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ptersparkers · 6 years ago

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was i your first kiss?

summary: as fate would have it, you meet tony stark yet again. only, you don’t know hes tony stark.

a/n: this was so cheesy but i LOVE it (and i livefor it) and i wouldn’t be bold enough to hang out with someone/kiss someone i haven’t known for very long...but let’s pretend this stuff happens irl.

warnings: fluff, maybe some swearing (??). sequel to mall date!

masterlist / taglist

One week since the mall incident and you hadn’t thought much about Tony. The encounter was unusual, sure, but you hadn’t really thought you’d ever see him again. The impromptu mall date was perfect how it ended.

Your stepmother hadn’t quite brought up the incident as Tony bade you a quick goodbye before she could string a sentence together. Your birthday was coming up in a few days and you were genuinely surprised that your father had convinced Alexandra to surprise you with a birthday party. You knew that in her hands, she’d throw you the party you didn’t want which is why your friends threw you a small, private party the night before.

“Don’t forget, the Starks are going to be there so be on your very best behavior,” Alexandra said when you passed through the kitchen.

“The who?”

“The Starks, Y/N,” Alexandra snapped. “They’re a very important family and I need you to be on your best behavior.” You rolled your eyes and snatched an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Sure, whatever.”

The entirety of your “birthday party” was an excuse for her to network. You weren’t surprised that she knew prominent families but you were surprised knowing that all these people accepted a birthday invitation for someone they didn’t know.

You hadn’t stepped out of your room until you were called by Ally from downstairs to “hurry your ass up or we’ve leaving you behind,” as she put it. For the millionth time that day, you rolled your eyes before you stepped into the limo Alexandra had rented for the evening. The backless gold slip dress you wore pressed against the leather of the seat and your golden train pooled around your heels.

You took a look in the small mirror up front and grinned at your red lips, admiring your handiwork for a mere moment because you knew no one else would.

The building was grand with two pillars in the front that decorated the doorway. There were already guests bustling inside who cheered for you —your stepmother— when you entered. You pretended to keep a smile before everyone said hello to Alexandra, leaving you the perfect opportunity to raid the dessert bar.

“I see you’re still a sucker for food,” you heard a familiar voice say from beside you.

You turned around to see Tony in a pristine grey suit wearing that smirk you could recognize from a mile away. Hair hair was tousled with a lick of gel and you could practically smell the aftershave on him.

“Tony? What are you doing here?” you asked as you popped a small piece of chocolate truffle in your mouth.

“Alexandra Smith invited my family to a gathering,” he said, piling desserts into a small plate.

“Well, you must be part of a pretty important family because I don’t know anyone here,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I’m, ah, a Stark.”

You turned to him and deadpanned.

“A Stark?” Tony nodded. You laughed in disbelief. “Of course you are.”

“What does that mean?”

You shook your head. “My stepmother warned me to be on my best behavior because your family’s around. Looks like I’m gonna rebel.” Tony laughed and bumped your hip with his.

“Sounds like a perfect plan to me. I, um, I don’t want you to think differently of me from that guy you met in the mall,” he said nervously. “I had a really good time.”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I couldn’t care less about your money.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you understand how many times I hear that,” he said cautiously. You looked at him and put down the plate you were holding and grabbed his face with your hands, positioning him to look at you.

“You, Tony Stark, are nothing but that incredibly funny guy I met in a department store. And an idiot, of course.”

Tony smiled. “That’s a relief. You’re the only girl in here who isn’t fawning over me.“ He paused. “And I don’t mean that like you think I mean it.”

You chuckled. “I know, Tony. Anyway, care to pig out on dessert until we can’t eat any more?”

“Oh, baby, you read my mind.”

“So what brings you here anyway? I’m sure you would’ve found a reason to ditch your parents,” you asked, sitting down.

“I couldn’t. We had a deal that they’d let me drive my father’s red Ferrari if I went to this celebration. I’m not regretting that,” he said.

