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hunflowers · 4 years

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Cecilia

Word Count: 8k

Requested? Nope, but you always can here :)

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A/N: Yay, 70s! Harry is here :D I love it and I hope you do too my loves. And quick note, the song Cecilia by Simon & Garfunkel is basically the anthem of this piece, (*ahem* note the title) so maybe give it a listen while reading or before or after, whatever works! *nose boops*

Murder is the biggest extreme anyone could ever commit. It’s crazy to ever want to kill someone, to wrap your hands around someone’s throat, to stab them in the heart or the back, or maybe put a bullet between their eyes.

It’s extreme.

Yet, Y/N had every urge to murder Harry.

Her night was going just fine. It was going exactly how she wanted, and it was going to end exactly how she wanted. Danny was a super nice guy, a super handsome guy, and was exactly who she wanted between her legs in just a few hours time.

Fleetwood Mac was blaring over the speakers of the crowded club and Y/N was enjoying her third beer of the night as Danny held himself against her, placing sloppy kisses up the side of her neck while she circled her bottom against his groin.

It was going extremely well until Danny said he was going to get himself another drink. Then the moment one body left her, another soon joined. One, that wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Harry! Back off!” Y/N groaned, pushing his hands off her hips. She noticed him earlier in the night when she and Danny walked in but she quickly avoided any contact with him the moment her eyes laid on him, praying to herself that he never spots her.

Clearly, luck wasn’t on her side when the curly-haired, green-eyed nuisance looked down at her with that infamous smirk. “You should be happy to see me. I’m here to save y’life.”

“Save my life? By cock blocking me?” She huffed, trying to step around him but was stopped when he grabbed her by the waist and turned her back to his front. The button-front of his white shirt was held together by two buttons near the bottom, his revealed chest pressed to the skin of her back as his jeans rubbed friction against the soft material of her skirt.

“He could be a serial killer for all you know. Plus, I’m practically begging you to have my cock, so what do you need his for?” He murmured into her ear, slowly starting to sway themselves to the rhythm of the song playing. Y/N could feel the growing tent in his jeans as they rocked, her breath slightly hitching in her throat when she thought about all of their past… adventures with one another. But that’s all it was; their past.

Y/N saw Harry more often than not, but the last time they had sex was well over a month ago, and she figured he’d get the hint by this point that she wasn’t interested anymore. He’s made it obvious that he wasn’t done with her, but she doesn’t settle for too long and she needs a new taste every so often. And she’s young, she doesn’t have this desire to situate herself with one man no matter how desperate he acts.

Licking her lips and turning her head to her right to meet his eyes, their noses slightly sweep together as their breaths mingle over one another. “You’re old news, H, get real,” she hissed, her eyes raking over his features as he looks past her and into the deep crowd of the dance floor ahead of them. When she moved to remove herself from his grip, he held her back, one of his hands coming up to the back of her head and pressing his mouth down onto hers in a heated kiss.

She almost got lost in it, and almost let him have his way as she could feel her panties dampen the moment his tongue slipped past her lips. But then she heard, “Y/N?” and her mind reeled her back into reality and she pushed away from Harry in a second, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she looked to Danny who held a confused look in his eyes before he scoffed and turned back around.

“Wait!” She called, quickly turning around to Harry and sneering at him, “You saw him there didn’t you? Leave me the fuck alone.” And without even thinking about it she poured the remainder of her beer over his pants, dropping the bottle at his feet before running off to try and amend what she could with Danny.

When she finally pushed past the final group of bodies and made it outside into the warm Spring night air, she spotted Danny storming over to his car at the end of the parking lot, ignoring her pleas to stop walking. He looked over his shoulder one final time and shook his head before getting into his burnt orange Cadillac Eldorado and speeding off and away from her. Y/N let out a whine, stomping her platform heel into the ground.

Ever since she saw him stroll into her sociology class at the beginning of the semester she knew she wanted him. Not for long, but at least for one memorable night. Every class she noticed the way his eyes raked up the length of her legs and landed on her chest beneath the fabric of her shirts, so it was obvious he wanted her just as bad. But she had a serious roach problem, and she was moments away from snapping completely and snapping his neck.

Marching over to the nearest payphone, she called her roommate to come pick her up with a series of pleas and bargains since it was nearly one in the morning, and unfortunately for her roommate, she has an early morning Friday class. She didn’t expect to be stranded at this hour and she didn’t bring enough cash for a cab ride home. It’s not like Sarah would say no to her, but she sure as hell wasn’t happy about it either.

Sitting herself down on the curb below her, Y/N stretched out her legs in front of her, pulling a cigarette from her purse and her yellow lighter, putting the stick between her lips and inhaling the nicotine as she drew the flame against the tip. She was getting real sick of Harry thinking he could swoop in whenever he deemed necessary. Where was all this affection when they first started seeing each other? He was the one who pushed her away and turned her into who she is. He was the one that told her college and her early adulthood was about indulging in as many people as she can before she had to settle her life away. And now he changed his mind?

Well, tough shit.

She was tempted to storm back in there and curse him out and knee him where the sun doesn’t shine, but truth be told, she wouldn’t even handle seeing his face again without seeing red or breaking down. This wasn’t the first time he crashed a date of hers, and she just couldn’t understand why he was so insistent on chasing her down. She doesn’t even understand how he always knows where she is, and if he shows up again she’s filing for a restraining order.

They met last year, right around this time when Sarah’s boyfriend, Mitch brought him over to their apartment for a little party. And before he came crashing into her life, she had herself somewhat together, in a happy relationship with her boyfriend of a few months. People like Harry that sleep around with anyone they can were never anyone she interested herself in hanging around. Then he swooped her off her feet, coaxing her to break up with her uptight boyfriend to live her free life, and eventually into his bed.

Y/N told herself that was going to be the only time, because Harry was bad news, and everyone knew that, and she knew better than to get caught up in his messy life. But, he’s one hell of a sweet talker and whenever he was near she just knew she’d end up right back in his bed after getting out of it that same morning. Then she wanted more and he didn’t. And for some odd reason, the roles have reversed and she couldn’t be bothered to be in a relationship anymore. Especially with him.

Sucking the last bit of her remaining cigarette into her mouth, she dropped it to the street, stomping on it with her heel, picturing it to be Harry’s face instead. She’d already been out here for about fifteen minutes, and she’s surprised he hasn’t come running after her with his drenched pants. She saw his familiar light pink Plymouth sitting across the street, images of them together in the backseat flashing across her eyes before she closes her eyes and shakes her head as if rattling her brain will cause the memories to fly from her skull.

Noticing Sarah at the red light down the road, Y/N stood up, brushing the debris off her skirt and legs, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout as she sulked in tonight’s failure. When Sarah pulled up to the curb, Y/N opened the door, and as if she wasn’t being punished already, she heard Sarah say, “Hi, Harry.”

Snapping her head over her shoulder to the entrance of the bar behind her, Harry was walking out, car keys in his hand as his other ruffled his short curls. Then a petite blonde trailed after him, tripping over her own feet as a giggle left her thin lips, her nails digging into the skin of his arm as she steadied herself. Y/N’s jaw snapped shut after she realized it had dropped open at the sight, her eyebrows furrowing as she imagined stomping on Harry’s foot just like she did with the cigarette butt.

“Oh, so you get to fuck someone, but I can’t?”

“Y/N-”

“Hey, I wouldn’t waste your time on him! It’s really small, and he lasts maybe two minutes tops before he passes out,” she called to the blonde who’s smile wiped from her face in an instant. She scoffed, pushing Harry away from her before leaving his side and heading back in the busy bar. Y/N’s sure she’ll find someone else better and more suiting.

Harry looked to Y/N in disbelief and then to the spot next to him that’s now vacant, and then to Sarah who was rapidly beeping her horn to get her roommate into the car. “What the fuck was that?”

“Karma’s a bitch, asshole,” Y/N sneers, hopping into the car and telling Sarah to step on it.

What goes around, simply comes around.

❊ ❊

A week had gone by and, this time Y/N, Sarah, Mitch, and a few more friends were out. It was a celebratory night that finals week had finally been completed, and a few of them were due for graduation.

Unfortunately for Y/N, Harry had been strung along for the night as well, but this time around, they were both ignoring each other for the sake of not being thrown out of the bar. When she saw his face pull up outside in his oh so precious car, it took everything in her to not fake an illness and go home.

There was something about his smug face greeting her friends that had her knocking back shots of tequila quicker than she could blink. They also have some unspoken challenge going on as they continuously flirted their way around the copious amounts of young men and women, eyeing the other to see if they were watching.

Y/N had actually noticed Danny in the crowd on the dance floor, worming her way over to him to say hello and to see if he still hated her. When she saw him in sociology the last few classes he avoided her when she sat down a few seats from him, and she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt at his now evident rejection. But, with alcohol running in both of their systems she hoped he had changed his mind even just for the one night.

Danny looked to her with a bored expression, hardly listening to a thing she had to say before interrupting her little spiel with a scoff, “Y/N, he told me everything and I don’t want to hear it.”

She froze up at that, pulling her head back in confusion as her brows scrunched together. “What do you mean, told you everything?”

“Look, I’m not a rebound okay? If you wanted to have sex because you like me, cool, I’m down; but I’m not having sex with you just to make him jealous or some shit. I got better things to do, sorry,” and then he patted her on the shoulder before walking away and out of her sight.

Completely dumbfounded and embarrassed to have been rejected so publicly, Y/N turned on her heel and walked back to the table that her friends were sat at, a puzzled looking face nestled on her features. But, when she made eye contact with Harry who had his eyes dead set on her over the brim of his beer bottle, a little smirk peaking out and taunting her, she stomped over and slammed her hands down on the table in front of him, jolting the whole table to look at her. Harry was hardly fazed, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What the fuck did you tell him?” She gritted out, leaning her face close to his.

Again, he hardly had a reaction, jutting his tongue out to lick his lips. “Tell who, what?”

Huffing at his nonchalant attitude, she pulled on the collar of his printed shirt, their noses grazing. If she weren’t so angry, she’d say this was a pretty intimate moment as they kept their eyes locked on one another, their breaths mingling together as their mouths were only centimetres apart. In all honesty, they forgot they had friends just seats apart from them ogling the situation with worry.

To them, it looked like Y/N was about to twist his head in a full one-eighty.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Styles! You’re not my father, stop trying to act like it,” she spat, pushing him back aggressively against his chair and storming away, again. If anything, she was more mad at the fact that she let him get under her skin again. She should just go up to any guy she chooses and kiss him hard on the lips to prove a point - but instead she’s biting her lip to refrain from screaming into the night and letting the pesky tears welling up in her eyes fall onto her skin.

The bar wasn’t too far from her apartment this time, and she’d rather walk than ruin Sarah’s night anymore than she already did because of her dramatic ways. Not that she could really drive anyway since she was just knocking back tequila not even ten minutes ago. Maybe when she’s sober she’ll grow a tougher exterior and not let Harry get to her, but as she regains her balance after stumbling in her heels, she’ll sulk and cry the whole way home, and probably as she tucks herself into her sheets.

“Y/N!” Harry called after her, but she flipped him off over her shoulder as she continued her journey down the sidewalk.

Hearing the quickening pace of footsteps behind her, Y/N wiped at her eyes quickly to remove any traces of a broken heart. Feeling a tug on her bicep, she was whipped around to face his sorrowful face, his free hand immediately coming up to wipe the tears away from her eyes that seemed to betray her. “I... I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small pitiful laugh at that, looking away from him and watching the cars pass them by. “Just leave me alone, Harry.”

“Y/N, hey,” he paused, cupping his face in his large palms, trying to get her to look at him. “Baby, please look at me.”

“I’m not your baby,” she hissed, turning to look at him with a scowl.

“Got ya to look at me though, didn’t it?”

It was safe to say Y/N wasn’t amused, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. Harry nodded, realizing now wasn’t the time for joking, looking to his feet for a split second before bringing his eyes up to look at the crescent moon above them, letting out a puff of air before speaking up again. “Let’s split. Just you and me, let me make it up to you for being an ass.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in a fit of fury, her mouth dropping open in a gasp, “I’m not having sex with you! Are you ins-”

“No! M’fucking hungry and want a real meal, not the shit this joint serves. And we need to talk, so join me?” He clarifies, dropping his hands back down to his sides and propping them on his hips as he awaits her answer.

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she contemplates her choices. She really doesn’t want to be alone with him, but she’s also starving and if he’s paying then there’s no use in turning down free food. Mulling it over for a few moments, she eventually nods her head in a soft agreeance, causing a bright smile to flash across his face.

“Alright, let’s go to Debby’s, her burgers always taste better late at night.” And with that, he was tossing his arm over her shoulders and tugging her to his side as they walked in sync to Debby’s Diner a few blocks over. They both had been drinking and figured it probably wasn’t safe to drive just yet, plus it was a really nice night, and the moon looked extra bright surrounded by its little star friends.

❊ ❊

It was insanely awkward.

Probably more awkward then when they first had sex, and even that wasn’t this bad. Maybe it’s because they’ve never really had any heart-to-heart chats and this was new territory they weren’t exactly used to.

“Cecilia” by Simon & Garfunkel flowed through the empty diner, filling the tense air that could be cut with a knife. Y/N mindlessly hummed along, sipping on her strawberry milkshake, looking anywhere but at the man in front of her.

“You like this song?” Harry questioned, balling the paper straw wrapper before stretching it back out and then just squishing it again.

Licking the whip cream from the tip of her nose, Y/N nodded her head, “It’s nice.”

“It describes us.”

She looked at him confused, “Excuse me?”

“I don’t like seeing you with anyone else,” he shrugged, leaning his elbows on the metal table, tossing his straw wrapper to the side. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever, and I just get so tee’d off every time I see you out with someone that isn’t me.”

“That isn’t fair, Harry, and you know it,” she scoffs, leaning back into the booth, and crossing her arms over her chest. “Where was this months ago? When I wanted to be with you?

Poking his tongue at the inside of his cheek and swiping it across his bottom lip to reach the other side, Harry let out a sigh, running his hands over his face and through his hair. He can’t exactly pinpoint when he had a change of heart, or why for that matter, but he did and that’s all that’s important. He remembers her lying beside him, fingers dancing over the skin of his chest while her one leg was hitched over his waist as her exposed breasts were pressed flush against his side. She had asked him if they could be more than just fuck buddies and he easily turned her down in a way that wasn’t too aggressive but made it known he wasn’t one for girlfriends.

At first Y/N was okay with that, not wanting to hop into a relationship so suddenly after just leaving one, but then she wanted more. There’s something about Harry, the way he presents himself to the world, not giving a shit about anything yet at the same time being so caring towards everyone. Whenever she saw him her heart would flutter, and heat would flood her body at the thought of getting to kiss him and hold him and have sex with him whenever she wants. But, he didn’t see it that way, at least not at first, and Y/N couldn’t put herself through the heartache anymore. So, she broadened her horizons, and put Harry in her past, making him just a friend.

Then his mysterious change of heart became evident, and he’s been hellbent on getting back into her good graces. It’s clear it was sparked by jealousy, but Harry wasn’t so sure that was the only reason anymore. Desire to have her as his, to make her smile all the time, to see her pretty face everyday of his life fueled his need for her. He loathed the idea of any other guy touching her, but he reveled in the idea of her touching him, whether it be sexually or just by holding hands.

Harry didn’t realize it at first, but when she started pushing him away and going out with different guys from her classes, he knew he was starting to fall in love with her. He grew so used to the idea of Y/N being around and not hating him that without even noticing, he was falling in love with her.

So, if he needs to actually get on his knees to beg for her, then he will.

“I’m just asking for one more chance. Let me prove to ya I’m not so bad, pet,” he spoke softly reaching out to grab ahold of her hand but she pulled her hand away from his reach, biting down on her lower lip and thinking over his words.

“You made it near impossible for me to know anyone else for your own selfish purposes, and now, what, you want to go on a date with me? Why should I?” Y/N stressed, combing her fingers through the roots of her hair, tangling the makeshift curls she spent all day perfecting.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. It started off as jealousy, I hated knowing other guys were putting their hands on you like I did, it just didn’t sit right with me-”

“But you were allowed to go out with Cindy? And Jenny? And Katherine? You have sex with me a few times and all of a sudden I’m only allowed to be with you even after you tell me you don’t want a relationship?” She spits, tilting her head slightly and glaring daggers into the side of his face as he looked off to the side to gather his thoughts.

Y/N wanted a better answer than jealousy. She wanted a better excuse than some pitiful jealousy that made her look like a pure whore in front of every date she had been on. Harry always swooped in when her date scurried off for a bathroom break or to get drinks or a refill on popcorn, holding her close and kissing her swiftly on the lips when he knew the date would catch them. It was his go-to plan every time, and each time before they left her ass, they would spit slander at her that had her stomach sinking and her eyes brimming with pesky tears. She wanted a better excuse than stupid jealousy that had her feeling like complete and utter shit whenever she ducked under her covers and cried away her pain.

