed; you could kiss him for hours and never get bored.
That said, apparently Sebastian had exciting plans of his own, because you found yourself being backed up against a brick wall, his hands exploring your body— subtle at first, just rubbing your arms and gripping your waist, but then it got less ambiguous as you felt his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, just barely grazing over your stomach.
His touch trailed higher, nearly reaching your breast but stopping just before: you didn't mean to whine impatiently, but you heard it muffled against his lips and felt him chuckle lightly, breaking the kiss and leaning in to whisper in your ear.
"Atât de nevoiași," he hummed, nibbling on your earlobe as your thighs clenched together much too strongly when he'd barely touched you.
You clutched at his shirt, watching as his hand moved down to the top of your pants, the tips of his fingers just barely breaching past the fabric and starting to slide down.
"Here?" you gasped, finally remembering you were in public though you hadn't seen another person out here since you left the bar.
His hand moved lower down and your stomach fluttered with the forbidden nature of it all, feeling like a rebellious high schooler fooling around behind the movie theater when you both had curfew in ten minutes. But then he found your clit right away and it was nothing like high school.
"Oh fuck," you whimpered, shuddering and pushing your hips up to silently beg for more. He rubbed circles over your bud and smiled against your neck, already making it a struggle for you to stay quiet.
“Un alt cuvânt pe care ar trebui să-l știi,” he whispered, the pitch of his voice making it clear he was saying something beautifully filthy, “este dracu. Vreau să te dracu.”
“Seba, please,” you sighed.
"Dar nu cred că o pot face aici," he added with a soft laugh.
Two fingers suddenly pushed into you and didn't seem to struggle with it at all since he already had you soaked, curling into a tender spot inside you right away.
“Yes,” you whined.
“Yes?” he repeated with a smirk.
“Yes,” you said it again, “fuck yes.”
“Fuck,” he laughed, the word that was so familiar to you almost sounding foreign when he said it. “Spui asta mult. Cred că asta înseamnă că vei veni.”
“Your fingers feel so good,” you moaned, barely enough air in your lungs to get the words out. "Please… please don't stop…"
He kissed you again, open-mouthed and desperate as you both breathed heavily, his tongue sliding against yours as if to taste your moans. Hoping to stay upright now that your knees felt a little wobbly, you slipped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. That, in turn, led to you feeling the hard outline of his cock pressing against your thigh and you nearly melted right there, wishing you could feel him inside you now but figuring it probably wasn't worth the risk of being arrested for indecent exposure.
By now he knew you like the back of his hand, it seemed, because you were already throttling full speed ahead toward the edge, shocks of heat jumping up your spine each time he curled his fingers inside you.
"I— I'm gonna—" you stammered through your warning. He nodded, moving his fingers faster as you bit your lip a little too hard.
Just when you thought you couldn't help but cry out he kissed you one more time, rough and hungry, and muffled the sounds of you reaching your peak literally by his hand.
Everything that had twisted and snapped all at once began to soothe as you sighed and pushed his hand away slowly, feeling your walls spasm one more time when he slipped his fingers out and slid them right over your clit.
He pulled his hand out of your pants and brought his fingers to your lips; you dutifully cleaned them off for him, watching his lips twitch into a brief snarl when you took his fingers down your throat.
"Vom termina asta mai târziu," he promised darkly as he pulled you off of the wall and spun you around, and you wanted to return the favor but he stopped your hand from sliding up his thigh. "Mai târziu," he insisted, instead guiding you around the block and back to where his bike was parked.
Hopping on the back again as he started it up, you relished the change to cling onto his back tightly. He drove you through the empty streets, over sprawling hills and through stone archways, but just as you noticed this wasn’t the way to get back to the farmhouse, he slowed down and turned into a place to park.
“Why are you pulling over?” you asked, furrowing your brow as he parked the bike and motioned for you to get off with him. “Where are we going?”
“Ai incredere in mine,” he smiled as he took your helmet off for you and kissed you again, quickly, taking your hand and guiding you down a secluded path. You followed him down a few strange alleys, under clotheslines and sconces that started to dim with the oncoming morning light. Finally, he navigated you around a turn, through a tight gap, and out of nowhere you were on an overlook; one that gave you the perfect view of the sun beginning to rise over the city. “Wow,” you whispered, watching enraptured as soft yellow light overtook everything, the village and the woods in the distance beginning to come to life.