“I’m honored you think so highly of me,” you said while putting a piece of cake in your mouth.

“You should. Anyway, my father usually comes to these benefits to network and talk about business while my mom uses it as an excuse to get out of the house,” Tony explained. “Free food for me.”

“What did your invitation say anyway?” you asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“A networking opportunity, or something like that.”

You scoffed. “Of course.”

“Why do you say that?”

You sighed. “I want to preface this by saying I didn’t expect anything from my stepmother. But, I thought my father had convinced her to throw me a birthday party since that’s what she told me last week.”

Tony’s eyes widened with realization. “It’s your birthday today! Right, how could I have forgotten? The big ‘ole twenty.”

“No longer a kid, not quite an adult.”

He laughed. “That’s for sure. Well, I can always sneak you alcohol. Especially now, if you need it.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. It’s more fun being sober at these things because I can actively make fun of rich snobs and they won’t care.” You looked at Tony sheepishly. “No offense.”

“Hey,” he said with his hands up in surrender. “None taken. Remember last week when I told you I had my fair share of opinions when it comes to rich people, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Everyone in here is hiding their insecurities in plain sight but they’re all too proud to admit they have any.” Tony looked off to the distance for a moment before looking back at you. “I suppose I could be the same but I like to believe I’m not.”

“Well if you’re anything like the person you were in the mall,” you said, “then I don’t think you should classify yourself as a rich snob. Billionaire or not. Are you guys billionaires?”

Tony laughed at your dramatic antics. “Thanks, Y/N. Most of my friends are social elites who don’t understand the joys of being in environments that aren’t catered to the rich. God, that sounds like I’m shitting on people who aren’t rich.”

“Hm. Well, not really. I mean, you understand that pure happiness doesn’t come from money and I think that’s a good thing,” you reassured.

“I’m happy to hear you say that,” he said genuinely. Tony played around with his fork. “Sometimes I think I don’t belong there.”

“I feel you in that one,” you said. “I’m sitting in the middle of the room not having a fortune to my name and I know that everyone here is judging me since they’ve never heard of my last name.”

“And I feel like my money doesn’t define me but it defines other people, and that makes them angry.”

“We’ve got a lot of issues, don’t we?” you asked hypothetically.

Tony chuckled. “Maybe. But the most important thing we have is each other, right? It’s like the mall all over again.”

“I can’t tell if you’ve saved me or if I’ve saved you.”

“We saved each other, let’s agree on that.” Tony stood up from his seat and fixed his suit jacket before standing in front of you. “Can I have this dance?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said sheepishly. “I’ve never tried slow dancing before.” Tony grabbed your hand and helped you stand up, interlocking your fingers with his as he looked straight at you.

“Me either. But fake it until we make it. Right, honey?”

You blushed at the nickname. “Right.”

Tony led you to an obscure part of the dance floor and held you firmly in his grasp. His hand lay relaxed on your waist and the other held your hand with a delicate touch while you took the liberty to let your head rest comfortably on his chest.

“You know, I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” you confessed.

“What? Really?”

“Mhm.”

“What was that stunt we pulled in the mall?” Tony asked.

“I don’t know, it just felt right,” you said. “I mean, if anyone else had asked me I probably would’ve said no but you and I had very similar humor.” Tony laughed at that, swaying you back and forth as a slow pace.

“We do, don’t we?” Tony paused. “Y/N, I’m really happy we met.”

“Me too, Tony.” Tony looked down at your figure for a moment as a realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“No, Y/N, I mean it. You made me feel happier that one day than anyone else has in my entire life. I couldn’t get that one innuendo mall date out of my head and finding you here was magic,” Tony said. “I don’t believe in much, but I believe in us.”

You didn’t say anything but you smiled to yourself and Tony saw. That was enough for him and he had a feeling you reciprocated those feelings when you pulled his body closer and nuzzled your head into his chest.