She really liked Harry. She still does, even though he doesn’t deserve that. Whenever he did crash her outings, even though it pissed her off beyond belief, she knew he was jealous and jealousy stems from him caring about her and wanting her, and that excited her, as messed up as it seems. It’s not exactly the most stable mentality, but Y/N doesn’t care about stability, she just cares for honesty. “Be straightforward for once, please. You can’t say you don’t see yourself in a relationship with anyone, then hate seeing me with other people.”

He nodded his head and took a breath before beginning, “I don’t know how to properly express my feelings. I’ve had girlfriends but I always wind up breaking their hearts and they all end up hating me, so I think I’m better off without one. You don’t deserve for me to break your heart, baby, but I’m too selfish to let y’go. So, whaddya say, just one more chance, please?”

“Newsflash, I already do hate you, you prick,” Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning forward to take another sip of her half drunken milkshake. She was even bold enough to steal one of his fries and dip it into the sugar trap, happily munching on it as she processes what he just told her.

Harry watched her as she looked deep in thought, biting on the tip of her straw as she sucked up the remains of her pink drink. He was nervous to what she was gonna say, because he knows he’s been an asshole and most definitely doesn’t deserve her kindness and rather deserves a slap to the face. When she poured her drink over his jeans, he was surprised she didn’t kick him in the nuts too. But, deep down he was praying that she would at least give him a try, and if she still wants to kick him in the nuts, he’ll let her.

Eating one more fry, Y/N refocuses her attention back on Harry, clearing her throat to say, “So you were jealous. What exactly was it that made you jealous? Was it the idea of them touching me? Kissing me? Or, how about them fuc-”

“Okay! That’s enough!” he scowled, taking the cherry from her shake and biting down on it, removing it from the stem. Y/N laughed, brushing the crumbs from the fries off of her fingers.

Then a brief moment of silence enveloped them, before she spoke up again, “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“So, that’s a yes?” He smiles, relief running through his veins as his body relaxes from all of the unknown tension he put on himself.

“It’s a yes.”

❊ ❊

Ever since Y/N agreed to giving Harry his chance at proving he’s not a total asshole, he hasn’t left her side. He’s been showing up to her apartment, serenading her to take a drive with him every morning to go to this park just outside of the city, showering her in flowers and breakfast foods to win her over.

And when she had to go to work, he offered to drop her off and pick her up, not wanting her to take the bus like she used to. “Too many looneys out in the world, pet.”

It was just past two weeks from their night at Debby’s Diner, and with time, Y/N was starting to warm back up to him. It was a process considering how they treated each other for months on end, but everyday without fail, Y/N was glad to see him. He wasn’t trying to make passes at her, no sexual innuendos or insinuations that they should sleep together, just two people building up a friendship that had been worn down.

It was a warm Friday night, and Harry insisted they go see a movie at the newly opened drive in a few towns over. They were showcasing The Godfather, a movie on both of their lists to watch, so he figured what better time and place to go see it. For the first half of the movie they sat in a comfortable silence, eating their snacks and popcorn and sipping on their sodas, but then Y/N grew restless with this whole no talking situation, shifting her body to look at Harry rather than Marlon Brando.

Harry paused in his chewing, turning his head to look at her confusedly as she just stared at him. He felt like he had done something wrong as he slowly swallowed his candy, muttering a “What?”

“Why haven’t you tried to kiss me?”

Harry’s eyes widen at the question, his lips rolling into his mouth as his eyes blink rapidly, wondering if he heard that correctly. “Sorry?”

“It’s been over two weeks and you’ve made no moves to kiss me or to have sex, and I’m just confused,” she states, her fingers twiddling in her lap as nerves struck her.

Y/N was just simply confused. Because she’s known Harry for a while, and she knows how he works either with her or with other women. His never ending libido and flirtatious attitude was one of the strongest assets of his personality, not that it was a bad thing, but when he wasn’t acting the way he normally does, Y/N grew more and more confused. Every time he came in on one of her dates, he would kiss her and hold her, and try to get her come home with him, but now as she sits on a date with him, he’s acting like the fucking virgin Mary.

This doesn’t mean she wants him to pounce on her and rip her clothes off every moment they’re together, but there’s this recurring anxious thought flashing through her mind that maybe he doesn’t see her like that anymore. It doesn’t make sense since he won’t leave her side, but she’s wondering if there’s something wrong with her for him to not act like he usually does.

“Is it me? Be straightforward, did I do something?” She murmured, tugging on the hem of her dress that had ridden up from her moving around on the leather seat. “Because, normally by this point you’d be trying to get your hand up my skirt.”

Harry sat and looked at her for a moment, bringing his hand up to pull at his bottom lip as he thought of something to say. Then he let out a giggle that had Y/N spiraling into more confusion as he shook his head mockingly.

“Do you want me to put my hand up your skirt?” He questioned, smacking his hand down on her thigh, giving the flesh of her skin a firm squeeze that had her yelp in response. On instinct, she pushed his prying fingers away, but immediately regretted it since his touch lit a fire stirring in her belly.

“Look, bunny, the thought of fucking you has been at the front of mind ever since you showed up in that tiny little number, but I’m trying to do this right. Need to prove that I don’t want you just for y’body,” he explained, this time resting his hand gently on her exposed thigh, to which she didn’t shove away.

Y/N nodded her head slowly in understanding, pursing her lips as her eyes glanced back at the movie being showcased ahead of them. “What’s going through that head of yours?” He asked, tucking back a piece of hair that had fallen from her ponytail.

Turning her head back to face him, their faces suddenly were only inches part, their noses barely brushing together. Y/N gulped at the proximity, her eyes going back forth between his sparkling green ones, before glancing down to his pink lips that she bets taste like the buttery popcorn he was just devouring.

Without so much of a second thought, she leaned forward pressing their mouths together in a soft kiss, sparks tingling her skin as he didn’t move to break them apart. Instead, he locked one of his hands to the side of her face, pulling her in closer, moving their lips in a slow manner, taking his time to appreciate the true softness of her skin that he had taken for granted whenever they shared heated kisses.

Y/N scooted herself on her knees across the bench, landing on his lap in a straddle, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, deepening the intimacy of the moment. Nothing about this moment seemed rushed, and it was probably the most tame they had ever been with one another even if their hips began rocking together to gain friction in their cores.

They could’ve stayed like that for hours, completely engulfed in the other, tongues dancing together, trails of spit keeping them connected as they would part to catch their breaths before indulging in another round of making out. Harry’s hands kept themselves nestled nicely on the curves of her ass, his fingers digging into the flesh and most likely leaving bruises in his wake. Y/N lightly tugged at the roots of his hair, pulling his head back from her to trail sloppy kisses down the length of his neck. She even was bold enough to mark his skin with a decently sized hickey; It was only payback for the countless he’s left on her multiple times before and the few he sucked this night.

Departing from his mouth, she rested her forehead on his and took in a couple deep breaths, biting on her bottom lip as she let out a breathy laugh. “That was what was going through my head.”

“Fuck, you’re out of sight, Y/N.”

❊ ❊

They still haven’t had sex.

Y/N was overjoyed at first that he wanted to treat her like a proper gentleman, waiting until she was comfortable around him again to make any advances. But, after they shared that kiss from a month beforehand, she was definitely worried something was wrong with him.

They had done other things, but every time they were just moments away from actual sex, he would pull away and say it wasn’t the right time or place. It was the most extreme case of blue balls, and she doesn’t even have balls. The weird part was that she could feel how hard he would get every time, but he always kept himself at bay.

It was nice at first, but now it’s just plain cruel.

Y/N didn’t want to act desperate, but he was being the ultimate tease and she didn’t know how much longer she could take this. She almost tempted him when they went to a festival and they were both high off their minds. Yet, even under the influence he had a stronghold and resisted the flirty bat of her eyelashes and the stellar handjob he got behind someone’s Volkswagen van.

Now as she sat in his lap, surrounded by friends in her apartment since Sarah and Mitch were having another one of their little parties, she was determined to have sex. Y/N finished off the remainder of her drink, purposefully rubbing her ass against Harry’s groin as she leaned forward to place her cup on the table in front of them. A little hiss could be heard leaving his lips as his fingers dug into her waist, giving her a silent warning to not do anything she’s gonna regret.

Little did he know, that was exactly what she wanted. At this point, she didn’t even care if they fucked in front of everyone, she just really wanted him. Looking over her shoulder, she sent him an innocent look before engaging in conversation with the boy almost completely passed out beside them. And again on purpose, she shifted her body against his thigh, which then in turn pressed her butt on his growing bulge.

While she was talking to Ben - she found out his name - Harry pulled her back against his chest, his mouth pressing against the shell of her ear, warm air fanning over her skin, chills shooting down her spine. “What’re y’trying to do, bunny?”

When she ignored his question, she felt him nip at her ear with his teeth, murmuring, “Act like a tease, gonna get fucked like one,” into her hair, groping at her exposed thigh.

Cursing to herself as Ben gets up to get another drink, she turns her face to look at Harry, bringing a hand up to push a few fallen curls off his forehead. Leaning close to him, she placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips replying back with, “Doubt it,” in a feisty tone, bringing her head back to smile at him before getting up from his lap and sauntering off to make conversation with anyone else.

Looking over her shoulder, she watched him spread his legs, elbows leaning on them as he lit a cigarette now between his lips. He cocked his head with a raise of his eyebrow, challenging her to try anything else. He couldn’t exactly blame her for acting the way she is, because like usual, he knows he’s been an asshole and not giving her what she wants. But, in his eyes, all of this built up frustration will only enhance the experience for both of them after not fucking for months.

“What the hell is going on between you two?” Sarah whispered in Y/N’s ear, casually following her eyes to see Harry looking at the little group on the opposite side of the room.

Y/N took the cigarette from her friend’s hands, inhaling deeply and giving it back, blowing the stream of smoke from her nose as she shrugged. “Nothing. Just putting him in his place.”

“I don’t think he got the memo,” she teased back, raising her eyebrows as a gesture that he was walking over. Then without fail, Y/N felt a tug on her upper arm and her back collided with a chest.

“Mind if I steal my girl for a second?” He asked the group to which he got shrugs in return and one person to say Think it’ll be more than a second.

Sarah waved goodbye to Y/N as she was being pulled away, doing a sign of the cross and praying hands to say she was in her prayers. Y/N rolled her eyes but mouthed a thank you anyway. Before she could comprehend, she was tugged into the bathroom, the door slamming behind her as her back was shoved against it, Harry’s hands landing on either side of her head, his face mere centimetres from hers.

Y/N smirked up at him, gently brushing her nose against his, a sinister look dancing across her eyes. “Y’know, you could’ve just taken us to my bedroom,” she hummed, dragging her finger nail down the length of his exposed chest, stopping where the first button was closed just under his butterfly tattoo on his abdomen.

“What d’ya think is gonna happen, pet?” He murmured into the skin of her neck, peppering soft kisses up until he met her jawline then worked his way back down.

“You’re gonna stop being a tease and fuck me already,” she retorted in a gasp as his one hand came up to grope at her tit in her halter top. His head came back up to level with hers, green eyes boring into hers as he tilts his head in the same challenging manner from before.

“Is that so?”

“Well, if you’re not gonna do it then I’ll get someone who will.”

Then it was like a switch was flipped in his brain, and his eyes darkened, and a devilish smile painted his face before he took her face and smashed his mouth onto hers. His hands grabbed under her thighs and hoisted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist, his front grinding on her center feverishly, both of them letting out light moans at the contact.

“We both know you’re not gonna do that,” Harry muttered between kisses, his left hand leaving her thigh and cupping her throbbing heat over her panties, his palm pressing against her clit and his fingers tapping at the pool of wetness forming on the white fabric. Y/N’s jaw slacked open, her eyes fluttering shut at the slight relief he was giving her. “No one can give it to you like I can, baby.”

Before she could utter out a response, he pushed her underwear to the side before thrusting his middle finger into her fully lubricated hole. He pumped it in slowly, teasing her walls and ignoring her pleas for more, “Admit it, no one can treat you like I can.”

Then he added his ring finger, fastening his movements against her fluttering pussy. “None of those candyasses gave it to you like I did.”

“Every time you were with them you wished it was me. C’mon, Y/N, be straightforward,” he whispered in her ear, thrusting his fingers in at a brutal force, the heel of his palm rubbing harsh circles against her bundle of nerves that had her crying out in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck... O-only you can - shit, Harry please,” she cried out, her ankles locking behind his back and pulling him impossibly closer to her body, her head knocking against the wooden door behind her.

Harry slowed his movements for a moment, bringing his other hand up to her mouth and trying to block the sounds she was emitting at an extremely high pitch. She whined into his hand, bucking her hips to build the friction back up, the familiar feeling of her high dissipating as he stilled himself. “Y/N, you’re gonna ‘ave to be quiet. Don’t want anyone hearing you. Those pretty moans are reserved for my ears only.”

Just to be sure she stayed quiet, instead of muffling her with his palm, he stuck his thumb between her lips, pressing down on her tongue and ordering her to suck. It took a lot of control to not push his jeans and briefs down his body and fuck into her the moment she started swirling her tongue around the tip of his thumb, gently sucking on it and looking at him with her innocent doe eyes. He was determined to get her to come undone now, desperate to see her face morph into one filled with pleasure as he curled his fingers against her sweet spot, thrusting against it continuously. He whispered dirty things into her ear, urging her to cum for him, saying everything she likes to hear that helps her reach her peak quicker.

Y/N’s mouth dropped open again, but this time her moans came out all gurgled and muffled as he kept his thumb right where it was. Her thighs clenched around him as she wanted to close them instinctively, her orgasm building up inside of her until he hit her g-spot one more time and then her body was shaking uncontrollably. Harry helped her to calm down, placing a kiss to her temple and slowly settling her back down on the floor, her legs wobbling a little bit before she regained her balance.

“Need to take you somewhere more private, need to hear you for what else I’m gonna do to you,” he stated before taking her hand and leading her out of the bathroom.

And that’s how they ended up in his car in a deserted parking lot, in his back seat, Y/N on all fours while he thrust into her from behind. The backseat was a bit of a tight fit for the position they were in, but neither of them really seemed to care as they were into a euphoric state of mind.

Harry’s sweaty chest was leaned over and pressing into her back, his face nestled into the crook of her neck as he tugged lightly on her hair in a makeshift ponytail wrapped around his fist. Neither of them were shy about their moans and groans, practically screaming them to the world and putting all pornstars to shame.

Aside from their sounds of pleasure, the steamy car was filled with the sound of his hips slapping against her ass and the squelch of their centers coming together. Harry also left the car radio on to ‘give a nice ambiance while I wreck your pretty little cunt.’

“What -shit, what was that you said about my dick being really small? Or me only lasting two minutes? Could you refresh my memory, bunny?” He snickered into her cheek, delivering a particularly hard thrust into her that had her knees shifting up the leather seat.

“You’re s-so tight, squeezing down on my big cock just nice. Fit like a glove,” he egged on. He placed his left hand on the wall of his car, stabilizing his balance a little more as he wrapped his other hand around her throat and brought her to a kneel. Y/N’s own hands reached out to balance herself anywhere she could put them,

“D’ya wanna say it again?” he continued to tease, halting his movements, waiting for her to say something back.

Y/N shook her head feverishly, bringing her bottom down against his cock to continue what he paused. “N-no, m’sorry.”

Harry tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he released his grip on her throat and flipped them around so she was straddling him now. “Why don’t you put some work in if you want it so bad. Use me, pet, know you can,” he stated with a smack to her bottom that echoed throughout the car.

Y/N never dropped herself down on someone quicker. In one go she sank down on him to the hilt, the tip of his bright red head hitting a spot so deep inside of her. She swiveled her hips in circles, before kneeling up again and then dropping down fully again feeling him at the very pit of her tummy. Her clit brushed against his pubic mound, the tuft of hair rubbing against her swell, urging her orgasm to arrive quicker.

And if that wasn’t enough, Harry leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, kitten licking it and gently nipping at it before sucking on it. He paid close attention to her pert tits, covering her once bare chest in various bites, all while kneading the flesh of her ass, assisting her in her movements and bringing her down on him harder and faster.

“I’m… oh, I’m so cl-close,” Y/N moaned, her head falling to the crevice of his shoulder as he pounded up into her to meet her thrusts.

“Me too, pet. Hold on a little longer f’me,” he spoke, now brutally fucking up into her to get himself to match where she is. Y/N tugged on his hair like he liked, scratching her nails into his skin and muttering words of encouragement like, “Prove to me how wrong I was… Only you can do this to me, baby.”

