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eliza-and-her-monsters · 3 months ago

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the tortured poets department

a story told in multiple parts

vi x reader

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Contains: college au, dark/light academia, writer reader, singer reader, neurodivergent/autistic reader (i’m autistic so i’m writing from my own experiences), sporty vi, hockey player vi, big sister caitlyn, best friend ellie williams, roommate ellie williams, will contain other familiar characters you know and love as well as some potential ocs. no use of y/n, reader does have a name because it’s just easier for me to write that way 🖤 ALSO- Jayce is aged down because I want him to be 😌

WC: 4.5k

TW: talk of severe mental illness and brief mention of psychiatric facilities

A/N: chapter one is officially live! if you’re just stumbling across this and haven’t checked the main info post yet please do for more info! hope you enjoy! 🖤

part I

you’re on your own, kid

Whenever most people got acceptance letters to Oxford they were ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. Somehow whenever I got mine all I felt was a sense that I had failed. It was a juxtaposition of course, it was always expected from my family that I attend the same university they had and every other generation before them had. So in a way I had done the opposite, just maybe not in the right order, and a hefty amount of rejection letters in my midst. Including the one currently being held in my shaky hand right now.

Ms. Kiramman,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript to our publication house. Unfortunately right now we are unable to offer you an opportunity for further publication.

“Please, they wouldn’t know good literature if it hit them in the face.” Caitlyn scoffed from her spot next to me as the student shuttle jostled us in our row of seats.

“Is every other publication house that denied me unable to recognize good literature as well?” I whispered from where my cheek stayed pressed to her shoulder.

I know what a lot of you were probably thinking at first glance, but Caitlyn was a good big sister. She was harsh, severely left brained, exactly everything our parents wanted in a child, and quite possibly the polar opposite of me. But in all honesty she was my best friend. My biggest supporter whenever my parents weren’t. It was her who had harassed all of those literary agents to even get me the chance to submit my works to publication houses in the first place because I was too scared to do it. And it was I who failed every single time.

“Yeah actually, they are. Honestly Mills, there’s so much trash in modern day poetry right now you might be better off.” She sighed, reaching a hand over to click my phone off slowly as the shuttle rumbled to a stop. “This is you!” She tried to plaster on a fake cheery voice with a pat on my back as if to get me to finally lift my head where my cheek was already an irritated red for being hid in her sweater.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just let Ellie and I take the extra room in that big student house you just moved into.” I huffed, lifting a hand to readjust my glasses before rising up to my feet and reaching for one of the suitcases carelessly tossed on one of the adjacent rows of seats.

“Because lovey, you need to make some of your own friends. This is uni, Millie, we’re both in completely different colleges and I just- I don’t want you to get too lonely.” She frowned, glancing back at me as she rolled the other suitcase behind her. “You guys don’t wanna room with a bunch of upperclassmen anyways.”

“I do have my own friends, I have Ellie.”

“As much as she is a great roommate, friends besides Ellie, it’s good to have more than just two whole people on campus to talk to.” Caitlyn pressed on just before striding towards the entrance, leaving me feeling like I needed to speed walk just to keep up given the fact she was nearly a foot taller as well.

The student apartments were definitely nicer than the usual underclassman dorms. In all honesty I really should’ve been grateful, it was just another luxury of being a Kiramman. Whenever your parents paid for half of the buildings on campus you usually got better accommodations. Not that either of them originally liked the idea of me even rooming with Ellie. A loudmouthed foreign exchange student from America I met during another one of those incredibly expensive wellness retreats my parents sent me on to see if they could find a ‘cure’ for what was actually just a heavy amount of autism and severe ADHD.

The only person who really seemed to understand that there wasn’t one and it was just simply who I was was Caitlyn. To a degree as much as she could at least. Sometimes though I could tell she forgot.

“I think Ellie said she beat us a while ago.” She chimed in as we approached the door decorated with a slightly chipped gold number.

“She got here early because of hockey stuff.” I answered, already bouncing on the balls of my feet to see how she had managed to make the flat into a sea of chaos already. She wasn’t exactly the cleanest person, luckily her energy seemed to mesh with mine easily enough though.

“Oh! You never mentioned she made the hockey team! I know a few girls on the team you could probably talk to.” She shot a hopeful smile back at me before lifting a fist to knock on the door.

It swung open before she could even make a second tap to reveal a frazzled looking Ellie haphazardly clutching a hockey stick. “Thank God you’re here! I was trying to practice my swing and- fuck, we are so not getting that deposit back, Millie.”

“Oh dear god.” Caitlyn cursed, already wincing in dread before stepping through the door into the messy flat. “I’m sure our dad can- do something. What did you manage to break and why on earth did you decide practicing your swing indoors was a good idea?”

“For your information I didn’t break anything! There’s just a- tiny dent in the wall.”

I hummed a bit to myself as I stepped over the plethora of unpacked bags currently covering the floor. “It’s definitely more than tiny.” I chimed in as I poked at the noticeable dent in the drywall.

Caitlyn released a long and heavy breath and shook her head, as if to try and keep herself from making her own dent in the wall. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just- say that it was there whenever you guys moved in!” She shrugged with another anxious clear of her throat as she pulled my luggage in behind her. “Which room is free, Els?”

“Oh, I gave her the room in the front. I know she likes it dark and the lighting in there sucks.” Ellie answered as she shuffled off behind us. “There is one window in there that can get pretty killer in the mornings.”

I tensed a bit at the sight of the double window facing towards the bed. Yet another one of the aggravating little quirks that came with my neurodivergency, light sensitivity. As far as I could remember I always preferred the darkest of places. And now Caitlyn was cursing again, rushing towards me to take my hands into her own as if I was already on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay- I can get you a pair of a blackout curtains asap and you know how dreary it is in Oxford anyways-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m not going to have a meltdown over a window.” I interrupted her ramble with a shake of my head. Sometimes I felt like she still thought I was that same teenage girl that didn’t have a handle on her emotions. Not that I was far from it exactly. Now I was just an almost 20 year old girl who had a slight hold on her emotions. That’s what the writing was for.

Her eyes still held the same amount of concern though, getting that same little crinkle in between her brows as she nodded. “Okay, I’m still getting you blackout curtains though.”

“They’ll definitely be appreciated.” I said with a forced tiny smile.

