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cherryyharryy · 3 years

Note

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

#Harry styles requested #Harry styles requests #requests #request #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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kurlyfrasier · 3 years

Text

A Tramp for a Lady

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: You’re a sister to all but one. He’s done all he can to hide that fact from you, but you’ve decided that you’re done being his sister.

Warnings: Implied intercourse and mention of sexual assault, nothing explicit though. A tiny bit of cursing? I’m just gonna go ahead and rate this PG-13. Usually I like to keep it family friendly, but this one is not quite so family friendly. There’s also a comment about how reader dresses like a lady; please don’t be offended by the old-school ‘lady’ comment, we can dress however we want and still be a lady.

Word Count: 4156

Raph was greener than his own skin with envy. He had met you years ago. Before they saved the city. Before the city knew who saved them. Before the world knew mutants existed. Before mutants were accepted.

It surprised him, honestly, how most of humanity accepted mutants, especially him and his brothers. Now they were the best personal security money could buy. Yeah, they still did patrol and kept the streets as clean as they could, but when the idea hit that him and his family could start making some good money and get a home topside- out of the smelly sewers and off the second-hand furniture- Raph’s mind went wild with ideas of how they could be more than shadows. Turtle Security was his best idea. He did research and got the okay from his father- even got permission to lead. It was his idea and his business, so Splinter said he would be in charge and held responsible for everything pertaining to Turtle Security.

His first stop to start his business was Donnie. He needed his own computer. Something he could use for most of his interactions and something that would work for security cameras. It helped that Donnie said he would help with anything he needed and that it sounded like a good plan. His second stop was Mikey. His youngest brother needed something to do besides skating around the tunnels all day now that he was tired of all the topside attention everywhere he went. As expected, Mikey was up for keeping people safe and getting paid for it. Leo was his last stop. He needed a second in command, especially if he got double-booked. Raph figured most of the work he might end up with would only need himself and one other (if that), but thought if his business thrived more than he was thinking it would, then maybe the four of them could work together- depending on how much security a person deemed themselves worthy of.

It barely took a few months for his business to thrive. Word spread fast through New York City, especially when it was well known they saved the city. Raph had morals though, and would never accept business from anyone who deserved what was coming to them.

Tonight (a few years later and a spacious home topside), Turtle Security was in charge of keeping a drunk idiot from being harmed by his father’s enemies. The guy’s name was Roger Vance and he would not stop talking to you, flirting with you, and touching you. Nothing that would be cause to break his hand: an arm around your shoulders, a hand gently resting on your back, moving your hair out of your eyes- things like that. But Raph hated it. You deserved better than a trust fund kid.

To Leo, Donnie, and Mikey you were the little sister they adored, but to him you were so much more. You were his light in the darkness, his Northern Star, his- well, to put it frankly- you were his reason for living. Every day he looked forward to your smile. Every day he wanted to hear you laugh. A day without you was a day without the sun.

But he had never told you that and he never would. You were the perfect lady and he was a tramp. You had said so yourself. Yeah, you were probably joking about it and yeah, he was using other women to keep you off his mind- not that it worked. When he looked at them, he saw your face. When he slept with them, he thought of you. When the next morning arrived, the guilt ate up his soul- what little he had left of it anyway.

He always played the gentlemen; hating the thought of any girl taking the “walk of shame” down his halls. He refused to allow anyone to call it that and therefore always bought them breakfast and a ride home. He wasn’t dumb. He knew he was just a notch on their bedpost more than anything. Sleeping with a mutant was something to brag about apparently, but he felt he needed to take advantage of that. Anything that could possibly get you off his mind, even if it was only a moment. Or maybe it was just to fulfill his sick fantasy of you and him together. Either way, it wasn’t working very well.

Why you had decided to go to the very bar he had to follow this numbskull to was beyond him. With a clenched jaw, he looked away from you and Roger, scanning his surroundings. He doubted anyone would try to make the jump on Roger at this place. It seemed...relaxed, for the most part. The place was fairly large, tables made from a rich mahogany to match the bar. The walls gave a warm, relaxed feel and tonight there was a jazz band playing on stage in front of the dance floor where people were dancing- really dancing. Not the fun hip-hop, dirty, or breakdancing kind. But the kind where the man twirled the girl and they face each other, stepping in time with the music. Your favorite kind. More than ballet, the dancing you got paid to do.

Raph had to stop himself from growling as he imagined dancing with you. He had taken lessons immediately after you had asked him to dance one night (on your twenty-first birthday, no less). He refused, not wanting to embarrass himself, so you danced with Mikey instead. Who made you laugh as he stepped on your toes. But you were a patient teacher and Mikey gobbled up the attention from his favorite sister. You had never asked him to dance again and he regretted ever refusing anything you asked of him.

Roger whispered something in your ear, forcing Raph to step in your direction in case the idiot took it a little too far. You noticed his movement and met his gaze determinedly, fire in your eyes. He stumbled. You had been doing that a lot lately; daring him to interrupt whatever you were doing. A second later your hardened gaze melted as you looked at Roger with a smile, nodding at whatever he had said.

Then you were both headed to the dance floor. Raph couldn’t help but follow your swaying hips underneath that red dress- his color red. Blood red. The top half fit like a second skin while the skirt fell loosely around your waist to halfway down your thighs. He didn’t even want to think about how low your V-neckline was- not that it was showing much, you dressed like a lady, after all. The straps tied around your neck, leaving your back bare. He knew your hair hid the cute bow he would find there if he were to untie-

“Ow! Sis is lookin’ good tonight,” Mikey voiced excitedly over the comm.

“Should we be worried?” Donnie asked warily. He was scouting the block around the bar while Leo stayed up on the rooftops in case something happened.

“If that bastard touches her-”

“Relax, guys,” Raph cut Leo short in an attempt to calm himself just as much as his brother. “He hasn’t done anythin’ disrespectful.”

“Yet,” Leo growled the very same thought Raph was having.

“Dudes, let her have some fun, geez.” The brothers could hear Mikey’s eyeroll. Raph, on the other hand, witnessed his brother roll his eyes from across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight was the night you were going to force Raph to see what he was missing out on. You had gone over to your brothers’ home that morning and easily got Donnie to spill the beans about who their client has been lately. It was perfect. Better than you thought was possible, really.

Roger Vance was about your age and was apparently a regular at Nightly Notes, a bar downtown just a couple of train stops down from your apartment. So, with a skip in your step and mischievous smirk on your lips, you said your goodbyes after breakfast- not wishing to stumble upon whoever was about to step out of Raph’s room- and found yourself wearing the new dress you got to pique Raph’s interest. There was no doubt in your mind that it would catch your favorite terrapin’s eye- the dress was in his favorite color, after all.

It was all too easy to catch Roger’s attention, especially after telling the bartender you wanted to buy the man a drink. You wanted to cringe. Roger had nothing on Raph. He was a complete moron, smelled like nasty old man cologne, and felt greasy every time he touched you. But you had to stay strong. You were on a mission. One you had been fighting for years.

When you were younger, around ten years ago, you fell into an open man-hole, twisting your ankle when you landed wrong. You had run away from the foster home in a panic. The man- if one could call him that- had touched you in places nobody should ever touch a girl. At least, that’s what your mom had told you before the accident when you were young. So you ran with nothing but the clothes on your back. You were still unsure of how you even dodged his slimy hands that day. All you knew was that you were never going back.

It wasn’t much longer when your brothers found you. They were shocked, to say the least, but welcomed you with open arms for the most part. Even Splinter, who you still called ‘dad’ to this day. Raph, on the other hand, was a different story. He wasn’t with the others when they found you. In fact, that’s why they were heading topside, because they meant to go looking for Raph. Apparently he had been gone for a couple of days and they had gotten worried.

They became the family you thought you were never going to have again. They made sure you got back into ballet. To this day, you still had no idea how they paid for those lessons, or if they even did. They made sure you got an education just like all the other kids- they followed you to and from school every day. They took care of you during your first period. They coddled you during your first break-up and all the others after- not that there were very many. They helped you get into a specialty arts school for ballet. They congratulated you for every little proud moment you had and always bought you flowers for every rehearsal. They were always at the first night’s rehearsal. Even Raph. He was the one that made sure you could defend yourself. He was the one that got you your apartment close to the studio you danced at, saying it was time you had your own space. Time you didn’t have four giant, over-protective brothers holding you back from having a real life. He wanted the best for you, they all did. So, you accepted the keys to your apartment with feigned excitement, not wanting to hurt his feelings. Especially since he made sure you were topside before they were.

But he didn’t know you loved him. That you didn’t want to be anywhere else but with him- all day, everyday. You planned to change that tonight, though. Tonight you were going to push all of his buttons. Out of each of the boys, he was the most protective.

Your only worry was that this could give Turtle Security a bad rep if Raph lost his cool. Which didn’t happen as often as it used to, now that you had all grown. He owned his own company for goodness sakes! So he had learned to keep a level head. Had learned how not to let his emotions rule him. You were so proud of him for that. When you had first met him, his temper was what scared you the most, but you soon learned that underneath that rough exterior he felt he had to make sure his family was safe from all harm. That kind of pressure on a teenager was too much. It didn’t help that he felt he was never good enough. That he thought of himself as a failure. You hoped now that he didn’t still feel that way. He owned the most sought after personal security money could buy and still, he found time to patrol the streets- for free, without asking for anything in return.

You idolized Raph for a couple of years once you figured out who he really was. Now, you hoped you didn’t disappoint him with what you had planned. Roger had finally asked you to dance, although you wondered if he would be able to without stumbling. You had let him touch your hands, tuck your hair behind your ear, rest his hand on your back. It was hard not to gag at his beer-tinged breath. You hated that smell. It reminded you of the foster home you ran away from. But you had to play your part and so far you felt you were playing it perfectly.

When you glanced at Raph, his fists were clenched and his jaw ticked. His steps were heavy and purposeful. He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t seem like he was worried about security as his eyes flitted all over the place, barely looking in your direction. You had seen him on the job before. You knew he always had an eye on his client. Normally, he wouldn’t be more than one step away from his client when he played the part of bodyguard, but not tonight. He had stepped several feet away when he saw Roger sit next to you. You assumed it was to give you privacy. He never did like to be in the same room as you when you had a boy over- after the world found out they existed, anyway. Before that he would always leave the room when you spoke of the opposite sex. But when you came home crying he was the first one to grab the ice-cream and chick flicks. And he was always the one you wanted to snuggle up to during those times. During any time, really. He was warm, smelled like home, and made you feel safer than any of the others did. Logically, you knew they would all die for you and could protect you better than anyone else, but with Raph you knew that he would never let anyone touch a hair on your head without your say so and that made your insides all gooey.

It was time for step two as Roger danced with you. You were surprised he was a decent dancer. He spun you out and back into his arms, holding you close for a few beats as he breathed you in, causing an involuntary shiver. When you faced each other once again you slyly lowered his hand down to your bottom, making sure Raph and Mikey didn’t see. Thankfully, that very moment, Raph had his back to you as he spoke to his brother, but you knew it wouldn’t be more than another second before he turned around. Still, you breathed in a calming breath as Roger pulled you closer, squeezing your cheek. You told yourself you wouldn’t have to deal with him much longer as you led him in a position where you could see Raph out of the corner of your eye and he would see Roger’s hand on you. Your nerves buzzed in excitement. Lucky for him, worry for his life wasn’t a huge concern since he was the client. Which is why he was your target.

“Mr. Vance,” the gravelly Brooklyn accent was barely contained. “Ya need ta remove yer hand from the lady.”

“What?” Roger scrunched his face up at Raph. “Is she a threat?”

Raph towered over us and you felt Roger shake in fear. You would have smiled, feeling happy to have Raph so close, but you needed to keep a straight face.

“No,” he ground out.

“Then I’d like to keep dancing with this pretty lady, thanks,” Roger pretended bravado, attempting to sway as if he was still dancing with you, but Raph didn’t move an inch.

“Sorry,” Raph gently lifted you by the waist and set you down behind him, effectively situating himself between Roger and yourself. His hand print still felt hot on your skin. “But tha’s my sista’ yer touchin’.”

The word sister broke your heart and had your blood boiling all at the same time. You didn’t want to be his sister. You wanted a different kind of love from him. Tonight he was supposed to see how pretty you had become. How sexy you are. That you weren’t his sister, but someone he would feel compelled to kiss and touch and breathe in like you were currently doing. He smelled of leather and metal and spice.

“I-I see,” It was at that moment you knew Roger was a coward. Or maybe Raph was truly that scary, you weren’t sure which. Roger didn’t ask how it was possible that you were siblings. He didn’t protest when Raph pulled you away. He didn’t even try to hold on to you. He let go so fast you wondered if he was truly even interested. Granted, he had had a few beers by then and you had no way of knowing how well he held his alcohol.

“Michelangelo will escort ya home, sir. Ya seem tired,” Raph directed Roger toward a confused looking Mikey with an outstretched arm. You stayed silent as your eyes followed them out the door, giddy for what you hoped to happen next.

“Come on,” Raph growled out as he grabbed your wrist and tugged out to the back door that led to an alley.

A small smile played at your lips that you struggled to hide once Raph rounded on you.

“What do ya think yer doin’?” He crossed his arms, staring you down, emerald eyes hard as stone.

“Dancing,” you shrugged and played with your nails, as if you went to bars every night to go dancing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ya know I don’t like it when ya with us on a job, y/n,” Raph stated, waiting for an explanation from you. He hated having you near any possible danger. And that’s what his job was; dangerous. The whole point of it was to keep whoever was paying them safe from danger that might be after them. How would he be able to protect you and the client if something happened? He doubted he could do both and knew exactly who he would choose. Consequences be damned.

“How am I supposed to know where the job takes you?” Your e/c eyes dared to make contact with his own, nearly knocking him to his knees. He loved your eyes, they always had a spark to them, even when you were scared for your life. You thought he wasn’t there when you fell into the sewers that day, but he was the one that opened it for you. He was the one that followed you as you ran. He was the one that went back to beat the guy to a pulp once you were safe underground.

“I’m sure ya convinced one of yer brothas ta tell ya.”

“And if I did?” You sassed, a hand on your hip.

Raph visibly gulped, trying not to remember how good your hips felt in his hands. How his hands fit perfectly around your waist. How easily he could throw you over his shoulder and take you home. Home, where he could put something more appropriate on you- like one of his shirts.

He was going to lose it.

“Are ya tellin’ me ya put yerself in danger on purpose?”

“I wouldn’t be in danger, even if there was danger!” Your arms flailed at your sides, voice raised as you took a step closer. So close he could smell you. He tightened his hold on his biceps to keep from pulling you into his chest so he could breathe you in better.

“What makes ya think that, huh? Ya could get hurt if somethin’ were ta happen,” Raph tried to reason with you. You had to know that he would have to choose who to protect and you had to think he would choose the client.

“‘Cause you’re there, Raph. You wouldn’t ever let anything happen to me,” you said, voice steadier- and so very confident- than he expected after your outburst moments ago. Your words had Raph’s heart soaring to know you thought so highly of him, but he needed to quash that.

“I have ta protect the client, y/n. Ya know this,” Raph whispered the last bit, wishing he didn’t have to convince you that you should be second when he was on a job. You weren’t second. You would never be second. You were first, where you were meant to be. You would always be first.

“Pfft,” you scoffed before muttering that Mikey was there. That he could protect the client. And that caught Raph’s attention.

“Ya don’t seem very concerned for someone ya were just flirtin’ up, Shorty.” His eyes squinted down at you in suspicion.

“Why would I be?” You shrugged, looking down at your nails again- a sign that you were hiding something. “Not like I liked him or anything,” you muttered.

“That’s not wha’ it looked like ta me,” Raph gently guided your chin up with his finger, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Good,” you huffed out, happy something was actually coming out of what you had planned.

“Good? Why were ya pretendin’ if ya don’t even like the guy? That’s not like ya, y/n.” Raph almost stumbled backwards at the glassy look in your eyes. Were you crying?

“To show you how pretty I am,” a tear ran down your face.

“I already know ya pretty-”

“To prove to you that I’m not that fourteen year old girl that ran from the foster home,” another tear rolled down your cheek, shattering his heart. He didn’t understand. He knows you’re beautiful. He knows you’re not fourteen anymore. He’s known that for a long time. Too long, really.

“I know ya not-”

“That I’m sexy, Raph!” You ripped your chin out of his gentle grip, turning away.

Now he understood. At least, he thinks he understood. And the thought shook him to his core. His heartbeat thundered in his chest and he worried that you would hear it. He didn’t dare breathe. This was the moment he never let himself think was possible.

“I hate those women you take home,” your tiny voice reminded him to breathe. Reminded him that he wasn’t dreaming. That you were here, confessing something he didn’t think was possible. “I want to be in that bed- your bed. I want you to hold me. I-”

Raph couldn’t take it anymore- not another second. You didn’t know what you meant to him, but you were about to as he roughly pushed you against the brick of the building, making sure his hand was behind your head. He didn’t want it to bump against the brick. There was no way he was going to let anything bump that pretty little head of yours. Once he knew you wouldn’t be hurt by his rough-handling he leaned down to meet you at eye-level, forcing you to meet his gaze with his hands on either side of your head, blocking you against the wall. He wasn’t about to chance you walking away.

“Ya think I don’t find ya sexy?” He kissed the skin on your shoulder.

“Ya think I like callin’ ya my sista’?” He gently brushed your hair away to trail kisses up your neck, making your breath hitch.

“Ya think I enjoy those women I take home?” He kissed across your jaw from one ear to the other.

“Who do ya think I’m envisioning as they lay under me?” He whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver.

Your knees buckled, but he caught you before you moved more than a couple of inches and held you steady. You were panting as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. You had to make sure this was real. So you held onto him as he rubbed little circles on your hips. You knew those strong hands could hold you forever and you wouldn’t ever want to move. You could barely believe what you were hearing. You tried wrapping your head around what he said. Was your dream finally coming true? Did Raph really see you that way? Your heart skipped a beat before you finally gained the courage to ask.

“Who?” You whispered, answering all of his questions with one of your own.

“You,” he nibbled your earlobe. “It’s always been you, Gorgeous.”

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

A/N: If you can think of something better than “Turtle Security” please let me know...or we can just pretend Raph has no creativity for naming things lol Up to you. But seriously, tell me if you think of something. Anything is better than what I came up with lol

#tmnt #fanfic #raph x reader #aged up #my writing #security #topside #mikey #donnie #leowomen #splinter #reader #tmnt fanfic #angst #happy #cute #sister #bodyguard

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Hey! For your monster prompts, maybe Fae indruck? Either nsfw or sfw is cool ✌🏻💕✨

Here you go! I went with NSFW

When the sun sets over the Monongahela, Lake Greenbriar becomes a sky burning with stars. The woven crowns, strung through ash leaves for men or rowan leaves for women, each bear four small candles which flicker in the twilight as they bob on the water. If they sink, their owners will return home alone. If they make it to another part of the shore, the one who picks them up and the one who set them afloat are meant to be together.

By the time darkness cloaks the trees, all but one of the crowns is sunk or retrieved. Duck Newton sits on the shore, skipping stones across the black water.

This happens every. Goddamn. Year.

He makes his crown, he sets it on the lake, and it floats aimlessly until the candles go out. It doesn’t sink, and no one ever picks it up. Two years ago, when he was allowed to weave ash leaves instead of rowan into it, he thought that might fix the issue. No such luck.

It’s not that Duck is hoping to find his true love; every one knows that the Festival of Floating Light is an excuse to hook-up in the woods with no repercussions. Kepler is strange like that. Sex is private, unless there’s a an ancient ritual involving boning down in public, in which case it must be observed every year.

That’s not the only strange thing about his home, far from it, but as moans and cries of pleasure punctuate the darkness it’s the one on his mind.

He’s contemplating whether to go home when his crown changes course, floating purposefully to a point diagonal from him. Lo and behold, a figure picks it up, and there’s a flash of silver as they lift it. But instead of moving towards him, they turn into the woods.

“Man, what the fuck?” He grumbles, getting to his feet and running towards the dimming candles, staying on the shore to avoid tripping over an amorous couple hidden in the trees. Duck catches up to the mysterious figure just as they pass into a clearing, moonlight spilling onto the grass around them.

“Y’know, real rude to turn your back on your true love.” He teases.

