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xiubaek-13 · 2 years

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The Busiest Night Manager In Seoul Part 1

Part of the Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa collaboration

Genre: Hotel AU, eventual smut.

Pairing: Night Manager Baekhyun x Hotel Guest Reader

Word Count: 3,932

Warnings: Christmas tree innuendo? Roleplay if you squint. Nothing really for this chapter, its mostly an intro to their characters.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. There will be 3 parts to this short fic. I wanted to break it up a bit rather than drop a 15k monster on all of you.

You checked your booking information one last time before leaving for the airport. You’d gotten ready too early, a trait your mother had ingrained into your subconscious, at least you weren’t as extreme as her - she’d be at the airport 8 hours before the flight boarded, you were only a couple of hours ahead of schedule. Still not quite believing that you were off on an all expenses paid trip to Seoul, you shut the door behind you and rolled your suitcase towards the taxi that had just pulled up in front of your building. When you’d topped the sales board for most insurance policies in your branch last year you had been gifted a $100 voucher for dinner so it had come as a huge surprise that this year instead of a gift voucher, you received an envelope through the internal mailing system that contained a plane ticket, a 5 night hotel booking confirmation and details of a one day meeting that you were to attend on behalf of the company.

After confirming that the trip was indeed real and not some sort of joke you’d looked the hotel up online and it was fancy with a capital F. You just knew you’d look out of place there. The Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa was a top tier, very expensive, luxury hotel. You had this image of all of the guests in their designer clothes, nary a hair out of place. Your personal style did not scream ‘I have lots of money’, not that you cared. You liked your style, it wasn’t bad, it would just stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that.

The hotel had recently been renovated. You’d spent a decent portion of your flight to Seoul reading up on the new and improved Crimson Aurora. They offered a wide range of services, more than you’d seen on any hotel list that you’d stayed at before: 24 hr room service, on-site pool, spa, sauna, gym with personal trainer, yoga sessions, cocktail bar, celebrity chef, top of the line security, tour guides, live music. The list went on. Surely they were offering too much? How many employees did it have? It would have to be a lot to accommodate all of those services.

You were due to arrive late at night, checking in around 11:30pm due to your flight times. You had been given instructions from one of the very helpful receptionists on how to contact the night manager once you arrived so that he could check you in and see you to your room. While the taxi from the airport took you to your destination you rang the number you’d been provided with. After two rings the night manager answered.

“Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa, Night Manager Baekhyun speaking. How may I be of assistance to you this evening?” His voice was soothing, the tone of it comforting. It made you feel like you were speaking to an old friend which kind of startled you.

Pulling your mind from the odd tangent it was headed down Do I know him? Surely not right? But his voice…it feels familiar… “Oh hi, I was told by one of the daytime receptionists to call this number when I was on my way to the hotel. I’m in the taxi from the airport right now.”

“Are you checking in for a stay with us?” He asked.

“Yes. I got stuck with a late flight. Christmas in July and all that. The driver says we’ll be arriving in about 15 minutes. Can you let me in once I arrive so I can check in? I’m sorry to be arriving so late at night.” You apologised. You knew that check in had technically finished hours ago but you’d specially organised the late check in after realising at the airport that your flight was delayed.

“It’s a very busy time for tourists, that's for sure.” He replied, not at all fussed by your late arrival. “Ma’am if you could provide me with your booking reference I’ll have most of the check in process completed by the time you arrive.” He said kindly.

“Ok great. My booking reference is CHS-01004099.” You replied.

“Thank you ma’am. I’m just bringing the booking up now.” He hummed softly as he pulled up your booking information. The sound was pleasant to your ears but was not doing anything to help keep you awake. “You’re going to be spending a week with us. On behalf of Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa I hope you enjoy your stay.” You could hear the smile as he spoke. “Now when you arrive, walk up to the glass doors and press the white button on the left hand door frame. That will notify me of your arrival and I will come out to assist you with your bags and finalise the check in process.” He stated.

You nodded, then realised that duh, you were on the phone so he couldn’t see you, and spoke. “Thank you. See you soon then.” You hung up, stifling a yawn as you made sure you had all of your bags ready for when you pulled up to the hotel.

***

“Ok you are all set,” He smiled warmly at you as he handed you your room key. “I’ll have Jinki, our bellboy, bring your bags up to your room in a moment. You’ll need to use the room key to access floors above the restaurant level, which is level 3. On behalf of the Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa I’d like to welcome you and hope that your stay is everything you wish it to be.” He guided you through the hotel lobby and stood with you while you waited for one of the three elevators to arrive.

You don’t know what you expected the night manager to look like but it sure as well wasn’t what had greeted you when you had arrived. In head to toe black his ash blonde hair stood out almost as much as his incredibly warm smile. He’d greeted you and helped you inside, his ring clad fingers taking your bags from you as you followed him to the reception desk. It had been difficult not to just stare at him, there was no denying that this night manager was handsome. If he’d noticed your lingering gaze on his face and the few too many undone buttons of his shirt, he made no comments about it. Maybe it was the jet lag setting in or maybe it was just him but you continually found yourself stealing glances at him during the entire check in process. Baekhyun had remained a consummate professional so either you weren't staring as much as you thought or he was ignoring it.

He grinned and waved after you stepped into the elevator. "Sleep well. Just call the front desk if anything in your room isn't right." You nodded in thanks, a small smile creeping onto your face.

The bed in the room was so incredibly comfortable that as soon as your head hit the pillow you fell asleep. You didn't even hear the knock at the door when the bellboy arrived with your bags, nor the way he quietly opened the door and placed them just inside before leaving. The long flight coupled with the huge comfortable bed meant that you slept a lot longer than you had planned. You managed to wake up right before breakfast had finished for the day. One hurried shower later you arrived at the restaurant just before the breakfast buffet closed. You’d read about this buffet on the flight over and the way it had been described made it a must on your ever growing list of things to see and experience while you were here.

The review you’d read had been correct, if anything it had undersold on just how unbelievably good the food was. Every single thing that you had off that buffet was delicious to the point that the food was making you mad. Whoever they’d hired as the chef and kitchen staff were worth every cent, possibly more.

Once you finished eating you took yourself on a tour around the hotel grounds, past the gym where you saw a few people taking a class with a very enthusiastic instructor, the pool; manned by a seemingly disinterested pool boy, the massage parlour; which was manned by one overconfident man who winked at you as you wandered by, the yoga studio where a class had just finished, the beautiful gardens and a second restaurant spot. You found your way back to the main area of the hotel and passed through the bar lounge and games area before you came to a stop in the lobby. The hotel was beautiful and whoever had redecorated had done an amazing job. You had read in the information pack that the Kim Kibum (better known in the art world as Key) was the mastermind behind the interior decorating.

The rest of your day was not very busy. You took yourself on a tour around Seoul, taking in all of the sites, doing some shopping and eating some local foods. Tomorrow would be the day of your actual meeting so you worked out the building that you had to go to and the most efficient route between it and the hotel. You went back to your room to look over the schedule for the day as well as key points and topics to be covered. Most of it was boring pseudo sales crap but you made sure to read all of it, not wanting to be under prepared. You are an excellent sales person but you also like to be prepared for these sorts of things, not wanting anyone to surprise you and make you look like a fool.

***

Baekhyun POV

“Yah Junmyeon! When are you gonna hire more staff? I can't keep doing this on my own every single night. There's too many jobs, too many guests and I'm the only one apart from Jinki who works the night shift.” He half whined down the phone at his friend and boss. He was tired. Tired of demanding shifts with little to no thanks. He needed at least one more staff member and one more security officer before his job could become smoother. He also needed the damn bartender and the musician to start already. He was being run ragged and if the issue didn’t resolve itself soon, he’d be in danger of burning out.

Ever since the refurbishment of the hotel Junmyeon had been busy searching for and hiring new staff. He only wanted the best - he had a vision of what his hotel could be and this was his chance to get it right. So far he had hired a world class celebrity chef, an incredibly attractive pool boy, a masseuse who was good at his job but would steal your heart, a flashy bartender and a new musician. However, not all of these hires had commenced work yet. Some were still in mandatory training and others weren’t due to start until August. He couldn’t have pulled this difficult period without his events coordinator who was a true lifesaver almost as much as Baekhyun was. Junmyeon truly didn't know how he would have continued to run the hotel without Baekhyun's help. He was willing to do a shift that no one else wanted to, giving up his nights to cater to the whims of tired, grumpy, drunk and handsy elite guests. He was always available to work, was never sick and Junmyeon was pretty sure he hadn’t had a day off in at least three months. It was something he wanted to change but it would have to wait until after the Christmas in July period because he couldn’t trust anyone else to keep up the charade to children in the night when Santa was concerned.

“Soon Baek, I’m interviewing more candidates today.” He sighed, the pressure to get his staffing issue solved quickly weighing down on him. “I’m doing my best to find more staff to cover the nights and we’ve got others starting next month. We’ve just got to get through July.” Junmyeon couldn’t risk hiring the wrong people so his screening process was lengthy and demanding.

“I know you are hyung. It’s just been a lot this past week. Christmas in July has made my shifts incredibly busy and while I’m amazing, arguably the best night manager there ever was or ever will be, I’m only one man.” He said.

“You know how much I value you Baek. I’m going to find you the staff you need but I can’t rush it. We’ve gotta trust the process.” He paused. “I’ve gotta go, the first candidate for the day has arrived.”

Baekhyun hung up and continued his journey to his room. One of the perks of being Night Manager was a suite on the eastern side of the hotel. His suite was lovely, he’d done his best (much to the chagrin of Key) to make it feel like home. He accepted all of these shifts, as well as the title of Night Manager, because he loved working for the hotel. He considered Junmyeon to be one of his closest friends, he didn’t even mind that his close friend was his boss.

He loved his job, he just wished that he didn't have to wear so many hats at the moment to please the guests that they had. As it was newly refurbished they were trying to bring in new clientele and in order to do that it had to seem like the hotel was fully staffed at all times including the night shift so not only was he night manager but he was everyone else during the hours of 10 until 6. To say that this was exhausting and kind of boring in the beginning was not an understatement but he turned it into a game to keep it interesting for him.

Behind the reception area where no one could see he had a coat rack full of the other uniforms that staff would wear to fulfil their various roles and when it was called for he did a very quick costume change, disappearing and reappearing as someone new. For him the most fun was when he impersonated the staff that weren’t there.

Most of the guests were so full of themselves or the business that they were there for that they didn't really pay much attention to the staff as long as the staff member was good at their job and present so Baekhyun had gotten away with his ruse for quite some time. He had it down to a fine art. Until you. You saw him and he didn’t know how to feel about that. At first he was scared that you’d make a complaint to the hotel about him, but you seemed to enjoy watching him play his many roles. He wasn’t sure why the thought of that thrilled him as much as it did.

It had been quite some time since a guest had stared at him the way you did, as though you were transfixed by him. He was used to people looking through him, just seeing a staff member that they needed for something, which was fine with him, but you looked at him. That first night when you checked in he hadn’t had time to change back into the suit he wore for his main role. He’d been serving drinks at the bar right up until you buzzed the front door. He hadn’t missed the way that your eyes kept drifting to his lips, chest, hands, and thighs. It felt good to be looked at like that, as someone desirable, but he kept quiet about it. He didn’t want to make you embarrassed as he was pretty sure you weren’t aware of how unsubtle you were being after having been in transit for most of the day. He hoped he’d get to know you better during the course of the week.

***

Your POV

After two days at the hotel you’d come to know a few things. 1. During the day, the place was bustling with both guests and staff. 2. At night, it was still bustling with guests but the staff… well the staff seemed to just be Baekhyun and Jinki. 3. Baekhyun denied this vehemently.

The first night after your arrival you headed down to see the Christmas tree in the main lobby and grab a drink at the bar, maybe even listen to the dulcet tones of their newly hired pianist. You saw Baekhyun at the reception desk, giving him a small wave as you passed by. He smiled and waved back as he continued to assist the couple in front of him with directions.

You stood in front of the large tree in awe. You’d never seen a Christmas tree of this magnitude before. It was lit up, well like a Christmas tree, the red and gold baubles accenting the green of the tree beautifully. It was a lot grander than your small tree at home. Granted, yours was a real tree and you had to keep it alive (something you wouldn’t say you were excelling at but the thing wasn’t dead).

“I’ll give you a drink voucher if you can spot my favourite decoration.” His voice startled you. You turned to your left and found Baekhyun grinning as he stood next to you. “Sorry, I thought you’d have heard me walking over. You must have really been immersed in the tree.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never seen one this big before.” He laughed. “It’s huge! Who has a Christmas tree that’s at least three storeys high and isn’t amazed by it?!”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to it. I see it every day so its size doesn’t distract me.” He fought the urge to wink as he spoke. “Anyway, my offer for a drink voucher stands. You just have to find my favourite decoration. I’ll give you one chance per day.” The distinct ring of the bell at the front desk sounded and he sighed. “I’ll be back. Go get up close and personal with it.”

Not one to pass up a free anything, you moved closer to the tree as Baekhyun went about doing his job. At first glance you’d only focused on the red and gold baubles but the longer you looked, the more decorations you noticed. There were ornaments spread across the entire tree. You spotted a candy cane, a nutcracker, various glittery pine cones, some snowmen, some varied Santa ornaments, and angel or two, a range of coloured balls with odd symbols on them, random animals with vaguely Christmas themed objects; like the corgi with a snowglobe.

You decided to pick the European gnome style Santa ornament, with his hat covering all of his face except for his nose and beard but when you turned around, Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen. You decided to go to the bar, figuring you’d see him on your way back to the elevator when you were ready to return to your room for the night.

***

“Why are you everywhere?” You asked, pointedly.

The bartender, who was without a shadow of a doubt, Baekhyun replied. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You served me a drink then disappeared, only to suddenly be over at the piano accompanying the jazz singer who’s here tonight, and now you’re back serving drinks.”

“You’re mistaken.” He gestured to the tag on his shirt. “I’m Taemin, as you can see from my name badge and the pianist is Chanyeol. We’ve got similar hairstyles so I could understand why you might confuse the two of us.” He pointed at his attire. “But as you can see, I’m wearing completely different clothing. Maybe you need your eyes checked. We staff aren’t all the same, you know.” He smirked as he shook a cocktail for another guest, expertly adding little flourishes as he worked. You were not convinced. This man tending the bar, as far as you were concerned, was Baekhyun and he was doing a terrible job of convincing you otherwise. Maybe the other guests didn’t notice him the way you did but you had memorised the features of his face, and apparently some other features as well.

You leant forward on the bar counter. “You both look alarmingly similar to the night manager…”

He chuckled as he shook his head at you in disbelief. “So our CEO has a type. How is that our fault?”

“Baekhyun…” You started.

He tutted at you as he moved to stand directly in front of you, only the bar counter separating the two of you. “I might have to cut you off little lady, I just said my name was Taemin. How could you get that so wrong?” He tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. It felt like a challenge, one you were willing to play along with for now.

“My apologies, er Taemin was it?” He nodded, happy that you were playing along. “Your drinks must be stronger than I anticipated. You see I was talking with the aforementioned Night Manager before I came in here. He offered me a free drink voucher if I could guess his favourite decoration on the Christmas tree.”

He leant forward on the bar, his closeness almost distracting you. “Did you guess correctly?” He asked, a knowing smile forming on his face.

You shook your head, pouting. “No. He was nowhere to be seen when I was ready to make my first guess.”

“Ah, he is a busy man.” Not-Baekhyun offered. “I’m sure you’ll see him before you return to your room.

You sighed. “True, but I wanted to make my guess. I really stared at that huge, girthy tree for so long and got so close to it to inspect all of the details.”

He cleared his throat. “Now I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe the Christmas tree like that before.”

Before you could continue your innuendo another guest arrived at the bar which demanded Not-Baekhyun’s attention. He offered you a slight shrug as he turned to focus on the guest’s order. You couldn’t say that you minded though, you enjoyed watching him tend the bar. He was remarkably good at it, flipping bottles and providing easy banter. You weren’t sure why he was pretending to be someone else, changing his shirt, jacket and sometimes his hair wasn’t enough to fool you. Clearly it worked for the other guests as you’d spotted quite a few people who you’d seen speaking with him at the front desk not even take a second glance at him as they ordered their drinks.

The whole bit with the size of the tree? You’d picked up on his suggestive yet playful tone when he’d first mentioned it. You were here for a few more days and there was absolutely no harm in flirting with the very attractive man who seemed to be doing everyone’s jobs. He seemed interested so even if nothing came of it, you could both have your fun until you left.

As you sipped your drink, a devious little plan formed in your mind. One that would achieve a few goals for you. It would catch him out on pretending to be others and explore the extent of the wardrobe options he had on hand. If it went really well, then you both just might get to have a very Merry Christmas…in July.

