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andyet-here-we-are · 3 years

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I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 3 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first two chapters please~)

The next day flows by in a blur for Geralt. He wakes up, takes a shower, prepares a quick but nutritious breakfast for Ciri, and makes oatmeal for himself.

On his way to the hospital, he thinks about Jaskier and wonders if he should call him now. He almost does that, but then he decides against it because he knows that Jaskier is busy having his fourth dream right now probably. It's too early to call him as much as he wants to do so.

His mind wanders on how cute Jaskier sounds when he is sleepy—when he has just woken up.

Cute, but also usually a bit grumpy even though he denies it with every inch of his being.

***

"That shouldn't be legal," is what Geralt thinks when he steps into the hospital room, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier's sleeping figure. "I can't believe I'm supposed to do that. God, have some mercy on me. I love my job, I really do, but it sucks big time sometimes. Why should I suffer this way?"

A moment later, he is well aware of how dramatic he is being, and how hard he frowns, making a source face. It's not like him to act like this at all.

Damn.

"That dramatic son of a flower must be rubbing off on me," annoyed at himself, he mumbles before he coughs as if that alone is enough to wake the musician up.

"Good morning," he tries when Jaskier doesn't wake up and slightly turns to the other side of his bed instead.

"Mr. Pankratz, it's your medicine time."

Jaskier slightly opens his eyes just to look at him this time, and the first thing he mumbles is: "What happened to your ears?" before closing his eyes again.

"What are you talking about?" The nurse questions, checking his ears with his free hand that isn't holding the medicine tray, wondering what he meant by that.

"Are you still asleep?"

"Yes... No. Maybe?" Jaskier mumbles again, half asleep as he rubs his eyes, trying to make sleepiness go away.

"You will have to pick one of them."

The musician opens his eyes after a while and smiles at Geralt.

"Morning. God, what a sight to wake up to."

Geralt must be used at this by now. Because whenever Geralt has to wake him up, no matter how much Jaskier complains at first most of the time, he always utters the same words eventually.

"What a sight to wake up to."

Yet, every time he does that, Geralt's heart flutters in his chest.

"You didn't sound too happy with my ears, though. What was that about?"

"Ah, about that. I had a dream that— promise you won't laugh?"

"Can't do."

"Anyway," Jaskier yawns and explains: "I had a dream that you were an... elf."

"I was a— what?" Geralt laughs.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!" The musician stares at him like he is ready to kill him.

"I never said that," Geralt forces himself to stop laughing. "Well, that explains everything."

"Shh, stop interrupting me. It's mean."

"Sorry, I'm all ears. Not elf ears, though, sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't sweat it. Bad guys were trying to steal Mrs. Ansley's—who was a fairy, speaking of which—cookie recipe, which was also the key of a parallel universe, somehow. You were trying to protect the recipe, then puff. Some gingerbread men came out of nowhere to help you, but you tried to... eat them? Well, not just tried actually. You managed to eat their leader. Therefore they decided to join the dark side. Can't blame you, though. They looked pretty yummy. I was about to hop on my unicorn for help when you woke me up. A unicorn wearing a pasta costume. Pink pasta costume. Yeah, yeah, I know, that makes no sense, is there even a pink pasta costume?" He asks sleepily, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I had a magical lute, I think."

"You think that your whole dream makes sense, but just the pink pasta costume doesn't?"

"I've never seen a pink pasta costume, so..."

"Oh, sorry, right. I forgot you have seen everything else but that. The elf version of me, alive gingerbreads and all. My bad."

He chuckles at that lightly.

"Still more possible than a pink pasta costume."

"The most ridiculous dream you had this week might be this one so far."

Jaskier seemed to have taken it upon himself to tell Geralt about his dreams. This was the eighth dream he talked about this week, and it wasn't even Friday yet.

"It was like," he opens his arms wide as if he is presenting the name of his new song to the whole world, " 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland' I blame the medicines. And you," he points at the nurse. "I also blame you. For looking like... " he then gestures at everything, "this."

"You blame me?" The other man snorts, amused. "If anything, you should blame yourself for having the wrong dream. Have you ever looked at yourself? You would make a good elf, not me. You are as bea— I mean, anyway, medicine time."

"I am what now? Wait, wait, wait, were you about to call me beautiful?"

"I was about to call you bearable, but then I thought that would be mean."

"I think you were about to call me beautiful, but then you thought 'That wouldn't be professional, you are his nurse,' or something along these lines. Also, that's not even how you start when you're about to say 'bearable' they are not even pronounced the— "

"That's not what happened."

"Nahh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened, but eh, whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

"You're probably thinking you're still in 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland', go back to sleep, you're delusional."

"I am so not! And that would be your problem even if I was. Wanna check my fever?" He says, giving the nurse a once-over, "I feel hot, suddenly."

"Well, that explains why you're delusional, doesn't it?" Geralt teases. "Take your medicine and you will be just fine."

Jaskier sighs and does as he is told.

"Geralt," Jaskier says before Geralt is about to leave, a grin on his face "I think you are 'bearable', too. "

***

Geralt means to call Jaskier.

He really does.

Yet, whenever he is about to call him, something comes up, and eventually, he just accepts that he is going to have to wait for his shift to be over.

For some reason, he doesn't want to call him and get interrupted after a minute.

And he doesn't want to send him a text, because he prefers hearing his angelic voice instead.

So, yeah. He is kind of stuck there for now.

***

Geralt finds Ciri laughing at her own joke as she watches The Office when he gets home, and this reminds him of Jaskier since that's something they both have in common. Once again, he finds himself thinking about the musician.

***

“Shit, it hurts,” Jaskier says, holding his chest.

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way to tell you to stop laughing at your own jokes.”

“Oh shut up, the universe can kiss my ass.”

“Seems like it prefers to kick your ass instead.”

That draws an annoyed laugh out of him, which makes him hiss in pain.

“It wouldn’t send me here if it was trying to kick my ass, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason.”

“I can't believe you still keep using that silly nickname unironically. Don’t you think that it is a bit long?”

“You may be right. Hmm, I’ll just call you ‘Mr. Handsome Nurse,’ from now on.”

“Please don’t. No.”

“How about just ‘Handsome’ ?”

“Still no.”

“Why not? It’s just a fact. You wouldn’t get mad at someone if they would point at a yellow wall and call it a ‘yellow wall’ would you?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I see no differences.”

“Then you better get your eyes checked.”

“Speaking of which—” Jaskier reaches for his scratch book standing on the bedside table “can I borrow your eyes for a second?”

Geralt frowns, wondering what the musician is up to this time.

Jaskier opens his scratch book and stares in his eyes intently for a while and as he scribbles something. "Thanks," he says, "I just needed an accurate model of the stars."

"You know," the nurse shakes his head and answers smoothly: "you could just ask for a mirror."

Geralt can't help but smirk at his open-mouthed speechlessness.

***

He hears a familiar voice singing, and for a moment he is sure that he has finally gone insane.

Drying his hands on a washcloth, Geralt makes his way to the source of the voice, thinking "That must how Jerry feels when he follows the smell of a piece of cheese Tom tries to fool him with."

Jaskier's voice is irresistible to him, just like how cheese is irresistible to Jerry.

Absolutely irresistible, and hard to miss.

He could distinguish Jaskier's voice among all the rest if he heard it in a room filled with millions of men singing a song together.

This voice is coming from their living room. To be more specific, from Ciri's laptop—which she was supposed to use for searching her homework topic, but that can wait for now—

"Or I shall die," he hears Jaskier singing oh so sincerely and dramatically "or I shall die!"

"Dad! Please don't be mad, I swear to God I was going to start doing my homework, but—"

The first thing he does when he sits on the couch next to his daughter is grabbing the laptop and rewinding the video to the start. He then checks if the volume is at maximum.

"Shhh," he gestures, all of his attention is on the video he is watching.

He doesn't even realize that he takes a deep breath as soon as he sees the musician's face appear in front of him on the screen before Jaskier even starts singing.

He is as beautiful as ever in his ridiculous mint green shirt that he left the first four buttons undone.

It has cactus patterns on it.

Geralt can't help but wonder if Jaskier wearing this shirt is actually some kind of a secret message to him and him only.

Didn't he say that Geralt was just like a cactus?

"...prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

His words. Not Geralt's.

What does that even mean then? Something like "I wanna wear you on me like a shirt?"

Okay, he should probably stop because he is reading too much into this and—

"Anyway, so, this song goes to the cruel man who made me want to buy this shirt because it reminded me of him. You know who you are,"

Geralt's breath hitches.

He is not reading too much into this.

If anything, it's vice versa, because Jaskier dedicated a song to him.

Jaskier is thinking about him, too.

Thinking about him too much that he has decided he should dedicate a song to him.

The scene splits into five and one of the boxes on the screen shows Jaskier playing the piano, while in the other he plays the lute occasionally, violin in another one, and accordion in the other one. And in the other, he sings.

Good God. Is there anything this man cannot do?—Besides picking names for babies maybe, since picking names is definitely isn't his strong suit.—

"I tell myself what's done is done

I tell myself don't be a fool

Play the field have a lot of fun

It's easy when you play it cool"

"Does this mean he gave up on me because he got fed up with waiting for my call?" he thinks. But then again, why would he sing a song for him if he gave up?

While watching the video, Geralt is well aware of the fact that he will watch this video again and again and will take special care of each Jaskier— making sure not to miss even the tiniest of the mimic and gesture he does.

"I tell myself don't be a chump

Who cares, let him stay away

That's when the phone rings and I jump

And as I grab the phone I pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him or I shall die

Or I shall die"

He was right, this isn't a song that screams: "I'm giving up." Thank God it isn't. Jaskier puts his hand on his chest as he sings, and Ciri sighs next to Geralt, resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the video with him.

"Oh hello, hello my dear God

It must be him but it's not him

And then I die

That's when I die"

That dramatic son of a flower actually flings himself into an armchair.

"After a while, I'm myself again

I take the pieces off the floor

Put my heart on the shelf again

You'll never hurt me anymore"

While he sings the "put my heart on the shelf again" he puts a heart sculpture on his bookshelf with a serious look and frown on his face. He might have got this heart sculpture just for this video for all Geralt knows.

"I'm not a puppet on a string,"

At this point, Geralt wouldn't be surprised to see actual strings attached to the musician's body just so he could cut the strings. He really wouldn’t be surprised, at all.

Because Jaskier is that extra most of the time.

And Geralt loves that about him.

"I'll find somebody else someday

That's when the phone rings, and once again

I start to pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him, it must be him

or I shall die, or I shall die"

The musician's voice goes up effortlessly into an unreachable octave as he sings the last part, and it's impossible not to be impressed.

But then again, the man puts his heart into everything he does, therefore even doing something like folding a simple frog origami seems impressive when he is the one who's doing it, let alone singing as perfectly as this.

He then slowly walks towards the camera as the other boxes disappear and that one takes over the screen.

"Seriously though," he makes an aggressive 'call me' gesture, and the scene fades to black after that.

"Whoever keeps Jaskier waiting must be crazy," Ciri comments and gave a snort of disapproval and frustration. "He must care about this idiot of a guy a lot if he sings for him like this. What a jabroni. It would take him only a minute to call him."

"Ciri!"

"What? I'm right."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Geralt warns as he hands the laptop back to his daughter.

"I'm surprised that you watched the full thing, by the way. Actually, you don't seem too annoyed with me watching his videos nowadays, and you seemed quite interested in this one."

"I just love Vikki Carr," Geralt says. He has seen the title of the video, after all, so he knew this was a cover of her song. "I've wondered how he sang this song."

"Name five Vikki Carr songs then."

Geralt doesn't know five Vikki Carr songs— he can't even name two, let alone five.

"Okay, I think that's enough fun for you today," the nurse pretends not to have heard his daughter. "Do your homework while I go out to get some milk."

"We have milk at home."

"No, we don't."

"I put it in the fridge myself just this morning, so yeah, we do."

"We're out of these cookies you love, though."

"I thought you said they consumed way too much sugar so we were going to come up with a healthy and as I've read from your invisible subtitles, also probably boring recipe we can make together this weekend?"

"I— God, you ask a lot of questions today." Geralt whispers tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting Ciri's "boring recipe" comment slide.

Fuck him for not saying "I'm gonna go get some groceries," instead.

"I just asked one question, but okay. So? You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, just for one more week, you can have it."

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. Alright, I'm off!"

Geralt ruffles her hair before he grabs his wallet, keys, and most importantly, his phone.

Just before he closes the door, he can hear Jaskier's voice coming from the living room once again.

He cannot blame Ciri at all.

