#Also rosie gets a little feature on there as well ofc
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satans-knitwear · 1 month ago
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BEHOLD!! My brother probably got me the coolest birthday present possible.
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chenyann · 2 years ago
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Shine you crazy star!!
Jack howl
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Rumor:Seems like you need help decorating the Christmas tree you won't mind if Jack helps right? Rumor warning:fluff,sfw,gn!reader,pining,maybe ooc(?) and possible grammer errors. Keys:734 Ads:I'm so sorry for the delay i know I'm a few days late and ive been skipping days. I've been really sick lately. Me and my personal doctor has been trying to figure out what's wrong with me and if it's serious. I'm trying to get back on schedule with this event. This may possibly be ooc bc I can't write jack for shit. I need more time to analyze his character so I can try and write better for him.[Event list here]
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This concept was actually inspired by my cati that I decorated this year as a Christmas tree.
Jack was just minding his business until he spotted you. There was a big box in your hands and you explained that Crowley finally gave in and got you a Christmas tree.
You then proceed to ask if he could help since you know very well that you won't be able to do it alone.(also bc grim has no thumbs and is practically just supporting on the sidelines while eating cookies) and ofc he says yes because you're his crush.
Now here yall are. In the middle of ramshackles living room just putting down boxes and putting popcorn on a string.
Asks why yall have to put popcorn on a string. Also keeps grim from eating it.
Jack was the one who mainly set up the tree. Because he didn't want you accidentally hurting yourself. (Not like he will admit it though) Meanwhile the ramshackle ghosts decorated the walls, banisters and outside.
Compliments the ornaments that Crowley gave you. Most of them were broken but some were very beautiful and in good condition. Also grim ate the candy canes so yall have none to put up.
He would break at least one thing by mistake, would apologize so much for it too°( T^T )°○°
-For the short y/ns
If you can't reach the top to put up the star, ask Jack to pick you up. Don't worry he will do it. If you are very light he will ask if you've been eating enough.
-For the tall y/ns
Put some tinsel in the middle of his ears, trust me that shit kind hard to get off. Do it because his ears will flatten and it looks really cute. 
Finally as yall put the star on and lit up the lights a wave of relief fell over yall.He felt so accomplished, a smile was on your face so he presumed you felt like that too. But the longer he looked at you the more features he took in, your rosy cheeks, the pink tinted on your nose, how your eyes would avoid him. Did he make you mad? Did he offend you? He didn't want to ruin his chance just because he did something to offend you. "Hey..did I do something?" What…..?
You were confused. Did you upset him by mistake!? “No…?” 
Listen, I won't explain how relieved he is. He will drop dead before he actually says how he really feels when you reassure him. He wants to convince himself that you only see him as a friend, that y'all are nothing more but friends. But he seems to be very clueless about how you feel. He just assumed you were mad at him, instead of taking the possibility that you were nervous. Jack watches as you sit on the couch admiring yalls hard work. You pat the seat signaling for him to sit with you, “doesn't it look nice.” you said.
Jack just hums while looking at the tree, “The star looks a bit dim” now that you're looking, it does seem a bit dim. Walking over to the boxes of decorations you look through it and come across a light bulb. “Hey Jack, can you help me put in a new light bulb?” Jack said yes bc he is nice (and cuz he is a simp) He was a little confused on what he has to do, that was until you asked him to pick you up. He picks you up and tries to avoid accidentally touching you in inappropriate places. But while you were changing the bulb something blew up causing Jack to accidentally drop you-
Jack's first reaction was checking If you were okay. Then his next one was apologizing for dropping you and helping you up. His last reaction is why all the lights are out. “Oh no.. I think we caused a black out.” You muttered as you looked out the window, yep all the lights were out. “I think it's best you stay here til morning jack.” he tries to refuse but you kept making valid points. After he agreed you said you will make some hot chocolate and prepare a bed for him, going into the kitchen you turn to ghost A and hand him a few thusmarks. “Thanks for helping me out”
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0risha · 3 years ago
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Hii! I love both your writing but also your vibes too!<3
May I request a timestamp with a gnreader and baji with the song "in your arms" by Sunbeam Sound Machine at midnight? (fluff if it's possible)
Also thank u so much for accepting my request, have a good day/night and take care!<33
「 1:40 PM + IN YOUR ARMS 」
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tags... canon divergence (baji is alive and well yawl) fluff, two besties who are dumb and in love, gender neutral reader, slight spoilers??
note... hey love thank you for your kind words and ofc thank you for requesting!! you didn't specify a time so I just made one from the top of my head!! I hope you like <33
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he'd shown up at your doorstep with a neatly pressed suit in his hand and a fanged smile.
"i'm here to get ready for pah's wedding." he'd stated matter-of-factly before stepping through your door without a care in the world. you followed behind with little to no protest — nothing could ever become between baji and his stubbornness.
and now he's staring daggers into your soul as you drape a navy blue tie around his neck. he smells different, like sweet-smelling soap — it's nothing like his usual fresh, clean scent of pine.
you shake your head, choosing to focus on the task beforehand: cross the wide part of the tie over the narrow head, turn the wide—
"you're doing it wrong." he mutters lowly, but he's so close that you can almost feel his voice deep in your chest.
his hand brushes past yours (you ignore the skip of your heart) and takes a hold of the far end. before you can blink, he's centering the knot on his chest with an accomplished smile.
you squint then frown. his smile widens even more. "why'd you ask me to help if you already knew how to tie your own damn tie?" you throw your hands up exasperatedly then scurry away to check the clock.
twenty minutes left.
"kei, how do i look?" you question, voice hopeful as you straighten your back and flatten the front of your attire. you pause when you meet his eyes. he's looking at you through his lashes and you hate how your face floods with heat.
"you look great." he steps forward, slinking an arm around your waist as he interlocks your gaze with his. his long hair tickles the apple of your cheeks.
you suck in a breath, not having the heart to turn away and break your 'stare-off'. you're hyper aware of the heat that seems to seep from his body into your shirt as he adds on, "more than great."
"thank you, kei." not sure what to do with your hands, you decide to fiddle with his tie. you hope he can't hear the erratic thumps of your heart. "you look good too."
it looks like he's about to say something in response but the ring of his phone cuts him off. you both part —now snapped back into reality.
"can you get that for me?" he points to his phone on your nightstand, refusing to meet your eyes.
"sure." you cough before reaching for his phone and sliding accept. chifuyu. you don't know whether to be annoyed or glad that he'd unconsciously ruined the 'moment' between you both.
placing a hand on your hip, you put the phone on speaker. "hello? fuyu, are you—"
"did you ask (name) to be your date yet?" you turn to baji with raised eyebrows. you would've taken the idea of being his date as a normal thing if it wasn't for the scarlet color on the apple of his cheeks.
"no, he didn't." the line goes silent.
"oh, well then... baji, uhm, if you can hear me i'm– i'm... deeply sorry." the line cuts before any further words can be exchanged.
"well..." baji rubs his neck with a bashful look, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.
you bite down on your bottom lip while your mind toys with your next words. "is the offer still standing?"
"huh?" his eyes go wide.
you ignore the small voices of skepticism and worry, only choosing to amplify ones of courage. "is the offer to be your date still standing."
he straightens his back, a look of fondness painting his features. "yes, yes it is."
you smile so wide, it almost hurts. "okay, let's go."
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GENERAL TAGLIST / FORM
@crapimahuman @dukina @princess-in-flowers @astraea-essie @italyhrry @zeyyackerman @royalelusts @neavil @g0joluvrrr @izvana @megurulvr @katsumiiii @sscarchiyo (if I forgot you, let me know!)
TOKYO REVENGERS TAGLIST / FORM
@milliumizoomi @hood-nami @reelogy @beezebub @myhoodacademia @iheartgirl @akisssnigga @k0benii @lilies-and-rosies @luvmiaa @kitsco  @lvlydray @ojirominaj @junityy (if I forgot you, let me know!)
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cocastyle · 5 years ago
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First of Many
Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader
Word Count - 1,849
A/N - ahhh Merry Christmas everybody!! I hope you all get everything you wanted and that you have an amazing day! I thought I would try and put up another Christmas one shot so here’s one for Bill since you all know I love Bill! Bill will be a little aged up in this one, so think like just out of college or in their last year of college for this one :) I hope you all like it and merry Christmas!
Request - hi!!! i absolutely love your writing, especially the way you write for bill denbrough! I was wondering if you could do a bill x reader set during christmas (if you have time ofc). @wispyparker
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“Y/N," a voice whispered softly into the sleeping girl's ear before she felt someone's fingers dance across her cheek as they tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come on. Wake up."
Y/N let out a small whine and nuzzled further into her pillow. This made the person laugh softly before they said, "Come on, Y/N. You don't w-w-want to miss Christmas d-d-do you?"
This caused the girl to furrow her eyebrows. "What-?" she began, but then the realization of what day it was hit her so hard that she was sitting up so fast that her head collided with the head of the person who had been waking her up.
"Shit," Y/N muttered as she put a hand to her forehead. She blinked her eyes a few times before lifting her gaze to lock on the person who was sitting on the bed in front of her, also holding their forehead. "Bill," Y/N breathed out, an apologetic smile on her face as she realized she had just head butted her boyfriend.
Y/N couldn’t stop herself from letting her eyes flicker over the boy in front of her. He was wearing the matching Christmas pajamas the two had gotten the previous week and even had a Santa hat on top of his head, his brown hair peaking n out in the front and over his eyes which he was quick to move out of the way. He was gorgeous and Y/N couldn’t stop herself from admiring him.
As if sensing her stare, she was met with a stunning pair of brown eyes as he turned his head to look at her, a small chuckle leaving his mouth as he said, "M-M-Merry Christmas to you too."
Y/N instantly blushed before reaching over to hug the boy. "I'm sorry," she whispered only earning another chuckle from Bill as he hugged her back and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"It's okay. You d-d-didn't do it on purpose," Bill laughed as he gave the girl a squeeze and pulled away. "Now that we're b-b-both awake, why don't we-"
"Presents!" Y/N suddenly exclaimed while Bill chuckled and nodded his head. The girl grinned widely and was quick to get out of their shared bed, her hand grabbing onto Bill's before she dragged him out of their room and through their apartment. They had made it to their living room in no time and Y/N couldn't help but squeal and shake Bill's arm excitedly at the sight of their tree.
Christmas had always been Y/N's favorite holiday since they were kids and Bill knew that. And since this was the first Christmas they would be spending alone together in their new apartment, Bill had decided to go all out and had decorated the place just a little more early that morning so that he could surprise the girl.
The tree which had only had a few ornaments before Y/N had gone to sleep the night before now had ribbons strung around it and more ornaments than Y/N could count. Above their fireplace was a Christmas garland that Bill had found at the store and two stockings with their first initial were hanging from the mantle filled to the brim with goodies.
Under the tree was a beautiful white tree skirt as well as more presents than Y/N had been expecting which Bill quickly explained contained both the presents they had gotten each other and presents from family that they had shipped and had arrived the day before.
Y/N had never seen something more beautiful and she smiled before turning to look at Bill. But it was in that moment that she realized she had seen nothing more beautiful. For seeing Bill standing there, rosy cheeks and a Santa hat on top of his head as he smiled down at the girl with pure joy lighting his features, that was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Y/N couldn't stop herself from leaning forward and grabbing the boy's face, pulling him closer to her so that she could kiss him. Bill didn't object and when Y/N had pulled away, his face was even redder than before while he just stared at her with pure love and adoration.
"L-L-Let's open presents," Bill stuttered out, squeezing the girl's hand lightly and earning a small laugh from Y/N before she was pulling him down onto the ground.
They spent the next twenty minutes sorting out the presents and opening up the ones that had been from family and friends as well as their stockings. That left a few gifts the two had gotten from each other.
Y/N had gotten Bill a few new art things she knew he had been eyeing for a while as well as a memory book that she had put together that held pictures of the two of them starting from when they were young and merely friends to now, little ticket stubs from dates, and little notes that she had written after each big event of their life, one of them being something she had written after their first date about how she knew he was going to be the one.
Bill teared up as he flipped through the book before he pulled the girl into his arms, instantly showering her in kisses while she laughed in his arms. He had never loved anything or anyone more than he loved Y/N and the book was definitely his most treasured possession now.
Next came Y/N's turn to open gifts and Bill had gotten her a necklace that held their initials inside a heart with the date of their first date on the back, a book she had been wanting for a while now, and the movie Ghostbusters since that was one of her favorite movies at the moment. Y/N grinned once she was done and was quick to kiss the boy on the cheek, his face going red as he looked down at the girl lovingly.
It was in that moment that Bill seemed to remember something and he let out a loud gasp before quickly getting up and saying, "Hold on. There's one m-m-more thing."
Before Y/N could question the boy, he had disappeared back towards their bedroom. He returned moments later with a perfectly wrapped box in hand and smiled warmly before handing it to the girl, quickly taking his spot next to her side once again as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Y/N gave the boy a curious look before unwrapping the box in her hands. She opened the box slowly before letting out a small gasp at the sight of the beautiful ornament on the inside. It was a simple white ornament with what looked to be like an imprint of a key with the words ‘our first apartment’ and then their names and the date beside it.
Y/N looked to the boy with wide eyes and Bill smiled slightly before gently taking the ornament out of the box and saying, “It’s an imprint of our k-k-key. I thought it w-w-was worth remembering one of our firsts together. Th-Th-Then we’ll be able to get more later on for like our first house or l-l-like our first Christmas married or. . .”
Bill trailed off at that, his eyes widening as he realized what he had just said but Y/N merely smiled at the boy, tears filling her eyes as she whispered, “I love it. I love you, Bill Denbrough. And I can’t wait to celebrate many more firsts together.”
Bill’s eyes flickered over her face as his smile returned, the boy leaning forward and gently brushing his lips against her own before she put her hand up to his neck and pulled him into the kiss. They pulled away slightly so that Bill could whisper back, “I love you too, Y/N.” This made the girl smile before she kissed the boy again.
They didn’t kiss long because Y/N was too excited to put the ornament on the tree, but Bill didn’t object, the smile on Y/N’s face as she dragged him up onto his feet being enough to make his heart burst with joy.
Bill handed the ornament to the girl and she took it before hanging it up on the tree, the two then taking a step back to look at it while Bill wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and pulled her close to him. Y/N hugged Bill from the side and the two looked at the ornament for a second longer before looking to each other.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” Bill whispered, his eyes flickering over her face as he smiled down at her.
“Merry Christmas, Bill,” Y/N whispered back before Bill leaned down to kiss her forehead.
He then pulled away and went over to their stockings before pulling out the pair of fuzzy socks they had gotten. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Y/N grinned and took her socks, the two quickly putting them on before Bill ran over to their radio and put on a station playing Christmas music. Before they knew it the two were sliding across their wooden floors, laughing and singing along to Christmas music as they just enjoyed being with each other.
Bill and Y/N had never had so much fun and slid across the floor together, every now and then falling to the ground in a pile of laughter. It was when Jingle Bell Rock came in that the two decided to have a dancing contest, but they got so in to it that they ended up closing their eyes and accidentally sliding into each other.
This made the two bump into each other, accidentally kissing each other and surprising the two. Y/N instantly blushed, her eyes wide. She didn’t know why she got so flustered by that seeing as she had kissed Bill plenty of times before, but she died
Bill on the other hand didn’t seem to be fazed at all and merely shrugged before putting both of his hands on the sides of Y/N’s face and kissing her passionately before turning and sliding away again, continuing with his dancing.
It took a minute for Y/N to even open her eyes after that and she knew that her face had to be bright red after what had just happened. She let her eyes flicker over to Bill who was still dancing around like the goofy idiot that he was and Y/N couldn’t help but smile before she joined in.
It was by far the best Christmas either of them had ever had and, based on the small box hiding in Bill’s pocket that he would show to her later when he popped the question, there would be plenty more Christmases together to come.
* * *
Permanent Tag List
@marvelismylifffe @roboturtle16 @purplelittlepup @amberkay284 @blogforhoes @artlovingbre @bitch-imma-head-out @the-story-of-the-tucks
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chelsfic · 5 years ago
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Chapter 6 - Inherited - Dracula/OFC - Dracula (2020) fanfic
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Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Summary: Emilie makes her decision and has a steamy reunion with the Count.
A/N: Smut here! Come get your smut! There is also a significant amount of blood drinking. I want to say thank you so much to all who have read, commented, reblogged and recommended this fic! I’m overwhelmed by my kind and thoughtful readers!
As always, if you’d like to be tagged in updates just let me know!
***
Emilie tugged at the high collar of her Sunday dress and shifted self-consciously in the pew. Her younger sister, Anna, shot her a questioning look to which she merely shook her head in reply. Emilie usually took solace in the weekly sermon but this Sunday she was restless and incapable of attending to the Reverend’s words. 