Part 2

A/N: Thanks for reading and enjoying this collab. Please don’t forget to check the other writers out @myeoning-call @leewalberg @yourkeeperoftherunners @taem-min @ouvuo @dreamylittlesugarcube @jxstadaydreamer and @sojuri

#exo fic #baekhyun fic #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #exo imagine #exo scenario #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun scenario #exo smut #baekhyun smut #crimson aurora hotel collab

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chiyoso · 9 months

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hira hira hira !!! hello !!! i wanted to greet once again a happy birthday (if it's still september first) and i hope you had fun when you were outside! i hope you spent your day happily and filled with gifts and love by the people who adore you <3

*rubs hands and clears throat* i now shall state my purpose of being back here again. please be warned about my idea, i think it's kind of triggering

i just wanna see a brainrot of mine be known by other people, and by that i mean [name] being pathetically in love with scaramouche that she lets herself be trampled over, be ridiculed, be the second choice, be out casted, be hated, be used as a mere plaything, be willingly manipulated, be the one always taking the blame until they just break down in tears, wondering what they did wrong that scaramouche wouldn't even look their way (inspired by what i feel what the song is about — i know you by faye webster)

yes, hira, i am perfectly fine, no need to worry about me :3 yes, hira, i don't mind with this mail not being posted !!! and yes, hira, i won't mind that you'll delete this if this made you uncomfy !! i hope you have a nice day, and always stay safe and happy !!!! mwa :3

JIJI — lovely, what a warm welcome (i just got home a few mins ago)

honestly, you've come to the right place, i love reading and writing dark content — and it may be hard to believe, but the things you mentioned in your idea? my little 15-17 years old self experienced it, not to mentio- i'll give you a small little rant about my ex in the past, perhaps to give you ideas in the process as well! (and yes, you can absolutely discuss things like this with me, i told you lovely, i'm absolutely open minded with anything and i tend to have a level headed/calm and open response, even with a taboo subject) without further ado

TW: HEAVY TOPICS, LONG READ, HIRAETH'S RELATIONSHIP LORE UNDER CUT

here, my naive 15 year old idled about in life with suicidal and depressed tendencies. dull, overworked and exhausted, in result of having to perform in plenty of stages that involved my skills as a musician. don't get me wrong, performing itself was great, taking the center stage with my other young performers, receiving gifts after — all was good in that aspect. but the negative began to seed, based off my desires to love or be enticed with the ideas of love, being cared for, being cherished. a busy life became dull, and the bullying i received from my classmates, teachers standing by — my world had dulled, causing me to drop out ultimately. i wanted to be cared for, a voice kept repeating inside my head. familial love in my eyes heavily differed to the love i craved subconsciously.

unfortunately for me, i was too observant, too keen, too aware. aware of my negative surroundings, growing negativity, my growing desire for love, but the world had continued to fail me continuously at the time, until i had enough, until i grew exhausted to the point where i wanted to — well, dying isnt really the best word, but i just wanted to live another life, i wanted to rest, i wanted to sleep endlessly.

and then.

three days. three days before i took action to cease my life, a game piqued my interest (knights chronicle) i was honestly in total auto mode, decisions weren't 100%, you could say i was mindlessly making decisions, my subconscious protecting me in its own way by distracting me with this "game" i impulsively downloaded.

skipping, i met him.

my ex. i had a persona on of course, to hide my abyss. i was a flirt, i was confident, i was who i write today on my fictions. this sudden persona? i have analyzed myself back then, and i've come to a conclusion that it was a persona manifested by desperation, absolute desperation to — yup, that's right, my rooted, inner desires, to love.

oh, i endeared ppl in that public chat — but i dont genuinely know what the fuck compelled me to my ex, but it was a force even i was unaware of why i felt a pull towards him, i still cant answer that myself. i flirted nonstop towards him specifically, relentless i was, desperate i was, but then it happened, i jokingly plugged in my instagram handle in chat — but he, he fucking remembered it, MESSAGED me, causing to stir hidden, brewing emotions, unaware that this simple, yet impactful act, would be my demise until feb-march of 2023.

oh it was lovely at first, i fell "in love" immediately. (nnh im cringing) and i let him know it, but it was one sided at first. i was heartstruck, lovestruck — no, lovesick. and this feeling dissipated any intention of suiciding. he was my savior, he was a savior in my eyes. shit, i was hopelessly... hopeless. shunning my family out, everyone, even my friends, fuck, and it was still one sided after a few months of friendship with him.

but since he voiced out ever so clearly, that he wasn't ready yet

my feelings wavered of course, and this carnal desire to be loved was immense, so, naturally, the husk of me sought out other attention, and i met someone online (imvu), he was sweet, a connection established, things were good — or... so i thought as i was blocked the next day. i was so desperate, so fucking naive and desperate that i went through his friends list and messaged a random friend. oh i was hopeless, so damn hopeless. but the guy unblocked me momentarily, i sought out closure, he reassured, and then just when i thought things were good again, he blocked me, once more. and our last messages together were "goodnight" to each other.

but this encounter with him?

i voiced this whole thing to my ex, and

at that day, at the same time, he confessed his feelings.

quite the coincidence, is it not?

so in my desperate state of self, i grew to love him as intensely, more than before. and things were good, at least for a few months.

relationships, of course, we had to show our "comfortable sides" eventually, no? and that we did. we were... different, too different, the opposite, fuck i cannot- i do not know where to begin. views, political views, the world, our interests, all was different, he was more difficult than i thought, more different, opening a world of new negativity within me, but guess what, i was still hopelessly and naively in love.

later.

all would come crashing down, one topic led to another, then another, until it became an argument, and he would later reveal that he merely saw this relationship — as a companionship. a companionship. not even a relationship. oh! oh! he stated that he viewed me as a puppy, a dog, and he was a master, CARING for the dog. a "conpanionship." by the way, in later, much later events, we would have multiple arguments about me expressing about the past, and if i bring this shit up, he would go

"not again, grace. i thought we were already done with the past, the past is done and i've already apologized"

"not again..."

"can you.... not bring the word (companionship) up? it traumatizes me grace..."

something along those lines. anyhow.

oh, ill indulge you, the moment he tried to leave me the first time — i begged, begged endlessly, crying, choking sobs, worrying my family. he stayed... because... i don't know? did he want us to work? did he pity me? did he love me? did he- yeah i dont know and ive long forgotten.

much, much later, we would have the worse arguments ever, until the rainbows, the sunshines and the good times were buried with our impactful arguments. i will admit, if we werent arguing, all was... fine. not dull. fine.

but shit, our arguments, i would be like this;

H: "PLEASE please... please... please don't leave me, dont leave me dont leave me dont leave me... please... i just- i just need reassurance... reassurance, its all i need, please...."

two ways, he complies because i need to fucking guide him since he cant come up or initiate his own, or he fucking goes away and gets burnt out and needs to leave the "argument"

i was BEGGING for the bare minimum. just- just if you've seen nat's recent scaramouche fic, our relationship was like that, but much more heavier, much more... i dont know.

RIGHT. AND WHEN I HAD ENOUGH AND WANTED TO LEAVE, HE WOULD FUCKING FOLD. HE WOULD THREATEN TO KILL HIMSELF. ?????????¿???2?!2?2!?21!1?

we broke up many times, and got back together many times. it was a cycle, a cycle of hell that i endured for 5 years. not to mention, HE was the one who brought up not having feelinge for him anymore, HE was the one who said he will change, he will end this cycle.

(i also could send ss in your asks if you wish, i dont really mind)

"grace, you're a hypocrite for wanting revenge!"

"this is so toxic..." (him referring to my expressing and begging for the bare minimum)

"please dont tell me im doing the bare minimum" - him, again

i believe im being biased, but nothing can quell the hidden hatred and anger i've developed from being with him lmao

oh when i initiated the breakup talk (again) this year, he beat me first to it, to utter the words. and you wanna know what he said blatantly?

"yeah i... im just scared of it coming from you"

BEAT ME TO IT BECAUSE HE FEARS THE REALITY OF ME FINALLY BEING DONE

and yes, i do not deny the hardwork, the good times, but it is all buried underneath the fucking trauma he induced lmao, the shitty arguments, the emotional trauma, he was so emotionally unintelligent.

and guess. fucking. what.

he started to do the shit ive begged for AFTER i was finally done with him, which was just a few months ago of our officially, official breakup. playing valorant after expressing not wanting to play it, calling it a trash game, playing genshin now but before he found it so utterly boring, and SO FUCKING ON.

ahem. this is just 12% of the contents in my relationship previously, im just shortcutting things because this reply is getting longer than i thought...

genuinely sorry for the vent lore 😭 but i hope this experience of mine helps you in your writing and especially dolly 🫶

#💌 mailed to hiraeth #💌|·❍✧⃝·° H's recipient: ciarchivez

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eddie-van-munson · 2 years

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Ok I just had this thought and I’m writing this out during a sleepover!

Eddie Munson who participates in a campaign run by some girl (the reader) who lives on the other side of the country and runs the campaign through radio. Eventually reader has to postpone the campaign because she’s moving to Hawkins!

Eddie and reader finally meet face to face and god he is enamored just at the sight of her and of course the hellfire boys don’t believe that A: He’s been participating in a campaign and B: He likes a girl!?

Alright! I changed it just a teeny tiny bit, but I'm hoping this is what you were wanting! I'm sorry if I misunderstood! I do think it turned out super cute, though!

Warnings: Cursing, Spicy Kisses, Implied Sex, She/Her Pronouns

***********

-Eddie's brain is going at a million miles a minute because today is the DAY

-Y/N L/N is coming to Hellfire.

-You're Dustin's cousin, and Eddie was skeptical when he'd first walked into the drama room to see a huge ass radio sitting beside the Hellfire table.

-But Dustin insisted he give it a go and play one radio campaign with his cousin because 'she's a legend'.

-That may or may not have made Eddie a little jealous.

- Anyway

-The radio campaign you'd written to do with Hellfire was fucking AMAZING.

-Eddie was in AWE over this campaign, guys.

-He stayed after to talk to you over the radio and ask you a million questions about it.

-So, you became an honorary member of Hellfire. Dustin started setting up the radio every week so you could play along with the boys.

-Eddie even gave Dustin a shirt to mail to you.

-Last week in Hellfire, the boys were all sitting around and Dustin dropped the bomb that you're coming into town next week!?!?! And you want to see their campaign!?!?!?

-Eddie was frantic

-"Are you kidding, Henderson!?! You should've told me weeks ago!! Now I have a fucking week to write the best campaign of my life!!!"

-Eddie has such an obvious crush on you but he would never NEVER admit it

-It's pretty pathetic. He goes beet red every time.

-"What!?!?! Noooooo. Nooo Why would I??? I've never even seen this chick!!! This girl!!! How could I??? What!? Noooooo."

-Eddie has worked on this campaign tirelessly

-Because it has to be PERFECT

- And today's the day

-He's so fucking nervous guys he's never like this about girls

-He showers the night before?? Like he actually showers!! And he does his hair as best as he can and washes his Hellfire shirt for the first time!!

-And he's still nervous but he's feeling a little more confident now, ya know? Like, he's lookin' good! His curls are fluffy and clean and he smells good!!

-He's ten minutes late for Hellfire, which never happens, but it's just because he's so nervous

-When he finally shows up be doesn't see you at first. He just sees all the boys crowded around. But oh my god, it's like something out of a movie.

-He hears this sweet, gorgeous voice...

-"Eddie?"

-And the red sea of Freshmen parts to reveal you

-And holy fucking shit you're gorgeous

-Your hair is just...and your eyes are like...god and your lips are so...

-You're perfect

-He wants to run up and hug you but he's not sure if he should?? So he just kind of sits there with his eyes big

-"Y/N?" His voice cracks, like, really bad.

-But you're so sweet!! You just giggle and run over and give him the biggest, tightest hug.

-He hugs you right back and he lifts your feet off the ground and gives you a little spin.

-You're holding the lapels of his jacket when you pull back to look at him, "Look at you!! You're so handsome!!"

-Eddie 100% thinks he's going to black out when he hears that. He's so handsome?

-You ruffle his freshly washed curls, "And you smell so good! Like green apples!!"

-Now he's sure he's got to be dreaming.

-He stutters for a moment, just fighting for his life to put a sentence together.

-"Eddie wrote a whole new campaign just for your visit!" Dustin jumps in to save him.

-Your eyes go wide, "Oh, Eds! Did you!?"

-He just grins and nods, god bless him.

-The campaign goes really well and oh my god, Eddie feels like a king on his throne. He's cocky as shit. He's never had so much fun playing DM in his life.

-After the campaign Dustin tells you his mom is here to pick you up.

-"Oh, I was going to help clean up! Eddie, do you think if I stayed a little later you could walk me home?"

-He just nods dumbly it's so cute.

-So now it's just you and him, and it's so quiet as you pick up the pieces left of the game.

-Finally Eddie just blurts out.

-"Do you really think I'm handsome?"

-You smile softly, blushing. "I do."

-He grins, hiding his own blush, and pumps his fist a little. You giggle.

-"Eddie?" He hums, meeting your eyes again. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

-His ears are on fire. He sets his book down, "I...I think you're perfect."

-The air is tense and thick and god you're literally everything he could have ever wanted.

-And something deep in his chest gives him the twenty seconds of insane courage he needs to walk over to you, hold your face in his hands and kiss you like it's his last day on earth. Like he's the hero in his own movie.

-He kisses you just once before pulling back to look at your face. To see if he's fucked everything up.

-And your expression is unreadable. Your eyes are big and your lips are parted with shock.

-His stomach flips, filling with instant regret. "Shit...Shit. Shit. Shit. Christ, I'm so sorry. I totally misread that didn't I? God, I'm so sorry. I just-"

-You cut him off, tugging his shirt to pull him down against your lips again.

-He gives an almost relieved sounding moan against you and kisses you back so desperately, and you feel like you must've died because there's no way heaven can get better than this.

-Your hands lace in his hair, giving it a tug, and the sound he makes will be burnt into your brain forever. God it's so hot.

-He backs you against the Hellfire table, hooking his arms under your knees to lift you up onto it. You're at the perfect height now, and his hands feel warm and big as they glide up your thighs.

-You don't notice the door open. Hell, you don't even notice anyone is there until Dustin yells, "Guys!"

-You jump apart from one another, Eddie smoothing his hair quickly as you adjust your skirt where it's ridden up. You can't even look at one another, much less make eye contact with Dustin.

-He walks further into the room, grabbing his stuff, "I forgot my backpack, you animals."

-He's almost out the door when he calls out, "Maybe lock the door next time, sickos."

-Eddie sprints over to lock the door as you jump back up onto the Hellfire table, and he's on you again before Dustin even makes it back out to the car.

***********

#eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie imagine #eddie imagines #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munsen x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munsen #eddie munsen imagine

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my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife · 2 years

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One more drink X. - Pierre Gasly series

Okay so first I would like to say thank you. I have never thought that you guys will like this story that much 🥹

And I wanted to post this one later but I got above 100 notes on the Mastelist and it made me sooo happy so I thought I will upload this one faster especially because it’s been sitting in my draft. ☺️🖤

So thank you once again and I wish you guys to have a wonderful day ♥ You guys can know a little of me during this story because I cannot separate myself from it that much, so while you are reading this you can get a little know of me what can be my passion :) Just like the band that is on this one. They are incredible, and I would like to rembember one of the best nights that I have had not a long ago remembering HIM. 🖤👣Boldog születésnapot Te Csoda, kibaszottul hiányzol (x) (x) 🖤👣

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warning: swearing, language, mention of depression, alcohol usage, smut

If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know 🥹

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— Previous part — —Next part —

I was fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as I was waiting in his hotel room. I don’t know if it was the best idea that I have made a little lie to him about that I can’t come this weekend, even that I have already planned everything with his personal trainer Pyry to surprise him on the race weekend in the Netherlands. He was really lovely and helped me with everything, I booked the plane ticket, he helped me with the taxi and also got a spare room key for me at the reception so I can hide in here.

His trainer sent me a message that they have just left the track and they are on their way back to the hotel. That was 20 minutes ago, so they can arrive in any minute. I was sitting on the armchair at the dark room, listening carefully every noise that came from the hallway. When the front door made a silent clicking noise I got stiff and hold my breath. He turned on the lights at the entrance of his room as he was taking of his shoes and jacket. With a big sigh he walked in the room looking at his phone texting. I was trying not to make any noise waiting for him when he will realise I’m in the room. He was walking to the coffee table but stumble over my luggage with a long French curse he steadied himself and looked at the luggage confused. I tried my best not to start giggling as he was studying my bag and stepped back from it.

“The fuck…I’m sure I put my luggage in the wardrobe.” He walked to his closet and I got up from the armchair and sneaked behind the door.

“That’s not yours.” I whispered and he jumped back in his surprise slamming the closet’s door and yelled throwing his phone away. “Hey babe.” I smiled at him childishly as he was looking at me with huge surprised eyes and his mouth open while his hand were on his chest.

“What the fuck!”

“Surprise” I raised both of my arm in the air with a wide smile on my lips. He grabbed me by my waist and slammed me on his body hugging me tight.

“Jesus Gina, you scared the shit out of me. “

“That was my whole point” I giggled and hugged him back. “You said that my pinky is your lucky charm, and it would be morbid to send my pinky via mail so I brought the rest of my body too.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Pyry” I smiled up on him

“Oh that fucker. That’s why he was acting weird the whole afternoon.” He cupped my cheeks in his palm and pulled me closer to him and kiss my lips. “I have missed you”

"Me too." I smiled in the kiss and stepped away from his embrace. "I have planned everything, I'm sitting in that armchair in the corner in the past twenty minutes waiting for you. You can walk pretty slow buddy."

"I was texting and calling you in the past half an hour, wondering why are you not answering when you are not even working." He was shaking his head with a smile. "I was about to change before the dinner with the guys, if you want I can call it off so we can have a dinner just the two of us...."

"No, it's okay! We can have the dinner with the guys." I smiled and picked my bag up from the bed. " Change and we can go." He nodded and disappeared in the bathroom.

—————————

"Gina! Hey!" Carlos jumped up from his seat and pulled me in a thight hug, when we stepped next to the table. Most of the drivers were sitting there alone or with their girl friends on their side.

"What are you doing here? Pierre did not mention that you will come." Charles got up too and hugged me.

"Because I did not know about it, she was sitting in the corner of my room like a creep." Pierre joked as he took a seat next to Charles and Charlotte, and I sat down next to him with Mick on my other side.

"You should have seen his face when he kicked my luggage, and oh god when he jumped back screaming when he heard my voice." I giggled and he nodged my side with his elbow. The guys were loudly chatting at the table while having a dinner, and after everyone moved around in the seat so can be easier to talk with the other person and not shouting from one side to the other. I sat closer to the Kelly and Charlotte so I can join in to their converstaion.

"So Gina, do you have any siblings back at home?"Kelly asked as she was playing with the straw in here drink.

"Yes I have three brothers . "

"Oh that's nice, so a big family. What about your parents are they helping with the bar too?" I got stiff and the smile on my face froze. The table was quiet everyone was looking at my way waiting for my answer. I cleared my troath before I started to speak.

"I.. uh... they are not. My dad passed away a long time ago.. and I don't know much about my mum..." I looked at my hand as I was playing with my fingers.

"Gosh I'm sorry that was really innapropriate to ask from me."Kelly started to apologise but I just looked up let a small smile on my face and waved it off.

"No worries, you had no idea. But if you excuse me.."I smiled at the group and stood up and walked out of the restaurant to the balcony.

I was looking at the street below the balcony, watching the whole street moving around cars honking here and there a few times. It was still busy.

"Amour..."

"Hey" I smiled as I turned my face to his way and seeing him standing in the door waiting. "I will be back in a minute there."

"I don't know if I should say I'm sorry because I know it won't really help... But if you want to talk about it I'm here for you, you know that right?"

"You have had no idea, so it's okay. I was sixteen when it happened. We don't really talk about it at home a lot. He was pretty sick, he had a brain tumor that the doctors could not help with the many surgeries he have had. I spent all my time with him in the hospital, if I was not in school. We can say I was always a Daddy's princess." I smiled up at him and tried to swallow the big lump in my throath. "At that time was when our mum left. I have only seen her at the funeral, I don't really know a lot about her. She lives somewhere back at home with her boyfriend. We are not really on speaking terms. After dad's passing we have had to sell our house because we could not pay out this medical bills. So everything we have now we built it up from the ground. We worked our asses off for it, I worked at two jobs while I was in university, the guys too. " I leaned back at the railing as I was staring into his eyes. He was quietly studying my face when I finished my monologe and took a step closer and pulled me in a hug.

"Oh Gina..." He whispered

"That is why I was acting a kind of weird when I met your mum. I wanted to have the best first expression knowing how important is she for you. But I don't know how to act with mothers. Becuase mine was not the best example..." I stepped back and wiped the single tear down from my cheek.

"She loves you. You had made the best expression." He assured me as he was caressing my upper arm. "Do you want to go back to the room or?"

"I don't want Kelly to feel more emberassed so we should go back to them. But I think I will go back to the room soon." I smiled at him and pulled him inside with me.

————————-

The dutch free practice was not going the way that Pierre has imagined. He was really frustrated even if they have expected that the dutch track is not their fild. He got out of the car pretty heated and went straight into his driver's room.

"Should I go after him?" I asked Pyry as he was sitting next to me in the garage. I was about to jump off the stool when Fabiana stepped in front of me with a serious look on her face. "Hi Fabiana, if you are looking for Pierre he just went into his room." I pointed at the room as I was smiling at her.