“Well, I really wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have a meeting with the Brooks Society and everything but… I really do hope I’ll see you both tonight at the pub for fresher’s week?” She grinned hopefully once more as she squeezed the life out of my hands.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. We’ve barely settled in and-”

“I’m down.” Ellie chimed in from behind me as she trotted back into the door frame. “I’m gonna be relishing in the fact I finally don’t need a fake.”

“Ellie…” I groaned as I shot her a glare over my shoulder.

“What? Mills, it’s the first day of fresher’s week, we might as well be committing a crime by not going out tonight!” She exclaimed with a dramatic throw of her hands in the air.

“It’s true, and as much as I would love to keep you away from my degenerate friends, well, it might be good for you.” Caitlyn agreed with another casual shrug.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice, are you?” I questioned causing her to shoot a knowing look towards Ellie over my shoulder.

“Probably not.” She answered before stealing a look down at the expensive watch wrapped around her wrist. “Well, I’ve gotta go but… you’ll text me if you need anything, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t because of what I said earlier because you always can I just-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m fine, I promise. I- I’ll see you tonight.” I stammered in hesitation, and I’d definitely be hearing about it later. But luckily right now she seemed willing to just let things go.

“Okay, good… great. Now- get in here, pipsqueak!” She exclaimed, the familiar nickname she had been calling me since she hit her growth spurt and I yet to do so making me roll my eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. One of those sisterly hugs I always clung onto a bit longer. Ever since I was younger no place had felt safer than Caitlyn. And in so many ways sometimes I looked at her as being more than a mom than our actual mom. I knew I needed to find other safe places though. “I love you, you know that right? I promise. This is going to be a good thing.”

“I love you too, Caity.” I sighed softly as I felt her lips press to the top of my head before the two of us pulled away.

“Els, take care of my baby sister or else I’ll have your head on a stick? Got it?”

“Crystal?” Ellie finally spoke up again with wide eyes as her hand made the ‘okay’ symbol.

“Good.” Caitlyn spoke before trotting back off towards the front door, “I’ll see you both tonight and send you the details.” And with a charming smile she was headed out.

Ellie instantly let out a shiver the moment the door closed. “Has anyone ever told you that your sister’s scary as fuck?”

“Many times.” I answered simply just in time to see Ellie’s face fall ever so slightly.

“So, I’m guessing it was a no from the latest publication house?”

“How could you guess?” I frowned as I slumped against the wall like I was going to resign myself to the floor.

“You had that aire of discouraged defeatism whenever you walked in.” She explained as she sidled up to me. “Cheer up, Mills, modern poetry is so cringeworthy nowadays you might be better off going for songwriting anyways.” She added as she gently rubbed at my clothed arms.

“If I can’t even get a publication house to take me seriously then what makes you think I can actually get a songwriting deal?” I spoke as I finally pushed myself off of the wall.

“One of the most popular songs out right now literally has the lyrics, ‘that’s that me, espresso’ in it.” She rolled her eyes a bit to herself as she finally knelt down to grab the bags she had still yet to unpack.

“No Sabrina Carpenter slander in this apartment, Williams. You know I’m an OG. And I can relate to desperation.” I frowned in embarrassment as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yeah yeah yeah, come and help me unpack, will you? Maybe we can find you something to wear tonight.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I exclaimed almost in mild offense as I gestured towards the outfit that definitely had been hastily picked out. But it wasn’t like it wasn’t cute- ish at least.

“Nothing, but care bear sweaters and leggings seems more like a comfy day outfit than a ‘going out to the pub’ outfit.”

“I thought it was going to be a comfy day until you completely blew my cover!”

“Sorry babe, but I agree with your scary as fuck sister on this one. You need to get out more. Experience the pleasures of fresher’s week and you can take that in any way you want!” She shot a wink over her shoulder as she made her way down the skinny hallway to kick open her own door where a brutal floor to ceiling window already angrily cast its light on the room causing me to flinch.

“We could always pretend to be girlfriends again if you want people to leave you alone in a, you know, romantic way.” Ellie added as she rushed across the room to pull the curtains shut and pat the empty space on her bed. Probably the only time it’d actually be made all semester.

“Nah, if we do that too many times people will know we’re lying so best not to even start.” I answered as I took a seat on the side of her bed.

“Well if that’s the case, how does this shirt look with… this flannel? What do you think? Chick magnet?” She grinned before whipping out a red and black checkered flannel from the mostly empty closet and pulling it on over the basic black band tee she already wore with a flourish.

“Maybe if they’re emo?” I said with a little shrug as I scanned the band logo on her t-shirt causing her to groan in defeat.

“Still… somehow… always chronically bitchless.” She voiced before plopping down on the squeaky university issued beds. Though we were at least lucky enough to have double beds, it definitely wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination if either of us decided to do any nsfw activities in them. Somehow I didn’t feel like we’d have that problem though.

“Shush, you’re not chronically bitchless. You have me!” I teased as I gave her shoulder a playful shove where she dramatically flopped onto her back.

“So bitchless then?” She reiterated with a lifted brow as she glanced over at me.

“At least you’ve actually managed to kiss a girl once or twice.” I scowled as I inched over onto my side. Already catching myself pulling closer towards her.

“Just so we’re clear, I did offer.”

“Yeah, only to get your first kiss out of the way.” I scoffed, though I curled up to her either way. Closing my eyes as I placed my head on her chest I hadn’t realized how tired I had felt in the past 24 hours. They had been rough, a sea of anxiety and those exact meltdowns that Caitlyn was afraid of me having and her not being there to talk me down from.

“And? The offer never stopped standing.” She spoke just before I could feel her arms wrapping around me.

“Good to know, Els, I’ll let you know if I ever need to get a pity kiss from my best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a pity kiss. It’s me doing you a solid.” She remarked, as she nudged my foot with her leg. “You manage to get any sleep last night?” She wondered just before letting her hands trace soothing circles on my back. I only shook my head as I felt the sting behind my eyes before I could even take any steps to stop it. The way you felt whenever you were already on the verge all day and someone finally asks if you’re okay. Curling my fingers into her flannel the annoying tears already soaked into the fabric of her shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

A shake of my head only followed, I didn’t know how to put anything into words really. How to explain to people that just wouldn’t understand no matter how much they meant well and wanted to. How was someone even supposed to explain the fact that you were one of the most celebrated families of the most prestigious university in England yet somehow you still felt like the only person who didn’t belong here sat on top of a mountain of rejection letters? Perhaps you could rather easily. But to actually say the words ‘I’m pretty sure I only got in because I’m a Kiramman’ were a whole different story. It’s why I took all those years off in the first place. I wanted to delay the inevitable of my dad paying off the admissions directors again while staring at me with the level of disappointment he never had to with Caitlyn.