When the party was coming to a slow down, you bade your father goodnight and Tony did the same, opting to leave together in Tony’s car. You had told him you wanted to show him your favorite spot to in all of New York, and this fairly warm-weathered night didn’t deter you both from stepping out.

“Do you have a blanket?” you asked Tony, grimacing at the thought of sitting on the grass.

“In the trunk,” he said after he shut your door and opened the trunk. “One gigantic blanket.”

“It’s almost like you planned it,” you teased.

Tony smiled. “Unplanned plans are the best, aren’t they?”

You laid the blanket out and sat on the fabric, waiting for him to do the same thing. He stood for a second before taking his suit jacket off and slipping it around your shoulders, despite your protests.

“It’s not even that cold,” you reasoned.

“Let me he the gentleman my mother taught me to be, Y/N.”

You laughed and snuggled yourself in his jacket. Tony sat down beside you and you made the bold decision to move your side closer to his, barely touching his side. His eyes flickered to yo figure for a brief moment and moved closer to your side, and you acknowledged that by letting your back rest against his chest.

“The stars are so beautiful tonight,” you said, making light conversation.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You blushed, but scoffed nonetheless. “That was so cheesy, Tony.”

“Call me ‘Cheese Whiz.’”

“Okay, ‘Cheese Whiz,’” you retorted.

“You need a nickname too.”

“How about ‘Most Beautiful Person On Earth’?”

Tony smiled. “Pretentious, but in this case, I think it fits the profile.” You turned around and sat on your knees as Tony watched.

“You are a charmer, aren’t you?” you asked, letting out a soft laugh.

“What can I say? You make it easy to flirt with you.”

Without second thought, you hiked up your silk slip dress just enough for you to lift your leg, swinging it over his lap. You let yourself sit up straight and watched as Tony leaned back slightly, tilting his head upward slightly to meet his gaze with yours.

“You’re even pretty from up there,” Tony said honestly after a moment of silence had passed. You ran your hands through his touseled hair before letting it slide down his chest, landing in the center. Tony felt as if time had slowed down as he watched intently while you lowered yourself until you comfortable sat on his lap, bringing your hands up to his jawline.

“Baby,” he whispered. He looked directly in your line of sight before leaning forward, letting his lips linger before pressing a longing kiss to yours. You let your arms wrap themselves around his shoulders as he snakes his around your waist, letting your bodies become closer. You pulled away first and Tony pressed a small kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Wait, was I your first kiss?” Tony asked as he tucked strands of loose hair behind your ear.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“I’m honored,” Tony said, pushing himself forward to kiss you once more.

***

Taglist:

@kath94210 @sessi03 @olliekookie @edgyhargreeves @simonsbluee @meraki--me @sleep-i-ness @amourski @zaynjawy @captainlarsonn @katiemcrae @holyhellthatbook @madeismyname @bands-and-shietz @janndishstuff17 @janndishstuff17.

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ghostofviperwrites · 5 years ago

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Suzuki Gunz Crime Family - Chapter 16

Warnings: criminal activity, explicit language

April 29, 2003

Minoru sat staring at the empty conference table, a long forgotten tumbler of scotch near his right hand that tapped impatiently on the wooden surface. Minoru was a man that thrived on plans and contingency plans to those plans. He didn’t like when things didn’t follow their expected path. Not only had things veered off course, but they had taken twists and turns he hadn’t even considered. That was what had Minoru in such a foul mood. He prided himself on seeing what no one else did, and the last few months had proven him fallible.

Since Los Ingobernables had come into their lives Minoru was learning some valuable lessons. Lessons that tasted like bitter crow at the moment, but he knew they were going to help him become a stronger leader at the end of it all. He just had to push back at the sting to his pride look at things from an outsider’s perspective.

The bonds of trust were still tenuous at best between the Guns and Ingos, but they were slowly forming. The two groups worked rather well together when they weren’t trying to kill each other. The fact that there hadn’t been any major bloodshed was being counted as a victory in Minoru’s book. Especially considering more than half of his kobun had wanted to murder Evil over the course of their weapons training. Minoru was positive the feeling was mutual.