"I was actually looking for you." She started it, with a cold tone in her voice." We have some problems. I mean you two have some problems with the media..."

"Oh and what would it be?"

"Some fans saw you two on the balcony yesterday night." I was staring at here with a blank expression as the air got stuck in my throath. "They are already talking about it, because your figure can be perfectly seen." She held up her phone showing me the picture. It was taking when I went out in the balcony and one when we were talking and the last one was when we hugged eachother. "PR team is fuming now..."

"Shit... I mean I'm sorry I was not thinking.... Does he know about it? Because he is pretty frustrated now.." She just shook her head. "Should I be the one who have to tell him?"

"Yes, and try to find a solution for it so this won't happen in the weekend,..." She patted me on the shoulder and left without another word. I walked closer to his room with a big sigh, and waited and listen if I can hear something from the motorhome but it was quiet. I opened the door and stepped in but a glove just flew next to my head hitting the door's frame. "Hey." I whispered waiting for him to turn my way. "Can I come in?"

"Sure" He answered shortly still staring at his time table on the wall. I stepped in and closed the door behind me." I don't understand, how can he be faster then me when we have the same car?" He started after a long pause. "What's going on with you, you are really white..."

"Uh.. Fabiana had some words with me and you won't be happy about it. But I don't want to make it worse for you..."

"Just say it"

"Some fans saw us yesterday on the balcony and pictures are going around. And PR is not happy, because I can be seen well on the picture and there are rumours going around on the internet about you.. I'm sorry, I should not have come to the race. It was stupid move from me, because you asked me to lay low in the upcoming weeks..."

"Gina, you did nothing wrong..." he got up from the couch and grabbed both of my hands. “We are in this together, okay? I will talk to PR about it, and they will calm down. “

“Okay” I let out a small smile and kissed his cheeks. “You have some interviews to finish, you should change.” I caressed his cheeks and he turned his head to kiss my palm.

“Are you gonna help me to undress?” He smiled mischievously and started to play wit the hem of my shirt.

“I don’t want to piss off Fabiana more.” I swatted his hands away giggling. He just rolled his eyes before started to zip down his racing suite. “ I always thought you look so hot when you roll your suit down to your waist.” I mumbled as watching him and he was just laughing. “ I’ll wait outside better for the both of us but mostly for me.” I slipped out from the room with my blushing cheeks, but I could still hear his laughing.

——————————

“Are you gonna go home after the race?” We we’re currently laying in our room watching some kind of talk-show on the tv while we were eating our room service.

“Yea I have concert to go. We have bought the tickets for it month ago with the guys and with the girls.” I answered as I was munching on the salad in my lap.

“What kind of concert, I might want to come.” I nearly choked on my salad and I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “What?”

“Honey, believe me this won’t be your concert.”

“Why? Just because it’s Hungarian?”

“No, because it’s metal.” I laughed at his expression

“You listen metal?”

“Have you looked at my brothers? Especially Peti, that dude looks like he got out from a metal store.” I was referring to my older brother’s look, he usually wears a band t-shirt his favourite black boots. ”What were you thinking about what type of music did we played with the guys?” I giggled as I put back the empty dish on the kart. “I can’t sing full metal songs but we used to play rock songs. But if you want to, you are welcome. I just don’t know if you would enjoy it.”

“Now I definitely want to come!” I was watching him with an amused smile as he was already searching for a ticket on the event’s page.

“Oh..” he stated when he saw the really mixed dressed group in front of the entrance.

“Just look at us too.” I laughed as I was pointing at our group. You could see my brothers in the band’s merch dressed up full on black, I was having on one of there merch pullover while Pierre was having on a Alpha Tauri shirt with a dark blue trousers. But in the crowd you can see someone in a fancy shirt next to a full rockers. “But everyone in here is nice, no one cares about where you come. We are here to have fun and to remember him.” I pointed at the poster next to the entrance. “He passed away last year, out of nowhere, he was battling with leukaemia and today would be his 31th birthday. “ I explained him as we walked in. “Okay for your information, the guys will probably disappear in the mosh pit. But that’s not really my thing and nor the girls so we will stand on the side.” I pointed at the venue’s right side.

I have been a few concerts from them, even when Örs there lead singer was alive and to be in a concert when he is not here was different but the guys still delivered the best show.

“Hey French man!” Roxy slapped on his shoulder as they have arrived. “Are you ready to see what this girl can do a concert like this?” She was pointing at me with a huge smile. “Aw you look scared buddy.”

“I am because I don’t know what to expect.” He let out a small chuckle as he was holding on his beer.

“The best show ever. Come on!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the crowd. He looked back at me with a frightened expression on his face which I just reacted with a laugh.

I can say that I have never imagine that Pierre Gasly, the king of clubbing will be jumping around in a metal concert. I was screaming and shouting and dancing around with my friends and brothers in the crowd at some point he grabbed me hand and we were jumping around while we held hands together. He had no idea what was the lyrics but he seemed like he had just as much fun as we have had.

“Jesus, I have never thought that I will go to a concert like this and I will enjoy it” he was panting as the concert has ended. All of us were sweaty and tired and had a raspy voice due to all the screaming. “You guys can be crazy.” He was pointing at my best friends and me.

“Welcome to the dark side honey.” I wrapped my arm around his waist as he pulled me closer to his figure.

“I have never seen a sexier thing you screaming and having a blast. It made me remember a certain moment.” He leaned closer to my ear and whispered. Blush creeped up on my face and I hid my face in my free hand trying to somehow hide the blush from the others.

We said goodbye to the others from the group and walked back hand in hand to the way of my car. We parked close to the venue so we could reach the car quickly.

“Thank you for coming.” I looked at his was when we got in the car.

“I have to thank you. I really had fun. I mean this genre won’t be my new favourite but it was good to let some steam out. “ he had a genuine smile on his lips and slid his palm on my thigh. I was a really happy person that evening. I had a blast and he was enjoying it too. “I have a question for you. I mean it’s more like a proposal.” He rubbed his index finger on my thigh, and I snapped my head to his way.”No I mean, not like that.” He scoffed with a small laugh “ I mean, I have talked with your brothers. And surprisingly none of them wanted to kill me. "He joked and I just shook my head with a small smile" And next week will be Monza. That one is a important race for me since 2020. And I would love to have you there, but I know you have to work. Sooo here is the thing. Your brothers will cover the week for you, they insisted to tell you that it was their idea, they said that you have worked your pretty little ass for years and you should enjoy some free time too. So what do you say, wanna come to Monza with me, we can stay at my place in Milan for the first half, I can show you around we can spend some time together. “ He was studying my face as we stopped at the red light, and I was just staring at him.

“My brother’s went in with this without any problems?”

“Yes, why? Is that a bad thing?” He was concerned about the way I have acted.

“Oh no szívem my heart. It’s a huge thing. It means that they are trusting in you.” My voice broke at the and of the sentence. The thing is that with Belgium and with Netherlands I have had to convince my brothers for hours with the help of the girls. They are extremely protective. I’m there little sister, the last thing they want me to get hurt and that’s okay but sometimes they can really push it to the limit. And fall into being way too overprotective.

“So can you pack your bag when we get back to your place so we can head to the airport?”

“Tonight? It’s nearly 11pm. There are no flights now.”

“Babe, we are going with my private jet” he giggled “and I’m sorry sweety but that torture bench you call a bed back at yours is terrible. I would rather sleep in my own bed.”

“Oh shush…. You can sleep on the floor next time if you are not liking my bed.” I rolled my eyes as I was tapping on the steering wheel.

“I would rather fuck you in my own bed too. Or on the plane.” His finger got much closer to the crotch of my black jeans and the air got stuck in my throat. “Wanna get into the mile high club?” He was wiggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin.

“I guess you are already a club member on that one.”

“I can help you get in there.” He winked at me and got out of the car as soon as we parked. He jogged to my side and opened the door. “So what do you say? Can I order a taxi to come?”

“Yes, just give me like half an hour.” I sighed and looked up at him. He grabbed both sides of my face and slammed his lips on mine.

"I have a one thing to ask from you as well" I started quietly as we were sitting on the airport waiting for the jet to arrive. I was holding a cup of tea in my takeaway cup swirling the warm drink in it around.

"You can ask whatever you want honey." He smiled at me pulling his sight away from his phone's screen.

"Okay so, Roxy has been in my ass about it to ask you. I know that after Monza you guys don't have a race for a a few weeks. And I also know that you have a thight scedhule and probably you have some event for that day. And don't let me even start on that there will be pictures taken and you cannot be seen with me. Oh gosh what was I even thinking." I was rambling really fast, before Pierre grabbed my chin and forced me to look in his eyes.

"Amour, stop rambling. And just ask me" He had a warm smile on his lips.

"Okay.. So would you like to be my partner at Roxy's wedding?"

"I thought you would never ask, I would love to be your partner." He whispered on my lips before kissing me softly. I sighed on his lips and let my sholder relax. "Also I would like to let you know that I have talked with PR. And...." He did not finished his sentence when my phone pinged popping a notification up on the screen.

@ pierregasly added to their story.

I looked back up at him with furrowing my brows and picked my phone up and checked the notification.

"What have you done now?" I asked him as I was waiting for the story to load.

"Showing everyone that I have had an amazing night with someone special." He whispered in my ear and kissed my neck.

🕊🖤👣 In loving memory of Siklósi Örs 👣🖤🕊

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caroline18mars · 2 months

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A Man On Fire - Chapter 85

Morning came all too soon, neither had slept a wink, their frantic lovemaking lasted until an hour ago, both of them not wanting their time together to end, “I don’t want to let you go” he pushed a tired kiss on the top of her head “it feels like we’re at crossroads again, I’ve only just found you again” his warm breath whispering against her head sent chills down her spine, I don’t want you to leave and I don’t want to leave this bed, I don’t want to leave you. Just jump on that plane to Australia with him and forget about your family, but he actually sealed her fate “but I understand you need to sort this out with your family and you know what they say ‘longing makes the heart grow fonder’ even though I don’t know if that is even possible” his lips curled into a sad smile, he so didn’t want to get up but her plane was leaving in a few hours. “Join me in the shower?” he growled letting go of her and sat up to push himself off the bed, why did he suddenly feel like he was 100 years old? Easy, because she kept him young. “Why don’t you go get a hot shower started, I’ll be right there” she pushed a kiss on his shoulders and grabbed her phone, 10 missed calls, all from Arno..hopefully they changed their mind, I don’t want to go..but I have to..get this sorted, the sooner I can leave this behind me, the sooner I can be with Jared again. Their bodies connected once again under the hot water with every last bit of passion they had in them, both of them not knowing when the next time would be, the only thing they knew was that it was gonna take a while and neither of them was one bit happy about that.//One last kiss and one final bear hug leaving her perfume to still dance in his nose and the firm promise to call him when she had landed, before the big steel bird had taken her away from him, he had never seen her so nervous and desperate, how would he even get through the days without her when he couldn’t even get through hours? His own phone bleeped him out of his train of thought, duty called, but he couldn’t care less. The only name on his mind was hers.

New York was cold and dreary, getting into the waiting cab, a whiff of his perfume drifted up to her, god I miss you Jared, why did I ever think this would be a good idea?

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: back in the concrete jungle

Hello lover,

I miss you, more than I could ever say, this all seems so pointless without you. What am I even doing here?

Yours forever (if you let me)

Harper

Jared was finishing up packing his last bag when he felt the faint buzz of an e-mail, please let this be her..yes it was, his fingers stumbled over the screen

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re:back in the concrete jungle

Hello sweetie,

So glad you made it safe back to the Big Apple, you’re there so you can get things resolved and leave this all behind as quickly as possible, so we can finally leave all this behind us.

I haven’t even left and the thought of being on that long flight to the other side of the world without you is unbearable, but let’s hold on to the idea that in a few days, you and I will be together again, doing what we do best, (we’ve been doing it all night, so I’m sure you’ve not forgotten about that)

Let me know how it went asap?

You’re on my mind always! I love and miss you too!

Your lover par excellence

She got out of the cab and stopped in her tracks to read his e-mail, clutching the phone to her heart, she took a deep breath looking up at the hospital in front of her, here went absolutely nothing.

”Everything is loaded up, we can go now if you’re ready” the guy who came to pick him up said, “yeah, I’m ready” he closed the door behind him, all day he had been waiting for a call, a mail, anything, but nothing, every one of his calls had rolled to voicemail and it sure didn’t put his mind at ease, this was not like her, she always kept her promises and she had looked so desperate this morning. “We really need to go now” the driver’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “yeah yeah, I know” he walked to the car, not able to keep his eyes off his phone when he shuffled into the backseat. For fuck’s sakes, why don’t you pickup?? It’s not switched off or has a flat battery, I’m sick of all this calling, hasn’t it come to your mind that I’m starting to get worries and I’m just about to board a plane? All annoyed he ended another attempt to call her. “Jay, come on” Shannon gestured at him to hurry up, he was trying to delay getting on that plane, “yeah, yeah one more call” he waved at him to get onto the plane already, Arno, great idea, he was gonna call Arno, 2 minutes later he was ready to throw his phone on the tarmac, why did everyone have phones when they just ignored every call or mail or text??? “Jared?” now it was Shayla’s voice who urged him to hurry up. “Alright, alright” he rolled his eyes and accepted his fate of being locked up in a massive plane high up there for almost an entire day without any news from her, maybe she would send him a mail, at least something to look forward to.

”Ciao Papa” she stuttered as she walked inside the room and saw her father sitting up in his bed, he looked like a new man, nothing like when she last saw him here attached to all sorts of tubes, was he alone here? Suddenly she was roughed pushed inside the room from behind, causing her to stumble forward while her mother pushed past her without a word or even a glance. “Come stai, Papa? You look so much better” just ignore all the aggressive stares, break the ice, Harper, just suck it up. “Harper Coco” hearing her father say her full name sent a shiver down her spine and not in a good way, he had always used her full name before he went in predator modus when she was a child. Coming here had obviously been a mistake, and where was Arno?, she really didn’t want to beat about the bush, she had Jared to go back to, would he be getting ready now for Australia? “do I look better? Well I certainly don’t feel much better, knowing it was you who put me here in the first place, but I guess you always had your heart on hurting your mother and me, didn’t you?” his voice was ice and so were his eyes that drilled into hers.

“Will anything I say even matter? In my experience it has always been the other way round when you two knocked me around the house almost every day..” she spat back and he didn’t even flinch “Anyway, Arno said you wanted to talk to me? I’m here now, so talk”. It was her father’s almost devilish grin that shook her to the core “Arno just did what we asked him to do..” he paused for effect “Let’s be honest here, you tried to kill us, Harper, plain and simple, and that ‘s not just an opinion, no, myself and the entire family are convinced that these..vile pieces of…” he hesitated, intense disgust scribbled over his face “mockery that you waisted paint on were an attempt to humiliate, even desecrating the importance and standing of one of the most ancient and most powerful aristocratic names of Italy that is the House of De Robiano d’Arcy”. Before she could even form a word, his voice thundered over her “ever since you were a child, you were demonic, always bullying, hurting your siblings, your parents..and now you thought you would serve the final blow and almost had me killed”. What??? What the fuck was he saying? “WHAT?? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the bully??? I tried to kill you??? YOU!...YOU were the one who singled me out of all your children and beat me, kicked me until I was black and blue and had to be rushed to the hospital..what????” big tears of frustration and helplessness against this vicious and slanderous attack started to roll down her face while he single-handedly erased and re-wrote the pages of her haunted childhood and youth that had been packed with physical abuse.

”Your outburst is another fine example of your psychopathic nature, you need professional help, girl..it just goes to show that your mother and I were right to cut you off of your financial support and to take away your title..you were never one of us and neither did you ever want to be, and if an attempted murder is your way of paying us back for everything we have done for you emotionally and financially, then I see no other way of disowning you completely”. A door opened behind her and a few sharp dressed men walked in “Miss Harper Coco De Robiano d’Arcy? As attorney of Mr. and Mrs. De Robiano d’Arcy, I hereby request to sign this document that will officially take away the aristocratic title that your name provides, neither shall you receive any financial support by requesters present here, subsequently you will also be written out of the requesters testament and will, neither will you be able to contest this decision. Should you seek contact with any member of the family mentioned hereabove, for any reason, a summon to court will follow” He put the document on the table and pointed out where she needed to sign, completely overwhelmed and distraught by this ordeal, she put the pen to paper and scribbled her name, soon as she put down the pen again, he handed her a copy of the document. “This is your copy, and this..” another document was handed over to her “is a summons to court for abuse and neglect. I must emphasise that this summons will be under scrutiny of the court and should any info show up in the media or elsewhere, you will be charged with intentional disclosure”.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #30 seconds to mars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #fanfiction #fic #30 seconds to mars fanfiction #30 secondstomars fanfic #A man on fire #chapter 85 #caroline18mars

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glass-dahlia · 2 years

Text

CSI:KFC (Part 2)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~26.5k

Warnings: (Please see Part 1)

Masterlist | Part 1

You pace back and forth quietly in the kitchen. You snuck out of the bedroom without waking Ransom and Dodger.

“So… you switched the Morphine and the Toradol… so you gave him 100 milligrams of Morphine but didn’t have the antidote?” You repeat back to Marta.

“Yes. And Harlan came up with the whole plan to get me out of it then he… he-”

“I know, it’s ok. You did it for your family, I understand.”

“So you won’t tell?”

“Of course not, you’re my friend and it’s what Harlan wanted.” You organize the mail Ransom left scattered on the counter as you speak, arranging it into a neat pile to occupy your hands.

“I can’t thank you enough, Y/n, I owe you,” Marta says, clearly relieved.

“You don’t owe me anything, think of this as my thanks to you for all you did for Harlan.”

You hear Marta release a breath she had been holding. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, wrapping up your conversation that had lasted about an hour.

“Bye, Marta.” You hang up the phone and look at the time. Two a.m.

You head back up to your bedroom and lay back down, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You stare at the wall across from you with your back to Ransom, going over what happened to Marta in your head. As you’re lost in your thoughts, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Trouble sleeping?” Ransom asks, sounding tired.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you put your hands on top of his, crossing your arms over your stomach to do so. “I’m ok now.”

“Alright, night, Y/n,” he replies, voice gravelly slightly as he leans over and kisses your shoulder gently.

“Night Ransom…” you trail off as you feel sleep taking you over once more.

🔍🔪🔎

You stand next to your father as he whistles, waving to show Marta where to park. You walk inside the small ‘security’ shack with him, followed by Marta.

The guy in charge of security, Mr. Proofroc, greets you and shows you all inside.

“Fifty years ago, I worked this estate,” he states, putting a picture of the house on the fridge with a cherry shaped magnet. “You know, security back then was such that you had to make the rounds with a 94 and keep your ears open.” He chuckles as does Blanc. “Now you’ve got all this modern technology. That’s the video there,” he states, showing you all over to three old TVs as well as a VCR, “I saved the tape from that night. Normally, I erase ‘em with a magnetic degausser, but in this case, I thought I’d just save it, you know? For security. Now, uh, that’s a live feed there.” Mr. Proofroc points to one of the TVs and Marta seems to go slightly pale.