I hadn’t even realized the simple tears had turned into full out sobs until I heard Ellie’s gentle shush from above me and her arms holding me even tighter to her chest as she did so. “You’re gonna be okay, Mills. I promise. We’re gonna be just fine.”

I hadn’t even noticed I had dozed off until my eyes cracked open again, noticeably faced away from the window and tucked underneath Ellie’s covers. My glasses sat propped up on her bedside dresser already casting a noticeable blur of the world around me. Meanwhile hushed voices seemed to speak from out in the hallway, walls much too thin to hide the noise.

Fighting back a yawn I shoved myself up onto my elbow to wipe at my dysfunctional eyes before stretching a hand out to pluck my glasses from the nearby table. Though I only jumped as the door was pushed open and Caitlyn’s tall figure popped up into view. “Hey pipsqueak, Ellie told me you weren’t feeling the best after I left.” She said carefully as she grabbed my glasses to hand them over.

“I wished she wouldn’t have.” I grumbled as I slid them onto my face only to hug my knees to my chest and glue my eyes to the bedsheets below.

“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what I told you to do? Mills, I would’ve stayed-”

“But- I-I don’t wanna keep you from your responsibilities anymore, Caity!” I exclaimed with a frustrated groan, already digging at my eyes again while my head only throbbed from the aftermath. “I don’t want you to have to tell this really important college society that you can’t be there for your obligations because your mentally ill sister needs you to rescue her again!”

“You are my responsibility, Amelia!” She snapped, the use of my rarely spoken full name making me wince as she pointed a stern finger at me. “You will always be my number one priority because I’m your big sister and it’s my job to protect you, no matter what. And I don’t care what kind of deep shit I get into with the criminology department, okay? Because you come first, always!”

I tried to gulp back the same pathetic tears, but it turns out after you cry yourself to sleep for the millionth time maybe there really is a limit. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?” I spoke up after a moment of silence, feeling Caitlyn’s arm stretch around my shoulder as she took the spot next to me.

“No, but I did do some thinking and if you really don’t wanna go then I don’t wanna pressure you.” She frowned, almost looking down in mild guilt until I leaned my head against her shoulder.

“No… I do. I wanna go and make friends and new experiences and- t-try to be normal.”

“Lovey, you are normal. It’s the world that isn’t.” Caitlyn frowned as she leaned her head against mine. Thankfully she only hesitated a moment though before she cleared her throat and spoke again, “If you wanna go though we should probably start getting ready. If you want me to help you?”

“Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear? And do my hair in those little braids with the clips? And help me with my eyeliner?”

Caitlyn snickered a bit as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “The eyeliner might be a little tricky but I can certainly try. Are you forgetting the prom incident where I quite literally gave you an eye infection?”

“That was definitely just because of the glitter.” I shrugged before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and finally pushing myself up to my feet.

“The eyeliner pen straight to the cornea certainly didn’t help.” She reiterated.

Despite the various complications of having two not at all femme lesbians help me get ready though, I don’t think I looked too terrible afterwards. I had settled on a simple black dress that fell just above the knee with little bows sat atop the straps. English autumns could either be comfortable or frigid though and the current temperature definitely wasn’t comfortable so Ellie tossed me one of her blue flannels to wear over top. Of course claiming it’d be a calling card for all of the hot lesbians, if they didn’t assume we were together first.

Calling the pub a ‘pub’ in an of itself was definitely generous. Besides the one or two older people having their relaxing evening out ruined by the loudmouthed 18+ filling the joint it felt more like a club than anything. Music blasted from the speakers as we stepped inside, Caitlyn on one side with a protective arm around my shoulders and Ellie on the other who looked more and more like she was never returning to America by the second.

Caitlyn immediately dragged us downstairs where most of the students had taken over. It wasn’t hard to figure out which group of friends were hers. It was the largest one, who had currently swallowed the entire center of the room it seemed filling up leather stools and couches with red decorative pillows. “Oi! Cait! Over here!” A familiar voice echoed from the large group, popping his head over everyone and waving the lot of us over.

“Jayce? I thought he finished his masters last year.” I tried to speak over the noise where Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in response.

“He did, guess the old man just can’t get enough of us.” She answered, giving my arm a comforting squeeze as she pulled me along beside her.

The group was probably the most eccentric lot I had ever seen as we approached the cluttered table. Covered in empty and full beer bottles and other fruity drinks along with half burnt out cigarettes. A spread of tarot cards belonging to a skinny girl with the longest and brightest blue hair I had ever seen was currently being scooped up as well causing my eyes to widen in curiosity. A chorus of Caitlyn’s name followed as usual, the usual life of the party whenever I wasn’t there and she didn’t have to babysit. I had almost managed to successfully tune most of the chaotic noise out though until I heard my name followed by the tightening of Caitlyn’s arm around my shoulders once more.

“Lads, this is my baby sister, Amelia. Treat her well or else I’ll kill you slowly and painfully.” She said with a little grin just as a stool was pulled out from where a pink haired individual sat manspreading on the plush couch.

“Have a seat, cupcake, we don’t bite.” The girl smirked as she sat forward almost curiously. Also an American.

“I especially mean that towards you, Vi.” Caitlyn’s expression morphed into a glare as she watched me cautiously lower myself onto the seat like it was going to give out below me any second. “Oh, and this is Ellie- Ellie Williams. Also a fresher. Ellie, Mills, this is… Jinx, Ekko, Jesse, Dina, you obviously know Jayce, Abby-”

“Bitch.” Ellie mumbled underneath her breath causing my eyes to widen for the thousandth time as she took the open seat next to me. “She totally knocked my lights out during practice today.”

“You have to have at least one light on to have them knocked out, Williams.” The muscular woman stated as she brought a glass of amber liquid up towards her mouth.

“Wow, didn’t realize hockey rivalries on the same team were a thing.” Caitlyn fought back a laugh as she went to take an empty seat of her own.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ellie grumbled a bit to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Williams? She yours?” Vi cleared her throat as she nodded in my direction.

“Who? Amelia? I-I mean I wouldn’t complain but we’re just friends.” She answered immediately causing Vi’s eyebrows to lift.