Then with a few more sloppy thrusts, they were both hitting their highs, cumming so hard that Harry fell limp against the seat and Y/N against him. The long wait for this was definitely worth it as both of them took in gulps of air, meeting their mouths in a lazy kiss in triumph. Despite the ache of her body, Y/N lifted herself off of Harry and landed next to him instead, her head falling against his shoulder again as her eyes fluttered close.

Now, only the hum of the radio could be heard around them, that same Simon & Garfunkel song on like it was at Debby’s all that time ago. Y/N can remember Harry saying it described them, and as she sits here, completely enamored from the man beside her, she could attest to that.

Without knowing it, Harry was looking down at Y/N, humming the tune of the song as he sat in awe of her figure completely worn out next to him.

Jubilation, she loves me again.

#EEK ENJOY!#harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles filth #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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terrm9 · 4 years

Text

Home (Ethan X MC)

Words count: 2 700 Warnings: cursing Author’s note: This is my version of events that take place after Ethan and MC (Chiara) leave Louise Ramsey at the rehab centre. It was supposed to be fluffy piece about Ethan taking MC to his place when she says she wants to go home but somehow it got a little bit angsty.

Also, the biggest thanks to everyone that supported me to write this! You guys made my heart swell and I am going to tag you because I am so, so, so thankful you encouraged me. It means a lot to me, really.

———– HOME ———-

“I should thank you more often,” Ethan let out as he leaned back into his seat, turning the engine on.

“I think I could learn to live with that,” Chiara grinned back at him, fastening her seatbelt. “I truly am proud of you Ethan. And I also can’t wait to go home.”

Ethan nodded, his gaze fixed on the road ahead of them. Chiara observed his features, testing her skills by trying to guess what exactly is going on in his head. His knuckles were turning pale by the force he held on steering wheel with, his jaw clenched and his expression forcibly neutral. It didn’t take a genius to see that there was a war of emotions inside of him, just as it didn’t take one to see that he had no intensions to share what was on his mind at the moment.

Knowing better than to push him, Chiara teared her eyes off him and despite trying her hardest to not to, she glanced at the watch at the car’s dashboard.

5:57 PM.

One minute until Sora comes to see what happened.

Chiara can’t help it. She tried, she got rid of every single watch in her apartment, she purposefully doesn’t look at her phone and yet, every single day since the accident, she keeps checking the time, repeating what happened that day.

Locked in the room with Bobby and Danny and Travis and later only with Rafael and then all by herself, all she could do was to stare at the round white watch hanged above the door and memorize the exact time of every single moment that somehow affected that day. No matter how many weeks have passed, no matter how much she tried to persuade herself, as well as everyone else that she was okay now, she kept checking the damn time every day.

“I meant what I said back then, Chiara,” Ethan spoke abruptly, breaking the thoughts occupying her mind. “That I wouldn’t have done that without you. If it wasn’t for you, I would never give Louise a second chance. I would never even try to forgive her.”

“I am not sure that’s exactly a good thing, Ethan. You have felt some way towards her for twenty-five years. You have only known me for almost two years now. I don’t think I should be the one to tell you if you should or shouldn’t forgive, it needs to be your decision. Something this huge cannot be decided on my suggestion of what I would do in the situation.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he shook his head, not tearing his gaze off the road. “It was not your suggestion that made me forgive her. It’s you. Your ability to always be kind. For twenty-five years I was angry. I was so angry with my mother and the thing is, I was proud to be angry at her. I was so proud to feel the anger, to not to look for her like my father did, I felt like caring about where she was or missing her, like that would make me weak. She did us wrong and all she deserved was my anger and hatred, right? And this was not only the case of my mother. Every time in my life someone hurt me I decided all I would ever feel for them again would be anger. Because if I have forgiven them, it would make me weak and they would be able to hurt me again. And then I met you and in you, I met a person that has always been nice to everyone. Even the people who have hurt her, even those who have been rude to her, strangers, a person that, despite my efforts to push her away, despite me being an absolute asshole, has always shown me how much she cared and that she would be there for me,” he gulped and took a deep breath before going on.

“When the leakage happened, I went to see Travis with Dr. Trinh. He never told me anything that could help us and I hated him with every single cell in my body. As I was leaving the room he was in, he asked me to help him with his pain, to increase the morphine dosage. I could see that he was suffering but I was so angry with him that I left him to suffer. It was on our way back to the hospital when it hit me. That if it were you at my place, you would never leave him to suffer, no matter how much hatred you felt. You are everything I have never been, Chiara and only now I know that your kindness, your ability to forgive, that none of it makes you weaker. That you are the strongest person I know. When I asked you what would you do, with Louise I mean, I knew very well that you would give her a second chance. I just needed to hear you say that. To remind me that if I gave her the chance, I wouldn’t be weak.”

Chiara smiled at him lightly and took his free hand into hers, not wanting to burden the lightness that surrounded them with worthless words.

Thirty minutes later, Ethan parked his car in the garage of his building and leaned his head into the seat back, closing his eyes.

“I was thinking about making Thai red curry for dinner, how does that sound to you?” he asked with his eyes still closed.

Chiara was looking at him, her expression both surprised and amused.

When it took her too long to answer, Ethan opened his eyes and turned to her.

“What is it? Do you hate curry?”

“What? No, not at all. I am just, well, surprised you took me here. To your place, I mean.”

Ethan furrowed his brows in utter confusion as he shrugged: “Well you said you wanted to go home so I took you-“

He stopped mid-sentence as he realized what has just happened. Opening and closing his mouth for a few times he was gaining himself some time to form a coherent sentence.

“I am sorry, Chiara. Jesus, I don’t know what I was thinking, I mean, I clearly wasn’t thinking. Of course you meant your place. Chiara I am so sorry, let me just take you there and-“

He was stopped again, this time by Chiara’s lips pressed against his.

You are a fucking idiot, Ramsey, he thought as she kissed him, feeling her grinning. All she wanted was to go home. Her home. The one where she lives. With her roommates. Imbecile.

“Stop apologizing,” she smiled as she broke the kiss. “The curry sounds great.”

They were sitting at the opposite sides of the table, both simply playing with the food on their still half-full plates.

“You’ve hardly even eaten anything,” Chiara pointed out when she noticed Ethan putting his fork down.

“Do you want to compare?” he asked back, gesturing toward her plate.

He didn’t say it to make her feel bad or to push her to finish her meal. Ethan knew Chiara wasn’t doing this on purpose, nor had it anything to do with his cooking abilities. Through the weeks, he’s noticed how drastically has her appetite decreased and how she hasn’t really gotten it back.

With everything going on these past few months, neither of them could actually eat or sleep.

Chiara simply shrugged and noticing the watch at his wrist, she asked: “What time is it, please?”

He watched down and answered: “Half past eight.”

“Precisely half past eight?”

“Precisely thirty-two minutes past eight. Why are you asking?”

8:32 PM.

At 8:37 they came to the room to take Rafael away because he slipped into coma.

At 8:39 Ethan told me that Danny was dead.

“Huh? I am just curious,” she lied and needing to change the topic, she asked another question. “Do you feel somehow lighter now that you got your closure?”

It was Ethan’s turn to shrug – and maybe even to lie.

“I actually do feel lighter. It was something I didn’t know I needed. But I am also scared – I promised Louise to visit her and now I feel like it was a stupid promise. I will hardly be able to see her again anytime soon.”

“I can come with you every time if it would help. Louise already thinks we are good friends.”

“She does?”

“She told me while she was in the hospital. Apparently, that’s what your dad told her.”

Ethan groaned, obviously bothered by the fact that his parents talk about him and Chiara at all. However, after a while, he simply muttered: “I guess I should give my dad an update, then.”

Chiara laughed loudly at the remark, the first real laugh Ethan’s heard from her all day. Knowing that both of them were finished with their meals, he took the plates back to the kitchen and decided to wash the dishes too while he was there. It gave him some more time to compose himself, to allow himself to simply feel lighter and happier, without the haunting feelings of doubt and fear of being hurt again.

He also felt guilty. Chiara has been through so much and even though she tried to act like she was okay, he knew her. And he could see rather clearly that she was not okay. On those precious nights they’ve spent together, he could hear her screaming from her sleep.

Please, you don’t have to do this.

Not Danny.

Not Bobby.

Just kill me.

Not Raf.

Travis stop!

Just kill me.

No. no, NO!

It could go on like this through the whole night. And here he was, burdening her with his family issues.

“You do realize that you own a dishwasher, right?” she disturbed his thoughts with wide grin on her face, leaning against a doorframe.

“I am sorry, Chiara,” he blurted out before he could even think about it. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I know you have enough on your plate and it was selfish from me to ask you to do this with me.”

She closed the distance between them and gently stopped the water, handing him the dishcloth to dry his hands. After she made sure he was all set, she hugged his waist tightly, resting her head on his chest.

Ethan circled his arms around her petite form and closed his eyes, letting her rose-yasmine perfume rule over his senses, taking him to the place where it could be just the two of them.

Where they could be happy.

Where they wouldn’t be broken.

“I am so happy you dragged me into this. I want to be part of your life and that means all the aspects of it. Let me be there for you, okay?”

“Will you stay for the night?” he whispered into her hair and felt his shoulders relax when he felt her nod.

After taking a quick shower, Ethan entered his bedroom in his grey pajama bottoms and didn’t even try to suppress a smile that found a way onto his mouth when he spotted Chiara sitting on the bed in nothing but his shirt, reading a poetry book she found on his bedside table.

“Come here,” she waved her hand as she closed the book and leaned into the bedframe.

Ethan sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for further instructions and was rather surprised when she pulled him toward her, his head landing in her lap. Immediately, Chiara started to play with Ethan’s hair, massaging his scalp softly.

“I can see that there is something else bothering you, Ethan.”

“There is.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“I am scared, Chiara,” he whispered.

Chiara simply kept stroking his hair, waiting for him to elaborate his statement.

“What if I am just like her? It makes so much sense now that I see why she left us. I finally know what I have been suspecting - and fearing - all those years. That I am the picture of my dear mother.”

“How do you mean that?”

“I have always hated her for leaving us, for running away, when really, I am doing the same thing every time life gets hard. When Naveen was dying and I thought he wouldn’t be saved, I left Edenbrook. When Dolores died, I stormed out of the waiting room when you reached out to me. After your trial when it became clear that we would be working together again, I left to Brazil. And all those times I kept telling myself that it was better for the others, that I was doing it for the hospital, for Naveen, for you, when really, all I was doing was running away like a fucking coward I was. All those years I blamed my mother for hurting us and now I am doing the same to the people I care about. What if I can never change? What if I am destined to be the same failure she was? What if I hurt you again?”

There was a long silence.

Ethan hugged Chiara’s waist and closed his eyes, scared that she realized that he was right and would leave him now.

Chiara’s eyes were filled with tears as she pressed her lips on Ethan’s head, her heart broken for the man with the biggest heart, only to have it filled with so much hatred and doubt toward himself.

“If there’s something you are destined for, Ethan, it’s all the great, beautiful things in this world. And you deserve someone to show you how worthy of love you are. I will be here with you tonight, okay? Try to sleep. I am not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

He simply nodded, the words stuck in his throat. As if there were any words that could ever describe the way he felt with Chiara.

After she was sure that Ethan was deeply in his sleep, Chiara gently untangled herself from his grip and headed back to the living room, where she left her phone. She knew that Sienna was on her night shift tonight and so she needed to text her.

It became their ritual through these past weeks, checking on each other on the nights they didn’t spend together.

Chiara knew that, just like herself, Sienna was far from okay. She knew they were both trying their hardest to act normal and she also knew that they were both failing miserably. But Chiara had Ethan looking out for her.

Sienna had no one.

There were nights when they would sleep together in Chiara’s room, crying, talking about Danny and how much Sienna missed him, hugging each other until the sleep found them. And when they couldn’t be together, they would text each other to make sure that the other one was as alright as she possibly could be.

After returning back to the bed, Chiara found Ethan sleeping on his side, his back turned to her. Trying to adjust her little body behind him so that she could be the big spoon for tonight – which was ironic really, as she could never be anything big compared to Ethan – she wrapped her hand around his torso and after making sure that his breaths were slow and steady and therefore he was asleep, she said the words she wanted to tell him for a long time but never did, afraid of scaring him.

“I love you.”

After that, she closed her eyes and not even a minute later, she drifted off.

Ethan felt her small, warm arm as she wrapped it around his body, but decided to pretend to be asleep, not wanting to ruin the moment and also her attempt to somehow surround him completely.

His whole body stiffed at her words and it took him all the willpower he had to not to turn around and look at her. Only when he heard her soft snores indicating that she was asleep, he enlaced his fingers with hers on his chest as he whispered:

“And I you.”

Once again, THANK YOU GUYS: @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @catchinglikekerosene @udishaman @messrprongs

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #sienna trinh #chapter 16

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sunny-flower-girl-01 · 4 years

Text

Ohana- A Hawaii Five-0 Fanfic Chapter Five

This chapter is not what I wanted, but I'm not too sorry about how it planned out. I'm sorry it's so short but I wanted to try and get back on a schedule after last week. I had no kids at work so I was on office duty all week and had absolutely no time to write. I got this out in two days so go easy on me lol. Please enjoy this chapter though! It's nothing but Steve and Thea :)

Thea’s POV:

I could stop the tears falling the entire time I waited for Steve. I moved from the bar to the couch and stared at the papers in front of me. My father wants custody of Nora. After all these years, he’s deciding now to be a father. He has some nerves. I glanced over at the pictures on the wall of me and Nora throughout the years. The memories I had made with her, the childhood she had because of me. I did everything in my power to give her a childhood, something I didn’t have myself. I made sure she was able to be a kid and didn’t have to take care of anyone like I did. I never cared that she wasn’t biologically my daughter. She was MY baby. I raised her. Not him or anyone else, it was me. This can’t be happening right now.

A loud knock came from my front door. “Thea!”

I slowly got off the couch and rushed to the door. As soon as the door was open, I wrapped my arms around him tightly. I had never hugged him before, but God, I’m going to start hugging him now. He arms wrapped around me instantly and moved me farther into the house. I heard the door close behind him. It felt so calming being held by him.

His hands rubbed my back soothingly as his head rested on mine. “What happened?” He asked quietly.

I buried my face in his chest. “He’s going to take her from me.” I sobbed. Steve pulled back and looked down at me. He kept his arms wrapped around me.

“Who’s taking who from you?” He followed me to the living room. I picked up the papers and handed them to him. He studied them for a moment before looking at me. “Whose Peter Kenwood?” He asked.

I lowered myself onto the couch. Steve reached out and helped me down before sitting next to me. “He’s mine and Nora’s... Father. If you even want to call him that.” I wiped my eyes. “He hasn’t even seen Nora, never even protested when I got custody the first time but now, he wants to have full custody of her!” The sadness has passed now, and I was angry. How could my ‘father’ do this to me? How the hell does he think he is? Well, I know who he is.

Steve continued to read through the papers. “This is just a petition to change custody. No decision is being made just yet.” He said. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently. I was starting to notice that little squeezed like that was something he did often. Like he did it as a reassurance that he was here.

I looked up at him, his green eyes staring directly into mine. “She’s not going anywhere. No one is going to let him take her from you. I’m not going to let him take her from you.”

Another tear slipped down my cheek as he said it. “He has a lot of friends and business associates… He might win.” With my elbow propped on the back of the couch, pressed my forehead against my palm. “He has enough money to get a whole team of lawyers, I can’t even afford one.” I groaned. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump all this on you.” Steve wiped my tears away with his thumb as he cupped my cheek.

“That’s why I’m here, Thea.”

I shook my head and looked up at him. “I just don’t know what to do. She’s MY daughter, Steve. I can’t lose her.” The anger was coming back. I blame the pregnancy for the mood swings.

“Between you and Five-0, he won’t stand a chance of getting her, okay?” He pulled me close to him, kissing the top of my head. “Just let me do some digging around.”

God, having him hold me felt amazing. I had dreamed about this for weeks, not exactly having imagined it like this though. Having to comfort me in a situation like this was not something I thought I would be going through right now. I wrapped my arms around his middle and leaned into him. He kept his arms around me as he put the papers back in the envelope and tossed them on the coffee table. He leaned back onto the couch, never letting go of me. We sat there together for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything. I turned my head slightly, so my forehead was against his shoulder. Steve had his head leaned down on mine. Almost as if he were enjoying having me in his arms like I was.

“I’m sorry I pulled you away from the party.” I said quietly. I still didn’t trust my voice to not break down again.

He shook his head again. “You didn’t. Everyone left a few minutes after you did.” He paused for a moment. His hand was still running up and down my back. It hasn’t really stopped since he got here. The hand traveled up to my shoulder and squeezed gently. “I would have come anyway.” He whispered into my hair.

I couldn’t keep the slight smile off my face even if I tried. I sat up a little bit to look at him, our faces were just a few inches apart. “Thank you for coming.” I whispered.

