#and that i am completely petrified by the idea of someone seeing something before i've polished it. my drafts are ROUGH

[cuips-not-cute]

i hope that everyone realizes that the typos in my fics are not from lack of effort but rather the result of me being dumb as hell

[a-mended-pact]

Unsteady Keys: Chapter 9

A/n: Hey everyone. I hope you're all doing well. I'm pretty proud of this chapter. Please let me know what you think.

Warnings: this chapter does contain flashbacks, mentions of slightly toxic relationships. Mentions of Spencer's mom. Panic attacks. If there are anything more to add let me know

Requests are open

Word count : 3,024

It's been a couple of hours since we've gotten to work. I couldn't find Spencer anywhere. I needed to tell him that there was a lead on Lindsey due to Simmons giving Ethan a cognitive interview. I had called him a handful of times and gotten no answer.  Which is weird but with everything that's happened he has every right to have some alone time. I was still trying to call him when I found him in Morgan's old office. I don't know why I checked the cafeteria and the break room first. I felt myself facepalm as I looked around the room. 

He was in a daze and hadn't even noticed my presence until I moved myself into the floor across from him. I leaned against the desk for support as I looked up at him. He glanced at me and then looked away. The hand he was using to prop his head up seemed to tense. 

'You smell like mint and your cologne.' I said it with a small amount of amusement.  I knew he would change. It didn't bother me if anything. I'm surprised he even went to work with the smell of my essence laced into his skin and his breath. He nodded to acknowledge what I had said. 

'Love? Is everything alright?' He looked at me then and held my gaze. 'I know I said I'd talk to Ethan too but I can't seem to bring myself to. Seeing him for longer than a couple of hours has me remembering things with him so intensely.' 

A soft comforting smile formed on my face as I gently grabbed the hand that rested on his knee and squeezed. 'There's a lead on Lindsey.  I was going to leave with the rest of the team to go check it out. If you wanna stay here I can tell Em. Maybe you can get something more from Ethan. Then Matt did. ' I kissed his forehead gently.

Just like that. I left him to his own devices letting him figure everything out for himself.  I was gonna need to tell Em he wasn't coming.

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

I walked into the interrogation room with Ethan and undid his handcuffs immediately.  I didn't like seeing him like an unsub. So until further evidence came about I wasn't going to treat him as such. 

'You look like you've seen a ghost Reid.  What's wrong?' I looked at him as I stood against the wall. 'Did- did you?- ' I found myself stuttering and searching for words. My hands moved about as if I were trying to grasp each word that flew around my mind until it formed a sentence. How do you speak to someone that you haven't spoken to in years? Not in depth anyway. 

'You're a big hot shot Mr. FBI. Married, professor most likely with a couple books published or at least articles and yet you are still just the same man I adored back then.' He spoke with care and love in his voice as he watched my face blanch at what he said.

If it wasn't for the fact he has seen me this way before I would have been far more embarrassed then I was. My mouth was still opening and closing and my hands had finally stopped. 'Did you? Was it you? I- was it you that hurt me? With the blade?' 

I had finally managed to collect my words and form a complete sentence even if it was laced with fear and sorrow. I was terrified he'd say yes. I was even more petrified if he said no. If he hadn't done it then I'd have nothing to hold against him. 

There was no way I could remain upset about something that happened in college and it wouldn't make me seem like an upset child. I hadn't bothered to meet Ethan's eyes. I was honestly too afraid of what he'd see residing in my own. 

I didn't hear him move and I didn't notice how close he got until he spoke. Making me jump and look out of the two way glass. This was a bad idea. I need to get out of here. I feel like the room is shrinking. 

Ethan cupped my face and forced me to look at him. The fact that this was being recorded made me even more nervous. What if the rest of the team found out what happened between us.

I finally met his gaze. I knew my eyes probably reminded him of the first time he ever hurt me. This time had nothing to do with the kiss I walked in on years ago.

'Spencer.' As he spoke his thumb traced my jaw. 'I would never. I could never hurt you.' I laughed bitterly and flinched when his thumb met the side of my lips. 'This was a mistake. I - I need some fresh air'. I quickly rushed out, locking the door behind me. 

I blew out a breath I didn't realize I was holding within my lungs as I felt my breathing start to quicken. I made my way to the roof of the building that no one really used. I slid down the door as I made it fully outside.  

I watched as the sun began to set. The sky turned different colors until emerging me in full darkness besides for the buildings lights I closed my eyes. Why do I feel like a young adult all over again? Why am I letting him get under my skin? The worst part was that he isn't even trying to make me feel like this.

One minute I was on the rooftop the next I was in the band room of our college laying on the ground with my head resting on Ethan's jacket as he played the piano.

'I could fall asleep to the sound of you playing. You know.' I said as each key played from his fingertips. His cologne was all over me because we may or may not have been making out on the floor before I scolded him that he needed to practice. He had a big concert event coming up. 

