Tumgik
#when i ordered it said only 10 left in stock so he might be gone now too 😭
hebezunet ¡ 2 years
Text
the reigen and mob plushes came back in stock on amazon and I was able to snag them... epic
13 notes ¡ View notes
whatdoesshedotothem ¡ 2 years
Text
Tuesday 4 July 1837
8 Âź
12 10
fine morning F65° at 9 10 – breakfast about 10 minutes or ¼ hour with A- before Mr. Gray came asked how she was  middling   I calmly said she could not be better going on in this way I was very sorry only wished her happiness would not wish her to stay here if she thought she could be happier anywhere but it was a serious thing  in leaving here she left independence and I thought almost every comfort  she cried but did not speak as she had evidently done her breakfast I begged she would not stay unless she liked it and she was just gone before Mr. Gray came – sat talking to Mr. Gray about furnishing the hotel – he very knowing about beds and furniture in general – particularly about feathers – should buy the tick and weigh it than put in as many feathers as required and weigh the bed and pay for the feathers per lb. 1/6 per lb. for the best Dantzic – well dressed by the feather merchant – will ¼ weight or 6lbs. out of 20 in dressing – feathers called 1st and 2nd
SH:7/ML/E/20/0086
grays – 2nd grays as good as the 1st but the 1st a better colour, that is, white – feathers should be well stoved (in a large iron room (oven) with sulphur) on apt to smell putrid – sat talking till 10 1/3 when Holt came and Wood the engineer  Grays’ brother in law an upholster did not wish me to name this to Mr. Harper or the head designed for upholsterers some allow their designers ssix guineas a week – had H- in the little room with the great plan before us – it will be difficult for Messrs. Stocks and co. to carry off the Spiggs water – talked over Mr. Rawson’s low bed sough or loose, and staith at the bottom of the Bank – H- would rather give him a thousand pounds than miss it – Mr. Pollett came at last after 11 Mr. Harper came and finding H- with me I left them a little while together and while the 4 men were together I came upstairs – copied the plan of Lower brea by SW- dated 21 January and lent to me by Mr. George R- sometime back – Mr. Harper sent for me – gave him Bates’ estimates – Wood throws blame on Mr. Husband – sent off John Booth immediately for Mr. Husband and with a line or 2 in pencil to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam solicitors H-x’ to ask either of them to be here at 8 this evening to meet Mr. Harper and told John to let Holt the engineer know Mr. Harper was here – went into the cellar – looking over papers of one sort or other and wrote the above of today till now 1 ½ - a little while ago the H-x paper came and a civil letter from Mr. Harper’s brother the solicitor at York to say his brother had not received my letter but he (Mr. Edward H- the solicitor) had written to inform him of there being such letter – H-x letter queer looking address to me or A- one or both informing me or her that Francis Carter had let his house for lodgings to a man who pottered the whole street and begging ‘pase’  peace, I suppose – went down to A- she said she had written to her sister and after telling the contents gave me the copy of her letter to read  little Mary and Hannah to go next Friday week A- said she had asked for Crownest  thought of going to Scotland for three weeks and asked me to let George go with her as far as Edinburgh  she should order furniture in Leeds in going  at Kendells’  of course I thought all arranged well then said I it is done I can only hope you will be happy  I supposed there was an explanation to her sister and said am glad you have written for if you had not I should  I am satisfied this is the best way you could have managed the matter I was not a little surprised to find the letter so expressed that that Mrs. S- would suppose A- wanted part of Crownest for some friend no hint at her going to Scotland nothing that as at explanatory or that could not easily be got over it might have been done to try me I saw this and laughed in my sleeve but said nothing and went to Mr. Harper a little while with Mr. Harper – he had sent for me vid. line 12 of this page to say Wood the engineer said he had never seen the plan of the wheel as amended by Mr. Husband and approved at York – I had sent off John Booth to H-x immediately for Mr. Husband and Messrs. Pollett and Wood were detained till he came – he proved that Mr. Wood had seen the plan and had it in his possession some weeks and it being referred to in the estimate Mr. Harper took Mr. Husbandds’ copy of the plan and signed it, and insisted on the contract being adhere to – he agreed to my agreement for the pen-trough etc and allowed extra £6 for the back shuttle omitted! in the last estimate – H- said he was glad to settle the matter on these terms – afraid of their setting aside the contract, and then he could not tell what I should have to pay (some hundred) for useless weight of iron – they would now lose £30 or £40 by it – He had bound them down to a month for having all done – but they were to make all possible exertion to get the pumps going in a fortnight from this time –Mr. Husband to be finally settled with tomorrow – a clerk of the works would be wanted for 2 months longer – I begged Blythe might have the place – H- had named it to him and he begged to consider about it – it was now about 21/4 – went back to A- who left me for ¼ hour while I saw Mr. Jubb in the north parlour and sat with her till she rode off to Cliff Hill about 3 ½ - began by hoping her going to Scotland would do her good she did not know that she should go said I had always thought she had better not go there without me and that she had better make a very different journey and go with me to Rotterdam etc etc I quizzed her a little and I think she was not sorry to get right again   when she said we had been unhappy of late no no said I not we I know nothing about it and you have been more unhappy in your stomach than in your heart – told A- I had asked Mr. Jubb (who called about 2 ¼) what he thought would be good for her; and I much wished she would be persuaded to take what he recommended (blue pill at night and effervescing draught in the morning)  out again about 3 ½ - about with Mawson at the hay barn road thro’ the wood – (A- took back to Lower brea this afternoon the plan of the Lower brea land I rough copied this morning) sometime with Mawson settling about the hay barn road – the 3 men he has now at the meer barrowing stuff (ornament stuff) to the by wash not enough for so long a run as from near the hut (on the other side) and to be taken off tomorrow to form the hay barn thro’ the wood at 4/. per rood – at the meer about 5 – full nearly within 2 or 3 in. up to the by wash so as to run over – stood musing and watching the 3 men till 6 – came in at 6 10 – dinner at 6 ¼ Mr. Harper (1st time) dined with us he having to stay till 8 to meet Mr. Parker respecting advertising and letting the Northgate hotel –sat at table about 1 ½ hour – Mr. Harper explained defect in Fowlers’ Hungford market roof (the tie-beams supported by iron rods the iron rods too slender to be of any use as spurs) and said that turning to his papers the other day reminded him of professor Morris of Cambridge shewing that the Menai bridge was wrong in principle the curve ab should = bc and equilibrium is the principle of a suspension bridge .:. ed should = cd which is not the case
SH:7/ML/E/20/0087
but Telford was the inventor of the suspension principle and was thinking too much of the invention to work it out right – Professor Airie had observed at the 1st (in his lectures) that there was an error in the mathematical construction but left his pupils to find it out – had not courage to explain – Captain Brown saw the error and built Hammersmith bridge over the Thames right – Vauxhall bridge would tumble but for the smartness of the span of the arches – the famous bridge over the Doria at Turin (vid. last and 1st no. of the Transactions of the engineers) tumbling down – too little allowed by government for the school of drawing (architectural drawing) £250 per annum – one or 2 necessary works would cost the whole EG. Piranesis’ antiquities of Rome – could not be bought perfect for less than £100 in Rome – and duty 1d. per plate – it would cost from £100 to £150 – the celebrated German work (published at Berlin and just complete) on ornament = £30 guineas English money at Berlin – Mr. Parker came at 8 – left him with Mr. Harper about ½ hour – then had all in to tea and coffee at 8 ½ - A- had talked more than usual at dinner – joined in the conversation con spirit, and ditto ditto at tea – spoke very decidedly against Mr. Carrs’ having the hotel – to be advertised immediately – in the London Times and Morning Herald – 2 H-x papers Leeds mercury Liverpool ditto Manchester Guardian Yorkshire Gazette and Edinburgh North British advertiser = 9 papers – Mr. Harper said he had told Mr. Parker what it should let for to remunerate me  (which seemed to be £450) – H- thought 5pc. enough on building! and had evidently reckoned 5pc on £7000 + £3000 as value of the old house and land taken – yet he afterwards seemed to eat up his words a little so as to mean 5pc. clear and 2pc. to be laid by for repairs – but £450 rent = 5pc. on £1000 without anything to lay by for repairs – However he said I had better turn it to something else than little it for less than £300 a year – Mr. P- thought Carr should have it for less than anybody else – why said I, should he have Northgate for a hundred a year less than he now pays for the White Swan? the absurdity struck P- and he agreed that he ought not to pay less than £400 – but to ask £500 – he from the 1st moment mentioned furniture – I agreed that if required I would find all but plate, china, linen, and culinary things – I think there was a 5th exception but I forget what – what pc. to be paid on the furniture? put it to the vote all round A- and Mr. Harper said 10 Mr. Gray 15 Mr. P- 20pc.  and would not take less – H- thought £2000 would do all required of me – term to be 5 years – security for the rent from 1 September next – Blythe considered to accept the place of clerk of the works – P- took me aside into the little parlour and gave me back my bond of 1835 to Mr. William Wainhouse for £1000 – it was 10 ½ before Messrs. P- and H- went away – raining then
Mawson having the mowing and hay making and housing at 13/. per D.W. he finding all beer cut the grass growing on the intend Incline platform at the top of the bank – yesterday afternoon and mowed the wheat field today – he pays for 7D.W. mowing advised by J. Booth
Robert Mann + 5 at the new pool a little while in the morning then the rest of the day throwing up on the east side the soil of the back Lodge road near the top – 3 of Mawsons’ men at the meer barrowing stuff from near the hut to by-wash ornament – 2 masons at the new door into the kitchen – Edward at the laundry drying closet - [?] of the old garden wall near the west yew tree taken down for bricks for the laundry chimney – fine day raining at 10 ½ pm F55° at 11 10 pm
3 notes ¡ View notes
imgucciking ¡ 3 years
Text
Mmmh [KAI]
Listen as you read
Pairing: Idol!Boyfriend!Kai X Fan!Reader 
Genre: Smut, Smut, Smut. After care fluff. And some fluff at the start.
Words: 2k
Warning: Masturbation! Cursing! Marking! Eating out! Penetration! Size kink! Unprotected sex! [stay safe y'all] 
A/N: My first work on tumblr, I wanted to start of with Kai.
Kai was your boyfriend, and he had been for a total of 3 years last month. You had spent the time well at home, he had even cooked some dinner for the both of you! A surprise cake was baked by him as well, in the flavour of chocoltae, your favorite [ You didn't tell him how you found a few egg shells in it]
But right now though, the pair of you were separated. You lived near the outskirts of Seoul, while the headquarters of SM, as well as Kai's house was in the middle of the busy city. Kai was busy with the preparation of his new solo, whiich he hadn't even revealed the name for to you.
He said it was super secret and it would be ruined if he revealed. You of course had pouted, and even tried some aegyo, which you never did in order to get him to tell you what the song was called, atleast. Somehow though, he never told you. On the november 25, the teaser of mmmh had been revealed. 
You had watched the video, then went straight to your bed, your phone in hand, already dialling kai. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? WHY YOU GOTTA KILL ME?" He had laughed. He fucking laughed. That. Was. It
You were so excited for today! Mmmh was finally getting released and of course you were excited! You got your big computer ready, put it on full screen, 4k quality and the volume was full on. Your phone was right beside ou incase kai decided that he was going to kill you in this mv like the teaser. 
You used the phone a lot. You called him the moment the song started, and of course, he was there, like the sweet boyfriend he was to listen to you fangirl over him, and then gasp and pretend to die when he revealed his abs. He found it very endearing that you did all this. Then, once you were done watching the mv for about the 100th time, he asked ou to always call him like this cause he found it awesome.
You blushed before replying with an ok and then cutting the call. 
It had been a month since then. You were going through the many memories you and Kai had created right now, looking through the million selfies and photos on your phone, your background music being a 10 hour version of mmmh. Bless the soul which made such an awesome repeat.
"You make me feel so mmmh hmmm~" You mouthed the words. All of a sudden, the repeat got over. You pouted to yourself, your hands reaching over to your phone to see what was going on. But suddenly, the song played again, only this time his voice sounded deeper, sexier. Your thighs automatically came closer, his deep voice doing something to your inside. 
Tentatively, you let your hand travel lower down your body, underneath jong-in's hoodie which you had on. You let out a breathy gasp as your fingers came in contact with your heat. You allowed your hands to travel the rim, but not deep in. You wanted to tease yourself. 
And oh were you doing a good job at it. You lied your body more comfortably on the bed, then spread your legs wide, your/kai's hoodie pulled up until it was bunched up underneath your neck. Your nipples had formed hard pebbles due to the cold air in the room, and your left hand was currently playing around with your left breast, twisting it around, rubbing it, and playing with your tits. 
One hand still rested comfortably within the folds of your clit, gently flicking it and pinching at the sensitive nub. One important rule of kai's was that you never played with yourself, because he wanted to be the one to please you, but the thought was long gone from your head, and besides, it wasn't like kai was coming home today, was he?
Oh how wrong could you have been.
The door clicked open loudly, as Jong-In stepped into the house. "I'm home baby!" His words, however were left to drift into the silence, as you were far too lost in the pleasure your fingers were causing you. Granted, they weren't as large as Kai's, but it did the deed and that's all you wanted. 
You were edging closer and closer to your high. "O-Oh! Kai!~" You screeched, as you finally cummed all over your fingers, the white sticky substance coating your hand. Kai heard you. And judging by the way you sounded, he also knew what you were doing right now. 
His cock twitched in his pants, like waking up from a long nap. "God Y/N..." He groaned, before pulling his shoulder back off and placing it on the table. Unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of his top, he walked into your shared bedroom. God how you lay on the bed, his hoodie all bunched up on you, your fingers still buried deep within your cunt. The tent in his pants became painful to handle as he stalked closer to you.
Your eyes were shut from how you rode out your high, your breathing heavy as you rested. Jong In edged closer to your body, before he put his lips very close to your ears. "Didn't I teach you to not touch yourself?" Your eyes shot open as you looked up at his figure hovering over your tiny self. 
His lips were curved up in a smirk. "K-Kai I-" You were cut of by him placing his finger on your lips. "Hush...." He removed his finger once he was sure you would keep quiet, his fingers now wrapped around your airpods, as he plugged one of them off your ear. "What were you listening to, baby?"
He puts one into his ear, greeted by his voice singing out. "Ahh baby.... My song?" You nod furiously, not wanting to do anything that might displease him. He let out a groan seeing you so submissive. He pulled it out, then curled his fingers round your phone which lay forgotten beside you. 
He disconnected the earphones, allowing his voice to sing out loud. "I'm going to fuck you, with my voice in the background. Is that okay babygirl?" You nod once more. His fingers curl around your neck, a tight grip. "Use your voice~" You quickly let it out. "Yes, kai!"
"Ah ah!" He tutts, his grip around your neck tightening. "What is my name?" Your eyes widen before you remember. "Yes s-sir!" He nods, before smiling, his fingers unravelling from you neck, to your hair as he gently strokes it. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" His tugs at your hair, pulling you up into a sitting position. 
"Such a good, good girl.... But you've been bad now.... Should I punish you?" Your eyes widen. "No sir! I'm s-sorry!" He smirks, before pulling the hoodie of your body entirely. He inches close to you, and you think he is about to kiss you so you pucker your lips. "Ah ah! Only good girls get kisses!" You pout, and Jong in almost wants to kiss you now.
"I'm sorry!" You say again, as you try to pull him towards you. But he, is able to resist, and he buries his face deep into your neck, gently breathing in and out your scent, his breath hitting right on your sensitive area. He knew how crazy you get when he does that.
"Sir!" You moan, your voice sounding foreign to even yourself. Kai's teeth sink into your soft unmarked skin, as he paint art on you. He was the artist, and you were the canvas, nothing you could do would get you out of this. Once he was done with the hickeys covering your neck, he stood up and went to the chest of drawers were you stored your... toys..
Kai was a bit overexcited with the usage of toys and such, so the pair of you had bought an entire cupboard to keep in the stock of your sex toys. 
He selects a black blindfold, and fuzzy cuffs. Mmmh...Your favorite.
He ties the blindfold around your eyes, and seats you up on the bed, with your hands cuffed tightly. Not too tight enough for it to hurt, but tight enough to not allow you to escape its grasp. You struggle a bit, adjusting your body, till you feel a flat muscle lick against your cunt. 
Your body goes rigid and you stop moving around. He smirks against you, and he knows you can feel him right there. He lets out a soft groan, when you start grinding yourself onto his face, but his hands go to your thighs and he quickly stops you by holding your thighs. 
You whine and whimper at the sudden hold, but he teases you by letting his tongue wander all over your heat, but not where you want it this most. "Kai!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Please!" He suddenly stops. "Ah, ah... What's my name?" "Sir!!!!!"
"Good girl, I'll award you, shall I?"
He starts lapping at your juices, sucking, pinching, and stroking at your cunt. Your eyes had rolled back so far into your sockets, that you thought it might get stuck right there. His tongue was much better at pleasing you than your fingers, and the tightening in your stomach only increased. 
"Jong In!! I'm gonna c-" His warmth suddenly leave you. You look up at him, to see him smirking at you. You whine at not being able to release. "I think you've been stretched quite enough, right Jagi?" He unlocks the handcuffs, before tying it again onto you, except this time its not against the bed.
He undresses himself quickly, and as soon as he gets his underwear off, his large member flips against his lower abdomen. Your eyes feast on his naked body, all the ripped muscles on it. You want to trace your fingers over him, but your hands are unfortunately locked. 
You groan at this fact. His hands curl around his member as he strokes it, coating it with his pre cum. Once its enough, he bends over and produres his head into your heat. You groan at the feeling, clenching him and trying to pull him. "So thirsty for my dick, babygirl? Well then, I'll give you what you want!" 
He suddenly pounds into you, thrusting hard and not even allowing you to adjust to his length and girth. "God!" You screech, the pain and pleasure mixing together to cause something totally new. Your hands tug of your blindfold, wanting to see Kai fuck you deep. 
He lifts your left leg up, and places is onto his shoulders, reaching to places within you that had never been touched. "Feel me there? Right in that pretty little stomach of yours baby?" "Oh god yes! You scream, and you know your neighbours will be able to hear you quite well. 
But Kai liked that. He liked to show them all who you belonged to.
He grunts as you clench tightly around him, nearly not allowing to thrust. You were close and he got that. He pound into you even harsher, like an animal unleashed and allowed to do whatever it wanted with your body. He reaches over to your hair, and tugs you up. 
You comply, placing your head on his chest as he continues his work. These move was all you needed for you to come, and you let your cum flow, your eyes rolling to the back of your socket and all you can see for awhile is white. 
He continues pounding into you, chasing his own high. You, being hypersensitive clench tightly around him. This pulled him over the edge, and he cummed into you, releasing his load well. 
He lied next to you, both of you panting and sweaty. His cum flows a bit out of you, wetting the bed below. "That was-" Kai smiles at you. "I love you, Jagi" 
You grin, feeling a bit sleepy. "I love you too baby" 
149 notes ¡ View notes
angelanimedesaray ¡ 3 years
Text
Wings in the Dark Chapter 10:  Reparations
AN:  Yaaaaaayyyyy I got this one done.  For some reason I’ve been in a weird spot where I write more on my phone and my focus is better when I write on my phone, but I’m also super vulnerable to typos because AUTOCORRECT and its just harder for me to spot on the smaller screen with the tiny text, so excuse any typos.
Characters:  Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Petra, Oluo (Mentioned), Eld (Mentioned)
Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader
Warnings:  Language.  Ikr, we just got super tame after a wiiild ride.
Word Count:  5124
<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->
Tumblr media
*Levi’s POV*
“I’ll admit, it would have been nice to know ahead of time that you were going to hijack the interrogation like that to antagonize her.”
Levi ignored the pointed jab at his actions down in the dungeons, gaze instead roaming around and taking stock of the people they past in a surveillance instinct too ingrained into his being by now for him to shut it off even going down the street towards a tea shop.
Considering L/N could hear so far out, even when she wasn’t paying attention, Erwin and Levi had decided to leave headquarters entirely to have this conversation.  Which was why they were now headed for a tea shop instead of Erwin’s office to discuss something so confidential.  Or at least their opinions on the situation, not necessarily the information itself.
"Did you at least get what you wanted out of it?" Erwin asked as they took seats at one of the outside tables.
"I did.  Mostly.  You?"
"I was skeptical when you told me, but after that little display of hers, she's clearly not human.  Not anymore."  Erwin leaned back in his seat and appraised Levi, their conversation pausing momentarily as they placed their order with the waitress that came outside to check on them.  Once she went back inside, Erwin continued.  "If you have more questions, why didn't you ask them before we left?"
"It had nothing to do with why we were there.  Personal curiosity. And it didn't seem like the time to ask."
Especially after he'd goaded her like that, making jabs at painful memories for her until she reacted, throwing harsh accusations at her semi-blindly and seeing if anything stuck.  The last thing she would want to do would be to give clarifying details about her past traumas to satiate his curiosity.
Her tale made her origins make more sense, but there were a few details that still weren't so clear to him.
The way she explained it, she was attacked and turned by a vampire the night before--for reasons unknown, he noticed.  She hadn't said why she was turned, or by who.  She'd actually glossed over that part and moved on--and then went home, not knowing what happened to her, thinking she was sick.  Her friend came to visit her, Y/N lost control, attacked and killed her, then fled.  He was sure there were details to make the tale far more gruesome, but this was what he knew for sure without letting his imagination run wild.
But then she'd shown up dead a few days later as well.  That was the part he was trying to figure out.
“Some deaths, okay, fine, I'll come back from it.”
So, she ran away after the initial panic, and then came back solely to fake her death so they wouldn't keep looking for her.
And by fake her death, she went for a...temporary death, something she would come back from.
But why go so far as to let herself be buried?  It was a closed casket funeral, so she could have snuck out before they sealed the casket and no one would have known.  Why wait?
He hadn't forgotten the fear and trauma in her eyes when she'd mentioned being buried alive was one of her deepest fears.  And now the mental image in his mind of a woman clawing desperately at a coffin, screaming for help while no one could hear her had a face to go with it, the face of someone he knew, no less.
It was humanly impossible to break out of a grave and crawl your way out.  But if you had vampire strength, and every time you suffocated from the lack of oxygen or the dirt crushing down on you and maybe even getting into your lungs...then it was possible. So long as you died a few times on the way up.
Shit...something like that had to do some damage to a person.
Not to mention what came after.  Forty years living in the Underground, roughly.  He'd only been down there a little over half the time she had.  And he hadn't spent it like she had--skulking in the shadows killing people because what she was demanded she kill to survive no matter where she was, and she couldn't go above ground not because it was denied to her, but because if she did she would literally die.  Yeah, he'd killed plenty of people in the Underground as well, but far less, and for a reason that was entirely different even if it could be worded the same.  He killed in fights because the Underground was that dangerous, or he was protecting people he cared about.  She had to actively hunt and kill people to...feed.
If she'd been in the Underground before he was even born...he wondered if they had ever crossed paths, and he just didn't remember.
Hell, with her criteria for who she hunted and killed, he was surprised she hadn't killed Kenny in all that time with him Underground.
Or maybe she had, after Kenny left.  It wasn't like Levi would know.  Though he was fairly certain the man had gone topside, which would mean out of her reach and away from her hunting grounds.
If only there was an alternative to her diet.  She’d laid out why it couldn’t be helped, and he understood that, they were good reasons.  But still, if there was another way...
“You're thinking about something rather hard over there, Levi,” Erwin commented, and Levi realized he’d been staring intently at the table and had even failed to notice that the waitress was in the process of delivering their tea.  Erwin was also watching him, though his hands were still in motion, his analytical gaze fixated on Levi’s still form.  Shaken out of his thoughts, Levi leaned back so he wasn’t leaning forward intently anymore, picking up his teacup to start drinking before it got cold.  Erwin waited until the waitress left to continue talking.  “Is it something I should know about her?  Another hunch, maybe?  The last one was mostly right.”
Levi snorted softly at that.  Mostly right his ass.  He’d been thinking murder and treason and assassinations, someone out to get them, someone seeking to harm people in the Scouts.  Ulterior motives and selfishness, malice.
Maybe the murder hadn’t been that far off, considering her body count, if he did the math right in his head.  And maybe she had been hiding a secret.  Perhaps she was dangerous, but so was Levi.  It didn’t mean she was an enemy.
“No,” he said curtly, putting an end to Erwin thinking Levi might be holding out on him regarding his suspicions after how off they’d both been about this situation.  “Like I said, it doesn't have to do with whether or not she's trustworthy and if she should be in the Scouts.  Just personal curiosity.”
“So you believe her?  About her intentions?” Erwin asked casually before taking a sip from his cup, eyes cast down as he spoke but flickering up to gauge Levi’s reaction once he finished speaking.
Levi eyed him because of the look on his face, but answered nonetheless.  “...I do.  She was sincere down there, some would say too honest.  Most people try to hide the fact they’ve killed hundreds--thousands--of people, or that they could kill the people who didn’t trust them without blinking an eye, but she was upfront about it.  She didn’t have to be.  She’s dangerous, that’s a reality no matter how you look at it, but she’s attempting to channel that into helping instead of just causing damage.”  Levi sighed, setting down his cup.  “I assumed a lot about her intentions and where she came from, and it's going to bite me in the ass.”
And he was probably going to have to put some effort into making amends after all this--especially with how he’d antagonized her down there and clearly crossed a boundary.  Several boundaries, actually.  And now that the moment had passed, the guilt was starting to settle in.  He’d accused her about some harsh stuff, some of which she was sensitive about, given her reactions.  She was the one who had to live with what she was, so he doubted someone going after the very things you might cling to in order to retain your humanity was something anyone would take kindly to.  After she saved his life--even if it had also been her that had almost killed him to begin with--after she protected him from herself and other vampires, even if he wasn’t aware, after she’d gone out of her way to learn from and appease the entire squad, after going through years of training to get where she was now, after putting so much at risk when she could have stayed safely in the shadows, after trying so hard to find a place topside, he’d jabbed at pretty much everything.  Her basic motives, her humanity, her intentions, her personality, everything.
He had a lot of damage control to do moving forward if they were going to keep working together.  He sincerely hoped he’d only damaged the well and hadn’t poisoned the water.  A damaged well he could fix, but a poisoned water supply…
Levi’s gaze narrowed at Erwin as he realized the other man still hadn’t said anything, his suspicions solidifying.
“What about you?  Do you think she’s a risk you’re willing to take?” Levi asked, echoing her words from down in the dungeon Levi had immediately known would catch Erwin’s attention.