“Vremuri de genul ăsta mă fac să-mi fie dor de casă,” he sighed, before looking at you again from where he leaned on his elbows over the stone railing. “Îți faci mai ușor. Nu mai sunt singur.”
“This place is so beautiful, I’ve never lived anywhere like this before,” you admitted. “Maybe it’s just that it’s different that makes me like it so much… I guess I could say the same about you.”
Your eyes met his again, and the way he looked at you… it was like he saw right through you. Honestly, it was a bit terrifying. You'd never been so vulnerable to someone. You liked it more than you expected.
But it still scared you.
"Haide, hai să mergem acasă," he smiled as he stood upright again and took your hand.
"Let's get back to the house," you decided, but he was already leading you back to the bike where you rode through the countryside one more time, doing your best to memorize it all while you still had the chance.
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You found tears in your eyes, though you didn’t remember crying, as you typed the final page of your manuscript.
It was a first draft, nothing close to a completed novel, but you were on your way to jumpstarting your career again. The only problem? You couldn’t have a career here. You couldn’t be published while living here, you couldn’t even edit this thing properly without a computer and you didn’t even have one here.
You needed to go home.
It killed you to realize that this was not a sustainable system: you living here— Hungary or Mrs. Alberti’s lakehouse— and falling in love with a near-stranger.
Sure, it was good for what it needed to be; he reminded you what it was like to be cherished and cared for, maybe you helped him break some dry spell (although you couldn’t imagine that this guy was anything but drowning in pussy all the time, but whatever). Regardless, it couldn’t last. It wasn’t meant to be anything other than… whatever it was meant to be.
You flipped through the pages of what you’d written already, admiring the journey that you saw on the paper— not just that of the characters, but your own as well. You could feel the weakness in your own voice in that first chapter, as if your hurt was right there painted on the page with the ink-pressed letters. You could remember shakily typing these words, hoping they would distract you from the fears and memories that plagued your mind.
A few chapters in, you could see the hope and optimism that built with the action of the story. You could feel your own love mirrored in the way you wrote your story, it was painfully powerful.
It brought a sense of closure, in a way; it gave you a chance to appreciate everything you’d learned from this, even if you knew you couldn’t take it with you into the next chapter. But this love didn’t feel like a subplot, it didn’t feel like a stepping stone onto the next adventure— it felt like what you’d been looking for your whole life. Maybe that’s just how it feels to be in the ‘honeymoon phase’ or whatever it’s called; maybe it’ll fade soon, with time and distance.
That was what you silently prayed for as you packed everything, folded your clothes, checked the nightstand drawers for those random trinkets they seemed to accrue. Funny how packing to leave this place took you longer than it did to throw your stuff together when you left Michael, and you’d been living there for years.
Then again, you'd known Michael so much longer than you'd known Sebastian, and yet it was Seba that meant so much to you now.
You weren’t sure what would be more difficult: leaving him, or knowing that you could never hope to explain everything in a way he would understand. You considered writing a letter and hoping that he would come upon a Romanian to English dictionary— but with everything you wanted to say, that would take him hours. After all that, would he find your words worth it? Or would he see it all as one last chore from a peculiar fling?
You were pretty sure he didn’t see it as a fling. But maybe he would understand that it was best left as a very unique rebound.
You left your room just to go get some coffee (or maybe something a little stronger, if it was available) and jumped when you saw Sebastian in the hall, causing you to quickly close the door behind you. “I didn’t expect to see you upstairs,” you greeted.
“Obținerea cearșafurilor curate,” he explained as he opened the door to the linen closet and pulled out some bedsheets.
“Oh, yeah, those could probably use a change,” you mumbled as you realized he may not have washed them since the last time you stayed in his bed.
“Vrei și tu câteva?” he asked, pointing towards your door and holding up the sheets.
“Oh, uh, I don’t need any more sheets,” you shook your head, “but thank you…”
His face curled into a mischievous grin. “Poate că trebuie să murdărim acele foi,” he purred as he set the linens down and stepped closer to you, wrapping you in his arms.
“Seba,” you mumbled, but he must not have heard the hesitance in your voice as he leaned in and kissed your neck, making you sigh a little. He hummed contentedly and lightly bit your ear, and you were almost ready to just let him do it and procrastinate this conversation a little longer, but you had to sigh and push him back.