You decide to not mention it, knowing it must have something to do with when she pulled off the road to execute her and Harlan’s plan. You look over to see your father very focused on the task at hand, finding evidence.

“All right, well, can we see the actual tape?” Lieutenant Elliott requests, starting to get slightly impatient.

“Well, of course you can,” Proofroc says kindly and sincerely, “I recorded it SSLP. There’s eight hours in that tape. 9:00 p.m. to 5:00 a.m.” He hands the tape to Marta and she inserts it into the VCR. She presses play and a second screen turns on, displaying the recording. It’s exactly the quality of video you’d expect from a VCR player. The screen jumps around slightly, all glitchy-like.

“Looks like a Japanese horror movie, are we all gonna die in seven days?” Trooper Wagner comments, making you chuckle softly.

“You think we could scan forward on that?” Blanc leans down to ask Marta.

“How can we scan forward?” Marta asks Mr. Proofroc.

“Oh, yeah, just hold the play button down and press FF until you hear it grind.”

The VCR starts whirring as it scans forward. Everyone focuses on the TV.

“All right, should be coming up now to the time when the party ended,” Wagner states.

You glance down at Marta and subtly point to the eject button on the VCR. Just before it gets to the party’s end, the VHS tape ejects causing the screen to show static.

“What happened?” Marta asks, feigning confusion.

“Oh, you gotta keep holding it down or else it’ll eject. That thing eats tapes like popcorn,” Proofroc responds. You smirk slightly, proud of yourself for successfully helping Marta.

“You think your guys can digitize this so we could scan it properly?” you overhear your father asking Elliott and Wagner.

“Yeah, I think we can do that,” Wagner affirms.

You grab the tape and slip it into your coat pocket.

“Got it,” you nod to your father.

“Back to the house then,” he says, leading the way. Everyone follows him, you stay at the end and grab one of the fruit magnets on the fridge on your way out.

Proofroc says he erased the tapes with a magnetic degausser, hopefully this will work the same.

🔍🔪🔎

You all walk through the woods, leading up to the house. As you pass animal statues, Trooper Wagner decides it’s the perfect time to display his nerdy knowledge.

“You know, all these statues that you see around here? They’re all straight out of the series, The Menagerie Tragedy Triology. Pretty cool.”

“Awesome,” Lieutenant Elliott says, clearly not finding it very awesome.

“Yeah,” Wagner says, not comprehending Elliott’s unimpressed tone.

“Benny, it’s beautiful out here, but do you really think someone broke into the house and murdered Harlan? Is that why we’re out here?” Elliott just seems some with everything today, doesn’t he? And since when does anyone call your dad ‘Benny’?

“Oh, it is unlikely, but if they did, there will be traces,” Blanc answers.

You notice Trooper Wagner has fallen back and is walking next to you as Marta continues to lead the way. You glance at him, knowing he has something to say.

“Uh, I can hang onto that,” he says, pointing to the VHS tape you have in your hands.

“Sure,” you hand it over, carefully slipping the magnet into your pocket so no one will notice. You’re just praying that worked.

Blanc eventually starts humming as you keep walking.

“Hey, Wagner, you got any luck on… Uh, what’s-his-name?” Elliott inquires.

“Ransom?” Wagner guesses. Your head snaps up as you hear him mention Ransom, but you stay silent.

“Yeah.”

“No. Did get an address though. 10 Kenoak Street.”

Do they really not understand that you literally live with him? You glance at your father and he seems to be thinking the same thing. You both shrug it off and keep walking.

Your father repeats the street name as Marta stops ahead of you. You stop next to her and she gestures to the footprints she must have left when she came back that night. You nod for her to keep walking and she reluctantly does with you following close behind.

Wagner makes a comment about the leaves and mud messing up his boots, drawing your father’s attention to the fact that there’s mud.

“Did it rain the past week?” He asks aloud. He suddenly seems to realize that there could be evidence in the form of prints. “No, stay there!” he demands, “We got footprints here, so, uh… I wanna, um…”

Looking up, Blanc realizes you and Marta are farther ahead and trampling the potential evidence. “Marta! Y/n! Stop-“

“What?” You call back, turning around to him at the end of the path.

“Uh, just stay there you two,” he attempts to instruct you.

“What? I couldn’t hear you-”

“No, stay there- no, no, no!”

“Did you call me?” You ask once you get back to him. He sighs in defeat. Elliott and Wagner continue ahead, carefully avoiding the muddy path and staying on the leaves.

“Wagner, we’re gonna need to call the boys, have ‘em come down here, take a look at all these tracks. Get it taped off,” Elliott instructs, telling you all to stay on one side of the path.

Just then, Harlan’s dogs run through the muddy portion of the path and over to you and Marta. They excitedly wag their tails in greeting and bark happily. Marta pets one as the other sniffs you, smelling Dodger on your clothes. You smile and pet them affectionately.

“Best judge of character is a dog. I’ve found that to be true,” your father states.

The dogs run off towards the driveway as Linda and Richard get out of their car.

You check your phone for the time.

“I have to go, I took the Beemer so I need to go get Ransom. I’ll be back,” you wave to Marta and your father as you jog off, carefully avoiding the path this time.

🔍🔪🔎

You pull the Beemer into the driveway to see Ransom our front in his coat and scarf with Dodger in a matching white sweater, running around happily.

Once the car stops completely, Dodger bolts over, sniffing you once you step out.

He wags his tail, noticing the scent of other dogs.

“I betrayed you, I’m sorry,” you dramatically apologize, leaning down and kissing his head.

“No kiss for me?” Ransom chuckles jokingly.

“Geez, give a girl a minute, will ya?” you walk over to him and hug him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “You look ready to go already.”

“I am, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he states happily, still holding you in the hug.

“Wow, for once you’re not late. Shocker,” you tease, earning a laugh from him.

You take Dodger inside and put him in his cage before heading back out to the Beemer and hopping into the passenger seat as Ransom decided to drive.

You watch out the window as Ransom drives. The music stays on a low volume, not interrupting your thoughts on how to help Marta next. The only thing that does interrupt your thoughts is the light thud of one of Ransom’s feet on the floorboard as he bounces his leg.

“Nervous?” You ask, not quite knowing the cause for this odd behavior.

“No, nothing to be nervous for,” he answers complete truthfully and calmly.

“Right.”

🔍🔪🔎

Ransom parks in front of the house and you give his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance before you both get out of the car.

The dogs run over to Ransom once he steps out of the car and they start barking at him. You know they just smell Dodger’s scent and go into overprotective mode.

“No! No, no, no! Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop. Stop,” Ransom discourages the dogs, dodging as they jump up at him.

“Down,” you say firmly but kindly. The dogs stop and go over, sitting at either side of you. You smile and pet their heads.

“Why do they like you so much better?” Random pouts.

“Probably because I don’t smell like Dodger right now,” you gesture to his sweater. It has small holes and tears in it, caused by Dodger and him playing.

He smiles slightly as you walk over to him, wrapping his arm around your waist once you’re close enough for him to do so. He walks towards the house with you.

Lieutenant Elliott and Trooper Wagner walk out the front door, blocking your path.

“Hugh Drysdale?” Elliott inquires.

“Ransom. Call me Ransom, it’s my middle name,” he responds, taking off his sunglasses with the hand not holding you next to him, “only the help calls me Hugh.”

He keeps walking with you, right past Elliott and Wagner and into the house.

“Okay…” Elliot trails off, slightly baffled by Ransom’s behavior, “Uh, this is uh Trooper Wagner.” Ransom stops walking and lets go of your waist to turn around to them. “I’m Lieutenant Elliott. We just wanna ask a few questions.”

Ransom raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth like he’s about to respond.

Instead, he just sighs and turns back around, wrapping his arm around your waist once more and continuing inside. He takes you directly to the kitchen. Gotta get some snacks.

Elliott and Wagner turn and quickly follow.

“Excuse me? Sir? We’re officers of the law!” Wagner states.

“You gonna run me in? I don’t feel like talking,” Ransom calls from the kitchen, “I’m distraught.”

You pinch his arm, causing him to look at you in confusion.

“Try to be nice, will ya?” You whisper to him, not needing him to make a bad first impression with your father. He sighs and walks back out with you behind him.

“Hey, Benny, you wanna ask this guy some questions?” the Lieutenant offers.

Before Blanc can respond, Ransom interjects, “All right, what is this? What’s this arrangement?”

“Mr. Drysdale,” your father begins, Southern drawl as strong as always.

“CSI: KFC?” Ransom asks sarcastically.

He finds a way to condescendingly eat a cookie as he walks away. Elliott chuckles.

You sigh and walk beside Ransom, entering the sitting room where the rest of the family is waiting.

“Hey, Frannie, how about a glass of cold milk?” Ransom requests, more like orders, as he takes a seat.

You open your mouth to correct him, but Meg beats you to it.

“Hey, asshole. Not her name, not her job.”

“Hey, Meg. How’s the SJW degree coming?” Ransom asks. Jacob smirks slightly, not looking away from his phone. You sit on the arm of Ransom’s chair and smack the back of his head without anyone else noticing.

“Just behave, Ransom,” you mutter under your breath tensely.

“Trust fund prick,” Meg spits back at him.

“All right, guys,” Joni sighs, having enough of the bickering.

“Hey, everyone,” Alan Stevens greets. He’s the executor of Harlan’s will. “I’m just gonna be in the other room, setting up. Be ready in 10 minutes.” He leaves as quickly as he entered.

Ransom holds up a cookie to you as a peace offering and you sigh and take it from him, knowing he doesn’t really mean any harm to anyone. It’s just pointless bickering. That’s what this family is built on.

Walt speaks up, “Funny, Ransom, you skipped the funeral, but you’re early for the will reading.”

Everyone looks over to Ransom and he smirks his playboy smirk that won you over back in high school. It still gets you every time.

“Okay, people grieve in different ways. Let’s not...” Joni tries to defend Ransom.

“Yeah, he was sick-“ you attempt to add before getting cut off by Walt.

“You know what? It’s funny you’re here at all. Why are you even bothering? That’s what I’m asking myself.”

The smirk hasn’t left Ransom’s face.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” Richard asks, getting defensive of his son.

“He knows what it’s supposed to mean,” Walt states simply, looking at Ransom.

“Wait… Walt, what?” Linda questions. Everyone looks over at Walt for a response. You just roll your eyes and steal another cookie from Ransom, already about 3000% done with their bullshit for the day. Ransom takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it, making you blush.

“Jacob was in that bathroom the night of the party,” Walt states, pointing in the direction of a bathroom. Jacob visibly tenses and gets uncomfortable.

Joni chuckles, “Oh, that’s where you were all night?”

“What the hell were you doing in the bathroom all night?” Richard asks.

“Nothing,” Jacob says quickly and defensively.

“Swatting Syrian refugees?” Meg offers sarcastically.

“No, I was not,” Jacob says, getting more defensive and uncomfortable by the second.

“Alt-right troll,” Meg snarks.

“Liberal snowflake,” he mutters in response.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Walt says, shaking his head in confusion.

“It means your son’s a little creep,” Richard tells him.

“Oh!” Walt says like something just clicked, “My son’s a creep?”

“Hey!” You yip at him. No one insults Ransom in front of you.

“Guys! Just…” Joni regains the room’s focus, “Walt, he was in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, he was in the bathroom,” Walt confirms.

“Joylessly masturbating to pictures of dead deer,” Richard inputs sassily.

You notice Ransom cringe at that, a faint smirk still tugging at his (way too perfect) lips. Linda sighs, just wanting to know what Walt was talking about.

“You know what, Richard?” Walt hits his cane against the ground next to the couch, “You wanna go?”

“You bet, skippy, let’s go,” Richard makes a move over to Walt.

“You wanna go? Come on!”

Meg chuckles and you mutter under your breath to Ransom, “I’d pay good money to see this if they went through with it.”

Ransom chuckles and leans his head against your side. You drape your arm over the back of the chair and absentmindedly play with his hair.

Walt and Richard just get into a petty sissy fight while everyone shouts at them, trying to break them apart. Donna tried to pull Walt away, though he insists he can handle himself.

“Oh, my God,” you hear Joni mutter not so subtly.

Ransom chuckles, “We gotta do this more often.”

He eats another one of his cookies as you continue to mess with his surprisingly yet not so surprisingly soft hair.

“Hey!” Linda shouts, stopping the ruckus, “Jacob. We know where this is going. You were in the bathroom next to Harlan’s office, where he had the fight with Ransom. Now, you heard something. Spill it.”

“I just heard two things. ‘My will’ and then there was more yelling,” he recalls, a smirk slowly forming, “And then I heard Ransom say, ‘I’m warning you’.”

Walt raises his arms in victory. Linda turns to you and Ransom. Ransom just eats another cookie, watching Jacob, his face unreadable but mildly entertained.

“Ransom… What’s that mean?” Linda asks gently.

“I think it means our father finally came to his senses and cut this little brat out of his will,” Walt declares, getting into Ransom’s face. You lean away slightly, no longer playing with Ransom’s hair to his and your disappointment. “So I guess you’re gonna have to sell the Beemer,” Ransom makes a face of serious concentration, pretending to care about what Walt says, “and give your notice at the country club, and kick whatever fashion drug you’re on.” Ransom raises his eyebrows and cocks his head slightly as if Walt is making a good point. “Because if you think that after all the bridges you’ve burned, after all the shit you said, after everything you put this family through for the last 10 years, that any of us are gonna support you, that any of us are gonna give you, like Dad liked to say, ‘a single red dime’, you’re nuts!” he ends up yelling in Ransom’s face at the end.

Ransom inhaled sharply and rolls his eyes slightly, sarcastically mouthing a ‘wow’. He smiles slightly up at you.

“Son…” Richard starts.

“Father.” Ransom furrows his eyebrows, turning his head towards Richard sassily.

Richard sighs, “Did Harlan tell you he was gonna cut you out of the will?”

Ransom throws his hands up slightly, letting them land back into his lap with a light smack. His smirk returns.

“Yep,” he dismisses, popping the ‘p’.

Walt throws his arms up again, dismissing the topic and popping his lips like Ransom did as if it’s proving his own point.

“Well, then he’s done what none of us were strong enough to do. Maybe this might finally make you grow up.”

Ransom narrows his eyes slightly before looking down at his lap and sighing.

“This might be the best thing that could ever happen to you,” Linda says firmly.

“Thank you. My mother, ladies and gentlemen,” Ransom says bitterly, gesturing towards Linda.

“Look, this is not gonna be easy for you,” Ransom tilts his head, giving Joni the ‘you can't be serious’ look, “but it’ll be good. Nothing good is ever easy.”

“Up your ass, Joni. You’ve had your teeth in this family’s tit for a long time-” Ransom begins, voice firm.

“‘Up your ass’? Oh, very nice,” Meg mocks.

“Matter of fact, eat shit. How’s that?”

“Oh, my God, Ransom,” Joni chimes in.

“Please do not use that word in front of my son!” Donna gasps.

“Eat shit. Eat shit. Eat shit.”

“You entitled prick!” Richard booms.

“I would slap that smug smile right off of your goddamn face!”

“Definitely eat shit. Eat shit. You can all eat shit.”

Everyone continues bickering, you sigh, getting up and heading out to the back porch.

You find Blanc and Marta already there. Fran walks past you all in a rush.

“Asshole,” she points back to the house.

“‘I’m warning you’” your father repeats, tossing a baseball in his hand. “Ransom said, ‘I’m warning you’.”

“Well, you heard Ransom in there. That’s the kind of thing he says,” Marta volunteered.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t mean any harm. He’s sweet, really” you say, defending your fiancé.

Blanc tosses the baseball for one of the dogs and it runs off, leaving a piece of painted wood behind.

“What do we have here?” he asks, bending down and picking it up.

Marta looks nervous.

“This looks like a relatively fresh break,” your father states, walking off of the porch. You and Marta follow him. “Yep. Right there… wait a minute. Well, that doesn’t make sense. Where’s that window?”

You follow his line of eye sight, spotting the same window.

🔍🔪🔎

“How about some more cookies, Hugh?! You want some more cookies?!” Walt shouts in Ransom’s face, shoving the bag in Ransom’s face as well.

“That’s great. That’s great,” Ransom replies, unamused, “and it’s not like it’s the end of the world, Y/n has her books, we’re not broke.”

You smirk slightly, hearing that as you run past the room with your father and Marta.

Wagner and Elliott are both fixated on the scene in front of them. They force their attention away, deciding to follow your three instead.

🔍🔪🔎

Marta shows you all to a hallway upstairs.

“Show me. But stay off the carpet,” Blanc instructs Marta.

Marta presses herself against the wall, slowly moving to the end of the hallway.

She grabs hold of the paneling and carefully opens it without touching the carpet, revealing the window.

“It’s the trick window from A Kill For All Seasons,” Wagner says, nerding out once again.

“Trooper, here, will you take this?” your father requests, holding the piece of wood out to Wagner. Blanc gets down onto the ground and takes out a pocket magnifying glass, looking closely at the carpet.

“Hmm… traces of dried mud. I suspect they go the length of the hallway,” Blanc narrates aloud.

“Footprints?” Marta asks, hiding her nerves.

“No, just traces.”

“Yeah, depending on when this thing was last cleaned, this could have been at any time, right?” Elliot speculates.

“No, that would not explain this,” you reply, pointing to a bit of mud left on the windowsill. You bite your lip slightly, realizing that might help them find more evidence against Marta, but they would’ve found it either way. The sleigh in you couldn’t help it.

“Analyze that mud,” your father instructs, “it will match these traces. And you will find similar samples leading up the trellis on the outside of the house. On the night of the party, somebody who did not want to be heard climbing up those steps, went to a great deal of trouble to break into Harlan Thrombey’s rooms.”

“The game is afoot,” you mutter to yourself.

You all walk into the room where the will is to be read. The library. Same place you were all questioned in. Ransom sits in the back, away from everyone since he has been written out of the will. You walk over to the chair next to him, ready to sit.

Ransom hums in disapproval, causing you to tilt your head slightly in confusion.

He smirks slightly and you catch on. You go over to his chair instead and sit on the arm of the chair like you did earlier in the sitting room.

“Better?” You ask, smiling slightly but trying to hide it.

“Almost,” Ransom wraps an arm around your waist and tugs slightly, pulling you onto his lap instead. He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching boredly as the will reading commences.

“Well, thank you all for getting together like this,” Alan begins, “it isn’t legally necessary, but I thought since you’re all in town and some of you are leaving soon-”

“Excuse me,” your father interrupts him quickly, gaining everyone’s attention. “Uh, I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to gently request that you all stay in town until the investigation is completed.”

Joni looks at him as if she’s been offended in some way.

“Yeah, well, he’s gently requesting, but I’m gonna have to make that an order. No one move until we figure this all out,” Lieutenant Elliot declares.

“What?” Linda asks, slightly shocked.

“Can we ask why? Has something changed?” Joni questions.

“No-,” Blanc states firmly, opening his mouth to continue.