Taka was very good at what he did, but when it came to Bushi and his intelligence gathering skill the Guns always seemed a step behind, a fact the Ingos delighted in. It rankled thinking you were the best only to discover you weren’t. Rather than letting his shortcomings bring him down he was honing his skills, shadowing Bushi on the daily and trying to soak in every bit of knowledge the masked man had. Minoru had been concerned as Bushi hadn’t seemed willing to share the secrets of his trade, but over the past week or so he had begrudgingly started sharing tidbits with Taka.

Aside from Evil’s training and Taka’s shadowing of Bushi, Minoru hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the other Ingobernables brethren. In fact, until a few hours ago he hadn’t heard so much as a peep. The phone call from Naito had been the precursor for the council meeting Minoru had called. The reason he was sitting in this empty conference room stewing at being one step behind yet again. He shouldn’t be receiving news second hand. How did the Ingos always manage to get one foot up on them?

It was a solemn group who filed into the room one by one, their moods a direct reflection of their boss’s. They didn’t know what had him in a snarl, but his tone had made it clear he wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Does anyone care to fill me in on why Tetsuya Naito has to call me to impart information?” Minoru growled flashing a murderous glance around the table, watching as eyes lowered from his and bodies shifted uncomfortably before pinning his glare on Taka.

Taka shriveled beneath Minoru’s censure, sinking back in his chair and swallowing hard.

“Tell me Taka, what is Naito coming to tell me?” Minoru asked coldly.

“I…I don’t know sir.” Taka said softly lowering his head in shame.

“Anybody?” Minoru asked turning his sharp eyes on the rest of his kobun. “Does anybody in this fucking room know anything?” Rising to his feet and slamming his palms down on the table with a resounding smack as nobody spoke up.

“Tranquillo Minoru,” Naito’s voice from the doorway had them all spinning towards the sound finding the Los Ingobernables leader leaning insolently against the frame.

“How the fuck do you always get in my goddamn house?” Minoru shouted throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“And I will not tranquillo” He spat as he sat back in his seat. “Not when I’m always in the fucking dark.”

Naito sniffed and cast a disparaging look at the assembled men, making his way to the end of the table and taking a seat, throwing his feet up on the polished surface.

“Yes. Once again it seems it falls to us to fill you in.” Naito said with a frown. “Your lack of….diligence for want of a better word, is troubling my comrades.” He stared dispassionately at Minoru. “They’re beginning to question our alliance. Wondering what you bring to the table?”

Minoru stayed quiet though he wanted to defend his men. At this moment he couldn’t. What had they provided to benefit the Ingos?

“Evil seems to think we’re doing all the work and you’re getting all the benefit.” Naito continued. “He makes a valid point. And now our families are oh so conveniently bound together.”

Lance shot to his feet with a growl, sneering at Naito.

“You morons are the ones that insisted on the fucking marriages!”

“Lance sit down and shut up! This isn’t the time.” Minoru barked staring down the larger man until he slid back into his seat.

Naito smirked and nodded in concession to Lance with a slight bow of his head.

“We came to you because you showed promise.” Naito said looking around the room. “I still think you have promise. My boys are a little more impatient than I am, but they’ll come around. We are family after all.” His tooth filled grin earned a snarl from Davey.

“In case you haven’t noticed we’re in the middle of a fucking war!” Davey exploded. “Can you quit wasting time with your bullshit?”

As Naito stared impassively back at him Davey’s fist clenched, itching to bury themselves in his smug face. Seeing things quickly escalating Minoru stepped in.

“Davey’s correct. Time is of the essence. We don’t have time for your little games.” Minoru said through gritted teeth. “Now, did you come here to flagellate us for our shortcomings or do you actually have something to say?”

Stretching languidly just to irk Minoru’s already frayed temper, Naito slowly lowered his feet to the ground in a big show before getting serious.