He smiled softly at me. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Before I could stop myself, I pressed my lips to his. I felt Steve move slightly and I quickly backed up and got off the couch.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I did not mean to do that!” Steve stood up from the couch and reached for my arm.

“Thea-” I pulled out of the reach and headed to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled. I leaned against the bar and put my head in my hands. ‘What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that! He doesn’t see you like that! You’re the mother of his children.’ I groaned and tried to keep my tears back. ‘He probably thinks you’re hormonal’. I didn’t look up at Steve when he walked into the kitchen. I bet the look on his face was the serious aneurysm face that Grace talked about. I fucked up big time. He came up right behind me, his hand on my arm light, like he expected me to pull away from him.

“Thea, please look at me.”

I hesitantly turned around and looked up at him. “Look, I’m sorry. That was inappro-” I was cut off by him cupping the back of my neck and pulling me to him. His lips pressed against mine a bit rougher than the first time, holding me close to him. I put my hands up on his chest to push him back, but I couldn’t. I melted into the kiss, my hands moving up his chest to wrap around his neck. His other arm moved down my back and around my waist. He pulled me as close as he could with my bump in the way. Before I had a chance to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, but didn’t let go of me. Our foreheads are still touching, and I could still feel his breath on my face. My eyes were still closed. I was scared that if I opened them, he was going to push me away.

His thumb stroked my cheek gently. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a few weeks now.” He whispered.

One of my hands moved to his wrist and squeezed gently. “Don’t do that if you don’t mean it.”

He kissed me again but pulled away before I could react to it. I finally opened my eyes to see him looking down at me. “I mean it, okay? I’ve wanted to tell you for the last two weeks, but I didn’t know how, as cheesy and cliche as that sounds. I like and care about you, Thea.” He said, looking me in the eyes. “I know the situation we’re in right now isn’t exactly normal,” His hand went to my stomach. He only touched my bump once when I felt one of the babies move. We had tried to see if he would be able to feel it, but he couldn’t. I was hoping in the next few weeks he’d finally be able to feel them move like I had been. “But I want to be with you.” He said. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

I took a deep breath and tried, for the umpteenth time tonight, to keep the tears from falling. ‘Goddamn pregnancy hormones’ I pushed away from him a bit so I could look at him. “Steve, I want to be with you too, but it isn’t just me I need to worry about.” He nodded in understanding. “Nora is the most important person in my life. I need you to know and understand that before anything can happen. I’m always going to choose my kids over anything else.” Most guys tended to run off after I made that confession. Though I was never sure if it was the kid part or the not coming in first on my list of priorities, that scared them away. I didn’t think that it would scare Steve away. He is about to have twins. But I knew it was something that still needed to be said.

He nodded again. “I know. I know how important Nora is to you. Honestly, she’s become important to me too. She’s a great kid and I…” He took my hand again, holding it close to him. “I want you both.”

I smiled, walking closer and looking up at him. ‘How have I not noticed how much taller he is?’

“Well, luckily for you, we’re both pretty fond of you.” I grinned. He leaned down to kiss me, but we were interrupted by my phone going off. I pulled away from him. “That’s probably Rachel.” I said. I walked into the living room and picked up my phone.

“Hey Rach.” I sat on the sofa.

Steve’s POV:

I couldn’t help but grin to myself as I watched her walk to the living room. I spent the last few weeks going over and over about how I was going to tell her I had feelings for her, only to have her kiss me. I really didn’t see that coming, but I knew that I should have. Danny had been telling me that I was freaking out over nothing and that I was doing what I always did when feelings were involved. I was panicking. ‘You need to thaw out your heart sometimes and let people in’ Is what he’s been telling me since I met him. Between my family issues and my life in the military letting people in like that was somewhat foreign to me. But after this with Thea, I wasn’t as scared anymore.

I glanced around at the kitchen. I had only been inside her apartment a few times. Once when I helped Thea carry groceries up. ‘She doesn’t need to be doing that on her own, not while she’s pregnant’ And once when I sat with Nora for a few minutes while Thea was getting her bag ready to spend the night at Danny’s. It was a cute place, but like she said earlier, not big enough for her, Nora, and two babies. As I looked around, I smiled at the pictures of her and Nora she had on the fridge. There was no way I was going to let someone, biological parent or not, take Nora away from her. It was clear to anyone that saw them together that Thea was her parent, not Peter Kenwood.

I looked into the living room and smiled again at Thea. She was telling Nora goodnight.

“Good night baby. I’ll see you in the morning okay?” I said softly, smiling as she talked.

I knew from here on that these were my girls. I wasn’t going to let anyone take them away from me.

Please let me know what you think! I'm currently writing the next chapter so hopefully it'll be up soon. I already have the twins named picked out, I'm hoping you guys like them. If you have any ideas for the gender reveal I would love to hear them!

#steve mcgarrett imagine #Steve McGarrett #steve mcgarrett x reader #Danny Williams #danny danno williams #Book Em Danno #CHIN HO KELLY #Kono Kalakaua #rachel edwards #mindy shaw #love #grace williams #pregnancy

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, kevaaronday!

For @kevaaronday. I tried to use all the tropes you liked, though I played a bit with the coffee shop!AU request. It ended up being pretty long, but I hope it pleases. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Read On AO3

*****

Food, Drinks, and Pings

Stiles just wanted to clear things up—he did not work for Hale Corp, and he certainly did not work for said company’s inhouse café, The Family Bean. He was a writer, who just so happened to have been roped into the gig because he was best friends with the soulmate-fiancée of the best friend of one of the sons of the company’s owners.

See, one of Stiles’ best friends from high school was Erica Reyes, blonde, vivacious, and both crazy and powerful enough to castrate someone with her fingernails. She might look like she just stepped off the catwalk, with her hourglass figure, fluffy hair, and red lips, but she had a knack for business that led to a scholarship at a reputable business school. Stiles, on the other hand, took to writing like a duck to water, thanks to his overactive imagination and ability to turn a phrase. He could write anything and so he did—news pieces, articles, blogs, reviews, as well as a modestly famous soulmate series published under a pseudonym.

Erica’s soon-to-be husband and soulmate was Vernon Boyd III, a tall, dark, and delicious drink of chocolate, who was so fit he could bench press a baby elephant without breaking a sweat. He was the perfect picture of seriousness and silence, that Stiles used to wonder how he functioned as Hale Corp’s Director of Operations. After getting to know him better, he realized just how smart and charismatic Boyd really was.

Boyd’s best friend from childhood was Derek Hale, one of the sons from the famous and powerful Hale Family, owners and leaders of the mass media company, Hale Corp.

Stiles knew of the Hale Family, and who didn’t? You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t know the famous family of business tycoons and titans, a family so rich they could buy a person’s soul even. Nor would someone fail to hear about one of the most powerful love stories that rocked the world.

Talia Hale was the eldest child of the main branch of the Hale family and was poised to take over the world. Desmond Fitzgerald, in contrast, was the only child of elderly parents, and they lived at a shabby, squat house with no electricity, scraping by each and every day.

Talia’s father, the late and great Everett Hale, had visited the local community college as part of their charity program. Talia had tagged along, nineteen and already learning the ropes, and had tripped over the custodian who had been on his hands and knees straightening the welcome carpet.

Take a guess who the janitor was.

An accidental brush of skin, the burning of a Mark, and that was it.

Talia and Desmond turned out to be soulmates, and their Marks, her howling wolf and his crescent moon, had become one of the most romantic symbols of their time.

Now, where did Stiles and The Family Bean came in, you ask?

Aside from writing, Stiles knew his way around a kitchen. His mother had passed away when he was seven, and he had grown up with a Sheriff father who only knew the basics. Stiles had to learn how to cook a meal or risk them subsisting on fried everything and endless takeout orders.

So yes, Stiles knew how a kitchen worked. The thing was, Erica didn’t, and had spent high school eating Stiles’ meals and hanging around his kitchen. Nothing soothed her viciousness and temper like one of his desserts.

So whenever Erica was close to breaking someone’s jaw and risking a lawsuit, she’d invite Stiles over and he would come and work his magic at The Family Bean. It wasn’t like it was such a hardship. The place had a gorgeous kitchen, a full pantry, and a really comfy setup with cozy booths and colorful tables and chairs.

It wasn’t only Erica who benefited. Stiles often found inspiration at the tail end of a whisk or in between beating a dough into submission while listening to Erica’s gossip. He had come to depend on her brand of sass whenever he was suffering from writer’s block, or dealing with annoying clients, or avoiding his editor, Danny Mahealani.

It got to the point that Erica had HR make him a permanent guest entry pass—written down for Stiles S, Food Guy—and everyone knew him by name, the security, the delivery boys, the café’s actual employees, and some of Hale Corp’s employees.

That was what he meant by his original statement: He did not work for Hale Corp or The Family Bean. He was just Erica’s food guy and personal chef. Just another title to add to personal punching bag, platonic soulmate, best friend, and partner-in-crime, among others.

Boyd was surprisingly calm about the guy constantly hanging around his soulmate. Then again, no one would choose Stiles’ skinny ass for Boyd’s lusciousness, so Stiles could understand that he wasn’t much of a threat. Erica said that Boyd knew they were a package deal, and it helped that Boyd had been won over by Stiles’ banana bread. Either way, Boyd was cool and didn’t punch Stiles in the face for his and Erica’s weird platonic love affair.

So, in the end, that was Stiles’ life—work, his Dad, Erica, and his other friends.

Then the Hales happened.

It all started on a fine Monday morning with Kira Yukimura. She was pretty and petite, and the goddess who was actually the one in charge of The Family Bean’s kitchen. She wore floral dresses with studded combat boots, and held katana wielding lessons on Saturdays and a kids’ kitchen workshop on Sundays. Stiles adored her.

So when he walked in that day—after spending the entirety of the weekend not writing, because his protagonists, Peter and Wade, were being idiots—only to hear Kira’s cries for help, he was more than happy to tag in.

“I’m not crying.” She glared at him from where she was assembling sandwich orders, her gaze as sharp as her swords.

“But you still need help,” Stiles said. He put his laptop bag in one of the employee lockers, rolled up the sleeves of his red sweater, and put on an apron. “Erica wants to do lunch, but I decided to come in early.”

Kira nodded towards the window. “All right, because I got a purple ticket for you.”

Stiles jumped up. “Ooh, cool! I’ve never handled a purple ticket before!”

Kira gave him a relieved smile. “Well, today’s your lucky day. One of my employees called in sick, another is late, and I’ve got five packed tickets from different departments, three of them being rush orders, not to mention today’s purple ticket is a little too vague. I’m both swamped and stumped.”

“I’ve got your back, K.” Stiles gave her a salute and bounced over to the ticket tacked up on the holder.

Purple tickets were orders sent straight from the Wolf’s Den. It was the codename for the top floors occupied by the Hale Family and their closest associates. Boyd and Erica’s office were there, too. Stiles had only ever seen it through photos. There was a lot of security posted there, as if guarding the gates of heaven.

Anyway, purple tickets meant VVVVIP orders, note the number of ‘very’s. Kira usually handled those, but she obviously needed help now.

“Now, what do the Lords and Ladies want?” Stiles murmured to himself.

The Family Bean:

MH: hot chocolate

CC: pancakes

SHB: waffles

VHB: dirty chai

LH: anything

“You know who’s who?” Kira called out.

“Yep, I got it,” Stiles replied. He learned about this from Erica.

MH was Matthew Hale, the firstborn son and heir to the kingdom. CC was his seven-year-old daughter, who everyone called by her nickname. SHB was five-year-old Spencer, and VHB was his mother Valerie Hale-Barone, the firstborn daughter, second eldest, and the lawyer of the family. LH was Laura Hale, the third eldest and the maverick of the family. She was the only one not directly working for Hale Corp, and was more involved their side projects.

“Purple tickets are usually like that,” Kira said, looking at him with amusement. Stiles realized he had been frowning in confusion. “Despite being insanely rich people, they’re surprisingly not very picky about what they eat. Laura, in particular, will eat anything. It’s just difficult to give them variety or find a balance between upscale and too simple.”

“And now you want me to take a crack at it?” Stiles asked.

“Sure. It’ll be in my name anyway, and I don’t mind if you go wild,” Kira said encouragingly. It made Stiles grin. Most would be horrified at handing over their precious menu to someone who wasn’t a baker, much less someone who wasn’t a legitimate employee. But Kira had always been a rebel.

Under Kira’s guidance, Stiles filled up a purple delivery bag for the Hales. The dirty chai latte was pretty straightforward, though he didn’t know how Kira usually made it, so he went with his own style. He also made a raspberry hot chocolate, strawberry cheesecake pancakes, mixed berry waffles, and, for the anything portion of the ticket, a berry breakfast parfait made of yoghurt and fruits and graham crackers.

“Tastes awesome and looks pretty as a picture too,” Kira said, nibbling on her own waffle as she sat atop the counter, swinging her legs to and fro. Stiles could see a hint of her soulmate Mark under her dress just on the outside of her thigh. “I still believe you should have been a baker rather than a writer.”

Stiles grinned as he hung up his apron. “I’m both, but one pays the bills and the other’s a hobby. It’s surprising how most people would think one’s the other.”

“Kira?” a voice called out.

Kira perked up and immediately slid off the counter. She straightened her skirt and stepped out the door of the kitchen.

“Good morning, Derek,” she greeted.

Stiles peeked out unashamedly through the service window.

Tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, DH or Derek Hale was the middle child of the family. He was the Chief Financial Officer, and was said to be shyer and quieter compared to his more unruly and flashy siblings. It made sense why he was childhood friends with Boyd. The two seemed to share a calm, quiet demeanor.

Stiles had always thought that Derek was quite handsome in an already attractive family, and every once in a while, he would get front row seats—or the view through the service window—to the man in the three-piece suit with the godly shoulder to waist to ass ratio. It was quite inspiring.

“I heard Val and the others had a purple ticket sent down,” Derek was saying to Kira. “I’m on my way up and I thought I’d bring it along and save you a trip.”

“Oh, thanks, Derek. I’ll get it from the back,” Kira replied. “How about you? Do you want anything?”

Derek thought about it. “Just a drink. Anything you want to make me.”

“So long as it’s sweet?” Kira teased, which made the man chuckle.

It was like a bulb lit up in Stiles’ head.

He met Kira at the door when she walked back in, and it said so much about how awesome she was because she immediately said, “Yes, Stiles, you can make whatever you want. I mean, you’ve already tried your hard at the purple ticket. Might as well go all the way.”

“Thanks, K. You’re a goddess.” Stiles bounced off to the machines. He had always liked a challenge.

In the end, Stiles added his specially made ‘very merry berry frappe’ into the bag. He made sure to put it in a cup cozy to hide the purple color. He wasn’t sure if Derek would mind, but it just wouldn’t do for one of the bosses to be seen with a colorful drink. He let Kira whisk the bag away and they watched Derek exit The Family Bean.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” Stiles murmured, eyeing the man’s backside.

“I’ll drink to that.” Kira giggled, clinking her extra glass of frappe against his. “And you’re teaching me the recipe by the way.”

“Not on your life.”

It took eight days before Stiles could once again visit The Family Bean. He had had a burst of inspiration following his last visit and had locked himself up in his apartment. His Dad John and his editor Danny were used to these binges, so they had taken turns visiting him to make sure he was alive and eating actual food rather than inhaling takeout, junk food, and soda.

He had sent off the first few chapters to Danny yesterday and had then slept for about eighteen hours, before Erica had barged in to make sure he hadn’t died. She had been pissed at him last week, annoyed that she hadn’t sampled Stiles’ berry-filled menu, but she’d gotten over it and had even brought groceries before dragging Stiles to The Family Bean for some fresh air and free lunch.

And if that wasn’t enough to perk Stiles up, she and Kira proceeded to tell him how well-received his menu was.

“The kids absolutely loved it, and Laura practically licked her parfait cup clean,” Kira said as they sat around the table for lunch. She had prepared honey sesame chicken, egg rolls, and sweet potato salad. She definitely had Stiles beat when it came to savory meals.

“Valerie was surprised that her dirty chai tasted great. She wasn’t biting people’s heads off more than usual,” Erica shared. She was running her fingers idly over her soulmate Mark, the three claw marks that spanned across her forearm.

Stiles felt pleased at the compliment, but he couldn’t help sending Kira an apologetic look. He didn’t want to usurp her clients and her kitchen.

Kira just laughed. “It’s fine. I know it’s due to your magic fingers and secret recipes. Just teach me how you do Valerie’s dirty chai and we’re good.”

“Sure thing, but it’s nothing special” Stiles said. “I did bring dessert, as thanks for letting me play around last time.”

Kira bounced on her seat. “Tomato pie?”

“With extra bacon and jalapeños, just how you like it.” Stiles grinned and showed her the pie, making Kira squeal.

“You gals eat up. I’ll mix us up some lattes, if you want anything,” he offered.