'I could think of better things to do in here than you falling asleep.' His voice was teasing, making me blush.  It had only been a few weeks since our first actual time together and in all honesty it made me nervous just thinking about it. Ethan seemed to want to sleep together constantly.  Which is fine. I loved having sex with him but sex was never something I thought I'd experience so I'd much rather be reading or learning something new.

Just the other day we got into an argument because I turned him down. 

I was sitting in a lecture with the man that created the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The BAU for short. At the time, I didn't want to get laid. I wanted to learn more about how learning to understand a serial killer could help catch them. I was deeply intrigued and asked many questions as the lecture hall went on.

'You know you did ditch me for some cop I don't see why now would be a bad time to make up for it?

'A federal Agent is hardly a cop and if you can't remember his job at least remember his name. Jason Gideon.'

Ethan scoffed in small annoyance as he continued to play. Only this time the sound of the piano sounded like chase music. I felt like it should play in Tom and Jerry. 

'You can't seriously be upset with me about that?' I said trying to sound calm and collected in reality I was upset. I originally went to college to learn all the things needed to be someone that taught others. I had been debating on changing my career path for sometime now and I think I finally found it. 

'I think I wanna try to join the BAU. Gideon already told me with how interested I was in the lecture and with how smart I am. I'd make a great addition to the team.'

He smashed his fingers on the piano and groaned. 'Reid we already planned our future together. Do you really wanna give that up to join the FBI?' The way he looked at me was as if I had broken his heart. It's not that I had forgotten our plans after college. The only problem was that I used to be able to see that future and now I couldn't. 

Since the class with Gideon and all the research I've done. Working for the FBI just made sense. It would cover everything for my mother's doctor's and Care facility. Plus being able to keep a great roof over my head and food in my belly. I suppose to Ethan not living life on the edge was boring.

I shook my head to escape the memory.  Out of all the ones to have right now, why did that one resurface? My head fell in my hands as I combed my hair out of my face. My phone went off with a text from Y/n. 

'Hey, so we found her abandoned hideout but it looks like she hasn't been here in a bit. I don't know if you've gone to see him or not but I figured you could maybe get more info? If you're feeling up to it of course. Otherwise he made a bond with Matt. He can try again when we get back.'

I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to see him again. I thought I could separate my feelings towards him from this case and I know I'm not doing it. Perhaps I should step back from this case. I should talk to Emily. I know I'd still have to deal with Cat ever so often but otherwise she was my wife's problem now. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and closed my eyes. Everything just seemed like too much right now. 

'Seriously we are not doing this right now Ethan?' I was putting back on my clothes.  Situating my hair as well. 'You are not going to make me late. I refuse to miss seeing my mother again because you can't not want to sleep with me when we are alone.'

I walked around him as I grabbed my bag to take with me to go see my mom. It held some overnight clothes. I had missed the last time they were going to allow me to stay. All because I gave in to Ethan's advances to make him happy. I loved him and when we weren't bickering things were fabulous. After a year of it though it's exhausting. 

He caught me by my hips and pulled me to him. I swatted his hands away. He may not have wanted anything from me but a proper goodbye but I didn't want to give him the chance. I had already prepared myself mentally for the arguing that was gonna come from me turning him down. Me leaving him alone for long periods of time made me nervous.  

He'd never done anything to make me anxious about leaving him. He'd only go to bars and play and have a couple of drinks with other musicians.  I had accompanied him plenty of times. Nothing ever happened besides musicians talking about anything and everything underneath the shitty neon lights of the bar.

'Tell your mom I said hi and that I hope she's doing well. Also tell her I'm sorry I kept you away last time. I don't know what came over me. ' He cupped my face and went to kiss me but I turned my head slightly.  Again. I'm not taking any chances. I'd happily lose anyone or anything as long as I still had my mom.  He ended up kissing my cheek. 

A sigh escaped him as he let me go. 'I'll see you when you get back. Yeah?' I nodded and smiled at him as I headed toward the door.

'Wait, Reid. I'll be going out tonight to play. I'll message you when I arrive and when I leave. I know how you worry. Tell me when you make it to your mom's.  I love you. ' I smiled as I ran off to see my mom.

A groan escaped me. Why? I'm so sick of these memories coming up. I looked around the roof and let out another sigh. I really need to let what happens next go. Yet before I could stop my brain it quickly wraps me and surrounds me in the memory and as it unfolds like a movie before my very eyes. I kept my vision from blurring from the unleashed tears. 

Time with my mom had gone by well from when I got there until now.  She started having a violent episode one that if I had stayed would have ended in her calling me crash again.  I'd never tell her she'd hit me. I just wanted comfort. So I came home early. Well to a place Ethan and I were renting together. I hadn't told him I was on my way home.  So when I came home to an empty place I wasn't surprised. I quickly dropped off my things and ran to where I figured he'd be.  The bar with his friends. It was rare anyone would be there right now actually drinking; they should just be setting their instruments.