“So- no intense feelings you guys are harboring or anything?” She questioned again as she stole glances between the two of us.

“Unless there’s something she’s not telling me?” Ellie wondered with a lifted brow as she looked towards me as if in confirmation. And it was then I realized how tightly I was clutching onto her hand below the table.

It wasn’t as if the two of us hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t as if I had spent a solid number of nights in her bed whenever things got really tough. Ultimately though we had decided what we had as best friends was far too intense or precious to fuck up over a relationship. And also just the sheer fact that dating somebody you met in a psychiatric facility disguised as a ‘wellness retreat’ was probably a bad idea.

“No, just best friends.” I answered in a small voice with a simple shrug.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I buy her a drink then?”

“Careful Vi.” Caitlyn growled from her spot on the couch across from her.

“Ummm, can you buy me a song on the jukebox instead?” I asked, and to my surprise a series of impressed sentiments filled the table. My eyes only furrowed in confusion however as I peered towards Ellie or Caitlyn for help, “What?”

“Because Millie, that was smooth as fuck.“ Ellie answered almost drawing a little laugh from my end.

“Lucky for you, doll, I can buy you both.” Vi spoke as she held a bruised hand out for me to take.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any butterflies blooming in my chest at her words. The feeling of my heart kickstarting as I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me towards the bar. Her hand was warm and rough in my own, calloused but not in the way Ellie’s were from the constant plucking on her guitar. They were calloused in a far more aggressive way. I should’ve known I was heading towards my own demise in that moment. Falling down a hole I’d lose myself entirely in. An electric pull on my heartstrings that kept me close to her.

Fuck, I should’ve known it was only the start.

A/N: I AM SOOOOO EXCITED TO GET THIS UP!!!! I wanna know all your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I’m so so SO beyond excited to write more of this I’m screaming!!

Also- psa I know a ton of characters don’t talk/aren’t really in this one. I promise they will be further on! Just need to get an establishing shot first! 🖤

-> Next Part

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hurtspideyparker · 6 months ago

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Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker

Tony and Peter finally arrive in the large room, polished leather Oxfords and stained-lace Converse making their way through the crowd of professionals. Tony has a hand on Peter's back guiding him, because no matter how many meetings, conferences, and office buildings they traverse together, Peter always manages to get lost the second Tony lets go.

Thankfully Pepper is easy to spot, shaking hands with some blah blah from wee woo Industries. Her hair is the only splash of colour in the constant white black grey of everyone's pencil skirts and collared shirts.

"Hi Ms. Potts!" Peter greets as soon as the woman turns and spots them.

"Hi Peter—Tony. I told you to stop bringing the kid to these things. No offense Peter."

"None taken! You look lovely, did you get your hair done?"

Pepper's hair cascades over her shoulder in perfect curls, splayed out over her white button-up.

"Yes actually, a trim and some highlights. I think she went shorter than I asked though, because I always get half an inch, and this does not look like half an inch."

Peter steps a bit closer and squints at the piece of copper hair she's holding out.

"I think it's just because she curled it. You usually get it blow dried after."

"Hm. I think you're right actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm so glad you guys are having such a great slumber party. C'mon kid I have to avoid that senator and he's starting to glance this way." He tries to head over to some tall plants that happen to be great blind spots.

"Ah ah ah Tony! We are talking about this. I told you to stop dragging Peter to all of your work responsibilities. I'm sure he's bored to death with these meetings and work events."

"Pep, he's an intern, he's supposed to be bored and taken advantage of. Besides, if you take away my emotional support intern then I simply wouldn't show up! So."

"You aren't even paying him for his time!" Pepper says at the same time Peter mumbles "emotional support intern?"

"Um excuse me, that 3 million dollar suit he stuffs between his math homework and Go-Gurt begs to differ. And anyways, I pay him with experience. I brought him to that seminar in LA on Saturday, and he's following me to Tokyo for that week long conference in July. I highly doubt he's complaining," he squeezes the boy's shoulders, Peter looking up and beaming at him and Pepper.

"I'm really fine with it Ms. Potts. Besides, the more of these things I go to the more lab time I get!" Peter pipes in.

Pepper glares at Tony. "Really, bribery?"

"Okay well, if us grown adults don't want to be here how else am I supposed to get a 15 year old to talk about environmental reform to people who don't even believe in climate change."

Pepper and Tony hold each other's stares.

"You mean he spoke to Mr. Ellis about the generator you designed for his carbon plant, and it didn't end with him calling us a pansy corporation and you calling him a decrepit geezer who's business is the only thing that's going to die quicker than he is?"

There's barely stiffled hope supressed under Pepper's professionalism.

Tony smirks. "Yep, I think Mr. Ellis even smiled. The kid's got charm! Who knew."

Pepper glances at Peter in consideration.

"Peter have you ever considered pursuing anything further in business? Engineering is great, but if you really want to be successful it's incredibly important to build interpersonal skills, leadership, and even current market and finance knowledge. I mean you might want to sell your designs one day, or start a company."

"Oh, I haven't really-"

"You could shadow me! I mean interning with a CEO is a once in a lifetime opportunity, it would give you a glowing resume, and I know a lot more about this stuff than Tony. He didn't even perform his executive duties when he actually was the CEO."

Pepper has that gleam in her eyes, the one she gets when men call her sweetheart, or when Tony isn't even dressed for their reservation that started ten minutes ago.

It means she's already had the argument in her head.

Peter is still stuttering, flustered with this side of Pepper. Her business face isn't usually directed at him, and it's a far cry from the woman who sends him home with leftovers from dinner.

"Wait wait wait, are you trying to steal my intern?" Tony asks incredulously.

"If anyone even needs an intern Tony it would be me. I have to babysit you and the company, meanwhile you just need him to hand you wrenches. Competent help is hard to find these days and you're wasting his talents."

"Um, excuse me, he's the only thing keeping me together. You already have your fancy day planner and Excel spreadsheets, I need him to get me out of the house. He's the only thing keeping me a responsible adult, if you take away my emotional support intern then I will not attend a single meeting for the rest of the quarter."

"You are such a man child!"

"La la la la can't hear youuu," Tony says with his fingers in his ears.

"Um, guys, I think people are staring."

Peter tugs on the corner of Tony's sleeve to get him to unplug his ears, glancing nervously at the groups of people sending them judgemental stares. The three of them give a wave and pleasant smile, most of the crowd continuing to move along on the grey carpet at the sight of their unsettling synchronicity and false turn of the lips.