“No, it hasn’t changed? Or no, we can’t ask?” she specifies.

“Mr. Stevens,” Blanc addresses him, ignoring Joni, “you may continue.”

“Right. Well,” Alan picks up where he left off. Everyone looks at each other in shock. Ransom doesn’t seem to care. He just starts playing with the chess board next to the chair, trying to occupy himself.

“The other reason I thought this gathering would be, uh, beneficial is because Harlan altered his will a week before he died,” Linda and Richard turn to look at Ransom as Alan says that. You look up at a bookcase to avoid eye contact. Ransom gets bored of the chess pieces and starts playing with your hair instead. Alan continues, “He sealed it. He asked me not to submit it to the courts for probate until after his death. So, if anyone is confused about anything, we’re all together, we can talk. Although, I don’t imagine any of it is going to be that complicated.”

You look back at everyone in the room. They all seem to be getting antsy. They know what they want and they all expect it.

Oh, what you wouldn’t give to see their smugness stripped away. To see them realize that they’re not entitled to anything because of their ‘birth rights’ or whatever shit they’d claim it is.

“Uh, Harlan’s assets included…” Alan trails off, looking over the sheets. His assistant points to something on the sheet.

“The house,” she states.

“The house,” he repeats, “which he owned outright.”

Linda reaches over and grabs Richard’s hand, giving it a squeeze. You know she’s always wanted this house. Makes sense though, it is a lovely house. It’s like living on a Clue board.

“60 million.”

“Yes. 60 million in various cash amounts and investments.”

Joni nods. That’s her goal, of course. Without Harlan’s financial support, you don’t know what she’s gonna do. Some small part of you wants her to get at least some of it. At least for Meg. She’s intelligent, witty, and a hard worker. She deserves to go to a nice school for a solid education, you don’t want her to lose that because her mom can’t afford it.

“And of course, the real asset, sole ownership of Blood Like Wine. His publishing company,” Alan adds.

Walt and Donna hold hands. You’re praying deep, deep down that Harlan changed something, anything. Anything to prevent Walt from taking over the publishing company. If Walt takes over, there’s next to no chance that he’ll keep publishing your works. Harlan always kept him in check, but without that, he’ll burn your bridges faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.

You shake your head slightly, your father’s countryisms are getting to you.

Ransom chuckles lightly at your odd behavior and just continues to mess with your hair, twirling a small strand through his fingers.

“He also wrote up a statement when he was making the changes and he wanted that read first.” Alan grabs another piece of paper and reads aloud, “‘Dearest

Linda, Walter, and Joni… Some of you may be surprised by the choice I’ve made here. No pleasure was taken in the exclusion. And it’s purpose was not to sow greater discord in the family, quite the opposite. Please accept it with grace and without bitterness, but do accept it, it’s for the best. Dad.’”

Alan’s assistant hands him an envelope. He carefully opens it with a letter opener. You feel Ransom shift his position slightly as he leans forward, suddenly very interested in what’s happening. He gives you a quick peck on the cheek before Alan reads the will.

“Umm… wow. Well, yeah, not too complex at all. This will be quick,” Alan states, looking at the single, one-sided piece of paper. Linda chuckles. “‘I, Harlan Thrombey, being of sound mind and body’ and yada-yada-yada… ‘I hereby direct that all my assets, both liquid and otherwise, I leave in their entirety to Marta Cabrera’” Alan looks up, and everyone turns to look at Marta.

“‘My entire ownership of Blood Like Wine publishing, I leave in its entirety to Marta Cabrera, the copyright of its catalogue likewise I leave in its entirety to Marta Cabrera.’”

Ransom smirks as those words seem to sink in for everyone. He lets go of your hair as you get up, already sensing another argument.

Everyone starts to stand up.

“Uh… no,” Walt states firmly, clearly shocked. “That’s not… no, that can’t be.”

“No,” Linda agrees firmly.

“Can I see that Alan, please?” Alan hands the will to Walt so he can see for himself. You slowly walk over, unable to stop a sly smile that creeps across your lips.

“This can’t be legal!” Linda argues.

“It’s right…” Walt confirms in shock.

You can hear Ransom start to chuckle. Everyone starts to argue that there has to be a mistake and that it’s unfair, causing Ransom to crack up even more. He smacks his thigh as he starts to break down laughing, getting up and leaving the room, still laughing joyously.

You watch him leave and slowly walk over to Marta. She looks panicked. Must be a lot for her to take in. You hug her, still overhearing the family arguing. Now they’re blaming it on his medications.

“Alan, you can take this piece of paper and shove it right up your ass, and get out!” Linda shouts aggressively. “And, you cops, too, out. Out! Right now.”

“Linda,” Richard tries to calm her down.

Trooper Wagner turns to leave, but Trooper Elliott stops him and they stay put.

“No, Richard, we need to talk. We need to fight this thing. We’re not going anywhere.” Linda notices Elliott and Wagner haven’t left, “I said get out! We are the Thrombeys God damn it! This is still our house!”

She freezes and everyone slowly turns back to Alan. His assistant points to the paper for him to answer the unspoken question.

“Oh, sorry. ‘Likewise the house at 2 Deerborn Drive and all belongings therein, I leave to Marta Cabrera.’”

“Oh no…” Marta breathes out. You pat her shoulder, not sure of what else to do.

“Oh, you little bitch! You little bitch!” Linda berates her. Richard tried to stop her, but fails completely. “Did you know about this?! Were you in on this from the beginning?”

Your father moves protectively in front of you and Marta to block you from the family. Everyone tried to calm Linda down but it seems to enhance her outrage.

“No, no, no!” she snaps, “I just wanna know. What were you… what were you doing? Were you boinking my father?!”

“’Boinking’?” Meg laughs aloud and you chuckle slightly.

Everyone restarts their shouting.

“I think everybody just needs to cool their jets,” your father suggests, trying to diffuse the situation, but of course failing.

“You had sex with my grandpa, you dirty anchor baby!” Jacob shouts viciously. You scrunch your nose at the rude name. That boy needs some help.

“Now hold your horses!” Your father turns to you and Marta, speaking to Marta,

“And in the meantime, I’d maybe run.”

Marta starts walking down the hallway, but Walt notices and calls out to her for her to wait.

Blanc tries to block the doorway to buy Marta some time. You stand with him to help, but you can’t do much and they get past you after a moment. Everyone runs to follow Marta, all throwing questions and comments at her simultaneously. She tried to stay calm through her tears, not understanding what’s happening and needing time to think. Jacob live-streams the whole thing.

You watch from the porch with your father as she climbs into her car, attempting to start it. She rests her forehead against the steering wheel in defeat when her efforts become futile.

Just then you hear the familiar engine rev of yours and Ransom’s Beemer. He honks and waves to her, telling her to hop in the car with him. After a second of hesitation, she quickly runs into the car and shuts the door as Ransom turns the car around, lowering his window.

“I think this could be the best thing to happen to all of you!” He shouts mockingly before driving off.

“Ransom!” You shout after him to no avail. He’s too far away to hear you and the engine is too loud.

“What does he mean by that?” Richard asks as Joni shrugs in defeat, walking back inside with Meg.

“Richard, why didn’t you stop her?” Linda questions in annoyance.

“What am I supposed to do? Grab the bumper with my teeth?”

Your father watches the car drive off thoughtfully. You sigh, “There goes my ride.”

“He’s certainly something, Y/n,” your father comments. By his tone you can tell he clearly doesn’t think highly of Ransom.

“First impressions are always the worst, right?” you smile slightly nervously.

Your father returns a slight smile and chuckles.

“That’s the man I’ve chosen to spend the rest of my life with… and he just left me here without a ride…” you purse your lips.

The only people left outside are you and your father.

“We all have struggles,” Blanc reassures you.

“We do… Do you miss her? Do you… ya know… still think about her?”

“Every day. You look a lot like her.”

You smile and look down at your feet, proud to share a resemblance with your mother.

“Go get him.” Your father pats your shoulder.

“He took our car, I can’t really…” you trail off, noticing that Marta left her keys in her unlocked car. You give your father a quick hug before jogging over to the car and hopping in, turning the engine on after a few tries.

You think of all the places they could have gone. Not Marta’s place, Ransom doesn’t know the address. Not your house, Ransom’s family knows the address. Probably somewhere public. It dawns on you. You shift the car into drive and head off in the direction of your favorite restaurant that Ransom and you always go to.

Blanc watches you drive off as he shoves his hands into his coat pockets. He sighs, feeling internally conflicted.

On one hand, you’re clearly very happy with Ransom. You love him and he very clearly is head over heels for you.

On the other hand, something in the back of his mind keeps itching to look into his suspicions of Ransom.

🔍🔪🔎

You park next to the Beemer once you get to the restaurant.

Walking in, you spot Ransom and Marta in a booth in the back corner. You head over towards them, luckily avoiding any social interactions with staff along the way. Socializing is definitely not your forte.

“Y/n?”

Ransom looks up from his hands folded on the table when Marta speaks.

“Hey.”

You sit next to Ransom. After a moment he instinctively wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. You toss the keys to Marta’s car on the table, letting them slide over to her. She takes them, putting them in her jacket pocket.

“How’re you doing, Marta?” you tilt your head slightly as you ask her, keeping your voice gentle.

“It’s a lot. I don’t know what to think, honestly.”

“That’s ok, you can have all the time you need, don’t listen to any of them. You’re the one in charge now,” you smile slightly. Ransom talks to the waitress as you focus on Marta. Marta nods, looking down. Her face is slightly pale.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out. Have you eaten anything today?” Ransom asks her. She doesn’t respond. “Eat.”

He pushes a plate of food towards her, wrapping his arm around your shoulders once more.

Marta sighs before grabbing a fork.

“This is a nightmare,” she states, eating a forkful of food.

“Mhmm,” Ransom hums in agreement, nodding slightly. “So why?”

Marta shakes her head slightly, looking at her food, “Why?”

“Why?” Ransom repeats as you lean into him more.

Marta takes another forkful of food and glares slightly at Ransom.

“Hey. This is everything.” Marta nods slightly and you look up at Ransom as he speaks. “There’s gotta be a bigger reason why, and you know it.”

“Well, how about it had to do more with you guys than with me?”

Ransom stays quiet, watching Marta for a second as he lets that sink in before replying.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

The waitress comes over, placing an empty bowl on the table. Ransom glances over and notices you doing the same. He pulls you closer to himself to distract you from trying to figure out his plan.

“Did he tell you anything?” Marta inquires.

“Only that I wasn’t getting a cent.”

“That’s because he wanted you to build something from the ground up,” you state.

“Like your mom,” Marta adds in.

“‘To build something from the ground up’. Yeah, my mother built her business from the ground up with a million-dollar loan from my grandfather. My father owns none of it. She made him sign a prenup.”

Marta slowly continues eating. You place your hand on top of Ransom’s to keep him calm.

“He lives in fear. And I know that’s what my grandfather was trying to protect me from by doing this and I know I shouldn’t say this out loud, but when he told me, I…” he shakes his head slightly and purses his lips, “Jesus. I coulda killed him.”

Marta looks down and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand in reassurance.

“After I left the party though, I was driving. Nowhere, just in the night, and I had this, um… clarity. Like, from here on out, I was gonna have to fend for myself. And that felt… good.”

Marta nods slightly.

“The old bastard,” Ransom mutters.

Marta sighs.

“Marta, I know three things,” Ransom begins. You hold back from making a sassy comment and teasing him.

“One, I know he didn’t commit suicide.”

You look over to Marta and notice her trying to hide how nervous she is.

“What makes you think that?” she asks calmly.

“I don’t think it. I know it. Because I knew my granddad. Maybe you, Y/n, and I were the only three who knew him so you’re not gonna bullshit me on this because two… I know lying makes you puke. ‘Cause of that mafia game last Fourth of July.”

You shudder slightly at the memory. Ransom clicks his tongue and gently kisses your temple.

“And three, I know you just ate a full plate of baked beans and sausage,” Ransom finishes, his Boston accent coming on strong when he says ‘sausage’.

Marta looks down at her mostly empty plate, looking calm but really pissed off at Ransom. You glance at the empty bowl that’s been sitting at the table and realize Ransom’s plan. He’s actually pretty smart. You have to give him that.

“So,” Ransom moves Marta’s plate of food away and the empty bowl towards her, “look me in the eye and tell me what happened to my grandfather.”

Marta shakes her head slightly in disbelief, “You asshole,” she whispers.

You glance between them, not sure who to side with. On one hand, what Ransom has forced Marta into is pretty cruel and unfair to her. You know her story and don’t want her to get in trouble for a little mix up.

On the other hand, you’re engaged to Ransom and should probably side with him on basically everything. Though, what fun would that be?

“Marta, tell me everything.”

Marta sighs and hides her face in her hands. You reach over and gently rub her arm.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m not going to let him do anything stupid, I promise,” you reassure her.

“When have I ever done anything stupid?” Ransom asks, slightly offended.

“How many examples do you want? I keep a list. Alphabetical order,” you pull out your phone, going into your notes to let the countless pages of your list load.

🔍🔪🔎

“Alan, there have got to be options here,” Walt insists.

“No. I don’t know how many times I can repeat the same two pieces of information. If Harlan was of sound mind when he made the changes, and we all confirmed that he was-” Alan tries to justify.

“Would a sound mind do this?” Richard asks, voice raised. “How… sound how?”

“The very action speaks to unsoundness,” Linda declares as if she’s won the argument.

“Not legally. No. You not liking what he did does not speak to testamentary capacity,” Alan retorts calmly.

“What about undue influence?” Jacob asks, looking up from his phone.

“Yeah! Undue influence, how about that, huh?” Walt asks excitedly.

“Did you just google that?” Alan asks doubtfully.

“Look, if Marta was manipulating Dad somehow and if we found out that somehow she was...” Walt trails off.

“If somehow, she had gotten her hooks into him…” Linda adds as Walt speaks, both of them approaching Alan before they’re interrupted by him.

“You need a strong case for that. ‘Your Honor, she endeared herself to him through hard work and good humor.’ That won’t cut the salami.”

“What about the slayer rule?” Joni questions, holding her phone. “I did just google that.”

“The slayer rule obviously doesn’t apply here,” Alan states.

“Well, what the hell is the slayer rule?” Richard asks Joni.

“Well, it’s if someone is convicted of killing the person, they don’t get their inheritance,” Joni replies.

“Not even convicted. Even if they’re held responsible for their death in civil court,” Alan clarifies.

“Like O.J.?” Walt questions.

“Yes, like O.J.” Alan answers. “But Harlan committed suicide.”

The same thought seems to dawn on everyone as they slowly turn to the man in the arm chair beside the crackling fireplace behind them all.

“Detective Blank? You said the investigation is ongoing. You made a point of that. Do you suspect foul play?” Joni inquires.

“Mr. Blanc, if you please,” the detective corrects her pronunciation. “There is much that remains unclear, but yes, I suspect foul play.”

Joni inhales deeply.

“Marta?” Richard asks quickly.

“I have eliminated no suspects.”

Richard sighs. “You’re full of shit. I don’t trust this guy in the tweed suit. And, Alan, God bless you, you’re useless.”

“Thank you.” Alan gets up from his spot on the couch, relieved to finally be able to leave.

“There’s only one answer to this. She has to renounce the inheritance,” Richard says.

“She knows it’s what she should do. It’s the right thing to do,” Walt reasons.

“That’s exactly what she should do,” Linda agrees.

“It’s the moral thing,” Richard adds as Meg walks away slightly.

“Mom,” Meg waits for Joni to walk over to her before continuing, “If Granddad wanted to give Marta everything, then that’s what he wanted.”

“No,” Joni shakes her head, “This wasn’t him. He loved us. He wanted us taken care of. He wanted you to have an education.”

Meg furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head slightly in disbelief at her mother’s behavior.

“Meg, you think I can pay for your school?” Joni scoffs slightly, her voice shaking as she walks back to the family. Meh watches in disbelief, letting it all sink in.

🔍🔪🔎

You look down at the table. There’s four empty beer bottles, a few empty plates and Ransom is already having another drink. You’re definitely driving home. Marta had told you both everything, though none of it was news to you anymore.

“Huh…” Ransom chuckles softly.

“I know. Just saying it, it sounds insane, but it’s all true. And I think Blanc’s been on to me from the start,” Marta looks at you as she says that, causing Ransom to give a look of confusion. He looks down at you, wondering why that would relate to you.

You avoid eye contact, not wanting to lie directly to Ransom anymore. “He probably has, I just don’t know why he hasn’t said anything. Maybe he’s just waiting until he has enough evidence.”

“I don’t care if I go to jail, but my mom, my sister? We…” she looks over at Ransom. He is staring down at the table, absentmindedly chewing at the small black straw from his drink as he thinks. “You gonna say something?”

“I always thought I was the only one that could beat him at Go.” Marta looks at Ransom in confusion. “Always thought that meant something.”

“Um, yeah, I know you did,” Marta replies, looking down at the table, not sure what to really say.

“That night at the party, my last conversation with him… my last argument, that’s what he told me about you. That you beat him at Go more than I do, and I thought… what a strange thing to tell me. Think I get it now. Maybe it did mean something.”

Marta stares at Ransom in disbelief as he clears his throat.

“I’m not gonna tell my family shit,” Ransom states, looking at Marta. “You’re not gonna go to jail. That detective is not gonna catch you. And you’re not gonna give up the money.”

You stay silent and look down at your hands in your lap. The thing is, you know “that detective”, he raised you. You know how he thinks and works. He sure as hell is going to catch Marta and figure out what happened. That’s why he was brought in.

“This is what Granddad wanted for you,” Ransom continues, “I mean, think about what he did to go through with this. He wanted this for himself, he wanted this for the family. And he wanted it for you. You’ve come this far. Let me- let us help you go all the way.” Ransom gives your hand a gentle squeeze and you smile slightly at him, nodding slightly to Marta. You want to help her and if anyone can outsmart Benoit Blanc, it sure as hell would be his daughter.

“What’s going on? This isn’t you. You could just turn me in right now and still get your cut of the inheritance. Why?” Marta sees straight through Ransom.

“Because fuck my family.”

You nod slightly. He does make a good point.

“We can help you get away with this, right?” Ransom looks at you as he speaks and you nod. “Right. And then, you’re gonna give me my cut of the inheritance.”

Marta chuckles lightly in disbelief.

“Happy ending. Everybody wins. You, me, Y/n, Harlan,” Ransom states.

“Yeah,” Marta sighs.

“Deal?”

Before she can answer, Marta’s phone buzzes and she picks up. You can tell she’s talking to Meg but you decide to not eavesdrop so you turn to Ransom.

“You really are an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

“Hey, you’re the one that said yes to my proposal~” he teases you with a smirk.

You blush lightly, “That I did. I’ll drive us home, you’re definitely over the limit.”

“Whatever you say, my love,” he kisses your forehead and hands you the keys.

You lean against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It sounds faster than normal. You look up at him, but before you can ask him anything, Marta clearly gets hung up on mid-sentence.

“Okay then,” Ransom mutters. “Did Blanc find anything suspicious at the house?”

Marta sighs, hiding her face in her hands again, “Yes, he found mud upstairs. Where I broke in through the window.”