Only when I came in I found Ethan behind stage with a girl's tongue shoved down his throat. There clothes slightly askew He pushed her away when he realized I was there. 'Spencer this isn't what It looks like!' 

I just stood there frozen. I couldn't form a word, I could barely comprehend what I saw.  When he stepped towards me. I turned away and just walked away. I felt like my heart had just been stomped into the ground after being clawed at unintentionally by my mother. I was broken. 

That night I got multiple calls and texts from Ethan. I ignored them all. I ended up sleeping on a campus bench. Comfy truly.  

I never fully spoke to Ethan after that day.  Things with my mom got chaotic and I didn't have the time to focus on anything but getting my PhD and taking care of my mom. As long as I was busy I couldn't blame myself that I was too afraid to face Ethan.  He broke my heart and I didn't even give him the opportunity to even try to explain himself.

That was ages ago though so why am I still thinking about it. Why won't my brain just shut up. I need to get back Inside. Maybe the team is back by now. 

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

Having to find Spencer recently was starting to become a habit. I looked everywhere for him everywhere besides outside. I finally found him walking in from the stairway that led to the roof.

'Hey.' I gave him a small wave and what I hoped was a reassuring smile. This case was getting to him for obvious reasons. He honestly hasn't looked this distraught since after he came back from prison. 

His eyes widened slightly. 'Good you're all back already then?' I nodded. My eyes didn't want to leave him. I knew something had happened. I just didn't know what. Pushing him was never something I had done and I wasn't gonna start now. Maybe I'll just bring it up a little to see if he decides to tell me. If not then it can wait until he sorts out his mind.

'So we didn't find Lindsey.  We did find a couple of things though. Photos of you in Mexico. Photos of you even in the prison yard. Among others of max and you and us together.  Lindsey appears to be stalking us. Maybe it was something Cat asked her to do.  Or maybe Ethan was the one taking some of the photos.' I looked away and was staring at my hands as my brain started putting small pieces together. Theories really.

Spencer grabbed my hand gently and brought it up so I'd follow it with my eyes. 'I am actually debating on taking a step back from this case. I was gonna tell Emily and see what she thought.' The smile he gave me didn't reach his eyes. 

'Let's be honest it's probably for the best that I do. I know too much and I am far too involved, especially with Cat and Ethan both being a part of this. It's just more than I think I can handle. I could be wrong. Maybe I just need a day to breathe. I'll have to figure that out though.'

He placed my hand on his face and all I could do was rub my thumb across his jaw. I let out a small laugh suddenly. Which surprised him. 'I'm sorry it's not funny! I just kept thinking that If I pushed hard enough on your jawline would it cut me?' It was a terrible time for me to not be able to keep things to myself.  He needed me serious, right?

A laugh bellowed out of him and I could see some of the stress and pain he was carrying with him lift a little. I myself smiled too when he pulled me into his chest. 'Oh how I love you and your random thoughts.' He moved his hand to cup my cheek and leaned in as if he were gonna kiss me. 

One of our arrangements when we started dating was no PDA in the workplace if any, keep it always at a minimum. With what he was doing it was making me question if he was about to break that small rule. Not that I minded if he did or not though. 

He stroked my cheek and smiled at me as he pecked the tip of my nose and walked away.

I couldn't help but scrunch up my nose the way a bunny would. It tickled. A smile formed on my face as I watched him leave.

Taglist:

@sassymoon @rainsong01 @onlyhereforthefanfics @itsdars @dreatine

[fluffychubbyrose]

Tony Stark x Chubby Self Conscious reader.

One Shot.

Requested.

Warnings- Slight Language, Slight NSFW so slight if you blink you'll miss it, Tony Stark might be more OC than some may like, insecurities, and light bullying.

(Also I don't own any of these pictures I just made the collages.)

Tony decided today instead of staying in the tower and relaxing, maybe having a movie marathon or something that we should go shopping to get me some more clothes since I keep telling him that I only have a few outfits to wear that are comfortable when he asks why I'm wearing the same outfits again and again.

The outfits are mostly my old sweats and sweatshirts along with a couple of baggy dress shirts and dress pants that I feel comfortable lounging around the tower or going out in, because they cover me completely and hide my plushness from the prying and judging eyes of other people.

I've been wearing the same outfits on rotation for the past month or two instead of wearing the new dresses or skirts I said I loved and fit good when he bought them for me, even when they were a bit snugger and showed more skin than I'd like them to. But at the time they seemed like a great idea to get because while they were a bit snug, they were beautiful, soft, and lovely material that highlighted my figure and bust. But lately I haven't been as confident as I was when I first got those outfits and wore them around and out and about.