“Chaos imploded two days ago.” He began ignoring the outbursts the announcement brought. “Civil war within. Several high ranking members broke rank and joined up with Bullet Club. Including Okada’s right hand man Gedo. Which means you have been given the gift of time.”

Naito watched their reactions, ranging from utter disbelief to spat curses, Taichi and Kanemaru immediately huddling together and whispering fervently.

“How do you figure we have more time?” Zack spoke up. “The time to strike is now. While they’re distracted by their own drama we take them down.”

Naito stared blandly at him before closing his eyes and rubbing his temples and giving an annoyed sigh.

“Nooo.” He said drawing out the vowels. “What you do is sit back, let them fuck each other up and then pick up the pieces. There’s no sense wasting firepower on them when they can do it themselves.”

Loud rumblings filled the room, voices throwing their opinions around, talking over each other and quickly escalating to a cacophony of noise.

‘I said what I needed to say. I have places to be.” Naito said rising from his seat and heading towards the door. He paused at the doorway looking back over the room. “You’re time is running short on providing some benefit to the Ingobernables. I suggest you start making yourselves useful or we may have to rethink this business arrangement. Things can always happen to sever familial ties.”

Silence descended as Naito made his proclamation and left, tension in the air as they tried to process both his news and ultimatum.

“He’s not wrong.” Desperado said after a few minutes of quiet. “We’ve done fuck all to benefit the Ingos. Besides pay them for some guns.” He shrugged. “Since Iizuka got shot we’ve been holed up like a bunch of pussies and running around with our tails between our legs. We’re not living up to what we are. What we can be.”

“I don’t blame them one bit for being aggravated with us.” Kanemaru seconded. “We let this setback throw us off and have let Los Ingos dictate everything since they showed up. We need to stop being pushovers and bring something to the damn table.”

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, everyone looking around not wanting to acknowledge the truth in Despy and Kanemaru’s words, but unable to deny them.

“I agree with Naito.” Taichi finally said garnering everyone’s attention. “We let Bullet Club and Chaos destroy each other and then we come in and clean up the scraps.”

Minoru sat back listening to the various arguments being thrown about the room, both in favor of Taichi’s recommendation and against, siphoning through the logistics as he considered every angle. Holding a hand up he brought silence to the room, commanding their attention.

“For now we’re going to wait.” Minoru declared. “We’re going to watch and wait.”

Protests immediately sprang from those in contention, Lance’s voice the loudest as he bitched about sitting back and doing nothing.

“We’re not doing nothing.” Minoru said sharply. “We’re going to learn, we’re going to figure out every nuance of this war and we’re going to strike when the time is right. Naito has a point. There is no sense in risking our lives and wasting our reserves when they can do it themselves. When they’re at their weakest we will take them both out and take over their territories. Maybe Taka can redeem himself and get some actual intel for a change.”

“In the meantime, we need to pull our heads out of our asses and start showing what Suzuki Gun is all about.”

May 17, 2003

The sleek red Ferrari Spider glided to a stop in front of a dilapidated building, the occupants peering out the front windshield doubtfully.

“You sure this is the right place?” Minoru asked skeptically from the passenger’s seat. Sliding his sunglasses back up into his hair Minoru looked over at the driver’s seat where Kanemaru was leaning over the steering wheel peering at what was supposed to be the headquarters for Los Ingobernables.

With a frown Kanemaru pulled out his phone, double checking the address Hiromu had texted. Given this was their first visit to LIJ territory he was concerned they had the wrong place. This certainly didn’t look like the home front of a very successful arms group.

“That’s the address they gave us.” Kanemaru confirmed.

Slowly the two men exited the low slung vehicle, Kanemaru making his way to Minoru’s side as they hesitated until the door was pushed open.

“You boys going to stand out here all day or you coming in?” Bushi asked holding the door open expectantly.

Walking into the building Minoru looked at the run down cheap furniture littering the small office space making no effort to hide his distaste at the dirty surroundings.