Pepper speaks through her teeth, a grin still presented at passers-by. "Fine, you can keep him, but only because he's doing half my job for me. The only person you can emotionally regulate around and it's a teenager. I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep you entertained."

"Love you too honey," Tony says while putting a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. He sighs, looking around the room at all the government officials who think these tech companies are spying on them.

Apparently a surveillance state is only cool when they do it to manipulate their incarceration numbers, rig elections and lobby votes, and not for data mining and targeted ads.

"I say we hit the cheese and crackers, take an awkward amount of sips from those tiny water bottles, and then speak to some old ladies till we have to do our presentation."

"Sounds great Mr. Stark. Will you make sure they don't grab my face again? I smelled like old lady perfume at school and Flash started making fun of me for stealing people's grandmas."

Tony looks into Peter's eyes questioningly and finds nothing but sincerity and resignation in them.

"Well. Not my fault your cheeks are so gosh darn cute. But I'll do my best," he wraps an arm around the shorter and starts heading through the room again.

The weight is comforting. Peter used to get anxious at these events, but Tony never leaves his side and is always looking at him like he's the Michaelangelo in the center of every room. He became accustomed to being Mr. Stark's favourite part of the event. While that may not seem difficult, especially considering the droning lectures and snooty company, it always feels special making jokes about people's ridiculous work jargon, and comparing the staleness of crackers at conferences.

"Emotional support intern huh?" he says smugly.

Tony glances at him, but instead of scoffing or denying anything, he just speaks with honesty. "You and Pepper are the best, most important things to this company. And to me. I'm really glad you're here kid."

Peter doesn't know what to say. The words stick in his throat while Tony hands him a water bottle with the lid already cracked.

Peter has super strength; It's completely unnecessary to open his bottle for him. He doesn't point this out. Tony will do it at the next meeting, just like he did at the last one, and Peter will never mention it.

#irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #marvel mcu #irondad #mcu #marvel #iron dad #pepper potts #pepperony #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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aloysiavirgata · 26 days ago

Note

prompt:

byers: why dont you tell scully you love her?

mulder: i cant, she'll think im only saying it because were having a baby.

They’re eating wings at Kislings in Baltimore. Langley won’t touch blue cheese, something about spores and a fungal internet, so Mulder had to order ranch as well. Like a fucking pussy.

Frohike crunches hard on a log of celery. “You talk to her yet?”

Mulder scowls. “I observed that she would look like a bowler hat if turned sideways. She declined to be amused.”

Frohike groans. “Jesus. Did you really?”

Mulder scowls with increased vigor. “Dear Abby never covered this particular situation, my apologies. Should I approach the lady in white tie or a morning suit?”

Byers pokes at a pile of discarded chicken bones. “Have you tried being honest with her?”

For a man who has spent most of his adult life in pursuit of the truth, Mulder looks deeply disgusted.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Even Langley is contemptuous at this. He rises, disappearing into a darkly recessed corner that houses Ms. Pac-Man.

“You’re an idiot,” Frohike observes into the mound of chili fries. “UPenn, Oxford. The dumbest motherfucker I know. I’ll marry her tomorrow; when do the courts open? Mulder, with all due respect and forgetting the rest of it? HAVE YOU SEEN HER?”

“Shut up,” Mulder says, weary.

Byers, ever gentle, squeezes his friend’s shoulder. “Why don’t you just tell Scully you love her? She knows, or she wouldn’t have asked. And you know, or you wouldn’t have agreed.”

Frohike snorts around a mouthful of fries. “He’s hopeless, that’s why.”

Mulder glares into the middle distance. “I can’t. She’ll think I’m only saying it because we're having a baby.”

Byers, with his deep, wise eyes. Byers, with his own human credential. “I know,” he says, soft. “I know why you feel safer to say that. But Christ, Mulder. You two aren’t teenagers. It’s not a Cracker Jack engagement ring and a quickie wedding. You could have something here.”

Mulder looks back at his friend. At his friends. Behind Langley’s absence is his love for Scully; for Mulder. Frohike’s gnomish tenderness, Byers’s deep, endless honor.

Mulder imagines himself at 17 - a pregnant Catholic girl, a debt of honor. Imagines how his parents would throw money and secrecy at it all without ever once considering the people involved.

He throws a hundred on the table.

He pulls out his phone.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #my fic #prompt #inbox #ust #pregnancy

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arclic-stuff · 14 days ago

Text

Hate to Break It to You (Avis Amberg x fem!OC)

..............................................................................................................................

Penny is a screenwriter with a contract to direct her film with Ace Pictures. At least she thinks she does.

Upon arriving at the studio for what she thinks is a meeting with Ace, she is instead met with Avis, his wife and interim head of the studio.

Will Penny keep her temper when she’s told the bad news that her film is being cut in favour of other ventures?

Word Count: 2.6k

..............................................................................................................................

One thought fills Penny's mind as she walks down the studio hallway.

I should have broken these heels in.

Given the importance of the meeting, she decided to go all out. Her casual clothes and flat shoes have been traded for a fitted copper colour two-piece suit and peep-toe shoes fresh out the box. Her dark brown hair is twisted into an intricate updo showing off her choice of earrings that match her red lipstick.

It's way more elaborate than her usual getup and strays near overdressed, but when you're meeting with the man-child that is Ace Amberg you grin and bear it.

Penny cringes as her heels click against the flooring announcing her presence. The men of the office turn at the sound and gawk. They're taken aback by the drastic change of her appearance, the feminine silhouette wrapped in fitted rayon, making no attempt to hide their stares. All she can do is avoid eye contact and walk faster towards the executive offices.

She calms herself by thinking about the success coming her way. Her film has been greenlit and starts production in a month. The cast is rehearsing, props and sets prepared, all is going according to plan.

"Penny?"

She is pulled from her daydream when her name is called out by Miss Stinson, Ace's secretary. Penny strolls to her desk, greeting the woman with a warm smile.

"Hi Miss Stinson, I've got a 1 o'clock with Mr Amberg. Will I just head in? He should be expecting me." Penny moves to go through the office door when she is pulled back by a nervous Stinson.

"Ah well about that, look, Ace isn't well.." Stinson trails off as her bottom lip quivers, trying to hold it together. She goes on to explain the situation about his health, making Penny gasp and strangely feel bad for the man. Sure she can't stand him, but she doesn't wish him dead.