But now looking at myself in these dresses, skirts, and tight shirts they just show to much of me and dont look right on my body anymore, they show too many of my rolls and plushness. "You need more than a measly few outfits to wear love and you know it. If those clothes we bought didn't fit comfortably you should have just said something and we could have gotten a different style or size for you that would have been more comfortable."

He says with a sigh not budging about going shopping and seemingly pouting that I didn't tell him about the clothes not fitting comfortably until now especially since some of the ones I'm refusing to wear are his personal favorites. "I don't think they have any bigger sizes." I muttered. "Hmm what was that?" "Nothing give me a minute to get ready and we can go." I said heading to our shared bedroom to put some light makeup on, tame my hair, and change out of my sweats.

Once I'm finished I walk out and over hear Tony talking to someone so I stay behind the corner to eavesdrop. "Yeah Y/n and I are planning on going on a quick shopping spree but I'll see if she wants to go to afterwards and meet up with everyone and maybe I can talk her into getting a new bikini while we're out to wear to the beach."

"Okay we'll see you there but don't try to trick her into wearing anything she isn't comfortable with Tony." I think that was Steve he was talking to and said "we'll" see you there so is the whole team going to be there? If it's just us that could be fun but last time the "private" beach we went to was anything but. Luckily I had my one piece on and could cover up with my towel. Tony takes any opportunity and turns it into a party. "Me!?! Trick her! Never!" He said sounding appalled making me giggle and reveal my hiding spot.

Knowing very well that he's always up to something and trying to get me to do all kinds of crazy things from experiments in the lab, to getting me drunk from the expensive alcohols that he loves but I can't really stand the taste of. Knowing I was busted I walked around the corner and kissed Tony on the cheek from behind. "Oh there you are Y/n! Are you ready to go sweetheart?" He asks smirking at me with playful look for catching my eavesdropping. "Yeah I'm ready."

(Small timeskip to the shopping center.)

"Oooh I like this one!" Tony says swinging around showing me a nearly see threw black button up shirt with a plunging neckline. "Tony that's basically see threw I can't wear that!" I said embarrassed cheeks heating up at the thought of anybody seeing me in something like that. "Yes you can, if you only wear it for me!" He says with a cheeky grin. I sigh and continue look it through the rack of clothes in front of me.

Most if not all of these clothes are way to small for me. I sigh and continue down the isle looking for cute but comfy clothes that won't hug my body. Which is proving to be more and more difficult with nothing being in my size, and with Tony only picking out provocative clothing. I'm feeling more discouraged and upset by the minute deciding to give up on finding anything today I turn to tell Tony let's just go to the bathing suit store to pick out a new bathing suit for the "not a party at the beach" he managed to convince me into going to.

Until I see Tony with an armful of clothes that upon further investigation are a bunch of outfits I wanted to get but were way to small for me to wear there must be 20 something outfits in his arms while he's talking to the sales associate. "Hi, yes I need all of these 3-4 sizes bigger." He says dumping the clothes into her arms. Looking closer it looks like he got the biggest ones of each outfit which would only need to be 2-3 sizes bigger to fit me well. "I'm sorry sir but these are as big as we carry and besides these would just be a waste on someone like her if that's who their meant for. I mean no offense but they wouldn't even fit like they were made to on someone of her size." She spat sounding irritated and disgusted not apologetic by any means.

"The way they fit, or look, are up to her to decide. Not you or anyone else and say something like that again and I'll have your job by the end of the hour. So again I would like all of these 3-4 sizes bigger so they are comfortable for my girl over there." He motions to me with his head looking as pissed off as he sounds, and the way he said 'my girl' was very possessive. My eyes widen and my face heats up from embarrassment from what she said and the confrontation in general but I'm touched and happy with how he's defending me.

"And if you don't have any bigger sizes then custom tailor it to fit. If you need her measurements I'll send them to you. Here's my card and I expect to be contacted by the end of the day with all of these resized and ready for pickup." The women looks deathly pale after taking and reading the card realising she just offended Tony Stark. Knowing that his threat to her job moments ago was in fact real and emanate if she didn't comply. Seeing her so petrified makes a part of me smug knowing next time she'll think before she speaks at least.

"Yes! Right away, I'm so sorry sir they will be ready by the end of the day! You can pay for them then. I'll be right back." She squeaks out and runs off with the clothes with her head down and tail tucked between her legs hopefully feeling as embarassed and upset as am from her comments. I wrap my arms around my self with head down now that she's gone I feel tears pricking the edges of my eyes hearing her say that just proved what I've been thinking about myself is true that I'm so big that it's repulsive to be this size, hell I can't even fit into a single thing in this entire store without it being tailored to fit, that should say something.