Her nerves tingled and her senses were aflame. The light streaming through the stained glass window behind the pulpit was nearly blinding in its intensity. Emilie could taste the colors on her tongue, the sweet, tart reds and fresh, watery blues. The wood grain of the pew beneath her hands was distracting as well. She felt it vibrating with life and saw, in her mind’s eye, the rough bark and shuddering leaves of the tree from which it came. And there was the phantom taste of Vlad’s blood filling her mouth. She knew, without knowing how, that he’d given her this new power, these sharpened senses. Was this how he always experienced the world? It was overwhelming. Emilie closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the pew to ground herself.
It did little to help. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Lucy Steele’s bright eyes go dull with death, the shocking splash of blood painting the side of her neck. She heard the sharp, horrifying crunch of the girl’s vertebrae snapping. And she saw Vlad, her beloved Count, eyes red with menace and blood dripping from his razor sharp teeth. How could she love such a man, such a creature? For love him she did. She could admit that here, in the house of God where she must be true to herself. 
Maybe she was selfish but she found that she couldn’t forget his loving caress, the gentle brush of his fingers over her skin. She recalled his words, You have nothing to fear from me. How could she turn her heart against such a man? A man so magnificent, with powers beyond her imagining, who somehow–impossibly–wanted her? The answer came from within: a voice, perhaps her own or perhaps a guardian angel’s, which rang out in her mind, You will not turn away from him.
She did not know where this path would lead. Perhaps one day it would be she hanging limp in his arms and beaming up at his darling face, gratified to give her life to feed him. Or…or perhaps she’d stand by his side, no longer a servant but an equal with marvelous powers of her own. She did not know if such a thing were possible but she felt in her bones that she was fated to give herself over to him. The decision, once made, lifted a burden from her chest and she smiled up at the pulpit. Lit from within by the grace of her own certainty that God would not lead her to the Count if He did not wish for them to be together.
It never occurred to her to consider her love of the Count as a test from God. No god could be so cruel.
***
“Now, my sweet girl, tell me how things are going up at Carfax and don’t try to sugarcoat things. I’m your mother and I can tell when you’re lying. Are you alright up there by yourself with the Count?” Mrs. Andrews patted her eldest daughter’s hand across the dinner table and watched her with concern. Her poor health had kept her from ever personally serving Count Dracula, but she knew his nature as well as her mother had and she feared for Emilie.
“Mama,” Emilie soothed in a voice infused with false confidence, “you don’t need to worry about me. The Count is very solicitous for my comfort. I’m in no danger from him…really.”
Mrs. Andrews held her gaze for a long moment and Emilie sensed that her mother did not quite believe her, but she soon lowered her eyes and let the moment pass. After all–was there really a point in forcing the topic? Their family had served Count Dracula for a hundred years. They’d kept the secret of his long life and dark appetites in exchange for protection and financial security. None of them could rescind the deal now. And in truth, Emilie did look remarkably well. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks rosy with a healthy glow. Mrs. Andrews set her worries aside and proceeded to catch her daughter up on all the village goings on of the previous week.
***
It was dark by the time the wagon rolled to a stop by the Abbey’s servants’ entrance. Emilie hopped off the back and thanked Mr. Thomas for the ride. He brought her back each Sunday along with the weekly grocery delivery. It was convenient for Emilie and Mr. Thomas had been shameless flirting with Mrs. Andrews for years, so he didn’t mind the extra weight in the wagon if it put him in the widow’s good graces.
“Have a good week, Miss Emilie!” he called as she dashed off to the servants’ door and disappeared inside. 
She was eager to see her Count. Her mind whirled with questions as she climbed the staircase to the Abbey’s first floor. How would he react when he saw her and knew of her decision to return to him? Would he kiss her again? Embrace her? Would he dip his head into the crook of her neck and bite her as he had Miss Lucy? 
She found him in his study, a massive room with vaulted ceilings and walls lined with books. He sat in a wing back chair before the fire. Emilie stood in the doorway watching him. She could see only the side of his pale face, his lovely, thick hair and his hand dangling over the armrest, holding a glass goblet filled with something rich, dark and red.
She strode forward, discarding the small drawstring bag she’d carried with her into town and whirling round the chair to present herself before him. She knelt between his knees, a supplicant before her god, and looked up at him with hope and affection glowing in her features. She longed for comfort, for a confirmation that she’d made the right decision. 
She reached out shyly and took one of his hands in her own, pressing it to her cheek and closing her eyes, reveling in the contact.
“My…Vlad,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek into his palm like a cat demanding affection. “I’ve come back to you.”
Dracula smiled down at her, setting the goblet on a small table beside the chair and reaching forward to stroke both hands through her hair, cupping her upturned face. 
“My Emilie,” he responded with a playful lilt to his voice, mirroring her word choice. “You’ve made me very happy.”
And then he was pushing her backward and onto the plush hearthrug. He followed her onto the floor caging her body with his arms and legs and bending down to press his lips to hers in a fevered kiss. His clawed hands strayed over the bodice of her conservative dress, pushing under the collar and stroking her delicate neck, the tops of her breasts. Emilie mewled in pleasure and arched her back, giving him the access he needed to reach around and begin popping open the buttons that ran down her spine holding the frock in place. 
When he’d reached the final button he sat back, kneeling between her wantonly spread legs and shoved the dress material down toward her waist. She wiggled to assist him and she was soon laying before him in nothing but her stockings and thin muslin petticoat. Her breasts were exposed, glowing in the orange light of the fire and she saw Vlad’s eyes focus on them as they heaved with her gasping breath. He reached out a hand and drew a wickedly sharp nail around her areola, flicking the nipple and eliciting a thrill of panicked pleasure from the debauched girl beneath him. Emilie reeled at the sensation even as she feared the sharp touch of his nails wounding her sensitive flesh.
“Be…” she gasped, trembling as he shifted his attention to her other breast, “…careful….please.”
Vlad smirked and let out an amused chuckle. He flattened his palm over her breast and dragged the calloused skin against her hardened nipple. Emilie shrieked in pleasure and arched into the touch. 
“Don’t worry, my darling creature.”
The Count made quick work of his own clothes, tossing them into a heap on the armchair before turning back to face her, naked and glorious in his ferocious lust. He grabbed the waist of her petticoat and ripped it from her body. Emilie gazed up at him in adoration. She’d never seen a naked man before and she was too shy to let her eyes stray downward at first. Instead she raked her gaze over his broad shoulders, his dark-haired chest and flat stomach. He took satisfaction in letting her look, pausing to let her complete her perusal. He quirked his lips as her gaze finally lowered to take in the impressive length of pulsing manhood that jutted from between his legs. A shadow of trepidation crossed her face and Dracula determined immediately to sooth it away. He crawled up her naked body and looked deep into her eyes.
“I will be so careful with you, Emilie. Do you trust me?” his voice was husky with lust but his words were sincere. 
Emilie reached up to cup her hand over his cheek and nodded shyly, “I trust you, Vlad.”
He touched her then, like he had days ago in his bedroom. His fingers slid over her sensitive core and Emilie ached with longing and pleasure. She buried her face in his neck and keened into his skin, begging and begging him though she couldn’t say for certain what she wanted.
Vlad smiled and licked his hot tongue along her neck from jaw to shoulder, “You’re a needy thing aren’t you, little one?”
He continued stroking her, savoring her little grunts and moans. She finally came with a thready cry and only then did he shift his hips between her legs and align himself with her opening. She felt the tantalizing pressure of his length pressing against her and then slowly, slowly entering. It hurt at first. Emilie’s muscles went rigid at the intrusion and her face scrunched up in pain. Dracula stilled his movement and looked down at her, laying soft kisses over her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids.
“Look at me, darling,” he whispered, waiting until she’d opened her eyes to continue. “Relax.”
The last word was said with the barest trace of suggestion and Emilie felt the tension immediately flow out of her muscles. Dracula started up again, thrusting his hips with masterful control and holding her face between his palms as he did so. He kept eye contact with her as the pain slowly faded and her belly began to heat with pleasure once more. He bit his lip and arched his back. His control slipped and he began rocking into her with more force, his tempo stuttering into ragged thrusts until he finally shouted his release and dove his face into the crook of her neck to bite down as his cock shuddered and jolted within her.
The sudden sting as his fangs pierced her skin was immediately followed by a rush of pleasure that pushed her over the edge again. Dracula licked, sucked and kissed her bloodied neck, drawing out more blood from her than he had before. She squirmed and moaned beneath him, riding waves of pleasure even as her head spun from the blood loss. Too soon he pulled away, his lips and chin were stained crimson. With a wicked grin he dipped his mouth to hers and pushed his tongue inside. Emilie tasted her own blood on his lips, his tongue. She twined her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there, wishing to prolong the kiss forever. Eventually he pulled away panting with passion and blood lust. 
“Now you know how sweet you taste, my darling girl,” he said, dipping his finger into the blood at her neck and smearing it over her mouth. Emilie stuck out her tongue and licked his finger as her eyes fluttered shut. “Oh, dear Emilie, you’re weak aren’t you?”
Without waiting for an answer he brought his finger to the base of his own neck and cut a two inch slit. Blood poured from the wound and he dipped down, baring his neck to her and pressing the cut against her lips. Emilie latched on immediately. She drank the blood he offered, reveling in the idea of her blood rushing through his veins even as she drank from him. She felt the dizziness of only a moment before pass and a wave of energy and strength coursed through her. Her Count was nourishing her with his essence, feeding her just as she had fed him. 
He pulled away before she could take too much, pinching the would closed and laying back on the floor beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close to his side, stroking her hair and whispering words of praise into her temple as he laid kisses along the top of her head. Emilie’s eyes grew heavier and heavier until she finally fell asleep, wrapped in her beloved’s arms and warmed by the snug fire in the hearth. They looked like a pair of pagan lovers: nude, covered in blood and skin aglow in the firelight. 
Dracula looked down at her sleeping face and whispered, “You really are remarkable, Emilie. You’ll be my perfect bride.”
Note: in case you're wondering this exchange of blood won't be enough to turn Emilie. Drac is just looking to the future and he's establishing a blood bond with her as well as strengthening her for the eventual change.
Tags:
@charlesdances​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @just-mimii @haleyea @dracula-s-bride @irrelevantwriter @felicityofbakerstreet
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vanderlindemangofarm · 5 years ago
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Embers (Black Belle)
Well, I finally managed to finish this. I found the dialogue quite challenging, and I do hope it feels believable. I also hope that this is in-character for Belle, given how little screen time she has in the game. It’s been a bit of a journey, and I won’t lie, a lot of this hit home in a big way for me so I’m nervous about posting it. But I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
I’m dedicating this to my lovely friend @anniesburg 💕 
Summary: After over two decades on the run, Maybelle “Black Belle” Elizabeth Colter reunites with an old flame, Tess. Spending one last night together for old times sake seemed like such a good idea, but tensions need to be addressed, and the passing of time accepted. 
Category: Angst. Pretty much just pure angst.  
Warnings: None per se, but an overall theme of a relationship that couldn’t work out partially due to homophobia. If you think it may upset you, please don’t read. 
Pairing: Black Belle x OFC 
Word count: 1,995
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Twenty years. Twenty goddamn years. How was she here again? How had it still come to this?
Valentine hadn’t changed all that much. She guessed it never would, no need.  
She envied her fellow punters, toppling over each other, dancing, singing, clenching their fists and grabbing at air. The saloon felt like thick treacle – stifling. This is why she avoided them these days. Too many people, and not a brain cell between them. Maybelle stifled a bitter snort of laughter by taking a gulp of whiskey. She never noticed the burn of liquor anymore, which was a crying shame. This evening had an edge that she could really do with taking off.
She had sent the letter several weeks prior and although she hadn’t expected a reply, it would still have been a welcome surprise. Never in her years would she ever have thought she’d miss having a permanent address for the sake of correspondence but here she was, wondering if an envelope containing a response – that distinctive ivory paper that smelled faintly of lavender – was drifting the Heartlands, unable to find her. More to the point, had her original letter ever reached its destination? Twenty years was a long-ass time to expect someone stay living in one place, especially around these parts.
Maybelle shifted in her seat, deciding to attribute the cramps in her stomach to the strange looking stew she had consumed a few hours ago and not to the building sensation of shame. She’d already waited an hour, how much longer was she expected to just sit here like some heartbroken girl? No, this had all been a terrible mistake, and a foolish idea to begin with. She sighed, downed the rest of her drink, adjusted her hat and stood up to leave.
And then she saw her.
Tess was still beautiful, dressed all in black with a shawl around her shoulders and her red hair, now flecked with grey, tumbling out of its bun and across her face. The two women moved towards each other in silence, the din of the drunkards and the repetitious pitter-patter of the piano now rendered irrelevant. Maybelle swallowed dryly, hating herself for how her hands were trembling. Tess was shaking her head slowly, looking Maybelle up and down as if she could scarcely believe she was real, yet alone standing here.
“May?”
Maybelle smiled weakly, and with nothing else to be done the two women embraced. It was a strange embrace – not all there, like a gentle breeze, and over just as quickly. They paused when their faces were inches apart, breath catching as they stole a few precious seconds to take in each other’s features, realising at the same time that the saloon was the last place they wanted to be.
“So, you got my letter?” Maybelle asked lightly.
“Yes.”
Silence ensued, unbearable now against the noise of the saloon. Maybelle felt hot, and small, like she was being forced into a corner and kept there like a little mouse. She felt a desperate longing that had been stuffed to the back of her mind, perhaps even to the back of her soul, hidden and forgotten like a dusty trinket in a locked box. For a fleeting moment, she tried to imagine that nothing had changed. Tess looked her in the eye, tried to read her the way she always did.
“May?…I…I’ve got us a room.” she struggled, her lace-clad hands clasped in front of her. Maybelle felt her stomach twist with conflict.
“A room?”
“Yes, over at the Saints. I…well, you must understand…”
“Last I heard you had a place not far from here.” Maybelle countered, knowing she was pushing all the right buttons but unable to stop herself. Tess sighed heavily.
“May, I can’t. You know I can’t. Not…not anymore. Too many people round there who know me, and no matter how laughable that likeness on your posters is, they sure as hell might recognise you on top of it all. Look, I ain’t expecting nothing. I just…I just thought it’d be better than…than this.”
She gestured broadly to the surroundings. Maybelle raised an eyebrow, considering the predicament. A room at the Saints seemed maliciously ironic, but she supposed that after all these years they might as well start treating their relationship for what it was. After a moment, she nodded. Tess turned on her heel and marched through the saloon doors, gesturing for Maybelle to follow her.
The Saints Hotel was everything it needed to be – quiet enough for the illusion of peace, busy enough to not be noticed. As Tess stoked the fire in her small room overlooking the street, Maybelle took off her hat and placed it on the back of the door. Tess chuckled.
“Since when did you get so house-proud?”
Maybelle scoffed, taking a slightly crushed cigarette out of her coat pocket and lighting up. The smoke hit the back of her throat with a frustrating rawness, and she retched slightly.
“May, put that out.”
“No, I think I’ll keep it lit, thank you kindly.”
“May…”
She hadn’t realised how close Tess had moved, her face once again inches from hers. She noticed the rosiness of her lips and the laugher lines that weren’t there before. The small mole just above her left eyebrow. The way she didn’t flinch when Maybelle exhaled her smoke so slowly over her face, but instead took the cigarette from her hand and stubbed it out on the mantlepiece.
Maybelle removed her coat, unbuckled her belt, feeling completely exposed even in her skirt and blouse. Tess watched her throw the rest of her clothes and undergarments on the floor, her eyes hooded and hungry, as she undid the buttons of her own dress and slid the material down her body.
The two women stood together, bare and unrecoiling in the firelight. Maybelle closed her eyes and for a moment it was as if nothing had changed. She could still feel the warmth from the fire on her skin, the distant chatter of the street below, and sensation in her stomach that simmered deliciously with anticipation. She opened her eyes again and looked down at her body. It was still hers, undoubtedly. The scar on her left knee from the first time she fell off a horse. A bruise here, a burn there, all inevitable she thought. But now she saw the way Tess took her in. The way her eyes glimmered with what could have been pity. And she suddenly felt barer than she had ever been in her life, so painfully conscious of the dimples in her flesh and the crinkled skin, her coarse hands and battered fingers. The brief surge of quiet contempt that she felt for herself in that moment was enough to leave her reeling.
“Do I really look so god-awful, Tess?” she uttered in barely more than a whisper. Tess moved in closer, her hands hovering by Maybelle’s hips and shaking her head.
“You could have come and found me, May. It needn’t have got so bad.”
Maybelle jerked her face up to glare. Tess’s eyes shone the way that they always did, like deep pools of water reflecting the autumn leaves.
“Needn’t have got so bad? Who was it that turned me away?”
“I didn’t turn you away. I begged you to stay with me years before that. And then…and then suddenly you just turned up again. And expected me to act like it all happened yesterday? Like I was wrong for…”
“For what?”