“Esti bine?” he asked, voice heavy with concern, as he straightened up and examined your face.
“Sebastian…” you started with a sigh, the words you’d been anxiously mulling over all night suddenly abandoning you. “What happened between us meant so much to me,” you continued slowly, “but the fact of the matter is, my first marriage isn’t even over yet. I mean, it’s over, but… I’m not really in a place where I can… start a new relationship…”
He looked back at you, that same blankness of incomprehension you were so used to painting his expression, and yet it was somber; he seemed to sense the tone, even if he was losing out on the specific ideas.
“It’s not fair to either of us, really,” you sighed. “I’m still mourning my marriage— and you were a really important part of that for me. So, thank you.”
You realized you needed to express your gratitude more thoroughly. Thinking quickly, you reached for his hand and opened it, placing his palm to your chest. He looked at you, a little confused.
“Thank you,” you repeated, looking him right in the eye.
He nodded slightly.
“Someday, somebody is gonna love you the way you need— the way you deserve,” you told him, stopping briefly to bite your lip in hopes it would stop quivering. “God, I wish it could be me. But it can’t.”
He held your face and kissed you, and much to your dismay it didn’t feel like a goodbye kiss. It didn’t feel like he knew this was the end. “Nu plânge,” he whispered. “Te iubesc.”
He kissed you again and you let yourself get lost in it like a complete fucking idiot, melting into his arms as he opened your bedroom door and pulled you inside with him. For a moment, it was like any other time, like any other perfect kiss with him, but then he pulled back and looked around and you had to watch his eyes as he realized. You had to watch his face as his smile fell away and his hope turned to despondence.
The whole room was packed. Heavy trunks on the bed, the sheets already stripped so Mrs. Alberti could wash them. Everything that made it feel like your room was gone, and it was just a guest room again, feeling bigger and emptier than ever.
All that was left was the typewriter on the table, because you still couldn't lift it.
“O să pleci,” he gasped, stepping back and releasing you from his embrace. “Chiar mă părăsești.”
You knew that look he was wearing on his face; beyond heartbreak— betrayal. You were all too familiar with it. “I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, “I would stay if I could, but I can’t, can I?”
A car horn honked outside, making you wince.
“That’s my ride,” you mumbled. “I have to go…”
You started to reach for your trunks and for a moment you thought that was really it. “Nu te duce,” he interjected suddenly, grabbing at your wrist and turning you to face him.
“I’m sorry— I have to leave—” you rushed, trying to grab your bags again.
“Nu te duce,” he repeated again desperately, pulling you close, cradling your face in his hands.
“Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” you pleaded as your eyes began to water.
“Stay,” he begged, and you didn’t know that he knew that word. A tear fell; you wished he didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I can’t.”
You stood up on your tiptoes to try to kiss him one last time, but he grimaced and pushed you away.
“Să trăieşti,” he said quickly, bitterly, as he stormed out of the room.
“Sebastian, wait—!”
But he was already running down the stairs; you heard the sound of the back door slamming a moment after he was out of sight, and another honk of the horn outside reminded you that you didn’t have time to chase after him. This wasn’t how you wanted it to end— really, you didn’t want it to end at all, and maybe if it had to (which it did) then this was as good a way as any. But you hated to leave like this when the last thing you wanted was to hurt him.
Defiantly wiping the tears from your face, you lifted the first of your trunks and made your way down the stairs, bringing them to the front door where the driver of the cab was waiting to carry them the rest of the way for you.
“Could you go upstairs and get my typewriter for me?” you asked him. “I can’t carry it well myself.”
He nodded and did as he was told, another small but painful reminder of your first day here. Mrs. Alberti came around the bend wearing a knitted shawl and a bittersweet smile.
“I hope you didn’t plan to go without saying goodbye,” she teased you.
“Of course not,” you smiled, “goodbye Mrs. Alberti.”
“I didn’t mean to me, dear,” she explained, making your heart twist.
“I don’t think he wants to hear it from me,” you admitted awkwardly. “I don’t think he can, literally.”
She just sighed and looked away, just as the driver loaded the last of your things into the trunk.
“So, this is it then,” you shrugged as you turned to face her.
“I doubt that,” she smiled. “It’s not a goodbye, sweetheart, just a ‘see you later.’”
“Sure,” you agreed, knowing she was wrong. You couldn’t come back here; you couldn’t leave him twice.