A rustle of fabric as the figure turns and Duck bites back a frustrated groan. Standing before him is a man with silver hair, faintly glowing red eyes and, god help him, short, feathery antennae. He smiles wide, showing teeth just sharp enough to be worrying.

Six years of waiting, and the first person to get his crown is a fucking fae.

“That seems rather forward.” The fae cocks his head, “I was of the understanding this night was for more, ah, casual activities.”

“I was, uh, just goofin around. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize for such a jest. Here” tan arms offer the crown back to him, “I came to observe, not participate. I was running late at that, and thus thought I would see the lake empty. Only this remained and when it came to me I assumed it’s owner had long since given up.”

“Uh, thanks.” He blows out the candles, not wanting to start a forest fire, “yeah. This same thing happens to me every year. Don’t stop me from waitin until the last moment, hopin it’ll be different.”

The fae looks at Duck’s feet, gaze slowly moving up his body with an unreadable smile.

“I know many consider this festival a mere game, rather than true magic, and you are the proof” red eyes lock onto his face, “Such a handsome man is left floating year after year? No decent magic would allow that.”

Duck knows that fae flirt with humans all the time, that people come back with stories of being bewitched until the member of the Unseen Court had their fill. But this one seems too earnest for that.

No sooner does he think this then the fae steps back, “Oh, ah, apologies, I did not mean to alarm you with my compliment. You need not fear trickery from me, Duck Newton, I promise.”

“Uh, my, my name ain’t, uh, fuck, my names really Way-, no, no uh. Fuck.”

“Do not worry. I am a seer, and thus learned your name by following your futures. But magic has odd ways about it; because I can learn others' names with ease, I cannot use them for any sort of spell or binding.”

“Thank fuck.”

The fae snickers, then bows, “Indeed. You may call me Indrid,”

“Indrid. Right. Uh, well, been nice meetin you Indrid, but I’m gonna head back into town.”

“You wish to return to a lonely bed and a night of disgruntled dreams?” Indrid raises an eyebrow.

“N-ye-uh, fuck, I mean, what else am I gonna do?”

“You could stay with me awhile. I would offer a meal, but I foresee you being wary of it and, honestly, that speaks to prudence on your part. Fae are fae, after all. What else do you like doing at night?” He sounds excited, as if he wants nothing more than to indulge Duck’s most mundane fantasies.

“I like stargazin.” Duck mumbles, certain the fae will leave rather than stay and listen to him babble.

A wave of the hand and a thick, green blanket covers the ground. The fae sits down with less grace than expected, flopping onto his back with a sigh. Cautiously, Duck joins him. As he lays back, a pillow forms to cushion his head.

Crickets call near their heads. Duck likes silence, but a growing part of him wants to talk more with Indrid. He points to a cluster of stars, “There’s the Great Ship. Always did like that one.”

“You know, we call that The Pine. But now that you say it, I can see the ship as well.” Indrid’s finger traces lines through the air.

“Huh, never occurred to me y’all would see different things. What about...that one. Cygnus.”

“It seems we both saw something avian. To me, that is The Crane.”

The trade constellations for a time, then move on to their experiences in the woods. Their conversation chases away Duck’s nerves, and soon they’re shoulder to shoulder, the human pointing out a particularly notable Spruce. When he lowers his arm, the backs of their hands bump together. Duck turns his hand, an offering to the stranger direction the night is taking. Cool fingers link with his, and he swears Indrid purrs at the contact.

“Can’t wait to write a friend of mine about this. He’s jealous that I live somewhere so fuckin weird.”

“I take it ‘weird’ is not something you enjoy?”

“I mean, there’s nothin wrong with it. But things like spells and prophecies, magical destinies, leylines, Unseen Courts, they ain’t something I want to stick my finger into. But uh” he squeezes Indrid’s hand, afraid he’ll get the wrong idea, “there are some parts of it I don’t mind.”

The conversation turns towards fate and Indrid’s misadventures trying to get people to heed his visions. A lull hangs between them just as a moan curls towards them from far off in the woods.

“Jesus, thought folks’d be done by now.”

“Perhaps they got a second wind. Or are making use of the darkness to do things they would not otherwise have the courage to ask for.”

Another moan and Duck shifts, uncomfortable with the fact the noises turn him on. He wants to focus on Indrid, not on his low-level, frustrated boner.

“It appeals to you, doesn’t it? These dalliances in the trees?”

“I mean yeah. Some of us like to touch as well as look, mister just-here-to-observe.”

Indrid lightly whacks Ducks’ thigh, “I told you, I came to see the lights on the lake. They sound captivating. That being said, I am not opposed to doing the, ah, traditional activity with you. But my visions suggest that would be too much.”

“It would, at least so soon after meetin you.” It’s the safest option, and he hates it.

Indrid drums his fingers on the blanket, “Ah ha! What about kissing?”

“Hell yeah” Duck rolls onto his side, Indrid mirroring him. The fae strokes his cheek, but does nothing else, waiting for Duck to initiate. He’s glad to, leaning in to press an exploratory kiss to cool lips. Indrid chirps softly as he returns the gesture, and Duck moves his hand to caress his cheek and play with the starfall silver of his hair. Curves his fingers down Indrid’s neck, chuckling when the fae teases his lower lip with concentrated kisses.

“AHhnnnnrrrrrrr” It’s half chirp and half purr.

“Fuck, sorry, thought you just had a scarf on.” Duck starts pulling his hand away from the ruff of dark feathers around Indrid’s neck, only for the fae to grab his hand and press it deeper.

“NoOoo” he wiggles closer, hooking an ankle over Ducks calf, “that is divine, please, touch it as much as you like.”

“It’s so fuckin soft” He pets the down, gets that same chirp followed by a flurry of kisses on the cheek.

“My k-kind come in many form. Mine is uncommon, some would even say offputting due to it’s commonalities with moths.”

“Bullshit. Wait, does this mean you have win--HOLY fuck, I thought that was a cloak!” He lays there, stunned, as Indrid sits up and extends two night skies from his back. The wings, pitch black, dusted with hundreds of small, pearlescent spots are the most beautiful sight Duck’s ever seen.

“A common mistake. Do you like their coloration? It is very handy if I wish to go for a night flight to clear my mind.”

“It’s incredible Indrid. Can I touch them?”

A playful smile, “Why, Duck Newton, first you come to me professing to be my true love and then ask to touch my wings. You move far too fast for a shy fae like myself.”

“Ohhh, is it a sex thing?”

“To a degree. Perhaps in the future I will permit you to touch them. Speaking of which” he lays back on his side, waves a hand in the air above Duck’s bound chest, ‘am I correct that you want me to steer clear of this part of you.”

“Uh huh. Wish you could touch a little more of me, but the damn things are hard to get rid of.”

“Of course. In that case” his hand skates over Duck’s side, pushing on his lower back to bring them closer, “I shall explore all the other parts of you that you will allow.”

Duck stays on the blanket until dawn peers over the horizon. In that time they trade touches of gentle desire and kisses that grow more fiery with each hour. At times they stop to lay in each others’ arms, Duck explaining how, if he had his way, he’d be like the fae forest stewards, watching over the woods and helping them grow. It’s with reluctance and his fingers carding through Indrid’s ruff that he says it’s time for him to go unless he wants a search party from Kepler to come looking for him.

Indrid stands, helping Duck up but not letting go of his hand, “I foresee my court duties requiring a great deal of time for the next few months but when I do have time, ah, if you are amenable, I would like to meet with you again.”

Duck brings his hand to his lips, kissing it, “I’ll see you then, ‘Drid.”

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

What nobody tells you about magic rituals is that there’s a fuck-ton of waiting. Duck’s been on his back on this fucking stone slab for at least a half hour and, depending on the whims of the Unseen Court, could be here even longer.

At the exact midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice sits the Green Marriage Ceremony. The belief is that the ceremony not only ensures bountiful fields, but ongoing peace between humans and fae. Any residents of Kepler who are of age and unmarried put their names into a bowl, and one is selected to fulfill the human side of consummating the “marriage.” In the old days it was mandatory to accept if selected, but the fae now insist that the participant be willing. This year, Duck was the chosen one.

He accepted for two reasons: one was that, once you’re selected, your name is taken out of the running in the future, and why not get the weirdness over with when he can. The other was that he hopes whoever the fae send will be willing to take a message back to Indrid to let him know Duck still wants to see him.

So here he is, in a white shirt and loose, green shorts, at the center of a stone slab the size of a wealthy mans bed. White curtains form a tent around the slab, flowers strewn about and an unlit lantern hanging from the center of the ceiling. Juno helped him get the required flowers into his hair, (“gotta help you out how I can because Duck, I love ya, but I ain’t gonna hang around and listen to you get fucked”).

He’s not nervous. It’s not an actual marriage, just a symbolic one. The fact that he’s supposed to spend from now until sunset enacting a wedding night with a fae sounds exhausting, but assuming the fae isn’t a dick it should at least be fun. He’s heard horror stories about the human participant disappearing at the end, but that hasn’t happened since his grandfather was young.

The whispers outside the tent change, more earnest than idle, which means the fae have arrived. He has no idea how many come along with their chosen participant; like Juno he’d rather not hang around while someone he knows gets fucked for eight hours, no matter how great the food and games at the festival are.

A swoosh of fabric has him sitting up on his elbows to see who his partner will be.

“Oh” sighs a familiar voice, “I did so hope I was in this timeline.”

“Indrid” He sits up all the way. His fae is draped in flowing silver robes, which he doffs to reveal an outfit that matches Duck’s.There’s no hesitation as he joins him on the “bed,” waving his hand so the stone disappears beneath a thick, moss-colored blanket.

“My, my, they left me the most handsome husband imaginable. Lucky me.” He purrs, straddling Duck and leaning down to kiss his cheeks.

“H-how’d you end up with this gig?”

“The same way you did; pure chance. I saw you in most futures, though in some you decided to withdraw at the last moment. I am glad you did not.”

“No fuckin kiddin.” Duck grabs his head with both hands, pulling him into a kiss that spins sparks up and down his spine. When they part Indrid sits back, studying him.

“That is still not how you wish it to be?” He tips his head, indicating Duck’s chest. Duck shakes his head. Then he bolts upright, ripping his shirt up and off to stare at the newly flat space.

“‘Drid, you, did you just-”

“If that is not what you wanted I can fix-”

“No, no it’s fuckin great! I, I never asked a fae for that kind of help because, well, the whole bargains bein’ tricky thing.”

“Of course. Though I must warn you, I had selfish motives. I wanted to be able to touch all of you.” He pulls Duck into his lap, kisses him as he glides his hands over his chest. When he plays with his nipples the human gasps and the fae grins, “oh yes, I am going to have fun with you, sweet one.”

Duck tilts his head back with a groan, lets Indrid guide them down so he’s on his back once again “Fuck that’s good.”

“Very. But I suggest we start consummating the marriage in the traditional way soon; the futures show everyone getting antsy should we delay.”

“Way ahead of you.” Duck tosses his pants away, stares as Indrid does the same before undoing the tie that helps his shirt accommodate his wings. The feathers of his ruff continue down his shoulders, turning to a light dusting by the time they reach his elbows and collarbone. Duck runs his fingers through and over them as Indrid positions himself between his legs.

“This does not need altering for you to be comfortable doing this with me?” His fingers rub Duck’s inner thighs.

“N-not right now. I mean, if you wanna whip me up a bigger dick later I might be ready for that.”

“Noted. My, you are quite aroused already.”

“I around you, it ain’t hard.”

“On the contrary, it is very hard.” He rubs the head of his cock across his folds, grinning.

Duck giggles, “Christ that was awfulAHHHhhnnnfuck’Drid.” The fae sinks into him with tender determination.

“Nonsense, I learned how to ‘goof’ from the best.” He kisses his nose, purrs, “mmmmm, you fit me perfectly, sweet one.”

“Did-didn’t know fae were on the uh, the bigger siIIiide.” He moans as something catches the tip of his cock.

“Ah yes, that ridged ring at the base is always popular with humans. It seems you are no exception.”

“Nuhuh.” Duck wraps his arms around feathered shoulders as Indrid rocks his hips, “fuck ‘Drid, want it more, want you.”

“Here I am.” Indrid kisses him and the world dissolves. As their lips trace over each other, he dips his tongue into Indrid’s mouth, the hints of sharp teeth making him shiver. In the warm, soft light of the tent, Indrid’s body moving in time with his own, it’s all too easy to see the marriage bed as it could be. A cozy house full of light, nestled in the trees, with a big, soft bed where his beloved fae could comfortably sprawl his wings open as they spent each night tangled together.

A short, high chirp brings him back to earth, Indrid raising up onto his palms and snapping his hips purposefully.

“Oh, oh yes, Duck, sweet one, yesss.” He thrusts deep, wings abruptly opening halfway, and cums with a charming trill.

When he pulls out Duck opens his mouth to protest, only for the fae to reverse their positions. Dizzy, Duck puts out his hands to steady himself. They land in Indrid’s wings, close to his body.

“AHfuck, goodness that’s wonderful keep them right there while you ride me.” He guides Duck down onto his cock; if every fae is this quick to recover, Duck’s pretty sure he knows who set the length of the ceremony all those years ago.

The feathers in these sections of the wings are a mixture, some long and satiny, others the downy tufts Duck is growing used to. He sets a slow pace to match the drag of his fingers through the inky heaven of Indrid’s wings. The fae purrs constantly, bucking his hips now and then but otherwise letting Duck lead. That is, until his orgasm starts to build and he grinds down harder.

“AHhhnnn, yes, good little human, so good, please, sweet one, my antenna are sensitive too please touch them.”

Duck gropes fistfuls of wing, “Thought you wanted me to pay attention to these. Make up your mind darlin.”

Indrid growls, yanks one hand up to his head, sending Duck down with an amused yelp. The instant he toys with the base of one, feathery antenna Indrid moans louder, gripping his ass with sharp nails and driving up into him. The ridge on his cock catches just right over and over, sending Duck over the crest of his climax as he pours a groan down Indrids throat.

The fae, still hard inside him, holds him tight and sits up, keeping Duck in his lap. Starry wings encircle them. It’s so intimate, a world that is theirs alone, and being surrounded by those sumptuous wings has Duck bouncing on his cock even as his own body grows sensitive.

“That’s it sweet one, goodness, the way your ass moves when you do that is delicious, I will have to find all the ways to make it bounce and, ahnn, and tremble laterrrr” he breaks off into another trill, gathering Duck even closer as he spills into him. The human rests his check on the feathered part of his chest, sighing happily as Indrid plays with his hair.

“Since I see you asking, yes, we can try some different things if that part of you needs a rest.”

He makes sure Duck is laying comfortably on his back, then straddles him so his cock drips pre-cum at the center of his chest.

“Use your hand, sweet one, and I will use mine.”

“To do whaAAAfuck, ohfuckyeah.” He hurriedly strokes the cock before him as Indrid cups his chest, pinching and teasing his nipples. They’re sensitive, having gone untouched for years, and that combined with the fact that they’re exactly how he wants them to be makes Duck whimper and eagerly work his cock.

“Mmmmm, you turn such lovely colors when I play with you like this. Would you--ahhhnn, yes, use your thumb like that--like me to get you some jewelry for them.”

Duck whines, nodding his head as the image of Indrid affixing a god chain to each one floods his mind.

“I could even make ones that connect chains from here to your wrists or neck; that way I could play with them no matter what direction I took you fromOH, oh, oh, oh” he smirks as cum spatters up Duck’s neck and chin, “you do like that idea. Here I thought it was idle dirty talk.”

“Nope, fuck, darlin, I wanna do so many goddamn things with you, wanna do every filthy thing two folks can do.”

“Is that so? In that case” he crawls a few inches, sets the shiny head of his cock on Duck’s lips, “open.”

Duck obeys, loses himself in the sensation of Indrid ravishing his throat as he tells him how’d he leave him tied on a bed and fuck him every hour. He uses his foresight to keep from pushing to far. All the same, by the time cum drips down to his stomach his jaw is sore and his lips swollen.

Over the next few hours Indrid fucks him a half-dozen ways, from kneeling on the ground to suck his dick to working his cock into his ass in increments as he coos praise into his ear.

By late afternoon, Duck is exhausted and Indrid is close to joining him. The fae stays on top of him, fucking him so lazily that at times they barely move. In place of their earlier ardor are whispered confessions and languid kisses, even a few jokes. Duck takes advantage of the lull to groom Indrid’s feathers into order, the fae humming happily under his touch.

Twilight approaches and lamps flicker to life outside the tent. Indrid reaches up, turning on the lamp above them.

“We have about twenty minutes until they call the ceremony to an end. And the new arrangement of light means they can see our shadows.”

In spite of himself, Duck moans.

“Does my sweet husband like being watched?”

“Only with the tent up. Fuck, ‘Drid, the idea of them knowin’ I’m yours. Knowin’ what you do to me…”

A wicked smile flashes into view and then Indrid maneuvers him onto his hands and knees. This time, he thrusts in hard and sets a rough pace, Duck crying out in pleased surprise when he does.

“I think they deserve a little show. Deserve to see how lucky I am, and how eager you are.” His fingers dig into Duck’s hips as fucks him harder. Duck tries to stifle his next moan, the sound broken and desperate, and Indrid tuts, “None of that. I want them all to hear you. I want them to know how, even after a day of spreading your legs for me, you are still pleading for your husband to fill you again.”

“Holy fuck, ‘Drid, yes.”

Cool fingers run down his right thigh, through the still-wet lines of cum, “Just look at this. This sinful body of yours is practically covered in my spend, and yet you want more.”

“Yeah, fuck, yes I want it ‘Drid, want you, want you forevermmmph!” Cum-streaked fingers shove into his mouth, don’t leave until he sucks them clean.”

“You do not mean that, that is just these needy holes of yours talking” he gives a sharper thrust for emphasis.

“No it ain’t, ‘Drid, pleaseplease.” It comes out as a sob and the fae stops, leaning down to hiss in his ear. Outside sounds of townspeople taking themselves in hand or bending each other over just out of sight fill the air, but Indrid’s voice drowns them out.

“Do you really mean it? Do you wish to be with me?”

“Yes, ‘Drid, for fucks sake, you know I can’t lie. I fuckin hated bein away from you, thought about you everyday. Please I, I think I’m in love with you and if I ain’t, pretty goddamn certain I’ll get there.”

Indrid pushes him down to his elbows, “I feel the same. Now, listen carefully…”

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

The last few minutes of Green Wedding are the most vigorous anyone has seen in years. As the sun sets and the tent goes dark the onlookers agree that the Newton boy won’t be able to walk for days.

What they are not expecting is to open the tent and find it empty. The fact that the fae guards are equally surprised could suggest genuine spontaneity, some strange agreement between the “grooms.” Or maybe it is simply part of the act. After all, fae are fae.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #reader requests #monster march #monster boyfriend #fae au

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 16

Word Count: 3,431

POV: Sidney’s

Warning: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Sorry this is late guys, but here’s who was listening at the door hearing what the new drafties were discussing. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Hope everyone is doing well and loving that hockey is finally back. Happy Reading!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

As much as you understood that (Y/N) had to go play tour guide to the new recruits; you absolutely hated it. You'd grown so accustomed to your days together. The two of you fell into a nice routine, waking up in the morning and usually having some form of sex before doing an actual workout. Though some mornings that was foregone for another round in bed, which you totally preferred. Then it was making breakfast together, followed by each of you doing some work. (Y/N) took the living room as her makeshift office, as she said working in the same room together would lead to neither one of you getting work done. Which she was more than likely right, as you found yourself sneaking out sometimes and just nibbling on her neck from the back of the couch.

You conned her into letting you go with her when she checked on the progress of the team house she was in charge of, telling her that you wanted to see where they were at with it; when in reality you really didn't need all those construction workers ogling over her. Their eyes would linger the moment she walked in, and you'd place a very possessive hand on her back or waist and suddenly those eyes were back on the drywall in front of them. She was doing an amazing job with the place, which Mario told her one night when the two of you joined him and Nathalie for dinner.

All in all, the two of you were inseparable that week and a half. So her even leaving for a few hours was not something that sat well with you, but you got it and kissed her goodbye telling her you'd see her soon. It was about an hour later that you decided it wouldn't hurt to meet the new guys. It was just an introduction from the captain, didn't all teams do that. Well, you'd actually already called and congratulated them when they were drafted, but real-life welcomes were always best. At least that's what you told yourself when you pulled into the arena.