Stiles went to the kitchen to fix up Erica’s usual iced cinnamon honey latte and Kira’s vanilla almond. He was in the middle of finishing them up when he heard voices out at the main area. He recognized Boyd’s low voice and decided to make him a cup of blond roast with soy milk. He paused when he heard unfamiliar voices and took a peek out the service window. He instantly recognized the small group that had joined Kira and Erica.

There was Boyd, who immediately sat down beside Erica and kissed her cheek. His soulmate Mark was obvious, a rose on the back of his left hand. Stiles liked their marks, very beauty and the beast.

Having come in with Boyd was Derek, who looked just as handsome as he always did in a fetching dark blue suit. With him were his younger siblings, twins Cora and Cameron Hale, the artists of the family, who made music and art, played a bevy of instruments, and also drew and painted. Stiles was only two years older than the twins, but they had more talent in their pinkies than Stiles had in his whole body.

The twins’ Marks were one of the most popular, not just because the two were celebrities, but also because they were incredibly visible. Even from a distance, Stiles could see the compass between Cora’s collarbones and the lighthouse that popped up over Cameron’s collar at the left side of his neck.

Suddenly feeling shy, Stiles stayed in the kitchen and watched and listened.

“Nice spread, Kira. Is that for us?” Cameron asked.

“No, you Hales have your own food upstairs,” Kira said. “I heard Wild Flour Italian sent lunch over.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Jennifer Blake owns that joint. She’s been trying to get us to come over. No doubt she’ll just use it as some sort of advertisement. I’d rather take a bite of this.” She pointed at their table.

“That pie looks good,” Cameron said. “Can I have a bite?”

Stiles saw the gleam in Erica’s eye.

“Go on,” she said. “They’re good.”

Stiles watched as Erica and Kira offered the Hales a slice each. For some reason, he felt anxious to hear about how his food will be received. It had been nice to hear the rave reviews from Kira and Erica, but it was different seeing their reactions in person.

Cora let out yum-yum noises, which buoyed Stiles’ spirit.

“Okay, that’s pretty tasty. I love the caramelized bacon.”

“Wait, is this tomato in pie? Like a tomato pie?” Cameron asked, inspecting his plate. He took a large bite.

Kira bounced on her seat in excitement. “Yes, isn’t it good?”

“Who made this?” Derek asked. He didn’t look displeased, but he didn’t look happy either. He had a really good poker face. It might be good for business, but it was hard for Stiles to interpret. Stiles noted that he kept on eating the pie though.

“My Food Guy,” Erica said with a smug grin.

“Her Food Guy’s the one who made the berry-eautiful purple ticket that received quite the sensational reviews,” Kira added. She glanced at the service window and Stiles knew she saw him hiding there.

“The one who made my drink, too?” Derek asked.

Kira nodded. “The same one.”

“Spence went gaga for those waffles,” Cameron said. “And Mattie couldn’t believe someone got CC to eat fruit.”

A loud ring cut through their conversation and everyone started pulling out phones to check. It was Derek’s.

“Mom’s calling. Time to go,” he said, standing up.

In reply, Cameron started shoving the rest of the pie in his mouth and also popped in a couple of egg rolls.

“Where’s the Food Guy, though?” Cora asked, head turning to the kitchen. Stiles ducked down behind the counter. “If he makes stuff like this, I wanna meet him.”

“You can order a purple ticket if you want, but he’s not here all the time,” Erica said, and Stiles glared at her in his mind.

“He works part-time?” Derek asked.

“Not quite,” Kira said. “He’s—”

They were interrupted once more by a ringing phone, and this time Boyd spoke.

“Talia wants you all upstairs. Now.”

Stiles peeked out again. Cameron attempted to bring the entire pie tin, but settled for polishing his slice off. He then joined Cora in writing up a purple ticket order. After a moment, Derek put an order in too. The Hales left in a hurry and Stiles leaned right out of the service window just as Kira came bouncing towards it.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Boyd said, with a smirk.

Kira giggled. “Order up, Food Guy. You got a purple ticket.”

“I’m so proud.” Erica mockingly wiped a tear away. “Stiles, my Food Guy, charming the Hales off through the power of food.”

“Oh, fuck you all.” Stiles glared, ducking back into the kitchen.

At the last minute, he reached out and grabbed the purple ticket from Kira, ignoring the others’ laughter.

Over the next three weeks, Stiles prepared four more purple tickets. According to Kira, his drinks and desserts had become quite attractive to the Hales, both because of the taste and the mystery.

“At this point, they don’t even want me handling the tickets. They always ask if The Food Guy is around before they send their orders down,” Kira said. This time, she was the one helping Stiles prepare and pack.

The Wolf’s Den was going to be holding meetings nonstop, so Stiles had to prepare a variety of drinks and snacks. It would have been easy if they had simple requests, but the Hales were a mix of eclectic and frustrating.

“I’m glad you’re cool about this, but the Hales are bound to find out that the one making all their desserts isn’t even an employee,” Stiles said, as he added an extra shot of syrup in Laura’s honey and milk iced coffee. Just like her usual orders, she had asked for ‘any drink that’s sweet’ which was such a large ballpark that Stiles wanted to clock someone over the head, maybe her.

“I’m more surprised that you keep making these for free,” Kira said.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s a challenge, and I like challenges.”

“Really, just for the challenge?” Kira asked. “Stiles, Valerie fell in love with your version of her dirty chai. I did it the exact same way you did, but she insists that it tastes different. Same with Cameron’s favorite spiced coconut coffee. Same with all the desserts you made for the kids…”

Her face turned serious. “Don’t you think there’s more to this? Don’t you think it’s a ping—”

“It’s just for fun, Kira. It’s nothing,” Stiles said, heart rabbiting in his chest. He pushed it down firmly. “Plus, it’s surprisingly inspiring for my stories. Right now, I’m writing a new story for my spy series and I’m trying to solve this thing going on between James and Quentin.”

Kira’s face fell but she smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “Ah, well. Whatever you say, Food Guy. I’m just happy I get free labor out of it.”

“So you’re the Food Guy?”

The two of them jumped up in surprise and they turned around to see that someone had come in through the kitchen doors.

“Nathan, hello!” Kira greeted. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

Nathaniel Hale was the youngest of the brood at nineteen, and with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he was quite the heartthrob in an already beautiful family. If that wasn’t enough, he was an athlete and a rising star in soccer.

Stiles didn’t really care at the moment, too busy wondering if the kid had heard what Kira had been saying.

Nathan leaned against the counter. “Everyone was arguing over who was going to pick up the ticket this time. I walked out while Laura was arm wrestling with Cam.”

Kira laughed while Stiles looked away, suddenly awkward.

“Uh, that’s cool and all, but I’m not remotely interesting enough to warrant an arm wrestle.”

Nathan shrugged. “Your stuff tastes amazing.” He smiled at Kira. “No offense, Kira. You’re still queen. But you… you’re interesting.” He gave Stiles a look. “You know, I’ve been ordering the same caramel vanilla iced coffee from The Family Bean for years now. You made it once and now everything else tastes different.”

Stiles couldn’t help flinching. Oh yeah. Nathan had definitely heard Kira.

But Nathan turned to Kira, breaking the stare. “Anyway, is the ticket ready? Can I take it up?”

Kira smiled and handed over the bag. “You just want to lord your victory over the others.”

“Of course. That’s what having siblings is all about.” Nathan scoffed, but grinned. “Anyway, thanks.”

Kira smiled. “Enjoy your meal.”

Stiles watched Nathan leave and rubbed his left shoulder. He had a weird feeling about all this.

A single touch was all it took to find someone’s soulmate. However, people couldn’t just go around touching one another. Some did, but there were laws against touching people without their consent. So Nature, in all its wisdom, gave people the capability to locate their soulmates by following a trail.

The best trail was through family members. Take for example one other famous Hale love story, that of Valerie. Her husband, the Italian magnate Piero Barone, was from a family of vintners. During Talia and Desmond’s trip to Italy, they met Piero at a wine tasting event and immediately felt what Mark experts called a ‘ping,’ a connection between them that hinted at the identity of Piero’s soulmate. Piero followed the Hales to America, met the family—all of which gave off similar pings—was finally allowed a Touch Test with Valerie, and the rest was history.

There were other kinds of trails, like what happened between Boyd and Erica. They both attended the same university, though Boyd had graduated several years earlier. However, even without knowing Boyd, Erica inadvertently joined the same groups and organizations that he had, and even lived at the same apartment that he had rented when he had been a student. Then after Erica graduated, she decided to take a year off to travel. Months later, when Boyd went on sabbatical, he ended up following almost the exact same itinerary. They finally met by chance during an alumni event and got to talking, which revealed all of the things they had in common. Before the event was even halfway through, they had done a Touch Test and found their match.

Stiles’ favorite trail story was of his parents’. John and Claudia met when they were children. Having no siblings, they didn’t have the benefit of a family trail, and being young meant there weren’t a lot of experiences that could link them. However, they had always known there was something special about one another. They grew up together, grew apart, and met later on in life. They still didn’t have the same life experiences—she was a librarian, he was a deputy—but the moment they saw one another again, they just knew.

Sometimes people just knew.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t know we were serving twink in the menu.”

Ordinarily, that comment would have had Stiles lashing out with his sharp tongue, but upon looking up, he hesitated. First of all, the other person was clearly drunk and it was only, Stiles checked his watch, three-forty-seven in the afternoon. Second, the other person was none other than the infamous Peter Hale, Talia’s younger brother.

The eternal bachelor, he was called, well known for his many dalliances and relationships. He was also the Hale with the most well-known Mark, not because it was at a visible spot, but mostly because he tended to flaunt the large image of a bird in flight that was across his chest via his tendency of wearing unbuttoned shirts.

In Stiles’ opinion, Peter reminded him of one of his book characters—the rich and powerful Anthony, who, underneath all the bravado, was desperately looking for his soulmate, only to find it in the fair-haired, gentle-hearted Steven, who wouldn’t take his crap. He wondered who Peter’s soulmate was.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Uncle, come back here!”

Stiles looked up to see Derek jogging over to them, looking both pissed and worried at the man leaning against The Family Bean’s pristine counter.

Peter ignored him. “Oh, lay off, Derek. I want a drink, and this twink is going to make me one.”

Derek turned to Stiles. “Peter, do not call—” He paused, dark eyes widening.

Stiles felt his heart jerk in his chest and his left shoulder burn. He felt like he had been hit in the head, so did Derek going by his gaping.

Peter suddenly tilted sideways, interrupting their stare down. Neither Stiles nor Derek were able to catch the man before he ended up sprawled across the counter. The sight of him had Stiles dredging up some semblance of control. He sighed.

“You are very rude, and also very drunk, but because I feel sorry for you, Mr. Hale, I’ll make you a free drink.”

Derek let out a gurgle and then a cough, obviously holding back laughter. Peter propped himself up on wobbly elbows.

“You feel sorry for me? Don’t you know who I am, kid?”

Stiles was both annoyed by Peter and buoyed by Derek’s reaction. It was probably what sharpened his tongue.

“You’re Talia Hale’s younger brother, but between the supposed—ahh, what was it—Big Bad Wolf of Media and this so-called twink, I’m not the one nursing a hangover at this time of the afternoon.”

Stiles shook his head and walked off, ignoring Peter’s angry, garbled words and the sudden chuckle from Derek. The latter made Stiles’ shoulder ache.

Stiles ignored that and prepared a quick takeout bag. He could hear Peter and Derek arguing out on the main area. It was the work of minutes to prepare a quick smoothie and throw in some crackers and fruits. He walked back out and handed the bag to Derek, but then quickly tucked his hands to himself. The other man’s piercing stare was making him sweat.

Peter grabbed his drink and took a gulp of the smoothie, before asking, “What’s your name, kid?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Not even a thank you. How rude.

“Not a kid, and there’s no need to know my name since you’re just going to forget it.”

Peter smirked lasciviously. “Oh, that mouth on you.”

“I’m also not into geriatrics,” Stiles was quick to bite back.

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Geria—”

Derek suddenly burst into laughter and the sound of it seemed to fill Stiles’ heart and mind, making his face flush and his body warm. Derek smiled at him and Stiles felt warmth bloom in his chest.

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to will the blush away. He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m happy to help. I’ll tell Kira you guys dropped by. See you around.” He glanced at Peter. “Not you. Drop dead.” He stepped back.

“Wait!” Derek lurched forward, startling Stiles and also Peter, who, true to Stiles’ words, slid off the counter to the floor. They ignored him.

Derek leaned forward over the counter. “I’m sorry if I’m forward, but are you—”

Stiles shook his head vigorously. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

He ducked back into the kitchen, ignoring Derek’s calls and Peter’s drunken warbling. He leaned against the door and slid down until he could curl up into a ball. He placed a hand over his burning shoulder.

Sometimes people just knew.

Stiles was tempted to stay away from The Family Bean after that. He really wanted to. But it was hard to stay away.

Even harder to stay away from a ping.

Stiles wasn’t stupid enough to let that slip away.

Still, it was hard to face up to it and admit that he had a soulmate.

So for the next two weeks, Stiles stayed away from the front of house, always hiding in the safety of the kitchen. He kept on making purple tickets whenever they came, but he avoided coming out for any reason, especially after Derek started coming by nearly every day. Sometimes he even brought his work over just so that he could stay as long as possible.

It confused Kira and Erica, but they assumed Derek just liked the food. The other Hales also started coming by and many times, Stiles could hear them asking Derek why he was hanging around The Family Bean instead of working in his office. Always, Derek kept mum.

Because as it turned out, Derek hadn’t told anyone about the ping.

In fact, Stiles had a feeling that the only person in the Hale family who knew was Nathan. Maybe because he had already been suspicious of it. Out of all the Hales, he was the only one who didn’t ask Derek about why he kept hanging around the café.

The other one who knew was Boyd.

Derek had been called to a meeting one day, so Stiles had felt it safe to come out and work at one of the booths. He had already fallen so far behind on his writing commitments. After a few minutes, Boyd had dropped by and had joined him. Stiles knew he was typing gibberish on his laptop, but he kept on as an excuse not to look at Boyd, who was looking at him intently.

Finally, he spoke, “Looking back, I guess it wasn’t just your banana bread that won me over.”

Stiles jerked, sending a series of characters across the screen.

Boyd kept on. “I always had a good feeling about you from Erica’s stories, but when we met, that was definitely a ping.”

Stiles bit his lip. “Does Erica know?”

Boyd shook his head. “I love her, but Erica would have thrown a party if she knew.”

Stiles sighed, both in relief and in trepidation for the moment Erica find out.

Boyd studied him. “Derek’s a good guy, you know.”

“I know I got that impression from all the stories you and Erica had of him,” Stiles said. “I always thought it was surprising considering he could afford not to be a nice guy.”

Boyd studied him, making Stiles shift in his seat. “Is that the reason you won’t meet with him? Or do a Touch Test? Because he’s a Hale?”

Stiles almost protested, but he deflated. “…I don’t know.”

Boyd hummed under his breath. “Well, you’ve always played your cards close to the chest when it comes to soulmates, but I know you’ll figure it out.” He stood up. “But you better make it soon. Erica and the rest of the Hales are bound to figure it out.”

Stiles groaned and sank down on his seat.

“Noted.”

The day after that, a still-conflicted Stiles was once again at The Family Bean. Kira had gone up to the Wolf’s Den to deliver the latest purple ticket, so he had to stay and man the counter.

The door let out a little tinkle, and Stiles froze the moment he saw the woman entering the café.

He’d know Talia Hale anywhere.

Stiles almost panicked, but then he remembered that she didn’t know who he was. He took a deep breath.

“Um, good afternoon, Mrs. Hale. What can I get you?”

The woman smiled, quite warm and friendly despite her fierce reputation. “Just some tea, please. And are there any new desserts?”

It had been a moment of weakness, but Stiles had actually brought over some peanut butter stuffed cookies and added it to the purple ticket in the hopes that a certain Hale would like them. He still had a few cookies left, but he wasn’t sure if he should offer them to her.

“I smell cookies,” Talia said pointedly. “I’ll have some of those.”

Stiles gulped. “Ah, we have some peanut butter stuffed cookies. Let me get those for you.”

He swallowed his nerves and served the woman, who took a sip of tea and a bite of the cookie right there on the counter.

She smiled, studying the cookies. “Very tasty.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Stiles smiled politely. He turned away to leave and maybe gather his strength in the privacy of the kitchen.

“When we started hearing about The Food Guy, I admit I was quite intrigued. It’s very rare for someone to grab the attention of my entire family.”

Stiles paused and turned to her.

He should have known.

Stiles nodded stiffly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Talia smiled, sharp and knowing. “And you, Food Guy.”

“Any reason for the visit?” Stiles asked, shifting on his feet.

“I wanted to meet you,” Talia said, taking another bite of her cookie.