“I am a man who likes a good gamble,” Erwin said with a bittersweet smile, resting his cheek on his fist as he considered the situation before them.  “As long as she’s not attacking other Scouts, she’s trying to keep her bloodlust under control, she’s not causing problems for or bringing more danger upon the Scouts...I don’t see why we shouldn’t let her stay.  From the sounds of it, having a vampire willingly join our ranks wanting to use all those abilities to help our cause is a once in a lifetime chance.  She’s offering it on a silver platter.  As long as she can keep herself under control, which she’s been able to do so far, I say we take her up on her offer.”
“And if she can’t?  If something happens and she loses control?” Levi asked, eyebrows raised.  She’d said it herself, she was a threat, there was always a chance something could happen, and that shouldn’t be forgotten.  But what would they do if she did slip up with no sign of being able to correct herself before it got out of hand?
“Then she’ll be our responsibility to take care of,” Erwin said evenly, gazing at Levi in a way that made him believe Levi would be the one to take care of her if she stepped out of line.  He had the best chance, yes, but it would still be risky.  “Hopefully we won’t have to kill her if anything goes wrong, she’s valuable, and it would be a huge setback to lose her vampire abilities...but if it ever comes to that…”
“It won’t be a problem,” Levi said flatly.  He meant that in the matter of conflict of interest, not that killing her if it ever came to that wouldn’t be difficult.
Erwin nodded.  “She stays in the Scouts, then.  I’ll have to factor in all this new information about where best to put her.  She probably shouldn’t be anywhere near medical, for her sanity’s sake.  And Levi?”  Levi fixed him with a stare as if to ask what the hell was up with his change of tone, which Erwin ignored.  “Considering the strangling tension between the two of you down in the dungeon, are you going to ease up now that you have the story--for the most part--or do I need to switch her to a different squad?”
Levi scoffed.  “I’m not going to apologize for being angry about the fact that she kills people, Erwin.”
“It's not like she has much of a choice, from the sound of it.  And she’s doing rather well, given her situation.  A lot of thought had to have gone into coming topside and joining the Scouts, how to pull it off.  She was ready with those questions, and considering she wasn’t planning on us figuring out what she was, that means she already went over those questions herself.  She’s going with what she believes to be the best route, and considering she’s more of an expert on the subject than we’ll probably ever be…”
Levi waved him off--he didn’t need this explanation, he already knew this.  She wasn’t going to prey on innocent people, she couldn’t afford to downgrade her diet too much considering she needed to be in peak health and control fighting in the Scouts, and she couldn’t just stop unless she wanted to die a slow and agonizing death.
Starvation over decades, maybe even centuries…
Regular starvation was bad enough, he knew that from personal experience.  He couldn’t imagine going out like that--he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.  Especially self-inflicted.
Levi’s gaze wandered to the few people in the street, moving idly from one person to the next, not really paying them any attention beyond basic people watching as he brought himself to his decision.
While he understood her position, that didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable with it.  But was he willing to try and make this work, to keep her on his squad--this time as his decision, not a decision Erwin made in the name of surveillance--and see if things could still work out despite the mess this entire ordeal had turned into that almost ended in his death.
Was it a damaged well, or poisoned water?
Was he going to cut his losses, or try to fix this?
“...Don’t put her on another squad,” he finally told Erwin.  “She’ll still have her skills put to the best use with my Squad.  I’ll figure out how to deal with...everything.”
He was going to try and make this work, despite the current friction between them.
The only question now, was how?
Tumblr media
Erwin was the one to tell L/N that she was staying in the Scouts, of course, and by extension he was also the one to tell her she'd remain on Levi's squad, and that it was Levi's job to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed in line.  As for Levi, it was back to business as usual while Erwin handled speaking with L/N.
And two days later, Levi abruptly decided that everyone was going to do a deep clean of HQ, assigning everyone at least one room, with L/N having two considering how fast and how well she cleaned, and himself having three so that he had plenty of time to think while he was cleaning.
Now that his concerns about betrayal and deceit had been assuaged, he could finally allow the softer sides of her he’d glimpsed to settle in his mind, too.  Between the darker side he now had a better picture of and the person he’d been seeing since she joined the Scouts, he could finally form a more complete picture of the new person on his squad and start to decide what he thought of her.
Any lingering concepts in his mind that she wasn’t up to the job went out the window--except for a general concern about her being around too much blood.  She hadn’t been in the middle of a truly hairy expedition with people dying left and right.  She’d been struggling when he was bleeding out in front of her--what would it be like when there were people dying bloody all around her?
Then again, she’d already pointed out that his blood was particularly alluring.
That was still an odd thing to think about--he was probably going to do his best not to think about it.
He wasn’t too worried about her being able to hand the more...psychological stresses of being a Scout.  If she could handle being directly responsible for death, and being around it so much after living in and hunting in the Underground, she might fare better than most in the environment.
If it hadn't been the sharper, harder edge he'd seen to her personality in the dungeon, the knowledge of the things she'd already seen and been through, he'd be worried she had too soft of a temperament and personality for the Scouts.  It had been what he'd seen from her before the whole vampire thing came out.
She was the woman who went out of her way to comfort the horses and make sure they knew they could trust her.  Who sat in the field with the horses and simply soaked in the sun's rays while drawing whatever she could see--namely horses, at least once the man who had been watching her, yet she never said a word.  She was the woman with a tea garden in a hidden corner of the Scout’s headquarters so that she could save more of her salary...and use it to shelter and provide for the parents who didn't know, and would probably never know, they're daughter was still alive.   The woman who snuck treats out to the horses from her own plate, who'd gotten at least half of Levi’s squad drinking their tea with a bit of white sage for health purposes--only Levi aware of just how much it was actually doing for them.  The one who had asked for a different kind of lesson or tutoring from each squad member so they wouldn’t feel like she was some air-headed newbie that thought she was better than everyone because she was put on a fast track to Levi’s squad fresh out of the cadets, so that they could feel like they were still teaching her something, that she was learning from them.  She was the kind of person who made little gestures like covering him with her cloak when she saw him asleep at the table without a second thought, or timing a fresh cup of black tea almost perfectly to help keep him alert when despite his insomnia he would start to feel tired in the middle of the day, who'd risked the loss of a leg to make sure Eld wouldn't get hurt even after Levi killed the Titan, and who had saved his life even though, at the time, doing so was a great risk to her, because he could put a swift end to the life she'd been trying to build above ground.
She was a good person at heart.  Complicated as hell, still dangerous and a risk, and she had her skeletons, her demons and dark secrets, her flaws...but still, a good person at heart.
He’d been watching her closely long enough to pick up on all of that and then some, even if he’d tucked most of it away for later evaluation considering at the time he was worried it might be a front for some insidious ulterior motive.
And he had to do something to try and mend the relationship they had.  They couldn't function as part of a squad with all this tension and friction, let alone as captain and subordinate, definitely not as a team.  There had to be some level of trust if they were going to be working together in the future, and right now, there was pretty much none, mostly because of him.  And he had to be the one to make a first step towards repairing the damage that he had inflicted so that they could start building at least the groundwork of a working trust in one another.  They would need it when they went out in the field, because all that raw ability meant nothing if they couldn’t function with each other.
Levi scrubbed harder at the stone floor, seeing his fingertips turn pale with the rest of his hands red from the hot soapy water and the pressure he was putting on the brush.
"Captain?"
Levi sighed, leaning back and putting the brush back into the water, turning and lowering the cloth over his face to look over at Petra standing in the doorway with a broom in hand.
"Oluo says he's done with his room, he's just waiting for your inspection," she informed him, though the look on her face was enough to tell him he'd be telling Oluo to do it all over again as soon as he saw it.
"I'll do it when I'm finished," Levi answered, raising the cloth over his face and pulling out the brush to start scrubbing again.  "Tell him to make sure he's finished while he waits."
"Yes, Captain," Petra said with a small nod, turning to leave.
"Has L/N finished with her two rooms?" Levi asked before she could leave entirely, focused on a new spot of stone as he spoke instead of looking up at her.
"Yes, sir.  She actually went outside, out front, to do some extra cleaning while she waited for you to be ready to inspect the rooms."
She was also really good at cleaning.  She had to be, right?  She'd lived below ground longer than he had, and her senses were extra sensitive.  One bad smell must be torture for her, the dust probably setting off her sensitive nose with the slightest buildup, her sight probably making it easier to pick out grime, and her speed making her a faster cleaner than anyone here--when she didn't have to slow down because she was being watched by someone who didn't know what she was.  No wonder she was so damn good at cleaning, why he hadn't found any flaws with it to date.
It almost felt like cheating to him, for some reason.
He pressed unnecessarily hard down on the brush again, feeling the bristles bend and strain slightly in the brush, his fingertips turning pale again.
"Tell her when she's finished with whatever she's doing right now to come up here," Levi told Petra, offering no more explanation as he continued scrubbing at the floor.
“Yes, sir.”
Petra left after that, and Levi focused on the room around him--his third room, mind you, and he was almost done.  His hands were red, a little raw, too, but it wasn’t anything serious.  He just kept getting lost in his thoughts while he was cleaning, and instead of calming down like he normally did when he cleaned, he’d tense up at those moments where he got lost in his thoughts.  He was going over his attempt at a peace offering over and over again, well aware that he wasn’t the best...people person, that communication on a social or emotional level was not his strong suit.  But he was hoping the intention behind the gesture would be clear.  She wasn’t an idiot--she was smart.  There was a decent chance she’d be able to see what he was trying to do.
Hopefully.
Levi was just starting to finish up, finishing with a bit of polish on the metal in the room when L/N finally made her appearance, standing in the doorway with similar cleaning additions to her uniform as him, though she had an apron on that was currently tucked up and into her straps to keep any dirt from falling onto the floor while she walked.
She must have been doing some garden and yard work, then.  Pulling weeds or something like that out front.  At least she wasn’t tracking dirt everywhere, from what he could see--and his eyes were scanning her and her surroundings carefully to make sure she wasn’t about to ruin his hard work.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” she asked formerly, keeping her gaze fixed on him instead of letting it wander around the room at anything other than him.
That was a start, at least.  He’d be worried this entire rebuilding the bridge thing wouldn’t work out well if she couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
But the tension was still there, thick and uncomfortable, enough to put even him on edge.  There was a distance in her posture, a different kind of guarded than when he’d been snooping around and watching her every move.  Like she was hyper-aware of what he was going to think of her moving forward.
He was still coming to a decision about that one, honestly.
“You’re going to start training with me,” Levi said with no lead up, causing her eyebrows to raise in surprise, opening her mouth like she was about to ask questions before she quickly closed it again, since he continued to talk as if her reaction didn’t phase him in the slightest or give him any kind of pause.  “You’ve got some things to work on before the next expedition.  Two lessons a day, sparring and ODM gear.  Make sure you make the time for it.”
“Ah, Captain...I’m not sure if I...should…” she said hesitantly, caught between obeying what was close to a command from her Captain and a reluctance to take him up on the lessons because...what, was the tension that bad for her that she didn’t think she could train with him?  Did she not want to be anywhere near him any more than she already was?  Did she think she would make him uncomfortable?  Did she not like the thought of being alone with him?
That was a viable concern, actually.
Or maybe she just thought there wasn’t anything he could teach her.
On the contrary--she’d said herself that she was having trouble with the ODM gear.  She’d said one of her risks was that she reacted too fast for the gear to keep up with her, sometimes.  That was a problem, especially in a situation where one needed to rely on instincts--how could you rely on instincts while also trying to muffle them to lower to the level of the gear, or nearby people?
She needed help finding the middle ground, or at least training herself to instinctually pace herself so she didn’t outpace the gear in an emergency.  Like she’d pointed out herself, that kind of mistake could be the difference between life and death, even for her.
As for the sparring...well, the only people here that came close to matching their skills was each other.  Who else were they going to spar besides each other?  Besides, it would be refreshing to have someone he could actually go all out on that would be a challenge for him.  He was sure the same applied for her, now that she didn’t have to hold back to keep her secret hidden.
If that had been the reason she’d thrown the fight the first time they’d sparred.
Plus, all that raw strength and speed meant nothing if she didn’t know how to use it.  He could still teach her things, show her some techniques she could use in a fight, that kind of thing.
Is offer to teach her was his way of offering an olive branch to her...and he didn’t take too kindly to her starting to turn down the offer.
Levi narrowed his eyes slightly at her as she continued to cast about for a solid excuse to turn him down.  Most people here would kill for one on one lessons from him--a fact he was well aware of.  Yet here she was, proving just how out of the ordinary she was as she seemed to be beyond just the vampire thing, trying to weasel out of it.  “What?  Don’t think you have anything to learn because you’re so naturally gifted?” he asked in a jab much softer than his accusations during their interrogation.
“No, it’s just…” she started to say with a frustrated sigh, looking over her shoulder like she was looking at someone, even though no one was there.  “Eld’s already giving me ODM gear lessons…”
Was that really it?  He doubted it.  Yes, Eld was teaching her a few things, Levi was aware, but it wasn’t the same as what Levi was offering to teach her.  And it wasn’t a reason to turn him down in the first place.  Just another excuse.  Unless she was really worried about what the others would think if she got not only one daily private lesson with Levi, but two.  As much as Levi was usually of the opinion “To hell what other people think,” this one he could see where she was coming from if it was the case.  She’d just gotten the others to warm up to her despite their grumbling and cold shoulders after the extremely green rookie got sped through all the tape and obstacles right into Levi’s Squad while they put in hard work and were hand picked by Levi after some time in the Scouts after displaying their own strengths and skills over a period of time.  It must have looked like favoritism--and Levi giving her double private lessons wasn’t going to help anything.
It didn’t change the fact that she still needed them or could benefit from them.  And that it was a way for them to start making amends...in a roundabout way.
“ODM techniques.  Special maneuvers:  team and solo, correct?” Levi asked, mostly rhetorically, though she still nodded in confirmation.  Levi moved over to the table he was keeping his cleaning supplies on, starting to pack up his things so he could leave to start doing inspections of everyone’s designated rooms.  “I’m not going to be teaching you what Eld is.  You said you were having problems with reacting too fast for the gear, right?”
Levi spoke pointedly, giving her a sidelong glance so he could gauge her reaction and she could see he was serious about this--and that he didn’t have any ulterior motives.  She didn’t protest again.  She still looked a little uncomfortable, possibly because of the bump this could cause with the others once they found out, maybe because it meant the two of them were going to be spending more time with one another and they were going to have to get over this tension between them really quickly if they didn’t want to end up at each other’s throats trying to kill each other, but she didn’t protest anymore.
“Four a.m. in the woods for hand to hand.  Two hours before dinner on the training grounds for the ODM gear.  Don’t be late,” Levi told her, taking his supplies and leaving her behind in the room as his way of dismissing her.
Now to go yell at Oluo for not getting his cleaning job done properly, most likely.
Tumblr media
Next Chapter---->
(Strikethroughs Couldn’t Be Tagged)
Levi Tags:  @humanitys-hottestsoldier @clary-quinn @sunny-flo​ @whalerus​  @thirstyforsometea
Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse @subtlepjiminie @hakunamatatayqueen​ @queenofcurse @linxiajei17 @levisbebe @toni-jones
112 notes ¡ View notes
thebrochtuarachs ¡ 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
Something in the Rain - “Interruptions”
A/N: I hope you like it. As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.
A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire. 
AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations
XXXXX
“What should I wear tomorrow?” Claire texted Jamie on the eve of their first official date. She wanted to have an extra time to shop should the need there be. 
“What do ye mean?” he replied. 
“I want to dress appropriately to wherever you’re taking me, James Fraser.”
“I see. Smart casual would do. :) Sorry, I dinna thought of informing ye earlier but wouldn’t it be hilarious if you dressed to the nines and we’re going to some sort of cattle farm”
“Exactly.” Claire replied with the eye roll and laughing emoji. “Can I know where we’re going?”
“Don’t ye want to be surprised?” Jamie messaged back and saw three dots typing afterwards. 
“Hmm, thinking about it, yes. I’m excited to see the Jamie Fraser Date Experience.” 
“Hope it doesna disappoint. I, too, am excited to see the Claire Beauchamp Date Experience. ;)” he replied, knowing the use of emoji will make her smile as he rarely uses one.
“I hope it doesn’t disappoint, too.” she replied with a winky face too. “Are you back in Edinburgh?” 
“Just about to arrive home. I might just wash and then hit the sack.” 
“Rest then, Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“Thanks, Sassenach. I’ll message ye tomorrow when I’m on my way” 
----
It has been four weeks since their accidental meeting at the sidewalk. After countless run-ins, lunches, and an absurd amount of consumed soy chicken, the day of their date has arrived. 
When Claire accepted his invitation three days earlier, Jamie went into a slight overdrive trying to plan what to do. He meant to ask her out when he got back - but when he found out that she met Laoghaire, something pushed him to go for it before Claire had any wrong idea about his connection with Mrs. Fitz's granddaughter. 
His first idea was to go all out - book the fanciest rooftop restaurant in the city, get the best chef he knew, and plan a private dinner for them. Fancy and exclusive seemed like a safe choice and a sure hit. 
Then he thought about Claire and all their interactions so far - hole in the wall kitchens, asian street food, very light and casual. Jamie pondered on the idea and realized that jumping from that to an uber private dinner might not be the best, so he kept that card to play for later. 
It was then he decided to just take their casual lunch to a casual dinner. He’ll just exchange one-hour savory chicken meetings for a comfortable, popular city restaurant and longer conversations. He also decided on wearing more casual clothes, opting out of his office suits that she’d seen him often in for a navy turtleneck, khaki pants and white sneakers. 
Arriving at her front door, Jamie took one last stock of himself, suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness, and knocked on her door. 
What he saw next knocked him out. 
Claire opened the door wearing a burgundy sleeveless jumpsuit that was both modest and sexy, yet casual enough. Pairing the ensemble with black heels, the garment hugged Claire’s curves in just the right places that left Jamie staring for a hot minute. 
“Hi” Claire broke through his thoughts and he remembered his manners.
“Hi, Claire. Wow, ye look beautiful” 
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. Going to stop traffic pairing blue on blue like that” 
“Ye ready to go?” 
“Yeah. Are we going to walk?” She asked as she locked the door to her place. 
“Yes, I hope ye dinna mind. Ye live close by all the nice places to eat.” 
“No, I don’t mind and also, very true.” 
It was a short 10-minute walk before they arrived at Howie’s Restaurant. 
“Howie’s. Interesting choice.” Claire commented as they walked to the hostess. 
“We can go somewhere if ye dinna like it here.” Jamie offered. 
“No, I actually quite like it here” she had to stifle a laugh at how adorable she found his tenseness was.
The hostess pointed them to the bar to wait for their table. Claire excused herself to the bathroom and Jamie ordered a light whisky for some liquid courage. 
When the bartender served his drink, a familiar bloke sat beside him and greeted him. 
“Jamie Fraser, hello!” 
Jamie gulped the drink and turned to the man beside him. “Joe! It’s good to see ye, man!” 
The two shook hands and exchanged more pleasantries. 
“I’m actually meeting my wife.” He looked at his watch and then to the front door. “Oh, good, she just arrived!” Joe quickly waved her in and introduced her. 
“Jamie Fraser, meet Gail Abernathy. Gail, Jamie.” he paused when Jamie extended a hand to her. “He was the guy who volunteered at our center two weeks ago. All the kids were just drawn to him.” 
“No wonder.” Gail observed, her comment earning a jokey sigh from her husband. “So, Jamie, what brings you to this side of town on a Saturday evening?” 
Jamie was about to share that he was on a date, but then right on cue, Claire arrives to greet the trio. 
“Hello, everyone!” 
“Claire!” Gail squealed as she gave her friend a tight hug. 
“Lady Jane, you clean up good!” Joe remarked. 
As they finished their greetings, Jamie quietly whispered to Claire to order any drink she’d like. The husband-and-wife duo caught on and couldn’t resist to pry. 
“You guys on a date?” Joe asked frankly. 
“First one, actually.” Jamie replied as Gail raised an eyebrow while Claire returned to his side, drink in tow. 
Joe leaned closer to Jamie and pretended to whisper in his ear, “My date advice is don’t challenge her or don’t allow her to challenge you to a drinking game. You will lose” 
Claire groaned while the rest laughed at her expense. 
Just then, the hostess approached the pairs and told them their tables were ready. They exchanged their goodbyes and were led to their areas. 
 ---
Jamie had been a perfect gentleman. 
He opened her seat, allowed her to order and choose whatever she wanted from the menu (They both went to the steak and fries!), and is making just the right amount of banter. 
Claire actually liked this dining choice - Howie’s comfort food really brought out the easy ambiance and conversation to their date. She didn’t mind going to a fancier place but she knew that if they were there, things would be too formal, delicate and shy. This was much better and she’d Jamie props for this. 
Moreover, what made this official first date a little bit more fun is much of the first date awkwardness is gone. They’ve covered much of the basics about their life during their lunches - their families (both their parents are alive and have retired away from the city, Claire’s an only child while Jamie had an older sister), how they chose their careers and where they went to school (Jamie is Oxford Law while Claire is Cambridge Med, the school rivalry something they joke about), their current or main interests (horses for Jamie, herbs for Claire) and many other things.
So the evening was more or less less a continuation on what they’ve normally done - catching up on their days, sharing an interesting story at work or a photo they found on the web, asking more random questions - the only difference now is, there’s a more clear and intentional purpose for knowing these things and whole lot of shameless flirting in between.  
Forty-five minutes in and halfway through their steak, a man approached their table. “Dr. Beauchamp, it’s nice to see you here!” 
Jamie and Claire looked up and saw a slender man, not much older than they are with grey eyes. 
“Tom, hi!” Claire swallowed a fry and grabbed a cloth to clean her mouth. 
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening but I saw you from the bar and just had to pass by and greet you. I mean at least, this time, not at the hospital or during check ups” 
Claire smiled and made the introductions. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tom Christie, this is Jamie Fraser. Jamie, Tom. He is a teacher at the public elementary school. We met when I did the annual medical checkup for the kids. Also, I’m the peds of his kids, Allan and Malva.” 
The mention of the word kids made Jamie release the tight fist he didn’t know he held beneath the table. He didna like the way the man eyed Claire but it was not his place - not yet at least.
Jamie gave the man a nod but ultimately wished he’d go. When neither said or did anything, Tom said his farewells and confirmed his kids check-up schedule in two weeks. 
---
They decided to share a slice of chocolate cake and one last glass of wine each to cap off their dinner. 
As they waited for their order to arrive, they got startled with a loud noise. 
“Jamie, is that ye?!” one man said.
“Oh, heavens, tis!” another man replied. 
Jamie could not hide the embarrassment he felt as the two blokes approached their table. Once they noticed Claire, they did not waste time introducing themselves. 
“Hello, I havena seen ye before. My name is Angus” the thin, beardly man extended his hand. “And ye are?” 
“Hi, I’m Claire.” she reached out but eyeing Jamie for confirmation that he knew these people. 
“I’m Rupert.” the other man said. “We’re Jamie’s cousins” 
“Distant cousins” Jamie retorted back. “What brings ye here?” he asked while glaring at them to leave. 
“We have a double date” Angus shared, pointing to the table where two ladies were indeed waiting for them. 
“Then I suggest you return to your dates then.” Jamie replied then proceeded to converse with the two men in Gaelic. 
When the conversation was apparently over, Rupert sighed and turned to Claire. “It was nice meeting ye, lass. Please ask Jamie here to bring around one of our office events and meet the rest of the clan. I’m sure they’d love to get to know ye as well.” 
Jamie stood up quickly and had to push the two back to their table before they said anything else that may ruin the evening. 
“I’m sorry about them, Claire. They are quite the more, erm, rowdy members of my family.” he said as he sat down again. 
“It’s alright. They seem really nice” Claire said, smiling. “So, clan huh? Just how big is that family of yours really?” She brought the conversation back up again hoping it would ease his discomfort.
Jamie visibly relaxed and then, they were back in their bubble, “How many generations back?” 
---
Desert went by swimmingly with the chocolate cake and red wine proving to be a winning combo. After an almost three-hour dinner, Jamie asked for the check and insisted on paying for the meal. 
 They were one their way out of the restaurant then Claire was greeted by incoming guests. 
“Dr. Beauchamp!” 
Claire turned to look who called her. “Oh, please call me Claire. It’s nice seeing you here” 
“Likewise. Please call me Meredith.” she quickly signaled to the man beside her. “This is my husband, Derek.” 
“Of course, Dr. Shepherd.” Claire politely acknowledged him with the man insisting to be called casually as well. 
“Anyway, I’d just like to say that I just read your latest paper in the Journal of Pediatrics. I look forward to hearing all about it in your visit to Seattle.”
Claire graciously accepted the complement with a smile and bow. “Thank you. We’ll catch up in Seattle in a few weeks, then.” Remembering her companion, she turned to her back where Jamie was patiently waiting for her. “Oh my, where are my manners. Meredith, Derek, this is Jamie Fraser. Jamie, this is Meredith and Derek Shepherd. They’re visiting doctors from Grey Sloan Memorial in Seattle.” 
Jamie returned the pleasantries and shook hands with the doctors. 
“Alright, I’ll let you guys go on with your evening. Sorry for the sudden call out” Meredith said. 
“It’s no problem at all. A good night to you both as well.” Claire replied as she looked at Jamie and motioned for them to head out. 
--
Once they we're out of the restaurant, Jamie lets out a light laugh. 
“What’s so funny?” she asked. 
“I was just thinking that I’d never unexpectedly run into that many acquaintances in one evening, let alone in a date!” he shared, chuckling more as the thought further sank in his mind and Claire joined him in his mood. “It isna exactly part of the Jamie Fraser Date Experience” 
“I’m really sorry.” 
“Don’t be, there’s nothing to apologize for. I mean, who would’ve thought, right?” Jamie retorted, his humor infectious. 
She was touched by his honesty, not just with the situation but the entire night. He was caring, makes great conversation, and is always authentic with who and how he carries himself. She cannot make a full judgement of his character yet, as that is something she is still getting to know, but she likes what she is seeing so far. 
Taking a bold step, she wrapped her arm around his as they started walking side by side back to her place. 
Jamie looked at her hand, smiled and hoped it conveyed to Claire the joy he felt at the moment. “Is this part of the Claire Beauchamp Date Experience?” he asked nonchalantly. 
“Only to a rare few” she said as she slightly tugged him closer. 
The walk back seemed shorter than the one they did earlier. Before they knew it, they were already standing in front of Claire’s building. 
“Oh, before I forget!” Jamie exclaimed as he fished out his car keys and a grey miata lit up open beside them. He pulled out an exquisite posey bouquet of red roses and handed it to her. “These are for you.” 
Claire took them and smelt it, “The flowers are beautiful” 
“I hope ye had a good time, Sassenach” 
“I had a great time, Jamie. Thank you” 
After a beat, Jamie took a deep breath, gathering strength to what he was about to say next. “Claire, we’ve known each other for about a month now, became unexpected friends in a short amount of time, had our lunches and now, our first date. I hope ye dinna think this is too forward of me but...I like you and I would like to see you again or keep seeing you, I guess.“ They we’re holding each other’s gazes as he laid out his intentions and waited for her reply. 