She's about to turn and leave when the handle of Ace's office door twists and out steps the unexpected.

Avis Amberg.

Despite her small stature, her presence fills the room. Her elegance and poise makes Penny shrink by comparison, feeling like a little girl playing dress up.

Avis is engrossed in her planner as she hovers under the doorframe. When she looks up, Penny and Stinson stare, waiting for Avis to speak first. All she does is raise an eyebrow, looking Penny up and down before directing her curious expression to Stinson.

"Mrs Amberg, this is Pennelope Davis, a writer. She was meant to meet with Mr Amberg today. I'm so sorry I completely forgot to reschedule it, she was just leaving." Avis stops the rambling by raising a hand.

Avis steps out of the office, turning to hold the door open. "It's fine, I can see her now. Go take your lunch, Miss Stinson," Stinson nods and scampers away. Avis continues holding the door, starting to tap her foot with impatience.

"Well Ms Davis?" She looks Penny up and down again, this time lingering as she takes in Penny’s appearance. It disturbs her having a woman looking at her like that. Like the men in the hallway. But she also feels intrigued by it. And so, Penny walks into the office.

"That's an interesting accent you have, you're from across the pond, yes?” Avis shuts the office door, gesturing for Penny to take one of the seats across from the desk.

Penny fidgets, taking off her gloves as she responds, "Yes Ma'am, Oxford. It's west of London."

"And posh. What does your family think of you gallivanting around Hollywood?" Avis asks, rounding the desk.

"Ha, I'm the youngest of five Ma'am, they don't often think about me", Penny chuckles at her self-deprecating response, waiting for a similar response from Avis. Unlike Ace who would laugh at the humour, Avis just stares at her, eyebrows raised as she thinks of something to say.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Avis says sincerely, her features softening.

Penny lowers her head, focusing again on the gloves in her hands. "It's alright. I'm sorry to hear about your husband, Ma'am" Which is followed by a scoff from the other woman.

"Oh don't be, that's what decades of steaks and cigars do to a person. And don't call me Ma'am, the formality of your voice makes me feel a million years old. Mrs Amberg will do”

"Yes Ma'am–I mean Mrs Amberg! Sorry”, Penny bites her cheek wanting to the ground to swallow her.

Avis stands behind the desk, hands resting on the chair back. She tilts her head at the flustered girl before her, smirking as Penny tries and fails to make eye contact.

"You seem nervous, would you like a drink? Tea?" Avis gestures towards the drinks cart in the near corner of the room.

Penny declines politely, "Oh no, thank you Mrs Amberg I’m sick of tea, I’ve had my fair share back home"

“Then something stronger” Avis makes her way to the cart, picking up a whisky decanter with one hand, pulling out two glasses with the other.

“Oh no I couldn’t–”

Avis cuts you off, looking over her shoulder as she makes up the drinks, “I insist, Ace isn’t going to drink it is he?”

“I guess, I just want to keep a clear head, that's all. I know how big an opportunity this is”

Avis’ hands stop for a second, “Opportunity?”

"I know how lucky I am to be working with the studio, Mrs Amberg. Scripts written by someone like me aren't picked up often, I’m grateful for–” Once again Avis raises her hand signalling Penny to stop talking.

“I’m going to stop you there Ms Davis. Due to a change of circumstances, the production has been suspended indefinitely.”

"What?" Penny hears the words but doesn’t fully register what’s been said.

“Indefinitely" means production has been stopped for an unspecified period of time.” Penny's mind catches up and her stomach twists in frustration. Of course she knows what indefinitely means.

“I meant, what do you mean by changes?”

Avis explains, "The studio executives, and Ace, decided to prioritise other ventures. You should have been told after the meeting”

Penny feels her face heat up, not with embarrassment but with anger. She’s always struggled with keeping her cool, occasionally getting the ‘emotional woman’ label as a result. Closing her eyes, she focuses on her breathing, inhaling and exhaling before speaking again.

"How long ago was the meeting?" Avis picks up on the change in Penny’s body language. The pleasant, warm persona has melted away to reveal something else.

"It was finalised during the last executive meeting. 2 weeks ago." Avis narrows her eyes and braces for an outburst. She sees Penny’s jaw tense as she slumps back in the chair, finishing off her drink.

Penny thinks back, shaking her head. Ace knew for 2 weeks that the movie was binned, “Why did he arrange for this meeting then? He said it would be a ‘Pre-Production Lunch’ to break the ice”

Avis laughs at this, “Is that so?”

“I don’t see how this is funny.”

Avis flicks through the planner from earlier, “When things happen enough, you learn to see the humour in them, Ms Davis", Avis passes the planner to her, opened up at today’s date. She grabs their empty glasses, getting up for refills. Penny looks at the planner, more specifically the entry for this meeting, squinting to make out Ace’s sloppy handwriting.

1pm: Lunch with Ms Davis

3pm: Check-in at Grand Hotel (Honeymoon suite, have Stinson tell home I'm at a conference)

"He was leading you on sweetheart. He wanted to get your hopes up and be there when they fell to pieces."

Penny puts everything together and feels nauseous. She can't believe how naive she had been thinking it was purely business. As she continues to spiral, a fresh whisky glass is placed in her field of vision.

“Still sorry about the heart attack?"

Penny looks up at the grinning woman, nonchalant, unapologetic, sitting there with a drink in hand. Penny downs her drink in one go, making Avis jump forward, shocked when Penny doesn't flinch at the sting.

“Guess it's back to Paramount I go, hopefully their pity gets the offer back on the table" Penny stands up, smoothing her skirt, swaying as the alcohol hits her.

"That won't happen"

Penny raised an eyebrow, hand on hip. "You don't know how convincing I can be"

"I don't doubt it, but it won't get made at Paramount or anywhere. Section 34b,” Avis pulls out the contract, flipping to a specific section and reads aloud, "In the event of the movie no longer being produced, Ace Pictures regains the patent as long as the contract has been signed by the writer", Which it has"

Penny sits, grabbing the contract to see it herself. She reads over the section, hands gripping the pages, knuckles turning white around crumpling paper. Her jaw tightens again and she exhales forcefully from her nose as she chucks the document back to the table, leaning back in defeat.

"You're screwed"

"Yeah no shit Avis" Penny spits back at a gobsmacked Avis.

"It's Mrs Amberg to you"

Penny scoffs, "That was before your husband fucked me over,” Shaking her head, Penny stands up heading towards the drinks cart, “You have no idea the lengths I went to for this to get made."