Stiles frowned. “That’s all?”

“Were you expecting anything else?”

“Uh, well, I…”

Talia shrugged and sipped his tea. “I don’t blame you for any misgivings you might have should you prove to be soulmates with my son. I’m well aware of the reputation of my family. My late father, Everett, embodied the might of the Hale name better than anyone. You should have seen him back in the days.”

Stiles held up his hands. He couldn’t help the feeling that he had to explain.

“It’s not that there’s a problem with Derek or your family. Being a Hale isn’t the problem… not entirely…” he hesitated, but then plunged on, urged by the ping he could feel inside him and the desire to make someone understand. “My mom passed away when I was seven. She was soulmates with my father. He was—I was—we were never the same after.”

A heavy silence fell, and Stiles was both nervous and intrigued. Talia’s face changed. Something in her eyes darkened and she pursed her lips.

“Forgive my sudden melancholy, but I was just reminded of something.” She sipped her tea. “I was reminded of my youth. My father, Peter, and I had never been the same after mother walked away.”

“Walked away?” Stiles was taken aback. It was rare to hear any mention of Talia’s mother, but everyone had chalked it up to grief at her passing. “But you all said she died—”

Talia interrupted him delicately. “People think of Marks as the be all and end all where the only answer is yes. But even soulmates are a choice…”

“Desmond grew up without a penny to his name, so he rejected me as he could only see himself as an embarrassment to the Hale family. My opinionated father had, unfortunately, been a contributing factor to that line of thinking. I grew up with a rather jaded view of Marks and pings, and I had seen his rejection as a challenge and not a privilege. Desmond and I, our story had been tempestuous, quite unlike the romanticizing people had done.”

She finished the last of her tea. “If I may be allowed to request one thing, all I ask is that you make a choice so that Derek can do the same. No one in this family will certainly blame you for it.”

Talia pushed her empty cup and plate towards Stiles, and smiled. “Have a good day, Food Guy.”

Stiles watched Talia walk away.

He had some thinking to do.

Stiles took a deep breath and tried not to crush the boxes in his hands. He was nervous and his left shoulder was throbbing.

“Ready?” Kira asked him. She was carrying the other delivery boxes.

“As I’ll ever be,” Stiles replied.

Kira smiled, both encouraging and proud, and nodded to the guard on duty. The man held open the double doors for them, and Stiles was instantly met with a wall of sound.

“Purple ticket delivery,” Kira called out, leading Stiles inside.

The office was spacious, as it should be if it was going to accommodate all of the Hales, and all of them were there. There was a long table at one end where Talia, Matthew, and Boyd were talking and laughing. Desmond was on one couch, talking to Piero and Erica. Laura and Cora were seated on armchairs and were arguing loudly about something. Peter was egging them on. CC and Spencer, were seated in front of a television at a kids’ play area set up in the corner. Cameron was with them, all of them singing along to whatever cartoon was playing. Derek, Valerie, and Nathan were huddled around a table, looking at blueprints.

“Oh, yes! The food’s here!” Cameron cheered, which sent the children shouting as well.

Kira navigated the area like a champ, while Stiles slowly shuffled after. “You guys ordered a lot. I had to ask for help. This is Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t miss the way Derek’s head suddenly jolted in his direction, nor Talia’s proud smile, nor Erica’s sudden screech of “Stiles!” which had everyone else turning their way. Stiles winced. He was going to get his ass kicked later for not telling Erica about this.

“Well, well…” Peter grinned. “Hello there, twink.”

Stiles shuddered. “Still not into creepy old geezers.”

“Oh, wait, wait! Is he the guy who called you a geriatric?” Laura asked, before shrieking in laughter.

“And the one who said Peter should drop dead,” Cora added, cackling.

Laughter rang around over Peter’s protests, and it made Stiles’ heart stutter. He felt warm all over, like the pings going off in his head were doubly delighted at the Hales. He glanced at Derek, who was smiling warmly.

Stiles winced when he caught Erica’s gaze though. She looked between him and Derek and her eyes widened. But Boyd was suddenly there, hand over her mouth and whispering to her.

Stiles helped Kira take out all of the food and the ravenous Hales were quickly upon them.

“Food Guy’s stuff tastes awesome,” Nathan said, licking his cupcake’s icing. He waggled knowing eyebrows at Stiles, who bit back a grin. Cheeky kid.

“Please pass our compliments to the chef, Kira,” Desmond said, reaching for his drink.

Kira giggled. “You can thank him yourself.” She waved at Stiles with a flourish.

Stiles felt a little like a deer in headlights when all their gazes alighted on him.

“You’re Food Guy?” and other iterations of the exclamation rang around the room.

Stiles flushed. “I’m glad to hear you all like what I’ve been making.”

“Oh, wow! How wonderful!” Piero piped up. “I haven’t felt a ping in such a long time. How nostalgic, don’t you think, dear?” He turned to Valerie.

“That’s a ping?” Matthew asked, confused, before his face cleared and he rubbed his chest. “Oh, hell, this is a ping.”

“Is that the tingly feeling here, Uncle Mattie?” Spencer asked, pointing at his tummy.

Erica finally managed to get out from under Boyd. “Stiles, did you ping with Derek? Is that why you’ve both been hanging around The Family Bean? You’ve both been pining over each other!”

Stiles groaned, while gasps and shouts suddenly rang around the room.

Kira sighed. “Way to ruin it, Erica.”

“You mean I was pinged through a tomato pie?” Cameron was asking, wide-eyed.

Cora started laughing. “Oh my god! Uncle Peter flirted with Derek’s soulmate!”

“That’s Uncle Derek’s soulmate?” CC asked.

“Yes, he is.” Nathan looked like he was immensely enjoying all this, and Stiles was starting to realize that he was a little shit.

Derek stepped towards Stiles. His face was a little red, but he was smiling and Stiles thought he was the handsomest man he had ever seen.

“My family’s a mess. Please ignore them,” Derek said, ignoring the protests from his siblings.

Stiles chuckled. “At least they keep things interesting. It’s just me, my Dad, and her.” He jerked a thumb at Erica.

“Oh, fu—dge you!” Erica said, glancing at the kids. She turned to Boyd. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “I was giving him space to process things.”

Stiles ignored them and turned to Derek. He only had one chance to do this.

“Ah, sorry, it took a while. I was figuring stuff out, but I thought we should get to know one another first.”

“Of course,” Derek said immediately. He reached out a hand. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Stiles.”

Stiles glanced at Talia, who was whispering to her husband. She winked at Stiles.

“Soulmates are a choice.”

Stiles smiled at Derek. He could feel his Mark tingling in anticipation.

“Me too, Derek.”

He reached out and took his hand.

#kevaaronday #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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our-kendrick · 4 years

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Anna Kendrick on life, love, sex toys and COVID-19

©: Janet R. Nepales

Read here, or below.

Talk about the relationships of mothers and daughters which is sometimes more difficult than the relationship between daughters and fathers.

The relationship between Darby and her mother, we don't know a lot about it until a little later in the show. And I love it so much. It has such an impact on who Darby is, and you really see that once you get to know her mother. And we get to know her mother even more as the show goes on.

There's an episode where we really get into Darby's relationship with her mother. And I was so surprised and happy. You know, happy might be the wrong word, but I was so amazed at how many women on the set, on the crew came up to me and they were like, this is my mother, this is my relationship with my mother.

Darby has a difficult relationship with her mother so it made me sad, but I definitely felt that made me really proud of the show that we were making, and that it resonated with so many people. And it also made me call my mother and say how grateful I am for what a wonderful mom she is.

There's a scene where Darby breaks down crying, and her mother doesn't know how to comfort her. And this happened a lot throughout the show; that it brought up a lot of personal stuff for me, but not necessarily to do with the content of the show.

That was one example where I have a close relationship with my mother and she's so empathetic but just having the experience of breaking down crying and having somebody just go like, what is your problem? That's something that reminded me of relationships that I was in when I was much younger. And just how painful that experience is and how grateful I am that there are things that I don't accept any more from people.

I expect empathy from people if we're going to have a relationship. It made me grateful that my mother modeled that empathy for me. Because if you don't have an empathetic home life, it's hard for you to know that you deserve empathy. The relationship between mothers and daughters is so complicated and so fraught sometimes. This show made me grateful for the way that my mother really modeled what empathy was for me.

What are the red flags for a woman on deciding relationships?

I remember somebody telling me when I was maybe, 14 or 15, I remember them saying it was a really specific example. And yet I have thought about it in almost any relationship I've ever like entered into or if I'm on a first date or something. Somebody told me when I was 14, if you're ever in a car with a guy, and he's driving, and as a joke, he lets go the wheel and makes you grab the wheel, because he's goofing around or something like that is not a guy that you want to be with. He might think, hey, I'm just joking. Why are you being so sensitive? We're just having fun. I wouldn't have let the car crash. But really, he's testing your boundaries. He's testing like what you're gonna put up with. And he's trying to make you uncomfortable. And it was such a weird, specific example. But I feel like I've had moments in my life where I'm like, oh, this is the guy letting go of the wheel to see what I'll do.

This is silly, but I dated a guy when I was 19, who tickled me all the time. And I don't like being tickled. I feel very claustrophobic, I panic and I don't like it. And I kept saying, this is a problem for me. Please don't do it. And he kept doing it and I broke up with him. And he thought I was being crazy because I broke up with him for tickling me.

I was like no, I broke up with you because you didn't respect me. I asked you for something and you did it to make me uncomfortable. I feel little things like that are so specific and you never know the exact situation it's going to be, but I'm really glad that somebody told me that when I was younger because it has come up a lot for me over the years.

Your show is titled “Love Life.” So let’s talk about your love life. Your first crush, best relationship you’ve had, worst breakup?

My first crush was in elementary school, and his name was Robbie. And I told him that I had a crush on him. And he told me that I was too short. So that was very heartbreaking for me. And now I really like being short. I actually love being a petite woman, that's fine with me.

My worst break-up was something that we tried to put in the show in a very, wait, that was like, a lot of stuff in the show is stuff that I mined from my own life, but it's all changed just enough so that I don't get angry phone calls from ex-boyfriends.

So, the worst breakup was something that I really wanted to put in the show. And I felt it was important to talk about the fact that I feel like most women don't make it out of their 20's without dating a guy who's a little scary. And you don't have to be in physical danger to be able to ask your friends for help. I was young and this was a short relationship, but he started to feel scary to me. And I felt like I was being dramatic. I felt like if I told my friends about it, they would say that I was overreacting. And it wasn't until later that I realized that my friends would have been happy to help me. And, luckily, that was a relationship that I got out of after only five or six months.

But in the show, for Darby, that relationship is longer. And so it was important to me to show that things can get uncomfortable and scary in relationships, and threatening. But sometimes when the good times are so good, it's really hard to leave. So yeah, a lot of the best and worst stuff of my relationship history is sort of in the show. Hopefully in a way where I have plausible deniability.

I watched your other TV show “Dummy.” Have you found a new appreciation for sex toys after having done that?

Well, I think during “Dummy,” which is about a sex doll for those who don't know, it did give me a new appreciation for people who are owners of sex dolls. Because it turns out that a sex doll is really heavy-lifting, way heavier than you think it's going to be. So, I feel like there's a level of commitment there to the people who enjoy sex dolls. No judgement here.

So, I tip my cap to those people. And actually, the director of “Dummy,” who created all the episodes of “Dummy,” her names is Tricia Brock, She also directed the Danny Coupons episode on “Love Life.” The one episode that opens with Darby using a sex toy. So, I was like, Tricia, you just like to have me doing something gross every time we work together.

You have lots of intimate scenes with all your love interests in the show. So talk about your views on doing nudity or intimate scenes.

It's funny that you say that because when we started doing the show, it dawned on me that in every single episode, I was gonna be doing like a kissing scene or a sex scene with someone brand new. Like each episode is a different person. So, that was nerve-wracking, but my personal feelings on nudity have stayed the same, which is that I'm not really interested in nudity for me. But I've never had a problem with simulated sex scenes. To me, that feels like that's about the character whereas I only get one body so nudity just isn't for me.

I was just so totally grateful each new episode that each cast member that we had and we had so many talented guys come on the show to say nothing of the women on the show, who like blow me away so talented. But I was very grateful that every person that Darby dates on the show is like such a class act, such a good actor, such a professional. Because it was definitely weird to know we're going to meet, and then immediately start filming. And within a week, we are going to be in bed pretending to have sex. So I was just very grateful that everybody was the coolest.

Tell us where you are right now and what are you doing for your mental and physical health during this time.

I'm in my house in LA. I'm by myself. I think it comes in waves. I could say I've been exercising every day and cooking and doing everything. I don't know what the experience has been for you, but there's definitely been days where I feel really helpless. I think that's probably something we're all dealing with. Just that feeling that something really terrible is happening and I can't help. I can't do anything and it makes you feel really powerless. You're trapped in your house and I definitely have gone through different cycles of letting that get me down and then just trying to let it happen rather than say a lot of other people have it worse than you, stop feeling sorry for yourself. So, just letting the bad feelings exist and knowing that they'll pass and that we will all get through this together.

I do feel grateful for the sense of community that exists even though we can't be together. Getting on Zoom chats, or Skype, or whatever the platform is and talking to my family, talking to my friends. Twice a week I do family movie nights. So, my parents are in Maine and my brothers in New York, and we pick a movie and we all press play at the same time. We watched that Robert Redford movie “The Natural” and “Princess Bride” and movies like that. We're all texting each other during the movie, which normally would be a no, but under the circumstances is really sweet. So, we're finding creative ways to stay connected.

Love Life’s first three episodes will debut May 27 on HBO Max, and the following seven will stream the Thursdays following.

#Anna Kendrick #Love Life #Projects #HBO Max #Interview #2020

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pynkhues · 4 years

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The Center & Circumference Fic Masterpost

Okay, SO! I did a survey, and it turned out a lot of you wanted a masterpost for C&C which I was pretty excited by! It’s given me the opportunity to really revisit the series as I’ve gone to slot the instalments into order, and actually do some important admin that I’ve been wanting to do anyway, like correct Ben’s name.

The masterpost of original characters in the ‘verse is still coming, but I figured I’d get this big gal up since we’re back in hiatus land and I’ve already had a flood of C&C prompts again, haha (plus still a ton I’m trying to get to from the last hiatus).

For people who aren’t familiar with it, The Center & Circumference is a domestic Beth x Rio fic series. It’s a canon divergence from 2.11 and is basically about Beth and Rio learning how to blend a household, navigate crime while having a million (well, five) kids between them. It’s already close to 200k in total (which - - what???) but you can read it in handy, mostly self-contained instalments!

To make it easier, I’ve included relationships, the characters that feature, and the age of the kids during each part below. I’ve also bolded the central relationships + characters of each part, to hopefully make it easier to sift through if you’re looking for something in particular. I’ll also be updating this post as I update the series, so hopefully that’s a help too!

Also a quick note - I subscribe to the fanon that Demon + Mick are the same person, haha, so please take that into account.

Anyway! It’s below the cut for your timelines.

1. I Could Be Your Welcome (50k, explicit).

(Beth x Rio. Annie + Beth + Ruby. Beth + Kenny. Beth + Dean. Beth + Marcus. Rio + Kenny. Rio + Jane.

Beth Boland, Rio, Dean Boland, Annie Marks, Ruby Hill, Lisa [OC], Kenny Boland [11], Danny Boland [8], Emma Boland [7], Marcus [6], Jane Boland [6], Demon, Cal [OC], Stan Hill, Sara Hill, Ben Marks [14]

Beth and Rio buy a house together. Shenanigans and hopelessness ensue.

2. See You in the Light (ongoing, explicit).

(Beth x Rio. Rio + Carmen [OC]. Rio + Aida [OC]. Rio + Laura [OC]. Rio + Annie.

Rio, Carmen [OC], Aida [OC], Matt [OC], Rio’s mother [OC], Raf [10] [OC], David [7] [OC], Annie Marks, Beth Boland, Gretchen Zorada, Laura).

Direct continuation on from I Could Be Your Welcome. Beth and Rio pick a school, Beth meets the family, the kids settle into the new house, and they throw a housewarming (it’s a disaster).

3. Cold Out There (but it’s warm in bed) (1k, teen+)

(Beth x Rio.

Beth Boland, Rio)

Beth and Rio neck in bed. That’s it. That’s the plot.

4. Here’s to You (3k, teen+)

(Beth x Rio.

Beth Boland, Rio, Asmita and Lauren (PTA moms from 2.10 and 2.13), Annie Marks, Jane Boland [6], Marcus [6])

After Beth’s kids finish up the school year at their old elementary, ready to transition to Glenvale, Beth’s old PTA group throws her a leaving party.

5. Tiny Dancer (1k, general)

(Rio + Emma. Jane + Marcus. Beth x Rio.