***

"If this is another spam call and not the important call I've been waiting for I swear on all my lute strings that I'll crush that damn phone on the ground and dance upon its bloody ruins! Actually, no, wait, that would mean the possibility of missing the call I've been waiting for, but you got my point."

As soon as Jaskier answers his call and starts talking, he feels like all the tiredness of the day disappears. Jaskier's voice manages to do that even when he is simply busy telling him off, having no idea who he is talking to.

He can see that Ciri was right. He is an idiot for waiting for the right time.

"I'm seriously so sick of—"

Geralt finally cuts him off by saying: "Wow, I wouldn't wanna be a scammer or something right now, you aggressive Dandelion."

"Wait a second, this voice— Geralt?! Is that really you? Oh my God, you finally ca— I mean—"

Jaskier coughs as if he tries not to sound too excited, "Heey, the best nurse in the existence," Geralt can almost see his flirty frowning, yes, he manages to make even frowning look flirty for crying out loud, "How's it hanging?" he asks, his voice sounds deep, lazy, and dare he say, sensual.

"I should be asking you the same question. Are you still praying by the phone?"

"Someone does stalk me on social media, I see."

"And someone sings a song and makes a pretty impressive video clip for me, I see. My daughter was watching it, and that's how I found out about it. Just for your information."

"So you're not the one who stalks me online. It's Ciri," Jaskier says, and the fact that he remembers Ciri's name warms up Geralt's heart if he's being honest. "Sweet. Cool. Cool. I'm not hurt by that at all."

"Well..."

"Would you die if you let me be happy for just a moment? Not that I'm not happy to know that your daughter still watches my videos, but it would be nice to hear that you were the one who checked my account willingly."

"I'm sure I would see your video today anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be that soon, I admit, but I would see it."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

Silence.

But it isn't an uncomfortable one.

"Did you really find it impressive?" Jaskier asks, his voice is full of hope and happiness.

"Well—"

"Nah, I know it's impressive, forget that I asked," he lets out a long sigh, "If I knew making a video clip for you would make you call me right away, I would do that earlier. Were you playing 'hard to get' or something? You know... I find it kinda cruel to make someone who just got out of the hospital keep waiting on the phone for so long. For your information, that 'kinda' is kinda unnecessary here maybe. I call it 'the polite kinda'. Or 'the unnecessary kinda'. "

The next moment, Jaskier's playful tone leaves its place to a caring, worried one as he keeps talking: "If something is going wrong with your life, I take it back though. Ignore everything I said in that case. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Ah, about that— Don't worry, everything is alright," Geralt replies, "I was thinking about calling you today, but I couldn't quite find the time. I know that's not an excuse, and I know I could call you earlier, but I didn't want to call you only to say 'I have to hang up,' a minute later."

"I’m happy to hear that nothing is wrong. And well, even that would be better than leaving me hanging. Or a simple 'Hey, the best patient ever' text would do. You took so long that I would be lying if I said I didn't think about getting involved in another accident."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I would get into millions of accidents just to see you, Geralt. Provided that I could have you as my nurse every time, of course. What's the point otherwise? I'm not a masochist."

"Such a flatterer you are, Mr. Pan—"

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Cross my heart and hope do die, I'm just scattering the facts around like they are glitters. Or cake sprinkles."

"God forbid! Accidents, death... Aren't we gonna talk about nice things at all?"

"I've been waiting for you to call me forever. I have every right to be bitter about it."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I start making up to you, starting now?"

"Sounds like you have something in your mind, Mr. Handsome Nurse."

"I do, indeed. Have you had dinner yet?"

"Does strawberry yogurt count as dinner?"

"I highly doubt it. You were complaining about hospital food, and yet that's what you choose to have for dinner?"

"I've never said I count yogurt as quality dinner, but it's still better than the things you dare to serve people as 'food', I should admit, I thought you already came to terms with—"

"Maybe you should come over so I can show you how a proper, nice dinner looks like. I'm not half bad at cooking."

Jaskier is silent on the other end of the line.

"Are you still there?" Geralt asks finally, "I'm sorry if this was too forward of me or too soon, I just thought it could be nice. You could meet Ciri too, that way."

"No! Yeah! I mean—" if Geralt didn't imagine it, Jaskier sighs and murmurs an angry 'get it together you dumbass,' to himself before he continues talking. "Yes, I'm still here. No, this wasn't too forward of you. I was just taken aback a little bit, sorry. I mean, not every day a handsome nurse who I've been waiting for his call for a decade calls and invites me over for dinner. I'd love that, Geralt."

"I'll send you the address, then." Geralt checks his watch, it's nearly 6 p.m. "Is eight okay for you?"

"Sure, that should be fine. Hey, Ciri still doesn't know, right?"

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Don't you think she would just grab my phone and call you herself if she knew? Or reaching out to you on every social media possible? Shouting from the rooftops, even?"

"She really likes me that much?"

"She just called me, I quote, an 'idiot', 'crazy', and 'jabroni' after watching your video, so..."

"She did what?!"

"I mean, not directly at me since she doesn't know I'm the 'him' in the 'it must be him', but still."

"Seems to me like you're in big trouble here."

"Don't even remind me about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't put some pressure on me though. I mean... What if she doesn't like me?"

"Wha— Ciri already adores you. She adores you so much that it's annoying sometimes."

"It's impossible not to like you," is on the tip of his langue.

"They say never meet your heroes. What if when she actually meets me, she goes 'Meh, that's it?' What if I disappoint her somehow?"

"Worrying about earth getting invaded by the aliens in pink pasta costumes and tutus would much more sense compared to this. Believe me."

Jaskier laughs at that, but Geralt can still sense that he is not completely convinced.

"If you say so."

"I know so, Jaskier. I know so."

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #geralt #my writing #nurse geralt au #I Would Get into Millions of Accidents Just to See You #jaskier x geralt

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voldemorts-tap-shoes · 3 years

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Hi there! Can you make one with a jealous and posesive Hermione? (Ron and Hermione went on a parent meeting at Rose's primary school, Hermione leaves Ron alone for a couple of minutes and when she is back she founds him Surrounded by beautiful mams trying to flirt with him)change the scenario if you like.

Also do you have an AO3 or FFN account?

Thanks for the prompt! I don’t write much in the way of the family years, so this was a fun change of pace for me—hope you enjoy!

(And, yes—I’m on both AO3 and FFN.)

Bake Sale

“Honestly, Ron, the point of this fundraiser is not for you to finance the entire rebuilding of the playground yourself,” Hermione chastised lightly as Ron returned from his tour of the other tables and dumped his cellophane-wrapped haul onto theirs.

“ ‘m not,” Ron mumbled around a mouthful of oatmeal raisin cookie. “And anyway, it’s for a good cause.”

“Yeah, mummy,” Rose chorused, eagerly taking the brownie that Ron handed her despite Hermione’s withering glare. “The swings we have now are rubbish.”

“Rubbish,” Hugo echoed, holding out his chubby little hand to his father. Ron quickly obliged him and then kissed Hermione’s cheek, turning her frown to a smirk as she fought off a full-blown grin.

“Their grandparents are dentists and our house is overflowing with miniature toothpastes,” Ron reminded her logically. “Their teeth won’t fall out after one day of indulgences.”

“What’s an indulgence?” Rose questioned.

“It’s a very big word for the sugary mess on your face,” Hermione replied, smiling as she reached for a napkin.

“Mummy,” Hugo said urgently, tugging at the hem of Hermione’s sundress and leaving a chocolate handprint behind. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Rose shot to her feet, still munching on her brownie. “Me too.”

Hermione stood and reached for both children’s hands. “I can take them if you want,” Ron offered, but Hermione shook her head.

“I’ve been sitting all morning. Need to stretch my legs a bit.” Hermione leaned up and kissed him, and Ron took her seat behind the table as she herded the kids off in the direction of the school building.

She couldn’t have been gone more than a minute before two of the other moms approached him. “Hello, Ron,” the blonde one, Teresa, said with an exaggerated smile before turning to her companion. “Karen, this is the man I was telling you about. He always makes the best sweets for things like this.”

“Oh, I love that. It’s so sexy, a man who can cook,” Karen replied, flashing a similar smile at Ron, who only just refrained from rolling his eyes at her. Teresa was always flirting with the dads at school functions, much to Hermione’s annoyance, and she had apparently found a like-minded companion.

“Karen’s just moved to the neighborhood,” Teresa explained, “and her son is starting year two.”

“Oh brilliant,” Ron said, trying to maintain his friendly demeanor. “Same year as my daughter.”

“So, what delicious treats have the Weasleys brought to the bake sale today?” Teresa asked, though she seemed to be more carefully eyeballing Ron than the cookies.

“The Granger-Weasleys,” Ron corrected, enjoying the way Teresa’s obnoxious grin faltered slightly—she wasn’t Hermione’s biggest fan, either—“have brought our famous almond shortbread.”

“Oh, that sounds yummy,” Karen said, putting an undue amount of emphasis on the word.

“Another Mrs. Weasley classic, I’ll bet,” Teresa added with a wink.

“No, actually, Hermione made these. It’s her recipe, too.”

“Oh.” Teresa and Karen both seemed to deflate as Hermione returned then.

“Teresa,” she greeted the other mum with a forced smile.

Teresa only gave her a brief nod in reply before motioning to her friend. “This is Karen, they’re new in the neighborhood. Karen, Hermione.”

Hermione reached out to shake Karen’s hand. “Yes, I’m Ron’s wife. Nice to meet you.” She took the empty seat next to Ron and placed her hand just slightly higher on his leg than Ron might have thought appropriate for a primary school bake sale. He fought back a grin.

Teresa gave a small tut of disapproval as she steered Karen away from their table. Hermione huffed as well, but her hand stayed put. “That woman is insufferable,” she complained.

“Hermione, not to change the subject, but erm...where are our kids?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “The Masons brought their new puppy, and I couldn’t drag them away. Why does she think that it’s acceptable to flirt with you in broad daylight at a school function?” she asked, glaring after Teresa.

“Dunno.” Ron reached for another cookie. “She’s got herself a prodigy, now, too.”

Hermione groaned. “I can’t take two of them.”

Ron leaned over and placed a feather-light kiss just below Hermione’s ear, making her shiver. “Doesn’t matter how many of these randy school mums there are,” he whispered. “You know I don’t care. You don’t have to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Hermione retorted. “I’m indignant, as a parent. It’s not appropriate in this setting.”

“Mmhmm.”

She turned to face him, her expression softened. “You told them I made our cookies.”

Ron shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“Why did you lie to them?”

“Because.” Ron sat up straighter and leaned towards Hermione, lowering his voice. “She already acts like it’s some criminal offense, you hyphenating your last name, I just...didn’t want to give her anything else to nag you about, like you can’t be a good mum if you’re not in the kitchen all day or some bullshit.”

“Language, Ron,” Hermione interrupted with a smile.

“Oh, right, sorry. Forgot about your indignance, as a parent,” he teased before continuing. “You cook just fine, you just don’t enjoy it like I do. Who cares?”

“That’s very sweet, Ron.” She patted his leg and gave him a kiss. “Unnecessary, but sweet. You don’t have to protect me from the Mum-brigade.”

“Yeah, I know I don’t have to, but—“ He was cut off by the returning chorus of Rose and Hugo, who were now talking over each other, both rapidly trying to articulate all the reasons why they also needed a puppy. He put his lips right to her ear so she could hear him clearly. “You are, as you said, my wife.” Hermione shivered pleasantly again, making him wonder what level of primary-school-inappropriate it would be for them to take the kids back over to the Masons and find an empty classroom for a few minutes.

“That never gets old,” she whispered back with a grin. “And if Teresa ever needs a reminder of who you’re married to, I’m not above ravaging you right on this very table.”

Ron laughed loudly. “Now who’s inappropriate for the setting?”

“What’s inappropriate mean?” Rose piped up as Hugo reached to sneak another cookie from the table.

“Nothing, darling,” Hermione replied, shooting a wink at Ron. “Have another biscuit.”

#hp fanfic #ron x hermione #romione #prompt fill #hpromione

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lovergirl · 3 years

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hi <3 I wanna know what ur go to meals r! I eat the same b l and d everyday and need some inspo

For breakfast, i usually eat something light and easy like yogurt (balkan yogurt is my favourite btw!!!) with maple syrup and i add seeds and granola to it! Oatmeal is also very good and like yogurt you can add whatever topping you want! And then on days i don't work i go for heavier and more labour intensive meals like omelettes and pancakes and bruleed french toast or remake what left over i have for brunch put it on fried rice add some egg! And then just eat it w whatever fruit i have!!!