She was out taking them on a tour of the town, so you wander down the halls only to find Mario in his office. You knocked on the open door, before walking in. "Hey boss, didn't expect to see you there?"

"Though somehow I did expect you," he chirped back with a cheeky smile.

You couldn't help the blush that rose up to your cheeks. "Well, you know…"

"Yeah, Sid I do. I remember it all too well." He stared off and you could tell her was thinking of his wife. "You have that same look as I did way back then you know?"

He didn't have to say what it was. You were fairly certain, you were falling in love with (Y/N), though you've yet to admit it to her or yourself. Call it fear of rejection or something else, you just knew that if you threw the L word out there and she didn't say it back, you'd be crushed. You just needed to give it a little more time. She'd already gotten scared about the fact she was dating you; you didn't need her to go running if you told her you loved her. "Yeah I know," you admitted to Mario. "Just trying to give it time."

"And you're doing this by showing up, while she's working?"

"Well when you put it like that," you grabbed the back of your neck, rethinking your decision to come down here.

"Relax Sid, I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Plus the new kids will flip out." Which was your excuse for coming down. "While I have you down here, come check out this new skate blade sharpener Dana got in."

"You know how I am about my blades. I kind of love the old machine." It was well known in the league that if you had a problem with your blades, one of the equipment guys would run down and sharpen it instead of just putting on new blades on like everyone else did. You were kind of particular about those things.

"Just give it a look. (Y/N) just text and said she's out on the ice with the boys and will be in the locker room shortly, so after you check this out we can drop in and say hi. Then take your girl home, like I know you want to." You liked that he called her 'your girl.' It was the first time in your life that you wanted the whole world to know how you felt about someone.

"Fine." The two of you headed to the equipment room which was adjacent to the locker room. Dana was in there and the three of you talked about the new sharpener until you heard voices next door. You listened intently as you heard her explain the unique design of the room, a hint of awe in her voice and you remembered walking in there for the first time and all the feelings you had. You could just see these eager young players being introduced to their first NHL locker room. Their eyes were probably wide taking every little detail in. You and Mario continued to listen to the conversation, holding back a bit before you walked in to say hello. (Y/N) left, explaining she had a phone call to take and you were just about to go in, thinking that she'd be surprised when she came back when Mario held you back. What you heard next had your fists clenching at your sides.

The things these boys were saying. Well, correction it seemed to be one kid, and you wanted to punch his face into the wall. Mario stopped you though, whispering low. "Follow my lead." The two of you moved into the room. "Gentlemen, it's good to have you here in Pittsburgh." All five heads turned at the sound of Mario's voice and in unison, they all looked over, an awestruck look on their faces. "I hope you're finding your stay here pleasant?"

"Umm…ye…yeah," stuttered out one of the kids, Ryan Jones you thought. You hadn't been paying too much attention when (Y/N) was going over all their bios the night before as you'd been too busy working on getting her out of her clothes. But you were sure you wouldn't forget their faces today.

"Good, good." Mario continued not really introducing or shaking hands with any of the men. "So I trust (Y/N)'s been good to you?" You found yourself questioning the choice of words your mentor was using, but still trusted him in where he was going. The boys for their part blushed, though one sort of smirked and you figured you'd just found your culprit. You were ready to drag his skinny little body out of the locker room and beat him to a pulp.

Finally, the kid with the shit ass eating grin answered. "Oh yeah, she's real good." His emphasis on the last part wasn't lost on either you or Mario.

"Connor isn't it?" Mario asked the young pup and he nodded his head furiously. "Ms. (Y/L/N) is very beautiful, isn't she?" The kid actually had the gull to snicker, and you could feel your nails biting into your skin as you fisted them at your sides. "Anyone would be lucky to be with her, don't you think?" Ok, this may be going a little too far. If Mario started saying stuff about sleeping with her, you were going to lose you god blessed mind.

"Well, yeah," the boy, Connor agreed, while the others kept silent, still ashamed to be caught gossiping about (Y/N). A muscle in your jaw ticked, itching to take young Connor out and beat some sense into him about how women should be treated.

"I know her boyfriend feels the same way," Mario stated matter of factly. Eyes went wide as Mario insinuated that (Y/N) dated someone, yet still Connor seemed unmoved. "In fact," Mario continued. "He gets super jealous. Has been known to even drop the gloves from time to time. You can imagine how he'd feel if he knew what you insinuated about her." The boys exchanged glances with each other trying to figure out what player (Y/N) was dating. Realization finally dawned on the one, Bjorkqvist, and you made a mental note to remember that at least of them had some smarts. It would help him out on the ice in the future. The kid took a step back as he glanced first at your face and then at your fists; another smart move. "So you see boys, we're family here and family doesn't take kindly when someone messes with us and those we love." Mario gave them a few minutes to let the gravity of his words sink in. You looked back at Connor, even though every time you did, you wanted to punch him in the face. He finally started to become uncomfortable; good. "I'm only going to ask this question, one time, though I'm pretty sure I know the answer. Which one of you called Ms. (Y/L/N) the team whore?" You flinched when Mario said the word 'whore,' as thoughts of that bastard Christian came floating back to you. That night at least you had the satisfaction of slamming the man up against the wall. Today you could tell Mario wanted you to take the high road; you weren't sure if you could honor his request or not.

Seconds ticked by as you waited for the guys to give up Connor, for you knew the boy wasn't going to admit to it himself. Bjorkqvist, the same one that figured out you were (Y/N)'s significant other finally broke the odd silence. "I told him he shouldn't speak about her like that."

"Finally, I see one of you has some sense." Mario addressed the young winger. "Now if you could be a little more specific on who it was exactly, and let me reassure you that by you telling me who it was will not affect your status with the organization, but not saying anything might."

There was a chorus of 'it was him' or 'he did,' along with fingers all directed at Connor. You took a step forward only to be stopped short, as (Y/N) walked into the room.

"Sorry about that. Sid…what are you…is everything ok?" You tried to relax but it was obvious that something had transpired while she was gone. Her head flipped back between you and the group of young prospects.

"Everything's fine," Mario finally spoke up. "I was just going to show these guys how we have the state-of-the-art equipment here. Right gentlemen?" They all nodded, even Connor. "So why don't you follow me and we'll leave these two lovebirds alone for a minute." A couple of the guys did a double-take as they finally realized that you were in fact (Y/N)'s boyfriend while Connor suddenly turned pale. "We'll be back in a bit."

As soon as they headed off to the equipment room, (Y/N) was standing in front of you, and you reached out to pull her close, needing to feel her close to you. She pulled back though remained in your embrace. "What just happened here?" You didn't answer, just dipped your head down to capture her lips. Your lips were hard on hers, demanding that she give herself over as you tried to release some of the tension, you'd been holding back for the last several minutes. She yielded but not for long, pushing back from you when you chased her lips. "Sid, talk to me."

You contemplated telling her everything but didn't want to go there. She didn't need to be subjected to the asshole's words and you shook your head deciding not to talk about it. Her hands that were resting on your shoulders started to knead the muscles there. "I can feel the tension in your body. Will you please talk to me?"

"It's nothing babe. Just caught one of your young recruits disrespecting the organization." It wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

"Let me guess, it was Connor?" Again, you nodded not wanting to speak the words and so you closed your eyes. "There was something I found off about him. Hey, look at me?" She cupped your cheeks, turning your face so that you were nose to nose. "Don't let him get to you. I'm sure Mario's handling it." You definitely needed to make sure that Mario was or else you were going to have to yourself.

"Yeah, I know you're right."

"Well, I have to finish up here with these guys once Mario's done. How about I meet you at that restaurant we love, in about an hour and we can have dinner?"

There was no way in hell you were leaving her alone with these guys. "I was thinking I'll just stay here while you finish up and then we can go together."

"But I have my car here. I can just meet you at your place and we can go to the restaurant from there. No use staying here if you don't have to."

"I don't mind staying," and before she could protest again, you added. "I want to, and we'll figure out the car thing later."

She gave you a funny look but said. "Ok," before pecking you on the lips and pulling away. "I'm gonna go see how things are going with Mario."

"I'm sure he's got them." You didn't need her walking in on Mario giving them a verbal thrashing that's for sure. "They'll probably be back any moment. So, what did you want to do besides go to dinner tonight?"

"I figured we'd kind of do what we always do? Stay at your place, watch a little tv and well…you know."

"Mmm, I like the last part." You grabbed at her waist and though she tried to avoid you; you were quicker, pulling her back close to you. "Though I still owe you a proper date."

"We go out for dinner all the time."

"Not that often, but I'd like to show you off a little more." You leaned down and nibbled a bit on her neck, but you heard someone clear their throats and the two of you broke apart. It was Dana and he was bringing the guys back, all but Connor.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Mario thought you could finish the tour."

(Y/N) adjusted herself before speaking. "Of course, um…where's Connor?"

"He had to leave," Dana said and you didn't miss the subtle nod he gave you.

"Oh well, that's too bad. We still have a little bit of time left before your families arrive. Let's check the rest of the building out. Sid, are you joining us?"

"Absolutely." You trailed along, after her and the recruits making some comments here and there but also wondering where the little bastard was that had called her such horrible things. It wasn't until the end of the tour that you snuck off to Mario's office while (Y/N) handed the prospects back to their guardians. You closed the door behind you as soon as you went inside. "Where is he?"

"He's gone and before you say anything; he was told we won't be giving him an offer. So, he won't be back." It was a start but you still wanted to hit him, get some satisfaction from feeling your fist connect with his face.

Still, you found yourself saying, "Good."

"I'm assuming you didn't say anything to her?"

"No, I didn't. I felt it best if she didn't know." He thought about it for a second and then nodded.

"Good, good. Family takes care of each other, now let's put the whole thing behind us."

"I'm not sure that's possible."

"It is. Go home Sid, enjoy your girlfriend. Take her to the lake and don't give this incident a second thought." It would be hard, but you thought you could do it.

"Thanks, Mario."

"Don't mention it. Have a great summer. I'm sure we'll keep in touch."

"Yeah, we will and you too." You headed out of his office and went to find (Y/N). Who happened to be in hers at the moment. "Hey babe, you all done."

"Almost, just finishing some of this paperwork on the house." You walked up behind her, gathering her hair and pulling it to her left side so that you could trail kisses down the right. "That's very distracting but very welcomed."

"I missed having you around all day."

She tilted her head to the side and dropped her pen as you hit that sweet spot she so loved. "I was barely gone a couple hours before you dropped in." Her jacket was draped on the back of the chair and you slid the straps of her bra and silk tank down her shoulder exposing more of her skin. "We should take this home."

"I locked the door, no one will know." You whispered moving her hair over to the other side, so you slide the cami off there as well. Her breath hitched and you knew that you had her intrigued then. "Especially if you're quiet." You spun her chair around and then kissed her lips. She melted into you and you could feel the tension of the day leave your body.

"We've tried quiet before." She exhaled out once you broke apart for air. "It didn't work so good for either of us."

You lifted her to her feet, shoving the chair out of the way. "Then maybe we'll settle for fast as well." Straps now completely off, her breasts were exposed to you and you kneaded them in your hands, rolling her nipples and causing her to moan. "Shh," You shushed her before gathering her pencil skirt and hiking it up to her hips. Sliding your hand between her thighs, you could feel her damp panties. "Guess you're not as opposed to this idea as you said." Your fingers danced between her folds, while the other hand pushed her panties down to her knees.

(Y/N) tore at the placket of your shorts, making quick work of the button and zipper before grasping your cock in her hand. She pumped you a few times before you hit her g-spot with your index finger and her rhythm faltered. "Fuck Sid, stop teasing me." She breathed out, and you slid your fingers out of her, grabbing at your shorts to rifle through the pockets to find that little foil packet you stashed away. You turned her, bending her forward to lean on the desk before rolling the latex over your member. Her legs spread a little further apart, as you lined your cock up with her entrance. Gathering her hair, you bent low to drop kissed on her neck and back as you slid inside her. She clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress a moan, while you had to bite your lip at being sheathed inside her. Your hand skimmed down her side, lightly caressing her breast before you took hold of her hips and start to pump in and out of her.

A moan left her mouth and she fell to her elbows on the desk, pushing papers and pens out of the way. "You feel so fucking good," you harshly whispered as you picked up the pace. You knew your grip on hers had to be biting her flesh, yet she only breathed out that she wanted more. One hand released her, making it's way to her clit so that you could toy with it. She whimpered in an effort to not moan out loud and the sound almost threw you over the edge. Your finger worked furiously on her little nub and you could feel her pussy start to twitch. "Yes, baby…Let go…Cum for me." She did, stifling a cry that would've filled the room. As her pussy spasmed around you, you joined her, with a few short thrusts. She collapsed on top of the desk, as you fell forward on top of her, peppering her with kisses. "Damn (Y/N), that was amazing." It wasn't lost on you as you tried to catch your breath, that you literally just had sex in (Y/N)'s office after defending her honor, but this was different; it was special because you loved her. You loved (Y/N), with every fiber of your being you loved her. Now you just had to find the courage to tell her.

#Not So Dangerous Liaison Series #sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby Imagines #Sidney Crosby Smut #Pittsburgh Penguins fanfiction #Pittsburgh Penguins imagine #Pittsburgh Penguins imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut

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msjr0119 · 5 years

Text

Love, Fate, Destiny

Part 8- Lythikos

Riley Brooks is a waitress in a ‘Dive bar” in New York. One Saturday night, her past comes back to haunt her as some unfamiliar punters enter her bar on a bachelor party- one of them being someone who she was once close to.

Catch up on the series here

*CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY*

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @drakexnadira

******

“I’m Bastien, Prince Liam’s and King Constantine’s royal guard. It’s finally nice to put a beautiful face to the name. You’re all Drake’s ever spoken about all these years. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Drake’s eyes widened at his father figure- pleading for him not to elaborate. First Maxwell, now Bast- for fuck sake, he muttered- hoping no one could hear him.

“Oh... nice to meet you too.”

Bastien hugged Riley tight, eyeing her up and down. He was delighted by her presence and had hoped that Drake would never let her go again. To be honest he was annoyed by Drake’s melancholy attitude for the last few years. Bastien had offered to visit New York with him on many occasions when he was off duty- to help him restore his love life. However, Drake due to his stubbornness refused assuming she would have moved on- possibly be married, have children and possibly will have forgotten all about his existence.

“I think it’s time we all head back... we all have an early start in the morning with the court travelling to Lythikos. Olivia wouldn’t be too thrilled if we are all late.”

Liam could foresee how awkward this conversation would turn- thankfully the others agreed. Taking a steady walk back- Drake held Riley back.

“I’ll walk you to your room. I’m so sorry for tonight...”

“Why are you sorry?” Riley questioned- she enjoyed the walk down memory lane demolishing her favourite dessert, she couldn’t understand why he would be apologising.

“Max talking about us getting engaged... Bast informing you that all I did was talk about you- I did. But it’s embarrassing. I could never get you out of my mind no matter how much I tried.”

Drake avoided Riley’s gaze not wanting to view her reaction, he spoke about her everyday. Kiara was throwing herself at him constantly. Liam and Maxwell had taken him out on the ‘pull’ many times but he refused to acknowledge any women. He was nothing without Riley.

“Likewise, I just wish you would have reached out earlier. Not leaving it so many years. I guess I’ll see you at Lythikos then. Night Drake. I love you.”

Riley pecked him on the cheek, holding him tightly. It killed her having to leave him every night. Due to the circumstances they couldn’t jeopardise anything for the sake of everyone involved.

“Wait! Why did you avoid the bit about being engaged?” Drake wondered. Did she ignore it because she never wanted to be married or because she may want it too in the future?

“Because Walker, that’s not you. You’re a grump. Not a sappy person- it took you seven years to buy me some flowers. I don’t think that you’re the marriage material. And I’m fine with that. I don’t know what the deal in Cordonia is regarding marriage- but in New York many people just live happily together. I mean look at Lo and Daniel- they aren’t engaged after all these years. Sorry I didn’t mean to mention them....”

“You don’t know what I want in life Riley, so please don’t try to think you do! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Drake stormed off into his room, slamming the door nearly taking it off its hinges. Feeling guilty that he hadn’t spoilt her in past, or showered her with gifts to prove how much he loved her. He was frustrated that she believed that he didn’t want to ever be married. Opening the drawer in his bedside table- he admired his grandmothers ring. The one he had told Maxwell he would have given to Riley. Looks like you will be here for eternity- the dust covering you, because my girl won’t ever want to wear you. I’m sorry Gran.

Closing the drawer gently, he laid back on his bed, placing his hands behind his head, sighing. Sitting up he poured himself a tumbler of whiskey- he noticed his phone light up.

Drake? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I don’t want us to argue. Please text me back. X

It’s fine!

Clearly it’s not fine.. please don’t blank me. If I said something wrong tell me and I’ll fix it. Please. I love you X

Brooks, it’s fine. Goodnight

No kisses. No love you. What am I even doing here?

******

Drake woke up the following morning- he hated Olivia and he hated Lythikos. He didn’t read the last text Riley had sent him- he decided to drink himself into oblivion instead and was now regretting how he acted. Shooting out of bed he headed straight to Riley’s room, not giving a shit at who saw him.

“Max? Where is she?” Drake demanded, if anyone knew where she would be it would be the person who was sponsoring her in this sham.

“I... I don’t know? All her things have gone.”

Drake’s heart sunk- thinking the last time they spoke it was a petty argument. The two men decided to scrutinise the palace searching for her.

******

Riley woke up in Hana’s bed after a spontaneous sleepover. She was grateful that Hana had let her stay. After explaining what had happened, Hana tried to comfort her friend. Hana had an inkling deep down that Drake wanted to propose and that Maxwell was testing the water. She obviously didn’t inform Riley of her suspicions with the state that she was in, when she knocked on the door in the early hours.

“Do you need me to let the Beaumont’s know where you are? You can come with me if you want- but I assume Max will want you to travel with him seen as though Bertrand isn’t going?”

“I’ll just come with you Hana, if you don’t mind. I’ll let Max know.”

Riley quickly text Maxwell, before beginning to pack for their short break to the coldest Duchy in the country.

Thank god you’re okay Blossom. 😘 Okay, we will meet you there. You ladies stay safe. Erm, Drake came to your room looking for you. What shall I say? 🤔 X

Nothing. He ignored my last text. He’s a stubborn mother fucker 😡..excuse my language. If he wants to talk he can talk to me later. 😞X

Okay, Little blossom. See you there- you’ll love it 🥶❄️ x

*******

Maxwell had informed Drake that Riley was safe and that she had just stayed with Hana. Drake slowly exhaled, he was now relieved that she hadn’t left them. His heartbeat slowly returned back to normal. Max felt guilty that he was the tip of the iceberg that had possibly caused this argument between the two lovers. Providing a soft smile to Drake, he pat him on shoulder- she would never leave us- leave you Drake. Travel with me to Olivia’s.

The men arrived at Lythikos, Maxwell was immediately scrutinising the area hoping to find his sponsor. Drake kept his head down- feeling like he had fucked up his chances with Riley again.

“Drake there she is. Wow! Look at Hana, she’s amazing!”

Drake looked towards the ice rink- of course Hana looked amazing, pirouetting on the ice gracefully. She is a very talented noble- even if she denied it. Then his gaze fixated on Riley, his beautiful Riley. Hana was attempting to teach her some tricks on the ice- Drake laughed at how terrible Riley was. He detested ice skating - but natural instinct told him to join them. Before he put one foot in front of the other- he noticed Liam catch Riley in his arms. Jealously shot through his heart, he needed to talk to her alone - he also knew she needed to keep up the facade.

“Max I’m going to head to the slopes, I’ll see you all up there when you hang your tutus up.” Drake said sarcastically, hoping Maxwell would assume that he was just ready to complete in ‘manly’ activities instead. In reality he was pining for Riley.

“Okay buddy.”

******

Liam noticed Riley stumble, and shot into action saving her as if he was superman. Helping her regain her balance, he stood frozen just admiring her beauty.

“I’m sorry Liam! I’m not as good as Hana, I’m such a klutz. Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome Lady Riley. Are you okay?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I be?” Riley said defensively assuming he would know about her domestic with Drake.