Tess took a deep breath.
“Wrong for learning to get along without you.”
“Well, sugar, it seemed you did a pretty fine job of it.”
“You know what? I did! My Abel was always sweet on me. Sweeter than you ever was. Sweeter than all of your goddamn husbands, I’d wager, however many you managed to rack up. He was good. He was kind.”
“And now he’s cold in the ground and here you are.”
The wood of the fire crackled and snapped, making both women jump. Their eyes darted over each other, realising how close their bodies were and how fast their hearts were beating. Tess sighed again, but with quiet exhaustion.
“Yes. Here I am.”
She shut her eyes and pressed her forehead to Maybelle’s. Their hands still drifted over one another, never still for long enough to be held. Maybelle cleared her throat.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to stay with you. It was just the way things were. The way things still are.”
Her breath caught as she felt Tess’s hand rest gently on the back of her neck, teasing her hair out of its usual style so it fell across her back and shoulders in thick, dark waves.
“And I thought…I thought you were better off with me gone. What with the way we left things…”
Her hands gripped onto Tess’s waist now.
“…but when I heard you was on your own again, I don’t know, I…”
Their lips met for the briefest whisper, soft and uncertain. They stood, stagnant in the moment, their eyelashes fluttering against each other. Maybelle felt frozen, rooted.
Tess took a step backwards, her body illuminated by the firelight.
“Why did you write to me, May?”
Maybelle shook her head, finding all at once how few answers she had, how poorly she had prepared for this. Colour rushed to her cheeks and she covered her face to hide the brutal sobs that were now erupting from her lips.
“Damnit,” she croaked, squeezing her eyes shut, hating the sting of tears. “Damnit!”
Tess didn’t hold her or say anything at all. She watched her cry, her own tears now falling freely down her cheeks and onto the wooden floor of the hotel room. After a few minutes she gathered herself, moving to the bed and pulling back the covers. She turned towards Maybelle again, and held out her hand.
“Nothing has to happen. Not even sure I want it to. But…do you think the world can wait until morning?”
Maybelle hesitated, but only for a moment. She went to Tess, sliding into the bed next to her. They laid on their backs, staring at the way the firelight danced across the ceiling like careless lovers enjoying their first dance. The blankets felt heavy and comforting across their skin. Tess rolled onto her side, and her delicate hand gently cupped Maybelle’s face, making her turn to look at her in return. Maybelle held her wrist, the last few tears seeping from her eyes and rolling down onto the pillow.
Twenty years. Twenty goddamn years.
“We could leave together tomorrow.”
Tess’s words pierced her heart like shards of ice.
“No, Tess, we couldn’t.”
“Let’s just pretend we could. Just for a little while. Just until morning.”
And Maybelle closed her eyes. For a little while, there were no wanted posters with her terrible likeness. The Colter Gang was unheard of. There had been no betrayals, no bloodshed outside of some friendly fisticuffs after a poker game. America still felt wild and vast and with the potential for anonymity. Her skin was smooth and untouched and unburnt, and her heart was raw and nothing like embers on a darkening fire. And in those odd, uneven hours before the dawn started breaking over Valentine, if Tess had asked one more time for Maybelle to leave with her, she might have said yes.
But here she was, dressing in the half-light, her movements gradual, stealing a glance at her sleeping love every few moments to check that she hadn’t woken her. Here she was, tucking the blankets up around Tess’s shoulders again and pausing to consider placing a kiss on her cheek, a parting gesture, a final indulgence, and then thinking better of it, putting that urge back into the locked box in the furthest reaches of her soul.
Yes, here she was. Riding out of Valentine and out of reach. Here she was again, again, again.
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winterisakiller · 6 years ago
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Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Nine
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Chapter: 9/19
Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.
Rating: T (for now)
Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.
This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username winterisakiller (sparkinside)
Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77
Previous Chapter
CHAPTER NINE
 With a growing sense of unease, Rosemary stared at Tom from across the table. His auburn hair was disheveled, the reason becoming all too obvious as he ran his hand through it yet again. His clothing was neat but beginning to show its wear, she could see a definite hole forming at the elbow of his jumper. She had smirked at his clothing choice, or his uniform as she’d come to think of it; dark blue jumper, dark jeans, and grey boots. It was simple and perfectly him. His glasses sat ever so slightly askew on his nose. He looked much as she’d come to expect him too. But she still couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that some about him was wrong…Well maybe not wrong, but off. 
A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that it must have to do with her. It was stupid and ridiculous but the thought simply wouldn’t dissipate. The idea that maybe, just maybe he’d sat and really thought about what was happening between them and decided, once more, that whatever it was wasn’t worth it. She attempted to mentally shake the thought away. He was here now, they were friends, everything was fine. And even if it wasn’t, there was little to be achieved by worrying. Like that’s ever stopped me…
“Rosie?”
She jumped at the sound of her name, her eyes quickly shooting up to lock on his as she was jolted back into the present. There was a definite mix of humor and concern in their depths. And yet there was something deeper in them that she could not place. “Hmm?”
Tom cocked his head slightly to the side seemingly studying her. She felt strange under his gaze.  “Are you alright?” 
Rosemary stifled the laugh that threatened to burst from her throat. Was she alright? “Yes, sorry.” She attempted to cover her embarrassment with a sip from her water. “My mind wandered away from me.” She paused again, looking up into his face again. “Are you alright?” 
Had she not been watching him so intently, Rosemary would have missed the way he flinched at the question. It was such a small action, so incredibly subtle, something so easy to miss. But she had seen it and was desperate to know just what it had meant. “Tom?” she queried, both anxious for and dreading his answer. 
Tom took a deep breath and offered her a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Her eyes widened and dread settled in her gut. Her face must have given her away because Tom was quick to add. “Please, don’t worry about it, Rosie. It’s alright, we’re alright. It’s something that I’m doing my best to work through.” He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I’m not trying to hide or keep anything from you; I just need time to work through this. And when I have, I promise you I will speak of it with you.” 
She wanted to believe him. To be able to take him at his word and know without a doubt that he would share whatever it was with her when he was ready. But the doubt was a difficult thing to shake, especially when Tom’s MO had always been evasion and followed swiftly by flight. He was trying though; she had to believe in that if nothing else. And if he was trying then she need to at least strive to do the same. Forcing a smile to her own face, she squeezed his hand in return. “Alright. I can accept that.” 
The smile the lighted his face this time seemed more genuine than its predecessor and that, in turn, eased some of the tension she’d been carrying. Neither spoke for several minutes. 
“Thank you,” Tom whispered, breaking the silence. His eyes were warm and sincere as he spoke. 
Rosemary looked at him in momentary confusion. 
He laughed softly and continued. “For giving me another chance; one I’m not sure I fully deserve…” he trailed off for a moment before appearing to gather himself. “Regardless, I’m grateful.” 
She stared at him, not quite sure how to respond. Her first thought was to tell him he was being ridiculous; they’d agreed to let it go and move forward, it was done. That she’d been given the same chance by him and if he felt he hadn’t earned his how could she have possibly earned her own? But that would spark a debate and would only hurt them both. Rosemary didn’t want that. There had been more than enough hurt between them. 
Instead, she offered him a smile and took his hand in hers once again. “I am too.” 
Momentary confusion colored his features then understanding dawned. He returned her smile, looked as though he wanted to challenge her meaning but seemed to think better of it and simply squeezed her hand in response. 
The café Tom had chosen was busy enough by lunch crowd standards but not overly so. It was calmer, more sedate than she’d expected and because of that Rosemary felt herself relax. Spending time in public with Tom was still strange and often left her feeling more than a little uneasy. It was silly, she knew, but it was a hard feeling to relinquish. She had been so used to before, when they would spend all of their time hidden away. There had been something to hide then, she’d reasoned. And now, perhaps, their friendship was somehow safer in public than when there had been more between them. Whatever the cause, she refused to let herself think on it more than was strictly necessary. Worrying over what she could not control would do her little good. It never had before. But still, it was easier said than done. 
“How was your meeting with Luke? And…Michael was it?” She asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them once again. 
“Yes. Michael, my agent here.” Tom hesitated for a moment before smiling continuing on, “Fairly well. We were finalizing a new project.” 
Rosemary’s eyebrow rose. “Oh now, care to share? Or is it a secret? I don’t want to get you in trouble.” But her curiosity had been well and truly peaked. And from the look on Tom’s face he knew it as well. 
A laugh fell from his lips, warm and joyous, and he shook his head. “No. No, it’s not a secret, per say, but I can’t speak about it in too much detail.” He paused and sipped his water. “If all goes according to plan I’ll be back on the London stage come late summer, early fall at the latest.” 
The smile that lit his eyes warmed Rosemary’s heart. He’d spoken often about how he enjoyed stage work and how he wished he could do more. He loved films, but he longed to stretch his legs on the boards once again. To throw himself into a character knowing that it was just him and the actors he shared the stage with; no editors, no reshoots, just an open and honest performance. And now it looked as if he would be able to do so again. She was utterly thrilled for him. 
“Tom,” she gushed, reaching out and taking his hand. She squeezed it in a rush of affection. “That is absolutely fantastic. I’m so happy for you.” 
He returned her smile and gently squeezed her hand back. “I cannot wait. It’s been far too long.” Tom paused and looked directly at Rosemary, hope and excitement blazing in his eyes. “You’ll have to come once we’ve opened.” 
Rosemary blushed softly and fought the warmth that threatened to overwhelm her. He’d asked her to come as a friend; for support, nothing more. She needed to get her head firmly back on lest it run away on her down a path that simply couldn’t be an option. “Just let me know when. I’d love to see you onstage.” 
Conversation ceased shortly thereafter brought on by the arrival of their respective meals. And for that Rosemary was secretly grateful. It gave her the chance to focus herself back into the present and work to relax once again. To stop her mind from wandering down the path of ‘what if?’ 
They ate in companionable silence occasionally commenting on their respective dishes and offering each other bits to try. It was wonderful, spending time with Tom like this. Just being able to sit and be with him. Once they had finished and the bill laid to the table, Tom quickly grabbed and settled it, waving off Rosemary’s protests. “I invited you, darling. I should pay.” 
She narrowed her eyes but acquiesced with a much grace as she could; fighting Tom on the matter was a futile effort and she damn well knew it. But that didn’t mean she was going to give in completely. “I’m covering next time, mind you.” Her gaze on his face was firm and serious. 
Tom smiled broadly at this. “Certainly.” His answering expression told her that the chances of him actually letting that happen were slim to none. She bristled slightly but quickly shook the feeling off. Tom didn’t mean anything by it other than simply wanting to treat her, she knew that. He was a giving person, especially for those he cared about. The idea that he cared for her warmed her heart in ways she dared not to think too closely on. 
Rosemary pointed a finger at him, “I mean it, Hiddleston.” 
Another hearty chuckle fell from his lips, “I know you do, Rosie.” He stood and tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. “Shall we?” She nodded, standing and hooking her bag over her left shoulder. Side by side they headed from the dining area of the café and towards the hallway that served as its main entrance. 
Tom turned to Rosie as they neared the door. “Are you up for a walk? I’m not quite ready for the afternoon to end.” He paused and a look of delayed concern crossed his brow. “I mean if you don’t have to rush back to the shop. Don’t let me keep you.” Rosie reached up and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. He smiled softly at her. 
Rosie smiled warmly back at Tom. She hadn’t wanted to part company with him either. Hanna had the shop well in hand and she knew that Jules had everything at the flagship location very much under control as well. There was no need to rush away. She nodded at him. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” She was about to open her mouth to ask where he wanted to go when Tom’s phone rang. 
With a sheepish smile, Tom fished his phone out of his pocket. “Luke,” he mouthed at her as he hit answer. “Hello, Luke…Whoa, slow down. What?” Tom’s brows narrowed in confusion and his expression grew grim the longer Luke talked. “What pictures? Luke, I have no bloody idea what you’re on about…Oh…” His voice died away. 
Rosemary watched in growing concern as Tom’s face went a shade lighter. She felt her own color fade as his words processed in her mind. Pictures? There were pictures? Of what? Of us? Where? How? It was abundantly clear that whatever the pictures were about they clearly were something neither he nor Luke were pleased about. Please not of us. Not if it makes him this angry. She couldn’t make out Luke’s words from where she stood but Tom’s expression coupled with the raised voice she could just barely hear spoke volumes. 
Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “No. That is not what bloody happened! I didn’t see any bleeding photographers! Yes dammit, I remember!” He paced around the small hallway, free hand jammed mercilessly in his pocket, and Rosemary could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He threw a hand up in exasperation and with an apologetic nod to Rosemary, headed back into the café. 
Several minutes passed and with it no sign of Tom. This couldn’t be good. Not by any stretch any imagination. Rosemary let out a soft sigh and wondered if maybe it would be better if she just left. She had no idea when or even if Tom would be coming back. And if he did that he would even want her there. The indecision that had faded almost to a dull murmur over the last hour came suddenly roaring back to life. Something had happened. Something that Luke was obviously up in arms about. Something that clearly unsettled and angered Tom. Something that very well may have to do with them. Maybe it was best if she simply left. 
With hesitant resolve, she metaphorically straightened her back, turned and headed for the door. “Rosie,” Tom’s voice called behind her, a wash of concern and barely concealed frustration. “Wait.” 
She paused and took a deep breath before turning to face him. “Is everything alright?” It was a stupid question. A very stupid question and she bloody well knew it. Of course he wasn’t alright. He had a set to his shoulders that belied as much even if his face hadn’t held tell-tale signs of strain and annoyance. 
“I’m fine.” His tone was terse and bordered very much on the edges of cold. She felt herself bristle automatically. “Are we done here?” He all but snapped as he gestured vaguely around at the empty hallway. 
Uncertainty warred with anger inside her. Rosemary didn’t know what had exactly had gotten him so up in arms but she knew damn well she didn’t have to take him lashing out at her over it. “Are we?” she challenged.
Tom paused, looking at her in confused annoyance, his shoulders tense. “And just what do you mean by that?” 
“You know what, on second thought I think I’m going to have to bow out on our walk. You obviously have something you need to work through and frankly I don’t feel like bearing the brunt of it until you do, if it’s all the same to you.” Rosemary didn’t bother to take in Tom’s reaction to her words, instead turning on her heel and walking out into the busy London sidewalk.
                                                       —
The door closed with a loud bang behind her and Rosemary threw herself backwards to lean heavily against it. Storming off as she’d done had been a mistake, that much had become abundantly clear on her journey back to the flat, but she knew that there was no way for her to take it back. She’d known Tom had been on edge, it would have been clear even to a blind man, but she hadn’t expected him to snap at her and she’d reacted, albeit poorly, in her own right. A right fine mess indeed. 
A soft ping from her left-hand side alerted her to a text message. Sliding herself down to the floor and settling firmly upon it, she pulled her purse to her and searched its recesses for her phone. It took several tries before she located it, hiding at the bottom of the bag. She flicked on the screen and saw one new message awaiting her. 
Hanna. 
‘So we’ve had a bit of a set back with our distributor. Said they didn’t get the last authorization form. Do you still have the scanned version in your email? I can’t find the original to save my life.’ 
Rosemary grumbled as she pulled herself back up to her feet and padded towards the couch. She picked up her laptop from its resting place on the coffee table and settled herself back against the worn cushions. While the device booted itself she fired off a quick response to Hanna. 
‘Not sure. I will check and get back to you.’ 
She dropped her phone onto the couch beside her and made quick work of logging herself into the computer. A few clicks brought open her email program and web browser. She scanned the contents of her sent folder and “Bingo,” she whispered, clicking open the message with attached authorization form. She grabbed her phone and let Hanna know that she had found said form and would be forwarding it onto her. 
A sigh fell from her lips. “Right, there’s that problem sorted.” She laughed softly. If only the others were that simple. She allowed her eyes to scan over the homepage her browser had defaulted to. Most of the ‘news’ items could barely be considered that but, occasionally, one or two could be more than a little amusing. So she hadn’t made any bother in changing it. 
One headline in particular grabbed at her attention. She sat frozen, mouse hovering over the ‘read more’ link, uncertain if she actually wanted to click it. Curiosity won out and without letting herself think further on it, she clicked the link and waited for the article and accompanying photographs to load. 
‘Trouble in Paradise for Secret Couple? 
Rumors have been flying around the last few months that the internet's boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston (38) has a secret love. While we're all sad to see him off the market by the looks of things there is already trouble in paradise. On Thursday things seemed to get heated in the park and we don't mean in the good way. Who is Tom's mysterious red-head and will she be sticking around?’ 
The short article was accompanied by several rather grainy, and obviously amateur, photographs. But the people in them were unmistakable to Rosemary, or honestly anyone who knew either of the subjects; Tom in his predictable black on black running gear and Jules, hair loose and whipping round in the wind with her all too familiar teal woolen coat wrapped tightly around her. Rosemary stared at the photos in stunned disbelief. Jules and Tom? A couple? The idea was so utterly ridiculous it was bloody near hysterical. And she did it out a short laugh then, at the absurdity of it all. 