"Oh I can imagine, next time you try to use your looks in a negotiation, try and make it less obvious. This,” Avis gestures to Penny’s outfit, “ isn’t class, it’s desperation"

Desperation? How dare she.

Penny turns on her heel and marches over to the desk, leaning over it making Avis sit back in her chair.

"Say what you will, but I only have to wear this costume for a few hours, but you, Mrs Avis Amberg, you're stuck in it for life, stuck with him." Penny flops down on her chair, waiting for a reaction from the woman opposite her.

Avis’ face stays unchanged, but Penny saw her eye twitch.

"You're upset, I'm going to let that slide"

Disappointed with the response, Penny sulks. A part of her wanted an argument, to let out the anger, the frustration, the embarrassment. She should apologise and leave but instead she rubs salt in the wound.

"What changed?" Penny mumbles.

"What?"

"What changed? What film took my place?"

Avis sighs and tosses Penny a folder, she opens it to see the script for Meg along with supporting documents.

"It's going to change the industry, Ace Pictures will be at the forefront of a new age of stories" Penny sees Avis smile, not smirk or grin, a genuine smile.

And Penny can see why, as she flicks through the script and treatment. It’s fresh, gripping and– Jack Castello is in it. Penny recognises that face the minute she finds his headshot amongst the documents.

Many moons ago, Penny had interviewed a gas station that didn't just service cars, she didn't get hired but remembered Jack, a staff member coming out of a car she now realises was Avis' after seeing it today parked in the lot.

Avis sees her expression change as Penny shuts over the folder.

"Is everything OK?"

Penny fakes a smile,"Yes I just need to get going", she stands up, grabbing her things, heading for the door.

“No, something changed. I don't want you leaving until I know you're OK"

Penny stops in her tracks, still facing the door.

“It's just that I know where I stand now. Ace or not, the cards were stacked against me. Maybe if I took you to dreamland I'd still have a job."

Avis' eyes widen, with surprise and anger, she tries to speak. Penny speaks over her as she puts on her gloves and jacket.

"You're the exact same as him, vile" Penny's lip quivers. She knows in saying this she is saying goodbye to her career. She knows the minute she leaves, Avis will make sure every studio in town blacklists her. She doesn’t want any part of this industry if these are people she needs to entertain, regardless of how painful it is to walk away.

Penny opens the door when a hand comes from behind, forcing it shut. She doesn’t know how Avis got across the room so fast but now she’s right at her back.

"Take that back" Despite her calm voice, Penny can hear the hurt hidden in her words.

"Now look who's desperate" Penny moves to open the door again but instead gets pinned to the door, arm twisted behind her back.

"I'll ask again, take that back" her breath tickling Penny's ear. The closeness of the position makes her shudder, Avis notices and smiles.

“So you worked with Jack? How come I never saw you at the pumps?" Avis rests her chin on Penny's shoulder, she tries to pull away, but Avis uses her other hand to hold her shoulder.

"I didn't work there!" Penny protests resting her forehead against the door.

"But you've been?" Avis hums, letting go of her arm, squeezing Penny’s shoulders. Penny subconsciously leans back into the feeling.

"...I interviewed when I first moved here" This pulled a laugh out of the woman at her back.

"Aw did Ernie reject you?"

"No, I just didn't want to deal with certain clientele"

"What clientele? Older men?"

"It was more men in general"

"Well that's a shame" Avis moves her hands from Penny’s shoulders to her waist, feeling the muscles tense as her hands wander. She reaches for the door, locking it, making Penny freeze.

"Turn around Penny"

She sheepishly turns around, keeping herself pressed into the wall trying to build space between them, but as she does, Avis steps closer. No matter where she looks, Avis is there, in her peripheral vision, her perfume and hairspray filling the air around them.

"Tell me, would you have taken me to Dreamland?" Avis pouts, toying with the buttons on Penny’s jacket.

Penny blushes, biting her lip, she shyly makes eye contact with Avis. Having the woman so close and talking so suggestively, makes Penny giggle as she nods.

"And if we take dreamland out of the equation, would you still want it?"

Penny nods more confidently, looking down at Avis’s lips.

"And remember, I can't give you your picture back, I can't help your career at all, would you still want this? Want me?"

Penny looks up to see Avis is now the one avoiding eye contact. She sees a different side to her, a vulnerability she suspects few are privy to. She looks away before Avis catches her staring.

"Yes Mrs Amberg"

"No, call me Avis"

Penny is shocked by the new intimacy but welcomes it, "Yes Avis"

"Good" Avis steps forward, hands on Penny’s cheeks, foreheads touching. Penny moves in more, but Avis pulls back. Penny whines, reaching for the other woman's waist, which is met with a slap on the hand.

"Please.." Penny pleads, rubbing her hand. Avis smiles, bringing the girl's hand to her mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

"Later. Right now I want you to wait while I finish work. Will you be good for me?" Avis doesn’t need to repeat herself as Penny makes a B-line for the sofa, reaching for the nearest magazine, leg bouncing, desperate for time to move quickly.

Avis watches the scene for a second before making her way back to her desk. The pile of work seems more interesting now that she has something to look forward to once it’s done. Someone to go home with. Who wants to go home with her. How exciting.

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It's done!

This is the first fic I've written in ages so excuse any bad writing or grammar (I have spell checked it but I am only human)

Any feedback or wrtting tips are welcome because this was so much fun. And if I end up doing a part 2 I want to do it justice.

Hope y'all enjoyed <3

#fanfic #wlw #writing #avis amberg #avis amberg x reader #patti lupone #fanfiction #bad grammar is still better than ai

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driverdefens · 1 year ago

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Resort-Style Living for University of Mississippi Students

ARCHIVE Oxford provides top-quality student housing near the University of Mississippi. Enjoy resort-style amenities, including a pool and clubhouse just minutes from campus. Discover luxury living in Oxford, MS, with ARCHIVE Oxford.

#Oxford MS Student Housing

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brokenheartsrecords · 8 months ago

Text

track one: oranges and lemonade and stuffy ballrooms words: 1.44K tw: none

YOU DO NOT REALLY WANT to attend a ball filled with pompous aristocrats and people your mother considers eligible bachelors. And you certainly do not want to spend time dancing with men who would rather talk about themselves and cotton rather than ask you about your interests.