And then for lunch i just have whatever they serve at work, i usually get sandwich and very good soup like the best soup of your life soup and you can do this too like i find esp with soup making all you need is a really good stock to save you and whatever vegetable and meat you want to add to your soup and then you can switch it up everyday, just invest on having good stock at home and you're set with soup making! and then when i'm on my day off i like making simple cucumber and sprout banchans and i have that with kimchi/tofu soup or kimchi fried rice! It's important to have a tub of kimchi in ur fridge i think, you can do so much with it - soup, fried rice, pancakes, omelette, on its own as a side, add to ramen etc... and then a couple of days ago i had tomato poached fish yummy, i also like making tempura bc all you really need is the batter and you can tempura whatever veggie you have! And like i said!!! If all else fails!!! Just make a soup!!! Like what i do sometimes is grab my left over veggies and usually it's just carrots and some cabbages and maybe potatoes and i soup them together and then i add dry beans if i have some and let the stock do the work and i'm saved and i have that w bread or whatever carb i have!

I go all out on dinner bc i have the most prep time for that! So that's when i make pasta and my go to sauce base is just butter and lemon zest and pepper and lots of garlic and whatever herb i have mixed w the pasta water and parm cheese to make that a lil creamier! I also like making japanese curry during colder days and i make katsu to go with it - bc u can make katsu out of everything just stock up on panko - so for me it's usually eggplant or tofu katsu or if i don't have that i just make tamagoyaki! I like making braised pork belly too, very easy! And then sometimes i make chicken adobo - this is very good if u live alone bc it has long shelf life, just refrigerate it and it gets better the longer it stays in the fridge bc ur protein absorbs the flavour it gets from the vinegar and soy sauce so like u can survive off of it for daysss! I also like making karaage out of broccoli or cauliflower! Miso soup w udon and i eat that w fried tofu!

I think the key to making your meals interesting is to have a really good pantry/fridge full of versatile ingredients so like i said keep a good stock around bc you can turn that into stews or soups or put in ur gravy or what have you, kimchi, panko bread crumbs, eggs always eggs, msg so that u get that boost of flavour, butter to make everything u cook taste decadent etc... like the way i cook, i try to revolve my meals around the ingredients i have on my pantry/fridge and see where it takes me and you can just be as creative as you want! Pretend ur in cut throat kitchen or something!!! Have fun!!! Eat well!!!!!!

#this is very long but i love cooking 😔 so bear w me!!!

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double-o-boze · 2 years

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💕✨create the illusion of hanging out with your mutuals tag game✨💕

Thank you so much for tagging me @holbytlanna!!! Sorry it’s taken forever for me to actually do this 🤦‍♀️😂

are you a morning person?

It really depends. I love being up in the morning! Especially when you can have a slow start and just drink coffee and relax but I am a bit of a night owl so a lot of times I don’t get up as early as I would like. I hate having to get up early and immediately do things tho 😂

ideal breakfast?

Well I usually get nauseated if I eat a lot in the morning so I usually get something light like a smoothie or granola bar. I LOVE breakfast foods though and a lot of times my family does breakfast for supper so I still eat the yummy foods lol. My favorites are probably waffles and this French toast that’s got orange extract and powdered sugar and brown sugar (it’s insanely unhealthy but soooo gooood)

favorite warm drink, and how do you take it?

Mmmm that’s hard because there are so many! I love coffee and I drink it with cream and sugar! I also have this amazing homemade hot chocolate recipe that I make but I don’t like it with water and I’m slightly lactose intolerant so I don’t drink it that often. I also love hot tea, especially lady grey and chamomile!

favorite baked good?

Probably my chocolate chip oatmeal cookies! I also love scones!

a song or album that makes you feel at peace?

Well music is how I cope with everything so I have a ton 😂 but I would say pretty much anything by Owl City instantly improves my mood! Also the song “Eye of the storm” by Ryan Stevenson! It’s amazing!

take a walk with your friends or read a book next to a friend on the sofa?

Probably read a book next to them. I love just existing next to someone I care about and being able to randomly tell them whatever random thoughts I’m thinking!

what tasks do you gravitate to when making a meal with others?

Well, I unfortunately hate being in the kitchen at the same time as anyone else. My poor mom loves cooking with people so I try to do it but I prefer being alone and listening to music. So a lot times if I’m helping someone else I will do something like cut up vegetables since I can do that at the table and not be in the midst of all the chaos but I can still visit.

a chore that if someone completed it for you you’d love them forever?

I’m not a huge fan of washing dishes or peeling potatoes so probably one of those!

favorite board/card game to play with friends?

I love playing games! well, ones that I’m familiar with anyway 😂 I get stressed when it’s a new one and I don’t know the rules. I really like apples to apples, Egyptian rapture, codenames, and clue!

what kind of snacks/candy do you want at a movie theater?

I always want to get sour patch kids and sprite! I think that started when the first hobbit movie came out and we went to the midnight premiere and my dad let us get a snack and little me was super excited about sugar and getting to stay up super late lol

bar with live music or bar with a pool table?

I am not really sure tbh, both sound crowded and crowds stress me out 😂 I want to say pool table even though I’m TERRIBLE at pool but it’s still really fun!

go-to wine/cider/beer/cocktail?

To be honest I haven’t had a wide variety but my dad gets this muscadine wine that is amazing!!

go-to bar food?

Well I’ve never been to a bar so I’m not sure 😂 but maybe a burger? I feel like that would be a bar food?? 🤷‍♀️😂

are you tending the fire, looking at the stars, or singing campfire/folk songs?

I am usually just staring at the fire and listening to what’s happening around me. I would be singing songs but I have to be very comfortable around someone before I will actually sing in front of them.

a favorite Scripture verse or prayer?

Oh man there is no way to pick just one! There are so many but here are a few favorites!

Matthew 6:34

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

1 John 4:7-13 (it’s long I know but so beautiful!)

7Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.

8He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.

9In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him.

10Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

11Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.

12No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.

13Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit.

Proverbs 3:5-6

Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

are you the person begging to go to just one more bar/sing one more song, the person staying up late talking about love and the universe, or the person who fell asleep hours before anyone else?

So it depends 😂 I am a night owl but if it’s a large group my social battery dies at like 9:00 plus I’m like an old lady who hates being out late lol. But if it’s just a couple close friends and we are somewhere I’m comfortable I will not shut up until everyone else is asleep or gone 😂

Tagging with no pressure! @turtleduck-enthusiast @csinickstokes @macfangirl15 @amarilloskies and literally anyone who sees this and wants to do it! For real guys say I tagged you I wanna see y’all’s answers but idk who all to tag 😂

#tag games

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marmolita · 3 years

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“vacation” cooking adventures progress report

Beverages:

eggnog: B. Did not come out correct texture, thickened into pudding. Kids enjoyed eating the non-alcoholic batch as pudding. Immersion blender + some milk fixed the other batch into something drinkable, so overall, adequate.

wassail: A. Every recipe was totally different so I made something up, but it was tasty. Would drink again.

champurrado: A-. Came out great, but I burned the crap out of my tongue, and the kids didn’t care for it. Also made way too much.

Cookies:

sugar cookies: C. I don’t care for sugar cookies, and monitoring my kids cutting them out and decorating them was a huge pain, but, A for fun for the kids, they had a blast.

coconut macaroons: A-. Super easy to make, yummy dipped in chocolate, but I cooked them too long and they got too crunchy.

“ooey gooey smores bars”: B+. Not too hard to make, kids helped and had fun, but they came out kinda more dry than I expected. Possibly because I subbed regular oats for instant oats...

oatmeal cookies: B. Made from a mix and decorated with a tub of frosting and sprinkles because it was a girl scouts project. Would have been better without the decorations and with raisins.

Other:

gingerbread house: A-. The only kit left at the store was a hanukkah house, which is fine for us. It was much easier to set up and decorate than usual because since we’re alone this year, it was just my kids doing it, and I did not also have to monitor my two younger nieces who are very messy with food. Minimum of sugar spilled all over the floor, and both kids were happy with the result. I wouldn’t eat it though.

beef stew: A+, I love my beef stew recipe, and I am proud of myself for timing it just right and it took exactly the 3 hours I predicted to make it.

Yet to make:

buried cherry cookies, which we make every year and they are great

gonna try cooking a whole beef tenderloin, wish me luck

parmesan brioche rolls? we shall see

stuffed mushrooms per the recipe from my mom’s 1970s microwave cookbook

twice baked potatoes in the style of how my dad used to make them, except for I don’t have bright yellow margarine so the potatoes will not end up yellow

baked brie, which I’ve done before but not for a long time, but you can’t really get frozen puff pastry, a jar of jam, and a round of brie wrong

red cabbage recipe I’ve made before, we’re good on that one

I’m forgetting what else is in my plan because I just spent an hour on the phone with T-mobile tech support only to end with my case being escalated to level three tech support and not resolved

#lita talks about herself

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kerwritesthings · 4 years

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The Exquisite Taste of Love

Summary: Everyone’s love language is different and special, getting to share that with the one who you call your heart is something else entirely

Word Count: almost 5.2k (Oops? But not really!)

Warning: tooth rotting sweetness, a touch of naughty and a whole lotta of love

Author Notes: What started out as inspiration from a gif, because the muse likes her pretty, evolved into the idea of a cute little Valentine’s Day blurb which then morphed into a bit of a love letter to the folks in this crazy corner of fandom who have been my biggest cheerleaders when it has come to my writing, with such open arms and friendship. My Valentine’s Day gift to them (and even to the rest of you) – but specially for @whenidance, @parkerdavis, @sinplisticshawn, @fallinallincurls, @illumecherry, @hollandraul - y’all will notice little special fun in here for each and every one of you. My little love language gifts to you <3

This, as always, falls again in line with this little world I’ve created, but again can be read as a stand-alone one shot piece, however I would recommend taking a read so you understand the build and the dynamics – the masterlist of everything can be found here.

“Can we do a baking night, like a date night?” he inquires, slinging himself against your back and nuzzling into your neck as you finish packing the cookies scattered across the kitchen island into Tupperware. You tried to get a jump on it this year, it’s your tradition to always gift your friends and family little homemade treats for Valentine’s Day. This year, you included adding in plans for special batches for some of Shawn’s team and his family, as well as a surprise for Shawn himself. Tonight’s adventure was for the folks whose items must hit the mail to get their treats in time.

“Wait, did I hear you right?” you giggle. “You, you’re asking to do something in the kitchen? By choice? That has nothing to do with trying to mix drinks?”

“Hey,” he whines, drawing out the y, licking sloppily at the side of your neck. “Can’t get better if I don’t try to learn right? And this is fun stuff, not like chicken or broccoli or pasta.”

“Baking is a lot more precise though than cooking. You need to follow recipes and instructions down to a tee,” you explain. “But you’re right, you won’t get better without trying it more. We’ll start with something a little on the easier side. I was going to do salted caramel cheesecake brownies and chocolate covered strawberries for your family to drop off on Friday. We can make them together.”

“Yay,” he replies, blowing a raspberry against your skin. “What else do you have to do?”

“Nothing else tonight thank goodness, these baby Linzer tarts and chocolate cherry truffles were enough,” you tell him as you package up the last of the chocolates. “I still need to make chocolate pretzel drops and spritz cookies for my office. The boys are going to get the crazy squares they inhaled the last time they were here, so I’m going make those for them. Need to figure out what to send the rest of your out of town contingent. Maybe Nanaimo bars. I may have something up my sleeve for you too, but you will have to wait and see on that.”

He shifts you about in his hold, pressing you into the back of the island before kissing you soundly. “I love that all my folks are now tangled up in your traditions, especially when they don’t need to be.”

“Of course, they do,” you state so matter of factly with a smile. “They’re a part of my life now too. You love them, so. Hell, I even have come to love some of them, despite me questioning why on a few.”

He laughs, swinging you around in his arms before sitting you down on the island before cupping your cheeks. The next thing you know, he’s kissing you again, “I love you. Now let’s plan out the next couple days of your crazy baking adventures.”

The next night while he’s locked away in the studio, Skype session with some of the LA crew you think, you at least get the dough made for the spritz cookies, settling in the fridge to chill, and the crazy squares done for his friends here at home. You’re elbows deep in coconut shortbread when you hear him padding down the hall.

“Ok whatever that it, it smells amazing. Coconut, vanilla and what else is in that?” he asks, hopping on the counter behind you. His long legs start swinging and his socked heels tapping against the cabinets like he’s a child.

“These my dear, are the Nanaimo bars. Or at least my version,” you explain, pushing your hair back off your face with your forearm not to get dough all over the place. “More coconut, vanilla and caramel than chocolate. It’s a coconut vanilla shortbread base, it’ll have a vanilla bean studded caramel custard in the middle. That’s in the fridge already, then I’ll do a chocolate caramel coconut topping for them. Figure little taste of Canada to send out to the rest of your folks.”