“I was just wondering that’s all. Have you seen Drake? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“NO! I mean, no I haven’t.” Riley snapped before concealing her anger. Sighing, she knew that Liam would be able to read her like an open book.

“Is everything okay between you two?”

Liam placed his finger under her chin, tilting it upwards- when their baby blues met he could tell by her expression that everything wasn’t as it seemed. After all, he had been brought up to read people’s expressions and body language. Cupping her cheek, she brushed him off immediately. Before gazing to the ice below them, her teeth biting her lower lip. Liam’s hands drifted on to her hips- he knew he was with Olivia but there was something about Riley that he couldn’t remove from his mind.

“Yes... I mean no... I don’t know....It’s fine.”

“What’s happened?”

Liam was curious and pulled her closer to his broad chest- unexpectedly his hands rubbed her back before holding her protectively- wanting to do more. She sunk into his warmth embrace appreciating that he caught her preventing her making a laughing stock out of herself, but now he was there to comfort her- to talk to her as a friend.

“I don’t really know. When we returned to the palace last night. He apologised for what had happened... then he asked why I didn’t mention about Maxwell’s question about getting engaged. I said to him that he wasn’t marriage material and that people are happy just being together. Then he told me to stop assuming what he wanted in life and stormed off. I text him and he just kept saying everything was fine... but it isn’t- he didn’t put any kisses at the end of the text like he usually does. He didn’t even say love you back... I’m sorry for the rant.”

“Sounds about right for Drake. Don’t worry about it. He would be a fool to let you go again. You’re amazing you know that? You are beautiful.”

Liam caressed her cheek, fixating his gaze on her. She is beautiful, what does she see in Drake? - he thought. This time she didn’t brush him away- he gently wiped her tears away that were falling slowly down her cheeks. For the first time she looked directly into his eyes, their breaths both becoming heavier. He knew she had no feelings towards him but he couldn’t resist - he couldn’t fight against his thoughts that were going through him. Moving closer to her, their foreheads were close to touching. He was now inches away from brushing her cherry buds. She was frozen, not knowing what to do or what was happening. Politely she removed his hands, she was with Drake. No matter how much her heart was fluttering at this moment in time.

“I should go... I need to talk to Maxwell. Thank you again for helping me.”

“Lady Riley? No need to thank me. And there are other options other than Drake.”

Riley ignored his smirk and wink, she knew exactly what he meant. The option she wanted was Drake Walker. If she couldn’t have that option- she would return immediately back to New York. Riley found Maxwell and apologised for her midnight flit. Gently smiling at her, he was just relieved that she was safe. Shortly after informing her that they were all heading up the slopes. When Riley and Maxwell eventually reached the top she couldn’t believe how breathtaking the view was.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Riley ignored Drake, she wasn’t a pushover. She wanted to talk the previous night- he chose not to. So it was her turn to be stubborn - turning her head she spoke to Maxwell instead.

“Fancy a race Max?”

“Sure thing...” Maxwell said hesitantly after noticing the awkward tension between Drake and Riley.

“Be careful Beaumont. She’s a cheater when it comes to races. She has cunning techniques...”

“I do not!” Riley turned towards Drake- folding her arms, scowling at him as if looks could kill. He was just smirking at her. She loved him but at times he irritated her so much that she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“At least you responded to me. I’m sorry for last night. I’m a jerk. As always. I don’t deserve you. You wasn’t in the wrong for anything. It was all me. I let my emotions get to me.”

“Why? I don’t understand why a good night turned so sour?”

“When Max brought up the engagement thing... I ... I love you ... and I want....”

Before Drake could finish Maxwell pushed Riley down the slopes with him closely following. Drake shook his head in frustration, and quickly caught up to them whizzing straight past Liam and Olivia, spraying them with snow. Drake noticed that Riley and Maxwell were heading straight towards a large branch, attempting to get their attention there was no response. Riley noticed the branch too late- both her and Maxwell went flying over it somersaulting in sync. Drake caught up, to the two of them and immediately removed his skis.

“Ri are you hurt? Max?”

“I’m unscathed buddy. I’m like an ally cat- 9 lives and that...”

“I’m fine.” She said, her eyebrows furrowed whilst rubbing her left hand that was now in excruciating pain.

“You’re not fine. You’re hurt. Let me carry you into the chalet.”

“Touché Drake. Just like everything was fine with you last night but it wasn’t! I’m fine. Just don’t fuss over me. Please.”

“I’m going to fuss over you. You’re my girl, I love you. Please just let me carry you over to the chalet and get some ice for your hand.”

Riley huffed, as she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Drake effortlessly picked Riley up, cradling her. Hurrying to the chalet- he laid her gently on the couch, and immediately attended to her injury.

******

After seeing to Riley’s hand he lifted it up to his lips, kissing it ever so gently- hoping his touch would take away the pain. As he placed her hand back down, thoughts wondered what his grandmothers ring would look like on her finger. Sitting next to her he wrapped his strong arm around her shoulder pulling her into his warm embrace, gently rubbing her injured hand. She snuggled into his chest, holding on tightly to his denim jacket- hearing his heart beat ten to the dozen. Her stomach and heart fluttered as they just held each other- content in each other’s presence. His touch made her forget the argument, forget the pain after the fall and forget about how close Liam was to kissing her- his touch made the room feel warmer along with the fire that was burning.

“Thank you.” Riley broke the silence.

“What for?”

“For helping me, for just being you. I love you Drake.”

“I love you too. So much. Just slap me next time I behave like I did last night. Fancy sneaking out? There’s something I want to show you.” Mischief was in his eyes, his infamous smirk had returned.

“But what about Liv? She will kill us.” Drake saw fear in her eyes and laughed it off. Surely she wasn’t scared of Olivia. If she was Drake was by her side- her protector.

“Fuck her. I don’t like her. The feelings mutual.” Drake shrugged his shoulders, not really caring what Olivia thought- she would most likely be shacked up with Liam anyway.

******

Drake led her outside holding her protectively as they trudged through the snow. Eventually they arrived at the spot, in the middle of nowhere- he gestured her to lay on the floor next to him. Riley was hesitating at first - the floor was damp, cold and covered in snow- did he want her to get pneumonia? Putting his arm around her, that intoxicating touch made her less tense. She melted into him. The warmth from his body- made the cold night air non existent.

“M’lady, look upwards.”

Riley followed his instructions. As she looked up she saw the second breathtaking view that Lythikos offered, her jaw was agape from the shock at how something so simple could take her breath away. The stars scattered with shooting stars lighting up the sky.

“Drake, this is gorgeous!”

“Not as gorgeous as you. I used to stargaze with Savannah all the time when we was younger.”

“Have you heard from her yet?”

Riley knew briefly about Savannah, Drake had told her a story about how his little sister disappeared without letting anyone know- he never elaborated on the true events. Instead he just insisted that one day he would find her even if he died trying. Even though Riley felt sorry for Drake at the time, she couldn’t now as he did exactly the same to her.

“No. I let her down. I let you down. I feel useless that I couldn’t look after the two people who mean the most to me.”

“You didn’t let me down. I understand- but I thought we had a future together and you just left. If you had of reached out and told me the truth I’d have understood back then. We could have kept in touch.”

“I am so sorry. I’ve regretted my decision all these years. Hence why I spoke about you to Bastien and Liam all the time. I was hurt and I know you would have been too. On the slopes before... I wanted to confess something before Maxwell pushed you...”

Riley looked confused. Wondering what he needed to ‘confess’. Her mind was working overtime. Panicked, not knowing what it was. Did he see her and Liam on the ice rink? A lump formed in her throat. Her heartbeat increased. Impatiently waiting for Drake to continue she held his hand tight - hoping she was overthinking the situation.

“I... when we came to New York for Liam’s bachelor party. We took Liam to the Statue of Liberty. It was something that he has always wanted to do- I tried to convince him to do something else- but obviously he’s a Prince and it was his escape from all of this. I wasn’t myself- that place was the last time I saw you. Maxwell asked me what was on my mind... I.. I told him about you. I told him that you was the one for me- that I imagined having a future with you... that I wanted to give you my grandmothers engagement ring...”

Riley now realised the reasoning behind Maxwell’s ‘random’ question, and the reasoning behind Drake’s outburst last night. Feeling guilty about how she said he wasn’t marriage material, she didn’t know how to react. It all now made sense.

“Drake...”

“It’s fine Riley. I know where we stand. I’m just happy to have you in my life.”

“You... you want to marry me?” Reality had finally sunk in. This man adored her. He loved her. And she never realised. Maybe she should have made more effort to contact him all those years ago- rather than just blame him.

Drake stood up, helping Riley to stand too. Cupping her cheeks he stared into her baby blues. He needed to knock his strong walls down, pretend they didn’t exist and tell her exactly how he felt about her.

“Riley Brooks, when we was together I felt complete. I felt loved. I know we wasn’t together a long time- it felt right and things are worth the wait. The first kiss. The first time we slept together. Every moment was precious. It felt like we had been together for an eternity. I want a future with you. I never moved on from you. I couldn’t. I love you, and it’ll always be you. I do want to marry you. I want children with you. Call me crazy.... But I know what I want and I want you.”

#theroyalromance #choices trr #riley brooks #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #kingliam #olivia nevrakis #hanalee #drake x riley #liam rhys

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

English Love Affair (Scyvie) - Ashley

A/N: The princess of America’s biggest hotel chain, Scarlet hatches a plan to escape from her fame for just a few hours. And then she meets Yvie, the roving reporter who will do anything to keep her job, including lying her way through the longest day she’s ever experienced.

Hope yous like this, my first every Scyvie so a bit scared haha - a modern day Roman Holiday AU (title taken from a 5sos song lol) Thanks so so so so much to @artificialmeggie for beta-ing she is a ledge. Lots of love Ashley xoxox

It took all of two minutes for Scarlet to collapse on her bed after she entered her suite, letting out a moan of exhaustion as her face hit the pillow.

There she was in one of the world’s most global cities, the London skyline dancing by her window, stuck in the four walls of her parent’s new hotel.

“Scarlet,” her mother tutted in her direction. Despite being face-deep in pillows, Scarlet knew she was shaking her head. “You only posted six stories tonight! We are counting on you to help us open here, we need the younger generation on board. I am expecting a lot more enthusiasm on your behalf tomorrow.”

Scarlet wondered whether she should just go and make a sex tape to make her parents mad, figuring in the end that knowing her luck it would only end off benefiting the pair. Maybe a drug binge? Or worse, she could be caught staying in a Hilton!

She couldn’t help but admit she often thrived on the knowledge that the world knew her, that they wanted her, feeling a rush of confidence every time she strutted a walkway and heard her name being called, endorphins rising with every click of a camera. Nonetheless, she longed for the world just the same way, to walk on the streets and be the people who called after her, to visit a market and eat street food.

Just one day where she wasn’t the princess of the Flazé empire and just a girl with wide eyes and a big beating heart.

“I am too unwell to do anything tomorrow.” She threw a hand over her forehead; the drama queen she had always been from a young age, an angsty teenager stuck in the body of a twenty-something-year-old.

“Well then we shall call a doctor immediately because your schedule is tight.” Her mother turned to an assistant, her commanding stare having the women running out of the room without even the click of her fingers. “We have a press conference at eight, a shoot straight after…”

Scarlet zoned out of her mother’s words, trying to pretend her long list of responsibilities for the following day was of no significance to her whatsoever.

“I do not need a doctor.” Scarlet’s dramatics heightened, the days of jetting around the world, remaining prim and proper catching up on her. “I just need to sleep!”

With that Scarlet heard the scoff of her mother’s throat and the slamming of the door, feeling sorry for the assistant on the other end of the conversation that would soon occur.

***

“I like it Yvie, I really do.” Nina tapped her false nails across the wooden desk, clearly searching for the right words to let her employee down gently.

Yvie didn’t even bother building herself up, she was ready for the punch.

“But it isn’t us and I think you know that.”

There it was. Nina was right, she did know, but it didn’t sting any less.

“It’s real life Nina, it’s what you see when you walk down the streets,” Yvie said, rehashing a point she knew she had made a billion times already and was not yet ready to compromise on.

“If people want to know what’s on the streets they can go out and look at them.” Nina shook a sympathetic head to the girl. “They want to read about the rich and famous, the life that they don’t have themselves. I’m going to be real with you, Yvie, you’re a good writer, a really good writer, and so many girls like you would kill for a job here, but you’re skating on thin ice. This is a gossip tabloid and we write gossip.”

“I know.” Yvie winced at her words, thinking back to the cold shower she had that morning, the water added to her milk to make it last, “I promise I want to be here, I’ll try.”

“I want this for you too, Yvie.” She placed a mothering hand over her employee’s own, “Look, there’s a new Flazé just opened off Westminster and the family arrived in London yesterday. They have a daughter, Scarlet, she has 10 million followers on Instagram and drama seems to follow where she goes. I was gonna give this to Kahanna but I’ll give you a chance, I need dirt on this girl.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Yvie responded dutifully, not usually one to compromise on her morals, but the thought of being jobless in a city where a £5 pint was considered cheap making her shudder.

“There’s a press conference at eight tomorrow, get yourself home and rested for it.” Nina smiled at the girl as she watched her exhale a breath held for far too long.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” She fumbled for her bag and was out of the office within minutes, ready to get home and find out everything she could overnight about Instagram’s latest piece of royalty.

***

Scarlet knew she didn’t have long till the drowsiness of the sleeping pills would hit her - she had to move fast.

Padding her feet silently on the cold marble floor of her suite, she grabbed the first pair of ballet flats that she saw, a pair her New York Fashion Week feet had never worn outside the comfort of her own home, wherever home was that day. Wearing nothing but her nightdress, she peered out of the eyehole on her door, finding herself at no avail when noticing the two “assistants” placed on watch duty outside of her door.

Swinging it open, she conjured up every ounce of Southern charm that her body could secrete, her inner damsel-in-distress bursting out into the open.

“Help!” she grabbed one of their lapels. “There’s a man on my balcony.”

Their instincts acting over logic in just the way Scarlet had hoped, the pair looked at each other and sprinted into the suite, leaving Scarlet with just the right amount of time to slip down the corridor and down the hidden maid’s stairwell, praising whatever lord would listen that her parent’s hotels were simply carbon copies of each other in new locations, a floor plan that she knew like the freckles on her arms.

Within minutes she had made it to the bottom floor, out of the maid’s quarters and to a fire exit. She could almost taste the smoke-filled air and river salt that lay above her. The dirty, dirty taste of freedom.

***

“Vanj, I need to be up at eight tomorrow,” Yvie pleaded down the phone as she made her way through the now darkened streets, gripping her bag tightly whilst searching for a cigarette in her purse.

Despite living there since her first year of uni, she never would get used to the sheer volume of people that lurked the streets at night, the antithesis to her Northern town. Wherever she went there were people, people like her racing home after a late stay at the office, people in short skirts and clicking heels ready to drink away their problems, people exchanging whatever they could in hushed voices on almost every corner.

“Just don’t go to sleep,” her friend pleaded in her usually gravel filled tone. Yvie often wondered whether the girl had fallen out of the womb yelling and hadn’t stopped till the age of thirteen.

“Next time,” Yvie responded, wishing she was out drinking instead of dealing with the fact that tomorrow she may not have a job. “Ring Silky.”

As often as Yvie found herself unaccustomed to the London lifestyle, nothing filled her with more dread than the thought of leaving the city. The thought of packing up her bags, jumping on the next train and returning home with nothing to her name but the remnants of broken dreams strewn in a suitcase.

She could miss one night of Vanessa’s pisshead shenanigans if it meant keeping her job, paying her rent, and delaying her inevitable failure as a writer.

“You owe me,” Vanessa grunted, Yvie vividly picturing her crumpled up face on the other end of the line.

“I paid your entry last week so don’t even.” Yvie shook her head before bidding goodbye to her friend and continuing her journey home.

Or at least that what she had planned to do.

She didn’t know what it was that turned her head to the left, what made her catch her eye on the pale girl clad only in a nightie, passed out on a wooden bench.

“So…happy…” she heard the girl slur.

Not passed out then; she re-evaluated the situation, just bordering on paralytic.

“Hey,” she tapped the girl’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Thank you.” She turned to face Yvie, accidentally over-rotating and throwing herself off the bench altogether before Yvie could so much as reach out a hand.

“Ouch,” she stated almost nonchalantly, her eyes only half-open but still allowing Yvie to make out their light blue, a startling contrast to her auburn hair and pale complexion.

“Get up.” Yvie held a hand out to the stranger, feeling a sudden need to protect her, the thought of leaving her in such a state resting uneasily in her mind.

Rolling her eyes more at herself than the girl now in a vertical position, Yvie swore under her breath; of course she’d find herself bringing home a stray cat, almost annoyed at her morals and wishing she was more of a shitty person so that she could leave the girl alone without having to worry about her, the way she knew many of the other people around her would have, and probably already had done.

“Is this a reaction?” The girl gripped Yvie’s arm for balance, her bitter cold hands almost refreshing.

Yvie almost chuckled at the girl’s inability to speak sense coupled with an American accent that she hadn’t expected. I hope I’m not this bad when I’m drunk, she thought to herself, knowing fine well that she was worse.

“Come on chemistry lady, I’ll find you a bed.”

***

“Who are you, and where am I?” Scarlet held a frying pan above the waking girl, only then realising that she should have picked a better weapon.

“Woah.” The girl raised her hands in the air and gave Scarlet a look of utter bewilderment, crawling back on the floor. “You’re in my bloody flat with my frying pan!”

“Did you keep me captive here?” Scarlet ignored the girl’s angry face, stories of models and socialites who were kidnapped on holiday flashing through her mind. “Who is paying you? How much money do you want?”

“Captive!” The girl rose to her feet, her eyes almost firing dark red lasers at Scarlet, clearly not afraid of her or her weapon of choice. “I found you passed out on a bench in the middle of the city; god, I’ll let you get molested next time.”

“Oh.” Scarlet lowered the pan, remembering the sleeping pills she had taken, remembering the way she ran down the streets after leaving the hotel. “This is your home?”

“Yes.” Yvie stared her down. “And don’t even bother making any comments about how tiny it is, how the kitchen and the living area dare to be in the same room or how my toilet chain doesn’t flush properly because I had enough of that all night!”

Sudden flashes of rolling around the floor, laughing as she realised the bedroom she was in was the only one in existence started to come back to her like polaroids developing in the light.

“Sorry.” She winced at the thought of her own words, “I’d taken some sleeping pills…”

But the girl didn’t even respond to her, instead simply opening her mouth wide and streaming off a string of profanities that made Scarlet giggle. Grabbing a bag and shoving whatever was nearby in it, Scarlet watched as the girl attempted to smooth her hair down whilst juggling a set of keys, a look of utter panic on her face.

“Out.” She motioned to Scarlet, the door to the apartment open to a dingy looking hallway.

“I’m not going out, I haven’t even showered!” Scarlet panicked at the thought of a paparazzo catching her in a nightie, hair thick with grease - not the scandal she had been hoping for.

“Well, I was supposed to be somewhere two hours ago, so you’re out or you’re locked in.” Yvie wasted no time trying to reason with the girl, shaking her head as she simply stood there doe-eyed and open-mouthed. “Guess it’s locked in.”

“I don’t even know your name,” Scarlet cried out, her mind bypassing the mess she was in as the girl was about to slam her door.

“Yvie,” she shouted from the hallway, not bothering to ask Scarlet her own.

***

“So.” Nina clapped both hands together with a chipper smile as she stood above Yvie’s desk, either not noticing her dishevelled state or being too kind to mention it - most likely the latter.

Her boss’s face looking at her expectantly, Yvie’s brain went into full-on panic mode, beginning to blurt out every lie she could about the press conference.

“…and then the daughter started to hint at business ventures of her own.”

Looking up she noticed that Nina’s face had turned from chipper to sullen in the time she had spoken, spinning around like the mayor from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t fire you right now.” She sighed, Yvie wishing she would shout at her rather than look so sad - her heart breaking inside at the thought of disappointing her boss, the thought that she had coasted her way through the job instead of giving it her all like she should have.

She bowed her head in silence.

“This is an article from Buzzfeed.” Nina plopped her phone on the table for Yvie to see, the title reading ‘Starlet Scarlet MIA from Flazé Conference: Mystery Illness?’

“This is the type of drama I wanted you to be investigating, Yvie, you should have been there, I put my neck on the line for you.”