Claire sighed and was just amazed by him. Her previous encounters are usually with male friends who constantly hang out with her then a few months down, asks her “what they are” as if she had to know or feel that something was happening from the get go. So, Jamie's forthrightness and old-fashionedness was truly refreshing and she was more than willing to give it a go. 
As a final check to their chemistry, she stepped closer, tilted her head and leaned in to him. Quickly responding to her actions, he held her face on one hand and placed the other on her hips to pull her closer. He followed her lead until their lips crashed into each other in a single deep kiss.
In that moment, both Jamie and Claire knew something big shifted in the dynamic of their relationship. 
This was not usual. 
This is different.
And oh so good.
They felt each other smile against their lips just as they pulled apart for air. 
“I like you too, Jamie and yes”
--
A/N: Maybe not the first date you might've thought of but hope you liked it! As always, thank you for reading! Your comments, suggestions, and questions are always welcome. If there's a story or scene you'd like to know, feel free to drop it! :)This was my original idea for the date but as I was writing it, I was going back and forth about scraping the entire thing and think about something else. But the original thought kept developing in my mind so I went back and stuck with it and cross-fingers, hoped it worked and made sense. I knew she had doctor friends but adding the Greys Anatomy characters just came about since I've been binging the show and thought it'd be fun to crossover. Hope you're keeping safe and in line to get vaccinated for the COVID-19 shot! See you all in the next one!
56 notes ¡ View notes
dented-nado ¡ 4 years
Text
Sweet B
Short drabble of Bruce trying to be, what he thinks would be a “better” boyfriend for Clark!
---------------------
It was still baffling to Bruce, even after 2 years of living with Clark, sleeping in the same bed as him, that this sunshine man adored by so many, had somehow ended up being with him of all people.
Bruce didn’t do relationships. It wasn’t that… on a deeper level he craved that kind of closeness with another person, it was that it was just hard. Probably harder for him than most. He had been going to therapy to quite a while now, but he still just struggled with being honest and vulnerable and communicating with his partner.
Clark was always so patient. So, kind. He seemed to understand it took Bruce some time to come around… so he’d wait for him.
But Bruce… Bruce felt like Clark shouldn’t wait for him. Shouldn’t be so patient.
Because he deserved better.
He deserved a partner that knew how to do “the little things” that would make him happy.
A partner that would leap into his arms and kiss him to welcome him home every day.
In short…
Bruce was half terrified of Clark becoming bored or frustrated and leaving him… and hoping on some level that he’d “wake up” realize he could do better and find someone that could be all of that and more.
Bruce loved Clark so much it hurt.
It hurt because he wanted to be so much more than he was. Even if Clark would never ask him to be anything else.
Just because Bruce had stopped actively pushing people away… didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling not to think those things. Think about how those around him would be better off without him in their lives. Would be better off if he hadn’t somehow tricked them into wanting to be around him.
He thought through all these things, as he did often, as he found himself gazing at Clark fast asleep next to him. Bruce felt slightly, quietly soothed at the large arm that was draped across his waist as the larger than life man’s chest rose and fell peacefully.
“I want to give him everything.”
It had been so long where he felt this strongly about someone, to the point where his chest ached and his breathe stuck in his throat. When the occasional thought of Clark not being in his life one way or another crossed his mind, it was enough to make him begin to tear up.
It was bad. He lectured himself for it, but he couldn’t help it.
He adored this man.
He just wished he could show it better.
What did most couples even do? What would Clark like? Could he… pull it off?
 In true Batman fashion, the next day Bruce was quietly forming a plan…. Researching… strategizing…
While Clark was gone and when he wasn’t focused on his typical CEO or Batman business, he was reading article after article, research papers, opinion pieces… he felt a little silly reading extensively about “love languages” and “Cute cuddling and positions to try in bed”… actually he felt ridiculous and wound up deleting his search history every 10 minutes after he fully read through something.
“But this is for Clark.”
He knew Clark had a hopeless romantic in him. The one-time Bruce brought him flowers because that’s what he usually did for second dates, Clark had gone pink in the cheeks and admired them gleefully for a solid 15 minutes gushing about how “I’ve never gotten flowers from somebody before! Now I get it! This is so sweet!”
But knowing that made Bruce even more confused as to why the hell Clark had decided he liked him that way in the first place. He had to be the opposite of romantic.
That was going to change. Starting now. He’d throw down every possible romantic gesture he could.
Then maybe… maybe he’d feel like he was giving Clark back enough for everything that he gave him.
He was about to head down to the Batcave, Clark was about to head off to his monitor duty shift.
Bruce felt a knot in his stomach, but he had made his choice… he was committing to this.
“Clark…” He called out before the man could take off.
“Hmm?”
Bruce approached him, tugged him down slightly by tugging on the part where his cape attached to his suit.
“I’ll… I’ll miss you.” He followed this statement up with a friendly peck on the lips. He really wished he hadn’t stammered, but practice made perfect he supposed.
Clark blinked at him a few times and looked at him quizzically before leaning in and returning the kiss.
“I’ll miss you too B, I’ll see you in the watchtower in a bit.”
“I… look forward to it.” Bruce responded, trying to make a move of straightening Clark’s cape despite it being perfect already.
He read about couples making moves to straighten the others clothing in order to encourage closeness. It was a little awkward however when your partner was in a skintight suit.
Clark gave him a funny look before affectionately moving some of Bruce’s hair out of his face just before disappearing in a blur.
Bruce took stock of how the plan had gone so far on his way down to the cave.
He had been more awkward than he intended, however, Clark seemed to return the gestures, so perhaps this would just take more acclimating to and wasn’t a total flop.
It was joining Clark up in the watchtower before a league meeting, he was dreading the most.
Clark had lamented in past when Bruce had banned any shows of intimacy while they were around other league members, and both were in costume. He had never pushed it though… yet Bruce’s rules were strict to the point of many of the core league members not even knowing they were together as a couple.
Clark had respected those rules, and Bruce had appreciated it… and yet…
He was going to break his own rules. He was going to break his own rules for Clark’s sake.
Still… it was terrifying to him about showing something like that in front of his work colleagues. He envied all the couples that had no problem showing the world how they felt about each other. Even if it looked incredibly sappy and sometimes, he wondered if they were showing off…
Clark would like that, wouldn’t he? To be openly loving and affectionate?
Clark already hid so much of himself… and he was making him hide more…
Bruce shook his head as he made his way into the meeting room. He couldn’t go into beating himself up if he wanted even a chance at pulling this off.
“Spooky has arrived!” Hal announced as usual.
Bruce grunted.
Clark turned to him to make his usual distant acknowledgement of Batman’s presence, only to pause and look incredibly confused as he realized Bruce was making a beeline for him.
“You’ve got this Bruce, just like you practiced.”
He wrapped his arms around Clark’s left arm and stood on his tip toes so he could reach Clark’s cheek and leave a small kiss on it.
“Hi~” He greeted in a very un-Batman way.
He was worried for a second as Clark looked at him in pure shock with slightly pink cheeks.
“Br… Bat… wha…” Clark stammered.
Bruce faltered for a second, heartbeat picking up nervously before he made an attempt to smooth it over.
“I told you I’d miss you.” He slowly unwrapped himself from Clark’s arm, running his right hand along it affectionately before briefly gripping his hand as he pulled away. “Can’t a guy say “hi” to his partner?”
He let go and sat down… slightly proud that he had Clark stammering so much.
“I… uh... but you… um …  h…hi…”
Batman smiled at him, ignoring the rest of the core team looking a mix of bewildered, amused, and slightly terrified.
“Well what do you know… spooky’s heart isn’t made of ice after-all!” Hal said with a big grin because of course he had to comment on it.
“Or maybe it was made of ice, but leave it to Superman to thaw it! That’s so… cute.” Barry added.
Bruce nearly grimaced at the cute comment.
“This is for Clark this is for Clark, do it for Clark.” He told himself, forcing himself to try and smile ‘adoringly’ at his partner, but he was slightly concerned due to the way Clark’s eyes were darting all over his face, it might just look… scary.
A long silence blossomed in the meeting room.
“Uh… not to interrupt the love birds, but you know your leading the meeting today, right big blue?” Hal commented cockily breaking the awkwardness.
“OH, yes of course. I was … just thinking.” Clark cleared his throat, clearly trying to move to act full Superman and not think about what just happened.
Bruce relaxed and followed suit, able to slide easily back into the comfort of the distant cool and logic of Batman and make comments and critiques where appropriate.
When the meeting ended, and everyone began filtering out. He noticed Clark waiting around… probably there were some questions coming.
So, Bruce waited too, and stood to meet Clark as soon as the room fully emptied.
“Soo… what was that about?”
He had freaked him out, the mission might be a failure.
Bruce thought about it and chose his words carefully.
“I decided…that my previous rules about not being “out” in costume in front of the league were no longer necessary.” He paused. “I… perhaps shouldn’t have sprung it on you, I apologize.”
Clark scratched the back of his head. “Well I mean… okay yes, I’m surprised, I’m… happy that you want to be out about it, excited even but” He furrowed his brows in concern. “B… is something else going on?”
Bruce tried to will his heart beating in his chest to calm down because he knew Clark could hear it.
“I… just want to be around you more.” He said vaguely.
This didn’t seem to completely get rid of Clark’s worries, but he sighed and let it go.
“Okay. We can be around each other more.” He said with a soft smile.
“Good.” Bruce said, feeling more awkward than ever.
He reached out and grabbed Clark’s hand, trying to be “romantic” but he realized, it once again just looked awkward as they stood there with stiff arms and locked hands.
“Uh…” Clark looked down at their locked hands. “You want to get lunch?”
Bruce took a deep breath and pulled himself in, so he was once again clinging to Clark’s arm.
“Sure.”
“Hmm…” Clark replied as they began walking to the watchtower cafeteria.
Bruce couldn’t help but notice glances their way as they walked. It had to look weird… Batman clinging to Superman. He tightened his grip in nervousness without meaning to.
“Hey… B, you don’t have to hold on to me if you don’t want to.” Clark said in a calming, hushed voice.
He had noticed he was uncomfortable; he was trying to give Bruce a way out.
But no… he couldn’t stop now; he had already committed to this.
“…I want to.”
Clark didn’t seem convinced at all. “...Okay.”
Bruce was quickly losing confidence. What if he couldn’t pull this off at all, what if, if anything he was just turning Clark off him because he was just so hopelessly bad at being a good partner?
He bit his lip, trying desperately to think of a way to salvage the situation. He spotted a nearby utility closet. That was a trope in romance movies, isn’t it?
Quickly scanning to ensure no one was currently looking he pulled Clark’s arm, opening the utility closet and pulling it open and yanking them both inside, ignoring Clark’s confused stammering.
“Bruce! What...??”
He pulled his cowl off immediately pressed his lips to Clark, practically climbing on him, at this point hoping to force his way out of the horrific awkward feelings he was having.
He stopped when he felt Clark’s hands on his waist gently pushing him away. He parted, face now fully betraying him in showing his nervousness and uncertainty.
“Bruce, what is going on with you?” Clark said, now looking fully worried.
Bruce’s heart sank. Of course, him, trying to act affectionate… it was so unnatural, so transparently bad, he’d already screwed it up.
“Are… are you dying??”
“What?? No!”
Clark looked wide eyed.
“Am I dying?”
“No!” Bruce bit back. “Why would you even think that?”
“You’re just… acting so weird, it makes me think like… you’re worried you’re not going to see me again?? Why else would you be forcing yourself like this??”
Bruce went still and slowly hung his head. He was really this bad, that Clark would think that something bad was happening before thinking Bruce just wanted to show Clark how much he appreciated him?
He wanted to be mad, but he was just sad.
“…I know I’m not a good partner…” Bruce began, trying to will the knot out of his stomach.
“Bruce… what are you…?”
“I have trouble expressing myself, every time I try to feel affectionate, I feel like I’m doing it wrong, so I don’t attempt it half the time. I never let myself get close to someone, so I don’t know how to act. You… you deserve so much more than that.” He rambled, looking down at his feet.
“oh B…” Clark uttered bringing a hand up to Bruce’s cheek.
“I…I want to give you so much, be so much more for you. Other couples make it look so easy, but it’s so stupidly hard for me.” He admitted almost in a whisper. “I thought… maybe if I threw myself in the deep end, out of my comfort zone… maybe I could be the kind of partner that you should have.”
“Bruce, I love you all of you, you don’t need to force yourself to be uncomfortable for my sake.”
Bruce sighed. “I knew you would say that you damn boy scout.”
“Because it’s true. Bruce, I don’t mind that you don’t want to always be open about us being in a relationship, I understand. And I know all of this is harder for you, and that’s okay.”
Bruce went stiff under Clark’s hands that now rested on his shoulders.
“‘Okay’ isn’t enough. Clark… I know you love romance; I know that just because you respect and understand my rules around not being out, doesn’t mean I don’t know that you would still want those things.” Bruce half-snapped. “You… you can’t keep just putting up with things when I’m being selfish!”
“You’re not being selfish Bruce, its not selfish to have boundaries!” Clark said gripping his shoulders tighter and bending down so Bruce was forced to look at him. “Sometimes, yes, I wish I could say how much I love you every of every day. Sometimes, I wish I could say ‘leave my bat alone because he’s actually the sweetest, kindest man I know’ and sometimes I get pissed off when people treat you like you don’t have feelings or aren’t human, yeah, sure. But there’s no point in going around with you on my arm or announcing those things if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m not forcing myself or making myself miserable by not doing that because I’d feel absolutely horrendous if I forced you out in front of everyone when you’re not ready or don’t want it.”
It was now Bruce’s turn to stare at Clark in shock. “But…”
“Besides, your already do a lot to show your affection in your own way. Like… when we’re sleeping how you’ll curl up against me, or how sometimes when we’re both working in the bat-cave you’ll quietly put your hand on my back or hold my hand… or when you’ll give me the sweetest smiles in moments when you think I won’t notice, or how you’ll laugh openly around me…”
Was Clark… swooning? Thinking about him??
“The point is Bruce… you already do all that effortlessly, I think it’s sweet that you’re willing to go to such lengths for me, but you really don’t have to, okay? Especially when its uncomfortable for you.”
Bruce looked over Clark’s face for a second before sighing and leaning forward so his forehead was on his boyfriend’s chest.
“You have a way with words that I envy sometimes.”
Clark chuckled and ran his hand through Bruce’s hair. “Thank you.”
“It wasn’t all bad though…” Bruce said with a quiet smile.
“Oh?”
“It was fun being able to make you all flustered in front of the league… and kind of funny seeing some of the reactions.”
Clark’s chest rumbled as he chuckled. “Well I guess those situations give you the upper hand, so of course you’d enjoy it.”
Bruce joined in on Clark’s chuckle. “It’s true. Maybe that’s the secret formula. There was that one time you were being flirted with by someone you saved that you were being polite as always in turning down and I barely held myself back from kissing you right there as a big “fuck you” to them.”
“You know what, that’s happened to me more than once when you’ve been flirted with or are putting on your “Brucie” show.” Clark admitted.
“We’re hopeless.” Bruce admitted.
“We are. But that’s okay.”
Bruce looked back up at Clark. “But really… Clark… it’s not all forcing myself for your sake, I really… I really do want to get better, learn to be more open again. It’s just… hard.”
Clark kissed the tip of Bruce’s nose, causing it to wrinkle slightly out of Bruce’s control.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day Boo. You don’t have to figure it all out right this second or change on a dime. I know how you are, and how you get frustrated when you can’t get a handle on something right away. But if you really want to be more open, we can slowly try things, but you have to promise to tell me when your uncomfortable.”
Bruce grumbled. “Fine. But you can push me a little more you know… I don’t need to be treated like I’ll fall apart if you hug me in front of green lantern or something…” Bruce gruffed stubbornly.
Clark laughed and pulled Bruce into a hug right there. “Okay okay. It’s a deal.”
Bruce paused. “I did already sort of blow a massive hole in the “slow” thing now that the whole league knows…”
“Well… everyone knows Dinah and Oliver are together and they aren’t clinging onto each other all the time.” Clark pointed out.
Bruce knew it wasn’t Clark’s intention, but now he felt like more of a doofus. He groaned.
“I don’t know how to relationship.” He admitted.
“Well… to be honest, neither do I. Sometimes I wonder how me, an alien, managed to deserve someone like you.” Clark said with a slightly sad smile.
How he deserved him?? Bruce almost felt relieved that Clark had some of the same thoughts, but at the same time he didn’t want Clark to ever think he was unworthy.
“…We need to work on you referring to yourself like “alien” as if it’s a bad thing.”
Clark scratched his neck. “Ingrained habit I guess.”
“You work on stopping doing that and we’ll… both work on reminding each other we’re not unworthy or not good enough to be in each other’s lives.”
Clark’s gaze softened. “Okay... I can do that.”
Bruce moved to re-open the closet door before pausing. “Clark…”
“Yeah?”
Bruce took a deep breath. “I love you”
Despite the closet being dark Bruce knew Clark was beaming at him. “I love you too sweet B!”
210 notes ¡ View notes
thatoneao3writer ¡ 3 years
Note
I am back!!! :DDD
Here is the next part, long overdue.
(I was having a really bad few days and wasn’t feeling as motivated, but I am now feeling re-energized and am back on the writing grind)
Quick recap:
In the end of the last part, Sam got a call about an attack on a bowling alley turned cafe, and the askers hq was attacked, but they managed to freeze the timeline before anything super bad could happen.
This picks up right where the last part leaves off, so you might want to go back and re-read the last few sentences of the last part so that everything lines up and makes sense.
Enjoy!!!
-------------
Everyone scrambled to get out of their seats, Titans rushing to make sure all of their equipment was in place before they received the order to move out. Sam and Tubbo rushed to where Fundy was standing frozen at the front of the room. 5up stood in front of him, trying to get through to him. When they eventually made it to where the couple was standing, they were both on edge.
“Here’s what we need to do,” said Sam, running a hand through his hair in a fit of nerves. “I’ll be going with the rest of the Titans to answer this call. Fundy, take the HIVE and everyone but Phil and Drista to go look around the area that the rip in time showed up. Tubbo. You, Phil, Drista and 5up will stay here and try to decode the ‘prophecy’. Understood?” Everyone nodded. “Alright, let's get going. We meet back at the Titan base as soon as possible. Titans-” he turned to address everyone else in the room. “Titans, with me. Phil and Drista with Tubbo and 5up. Everyone else goes with Fundy.” Everyone moves to stand with their group, Fundy already leaving with his group on their way to downtown Essempei. Phil, Drista, Tubbo and 5up were already crowded around Scotts’ hologram, pointing things out and suggesting certain movements.
“Let's go.” Sam said, determined to get this all resolved quickly.
Unfortunately, it was never meant to be.
-------------
“Alright, men.” Tommy said, the moment the group had left the house, letting the door slam them.
“Mhmmm.” Eret cleared their throat. Tommy balked, eyes wide, looking like he feared for his life.
“Alright, people.” He amended, throwing a terrified glance at an approving Eret. “Fundy. Where are we off to, Big Man?” he asked, running circles around the group as they walked in the general direction of downtown Essempei.
“Calm down and save your energy Tommy. I cannot deal with all of this tonight.” Fundy sighed, rubbing his temples as he quickly checked the train times on his phone. Tommy scoffed, indignant. “The next train leaves in 10 minutes, so we better hurry up.” The scientist glanced around, taking quick stock of the group. Velvet was walking and texting at the same time, Eret and Foolish were chatting lightheartedly, Punz and Purpled were arguing about what to do tomorrow, go to space or go buy the groceries. Ranboo and Tommy were just vibing at the back of the group, and Sapnap and Quackity were whispering together. It was especially odd to only see the two of them. Karl hadn’t shown up at the meeting. Thinking about it, no one had seen Karl for a few weeks. ‘Hopefully he’ll show up soon.’ thought Fundy, fiddling with his phone in his hand to calm his nerves. ‘Karl would probably be able to help out with all of this.’ Fundy turns around to shout. “Everyone! Let’s move a little faster, yeah? We’re going to miss the Train at this rate.” Everyone starts running full speed to the train station. Ranboo vwooped and teleported to the stairs, beating even Tommy who had taken off at top speed. Everyone else laughed lightheartedly, jogging to catch up to the teenagers. Fundy’s phone started ringing, so he looked down.
It was Sam.
-------------
“I have no idea what the fuck is going on Fundy! We got here just as the last of the police officers were clearing out. They just said that a bomb had gone off, but the building was physically undamaged. So we went inside and there was nothing in there but overturned tables, lots of chairs and what seems to be sleeping quarters upstairs, meeting minutes lists all over the place and, and like 300 fucking fridges. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” Sam screamed, clearly stressed. If Fundy didn’t say something quick, Sam might just start trying to pull his hair out.
“Hold on Sam, the train just arrived.” he said, nonchalantly. ‘You fucking idiot. What is wrong with you!?! Hold on Sam, the train just came in, but by all means, continue having a goddamn panic attack.’ He thought to himself, physically face palming as Punz gave him an odd look. Fundy waved him off as they all boarded the train. “Sorry Sam, that was rude of me. You seem stressed. Do me a favour and hand off the phone to Bad to talk to me and go take a few deep breaths, alright?”
“Okay-” Sam said, hesitantly, walking over to where Fundy assumed the demon was standing. “Okay.” Sam said one last time with finality as he handed the phone over to Bad and giving him the simple direction to fill Fundy in and answer all questions to the best of his abilities. Bad looked nervous, but he started talking anyway, bringing the phone into the bowling alley and showcasing some of the things Sam had pointed out. They stayed on the call as the group got off the train, and paraded through the lobby of the skyscraper, climbing the stairs all the way to the roof access door. Niki pushed the door open, letting everyone shuffle through onto the roof, Fundy coming through last, still talking to Bad about why the hell there were 300 fridges in a bowling alley. Luckily, Eret managed to stop him before he ended up with a broken nose. This, however, did not save him from a broken phone.
Because, standing right in front of the group, in a circle around the place where the time rip had appeared, there stood a circle of stone statues that definitely had not been there before. The phone slipped out of his hand.
“What?” Fundy breathed out, confused. “These were not here before.” He walked up to the statues, looking around at all of the figures. Slowly, the members of the group joined him in looking at the statues, bewildered.
“Wait a minute,” Ranboo exhaled, leaning in to get a better look. “I recognize this one, It was haunting me and Tubbo a little while ago at the Bee n’ Boo. I remember. It flew at Michael before disappearing. Nearly gave us both a heart attack.” He lets out a half-hearted, uncomfortable breath of a laugh, looking around uneasily. Slowly, other people started pointing out statues that they recognized.
“Does anyone have a working phone?” Foolish asked. “We should call everyone else, or at least get a picture.” he looked around as everyone sifted through their pockets.
“Here. I have mine.” Sapnap pulled a phone out of his pocket before walking up and snapping a quick picture. “Unfortunately, we can’t call anyone from my phone up here.” He smiles sheepishly. “I have a shit service provider. He lets out a short laugh, trying to ease some of the tension in the air. It didn’t work.
“Alright then,” Punz said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “Let’s get going. I have a really bad feeling about this.” Everyone nods, agreeing as they start to head towards the stairs. Fundy walks along with Sapnap and Quackity as they control the group from the back. Suddenly, Sapnap freezes, sensing a shift in power in the air. He tenses up, pushing the other two through the door while hissing ‘Run.’ before tossing a harried look over his shoulder.
The last thing Fundy see’s is the silhouette of a man laughing maniacally, the sound reverberating down his spine and giving him chills.
‘I’m really hoping that’s not what I think it is.’
-------------
Phil reaches for the ringing phone in his pocket, tuning out the conversation as he leaves the room to accept the call.
“Hello?” he answers, not recognizing the caller ID. Nothing. He tries again. “Hello? Who is this?” Suddenly, there is a cough on the other end of the line.
“Forgive me.” The person answers, clearing their throat. “My name is LLoyd Turner. I’m a colleague of Sam’s. He gave me your number and told me to call you and extend this offer. We want to help out with all of this shit that has been going on today.” Phil leans back against the wall in the hallway, messing with a piece of hair that hangs in front of his face as he listens to the man's offer. When he finishes, he stands up, letting the piece of hair fall back into his face.
“It all sounds good in theory, but we have no idea what the threat truly is at this point in time. I will see what the others have found when they return, and I’ll make sure to let them know about the offer, if they don’t already.” He responds, pacing the narrow hallway.
“Can you tell me-” the man pauses for a moment. “Can you tell me how long we can expect to wait for an answer?”
“Well,” Phil says, thinking. “They only left about 15 minutes ago, so it will probably be another hour and a half to two hours.” He pulls out a pen, letting fall through his fingers just to have something in his hand.
“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.” The man said, letting out a deep breath.
“No, thank you.” Phil responded, putting the pen away in a pocket. “Have a wonderful day.”
“I will.”
Beep
Call ended.
-------------
“Did you get that, men? We have an hour and a half time slot at most. Prepare the team.” People nod, getting to work sending out commands to other stations to deploy the team.
“Bossman has a meeting to attend.”
The man smirks.
“Can’t be late.”
-------------
I hope you enjoyed!!! This part has taken me by far the longest to write XD.
Super exciting, we’re getting into some of the real conflict in this next part. And hopefully(depending on how long I make this next part, the very first desicion could be as soon as this next part.)
Good night :)
(btw, do you guys think I should post this fic on Ao3 as well as sending it in Tumblr?)
YOOOOOOOOO THIS IS POGGERS HAYDEN!!
Also, you should deffo post it in Ao3!
18 notes ¡ View notes
cosmiclatte28 ¡ 3 years
Text
The Four Princes (Reader x Jae, Yong, Yuta, Doie)
I am a sucker for royalty au! 
Here is a short story of you being a kitchen maid who befriends the three young prince and then one day the oldest is also getting to know you. 
note : Jaehyun is the oldest, Taeyong comes next, Yuta, and Doyoung is the maknae. 
It’s the best time of the year, the harvest festival. The King opens the gates and every commoner can attend the banquet the royal family has prepared. This is a joyful time for the town people but definitely not for the workers. Especially you who work in the kitchen.
“And that is everything we have to prepare by dawn! Then after the kingdom has their breakfast, we finish the main course and help serve the foods when the town people start to come in.” the head of cook has called all of the kitchen workers for a briefing. You sigh when you see the list of things you need to do.
“Wash the vegetables, peel the potatoes, chop the onions, great and more to do.” You sigh when you see the never-ending list you need to do.
“We will start this afternoon and then continue after dinner if we’re not done yet.” The captain explains.