“I have no idea how you do it, but it looks and smells yummy. Think we can find candles that smell like this somewhere? That’s a scent I could get used to around here. Could sneak one on the road too, have for when I’m missing you,” he replies, poking his nose in some of the new Tupperware you have on the back counter by him. “What are these? They smell different, they’re not that.”

“Those are the crazy squares. It’s basically like a kitchen sink cookie, but in bar form. And since your friends are human garbage disposals when it comes to eating, I think it’s a good choice,” you get out through a laugh. “Oatmeal, chocolate chips, pretzels, potato chips, peanut butter and a little bit of toffee.”

“My little baking machine,” he comments with a tiny grin, stealing a small bar from the container he was sniffing in. “Damn, these are really good.”

“Shawn,” you yell, flicking the towel that was over your shoulder at his knee. “Those are gifts! No eating the presents. You’ll get your own treats.”

“’M sorry, but not really,” he mumbles through a mouth full of crazy square. “Ooh! We need cards to go with these.”

“What? No, baby we don’t,” you try to explain. “The gift is the goodies.”

“Nope. Cards. Have to,” he says, hopping down from the counter then hip bumping you. “At least for my parents, my sister, and then of course Didi and Tomas too. Maybe a stupid one for Cez to make him laugh.”

He drops a kiss to the tip of your nose, “I’ll handle it. Where did you stash all that extra craft stuff from when you had the A and all her girls over? The fancy scissors and all the paper?”

You have no idea what he’s up to, but you know you’re not going to be able to get him off this train. “Clear bin. Guest room closet, right hand side,” you describe. “Should be the one right on top.”

He scurries off and you just have to roll your eyes, biting back the giggle bubbling up. He’s such a softie. You love it, despite your reticence on his need for cards.

While you finish off the trays of bars, get the spritz cookies in the oven and start the chocolate pretzel drops, he’s stationing himself in the living room cross-legged in front of the coffee table. He’s awfully quiet, minus a hum here and there. You only hear the shuffling of papers and the click swish from scissors. You decide to let him be and have his fun, it gives you the time to finish off more than you were planning for the night.

When you’re done, you come out to a living room that’s just exploding with cut out hearts, but no Shawn. There’s a chain of them hanging from around the television, scattered piles over every table like confetti, a few bigger ones at the center of the coffee table in front of the couch.

“So, I may have been a little sneaky,” he confesses from behind you, arm wrapping around your hips to draw you towards him. “I made a few to use as cards but I wanted to do something a little randomly special for you early, since you’re doing all this baking for everyone when you really don’t have to.”

“You are such a squish Shawn,” you whisper, before leaning your head back on his shoulder. “It’s adorable. I love it. Thank you, sweetie.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair.

There’s a massive vase of white roses and jasmine when you walk into the house the next night after work, sitting smack in the middle of the kitchen island, another cut out heart, this one bubble gum pink with silver writing on it, propped up against it.

So you can take the time to smell the roses, and the jasmine too. Can’t wait to bake with you later. Be home by 7 – xo S

“What is he up to now?” you mutter to yourself, not hearing anything in the condo other than the click of your heels on the kitchen tile floor. You find another bouquet in the living room, a smaller version in your bedroom on your bedside table, a new jasmine candle in your bathroom next to a tiny glass holding a fresh sprig of jasmine along with a tiny white rosebud and even a little spray of them on your desk in the guest room that doubles as your home office. You should be getting everything ready in the kitchen for the big bake, but you sit on the end of the bed needing a minute. You pick up the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Didi responds quickly. “You never call unless something’s wrong. Wait, did he propose finally? Is there a ring? You’re not pregnant, are you? Shit girl I told you...”

“Damnit Dee. No, breathe,” you try breaking through on your best friend’s babble. “There is definitely not a baby. Shit’s sake. Not doing things reverse order. Plus, there’s new album and tour and life. So no, not that. And. When there’s a ring, it’ll be a FaceTime, not a phone call. He just. Last night it was cut out hearts everywhere. Today, I come home. The condo’s filled with white roses and jasmine. Everywhere.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “You cry yet?” she asks softly.

“No,” you sniff. “Close though. I think I only mentioned this once. Of course, he remembers and then goes and does something like this.”

“He’s your person, girly,” Didi replies. “And a mushy lovey fucker for you at that.”

Your best friend is right. He is. “Thanks D, I needed this. I gotta go though I’m sorry. I’m attempting to teach him brownie baking tonight. I still need to change and get everything ready before he’s back at 7. I’ll text you.”

Quickly you throw yourself together as best as you could, changing and pulling everything you need to together along with moving the flowers in the kitchen to the living room. You’re rinsing off the strawberries when you hear his keys hit the lock.

“In the kitchen,” you call out when the door shuts.

“Good day?” he asks, head leaning in to place a kiss against your shoulder, his lips cold against your skin exposed by your tank top.

“Better when I got home,” you reply, leaning your head against his still pressing against you. “You’re a crazy boy, and I don’t even know how to say thank you for it. They’re beautiful. All of them.”

He kisses your shoulder again, before shifting to trail his lips up your neck, nibbling at your ear before a lingering kiss to your cheek. “Love you is all,” he states casually. “Let me change and then I’ll be back in for my lesson.”

While he’s gone, you decide to get the strawberries out of the way first. Brownies will be the more complicated of the two, so to start easier will be a good idea. He comes back in as you’re breaking up the chocolate bars into a large glass bowl.

“Chocolate covered strawberries first,” you begin. “They’re the less difficult of what’s on the agenda and we should get them dipped and set in the fridge before the oven gets on and warms the kitchen. Normally I’d melt and temper the chocolate over a double boiler, but not fussing with that tonight. It’s breaking it up, adding a little bit of oil and melting it in the microwave. Then we just dip away. I’ll finish on the milk, why don’t you get started on either the dark or the white, then I’ll do the other when I’m done.”

The both of you find a rhythm, breaking and chatting, sneaking in a kiss here or a prolonged touch there while you get the chocolate ready.

“Now, that those are melted. We pat the strawberry dry to make sure the chocolate will stick,” you explain, showing him the first one. “Hold it closer to the end of the stem and swirl, leave a little bit showing and let it drip the extra chocolate off, then place it down on the wax paper. Once they’re all dipped, we can drizzle another color chocolate over it with what’s left.”

“This isn’t so bad,” he declares after a few rows of berries are done. “Though, I think I know a way to make this a little more fun.”

He dips his finger around the edge of the bowl with the dark chocolate, pulling some off the glass. He eyes you carefully, crooking the chocolate covered finger at you.

“Shawn,” you question.

“C’mere,” he requests. You move slowly over, his non chocolate covered hand grabbing a strong hold against the curve of your hip. He takes the chocolate laden finger, tracing your bottom lip first, then the dip between your collarbones, chocolate sticking carefully against your skin.

“Dessert before dinner, yum,” he whispers, a breath from your lips before sinking into them. Licking his way into your mouth, you can’t help but slide your hands into his hair and moan. It was dirty and deep from the start, but when you flick your tongue against his, you feel his grip on your hip tighten even more.

He breaks from you first, trailing his lips down your cheek, across your neck to latch onto your collarbone and the chocolate he left there. You don’t want him to leave a mark, but secretly, you’re hoping he does.

“Baby,” you whine, hands gripping at his hair harder as he bites and sucks along the line of your bone. At this rate you’re going to be so bruised. He nips his way back up your neck before sipping at your lips again, leaving you breathless.

“Mmm, well you’re quite delicious, I think like this baking thing,” he grins like a cat who got the cream.

“It’ll be my turn soon, don’t you worry,” you proclaim, trying to stir the rest of the chocolate back to life. “Let’s finish these off before the chocolate starts gets too firm.”

He slides behind you, leaning in flush against your back, “I could make a really bad joke here, you know.”

You feel him, half hard and snug against your ass.

“Baking, Shawn. We’re baking,” you remind him with a sigh, while arching back to tease him. “You’re the one who asked for a baking date night. There will be more of that after if you’re lucky and you behave.”

He bites at your earlobe, grinding into you once. “Can we keep some chocolate for later then?”

You push back at him, “Says the one who isn’t always keen on chocolate.”

“But it’s chocolate off you, it automatically tastes better and makes me want more of it,” he proclaims with a cheeky smile, sliding over to the sink to wash his hands.

You make quick work of the last of the berries, getting the trays into the fridge so you can finally get going on the brownies.

“Salted caramel cheesecake brownies next,” you say as you pull the bricks of cream cheese from the fridge and the blocks of butter off the back counter. “Two different batters, but they’re both pretty easy. We start with the brownie batter first, then whip the cheesecake batter, swirl the dulce de leche through that, then swirl that into the brownie batter. Drizzle it all with a little more caramel, then sprinkle on some flaky sea salt before popping them into the oven.”

“It’s unfair how you make it sound so simple and easy,” he notes, watching you measure out cocoa powder. “I see that recipe and it’s like 38 steps long.”

“Not that many. Come over here, I promise let me show you, it’s not hard,” you slide your arm through his to pull him closer.

“That’s what she said,” he quips, poking at your side. The two of you plug away step by step, first on the brownie mixture, before starting in on the cheesecake. While you trust Shawn to continue keeping an eye on the whipping cream cheese in the stand mixer, you break out the jar of dulce de leche you’ve had warming slowly in a warm pan of water on the stove.

“Now that it’s done, and once this is a little cooler, we’ll drizzle some of this in there to make a ribbon through it before adding it into the pan with the brownie batter,” you describe, popping the lid carefully off.

You dip your pinkie into the warm sugary syrup, “Mmm liquid gold. This is perfect.”

Shawn snags your hand before you get a chance to wipe it on the towel, popping your pinkie into his mouth.

“Damnit Shawn,” you husk out as he works at your finger with his tongue. While he’s preoccupied, you quickly poke another finger from your left hand into the jar. Payback, you think, is a bitch. You slide your pointer finger down the line of his jaw before taking it down the line of his neck. His eye pop open and grow wide, sliding your finger free.

You don’t give him a chance to say a word, latching onto his jaw. His hands grasp you immediately, one lacing around the back of your head to hold you to him, the other square on your ass. You take your time, just as he did earlier, licking and nibbling your way through the sweet caramel until you hit his skin.

“Sweetheart,” he moans, almost bordering on a growl, when you hit that spot on his neck that drives him crazy. The hand on your ass draws you closer to him, sliding his thigh between your legs. You keep at that spot, you know there’s nothing coming up so if you do mark him up, which you want to do badly, there’s no real repercussions.

“Shit, baby,” he whines, needy and desperate as you keep up your assault on his neck. You make quick work on the rest of the dulce, sliding right back up to exactly where you know you can get him keening. Kitten licks at first, then tiny bites soothed by a bit of sucking. You keep the pattern up for a few passes, his skin warm under your tongue, warm until you know they’ll be a bit of a reminder tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he bites out, drawing you up and away from his neck to bring you up to meet his eyes.

“Something wicked this way comes,” you smirk, licking at your lips.

He dives for your mouth, hot and hard and fast until you’re both out of breath.

“Now, think we can keep our hands to ourselves to get these in the oven?” you pant. “And when your mother asks how we made these together, we do not tell her about the soft-core porn action in the kitchen.”

He kisses you sweetly, softly, “I think it would be a fun story though.”

You roll your eyes, pushing at his chest, “Brownies, swirling, salting and into the oven. C’mon.”

You both manage to keep your hands, and your lips, to yourself for the rest of the process. You cannot help but chuckle, watching him salt the brownies ever so carefully. “It’s like icy snow,” he proclaims, grinning like a little kid.

Once in the oven, you split clean up duty and then start to pack up the berries off the trays.

“I feel bad that I can’t go with you to drop this all off tomorrow, but there’s no way I can duck out early enough,” you lament, shifting the berries about to make sure they’re not going to be smushed in transport.

“The fact you made all this for them, from scratch no less, is more than enough,” he insists. “I normally just send flowers. Which I’m still doing for both of them. This is just over the top extra awesome.”

You can’t help but smile, “They’re my family now too. Well, close enough you know? I love them…”

He wraps you in a hug, “I love that you consider them yours, cause they are. Absolutely, they’re your family. Now, let’s finish this and go cuddle on the couch until the brownies are done.”

Before leaving for the office, with Shawn still cozy in bed asleep since you’re up a good deal earlier than normal today, you slip out the red box you’ve had hidden in the back of the pantry out onto the kitchen counter. Inside, a few smaller red containers, filled with his treat surprises for the day.

You steal one of the blank hearts from the dining room table, a white one, for a note.