Even though Yvie knew deep down she couldn’t blame anyone but herself, she couldn’t help but find herself angry at the insufferable girl she had stayed up looking after the night before, angrier even at the stupid heiress for not showing up to her own press conference and exposing Yvie’s lie.

Grabbing the phone from the table she began to scroll down the article, figuring she might as well take a look at the girl for good measure before boxing up her favourite mug and saying goodbye to her friends.

“Holy shit.” Her mouth moved without her brain comprehending the fact that she was swearing in front of her boss, ex-boss, maybe?

“Yvie?”

“I have a reason.” She let out a laugh with both perplexity and irony. “This girl is in my flat.”

***

“How dare you lock me in your home?” The rage Scarlet had built for the past few hours spilled out of her body before Yvie could even place her keys on the shelf.

“How was I to know you wouldn’t steal anything?” Yvie shrugged a shoulder, finding humour in Scarlet’s distress. “I wasn’t wrong!”

“I have no other clothes.” She looked down at the leggings and jumper she had borrowed from Yvie’s wardrobe, breathing a sigh of relief that the other girl didn’t seem to know who she was. “I will pay you back.”

“With the money in your nightie?” Yvie laughed and Scarlet couldn’t help but join in too, finding something so infectious in the way she bellowed like an ogre brewing a stew.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands - suddenly feeling bad when putting things in the other girl’s perspective, understanding her anger that morning; she was Goldilocks barging into the bears’ home and ruining everything. “I’m a bit lost right now.”

“I think America is somewhere over there.” Yvie pointed to her side, making Scarlet giggle like a schoolgirl once again. “What’s your name?”

Shit.

She hadn’t thought of this part.

“Stacey,” she blurted, thinking of one of the women she had seen on a panel show as she had flicked through Yvie’s channels earlier that day.

“Stacey,” Yvie repeated, pulling a face that Scarlet couldn’t quite decipher.

Standing up from the couch with the fear of overstaying her welcome or being discovered, Scarlet addressed the girl once more. “Would you be able to direct me to an ATM so I can repay you for your clothes and catch a taxi to Covent Garden?”

“I can take you to Covent Garden myself.”

“Oh no, I will be fine.” Scarlet’s natural instinct to run away from anything and everything in her life kicking in. “Just the ATM.”

Little did she know that Yvie would be stopped by nothing to wander the streets of Camden by her side.

***

“Vanj, I need a solid.” Yvie held her heart out to her friend over the line, her voice cracking as she began to make her way through the underground, in a complete role reversal to the conversation that they had the night before.

“What? I’m hanging!”

“What a way to greet a friend who has always been at your beck and call.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one owing me favours.” The girl seemed to have livened up on the phone, returning to her usual hyper self within a few minutes of waking up, surpassing the initial grogginess of the morning after.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need this. I’ll get you a Maccy’s breakfast, just meet me with your oyster and camera.”

“Fine, but it better be a double.”

Yvie grinned with glee at her friend’s agreement, the cogs of her plan all starting to churn into place.

***

“Yvie, that is borderline stalking.”

And Vanessa was supposed to be the friend who supported her bad decisions.

“It’s my job, Vanj. And I’m just gonna approach her and ask again. I’m not going to force her with me.”

“But you want me to peer around corners and take photos for you!”

“It’s fine; I’ll just have this back.” Yvie plucked the McMuffin straight from her friend’s mouth like she was taking a dummy from a baby.

“You win this time.” Vanessa snatched her breakfast back with a triumphant grin, Yvie already turning on the ball of her foot and making her way back into the underground before another bite could be taken.

Rolling her eyes at her friend, Vanessa began to quicken her pace, legs doing double the work, as one of Yvie’s amazonian steps covered two of hers.

“Is she fit?” She practically shouted, garnering stares from the rest of the public and making Yvie stop in her tracks, opening her mouth to speak but closing it again before words could come out.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

***

“Higher.” Scarlet watched as he lifted his scissors further up her hair, taking in the man’s pained expression as she jostled him to cut more and more off, eventually grabbing the scissors herself and holding them in line at the bottom of her neck.

“All off!” he gasped, clearly triggered by her decision to get rid of the locks that had eaten up so much money through treatments, stylists, and products.

“Like Audrey Hepburn in the 50s,” she squealed.

“Well, I do owe you a duty of care to tell you that, in my professional opinion, you will not suit it and this is all your doing.”

Turning to grin at him, Scarlet imagined this is what being on the top of a roller coaster felt like, smiling before the tumult of the big drop.

“All off!”

***

Yvie felt a wave of stupidity as she scanned the streets of the busy area for the redhead, knowing that she could well be anywhere between the hustle and bustle of street performers and market stalls.

She didn’t dare stop anyone in fear of getting her purse stolen or worse, simply stopping every few minutes to listen for that overseas drawl whining about something.

In reality, it didn’t take too long.

“No, you can’t.” Yvie heard the familiar voice and soon saw Scarlet through the window of a salon, feeling grateful that the girl she was trailing around London to find just so happened to think she was the star of a 1950s drama film.

“Is everything all right?” Yvie popped her head in the doorway, trying her very hardest not to startle the other girl or further trip her short fuse.

“No.” Scarlet gave the man a heinous look before even registering that it was Yvie in the doorway.

“I thought I ought to make sure you had everything under control out here by yourself,” Yvie explained away her being there, making dead eye contact with the other girl and almost feeling an exchange of energy between them.

“I’m not a child,” Scarlet whined, proving the utter antithesis to her point. “This man is trying to take my photo without my permission.”

“I just wanted to post her hair on my Instagram, it looks really good.” He turned to Yvie and raised a brow as in to say ‘What is with this crazy American lady?’

Yvie threw her two arms in a shrug back at him, trying to think of a way around the situation.

She couldn’t act too defensive on Scarlet’s behalf, she didn’t want her to know the truth. She couldn’t let him take the photo, then the rest of the city would be on Scarlet’s trail and Yvie would miss her exclusive. Besides, she kind of felt a small warmth toward the girl, despite her outlandish antics. Yvie could tell that inside there was just a vulnerable person who wanted a taste of freedom.

“Just take it from the back, without her face in the mirror.” She looked from the hairdresser to Scarlet, trying to come up with a clear compromise. “Sorry, Stacey here has a bit of a psycho ex, doesn’t do the whole social media thing.”

The lies started to slip off her tongue without falter. Festering themselves in layers upon layers, a complex beehive she would have to try to manage.

“Fine.” He agreed reluctantly.

Yvie couldn’t help but feel his pain, for Scarlet did look beautiful, the short style really showing the sharpness of her cheekbones, the playfulness in her smile.

“I can survive on my own, you know?” The girl gave Yvie a side-eye that could have sliced through the biggest of tensions.

“Maybe you can,” Yvie teased the girl, “maybe you can’t. Either way, I can’t help but admit I kind of want to show you around London.”

This part wasn’t a lie.

“Do you know where we can get ice cream?” Scarlet looked longingly outside, the summer atmosphere filling every inch of the air around them.

“You bet I do.”

And with that they were off, walking the streets together, hands only centimetres away from touching.

***

“I think we should just get in one of those black cabs.” Panic rose in Scarlet’s mind as they began their descent down what seemed like the steepest escalator she had ever seen in her life.

“Are you joking?” Yvie shook her head at the girl, pushing her body onto the right side to let people past.

“I’ve never been on a subway before, this is scary.” She reached for one of the cigarettes she had purchased first after leaving Yvie’s apartment that morning, deciding she would need at least ten to calm her nerves in the station, maybe 11. Following Yvie’s lead, she was surprised at how well she managed to navigate her way through the mounds of people, barely even taking a second glance as to what platform they needed to be on.

“How come people don’t walk into you!” She caught up with her guide, only just managing to escape the mangle of bodies that pushed her in every which way.

“Look straight ahead at where you want to be, never down, never to the side, people will just move.”

“People here aren’t very friendly,” Scarlet responded, knowing full well that she probably wouldn’t have given someone the same respect on the street a few days ago.

“It took me a while to get used to as well, back at home you say hello to every man and his dog whether you know them or not.”

“When did you move here?” Scarlet asked as they waited for their tube to come.

“I came for uni but stayed after, there are more jobs around here and I kinda like the fast movement of the city.”

Before Scarlet could ask where she worked, a young man was running towards her with a whistle in his hand and a stern look on his face.

“No smoking.” He grabbed the cigarette from Scarlet’s hand despite the fact that she had not yet lit it. “You’re not getting on.”

“Hey.” Yvie tried to reason with him before her lady in shining armour came to save the day.

“Brock!” She heard Vanessa’s voice before she even saw her, almost forgetting she had asked her to trail them and take photographs. “Long time no see! How do you know my friend Yvie?”

He stood a little shell shocked, his eyes turning soft like a puppy dog as he tried to take all of Vanessa in.

“I, er-” he tried to respond but was cut off before he could go any further.

“There’s a boat party down the canal tonight, Brock, you should totally come.”

“Yeah, I would love to.” He reached out for Vanessa’s hand but didn’t get the chance to touch it as she began to pull away.

“Here’s the tube, see ya!” she cried in her gravelly voice, grabbing Yvie and Scarlet with an arm each and essentially forcing them through the doors.

“When did you sleep with a tube guard?” Yvie questioned, not even putting it past her friend when she thought about it further.

“Long story.” She brushed her friend off. “Are you not gonna introduce me to your friend?”

Making a mental note to give her a smack on the arm later for the way she emphasised the word friend, Yvie placed a hand on Scarlet’s back. “This is Stacey.”

“Tory?” Vanessa mouthed to Yvie jokingly, raising an eyebrow.

“American.” Yvie laughed in response before turning to Scarlet, “Sorry about her sense of humour, this is Vanjie.”

“Vanjie.” Scarlet repeated, the pair of them chuckling at the way she spat the nickname like a tongue twister. “Thanks for not getting me kicked out of the tube station!”

“It’s no bother.” She responded, giving Scarlet a seat on the tube. “Now how do you fancy a boat party tonight, Stacey?”

***

“What about this one?” Scarlet held a dress to her new-found friends.

Despite being deemed talentless by fifty percent of the media, she knew that her eye for fashion was notably better than the average girls. Whether looking through a Marc Jacobs collection or strolling the aisles of the British discount store she had immediately found love for, she knew fashion.

“That doesn’t really seem like your style?” Yvie examined it closer, surprised at the heiress choosing a black v-neck stretch fabric number from Primark.

“Ugh, no.” Scarlet looked down at the dress. “For you!”

“Well it certainly isn’t my style.” Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, garnering a laugh from Vanessa.

“Too bad.” Scarlet smiled, forcing it in the other girl’s hands. “You’re trying it on.”

“One.” Yvie held a finger to her. “We are here for you. And two, these changing rooms might as well be a stop on the way to hell.”

Picking up a dress in her signature red, Scarlet turned to face Yvie, a devilish grin plastered across her face.

“Well, we better hurry up or we’ll miss the train.”

Yvie didn’t even try to hide her laugh. Although she had started her time with the star thinking she was arrogant and too caught up in her own fantasy, it was little moments like this throughout the day that showed her that despite all her dramatics, Scarlet was just as funny and down to earth as anyone else on the planet. She was just as gritty as Yvie herself, only she smoothed over her edges much better.

“You look beautiful,” Scarlet simply stated as Yvie pulled back the curtain - no screeching, no theatrics, the way she was feeling just rolling off her tongue.

“It’s too revealing,” Yvie responded.

“Can I remind you of your arse last Halloween?” Vanjie chirped from her spot next to Scarlet.

“Oh my god, you have boobs!” Scarlet played a fake gasp, looking around the changing rooms, “Everyone, this girl has boobs!”

Yvie’s face flushed a perplex colour resembling something like a beetroot. “Shut the fuck up.”

“If you let me buy it for you.”

“No,” Yvie replied, folding her arms with her usual stubbornness that Scarlet had seemed to meet several times despite only knowing each other for a mere day.

“EVERYONE, YV-”

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Scarlet beamed, her infectious smile bright like a kid in Hamleys. “Time for accessories!”

For the first time in her life, Yvie had no issue being dragged around the post-apocalyptic war cavern disguised as a shop. In fact, she could have watched Scarlet getting excited about scrunchies and Tic-Tacs and sponges shaped like fruit all day.

***

“Don’t be having too much.” Yvie rested a steady hand on the glass in Scarlet’s hand. “I don’t want to have to come and find you from a park bench.”

“I’m fine.” The girl smiled in response. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Are you having a good time?”

Scarlet wondered if she meant at the party or just in general. The answer was the same either way. “Of course.”

“Come with me.” Yvie held out her hand almost naturally.

Scarlet did need to be asked twice.

***

“I can’t remember the last time I saw the stars for real. It’s weird, they used to be there all the time when I was a kid and I never paid them any attention.”

“Global warming’s a bitch.” Yvie laughed, her head falling on the other girl’s shoulder.

Neither of them made any effort to move.

“Maybe I should stay here for good.”

“Maybe you should.” Yvie looked at her, really looked at her.

And at that moment she didn’t care about the job, or the money, Scarlet’s fame, the fact that Vanjie was probably taking pictures of them whilst running away from her tube guard.

She wanted to find the nearest clock and punch it so that this day could go on forever.

If only it were Groundhog Day and she could wake up again late to work with a raging ginger holding a frying pan to her head.

“I ran away.” Scarlet looked to Yvie, a blanket of seriousness washing over her face for the first time all day. “It was just meant to be for a few hours but here we are. I just feel like my parents… They have this perfect vision of me in their heads, but it just isn’t me.”

“Here we are.” Yvie repeated, shocking even herself about how much one day could change everything.

Before Yvie knew what she was doing, her lips were on Scarlet’s.

She tasted of cheap drink and raspberries.

Her hand ran delicately through the short tendrils of curls that sat by her neck.

Normally Yvie was a tough lover, everything about passionate grabbing and giving.

But she held Scarlet like she was papier-mache that could crumble in her hands.

Scarlet placed an arm on her back, moving it lower and lower until it reached Yvie’s curve.

“We’re on the roof of a boat.” Yvie giggled looking around her, praying to god that Vanessa was too preoccupied with tube guy to be documenting this specific moment.

“Well, we can just wait then.” Scarlet pulled away.

The thing Yvie liked most about Scarlet’s mischievous grin was that it consisted of more than her mouth. Her eyes, her cheeks, her nose - they were all smirking and winding her up like a jack in the box ready to take flight at any second.

“Yeah, fuck it,” she responded, pulling the other girl in closer, tighter. Their bodies a perfect yin and yang, slotting together like pieces of one fucked up jigsaw.

Scarlet’s hands explored her body like she was discovering America, running her nails right from Yvie’s shoulders to her thighs, making circle after circle on her back.

Yvie deepened the kiss, pushing Scarlet down gently so she was practically on top of her - a beautiful face staring up at her longingly between her very own two hands.

Scarlet’s hands travelled back down to her thighs, making her way under the dress.

The fucking dress.

“Fuck, Scarlet.” She beamed at the girl, nothing and no one else on her mind but the girl with the freckles on her cheeks and her hands, her hands on Yvie’s thighs.

And then they weren’t.

And the silly grin, the carefree smile, the excitement in her eyes all faded.

Yvie watched as the moment caught Scarlet’s attention, watched as the realisation hit her brain of what was off, watched as she put the pieces together of the puzzle in her mind and pulled the ones apart in real life.

“You know who I am?” Scarlet looked at her and Yvie didn’t dare look back, bowing her head so she couldn’t see the mascara stained tear that slipped from the other girl’s eye.

“You’ve known all along. God, I’m an idiot.” She started to laugh in an unnerving way, the way that you laughed when the only other option was to cry, to really cry. “That’s why you took me home last night, you didn’t want to make sure I was safe!”

“No.” Yvie shook her head at the girl, forcing herself to make eye contact, forcing herself to face the reality of her actions, something she had always skipped over and run away from. “That’s not true, I promise.”

“What about the rest of it?” She was shouting now, waving her hands in the air. “What about when you came and found me in the market? What about when you bought me an ice cream? What about when you picked me up after I stumbled by the fountain? What about when you kissed me?”

“I’m sorry.” She reached forward to grab the other girl’s hand, but it was too late.

“Just for once, I thought someone was interested in me for me. What do you want? A picture on my story? You got a SoundCloud you want looking at?”

“I work for a magazine.” Yvie winced at her own words, knowing it was time to tell the truth.

Her words went straight into Scarlet’s body like Yvie had fired them from a gun.

“I hope it was worth it, putting up with me for the day.” Scarlet started to get mad at herself as well as Yvie, how could she slip up so badly. Big mistake, she told herself, fucking huge.

“It wasn’t like that,” Yvie tried, knowing there were no words in the Oxford dictionary that she could use to explain right then.

Knowing there was no way to show Scarlet that watching her running around Primark was the most exciting thing she’d done in years.

Knowing there was no way to tell her that she was the most beautiful person she had ever seen, filters and Photoshop aside.

Knowing it wasn’t possible to make Scarlet feel how awful she felt that this is how they met.

Knowing there was no chance in hell that the only good thing that happened to her since leaving University was going to stick around.

Now, who was supposed to be the dramatic one?

“What’s it about?” Scarlet asked. “No, I really wanna know.”

“Please, don’t.”

“Scarlet’s Big Breakdown: Is she giving 2007 Britney a run for her money?”

“No.” Yvie reached out again.

“‘My parents don’t understand me!’ Daughter of Flazé owners runs away.”

Yvie’s eyes were so fogged with tears that she could only make out the other girl’s outline - she didn’t even realise she had been crying.

“Or better yet, Victoria’s newest Angel has a secret of her own. Scarlet’s big gay getaway!”

Before Yvie could respond, Scarlet had unstrapped a heel and thrown in her direction, missing her completely and making a satisfying plop as it dipped into the water below.

“I deserved that.” She went to turn to the other girl, but she was already gone.

***

“I hear our princess has returned to her castle.” Nina looked up excitedly at Yvie as she entered her office. “You got a story for me?”

I have so many stories, Yvie thought to herself.

The story of how she realised that it was no use trying to live her life if it wasn’t something she was passionate about.

The story of how one day and one lady changed the way her mind saw the people of today.

The story of the best kiss she’d ever had.

And worst of all the story of her first real heartbreak.

“No,” she responded determinedly, “I don’t.”

“Yvie.” Nina looked at her with more pity than anger. “That would have been the biggest story of the month. You know what I have to do.”

“Yes,” Yvie responded, an uncanny sense of relief and happiness filling her at the thought of being sacked.

If there was one thing she had learned that week it was that she needed a fresh start.

“I wish you luck.” Nina pulled her into a big hug, “I really hope you get to write about something you care about someday, kidda.”

“Me too.” Yvie nodded as she pulled away, the image of a red-haired girl dancing on top of every brain cell in her head.

***

“Thank you for your concern,” Scarlet answered the inevitable question, reeling off the preplanned answer her mother had drilled into her brain. “The past few weeks of travelling and catering to the public really seemed to catch up on me, but I feel much better now, sending all my thanks to the great doctors of London who helped aid a better recovery.”

Somewhere in between the scrawling pens and hushed whispers she heard a chuckle.

An odd laugh that she would recognise in a heartbeat, it belonging to an even odder girl sat in the back row of the conference, no notebook in hand, no recorder being fiddled with. Just a laugh.

The questions and answers flooded by like an out of body experience, her mouth speaking all sorts about new beds, her next modelling gig, her mother’s influence whilst her mind stayed on Yvie - not raising her hand, not asking a question - just sitting there, her wide eyes gripped on Scarlet’s every word, biting at the dry skin on her lips.

Scarlet didn’t know what compelled her to end the conference in such a way, for she had spent the past few days being furious at the other girl, blocking and unblocking her on every form of social media, screaming into her pillow at just the image of her face. But she did it anyway.

“I’d like to invite reporters to stay behind and mingle in our bar, feel free to ask me some more personal questions if necessary.” She glanced at the back of the room, making eye contact with the girl who had plagued both her thoughts and dreams ever since she stepped off that boat.

They did not speak straight away; first Scarlet faked smiles and gave handshakes, taking photos with anyone who wanted, but once they did cross paths, Scarlet felt again that buzz of energy that she could in no way deny.