"Hey don't listen to her sweetheart she's just jealous I'm with you and not her. Everything she said was just a spiteful lie trying to get under your skin." He says lifting my head up and wiping under my eyes where a few silent tears slipped past without me knowing. He kisses me softly and hugs me tucking me under his chin while his hands rub up and down my back. I snuggle closer with my eyes closed holding him tight. "C'mon Y/n let's go pick out that swim suit!" He says sounding excited and let's go of me grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the store and down to the next trying to get my mind off of the rude sales associate.

(Another small time skip where we just arrived at the beach.)

"Hey you guys made it!" Steve runs up in just his swim trunks, hair wet, and sand sticking to him like someone pushed him down onto the sandy shore of the beach just moments before. "Yeah we're just gonna go set up our stuff then we'll join you guys in the water." Tony replies with his arm wrapped around me. Steve smiles and nods then runs off down the beach. I'm not sure about getting into the water looking around there's a lot of strangers here all swarming the infamous Avengers wanting to get pictures with them or of them.

The beach isn't packed but it defiantly isn't as dead as it should be if just the team was here, and I don't want a rerun of what happened earlier especially now that Tony talked me into a bikini after all. Though I picked it out and hid it from his view until I changed into it. When I put it on and it actually fit really well supporting me and being snug but not tight when I wasn't expecting it to fit at all with just how small it looked, I couldn't just put it back and pick out a different one. (It's the bikini in the pic above.)

But thinking about it now I should have picked a much less revealing bikini, but I knew Tony would appreciate the colors if you know what I mean. So I put it on in the changing room and put my clothes back on over it, only taking the price tags up to the cashier so I could pay for it and said I wouldn't let him see it until we got here because I was worried I would loose my nerve and pick out another one piece bathing suit after all. Plus I knew that if I let him see me in it that we would never make it to the beach and would more than likely be banned from the store. So he's been rushing to get here and to get me out of my dress shirt and knee high shorts since I checked out at the store. "Hurry Y/n I can't wait to get into the water!" Tony yells twenty or so feet away and winks at me suggestively, dropping our things onto the sand not bothering to actually set anything up.

"Don't lie Stark you only want to see her in her new bikini! You don't really care about getting in the water!" Natasha yells back at him from a ways down the beach playing volleyball with Wanda and few other people I don't recognize against the boys. Both of them wearing their own bikinis. 'That's probably how Steve got covered in sand.' "How did you know about that?" He yelled back pouting harder than he would willingly admit, because she's seen me in my new bikini but he hasn't been aloud to. Natasha stopped playing and said something to a couple of the people I didn't recognize that were on her team and walked up with Wanda right behind her.

"Oh don't get your panties in a twist Stark she sent me and Wanda a few photos wanting some feed back before deciding which swim suit to get." She grumped at him. "But trust me you'll like what she picked out." Wanda said with a knowing smirk. My face heats up when his gaze locks with mine. "Oh I never doubted that I wouldn't like it. Now come on let's get into the water that's the whole point of going to the beach." He said pulling on my hand. "Fine but I have to take these clothes off and I'm not comfortable just stripping on the beach and you have get changed to."

I say holding my towel close to me nervous about showing so much of myself in front of everyone, especially in front of strangers. Tony not needing me to tell him twice took off to the changing rooms with his swim trunks yelling for me join him. "No way or I won't get to swim today! I'll change and be out in a few." I say while walking towards an empty room. I strip out of my clothes and look at myself in the full length mirror they had in the changing room. Feeling insecure and like this was a very bad idea all of a sudden.

Seeing all of my rolls and stretch marks in plain sight is making me feel ugly and disgusted with my self. I'm about to say hell with it all and put my clothes back on and say I'm feeling sick and that I want to go home even though Tony will know its a lie and will be worried about me, I can't handle this, I'm not ready, this is to much. That's when Tony's voice comes through the door. "Almost done in their my beautiful girl? You aren't going to keep me waiting all day are you? I could just come in there and get you if you'd prefer?" He purrs out but sounds worried.

I hurriedly wrap my towel around myself and unlock the door but I don't make a move to come out. "I'm not sure I can do this Tony. This is a bad idea I wanna go home." I'm hugging myself again degrading and upsetting thoughts are rushing through my head making me so overwhelmed that I don't notice Tony's in the changing room with me until he wraps his arms around me from behind making me jump. "Where's all of this coming from? Is it because of what that lady said earlier because she's wrong, so so wrong baby girl your beautiful in everyway!" I cringe trying not to cry knowing what he's saying is true but I can't help but let what she said and what I've been thinking lately get to me anyways.

I whimper and turn around in his arms letting him hold me again. "I'm sorry I don't know what's going on I've been more and more insecure lately for no real reason. That's why I don't wear those clothes you bought me anymore, they fit but they show to much of everything I hate and I wanted to cover up by wearing my old baggy clothes." I pull back looking up at him. Tony's silent for a moment looking at me with a thoughtful expression. "Well we'll just have to fix that now won't we?" He smiles softly grabbing my hand and leaning towards the door.