You excuse yourself outside the stuffy kitchen and walk for a while in the maids’ quarter, no one is here mostly because they are busy decorating the palace and cooking. You bump into a tall body and almost scream in surprise, but the man was faster, and he clasps your mouth with his gloved hand.
“Your Royal Highness,” you curtseyed before him. “What are you doing here?”
He takes his hand away from your mouth, “My brother and I broke the vase in dad’s library and we’re hiding before he can finish us.” The youngest prince in the kingdom explains.
You nod your head, you know him, he’s the youngest Prince Doyoung and he usually played with you when you were younger.
“Hey (y/n) right?” he asks to make sure he is not talking to another maid. You feel a bit disappointed that he possibly forgot you. Well, he met a lot of pretty princesses on the other days won’t be a surprise if he forgets you.
“Yes Prince Doyoung, it is me the same person you used to play around with when we were 7.” You snickered. He’s known for his wisdom and that is also why he used to finish his classes earlier than his brothers. He used to sneak into the kitchen to taste some of the foods you have to learn to make.
“Sorry it’s just that it’s almost 10 years ago! I am seventeen now!” he laughs when he tries to remember the last time you two met. “I believe our last game was a hide and seek game and you cannot find me!” Doyoung begins to tease you when he remembers exactly what happened.
You roll your eyes, “Yes you were hiding in your parent’s bedroom. Cheating actually since I am not allowed to go there. Then you left! I find you now.” You sarcastically clap your hand “Game over, you surrender yourself to me.”
He laughs, “Yeah whatever. By the way can you please hide me? Tell them you did not see me if they come to look for me.” He looks around and smiles, “Where is your bedroom?”
You shake your head, “I am not hiding you.”
He rolls his eyes, “Please just this one time! I’ll give you everything, please show me where is your room.”
Your ears and his perk up when the sound of the King’s butler resonate along the kitchen. Doyoung’s big eyes widen and you quickly push him into your room. You close it right in time when Lucas, The King’s butler, appears and looks at you.
“Oh (y/n)? Don’t you have task in the kitchen?” he wonders why you are slacking here.
You smile, “Oh Lucas, don’t be so hard on me. I just need to take the vegetables and I’ll be back.”
Lucas bought your lie, “Oh let me go with you, It’s going to be heavy I can help.”
You thank him and after bringing the stocks into the kitchen you ask him, “Why are you in the maids’ quarter?”
He wipes a sweat, “I was told to look for Prince Doyoung, Yuta, and Taeyong. They played soccer inside the castle and broke their father’s favorite antique.” Lucas explains. He has been here since the oldest was born, Jaehyun.
“What about prince Jaehyun?” you ask feeling shy because oh that sweet prince can make everybody’s heart flutter when he smiles.
Lucas scoffs, “He’s the oldest. It’s good to know he doesn’t join his brothers silly act. He was in his room, reading books as usual.”
“Well then I guess I am just holding you back,” you excuse yourself to start working on your task and Lucas also leaves to look for the three brothers.
You shake your head, Doyoung and Yuta are great hiders! Back then Yuta also joined you and Doyoung playing around. Taeyong was just a year older than Yuta but Yuta was two years older than Doyoung and Jaehyun is three years older than Taeyong. They are all blessed with talents and good looks. Prince Jaehyun is known for his warm heart, Prince Taeyong is loved for his kindness, Prince Yuta is the kingdom’s brave warrior and Prince Doyoung is the brain of the four.
You finished washing the vegetables and begin to peel the potatoes. One of the hardest thing to do in your list today.
“Pstt (y/n),” a voice calls for you secretly. You look around, in this corner of the kitchen there are not many people surprisingly. You recognize the voice.
“Prince Yuta?” you ask, and he emerges from behind a tall cupboard, his gummy smile makes your heart flips.
“Lucas is gone.” You calmly continue your hand movements, he looks surprised.
“Oh, you knew?” he walks to your side. “Peeling potatoes can make you know what is happening to me?”
You laugh, “Your brother asked me for help earlier.”
Yuta scoffs, “Doyoung? He asked for help?”
You roll your eyes, “Weren’t you also going to ask for help?” He grins, suddenly feeling shy you can read through him.
“I just need you to bring me to Doyoung and then I’ll find a way out for us.” Yuta pleads.
You shrug your shoulder, “No. You should be a man and admit your fault. Why don’t you Taeyong and Doyoung just accept the fate that you three will be punished for what you did wrong.”
Yuta scratches his head, messing his hair and crown. “You don’t know how scary father is.”
You touch his arm, “I believe he’ll appreciate the honesty and courage the three of you have if you all face him now.”
Yuta looks to the distance, “Well you are right. He’ll respect our bravery but still we might be sent to detention.”
“Your worst detention won’t even last an hour.” You roll your eyes.
A deep voice intrudes and both of you stand in place when the oldest prince snickers, “No, it will last longer.”
“Hey there (y/n), I see you’re still in contact with my brothers.” He calmly paces into the small room.
Yuta is already standing in front of you.
“Hiding Yuta? Aren’t you known for your bravery?” Jaehyun places a hand over his shoulder.
Yuta gulps, “Well…”
Jaehyun cuts him, “What our favorite chef said was right. I’m sure dad will like it better if you three man up and admit your mistake.”
Yuta slumps his shoulder, he is nineteen but why is he discouraged to face his father.
“I know you Yuta, back then when I was just eleven and you were seven, you have the biggest courage to admit what you did wrong. Even me, who was eleven cannot do that but you, my little brother can do that! I want to see that side of you more.”
Yuta looks down on his feet, “I’m sorry.”
Jaehyun nods, “It’s okay… I know ever since mother’s death; Dad was hard on us and I saw all of us are always hiding something from him. I don’t think it is appropriate, what we did.”
You tear up, witnessing the warm deep talk within them.
“You’re right and (y/n) too, thank you for reminding me. I’ll go to dad.” Yuta forces a smile.
You pat his back, “That is more like the Yuta I grew up with! Doyoung is hiding in my room, don’t tell him I told you this!”  
Yuta smirked liking how you spoil Doie’s hiding place. He left after promising you he will help you once he told his dad about the soccer incident.
You’re left alone with Jaehyun, he knows you from his brothers’ stories.
“So, you are the fun famous (y/n),” he leans over one of the counters as you continue peeling skins.
You laugh, “Fun? Yes … Famous? Am I that famous?”
He smirks, “You’re the only girl they talk about. While I was taken to meet princesses, every time we leave a Kingdom the three of them will start comparing them to you.”
You feel surprised with this new information. “Oh that is new. I never hear that. I feel bad for the princesses, getting compared to just an ordinary kitchen maid.”
Jaehyun shakes his head, “No you’re not. You’re more than that! Or else they wouldn’t talk about you with fires in their eyes as if you were their life saviour. But yeah I can say you are their life saviour. At least, I am happy they can have fun in their younger days and you too.”
Jaehyun picks up a potato and out of the blue finds a knife from one of the drawers. “Let me help you, you’re not going to finish if you have to do this alone.”
“No you were not supposed to be here.” You take away his knife, but he was faster, and he takes it back “Let me, it’s an order from your future king.”
You sigh “Thank you.”
He accompanies you and asks about the life of a kitchen maid in this big kingdom. You politely tell him what you like and what you hope the king can improve and Jaehyun’s just nodding while posing opinions to you too.
“Hey, look who’s sent to detention,” another voice breaks the atmosphere.
You and Jaehyun turn your heads to see three young prince all standing side by side on the door with aprons on their bodies.
“Taeyong too?” you are surprised to see that they found Taeyong too.
“Taeyong was hiding in the chicken’s den.” Doyoung nags on him and Jaehyun just hung his jaw.
“You’re right Dad was not mad when we come up and admit we’re wrong.” Yuta speaks up.
“That’s a good news! Then why are you still sent to detention?” you ask them, confused.
Jaehyun hides a mysterious smile when he can kind of guess what happened.  
Doyoung speaks up, “Yuta found me hiding and he made me come with him to find Tae and admit our fault. Dad was mad at first for he was disappointed at our childish act but he lets us free this time because we admitted.”
“Well he said he wouldn’t be so mad if we speak up at first right away and not hide, lucky Lucas did not find us.” Taeyong finally opens his mouth.
You nod, “But what’s with the detention and apron?”
Yuta smiles, “Doyoung said to be fair we need to still get a consequence and Dad was flustered. So I suggested we were sent to help you do some of your task.”
Jaehyun secretly screams in his heart when his guess was right. He guessed this must be their way of spending more time with you. Ever since Doyoung reaches eleven years old, the King made the four of them train for wars, learn about their kingdom, and they do not have more time to play with you. Even when their bodies were inside the class, Jae knew their heads and hearts were in the field running and playing with you. They couldn’t simply go to meet you too on regular days because it’s not comfortable for the other workers. Jae had guessed that if Doyoung is smart, he would find a way to be able to legally spend time with their favorite friend.
“And because I bribed Dad that you are the youngest kitchen chef here, he agreed we help you.” Taeyong proudly smile.
You gasp and can’t express how grateful you feel. “Thank you so much. Now, if we want to finish before your dinner. Please help us cut the onions.” You point to the basket of onions.
Jaehyun laughs when the three of them groans “Seriously?! You want us to cry right?”
Jaehyun gives out his palm and you high-five him
‘Now I know why they love you, you’re fun and smart and just full of surprises. I’m glad I just have to help with the potatoes.” Jaehyun laughs heartily when he sees his brothers bickering on how to cut onions without crying.
You secretly feel happy and no longer sad about this. At least you’re not alone and you want the princes to also know why they should appreciate the harvest banquet. It is a big feast from thousands of hard works and labors, you wish the princes can learn something today and maybe tomorrow explain why the banquet feast for harvest should be respected and appreciated.
They were the four princes of your kingdom, you love them all for their own personalities. They’ll make a great team. Jaehyun can be their king, Doyoung for their monetary section, Taeyong for their humanity section and the brave Yuta on their defence line.
“Thank you, you’ve just brought us back together.” Jaehyun whispers and you look at him confused.
“We were not close after mother is gone. But I am glad to see the three of them hunched together like right now again.” Jaehyun smiles when he sees his younger brothers are enjoying talking to one another as they hold back their tears while cutting onions.
You nod your head, “You’re welcome. That’s the least I can do right? Besides they were also the one making my younger days bright.”
Jaehyun hums, “And if one day you end up with any of them, I’d be more than delighted to give you my blessing.”
You drop your knife and the three young princes look at you who just stared at Jaehyun’s eyes.
“What?” Jae snaps to his brothers.
“Go back to cutting the onions. We have other things to do too.” Jaehyun claps his hand and like magic you shake your head and focus back on doing your stuff.
“Stop making me get heart attacks and having my hopes up.” You stare at your potato.
Jaehyun shrugs his shoulder, “I am just saying this because I am the next king and I can make the rules.”
You secretly smile and want to just thank him for everything including helping you right now. You’re glad you belong to a kingdom who is in good hands.
“Also please come to the banquet tomorrow, I’ll tell the head of chef to give you a free time. You’re reserved a seat beside my brothers.” Jaehyun calmly says this.
Thank you was all you can mutter.
The next day, you’re taken to the kingdom’s dressing place and with the help of the maids, you’re dressed up clean and tidy.
“(Y/N)!!” was all you need to hear from Yuta, Doyoung, and Taeyong for you to know this will be one of your best memories.
88 notes ¡ View notes
lynnsaundersfanfic ¡ 3 years
Text
Grounded, Chapter 10: Dreams
Tumblr media
A Coffee House Fic inspired by a prompt from awesomegreentie.
We started off with a T rating, but who are we kidding here? It’s me. So, the rating has been moved up to M at Chapter 5.
Chapters in Order:  Introductions - Invitation - Stroll - Alchemy - Dayspring - Distraction - Lost - Firelight - Monday - Dreams
Or, read it on fanfiction.net here.
Grounded  |  Chapter Ten: Dreams  |  by Lynn Saunders
The Tuesday before Christmas dawns cold and grey, and John watches the sunrise as he sits before the shop’s hearth with his morning tea, struggling a bit to meet the day. William looks surprised to find him there quite so early after closing so late the evening before, but he doesn’t comment on the matter. They really must hire someone else on, and soon.
Anna’s over a week gone, and John has scarcely slept since she’s been away. He trudges home late in the evenings, tie askew, and sinks onto the couch in his sparsely furnished flat to doze for a few hours before rising early to do it all over again. His split with Vera did not leave him with much in the way of quality furnishings, and what little he did take with him has mostly been used to lend a personal touch to the tasteful rusticity of the coffee house. The little shop is the first thing he’s truly been able to make all his own. But his apartment feels cold, the freshly painted walls stark and bare, and it’s not yet truly a home for him. It’s pale and blank, a new slate that he hasn't yet gotten around to writing on - not like Anna’s flat, which is warm and cheerful and utterly her.
He’s a bit surprised to find that it’s difficult to sleep without Anna snugged in safely against him. He craves her scent and the warm press of her body in the dark. He tosses and turns in the night, restless and brooding. But when sleep does finally find him, he dreams of a faerie with golden hair, her eyes blue as the sea. She awaits him eagerly in a small hothouse in mid-winter, dressed all in white. In the dream, their meetings are secret, and her love for him is certain. This morning, the taste of the dream maiden’s lips had lingered on his even after he awoke feverish and shaky, lost between worlds for a moment and struggling to remember which was real.
The church bell down the street chimes out the hour, and John rises and stretches. He retrieves his mobile from the mantle and sends Anna a photo of the blazing fire, then tucks the phone into his pocket with a small smile. He doesn’t expect her home for a few days yet, but it’s safe to say she hasn’t forgotten him. Two evenings ago, their goodnight phone call had ended with her breathlessly sighing his name.
I was thinking of the other night, he’d said. Of having you against the door.
He’s never been brave enough to give voice to such delicious thoughts before, never had someone so eager to listen. Her response to his secret whispers in the dark was the definition of unforgettable.
He finishes his tea with a smirk, then readies for the day, tying on an apron and washing his hands. He surveys the stock of pastries and resolves to make more fresh cinnamon buns, but it will have to wait until the morning rush dies down. For the next two hours, the bells on the front door jangle consistently.
Business is good. More than good. He feels utterly blessed to have this place, but beyond that he feels a sense of deep pride in his work. Is this what it’s like to love what you do? He realizes with a start that this is the first path he’s truly chosen for himself, rather than one he pursued out of habit, pressure, or obligation. In his old life, he might be tempted to focus on all the work that still looms ahead, or to wait for the other shoe to drop. He would’ve been too hesitant to venture into business ownership, too pessimistic. But more than anything else, being wounded showed him just how fleeting life is. That’s what made him put down the bottle and start living life again. And Anna? He certainly would’ve never imagined that he deserved the company of someone this lovely or, for that matter, someone this kind. Finally, he’s starting to believe.
Anna dreams of John in a different time. They sit at a long table in a bustling room she doesn’t quite recognize, yet she somehow knows it all the same. The room smells of coffee and warm, brown bread. Breakfast china rattles over bits of conversation. Beside her, John is clean-shaven and polished and proper. This image of him stands in stark contrast to what she knows he is capable of in the dark. He gives her a furtive glance, and she attempts to hide her flush behind her teacup. Her delicate wedding band is hidden safely away beneath her frock, nestled against her breastbone on a simple gold chain. Her cup clinks into its saucer, and she brings a hand up to absently trace the outline of the ring through the fabric of her dress. No one can know, not yet. John’s leg presses against hers beneath the table, out of view of the others.
The others?
But the room is gone now, replaced with the glow of a fire and the slip of fine linens against her bare skin. John’s thick fingers glide along her back as she rests, snugged against his chest. She’s long been sated, and now sleep calls. As her eyes drift shut, her mind flashes on the rustling of willow fronds and the taste of fresh cider, of mistletoe on the arch of an old oak door, of the earthy smell of a conservatory in midwinter and the sound of pottery shattering in the dark.
The company car rocks gently as it pulls onto Anna’s street, and her eyes blink open. Her mind fumbles for the thread of that intriguing dream, but the more she reaches for those memories, the further they slip away. John in an old-fashioned waistcoat and sleeves, she thinks with a grin. Something about a greenhouse… and then a feeling - one of bittersweet, quiet, and steadfast love. It is safe and warm, and… familiar? Anna shakes her head with a confused sigh.
The homes on Anna’s street are cheerful, dotted with wreaths and holiday lights. In the west, the sky is painted purple and crimson in the waning daylight. The car pulls to a stop at her door, and she draws the edges of her coat closed before stepping out into the nipping winter air. She’s so looking forward to being in her own flat and her own bed, to seeing her grumpy old three-legged cat… and her hot barista.
She checks her mobile - still no service. Ah, well. When she’d spoken briefly with John last evening, her plans called for staying in London at least another day or two. However, this morning’s presentation had gone surprisingly well, and when Mary spoke of sending Anna home ahead of schedule, she’d jumped at the chance.
The driver hurries around to help her with her bags, and she tips him generously before climbing the short flight of stairs to her apartment. Even with both bags in hand, Anna unlocks the door to her flat with practiced ease. Castle comes running and leaps onto the kitchen counter with a delighted chirp. She scritches him and shakes some crunchies into his bowl.
Tacked to the fridge is a note from Gwen.
I continue to be Castle’s favorite person to torment. The beggar knocked the treat bag off of the counter and ate half. He then vomited in the hall and stared haughtily as I cleaned it up.
XO, G
Castle blinks innocently from the kitchen counter, and Anna gives him a disapproving look. She makes a mental note to take her friend for drinks ASAP to make up for it.
Gwen has left the week’s mail on the countertop, and Anna sorts the contents quickly while she waits for the shower to run hot. She happily sheds her travel clothes and steps under the spray with a relieved sigh, washing the muck of the day away. Oh, but there’s so much to do. She needs to go for groceries and work on the laundry, to put the finishing touches on a project before the firm closes for the holidays. But as she lingers in the steam of the shower, allowing the heat to sink into the delicate muscles of her neck and shoulders, she finds it impossible to care about those mundane tasks. Her mind drifts instead.
She thinks of last week, of John’s long fingers moving between her thighs, patiently coaxing her pleasure. She had melted into his embrace, her slick back pressed to his front, her head lolled against his chest. He had turned her then, lifting her solidly against the chilly shower tile and marking her neck with his lips as he pushed into her. His strong arms held her fast while she sighed his name and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. His teeth had trailed behind her ear just so. She reaches lazily up to press her fingertips to the spot, daydreaming until the water begins to cool.
Yes, all the trappings of everyday life can wait. She has a very particular craving that only one thing can satisfy.
John rushes to open the shop’s door ahead of William, who is carefully balancing three full pastry boxes, their largest order of the day. He steps out to meet the chill of the December evening, and William follows, passing gingerly through the doorway. They work together to arrange the pastry boxes safely in the floorboards of the waiting car.
The customer is Beatrice, one of John’s mother’s friends from church, and she reaches up to pat his arm affectionately. “Thank you, Dear.”
He smiles down at her. “I hope you enjoy them.”
“Oh, the kids will love them!”
She waves to William as he ducks back through the shop’s front door. The neon ‘open’ sign blinks out shortly afterward, and they watch for a moment as William goes about closing duties without having to be asked.
“He’s a hard worker,” John says. “Thank you for sending him my way.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve known his family for ages, and of course with his mother’s passing he needed something closer to home for a while. He’s all his dad has left now.” She shakes her head sadly. “But, I’m so happy you two get on so well. I hear there was a less pleasant fellow working here who has recently moved on.”
John laughs. “Yes, but that’s fine by me. Better the two of us work harder than have a third who rocks the boat. But if you know of anyone else who needs steady work, please send them my way.”
She thinks for a moment. “I may have just the young lady in mind. She’s young and a bit new to church, but she seems reliable. She was such a help with the bake sale.”
He draws a card from the breast pocket of his button-front shirt. “Please have her come by. William and I are managing, but barely. As it is, he needs a large bonus… and a holiday.”
She chuckles, then takes a conspiratorial step closer. “Now, let me hear all about this Anna. Margaret tells me you two are quite the item.”
John gives a somewhat embarrassed chuckle. His mother definitely cannot be prevailed upon to keep any secrets. “Yes, I suppose we are.”
“You suppose?” She tsks with mock disapproval. “Well don’t you be shy. Bring her ‘round to see us for tea soon.”
He gives a vague promise, and John waves as Beatrice pulls away from the curb. As the taillights fade in the distance, he takes a moment to stand still, to close his eyes and simply breathe in the icy air. There’s been no new snow today, but there’s still a satisfying icy crunch underfoot, and he remembers his first stroll home with Anna, the first brush of her lips against his cheek. That was only two weeks ago, yet somehow this thing between them feels both ancient and new.
It’s a bit odd that he hasn’t heard from her today, and it dawns on him that he’s not been the least bit concerned about what that uncharacteristic lack of contact means for their burgeoning relationship. In the past, he’s had what Vera would have called a jealous streak. But underneath that superficial explanation was truly only worry, a deep-seated fear that he won’t measure up, that he’s undeserving. But he feels none of that with Anna. Everything between them has come so naturally.
He takes one more moment to enjoy the quiet solitude of the winter evening, then turns to help William close up for the night. But he doesn’t quite reach the door. His breath is caught in his throat, and for a moment he stops and stares, blinking in delighted disbelief. Anna. The streetlamps catch her golden hair even through the frozen haze of the December evening. She’s supposed to be miles away, yet here she is on his street instead, making her way toward him with a very particular look in her eye. He sees warmth reflected there, mischief, and an intoxicating, velvety undercurrent of desire. He catches her up in an embrace, and she giggles as he lifts her off of her feet. God, he wants so badly to be the one who inspires that sound from now on. He breathes her in, feels the thrill of it deep in his chest, then remembers himself and returns her gently to the ground.
“Why didn’t you say you were coming?” he asks with a grin.
“I didn’t know until today.” Her eyes dance as she reaches up to straighten his tie. “That, and my mobile has been out of service all afternoon. But… I’ve brought you something that may make up for it.”
At his quizzical look, she reaches into her coat pocket and brings out a sprig of mistletoe, twirling it in her fingers for a moment, raising an eyebrow. He tugs her close in response, kissing her gently in the arch of the shop doorway until she begins to shiver in his arms. Later, as he sifts his fingers through her hair in her bedroom in the dark, she’ll tell him she wasn’t cold, not exactly. It’s the intensity of his touch that’s making her tremble. But he doesn’t know that now, and he ushers her quickly into the cheerful warmth of the coffee house. Muted sounds from the kitchen radio filter down the hall, and he can hear the clinking of silverware as William washes the dishes. He presses another soft kiss to her lips before locking the door and pulling the shades in turn.
“I need to-” he begins, but she places a gentle hand on his chest with a nod.
“Finish your work.” She smiles up at him. “I’ll still be here.”
He brings the back of her hand to his lips for a moment, then turns to join William in the kitchen. Together, the men make quick work of the evening chores. Soon the dishes are dried and the countertops gleam once more. William finishes the mopping while John reviews the checklist for tomorrow, smiling at the sheer volume of holiday orders.
As he pulls on his coat to leave, William glances down the hall toward Anna, then gives John a nod of decided approval. “It’s good to see you happy, Mr. Bates.”
John clears his throat a bit self-consciously, but he’s touched. “I think I am, truly… for the first time in a long while.” He pauses just a moment before adding, “now, run on home. We’ve another early day tomorrow.”
“You two don’t stay up too late,” William says with a wink as he pulls his cap down snug over his brow and disappears through the shop’s rear door.
John only laughs and shakes his head in response.
When he returns to the front room with a cup of cocoa to share, Anna is warming herself by the waning coals of the banked fire. The shop lights are low, and the sight of her silhouetted in the amber glow of the stone fireplace tugs at a quiet, yearning place deep within him. Anna just feels so… familiar, his mind echoes. It’s as if they’ve spent countless evenings sharing a hearth and a bed, perhaps across times and places he will never know or understand, but always - always - with the same indescribable current arcing between them.
She smiles up at him as he passes her the mug, and he eases onto the sofa, drawing her near. She takes a sip and gives a satisfied hum that makes the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. They watch the embers pop and spark for a moment as the kitchen radio plays on in the distance.
“How was London?” He presses a kiss to her temple.
“Good, actually.” She takes another sip of cocoa and passes him the mug. “Well, more than good, I think. It might mean a promotion.”
“Well done!” He squeezes her hand with genuine affection and pride, then adds cheekily, “Will you have a corner office, then?”
“No…” She grins up at him. “And nothing’s decided yet, but… on that topic, there is a favor I need to ask you.”
“Oh yes?”
“You see, there’s this company holiday party. Fancy dress and all that, and I’ll be needing a date…”
“Dancing and cocktails and a suit?”
“Well, probably not dancing… but the rest of it, yes.”
“No dancing? Pity, that.”
“I expect you’ll be relieved.” She taps his chest playfully with the back of her hand, and he realizes she thinks he’s joking.
He imagines Anna in a low-cut gown, his fingers gliding along the curve of her back as they savor the anonymity of a darkened dance floor. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
John smiles conspiratorially and moves their shared mug to the safety of the little coffee table. He rises carefully, then pulls Anna gently to her feet. She smiles shyly at him as he takes her hand and leads her down the shop’s hallway in the dark. The familiar rooms are bathed in shadows, and she clings to his hand like a lifeline. In the kitchen, he pauses to adjust the volume on the little radio, filling the room with the mellow, rolling notes of a jazz piano.
“Come here,” he says, his voice rough and low.
She giggles as he pulls her easily into his embrace, and they sway together in the dark, his right hand perfectly fitted to the small of her back. Thank goodness for heels, she thinks dreamily. Moving together this way, she’s just tall enough to rest her forehead against his broad chest. He tucks her hair behind her ear and tips her chin up to meet him, stooping to graze her lips with his. His large hands slide beneath the hem of her sweater, blazing a path up the curve of her spine. She hums happily, and she feels his answering smile against her temple.
She finds the quiet confidence in his touch intoxicating. She’s enamored with the pleasing stoutness of his body, the thickness of his chest and shoulders, the way he gazes at her so intently as they move together. She’s never been this easily turned on, this revved up. She’s fallen hard and fast, no question, but this thought doesn’t alarm her. Instead, she feels emboldened by her desire. When she rises on tiptoe to kiss him, he tastes not just of cinnamon and chocolate, but of something deeper and richer, a comforting memory she cannot place. And as the song begins to fade, they hold fast to one another, lighting a fire between them as they dance together in the dark.
Author’s notes:
I’ve not written in a long while. I worry it shows. Thank you for being patient while I knock the rust off.
Anna and Bates dance to Turn Me On by Nora Jones.
Thanks to @awesomegreentie and @gelana78 for quick-beta!