“Shit,” Ransom mutters, barely audible. “Identifiable prints?”

Marta shakes her head, “No.”

“Good. Okay. Good. Hey, you lay low for a couple days, wait for this investigation to blow over, and it will. ‘Cause no matter how good this Blanc guy thinks he is, he’s got nothin’.”

Marta doesn’t respond. She just looks away from you both nervously.

“Hey, relax,” you offer Marta a soft smile and she nods slightly. “It’ll be ok. We’ll see you around, we have to get home.”

Marta nods again and you wave before walking out to the Beemer, leaving Ransom to follow behind.

You get in the car quickly and put the key in the ignition with a very shaky hand.

“Woah, hey, Y/n. Are you sure you’re ok to drive?” Ransom gently grabs your shaking hand in both of his hands. He looks at you softly and you can see the worry in his eyes.

“Even if he has nothing, he’ll find something,” you state simply.

“Darling, what are you talking about?”

“You said that Blanc has nothing, well even if that’s true, which I doubt, he will have something eventually. That’s kind of his whole thing. Solving the unsolvable.”

“Y/n, he’s just another detective, this whole thing will blow over and we’ll all be fine.”

“No, Ransom, he’s not. You don’t know him like I do,” you reluctantly pull your hand away from Ransom, shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot.

“I don’t think getting questioned by him means you suddenly know him,” Ransom chuckles lightly but falls quiet when you don’t laugh. “Y/n?”

You stop at a red light and take a deep breath.

“Ransom, he’s my father.”

The silence in the car remained for the rest of the drive home. Ransom kept opening his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

You pull into the driveway, parking the Beemer in its usual spot. Neither you nor Ransom move from your seats in the car.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t think it would ever matter. I definitely didn’t expect anything like this to happen,” you don’t look at Ransom as you speak.

He simply nods and gets out of the car, walking into the house, stumbling slightly on the steps. You sigh and follow him at a bit of a distance to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. He must’ve had too much to drink. Somehow.

You find him in the kitchen, chugging a glass of water. Only to refill the glass and repeat the process.

“Ransom, please just say something,” you beg quietly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“I have a headache,” he states, focusing his attention on the fourth glass of water in less than 5 minutes.

You gently grab his hand, taking the glass of water away from him.

“You know that’s not what I meant. And cool it with the water. You’re gonna get hyponatremia if you keep it up at this pace.”

“I’m thirsty,” he tries to take the glass back, but you keep it out of his reach.

“Then you’re probably dehydrated. Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

“No,” he puffs his cheeks slightly and walks off to the stairs.

“Ransom, where are you going?” you put the glass down, following after him. Dodger notices and immediately jumps up from his bed and follows you both.

“To bed. I’m tired.”

“Please just talk to me…”

He sighs and stops walking, allowing you to catch up and move in front of him so he’s facing you.

“We can talk in the morning,” he states, gripping the railing tightly. His knuckles turn slightly white in an effort to keep himself upright.

“Are you ok…?” you ask, slightly nervously. You’ve seen him drunk and it’s never been like this.

“Mhmm,” he replied simply, stumbling past you and into your bedroom.

The door doesn’t shut completely behind him. You stand on the stairs, trying to keep yourself from crying. Dodger tilts his head and wags his tail slightly in an effort to cheer you up. You smile slightly at how adorable he looks.

That smile disappears in seconds as you hear a thud from the bedroom.

“Ransom?”

You get no response.

You rush up the rest of the stairs, opening your bedroom door to see Ransom passed out on the ground.

“Jesus, Ransom. How fucking drunk are you?” you mutter as you manage to hoist him onto the bed. Luckily he wasn’t far from the bed.

🔍🔪🔎

You wake up alone in the bed and decide to go downstairs to look for Ransom.

You find him lying on the couch, wrapped in one of your cashmere blankets as he watches Netflix.

“Feeling better?” you ask as you walk over, sitting next to his pillow.

“Just tired,” he nods slightly.

“How drunk were you last night?”

“Not very,” he says simply.

“You seemed hella tipsy though.”

“My problem wasn’t with being drunk.”

You decide not to question him anymore, he doesn’t seem thrilled about the subject.

“Anyways, about yesterday…” you trail off, hoping he’ll catch on. He sighs.

“I’m not going to hold that against you, Y/n. I’m sure you had your reasons to not want to tell me that you’re the daughter of a famous detective. I might not know those reasons, but I don’t have to. It’s your right to choose what you tell me and I will always respect your decisions. I trust you. We all have our own secrets.”

“Even you?”

He hesitates slightly, “I suppose so, yeah.”

“Like what? You know mine, do I get to know yours?”

He looks up at you from his position of lying next to you on the couch. You absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair as he watches you, weighing his options.

“Not now, maybe later,” he smiles gently up at you.

“No rush, we have the rest of our lives. Until death do us part,” you lean down and kiss his forehead.

“Until death do us part,” Ransom repeats, “I always thought that was such a weird thing to have to say.”

You nod in agreement.

He sits up, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the blanket around both of you.

You blush and smile happily as you snuggle into him, both of you watching Netflix.

🔍🔪🔎

Eventually you find a good pause point in your binge-watching and you make two cups of (coffee/tea/hot drink of your preference). One for you, one for Ransom.

Just as you’re about to sit down, the doorbell rings, setting off Dodger. He runs to the door barking nonstop. You sigh and hand Ransom both of the cups before going to answer the door.

Marta is there, looking panicked. Dodger immediately perks up and sniffs her, excited to see another person.

“Hey, you ok? Come in,” you lead Marta inside.

“I got this,” she says, holding out an envelope. Her voice and hand shakes. You take the envelope and sit next to Ransom as you open it. He takes it from you and studies the slip of paper.

“I don’t know… what’s this?” he points to something at the bottom of the paper.

He rests his chin against his hand, covered by the sleeve of his sweater.

“It’s my medical bag tag. They have my medical bag for some reason,” Marta replies.

“Okay, but this is a photocopy of just the header of a blood toxicology report on Harlan,” Ransom clarifies. “Marta, this is going to show the morphine overdose.”

Marta just shrugs frantically as her breathing gets heavier.

“So I’m screwed?” she reasons.

“Hey, it’ll be ok,” you try to reassure her.

“How do you know all this stuff?” she asks Ransom.

“I was Harlan’s research assistant for a summer when Y/n was studying abroad. But what kind of blackmail scheme is this? I mean, the actual evidence is sitting up the street in the crime lab. There’s no demands, there’s no meeting place,”

Ransom shakes his head. “What’s the point in sending you this?”

Marta shrugs.

“Maybe we should go to the medical examiner’s office? They could’ve just intended to meet there?” you offer, pointing out the logo on the toxicology report.

“We could try,” Marta agrees.

“We’ll have to take your car, the Beemer only has two seats,” you add.

And off you go.

Marta pulls to a stop in front of the medical examiner’s office. Sirens wail around you. From the front seat, you watch as firefighters putting out the flames of the burning building.

You sink down in your seat slightly when you notice Lieutenant Elliott talking to your father. Luckily their backs are towards you. You’re just paranoid.

Ransom leans forward from his seat in the back to get a better view of what’s happening.

“Holy shit,” Marta mutters. “This is insane. I mean, who would blow up a whole real building just to blackmail me?”

Ransom checks to make sure no one is behind you before replying, “Marta, this means the blackmailer has the only paper copy of the thing that can prove your guilt. You didn’t get any other instructions? No phone call? No email? Nothing?”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly. It’s not like Ransom to be this helpful to anyone. Well, anyone besides you. You shake it off as just feeling jealous that you’re not the only one he can be nice to.

“No,” Marta sighs. “Well, I haven’t checked my email.”

She quickly pulls out her phone and goes into her unread emails. You lean over to look as does Ransom.

“There is one,” she declares softly. It only lists an address and time, sent from a nondescript or email address.

“Yeah, that’s it. ‘1209 Columbus Road. 10 a.m.’” Ransom confirms, reading the email.

They both look at the clock, realizing it’s already 9:32 a.m.

Ransom continues speaking to Marta, “You know what this means, right? If you destroy that copy, you’re totally in the clear.”

You, on the other hand, are too focused on watching Blanc and Elliott. Blanc has been pacing for a few minutes, something he usually does when thinking about a case. Just as he turns back around to pace the other way once more, he looks up, spotting Marta’s car. His eyes lock onto yours and you sink down into our seat further. Your eyes widen nervously.

“Well shit,” you say aloud, knowing this can’t end well.

That gains Marta’s attention and she follows your line of gaze, noticing your father starting to walk towards the car. “Oh no,” she whispers.

Ransom glances over as well, looking back at Marta, “Marta, did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Step on it,” you elbow Marta slightly, knowing you need to leave.

She snaps out of her daze and switches the car into drive, stepping in the gas and quickly maneuvering back onto the road as the tires of her car squeal.

🔍🔪🔎

You get onto a more open road and you hold your head in your hands, contemplating all of your life choices that have led you to this. What went wrong?

You think to yourself. You shake your head, realizing that’s too long of a list.

“Okay, baby driver,” Ransom glances behind the car.

“Oh god,” Marta whimpers nervously, “You regret helping me yet?”

“I regret not taking the Beemer,” he replies.

“You always regret not taking the Beemer. There are three of us, it has two seats. How would that have worked?” you retort sassily.

“We’re already running from the cops, not having the proper number of seats for passengers would be the least of our worries. At least it'd be faster,” he chuckles slightly.

You glance at the mirror on your side of the car and see three cop cars. You’ve been hearing the sirens for a few minutes.

Your phone buzzes. You glance down to see your father calling. You mute the call, not wanting to explain yourself.

“Go. Go! Go! Are you flooring it!?” Ransom asks, slightly frantic.

“I am literally flooring it!” Marta panics.

Your phone buzzes yet again with another call from your father as the cop cars catch up to you. One car drives at your side and your father leans out the open window slightly, pointing to his phone and trying to get you to pick up. You mute the call.

“This is going well,” Ransom muses sarcastically.

“I’m pulling over,” Marta declares.

“What?” you look at her in a panic.

“If you miss your chance to get this tox report, it's all over,” Ransom reminds her.

“Oh, my God,” Marta groans with tears in her eyes.

Marta suddenly slams the brakes, sending you forward, luckily caught by your seatbelt. You feel Ransom hit the back of your seat slightly. Luckily he had his seatbelt too.

“Hello whiplash” you mumble, rubbing your neck.

“Why- Why are we stopping? Why are you stopping in the middle of the road?” Ransom presses.

Just then Marta floors the glass again, speeding last the now stopped cop cars and quickly turning onto another road.

You glance behind you and see the cars turning and beginning to follow you.

🔍🔪🔎

You get onto a more crowded street, still followed by the cops.

“Hold on,” Marta warms as she quickly turns down an alley, bumping a dumpster with the side of her car.

“Glad we didn’t take the Beemer now?” you ask Ransom.

“A bit,” he nods.

One of the cop cars crashes into the corner of a building as it tries to turn into the alley at the same speed. Marta keeps driving. Another cop car gets stuck on some pallets next to another dumpster as they try to follow you.

You chuckle, slightly excited by the chase. Definitely reminds you of your teenage years.

Marta pulls to a quick stop, lightly hitting a few shopping carts behind a building.

“Oh, my God, I’m just pure adrenaline right now. I feel like I swallowed bees,” Marta pants slightly.

“Why would you know what swallowing bees feels like?” you ask rhetorically.

Marta chuckles slightly. Ransom smiles slightly, though you can’t see from your seat.

“Okay, so what is it? What’s the address?” Marta looks back at Ransom for an answer.

“1209 Columbus Road,” he recites from memory.

“Okay. I mean, whatever they want, I’ll say yes.”

“Anything,” Ransom nods.

“You know, just to get that report back.” Marta pulls her keys from the ignition.

“Get it back and destroy it,” Ransom adds.

“Destroy it,” Marta repeats. “Holy shit.” She sighs, “Hey, thank you guys. I couldn’t do this without you,” she looks at both you and Ransom earnestly.

You nod slightly, eyes widening suddenly as he window is firmly knocked on by a cop. Another car has pulled in behind you.

Lieutenant Elliott exits the car, leisurely going towards Marta’s car. “Get out,” he calls firmly.

You all get out, hands slightly raised. You and Ransom drop your arms, knowing there’s no real formality to this now.

“That was the dumbest car chase of all time,” Elliott states. Marta’s hands remain up. “Put your hands down,” he snaps at her.

Your father strolls over towards yours and Ransom’s side of the car. “I spoke to Wanetta Thrombey, Greatnana,” he informs you all, only looking at you. “Night of the party, she saw someone climbing the trellis to the third floor.”

You glance over at Marta, assuming it was her. You know Greatnana saw her when she came down the trellis.

“Mr. Drysdale,” Lieutenant Elliott calls, “come on.”

“Let’s go,” Trooper Wagner waves for Ransom to go to the cop car.

Ransom hesitated for a second before walking towards Wagner.

“Pat him down, check him out,” Elliott instructs as Wagner makes sure Ransom doesn’t have any weapons.

“What’s going on?” you ask, turning to Blanc for an answer.

“‘Ransom came back’ she said. I don’t know what he came back to do, but we’ll find out.”

Ransom looks over at you as he leans down to get in the car. He almost looks sorry.

“Did he ask you to drive when he saw me coming?” Blanc asks Marta.

“Yes,” she states simply. Blanc walks away a bit. You look away as she ducks into her car. You know she’s just got to puke now and you definitely don’t want to watch. You catch Ransom’s eyes as you avoid looking at Marta. You tap your foot slightly and sigh.

“Wait!” you call out, jogging over to Wagner. “Do you think I could come with you? I want to be with Ransom.”

“Yeah, I’ll drive with Marta, you can go with them,” your father pats your shoulder and heads back to Marta’s car.

Trooper Wagner opens the back door for you, letting you sit next to Ransom.

Definitely not the usual practice, but there’s no reason to not trust you.

The car pulls away and you mess with your hands in your lap. Ransom leans over and kisses your head, resting his forehead against the side of your head.

This isn’t like him. You know it isn’t. Something is off in this picture and you intend to find it. He never acts defeated.

🔍🔪🔎

Wagner parks the car in the driveway of Harlan’s house. You sigh as they lead Ransom out of the car and into the house, leaving you to follow behind. You walk into the library, ready to see if Ransom has any tricks left up his sleeves to cover for Marta.

🔍🔪🔎

Well he didn’t. He came clean, telling them exactly what Marta had told you two.

You confirm everything he says, agreeing that Marta had told you as well. Elliott and Wagner release Ransom, taking off his handcuffs. They all leave the room, but you don’t. You begin pacing, just like your father. Something doesn’t add up.

You begin a list in your head.

What I know:

Marta switched the medicine bottles because she didn’t read the labels

She didn’t call an ambulance

Harlan has her stage her leaving and him being alive so she wouldn’t be caught

Marta wouldn’t hurt a fly on purpose

Someone thinks Harlan was murdered, hence your father’s presence

Your father doesn’t seem to know why he’s here either

Harlan left everything to Marta, giving almost everyone motive

Ransom, your playboy drama queen fiancé, knew he wasn’t getting a cent of Harlan’s fortune

You stop pacing. You feel the blood drain from your face as something clicks in your mind. You quickly sit down in front of the piano, staring down at the keys as you connect the dots.

Harlan and Ransom loved to argue. Why would Harlan just tell Ransom he doesn’t get his share of the inheritance. It’d burn more knowing that it’s not going to anyone in the family. Harlan must’ve told him everything. If so, he knew that Marta would be getting the fortune. He couldn’t bet on her renouncing it, of course not.

You think back to your time at Harvard. You were writing your first book. You had really wanted to impress your teacher with your thoroughness in your research, so you had checked out many books on law from the library. You came home one night to find Ransom reading one of them and he had asked you about a few things, which you explained. One thing you remember him asking about? The slayer rule.

If Ransom wanted to reverse the changed will, you think, he knows that the slayer rule will nullify Marta’s claim. So if he could just frame Marta… bingo.

You immediately pull out your phone, only to receive a call from your father. You feel your mouth go dry from nerves.

You answer the call with a shaky, “Hello?”

“Y/n I regret to say Marta found Fran, and it’s a long story, but Fran is in the hospital and I figured I should let you know. I called the Lieutenant already. He told me what you and Ransom said,” your father informs you.

“O-oh,” you stutter.

“Is everything ok? You sound more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, Y/n.”

“No… it’s not ok…”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“I just… I’d need to see the tox report to be sure,” your drop your voice a few levels to be sure no one overhears you, “Dad, I think I’m engaged to a murderer.”

Pt. 3

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans #fanfic #knives out fanfiction #knives out #xreader #requests are open

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nsk96 · 3 months

Text

I’m baffled by a conversation I had with my mom this evening. She was like “things are gonna change, we’re gonna have to be extra careful. Keep our tails between our legs”.

I said “that’s what we’ve been doing and look what still happened”.

She said “then we need to tighten up. I won’t be cooking anymore. He hasn’t been helping with anything, not even taking out the trash. I’ve been doing everything. Once we finish out what’s in the freezer, we just keep the little stuff we need in there.”

She said, “Take your vitamins and drink the protein shake (Ensure) that’s all you need”. Yes, malnourishment, let’s go 🙄 The protein drink is only once per day, she knows that right?

Then she was like “we can buy some healthy food out when needed.” Oh really? Most people can’t afford to eat out everyday but you’re expecting us to when we can’t afford it either…besides me not having the time to even go out to buy food.

God, it’s like she’s going scorched earth and dragging me down with her. “Be careful of those who think they know what’s best for you. They will only drag you down to their level” - words from the astrologer my mom had me get a reading from years ago. For the longest while I suspected he was talking about my own mom. When she convinced me not to get therapy, not to seek out a psychiatrist for my attention issues. When she convinced me not to move out. Sure she got me the astrologer, ironically, but then again, I didn’t go to him until it was 100% my choice without her influence…literally 3 years after she told me about him because I kept forgetting and then eventually we both forgot and then I suddenly remembered him out of the blue.

I told her about how I’m preparing for the scenario of living in the car and she said she doesn’t think it will come to that.

I mean…it probably will if we’re going down this route. He’s just gonna get more pissed off. I’m gonna become extra fatigued and weak from this minimized diet she’s thinking of. My diet is already unbalanced as is but to take away even more, being unsure when I’ll eat next, yeah doesn’t look promising…

But I’ll move along with my plans anyway because this bitch got pharmacy school to finish. Still got stuff arriving in the mail and hopefully I can be packed and ready to go by the end of the week or sometime during Spring Break.

#personal

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mayalaen · 6 months

Text

I'm way too grouchy today.

I lost $900 today because my family STILL won't double check things.

When I first got covid, I was REALLY sick, and they knew it. My brain wasn't functioning right (still isn't but it's better than it was) and I wasn't double checking out-of-state orders for the shop personally for a couple weeks.

It had been a few months since they sent something out that was obviously paid for with a stolen credit card so I was like okay I'm gonna just step back and take care of myself and let them do their thing. It's a slow time of year anyway in the tattoo industry.