For my darling, the first of a few surprises for you today. Despite your recent affection for chocolate, here’s a little something to start your day. Through the day you’ll find little things here and there, just small little sweets that I know you adore, maybe as much as me. Because my heart, you have mine and I want to spoil you a little today. Love you valentine xo <3

You prop the note against one of the larger containers, this a perfect square. The first time you ever made him your lemon lime scones, it was one of first nights you stayed over. He waxed poetic about them for days. You knew they had to be a part of his treat trail today. This time though in a mini version. The second box, a smaller thinner one, you slide into his guitar case, filled with rolls of homemade strawberry fruit leathers. A third box, shortbread thumbprints with sour cherry jam, you place in his studio by his journal. The fourth, in a tin on top of the corner chair in the living room where he leaves one of his guitars out always, most difficult of the treats you made for him - tequila laced gummy bears. The final, and a last minute addition made last night when he was half dozy on the couch and thought you were boxing the brownies, a few chocolate covered caramels that you leave by his keys at the front table as a nod to last night’s funtivities.

You grab the bag filled with the baked treats for your office and head out the door. When you finally arrive at your office, a few minutes late because of your hiding duties at home and setting up your treats for the team in the kitchen, you’re greeted by a bouquet of blush peonies and antique roses.

“Came in just a few minutes ago,” Rosalie, the office receptionist tinkers gleefully, peeking her head into your office. “Do we get to see that boy of yours today? That would be a lovely Valentine’s Day treat.”

Rosalie, who is old enough to be your grandmother but has the energy level of a teenager, absolutely adores Shawn. They’re thick as thieves, getting along together immediately. She mothers the heck out of him when he comes to see you, helps him sneak things into your office, the two of them gang up on you to make sure you’re fed and hydrated when you’re pulling late hours, and is an absolute godsend when you work remote if you’re out on the road with him.

“Not sure,” you smile, smelling one of the blooms. “I know he’s heading out to Pickering at some point to see his family. Not sure what he’s got up his sleeve or has plans on for later. I’m being surprised. Best not poke at him and ruin whatever he’s got going.”

“Just let him know his smiling face is missed around here ok?” she nods, heading back towards her desk.

You snap a quick photo of the flowers and fire off a text – Happy Valentine’s Day indeed. They’re so pretty, thank you! <3 ilu :) xo

You’re knee deep in trying to clean out your inbox when your phone chimes. A selfie, his bed head in full force and he’s smiling around one of the scones in his mouth. Omg you made me the Sprite scones! AND THEY ARE TINY BABY SIZED ONES I CAN FIT IN MY MOUTH ALL AT ONCE! Followed by alternating string of lemon, soda cup, green and yellow heart emojis.

He finds the thumbprints next, a photo of a cookie next to him giving you a thumbs up, more emojis again this time alternating the cherries, red lips and red heart. Where did you find the sour cherry jam? I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. OR DID YOU MAKE THIS TOO?!

Immediately after was a boomerang, the tin of strawberry fruit rolls, rocking and rolling back and forth. Followed by strawberry emojis between kissy face smileys. These taste exactly like you do after we go strawberry picking in the spring and you sneak berries along the way when you think no one is looking. But I always am.

It takes a little longer for the next find. You’re in the middle of a conference call when your phone starts buzzing. A gif of a worm with a sombrero on, tipping back on a bottle of tequila. How the hell did you make me seriously boozy af gummy bears? They’re as big as my thumb! I can’t have these before heading out to the ‘rents. I’m drunk already from just smelling them.

You have to mute your line and laugh heartily. This right here made it all worth it. His reactions are priceless. You’re so glad the little surprises are making him this silly happy.

The next one, about half an hour later, is a voice memo.

“You sneaky, naughty little minx,” he husks out, voice deep. “Chocolate caramels. You knew exactly what I’d think of, didn’t you? I’m in the car trying to get out and through downtown, but now all I can think about since finding them are your breathy little moans, your hands in my hair and your mouth at my throat. Fuck baby, you definitely left the best for last. I snuck them in the car to have one on the ride, but there’s no way I can even try one now.” He pauses for a beat; a hard sigh escapes his lips. “Just you wait until later. Now, I need to get out of this tangle you’ve got me in before I get home to my parents. I’ll be back by the time you get home from work. I love you sweetheart.”

Thank god you didn’t put that on speakerphone. He sounded like pure wicked sin, plain and simple. He’s got you in knots now too. You just need to get through the rest of the day in one piece. Thankfully, your boss kicks the entire office out early, partially because of her own plans, and partially because of the long weekend stateside. You’ll take it. Hopefully you can beat Shawn home to be able to maybe shower and change before he gets back.

A cute video comes through as you walk out of the office, from his sister. “First off, I’m mad at Shawn for not bringing you with, but then he said you had work. So, I let it slide. A little at least. Then he let us open the goodies. You made all our favorites! You’re the best. Please come visit, or let’s plan another girls’ night and we’ll kick him out of the condo! Wait wait, hold on. Someone else wants to say thanks!” She pans her phone to the kitchen and flips the camera around. “Sweetie, thank you so much for all the treats. You will need to send me the recipe for the brownies, they’re delicious. I still don’t believe Shawn helped you with all this, if that’s the case, congratulations for getting him in the kitchen willingly. And without disaster, I hope at the very least. I’m hiding some so maybe there’s still some left when Manny makes it home. Let’s figure out dinner all of us together next week. Love you!”

Warmth spreads through you as you navigate your way back home after that one. You’re floating at this point. However, you did not luck out in beating him back as you walk through the door. There’s a litany of white pillar candles of all different heights and thicknesses everywhere in the living room, flickering as if they’re just lit. There he is, ensconced in the corner of the couch, guitar slung across his lap. He smiles, patting the open cushion next to him.

“I will spare you from the ultimate perfect yet cheesy Canadian Valentine’s Day, singing some Celine Dion love song to you,” he jokes, pressing a lengthy kiss to your temple. “But I did dig through someone’s playlists to find something. Mind you, this is only part of your gift, which will never rank up against all that you did for me today. That was, just, ridiculous and perfect and sweet. So damn thoughtful, babe. I loved it.”

He leans over to quickly press a kiss at the corner of your mouth before diving into the song.

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through. You're barely waking and I'm tangled up in you,” he sings. “I’m open, you're closed. Where I follow, you'll go. I worry I won't see your face light up again.”

Your breath sticks in your throat. Your brain scrambles slightly, eyes clouding up. You miss him sing the chorus the first go, the blood rushing through your ears.

“I'm quiet you know. You make a first impression. I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind. Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine. Out of the back you fall in time. I somehow find you and I collide,” he continues. “Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I collide.”

You sniff as he finishes, shifting his guitar out of his hands to move behind you before throwing yourself into his lap, arms tight around his neck. “So, you’re going to need to record that for me, so I have that to sing me to sleep when you’re out on tour. Honey, that was just…”

You trail off, leaning your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath and your words all at once. His hands a steady hold on your waist, fingers trailing up and down slightly.

“Just when I think you’ve permeated every part of my heart already, you go and do something like that,” you profess honestly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips. “So much.” He draws you closer, arms tightening around you. His heartbeat a tether to yours, a steady rhythm in time with each other’s beats.

TAG LIST: @whenidance, @parkerdavis, @sinplisticshawn, @hollandraul, @fallinallincurls, @itrocksmysocks, @rainbowshawn, @lasingphomustra, @illumecherry

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb

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thorsstorms · 5 years

Text

Abroad Pt. 13

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 4k

Warnings: None

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK.

Masterlist

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up after school, and don’t forget your lunch is-” She completely ignored him and went straight to a table with a few other kids and picked out her own coloring sheet from the pile in the middle. He watched confused, almost offended that she was so comfortable with this while his palms were sweaty, drawing against his thighs to dry them.

“Hello! I am Mrs. DeCarlo,” she reached for your hand, and then his next, introducing yourselves. “I have a flyer for you both. It’s just a little bit about me, what is going to be going on in the classroom this year, and all my contact information if need be.”

You retrieve the paper from her manicured fingers, glancing over it seeing a small syllabus along with an email and phone number. You handed him the paper while you called one of the boys back over to you, Tristan was the wanderer.

After some convincing from the teacher that she was going to be fine, regardless of his excuses, you left and headed for some breakfast with the boys. The small breakfast place was enough to remind you of one back home. The classic breakfast bar seating and the cute red leather booths were feeding into your longing. the aroma of the diner was immediatly making you want a stack of pancakes and sweet tea but you knew it would just make you sick.

Breakfast had not been your friend lately, it was a battle you couldn’t win. If you ate, you would throw it up afterwards, and if you didn’t eat, the nausea would still hit with a headache like you were starving yourself. You ordered a bowl of fruit and picked at some oatmeal, but you knew it was coming. Chris noticed your lack of eating but didn’t say anything, just a sorry look hiding behind his mug of coffee. The steaming was just enough to hide his lingering curious stare and a somewhat paled face while you avoided the food you did want.

“Papa can you always take Indy to school, and can I always go eat breakfast?” Tristan dropped his fork back on his plate so he could talk to him. The moment was just enough to drag his attention to the mans twinned blue eyes looking back at him. You were always so fascinated by the sentences that they compose in their minds. Always able to see their little gears turning but never know what is actually going on up there.

Chris turned his head towards him when he started, watching him speak. “How about everytime I come home, we can get breakfast. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, turning back to his pancakes. “But, how many times are you coming home for?” Chris was able to decipher what he was trying to say while trying to hide a smirk from his grammar, it was too cute to ignore.

“Bubba do you remember when I go to work, and I get to fight the monsters?” Tristan nodded as he continued. “Well I only have to fight the monsters for two more years, and then they will be all gone!”

“You have to make them all dead?” Tristan furrowed his eyebrows seeming sceptical.

“Yeah, now you eat your breakfast so you can get big and fight them with me.”

Back home from breakfast, Chris immediately took to the couch in front of the tv and just sat there with the boys asking to play the Wii. After it was turned on you joined him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch.

“Scoot over,” you asked him, after he took it upon himself to stretch across the couch. A smirk occupied his face when he didn’t move, not one inch.

“Ok you asked for it,” you pulled the blanket around your shoulders and dipped a knee between his legs to bow down. He was now your bed and he wasn’t allowed to complain.

He opened his arms for you to slide into. “You’re not very comfy,” you complained, but it was half-assed. He stayed silent thinking in his own thoughts. He didn't say anything when you picked up one of his hands and drew it up to your hair for him, but instead moved on autopilot knowing what it meant. His fingers dragging across your hair was the melting point of your own will. He didn't need to think about your actions, well, that action at least.

Into the afternoon, Chris left to go pick her up while the boys were down for a nap, a nap that was getting increasingly harder to maintain. She came in tossing her bag to the floor and talking a million miles an hour about new names you hadn’t heard before, what she did today, how excited she was to go back tomorrow. While you were ecstatic to hear she had a great first day, all it took was one look before she got the gist and picked her bag off the ground where it didn’t belong.

Later that night you got to trail the grocery store by yourself. It may not sound like much, but the silence and calmness of getting to do it alone and not in a rush was almost meditation worthy. Stalking up on lunch things for India, a few items for some yummies that you had pinned, and of course all the basics.

The sound of your ringtone coming from your purse in the basket drew your eyes away from the selection of nausea meds coating the shelves. When you see Bri’s name on screen you almost wanted to mute it and just continue shopping in peace but you knew her too well. She wont stop till you answer or text.

You answered the call and figured you would give her the benefit of the doubt, “Yes?”

“Damn I hope you don’t always answer the phone like that.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. She says she doesn’t need anything, but she was bored and wanted to see what you were up to. She, of course, likes to get nosey, as always, “So, have you decided to wife him up yet?”

“Bri! Jesus Christ give it a rest would you?” The girl is relentless, she can’t even talk to you lately without needing yes or no answers.

“Yea yea whatever, It’s not like you can have babies for two more years anyway.” Confusion crossed your mind before, oh yeah, she demands you tell her everything, even some super-secret contract details that you guiltily spilled in a moment of weakness about him preparing to leave. Who were you kidding, you can’t hide anything from her. Even though you don’t live together anymore she will prod until there is nothing left to tell, got to love her. Two years till he was able to take a break.

“Well what about you? Actually, I don’t want to know. Just please don’t make me an auntie before he goes to the Major Leagues.” As much as the idea appealed to you, you both knew what Ty’s goals were. A Brewers uniform and nothing less.

“Well the next draft isn’t until June next year, and even then I would have to wait another year.” You stopped to think about it… that doesn’t make sense. Your math skills were never the best.

“Then just don’t use the same birth control,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “When you go next time just don’t get the bar again.”

“No, you airhead, we just got it again. They last three years.” Excusing the name calling that you were about to return, you corrected her.

“They last four years, Bri.”