12 notes ¡ View notes
whatdoesshedotothem ¡ 3 years
Text
Saturday 1 August 1835
6 25
11 20
No kiss. At my desk at 7 25 at which hour F65° and fine morning - at George’s account and settled with Turner for stones and to come again tonight with estimate for stones for the tail goit - then breakfast at 8 50 - meant to have been off to Halifax to the District bank but Greenwood came convenient enough - I wanted to speak to him about sawyers etc but he came to speak about the letting Nelson have the Northgate house job - poor G- in a nervous agony about it - could scarce speak - damp cold pallor over his face - almost in tears - it was unfairly let  - Helm’s the lower estate and it was to go to the lowest - Helm a very honest man - should have his Greenwoods buildings without estimate - it was not he (Helm) who said anything against me - no ! he said perhaps it was for the best - ‘I had been over-seen’ but I had told him  I might have other building to do and I should not forget him - G- hoped I should excuse his coming to tell me - it was for my interest - ‘they’  (the town I suppose) might oppose me - might oppose my getting a licence - I had done wrong - I heard him very quietly then said what I had done could not be altered now - but I had done right according to my own judgment and conscience and if the town could act so unjustly as to oppose me, they might - if I could not get a licence I had immediately change my plan, and trouble myself very little about it - I wished Mr Harper to decide but he declined doing so, and I had therefore decided as I had told Brian Helm in a moment as  every might and ought to do in a case like this where right principle was the only guide  - I had taken the lower estimate - the case Mr Harper said was singular - yes! but I thought it clear - the price given for the old materials had nothing to do with the estimate of the work - I had a right to do as I liked about the materials - N-‘s estimate of the work was the lower by about £3.15.0 I believed and I had taken - when G- heard the price of the old materials he said he himself would have given £200 for them - if, said I, I had known that in time you should have had them - these were mine to do as I liked with - on hearing my explanation and seeing me so clam yet decided, G- began gradually to cool and said the thing was misrepresented - it only wanted explaining - I told him what I had said both to Nelson and Helm - adding that after the inquiry I had made, it certainly appeared to me that N- was the more experience person - BH owned he had never done any columns - à la longue - G-
SH:7/ML/E/18/0072
became reconciled and talked what he could do if he did set up the Inn - I mentioned his wife’s remark that they might as well put a stick into the house as herself and that G- had as many irons in the fire as he could cool - he said well! but he was master - yes! but said I, she must be mistress or it will not do -‘well! but she does not say so much to me’ - perhaps said I she might be fearful of speaking so plainly before you - however you must judge as well as you can - he said people asked if he would ruin Carr - no! he answered he would say all he could for him to me; but if he C- did not get it, it was another thing - well! said I, I will exonerate you on this point - you have already said enough to save your credit if you never say anymore - but I have not said C- shall have it - he has made no application to me - what have to expect from such a character? Remember the trick he played me about the manure - besides, his immorality is a disgrace - G- said yes! it was and he was very domineering and disagreeable - then inquired about the Hope coach - said I was going to London - bade G- take the 4 inside places and one outside for Monday morning to Sheffield if he could - ordered about hat-bore lined with coarse flannel to be sent home tonight - spoke about Charles H- G- said 2 1/2d. per yard in length would be enough for sawing up rails and settling them - the oaks-logs to remain where they are till my return and then go to Greenwoods to be cut up - G- thinks the Inn will pay me 7 ½ pc. in ten years - on going out found Wheatley the veterinary surgeon come to look at A-‘s pony - something of a splent and liquid blister should be applied - said I was satisfied to find him of my own opinion - George to call tonight for stuff and directions - W- agreed with me, it would be well to let the pony be from 8 to 9 am and from 6 to 7 pm in the paddock, and this would save the trouble of walking her above and would answer much better - then desired W- to examine the old mare – her jole already affected - thinks her not that bad enough to infect the other horses, but she ought to be kept apart - better to put her out of the way - then with my father and Marian - spoke about the mare - my father said nothing against it, but seemed hurt - perhaps it will be best to put the mare away and say no more about it - then had Mr Husband who brought the plans of the water wheel etc from Mr Harper - told  Mr Husband merely to make me out an account of Charles H-‘s work done on  Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and in fact this week, and keep an account of what more he did during my absence - said I had spoke to him this morning he was now gone about wood and making a sluice for Spiggs loose a job  which the coal agent would settle about - Reminded Mr Husband that he was in a situation where 100 eyes would be upon him, he must do the best he could and his best plan would be to consult no interest but that of his employer - if there was the least rent to be found, it would be torn from top to bottom - I was anxious for him to be cautious - I said this in consequence of what G- told me - in his agony, he said, he admired Helm who had acted quite independently and never gone near Husband who had said in his G-‘s presence 3 times, and he G- would swear to it and had once thought of telling Mr Harper last night that he (Mr H-) could put £500 into any mason’s pocket and G- thought that very strong and improper language - yes! said I and very wrong and imprudent - I shall not forget it - but if there is anything to be laid against him it must be proved and then he will be off at a tangent - well, said G-, but he  shall be watched - I thanked G- said I should be much obliged to him to keep a sharp look-out, and only advised him to do it as quietly as possible - Perhaps G- had some interest in being for BH-? I shall ponder these things - I am more and more persuaded that the choice of N- was right G- said at last, he had no doubt, he could get a licence - no! no! the house will be licensed - I told G- if he meant to set it up, he had better say nothing and go and consult Gunter in London as to the manner of setting out tables etc G- having said he had seen as much of this sort of thing as Carr, and could buy in horses as well, but did not so well understand coaching -  Having G-  Wheatley and Husband for 3 or 4 minutes and writing the whole so far of today took me till 2 5 - then counting over the money to take to the bank   A- in bad humour about something and copying old parchments again  so I kept aloof   A- off on her pony to Cliff hill at 3 - I wrote and sent John off immediately with note to ‘Messrs. Rawson, Bankers, Halifax’ enclosing to Mr R- fifty pounds in Bank of England ‘on account of the new museum, making the amount of her subscription paid on that account £150’ - a little while talking to Marian and then at 3 ½ off to Halifax down the old bank to the Yorkshire District bank - asked what they would charge upon remitting £100 to London - answer 5/. i.e. 1/4p.c. their usual mode of doing business - to those who have an account with them they give and take 4p.c. and charge ¼ p.c. on all on business done - all bills paid whether in London or elsewhere but that ¼ p.c. includes postage and everything - said I had found fault at another bank with the charge of ¼ p.c. on remittances to London - I would consider about it  - walked off up the street round into Waterhouse street - doubted when opposite the Join stock whether to see what I could do with Mr Carr - then remembered Marian’s telling me her friend was one of the managers to whom all my concerns must be known - turned back to the Yorkshire District bank - asked to be shewn into their private room and opened an account with them leaving £1800 in Bank of England  20s.10.and 5s. and gave Mr. Rawson’s £5 for an order for £4.10.0 payable to ‘George Buckle Esquire’ (on a sheet of letter paper - in payment of his bill for the copies of wills for A- received this morning per parcel) -  returned up the old bank by Whiskam road to where Robert S- and his man Joseph Sharpe were gas-tarring the railing that parts off the new field road - left orders for all the gas-tarring to be done and the railing between Carr and my father to be done over again (i.e. 2nd time) and then if any time to spare during my absence Park-farm wood the little seedling oaks to have the grass cut from around them for 4 or 5 inches breadth and hedges to be cleaned - passed Walker pit - nobody there- sometime in Conery wood - saw A- returned about 5 ¼ - Mark Town came to me in the approach road - I see he would be glad to take the purchase of the cottage himself and said if George N-‘s farm was to sell Mr Ackroyd’s manager Mr Ingham would advance him (Mark) money to pay for it with - told him to make up
SH:7/ML/E/18/0073
 his mind to leave things as already agreed upon - I would take the cottage and do what he wanted he remembering his own proposal to pay me 1/. in the pound on all laid out - I wanted no better agreement - Had Charles H- also in the approach road - told him to saw up and set double railing round Mytholm dam, and to guard the trees in the Wheat field and in George R-‘s upper daisy bank, and enlarge 2 or 3 of the guards in Carr’s Shibden Land but 1st to get the Spiggs Loose shuttle done, and his work should be examined and reckoned upon on my return - told him to put up notice against hunters and trespassers in such places and as many as he thought would be best and enough, the printed notices being left with my aunt - paid Charles H- and Robert Schofield up tonight, and gave the latter £2 on a/c of walling done along the ft. of Bairstow - Dinner at 6 ½ - coffee - A- went upstairs I to my father and Marian for ¼ hour - said A- had a headache - It was bad humour did not like sometimes going from home with me and sometimes not   very different from what she expected   I could not at first guess what she meant   on explanation after coming up from my father she did not like my not taking her to Richmond Park but leaving her to call on or rather spend the day with Mrs Plowes   I explained affectionately and calmly  she cried and said she knew I should think it nothing and only turn  it against her as I had done two or three times before   she thought the sooner we parted the better   I said my greatest and first wish was her happiness if I could not make her happy I only hoped someone else might succeed better etc etc   very kind and affectionate said were I in her place I should not like being taken  as it were  to be looked [at]  I thought it bad taste but it should be as she liked  oh no but she had expected very different  something led to my recalling my expression about old Mrs Saltmarshe that perhaps it might be in her power to introduce Catherine Rawson then  said A- you should not not have claimed powers you did not possess  I reminded her of my saying I hoped to succeed but if I could not my failure would be better than many people’s success   but if left to do my own way I did not despair - she by and by came round  kissed me etc.   I took all well but thinking to myself    there is danger in the first mention  the first thought that it is possible for us to part   time will shew  I shall try to be prepared for whatever may happen 25 minutes with my aunt till 10 20 - very fine day F69° at 10 20 pm
6 notes ¡ View notes
bitchesofostwick ¡ 3 years
Text
boba kisses
i wrote something short and sweet for OC kiss week! this is featuring ellinor and @cullenvhenan​‘s OC caridad <3 ily ellie and happy valentine’s day!
***
“We need to talk,” Ellinor huffs as soon as Avery opens the door to their shared apartment. She crosses her arms—not that she needs to; the tone in her voice alone has him raising his eyebrows and throwing his hands up in feigned defense.
He kicks the door closed behind him and tosses his keys into the dish on the counter. “What did I do this time?”
She narrows her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “Pastry delivery this morning.”
He knows what she means. She can tell. Because he goes from being defensive to being completely and utterly pleased with himself, a shit-eating grin spreading over his face before he even answers.
This was all his fucking plan, she thinks.
Earlier that day, she’d gone in for her shift at the cafe—her one opening shift of the week, because she’d probably die if she did more than that. Clocked in. Started brewing the coffees, grinding the espresso. At 6 a.m. sharp, the back door buzzer sounded—Avery, she’d figured, here to deliver the daily pastry and bagel order from the bakery across the street. The bakery Caridad Lacanilao owned. Caridad’s bakery. The bakery owned by Caridad, who Avery worked for. Caridad, she thought wistfully before shaking her head abruptly. Avery always delivered the pastries in the morning, and he always gave her shit if she didn’t let him in quickly. So she wiped her hands off on the apron loosely tied over her flannel top, flipped off the coffee grinder, and headed out for the back door.
And when she’d opened it, it was not Avery, but Caridad Lacanilao standing there.
“That was not cool!” she huffs to Avery, still crossing her arms. “You were supposed to—I didn’t know—I wasn’t expecting—”
“Calm down!” He smirks at her. It’s infuriating. “I thought you’d be glad to know that it was her idea.”
She sputters. “Her—what?”
“Yeah. I’d already boxed up the pastries and stuff, and I was about to head out when she told me to start getting the baguettes in the oven. Which she usually does herself. So she definitely just wanted to go flirt with you.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.
Of course he does. This is all just hilarious to him.
“Well she didn’t,” Ellinor grumbles. “Flirt with me, I mean.”
“Come on, Ell—”
“I’m serious! There was no flirting! I opened the fucking door and she was like ‘hi,’ and I said ‘oh.’” She throws her hands up in the air. “Literally just ‘oh.’ Like an idiot. I couldn’t make this up.”
“It’s not like you guys haven’t had normal conversations before.” Sensing that she’s no longer...hostile...he kicks his shoes off and hangs his jacket on the hook by the door.
Shr shrugs. “I know. But it takes...so long to get to that point. I always say something dumb or awkward. Like ‘oh.’ And she’s probably like, ‘I have so many better things I could be doing than talking to this loser’—”
“She would never think that.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I work with her?” he says. “And she’s always asking how you’re doing or talking about how she might go across the street for a latte if the shop gets slow.”
Ellinor perks up. “Really?”
“Yes!” Avery says, rolling his eyes. “Seriously. You guys are so weird about this whole thing, I don’t know why you can’t just see that the other is interested—”
“She’s not interested!” she insists. “I mean, not like...not like that. I’m sure she’s just like, ‘oh, that’s Ellinor, my employees sister, who I could definitely see as a friend but nothing more than’—”
“Stop putting words in her mouth, Ell.” He sighs, flopping down on the couch. “You’re just speculating because you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. I saw her this morning.”
“Yeah, and from the little bit that you told me, it seems like that went just great.”
She doesn’t even bother telling him about how she could barely get her words straight when she offered Caridad a coffee, or about how she literally dropped two bagels on the floor by accident stocking the pastry case while said coffee was brewing and Caridad was standing idly waiting for it.
“It was. Fine.”
“Look at me.”
“No,” she mumbles, but he won’t relent.
“Ell. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re really okay with just seeing Caridad a couple times a week at the cafe or bakery or maybe when all three of us hang out.”
She tilts her head back and forth indecisively, and Avery sighs.
“One of you has to make a move eventually.”
“Well it’s not going to be me,” she says decisively, tossing her phone onto the coffee table before heading into the bathroom.
Deep breaths, Ellinor, she thinks, closing the door behind her. It’s not like her to get so flustered about anything, really, but Caridad was another story. She splashes some water on her face and pats a towel over her cheeks, taking one final deep breath before emerging.
“You good?” Avery snorts, and she rolls her eyes at him.
“I’m fine.” She sits down next to him on the sofa, picking up her phone from where she’d left it only to find a text waiting for her on her lock screen.
Caridad
Yeah, that would be cool
She almost drops her phone from how quickly she tries to swipe it open. “What the…” Inside is a text from her that was very obviously not written by her.
Hi Caridad! Avery told me you’re taking the day off tomorrow. I’m off too! Would you want to get boba together?
“Avery,” she breathes.
“Mmhmmmm?”
“What have you done?”
“You said you weren’t going to make a move. So I made a move for you.”
“Avery—”
“I know you’re off tomorrow. And I know you didn’t have any plans. But now you do!”
“I’m going to kill you,” she says, her heart racing. “I’m going to—oh my god, I have to tell her I can’t. This was a mistake.”
“But she already said yes!”
Oh my god. She said yes.
She groans and falls back into the couch cushions. “Fuck. You’re right.”
***
She stands outside the boba shop, shifting her weight from foot to foot. This was a bad idea. Caridad isn’t even here yet. Granted, she made sure to get to the boba shop exactly 15 minutes early. She even woke up early for this. She’d agreed to meet with Caridad at 1, but she woke up at 10, showered, changed into ripped denim shorts with tights and about eight different flannel shirts before deciding on a red one. And she put on makeup for this. And a matching red knit beanie. And all of that only took until 11. Which means she had two extra hours to pace around her apartment anxiously before heading out.
She’d hung out with Caridad alone only two times before this, and both were months ago. The first time was one night when they’d happened to close the cafe and bakery at the same time and ran into each other in the street, and Caridad mentioned that she was going to go get ramen, and Ellinor had stupidly said oh, me too! She was not, in fact, going to go get ramen after work. Or at least, she wasn’t until her brain decided to make up something stupid just to be able to hang out with Caridad. But Caridad had said oh, we could um. Go together. So it worked. In a way. And they got ramen. And it was awkward at first, but after a few glasses of sake it was decidedly less awkward, and they ended up staying and chatting until the restaurant was closing. The other time, they’d planned to go see a movie with Avery only for Avery to bail at the last minute. Ellinor hadn’t thought much of it then (she sure does now), but she and Caridad had gone together anyway. And it was nice. And their fingers had brushed together every time they’d reached for popcorn at the same time, which was...several times. And after the movie, they’d walked the long way home. Neither of them suggested it. But their feet seemed to carry them blocks away from the more direct route to their neighborhood, and they’d chatted together in the quiet street-lit sidewalks until finally it seemed like the only place left to go was home.
But anyway. Both of those times were months ago, and even though Ellinor had been convinced that they could’ve had something then, she’s all but lost hope by now. And yet thanks to Avery, here she was, standing outside the boba shop looking like an idiot waiting for Caridad.
That’s if she doesn’t end up deciding this is a bad idea.
“Ellinor?”
She turns sharply only to find her standing there, and for a second, she doesn’t even know what to say.
These days, if she sees her at all, it’s usually in her standard baker’s jacket and black pants, black hair tied back into a bun or ponytail. Not this time. Today, Caridad is dressed in ripped gray skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder red top, her hair loose and long and flowing past her bare shoulders. Oh good, she wore makeup too, Ellinor thinks, noting Caridad’s cherry red lipstick and smokey eye combination. It would’ve been weird if only I wore… She shakes her head. Stop being stupid. Say something.
“Hey,” she says nervously. “Uh. Our red shirts match.”
Caridad flashes an awkward smile. “Ha. Yeah. They do.”
You fucking idiot, Ellinor, she thinks.
They stare at each other until another customer steps out of the boba shop and walks right between them out onto the sidewalk.
“Oh. Right.” Ellinor opens the door for them. “Uh. After you.”
Caridad steps inside, her heeled boots clicking gently on the floor. “What are you going to get?” she asks her, and Ellinor blushes.
“Oolong.”
“Oh! Yeah. Me too.”
Ellinor’s eyes widen.
“It’s my favorite,” Caridad clarifies.
“Yeah, me too.”
She manages to order her tea without making too much of an embarrassment of herself, and they make their way out of the shop.
“Do you want to go to the park?” Caridad asks quickly. “I mean, unless you wanted to go somewhere else. I don’t care.”
“No! The park is—the park would be nice.”
With her heels on, Caridad is only just taller than Ellinor. She glances at her shyly as they walk together. We’re probably the same height, she figures, because from where she stands, she can see the way her cheeks redden in the early spring cold, and the way her eyelashes flutter when she catches Ellinor looking at her.
Oops.
The park is surprisingly quiet when they arrive. They sip their boba in silence, walking around the gardens and the fountains that had only just thawed from the winter weather.
“Wait…” Ellinor says suddenly, looking around.
Caridad stops. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I mean. This is where...isn’t this where we walked around after the movies, that one time?”
If Caridad’s face was flushed before, it’s really red now. “Oh,” she says hurriedly. “Yeah. I guess so.”
I guess so.
Ellinor’s heart sinks. It probably doesn’t matter as much to her. “Yeah, I only just remembered. That was. Uh. Fun.”
“Yeah,” Caridad mumbles. “It was.”
Despite her discouragement, Avery’s voice rings in her ears. One of you has to make a move eventually.
Ugh. He’s right, even if she wouldn’t admit it to his face. And if she doesn’t say something now, she’ll probably regret it.
Definitely regret it.
“Hey, Caridad.”
Her eyes snap up from where she’d been looking at her boots, meeting Ellinor’s gaze. “Yeah?”
“What...um. What happened, after that night?” She swallows. “I mean, I thought we’d had a really nice time. I’d hoped that maybe we could’ve hung out again sometime, but I—well, maybe it’s me, I was too scared to ask you, but I did think it was fun and I sort of wished we’d hung out again but you never said anything so I sort of assumed you probably did want to but I did want to and...oh fuck, now I’m babbling, and—”
“You did?” Caridad asks in a small voice.
“Did what?” Ellinor squeaks.
“You—you did want to hang out with me again?”
“W-well—yeah! I mean. Yeah, I did. I just didn’t think you were interested because you’re so. Cool. And stuff. But I thought...that we’d really had fun that night. And—”
“So did I.”
“You...oh.” Ellinor says nervously. “You did.”
“Yeah. It was really nice.”
Ellinor takes a deep breath, considering this. “So, did you...suggest coming to the park on purpose?”
Caridad looks back downward. “Yeah.”
Oh.
She looks up. “Caridad.”
“Yes?”
Clutching her boba in her hands, she takes a single step closer to her, tilts her head up, and kisses her cheek.
“Oh,” Caridad whispers, and she looks into Ellinor’s eyes, blushing, surprised, but smiling. Just a little.
But a little is enough.
The next time Ellinor leans in, she meets her lips in a full kiss, soft and careful and tasting like sweetened oolong tea. Ellinor wonders if her red lipstick will rub off on her. She hopes it does.
“That was…” she breathes when Caridad pulls away. “Nice.”
Caridad smiles, bringing the straw from her boba to her mouth. “It was nice.”
11 notes ¡ View notes
nubnubblr ¡ 3 years
Text
If You Do. 32 Handcuff Hideaway
THEA
         "Do you have any classes for the next hour or so?" I asked Shawn. Everyone recovered quickly but there was still concern in their expressions that Mackenzie was going to walk back through that door and Shawn's world would fall apart.
"Nope," he shrugged taking a huge bite out of a burger.
"Does that mean you want to be my knight in sweaty armour?"
"That's gross," Charlie pulled a face.
"Where do you want to go?" Shawn ignored her comment.
"I want to do some shopping," I smiled sweetly.
"But you're crippled," Junsun smirked.
"The correct term is disabled and that never stops you," I retorted.
"How am I disabled?" he frowned.
"You're disabled in the brain," I huffed.
"I think that's referred to as being 'on the spectrum'" Austin commented.
"Fine, I'll go with you shopping," Shawn nodded devouring the rest of his meal.
"You're ditching me?" Charlie frowned.
"No, Doobin said he was having trouble remembering your choreo on top of the other classes he's taking, I figured you were going to help him out and that would have left me stuck here," I sent her a slight smirk.
"He doesn't need my help," she gave me a warning look.
"Actually, some help would be great," Doobin nodded.
"Seriously?" she asked in a flat tone.
"I mean if you don't want to, I'll just go ask one of the other students," he shrugged.
"Oh, come on, throw the kid a bone," Austin sided with Doobin. I had to cough to cover the laugh that almost burst from my throat.
"Fine, but you better pay attention because I'm not doing this again," she huffed.
"Right," but Doobin and I mumble together.
CHARLIE
         I knew that he didn't want me to help with the choreography, he could do it in his sleep. But I wasn't going to boost his ego any more than it already was.
"So what part of the choreo is confusing your little brain?" I sighed following him into an empty practice room.
We have a few around the building, they were just small 5x3 meatre rooms with a mirror covering one wall and a door, there were no window and the rooms where soundproof so that several students could practise at the same time without disturbing or being disturbed by anyone. The doors also had locks on them, convenient.
"Why don't we start with something you know isn't small?"
"You're attitude?" I raised an eyebrow.
He just smirked, let out a slight laugh, then his face turned dark with lust, he took a step towards me and instinctively I took one back leaving me pressed up against the wall, with nowhere to go. His lips connected with my neck and a small moan escaped my lips, I felt his smirk on my neck before he relocated his mouth to mine. I wanted to curse myself for giving in so easily but the logic in my brain evaporated the longer Doobin's lips assaulted mine.
"If you want me to stop just say so," his husky voice whispered inside my ear. I didn't trust my voice so I just didn't say anything, he waited a few moments before taking my silence as permission to continue.
I was lost in my train of thought as we slid to the floor, he stretched my hands over my head with one hand, logic slammed back into me when I felt the cold metal clamp around my wrists.
"What are you doing?" I frowned.
"Having a little fun,"
"What if someone tries to come in?"
"The door is locked, and the room is soundproof. But if you want me to unlock you then that's fine, just thought it would be fun," he shrugged.
I don't know why, and I wasn't even sure when I had decided it would be fine, but the words seemed to fall from my mouth before my brain had the chance to run them through a logic filter. Instead of saying what I should have said, being the responsible adult and his teacher, I said;
"Leave them on,"
BM
         I wanted to throw everything, I had to step away from my desk so that I didn't throw anything breakable or important. I was trying to function on barley any sleep, Austin has stolen so much money that I wasn't able to give a lot of shifts out to my staff and I even had to let a few go. They were understanding about the whole situation, but not being able to use my staff meant that I had to cover the shifts. Thea still came in and worked the kitchen, but she didn't say anything to me, she just showed up, did her job, and left. So my day usually went; up at 3 a.m, work at the bakery until 6a.m, come home and get a few hours sleep, usually 3 or 4, then wake up but no later than 10 a.m, set up the bar, re-stock the shelves, do ordering, open, serve customers until closing at 1a.m, clean the bar, maybe eat something, quick shower, sleep for an hour, and repeat.
So, I was overworked, overtired, understaffed, and severely stressed. I had been to the bank about a loan, but they felt like I was too much of a risk, I had reported Austin to the police, but I wasn't hopeful about getting my money back, I should probably talk to one of the boys about it because I know they would help out in the bar but they hadn't been home since I slept with Olivia, it was pretty clear they know about it, also I vaguely remembered hearing Charlie's voice.
I'd been feeling guilty about that since it happened, not just because of her technically being Sam's girl-whatever, or because it was Jae's bed, or even the whole Thea situation. Don't get me wrong, I felt bad about all of that, but I had also realised that I had kind of been seeing Somin, and I mean, we weren't dating per say but it's not okay to show someone that you're interested in them and the go and slept with someone else. That's not the type of person I am, but I haven't really been acting like myself lately.
Pushing my friends away, keeping secrets, sleeping with strangers, getting angry for no reason. Okay, not for no reason, but in from the point of view from everyone else it is for not reason because I haven't told them what's going on.
Maybe I should just sell my car.
THEA
         "I still don't understand why you haven't already done your Christmas shopping," Shawn frowned at me as we made our way back to the dance studio. We had been gone about an hour and a half, long enough for Mackenzie to be long gone, and for Charlie and Doobin to have finished, 'dancing'.
"I have most of it done, shut up, like you have any Christmas shopping done," I huffed defensively.
"I only have to buy for a handful of people, and I'm not Miss Overly Organised, which is why I'm surprised that you're Christmas shopping wasn't don't in like July," he retorted.
Okay, it was actually already done, but in September, not July. I just needed a reason to get Shawn to stay out shopping when he was insisting on my getting off my foot. Besides I found some things that I just had to buy for Charlie.
"Maybe you should have used this time to do your Christmas shopping,"
"I still have time,"
"Christmas is in like 8,"
"Yeah, that's 8 days full of time to buy things,"
"When there is nothing left in the shopping centres that qualifies as good gifts, you'll regret waiting," I shook my head at him.
"It's the thought that counts," he tried to counter,
"And apparently they're the last thought," I retorted.
"Has anyone ever told you that they can only handle you in small doses?" he huffed at me.