"Tony no I really don't want to go out there not like this at least." I say pulling back and looking down. "Like what? Your all covered up by your towel. I cant even see that little swim suit you bought earlier that I've been dying to see since we left the store. I love every single part of your body but if you don't want to go out there we don't have to. We can go home or stay right here in this changing room. Hell I bet if I text Capsicle he'll bring us something eat and drink then we can stay in here all day." I giggled at that imagining a confused and flustered Steve coming to the changing room bringing food and water.

"There's my girl." Tony coo's running his hands up my sides trying to tickle me. "Hey hey, No, Tony, Dont you dare!" I squeaked out jumping back hitting the wall of the changing room realizing I'm trapped my eyes widen and I'm about to yell at him again when he launches at me tickling me and I don't feel my towel falling while trying to squirm away laughing until I feel Tony's bare hands on my hips and he stops tickling me. I look up worried about the sudden stop in his "attack" and his silence until I see the desire in his eyes.

"As much as I absolutely love this." He leans close to my ear his grip tightening on my hips. "I'd love even more to see it off and on the floor." He kissed my neck once he finished. Making me gasp as heat floods my cheeks. He mumbles into my neck. "How about I show you just how beautiful you really are." Pressing his body up against mine nipping the sweet spot on my neck.

Let's just say I never got to go swimming in my new swim suit and Steve got more than just an eyeful when he came to check on us because we forgot to lock the door.

@lilacprincessofrecovery

[unholyhelbig]

Always incredible writing! Can't get enough of your storytelling and I'm sure many others can agree. Keep up the amazing stories. Prompt idea for ya since I've just been Netflixing tons of movies after work lol: Movie Tulip Fever, oldtimeAU Beca is a lowly painter who has been hired to paint a portrait of a wealthy man and his new much younger wife. She has married him to support her family. They fall in love. Btw the movie was pretty shitty lol, but I thought it would be a fun/diff idea for ya!

[A/N: Thank you so much! This movie would have been so much better if it was gay… Anyway, this is a big prompt so I could only fit so much into it. This is longer than I usually do. So if you guys want to see a part two, send me an ask about it!]  

The candle gave a soft light to the crowded room. It was an arc of brilliant yellows that was cut with a horrid orange. However, the two colors worked together in an almost therapeutic way- one tiny combination of wax and wick giving a new life to the smallest room in the house.

That was no feat; the mansion was massive- coated in royal reds and cobalt blues. Nothing was spared when it came to Garret Beale. His family being ahead of all the trade on their small island- often taking a page out of the colonist’s books and resorting to working with the men of the sea. Men who pillaged and brought back three times what this home was worth, only keeping a small portion of it to get the great law of the king off their flame-heated trails.

He was a handsome man, one with charming stature and the best-assembled clothes. Garret carried himself as such- royalty that didn’t have a true bloodline, but enough to get everything he desired. Including the woman who stood with a hard stare in front of him. His deep Irish eyes were scanning over her figure, taking in the small stature that she carried. In fact, she reminded him of one of his men; not a nationally regarded painter.

She wasn’t traditional, a pair of grey slacks and a black shirt hugged her figure, her eyes almost as dark as the midnight sky. Different colors of paint popped against the fabric; it made her look more like a street beggar than anything. But he had seen her work- seen the way she made use of the canvas and vibrant colors given to her. She was an artist, one like no other.

“I’ve seen your work,” Garret said, quite dramatically as he leaned backward in his seat. It creaked and groaned in irony. A man with that much wealth should have a better place to sit. Maybe there was some semantic value, but the woman didn’t question him. Instead, she lifted her chin, keeping her jaw tensed. “it’s good.”

“Just good?” She finally spoke, lifting her eyebrows. She leaned heavily on his hand-crafted desk, annoyance sparking within her stomach. He had more money than he knew what to do with; Beca running her fingers over the carved edge. It was done well. Better than his chair. “I mean no offense, Mr. Beale, but I have spent years studying under masters of artistic ability. You’ve pulled me from sea two weeks ago, for what? To design your walls?”

“Garret, please.” He seemed unphased by her annoyance. The man knew that she wasn’t happy, practically being pulled onto his family’s property. She agreed, having to travel weeks to even get to the home. He offered up a project, one that peaked her interest. “If I wanted to have my walls recolored, I would not send word for you, Miss Mitchell, have a seat.”

She drew in a soft breath, that skeptic look still in her deep stare. However, she eventually lowered herself into the chair pushing at the back of her legs. It was cold against her spine, making her swallow back a shiver uncomfortably. She waited patiently, despite questioning the man’s privilege.