“I’m not very good with words,” Yvie started. “Sometimes I can be a bit uncompromising and I don’t want to make this worse.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna sing to me.” Scarlet rolled her eyes sarcastically, thinking back to the moment she had murdered a Donna Summer song whilst getting ready for the party, Yvie throwing a cushion at her head in response.

“I thought I’d give you these.” She handed an envelope over. “I’m gonna head back North I think. As much as I love it here I think this city has brought out some of the worst traits in me and you showed me that, Scarlet, so thank you.”

And she was gone with the burst of the air-con.

Scarlet did not know what to expect in the envelope but it hadn’t been the pictures.

Yvie holding her hand out to her when she fell over.

The pair of them on the tube, Scarlet’s head in the clouds and Yvie looking at her with a look that she’d only ever seen in 1950s romance films.

The grin on her own face as they stood by the river Thames, a grumpy Yvie stood waiting for her, ready for her Italians.

And finally, the two of them dancing together on the boat, hand in hand, only focused on each other like there was no one else in the world never mind the floor surrounding them.

She turned it over, the Sharpied scrawl bringing a tear to her eye she didn’t even bother to try to fight.

“My dearest Scarlet. I am sorry. So so sorry. I’m not writing the article. I just wanted you to know that other than my initial intentions, none of it was a lie, you gave me the best couple of days I didn’t even know I could have around here. Go take the world by storm, your own way. Yours, Yvie (the girl who kept you captive) xx”

***

“Yvie.” She heard Scarlet’s voice call her name, quickly trying to wipe her snotty nose on her sleeve and pretend she hadn’t started bawling the second she left the hotel.

“I never thanked you for showing me around London.” She pathetically attempted to catch her breath before giving in and pulling Yvie into a kiss.

What she had thought before was a lie, this was the best kiss of her life. All while she had tears and phlegm on her sleeve, how romantic.

“So, thank you.” Scarlet nodded awkwardly, Yvie starting to laugh at how one of the biggest socialites in America could be anything close to awkward. “And sorry for throwing my shoe at you.”

“I think that I deserved it.” Yvie chuckled. “But you need better aim.”

“Maybe I missed on purpose.” Scarlet raised an eyebrow at the girl - there was that smile again, Yvie took a mental picture that she would keep forever.

“So,” she filled the air.

“So,” Scarlet responded.

“If you ever find yourself back in the UK…” Yvie knew she should be feeling sad about the goodbye but couldn’t help but feel happy about the time they had shared.

“And yourself in New York.”

“I’ll make sure to scan every bench I see.” Yvie let out a chuckle, pulling the girl into one final embrace.

“And I’ll make sure to find you just the same.”

“See you later.” Yvie smiled, something inside telling her that she would, that this wouldn’t be the last time she crossed paths with Scarlet. “My chemistry lady.”

She didn’t try to explain the comment to Scarlet’s confused face, only giving her hand one last squeeze before the pair of them both walked their separate ways, each ready to open a new page and live their lives how they wanted.

#rpdr fanfiction #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #scyvie #ashley #lesbian au #tw mention of potential assault #concrit welcome #submission

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burning-up-ao3 · 5 years

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20 Penguins Thoughts: Improvement involves more than a potential trade January 29, 2019 8:00 AMBy Jason Mackey / Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Look at what Jim Rutherford did on Monday, trading Jamie Oleksiak back to Dallas for a 2019 fourth-round draft pick, and it’s fairly easy to conclude that the Penguins general manager has his sights set on doing something.

Fine. Trade away, Jim. Shoot your shot.

But is a swap for a third-line center, or even an impact winger, going to fix this? Highly doubtful.

Not that the Penguins are a dysfunctional group, either. They aren’t. They’re still a very good team. But no matter what move Rutherford makes, if the Penguins play like they did Monday, they’re simply not a trade away from another Stanley Cup run.

“If we’re going to be successful,” Matt Cullen was saying after the Penguins’ 6-3 loss to the New Jersey Devils at PPG Paints Arena on Monday night, “we’re going to have to be a lot harder to play against.”

The 42-year-old has never been more right.

Kevin Hayes, Radek Faksa, Charlie Coyle, Micheal Ferland — all dream acquisitions by Penguins fans, for perfectly understandable reasons — aren’t going to solve the problem by themselves. Neither is shipping out Jack Johnson or calling up Teddy Blueger or whatever other Band-Aid has been applied.

Heck, the Penguins got creamed by the Devils, and Derick Brassard was actually half-decent. What the Penguins will need to fix this — and snap out of a stretch that has included five losses in eight games — is much larger than one or two players.

So, what realistically must happen?

2. Work ethic, urgency and competitive spirit were the terms being thrown around the Penguins dressing room late Monday, and it’s hard to argue with any of them.

The power play also has to be better; those five players need to be a factor, and they can’t keep allowing short-handed goals at this rate. They need to get Evgeni Malkin right, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Penguins coach Mike Sullivan’s move is to pull him off the top unit, as crazy as that might sound. No more bad turnovers. Let him focus on other areas.

The Penguins also must defend better than they did against New Jersey, and there’s simply a lack of urgency that shouldn’t exist at this point in the season, especially not for a team that fancies itself as a Stanley Cup contender.

I do have five questions for the home stretch, but I’ll get to those shortly. First, a couple loose ends.

3. I thought Sidney Crosby had some really strong stuff to say after Monday’s loss. He’s usually fairly positive, never too down, but the captain seemed fairly mad after this one.

What lacked against the Devils: “Everything. Execution. Urgency. Those are probably the biggest two. Pretty important ones.”

The NHL-worst 11 short-handed goals the Penguins have allowed: “I mean, it’s 11. I think it could probably be a couple different things depending on the play. It’s not a stat we’re proud of, that’s for sure.”

On needing to correct things with Tampa coming in: “We can say everything we want to say. We can say all the right things. We have to go out there and do it.”

Good for him. No one has a stronger voice than Crosby. And every word is he said is true.

4. Here’s why I think Rutherford could do something, and soon: Why else let Jamie Oleksiak go for a fourth-round pick?

Perhaps because Rutherford knows he’s going to need the space soon, and this was what he figured was his best available opinion.

That’s what I think, anyway.

“It just puts us in a position when something comes along — which, it will — over the next few weeks here,” Rutherford said when I asked what this means moving forward in our phone conversation early Monday evening. “It’ll put us in a position for other options because of the cap space.”

Which it will. Rutherford knows his phone will be ringing, and you know he’ll answer.

Yes, it was about having too many defensemen and Justin Schultz coming back soon, but that’s not a reason to make the trade now, for that return.

Doing it now, and not when Schultz returns in early February — remember, he has yet to skate with the team — sends a signal that Rutherford is open for business and able to potentially absorb some salary.

5. Switching gears a little bit … why hasn’t Teddy Blueger been gotten a shot? You guys/girls ask this a lot.

With 21 goals and 39 points in 45 games with Wilkes-Barre/Scranton of the AHL, it’s a totally reasonable question, especially considering Blueger plays in all situations and isn’t defensively deficient.

When I talked to Rutherford before Monday’s game, I asked him exactly that: Why hasn’t Blueger been given a chance?

“It’s a positional thing,” Rutherford said. “He’s played well enough to be here. When it’s been time to recall a player, the players that we’ve recalled can play the wing.

“We haven’t been in a position where we’ve had to call up a center. Teddy doesn’t play the wing. He only plays center. It’s a more-than-fair question. He has done what he’s needed to do to put himself in position to play at this level.”

6. I see Rutherford’s point. Blueger isn’t a wing, and the Penguins would theoretically be doing a disservice to him by playing him out of position, even if I know many of you are going to say, “Well, just shift someone else there.”

I don’t think the Penguins would want a fourth line with two guys playing out of position — probably Riley Sheahan and Matt Cullen — to accommodate a rookie playing his first NHL game.

7. Which led to this follow-up question that I posed to Rutherford: Is there a scenario you see unfolding where Blueger could get a chance this season.

His answer: “I don’t see it with the guys that we have here now.”

I found that answer interesting: “With the guys that we have here now.”

On one hand, that means no; Blueger’s staying in the minors. On the other, I suppose that could change if Rutherford trades Brassard or even Riley Sheahan, although I don’t think using Blueger as a regular is something the Penguins want to force.

8-12. To me, there’s five key questions for the Penguins coming out of the All-Star break. Addressing those will occupy this and the following four spots.

The first involves Malkin. Can he rediscover the form he found during the second half of last season, when he led the NHL in points (62) from Jan. 1 through the end of the regular season?

Taking him off the top power play might be one option. Maybe trying some other people on his left wing. Shoot, maybe even sit Malkin down for a game, just to change something up, although I admittedly don’t love that option.

But I think Malkin is pressing and his confidence is lacking, which is a bad combination.

“Obviously we’d like him to have more of a positive impact on the game,” Sullivan said after Monday’s game. “He’s such a talented player. He’s such an accomplished player. I know how much he cares about this team, this organization and trying to help us win. Part of my responsibility as his coach and our staff is we’re trying to help Geno through this process and try and help him capture his very best game. We’ll continue to work with him.”

9. What happens when Schultz returns?

You know he’s going to slot into the top-four. But more than that, with whom does Schultz play? Olli Maatta? Is he effective? Does he get top power-play reps? The latter part is interesting given that unit’s current situation.

I also look at Schultz like a trade-deadline acquisition. His presence alone could give this group a nice little jolt of life.

10. Where’s Matt Murray at?

It’s hard to criticize Murray after Monday’s game. No, he wasn’t great, but neither was the team in front of him. And this is a guy who was 10-1 since returning from a lower-body injury, with a 1.81 goals-against average and .944 save percentage before the Devils game.

Expecting those numbers might be a bit much, but the Penguins will want and need something close here to make a push over the final 40 percent of the season.

11. What’s the final verdict on Brassard?

Brassard was actually decent Monday, although hardly enough to quash any of the ongoing trade talk.

Given acquisition cost, don’t rule out the Penguins sticking with Brassard, although I would imagine that, if they do, Rutherford would probably like to add another piece to get more from that line.

12. How does this Metro mess sort itself out?

The Metropolitan Division is an interesting place right now.

The Islanders are in first place, have allowed a league-low 118 goals, and Barry Trotz is looking like the Jack Adams Award winner. The Capitals, meanwhile, have lost seven in a row and look lost.

The Blue Jackets are hanging around, and the Penguins are in fourth place, with the Hurricanes just four points behind.

That’s a long-winded way of saying that plenty can still happen, and the margin for error is rather small.

13. Moving on … I loved what Kendall Coyne Schofield, Brianna Decker and others did at the NHL All-Star Game, but I still wish it would have been executed differently.

For one, they should have been paid, especially Decker after winning the premier passer event.

You can treat this like a statement-making sort of event all you want, which I think the NHL did. But when you pay the event winners, pay the winning team of the All-Star Game $1 million and award a car to the MVP … and you don’t see a need to earmark anything for these women — who make nothing close to NHL players — until there’s negative reaction over it, I question how much of a statement you were really trying to make.

14. Also, why not show all of them demonstrating the drills? And why not talk, while Coyne Schofield was flying, about her own career, Northeastern, Team USA women’s hockey, whatever. Anything aside from her husband who plays for the Chargers.

Or, here’s a final thought: Why not promote the upcoming series between Team USA and Hockey Canada in Detroit and London, Ontario?

If you have a platform, use it.

15. One more about Coyne Schofield and Decker …

Being in the building, the buzz created was amazing. It also made me think about something that I’d love to see: a National Women’s Hockey League (NWHL) team in Pittsburgh.

I think it would work, too. There are so many fervent and intelligent female hockey fans here, plus there’s great infrastructure in place for it with UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex and how naturally intertwined it would be with the Penguins.

Have no clue on logistics or anything like that, or whether it’s even remotely possible, but if the team won, I think it could do really well.

16. I find NHL commissioner Gary Bettman’s stance on current labor negotiations … interesting.

He keeps repeating the phrase, “We’re not looking for a fight.”

Great, but your fans don’t care. They just want the product.

And it positions the players, if they ask for anything that’s even remotely reasonable, as the bad guys.

17. Media day must be handled better next year.

You’ll notice that neither Crosby nor Kris Letang was there. They were among the seven of 44 players who did not make it. That’s too many.

But I don’t blame Crosby or Letang. Why should they give up a day of their bye week when the All-Stars who are on theirs from Jan. 27-31 will get five full days?

It’s also not fair to the fans who bought tickets to the event — held inside San Jose’s City National Civic theater — expecting to hear those two or others. I also understand why those who played Wednesday night weren’t there.

My solution: Put a dark day in the schedule, to ensure 100 percent participation. There’s no sense wasting fans’ or media members’ money and ticking off your players … for what?

18. While we’re at it, I also think the Skills Competition needs tweaked.

I think the fastest skater, hardest shot and accuracy shooting events are fine the way they are. Leave those alone. Let’s concentrate on the other ones.

The puck control event was OK, but I don’t see how casual fans might keep the event on their TVs to watch a dude stickhandle around cones. Too boring. Need to spice it up a little.

Secondly, the whole event slowed to a crawl during the save streak-intermission-premier passer part of the evening. Has to be tighter to keep viewers’ attention.

Have goalies stop as many breakaways as they can until they’re done. If it’s two, so be it. They’re done.

Then simplify the passing thing. I don’t need to see poor Mikko Rantanen suffering through 2:17.379, then having to watch seven more heats.

The Skills Competition has some interesting elements. I think it can be watchable, as opposed to the game itself, which is a little too gimmicky for my taste.

But it needs to be tighter, falling somewhere in the 90-minute range start to finish.

19. I was not at all surprised to hear deputy NHL commissioner Bill Daly’s answer when I asked whether the Penguins are being considered for international events.

“Yes,” was what Daly said, with a wide smile.

As they should be.

How does one of the NHL’s marquee U.S. teams, with the league’s most recognizable player and some seriously high-end talent, not get included in this stuff?

The Penguins haven’t played internationally since going to Stockholm, Sweden in 2008. Whether it’s China, Germany, Sweden, Switzerland or the Czech Republic — all destinations on the horizon — the Penguins should get asked to go.

And soon, if you ask me.

20. I liked seeing Toronto’s Auston Matthews rip off his own Maple Leafs sweater to show support for teammate Patrick Marleau, who’s nothing short of a legend out here.

I think it’s part of what should be a push by players, especially the younger ones, to showcase more personality whenever possible.

I know the NHL is a different animal, and it’s never going to rival the NBA or NFL in terms of pure entertainment for casual fans.

But if the league can do something, anything, to become even a little less bland — including players speaking their minds instead of offering milquetoast quotes they fear might upset someone — I think it would be a good thing.

Jason Mackey: [email protected] and Twitter @JMackeyPG.

#20 Penguins Thoughts #Pittsburgh Post-Gazette #Jason Mackey #not mine #pittsburgh penguins

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sfppn · 2 years

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QISE Review - Beijing 2: Electric Boogaloo - Day 12

Back to last night--NBC cuts away from Women's Skating (which is the only thing people can talk about) for yet more "SlopeStyle". At least it's the final round of this.

NBC has been doing these 5 second "ads" for Toyota for the last few games, which are sandwiched in between runs. Normally, it's not even referenced by the commentators, In a miscue, we heard "...the three Americans, when we return to China!" followed by that ad, and an immediate return to Beijing. Ironically, there was no preamble when they went to an actual ad break.

You want a sign that NBC knows they are bleeding viewers? A lower third that says "Women's Figure Skating in 21 minutes". (PLEASE--DON'T LEAVE! JUST A LITTLE MORE FLIPPING!)

Finally, Torico sends us to skating, but not before a Valieva update. Yes, we hear about the "Grandpa Defense", but also that she tested positive for two more LEGAL substances. Those, combined with the illegal one, would increase endurance in those with already healthy hearts, and undercuts the argument that that the illegal drug was taken by mistake. On to the performances.

Tanith White pulls Kornacki duty on the magic board, showing "risk vs. reward" doing harder jumps. Johnny's back on track, saying that a performance is "something everyone can enjoy--like ice cream". Of course, it's all about reactions to Valieva, with Tara and Johnny vacillating between their revulsion about the whole thing and their heartbreak over Valieva dealing with all the backlash as a young girl.

...and then came Valieva. She skated to almost zero commentary--Tara and Johnny decided on a silent protest, simply reporting each of the jumps as they came up, not even when she bobbled one. They concluded it with Johnny saying "All I feel like I can say is that was the short program of Kamila Valieva at QISE" with Tara replying "...and for all the other QISE athletes skating here, I feel I need to say again that she had a positive test--we should not have not seen this skate." Johnny--"We are so sorry it is overshadowing your QISE". Tara then questioned why athletes bother training their whole life for QISE!

Personally, I cannot understand how QISEOC allowed this to happen, basically letting other organizations make the decision for them. The QISEOC made the original call to turn the Russians into the Not-Russians due to a doping scandal (which clearly wasn't enough), so why can't they make a unilateral call now? QISEOC President Thomas Bach continues to attend events as if nothing is happening. It's obvious to me that QISEOC is hoping Valieva will crash and burn at the individual event, taking the tough decision out of their hands, but that's a high risk bet against the collapsing reputation of the QISE movement. I'm sure NBC is incensed right now, as they watch ratings crash.

OK--off my soapbox. On Late Night, Taylor takes us back to Two Man Bobsled finals, with the Germans sweeping. Off to Team Pursuit Speed Skating. The US recently tried a new strategy, where a single member of the team stays in front the whole time (normally they hand off), which theoretically gets you better speed (if that lead guy can keep flying throughout). It didn't work out in this case, getting shameful bronze. Back to the Men's Slalom's final run, which seems like an excuse to show Shiffrin's final training run and an interview. Later, they cut over to live Men's US Hockey in OT (spoiler--there will be no "Miracle on Ice" repeat).

Afternoon coverage--Lowe sends us off to Short Track Skating, the Women's 1500m and Men's 5000m Relay. Lowe then interviews Sarah Hughes, 2002 QISE gold medalist in women's skating, discussing the differences in the sport between then and now (they were already talking quads then), as well as the Valieva saga. Lowe also noted that there is talk about raising the minimum age of QISE skaters to 17 (Hughes would not have qualified at the time). Then off to the Biathlon, Women's 4x6km relay, followed by a teaser for tonight's Women's Hockey final (which won't air until after 11p eastern), and Women's Team Sprint Cross-Country Skiing--Classical (winner of the "longest event name 2022"). Shaun White drops by for an interview, before we return for the Men's version of the Team Sprint.

That’s a lot for one day, and we still have prime time, so we’ll take it up tomorrow.

More to come.

#quadrennial international sporting event #qise #beijing

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regardstosoulandromance · 6 years

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chapter five: you can break my hear in two, but when it heals it beats for you // in which Quinn gets roses, Madison gets an assignment she doesn't want, the contestants go swimming, and Quinn and Rachel have a chat

read here on ao3 or below

Rachel and Quinn sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G First comes love, Then comes damage, Then comes two slit throats in a pool of blood

Just because you make her cry Doesn’t mean that she won’t die.

The words were printed on a tiny card that accompanied a bouquet of red roses, roses that Quinn recognized as being placed all over the mansion. It was her own personal version of the call coming from inside the house. Whoever was sending the threats had access to the set and the only person she knew she could trust was Rachel.

But Rachel wasn’t speaking to her, or rather, Rachel was only speaking to her as much as her job function required. She’d appeared in the control room bright and early, wearing sunglasses that obscured her glare and made it impossible to tell whether or not she was actually looking at the person speaking to her.

The plan for the day was simple, first set up a couple pool competitions for the contestants then let whoever won that escort Vanessa to the fancy dress ball they planned for the night.

Rachel had given her a curt nod, then stalked off to prep her people. That’s when Quinn had found the bouquet.

“Hey, hey you, what’s your name?” Quinn called to the security guard she’d stationed outside her office.

“Marcus ma’am,” the tall man said, giving her a small nod, “is something the matter?”

“Yes, something is the matter! Who put these in my office?” Quinn said. She pointed to the red roses, tauntingly beautiful.

“We just had shift change ma’am,” Marcus said, “I’ve only been here two minutes at least and no one's been in or out.”

“Then find whoever was at the door before you and get them in my office immediately!” Quinn snapped before lifting her walkie, “Madison! In my office!”

Ninety seconds later, Madison flew through the door, out of breath, “You wanted to see me?” She gasped, haltingly as she tried to catch her breath.