"All the time," I nodded as we walked into 1Million, well technically I hobbled but I wasn't about to admit that.
"Shit. I have a class in 10 minutes," Shawn groaned.
"I thought you said you were free?"
"I forgot about it, I'll catch up to you later," he rushed off.
I looked around for Charlie, she didn't seem to be anywhere maybe she was still with Doobin? Her car was still out the front, and she wouldn't leave me here anyway. She had to be with Doobin, I should probably find them before Shawn stubbled across them.
"You're back," Doobin nodded towards me, he was standing in the doorway of one of the classrooms. I looked around him to see if Charlie was in there. She wasn't.
"Yeah, have you see Charlie?"
"I have," he smirked.
"Okay, stupid question. Do you know where she is?"
"Of course," he nodded still smirking.
"Well are you going to tell me?" I sighed.
"She's in that room," he nodded towards one of the practise rooms.
"Thank you,"
"Thea," he called as I turned away from him.
"What?"
"You might need these," he handed me a set of small keys.
"These look too small to unlock the door," I thought out loud.
"They're not for the door," he smirked, I frowned and began to ask him what they were for but he turned and walked into the classroom, that Shawn was teaching.
I headed over to the door he had pointed towards turned the handle, but it was locked. I thought he had said that the key wasn't for the door. I knocked just in case I had the wrong door. Then realised that the rooms were sound proof so I wasn't sure she would even hear it, so I rattled the handle.
CHARLIE
         The door handle turned and shook, if whoever was on the other side was calling me, I couldn't hear them, the downside to a soundproof room. Did I risk opening the door to see if it was Doobin with the keys? What if it was one of the other boys? How did I explain being naked and handcuffed in a practice room? I didn't. Which left me with no other option but to wait until Doobin decided to come and save me. Even though he is the reason that I'm stuck in this situation to begin with.
My phone started buzzing in my pants pocket on the floor. I maneuverer my way towards them and somehow managed to answer the call, only because it was Thea. I hit the loudspeaker button.
"Hey,"
"Hey, opened the door,"
"Why?"
"Because Doobin gave me a key and said that you would need it,"
"Where is he?"
"In Shawn's class,"
"And where is everyone else?"
"How am I supposed to know?"
"So, if I open the door, you're the only one out there?"
"Well, other than the reception staff but they're all busy. Why are you being weird?"
"Okay, I'm unlocking the door, but hurry up," I sighed working my way to my feet. I unlocked the door and quickly ducked behind it just in case anyone looked over to see what Thea was up too.
"Why are you being so weir..." Thea started at me.
"Close the door!" I snapped.
She pushed it closed and tried to cover a laugh with a cough. May have actually worked, if she didn't just laugh instead.
"What?" was all she could manage to get out between laughs.
"Shut up and give me the keys," I snapped.
"And you think you're going to be able to unlock those cuffs by yourself?" she raised an eyebrow once she stopped laughing, although she still managed to chuckle at me.
"Yes," I cursed the doubt that found its way into my voice.
"Do you want me to uncuff you?" she giggled.
"I want you to stop being a jerk, but I guess I'll take the uncuffing," I sighed, she held her laughter until I said uncuffing, for some reason she found that hysterical.
"Thea!"
"Oh, wait, I have the perfect thing for you!" she beamed.
"Like the keys to these cuffs?"
"Yeah, yeah, in a second," she rolled her eyes rummaging through the bags in her hands.
"Bro, I'm literally standing here naked," I was starting to get a little annoyed.
"Yeah, I know, I'm about to fix that,"
"You could just give me the damn keys and I could get dressed!"
"Yeah, but that wouldn't be nearly as entertaining. Ah! Here it is," she smirked pulling a jacket from one of her bags.
"I have clothes over there,"
"Yeah, but this works sooo much better, I saw this in a shop and had to buy it for you, because you're technically Doobin's professor, I got you a professor jacket, with elbow pads!" she unfolded the grey checked jacket, brown patched covered the elbows.
"I hate you, now uncuff me,"
"Argh, fine," she rolled her eyes.
THEA
         I uncuffed her and she basically kicked me out of the practice room, she's so touchy sometimes. I watched Shawn's dance class through the glass door. Doobin seemed pretty pleased with himself, he caught my eye through the door and smirked at me, I suppose that the fact I was the only other person who knew about the two gave him a small kick, considering that he could basically brag about it with one look.
"Let's go," Charlie came out of the
SAM
         "I want food," Jae whined lounging across the edge of the couch.
"Then go get something," I shrugged.
"Are you kidding me? The last time I took food out of that crazy dwarfs kitchen she withheld food from me for like a week,"
"It was an hour, and that's because you were so annoying she didn't want to listen to you anymore,"
"Yeah, well, it felt like a week,"
"Then order something,"
"That takes too long to get here, and it costs money,"
"You can wait until she gets home,"
"Can you message them and see how long they're going to be?"
"Why can't you do it?"
"Because I don't know where my phone is," he whined
"You're literally staring at it,"
"Shh, busy," he muttered scrolling through Tumblr.
SAM: Hey, where are you guys? Jae is complaining he's hungry and I'm worried he is going to eat me.
I wasn't expecting her to reply so quickly but she replied before I could relock my phone.
CHARLIE: Just waiting for Thea to get her braces off, not sure how long it will take.
"Charlie doesn't know how long she is going to be,"
"They went shopping, how much can two poor girls even buy?" he huffed.
"They're at the dentist, Thea is getting her braces off," I rolled my eyes. He paused, looked at me and smirked.
"Come on," he stood up.
"What?"
"We'll go get food, Thea is going to be in so much pain when she gets back," he beamed.
"You don't need to sound so happy about it," I frowned.
"Yes, I do. Do you know how easy it is to annoy her when she's in pain, and then she does that thing where she get huffy and hurts herself, it's hilarious, but I'll even buy her food to make up for it,"
"Really?" I looked at him sceptically.
"I mean, you'll pay for it because I lost my wallet, but sure," he shrugged.
"Of course, you did," I rolled my eyes.
"I think I left it next to or on my bed, so it may as well be lost, who knows what naked parts of BM have touched that," he shuttered.
"Okay fine," I sighed.
"Keys," he held his hand out.
"Why?"
"Because you still can't drive? Do you think I'm going to walk there and like go into the building with those people?"
"Those people? Who are also going to buy fast food because their too lazy to cook for themselves?"
"If you were supposed to cook for yourself they wouldn't have invented cars and drive throughs, are you going to mope around here daydreaming about Charlie or are you going to come on this adventure with me?"
"We're going on an adventure?"
"It's modern-day hunting, come on Samwise," he stood.
"Does that make you Frodo?" I raised an eyebrow following him.
"I feel more like a Gandalf, wise and magical,"
"More like Radagast," I commented.
"Charlie likes him better anyway," he shrugged.
CHARLIE
         The boys weren't there when we got home, or at least Sam's car wasn't and he still can't drive so unless Jae decided to go out and take Sam's car, which wasn't likely.
"I thought the boys were staying again?" Thea frowned.
"Maybe they went to get a change of clothes," I shrugged.
"Hopefully they don't come back, the last thing I need right now is Jae and his stupid face,"
"Are you sure you two don't have a thing for each other?" I raised an eyebrow.
"If by 'a thing' you mean do I want to stab him with a sword? Then yes, but if you mean in the general sense, then I would rather stab myself with a sword," she pulled a disgusted face.
"You two just seem really interested in where each other are," I shrugged.
"I am in enough pain right now; do you have to make me want to vomit as well?" she sighed.
"Shouldn't you be pain-free after having your braces off?"
"You would think so, after two years with the pressure moving my teeth you would think the release would be amazing, not painful,"
"Then again, it's been two years of pressure, what happens when you release the pressure after you hurt yourself?"
"Intense pain," she groaned collapsing into the couch.
"There are painkillers in the kitchen, do you want me to get them?"
"I'll get them, hot coffee might help with the pain," she sighed.
"Alright,"
"Do you want water in the kettle?" she asked.
"I'm good," I shook my head.
She just nodded leaving the room, I checked my messages to see if Sam and sent one letting me know where he had gone, he hadn't.
CHARLIE: Hey, where are you guys?
SAM: Jae decided he would have me buy us food, he thought it would be entertaining to get things Thea can't eat and eat it in front of her.
CHARLIE: Forget his wallet again?
SAM: Apparently he lost it
CHARLIE: I bet you it's in his pocket
"Where are these painkillers?" Thea asked, she walked into the lounge room pulling the door with her.
"On the shelf about the kettle,"
"They're not," she shook her head.
"Maybe they're in my bedroom," I got up, she turned around to leave the room, the door handle wouldn't turn.
"Not funny," I frowned at her.
"Not kidding," she frowned back.
"Seriously?"
"I must have hit the lock on the way in,"
"You locked us in the lounge room?"
"I mean not if your bedroom window isn't locked," I thought about it, I had locked it a few nights ago, there was a breeze that came into my room and the window only stayed securely closed if it was locked.
"Is yours?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Paranoid," she pointed at herself.
"So you locked us in the lounge room," I sighed.
"I mean only technically, we can just call one of the boys to come to save us," she shrugged.
"Jae and Sam only went to get food, they'll be back soon,"
"See, we're fine," she shrugged again.
"I'll text Sam and ask them to hurry up,"
SAM
         CHARLIE: Hey, can you guys be quick, Thea locked us in the lounge room
"We don't need anything else?" I asked as Jae pulled out of the parking lot.
"No, why? Do you miss Charlie already?"
"No, the girls are locked in the lounge room, Charlie wants us to come save them,"
"How did they...?" he because.
"Thea," I cut him off.
"Of course," he shook his head.
"Well, let's go to the Zoo then," he smirked, which probably meant he wasn't going to save them straight away.
"The Zoo?"
"Their lounge room is basically entirely windows, which means we can eat and enjoy the show,"
"Charlie will kill you,"
"Probably," he shrugged not seeming too phased by the idea.
3 notes ¡ View notes
slippinmickeys ¡ 4 years
Text
Of The Eight Winds - Part 4
This is part three in who knows how many from the prompt from @sunflowerseedsandscience : “Mulder is unhappily married when Scully is partnered with him, and while he doesn’t cheat (because sorry that’s not romantic), he falls for her so hard that he finally gets the courage to end the marriage and start fresh.”
Links to parts one, two and three.
1
He was 26 when she met him, rarefied New England stock. She could smell the old money on him, but what grabbed her at first were his eyes. Mossy green with flecks of brown one minute, straight hazel the next. His jaw was just on this side of square, his brown locks thick and he was cut with the harmony of a Canova sculpture.
She had just graduated from Georgetown and was out celebrating with friends. He was on a rare evening off with other cadets from the academy and she played just hard enough to get.
She sparred with him over politics and art history, gave him his space and fucked him like a port wench. The months flew by.
With his lost baby sister and broken home, he was putty in her hands; addicted to her drama, which she knew when to rein in. Both of his parents loved her--she was the daughter they’d barely had. He asked her to marry him the week he graduated.
The carats were sufficient, her mother was thrilled. Another box checked by 24.
2
Their first year or two of marriage had been good, she thought. She was hired on at Schuster & McClure and started bringing home a decent salary. He was mostly a peon at the FBI, and was home every night by 6, the weekends were theirs.
He took her antiquing, apple picking, because that’s what she thought you were supposed to do.
Thanksgiving with her parents, Christmas with his mom, New Years with his dad.
It wasn’t until he started with the Behavioral Sciences Unit that things started to glitch. He’d work cases where he didn’t come home until after 10:00pm and worked through the weekends. His mood was dark, he frequently didn’t want sex. When brunch with their friends was on the schedule, she went alone.
She didn’t handle it well. She knew she didn’t. She should have been supportive but was frequently petulant. He started staying at work late even when he didn’t have a case.
She got promoted twice, started taking out clients. She got nicer clothes, nicer shoes, better haircuts. He barely noticed. She’d stay out later, he didn’t care. He seemed perpetually in a dark place.
She started doing things she knew would piss him off just to get his attention. Nothing worked.
A week after she cheated on him for the first time, he came home early, said he wanted to talk to her about something. Her gut roiled and she poured herself a drink, then a second. She was certain he knew.
Then he smiled at her, told her about files he had found in the basement of the Hoover Building, unsolved cases, weird cases, cases with no earthly explanation. His excitement was contagious. She asked questions, told him he should go for it, see if he could get the assignment.
They made love that night for the first time in six weeks.
She swore to herself she’d never cheat on him again.
3
It started to feel like the X-Files was the other woman. He was obsessed with his work, and she felt lonely. Her oath to fidelity did not take.
One night he came home, upset, and once again, she thought she’d been caught.
This time, however, it was because his unit had been assigned another agent.
“That’s great!” she said, feeling guilty and overcompensating with enthusiasm, “that means they’re taking you and your work seriously!”
He gave her a pitying look. She hated his pity. It made her feel stupid.
“No,” he said, “it means they’re sending someone down to spy on me.” He was directing his foul mood at her and talking down to her in the process.
“Don’t do that,” she said, “I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Condescend. You’re pissed off and you’re taking it out on me.”
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t expecting him to relent, it made her feel off balance.
“What if you asked for a reassignment? Did something different?”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Do you even know what I do? Why I do it?”
It felt like a trap. She generally tuned out when he talked about work. He sounded ridiculous and it made her look ridiculous, too. Every time one of their friends — of which there were fewer and fewer these days —asked about his job, she changed the subject, steered the conversation to something-anything else.
When she didn’t answer right away, he leaned back.
“Of course you don’t,” he said.
She felt the poison of anger tip into her bloodstream.
“What do you want me say? ‘I’m sorry you’re being spied on at work?’ Do you know how crazy and paranoid that sounds? Are you listening to yourself?”
“Am I listening, Lauren?” he said, his voice low and dark, “I’m the only one in this house that does.”
With that, he grabbed his wallet and keys, slammed the door behind him.
She called Peter and told him to come over. They had only ever met at hotels before.
In some ways, Fox wasn’t paranoid enough, she thought with satisfaction, with disgust.
4
She had been operating on the assumption that Special Agent Scully was a man for the better part of 5 months when Fox finally dropped a pronoun.
“Wait, she?” Lauren said. “What do you mean she?”
“For fuck’s sake,” he said, “you could give a shit about my career. Why take an interest now?”
They picked fights now, that’s all they did.
“Are you fucking her?”
She knew she said the wrong thing the second the words were out of her mouth. She’d only wanted to hurt him.
He ground his teeth, closed his eyes. The veins on his temples throbbed visibly beneath his skin. He took a deep breath.
“No, Lauren,” he said, his voice as cold as ice, “I’m not you.”
5
She dropped by the Hoover building early on his birthday to take him to lunch. She pretended she’d misremembered the time she was supposed to meet him and took the elevator down to his office. She’d only been there one other time.
This woman, this ‘Scully’, didn’t seem like a threat, for which she was grateful. The woman was short, had a pretty face, but a bit of baby fat through her cheeks. Apparently she was a doctor, but dressed like a stand-in on Murphy Brown.  
While at lunch she’d ordered a glass of champagne. She felt like celebrating.
6
Something happened at the FBI. He was reassigned. He wouldn’t tell her much. She tried to make it up to him--introduced him to one of her clients, Senator Matheson, who had shown interest in her husband’s work.
He came home at normal hours for a while, but was distant. Closed off.
He flew to Puerto Rico for a long weekend without even fucking telling her.
Then she got a call from him--his former partner, the Scully woman, had been kidnapped from her apartment. He wasn’t sure when he’d be home, but he was working the case and would call her. She heard nothing.
She saw him briefly on the news, called him over and over, but he never picked up his phone.
He walked through the door after being gone for days with his hand in a cast. She asked him what happened, but he didn’t talk, just stripped to his boxers and went to bed.
In the morning, she made him her famous waffles and gave him his space. He kissed her before he left for work that day, but only on the forehead. They had not spoken a word.
7
They found a new normal that lasted a couple years. He had the job he wanted back, working with his partner, Scully. She loved her job, thrived on it, started spending most of her time at the office or out with clients. They didn’t see each other much and found that if they didn’t see each other, they didn’t fight.
He was gone more often than he wasn’t.
Her mother got sick with cancer, fought for months. Fox was supportive, attentive, but still a bit distant. She took whatever she could get. When her mother died, Fox picked her up at the hospital, called her father, made all the arrangements.
She needed to get away, so she asked him to take her to Mexico for her 30th birthday. He couldn’t make it work, but suggested she take a few friends with her and really do it up right.
Everyone but Amy made it -- she was eight months pregnant. They got absolutely bombed on their first night at the resort--someone had thought it a good idea to mix Dos Equis with Tequila (“beergaritas, Lauren!”) and they only found out April was pregnant when she was walking around getting everyone water, her drink sitting untouched on the balcony.
They talked about their jobs, their husbands, and everyone seemed so blissfully happy. Lauren felt like she was missing something. At 1:00am she slunk into one of the bedrooms and called Fox. She didn’t remember exactly what she said.
When April’s husband met them at the airport when they landed at Dulles, he had eyes only for his wife and caressed her stomach before he even kissed her. He carried her bags and treated her like fine china.
When Lauren got home, she told Fox she wanted to have a baby. She felt something like hope when he told her they could talk about it. “Not right now,” he’d said, “but we can talk about it.”
8
When he asked her for a divorce a couple weeks later, she was so taken aback, she asked him to repeat himself.
“I can’t do this anymore, Lauren,” he’d said, “I want a divorce.”
His eyes were full of sympathy and she hated him for it.
She threw words at him, objects, anything she thought might hurt him like he was hurting her. That fucking baseball--she hated baseball--the antique compass from his fucking partner--the one that got put on the shelf next to their wedding picture. Slurs, tears, things--she threw them all.
He took it, he took her words, he absorbed her tears. And then he picked up the compass and he walked away.
His things were gone from the condo two weeks later.
9
After court, she didn’t see him for almost two years. He was with his partner, Scully.
She’d been leaving a restaurant in Old Town Alexandria, had met a few friends for lunch on a Saturday, when she saw them walking by.
She’d been about to raise her hand in greeting and say hello when Fox reached for Scully’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. Lauren froze in her tracks.
He had a lightness about him she hadn’t seen in years, and the way he was looking at Scully--who had learned how to dress since Lauren saw her last and looked nothing short of stunning--he had never looked at her like that. He practically glowed from within. Scully returned his look with an easy affection.
They continued walking, now hand-in-hand, and Lauren felt something that wasn’t quite jealousy. She thought she could be glad for him. Someday.
10
One year later, she finally sought him out.
He agreed to meet her by the carousel on the National Mall on a bright Saturday morning in summer.
He was there when she arrived, sitting on a bench, gently pushing a navy blue stroller back and forth in a rocking motion.
She approached him.
“Fox,” she said, her voice low and quiet in deference to the maybe-sleeping child.
He looked up in surprise and she gave him a small, expectant smile.
“It’s okay,” he said to her in normal voice, smiling back, “she’s out.”
Lauren felt a genuine smile break out on her face.
“You’re a dad,” she said sweetly.
“Yeah,” Fox replied, appearing almost as surprised as she was. “She’s four months old, now.”
“What’s her name?” Lauren asked, sitting down next to him.
“Lily,” he said.
She nodded, tried to peek at the baby, who was mostly covered in a light blanket.
She leaned back and looked at him.
“How are you, Fox?”
“I’m good,” he said, “really good.”
“I’m glad,” she said, and found she was.
“And you?” he asked.
“I’m good,” she answered. “How are your parents?”
“Same as always,” he said. “How’s your dad?”
“Dad’s good,” she said on a laugh, “he moved to Arizona, and is quite the hot ticket at the retirement community.”
Fox laughed.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.
There was a comfortable silence for a few moments. The carousel music filled the air, punctuated by the occasional laugh of a child. A group of Chinese tourists walked past them, cameras out.
She reached in her pocket, pulled out a small pouch.
“Here,” she said, “this is yours.”
He opened the pouch, shook it out into his hand. His grandmother’s three-diamond ring fell onto his palm, 2.5 carats of antique beauty.
He looked at it, flipped it over in his hand.
“Lauren,” he finally said, moving his hand toward her, to give it back, “I gave this to you.”
She reached out and closed his hand around the ring.
“And I’m giving it back,” she said.
He opened his mouth to protest and she nodded at the stroller.
“Give it to Scully,” she said gently, “or save it for Lily,” his eyes rose to meet hers and she knew she was making the right decision, “it never really belonged to me.” She tapped her finger gently on his chest above his heart, “And neither did this.”
After a moment he nodded gently, opened up his hand to look again at the ring.
Then the baby started making noises and the moment was over. He gathered up the small child and brought her up to rest against his shoulder.
“Almost time to find Mom for lunch,” he said.
Lauren rose from the bench and bent forward to look fondly at the baby. She had bright blue intelligent eyes and wispy apricot hair.
She reached out and touched a finger to the baby’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Lily,” she said, then ran a finger one last time down his raspy jaw. “Be well, Fox.”
He hoisted the baby up and nodded at her.
“Be well, Lauren.”
Lauren turned from them both and slowly made her way home.
127 notes ¡ View notes
pyrewrites ¡ 4 years
Text
Thirteen Days
Entry number 2 into the @bechloe-week Weekley Bechloe mini-challenge. This for the prompt ‘quarantine’.
Ao3
Thirteen Days
It was only day 6 of lockdown but LA already had a death toll. The rising count statewide was actually what finally got the state government to act. It was scary as hell but Chloe was in lockdown with her favorite person in the entire world. Her roommate, up and coming musician, and the girl she had been in love with for nearly a decade, Beca Mitchell.
Chloe suspected that she would have been in a much worse state of mind if not for Beca. Chloe was suffering from information overload on a near-daily basis before lunch. Beca had on more than one occasion hidden both of their phones and laptops behind the locked door to what had originally been designated as Chloe's bedroom but quickly became a guestroom/Beca's home studio space, and removed the batteries from all the remotes except for the blu-ray player that had Netflix to keep Chloe from looking up any more doom and gloom. And Chloe was grateful. Yesterday had been especially bad. Chloe had come across a pair of reports of deaths that blew a hole the size of the 405 in the claims that 'only the elderly and immunocompromised had to worry'. The first was a college athlete without a single health problem. He was the same age Chloe had been the day she met Beca. The second was a 13-year-old girl. She had spent hours curled up in Beca's arms alternating between crying and having panic attacks as the reality of the situation set in. Beca had run a marathon of Disney movies in their shared bedroom the whole rest of the day until Chloe had drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Chloe was making a sizable breakfast of all of Beca's favorites to bring her in bed to thank her for everything she did the day before. She glanced at the clock figuring she had enough time to finish before Beca woke up. She had just finished plating the food and was turning to the fridge to get the orange juice when her entire world stopped at the sound of a violent coughing fit coming from the bedroom. Her mind immediately flashed back to the last time they had gone to the store to stock up when the rumors of the lockdown started getting serious. The store had been packed. Despite all the talk of social distancing, Chloe would have been shocked if there was a total of six feet of open space in the entire store. That had been a week before the lockdown order had been given. Thirteen days ago.
Chloe sprinted to the bedroom. She slammed the door open to find Beca doubled over, still coughing. The covers on the bed had been kicked away from her body. Her face was flushed, which could have been attributed to the coughing fit. But the sheen of sweat over every inch of exposed skin Chloe could see was not the fault of coughing.
“Oh god no,” Chloe whispered. She rushed forward nearly jumping onto the bed. “Beca!”
Her coughing continued. She tried to speak only to cough again before she could form any coherent words. Chloe placed a hand on Beca's forehead only to yank it away from her burning skin. Chloe ran into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water. After a few moments of searching, she found a bottle of cough syrup and a digital thermometer. She dashed back to the bed. She opened the bottle and handed it to Beca then started running the cold washcloth over the back of Beca's neck as she tilted her head back swallowing probably more than the recommended dosage.
“Thank you.” Beca croaked as Chloe wiped over her forehead and face, then down her chest and arms.
  “I'm calling the doctor,” Chloe said. Not saying '  to find out where to get tested'   out loud. But Beca saw the panic growing in her eyes. She turned on the thermometer and waited for it to chime ready. “Open.”
Beca dutifully opened her mouth and closed it again around the annoying plastic and metal probe. As soon as it was in place she watched as Chloe tried her best not to run from the room to get her phone. After several moments she could hear Chloe's voice but couldn't make out what she was saying until she shouted.
“I know the symptoms! They are all over the news and the internet! The last time we were out in public for any reason was thirteen days ago!”
Chloe's voice dropped again but it was obvious she was coming back to the bedroom just as the thermometer beeped.
“Yes, she is running a fever,” Chloe said as she walked up to the bed and plucked it from Beca's mouth. “Shit. It's 100.8, we need to come in today. As soon as possible.”
Beca watched as the tension in Chloe's face started to relax.
“Yes. Both of us. We went to the store to stock up two weeks ago and have been in close contact with each other in our apartment since.” Chloe paused. “Ok. Thank you very much.”
Chloe took the thermometer and the cough syrup back into the bathroom. She swung the door closed behind her so she could lean against the counter and try not to burst into tears. She only managed to stay quiet when she did start crying.
“Chlo?” Came Beca's scratchy voice from the bedroom after several minutes of Chloe not returning from the bathroom.
“Yeah. Just a second.” Chloe called trying to keep her voice even. She wiped at her face and almost considered doing her makeup, but decided that would make it even more obvious since they had both stopped bothering days ago. She slowly pulled open the door and started towards the hallway. “Just stay in bed. I'm going to bring you the breakfast I was fixing.”
Beca started to shuffle pillows around so she could sit up. She had gotten herself set up by the time Chloe returned with her food. She made another trip to get her own breakfast and climbed into bed with Beca.
“What was this for?” Beca rasped.
“I was thanking you for yesterday and all those Disney movies without complaining even once.” Chloe smiled.
“You didn't have too. But I'm glad you did.” Beca said before coughing a few times.
“Our appointment is at one. They have a mini drive-up testing center set up to keep from exposing other people that have other reasons to go to the doctor right now.”
Beca just nodded, not wanting to talk much more than she had to with her throat hurting.
Chloe turned on the tv and started searching Netflix. She turned on something light and kinda mindless to watch while they ate.
After they finished breakfast Chloe went digging in their closet. At the time the lockdown order had gone into effect they hadn't had any orders about wearing masks in public yet, so Chloe hadn't gone looking since they had stocked up enough food for at least another week and a half. She found what she was looking for tucked into a side pocket of her suitcase. She and Beca had joined the Beale family ski trip last year over Christmas. Chloe had gotten them a pair of 'neck warmer ski masks' that looked like a turtleneck that had been removed from its shirt. It could be pulled all the way up over your nose to keep your face warm and Chloe figured that much fabric would be much better than cutting up a t-shirt like the internet was suggesting. But given they weren't even going to have to get out of the car to get tested they might not even need them at all.