What wasn’t funny, however, was the jolt of emotion that followed quickly on the heels of her laughter. Raw and confusing, she felt the sting of tears and a deep seated dread that settled near into the marrow of her bones. For fucks sake, why was she crying? There wasn’t the slightest scrap of truth to this story and she knew it; there hardly ever was. The likelihood of Jules ever being involved in any way with Tom was so astronomically low that it didn’t even bear thinking. And Tom was many things, but sneaking around behind her back with her best friend was not something she believed him capable of. 
That thought pulled her up short. Sneaking behind her back? Where the fuck had that come from? She and Tom were friends, and honestly just barely that at this juncture, there wasn’t anything between them that warranted sneaking around. They weren’t a couple. He was her friend and he could see or not see whomever he wanted. She had no say in the matter. And it wasn’t like he was actually seeing Jules…though she did wonder just what had led to their meeting in the first place. They didn’t speak to each other as far as she knew. And as much as Jules disliked Tom, Rosemary was certain she wouldn’t purposely seek him out. But the stubborn streak on her friend was near a mile long and hardly rational. 
Rosemary groaned and pushed her laptop beside her on the couch. God, she was being ridiculous; completely and utterly ridiculous. But that did little to silence the small voice in her head taunting her with memories of other tabloid articles and other photographs. Tom had never spoken of what had happened between him and his co-star but Rosemary hadn’t been blind. Something had happened between him and Natalie Billings, but how far it had gone she didn’t know. But it had happened. He hadn’t even been hers then and it had hurt like hell.
This is different, she told herself, rubbing her face with her hands in confused frustration. And it was completely different. This was Jules for god’s sake. Jules and Tom. Nothing whatsoever happened and you bloody well know it, she told herself with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. Then why do I feel so torn up? 
Torn up. That was exactly how she felt. Torn up. She couldn’t think of another way to put it. There was nothing to fret over and here she was wanting to cry and scream. Jealous, her mind hissed at her. You’re jealous and it’s eating you alive. 
A frustrated laugh tore from her throat. God, she was jealous. Irrationally, ridiculously jealous. It didn’t make any sense. Absolutely none. Why should she be jealous of something that didn’t exist? Because it could, her mind offered. Not with Jules. Never with Jules. But with someone else. The idea settled like a lead weight in her stomach. While Tom wasn’t seeing anyone as far as she knew that didn’t mean that would always be the case. At some point he wouldn’t be alone anymore. He would find someone that he could see himself leading a life with. Someone he’d want a family with. Someone that wasn’t her. It shouldn’t matter, she told herself. It doesn’t matter. But it did. 
She hated it. Hated how confused and hurt it made her. When she had allowed Tom back into her life, Rosemary hadn’t let herself think what it meant. What she’d wanted it to mean. He had always been important to her, it hadn’t matter how long it had been since they had last spoken, she always seemed to welcome him back into her life whether she’d meant to or not. She loved him, hadn’t ever stopped if she was being completely honest, and there was little point in denying that now. But would admitting it do any good? Would it make any difference? She loved him but she wasn’t sure she could trust him with her heart. And if she couldn’t trust him with that then there was little point in any of it. 
Uncertain and deeply frustrated with herself, Rosemary closed the laptop lid firmly, as if that would make the whole mess simply disappear. God, if only. She rubbed the backs of her hands over her eyes, feeling the sharp burn of tears threatening once more. Enough, she growled at herself. Enough. This had to stop. 
A steady, rhythmic knocking on her front door startled Rosemary back into the present. She muttered a curse under her breath and pushed herself up off the couch. Rosemary grimaced as she spared a quick glance at the mirror hanging near the door. Her eyes were definitely puffier than they should have been, an obvious sign that she had been crying or at least very close to it, but there was little to be done for it now. She took a deep breath and unbolted the door. 
“Tom?” The name stumbled from her lips in confusion. He stood in the hallway; hair blown haphazardly, cheeks ruddy with cold, eyes a deep and piercing blue. There was an almost tangible buzz of nervous energy rolling off of him in steady waves. 
A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as he took a deep breath and locked his eyes on her, determination coloring his features. “May I come in? We need to talk.”
Next Chapter
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cherry3point14 · 6 years ago
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CAN’T GET NO SATISFACTION | CHAPTER 1
DESCRIPTION: You are VP of Sales for a company with stores and major distribution links across the country and your executive assistant, and only real friend, is leaving. A temp is brought in to replace her, on probation, for you try him out. Of course, nobody told you that it was a him, or that his name was Dean Winchester, or that you’d want to try him out.
A/N: This is an office AU basically from this post. Yep, it’s all a setup for that joke.
[Dean x Reader. Characters: Dean, Reader, OFC Words: 2,477. Warnings: a couple of bad words that’s it I think. Mostly pining and eventual fluff]
Ao3 link if you prefer. Series Masterlist
Most days you loved your job. You loved the variety of visiting clients all over your corner of the country, you loved the moment you saw them change their minds because of you and you loved inspiring your teams. Some people were made for jobs like this and you were one of them, nothing quite gave you a thrill like making a sale or teaching someone else how to. It’s just, as Vice President of Sales for the east coast, you made pretty big sales.
Of course, the job had its drawbacks. Meetings that tested your ability to stay awake in the face of unending boredom. Reports so dull that you were sure your eyes might bleed. Not to mention the hours. Responsibility for the biggest sales region meant your hours were rarely nine to five. Honestly, Dolly Parton had no idea how good she had it.
It was fine, obviously. You earned more than enough to account for your hours and over the years you’d curated a good team, every one of them dependable and hardworking. You appreciated the hell out of them and you made sure they knew it.
That’s what made it so difficult to watch one of them leave.
You knew you couldn’t keep Maddy forever. You wished you could, obviously, she had been the best assistant you’d ever had. Constantly trying to impress you, she hadn’t needed to try so hard, she was pretty impressive as it was. Always here before you, left after you, never questioned your hours and pretty much made sure your life ran like clockwork. Unfortunately, she was smart as a whip so after two years you couldn’t ignore her potential anymore and a year after that she was moving on.  
“We all know why we’re here,” you held a plastic champagne flute in your manicured hand and looked over at your favorite employee, well, your friend. “Maddy, the traitor, is defecting to the dangerous world of marketing, leaving us and the field teams scrambling. God knows how many of us will end up at the wrong airport without her reminder emails.” You let your bright, office smile melt into something more genuine, “Mads, I couldn’t be more serious when I say I don’t know what I’ll do without you. But I’m so proud of you and I can’t wait to see you bust your way through that new team of yours until we’re working side by side.”
Everyone shares a collective ‘aww’ as you raise your glass in the air and finish with, “go get ‘em Mads!”
After your surrounding team has mumbled her name and taken a drink she finds herself trapped by people offering some personal congratulations and you find yourself leaning against her desk, watching everyone fawn over her. You’re the boss after all, as friendly as your staff might be with you none of them, save Maddy, were actually your friends. You didn’t have time for friends, which might be why her leaving hits you a little harder than you’d thought it would. For the amount of time you were forced together, she’s genuinely become more than an employee.
You linger a few minutes before you slip back inside your office. She was the woman of the hour and she needed to shake every hand and receive every hug. You, however, had a new product pitch that had to be finished before you could even think about leaving for the day.
“Knock, knock. Miss Y/L/N?”
Looking up you see the woman of the hour standing there, a smile on her face and rosy cheeks, you assume from the amount of champagne you’ve seen everyone pour for her.
You lean back and fold your arms over your chest with feigned annoyance on your face, “excuse me, is that how I asked you to address me?”
She laughs at you but doesn’t make any move to come further into your space, she knows not to disturb when you’re trying to work, “so bossy since you stopped being my boss.”
You return your eyes to the screen with a smile. “Stop getting ahead of yourself. You still work for me till Monday. I can’t be expected to brief your replacement. I have absolutely no idea how to run my own life.”
Maddy doesn’t let her own smile waver but her voice turns serious, “you going to have time for one more drink tonight?”
Your sigh alone should be answer enough but you look away from the letters that are turning fuzzy in front of you to apologize properly, “I’m sorry. If this isn’t done tonight then… well, it has to be done tonight. Besides aren’t those lot taking you out?”
She nods having worked for you long enough to understand. “They want to, but I told them my dragon of a boss needs me in early tomorrow to train her newbie. I think they’re planning on ruining me tomorrow night instead.”
“Oh, that’s considerate of them.” You're fine with that, you understand why you're not invited and you're not sure if you'd want to even go. Nobody want's to party with the boss and you don't want to be the person who turns the evening awkward. 
“I thought so too. You need anything else before I head home?” Even with half a bottle of bubbles in her, you can tell the question is genuine. If you asked her to go and photocopy something right this second you knew she would.
You shake your head, “get out of here before I have to fire you. I’m a big girl, I can call my own car,” you wink playfully, “for once.”
His phone rings out its alarm and he groans into his pillow in response. Five fucking AM. He hated five AM and everything it stood for. He hated that his new job required him to see this time in the morning but, it was a considerable jump in pay and an opportunity to get out of being a goddamn temp.
And if there’s one thing he hated more than five AM, it was temping.
He had his morning routine down to a fine art. Shower, coffee, clothes. Always the same order, always out the door in twenty minutes.
What he hadn’t counted on was problems on the F train.
He’s forty-five minutes late when he shows up, including the night guard still sitting at front desk not being able to find his building pass, but his jaw unclenches when he gets to his floor and sees an empty office. Maybe he’s got away with it? Or was the six AM start a joke, to begin with? Hazing the new guy? He’d admittedly thought it pretty fucking ridiculous when he’d heard it.
“Oh my God finally, are you Dean?”
He looks down to realize this tiny woman in front of him appeared from nowhere. She already looks like she’s run half a marathon and shows no intention of stopping considering the piles of product pamphlets in her hands.
“Erm, yeah?”
The pamphlets are shoved into his hands now making the messenger bag hanging loosely from his shoulder drop to the floor. “Good. I’m Maddy and I have one day to show you the ropes. I guess rule number one would be don’t show up nearly an hour late but hopefully, you’re smart enough to know that already.”
He motions to the bright but empty office at the end of the room, “but she’s not…?”
“She’s already in her first meeting genius. So, you’re late meeting her, you’re late for me showing you how she takes her first coffee and you guessed it, you’re late for her first morning run through.”
He cringes in a way that says ‘shit’ without the word needing to be spoken.
“Yep. Now bring those over to my desk, although I suppose it’s yours now, and I’ll try and give you two years of information in the next twenty minutes.”
“I have been an assistant before…” he starts but then he catches what else she said, “why what happens in twenty minutes?”
Maddy smiles wickedly like she’s enjoying this far too much, “oh, that’s when she gets back.”
“I understand the issues you’re dealing with Doug, but my guys have enough to deal with in the upcoming quarter, this is not going to help.” You’re standing outside the meeting room you just exited arguing with your least favorite member of the executive team.
Doug’s smile is tight-lipped and his tone patronizing as ever, “that’s why we have you right? Sell it to them.”
You school your features as you often have to while speaking to the slimy Operations head, also known as the bane of your existence, “sell them a 40% reduction in stock because your Supply Chain team didn’t plan correctly? No problem. And here I was thinking I was here to sell to our clients.”
You spin on your heel and leave, although momentarily satisfied at getting the last word the unavoidable problem plagues you with it’s potential hit to your Q3 targets.
You’re about to storm into your office when you find the glass door being held open for you by a stranger. A handsome, you didn’t see many of those in the office, tall, stranger who keeps his green eyes focused respectfully ahead of him while you slowed to an almost stop in the doorway.
Maddy shouts up from her desk, “that’s Dean, the new me. He finally showed, want to see us in five?”
“Yeah… erm, no.” You remember yourself and the outcome of your first meeting, “Make it fifteen. I need to make a call. Can you get me my breakfast and let Robert know that I need to push lunch until next week?” Although sounding like it, none of it is a question.
You take your eyes off of Dean, who you hadn’t been staring at the entire time you’d been speaking, and head to your desk with a mind to dial your phone fiercely enough to forget your frustrations. Your fingers linger over the keypad as you pick up the headset though. Dean sits back at the desk with Maddy writing down, with a pen and paper you note, every word she’s saying. As much as you spearheaded the paperless office initiative it strikes you as cute that he’s sitting there with his yellow pad and pen, nodding like a bobble head while Maddy talked, you were sure, at a thousand miles per hour.

It’s when the dial tone in your ear disappears and becomes an incessant beep, for you not having dialed, that you think maybe you need to focus. Focus on your job obviously, not on your new assistant, the person working under you, the person it would be incredibly inappropriate for you to have any sorts of feelings towards.
Not that you did. You were just thrown for a second. Nobody had told you that your new assistant was… him.
Y/N liked a coffee every hour from 6am to 11am, which yeah that’s six fucking coffees, after that she switches to iced tea or ice water depending on her mood and it was apparently part of his job to know which one she wanted without her having to ask. Maddy kept promising that she was actually the best boss he could hope for but then these crazy things would slip out of her mouth that made it seem like Maddy might be delusional.
Along with her beverage of choice on the hour, he needed to have a run-down of any calls she’d missed or declined to pick up, and a summary of all her emails for the last hour. That was fine, pretty standard, but then she’d hit him with the sucker punch like the fact that Y/N texts at all hours, seven days a week, so she doesn’t forget anything. And she expects to have summary notes on everything she’d sent the next day.
“You don’t get it. She’s the youngest VP in the company and the youngest woman VP in the industry. She’s a legend. And she’s actually a good person too but she just has quirks. And sometimes those quirks involve you having to bribe an airline to get her a seat on a fully booked flight because the next available flight is her unlucky number.”
“So, she’s crazy?” He finally asks after listening to a couple of stories like this. Don’t get him wrong. He could deal with crazy, he has dealt with crazy before, he just liked to know what he was getting himself in for.
The salary was more than worth a little crazy after all.
Maddy frowns and he thinks maybe he’s offended her. Maybe they have some girl power, sisterhood of traveling pants, feminist thing going on.
“No, she’s not crazy. She’s busy being successful. Successful and still looking out for her team of fifty people including those in the field.” Maddy’s eyes are wide and insistent.
Damn. It’s not a woman thing, it’s a friend thing.
He dips his head in apology, which seems enough for now, but the PDF on her screen, which has been titled ‘So you’re Y/N Y/L/N’s new assistant?’ tells him that he’s not entirely wrong.
It’s forty-nine pages.
He can appreciate that Maddy seems to have a sense of humour with some of the advice she’s written out, and honestly, he’s worked at jobs where they leave you high and dry to figure this stuff out for yourself, so he does appreciate it, but nothing she’s showing him is convincing him of his new bosses sanity.
He can totally understand why she’s loco. He’s not an idiot, clearly, he knows who she is and her reputation. She’s responsible for the +5% growth in the northeast last year while the top eight competing brands had figures in the minus. In one of the hardest years since the recession, she kept things in a plus. He gets that she’s worked hard to get to where she is. So, if he has to make sure that she only ever travels to Washington on Wednesday’s because she likes the alliteration, then so be it.
He just doesn’t get why everyone’s acting like there’s not something wrong with her.
Everyone he’s spoken to, which to be fair is Maddy and only a handful of others, either loves her or at the very least respects her. There’s no complaining about keeping the office at exactly 62 degrees because she runs hot or how she only drinks espresso-based drinks so they don’t have a filter machine on this floor.
That’s the amazing thing. Not her sales figures, or her age or reputation. It’s that nobody seems to hate her.
Although Maddy assures him that if he was asking Doug from Ops or Mark in Finance, he might hear a different story.
Continue to Chapter 2
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waywardnerd67 · 7 years ago
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Writing Your Story: Chap. 1 - Took You Long Enough
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Summary: When Raelyn Nichols was approached to continue writing the Supernatural series she never knew how her world would one-day flip completely upside down when she meets the characters from her books the famous Winchester Brothers. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel and Raelyn Nichols (OFC) Pairing: Dean X Raelyn (OFC) Warnings: All the fluff. Word Count: 2621 A/N: Alright ladies and gents, here is the first chapter of my first ever series! I’m incredibly excited and scared pantless. If you find any mistakes please let me know, since I edited this chapter roughly around 2AM EST. I will be updating this series weekly probably on Saturday. Let me any thoughts and opinions you have on this including constructive criticism (all hate can be deposited into your local trash can). Above all, thank you for reading what I write and for all the support. Tagging A Few Lovelies Who Inspire Me To Keep Writing: @waywardbaby @rosethesupernaturalhunter @carryonmywaywardcaptain @anotherwaywardsister @ladywinchester1967
Raelyn Nichols smiled as a mom took a picture of her daughter with her. “Thank you, Miss Nichols.” The little girl said. Raelyn smiled sweetly at her, “You’re welcome.” Raelyn sighed as she sat back down behind her booth. Raelyn’s rise to stardom was unusual and no one knew the true story except for Raelyn, a special angel friend and Chuck Shirley, as known as, God. Chuck was a fan of Raelyn’s novels and asked her to continue writing his series Supernatural. At first, Raelyn, thought it was a joke but once Chuck revealed his true identity who could say no to God. The last three years, she had been cranking out books every six to eight months. Now she did book events along with comic conventions taking pictures and signing autographs.