“My wife,” he drew in a long breath, “She is quite exquisite.”

Beca pressed her lips together in a frim line, instantly finding discomfort in the man’s words. The whimsical look in his eyes solidifying just how much he cared for this unnamed woman. A small smile played at the corners of his expression. “I have yet to find someone who is talented enough to capture her beauty, which is why I called you.”

“To paint her?” She eased out, “I paint what I feel, Mr. Bea- Garret.” She corrected herself last minute. “There is no rhyme or rhythm to my work. It’s near impossible for me to construct something when I feel nothing.”

“Ah,” he leaned forward, pressing his elbows against the desk. “I assure you, Miss Mitchell when you see my wife it will be highly unlikely that you won’t feel a thing.”

She gave him a jarring look. This man was quite clearly in love with this woman. So much so that he would invite a near stranger into his home to paint a fine picture of her. He had apparently done so before, many times, but was never happy with the outcome. Men, she was sure, men who drooled and didn’t focus on the task at hand. Maybe that’s why he hand-selected her. It couldn’t’ just be based on her work. He was a picky man.

“Are you insisting that I should fall for this woman?”

“No, of course not.” He waved his hand dismissively “I merely suggest that you form a bond with her before you even sit down to draw your first stroke. I’ll pay for it all.”

She lifted both brows, her head resting on her hand as she kept her fingers on her lips. She watched him carefully. “How so?”

“You can stay here, for as long as you need. I certainly have the room to spare.” He stated plainly. “I just require that you spend time with my wife enough to know exactly what I need to be portrayed in her portrait.”

“Her essence,” Beca said as more of a statement than a question. “Not just the way she appears to the human eye.”

It was interesting, something Beca had never done before. She was more into taking an edge of charcoal and sitting on the bow of a boat- sketching the way the waves ate at a flat-lined shore. But if this woman, whoever she was, took so much captivation from the world, then it would be a certain challenge.

“Do we have a deal, Rebeca?” He held out his pale hand, firm and strong.

“It’s Beca.” She took his grasp in hers, squeezing it with force. “And how could I say no?”

The warm spring day changed the atmosphere in the usually dark house. There seemed to be no such thing as vibrant yellow, and unforgivable violent the night before. Beca having an uneasy sleep in one of the cold master bedrooms. It was far from comfortable- but still too fancy for her taste.

She woke up to a long ray of sun pressing against her gaze, birds chirping incessantly on the balcony. The stone balcony that was warmed by the very star that stirred her from her snooze. Regardless, she pulled herself from the clutches of the duvet, flinching as her bare feet hit the cold floor.

Begrudgingly, the talented artist slid on a pair of black pants and a loose fitting white shirt- not ever bringing more than that with her. She was fairly simple, hating the wire corsets and edged dresses of the time. They were too heavy and nice for her to paint in.

After lacing up a pair of brown leather boots, Beca made her way to the kitchen of the house. It wasn’t too far, Garret had set the place up like a maze, although, she was at the edge of it. He gave her a half-hearted tour before fleeing from the property himself, claiming of some business he had to do. It was close to three in the morning, there was nothing he could busy himself with at that hour- but again, the woman didn’t question his generosity.

She was close to the service quarters, residing in the same sector as the staff; she was staff. Having been hired for a job. To paint a wealthy man’s wife in exchange for room and board. Part of her wanted to drag it out to its full extent, the other part hating the idea of spending one more minute in this place.

A sickly-sweet scent coated her lungs the moment she walked into the kitchen. It was large, set up and built like a room from the Spanish colonies; complete with deep yellow walls and terracotta tile with intricate suns and moons. Natural light seeped in from the grassy courtyard. It was good work, just like Garret had said, no expense spared for his family.

There was a woman leaning heavily over a mass of dough, she was tall, almost tall enough to bump her head on the chandelier, it hung low enough. Flour coated her fingers and clothing as a strand of dirty brown hair fell from the bun on her head, sweat forming on the woman’s brow.  She glanced up with deep charcoal eyes at the change in atmosphere.

“Oh!” She let her folders fall back, moving her eyes down her smock as a certain heir of heat pressed against her cheek. She reached for a dish towel. “I’m sorry Miss Mitchell, I didn’t see you there. The dining room is right through the left corridor.”

This woman, whoever she was, looked petrified. Like she had done something wrong against the curiosity of the young artist. Beca having noticed the same thing as she cocked her head to the side slightly- like a lost puppy.

“I’m not looking for the dining room.” She stated simply from the doorway, trying not to scare the taller woman off. She was young, a simple look of amusement finding a way to her face. “You know who I am?”

“Of course.” The stranger let out a soft breath, pushing the base of her palms into the moldable dough. “Mr. Beale often hires new artists to tackle capturing the enigma that is his wife. Many of them leave after the first few days. They’re not very social.”