This morning Charlie (my uncle) dropped a letter from the bank off at my door. All four of us handle different things and Charlie does some of the banking stuff (among other things).

The letter was sent out weeks ago but he wasn't getting the mail even though he's supposed to get it no less than once a week.

The bank was notifying me that there was a chargeback on an order.

An $850 machine with expedited shipping, so $900 total.

I checked the order and the shipping address was 1500 miles away from the billing address. The phone number was 2500 miles away from the billing address and in a completely different state from the shipping address.

And the time period for being able to dispute the chargeback ended Friday at 5pm eastern standard time. He gave me the letter (today) Saturday morning. So TFB for me.

I pointed out the address discrepancies and both Charlie and Marissa (his wife) were like yeah but the system didn't flag it as fraudulent!

I said for the millionth time yeah I know. Not every fraudulent order is flagged as fraudulent, otherwise we'd never get scammed and the world would be a wonderful place!

I said, yet again, that I usually check EVERY order that comes in, especially when it's for more than $100.

Just a quick check to see if the billing and shipping addresses are SOMEWHAT close.

They responded with "EVERY ORDER?!!"

What kind of response is this?! Why the fuck would you double check some orders and not others?

And if you ARE going to check some and not others, wouldn't the $900 order with expedited shipping be one of them?!

I wasn't mean about it but I mentioned that I deal with scammers CONSTANTLY. I swear between the IRS requirements for small businesses and scammers, more than half my time working for the shop is spent dealing with bullshit instead of working on my actual shop!

I spent 3 days this past week dealing with a guy who ended up being a scammer. He kept trying to run his card through the online store and it was getting kicked back for nonmatching info.

I was emailing back and forth with him because he sounded like a genuine customer with a bank issue -- it happens sometimes because tattoo supplies are sometimes flagged by banks as unusual.

After three days of no less than an hour a day dealing with him, my bank finally kicked back some useful info -- that the card was issued to a man in the Netherlands while this dude was purchasing from the US.

So yeah. Scammer.

And if I wouldn't have been diligent with it or I had pushed the order through anyway, I would've lost almost $3000 in supplies.

I told Charlie and Marissa this and they reacted like spending this much time on a scam was a completely new idea to them. Like I haven't told them a million times how much time scammers take up.

But you can be sure that at the beginning of next month Charlie's going to be there with his hand out waiting for his pay and will throw a stink if I deduct $900 from his allowance even though the shop pays for my house/living expenses (and my parents) and Charlie's house/living expenses.

It feels like Charlie and Marissa are glorified cashiers (who get paid WAY more than cashiers and only work 30 hours a week) while I'm working no less than 60 hours a week and paying for their fuckups out of my own pocket.

At least you can fire shitty employees 🤬

Of course he immediately turned it around on me and acted like the hurt party in all this to the point where my mom was like "let him know you still love him he had a hard day."

Oh I'm sorry. Did he have a hard day when he found out that the car part he ordered was destroyed during shipping and they're sending a replacement? That's so terrible let me cry for him.

#real life #this is my life #this is me complaining #marissa #charlie #venting

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batstorm93672 · 2 years

Text

Jason was on the edge of everything keeping him sane, nightmares haunted him to stay awake and being Red Hood was no easy task. Robin was innocent in this... yet it irked Jason more than ever to hear Damian call him brother. The past of the League overwhelming Jason's mind.

"Akhi did you get hurt? I saw the bullet get clo-" "Don't call me that" "What?" "Don't. Call. Me. That"

"I do not understand Akhi-"

"I'M NOT YOUR BROTHER DAMIAN! GOD DON'T YOU GET IT?! JUST BECAUSE I WAS FORCED TO BE AROUND YOU DOESN'T MEAN WE ARE RELATED IN ANY FUCKING WAY!" No one moved for a good few minutes in the stunned silence.

"Habibi I didn't mean t-" Jason reached for him to give any sign of remorse.

"Don't touch me" Damian's voice is low and... dark as if he's holding every ounce in him back as he kept his head down his expression unreadable "Damian pl-"

"DON'T FUCKING SAY ANYTHING"

"Look I'm sorry I made you angry-"

"NO! I'M NOT ANGRY! I'M HURT FROM YOU TODD! YOU HURT ME AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME! WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME!? YOU LIAR! YOU SAID YOU CARED AND THAT YOU LOVED ME AND I WAS A FOOL TO FUCKING TRUST THAT SHIT!"

Looking up at Jason was a sobbing and pissed child. A child who was told that he had no connection to one of the few people he took the walls down for and let into his heart.

"I WAS A FOOL TO THINK I COULD BE LOVED BY YOU! I SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU NEVER CARED FOR ME! AFTER EVERYTHING, I HELPED YOU AND YOU SAID YOU TRUST ME AND YET YOU HURT ME! ...You bastard... I fucking trusted you... I hate you... I hate you! I HATE YOU TODD!" Damian ran so fast that Jason didn't have time to finish processing what he heard.

About two weeks since then... Jason hasn't seen Damian and he racked himself in self loathing. He hurt his baby brother, the one who was abused his whole life and forced to handle such dark things at a small age. Everyone had called more than once, asking what happened. When Oracle got mask footage those calls turned into if he was okay and then consoling. So many voice-mails that Jason had on his phone, everything felt like shit now.

Jason reluctantly looked at his phone, over 100 voice-mails left to collect dust. Regardless he tapped on one from a week ago, from Golden Boy aka Dick.

Hey Jaybird, we saw the footage. I could tell you were having a rough time. I'm sure you didn't mean what you said and I know Dami didn't either. If you get this please call back we're all worried and there's some... news we have

Jason tapped on another from three days ago and Jason was met with Dick sighing and sounding worn out as hell.

Hey... I know you won't answer and all that... but we all need help right now. That news I mentioned is that... Damian went missing

Jason sat upright quickly with an ache in his heart

No signs of him or anything either, we checked all of Gotham and nothing turned up. If you get anything I beg of you to call or give a sign

It clicked and Jason was left with panic and fear swelling up in him. "Fuck... fuck fuck no no! Where is he?!" Jason had to swallow all of his fears down, now is not the time. He has to go out and find him immediately.

Hours of searching and coming up empty, the final place Jason can think of:

One of the many safehouses, but this one is where Jason and Damian would hang out and get away from the world by watching dumb stuff or talking. This is their secret place to be when they want a break from everything.

Jason unlocked the door, only he and Damian had a key. It was dark and gloomy, usually whenever they hung out it seemed to be more bright and comfortable. Regardless, Jason closed the door and locked it, turning on the lights and looking around.

Jason looked everywhere, one sure sign of him being here was the gloves, cape and mask on the table, coming to stop at the kitchen cupboard. Damian preferred small places so he can easily ground himself better when he had a panic attack. It was easier to find himself instead of being outside where you can be attacked at any moment.

Opening it to see Damian holding himself, stains of tears down his face. Jason reached out slowly, any fast movements would startle Damian and make him unsafe. He has to be careful to make up for what he's done.

As softly as he could he spoke "Damian. Hey Habibi please wake up. I want to help you baby"

Damian's eyes fluttered open and landed on Jason "...Todd" "Hey... I was looking for you" "Why?" "Because I care for you, I'm sorry for hurting you"

Jason stepped back and Damian got out, slightly shifting as he stood in front Jason, clinging onto the end of his Robin uniform.

"..."

"Damian... I didn't mean what I said. I was tired and shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm so sorry, I love you so much and I love being your Akhi"

Damian's voice was barely a whisper "You... you mean it?" "Yes, I always have and always will Damian" "I... I-I don't wanna hate you Akhi! I don't wanna hate you anymore!" Damian cried out whatever tears were left looking more like a lost child. Jason kneeled down and held him "I love you Habibi, I always will regardless of any arguments or anything in the way"

"I love you too Akhi... I love you"

"I'll tell everyone I found you, we'll clear everything up and then if you want we can hang out?"

"I'd love to hang out with you Akhi"

#damian wayne #damian wayne has feelings and he wont admit it #jason todd #robin #red hood #not me actually feeling emotional over how damian shouts and ends it by saying he hates him

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sunspray-peak · 1 year

Text

Ch. 21: Some Birthday, Huh?

TW: Suicidal ideation

SATURDAY - SUMMER 13

Part of Achilles had assumed Alex—allegedly a bit of a player and partier in his early college days (or as Haley less eloquently put it, “a giant-ass whore for both women and wine”)—would throw a rager of some kind for his birthday. Kegs and strobe lights, large speakers crackling out the latest Top 100 hits and the like. Not Achilles’ scene these days, but he’d suffer through it for Alex…

Then again, the other, probably larger, part of Achilles couldn’t quite reconcile the image of this supposed past Alex with the Alex he knew. Had he ever even seen Alex drink before? Perhaps the man had simply mellowed out since college. Regardless, to Achilles’ satisfaction, it was indeed this larger part of him that was rewarded as he promptly wandered down to the beach at 5pm to find a low key bonfire and barbecue in a flag-marked plot of sand.

“No alcohol.” Emily greeted him with a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade “Luau’s a special occasion, but otherwise, beach is supposed to be a sober zone. Not that anyone listens, but you know Alex is a stickler for the rules.”

So much for the rager. Achilles stepped to the side as another attendee made for the lemonade and juice stand. “So is that why Shane isn’t here, then?”

“Oh, Shane wasn’t invited. Although it is a public beach, I think he might actually be around, I thought I saw him earlier…”

Together, they craned their necks to examine the small evening crowd. Sure enough, there was Shane, only a few meters away from the area Alex had reserved, watching Jas stack some sand nearby. Sagging in his beach chair, his shirt tight across his gut, he held the usual contraband beer in one hand, an ice cream cone in the other.

It seemed that he could sense their stares, for after a minute, Shane turned to shoot them both dirty looks. Though Emily continued to watch, Achilles looked politely away to remark, “Lots of people from Zuzu, I suppose? College friends?” There hadn’t been too many friendly faces at the party so far—Emily, Haley, Evelyn, and George (two of whom scarcely qualified as friendly faces anyway), plus the Orange Grove receptionist, Megan, who had given him a quick hug upon his arrival.

Emily finally drew her furrowed gaze away from Shane to shrug. “Eh, it’s still early. Abigail and Co. was invited. Maru should be coming, but she’s still at the office, I think. Penny, too… oh, what’d you get him?” She nodded towards the small giftbox in Achilles’ hand. “Heigh ho! Looks like a ring. Thinking of proposing?”

“Yoba, Emily, the man hasn’t even bought me dinner, pump the brakes, will you?” Achilles returned drily, passing her the box with a little toss. “Nah, just some new earbuds… he’d mentioned his had broken.”

Emily closed her eyes as she weighed the box in her hand. “Hmm. I’m sensing some good energy from this.” With a little flourish, she handed it back. “And by that, I’m sensing that you got him the latest Pear Pods.”

“A thing like that, good guess—”

“$200. Pretty damn exorbitant for a guy you’ve known barely half a year, even if you are—”

“Yoba, not this again—all right, listen— ” But unlike Leah back in the Spring, Emily cut him off with a hearty, good-natured laugh as they made their way towards Alex who, at the moment, was surrounded by his Zuzu friends.

“Right. So what did you get him then?”

“Nothing.” Emily gave a disconcertingly Haley-like hmph at Achilles’ furrowed brow. “Well, that’s what the card said.”

“What? What card?”

“You didn’t get an invitation?”

“I don’t think so, he just invited me, I don’t know, verbally.”

“Oh weird, he was making such a big deal out of hand writing them, mailed them out like two weeks ago.”

Oh, so it had been mailed… that explained it. Before the Luau debacle, Achilles had opened his mailbox only once so far this season (in search of another lost package). He had come across a royalty check for Apparition (ridiculous, these were supposed to be directly deposited) and in the subsequent foul mood, had dumped all the mail (including the check) into the bin without a second glance.

Glorious job, you dumb bastard. You don’t bring a gift when you should, you bring a gift when you shouldn’t… stupid mistakes, it shouldn’t be this hard…

He had just decided to shove the wrapped gift back into his windbreaker and slide it to Alex later when they had a more private moment, when Haley, who must’ve seen the bright green bow, pointedly exclaimed, “My, my, my, Achilles, what did you get for our birthday boy?”

Immediately turning red—from rage or embarrassment, he wasn’t quite sure at the moment—Achilles shrugged and had no choice but to walk through the little crowd that had parted, too aware of the curious eyes that followed him.

Approaching the aforementioned birthday boy, Achilles forced a semblance of confidence into his voice. “I apologize, I… did not check my mail and didn’t realize…”

Alex, a paper birthday crown askew on his head, gave him a rather tight half hug, which likely managed to turn Achilles perhaps one shade redder (though luckily, the scarlet, soon-to-be-setting sun disguised the flush). “Nooo! Ash, your presence was supposed to be the present, didn’t you read the card?”

“Well, I’ve already bought it and wrapped it so might as well… open it later will you?” he muttered as he handed it over. “I feel rather stupid now.”

“Sure, sure—thanks, man! You really didn’t have to, though.”

Again, Achilles shrugged, though he at least accompanied this one with a tight smile. Under Haley’s disconcertingly watchful gaze, he made to head back towards Emily, but Alex held him back.

“Wait, let me introduce you! Achilles—Tanya, Leo, James—Megan you already know, of course— they all work with me at Orange Grove. Everyone, this is Achilles! He moved to the valley last month, he’s great.”

Out of habit, Achilles swapped his grimace for the default smile he had once kept reserved for work as he shook everyone’s hands. Tanya he recognized as the haughty brunette who often lifeguarded with Alex. Good to put a name to the face, he supposed.

“You’re the writer,” she said, arching a rather immaculately sculpted eyebrow.

“Ah.” It would be too much effort to correct her. “Sure.”

“Ohhh yeah! Megan mentioned you—Alex was so excited when he found out you were moving to town!” It was Leo, whose curly dirty blonde hair and warm, hazel eyes suggested he must’ve been Megan’s brother.

“I’m glad someone was, you know, he was the only who could pronounce my name correctly…”

It took only a minute for him to get back into the rhythm of conversing with strangers. The Zuzu Crew was (mostly) a friendly bunch, easy to ease into. James was a bit serious, but Megan and Leo were quick to laugh, and Emily soon joined him, replacing Alex who (trailed by Tanya) left to greet Abigail, Sebastian, and Sam.

Hamburgers and hot dogs and potato salad tied them over for an hour, but just as the sun began its descent, someone—to Achilles’ horror—suggested a game of beach volleyball.

Fucking athletic people…

Alex, naturally, was one team captain and James the second. As the two began to rock, paper, scissors for who got first pick of their teammates (Alex staunchly believing it wouldn’t be fair for him to get first pick just because it was his birthday), Achilles scurried over to Emily. Playing with just Abigail, Sam, and Alex was one thing, but in front of all these sporty Zuzu folk? He hadn’t played beach volleyball in probably a decade.

“Are you playing?” he asked.

“Oh yeah!” Seeing the desperation in his eyes, however, she quickly added, “Haley’s not though, if you want to sit with her.”

Haley shot them both a rather disdainful look from the edge of the tiki torch fence.

Soon enough, James had called Emily onto his team (leaving Achilles alone with Haley and, despite not actually wanting to play, slightly offended at having not been picked).

“Oh, are you photographing?” Achilles glanced at the film camera in her hand. “How nice, I always wish I had more physical pictures around.”

“I’ve been photographing,” she sniffed.

Just as Achilles decided Penny would likely make for much better company, he heard his name called.

“Ash! You’re on my team!”

Achilles whipped around. Alex had the volleyball sandwiched under his arm, just like the night of the luau. It was so casual, so unposed, so… simple. So why on earth was it so damn entrancing?

Chill, dude…

“Oh. Or not.” Alex tilted his head, taking in Achilles’ hesitation. “You playing?”

“Yeah, he’s playing.”

Achilles whipped back around to his side. It was Haley who had answered for him. Deadpan, she raised her camera to snap a close-up photo of his tight lipped frown before nodding him towards Alex. “Go on. Go away.”

Well if Alex wanted him…

“You just hate my company that much, huh, Haley?” Achilles didn’t wait for an answer before jogging over to Alex, Tanya, and Abigail’s side of the court.

Sam joined James, Emily, Leo, and Megan, while Maru (who had arrived just in time) rounded out Alex’s team.

It was ultimately a better experience than anticipated. A few haphazard passes and awkward dives notwithstanding, it didn’t take too long for him to get back into some sort of groove—his years playing tennis and fencing had, at the least, honed faster than average reflexes.

Summers he had spent whacking the ball back and forth in the back of his high school friends’ beach houses must’ve whacked a semblance of the game into his muscle memory, and after a few serves (and after getting used to Haley’s persistent camera clicking), one could say he was giving somewhat more than he got.

“Damn Achilles, James should’ve picked you instead of Leo’s lazy ass,” Megan called from the other side after her brother failed to return a spike from Achilles over the net.

Achilles pushed his hair back, surreptitiously wiping sweat from his brow. Did other people just not sweat as much? He risked a quick glance at Alex—how was he reacting to Megan’s praise?—and found the birthday boy grinning widely back at him, his hand raised. He supposed the celebratory high five was an innocent enough reason to smile back.

They won by a margin of two points. To his slight annoyance (a stupid, illogical, annoyance he knew, but he couldn’t help it), he hadn’t been the star player by any means (who knew Abigail was so good at beach volleyball?). But he hadn’t been the worst either (though at least a bruised Maru wasn’t a sore loser, accepting Alex’s sympathetic pat on the back with a cheery nod).

“How the hell are you so good at this? You should join my club team, we practice every week, compete on Thursdays.” It was James, who had sidled up to Abigail as the group made their way back towards the bonfire where Evelyn and George had returned a few minutes ago, a homemade cake in their hands.

“Hey yo! Honestly? No idea. Don’t really spend much time out here.”

“I was wondering that, too, you’re… really pale… great arms, though.”

It was Sebastian who shot James a rather affronted look for that last comment. He gripped an unoffended Abigail’s pale, but apparently muscular, arm protectively, and led her towards the opposite end of the table Haley and him had help set up during the game.

Tanya had taken the place next to Alex, clutching his arm and pulling him rather close. Was there something going on between the two? Surely it wasn’t jealousy Achilles was feeling—he was past that now, and what was there logically to be jealous of, anyway. Maybe he was just hungry…

Haley, Achilles was amused to at least see, was unabashedly rolling her eyes and tutting at the sight as she helped Evelyn set the cake down. Achilles couldn’t help but feel a small flurry of satisfaction watching the blonde, without a trace of shame, shove Tanya to the side under obviously false pretenses of getting a better angle for a photo.

“Happy 25th Birthday, Alex!” Alex read the cheery yellow words aloud and gave his grandma a hug.

One rather pitchy but enthusiastic birthday song later, Alex cut the cake, giving the first piece to Evelyn and the second to George. Achilles—purposefully or not, he would never admit to himself the truth—strayed to the back of the line so that no one was waiting behind him.

“Tanya’s uh, she’s really pretty,” he couldn’t help but say, as Alex cut him a corner piece.

Bitch, why do you even care? Ugh.