“No, (y/n), It’s three,” You stopped your steps in the middle of the shampoo aisle. She continues to tell you off to prove her point. Reminding you how you both got them at the same time from the same doctor when you moved to Gold Coast in the first place. She never slowed, always had to be right.

You were listening to her rant about how you better have been using rubbers while you stood frozen in the isle, a look of shock and realization tainted your features.

Her rambling about getting it out asap was almost tuned out while you thought to yourself. When was your last cycle?

You couldn’t remember.

“Bri, I think I’m going to be sick.” You replied to her, telling her about how you haven’t been able to eat breakfast lately, the morning when he came home a few days ago. Listening and agreeing, you found yourself wandering back towards the pharmaceuticals.

“Will you come over?” You asked, while eyeing the stupid three boxes in the basket, opting towards the self checkout.

“Yea, I’ll be out the door in five. Just… wait for me.”

After you pulled in the garage you eyed the one bag you brought up front with you. You fiddled with the boxes for a second, deciding on opening them and stuffing the tests in your pants. You hopped out of the car and took the boxes straight to the dumpster before starting to grab a few paper bags to take inside. At the time it sounded like the best place to keep them till you were by yourself but the immediate uncomfortable poking began.

Chris met you in the kitchen, grabbing the rest of the bags while you started to put them away quickly. He almost trapped you in the kitchen by pulling a bottle of ketchup from your hands, prompting you with sleeping kids and an empty bed, but you swerved from his hands, yelling back that you would be back down.

You hurriedly climbed the stairs in the most uncomfortable fashion, pulling the tests from your pants and aimlessly looking around for where to hide them safely until Bri gets here. Somewhere out of sight so they can’t taunt you for the next hour.

You heard the door at the bottom stairs open and you almost jumped out of your skin, quickly shutting the tests underneath the sink in the kitchenette. Standing straight at attention when he emerged from the stairs with an expectant look.

“Uh, Bri is coming,” you said awkwardly, scratching your head. “I wanted to take a shower before she got here.”

“Oh..” He thought about it, taken back as to why she was coming when it was the night before he was leaving. The night he wanted to spend with you. “In the sink?”

You blinked, not understanding the question, “What?”

“Are you taking a shower in the sink? Why are you there if you want a shower.” He looked from the bathroom and back to you leaning against the counter, sensing your weird mood. You took notice of his tone, it got short.

You felt bad for blowing him off. You stepped towards him, trying to get yourself to calm down. You didn’t know anything yet so ruining his mood along with yours was not the plan.

“Will you shower with me?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his waist, planting a small kiss on his chin.

“Hmm. If you insist,” you smiled, reviving his own. “But we are going down stairs because mine is better.”

Bri came into the house to see you scurrying across the living area and past the kitchen in only a white towel and dripping hair. You grabbed her hand and skipped up the stairs with her quickly, feeling nervous all over again.

“Why? What? Where are your clothes? I could have waited! Did you tell him?” She asked.

“No, are you crazy. And by the way, I am pretty sure he is pissed off that you are here,” you dismissed the fact but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t true. “He leaves in the morning and when I told him you were on your way he got moody.”

“Oh he’ll get over it… Where are they?” You pointed to the cabinet under the sink and walked into the room to find clothing. You emerged in leggings and a t-shirt, watching her pull them out. Standing next to her as she pulled them out felt surreal all over again. A wave of panic surging through you at full force from the sight of them.

The feeling of dread came over, flooding behind your eyes, “Bri.” Her name fell like a whine from your throat. A headache was drawing up, one that you knew was self inflicting from the sudden onslaught of anxious thoughts.

You palmed your eyes, taking a second to pull yourself together. Her voice shook you from your own mind. “You are not taking these until you are in the right mind.” She said strictly. “You are not doing this while you are upset. So go ahead,” she motioned towards you. “Get it out now.” She wrapped her hand around your arm and pulled you to the couch, grabbing the plastic sticks of death with her.

You sat across her trying to keep the floodgates under control, so you didn’t say anything at first. “(Y/n) I’m serious, or I’m going to call him up here.”

“Bri I can’t,” your voice was unreliable, “I can’t do this right now. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.” You shielded your eyes from her, worried she wouldn’t have the mercy you wanted at the moment. She didn’t say anything, but you felt her wrap her arms around you, tugging you to her.

“I’m not- I can’t do it by myself,” you mumbled into her shoulder taking a shuddering breath.

“What do you mean ‘by yourself’?” The softest voice you had ever come from her was more comforting than you thought.

“He. He’s going to be gone for so much time. It’s my fault. I should have known better. I made him sign the contract Bri. I told him to sign it!” You pulled away from her and drew up the tshirt to try and dry your eyes.

You were officially the person who will ruin his routine repeatedly. How could you have not known that they were only effective for three years before their hormone deposits run out? The answer was that you did know, you were told, it was somewhere in the unknown regions of your mind while your decision making decided that it was four and not three.

“No, this isn’t just you, snap out of that. He knew what he was doing when he signed the contract. Just stop.” You stilled, looking away from her. Whatever form of softness that was previously present is gone from the tone she was using. “Don’t drown yourself in pity. If you really are, and these are positive, then you cant be shoving this stuff on your shoulders. So stop that now,” you nodded, still avoiding her direction when you knew she was staring right at you. “Now what else are you gonna cry about?” The deep breath you took flooded your lungs like a small encouraging hug before you continued.

“I’m so far away from my family. My mom is going to be upset with me. My dad, oh my god my dad.” The calmness you managed to muster for a moment was broken with a shuddering breath. He always wanted the best for you. Someone to be married to that could provide for a family, and protect his family. You are not married. That’s the first check on the list for your dad. Chris cant be with you all the time. There is the second. You were pretty sure the third strike would be the fact that he is divorced and already has children. Why didn’t you think to talk about these things with your parents while you were home? Because this was not in a plan for either of you.

“You are living with him, if your dad expected anything less then he is being unreasonable. And your mom, sure she’ll worry about you doing this so far from her but dont think for a second she won’t be here if you ask. And they know you, they raised you. They know you are more than capable of doing this, if this is even happening. Which we don’t know yet, by the way.” Her words resonated enough for you to fit in another good deep breath, she was right, as always.

“Okay?” You nodded, wiping your face again.

After a moment to think, you were ready to take them. As ready as one could be.

A baby.

You having a baby. Why are you crying?

The reasons to get upset are all so external. It was time you think about the baby that could possibly be your own for once. Not someone else’s. It could be your own little person. Your own to raise, to dress, to teach, and to love. Your own little person to raise without the guidance of other adults telling you what to do. The tears were for the thought of filling the little hole in your heart that was reserved for the child you would one day have of your own.

You nodded to yourself. You could this, you can take them. You can bare the thought of carrying a little baby of your own. Maybe it wasn’t so conventional all the way around, but it would work because it would have to work.

“Yeah?” Bri confirmed your mood, ready. She watched you grab them from the couch and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The bathroom door clicked open, grabbing her attention as you walked out. “I put them on the counter upside down, will you set a timer?” You asked quietly, walking out. She nodded while you sat back down next to her.

Her eyes held a glossy look with your own. It was selfish of you to throw this on her, to not think of how she was taking this. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for you and you knew it. Your entire lives were spent together, if you were going through the pain, she was going to go through it as well.

You leaned into her for comfort and her hand went to your hair, where she knew you liked it. “This almost doesn’t feel weird for me, if feels like I should be asking you why you haven’t had a child sooner.” You gave her a weird look. “I mean, I know the reason but like, do you know how long you have had baby fever? Since you were like... ten.” You let out a sad laugh in her arms knowing it was true.

“Wow,” she sighed, stopping her hand. “A baby. You and a baby, wow.”

“I know.” You both laid in silence until the timer on her phone went off. The air was still between you both, no one making a move to get up.

“Will you look at them?” You whispered. She agreed while you pushed off of her.

You watched as she grabbed them from the counter and walked back towards you. All three tests were still upside down in her hands as she set them down on the coffee table. You pulled the fluffy blanket off the back of the couch and pulled it over you for some sort of comfort while she sat back down.

“Which should I flip first?” You shrugged at her. You didn’t care, just hoping she would do it already. Your eyes were glued to her hands as she reached for one on the far right. “Ok, I’m gonna do it. But if its positive you have to stay calm okay? If it’s negative you are going down there right now to tell him what just happened.”

“Okay! Just do it! My heart is about to beat out of my chest.” Her fingers reached it and picked it up so she could see it. She stared at it, knowing you were watching her expression.

“Negative.”

It was weird to feel your heart drop. To feel a twinge of sadness flow over your shoulders, down to your chest where you could almost feel the little reserved empty hole in your heart be as hollow as ever.

“It’s-it’s negative? Are you sure?” You took it out of her hands and looked at it. It was negative. There was barely any reading on it at all. “Thats, great. Really. I don’t-”

Your hands fell to your lap. It wasn’t meant to be filled right now. The day will come when it is in your plan, when it is supposed to happen. Drawing your eyes back up to her who was holding both the other ones in her hands. Her brow was tweaked looking between them, back to the one in your own hands.

“What?” You asked. A reminisce of annoyance was sprinkling. It’s not like it was her fault that it was negative.

She moved her hand from her mouth to speak, “They are positive.” She shoved them both into your hands. You flipped them next to each other setting eyes on the prominent stripes on them both. Both of them were positive. You picked up the third in your lap looking at the almost non existent line of its own.

“Maybe it’s wrong. It’s a false positive,” your words stuttered out.

“No! There is no such thing as a false positive, only false negatives.” She grabbed them back admiring them. She was entranced by the tests not noticing your spike in breathing.

“I’m pregnant?” The rhetorical notation flew over her head throwing yes’s at you, repeating the words of affirmation.

Chris was down stairs sitting in his bed, ready to send you a passive aggressive text. He wanted you in there with him. To be laying next to him under the blankets like always. With your head sticking out of the top, your hair thrown over the pillow cases.

It had only been maybe half an hour since you hopped out of the shower and ran out and he already missed your presence next to him. The bedroom felt baren without you in it. He didn’t like it.

All it left him with was the faint smell of your favorite body wash that tainted the bedding where you lay night after night, even when he wasn't there for you to feel next to you.

He erased the words he tried to type out three times. He didn’t want to sound rude, or desperate, or irate. The text box was left empty, shutting his phone off and tossing it onto the bedside table. He had an early morning.

Chris tiptoed up the stairs to your room in the early hours, trying to decipher which lump under the blankets was you and which was Bri. The phone flashlight guided him over a pair of shoes and a pillow thrown on the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets back a bit. The motion of the bed moving and the random light was stirring you awake.

The phone was set on the nightstand, the light illuminating the dark room just enough that you could sneak open your eyes without feeling blinded. You pulled the blanket over your head, though it wouldn’t budge with him holding it down.

“Princess,” his hand pushed your hair out of your sleep ridden eyes that weren’t staying open. You hummed in response. “I have to go.” His voice was a whisper in the quiet room. Just barely heard over the sound of the whirring fan in the corner.

You pulled your arms from under the covers lazily reaching for him. He knew it meant for a hug, bending down to brace himself on the mattress while you squeezed him tight. His face tucked in your neck, giving you a small kiss to the soft skin before pulling away and kissing your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, “even when you blow me off.”

“Im sorry, I love you,” he gave you another squeeze, letting you know he’d call when he landed, before standing up and heading out.

“That was so cute it’s disgusting.” Bri’s tired voice grumbled next to you. You ignored her, settling back under the plush feathery blanket, ready for the moment to be a dreamy haze in the morning.

“Wait!” She shouted, sitting up in bed. You gasped, knowing what she means by her yelling, throwing the blankets off yourself. You charged out of the room taking the stairs two at a time and throwing open the garage door to see the jeep gone and the door already shut.

“God dammit!” You yelped to yourself.

Why does this kind of shit have to happen to you?

Four weeks till he would be back. Four weeks till your brother got here with Chaz and his girlfriend. Four weeks you were going to keep this to yourself, between you and Bri only. She is now sworn to secrecy.

You trudged up the stairs, shaking your head at her expectant gaze, answering the question she was asking. You didn’t make it in time.

What did you expect? Him to be ecstatic and leave you with a smile on his face right after you tell him the news? Maybe it was for the best to wait.

“I feel like I kind of got the gist over the phone. These are the model bands that I picked out for you.” The soft cloth was littered with different sized bands and several metals. The small clutter of various sized diamonds and a few gems lay still, waiting to be inspected. “These three are a set. Each carry a dainty feel, and together have the most elegant look if you ask me.”