Quinn glared at her, “Stop panting, did you run all the way here?”

“I was-“ Madison took a deep breath, “-on the other side of set, and it sounded-“ she inhaled again, “-important.”

“Yes,” Quinn composer herself, “This bouquet of flowers showed up on my desk and I need to know where it came from. Obviously it came from somewhere in the mansion. Find where and who.”

“What? But I have guys…. and girls,” Madison said.

“Jay and Rachel can handle it.”

“B-but I’m a producer!”

“Yes and this is important. I need you to find where these flowers came from,” Quinn waved her hand dismissively, “Now!”

Madison stared at her for a heartbeat. Lips pressed together as she obviously weighed her chances with an argument. Then, in a huff, she picked up the bouquet and stormed off, leaving Quinn to pour herself a drink.

…

Madison, to her credit, didn’t slam the glass doors of Quinn’s office when she left. She did however groan loudly as she put the flowers in the control room.

“I can’t believe this!” She muttered to herself.

“Hey, what’s wrong Madison?” Dr. James asked. She pushed her glasses up her nose, psychiatric evaluations spread out on the desk in front of her.

Madison sighed, “Quinn wants me to figure out where these flowers came from, but it’s like a needle in a haystack! I’m not a P.A. anymore!”

“Those flowers?” Dr. James said, “I thought I saw Troy walk through with those. Maybe you could check the footage by his room?”

“Oh my gosh really?” Madison was out of her chair like a shot, over to one of the computers where she rewound the feed from the hallways. It didn’t take her long to go through the past twenty four hours at triple speed.

“There!” Said Dr. James, pointing. Madison stopped the feed and rewound it a couple minutes.

On the screen, Troy checked to see if anyone was watching, then took the bouquet of roses and walked off camera.

“Gotchya,” Madison said to the screen, then turned to Dr. James, “Thanks Allison, I can go tell Quinn and get back to producing now.”

“Can you give her this when you tell her?” Dr. James handed Madison a folder, “it’s Kara Edwards’ background. Quinn said she wanted to make her the villain with staying power.”

“What? But she’s my best girl! She’s wifey material!”

Dr. James put a hand on Madison’s shoulder, “Oh shoot, I’m sorry about that. Is Quinn like, out to get you or something?”

Madison sighed, looking up at Dr. James, at least there was one person on set who cared enough to listen to her.

“It sure feels like it.”

…

“So,” Jay stood next to Rachel, arms crossed, both looking out at where the contestants were lined up by the pool, “Do I even want to know what’s up with you can Quinn?”

Rachel rolled her neck, trying to come up with an accurate response. A professional response that she could use to explain to her coworker what was happening between her and their boss.

She was angry. She was hurt. She was confused. All of her emotions were tangled together, like a knotted ball of string inside her. It was slowly being pulled tighter and tighter in her chest, constricting every time Quinn looked at her, tangling worse was Quinn berated her or touched her.

It had been easy to lash out, to use the situation to hurt Quinn right back. In the moment, it felt good. Kissing Kara was nice, even if it was boring, and the look on Quinn’s face mirrored the way Rachel felt with every heartbeat.

But that didn’t change the fact that Rachel wished it had been Quinn she’d kiss yesterday. It didn’t change that she wanted to straddle Quinn’s body, wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, wanted to make her moan and watch her face as she came unraveled under Rachel’s fingertips.

Rachel shook her head, trying to clear all thoughts of Quinn like clearing an etch-a-sketch.

“Don’t worry about,” Rachel said, “It’s just the same old shit.”

…

“After Vanessa sent six of our contestants home last time, only twenty four remain. But who will be the dashing man- or charming lady- to win our suitresses heart?” Graham monologued on screen, “But before they can do that, they must win our Pool of Love competition!”

“Pool of Love competition? What kind of a shit name is that?” Quinn asked no one in particular from the control room.

“The goal is to swim across the pool, get the heart, swim back and deliver it to Vanessa,” Graham explained as he placed a hand of Vanessa’s shoulder. She stood looking cold in her bikini, more baring her teeth than actually smiling.

“Whoever completes this the fastest will be Vanessa’s date to the ball,” Graham said and Vanessa shivered.

“Cut!” Quinn yelled into her walkie, “Cut! God, our ice princess looks cold. Can someone get Vanessa warmed up? We want hot and wet, not frigid.”

She scanned the monitors watching both men and women shiver under the heat lamps. It was overcast, which was great for filming but sucked if you were standing outside in a swimsuit.

“Rachel why is one of my wifeys in board shorts?” Quinn snapped into her walkie as she zeroed in on Jillian Hawkins.

“She didn’t bring anything else and won’t change,” Rachel voice was tinny through the walkie talkie, “Says it’s anti-feminist to make her change. I think she looks great, and she has a point, it’s not like we’re making the guys wear speedos.”

“Well tell her that Atwood said everything is about male fantasies and get her in a string bikini,” Quinn said.

On screen she saw Rachel turn to glance directly into one of the cameras before saying, “Okay, got it boss.”

With Rachel on a bikini bottom mission and occupied for the time being, Quinn sank back down into her chair, watching the good tv unfold.

Contestants shivered and chatted awkwardly, girls with girls and guys with guys not knowing how to bridge the gap. Quinn signed, muttering, “well we’re going to have to fix that,” to herself.

As soon as she saw Rachel shepherding a now more scantily clad Jillian back to her mark, Quinn called action. Graham started babbling again, some bad pun and dialogue so boring that she tuned it out.

Then the competition started. Almost everyone jumped in the pool, except for a couple of stranglers who’s respective producers tried to urge into the pool.

After a bit of struggling between Jillian, Mike, and, surprisingly, Troy, it became clear who was in the lead to win.

“No!” Quinn cried into the walkie, “Keep Troy from winning! Anyone else, it doesn’t matter, but not- damn it!”

It was too late. Troy had grabbed the crown and swam back, delivering it to Vanessa, and Vanessa managed to keep the distain off of her face.

“Congratulations Troy,” Graham said, lifting Troy’s hand in the air, “You’ve won the honor of escorting Vanessa to tonight’s ball.”

And with that, Mike kicked over a flower pot.

…

Rachel had an internal Quinn radar. More often than not, without looking, she knew where Quinn was and when she was heading in her direction. So when an atm draped around her shoulders and Quinn guided her off to the side, she wasn’t surprised.

“We need to get Vanessa to cut Troy,” Quinn whispered as they stepped into a shadowy alcove, “Tonight.”

“Yeah? That shouldn’t be hard, he already yelled homophobic slurs while punching Vanessa ex skating partner so I don’t think he’s one of her favorites,” Rachel said, ducking out of Quinn embrace. She was still annoyed and wanted to be sure Quinn knew.

“But,” continued Rachel, “He’s good TV, why get rid of him so fast? There’s enough security here to keep him from causing too much damage.”

“He’s getting cut tomorrow night, right after the ball,” Quinn said with a scary intensity that Rachel hadn’t seen before, “Then he’s being banned from set.”

“Quinn, what’s going on? Are you, uh, are you drunk?”

“Get him cut, you’re the one who can do it best,” Quinn said, taking both of Rachel’s wrists in her hands, “But do not put yourself in danger. Keep security with you, alright?”

Rachel’s heart pounded through her wrists, through Quinn’s palms. In the cool, dark of the brick overhang, it felt like hot electricity passing through them. This wasn’t a trick, it wasn’t emotional manipulation or just things Quinn said to get her way.

“You’re scaring me,” Rachel looked from Quinn’s hands back to Quinn. A storm of blue-green ocean eyes stared back at her. It was like drowning in the vastness that was Quinn- and in an emotion behind her eyes that Rachel couldn’t quite name.

This was different from anything Rachel had seen before. It wasn't champagne on the loungers, a begrudging I love you too comma weirdo. It wasn’t a smile by the pool and the life changing gift of her cabin. It wasn’t even blood in the control room, begging Rachel to leave. It wasn’t any of that, and it scared her.

“Okay, okay I’ll get rid of him,” Rachel said after a beat.

“And?”

“And I’ll keep security with me.”

“Good girl,” Quinn whispered.

#kingsgold #kingsgold fic #unreal #unreal tv #unrealtv #rachel x quinn #quinn x rachel #quinn king #rachel goldberg #my fanfic #these violent delights

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alostwritersmind · 6 years

Text

Day One: It’s Not a Date!

Alice didn’t know exactly when their parents had gotten so obsessed with their love life, but good Lord was it annoying. There was no need for their mom to be this involved with their outing with a friend. And, okay, maybe Alice did like her. A little. Maybe more than a little. But Ayala didn’t feel the same way and their relationship would never be anything more than friends and Alice was perfectly content for it to stay that way. Even if Ayala had the prettiest hands Alice had ever seen and making her laugh made Alice’s stomach do little jumps they were sure couldn’t be healthy. So, when they’d found out their friend had never gone ice skating Alice had been determined to take her. And for this determination to be a good friend, Alice was being rewarded by their mother knocking quietly on their bedroom door and letting herself in.

Alice didn’t look up from the charcoal drawing they were working on as their mother perched on the end of their bed. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, mom.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Um, I don’t quite know. Ayala’s going to text me when services are over and I’m gonna pick her up at the synagogue.”

“And you have everything you need?”

“Yes, mom, for the millionth time I have everything we’ll need.”

“Okay, well, I just want to make sure. I know that after the whole Elena thing you were…you were scared of this, but I think Ayala will be good for you. I think she already has been.”

“Mom, oh my God, for the last time it’s not a date!”

Their mother regarded her child sympathetically. “Of course not, honey. But if it were, you could always tell us.”

At that moment Alice’s phone chirped and they quickly set down their charcoal, dusting off their hands and checking the notification. “I know, mom. I gotta go now, we’ll be home before dark.”

“Is she staying the night?”

“No, her parents have a work thing tonight, they’re gonna pick her up afterward.”

“Okay, I love you. Have fun.”

“Love you too, mom.” Alice hopped out of their desk chair and gave their mom a quick one-armed hug before rushing out of the room. After a few moments, their mom stood up and walked over to the desk across the room, smiling sadly at the drawing of the familiar girl Alice had left open on their desk.

When Ayala slid into the passenger seat of Alice’s dad’s truck her cheeks and nose were tinged pink with the cold and she shivered slightly. Alice admonished her for not dressing for the weather with a laugh, handing their own scarf over and turning up the heat in the car.

“Winters are rainy where I come from, Alice!”

“Well, that’s why I’m here to teach you how to deal with a real winter.” After about half an hour Alice parked next to the fence surrounding their aunt and uncle’s sugar beet fields and reached into the seat behind them to grab the bag containing the ice skates before climbing out of the truck and walking around the front to give Ayala a hand down.

Ayala shut the door of the truck gently, turning around and stopping in her tracks. “Wait, this isn’t your house. Where are we?”

Alice fumbled with their key ring, finally landing on a small silver key they inserted into the padlock and unlocked it, pushing the gate open. “It’s my aunt and uncle’s farm. Don’t worry, I told them we were coming over. There’s a river in the woods behind the fields that’s good for ice skating, my cousins and I used to race each other on it.”

Ayala smiled fondly. “That feels very Little Women.”

“Don’t tell Jimmy and Jacob that, they’d be livid.”

Ayala laughed and Alice’s heart danced, and fifteen minutes later both were sitting on a fallen tree tying their skates on.

Ayala regarded the ice Alice stood on warily, narrowing her eyes at the bumps on the surface. “Is this safe?”

“It’s a good six inches, it’ll hold your weight and mine three times.”

“How do you know?”

“’Cuz about three inches to the left are snowmobile tracks and those things are far heavier than we are. Come on, you can hold onto me for support.”

After a few more moments hesitation, Ayala stepped onto the ice, trying not to lose her balance before reaching Alice. Upon reaching them, Ayala clung to Alice’s bicep, not trusting her legs to keep her upright.

“Okay. Now what?”

“Now I’m going to start skating, you keep holding on and copy what I’m doing. The balance is in your hips and stomach.” Slowly, Alice started skating circles on the river with Ayala holding onto them for dear life. “Ayala, you need to move your legs.”

“Yep.”

“…You’re still not moving your legs.”

“Nope.”

Stopping short, Alice turned around and held Ayala by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“Mostly.”

“Ayala, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, y’know. You’re safe on this river and you’re safe with me.”

“I know, I know. Can we just…try again?”

“Of course.”

—

An hour later Ayala tentatively let go of Alice to glide on her own, only making it a few feet before her skate hit a dip in the ice and she jerked forward and would have slammed into ice had Alice not dove forward to catch her. They hefted her to a standing position by the waist, struggling to not send both of them careening down the river.

“You alright there?”

“Yeah, a little shaken but I’m fine.”

Realizing how they were holding Ayala, by the waist and close to their own body, Alice quickly retracted their arms and turned around, skating over to their backpack to check the time and not noticing the disappointed look Ayala sent after them. “We should be heading back soon, it’s almost 4:30 and I told mom we’d be back before it was dark out.”

Letting out an almost inaudible sigh, Ayala agreed and carefully made her way over to where Alice was switching out their skates for boots and doing the same.

—

Around nine the doorbell rang and Alice, already standing, went to answer it. Upon opening the door, they found a tall blonde man in a thick woolen jacket and scarf who blinked at them like he couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with the image in front of him. “You’re not Ayala.”

“No.”

“You the date?”

“What?”

Alice didn’t have time to try and comprehend what the man had said before all five feet and three inches of Ayala Shafir barreled past them and pushed the man back off the porch. “Björn get back in the car right fucking now or so help me-“

The man laughed, pushing his long hair out of his face. “Alright, alright, I’m going. And hey, Alice, right? Just kiss her already, she won’t shut up about you.”

“Björn!”

He feigned a face of regret before giving Alice a little wave and trudging back to the car waiting outside.

“Was…that your dad?”

Ayala whirled around, shock and blush staining her cheeks. “No! Björn runs the LGBT shelter I..volunteer at. My parents’ thing ran late and he said he would pick me up.”

“Oh. So. You talk about me all the time?”

“I’m sorry if that makes today weird, I swear I really am okay with us just being friends I just really care about you and-“Ayala made a muffled surprised noise as Alice’s lips clumsily met her own for a few too-quick seconds. “Oh.”

“I think today was a pretty good unofficial first date.”

Ayala nodded speechlessly, her lips still tingling, but was startled out of her daze by the sound of a car horn honking. “I should…go.”

Alice nodded, barely able to keep the disappointment from showing on their face.

“But, let’s do this again? When we both know what’s really happening.”

“I would love that.”

Ayala smiled all the way out to the car, ignoring the smug look on Björn’s face when she slid into the passenger seat.

@yourbookcouldbegayer

prompt was two of your characters are going ice skating. It’s not a date- they swear it - but everyone, including their friends, thinks it is.

#day 1 of gay #happy holigays 2017 #my writing #aasb tag #alice #ayala #bjorn #gods this sucks I'm sorry

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vctor-niliforv · 7 years

Text

Only With You

Here’s something about their pair skate bc I’m still crying abt it on a daily basis.

It was Yuuri who brought it up first. One quiet night in the onsen after the Cup of China and a few days before they headed to Russia for the Rostelecom Cup.

"Have you ever considered pair skating, Viktor?"

Viktor looked up from his tea, eyebrows raised. He paused for a moment, regarding Yuuri with thoughtful eyes.

"Not since I met you, no," he answered with a smile and watched a tinge of pink rise on Yuuri's cheeks. "It was always one of the other events, like the women's skating or ice dancing," he explained with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I can't deny that as of late, I sometimes want nothing more than to join you on the ice."

Yuuri was not expecting such an answer and simply nodded before excusing himself to bed. He had a lot to think about…

The celebration over Yuuri's placement in the Grand Prix Final didn't die down until late into the night. Sometime past midnight, it had finally quieted down in the onsen, almost everyone having retired to bed.

Everyone except for Yuuri and Viktor, who sat across from each other at their usual table in the main room. Yuuri's hands rested atop Viktor's on the table, the Russian rubbing gentle circles over his knuckles. The two had been nearly inseparable ever since Yuuri had returned from Russia.

"I'm proud of you," Viktor whispered across the table, giving Yuuri's hands a meaningful squeeze.

Yuuri glanced at Viktor and smiled gratefully before looking back down at his lap. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, meeting Viktor's gaze again.

"I want to skate with you, Viktor. Not as we have before as competitors or in practice. I-I want to do a pair skate routine with you. For the gala… when I win gold at the Grand Prix!" It all came out in somewhat of a rush, Yuuri's practiced words spilling across the table to a stunned Viktor.

A moment passed before Viktor broke out into a beaming grin and let go of Yuuri's hands, only to collide with him in a firm embrace.

"I can't think of anything better than that," he said, his words muffled against Yuuri's shoulder. "I want to skate with you too, Yuuri"

"Good job Yuuri, now make sure you do that in competition and you'll win gold for sure," Viktor commented with a smirk before stepping onto the ice himself. Viktor chose to ignore Yuuri rolling his eyes, and instead reached out and jostled Yuuri's shoulder. When their eyes met, Viktor’s smile turned soft and Yuuri reciprocated with a tilt of his head and a gentle smile.

Viktor pushed off from the wall and took a few laps around the rink, skating elegant figures and stepping into graceful crossovers at the curves. Yuuri watched from the barrier with a peaceful expression, leaning back on his elbows against the barrier. He had always loved watching Viktor skate; ever since he was young.

Viktor took one more lap before slowing to a stop in front of Yuuri again.

"I want to show you something," he said and Yuuri could almost feel the barely contained excitement radiating from the other man.

"What's that?" Yuuri inquired with a chuckle, having regained his breath after the short break. Viktor's smile widened until it almost reached his ears as he skated away towards the control center for the sound system. He hooked up his phone and pressed a few buttons before turning to Yuuri.

“Go stand at the center!” he called.

Yuuri did as he was told, deciding against questioning what was going on. Viktor was always up to something and sometimes Yuuri enjoyed holding back his questions and being surprised.

Yuuri took his place at the center of the rink and looked up as music started playing through the speakers. Very familiar music. It was the song Viktor had skated his free skate to last year that filled the rink.

“Dance! You know how it goes,” Viktor called again, still standing at the edge of the rink.

Yuuri paused before letting out a soft laugh. He began the routine, shifting his weight on his skates and gesturing widely with his arms before drawing in on himself, mimicking a man suffering loss and heartbreak.

As a new verse began, Viktor skated forward, joining Yuuri in his dance. At first he simply mirrored Yuuri, skating through the same movements alongside him.

Yuuri noticed a woman now singing along with the familiar tenor, and he looked at Viktor in slight shock.

“Y-you found a duet?”

“For our pair skate! Isn't it perfect?” Viktor answered, taking Yuuri's hands.

Yuuri had no words to describe how perfect it was. Performing a pair skate to the song Yuuri himself had also skated to, in a performance that had brought Viktor into his life; it was quite entirely their song.

As the music swelled, Viktor moved his hands to Yuuri's hips and lifted. Yuuri gasped and clutched at Viktor's shoulders, the Russian only wobbling a little on his skates. Viktor gently brought Yuuri back down to the ice before grinning and carefully lowering him into a dip.

The song continued as the pair moved gracefully on the ice. Their dance was not practiced and nowhere near perfect, but it was beautiful. It was full of soft caresses and awkward bumps; failed lifts (on Viktor's part) and bright laughter.

The song ended and Yuuri couldn't feel his cheeks anymore from smiling so much.

“I really wanted to try lifting you, but I guess it's my turn to do a bit of strength training, huh?” Viktor commented, out of breath.

Yuuri laughed outright at that, the sound filling the rink just as the music had, and filling Viktor with a feeling of warmth.

“I suppose so. I'm not exactly light, am I?”

“You're all full of muscle. And katsudon!” Viktor joked, pinching Yuuri's stomach which sent the Japanese man into another round of loud laughter.

“I bet you could lift me,” Viktor said softly after a moment, his words coming in a breath that hit Yuuri's ear and his arms wrapping around Yuuri's waist.

“I-I doubt I could. Without dropping you,” Yuuri stuttered as he flushed slightly at the warm breath hitting his ear.

“You'd never drop me! Come on, try it!” Viktor encouraged, stepping away from Yuuri and moving in front of him. “For me?”

Yuuri let out a sigh, shaking his head. He was truly weak against Viktor.

“Fine. Just this once,” he declared, holding up his forefinger and pointing it at Viktor.