Her slate eyes flicked up towards Beca, almost as if asking a question.

“I’m not either,” She relented, a small smile on her lips. “But I know proper manners. I take it none of them have ever been back here?”

The woman grimaces, shaking her head as she struggles to blow the strands of stray hair from her gaze. She was becoming more comfortable with the conversation, with the presence of Beca in general. This was her kitchen, the woman knew not to overstep her boundaries.

“Never, Miss Mitchell.” She held back a snort. “Wouldn’t give the staff a second glance. A bit like Mr. Garret himself, if I might add.”

“Beca is fine.” The smaller girl said, shoving her hands in her pockets as the woman gave her a kind smile. She was different than the rest of them, actually making conversation and not attempting to rush the other way. She made eye contact and didn’t hold her shoulders along the straight edge of a metal plate. Instead, she looked calm and collected. Strong, even. “And you are?”

“The chef.” She answered on instinct.

“I figured that.” Beca elicited a small laugh. “I meant your name.”

“Oh,” she stilled her movements, a genuine smile finding it’s way to her flour specked face. “I’m Stacie Conrad.”

The Conrad’s were a fun group of people, a family name that Beca recognized almost immediately. She had met a man in the Pacific with the same surname, almost the same features as the chef that stood in front of her; a strong and seducing fella with a great sense of humor. If this woman was anything like her bloodline, Beca would get along great with her.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Stacie.” Beca reached out to shake the woman’s hand, reaching over the island, not hesitating a bit as the taller girl produced a powder covered one instead. She shrugged sheepishly- taking it regardless, Stacie’s mouth falling open. “What’s a little dirt?”

“Ah,” She nodded softly “Miss Chloe will love you.”

“Chloe huh?” The name rolled off of the artist’s lips. It was the first time that she had actually heard it. She was always proclaimed as Garrets wife, or even the woman no one could really paint. But she hadn’t met Beca yet. “Do you have any idea where she is?”

“You two haven’t met yet?” Stacie raised a pointed eyebrow.

“I got in around three last evening,” Beca explained, following that ashy stare towards the courtyard. It was a feat in its own; large hedges shielding the home from the outside world, lush green grass coating the full area, even a tall tree that produced bright fruit like that of a flame. Yellow and sharp. “Mr. Beale took me right to my quarters. After a tour, of course.”

“A fine man that’s proud of his home.” Stacie grimaced, stepping away from her task as she rounded the large counter. She was just as tall as Beca though, both of them turning towards the large doors, leaning heavily against the island as they stared out into the yard, Stacie crossing her arms over her chest. “Every morning, you can find Miss Chloe out here.”

“Reading?” The tiny girl still couldn’t see much but the yard- assuming the woman of the hour was situated on the other side of the large tree, back against the bark as she perused some ancient form of literature.

Stacie scoffed. “You wish.”

Beca threw her an odd glance before turning her attention back towards the area. Struggling to focus her hearing. She had been so focused before- not paying much stock to the little patch of outdoors. She noticed the taller woman first, at least she thought it was two women. Both in form fitted white suits- mesh masks over their faces. Fencing.

This woman who everyone raved bout was battling it out loudly with another, stepping gracefully against the grass, unlike any high-class girl that Beca had seen before. Both grunting as the metal of their foil’s clanked with each fluid hit. The shorter of the two took a step out of bounds, her partner not sparring a second.

“Avertissement” Beca scoffed under her breath, shaking her head.

“Aubrey never plays fair” Stacie spoke without tearing her gaze away from the pair. “I’m sure she does it to keep Chloe on her feet. You fence?”

“I used to.”

The two burst into laughter, muffled by the door that separated their spectators. Each woman panting with a purpose as the taller of the two removed her mask first- face red from the labor as she struggled to catch her composure. Stacie cocked an eyebrow at the blonde, cheeks maintaining their rosy complexion. “That’s Miss Posen.” She informed the small girl. “I swear, Chloe and she are joined at the hip. Protective, that one is.”

Aubrey went to remove her chest guard, but Beca didn’t have the attention span to continue watching the blonde. Instead, she focused on who she deemed to be Chloe. The mask was removed, a bout of coppery locks fell against her shoulders; she shook her head trying to free them from the heat of the island day. Her own chest was heaving, cheeks a bit red as she tucked her weapon beneath her arm. An angelic smile pressed close to her lips, a thin layer of sweat coating her collarbone.

“You’re drooling, Beca.”

“What?” The brunette snapped her mouth shut, dragging the back of her hand across her cheek, checking to make sure she was in fact, not drooling. Stacie was right, she could catch flies the longer she stood there, each passing second, she stared at Chloe made a heat press near her core. “I was doing no such thing.”

“Hmm,” Stacie nudged her new friend. “There is a reason they call Chloe Beale unpaintable.”