Rio, Emma Boland [7], Kenny Boland [12], Jane Boland [6], Marcus [6])

Jane and Marcus break one of Emma’s favourite things, and Rio can’t fix it, but maybe he fixes something else in the process.

6. Darkness on the Edge of Town (5k, teen+)

(Beth x Rio. Rio + Danny. Rio + Danny + Kenny + Marcus. Beth + Emma + Jane. Beth + Annie.

Beth Boland, Kenny Boland [12], Danny Boland [8], Rio, Annie Marks, Ben Marks [15], Marcus [6], Jane Boland [6], Emma Boland [7], Cal [OC]. Mentions of Carmen [OC], Aida [OC] and Demon.)

Beth’s plagued with memories when they get locked in the house during a blackout.

7. Two Hands (6k, teen+)

(Rio + Jane. Rio + Demon. Beth x Rio.

Rio, Demon / Mick, Vinny [OC], Marta [OC], Diego [OC], Beth Boland, Marcus [6], Jane Boland [6]. Mentions of Carmen [OC] and Aida [OC].)

After handling a rotten egg, Rio gets home exhausted to a Jane who won’t go to sleep.

8. Imagine Me and You (6k, explicit)

(Beth x Rio. Ruby x Stan. Beth + Stan. Annie + Beth + Ruby.

Beth Boland, Rio, Stan Hill, Ruby Hill, Sara Hill [15], Harry Hill [6], Jane Boland [6], Marcus [7], Kenny Boland [12], Annie Marks)

Beth tries to take Rio on a date.

9. Give You All I’ve Got to Give (8k, teen+)

(Beth x Rio. Rio + Marcus. Jane + Marcus. Rio + Emma. Beth + Danny.

Beth Boland, Emma Boland [8], Jane Boland [6], Rio, Marcus [6], Danny Boland [8], Kenny Boland [12], mentions of: Sara Hill [14], Harry Hill [7] and Ben Marks [15], mentions of Carmen, Raf and David)

Beth and Rio have different ideas on how to shop for the start of the new school year.

10. Heartwood (3k, teen+)

(Beth + Jane. Jane + Marcus. Beth x Rio. Rio + Jane. Rio + Marcus. Beth + Marcus.

Beth Boland, Jane Boland [6], Marcus [7], Rio, Mr. Nichols [OC]. Mentions of Annie and Ben Marks [14], Danny [8] and Emma Boland [7]).

Jane and Marcus work on their family trees and try to work out what their mom and dad are to the other.

11. Graveyard Smash (4k, explicit)

(Beth x Rio. Beth + Annie.

Beth Boland, Annie Marks, Rio, Ben Marks [15], Kenny Boland [12], Danny Boland [8], Emma Boland [7], Marcus [6], Jane Boland [6])

Beth makes Halloween costumes, Annie takes the kids trick or treating, and Beth and Rio get…interrupted.

12. Break this Spell (2k, teen+)

(Beth x Rio

Beth Boland, Rio, mentions of Dean Boland, Laura and Marcus, Ruby Hill and Annie Marks)

Beth and Rio try to light a fire. Brief talk of work, but otherwise shameless fluff.

13. Friar’s Lantern (13k, explicit)

(Beth x Rio. Beth + Laura. Beth + Marcus. Beth + Annie. Annie + Marcus.

Beth Boland, Nora [OC], Gwen [OC], Rio, Marcus [7], Laura [OC], Annie Marks, mentions of Aida [OC], Carmen [OC], Rio’s mother [OC], Cygnus [OC])

Rio asks Beth to take Marcus unexpectedly, right before he disappears. Beth takes care of Marcus, while grappling with her relationship with Rio in the process.

14. Some Assembly Required (1k, general)

(Beth x Rio.

Beth Boland, Rio, mentions of Dean, Kenny [12] and Danny Boland [8])

Beth and Rio try to make Danny a desk.

15. Louder Now, Help Me Out (3k, teen+)

(Annie + Beth + Ruby. Beth x Rio. Beth + the kids. Rio + the kids.

Beth Boland, Annie Marks, Ruby Hill, Marcus, Jane Boland, Emma Boland, Rio)

Marcus, Jane and Emma have an important question for Beth. Chaos ensues.

16. Keep My Glass Full (7k, explicit)

(Beth x Rio. Beth + Gretchen. Rio + Gretchen.

Beth Boland, Rio, Gretchen Zorada, Caroline [OC])

Gretchen and her wife host a fancy party at the house Rio’s legal fees bought them, and Beth and Rio take the opportunity to dress up and mess around

17. Call Me Maybe (1k, teen+)

(Beth x Rio. Jane + Marcus.

Beth Boland, Rio, Mr. Nichols [OC], Jane Boland [6], Marcus [7])

Jane and Marcus’ teacher may or may not have a crush.

18. Fever Dreams (1k, general)

(Beth + Annie. Beth x Rio. Rio + the kids

Beth Boland, Annie Marks, Rio, Danny Boland [9], Emma Boland [8], Marcus [7], Jane Boland [7]. Mentions of: Dean + Kenny Boland [13].)

Dean ruins everyone’s day, Rio tries to salvage it, only to get everyone sick in the process.

19. Sugar (3k, general)

(Beth x Rio.

Rio, Beth Boland, PTA mom’s, Mr. Hollander [OC]. Mentions of Carmen)

Beth has an altercation with another mother at the school.

20. Petite ouverture (4k, general)

(Rio + Emma. Beth x Rio.

Rio, Beth Boland, Emma Boland [8], Jane Boland [7], Marcus [7], Danny Boland [9], Kenny Boland [13]. Mentions of Rio’s family)

Everything goes pear-shaped at Emma and Jane’s ballet recital.

21. Animalia (23k, teen+)

(Rio + Danny. Beth x Rio. Rio + Carmen [OC].

Rio, Beth Boland, Danny Boland [9/10], Kenny Boland [13], Emma Boland [8], Marcus [7], Jane Boland [7], Carmen [OC], Demon / Mick, Kane [OC]. Mentions of Aida [OC], Cygnus [OC])

Danny breaks his arm and Rio fucks up in more ways than one.

22. Afterglow (1k, explicit)

(Beth x Rio.

Beth Boland, Rio.)

A job goes well, and Beth and Rio are very, very hungover.

23. Party Popper (14k)

(Beth x Rio. Beth + Kenny. Beth + Annie. Beth + Dean. Ruby x Stan. Annie + Nancy.

Beth Boland, Rio, Ruby Hill, Stan Hill, Annie Marks, Nancy, Carmen [OC], Aida [OC], Ben Marks [17], Sara Hill [17], Kenny Boland [15], Raf [14] [OC], Danny [12], David [11] [OC], Emma Boland [11], Marcus [10] Harry Hill [10], Jane [9], Dakota [4]

Kenny’s fifteenth birthday party brings out everyone’s best and worst selves

24. Stick to the Rivers (4k, explicit)

(Beth + Kenny. Beth x Rio. Beth + Dean. Rio + the kids.

Beth Boland, Kenny Boland [15], Rio. Mentions of: Annie Marks, Ruby Hill, Dean Boland, Ben Marks, Danny Boland [12], Emma Boland [11], Jane Boland [9]).

Dean messes up with the kids, Beth and Kenny have a conversation, and Beth and Rio take a bath.

25. Stupid Cupid (23k, explicit)

(Beth x Rio. Beth + Emma. Rio + Emma. Beth + Annie.

Beth Boland, Rio, Emma Boland [11], Annie Marks, Kenny Boland [15], Danny Boland [12], Marcus [10], Jane Boland [10]).

It’s Valentine’s day! Emma has a crush, Beth and Rio chaperone a dance, make a bet, and experiment with role play.

(Forever thank yous to @foxmagpie for the banners!)

#beth x rio #my fic #the center and circumference #this took foreeevvvvver haha #and it was so good to do!#but i'm also going to be a little sad if it just like #falls into the abyss of tumblr haha #i can't lie!#sorry guys!#it did make me realise how much i love this universe though #i've missed writing in it!#which is actually a really nice feeling to have #anyway #most importantly #i really do hope this is helpful for some people #and that you like it!#let me know if you have any questions :-)

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ma-gic-gay · 3 years

Note

What the fuck is this oxygen thing doing in his nose, why is there someone praying at his bedside and who the hell can dim the lights?

"Oh thank god you're awake," the blonde by his bedside (presumably the one praying) smiles. "Are you comfortable?"

He searches his brain before remembering why he's in here: He got shot and fell to the ground (hence the headache). It was coming out of court and he was convinced they were going to shoot at her. "Are you?" He asks in return, noting that she's clearly stretching her back. The chairs aren't comfortable, though she has gotten used to sleeping in them over the years.

A single tear runs down her stained face (probably makeup, he figures. That's messy stuff) as she smiles. "I've dealt with worse," she answers calmly. When he starts pulling out the oxygen thing, she chuckles to herself. "Epiphany is gonna be mad you did that."

"Well I can breathe fine without it," he argues, mildly wincing with the pain of the bullet wound. "This thing's just annoying me."

"You were shot in the chest and narrowly escaped having a serious head trauma, Jason, that's not fine. I had to sign off on four different surgeries for you! One to remove the bullet, one when something went wrong after that with the bullet, an exploratory brain surgery, and then, just for fun, they had me sign off on an exploratory heart surgery to make sure you hadn't had more severe bleeding than they thought," Carly starts in on him, clearly worked up.

"How long was I out?"

"Three days. You could've died in this hospital and guess who would've been to blame? Me. Sam reminded me of that more times than I'd like to think about," she continues her rant. "No taking stupid risks with your life! If you see a gun pointed at you you run the other direction, you don't save me first! I need you alive so promise me you're not going to be a hero and save everyone but yourself."

"The guns were pointed at you, Carly," he argues, knowing it's in vein by the look on her face that says he's not getting out of this. "I wasn't taking a risk with my life, I was saving you."

"And you could've died doing it!"

"You could've died too, you know. They could've shot you or a bullet could've ricocheted. Besides, I'm fine," Jason shrugs off the surgery. "In a little bit of chest pain and with a minor headache but fine all things considered."

She glares at him, clearly still upset. Grabbing his hand, she exclaims, "I thought you were going to die! Sam was blaming me for it left and right. Jake, Danny and Scout thought their dad wouldn't wake up. Michael, Joss, and Donna were worried to all hell. Which reminds me, I was instructed by Donna to give you this card." After a brief moment of fumbling around in her purse, she found the piece of paper she was looking for and hands it to him.

The card was clearly written by Avery, considering that the handwriting is much better than Donna's. It reads, "Get Better Quick!" And has a stick figure that's supposed to be him with a bunch of red coming from his shirt. Blood, he figures. On the inside, it's the stick figure napping, no more red stain. All in all, it's a cute card.

"Hey Carly, is-" Sam starts, entering the room angrily. "Jason! You're up!"

"I'm going to go call my kids," Carly announces, leaving the room. "I'll be back in a few minutes, probably armed with at least one of them."

Getting a quiet chuckle out of Jason, she leaves the room with a pep on her step. He must've scared them pretty bad if she's that happy about his being awake and as functioning a human as someone in a hospital bed can be.

Sam, beaming, takes Carly's place and says, "Thank god. You were worrying us for a while there."

"I'm fine," he shrugs.

"No you're not. You almost died protecting Carly, again. This is becoming a habit of yours, Jason," she sighs. That's a lie; she knows it too. "You being her hero is going to cost you your life one of these days and I don't want that. None of us do."

Now she's just flat out pissing him off. Only took about a minute to do that, which is kind of impressive. "What do you want me to do, let her get shot?"

She takes a minute to think about her answer. What the hell? There's a right answer and there's a wrong answer here.

"I don't want you to die because of her. That's what I think. If that's the only way for it to happen, then yes, I guess she's going to get shot. It wouldn't kill you to let her have a little bit of the consequences for her actions for once, you know," Sam says simply. "Doing something dumb enough to get shot at might be a sign she has to learn her lesson."

"The gun was aimed at her. It was a hired gun from Cyrus. As far as I knew, his orders were to take her out." When Sam stops reacting, he asks, "What did Cyrus do?"

"You got shot saving her," Sam continues. "She's never going to learn to depend on you less if you keep saving her everytime you think she's in trouble, Jason. She'll always be this dependent, if not more, on you."

Oh good god. This conversation is going in circles and it's giving him a headache. "It's not your business anymore whether she's dependent on me or not," he says, voice as even as possible. She seems to be forgetting they're not together, or even friends anymore. They coparent their kids, that's it.

There's a hurt look on Sam's face, he can see as she simply responds, "You're right. But that doesn't mean that it's a good thing you could die protecting her from her own messes."

"I never said it was a good or bad thing. I'm alive."

"I've got to go get the kids," she excuses herself before leaving the room.

Well now he kinda feels like shit. He didn't mean to send her away or hurt her feelings, but it's clear he did just that. To be fair, she might've forgotten about the kids for a bit and remembered she had to pick them up somewhere, but he doubts it. Not wholehearted doubt, but enough.

"Stop frowning. It causes wrinkles," Carly jokes as she enters the room again. "Sam just went to go get Danny and Scout from the Quartermaine's. My kids are over the moon you're doing better. Donna would like to run in here right now, but I had to remind her it's a hospital and that's disgusting."

"The hospital's fairly clean," he smiles before noticing that her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "What happened?"

"Cyrus is out on bail. He's got full reign of the hospital."

"How?"

"I guess his lawyer's actually good and managed to get him bail. Sympathetic judge," the blonde says, shrugging. "He's stayed away from me, thank god. Not for me, for him. I'm half sure if I saw him I'd start attacking him."

"What about the trial?"

"It's over. Cyrus changed his plea. His sentencing isn't for a few weeks, though, so his lawyer petitioned for bail and got it," she smiles brightly as she says the first part, tone turning for the later half. "And if you're not admitted out of here by then, rest assured, I'll break you out to go."

He chuckles, noticing her eyes are glossy. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," Carly laughs. "It's just happening. Tears have decided to fall from my eyeballs, which doesn't even make sense because I'm happy right now. You're alive and as well as can be considering your four surgeries, everyone's fine, I don't get it." She wipes her tears away with a chuckle. "If you'd died because of me-"

"I didn't. I'm alive. Stop worrying I'm going to have a heart attack or something and die. I made it, you made it, your family is fine, my family is fine. No point in dwelling on the past," Jason interrupts her. "See? I'll be fine in a few days."

"You're in here because of me," she argues weakly, not meeting his eyes.

"Look at me, Carly," he instructs calmly and she does just that. "This isn't your fault. It's not mine or anyone but Cyrus's. And the guys that shot me. Alright? You did nothing wrong."

"I could've-"

"Could've what? Been psychic? Predicted the future? That's not real and we both know it. What is real is that I am alive. Everyone we care about it alive. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon. Everything is fine and you're not responsible for not having psychic abilities," Jason reminds her, watching her try to find a hint of a lie within the words or a way she can continue to blame herself. "Stop blaming yourself."

"Fine," she caves, "if you promise to not forget to save yourself when bullets start flying around me, I'll stop blaming myself."

"Deal."

"I'm waiting for the promise."

"I promise to remember to save myself and you."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No," he says, "it really wasn't."

"You can thank me at any time for introducing you to the lovely world of negotiation."

"I've been in a business involving negotiation since the 1990s."

"Coffee is a very competitive business."

"Very."

When she stops bantering with him and kisses him, he knows something in his life has changed.

To be continued after I pass out :) I live in hell

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frankiefellinlove · 4 years

Text

These were the times...

On April 10 2014 the legendary E Street Band

Was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame.

Bruce Springsteen made the Induction Speech.

In the beginning, there was Mad Dog Vincent Lopez, standing in front of me, fresh out of jail, his head shaved, in the Mermaid Room of the Upstage Club in Asbury Park. He told me that he had a money-making outfit called Speed Limit 25, they were looking for a guitarist, and was I interested? I was broke, so I was. So the genesis point of the E Street Band was actually a group that Vini Lopez asked me to join to make a few extra dollars on the weekend.

Shortly thereafter, I met Dan Federici. He was draped in a three quarter-length leather, had his red hair slicked back. His wife Flo, she was decked out in a blonde bouffant wig, and they were straight out of Flemington, New Jersey. [Cheers] Whoa! Flemington!

Vini, Danny, myself, along with bass player Vinnie Roslin, were shortly woodshedding out of a cottage on the main street of a lobster-fishing town, Highlands, New Jersey. I first saw Garry Tallent along with Southside Johnny when they dragged two chairs onto an empty dance floor as I plugged my guitar into the Upstage wall of sound. I was the new kid in a new town, and these were the guys who owned the place, and they sat back and looked at me like, "Come on, come on, punk, bring it — let's see what you got." And I reached back, and I burnt their house down.