Yuuri skated forward and hesitantly placed his hands on Viktor's hips. He glanced up at Viktor who smiled and nodded encouragingly, before gently gripping Yuuri's shoulders. In a swift motion, Yuuri lifted the Russian about a foot off the ice. After realizing that supporting Viktor’s weight really wasn’t as difficult as he’d thought it would be, Yuuri decided to add a flare and spun a half circle with Viktor in his arms. He slowly lowered Viktor and then proceeded to dip the larger man with a smirk. Yuuri held this pose and was soon holding back laughter at the flustered look on Viktor's face.

Viktor was sporting quite the blush, with his eyes full of such stunned admiration that the expression on his face could only be described as swoon.

“Wow,” was all he could say as Yuuri righted the both of them. “You-you’re so strong Yuuri! I knew you could do it!” Viktor cheered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri brushed off the compliment with a wave of his hand. “But it’s best if you do the lifts for the actual program, I-I don’t want to get nervous and then drop you and then…”

Viktor could see the panic settling in and placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. He leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to the center of the shorter man’s forehead, before smiling gently down at him.

“I’ll do the lifts. How could I pass up an opportunity to have you in my arms?”

There was too much going on in Yuuri’s head. It had to be one of the most stressful days of his life. The morning was full of near-tangible tension after the mostly unresolved conversation he had had with Viktor the previous night that had left both of them reeling. Said tension had finally broken mere seconds before what he thought would be the final free skate of his career, leaving him relieved to the point he was almost shaking on the ice.

And it had all culminated into the silver medal hanging around Yuuri’s neck. He traced the edge of it with one hand, his other still at the back of Viktor’s head, playing with the short silver strands there as they sat together on the padded floor of the ice rink. After such an emotionally charged day, on top of the exertion of competing, Yuuri was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on Viktor’s shoulder in the warmth of his embrace right then and there.

Before the pull of sleep could drag Yuuri any further, he lifted his head and looked into Viktor’s eyes.

“I want to skate with you,” he whispered, putting into words what he had realized on the ice. It really was the only piece of his jumbled thoughts that made any sense to Yuuri at that moment. The strong desire to be on the same ice with Viktor as equals in every way.

Viktor laughed breathily and reached out to brush Yuuri’s cheek with his thumb, his smile soft and warm.

“And I want to skate with you, Yuuri,” he whispered back. “But first, you need sleep.”

Without further warning, Viktor picked Yuuri up and walked off towards the exit, ignoring the half-hearted protests from the Japanese man.

It was perfect. Dancing on the ice with Viktor was something like a dream for Yuuri. He had dreamt of sharing the ice with Viktor, but only in competition. Sharing it with him in this way, with Viktor’s hands in his and his arms around Yuuri’s waist; there were no words to describe it.

Yuuri couldn’t hear the crowd or the music, he could only hear his heart pounding in his ears and the occasional murmur of Viktor singing along to the song- their song- between jumps and lifts.

Stay close to me, the song said, and so did Viktor’s eyes and Yuuri’s gentle caresses.

Do not leave, echoed through the rink, and was felt in the way Viktor lifted Yuuri high, and the way Yuuri held Viktor tight.

I want to skate with you, was a thought shared only between the two of them, a lifelong request that they would fulfill together for eternity.

#lol look who's gettin sappy at 10 pm its me #yoi #yuri on ice #victuuri #vikturi #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #i still dont know what the agreed spelling of anythig is pls help #my writing #yoi fanfic

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boshbashbish · 7 years

Text

he asks you out

5 weeks. That’s how long she’d been in Toronto for. Most days she’d gone to the arena to watch the Marlies’ practice or their games, and that day was no different.

“You coming?” asked Kappy, a childhood friend of hers. They’d known each other since he was born, since she was a year older than him. She’d been staying at his apartment and enjoyed every second she got to spend with her best friend. Sure, they argued sometimes and if they weren’t being sarcastic, people often thought something was wrong, but mostly it was just friendly bickering.

“Oh my god stop rushing me, this morning’s practice is optional so we don’t have to hurry,” she replied while choosing a sweater to wear. He was mumbling stuff like “women” and “I always have to wait for you”, so when she went to put her shoes on, she elbowed him in the ribs and told him to shut up. He rolled his eyes and on the way to the car, he proceeded to explain every detail from the previous night’s game. The car ride to the arena was short, not more than 10 minutes, and outside were waiting a handful of fans wanting a picture with Kappy.

“I’ll see you inside?” she chuckled and Kappy nodded and smiled. She had made the mistake of going outside with him before, only to be stared at like a freak. Rumours of her being his girlfriend had erupted only hours later and she did not want to deal with that again. She heard one of the girls exclaim that she’d gotten William’s autograph just minutes before, so she hurried inside to hang out with the glorious swedish god that is William Nylander. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his face; his blue eyes were to die for, and that damn smile of his always made her knees go weak. Once she reached the rink, she scanned the ice for that perfect flow of blonde hair, spotting him skating behind one of the goals. She sat down on the bench just by the rink, put her bag down and tightened her jacket around her; it always surprised her how cold the arena was.

“Well that was quick, it usually takes you a good 15 minutes to get here,” she said to Kasperi as he approached her, with his skates in one hand and stick in the other.

“Most of them had already left. Usually I’m not this late but this morning, for some weird reason, I arrived here later than most mornings,” he replied while tying his skates.

“Oh fuck you, we’re not even late! The practice hasn’t even started yet,” she said and rolled her eyes. She could see a familiar figure approaching them from the corner of her eye, and her hand immediately went to her hair, trying to smooth it out. Kappy smirked, knowing exactly why.

“Hey y/n, fancy seeing you here,” William said, propped himself against the railing and smiled. He glanced at Kappy, said a quick “hi what’s up”, turned away and focused his attention to her.

“Well hello Willie. Surprised to see you here this morning,” she replied and laughed; the 3 of them and some of the other players of the Marlies had all gone to a party the night before, and William had had a little too much to drink. She, among everyone else, had been sure that he would wake up with the biggest hangover.

“Why does everyone keep telling me that? I didn’t even drink that much,” he answered with a laugh, the corners of his eyes wrinkling up. He looked so freaking cute.

“Sure… because chatting up a lamp post is what sober people do,” she chuckled. Brendan Leipsic had filmed it all, she needed to remember to ask him to send that clip to her.

“It looked lonely! No one ever pays attention lamp posts! I was just being a nice guy,” he smirked. She shrugged a “sure” and gazed into his eyes. He was just about to say something when Viktor Loov and Mitch Marner skated over. William looked annoyed, but turned his head towards

y/n, mouthed the words “talk to you later” and winked. She blushed and tried to cover it up by coughing and smoothing her hair.

“Oh. You’re here. Again,” Viktor said with a sigh. She and Loov had never gotten along, they’d met each other at world junior’s a couple years back and had remained on bad terms ever since. They didn’t quite hate each other, it was more like a mutual dislike.

“Wouldn’t miss a chance to ruin your day,” y/n replied dryly and pulled her phone out. She really was not in the mood to exchange unpleasantries with him, so she decided to ignore him. Everyone else thought it was pretty funny how the two of them didn’t miss a chance to throw a remark at one another, and sometimes even she looked forward to making him want to pull his hair out. The coach blowed his tiny whistle to let everyone present to gather up, which meant the practice was about to begin.

“See you after practice?” Willy said and she nodded, mumbled “bye” and watched how he skated away. She was very eager to find out what he was about to say earlier, and could not wait to see him later on.

The practice went on, the boys played well and tried some new strategies. Most girls would probably find watching ice hockey practice boring, but not y/n. She had always loved the sport, and thought it was really interesting. And of course watching a handful of good looking guys work hard wasn’t unpleasing. One guy in particular… Before she could even realize, Kappy, Willy and a couple of other guys were skating towards her.

“Nice job! You guys are really getting better and better with handling the puck,” y/n said and offered the guys some waterbottles.

“Hmph. What do you know about hockey?” asked Viktor, and eyed her up and down very judgmentally.

“A lot actually, thanks for asking. I guess growing up in a family where most of the members play hockey, and one has years of experience in coaching teaches you what you need to know about it,” she scoffed and turned her attention to him.

“Well, why don't you go put some skates on and show us what you know, if you’re so good?” he asked in an overly sweet tone. She took a deep breath.

“Or, you know, I could not do that and just go on with my day,” she smiled back, trying to avoid what was coming next.

“Oh c’mon, y/n. Don’t be a pussy,” Look continued.

“Pretty sure I just said no, do you have a problem with understanding or hearing?” she said getting up and gathered her things.

“Hey, man, just drop it, okay?” Kappy said and poked Viktor with his stick. She tried to remain calm, but if that bag of dicks kept going then she would not be able to contain herself.

“Seriously, y/n, I don’t know what your problem is. If you’re such a hockey expert then I’m sure you can show us some sick moves. Don’t be such a stuck up…” he started but couldn’t finish before she opened her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up! I said no!” she yelled and spread her arms. Only Kasperi, William, Viktor and she were still there, the tension between them growing and growing. She didn’t care though, all she wanted was to beat this idiot’s ass.

“Did I hit a nerve there, missy?” he pushed smirking, obviously very pleased with himself. She would regret what she was about to say, but at this point she couldn’t stop herself.

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t know how to skate! There, I said it, happy now, you asshole?” she screamed and stormed off. Viktor mumbled and walked to the locker room, Kappy and a very confused looking William following him.

Y/n sat outside on a bench, focusing her attention to the cool breeze and birds singing. She had never learned how to skate, mostly due to the fact that her dad had always been so busy with coaching teams and her brothers. She hated herself for letting Viktor know it, and she was sure he’d use that against her in the future. Stroking her hand through her hair she sat back and exhaled. What a great start to the day.

“Hey there,” a familiar voice said and plopped down next to her. She felt her mood instantly brightening.

“Hello,” she replied and turned her head towards Will. There he was, sitting next to her like she hadn’t just gone crazy on his friend.

“I didn't have a chance to tell you this earlier, but you look really nice today,” William said smiling. It took her a minute to respond.

“Oh, thank you. You look good today too, you know, considering how big of a mess you were just a mere 12 hours ago,” she said and they both laughed. William’s laugh was one of her favourite things in the world. The way his head tilted back and his eyes closed just made her smile even bigger.

“Oh wow, we’re still talking about that. Last night was really fun though, I’m glad we got to go there,” he answered and kept looking at her.

“Me too, it really was fun. I like hanging out with you,” she said and turned her whole body towards him. They just sat there looking at each other for a while, not saying anything.

“So.. I kind of wanted to ask you something earlier,” Will started. Y/n felt her heart going faster. Was he going to…

“Oh yeah?” she smiled. He looked at his lap, fidgeted with his fingers and looked up to her. He seemed nervous.

“Would you like to go out with me tonight?” he blurted out. She froze. She could not believe what had just happened. Did William just ask her out?

“Um, sure. I mean, yes. I would really like that,” she blushed and pushed a little strand of hair out of her face.

“And since I have just discovered that your skill set doesn’t include ice skating… I thought I’d teach you, if you’re okay with that,” he continued and intensely looked at her. She laughed out loud at that.

“That would be nice. Just one night might not be enough to teach me that though,” she said coyly. He bit his lip before responding.

“Then I guess I’ll have to keep taking you out until you finally learn,” he said and winked. He reached for her hand and brushed his fingers on it. Out of nowhere Kasperi appeared.

“Hey, y/n, let’s go. I have stuff to do and I can’t be late,” he said before realizing that he had interrupted something. He smiled to himself and started walking backwards.

“Oh.. I’ll see you at the car in a few. Bye, William,” he continued, chuckled, shook his head and left. Y/n ja Will laughed awkwardly at that and stood up.

“So, I’ll come pick you up around 6?” William said and looked at her. They were standing really close to each other.

“Sounds good,” she smiled and glanced at his lips. They looked so soft and she saw them turn into a smirk. She licked her lips and William took that as his cue and pressed a soft kiss on her lips.

“I’ll see you later then,” he whispered, winked once again, and started walking to his car. She brought a finger to her lips, right where Will had kissed her, and grinned.

“See you,” she said, probably not loud enough since he was already quite far from her. She went to Kappy’s car and saw him waiting outside.

“So, you guys finally going out or what?” he said and all she couldn’t help but smile. They sat in the car and left the parking lot. All of a sudden y/n gasped.

“What the hell am I going to wear tonight?!”

#william nylander #nhl imagines #nhlimagine #one shot #toronto maple leafs #toronto marlies

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muddyevil · 7 years

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Gajevy Week 2017 - Day 5 - First Date

It’s the 18th somewhere still, right? That’s not how timezones work? This isn’t late, shut up, you’re late. “So where is Gajeel-kun taking you, Levy-chan?”

The majority of the females in Fairy Tail were crammed into Levy’s small apartment, as Mira and Lucy rifled through her wardrobe. The script mage herself was sandwiched between Juvia and Lisanna on her bed, as Cana and Erza sat on the floor waiting for their opportunity to weigh in their opinions on any outfit choice. Levy turned at Juvia’s question, blushing as she did.

“I don’t actually know… He’s told me that he is going to pick me up at eight tonight, and that I should be ready for then.”

Seeing as it was currently midday, Levy didn’t think that she needed to start getting ready for at least another six hours, but the girls had other ideas as soon as she told them. At her answer Juvia practically attacked her, wrapping her arms around the smaller bluenette and squealing in her ear.

“Juvia remembers her and Gray-sama’s first date! Gray-sama took Juvia to a lake just south of Fiore, and he used his ice magic to freeze it and we went ice-skating even though it was July! Juvia thought it was magical!”

Levy blushed. It didn’t take much to get Juvia started on her relationship with Gray, and she should have predicted that the fact she had a date would set the water mage off again. Mira pulled a dress out of the wardrobe, showing it to Levy before the script mage shook her head. She hadn’t fitted in that dress for a few years. Contrary to popular belief, she had actually grown since she was twelve. The takeover mage sighed, dropping the dress to the floor before disappearing back into Levy’s scant clothes stash.

“You know, we’re probably going to have to go shopping. There’s just nothing here Levy can wear out on a date. At least Freed had the decency to give me some sort of warning so I knew what to wear.”

Lucy popped her head out of the wardrobe, holding a pair of jeans in her hand that she held up for consideration.

“What did you and Freed fo on your first date, Mira?”

The takeover mage reappeared from the depths of the wardrobe empty-handed. The look in her eyes was almost as dreamy as Juvia’s as she remembered her own first date.

“Freed took us dancing in Crocus. It was a royal ball that he got invited to after doing a job for the king and we danced all night long.”

Cana smirked, grabbing her bottle of liquor from the floor and taking a swig out of it.

“You know we really could have guessed that you and that geek would have gone on such a boring date.”

Mira pouted at the drunk, before opening her mouth to respond.

“At least my first date wasn’t just getting drunk in a bar like every other day.”

Cana just laughed back as Mira disappeared back into the wardrobe. If she was bothered by Mira’s insult she didn’t show it, and simply went back to drinking. Levy looked between all of the girls in her room before speaking.

“If I’m honest, I can’t see Gajeel taking me ice skating or dancing, and I hope he’s not taking me to a bar… Maybe I will get away with just the jeans?”

The jeans in question were definitely not casual, and paired with a nice top could pass as date wear. Lisanna grabbed them off Lucy, and added them to the pile for further consideration.

“My first date with Jellal was on a mission, maybe he’s going to take you to do a job?”

Lucy nodded at Erza’s story, giving up on dresses and looking for tops she could pair either with the jeans or with one of the skirts she had found.

“That’s exactly what Natsu did. I didn’t even realise he meant it as a date until he was bragging about it to Gray later on.”

Levy grabbed a shirt that was thrown at her, a simple black blouse that had ruffles around the chest to try to accentuate her breasts. She remembered the kind of jobs Gajeel tended to go on, and couldn’t imagine joining him in the types of clothes they were suggesting she wore. She really did hope that he knew better than to do that. In fact, none of the dates that her friends had described were really appealing to her. There was always Lisanna’s first date, but she really wasn’t holding out for whatever Bickslow had planned to be that much better.

“Lis? How about you and Bickslow, what did you do as your first date?”

The younger takeover mage blushed, pausing in her job of pairing tops and bottoms together to make whole outfits for consideration.

“Well… Bickslow and I have never really had a date. He either turns up and we do whatever comes to mind or we just stay in and…”

“Nope! Nope, nope nope.” Mira pulled back from the wardrobe with a final top in her hands, before heading over to the bed. “I do not want to know what you and Bickslow do. Now, Levy. Let’s get trying some of these on.”

They had finally settled on a black blouse and jeans, something that was nice enough if Gajeel decided to take them to a fancy restaurant but casual enough if they just wanted to a bar. Erza had lent her a scarf that was knotted around her neck, and Cancer had put her hair up in a bun. Mira and Lisanna had fussed around with her face, arguing how much make-up they should be putting on her before settling for something very minimal. Juvia had finally shooed them out of the apartment at ten minutes to eight, and Levy found herself pacing her front room while waiting for Gajeel to appear. The clock on her wall clicked forward for the ten minutes, and as soon as the second hand turned to eight o’clock, she heard three raps on the door. Levy smirked. She wondered whether Gajeel had been stood outside staring at his watch until the exact second before knocking. Swallowing down the last of her nerves, she headed over to the door, took a deep breath and opening the door to her Dragon Slayer.

Gajeel was stood outside her apartment, dressed in jeans and a button down shirt, and handed Levy a bunch of forget-me-nots the exact same colour of her hair without saying a word. Levy smiled again at the blush across Gajeel’s face as he refused to look at her. Levy took the flowers as she opened the door wider to let Gajeel in.

“Good evening, Gajeel. Do you want a cup of tea while I find a vase for these?”

Gajeel stepped through her door, but still looked awkward as he stood next to her desk and absentmindedly move papers around as Levy headed to the kitchen.

“No, thank you. We’ll have a drink where we’re going. Are you ready?”

Levy reappeared from the kitchen with the flowers in a small jar, placed them on the desk and grabbed Gajeel’s arm while they both headed to the door.

Gajeel kept quiet about where they were going all the way along the main high street of Fiore. They passed the many bars and restaurants that lined the street, and headed further along to where the buildings shifted more to shops than places to eat. They walked along in silence, Gajeel wringing his hands as he walked along. Levy never would have thought that she would have been the least nervous on their date. As Gajeel peeled off and moved down a side alleyway her brain was moving at a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out what was going on. She tried to remember the shops that were down here, but all she could think off were the small cafe, the tattoo studio and a small independent bookshop that sold specialist books that Levy couldn’t even dream of affording. Was Gajeel going to take her to get a tattoo, or a piercing? She had to admit that was a very Gajeel thing…

Levy was pulled out of her thoughts when Gajeel produced a key from his pocket to open up the shutters to the book shop. As soon as they had hit the top of their runners he proceeded to open the door and let them both in.

“Uh, Gajeel?”

The iron Dragon slayer didn’t reply as he flicked on the lights and relocked the door behind them. He disappeared behind the counter for a second, heading through a door to the back room before returning with a thermos flask full of what smelt like coffee. As he poured out the almost black liquid into two mugs he’d retrieved from under the counter he finally started to provide Levy with some answers.

“I saved the owner’s daughter from a dark guild a couple of months ago. Despite owning this place he didn’t have any money to pay for a reward, so I just left it with him owing me a favour. Now he can’t spare any of the books to give to you on a permanent basis but we’re free to come in here whenever we want.” Disappearing back under the counter he came back up with a notepad and pen, and pulled her gale force reading glasses out of his coat. He must have pocketed them when she went into the kitchen at her apartment. “I thought you might need these.”

The rest of the date ended up with Levy surrounded by incredibly rare books, and Gajeel sitting to the side and just observing her. Occasionally he would get up and provide her with more coffee, but for the most part he just watched her face light up as she found something interesting and scribbled it down in her notepad. It wasn’t a conventional date, sure, and he knew she would be feeling guilty about ignoring him in the morning (which at this point was only about two hours away) but for Gajeel, this was perfect. Despite her silence, being able to spend time with his shrimp was more than enough for him.

How long do women spend getting ready for dates? I literally get up and out in five minutes, so I have no idea. Is 8 hours too long? Too short? Someone tell me how to adult, please.

#gajevyweek17 #gajevy week #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #gajevy

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