“Raelyn Nichols?” Raelyn looked up from her phone into the stunning olive-green eyes of the gorgeous man from her dreams. She smiled at him, “Dean Winchester, took you long enough to find me.” He looked at her dumbfounded as his younger brother came up behind him. “Ah, Sam Winchester. Well, now that the Scooby gang is all here I’m assuming you found out that I am writing Supernatural. Can this conversation wait until after the convention? I am kind of working here.” Sam looked to Dean just as dumbfounded. “How do you know about us? Our lives?” Dean’s voice was stern and husky. His voice was just as Raelyn had dreamed it would be.
“Look, I promise I will explain everything to you pretty boy. I’m not running or going anywhere. Here,” Raelyn handed them all access passes, that had been meant for her best friend and her boyfriend, to the convention, “you can go anywhere within the convention. There is quite the spread of food back in reception if you both are hungry.” Dean perked up a bit as Sam looked over to him rolling his eyes. “You will meet us in the reception area as soon as you’re done.” Sam said as Raelyn looked behind the taller Winchester. A line was forming behind them, “Yes, I’m not going anywhere. Chuck told me one day you would find me. That day is today. Now go before my line gets any longer.” The brothers looked behind them seeing quite a few people dressed as them and with Supernatural books in their hands.
Sam and Dean stepped to the side and watched Raelyn as she talked with fans, signed books and took pictures. Sam decided to go walk around the convention since he had never been to one before and saw a few Star Wars actors he would love to meet. Dean couldn’t bring himself to move from Raelyn’s booth. There was something about her that instantly drew him into her. She was beautiful which is obviously what caught his attention first. She had long wavy chocolate brown hair, tall curvy body and porcelain skin. The two features that made Dean weak in the knees were her brilliant forest green eyes that bore into him like no one ever had before and her soft full rosy lips just begging to be kissed.
He watched her interact with fans as she would smile for pictures and even posing ridiculously with some of them. She glanced over to him and motioned for him to come over behind the booth. She pulled out a stool from under her table and patted it. “Sit. I’d rather you sit here and chat than stand there and stare.” He chuckled as he sat next to her. Another fan came up, “Wow he looks just like Dean in the books. That is exactly how I pictured him.” Raelyn laughed as Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I know, me too, that is why I picked him as the winner of a local contest. He won the chance to be with me all day. He’s one of my biggest fans.” Dean gave her a pointed looked as the teenage girl looked to him with admiration. “Wow, you’re so lucky. Would it be okay to get a picture with the both of you?” Dean started to shake his head but Raelyn tugged on his jacket. “Of course, you can, Robert here would be honored to take a picture with you.” Raelyn dragged him in front of the table and the fan stood in between them. Emma, convention worker assigned to Raelyn, took the picture and the fan hugged them both before walking away. Dean was chuckling as they sat back down and no one was at Raelyn’s booth. “So, how long are you usually here at these conventions?” Raelyn looked at her phone, “I’m usually here for three days, Friday thru Sunday, all day. I’ve got another hour or so before I can pack up. A lot of fans are starting to leave now so I may be able to leave early. Why? You got a hot date?” Dean smirked, “Yeah, I do. I have a date with a good-looking author who knows more about me than I do her.”
Raelyn felt her cheeks burning. “Why Dean Winchester are you flirting with me?” She looked at him above her black rimmed glasses. She watched as a devious smirk came across his handsome face. Seeing Dean Winchester in her dreams or visions was one thing but him in person was a whole another story. His sandy brown hair looked soft and his broad muscular body was hidden under layers of denim, cotton and flannel. She watched as he ran his large hands over his muscular thighs driving her crazy. However, it was his eyes, his olive-green steal your soul eyes, that made her lose all train of thought. He noticed her sizing him up and his smirked turned into a smile. She was staring at his lips now as he ran his tongue over the bottom one trapping it under his teeth. Her eyes got wide and he saw her breath hitch. “What if I am, Raelyn? Is that okay with you?” he asked as she fidgeted with her hair twirling it between her fingers. “I wouldn’t hate it, but I’m not really your type.” Dean looked down at his hands nervously quickly being reminded why he was there next to her in the first place. “You really do know everything about us, huh? Every thought or feeling we have?” Raelyn sighed, “I can’t read your mind if that is what you’re asking. But yeah, I know pretty much everything about you two. Including that you tend to go after ladies who a few sizes smaller than I am and wear more provocative clothing.” Dean’s smile faded as he ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m not really a great guy when it comes to having something more than a one-night stand.” Raelyn looked at him about to say something when he spoke again, “Probably best if you just stayed away from me, Raelyn.” He got up walking away from her table. Raelyn sighed as another fan approached her. Raelyn finished up the last few autographs and pictures then she packed up her personal items walking towards reception.
Raelyn found the brothers sitting at a table waiting for her. Sam was holding a few pictures that were autographed as Dean was giving him a disapproving look. She walked up to them, “Come on. We can go back to my place and talk. It’s warded against… well everything so it’s safe there.” Sam and Dean followed her outside where it had started to rain. “Well, where’s your beautiful Impala at? I don’t feel like walking in the rain even if it is only a few blocks.” Dean pointed across the street and she smiled seeing the car. “Oh Baby, you are more than I could have ever dreamed.” She said admiring the car. Dean could not help the smile on his face as she admired his pride and joy. “She’s unlocked.” He stated simply as they all got in. As he drove down the street, Raelyn was humming her praises to his Baby. Her humming was driving him crazy. Sam turned to her, “Do you need a moment alone with the Impala?” Raelyn looked up at Dean through the rearview mirror, “Sure, just park it and leave it running. I’ll be done in ten minutes.” She laughed as she watched both men’s shocked expressions and subtly smile on Dean’s face. She directed them to her condo and lead them up to it. She sat down her bag and curiously watched Sam and Dean look around her home. “You have quite the collection of comics and memorabilia.” Sam said in awe as he looked over her collectables. “Thank you, I am quite the nerd. So, please make yourselves comfort.” Raelyn went into her kitchen to grab a couple beers from her fridge for Sam and Dean. She also grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass for herself. She walked back into her living room seeing the boys had taken off their jackets and were sitting on her couch. She handed them the beers and then sat in her favorite chair pouring herself a drink.
“Before we get this started we need one more person to join us.” She picked up her phone and sent a text message. A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on her door. “Come on in!” Raelyn shouted. A tall man came walking in with dark brown hair and blue eyes like the ocean wearing a trench coat. “Cas?!” The brothers said at the same time as Raelyn chuckled loving it when they spoke in unison. The beautiful angel nodded as he sat on the couch next to Dean. “You two know each other?” Dean asked looking pointedly at Cas. “Yes, Dean I was asked to watch over her when Chuck left. How did you two find out about Raelyn?” he asked as Dean scoffed. “Claire found her books online and then passed it along to us. Better question is why didn’t you tell us about this?” Sam asked. Raelyn poured herself another drink as Dean whispered over to her, “You got another glass?” She snickered getting up and getting him one.
In the kitchen she could still hear all of them talking. As she walked back out she poured Dean a drink and then shut them all up, “Alright! Let’s just get this over with.” The three men looked up at her and nodded. Dean downed his drink and quickly refilled it. “Start from the beginning, Raelyn.” Sam stated as she settled into her chair. “I knew Carver Edlund or Chuck Shirley from different conventions and our agents were from the same company. Anytime we would talk he would mention how he loved my novels and I equally loved his.” She paused for a moment taking a drink. “A few years ago, he showed up here and asked if we could talk. He explained he was leaving for a while and would love it if I would continue writing Supernatural. Of course, being a huge fan, I agreed and he had all the rights transferred to me. That is when he told me the truth about the books.” Raelyn poured another drink for Dean when he finished the second one. “He was God, the books were real life events, Sam and Dean Winchester were real brothers saving people and hunting things.”
Sam scoffed, “What made you believe him?” Raelyn chuckled thinking back on the day that changed her life forever. “He touched my forehead and suddenly I saw everything that had happened in the books. I saw your lives from the day you were born. He showed me his true face bright light and all. He told me that I would have dreams of what I needed to write. Kind of like Sam’s premonitions but not as painful and no psychic powers.” She noticed Sam flinch and Dean gave him a weary look. “Look, I didn’t ask to have all of this. I thought I would just be writing a series of books based off his notes not the real-life tales of ghostbusting. I know I wouldn’t want someone knowing my entire life story and airing it out to the world.” Dean turned towards her, “Then why do you continue to write the books?” She sighed finishing her drink and setting the glass down. “The main reason is because God… literal God told me too. I think it’s important to follow what he says, don’t you think? Also, your story brings a lot of hope and inspiration into millions of lives who believe they are hopeless and meaningless to this world. I believe if my books or your story can impact one person’s life then it is worth continuing to tell the story.”
“How did you meet Cas then?” Castiel smirked slightly as she chuckled, “It was a rough start. At conventions I have some enthusiastic fans which Cas thought were trying to harm me. First time, I ever saw him, he ran off a bunch of fans that were cosplaying as demons.” Castiel shrugged slightly, “I followed Raelyn for weeks before then. I believed she was in danger and did not know humans would dress up for fun as demons.” Sam and Dean started laughing. Raelyn loved seeing them laugh since most of the time she only witnessed them fighting or hurt in her dreams. “Are you working on a new book now?” Sam asked as he finished his beer. Raelyn looked from one brother to the next and shook her head, “Not currently. I am just promoting the current book ‘Tombstone’ which was a bitch to get titled since there’s a movie titled that as well.” Raelyn nervously looked up at the three men to see if they bought her lie. Castiel was the only one looking at her curiously but Sam and Dean took her word for it. “So, now what?” she asked. Dean stood up stretching his tall, muscular body. Raelyn bit her bottom lip admiring the way his muscles contracted as he moved his arms above his head.
“Now, we leave our numbers for you and if you have any more dreams then you call us.” Dean took out a piece of paper from a journal he kept in his jacket pocket. He wrote his and Sam’s numbers down handing it to her. Briefly, their fingers touched and she felt an electric current run up her arm. A wonderful chill ran down her back and looking up she could see he had felt it as well. His eyes wide and darken as he gazed down at her. He opened his mouth to say something but simply trapped his tongue between his teeth driving Raelyn crazy. She shook her head slightly as Sam cleared his throat, “Alright, well we should get going.” Raelyn followed the brothers to her door waving goodbye and closing it once they were down the hall. She took a deep breath in and slowly released it as she leaned up against the door. “Raelyn, why did you not tell them about writing a new book?” Castiel asked as she cleaned up the boys’ bottles and glass. “No one should know too much about their own future especially the Winchesters.” She looked sternly at her angel friend, “You won’t tell them about it as well. You know how they will react and there is no need to add fuel to the fire.” Castiel nodded apprehensively. “Good, now pop out here so I can take a shower, write and go to bed.” With a whooshing sounding Castiel was gone and Raelyn settled herself at her desk. She powered on her laptop and pulled up her newest manuscript entitled, “Wayward Sisters”.
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Football Fic Writer Profile - Utami (thebluesideofmyworld)
Hello lovely people! We hope that you all are having a great week so far. We meet again in another article, featuring one of the fic writers from the football fandom.
Have we told you before that we felt like there are so many fic writers who were born on February? Here’s another one who was also born on February. On February 14, to be exact.
People, please welcome Utami. And yes, people. It’s her birthday today!
Happy birthday, Utami!
You can find her on her Tumblr ( @thebluesideofmyworld )  where she posts her M/F fics, or you can also go to her AO3 account where she posts her slash fics.
Now let’s refresh our memories about her writing by reading an excerpt from one of her fics
She curled up on her couch, staring at the TV without really looking at it. It was one of her favorite TV shows, yet she could not seem to get excited about it anymore.
Her phone went off. Mats name flashed on the screen. She stared at it for a while, the ringtone sounded so loud, too loud in the living room.
After a while the phone went silent again.
She stared at her phone, thinking that maybe Mats would just be like the other people. Those people who would leave her anyway at the end.
(People always left her anyway. No one wanted to stay with her anyway.)
(Can You Hold Me)
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Utami is originally from Indonesia, but she has been in the US since 2013 to do a postgrad degree in Environmental Engineering. She is currently having a massive crush on Asa Taccone, the vocalist from Electric Guest, and spends her times listening to songs from Troye Sivan and Fall Out Boy while waiting for Voltron S05 to be released. She is a supporter of Manchester City and Real Madrid. Those of you who might have checked her blog out would not be surprised to find that her favorite player is David Silva.
She started writing by writing her thoughts in a diary since she was 8 years old, because she said that it had always been easier for her to express what she felt by writing it. In late 2009, she found a fansite for a talent show in her country where she found some fanfics posted there. Out of curiosity, she tried to post the first chapter of a fic there. She ended up writing more and more for that fandom. She said that even though the fandom faded out slowly after the talent show ended, she would still remember it as her first experience in writing fics.
Writing is something that she enjoys because she said that it’s really a good way for her to express herself. She has always had a wild imagination since she was a kid, probably because she loved reading so much. She often has imaginary scenes and conversations in her head, and writing them out is something she find to be soothing. “Lately, I also try to remember what my therapist once told me, that I should see writing as a self-care method and coping mechanism for me, as I feel through writing, I can be a better version of myself.”
Even though she has been watching football ever since she was a kid, the first time she encountered football fics was in 2012. She read the fics and started wondering whether she could also do one. In December 2012, she decided to give it a try, and her first football fic was about David Silva with an OFC. “I cringed whenever I read it,” she said. “I changed the POV every 2 paragraphs, the dialogue was unnatural, and the description was so so bland.” However, she said that it was her fic that was written in English so she felt like it’s something that she should be proud of.
Besides one-shot, she also used to do requests where she would write 100-word drabble based on a song requested by someone. “I love the challenge of trying to understand the meaning behind the songs, then put it into a limited number of words,” she said. Since 2015, she also started writing slash fics. She personally found that it had a different kind of challenge. “In slash fics, the pairing usually already had some sort of chemistry that’s shown through their interactions in real life. So the real challenge is how to put those chemistry into words.” Besides the football fandom, since last year, she has also written for the riordanverse fandom. For this fandom then, she said that there is another kind of challenge, which was how put the characters into her story and head-canon without making them OOC.
Her inspirations mainly come from songs, and music videos. Whenever she found a song that she liked, she would look up the meaning of that song and try to analyze each line of the song. “I love MVs that have some sort of story line,” she said. “Some of my fics for the riordanverse fandom were inspired by MVs, like Wildfire from Seafret, and First Time He Kissed a Boy by Kadie Elder.”
Once she gets an idea for a fic, she will jot down some things that she thought would be essential in the fic in her journal. Music is a big must whenever she writes a fic, along with a cup of coffee. One of her strategies in writing is by making herself write at least 500 words every day. She finds it to be quite effective, especially when she is working on a multi-chaptered fic.
While she really enjoys writing fluff, she said that she can’t write some angst. According to her, real life is already hard enough, so she doesn’t want to put more sadness into something that supposed to be an escape. She particularly loves AU fics. “It takes quite a lot of imagination to put the characters into a whole different set of universe, yet you still have to write them as who they really are canonically. I enjoy both reading it and writing it.” When it comes to the kind of AU that she likes, she said that she is a sucker for Soulmate!AU fic and Coffee Shop AU (Well, considering that she drinks at least 4 cups of coffee a day, we was not really surprised about this).  She also mentioned that one of her favorite tropes is Fake Dating. She told us that one of her fics that she’s most proud of is The Thin Line. “It’s about  David/Joe which is one of my favorite pairings, it’s an AU fic, and it’s a fake dating one. And somehow I managed to squeeze in Fernando Torres to give a shovel talk in the fic.” Here’s an excerpt of that fic:
David looked up at Joe and his eyes were wide and warm. But the look in those caramel eyes were a mix of longing and sincerity and something vulnerable. Joe absently thought whether it was the same kind of look that David found in his eyes. Joe cupped David’s cheek with one hand, gently ran the pad of his thumb over David’s jaw. They were still swaying along with the music but their feet moved slower and slower, like the way the final notes of a symphony faded away before it ended. He slowly leaned forward and everything was starting to blur into slow motion. Joe could see each and every single one of David’s lashes. A little part of his mind realized that at some point they had stopped moving but at the moment Joe also felt like they were inside an invisible bubble, mist and cloud around them. Joe stopped moving right when the tip of his nose touched David’s. David’s breathing was warmly ghosting, almost like teasing, against his skin.