But predating all of this was Steve Van Zandt. Singer! Frontman! Frontman! He was the frontman — I walked into the Middletown Hullabaloo Club, he was the frontman for a band called The Shadows. He had on a tie that went from here down to his feet. All I remember is that he was singing The Turtles' "Happy Together." During a break — at the Hullabaloo Club in New Jersey, you played 55 minutes on and five minutes off, and if there was a fight, you had to rush back onstage and start playing again. So I met Stevie there, and he soon became my great... bass player first, then great guitarist. My consigliere, he's my dependable devil’s advocate whenever I need one. He is the invaluable ears for everything that I create — I always get a hold of him — and fan number one. He's my comic foil onstage, my fellow producer/arranger, and my blood, blood, blood, blood, blood brother, for so long. So, Stevie, let’s keep rolling for as many lives as they’ll give us, alright?

Years and bands went by: Child, Steel Mill, the Bruce Springsteen Band... they were all some combo of the above-mentioned gang. Then I scored a solo recording contract with Columbia Records, and I argued to get to choose my recording "sidemen" — which was a misnomer, in this case, if there ever was one. So, I chose my band, and my great friends, and we finally landed on E Street. A rare, rock 'n' roll hybrid of solo artistry and a true rock 'n' roll band.

But one big thing was missing.

So! It was a dark and stormy night! [Laughs] As a Nor’easter rattled the street lamps of Kingsley Blvd! And in walked Clarence Clemons. I'd been enthralled by the sax sounds of King Curtis and Junior Walker and had searched for years for a great rock 'n' roll saxophonist, and that night Clarence walked in, walked towards the stage, and he rose, towering to my right on the Prince's tiny stage, about the size of this podium, and then he unleashed the force of nature that was the sound and the soul of the Big Man. In that moment, I knew that my life had changed. Miss you, love you, Big Man — we wish you were here with us tonight. This would mean a great, great deal to Clarence.

An honorable mention and shout-out to Ernie "Boom" Carter, the drummer who played on one song only: "Born to Run." He picked a good one, he picked a good one. So here's to you, Ernie. Thank you, thank you.

And thank you of course to Max Weinberg and Roy Bittan, who answered an ad in the Village Voice, and they beat out 60 other drummers and keyboardists for the job. It was the indefatigable, almost dangerously dedicated Mighty Max Weinberg and the fabulous flying fingers of Professor Roy Bittan. They refined and they defined the sound of the E Street Band that remains our calling card around the world to this day. Thank you, Roy. Thank you, Max. They are my professional hitmen! Love you both.

Then, ten years later, Nils Lofgren and Patti Scialfa joined just in time to assist us in the rebirth of Born in the U.S.A. Nils, one of the world's great, great rock guitarists with the choir boy’s voice, has given me everything he’s had for the past 30 years. Thank you, Nils. So much love.

And Patti Scialfa, a Jersey Girl, came down one weekend from New York City and sat in with a local band, Cats on a Smooth Surface and Bobby Bandiera at the Stone Pony, and she sang a killer version of The Exciters' "Tell Him." She had a voice that was filled with a little Ronnie Spector, a little Dusty Springfield, and a lot of something that was her very, very own. After she was done, I walked up, I introduced myself to her at the back bar. We grabbed a couple of stools and we sat there for the next hour — or 30 years or so [laughs]. Talked about music and everything else. So we added my lovely red-headed woman, and she broke the boys club!

I wanted our band to mirror our audience, and by 1984, that meant grown men and grown women. But, her entrance freaked us out so much that the opening night of the Born in the U.S.A. tour, I asked her to come in to my dressing room and see what she was gonna wear. And she had on kind of a slightly feminine T-shirt, and I stood there, kind of sweating. At my feet, I had a little Samsonite luggage bag that I carried with me, and I kicked it open, and it was full of all my smelly, sweaty T-shirts. And I said, "Just pick one of these [laughs]. It'll be fine!" She's not wearing one tonight. But Patti, I love you, thank you for your beautiful voice, you changed my band and my life. Thank you, honey. Thank you for our beautiful children.

Real bands: real bands are made primarily from the neighborhood. From a real time and a real place that exists for a little while, then changes, and is gone forever. They're made from the same circumstances, the same needs, the same hungers, culture, from the same need for a love to cover over hurt. They're forged in the search of something more promising then what you were born into. These are the elements, the tools, and these are the people who built a place called E Street.

Now, E Street was a dance, was an idea, was a wish, was a refuge, was a home, was a destination, was a gutter dream, and finally, it was a band. We struggled together, and sometimes we struggled with one another. We bathed in the glory and often the heartbreaking confusion of our rewards together. We’ve enjoyed health, and we've suffered illness and aging and death together. We took care of one another when trouble knocked, and we hurt one another in big and small ways.

But in the end, we kept faith with each other. And one thing is for certain: as I've said before in reference to Clarence Clemons, I told a story with the E Street Band that was and is bigger than I ever could have told on my own. And I believe that that settles that question. For that is the hallmark of a rock 'n' roll band: the narrative you tell together is bigger than any one of you could have told on your own. That’s the Rolling Stones. That's the Sex Pistols. That's Bob Marley... and the Wailers. That's James Brown... and his Famous Flames. That's Neil Young and Crazy Horse. So, I thank you, my beautiful men and women of E Street. You made me dream and love bigger than I ever could have without you.

And tonight I stand here with just one regret. That's that Danny and Clarence can't be with us tonight. Sixteen years ago, a few evenings before my own induction, I stood in my own darkened kitchen along with Steve Van Zandt. Steve was just returning to the band, after a 15-year hiatus, and he was petitioning me to push the Hall of Fame to induct all of us together. And I listened, and the Hall of Fame had its rule, and I was proud of my independence. We hadn't played together in ten years, we were somewhat estranged. We were just taking the first small steps of reforming, and we didn't know what the future would bring. And perhaps a shadow of the some of the old grudges still held some sway. It was a conundrum, because we'd never been quite fish nor fowl. And Steve was quiet, but persistent, and at the end of our conversation he just said, "Yeah, yeah, I understand... but Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band — that's the legend."

So I’m proud to induct, into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, booty-shaking, love-making, earth-quaking, Viagra-taking, testifying, death-defying, legendary E Street Band!

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leiascully · 5 years

Text

Fic: Baseball Metaphors (6/?)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Oops hi did you want more? It’s PG-13.

+ + + +

Ethan asks Mulder about local sports teams as they wait for dessert and Mulder genially plays along. It's another cliché, but at least he is actually interested in sports. It's been a while since he and Danny managed to catch a football game.

"Hard to keep up when we're out of town so much," he says, settling his arm more firmly around Scully, who leans gently against him.

"I'm sure," Ethan says. "I'm impressed."

"He's cheating," Scully says fondly. "It helps to have a photographic memory."

"Guilty," Mulder says, and grins.

"Sounds helpful," Jenny says. "At least, it would be in our line of work."

"In ours, it's sometimes a curse," Mulder says solemnly, and Ethan and Jenny both look taken aback and then a little abashed.

"Of course," Jenny mumbles.

"It's all right," Mulder says. "That's why the Bureau has in-house therapists."

"Well, given what happened to Dana, it seems like that's a pretty useful benefit," Ethan says.

"Oh, let's not talk about that," Scully says with a tinkling little laugh. "It's been such a nice night. Let's not spoil it."

"She's right," Mulder says. "It's been a nice night."

"We should do it again sometime," Jenny says brightly.

"Absolutely," Scully says, and they're saved by the arrival of dessert. Scully takes a bite and groans with pleasure, a little dramatically in Mulder's opinion, but he can't argue with the frisson that goes up his spine. She sinks the fork back into the little cake and brings the next morsel to his mouth. He closes his lips slowly around the fork and lets the chocolate melt onto his tongue.

"Mmmm," he says, and she smiles at him. He cracks the burnt sugar shell on the top of his crème brûlée with the back of his spoon and offers her the first bite. She licks the custard off the spoon, her tongue darting between her lips. No French kissing until Paris, he thinks, but aren't they about as close as they can get tonight? The chocolate cake is fine, tasty even, but he's sure it would be delicious on her lips.

They trade bites of the bittersweet cake and the creamy custard. Scully steadies herself with one hand on his thigh as she leans closer. Maybe it's just been a while since he was actually touched by a woman, but his heart beats faster, circulating blood to interesting places. If he and Scully were alone, he might make an Eiffel Tower joke. She'd probably say something about him not being worthy of a World's Fair. If they were still in view of Ethan and Jenny, he'd slip an arm around her waist and kiss her. Otherwise, he'd just smirk and push his hands into his pockets the way he always does. But it's good, the way she's braced against him. It lends credence to their narrative.

"Divine," Scully declares when they've left only traces of dessert on the plates. The busser comes to clear everything away as the waiter approaches with the check.

"Please, allow me," Ethan says, reaching for his wallet.

"We couldn't," Mulder tells him, sitting up and fishing for his own wallet.

Ethan puts out his hand. "I insist. I know that federal salary schedule is thankless. Our treat, as a thanks for all you do."

"It's the least we can do," Jenny says.

"That's awfully kind," Mulder says, leaning back and slinging his arm around Scully again. "We'll get the next one."

"What a great idea, honey," Scully says, rubbing his thigh.

"I knew we could work this out," Ethan says. He hands over his credit card.

"Gosh, this was so nice," Jenny gushes. "I heard so much about you before, Dana. It's nice to finally put a face to the stories."

"Good stories, I hope," Scully murmurs.

"Oh, of course," Jenny says earnestly. "I mean, I was half-expecting a halo."

"She saves the halo for the weekends," Mulder tells her. "And church, of course."

"Oh, stop," Scully says in a pleased voice.

"I really thought I'd be going to your wedding," Jenny continues. "Watching this guy be the one that got away." She laughs and loops her arm through Ethan's. "I was really sorry to hear that you moved away for a while."

"Is that what he said happened?" Scully asks. Her smile turns brittle.

"You remember, babe," Mulder says, stroking her shoulder. "That temporary assignment. Rough case, but you made it through."

"I certainly did," she says.

"Special commendation," Mulder says in a confidential tone. "She doesn't like to brag."

"Same old Dana," Ethan says, shaking his head.

"Same old me," Scully agrees. Her voice is only barely tight, but Mulder can feel the tension in her. "Anyway. It's classified, unfortunately, or I'd tell you all about it."

"What's really important is that it brought us together," Mulder says. "It really made me realize how much I needed you in my life. Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone."

She smiles weakly at him. "You need Joni Mitchell?"

"I do," he says solemnly. "And you."

"That's so sweet," Jenny says. "You two need to hush or I'll start crying again."

The waiter brings the check back for Ethan to sign and they start gathering their things. Not a moment too early in Mulder's opinion. He helps Scully up and keeps his arm around her as they walk out. They wave goodbye to Jenny and Ethan as they get into the car. Mulder checks his mirrors and pulls out into traffic, merging smoothly into the flow.

Scully sighs, a long exhalation. "That was...something."

"At least they were nice," Mulder offers. "Mostly."

"They were nice," Scully agrees. "And she's very pretty."

"Hmm," Mulder says.

She darts a glance at him, amused. "It's all right," she says. "You can admit that she's pretty."

"Not my taste," Mulder avers.

"Really," Scully says, crossing her arms. "I seem to recall you expressing interest in lithe brunettes on several occasions."

"I'm into redheads now," he tells her. "Petite ones."

She snorts. "You're not on stage anymore, Mulder."

"I'm a method actor," he says. "I have to live the experience. Right now I'm living the experience of being deeply in love with you and deeply full of mediocre food."

"At least we didn't order the boeuf bourguignon pocket," she says. "God, they're buying a house. They're having a baby. They have jobs where they get bonuses."

"Hey," he says. "I know you don't need the reminder, Scully, but you have an impressive career. You're an accomplished person with credentials and integrity anyone would admire." He pauses. "And you're a beautiful woman."

"Aren't you supposed to save that kind of commentary for when I'm about to get out of the car?" she asks.

"Nah," he says. "This way you know it's not just a line."

"Nothing's ever just a line with you," she mumbles, toeing off her shoes and pulling her feet onto the car seat. "There's always some deeper meaning. It's like I'm always in freshman literature, analyzing every word you say."

"I'm not even an upper-level seminar?" he asks. "Can't wait to read your dissertation on Fox Mulder's bullshit."

"It's my life's work," she says, rolling her eyes. "But thank you. For all of it."

He reaches out and flourishes his fingers at her until she takes his hand. "You're welcome."

They ride like that for a few minutes, parallel lives in the dark, following the tracks of the headlights.

"Mulder," she says. "When I was halfway in your lap in the restaurant. Was that an Eiffel Tower joke I felt?"

"I am nothing if not predictable," he says, glad it's dark so she can't see the faint flush on his face. "I told you, I'm a method actor."

"I see," she says. "Let me guess: the elevator's working."

"You said it, I didn't." He makes a left turn and then has to stop almost immediately at the next light, backed up behind a line of cars. "Although that is the 'is your refrigerator running' of Eiffel Tower jokes."

"I see," she says. She tugs at her seatbelt, leans over, and gazes at him for a moment.

"Wha-" he starts to say, and then she kisses him, her mouth open, her tongue brushing against his. He melts like the inside of his crème brûlée, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. She doesn't taste like chocolate or wine or cream, but he can't get enough of her anyway. His thumb skates over her cheekbone, traces the shell of her ear, and slips down to caress her throat as she kisses him insistently, her fingers weaving into his hair.

They only break apart when someone honks behind them, a loud long blast. Scully jumps back into her seat and rebuckles her belt - he didn't even notice when she undid it. She tugs her skirt down her thighs and smooths her hair as he puts the car into gear. The honking behind them finally stops.

Mulder coughs as he accelerates. "I thought no French kissing until Paris."

"In a way, we went to Paris," she says thoughtfully, her voice a little raspier than normal. "And you can't tell me that meal was fulfilling."

"I do find a third course of tongue very satisfying," he admits.

"You've only had one so far," she says. He risks a glance at her. She cocks an eyebrow at him. "Although it would seem it only takes one to call your elevator. So to speak."

"I guess you're a certified elevator technician," he says. "I always suspected that about you, Scully."

She smiles. Her teeth and her eyes glint in the glow from the streetlights. "I do have a certain reputation for being mechanically inclined," she says modestly.

He makes a slightly strangled noise that isn't quite a laugh or a groan. She smirks and takes his hand again, tracing each of his fingers. He's never been more glad to drive an automatic.

It seems to take forever to get to her building. Almost as soon as he's got the car in park she's leaning toward him again, and he meets her halfway this time. He runs his seat back as far on its runners as it will go, which is only a few notches more, but it gives him space to pull her onto his lap without her leaning against the horn. She twists to twine her arms around him. And then they're kissing again, and her mouth is hot and welcoming, and he can feel her muscles flexing under her dress where his arm is wrapped around her waist. She wriggles until she's straddling him, her knees digging into the sides of his thighs. He lets his hands slide down to her thighs, to the warm edges of the lace that keep slipping up and up. She presses against him and time disappears. He loses himself in the warmth of her, the physical reality of her, the softness and hardness of her. So much of their back and forth is intellectual that sometimes he forgets the physical, but not now, oh, not now, when she's balanced above him, both of them panting into each other's mouths. Her lips slide across his to kiss his cheek and his jaw. He tries to slow the heave of his chest. The windows of his car are fogging up.

"Thanks for dinner," she whispers into the hollow under his chin.

"I didn't even pay for it," he reminds her.

"Thanks," she says, nipping at the skin of his throat, "for being there. For having my back. For playing along."

"I'll play along as long as you want," he gasps.

"Good," she says, sitting up. "Because I'm afraid we will have to have dinner with them again."

"Inevitably," he agrees. "That's fine."

"I'm glad you understand," she says. She reaches across for something - her little bag - and then unlocks the door. The night air makes him shiver, even though it isn't cold. She tips herself off his lap and out of the car.

"Next time I'll wear something that's more conducive to you reaching second base," she says, leaning in to kiss him one last time. He makes it linger, tugging gently at her bottom lip with his teeth until she's the one gasping.

"I'll swing for the fences," he promises.

She smirks. "I'd expect nothing less."

He watches her go into her building and waits until the lights come on in her apartment. She waves briefly at the window and he shifts back into drive and points himself toward his own place. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the gratitude. Maybe she was taking out the fact that she and Ethan never had closure (and by closure he means breakup sex) on Mulder, which, for the record, he's fine with, even if it's probably mostly the fact that he's the closest warm body. Maybe she's a method actor too, gathering material for their next drama. He examines his deepest feelings and determines he's just happy to be involved, although he does kind of wish he owned a Joni Mitchell album now. He taps his fingers on his thigh as he drives, humming to himself.

He won't need visual aids tonight, not even the ones featuring petite redheads. He's definitely looking forward to their next dinner.

#the x-files fic #xfiles fic #the xfiles fic #msr #mulder x scully #fic: baseball metaphors #my fic

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