The driver shut the trunk and got back into the driver’s seat, leaving you to stare up at the house and take one last moment to soak it all in.
“You be sure to call me when your book is a big hit!” Mrs. Alberti instructed with a grin.
You were too choked up to say anything back, so you just waved and nodded as you got in the car and took a deep breath. “To the train station, please,” you mumbled to the driver, covering your eyes with your hand as you felt the car reverse and turn onto the road. You couldn't open them, or you’d look back, and you couldn’t look back.
Since your eyes were closed, you had no way to know that Sebastian chased after the car for nearly a block, giving up at the turn of the road, falling into the gravel and laying there for a while, repeating that one English word he couldn’t get out of his head: stay.
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barzzal · 3 years
Text
when the ball drops
summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.
↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you
↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)
↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)
↳ length: imagine; 5.9k
↳ masterlist: the barn
note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)
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Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.
Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.
The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night. 
“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.
You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve. 
“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay. 
“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin. 
“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.” 
A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath? 
“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor. 
“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”
Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you. 
“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.
“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila. 
You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along. 
But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?
𖥸
It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays. 
Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended. 
“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth. 
“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time. 
“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way. 
Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city. 
“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.
“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for. 
“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar. 
“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her. 
Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug. 
“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with. 
“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second. 
“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.
“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.
You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone? 
A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.
A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.
“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation. 
“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl. 
Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.
Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.
“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line. 
Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.
Atta boy, Mat. 
“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.” 
He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 
“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.
“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 
You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.” 
“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?” 
You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.” 
Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.
“See those girls?” 
Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well. 
“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.” 
“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”
Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin. 
“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.
“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?
“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.” 
“Exactly.” 
Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers. 
Apparently, it’s on the house.
“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.
“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.” 
To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.
“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you. 
There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.” 
He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind. 
“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.” 
“That long? How come?”
“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”
Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone. 
Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?” 
Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys. 
“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly. 
You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”
The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him. 
It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him. 
“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you. 
You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. 
You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab. 
Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.
Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.
“I highly doubt that.” 
𖥸
Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make. 
“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?” 
He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers. 
“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at. 
Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach. 
“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.
“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window. 
“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.
“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.” 
After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.
You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind. 
“Come on, I know where we should go.” 
𖥸
Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.
There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career. 
Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night. 
You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point. 
“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm. 
The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze. 
“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.” 
“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him. 
“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble. 
“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.” 
You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence. 
You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did. 
“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”
You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago. 
You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.
You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.
That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.
Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.
Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.
Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.
“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. 
He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.
“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.” 
“A crappy one, of course.” You add. 
Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.
“Definitely not this one.” 
As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.
You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays. 
“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was. 
Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year. 
“Will you walk me to my car?”
𖥸
You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play. 
“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly. 
Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.” 
“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment. 
“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.
You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. 
Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion. 
“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.
You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.
Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.
Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured. 
𖥸
Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years. 
You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so. 
Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat. 
You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.
You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.
Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard. 
“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause. 
However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night. 
“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice. 
Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”
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happyselves · 3 years
Text
Private Fansign { Daniel Ricciardo x reader one shot }
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You are a fan of Daniel Ricciardo and everyone around you knew that so they weren't really surprised when you announced that you were going to go to the next GP at Spa Francorchamps. What they didn't know is that you were one of the lucky fans to have a private conversation with mister Ricciardo himself and you didn't know how to react to that. You weren't even sure to be able to say anything to him and as the day was getting closer you were getting anxious. You could do it, he was a normal human being after all, no ? A very sexy and attractive human being you might add. Fuck you were so fucked up.
The day is here, it was today the day you will meet him, Thursday, media day. How to dress ? You didn't want to be all " pretty " . You wanted to be you, be like nothing was happening, like how you were everyday. You end up driving alone to the circuit because after all who would come to the circuit on a Thursday, it wasn't really interesting, but for you this 20mn ride was hell, you thought again and again about so many scenarios of what will happen. Obviously you couldn't find one that would make perfect sense and your mind was wandering everywhere.
As you came in front of the paddock gate, someone asked you who you were and of course they didn't know so they had to call someone from the team to come and make sure you were allowed in as it was close for fans, especially on media day. Apparently you were the last one to arrive which mean that you will be the last one to see Daniel, which didn't help you in your affair cause that would mean more time to stress beforehand, but the Pr assistant told you in your ears that it might also mean more time with him and your anxiety level went to the top and beyond.