“Hmm?” Alex looked over at the brunette who was now in deep conversation with Megan and Leo. Easily in his line of sight, she caught his glance and, with a small bat of her eyelashes, gave a little flutter of her fingers. Alex smiled back. In fact, he looked rather dazed—perhaps some would call it lovestruck—but to Achilles’ surprise, the words that left his mouth were, “Sure! You interested? Happy to wingman.”

“Alex, I’m gay.”

George, who had wheeled over to grab a napkin, gave a tiny start, but Alex didn’t notice.

“Ope. Oh yeah, sorry, I knew that. Forgot…” He set the knife down and licked his fingers.

They turned and looked back at Tanya again, who, now aware she was possibly being watched, flipped her ponytail to her other shoulder to provide a better view of her profile.

“I thought maybe you… were interested?” Achilles asked, carefully watching Alex’s face. Well, you’ve already opened the door, might as well fully commit, you pathetic little bastard…

“Me?”

Achilles speared the vanilla sponge with his fork with more menace than Evelyn’s fluffy recipe deserved. Chill. “Or, at least, she’s definitely interested in you.”

“Tanya? Nah, I don’t think so—”

“My dude.” He swallowed his bite. “She is all over you.”

“That’s just Tanya,” Alex said with a shrug. “She’s been like that since we’ve met.”

“Because she’s always been into you, you dumbass.” Haley had joined the fray. “Though all she’s got going for her is a nice nose…”

“You think so, too?” Alex sounded genuinely surprised.

“Her nose or that she’s into you? Yoba knows why, given how dense you are…”

“Hey now—“

“Shoot your shot, man,” Achilles said. Masochistic little shit, you.

“Do you think I should?”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking you, Haley, I know how you feel—”

“Why are you asking me—”

“—why are you asking him—”

“Well Achilles is the one telling me to do it!”

Haley rolled her eyes and cut herself another slice of cake. “Men. Come on, Alex,” she grasped his arm with her perfectly polished nails and dragged him over to, not Tanya, Achilles noticed, but Abigail.

Which left Achilles alone at the table with Alex’s grandpa.

“George,” Achilles said with his usual nod.

George glanced up. “A gay, huh? How can two men get married?” He began to roll away. “I’ll tell you, it’s unnatural… hmmph. I guess I’m just ‘old fashioned’…”

“Thank you for that, George,” Achilles drily called after him before also gliding over to Abigail. But despite whatever riveting monster history story she was in the middle of telling, Achilles found it suddenly difficult to concentrate.

*****

The party ended an hour or so after cake, on account of Alex’s grandparents and the clouds that were beginning to roll in. The Zuzu folk headed out first. Tanya—who must’ve been emboldened by nothing but the dusk given Alex’s commitment to the beach’s zero alcohol policy—even kissed Alex on the cheek as they bid him farewell and happy birthday, leaving Haley to once again roll her eyes as Alex mouthed a conciliatory, “Ok, I get it,” towards her and Achilles.

Achilles was just about to head out himself, after helping the rest of the Stardew folk clean up the tables, when Alex pulled him aside privately, his grip sending an electric flutter up and down Achilles’ arm.

“Man… you really didn’t have to get me these.” He was holding up the Pear Pods and Achilles’ note written methodically on light green linen cardstock (he’d never admit he had taken inspiration from Mayor Lewis—hey, but who could say Lewis hadn’t taken inspiration form Achilles’ farmhouse paint job). “Seriously, it’s a lot, you shouldn’t have…”

Stumbling over Alex’s wide-eyed, lash-framed gaze, Achilles deflected with a twist of his neck. “Remember, I’m rich, so don’t think this means I think you’re special.”

Alex chuckled. “No, I’m serious, Ash. Thank you. This is… a lot, I feel like I really shouldn’t…” He made a gesture as if to hand them back.

“Well I wasn’t going to get you shitty $30 headphones, might as well not get you a pair at all. You have to invest in the good stuff. If you can. Also,” Achilles pushed the box back into Alex’s hands, his longer fingers closing briefly over Alex’s before he forced himself to let go. “Trying to return a gift without even giving it a chance? Kinda rude, man, how dare you.”

Alex laughed again, and Achilles felt that now-familiar surge of lightning careen up his spine.

Get over yourself! Friends. You’re just friends.

With a breathy sigh, Alex clasped Achilles’ shoulder firmly. “Well… you’ve got me there. All right then. Thanks, man. Really appreciate it.”

“Hey, 25’s a big year. Happy birthday.”

Alex smiled softly, glancing down at the box in his hands again before meeting Achilles’ eyes and grasping his forearm.

“I’m glad you moved here. And, you know, not just because I like your books—”

“No, it’s because I give really good gifts.”

“Nah, it’s actually because you play a mean game of beach volleyball.”

They both laughed, until Achilles, with a quick glance at the sky, made himself pull away. “Well, we better all head back… looks like it might rain in a bit.”

“Hey, you would know, weather boy.”

In standard Stardew fashion, Alex clapped Achilles on the back before jogging back to the remaining villagers to dish out final farewell hugs. Wishing them all another thank you, Alex bid them goodbye and began to push Mr. Old Fashioned George along the sand back to 1 River Road.

*****

Achilles decided he’d take the Cindersap route back home. The volleyball game had invigorated him somewhat, and, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Alex’s thank you even more so. Even Tanya’s clingy presence didn’t do much to dull his rather juvenile glee, especially given Alex’s seemingly lukewarm reaction to the whole affair.

High on the evening’s events, and figuring the rain likely wouldn’t come down for another hour or so, he decided to enjoy a brisk walk through the forest and enjoy his favorite, windy weather before heading back. It was beginning to cool down dramatically as the storm grew closer. Even better. Perhaps he’d stop by Leah’s, if the lights were on. Restless, he was, and eager to share his good mood with someone.

He could still feel Alex’s grip on his arm…

But Leah’s lights were off—either she was out or calling it an early night. Perhaps she was with Elliott… Achilles thought in cheery solidarity.

Instead, he walked along the river with a small bounce in his step, down to the abandoned house by the cliffs. He hadn’t felt this carefree in ages. Amazing what a good night with friends could do to alleviate his recent chronic anxiety. Maybe he’d see if the Wizard was in—wouldn’t mind hearing more about those bad spirits Evelyn had mentioned up in the mountains…

Lost in whatever fanciful thoughts and imagined scenarios with which he’d allowed himself to temporarily indulge, he was caught off guard when the first drops began to fall. No matter, it’d be scarcely a 20 minute jog back home.

But before he could turn back to Strawberry Farms, he heard a groan in the darkness.

“Hello? Who’s there,” he called, shining his phone light around the darkened path. Bears? Wolves? Spirits? “Oh, fuck.”

Sprawled on the ground, half hidden by salmonberry bushes, was Shane. His Joja hat had been tossed to the side and was smeared with dirt. A mass of empty beer cans were crumpled around him—he must’ve been here for awhile.

“Shane? What the fuck, man?”

Achilles knelt down, turning him over. The man groaned again, this time hiccuping as he managed a weak, “I’m sorry.”

“Man, you gotta get up, it’s starting to rain…”

“My life… it’s a pathetic joke… look at me, why do I even try…”

The rain was rapidly beginning to fall harder, and the first flash of lightning tore across the sky. In the brief light, Achilles saw the discarded remnants of even more beer cans and bottles dotting the grass.

“Shane, get up.”

“Only twenty fucking five and already doing more than I ever will…” Shane spat, and it took a moment for Achilles to realize he was talking about Alex. “I wanted to get into sports too, once, you know? But I’m too small and stupid to… to take control of my life… I’m just a p… piece of soiled garbage flittering in the wind…”

Shane burped, and Achilles, not nearly as patient with drunks as Alex had been that Spring night a month ago, weakly slapped Shane in the face in an attempt to sober him up.

“Very poetic, Shane, but we have to go.”

“I’ve been coming here often lately… looking down…”

Achilles glanced over to the cliffs—another streak of lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the drop—and Achilles found his own stomach drop at both the sight and Shane’s words as the gravity of the situation began to fully hit him.

“Here’s a chance to finally take control of my life…” Shane continued to moan, cheek pressed into the mud. “These cliffs… but I’m too scared, too anxious. Just like always…”

“Fuck,” Achilles breathed again. He bent down in an attempt to lift Shane at least to a sitting position, but the man, bloated with beer and misery, was dead weight. He heaved, but Shane only buckled back to his knees. The rain was heavy, pouring down Achilles’ hair, down his face, half-blinding him.

“All I do is work, sleep, and drink… to dull the feelings of self-hatred. Why should I even go on? Tell me… tell me why I shouldn’t roll off this cliff fight now…”

Achilles wiped his face, his head bowed as the drops clattered sharply in his ears, drumming against his windbreaker. “Fuck, Shane…” It was pouring even harder now, the rain quickly soaking through every layer of clothing and washing away any last remnants of his good mood.

“The decision is your own,” he said, shaking his head slowly. Probably the wrong words to say, but he had, historically, always appreciated at the very least the illusion of agency… “You’re right, it fucking sucks. But… people care about you, man. I’m here for you. Jas loves you. Marnie loves you. ”

“Jas…” Shane growled, his voice barely loud enough to be heard above the storm. “She’s probably better off without me… missed her fucking dance recital yesterday because I couldn’t find someone to take my shift…”

“She knows you’re working to help support her,” Achilles argued back, letting whatever words spill out of his mouth, anything to keep Shane lucid and talking. “She loves you, Shane. Remember that.”

“Thanks… I appreciate that, I really do…”

The freezing deluge seemed to be sobering him up slightly, and with Achilles’ help, he finally staggered up.

“Achilles…” he hiccuped through glazed eyes, his arms bracing against Achilles’ sodden shoulders for support. “I think you should take me to the hospital now.”

With no car, and a now dead, wet cellphone, Achilles had no choice but to half-carry the man the two miles out of Cindersap and back to town. He could’ve stopped at Marnie’s—her light was on—but quickly tossed the idea. This wasn’t something he wanted to risk Jas seeing.

It was a long, slow walk, made all the more agonizing by the pouring rain and frigid temperature. So much for Summer. Lightning continued to rip the sky apart, the accompanying thunder near-deafening with each streak, but at least it helped illuminate the otherwise pitch black path.

Achilles was not a weak man, but Shane, while short, was still stocky and on the heavier side, and Achilles was already tired from the earlier volleyball game. Not a few times did they nearly careen into a tree or bush while plodding though the darkness. Every five minutes, they had to pause so that Shane, wheezing and dizzyingly nauseas, could take a brief break. But they finally made it, after a little over one painful hour, outside the hospital.

It had to have been nearly 11pm now—Achilles hammered on Harvey’s door while Shane sat slumped against the awning.

“HARVEY.” Achilles accompanied his fists with a yell, but his voice and furious knocking were lost under the thunder and the relentless rain.

“Just leave me, Achilles,” Shane managed to groan.

“And get indicted for manslaughter, yeah right,”Achilles managed to chatter out between clenched teeth. Yoba, he was soaked straight to the bone, he had only been wearing his windbreaker over a thin, short sleeve button down. His bare legs had turned numb ages ago.

“HARVEY,” he yelled again, holding the doorbell down with an ice cold finger.

He stumbled next door to Pierre’s—perhaps Abigail or someone was downstairs and could give him a phone. But no matter how he rang or pounded, the thunder was much too loud.

Thinking bitterly that Harvey needed a better system in case of emergencies, he once again went back to beating the door and doorbell, when he heard someone else’s voice through the rain.

“What the heck is going on?”

Alex and Dusty were racing across the cobblestones, both wearing bright yellow rain jackets. In his dazed mind, Achilles couldn’t help but hyper fixate on the rubber ducks that dotted Dusty’s little raincoat as the dog tugged his owner along with more strength than he had ever seen the geriatric mutt move.

“Achilles—Shane—? What are you two doing out here, you’re soaked—Dusty was howling his head off like ten minutes ago, wouldn’t stop until I took him outside—”

“Dusty’s got h-h-helluva lot better instincts than H-harvey, that’s for s-s-ure.” Achilles was shivering like mad. “R-ran into Shane at Cindersap, had t-t-o take him to Harvey’s, it’s a l-l-long story—you got a ph-phone?”

Luckily, Alex did have a phone now—an early birthday present from his grandparents—and after one of the longest minutes of his life, Harvey finally wrenched open his front door.

“What in the world—Achilles?” Harvey cried in alarm. The doctor was in his pajamas, but large headphones dangled around his neck.

“It’s Shane, d-doc,” Achilles said, rushing over to lift him up again. Harvey raced outside as well to help him and Alex carry the clammy, comatose man in.

The sudden blast of cold, dry air was nearly as bad as being outside. It took everything in Achilles to brace himself against the air conditioner as the three of them carried Shane to one of the beds at the back of the clinic. Achilles hadn’t even needed to explain the reason for the visit; the downpour hadn’t managed to wash away the thick scent of alcohol still clinging to Shane’s clothes and breath.

Once he was more or less toweled off, Alex left the room with Dusty, giving the remaining three some privacy.

“You’ll want to get changed, Achilles, and get out of those clothes—you can spend the night here if you need,” said Harvey as he quickly went to work on Shane.

Achilles shook his head; the clinic’s artificial cold had joined the rain in seeping into his bones. “I think I’d rather head back—just… t-take care of him?”

Harvey, who was swiftly setting up an IV, only nodded.

Achilles shook the water from his hair and stepped back outside before immediately wondering if he had made a mistake. But the door had locked behind him, and Harvey had been laser focused on Shane—probably best not to turn back around and disturb the doctor from the one who actually deserved his attention.

Taking a deep breath, he braced his aching body under the awning for one last sprint into the rain, when Alex suddenly popped up from around the side.

“Everything okay? Come back to my place, it’s closer—”

“Nah, it’s your birthday, man, and your grandparents—”

“Dammit, Ash, it’s a 10 second sprint. Come on.”

Dusty joined Alex in protest, pawing Achilles’ leg. At that moment, a north wind chose to slice through the air, sending rain and a freezing breeze towards him even from under the awning. Right. He’d take that as a sign—nodding, he sprinted alongside Alex and Dusty the couple hundred feet to 1 River Road.

*****

The AC luckily was not on at the Muller’s—thank Yoba for George and his achy joints…

Alex unclipped Dusty and gave him a thorough pat down with a rubber duck embroidered towel. The beagle mutt gave a slow shake and padded softly down the hall to Alex’s room.

“I can j-j-just… warm up here a b-bit and wait for the rain to d-d-die d-down,” Achilles heaved, unzipping his windbreaker and immediately regretting the cold that somehow snaked its way in.

“That rain’s not dying down anytime soon. Just stay the night, you can take a hot shower in my room, let me grab you something to drink — ”

“No, it’s all right, it’s your b-birthday. I’ll just air dry, stay on the c-couch, won’t be a m-minute—“

“Achilles, just shut up, man. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.” Alex rubbed his hands down Achilles’ violently shivering arms—the impatient touch was much different from the ones earlier this evening, though Achilles was too numb to hyper-fixate over it regardless—and led him to his room. “Besides, we don’t even have a couch…”

He motioned for Achilles to take a seat at the desk chair, grabbed some items from the closet, and quickly popped into the bathroom.

“Left a towel for you in there and clothes—go ahead, I’m just going to tell grandma you’re here so she’s not confused.”

In Alex’s bathroom, Achilles stripped out of his sopping clothes with some degree of difficulty— they coldly clung like a second skin—and jumped into the shower, supremely grateful for the steaming water.

The shirt Alex had left behind had a badger on it. “Andrews” was emblazoned on the back, above some faded permanent marker signatures. His dad’s last name. Must’ve been from his high school swimming days.

When he came out, Alex was nowhere to be found. Toweling off his hair, he looked again at the bodybuilder pictures, the grid ball wallpaper, the plastic sports trophies, the children’s books—a time capsule of a 12 year old boy. Only the massive weights in the corner hinted that a 25 year old man lived in this room.

He took the seat by the desk again and examined the picture of Alex and his mother. She had also had brown hair, and there was something in her frozen smile that reminded Achilles of Alex’s. Her eyes, however, were blue. Not green… oh, what a glorious shade of green… he could feel himself nodding off… Every muscle in his body was sore, screaming for him to lie down. Oh, what he’d give for the heated mattress in his farmhouse…

He must’ve fallen asleep, for he nearly fell out of the chair with a jolt when Alex came back into the room.

“Just told Grandma you’re here,” he whispered, shutting the door softly. He glanced at Achilles who was dangling half-off the desk chair. “You can sit on the bed, you know.”

Achilles took the cup of tea Alex offered him. Lavender earl grey.

Fuck, you really are perfect…

“Everything okay with Shane?”

With a guilty start, Achilles remembered what had brought him here in the first place. Though he supposed, in his defense, he was feeling rather muddled in the head now. “Ah. Shane. Yes. He’s… I don’t know. He’s not in a good place.”

“Mmm…”

Neither was eager to say more. Achilles gulped down the tea faster than he would’ve liked to fill the silence; he was ready to keel over.

“Here…” Alex took the empty cup and nodded towards the bed. “Go on, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Huh? Uh… also on the bed. I mean, if that’s ok with you… if not, I’m happy to roll out the sleeping bag…” Alex had looked surprised at the question, and Achilles turned red.

“No, no, sorry, yeah, that’s fine, of course…”

He clambered awkwardly across the red duvet, pulling the covers down as Alex went to brush his teeth. Alex sure slept with a lot of pillows… he placed the body pillow in the center, before wondering if that was too aggressive, too presumptuous, and set it against the headboard. Instead, he scooted as far over to the edge as possible—although there was plenty of room with the full sized bed—and, despite being a back sleeper, turned so that he was facing the nightstand.

Blinking back sleep, he forced himself to wait until he felt the weight of Alex’s body join him on the mattress before finally closing his eyes.

“Some birthday huh,” he murmured as Alex turned off the lights.

“Eh, I’ve had crazier ones.” But Alex didn’t expand. He rolled over to face Achilles’ back and gave it a little poke. “Man, this takes me back to grid ball camp… you better not hog the sheets.”

“Don’t worry, I sleep hot…”

Fuck. Of course. Definitely muddled in the head. Achilles nearly groaned aloud as the realization washed over him. Alex had been an athlete. Sharing a bed had none of the subtext for him that it had had for Achilles, who had never had to share a bed in his life if he hadn’t wanted to—the schools and camps he had attended would never have needed to have the kids share a room, that was for sure. Adolescent sleepovers? Guest rooms and temporary mattresses galore.

Nevertheless, Achilles didn’t trust himself to turn around. With his luck tonight, he’d probably sneeze in Alex’s face. Or worse. But he could feel the other boy’s body heat from under the covers, and it took everything in him not to turn. Not to look, for even just a second.

He’s just your friend… you need to get over this ridiculousness.

He figured he’d doze off just as quickly as he had at the desk, but it was quite awhile after Alex’s breathing slowed (and Dusty’s snores erupted) before his idiotic nerves settled and he was finally able to fall asleep.

#llnks #sunspraypeak #stardew fanfic #sdv fanfic #stardew valley alex #stardew valley oc #sdv farmer #alex sdv

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