“I like that one too.” Chris’s eyes struggled to keep a gaze long enough on one band, this was a commitment job for his mind that couldn’t pick. He set down the thicker band that was held in his fingertips and reached for her outstretched hand that was sporting the trio. The thin bands were encrusted with the tiniest jewels, enough to catch the eye, but not enough to be obnoxious. “Can the setting be altered if I didn't want the diamond that type of cut?”

The jeweler marveled at his choice of vocabulary, impressed that he actually took time to look over the catalog she sent with him last time. “Of course.”

“Ok, I think this one will work.”

Taglist: @keithseabrook27 @odinson-barnes @jonsnowisthesexiestbastard @weekendswithnewtmas @innerpaperexpertcloud @toomanyflowerboys @thefashioncomplex @basmaraafat @imaginationintowords @taketimeandappreciate @superheroesaremytea @vampiregirl1797 @ynm1505 @danathewitchywoman @avengerswhonow @thorfanficwriter @disaster-rose @cap-just-said-language @xmarveled @kemkem101 @chonisberonica @hildehuffles

#chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth #chris hems #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris x reader #thor #marvel masterlist #marvel fic #avengers masterlist #hemsworth fanfic

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #253

hope everyone is staying safe through this quarantine. wash your hands.

Which band do you have more music of than anyone else on your computer? Ozzy. Who’s your favorite philosopher? *shrugs* I don't know any's ideals well. How old were you when you learned how to read? I'm not sure, but I know I was exceptionally young. What’s the coolest Halloween costume you’ve ever worn? I don't think I've ever worn something rather cool. Who’s your favorite painter/artist? If we're talking about well-known, "popular" artists, I'm not sure. Maybe DaVinci. What’s your favorite song lyric- ever? ARE YOU??????????? FOR REAL?????????? Holy FUCK I get goosebumps from lyrics SO easily, this is like impossible. Probably an Otep lyric, though. I really don't like her personally, but goddamn can she write. What’s your dream tattoo if you don’t have it already? I've linked it before, so I'll just remind it's "Denialism" by deviantART's NukeRooster on my entire, upper left arm. I've already gotten her permission (I don't like just... stealing artwork to put on my body), now just comes the day I can pay for it by a top-tier pro. What’s the coolest screen name you’ve ever had? I don't think any have been necessarily "cool." Who do you think was the most badass serial killer? (Real life.) I'm not well-versed in serial killers honestly, but I can say Charles Manson was a C A S E. I think we can all admit he was... interesting. Just the epitome of weird. Most badass fictional serial killer? ig Jason; again, I don't know a lot off the top of my head, but I like him. How many bank accounts do you have? I don't have one. Have you ever been falsely accused of starting drama? Yep. Have you ever found a song that describes your whole life? Parts of it, sure. What kind of car do you drive? I don't drive a car, but Mom's is a... Honda? Kia? Idk. I'm bad with car brands. What kind of car would you like to have? Average size, pretty simple. Burnt orange or red. I know I want one of those screens you look into to see what's behind you when backing up. Have you ever been to Dairy Queen? If so, what’s your favorite thing to eat from there? mmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. So unhealthy, but I will destroy and Oreo Cupfection. Try. That. Stuff. Their milkshakes are also great. Which website do you email from? Outlook. Do you enjoy receiving souvenirs? Sure, it's nice. Have you ever had the flu? No. What about strep throat? Maybe once? Do you normally have a lot of homework, if you’re still in school? Kinda, yeah. Did you ever enjoy gym class? Fuck no. Even when I was healthy. What is your biggest insecurity? My body. Have you ever painted a room alone? No. How many huge secrets do you have? Huge? Uhhh, none, I think. Have you ever painted something and been impressed by it? Yes. Would you rather go out to eat or stay in? I prefer eating out because yummy food, but considering I'm working on losing weight, I avoid it. Do you have any younger siblings? One. Have you ever considered bleaching your hair? To the point of being snow white. Considering my hair is super healthy and bleaching so heavily would destroy it, I'll be avoiding that. I DO want to bleach my hair to do other colors, though. Brown hair sucks. Do you drink vitamin water? No. Are there any old movies you absolutely love? Oh sure, a good handful. The Outsiders probably tops it. Have you ever had a Big Mac before? No, doesn't appeal to me. I don't like veggies on my burgers... despite eating veggie burgers when I was vegetarian lmao. Do you think you attract the opposite sex at a reasonable rate? I doubt that. Have you ever filed a lawsuit on someone? No. Do you enjoy reading often? I'm finally back into it!! Lately all I've been wanting to do is READ READ READ. Have you ever had a deadly illness? Well, I consider depression (among other mental illnesses) to be very deadly, but on a literal level, no. I mean I have dormant MRSA, which can kill if active, but it never has been. Most people carry that dormantly anyway, if I remember correctly. Ever had food-poisoning before? No, thankfully. Where did you last eat dinner at? Mom bought Nicole and me Sonic. Have you ever had someone pick you up off the ground & carried you? When I fainted, yes. Are you a flirty person? Not really. A name you hate with a passion? Edward, to name one. Erwin. A lot of old names. What is your favorite type of water (ex. arrowhead)? Essentia mmmmmmmmmmmmm,, Have you ever been to Warped Tour? I WISH. :( Do you know anyone who wears fur? I fucking hope not, because I wouldn't associate with them anymore. When was the last time you were on myspace.com? Damn yo, millennia ago. How often do you cuss? Too much. I mean, I don't even believe "profanity" is a thing by our definition of "that word is magically bad," but still, it's like when people say "like" too much. Have you ever cussed out a teacher? No. What did you think of the movie Juno? I never watched it. How often do you eat meat? Sigh, more than I wish. What grade did you meet your best friend in? We didn't meet in school. Last time you cleaned your room? Couple days back. I'm honestly bad at dusting regularly in here, but that's gotta change with Mom having chemo now. Her immune system will be compromised so this house needs to be as pristine as it can. When you were little, would you have rather watched Cartoon Network or Disney Channel? Disney Channel. We weren't really Cartoon Network kids, actually. It was Disney or Nickelodeon. Do you shave your arms? No. Are you a big fan of the Harry Potter series? Never read a book, never watched any movies; the first one was playing in my presence once, but I paid no attention. How often would say you pulled all-nighters, if you ever do? Shit man, never, nowadays. I don't think I've had one for two years now. My youth is escaping. Has a friend’s boyfriend/girlfriend ever had a problem with you for any reason? I don't think so. How many times a day do you find yourself cracking your joints, if at all? Maybe not even once a day. Only my big toes and upper back can pop. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? No. Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? No. Do you put ketchup on top of your french fries or on the side? On the side. Who was the last person you talked to in person? Mom. Do you have a dog? Not anymore, thank fuck. Do you like orange juice? Yes. Are you one of those people who obsesses over Hollister? I never liked it. They're not inclusive at all towards fucking NORMAL bodies, nevermind plus size. Apparently even their rules on looks for workers are absolutely horrible. Ashley liked them though, so sometimes I just had to go in with her. If money was no object, would you change your wardrobe? My goth could finally E S C A P E. How do you/did you get to school? My mom drives me. Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Four times that I remember off the top of my head. What candy cane flavor is your favorite? MMMMMMMMMM get the pink Starburst kind. Do you get angry when fast food restaurants mess up your order? It's annoying, yes. Angering when you've already driven away, especially when you really wanted something. What was your favorite elective class in high school? Art. Did you ever wish you could be homeschooled? Yes. I was homebound for a little while. Have you ever had a dream so realistic you could’ve sworn it happened? Yes. Do you have any mental disorders? I'm a walking mental disorder, lmao. Y'all know the biggies, and now ADD and especially DPD (dependent personality disorder) are being considered. Do you feel comfortable talking about these disorders, if you have them? Yeah, I really don't care. Where did you go on your last field trip? I want to say to a band competition in high school. Are you able to agree to disagree? Or do you have to have the last word? Yeah, pretty easily. Is there a cover song you like better than the original version? A whole lot, actually. Do you have a hard time talking about sex with the opposite gender? I have a hard time with anyone. Have you ever had major surgery? Major, no. Is there any food you don’t like that a lot of others do? Here in the South, everyone is most surprised when they hear I hate fried chicken. What was the last thing you bragged about? Hm. I'm not sure, actually. I don't make a habit out of doing that. Can you do a backflip? Hell no. Are you listening to anything right now? I have a video up of relaxing tracks from Silent Hill 2 + 3. Great shit. Has anyone ever tried to tell you you were adopted? No. How many doors are in the room you’re in? Two, but one's just the closet door. Have you ever been engaged and broke it off? No. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yes. Do any of your friends have children? Yep. Is there anything you’re craving right now? Not really. Who got married at the last wedding you attended? A family friend. It was the second wedding I shot. Is happiness something to be achieved and sought after or is it something to be retained and held onto always, no matter what happens? The former. You can't just stay happy when, like, your grandma dies. What gives you a peaceful feeling? Nature. Hearing water and birdsong, specifically. Are you a Toys-R-Us kid? Hell yeah I was. My sisters and I would go crazy if we had the chance to go there. We were SOOOO upset when it closed down. If you believe in Heaven, are there separate heavens for different animals (kittie heaven. dog heaven, bird heaven, etc)? I don't know if I believe in a "heaven," but some sort of peace after death, yes. I believe it's one, unified "heaven." When you sleep next to someone do they fall asleep first usually or do you? They always do considering it takes me ten years to fall asleep. If they do, do you watch them sleep? I have. Not in a creepy way, but rather a "wow I love this person" sorta way. What is your usual breakfast? Usually apple and cinnamon oatmeal What do your salt and pepper shakers look like? They're nothing special. The salt is a blue ceramic, and the pepper one is just what you get from the store. Have you ever had your car towed? I've never had my own car. What band or singer do you believe started rock and roll? I'm pretty sure Elvis is given that credit. Whose voice irritates you like fingernails on a blackboard? The female singer of Mother Mother's voice. Mom and I can't stand her singing. All I songs we enjoy feature almost solely the main singer. I can *tolerate* it in some songs, but. What do you contribute to society? Ha. Do you take naps? Almost daily. Do you have any cavities? Not to my knowledge. Do you believe that there has been a man on the moon? Yes, though I do believe the "first" landing was faked in competition with Russia. It sounds ridiculous, but I'm so serious, look into the theory - there's incredible evidence. Would you ever go into a sex shop? I'd be too self-conscious to. I'd just order online. Let’s just say your school team is on a winning streak. One of the cheerleaders cheers both for your team and the other team during games. Does it make you angry? I don't care enough about sports to even consider how I'd feel. Do you prefer carnivals, festivals, circuses, parades or faires? To be real, I only know the difference between parades and circuses. What even distinguishes the other three from each other. Do you believe in psychic ability or is it a sham? I lean towards no. What is your favorite classic rock song? You CANNOT ask me this question. Classic rock is some of the best music there is.

#survey #quiz #questions

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flowerpowell · 6 years

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Secrets II (Liam x MC // Drake x MC)

Second part is here! The actual action starts in next chapter (!!), the first two are just to introduce the characters and the background. In other words, don’t get discouraged, it’ll get better!

All rights for characters go to Pixelberry, plot is inspired by Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, I don’t own these rights either.

Rating: Normal, nothing scandalous

Tagging: @flynnomalleys @boneandfur @choices-sideblog @syltti78 @kickbuttbookworm @client327 @kingliamthirst @walkerduchess @maxattack-powell @lilsouthernsunflower @bizzyschoiches @jared2612 @drakelover78 @confessionsofabrokegirl @furiousherringoperatortoad @mynameiskaylabella

Of course, all good-looking guys are either freaks, gays or fictional. This one here wasn’t an exception. And he’s probably gonna fire me now, Riley thought as Liam shook her hand.

Instead, he just asked, “So, lady Riley, how do you like my house?” “I’d like it better if I could contact my mother” she murmured. “Oh, of course. You can write her a letter and I’ll make sure it will be delivered first thing in the morning.” He smiled warmly. Okay, he is a 100% freak. Who would be that nice after I’ve insulted him on so many ways. “I...Thank you but, don’t you have a phone here?” Riley asked and Bertrand cleared his throat. “Sir.” she added quickly. Liam looked at her and replied, “No, I’m afraid we don’t have a phone. I’m sorry.”

She looked at him in anticipation. “Yes? Do you want to ask me something?” He asked. Riley hesitated and then blurted out “Aren’t going to fire me, sir?” Liam’s eyes widened, “Fire you? And why would I do that, it is jusy your first day!” “Oh, I thought...Nevermind, I’m good” she smiled, “So where’s your daughter, the one I’m supposed to teach?” Before she even finished her question Bertrand made a facepalm and started silently cursing Maxwell for bringing here “this uneducated, clumsy, ill-mannered woman.” What now? Oh, right. She’s an orphan not his daughter. Riley wanted to facepalm herself now too.