You've waited for what felt like hours, seeing everyone getting out of Daniel's driver room all happy and content with the moment they shared with the famous australian. Finally after 2 hours it was your turn and you were feeling bad for him now. He had to spend all those time with everyone when he should be relaxing and you felt out of place here. As you knocked on his door he opened the door, the biggest smile on his face like he didn't spend this much time repeating the same thing other and another to every fan he meets. You knew you only had like 20mn with him but it was already too much for you, you didn't know how your heart would take it this far between the guilt of using his time and your selfish excitement to finally have him in front of you. He was perfect, even more perfect than on tv or on picture. You were stunned by his beauty and how muscular he was. You couldn't find your words and he had to speak first.
Dan : Hi, You are " YN " right ?
He knew your name ... of course he knew your name, you bet his assistant told him before. You didn't know how you found the courage to stumble and respond to him.
You : ahhh yeah that's me hi nice ... nice to meet you
Dan was smiling so brightly, he made a gesture for you to sit next to him on the couch and you did as he asked.
Dan : So how is it going for you ? Ready for the weekend ?
Okay it was time to build up character here and be who you are, be a strong person and be confident in order to have a normal conversation with him, like you told yourself for weeks now, he is a human being like you.
You : Well I'm doing good, really looking forward to this weekend.
Dan : Nice, do you have any for me ?
You had so many questions for him, but you also wanted to be honest with him and honest with you.
You : Well I do but honestly I don't really want to bother with them, you must feel exhausted after speaking with everyone and I really don't want to be one of those. I never thought I would have won this contest for meeting you as I entered it, but here I am in front and I can't even say two words without sputtering.
His eyes grew bigger as he looked at you for the first time, you pierced him, really saw how he was right there and that cut him off guard and now he was intrigued and was fully awake for you.
DAN POV :
She wasn't like the others fans, she looked like one of them, but she had no filter, she saw how tired I was and she looks at me with her two eyes, her two beautiful hungry eyes, beautiful shape, beautiful color that I drown myself in them for a second before snapping back to reality. I need to distract myself, I need to change, to eat something, I need to focus on something else other than her eyes, or her body or her lips ... oh god her lips, gorgeous lips, very plump lips. No nope not happening Daniel no you need no woman will distract you this weekend. Not that they were already distracting me cause it's been a while since I .... NOOOO
You POV :
He stood up abruptly,surprising me in the process, looking confused. He had a nervous giggle.
Dan : Oh that's very nice of you, I'm fine don't worry ... I just remember that I need to change my shirt because I will have the press conference after our talk and ...
You stop him mid sentence.
You : Go ahead, it's okay It's not like I never saw a man shirtless before.
The fuck did you just say that, very suttle, very no filter of you, lord nice one. When you were flirting with him now, you couldn't stop yourself wouldn't you ? You almost had a boyfriend, but Daniel ... Daniel was unique and he was on your list ... Yeah you know the list of them you could cheat with without feeling guilty. Ohh come one mind why are you thinking about this right now. You looked at him turn himself so quick, hiding himself from some blushing of embarrassment, embarrassment was more like it.
Daniel POV :
Oh fucking hell, I was biting my lips so hard right now, hiding my face for her not to see that I like it, I like every words that was coming out of her mouth. She is getting so interesting and is already making my day worth it. And I was about to make hers cause I definitely saw that she was looking at me like I was a target. She is straight forward without noticing it, her body is speaking for her.
You POV :
He took off his merch shirt and the only thing you could focus on was his back, his muscles. As you were licking your lips to water them because he makes them dry off, you've met his gaze in the mirror. Crap .. You look away so quickly and he notices it, but your eyes bring themselves to him again, your head tilting as if you were watching some beautiful art in a museum and this time when his eyes meet you again you don't flinch, instead you sustain your eyes to him. What was happening to you, that's not you, it's your inner self talking there, the woman that was finding this man hot and sexy and perfectly at your taste. He was going for it too,you noticed that the tension between you two was waking up . Not what you were expecting at all even after all these scenarios you had running in your head earlier.His aura was so attractive and you really hoped at this moment that you were the only one with whom he had this weird feeling and weird connection. Jealousy you weren't sure yet but it was bothering you to imagine him being flirty with other people even if you knew the character that he was. He took his time to put on his team shirt and you were enjoying every second of the show he was offering you. As he was trying to put his polo on you noticed his face making some grins ... he had some bad tension on his neck and shoulder and you were feeling bad for him because he will have to wait again before his coach will be able to give him some relief massage. The thought of you having a degree in physiotherapy and being able to help him came through your mind. You stood up and went behind him, he was still looking at you in the mirror, wondering in his gaze.