A sorrowful situation, your mother says, shaking her head with that matchmaking smile on her face. You know what she’s planning as you pull on your gloves and adjust the neckline of your gown—wasn’t it a bit too low for a ball?—and play with the wings of your feather-braided fan.

The mask on your face, however, doesn’t require much adjustment, partially because it was already fixed in place, with the strings intertwined in your elaborate hairstyle, and partially because there were teardrop-shaped sapphires hanging from the edge of the mask. It would be a shame if you shifted the entire visor and ended up having the sapphires hang over your ears instead of where they lay upon your cheek.

The irony of your costume was not lost on you—the spinster wearing a weeping widow’s gown. Your mother and the dressmaker had a sense of humour.

“Look at him over there—Lord Castor. He’s a fine man, but has a love for gambling. If you marry him, you might have to live in a house that slowly loses all the decorations because of it.”

“Mama, I am not marrying him. I heard his years at Oxford only led to his skill at arithmetic being diminished rather than enriched.”

Your mother hits the back of your hand with her fan. “You mustn't say such things in public, darling.” She purses her lips, and then lowers her voice. “I heard he mistook his father’s new bride for his illegitimate daughter.”

You snort. “She’s young enough to look like a daughter more than that old man’s bride.”

“Oh, I pity her.” Mama says, sigh apparent in her voice. “I do not want you to end up the same way, which is why I push you towards the eligible men who are nearest to your age. Like that Mr. Richards.”

“I danced with almost everyone here at every single ball, Mama. And you know that Mr. Richards has a difficult mother.”

“How about Sir Adams?”

“His spoken English is abysmal at best.”

“You cannot expect to find a scholar in every individual.”

“I should hope that my husband should at least be able to carry an intelligent conversation with me, no, Mama?”

She sighs, her eyes catching on the rapidly approaching host of the ball. “There she comes, Ms. Skye. I’ve always disliked her— Ms. Skye! What a lovely ball you’ve put together.”

Ms. Skye laughs. “I did not expect you to accept my invitation, dearest Lady. I can only assume you’re here to hunt for your son-in-law.”

“If you would’ve assumed anything else, you would be sorely mistaken, Ms. Skye. I never asked, how are your grandchildren?”

The woman flicks her hand. “They’re being difficult, like every child is.”

“I would’ve understood that, of course, but I must say, my daughter was an angel when she was a baby.”

You hide your face behind your fan. Angel, of course you were one. You definitely weren’t like satan’s spawn at birth and in your childhood.

Mama continues. “How are your other sons?”

“Jamie is courting the daughter of a second son, can you believe it? I always pushed him towards girls with a better background, but what’s happened has happened. She’s a pain sometimes—no, often. Xander is still working under that physicist at Oxford, and Gray is yet unmarried. I tell him all the time that I might not live too long, and that I would love to see him married, but he seems rather fixed upon remaining a bachelor for the rest of his life.”

“My daughter is almost the same way, Ms. Skye. Every man I show her, she finds a way to reject him! He either wasted his years at Oxford, smells like fish, or has a fondness for the drink. I doubt I will be finding her a husband any time soon.”

The two women giggle, and you are starting to get tired of the conversation.

“Mama? May I be excused? I promise I shall be right by the refreshments.” You say, hoping your mother will let you go.

With a nod, she says she’ll come find you later, and you walk towards the lemonade. The neckline feels lower than usual, and it feels exceedingly hot in this room filled with stuffy aristocrats.

And the lemonade is warming. Just your luck.

You take a sip out of it anyway, and take a look at the dancers in front of you. Happy couples and then couples who dance just for show.

And then you, standing at the side, with not even one man you wish you could dance with.

Bored, you take a look at the doors, thinking if it would be so bad if you decided to take your carriage home right now, without waiting for your mother.

She’d be furious, of course, but could she fault you?

A figure stalks towards the doors, and you straighten your back, putting the lemonade down on the table. They seem to be in a hurry, either to get away from someone…

Or to meet someone.

Curiosity ignited, you walk to the doors and walk out of the doors.

Briefly, you consider the consequences of this action of yours. If that figure was a male, and it looked like it was, with the waistcoat and breeches, and if someone discovered the two of you together, it would mean one of two things.

One, a forced marriage to save your reputation. Your mother would turn it into a sign, saying that God sent you this opportunity so that you don’t have to resort to spinsterhood for the coming years of your life. Two, blackmail the witness before they manage to bring anyone else to multiply the number of witnesses.

You stop by the gates of the orangery, asking yourself if this is really worth it.

Three seconds later, you’re opening the doors of the orangery and stepping inside.

There’s a man at the corner of the room, holding shears in his hands and slowly removing oranges from the tree, later placing them in a basket.

He pauses in his movements, and you notice that he’s abandoned his coat as it hangs from a coat rack at the doors.

“Jamie, I do not wish to speak with you at the moment. And if Skye is looking for me, tell her to bother Nash instead.”

You walk towards the man with the shears. Your footsteps resonate throughout the orangery, and the man pauses in his movements again.

“Did you not hear me?”

You take a breath. “I am not your brother, or your mother for that matter. I just wanted to know who you are.”

You see a peek of blond hair as the man puts the shears down on the table. “I beg your pardon, madam?”

He steps out from behind the tree, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes an icy grey. He is, quite possibly, the most beautiful man you’ve ever looked at.

“I’ve never seen you before.” You say, ignoring him.

“I rarely go to dances. Who are you?”

You almost give him your name, before you decide against it. It’s inappropriate to give an introduction without your mother present.

Nearly as inappropriate as being alone with a man of a marriageable age without a chaperone.

As if coming to the same realisation, his eyebrows furrow even more. “You shouldn't be here, not without a chaperone.”

You shrug and go to the table, picking up the shears. “I doubt anyone will wish to come to an orangery when there’s a ball inside the house.”

“But you came. Someone might’ve followed you.”

“If they did, they did. I know almost everyone’s secrets, and blackmail always works.”

His eyebrows relax, and you see a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Any reason you sought to escape to the orangery?”

You open your mouth, but you hear the doors slam open.

And that is when you register just how close you and the blond man are. Two more steps and your chests would be touching.

The new arrival looks at the two of you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

You know him, at least. From all those balls he attends where he dances with the girl Skye had dismissed as the daughter of a second son.

Jameson Hawthorne.

And he’s a witness to what looks like a secret rendevous between two lovers.

#grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #tig fandom #grayson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs

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