David’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands slid up Joe’s neck, threading his fingers between Joe’s curls. Joe closed his eyes but behind his eyelids he saw the cherry red of David’s cheeks, the rosy red of David’s lips.
In her writing, some of the lines can come in such a lyrical, almost poetical way, even when she was only using simple words. For example, let’s have a look at an excerpt from one of her fics here:
They were close enough that their shoulders sometimes brush each other. But the silence between them stretched like an unbearable distance.
They were so close, Marco could reach out for her hand to hold it.
He didn’t.
(He knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go had he done it)
She never asked him to stay anyway. So Marco left.
(That night Marco dreamt about winning the Champions League with Real Madrid. He won the cup and brought the cup home with him. The home was big and beautiful but it was empty. Marco hated the dream)
(Dream)
Utami said that one of her biggest insecurities in writing is her English. She said that she always finds her grammar is all over the place, especially when it comes to tenses. She also admitted that she felt her vocabulary is really limited, and she often scared whether she’s using the right word with the right context. “But I guess, one of the ways that I can do to improve is by reading even more and just keep on writing,” she said.
At the moment, she is working on two fics for the riordanverse fandom, in which one of them is a Musician!AU. She also mentioned that she has started a Creative Writing challenge last year, and she is considering to continue the challenge this year for the football fics.
We asked her for one tips she would like to share with us, and this is what she gave us.
The best way to improve in writing is just by doing it. It would be much better if you like, really write something, anything, other than just keep on saying that you want to write. Start small. Having 100 words scribbled on a piece of paper is still much better than nothing.
Well people, it has been a great pleasure to know more about Utami. And we hope that you also enjoy it as much as we do!
And as always. Let’s close this with another excerpt from one of her works, that she claimed to be one of the fics that was really dear to her
“So,” James said as they both standing on the pavement. “Well… It was… Nice…” he said, turning his head to look at David.
“Uh. Yeah,” David said, nervously smiled back at James.
His heartbeat started racing like crazy.
Thump thump thump.
He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. It was barely two weeks ago he had his heart broken. He was not ready for this.
(What was this, anyway?)
( The Color of the Sky)
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winterisakiller · 6 years ago
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Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Three
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Chapter: 3/19
Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.
Rating: T (for now)
Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.
This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username: winterisakiller (sparkinside)
Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77
Previous Chapter
CHAPTER THREE
Rosemary took a deep breath as she walked into the crowded bistro. A quick glance at her watch told her she was a good fifteen minutes early. Perfect. She offered the woman standing behind the counter a small smile and hurried to claim the small table near the back of the room she’d noticed upon entering. It offered a modicum of privacy that she felt they would desperately need.
Her head had finally ceased its incessant pounding; thank god for paracetamol and insanely large amounts of water. But she still felt much the worse for wear. Three hours’ sleep is not at all enough.   
The night before had dragged on far longer than she’d hoped it would; not that that should have surprised her in any way. Jules, even completely in her cups, was a force to be reckoned with and she certainly hadn’t held back, hitting Rosemary with question after question. What was Tom doing calling her? How did he have her number? Was she actually serious about meeting up with him? Was this all a reaction to how things had ended with Adam? On and on she went until Rosemary thought she’d go mad. 
Even now, hours later, her head was still spinning. Giving Jules carte blanche had been a very, very bad idea. Her own uncertainty and unease of the growing situation with Tom was in no way helped by Jules’ leading and distinctly pointed questions.
A surprisingly sunny faced waitress approached the table, a stack of menus in her arms. She took one off the top and held it out. “What can I get you?”
Taking the proffered menu, Rosemary ordered a glass of still water and asked for a few moments to look over her options and to wait for a friend who would be joining her. The waitress nodded flitting off in the direction of the kitchens. She returned a few minutes later, placing the glass in front of Rosemary before heading off towards another recently occupied table.
Rosemary rubbed her temples, fearing nerves would bring back her headache with a vengeance. She wondered for the hundredth time if coming here, if agreeing to meet Tom, had been a mistake. His excuses from the previous night had been flimsy at best, though admittedly her memory of them was fuzzy. Copious amounts of wine and serious conversations are not the best of bedfellows. Was letting him back into her life, in any way, actually worth it? She honestly didn’t know. But yet here you are…
She was tempted to simply leave. So sorely tempted. He wasn’t there yet and chances were she could probably get away before he was. Surely it would be the smarter choice to walk away now rather than allowing herself to be slowly pulled back in…But still she hesitated. Was that honestly fair to him? Or to her? She wasn’t the same person she’d been three years ago and at this point she didn’t really know if he was either. Shouldn’t she give him at least the chance to explain? Just to say that she had?
Give him the benefit of the doubt, she reasoned with herself. See what he has to say. You can always walk away later.  
Temporarily bolstered, Rosemary felt herself start to relax. There was no sense in working herself up over something that hadn’t happened yet. She drummed her fingers on the table as she sipped her water and watched as people filtered in and out of the bistro’s doors. 
The bistro did a fairly good lunch run, from what she could see. That was promising. Her eyes wandered over the menu, and had they seemed to have a fairly decent selection. Very nice.  If the food was any good it might be worth a repeat visit. She glanced reflexively at her watch, twelve on the dot. Any minute now. 
But by fifteen after Rosemary’s patience was beginning to run thin. She was acutely aware each time the door opened and grew more and more disgruntled when, each time, it wasn’t Tom. The waitress had been by her table twice more, and the expression she wore grew a little more pitying with each pass. 
Rosemary grimaced. She felt utterly foolish for allowing herself to think that coming here could have ever been a good idea. She glanced at the glass and judged that she had approximately two more sips of water remaining. Fine then. If he hadn’t shown by the time she finished then he could go hang for all she was concerned. She was done. 
She’d pushed it for as long as she could, holding her glass and stubbornly hoping he’d walk through the door. But he didn’t and water finished, she grabbed her coat and left. She felt like an idiot. Why did she even consider coming here let alone waiting for so long? Foolish, foolish woman, she chided herself. You always do this. Why can’t you learn? 
“Rosie?” 
She paused momentarily at the sound of Tom’s voice some several yards behind her before shaking her head and pressing onwards. 
“Rosie! Wait!” 
She could hear him scrambling after her but did not slow her pace. It was childish, she knew, but didn’t care. She’d waited enough. And if he didn’t have the decency to recognize that, then so be it. 
It took everything she had not to jump when his hand landed gently on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close and so quickly. Damn that man and his freakishly long legs. 
His touch was firm but not demanding; pleading her to turn and face him but not forcing the matter. “Rosie,” he whispered, “Please. I’m sorry. I completely lost track of time. I’m so sorry. I’m a complete ass and I know I don’t deserve it but please, please don’t walk away.” 
She whirled around, her frustration burning clearly on her features. She saw no need to try to hide it. “Why Tom? Give me a reason why I should be wasting anymore of my time waiting for you?” 
Tom flinched at her words before whispering, “Because I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. I pushed you away once and I’ve regretted it every day since. I just want a chance to make it right.” 
Rosemary stared in stunned disbelief. She shook her head, to clear it, and pushed past Tom. Arrogant son of a... 
He hastily reached out his hand, halting her progress. “Wait, please.” Relief flooded his face when she did. “I know you are angry with me and you have every right to be. And I know that I don’t have a reason that won’t sound like I’m trying to make excuses.” Rosemary narrowed her eyes but remained where she stood, waiting for him to continue. “I got caught up in a meeting with Luke and completely lost track of time. I’m an idiot and I fucked up. I’m sorry. Please just give me a chance to fix this.” 
She sighed in resignation. “You keep saying you’re sorry, Tom, but you keep doing this. You make me promises and then you turn around and break them. You ask me to trust you and go and give me reasons why I shouldn’t.” She paused and shook her head. She hadn’t meant to unload on him, and certainly not in such a public setting. “You keep asking for chances, Tom, and you keep blowing them. And I don’t know if I’m willing to waste another on you. Maybe that’s not fair, but I don’t know if I can keep doing this with you.” 
Tom smiled grimly. “You are absolutely right. And I know it’s not fair to you either. I don’t have any excuse for my behavior. I keep hurting you and I don’t mean to. Please believe that I don’t mean it. All I’m asking is you for you please just give me a half an hour of your time. Let me try to fix this, please.” He held his hands up, desperation clear in his eyes. “Just have a quick meal with me. Or a coffee if you’d prefer. Just give me thirty minutes.” 
This is a bad idea, her mind screamed. Just leave. Don’t let him pull you in again. It’s not worth it. But she stood rooted, watching the pleading look in his eyes. 
With a resigned sigh she spoke. “Thirty minutes, Tom.” 
A small, hopeful smile spread across his face, “Thank you.” 
                                                       —
They sipped their respective coffees in silence. Tom had chosen a table in the corner of the small coffee shop, hiding them away from the bustle of busy Londoner’s feeding their caffeine addictions. Rosemary watched Tom as he watched her but neither spoke. She had expected him to bombard her with reasons and excuses for his actions as soon as they had settled. He’d been so keen to get her to stay and to listen. The fact that he wasn’t talking unnerved her. 
With decision she placed her nearly empty mug onto the lacquered table and folded her hands in her lap. “You said last night you wanted to explain so explain.” 
Tom placed his own mug down and straightened the hem of his sweater before speaking. “Yes.” He quickly picked up how mug, taking another sip of his coffee. “I told you last night that I got called in for unexpected reshoots right after we talked in the shop.” 
Rosemary nodded, fussing with her own sweater. His nervousness, it appeared, was catching. 
“I should have called you straight away,” he began again in earnest.  “Let you know what was happening. But I honestly didn’t think it would take more than a few days. But things happened and before I knew it near a week had passed. The mobile reception was poor at the best of times and when all was said and done and I got home and settled it had been well past what I’d promised you. And I knew I didn’t have a good excuse for not calling. I should have called then but I didn’t.  And the longer I waited the harder it was to justify.” He shrugged helplessly. “I had fucked things up with you enough. But I couldn’t just say nothing so…” 
Rosemary took a deep breath and grabbed her coffee mug from the table, taking a large sip of her rapidly cooling latte. “If you had just called when you got home. Hell even a text. Something. I would have understood. I know I have my moments, but I’m not completely irrational…” 
“I know you’re not, Rosie. I never thought that you were,” he assured, tentatively reaching out a hand to her. She watched him cautiously but did not stop him. Tom took her hand and gently squeezed it in his. “And I should have done something, I know that. But at the time…I wasn’t thinking. I was angry with myself and I just didn’t think. It’s not an excuse but it’s all I have.”   
“And today?” 
She watched him critically. He’d already given her his reasons for their futile lunch meeting; she refused to call it a date no matter that the only person who would know she had was her, but in light of his candor she wondered if that story would change. And if it did what she would do. 
“I really was in a meeting with Luke,” he started. He locked his gaze on hers, blue eyes shining with the need for her to believe him. To listen. And she did so, grudgingly. “Things ran over and instead of calling I just panicked and tried to run here as fast as I could. I saw you leaving and I knew I’d bollocks it up again. I’m an idiot and I am truly sorry.” 
Rosemary didn’t utter a word for several minutes, her gaze darting from Tom to the table and back again. She could hear the pleading sincerity that he’d imbued his words with, but still she could not let herself fully believe them. She had believed them so often in the past and it had never ended well, for either of them. 
Frustration warred with longing. She loved him still, wanted desperately to believe that he meant it when he told her he wanted to be there, to make an effort with her. But yet again his actions spoke of a different and at the same time all too familiar tune. He hurt her in the past and seemed to fall back into that pattern so easily. She couldn’t let herself go through that again. Not now. 
“I hear what you are saying, Tom,” she began, willing herself to remain calm, “But it’s a little bit shit. You say you want to be a part of my life but then you go and pull the same shit you’ve always pulled. I don’t think I want to go through that again. It’s tiring.” She grabbed her purse from the floor beside her chair. “You say that you’re sorry but your actions say something altogether different and right now I cannot deal with that.” 
Without waiting for his response, she walked towards the café’s door and into the weak afternoon sunlight. 
                                                           __
 “Another glass?”
Jules held up the half empty wine bottle at Rosemary, shaking it lightly, her eyebrow raised in amused question. The living room had been overrun with various blankets, take-away bags and bottles of wine. The television was on, the movie playing all but forgotten. 
Rosemary handled her glass over without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, please.” 
“You know,” Jules pointed out, filling Rosemary’s glass nearly to the brim and handing it back. “We are very much going to regret this come morning,” 
She accepted it with a snort, “Probably. But fuck it.” 
“Fuck it,” Jules echoed with a smirk, draining her own glass. 
Rosemary had shown up at Jules’ front door, two bottles of wine in hand, several hours before seeking a little levity to the mess her afternoon had been. After she’d left the coffee shop, Rosemary had practically ran back to the store, startling Max and subsequently Hanna, who hadn’t expected her back for another forty minutes at least. She hadn’t said much, simply thrown herself into the back office and tried to lose herself in the growing piles of paperwork. And it had worked, for a time, but soon enough her concentration began to falter. She’d snapped at Hanna when she’d popped her head into the office with a customer query. At that point Rosemary knew she needed to leave. She’d apologized profusely to Hanna and made a beeline for the nearest Tesco Metro and its wine selection. 
Jules had taken one look at Rosemary and pulled her inside with opened arms. Wine bottles were opened and food was ordered in quick succession. It had taken several glasses and half a container of shrimp lo mein for Rosemary to relax enough to let the day spill out in relatively coherent, if not stilted, bursts. 
Once started, she found it difficult to stop; her anger and confusion bolstered by the alcohol that flooded her system. Was she really such a doormat that Tom felt he could walk all over her? The idea bristled. He’d all but waltzed back into her life, charming and handsome as ever, and pleaded for a place in it. And the second she’d agreed he disappeared only to come back and plead again. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was pathetic. Why couldn’t she seem to learn? 
Jules had nodded in understanding. Rosemary knew that her friend harbored little affection for Tom, she’d made it perfectly clear. But never once did she say ‘I told you so’ and for that Rosemary was profoundly grateful. 
“Fuck him,” Jules stated in a matter of fact tone as she refilled both of their glasses. 
Her glass raised in salute, Rosemary flashed a sardonic grin on her face. “That was always the problem.” She stifled a giggle as Jules snorted into her wine glass. “What? It’s true. If I hadn’t fucked him I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” 
“But you didn’t know that going in,” Jules indicated with a shake of her head. “Hell, I practically shoved you at him. And for that I am profoundly sorry.” 
With a wave of her hand, Rosemary dismissed Jules’ remark. “I’m pretty sure I threw myself into that one all on my own. But whatever, we could argue it for days and get nowhere.” She took a gulp of wine before continuing, gesturing vaguely. “Besides, it’s not like you didn’t warn me that this would happen.” 
Jules placed her glass onto the coffee table, smiling softly at her friend.  She reached out and rubbed Rosemary’s shoulder in affection. “Has he tried calling again?” 
Rosemary shook her head, “No, thank god. I don’t think that would have ended well at all.” 
“Oh ho now?” Jules quirked an eyebrow and grabbed her glass from the table once more, taking several sips. “Do tell.” 
Bolstering herself with another gulp of wine, Rosemary let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “Because with where my head’s been since this afternoon, I don’t think I have the ability to fake any sort of patience.” 
“Like he deserves anymore of your patience. Just call the bastard and tell him off once and for all.”   
Rosemary shook her head violently. “No. No. No. No very, very bad idea. Anger plus alcohol plus phones equals massively stupid, terrible idea.” She’d seen enough films to know how that scenario would end. And with all that had happened between them…No, best to let that lie. 
Jules didn’t look convinced, however, the thoughts that swirled in her green eyes were nothing short of troubling. Rosemary groaned, sensing this argument was far from over. Jules with an idea was like a dog with a particularly juicy bone. Nothing good could come of it.   
Noticing that their current bottle was long since finished, Jules stumbled, albeit gracefully, the nerve, into the kitchen for another. Rosemary leaned back against the cushioned back of the couch with a contented and closed her eyes. She felt a pleasant buzz thrumming through her, not quite drunk yet but very much on her way. Her limbs felt heavy and a tranquility that wasn’t wholly natural filled her. 
“Oh no you don’t!” Jules lectured, shoving her arm none too gently against Rosemary’s shoulder to rouse her. “If I’m going down in a blaze of hangover glory tomorrow then you’re going down with me. Now up!” She thrust a now full wine glass into Rosemary’s hand and dropped herself back into the couch, giggling. 
Rosemary drank dutifully, noting that she was definitely getting far too old for such nights and finding that she did not care a whit at the moment. She would pay for it come morning, that she knew with a startling certainty, but for the moment she would let herself bathe in the false bliss brought on by the wine.