Chloe made them some sandwiches and packed them both a lunch because she had no idea how long they might be waiting despite having an appointment. She gathered a clean change of clothes for Beca, who hadn't gotten dressed yet since waking up. All of this in-between sessions of panicked pacing in the living room.
Once Beca was dressed Chloe changed into clothes that were more acceptable to wear in public before hustling Beca out to the car. She ran back inside to grab their packed lunch and took a long slow look around the home that they had built together, fighting back tears again.
Chloe barely heard the music playing in the car as she drove. The trip took less than a quarter as long as she was planning. There were virtually no cars on the road.
  “Is it just me or does it feel like we are in the opening scenes of some post-apocalyptic movie and we are like the last people left on earth?” Beca was the one to say it, which itself said how deserted the roads were.
They pulled up outside the doctor's office at 12:15, a full half-hour earlier that Chloe had expected. She saw a small tent in one corner of the parking lot and every other parking spot around that corner blocked off. She drove over and was waved down by a person in essentially a hazmat suit holding a clipboard. Chloe opened the window less than an inch, just enough to communicate.
“Do you have an appointment?” The person said.
“Yes, we do. Mitchell and Beale for 1 o'clock. Sorry we are early, I honestly didn't give any thought to how little traffic there would be.” Chloe said.
“Don't worry about. Everybody has done the same thing. We will get you taken care of as quickly as possible. Just wait in the car and we will hold up a sign with your name when it's your turn. Go ahead and park over there.” The person pointed to the end of the row in front of them. “Should be about 10-15 minutes.”
“Thank you,” Chloe said as she put the car back in gear. “How are you doing Becs?”
Beca shrugged and reclined her seat a bit before curling up.
Chloe watched as Beca nearly dozed off then turned her attention to the team working their way through the few cars waiting. They moved with a practiced efficiency that both impressed and frightened Chloe. She zoned out watching their movements until the person with the clipboard waved to get her attention. They held up a small whiteboard with Mitchell-Beale written on it. Chloe's heart skipped a beat.
Chloe pulled up to the spot she was directed to and rolled down both windows. The workers checked their temperatures with laser thermometers, that Chloe thought were pretty cool. They had both of them stick out their tongues so they could check their throats. Then they performed the test, which was very unpleasant. Before they let them leave they did a second swabbing of their throats.
“We will call you when the results come in. Good luck.” One of the workers said as they stepped back from the car to let them leave.
Chloe could barely bring herself to smile at them as she rolled up their windows. She didn't say a word the entire drive home.
When they got home they both changed back into more comfortable clothes and Beca crawled back into bed and took a nap. Chloe wanted to climb into bed and just hold Beca, but instead, she quietly closed the door before retreating to the living room, turning on the tv for some sound, and began crying again.
Chloe jerked awake at the sound of metal clanging in the kitchen. She looked around in confusion. The sun was setting outside. A blanket slipped off of her as she sat up awkwardly trying to move with a sore back.
She shuffled out to the kitchen to find Beca setting a pot of water on a burner.
“What are you doing?” Chloe said, her voice still thick with sleep.
“I woke up from my nap and you weren't there. I found you asleep on the couch so I covered you with a blanket and watched some tv for a while. Then I was in the mood for ramen. So here we are.” Beca said. Her voice still rough but it was better than it had been that morning.
“Go sit down,” Chloe ordered. “You are sick. I'll fix your food.”
Beca looked like she was going to object right up until Chloe shot her a look that said Beca wasn't going to win this argument. She stepped away from the stove and headed for the living room.
“And thank you for the blanket,” Chloe whispered as she placed a light kiss on Beca's cheek.
The next two days went much the same. Beca slept a lot. Chloe cried a lot and tried not to think about the sore throat she was starting to develop. Beca continued to be stubborn and tried to take care of herself as often as possible. And Chloe almost as often either ordered or, on three different occasions, physically carried Beca to the couch or bed to get her to stop.
The afternoon of the third day, after an especially bad coughing fit, Chloe broke. She started crying in front of Beca for the first time since she woke up sick days ago.
“Hey hey hey. It's ok Chlo.” Beca said as she gathered Chloe into her arms and started stroking her hair.
“No. It's not ok Beca.” Chloe's voice cracked. “I can't do this without you.”
“Can't do what?”
“This! Everything. My whole life. I can't lose you.” Chloe said between sobs.
“You aren't going to lose me Chlo.”
“You don't know that! And I don't want to live the rest of my life without you.”
“What the hell Chloe?”
“Beca I am trying to tell you that I'm in love with you and I don't want you to die!”
Beca stared opening and closing her mouth for what seemed like an hour.
A phone ringing startled both of them. Beca reached over and picked up her phone from her nightstand.
  “Hello? … Speaking. … I see. … Both of us? … Ok. … Yes, the one on file. … Yes. Thank you.” Beca hung up. After she set down her phone she took a slow deep breath. “Chloe. I love you too. I'm  in   love with you too.”
  “On no. Nononononono.” Chloe started crying again. She grabbed her own phone and started furiously started typing. “Fuck!”
“What?” Beca asked as Chloe started typing again.
“Apparently the courts aren't considered 'essential services' right now. Maybe they haven't locked down Vegas yet.” Chloe said distractedly.
“What are you talking about Chlo?”
“If one or both of us is going to die in the next few weeks I want to die knowing I got to be married to the love of my life.” Chloe looked up at the sound of Beca gasping. And found tears running down her smiling face.
Beca slowly reached out and took Chloe's phone from her.
“How 'bout you take me on at least a few dates first? But first, you need to make a run to the pharmacy at the Ralph's down the street.”
“Wha...but the internet says there's no treatment yet.”
“They ran a preliminary test here, but they have to send it to the CDC to make sure.”
“And...?”
“They came back negative for both of us. The test that came back positive was for strep throat.”
“So you're going to be ok?” A smile started spreading across Chloe's lips.
“Yeah. After a few more days of this fucking sore throat. And you're probably gonna get it too so they sent prescriptions for both of us to the pharmacy.” Beca grinned. “Maybe you can pick up some pizza while you are out and we can have that first date. Unless you still want to jump right to getting married.”
“After all this time it still surprises me that I am in love with such a pain in my ass.” Chloe laughed.
“'All this time'? Just how long have you been in love with me?”
“Think I'm going to let you wonder about that for awhile. I have to make a trip to the store.” Chloe said as she hopped off the bed giggling.
“Now who's the pain in the ass?” Beca called after her as she skipped down the hall. The sound of Chloe's laughter echoed back into the bedroom and it was the most beautiful thing Beca had ever heard...so far.
49 notes ¡ View notes
weartirondad ¡ 4 years
Text
Chaos, Yet Harmony
Summary: 3 times Peter made Tony watch Star Wars and the 1 time it was Tony's idea.Or: Peter Parker is unapologetically a geek and Tony quickly realizes that there's nothing he wouldn't do for him.
A/N: this is part of the @irondadsecretsanta and is my gift for @aslanscompass. It was a ton of fun & I wish you all a wonderful Christmas <3
Check out all the other AMAZING fics HERE !
FF.net I ao3
--
i.
Tony was wary when he answered the call at 10 past eleven at night.
He had learned early on that late night calls from teenage vigilantes were never a good sign and that, really, a call at any time from a teenager was a rarity and should always raise a red flag. So, yeah, he was wary but he felt like he was entitled to.
Next to him his fiancée was curled around the dark green plush blanket like a cat and regarded him, staring at the lit up screen of his phone, in amusement. “Don’t yell too much.”
He rolled his eyes and accepted the call, “No promises.”
“Mr. Stark?” came the breathless voice of none other than Peter Parker through the speakers and already he could feel his blood pressure rise and tried to breathe out deliberately slowly.
Calm, Stark, you’re calm.
“The one and only,” he answered and was almost proud of how calm and collected he sounded. Oh how deceiving voices could be.
“Oh!” The kid sounded actually surprised and paused for a second in which Tony could only hear the telling thwip thwip thwip of hectic webbing.
Not the best sign but he was calm. So very calm.
He was also already on the way to the nearest window, two steps from calling a suit. Pepper behind him was now openly laughing but he didn’t look back because –
“Great! I might need a little help here. Something.” Thwip. “Something came up.” Thwip. “Sorta.”
“Sorta?” Calm.
“I mean.” Thwip. “It definitely came up. Yup.” Thwip. “Definitely. How far are you from Queens?” Thwip.
“Three minutes,” he sighed, giving up on the act of sounding completely aloof, half waving to Pepper before turning around, stepping into his suit and jumping out of the window. There went the nice, cozy night he had planned.
“Kid? You still there?”
There was a long moment of no rambling and no thwiping and it was unsettling. If Tony knew that getting late night calls was a bad sign, he was sure as heck that random pauses in late night calls where close to the calling of the apocalypse.
“Huh? Yeah. Just, uh.” Thwip. “Try’na avoid getting hit.”
Jesus.
If anyone was going to test his body’s ability to handle stress it wasn’t his own superhero gig or some spandex wearing traitor, it was a goody-two-shoes kid dressed up as a spider.
“Okay, great. You keep doing that and tell me what’s going on.”
Just keep talking, kid, tell me you’re alive.
Peter started talking and while he sounded a little too excited for his taste he let the familiar sound calm him down. As long as Peter was talking, Tony could convince himself that he didn’t have to panic just yet.
He could already see Spider-Man flipping towards another building when a message from Pepper blinked up on his HUD.
Get home safe. Both of you. I’m heading to bed. Love you.
..
“That was wild, Mr. Stark! Like, super wild. Super mega wild. Super-duper mega –“
“Wild?” Tony suggested in mock seriousness, setting down on the landing pad and watched Spider-Man land gracefully behind him. The second the kid had solid ground under his feet he ripped off his mask and took in a big gulp of air. His hair was mussed, cheeks red and his usually light brown eyes dark, pupils dilated so much not much of the iris was left to be seen.
Typical signs of an active sympathetic nervous system, his mind supplied unsolicited.
“Steady,” he ordered roughly when a bony shoulder bumped into his arm but there was no real force behind it when he reached out to wrap an arm around him to do the steadying himself. As soon as he had him under control he led them to the kitchen to get one of the nutrition bars he had started keeping in stock for Peter’s mutant metabolism.
“S’rry.” The kid grinned up at him sheepishly, rubbing at the mess of curls on his forehead in a poor attempt to tame them. “What’re we gonna do now?”
He raised an eyebrow in silent amusement. “It’s midnight, buddy. You should probably get to bed sometime soon if you wanna make first period.”
“But –“ Peter looked disoriented for a moment, eyes flying back and forth between the clock and Tony felt for him when his searching gaze fell on him. He looked so hopeful, as if he was lost and Tony his compass and he was so certain that he would lead him back home. The genuine trust in his eyes pierced through him and immediately he felt lacking. Thank goodness that deflection was his second nature.
Shoving two granola bars into Peter’s hand, he took a step back to give himself some space to reorient.
“You’re too excited to sleep?”
There was a vigorous nod that had crumbs falling everywhere.
“Figures,” he sighed, “The aftereffects of adrenaline are never fun.” He watched the teenager devour the second bar in mere seconds, mind whirling with doubt. “Do you want me to stay with you until you are tired enough to go to bed?”
Wide eyes found his and, mouth still full, Peter gave a timid nod, uncertain question marks clear in the twinkle of his eyes and the way he cocked his head to the side slightly.
“Okay, let’s make some tea and put on a movie. What do you wanna watch? Frozen?” He turned around to start rummaging through the kitchen for herbal tea.
That must’ve been enough for Peter to finally swallow his food and get his bearings. “How do you even know about Frozen, Mr. Stark? Are you a fan?” he quipped.
He half-turned, kettle in hand, grinning when Peter plopped down on the couch and immediately tucked himself into the blanket Pepper had neatly folded and stashed on the arm rest before she had gone to sleep. “Have you been outside last year? Show me someone who doesn’t know about Frozen.”
“Fair point,” Peter agreed easily, mind obviously already a step further. “What’s your favorite Star Wars?”
“Uh,” Tony put the kettle on the stove, “I have seen about as many Star Wars movies as I’ve seen Frozen movies.”
“You –“ The way Peter turned must put a painful strain on his neck but he looked too scandalized to notice. “What?”
The kettle whistled and he put in two bags of Pepper’s herbal tea before replying, “I have never watched Star Wars.”
“Oh my –“ For the second time that evening Peter looked utterly confused which, for a kid that smart, was especially amusing. “What rock have you been living under? I thought everyone knew Star Wars. Especially old people.”
“Hey!” He admonished but had to admit that it lost much of its brunt when he put down two steaming glasses of tea and started tugging at the blanket to cover Peter’s foot fully. “Be nice to me.”
“I’m being super nice, Mr. Stark. ‘Cause I’m gonna introduce you to a galaxy far, far away. The best galaxy.”
Tony watched in amusement as Peter ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to put on Episode IV and then looked eagerly back at him. “You’re gonna love it.”
“This is supposed to make you tired, squirt,” he reminded him, tapping his knee gently.
“It will,” he promised, “Star Wars always calms me down.”
The way he said it made Tony pause, made his heart ache with the harsh reality this kid had had to face and how bright he still was despite of it. Instead of an answer he pushed the glass of tea into his hands and made sure he was all tucked in before starting the movie.
Surprisingly enough Peter wasn’t lying. Halfway through the movie his breathing had evened out so much that Tony thought he was already asleep, cheek mushed into one of the big pillows, curled in on himself.
When the movie was over he stirred, slurring “G’nna watch the rest t’morrow?”
“Maybe let’s split it up a little, whataya say?” He reached out to brush some of his curls from his forehead, surprised by the gentleness of the gesture. “But we can watch them together if you want to.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise, kiddo.”
--
ii.
With Peter it wasn’t exactly hard to notice when something was off.
Even Tony, who admittedly was often too caught up in his own world to be fine-tuned into other people’s feelings and was much more comfortable fixing a cranky robot than moody human, could see it from a mile away. Or maybe that was a new kind of sense that began and ended with Peter Parker’s wellbeing. Oh well, he tried not to dwell on that.
The thing about Peter was that, when he was fine, his entire being radiated contentment, his voice tripped with excitement and his eyes shone with laughter. On a good day he was the picture perfect golden retriever puppy and similarly receptive to hugs and hair ruffles.
Today, though, his usual exuberance had visibly deflated and when he came to the workshop he punched in his code and then continued to scuff towards his workstation with only a passing hello. That was not the Peter Tony knew and, frankly, it was worrying to see someone normally so eager and lively so … lacking of life for lack of a better word.
The thing about Tony was that he was, by his own standing, probably the least equipped to deal with someone having a bad day. Heck, his own bad days usually ended in working through every meal, chugging coffee by the gallon and seeing no sun light for hours on end and even he knew that wasn’t healthy.
So he kept quiet at first and let Peter work in hopes of it calming him down because what did he know about healthily dealing with teenage angst on a Wednesday?
He kept a close eye on him, though, because for how much Tony didn’t think he was equipped to handle Peter’s bad days he also wanted to chase the shadows from his face and the hardness from his stance however cliché that sounded.
He wanted to help, he did. He just didn’t know how. So he watched from afar and contemplated.
When Peter dropped the screw driver a third time and was getting more and more agitated with the web shooter he was working on, Tony decided to stage an intervention ‘cause what the heck. He hated seeing the kid so down.
Rolling his chair over to the teenager’s work bench he picked up the tool before Peter could. “You wanna tell me what’s up, squirt?”
Peter glared, which was about as intimidating as a golden retriever puppy glaring, “Nothing,” and reached for the screw driver. Which Tony pulled out of reach at the last moment.  Which made him look even more like a puppy. It was all in the big brown eyes, he decided then.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I have a secret identity.”
“Which I found out about in like a day.” He leaned back with a grin and started throwing the screwdriver in the air and effortlessly catching it.
“You’re Tony Stark,” the kid gave back with an eye roll, catching the tool before Tony had the chance to. “But I’m fine, honestly.”
“I mean,” he crossed his arms and watched him turn back to his web shooter rather listlessly, “considering that you not being fine usually means you’re bleeding out in an alleyway I’m not entirely reassured.”
“I’ve never bled out in an alleyway.”
“Yeah, because I flew in to get you before you could.”
“Why do you even care?” Peter snapped at him, a flicker of teenage annoyance dancing in his eyes before vanishing in the time it took Tony to ponder the fact that even this seemingly perfect kid could be annoyed. Finally. “Sorry,” he sighed, proving yet again how much better he was than literally anyone else, “I’m just annoyed.”
If that wasn’t a break-through, than he didn’t know what was. Silently patting himself on the back, Tony reached out to turn Peter’s chair so he was facing him and gently took the screw driver from his hands, putting him down on the work bench before giving the kid his full intention.
“What are you annoyed about?”
He shrugged indifferently, not meeting his eyes, “I don’t know. I just... Ned and I got into an argument and he was being so… so stubborn about it. Like, it wasn’t even that bad but he just wouldn’t budge.”
“Oh no, a stubborn teenager. Someone call the zoo we’ve found an endangered species,” he deadpanned.
Peter glared again but Tony could also see him bite down on his lower lip to keep it from curling upwards.
“Sorry, sorry. What did you and Ned fight about?”
“It wasn’t a fight… not really,” he corrected, “And it was dumb. Like, really ridiculous to be so annoyed about it. It’s not… it’s just stupid.”
Cocking his head to the side ever so slightly he raised an eyebrow and repeated calmly, “What did you argue about? I mean, if you don’t wanna talk about it that’s fine but if it’s got you so up in arms about it maybe you should is all I’m saying.”
“You’re gonna think it’s stupid,” Peter pouted.
“Maybe,” Tony shrugged, “But it’s still okay to be angry about something stupid sometimes. You don’t wanna know about half the things Rhodey and I fought about back in the days. Still do, actually.”
“Now I kinda do,” Peter grinned, then paused. “We argued about the Jedi code.”
“You… argued about the Jedi code,” Tony repeated dumbly, “Like… The Star Wars guys running around in wardrobes? They have a code?”
Big brown eyes flew up to meet his, full of indignation “Of course they have a code! There’s actually a couple different versions of it which is what we were arguing about because he said –,“ Peter stopped speaking midsentence, mouth slamming shut audibly. “It doesn’t matter… You don’t… you don’t have to listen to this, honestly, Mr. Stark.”
He made sure to school his expression and started speaking deliberately slowly, “Peter. I know I don’t have to listen to this. And, as you’ve pointed out before I am Tony Stark and you know I rarely do anything I don’t want to but, kid, you gotta know at this point that I like having you around and I like talking to you. That doesn’t just hold true when you’re your usual bubbly self but also, and especially when you’re not. This is clearly important to you. And if it’s important to you, I’m interested.”
He waited until Peter gave him a nod of understanding, timid as it may be, and leaned back in his chair again, “So tell me about this discourse in the Star Wars fandom.”
The kid didn’t have to be told twice and Tony felt his soul settle when he watched him perk up and dive into what must’ve obviously been weighing him down.
“Okay, so the Jedi code most commonly used goes like: There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge etcetera which, you know, it’s mostly meant to be used as a mantra for meditation to, like, get to a place where you don’t let your emotions overtake you and stuff. And I get that, I do.”
When Tony gave an earnest nod to show he was listening, Peter continued. “But it wasn’t always like that. It used to be: Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge, and so on. And I like that one better because it acknowledges the fact that Jedi do have emotions like everyone else, too, right? I think that’s important! And this whole black-and-white view of ‘There’s no emotion whatsoever’ makes me so mad!”
He was gesticulating wildly, cheeks reddening with fervor as he spoke.
“Putting aside how hypocritical the whole thing sounds, you can’t make people think that having emotions will put them on a direct path to the Dark side when so much of the goodness of the Good side comes from how much they care. It’s all about controlling those emotions enough to not make bad decisions based on them but – Why can’t there be peace with emotion? By giving their Padawans the feeling that they’re in the wrong for being… well, for being people they just make it so much easier for them to fall to the Dark side!”
“It just – it makes me mad how black-and-white they want to make the world seem. And by doing that they start lying to themselves and to their students and what good does a code do when it’s impossible to hold yourself to it? You can’t just go around telling people there’s no Death but the Force when that is, objectively, a lie. Whereas Death, yet the Force acknowledges that people die but gives you the closure of knowing where you’ll find them again and the belief that they’re still with you, somehow. I think … I think that’s beautiful.” Once he was done he slumped together on his chair.
“Feeling better now?” Tony asked, reaching out to pat the top of his head.
“Yeah, a little,” he sighed, “I’m annoyed that we even argued about it but I also don’t like how he wouldn’t even listen to my point of view, ya know?”
“Well, did you listen to his side?”
“I mean,” Peter blinked up at him sheepishly, “Kinda?” The corners of his lips tugged upwards and he gave a shrug, “Maybe not as much as I should have,” he admitted with a sigh. They fell silent for a moment, Tony giving Peter the time to work through the wall his mind had built up.
“Guess I’m gonna text him an apology for not listening and that it’s okay that we have different opinions.”
“Atta boy!” Tony grinned at him and while he knew none of Peter’s maturity was his doing, his heart still swelled with pride of how good Peter was.
“Can we watch Star Wars now?”
“You got your homework done?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes.”
“Hungry?”
He laughed, exasperated, “Nothing some popcorn couldn’t fix.”
Tony smiled, then sobered and gave him a once over. “You okay?”
Peter nodded, a lone strand of curl bobbing back and forth, smile soft and true. “Yeah.”
Well, that settled it. He clapped his hands once and got up from his chair in a swift motion. “Then let’s watch... What comes after Episode six?”
“Episode one!” Peter jumped up, grabbing his wrist like a child pulling their parent towards a candy store, “You’ll finally meet Anakin. And honestly that’s exactly my point! Maybe if they hadn’t told him that all emotion is bad –“
He let himself be dragged upstairs and listened to him rambling over the Jedi code and he realized, in that instant, that he was truly, irrevocably happy.
--
iii.
“I cannot believe I let you put me into this,” he complained, his voice breathy and rough.
Peter pulled on his white robe and fastened his light saber in its holder for the umpteenth time. “To be fair, you were the one who wanted a mask. I wanted you to go as Obi Wan.”
“He is blond, Peter,” he shot back like he had the last hundred times they’d had this conversation. He looked around through the dark lenses of his mask, the HUD he had installed blinking up to scour the crowd for possible threads, and sighed, “I miss the days where I was oblivious to Star Wars and didn’t have an annoying teenager dragging me to these things.”
“No, you don’t.”
He was glad the mask hid his smile at the easy banter. It was bad enough Peter knew exactly how wrapped around his little finger he was, he didn’t have to show it time and time again.
“Okay, I don’t. But you still owe me one.”
“But Mr. Sta-a-ark,” he said, dragging his last name for at least two more syllables than it had and looking as pitiful as if he’d actually just lost his hand, “I’m already being punished enough. We’re going to MOMA next semester.”
Despite himself, Tony could feel the fondness shine through as he chuckled, “Excuse me, are you actually voicing dislike in something? Are you actually my Peter Parker or have you officially become a rebel now?”
The kid giggled, honest to god giggled, and shrugged, “Guess there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Mr. Stark. I do dislike things!”
“Really? Name three.” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, leveling Peter with a glare before realizing that the gesture was completely lost in his costume. Not even the tone translated. He really needed to figure something out for that next time. He couldn’t have his natural charm get lost in the Dark side.
The thought made him stop dead in his tracks – thankfully still unseen by the Jedi next to him. Next time? He hated this costume with a passion why would he consider wearing it again?
Unbeknownst to the inner whirlwind that were his thoughts, Peter actually answered his question after floundering for a bit.
“Well, I don’t like bad people. And hurricanes. And MOMA. Even though, MOMA really never did anything to me, I’d just rather go somewhere else y’know. I mean, it’ll probably be kinda nice anyway? So yeah, maybe I don’t not like MOMA. But – I still don’t like, uh, racists?”
Ah, yeah, that was why he was actually thinking about a next time in this ridiculous outfit. Because of Peter freaking Parker.
“Those are all very good things to dislike, Mr. Parker, but I was actually hoping that all people with a little decency and common sense disliked those things,” he teased. “Just admit that you do not have a single mean bone in your body and that it’s physically impossible for you to dislike anything.”
“That’s not –“
“I love your cosplay, man!” some guy in a badly made Yoda costume whose ears were precariously close to falling off the side of his head and were only held in place by a few strands of grey fuzz interrupted him and the disturbance would have annoyed Tony had Peter’s face not started positively lighting up at the compliment.
“Thank you!” he replied easily with a face splitting grin, “I love yours, too. What’d you use to make the ears?”
“Just papier-mâché”, Yoda replied, obviously taken aback by the interest in his own costume by someone with an obviously home-made light saber. He seemed excited, though, and started rambling about something until he let his eyes wander to the side and took in Tony’s appearance for the first time.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, yes, gasped, and gaped at him like a fish pulled out of water, “That is the best father and son costume ever! Can I take a picture of the two of you?”
And before Tony could so much as utter a word, Peter had already nodded his consent and leaned against him with a huge grin on his face and the other kid was fumbling for his phone and started snapping pictures of them. And then a selfie, because of course.
“Is this real life?” he breathed out almost silently.
“It might just be fantasy,” his sassy AI replied instantly, earning him another gasp and round of big, wide eyes from Yoda.
“Did your mask just reply to you? And did the eyes light up? How did you do that?”
“It’s just a, uh,” very high-tech AI system that was talking back to him, “it’s like Google glasses.” He cringed internally and could feel more than see Peter snicker against his side.
“Oh, like the ones Tony Stark always wears?”
By now Peter was having to work so hard on holding back his laughter that he had gone almost rigid, grinning from ear to ear and happily answering for him. “Yes, yes, Tony Stark is totally wearing Google glasses.”
“Ah, well, I think yours are cooler anyway. I mean you’d never find Tony Stark at the Star Wars midnight premiere.”
Oh, don’t I wish, he thought, ruefully imagining how comfortable he could be on his own couch right now.
Peter, though, Peter was loving this which made him reconsider his earlier statement about the mean bones in his body.  
“Yeah, you’re way cooler than Tony Stark. Right, dad?”
Oh for goodness sake. That sassy dad should not do the things to his heart that it was currently doing. That could not be healthy.
“Sure,” he cleared his throat to get rid of the pesky emotions in there, “I mean, Tony Stark is a pretty cool guy but, uh, yeah, so much cooler.”
And, as if someone had heard his prayers, the doors to the movie theater were opened and a reverent murmur went through the crowd before people – droids and aliens, Jedi and Sith alike – started wandering in and taking their places and finally, finally the thing they were actually here to see could begin.
Tony would complain about that day to anyone who would listen (and to some, like Pepper, who wouldn’t) but when Peter sent him one of the pictures the Yoda guy had taken, he framed it and put it up next to the picture of him and Rhodey proudly presenting Dum-E in his lab.