You : Just don't move, I know what I am doing, I know it's not my place to do that because you have your coach and all, but you can't stay with tension in your muscles, remove the shirt.
You were giving him an order and he was weirdly glad to obey you. You put your cold hand on his neck, started to massage him and he felt the tension leaving his body right away and couldn't help but close his eyes and moaned. That excited you so much, that sound, you wanted to hear it more and it was really starting to get hot in here. Your hands were getting warmer as you worked your way on his back to massage him, he was feeling so relaxed now and you could technically stop now but your hands weren't moving, instead your massage was turning into caress on his skin making him shiver. You were probably insane for doing what you were doing but you wanted to taste his skin so much that your lips connect to the back of his neck and going down to his trapezius muscle, his eyes still shut, his mouth opening, his head tilting, all these signals were screaming green light for you to continue. After all it is scientifically proven that love language could release the tension in the muscle. You start kissing his back, following the line down his spin before going up again to kiss his shoulder. Your mind wasn't thinking anything anymore and you didn't care at all what could happen next or if you had to be surprised, you wanted him,not you as a fan wanted her favorite driver but you as a woman wanted this man in front of you.
Dan : You need to stop before I do something you might regret.
He was breathless, his words came out more in whispers than anything else and you couldn't get enough of it.
You : I think I will go to hell anyway.
He turns so abruptly, catching you by the neck and bringing you closer to him, connecting your lips in a crash, literally eating you alive. All that passion burning was leaving in this kiss, he was catching your lips making it his, biting them or more like torturing them until they were on the verge of bleeding. This man must have some serious sexual tension going on down there for so long and he was finally freeing it all. That was good cause you too needed to blow some steam, you just never thought it would be with Daniel Ricciardo. You felt him getting away from you, loosen up his grip on you, before suddenly opening his eyes, realising what he just did.
Dan : I am so so sorry, this is ...
You : Shhh don't that's on me I shouldn't massage you, I know that as a physio, releasing tension can provoke some reaction, releasing lust and desire, that's really on me.
Dan : Still I shouldn't have changed in front of you in the first place.
You were too far gone now for not being honest.
You : I like the view thought and I still enjoy it
You were looking at his trail going down to his belt, playing with his hair there, looking at him all innocent where inside you were burning for him.
Dan : You are making it very difficult for me to stop things here, I knew you were trouble as soon as I saw you enter that room. I really wanna kiss you again really but I need to change and go, trust me I didn't plan this at all and I would love to stay here with you and take care of this * putting at his well awake bulge * but I have an obligation.
You were pouting now, very sad but you understand, and you let him go.
Dan : Oh don't look at me like that, I already miss your touch, your fingers are magic and I swear I should fire Michael right now and have you as my new coach but I feel like we wouldn't do the right kind of training for you and I.
You were both laughing now, it was the truth, something about this man was attracting you in a way that nobody could understand and you felt he was living the same experience as you.
You : Well I'm here all weekend, all by myself, I wouldn't do that normally because that's not me, but I'm gonna shoot my shot. There is my number here and the address of where my hotel is, just ask for my name at the reception and I'm sure they will let you know my room number.
He was smiling as you gave him a piece of paper with the information on it.
Dan : There are so many women trying to get into my bed, but rarely are thoses who let me come into their, you are the unique one and you will be the only exception, I will text you the hours okay.
You were back to your flirty but shy self, almost childish self.
You : Well I hope you will like some sweets cause I'm planning on ordering strawberries.
You were obviously referring to that picture of him eating strawberries in his garage, making him understand that you are having some thoughts about a night together with him and he was getting excited just by the thought of it.
Dan : Well I believe I do.
You both heard an assistant of his calling him outside to the room, his cut to go and leave you, before he could say anything you just took your thing and head to the door but before leaving him with himself and his thought you slightly turned toward him one last time.
You : Well Mr Ricciardo, it was such a nice delight to meet you, did I ever tell you, you were my favorite driver ?