“She is not my daughter, however I do take care of her. And I do hope you will make a wonderful governess.” He said politely. “Yes, I’m sorry. But I actually would like to know more about my duties?” “Of course,” Liam smiled, “but first, there is someone you should meet,” he took a hand of a young girl still standing with Maxwell and Bertrand. “Her name is Amelia, Amelia this is Riley, your governess.” The girl looked at Riley as she was speaking, “Hi! I’m Riley, it’s nice to meet you!”

Amelia shook her head and replied, “Je ne compreds pas madame, je m’appelle Amelia and je ne parle pas anglais” Oh my gosh, she’s French. I shouldn’t have written I spoke French perfectly when I know only the basics. Riley nervously giggled. She knew she would have to use French but thought she’d just use the internet. And now, without any help she needed to communicate with this little one.

“Um, bonjour? Oui, enchanté! Je suis Riley.” Amelia smiled and shook her hand “Tu parles français, tu parles français! En fin!” she started daning across the room. Liam looked at her and then at Riley with a big smile on his face. “I think she likes you. I’ll put her to bed and tomorrow you’ll start with English for two hours, is that okay?” He asked. “Yeah, sure, totally! I’ve got this.” I’m so screwed.

Liam left the room with Amelia still singing something in French. Bertrand and Maxwell approached her. The younger brother spoke first. “Good job Riley! They both like you!” “Thank you--” she started but Bertrand broke in. “Yes, they like you somehow so please, do not ruin it.” And he left. Maxwell motioned at his brother. “Don’t be disturbed by him, he’s always been that grumpy.” She smiled. At least one person here was normal. “Thanks. I think Bertrand definitely won the award for the grumpiest man I know.” “Yeah, well, you haven’t met Drake yet, he’s even grumpier.” Maxwell laughed.

What is this place? The grumpy land? Maybe the lack of internet has the same effects as the lack of sun and vitamin D? I surely cannot wait to meet another grumpy man.

They say the first night in a new place is always the hardest. Some also say that whatever you dream about the first night will symbolize your stay in that place.

Riley definitely didn’t have the easiest night. She couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning and then she had nightmares. In the first one she was running away in a blood-stained wedding dress into the woods. In the second, she was trying to rescue Amelia from burning castle but she got lost in the hall and couldn’t find the exit.

When she woke up at half past six, she was more tired than rested. Sleepily, she took a shower and got dressed. Riley took her books, a French dictionary, her little blackboard and went down for breakfast.

When she arrived to the main hall, Maxwell spotted her and friendly waved at her. “Hey Riley! Come join us for breakfast!” Relieved that she doesn’t have to eat alone Riley entered the dining area in the kitchen and said to hi to Maxwell, Bertrand, and a pretty lady sitting by the table and eating something that looked like a mash. She only hoped it wasn’t oatmeal. Riley sat down next to Bertrand, facing Maxwell with the mysterious woman. “Can we get some oatmeal for lady Riley here, please?” Maxwell asked one of the ladies who were preparing food. She nodded at him and brought a bowl full of oddly looking mash. Mmm, yummy. Just what I needed. Maxwell wiped his face and spoke, “Lady Riley, I don’t believe you’ve met my wife, Hana. Hana, this is lady Riley, a new governess to Amelia!” Riley pretended not to hear when Bertrand snorted and instead smiled at Hana. “It’s nice to meet you!” she said, “I haven’t seen many women here.” Hana returned the smile, “Oh, yes, it’s probably because not many people live here anyway.” “Yes, that’s true,” Maxwell added, “Hana and I live in the left wing of the castle, so you can come by anytime you want. And Bertrand lives here, on the first floor, Liam lives here as well, but a little bit higher, and Amelia lives next door. The rest of rooms are either empty or the staff live there. Sometimes they are given to guests when they come. It’s not very often though.” Maxwell explained and she saw Bertrand giving a cold look at his brother, whispering “less talking” to him.

“Maybe I can give a tour later?” Hana proposed. “I would love that, thank you!” Riley answered. Two normal people, it’s getting better!

After this questionable breakfast, which she truly hoped she’d never have to eat again, Riley headed to the “study” room. This time Maxwell drew her a little map of the most important places so she wouldn’t get lost. Amelia was already there and when she saw her teacher approaching she smiled and ran to embrace Riley.

“Mademoiselle Riley!” she greeted her. Oh, that’s gonna be interesting. “Amelia! Comment ça va?” she started. “Excellemment! Je suis super contente parce que tu parles français. Ni personne ici parles français” Amelia’s smile faded.

Great. She just told me how upset she was because no one here spoke French and here I am, just about to tell her the same.

“Amelia...je parle français juste un peu.” Riley admitted that she knew only basics. To her great surprise, Amelia laughed. “Pas de problème Riley! I can parle un peu English” she said. Now, whaat?

“Umm, I thought you didn’t speak English at all? You never spoke it before.” “Oui, vrai, mais there was ni personne I wanted to parle avec. En plus, those people are très ennuyeux. It is fun to watch and écouter while they ne savent pas que je comprends.”

Riley was shocked. This little one was smarter than she looked like. She was using the fact no one knew she understood what they talked about. Maybe Amelia could tell me what’s going on here.

“Amelia,” Riley started, “since you understand those “boring” people, do you maybe know why this place stopped hundreds years ago and have no singal, wi-fi, and hires an outsider because it’s better than a person from here?” Amelia grinned slyly as she spoke, “I know un peu.” Riley opened her mouth to say something but the girl quickly added, “And I might tell you tout je sais, if you gain my trust.”

That was certainly the weirdest class, weirdest kid Riley ever encountered. For two hours, she was trying to teach Amelia what she already knew. The class ended before Riley even realized and she was free for the day. She decided to look for Hana and start the tour around the castle. She lived with Maxwell in left wing and Riley set out in that direction, map in her hand.

Of course, her bad sense of direction led her somewhere else. Those people who built it must have had an amazing time when they built left wing on the actual right side of the castle. Very funny indeed. But she was lost again and somehow ended up in the garden. Riley heard a voice from one of the stables and she decided to ask that person for directions. When she entered she realized the man she heard was actually speaking to a horse.

Well, a person who talks to animals so nicely must be good, right? Besides, he was pretty good looking. At least his back. Very muscular.

“Ekhm,” she cleared her throat and the man turned around to meet her eyes, he had pretty brown eyes and Riley instantly felt drawn to him, “hi, sorry for interrupting but I got lost and I was wondering if you could help me?” “No.” He answered and got back to brushing the horse’s mane.

Okay, that was rude. “Listen, I’m just asking for directions, and you’re working here so you know where’s the left wing.” she was clearly annoyed. The man didn’t even look up, “Look, whoever you are, maybe it’s the best you got lost. You have a chance to escape and never go back.”

Oh man, this man was a freak too. This place is full of handsome freaks. But does that mean it’s--

“Are you Drake?” she asked and he turned to her in surprise. “I am, how do you know? Who are you?” “Maxwell told me there was a man grumpier than Bertrand named Drake and I just figured.” Drake frowned, “And you came here to offend me or?” “I came here for directions,” she stated, “I look for the left wing.” Drake rolled his eyes. “Do you see that fountain there?” he motioned a beautiful fountain that she didn’t notice at first. “turn left, you need to pass the rose aisle and then turn right and you’ll be there.” “Thanks.” she said and left the stable. This guy was weird. Hopefully, she’ll never have to speak to him again.

“You were right,” Riley said to Maxwell when she finally arrived to where he and Hana were living, “Drake is grumpier than Bertrand. And even more rude.” “Ha! Told you so! Although, if you know him better he’s a pretty nice guy.” “I’m not sure I want to get near him anytime soon” she admitted.

“Lady Riley!” Hana appeared in the doorway, “Do you want to have the tour now?” “I do, I still get lost too easily” Riley laughed. “Maxwell, you want to come too?” his wife asked. “I wish, but Liam and I have some matters to discuss. I’ll see you later!” He kissed Hana and headed out.

“What exactly Liam does? Like, what’s his job?” Riley inquired when the two of them were walking towards the main entrance. Hana sighed. “I’m not sure. I don’t really understand what they’re doing, I saw Maxwell helping him with some finances once so I assumed it’s something like that.” “You never asked?” Isn’t that a normal thing to know what your husband does for a living? “I did, but he said it was complicated. Something with business and politics. I really don’t know Riley, I’m sorry.” “Oh, it’s fine, I was just curious.”

The ladies were walking now in silence until Hana broke it. “So here is the main entrance and there,” she motioned to the windows on higher floors, “is your room, a little higher there is Liam’s and Amelia’s right next to him, then down there, is where Bertrand stays, there is where the guests stay, and here,” she pointed her finger to the window they were facing, “is Liam’s study.”

“And where does Drake live? In the stables?” Hana chuckled, “No, he’s occupying the right wing.” Riley frowned. “Alone?” “Right wing is very old and no one really wants to live there. Drake prefers solitude so he picked this place to live in. There are some guards too.”

Guards? Why would they need guards?

“Umm, Hana? Why guards?” Hana’s eyes widened. “I-I don’t know! They just are, you know, it’s a big castle, it’s probably because of burglars.” “Yeah, sure.” Riley wasn’t convinced. She wanted to ask some more questions but the moment they entered the big hall, Liam went out of his study and greeted the ladies. “Lady Hana! Lady Riley! It’s nice to see you both!” He smiled. “How was your class with Amelia?” he asked approaching the ladies.

Hana excused herself and joined Maxwell. “Good, pretty good actually. She’s learing fast. I’m sure she’ll be able to speak perfect English by the end of the summer.” “Oh, that’s wonderful,” he said, “Lady Riley, would like to take a walk with me around the gardens?” I’m not really sure if he’s completely sane. I’ll take my pepper spray just in case. “Sure! I’ll just grab my bag, wait here!” She yelled running up the stairs, not hearing Liam’s laugh. Maybe this will be my chance to learn something more. Maybe he’ll answer me some questions, Riley thought while packing her spray into the bag. She also took her phone, just in case there’s some signal in the gardens. Besides, she can always dial the police’s number. She just wanted to be secure.

Liam was waiting for her in the very spot she left him. When he saw her, he smiled and streched his hand to her. What a gentleman. Riley took his hand and the two of them headed out to the gardens. She was silent at first, trying to come up with appropriate questions.

Before she had a chance to ask anything Liam spoke up. “So, lady Riley, what do you think of my house?” “It’s...okay. Very old, but I guess that’s your style. I love my bedroom though! And the garden, it’s so pretty. Oh and also, I know it’s not really a business for you but, is there oatmeal every day for breakfast? Cause I hate it. And I just wondered if you’ll let me starve to death or maybe--” Liam interrupted her, chuckling, “Oatmeal is very nutritional, but if you don’t like I’m sure you’ll find something else to eat.” Riley looked at his face. He seemed to be a nice guy. Maybe he just likes solitude and is tired with people.

“Liam, sir I mean, what I really want to know, why are you so separated from the civilization? You’re pretty young I believe, and usually it’s old people that retire somewhere far from the city,” Oh my gosh, Riley shut up, “it’s not like you’re old! I didn’t mean, I just wanted, I, um” she rambled.

Liam stopped walking for a moment and bursted into laughter. “It’s okay, I am not very old that’s true, but I’m not very young either. This country is beautiful but I was tired with people and politics and everything that was happening here. I just really enjoy peace. That’s the whole secret.” She smiled not really satisfied with the answer.

Maybe she was just imagining things? Maybe it was true, this guy right here prefers living in alienation. Maybe there’s no story.

But then, a young man, wearing suit and glasses ran up to them, calling Liam’s name. Liam turned around and his face fell. His jaw clenched as the man approached them. “Liam! There you are!” the elegantly-dressed man said, “I was looking for you for a while now, there is an important matter to attend to” he added. Liam’s eyes widened as the mysterious man silently nodded. “Of course!” Liam turned to Riley, “Riley, this is Justin, the bro--,” he stopped realizing what he was about to say and then quickly corrected himself, “my assistant, Justin, this is Riley, Amelia’s governess.” Riley and Justin shook hands. “Lady Riley, I must unfortunately leave you, can we continue the walk later?” “Yeah, sure. No worries.”

The men walked away and Riley only thought how Liam tensed up when he saw that man. And another assistant? Why would Liam need any assistants if that whole thing is just about solitude? Unless...Unless there’s something more to it. Riley looked in the direction of the castle and decided she needed to know what was happening there. First step, Liam’s study.

let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

#trr #trr au #the royal romance #the royal romance au #the royal romance fanfiction #drake walker #king liam #maxwell beaumont #hana lee #liam x mc #drake x mc #? x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction

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