Until, of course, when he broke it in a moment of uncontrollable grief because looking at all he used to have just hurt too dang much.
--
iv.
“You coming, kiddo?”
The voice came out of nowhere, startling him so much he almost toppled over the front porch’s wooden railing he was leaning against.
“Wha-“ he whirled around and his heart simultaneously sang and sank, “Oh, it’s just you.”  
“Yeah, just me. Sorry to disappoint.” The quip fell from his lips easily but his mentor’s dark eyes shone with concern. Somehow that made the lump in his stomach grow even heavier.
“That’s not – I mean, uh, I’m not –“ he stumbled over his words, cringing at how high-pitched his voice sounded even to his own ears, “Sorry. I’m –“
He stopped midsentence when he realized that he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say and just shrugged, coupled with a small smile that was definitely fake and evidently did not convince Mr. Stark of anything.
He was still coming closer, slowly and careful of the shiny prosthetic that sat where his arm used to be.
The image made Peter sick and he tried to focus on his face instead. There were a few more wrinkles than he remembered, especially around his eyes and mouth – from laughing no doubt. He was sporting more grey hair, too, and he looked comfortable in his dark blue cardigan where he used to wear suits or band shirts. He looked exactly like someone who lived happily in a lake house.
“You okay, squirt?”
He snapped out of his spiraling thoughts and, on reflex, started nodding.
“See,” he stopped when he was next to him and leaned against the railing, too, facing Peter who turned to face the small boat that was moving ever so slightly with the lake’s small ripples. “I don’t believe you.”
Huh.
“You’re not okay.” It was a statement, leaving no room for him to argue.
“But –“ He was cut off and a part of him was glad for it because what was he going to say anyway? He was a bad liar and Mr. Stark good at reading him. That, at least, was something that hadn’t changed.
“None of us are really okay and that’s okay,” Mr. Stark said and turned to watch the lake now, too. “Or so I’ve been told repeatedly. But, as I’ve also been reliably informed, we have to talk to each other to get better.”
He shrugged and crossed his arms in front of his chest, tugging both hands under his arm-pits to keep them from shaking.
“No talking, I take it?”
He shrugged again.
“Would you let me hug you?”
His head snapped up instantly. The question came as a surprise but sounded honest and hesitant and attentive and it made his head spin. But, when he took a moment to think about it, he ended up nodding. He didn’t think there was a whole lot he would refuse the man for a while.
Almost immediately he was being wrapped into a strong healthy arm and pulled close until Mr. Stark could bury his face in his hair and take in a deep breath. He couldn’t help but notice how heavily his mentor was leaning against the railing while holding him but he also noticed how his entire body seemed to loosen as the hug went on, how tension and worry slowly sept out of his stance.
Peter noticed the same for himself, too, and somehow that made him want to cry.
The arm around him was steady and it held him together when everything had seemed to fall apart and his head was spinning and he felt his eyes tear up and his heart beat speed up and he suddenly wished that he could stay here forever.
Which was ridiculous. Mr. Stark just wanted to give him a quick hug and go on with his day. He couldn’t know how liberating his touch felt, how cared for and valued and loved Peter felt just by being in his arms and he couldn’t just tell him. He couldn’t –
But it felt so nice.
“Hey, hey, bud,” Mr. Stark sounded worried and it felt like he wanted to pull away and Peter’s breaths started coming in quicker at the thought. There was a sound somewhere in the back of his throat and Mr. Stark stopped pulling away but still loosened his grip.
“It’s okay, kiddo,” he shushed him and Peter had to swallow down a sob because this was getting ridiculous but it felt so nice, “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. It’s gonna be okay.”
After a moment he had caught himself enough to not start breaking down and gave a nod. “I’m –“ he sniffed and whispered, “Thank … Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
For a moment it seemed like his mentor wasn’t going to say anything but then he gave a small smile and pulled him into his side instead. “Anytime, kiddo. Now let’s watch Rogue One. The Force is telling me it’s time for a high stakes-tragedy-comfort movie.”
Despite himself, Peter let out a wet giggle. “There’s never a wrong time for Star Wars, Mr. Stark.”
“I know, I know. It’s tradition. Or so you keep telling me,” he said and the fondness in his voice almost made Peter cry again.
He didn’t, though.
They went back into the empty lake house – May, Pepper and Morgan were having a girls day apparently – made themselves comfortable on the big couch and put on the movie as if they had never done anything else. They moved like a well-oiled machine, like a team that had been working together forever.
Peter was curled into Mr. Stark’s side and his thumb was constantly caressing his knee and it felt wonderful. It felt like home.
The lump in his throat never left.
Somehow it kept growing with every passing minute and with it the loneliness and while he felt right at home it also felt like he shouldn’t. His body felt out of place, as if all the pieces of him had never truly reintegrated, leaving him with holes in his being that he wasn’t sure how to fill.
He watched Chirrut Îmwe blindly walk across battlefields and single-handedly eliminate an entire garrison, trusting the Force to keep him safe and the blazing desire for that kind of certainty hit him unaware.
Maybe that was the whole problem, he realized slowly, as he watched Galen’s message to his daughter and that was when the first tear fell, silent and painful.
Ever since he had come back barely anything had seemed certain anymore. There had been things he had believed to be unchangeable but then a mad Titan had snapped his fingers and his beliefs had turned into dust alongside his body and half the universe and then he had come back and everything had been different and even things that appeared to be the same just weren’t.
May had been gone, too. They still loved each other the same way they always had. Unconditionally. Unquestioningly. Easy. She never had to miss him, never faced a world without him in it. She was the only constant he could claim but everything else –
He couldn’t understand how it had been five years and Mr. Stark had a wife and a kid and a lake house and how he could have still missed him with all that. How he could’ve even had the time. Why would he miss Peter of all people? And, and…
Mr. Stark’s affection was different now. Fiercer, gentler, more… more parental. Or maybe it wasn’t different but he was more open with it. He looked at him the way he looked at Morgan and he couldn’t make sense of that. He couldn’t.
Why would anyone miss me?
He kept circling back to the same question.
Whywhywhywhy- Why me?
He didn’t notice he started full on crying until suddenly the screen in front of him was blurry and his cheeks were wet and his breaths came in rough. He tried to breathe through it, to keep his body calm and steady so Mr. Stark wouldn’t notice but it made his lungs feel like they were on fire trying to keep it all in.
As if he had read his thoughts Mr. Stark’s hand moved up from where it had been resting on his knee and started rubbing slow circles into his scalp. He didn’t move otherwise, made no attempt to pull away and when he spoke his voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Did he? He knew if he started talking, he’d start spiraling and he’d lose the last ounce of self-control he was clinging to. He didn’t want that.
He shook his head, but his body started shaking more violently anyway when he couldn’t breathe through the sobs anymore.
“Shh, that’s okay, buddy, that’s fine,” Mr. Stark murmured, “But stop trying to bite down on your tears. I know how much that hurts. It’s okay. Let it out. I’m here.”
He kept talking – quietly, soothingly, calmly – and at some point Peter’s body decided to listen and he stopped trying to keep quiet and when the first sob broke through his lips he buried his head in Mr. Stark’s stomach and let himself cry.
It hurt and more often than not Mr. Stark had to remind him to slow down his breathing so the oxygen could reach his brain and it didn’t seem to ever stop. But it was also freeing.
Every sob that tore through him gave voice to a pain he had buried inside like needles in his soul that he was pulling out one after the other. For the first time since he had come back he felt like he could breathe again.
His lungs were finally uncurling fully, the weight that had been sitting on his ribcage was gone. He could breathe and at first he gulped in the air like someone pulled from certain death through drowning. He felt like he had been suffocating for weeks and this was the first time someone had pulled his head above water again.
“Slowly, squirt, slowly. Breathe nice and slowly, the air’s not going anywhere, I promise.”
And if Mr. Stark promised to keep his head above water it must be right. After all, Mr. Stark always kept his promises.
They didn’t exchange anything other than those small reassurances and soothings until the end of the movie. And Peter shed a few tears when the inevitable happened but he was tired and cried out and so emotionally drained he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to feel again.
Still, when Princess Leia appeared on the screen he felt the same flutter of hope in his chest that he always felt when he watched it and his soul settled.
“Hope,” she said on screen and the single syllable word echoed through his body, spreading like a bonfire and melting places that had been numb for days.  
Everything was going to be okay.
When the credits started rolling, that’s when Mr. Stark started talking again starting with a cough to clear his throat that sounded like he had been crying, too.
“I know you may not want to talk about it, Pete, but I feel like we should.” He sighed and he sounded sad and strong at the same time. More importantly, though, he never stopped running his fingers through his hair. “You may not have heard but I’m a responsible adult now. Someone who makes kids talk about their problems.”
Peter snorted and Mr. Stark gave a chuckle.
“Granted, Morgan’s tears are usually about whether or not we’re letting her have that second juice pop but we do talk about that.”
“You give her the juice pop, don’t you?” His voice was scratchy but Mr. Stark didn’t comment on that. He laughed quietly.
“It depends, honestly. On whether or not Pepper is around when the tantrum starts.”
“You’re a great dad to her,” he whispered in reply and if he had thought he had calmed down just half a minute earlier then his heart felt like splitting open again now. He couldn’t put the finger on it, didn’t want to admit to himself that it was jealousy of the time they had that he would never get. He hated himself for thinking about it. If anyone deserved a family it was Mr. Stark and Morgan was the sweetest child. It was just –
Morgan belonged with her family, she was a Stark through and through – stubbornness and smarts and all. And Mr. Stark belonged with Pepper and his daughter, too. He knew that. He wanted that for them.
He just – he had thought that he had kind of belonged with Mr. Stark, too, but how could he now that he had been gone for five years? How could he ever belong anywhere ever again?
“As they say; practice makes perfect,” Mr. Stark spoke, completely oblivious to Peter’s thoughts, “Guess it gets easier the second time around.”
For a moment he forgot to spiral into self-doubt and angst and stopped. A Second… Second time? Huh?
As if he sensed the wordless question, his mentor pulled him closer and buried his face in his hair again. It seemed to soothe him as much as it calmed Peter. He seemed comfortable this close. Happy, at home.
“See, squirt, I know that I didn’t raise you. I would never take that honor and privilege from May and your Uncle Ben and your parents. They made you in the person you were when I met you and that person was already better than anything I could have ever hoped to achieve. But then,” he paused as if unsure how to continue, “We did meet and I did get the honor of being in your life, of mentoring you, of caring for you. I made a lot of mistakes at first and – My biggest mistake was trying to keep you at arm’s length.”
“I don’t – I don’t understand,” Peter whispered, pushing himself up far enough to meet his mentor’s eyes that were glistening with unshed tears. His gaze softened even more when he saw his own tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes and there was a shadow of anguish and a spark of love in them.
“I know,” he sighed, never breaking eye contact but shifting them into a more comfortable position, “You can’t understand because I never told you. Not really. But, Peter, you have to know, that you’re my kid. You are as much my kid as Morgan is. You made me want to be a dad, made me want to prove that I could because I wanted to be one to you and I didn’t want to fail you. And –“ he stopped and a shudder went through his body, “And then I did. I failed you and I – I never forgave myself for that. And I never stopped missing you. God, I missed you so much, Pete.”
But … “Why would you… Why me?”
“Because, Peter. Because you’re my boy and I love you and the world was so much darker without you in it and because every awful moment would’ve been less awful with you and every good moment would’ve been perfect. I – I kept going, I went on because I had to. Because there were Pepper and Rhodey and then Morgan. I had to keep going but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you every single second of every single day.”
“I’m scared that I don’t belong anymore. That I don’t belong anywhere anymore,” he admitted finally. The shameful confession uttered so quietly that the words almost got lost in his mentor’s heavy breaths on his cheeks.
“Oh,” Mr. Stark looked at him stunned, like he had grown a second head for a good moment before leaning forward and pulling him back in, holding him tighter than he had ever held him. Both arms folding across his back with the prosthetic cutting into his skin but it didn’t matter, it didn’t. Because he felt held together in place, in a place where he belonged and where he was wanted. He was being anchored and kept from drifting off into the infinite vastness of space and he was so incredibly grateful.
“You belong here, kiddo,” he took in the fierce words in his ear, let them run down his back and warm him like a hot shower after a cold day. “You belong with me and you belong with May. You belong in Queens and you belong here, in this lake house that has been planned with your bedroom in mind. You belong with your family and, for as long as you let me, I will never let you go ever again.”
He cried some more after that – cried himself to sleep that night in fact – but Mr. Stark was there the whole time, holding him, whispering reassurances and tickling a wet smile out of him eventually. The next day was a little bit better. The self- doubt didn’t evaporate, didn’t leave right away.
Some days were worse than others, some were better. Some the voices in his head had him going mad with why’s and what-if’s and some days he couldn’t even hear them over Morgan’s giggles and May’s bad jokes and Mr. Stark lecturing Dum-E.
Coming back wasn’t easy by any means and it did take a while but a couple of weeks later, he jumped out of Happy’s new SUV, running up to the front porch and flying into Mr. Stark’s waiting arms, and his thoughts hummed happily with only one thought.
I’m home.
127 notes ¡ View notes
tabloidtoc ¡ 3 years
Text
National Enquirer, December 28
You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks
Cover: Ghislaine Maxwell scandal explodes 
Tumblr media
Page 2: George Clooney was rushed to the hospital after rapidly dropping 28 pounds to play an ailing astronomer in his latest movie The Midnight Sky and the harrowing incident has infuriated worried wife Amal Clooney -- George’s scare came when he was diagnosed with life-threatening pancreatitis days before he was scheduled to start filming on a glacier in Finland -- Amal was unhappy and angry that he put his health on the line for the role and she was also furious because this wasn’t the first time the father of her twins has been in harm’s way and she’s demanding he take better care of himself so he’ll be around to care for his kids 
Page 3: Lori Loughlin’s deluded daughter Olivia Jade Giannulli is clueless over the college admissions scandal that landed her parents in jail and believes her own hype according to a body language expert -- in an interview on Jada Pinkett Smith’s Red Table Talk Olivia claimed she had no idea posing for pictures on a rowing machine to finagle a crew scholarship to the University of Southern California despite never having practiced the sport was deceitful but body language expert Susan Constantine said Olivia doesn’t appear to have any understanding of the consequences of her actions or those of mom Lori and dad Mossimo Giannulli -- after observing Olivia’s confession Constantine said she didn’t notice any deceptive indicators such as pauses in her speech or shrugging of her shoulders however she labeled Olivia completely unequivocally oblivious which she said made it challenging to judge Olivia’s truthfulness 
Page 4: Lonely Diane Keaton is longing for love and she’s turned to former flame Jack Nicholson for help in landing a new guy -- Diane is truly desperate to find a man and she knows if there’s one person who can help her navigate the dating scene after all this time it’s Jack -- the Oscar-winning actress shocked the world when she recently admitted she hasn’t been on a date in 35 years and she made a joke of it but the pandemic has made her realize how lonely she really is -- Diane would never date Jack again but knows he has a lot of eligible friends who would fit her dating profile 
* Dying Olivia Newton-John worries endlessly about her daughter Chloe and made a touching final request of close pal John Travolta: Please take care of Chloe after I’m gone -- Olivia’s concerns for Chloe spiked after she blasted the COVID-19 vaccine on social media writing that natural medicine is the party she belongs to -- Olivia has been battling stage 4 breast cancer while John lost his wife Kelly Preston to the same disease and John loves and admires Olivia for the way she’s battled this disease and she’s given him the hope and encouragement he needs -- now Chloe’s ongoing issues have pushed Olivia to beg John to pledge he’ll be there for her daughter because Chloe has spent over $450,000 on multiple plastic surgeries including breast enhancements and a nose job and lip enhancements and Botox and she’s also battled anorexia and depression which led to bouts with cocaine and alcohol addiction -- Olivia has always been deeply concerned about who would look out for Chloe if she wasn’t around and now that she can see the end is near she asked John to be that person; he never blinked an eye and said of course 
Page 5: Ozzy Osbourne’s frail and feeble appearance has friends fearing for the rocker but he has no plans to abandon a 2022 comeback even if it kills him -- the 72-year-old singer has battled Parkinson’s disease and crippling nerve damage but has vowed he will die onstage -- nobody disputes he has the heart of a lion and it’s great to see him out and about again recording music and talking the good talk but ultimately Ozzy is a very sickly guy who needs to protect himself and not charge around trying to delude himself by living life at a pace that doesn’t make sense anymore 
Page 6: Rattled reality star Kylie Jenner is living in fear after being terrorized by two crazed fans and is now spending $350,000 a month on a 25-person security detail -- Kylie filed court documents seeking a restraining order against Justin Bergquist who allegedly broke into her $36.5 million California home last month 
Page 7: Lonely Ryan Seacrest may have nearly half a billion bucks in the bank but he’d trade in his riches for another shot at love -- he was so devastated by his breakup with on-again off-again galpal Shayna Taylor last summer he fears he may never find a woman to spend the rest of his life with and he now realizes her put his career before his personal life one too many times and may suffer for it forever -- Ryan’s recent health woes have been a wake-up call and forced him to understand the price he’s paying for taking his partners for granted for so long -- Ryan now realizes life is too short to go it alone and it’s finally dawned on him he’s not invincible and not so self-sufficient after all 
* Miley Cyrus’ admission that she’s had a lot of FaceTime sex has left friends and advisers fearing she may be setting herself up for some unwanted exposure -- though Miley explained she’s turned to virtual hookups to avoid physical contact during the pandemic but she’s putting herself at an entirely different kind of risk and she’s setting herself up as a potential victim of revenge porn 
Page 10: Hot Shots -- Brooke Burke showed off her toned figure in Malibu, Andrew Garfield looked bored on the NYC set of Tick Tick...Boom!, Busy Philipps cleaning, Audrina Patridge and her daughter Kirra on a Beverly Hills playdate 
Page 11: Guy Fieri is eating up heaps of praise for handing out $500 grants to more than 43,000 restaurant workers across the nation -- he scrambled to raise over $21.5 million in seven weeks to help legions of unemployed restaurant laborers who have suffered financially due to the COVID-19 health and economic crisis -- through his new Restaurant Employee Relief Fund Guy personally buttonholed fat cats at cash-rich corporations such as PepsiCo and Uber Eats and Moet Hennessy USA to make donations -- he shows how he did it and shines a light on the industry’s continuing challenges in Restaurant Hustle 2020 a documentary he produced for the Food Network 
* Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood are spreading yuletide cheer with their TV holiday special but they’re more interested in ringing cash registers than Christmas bells -- Garth and Trisha rake in $60 million a year from concert ticket sales and CD purchases and merchandising but the couple saw their cash flow slow during the pandemic -- they lost a bunch of money but they had the unique opportunity to do TV specials and grab a big chunk of it back -- while the $10 million they are pocketing for their TV specials won’t make up for what they would have netted on tour it was a sweet stocking stuffer and they both want to get back on the road and really rake it in but TV has made the wait a lot easier 
Page 12: Straight Shuter -- With Beyonce and Taylor Swift facing off for Song of the Year at the upcoming Grammy Awards producers are scrambling to prevent another Kanye West explosion like what happened in 2009
* Killing off The Talk may be the only hope of saving Drew Barrymore’s tanking talk show
* The Real Housewives of New York are treating the first Black cast member Eboni K. Williams with kid gloves because no one wants to come across as racist 
* Niecy Nash and Jessica Betts (picture) 
Page 13: January Jones’ desperate bid for online attention has pals concerned she may be cracking up -- her red-hot career appears to have cooled since Mad Men ended in 2015 and January is dying to land another plum part like Betty Draper but she’s going about it the wrong way -- she’s been posting sexy bikini pictures and leggy dance numbers on Instagram but that’s not the way to catch the eye of casting directors especially with so few shows in production during the COVID-19 lockdown 
* Caitlyn Jenner has reached out to trans actor Elliot Page offering to be his big sister in an opportunistic PR ploy -- while Caitlyn was one of many trans celebs including Jazz Jennings and Geena Rocero to offer Elliot congratulations and support, Caitlyn viewed the announcement as a new opportunity to leap back into the limelight and she believes that by aligning herself with Elliot she can regain her status as an activist and the symbol of transgender rights in Hollywood -- Elliot is happy to listen to Caitlyn’s advice but he’s been navigating his gender issues for years and doesn’t need guidance and he’s not going to be rude but he doesn’t need the help 
Page 14: Crime 
Page 15: A never-before-heard audio recording is of iconic soul singer James Brown’s wish to leave his $100 million fortune to educate poor children -- in the garbled 1999 recording the singer who died suddenly in 2006 called the creation of his I Feel Good foundation his lasting legacy but his precious foundation has not seen a dime because his fortune has remained tied up in court since his death which is the subject of an investigation by the Fulton County, Georgia District Attorney’s office after allegations surfaced that Brown might have been poisoned by someone after his money 
Page 16: American Life 
Page 17: What Shocked and Rocked in 2020 -- the best scoops and stories of the year 
Page 25: Fired Hillsong Church pastor Carl Lentz was so starstruck by his celebrity parishioners he believed he was a star himself and his ego fueled his shocking fall from grace and now he’s getting mental health treatment after being accused of cheating on his wife and getting sacked for moral failures -- Carl tended the trendy megachurch’s New York City flock and regularly rubbed shoulders with celebs including NBA star Kevin Durant and singer Selena Gomez and even once invited Justin Bieber to live with him before being booted by bigwigs but now he’s said to be getting help at an outpatient facility specializing in depression and pastoral burnout but cunning Carl may have made the move simply to revamp his wrecked reputation 
Page 26: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are heading to couples therapy in a desperate bid to stay together because their marriage is hanging by a thread -- the pair are at each other’s throats as they struggle to adjust to their new life in America -- Harry’s gone from being excited about the move to feeling tortured and it’s like he swapped his royal prison in Britain for a new hell in a $14 million California mansion and he fears he’s made a terrible mistake but Meghan’s ordering him to man up and grab this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make millions away from the monarchy’s suffocating shadow -- the fighting came to a head before the holidays when Harry was feeling especially homesick and guilty about abandoning his family especially his brother Prince William and his grandmother Queen Elizabeth -- adding to their troubles Meghan seems hellbent on staying in the public eye during the pandemic and she masterminded their personal video calls to charities in London and the U.S. and the secret deliveries of meals to the needy but then she made them public and the truth is it’s The Meghan Show now and Harry’s just the side act 
Page 27: A charming Chinese spy bedded two Midwestern mayors and courted other clueless politicians to weasel her way into U.S. government circles -- Chinese national Christina Fang also known as Fang Fang, reportedly entered the U.S. as a college student in 2011 
Page 31: Candice Bergen moaned that at the age of 74 she’s a wreck and that she has a wattle -- Candice admitted to having her eyes done while filming the Murphy Brown reboot because they were very hooded and as for today she knows she should have injections because she has deep lines along her lip but she can’t take the pain 
* Rachael Ray lost her New York home to a blazing inferno but her holidays were salvaged by the warmth of community spirit -- following the devastating fire she and her husband moved into the property’s guesthouse and in a clip on The Rachael Ray Show the emotional host showed off her festively decorated digs and gushed she didn’t know where she’d be without friends and a community and people so dear to her that helped her bring Christmas to life even when you’re not at home 
Page 32: Health Watch -- blood test predicts Alzheimer’s 
Page 34: Longtime lovebirds Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell are hoping to make a movie with their whole family -- the star-studded cast would include Goldie’s kids Kate Hudson and Oliver Hudson and the couple’s son Wyatt Russell -- as for filming with the entire gang Goldie gushed that they have thought about it and she’d love to do something with her kids and the grandchildren too 
* Hollywood Hookups -- Kristin Cavallari and Jeff Dye heating up, Malik Beasley and Larsa Pippen dating but Malik’s wife Montana Yao filed for divorce, Chrishell Stause and Keo Motsepe dating 
Page 36: Infamous Hollywood hotel Chateau Marmont has a storied history of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll ever since it opened its doors in 1929 and nearly a century later it hasn’t been tamed -- even during the pandemic the majestic hotel is wild with drunks, overdoses and luckily averted suicide attempts and according to 911 records the debauched celebrity haunt is filled with people having breakdowns -- the Chateau’s crazy days and nights are legendary: it’s where John Belushi died in one of the bungalows in 1982 from a deadly cocaine-heroin concoction 
Page 38: One of the most iconic images from the James Bond films which is a handgun used by Sean Connery in Dr. No has sold for $256,000 at auction in Beverly Hills -- the gun is a deactivated semi-automatic Walther PP pistol -- the winning bidder who asked to remain anonymous is an American who’s seen every James Bond film with his children -- a helmet created for Tom Cruise in Top Gun also sold at the auction for $108,000 while a sword used by Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction sold for $35,200 
* Dolly Parton has one major thing left on her bucket list which is she wants to see Beyonce sing Jolene one of the country star’s signature songs -- Jolene has been recorded more than any other song Dolly has ever written but that isn’t enough for her because she also wants to see it updated by one of the top female stars of a new generation -- it has been recorded worldwide over 400 times in lots of different languages but nobody’s ever had a really big hit record on it and Dolly always hoped somebody might do it someday by someone like Beyonce 
* Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson has wrestled his way into the alcohol market with his own tequila brand and lifted it into first place as the most successful spirit launch in history and he’s even on track to double George Clooney’s first-year launch -- Dwayne is expected to move more than 300,000 cases of small-batch Teremana Tequila in its first year of trading 
Page 40: Smitten singer Rihanna has fallen hard for A$AP Rocky but friends fear the playboy rapper will leave her broken-hearted -- Rocky is a charming guy but he also has a love ‘em and leave ‘em reputation and everyone’s concerned she’s more into him than he is into her -- Rihanna’s desperate to meet a man she can see herself with for the rest of her life and she believes Rocky might be the one but everybody thinks she’s rushing into things with Rocky -- Rocky is not interested in a long-term romance and Rihanna shouldn’t be thinking of this as more than a port in the storm 
* Lizzo is livin’ large and she’s showing every inch of her jiggles and folds on TikTok -- the body-positivity enthusiast wore a white bikini for an all-angles video in which she amply demonstrated the tricks models and celebs use to look slimmer -- she bared her belly and back and legs and sometimes jiggled her thighs or grabbed a hunk of herself to prove there’s more to luscious ladies than meets the eye and wrote, “Wild to see the body positive movement come so far. Proud of the big girls who gave it wings.” 
Page 42: Red Carpet -- The Crown stars -- Claire Foy, Emma Corrin, Gillian Anderson, Vanessa Kirby, Erin Doherty 
Page 47: Odd List -- baseball fan Darren Johnson hatched an unusual idea for his new chicken coop making it a model of Houston’s former Eighth Wonder of the World The Astrodome
5 notes ¡ View notes