And then you left him with a smile on your face and a smirk on him. For sure he knows now you were but did you both know that at that moment you were becoming the favorite person of each other ? How can a private fansign like that could end up changing your life forever ? You didn't even get an autograph, what a shame, you needed to make sure he would make up for that later and add an extra to it for the inconvenience.
Masterlist
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spiltscribbles · 3 years
Note
Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333
Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!
.-
You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜
.-
“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”
Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.
“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”
“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.
“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”
“That is neither here, nor there.”
“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”
“You’re a twat.”
“And you’re acting dodgy.”
“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.
“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.
“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”
“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”
“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”
“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”
“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”
“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”
“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.
“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”
“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”
“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.
“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”
“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”
“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”
“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”
“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”
“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”
“She’s the only one who understands me.”
“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”
“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.
“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.
.-
There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.
That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.
The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.
“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.
“Uncle Pads!”
Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.
“Am I coming to yours then?”
“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.
“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”
Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.
“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.
Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.
“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.
Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.
“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”
“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”
“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”
“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.
“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”
“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”
The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”
And fuck.
Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.
Damn it.
.-
Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.
It’s totally fine.
That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.
“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.
“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.
“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”
“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.
“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.
“Knew that he is exactly your type?”
“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.
“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”
“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”
“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”
Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”
“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”
“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”
“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”
“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.
“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”
“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.
“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.
“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.
“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.
“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”
“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.
“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“
“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”
Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”
“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”
The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.
“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.
“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”
“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.
“I think it’d be cool if you did.”
And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”
“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”
Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.
“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”
“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.
.-
That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!
“Mr Black, twice in one week?”
“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.
“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.
“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.
“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”
Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”
“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.
“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”
Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.
“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”
“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.
Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.
“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”
“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.
.-
~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜
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The Hard Things
Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.
Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.
Calum X Black Female OC.
I cried once writing this. 7.4k words. Angst. Just angst and sarcasm.
@notinthesameguey is personally responsible for this. So blame her.
The Hard Things--Alternative Ending
Masterlist (on semi hiatus)
___________________________________
If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.
But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.
Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.
This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.
“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.
“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”
Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”
The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”
The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.
“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.
“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”
There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.
“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”
When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”
Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.
In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.
Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”
Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.
With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.
“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.
Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”
“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?
“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”
Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”
“So says the expert?”
Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”
Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”
A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.
Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”
“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”
“In the wrist.”
A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.
Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.
“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.
“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”
Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.
When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.
******
Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”
“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.
“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”
“Karma’s a bitch.”
“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.
*****
Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.
He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.
There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”
“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”
Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”
“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.
“Just me.”
“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.
“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”
“Laugh at you?”
“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”
A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.
“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.
And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.
*****
She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.
Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.
Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.
“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.
“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”
Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”
Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”
“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”
“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”
“What-what do you mean?”
“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”
He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”
“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”
“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”
“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”
“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”
“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”
Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.
“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”
She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”
Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”
“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”
“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”
“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”
He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”
“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”
“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”
“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”
“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”
“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.
“And a dog,” Calum corrects.
“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”
“Tell me something.”
“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.
“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”
“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.
“Do you want to answer now?”
“Are you leaving now?”
“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”
“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”
“What if I stay until dawn?”
“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”
“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.
“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.
“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”
“That darlin’ is what I call details.”
“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”
Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”
“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”
“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”
Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.
It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.
“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”
Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”
“The truth,” Freya confirms.
“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”
“That sounds lovely, Calum.”
“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”
“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”
“And if it does.”
“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”
“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.
“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”
“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”
“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”
“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.
“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”
“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”
“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”
“How often did you go between their houses?”
“Every weekend.”
Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”
“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”
Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”
Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.
“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”
“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.
“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.
“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”
“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”
“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.
“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”
“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”
Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”
They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”
“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”
Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”
“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.
“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”
“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”
“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”
Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”
“Someone’s self flagellating.”
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”
“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”
Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”
Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”
“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.
“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”
“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”
“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”
“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”
“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”
Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.
His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”
“Just a little sting.”
Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”
Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”
“Hopeful?”
“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”
He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”
Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”
It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.
Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”
Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears
She’s just gone.
******
When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.
“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”
He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”
Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”
Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”
But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?
Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.
Calum,
I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.
I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.
With Love,
Freya.
P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.
*****
Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.
Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.
There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke
“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”
But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.
Freya,
Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.
I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.
Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.
Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)
With Love,
Cal
Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.
But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.
With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.
There’s silence that engulfs her but it gives no response.
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