 “You know,” Jules slurred over hour later, nearly spilling the remnants of her glass onto Rosemary’s top as she gestured wildly. “You should call him and tell him what an ass he is.” The two had polished off a further bottle and a half of wine while talking. Tom’s name had come up more and more frequency and with less and less charity.
Rosemary blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of her friend’s words. Something about the idea seemed…off and in her, admittedly, impaired state she couldn’t quite remember why. Tom was an ass; that she firmly believed. Maybe telling him so would drive the point home to him. He kept pestering her for chances and then walked all over her. Maybe it was time she told him just where he could stick his need to fix whatever the fuck laid between them. “That,” she agreed, “Is a very good idea.”
Her purse, however, was on the floor by the front door and that seemed so very far away. And she needed her phone to tell Tom he was an ass. With determination, Rosemary pushed herself to her feet, trying to desperately ignore the way the room seemed to tilt ever so slightly to the left. It took her several tries to dig her phone from the depths of her bag and several more to unlock it and find Tom’s number in her recent call log. 
Without a moment’s hesitation, she selected the number and hit ‘dial’.
Next Chapter
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winterisakiller · 6 years ago
Text
Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Seven
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Chapter: 7/19
Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.
Rating: T (for now)
Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.
This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username winterisakiller (sparkinside)
Tag List: @tinchentitri  @noplacelikehome77
Previous Chapter
CHAPTER SEVEN
 An exasperated sigh fell from Rosemary’s lips. It was barely noon and already she wanted to ram her head into a wall. This paperwork will be the bloody death of me. She rolled her neck, grimacing at the crack that action released. She was far, far too tense. Another hour, she reasoned. If I can make it another hour and then I can walk away for a bit. She nearly jumped out of her skin as her phone buzzed suddenly to life on the edge of her desk. Absently she reached for it and couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as the familiar name flashed on the screen. With a shake of her head, she swiped to answer the call. “Tom.” 
His warm laughter filled her ear and pulled another smile to her face. “Rosie, darling, how are you?”
“Lay off the charm, Hiddleston,” she joked, rubbing the back of her neck absently with her free hand. “Now to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” 
Another warm laugh. God did he have any idea the chaos he could unleash with that laugh? She shook her head trying to clear that errant thought away. 
“Gods, you do wonders for my ego.” 
Rosemary smirked, “I do my best.” 
It had been two weeks since she and Tom had shared Chinese take-away in her small flat. The conversation that first night had been slightly stilted after the emotional levity of the hour before, but it was still infinitely better than she could have hoped. And, in all honesty, than she had expected. It was still nowhere near the ease they had shared in years past, both too much and yet too little time had passed for that to occur once more. But it had been a start and for that she’d been grateful. 
Tom hadn’t lingered long after they’d finished their meal, thanking her profusely for both the food and her time. He’d hesitated briefly at the door as she’d walked him out before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She’d stood frozen, butterflies rioting in her chest as he wish her a pleasant evening and closed the door behind him. 
And over those two weeks they had spoken often, mostly by phone though they had occasionally met at various cafés for coffee. Things were simple and unhurried between them. No pressures just the slow process of getting to know each other once more. And for that she’d been incredibly grateful. 
She had been adamant with herself that this time she wouldn’t throw herself blindly into him, into them. They had rushed headlong into their doomed affair without a second thought, and in doing so, had both paid the price. She could not, would not, do that again. 
“…So what do you think?” 
Rosemary shook her head violently, forcing herself back into the present, and realized she’d missed nearly everything he’d said. “I’m sorry, Tom, what?” 
Tom’s chuckle echoed in her ear, “I was asking if you were possibly free for lunch today.” 
She paused, weighing her answer. They had made great leaps in such a short time and she very much wanted to see him. They had met several times for coffee but hadn’t shared a meal since that first night. 
The knock on the doorframe was so soft that at first Rosemary hadn’t been sure she’d heard it. But then it sounded again. Her head jerked up. Jules stood silently in the doorway, a rueful smile spread across her features. She started slightly at the sight before silently waving Jules into the office. 
“Can I take a raincheck on that lunch?” 
She heard a shuffling from Tom’s end. “Sure,” She wondered briefly if the disappointment she heard in his voice was of her own invention or actually there, but quickly brushed the thought off.  “Just let me know when?” 
“I will. Talk later?” She let her own hope color her words, refusing to think further into why that troubled her. 
His warm laughed echoed again in her ear. “Alright, darling. Speak soon.” 
Rosemary let out a small sigh and placed the phone back onto her desk. She turned her attention towards Jules’ uneasy form. She’d walked into the office at Rosemary’s insistence but remained hovering near the doorway. “What can I help you with, Jules?” The unease on Jules’ face unnerved her and a sudden fear bubbled through Rosemary. “Is everything alright with Ingrid and the baby?” 
This seemed to calm Jules slightly and she relaxed her shoulders, walking towards the desk and settling into the chair across. “Yes, she and the little one, she had a boy, did I not tell you?, are fine. She was discharged last week. The baby, David he’s called, is still in NICU but Frank says the doctors think he should be ready to come home in another week or so if his lungs keep developing at the rate they are. So all good there.” 
Rosemary smiled, reaching out to grasp Jules hand and squeeze it gently. “That’s fantastic, I’m so glad everything is well with them.” 
Jules offered her a genuine smile. “Me too.” 
Silence fell between them once again. 
“Is everything alright with the shop? Please tell me that Jordan isn’t completely messing up the shipments…again.” 
Jules laughed, shaking her head. “No more than usual. Everything is fine, Evan’s holding up far better than I expected him to. He may be worth his salt after all.” Both women chuckled. “Online orders are holding well too. And things are good here?” 
Rosemary nodded. “Yeah, Hanna is well worth her weight in gold.” She paused, smiling. “The shop here is doing far better than I hoped it would.” 
“I’m so glad. I know Stories has been your baby for a long time now. You’re doing Agnes and Henry proud, you know.” She offered Rosemary a warm smile. 
Stories Untold had been a small but well maintained bookshop under Agnes and Henry Goode, something they had started after retirement to keep each other occupied and to fulfill a childhood dream of Agnes’.  Both Rosemary and Jules had been two of the first people hired on. They had watched the shop grow and when Agnes’ health had gotten too poorly for her or Henry to continue with its upkeep, Rosemary had jumped at the chance to take the shop under her own wing with their blessing. It had been a challenge and one she’d frequently feared she’d ultimately fail at. Jules had been beside her through the thick and thin. Having her support and her belief had meant the world. 
“I hope so.” 
Jules took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. “I’m sorry.” 
Taken aback, Rosemary stared at the woman sitting before her. 
When she didn’t respond, Jules carried on, “I know you’ve been angry with me and things haven’t been right between us, not since that last lunch…Or well since the morning after our quest to drink greater London out of wine,” She laughed nervously and ran a hand through her hair, “Anyway, I miss my friend. And I want to try to mend this.” 
Rosemary did not speak for several minutes, staring first at the desk before her then at her hands. Jules was undoubtedly one of her closest friends and the strain between them had been a difficult burden to bear. Most of the anger she’d felt had faded, more of tiny flame than the raging inferno, but there was still an unease between them that unsettled her. She had always trusted Jules’ judgement, as opinionated as her friend was Jules usually saw things with a level head. And while she could understand Jules’ hesitance in trusting Tom and his motives, Rosemary found it difficult to reconcile. “I miss you too,” she finally spoke, raising her eyes to Jules. “And I know I’ve not been the easiest person to deal with; taking my anger out on you was unnecessary and not at all fair. But can you understand why?” 
Jules nodded slowly, “I don’t like Tom. You know that, not after what he did. He didn’t see the mess he left, I did. And I know how you were with him and I couldn’t bear to see you hurt again. You are as good as a sister to me, Rose, and it kills me to see you hurt. But I pushed too far and, drunk or not, I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry for that. Really I am.” 
“No you shouldn’t have.” Her tone was harsher than she had intended. She shook her head briefly and carried on. “But I do understand. At least partially. You care. You are the closest thing I have to a sister as well. But Jules, I am an adult. I can make my own choices as to what I can and cannot handle. And if I fall flat then that is on me. Trust that given time I can pull myself up and dust myself off and move on.”   
Jules smiled softly at Rosemary and nodded. She was silent for several moments before locking her eyes on Rosemary and asking, “Are we okay?”
Rosemary shrugged. “We’re friends, that hasn’t changed. But I’m still…I understand why you pushed, but it doesn’t mean that I’m fully sure I can completely forgive you for doing so.” She paused, reaching her hand out towards Jules’ and grasping it firmly in hers. “But I don’t want to be angry with you anymore. It’s not solving anything. I just need you to trust me and my own judgement. Please.” 
Squeezing her hand in return, Jules chuckled and then nodded, “I can’t guarantee I won’t make a right mess of it, but I can try.” 
“That’s all I ask.” 
“So,” Jules started, her eyes glancing briefly at the phone then back towards her friend, “who’s the raincheck on?” 
Rosemary smiled softly, knowing that this would certainly put their new found truce to the test. In for a penny…She straightened in her seat, resting her elbows neatly on the desk, her hands folded before her. “Tom.” 
She could see Jules slight start at the name. “Oh. So you patched things up?” The concern and hesitancy in her voice was clear as was the fact that she was holding back. 
“We’re trying,” Rosemary answered honestly. She shrugged. “We’ve been talking off and on for the last few weeks or so. It’s been…” she struggled to find a suitable word, “honestly really nice.” 
Jules nodded but did not speak. Rosemary could see the wheels turning in her head. The silent ‘are you sure this is a good idea’ that screamed in her eyes. “So,” she started, leaning her hands on her thighs, “how did this happen?” 
Rosemary let out a soft sigh, “He came by my flat. He apologized, I apologized. We talked, we were honest with each other.” She paused, shrugging lightly. It was nice to talk about Tom to someone. Even if Jules appeared dubious, at least she’d told someone. “He is a friend, or at least I want him to be. I missed him, Jules. Missed being able to talk to him. Can you understand that?” 
“I don’t know, Rose. Really I don’t…I want to trust that you know what you are doing because usually you do. You are one of the most level headed people I know, but with him…You’re a smart woman…Just be careful, okay. Don’t let him talk you into something you aren’t ready for. Please just try to keep your head.” Jules held up her hand at Rosemary’s stuttered protests. “You are my friend and I worry, but you are more than capable of making your own decisions and knowing what you want. Just make sure you think it through.” She smiled warmly at Rosemary, her hands resting in her lap. “That’s all I’m going to say.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Rosemary sighed, “I understand what you are saying, Jules. But it’s my life, my choice. He is my friend. That is all, I’m not going to make that same mistake again. You need to trust me and trust that I can learn from the past.” 
“Okay. Okay.” Jules pushed herself up from the chair and looked knowingly at her friend. “I was going to head out to grab a bite before heading back to the shop. You interested?” 
Rosemary smiled softly in return. “Any chance of a change in venue?” 
She watched Jules’ red brow quirk and a wicked grin spread across her face. “From our usual? Perish the thought!” 
With a roll of her eyes, Rosemary stood and beckoned her friend. “Come on then.”
                                                          — 
 “So sorry it’s taken me so long to ring back.” Rosemary settled herself onto her couch, trying to suppress a groan. Lunch with Jules had been nice, still a bit tense round the edges, but nice all the same. She’d missed her friend and being able to start to mend that bridge had taken a weight off her mind. There was still a ways for them to go, but for now she had her friend back. 
The rest of the day had been relatively uneventful, frustrating mounds of paperwork notwithstanding; Hanna had been taking on more and more of the daily routines and was now practically starting to run the shop on her own. She would give it another week or so before she began to transition back to the original location and then flit back and forth as needed. It was almost bittersweet. 
“Darling, that is quite alright.” His voice was warm in her ear and she fought the urge to groan again. “Busy day, I take it?” 
Rosemary nodded and when it dawned on her that he could not, in fact, see her response answered, “Yes. The shop’s doing well. Both are actually.” She laughed softly. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” She sat fully upright, frowning as her stomach gave a grumble of protest. It had been several hours since lunch, something her body was obviously not pleased about. Alright then let’s see what we’ve got to work with. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled into the kitchen. 
“I do,” Tom answered. She could hear the smile in his voice. “But I seriously doubt that it will happen. You have a good head on your shoulders and from what you’ve told me you have good people working with and for you. I think you’ll be alright.” 
The fridge wasn’t as barren as she’d feared. ­Thank god for small miracles. Pulling out the container of Alfredo sauce she’d found, and cautiously sniffed just to be safe, Rosemary went in search of whatever pasta was to hand. 
Rosemary sighed as she pulled open the cabinet door. “I know, I know. But you know my mind sometimes.” Tom laughed at this, pulling smile to her face. She pulled down a box and studied it Spaghetti it is then. “I saw Jules today, we hadn’t had a chance to catch up in a while. So that was lovely.” Phone balanced precariously between her ear and shoulder, she carried her boon to the stovetop. She grabbed the pot sitting on the back burner and headed for the sink, quickly filling it. As she turned to make her way back towards the stove the phone slipped and fell with a clatter to the floor. “Shit!” She dropped the pot hastily on the stove and dove for her phone, mumbling curses under her breath. “So, so sorry. I am the worst sort of klutz,” she apologized. She hit the speaker function and placed the phone carefully onto the counter. 
“You quite alright there, Rosie?” 
Rosemary laughed, trying to cover her sudden flustering nervousness. “Yeah, I was just attempting to multi-task and failing horribly. Apparently I cannot handle talking on the phone and cooking at the same time. I kind of dropped you.” 
Tom laughed heartily. “Oh my dear, what am I ever going to do with you?” 
“God knows.” She set the pot to boil and headed back into the living room but not before grabbing a package of crisps. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with me.” She ripped open the package and settled onto the couch. She popped a few of the crisps into her mouth, it wasn’t much but god she was starving. 
“So how is Jules? You’ve not spoken of her recently?” 
Rosemary sighed, resting her head back against the headrest of the couch. “She’s well. We had lunch today. It’s been awhile since…” She trailed off, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “We had a bit of a falling out a month or so back.” 
“Seriously?” The confusion was evident in his voice. “Over what?” 
She hesitated. 
“Rosie?” Tom urged. She could plainly hear the dawning knowledge in his voice and his need to hear her actually say it. 
A deep sigh fell from her lips, “You…Technically. She was drinking with me that night…She may or may not have been the catalyst for that stupid call.” She sat up more fully and rested her forehead against her upturned hand. “I was upset and angry with her for putting the damned idea in my head and for being so against me even talking to you…I told her off and we stopped talking about everything save the bloody shop.” 
“Oh Rosie…” 
“Don’t Tom.” Her voice was tighter than she’d intended. “It’s over. She and I will be fine. We always are. We’ve talked and I’ve made it clear that I am capable of making my own choices. So don’t worry about it.” 
A hissing from the kitchen snapped her attention back to the present. “Shit!” she shouted as she jumped from the couch and scrambled into the kitchen. 
“What?” Tom’s voice shouted in her ear. “What’s wrong?” 
Hitting the speaker button again, she placed the phone on the counter. “The blasted water is boiling over,” she hissed as she grabbed the pot and lifted it from the heat. Once the water settled, placed it back on the burner. She grabbed the package of spaghetti and emptied it into the pot. 
“Careful or you’ll burn the place down.” 
“Ha, bloody ha, Hiddleston. I can actually cook you know.” She stirred the pasta into the water and left it to return to a boil, setting the kitchen timer before walking back into the living room. “It’s not my fault I was distracted.” 
Tom laughed, “If you insist, darling.” 
“And if I do?” She queried, settling back onto the couch. He laughed again. “So Tom, about that rain check? Are you free tomorrow afternoon by any chance?” 
He groaned and she could clearly see him rubbing his temples with his hand. “I can’t.” 
She tried to stifle the initial wave of disappointment. “Oh...” 
“I have a lunch meeting with my manager tomorrow. But I’m free the day after. Would that be alright?” 
Rosemary smiled. “That would be perfect.” 
Next Chapter
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winterisakiller · 6 years ago
Text
Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two
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Chapter: 2/19
Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.
Rating: T (for now)
Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.
This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username: winterisakiller (sparkinside)
Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77
Previous Chapter
CHAPTER TWO
 “So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.
She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven. 
Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed… 
Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.” 
A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy. 
Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening. 
Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish. 
The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head. 
“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?” 
Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through. 
Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph. 
Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet. 
Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?” 
“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question. 
Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.” 
“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…” 
“It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.” 
Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.” 
“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.” 
“Rose…” 
She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.” 
Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word. 
Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.” 
“I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled. 
Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.” 
“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.” 
She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.” 
                                                          ___
  “Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the Stories Untold family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.” 
The newest Stories location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease. 
It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately. 
“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary. 
“Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task. 
Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.” 
A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos. 
Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.
                                                             ____
 “Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in? 
Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her. 
Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago. 
Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter. 
“We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.” 
Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.” 
Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.” 
“So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” Professional, she told herself, I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head. 
It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.” 
Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?” 
Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”
Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest. 
She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.” 
Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?” 
Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.” 
A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?” 
He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful. 
She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…” 
He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?” 
Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she. 
He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?” 
Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.” 
                                                          ___
  It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. Pathetic, she chided herself. You are completely, ridiculously pathetic. 
Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something. 
Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat. 
“Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door. 
The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?” 
Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.” 
Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?” 
Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.” 
Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully. 
“I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room. 
“General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table. 
Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully. 
“So…Movie?” 
Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?” 
Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.” 
A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”
                                                            ___
  The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.” 
Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!” 
Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them. 
It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?” 
“Rosie?” 
The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?” 
“Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone. 
She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom! “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!” 
A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.” 
“S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point. 
“I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.” 
Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?” 
Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.” 
“Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant. 
“No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…” 
She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not that bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat. 
“Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.” 
She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?” 
“I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now. 
In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. Damn him. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now. 
“Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?” 
“Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly not a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were. 
“Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.” 
She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…” 
“Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass. 
Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”
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winterisakiller · 6 years ago
Text
Love & Great Buildings: Chapter Four
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Chapter: 4/19
Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.
Rating: T (for now)
Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.
This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username: winterisakiller (sparkinside)
Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77
Previous Chapter
CHAPTER FOUR
  Rosemary cracked her eyes open, squinting in the bright sunlight that had flooded the room. It took several minutes for her to shake the disorientation of sleep off enough to recognize the familiar cluttered mess of Jules’ living room. She sat up and immediately regretted such hasty action. Her vision swam and it felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to her temples. Repeatedly. “Oh God,” she croaked and winced at the grating sound of her own voice. “Kill me now.” 
A pained groan sounded from somewhere near the couch. Jules. Rosemary took a perverse sort of pleasure knowing that she wasn’t the only one feeling much like death warmed over. God, they had sorely overdone it. 
“Only if you kill me first.” Jules’ voice was muffled by several layers of blanket that, in any other circumstance, would have been utterly hysterical. 
“Not quite how that works.” 
She fumbled feebly for her purse, seeking the blessed paracetamol she kept stored there. And water. God, she needed water. But water was in the kitchen. Going to the kitchen involved standing. Standing was something she knew she absolutely did not want to do. She silently cheered as her fingers clutched around the small, plastic bottle and pulled it from her bag. Step one, complete. Now came the hard part. 
Gritting her teeth, Rosemary struggled to pull herself first onto her knees and then slowly, so so slowly, to her feet. The world only faded in and out of focus for a few moments and once it settled, she steeled herself for the harrowing journey towards the kitchen. I am never drinking again. 
One cautious step and then another. Slowly, she stumbled into the kitchen, blatantly ignoring the switch for the overhead light. She very much doubted she could handle the bright flickering of fluorescent lighting at this point. The kitchen was dim, the lighting from the hall providing enough illumination for Rosemary to locate and grab a glass from the cabinet above the sink. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing another and shutting the cabinet door. If she was in desperate need of water than no doubt so was Jules. 
Two glasses full of cool tap water, Rosemary made her way back into the living room. She paused at the lump of blankets on the couch. “Water,” She intoned before setting the glass onto the wooden top of the coffee table. A pale arm poked its way out from beneath the covers and the voice underneath mumbled thanks. 
Rosemary laughed, wincing at the pain it caused. Right. Paracetamol. She needed paracetamol and now. She grabbed the pill bottle she’d placed on the table and deftly popped its lid, pouring two tablets into her hand. She washed them down with water and walked back towards Jules’ prone form. 
“Here,” she stated, dropping the bottle on top of the blankets. 
Jules pulled the covers off her head, grimacing at the brightness. “Please tell me you threw paracetamol at me. Because if you tossed a packet of gum on me I will kill you.” She attempted to glare at Rosemary but the effect was diminished by her overall look of pained confusion. 
“You’d have to catch me first, sunshine, and in such a state I think I can outrun you, hangover or no.” Rosemary smirked, taking pity on her pathetic friend, grabbed the bottle and thrust it into Jules’ outstretched hand. 
“Bless you.” 
“I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” Rosemary quipped, “You are a bloody bitch when you’re hungover and I can only deal with one of those at a time.” 
Jules only response was a raised middle finger. 
Rosemary cocked an eyebrow, laughed, and then grimaced as another stab of pain flooded her temples.  She slowly lowered herself back onto her makeshift bed on the floor and grabbed the glass she’d left on the edge of the table. She quickly downed the rest of her water and closed her eyes, praying that the medication would kick in soon. It would be nice to not feel like her head was going to explode at any moment. 
                                                          ___
She awoke again several hours later feeling marginally more human. Pushing herself up she made a quick dash to the bathroom and then back into the kitchen for more water. She found Jules there, sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping a still steaming mug of coffee. 
“Is there any more of that?” Jules nodded at the French press on the counter and Rosemary wasted no time grabbing her own mug. “I know I should stick with water right now, but fuck me if I actually care at the moment.” 
Jules snorted into her mug. “Same.” 
Blessed caffeine flooded her system and she felt almost human again. She cocked her head at her friend. “What time is it?” 
“Time for you to invest in a watch.” 
Rosemary rolled her eyes, “Ha, very funny. Your wit astounds me.” 
Jules smirked, “I do my best.” She took another sip of coffee. “Half one I think.” 
Had she not placed her mug on the counter it would have fallen from her hands and clattered to the floor. “What?” she breathed. 
Fucking hell. Fucking, fucking, FUCKING hell! 
She dashed back into the living room. She heard Jules splutter after her, but paid it little mind. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed her bag from the floor and tore through it searching desperately for her phone. She had to call the store, had to make sure everything was alright. Max and Hanna were there by themselves. Yes, she had trained them and she knew they knew what they were doing; but fucking hell she was supposed to be at the shop until things got firmly settled. 
But the damned thing wasn’t there. She cursed aloud, dumping the contents onto the floor and shifting through them. Maybe she’d missed it. 
No, it wasn’t there. She let out a groan of frustration. Come on, Mathews, think! Had she used her phone after she’d left the shop that evening? She had a half hazy memory of holding her phone…By the couch! 
Rosemary jumped up and darted for the couch. She finally found it hidden underneath one of the couch cushions. How it had gotten there she didn’t know. But she’d found it.  She made quick work of unlocking the screen. She opened the dial screen then the ‘recent calls’ log; half fearing she’d missed their call. She let her eyes fall to the screen and nearly dropped her phone. All thought of the store and of Max and Hanna flew from her mind.
 Oh no! No. No. No.  Please, god, no. 
She stared at the ‘recent calls’ log in abject horror. Tom’s name was there. Why the fuck was his name there? And at two in the morning? The log listed the call as lasting nearly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes? Oh dear god in heaven… 
A cold dread settled in her stomach. What the fuck had she done? 
“Please god, Jules, tell me you didn’t let me call Tom last night…” Her voice shook with both fear and humiliation. Of all the stupid fucking things… 
Jules stood in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed at her chest, momentary confusion clouded her features. “What?” 
Rosemary paced the living room, hands clenched at her sides, mind racing. “Tom. I called Tom last night…Or well this morning. Why did I do that?” She groaned and covered her face with her hands. 
“Because he’s a tit,” Jules retorted, matter of fact. 
Rosemary flushed in anger, “But that doesn’t mean I need to call him pissed out of my mind and tell him that now do I?” 
Jules shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. “To be fair, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. You know that anything I say after a bottle and a half of wine is not to be trusted…” 
“SOBER me knows that!” Rosemary hissed back, cutting Jules off. “But drunk me apparently can’t be fucking trusted.” 
Snippets of conversation flashed in her mind. Her own angry voice slinging accusations and Tom’s confused and hurt replies. She felt her chest tighten as she fought to breathe. If she’d said half the things she thought she had…She shut her eyes tightly, trying to quell the panic that was roiling inside her. 
Not good. Very, very not good. 
“You okay?” 
“No.” She shook her head and slumped onto the couch, cradling her head in her hands. She heard Jules’s light footsteps and then felt the couch dip under her weight as Jules settled beside her.
“It’ll be alright,” Jules reassured as she wrapped an arm around Rosemary’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “So you told him off, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.” 
Rosemary snapped her head up. “You don’t get it, Jules. What I said…Or think I said, I can’t remember for sure…Jules, I had no right. None!” 
She took a deep, trying to calm herself. It was little use. Her brain refused to be silent; fragments of her words, hazy and disjointed echoed loudly. 
‘Arrogant, self-righteous bastard…’ 
‘…No wonder you can’t get your shit together.’ 
‘What I ever saw in you…’
Rosemary shook her head, trying to clear the words and the rising sense of shame they brought. She’d been callous and cruel and the worst part was she couldn’t remember half of it. She was certain she was about to be sick. Head between your legs, the belated thought skittered across her mind. Put your head between your legs and breathe. 
So she did. 
And slowly the panic began to recede and she could breathe without gasping. Belatedly, she felt Jules stand and heard her steps as she shuffled from the room. And then she was alone. 
She found herself staring at the phone she’d dropped onto the coffee table. It sat there, inert and seemingly harmless. Without conscious thought she bent and picked it up, turning the screen on with a few taps of her fingers. Her hands shook as she stared at his name in her contacts list. 
All of the anger and uncertainty of the day before had faded. She hadn’t forgotten what he had done and how it had hurt her but it didn’t seem nearly as important. All she wanted was to fix this. To fix the shaky truce they had at least been trying to build. To heal the hurt she caused. But actually reaching out and doing so terrified her beyond words. 
But if I don’t try… 
Rosemary took a steadying breath and with shaking hands hit dial.   
The phone rang once, then twice. And then a click and the line disconnected. Her heart sunk like a stone in her chest as she realized what had happened with a sick and certain dread. He’d hung up on her. She couldn’t blame him; not in the slightest. Hell, she would have hung up on her too. Guilt gnawed in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what to do. She could feel the desperate panic of uncertainty roaring its ugly head. 
Just try again, her brain urged. You need to try. 
With determination Rosemary redialed and held her breath. Three rings this time. Her mind whirled. She had no idea what she should say, or even could say, but knowing she had to say something regardless. Knowing that she had to try to apologize, to fix the mess she’d unleashed. There was a pause and then his voicemail kicked in.
“Tom...it…it’s Rosie. I know you probably…” She halted and tried to gather her thoughts. “There is so much I need to…I’m sorry. Please, just call me back. Please.” She hung up quickly, and let out a shuddering breath. This was not the sort of conversation she could have with his voicemail. Doing so would lead to more confusion and the real, and terrifying, risk of further pain and misunderstanding. She needed to talk to him and he wouldn’t talk to her. She didn’t know what to do. 
Rosemary closed her eyes and tried to think. Panic and indecision whirled within her. What could she do? How could she get him to answer the phone and let her explain; let her apologize? She didn’t have the first idea but she couldn’t sit back and do nothing. 
Without a word, she shoved her scattered belongings back into her purse and grabbed her coat from where she had tossed it the night before. She needed to think and she couldn’t do that here. She called a farewell to Jules and shivered as she stepped into the weak sunlight of the late winter afternoon. 
The wind was brisk as she sped her way towards the Underground station a few blocks from Jules’ door. She pulled her coat tightly against her and joined the queue down the escalator and into the station. She boarded the next train, still lost in her thoughts and it wasn’t until she looked up and realized that her change point was two stops back that she fully came back to herself. 
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Nothing for it but to get off at the next station and switch trains there. But the next stop came and went and she remained on the train. She didn’t think about what she was doing until she saw a familiar station come into sight. 
Rosemary stood and exited the carriage with cautious determination. If he wouldn’t answer when she called then she would go to him. 
                                                         ___
Rosemary pressed the buzzer on the black metal gate before shoving her hands back into the pockets of her coat. It was absolutely freezing and she resisted the urge to hop from foot to foot to keep warm. As she stood, her mind flashed back to the last time she’d stood here and the uncertainty and dread she’d felt then. The more things change, the more they stay the same. 
She jumped as Tom’s garbled voice came over the speaker above the buzzer. “What?”
“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, but please I need to talk to you. Just give me ten minutes of your time. Please.” Her voice shook at the very real possibility that he wouldn’t open the door. She put on a brave face, if he didn’t then it would be nothing less than she deserved. 
Several minutes of silence passed. Rosemary blinked back tears and prepared herself to walk away. The clink of the gate unlocking stunned her into immobility momentarily. She blinked for several seconds before pulling it open and walking towards the front door, heart pounding in her chest. 
Tom stood in the doorway, blue eyes cold and sharp as steel, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. This was such a far cry from the warm and caring man she’d known. He stepped aside without a word and she made her way into the warmth of the entry way. Her eyes darted around the hallway, taking in the familiar simplicity of his home. She was heartened to see that despite the years, nothing much had changed. Tom still hadn’t spoken and she fought to maintain a steady grip on her emotions. He’d let her in. That was something. 
Without a word, she made her way quickly into the living room. Again, she was heartened to see the familiar walls of books and simple but comfortable furniture. She felt rather than saw Tom follow behind her. His silent presence was unnerving and she fought the urge to turn tail and run. She refused to be a coward. 
They settled; her on the chair near the window and him on the sofa several feet away. Neither spoke. The silence in the room was near deafening and Rosemary wanted nothing more than for it to break. But Tom wasn’t talking and she feared that if left to his own devices, he wouldn’t say another word to her. 
Rosemary could feel his eyes boring into her and she fought to keep herself from flinching. She took a deep breath and braced her hands on her knees, trying desperately to think of where to start, what she could possibly say. The truth, her mind screamed. Tell him the truth. You owe him that at the very least. 
“Tom, I just…I don’t…” She stumbled over her thoughts and had to stop to gather herself before trying again. “God, Tom,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. She could feel his eyes on her and the words nearly stuck in her throat. Still she pushed onward, needing to apologize even though she knew there was little chance she could. “I am so so sorry for last night. I was completely out of my head. I shouldn’t have said that. I had no right to…” 
“Which part?” He asked cutting her off. His voice was level but she could detect the hint of underlying tension as he seemed to struggle in vain to contain himself. “The part where you called me ‘an arrogant, self-centered, selfish, prick of a bastard’ or when you said that I only date blonde, dimwitted pop stars and Hollywood starlets because they are the only ones who can put up with my ‘massive ego’ and ‘desperate need to be a media whore’? I’m paraphrasing here, mind you, but I think I got the gist of it.” 
Rosemary squeezed her eyes shut. That summer had always been a sore spot for Tom and she’d known it. He rarely, if ever, talked of it but when he had she had clearly seen and understood the toll it had taken on him. Throwing that in his face had been nothing short of cruel. 
She’d never felt so wretched in her entire life. He’d hurt her, yes. God had he hurt her. But he’d never done so intentionally. He’d been misguided and selfish, but he’d never set out with the intent to cause her pain. She had. She’d wanted him to hurt like she’d hurt so she used the one thing she knew without a doubt would leave him bleeding. 
“All if it.” The words were barely a whisper and with great effort she raised her head and met his gaze. “I know it’s too little too late but I am so, so sorry. I had no right to throw any of that at you. It’s not true and I had absolutely no right to say it. I wish I could take it back. I wish I’d never said it in the first place.” Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks and she wiped them away as quickly as she could. She didn’t have the right to be upset. Not at this. She wasn’t the injured party in this and she damn well knew it. 
Tom sat in stony silence, his eyes burning with hurt and fury as he stared first at her and then at the table before him. She tried to ignore the shiver of unease his gaze sent up her spine. She wished he would speak, would say something, anything. 
“Well you did say it and you can’t take it back. That’s the funny thing about words, whether your intent is to help or harm, once they’re out there, you can’t take them back.” 
Rosemary drew a shuddering breath and fought to regain her composure. He was right, of course. She’d known it from the second she’d realized just what she had done. And she couldn’t change it. “I know that, I do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish it weren’t the case.” She paused, taking another deep breath and gathering herself once more. “I was drunk and angry and I wanted to hurt you. It’s not an excuse, I don’t have any excuse for lashing out at you. But I did and it was wrong. So very wrong of me. I know that that doesn’t fix or solve anything, but I am so dreadfully sorry.” 
It was Tom’s turn to breathe deeply. His eyes drifted closed for a moment and his face clenched then relaxed. “I know you’re sorry, Rosemary, but right now that is simply not enough.” He paused again, resting his hands on his knees. “I get that I hurt you and that I’ve been a selfish, cowardly prick but you took it too far and I can’t deal with that. Not now.” He scrubbed his jaw with his left hand. “I think I’d like you to go now.” 
She flinched as if struck but quickly gathered herself and nodded silently. Fair enough, she thought. That is bloody fair enough. Without another word she grabbed her purse from the floor beside her chair and walked quietly out of the house.
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