“I really don’t think anyone is going to want to break in here,” Kanemaru said jokingly as Bushi latched five different deadbolts across the door they had just walked through.

“You never know.” Bushi said with a shrug. “Course leaving that fancy car out there I don’t think they’ll bother with our humble abode.”

“Shit!” Kanemaru moaned looking at his brand new car through the window. “Nobody better touch my fucking car.”

“Follow me.” Bushi said ignoring Kanemaru’s whining. Both Minoru and Kanemaru looked around in confusion as they didn’t see anywhere to follow him to. That was until Bushi pushed a hidden button that made the shelving unit on the wall slide out of out of the way revealing a hidden door. Pulling out a key he opened the door and motioned for Minoru and Kanemaru to proceed him.

Kanemaru had to swallow back his feelings of claustrophobia as they ended up in a room no larger than an elevator and Bushi closed the door behind them. Through the walls they could hear the shelves slide back into place before Bushi pressed a code into the keypad on the opening another sliding door.

Kanemaru gladly hurried out of the small space finding a long dark hallway with no end in sight.

“Is all this really necessary?” Minoru asked as Bushi lead them down the hall, motion sensitive lights flickering on every so often to illuminate their path. “It seems a bit paranoid.”

Bushi stopped, turning around to look at the two men.

“We have the one thing that everyone wants. We are the only ones with access to that thing. I’d say it’s very necessary.” Bushi responded seriously.

Minoru conceded with a nod and they resumed walking. He supposed he could see their point. Guns were so heavily outlawed it was nearly impossible to get them in Japan. At this point, LIJ were the only source for distribution. Minoru could only imagine how many people wanted to get their hands on what the Ingos had. And what they were willing to do to get them.

They walked for at least ten minutes, taking so many twists and turns and going through so many doorways that Minoru knew there wasn’t a chance he would be able to make it through here on his own. He supposed that was LIJ’s intention as well. Despite the budding relationship between the two factions, trust was still hard to come by. For the past several weeks the families had been working closely together. The Guns arms shipment had been smuggled in and Evil had worked closely with each member until they were proficient to his standards with each weapon, but the Ingos were still wary on this new alliance and some of them weren’t shy in letting the Guns know their feelings.

Expecting yet another door leading down yet another hallway Minoru and Kanemaru were surprised when Bushi led them up a staircase that opened into an opulent sitting room littered with leather couches and marble flooring that was more in line with their expectations for the LIJ headquarters.

Bushi asked leading them over to the full sized bar along the back while where a pretty Japanese girl was leaning against the counter.

“Get them some drinks,” Bushi told the girl, swatting her on the behind and making her yelp as she scurried around the bar.

“That’s Masae. She’s Hiromu’s…friend.” Bushi explained vaguely waving his hand towards the girl who was quickly filling the requested drinks for Minoru and Kanemaru.

“I thought Hiromu liked men?” Minoru asked thinking back to their encounters with the strange man. He had gotten the distinct impression Hiromu had a thing for Taka.

“Hiromu likes everything.” Bushi said with a laugh. “He doesn’t discriminate.”

“So you put Hiromu’s girl to work?” Kanemaru asked looking over at Masae with interest.

“Bitch needs to earn her keep somehow,” Bushi responded with a lift of one shoulder.

“Fuck you Bushi.” Masae snapped pushing the two drinks across the counter and glaring at Bushi.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll get my turn.” Bushi smirked. “Hiromu’s gonna get bored like he always does and then you’re fair game.”

Leading them through another doorway Bushi gave them a mini tour pointing out the offices and introducing them to various employees of the family. They stumbled across Hiromu and Naito in the game room, in the middle of a rousing street race on one of the systems.

“Your woman is getting a bit comfortable Hiromu,” Bushi said as he poked his head through the door as he was leading Kanemaru and Minoru down towards their meeting room.

“I’m almost done with her.” Hiromu replied absently not taking his focus off the TV. “Be patient Bushi-san.”

“We’ll be there in two minutes.” Naito promised.

Their journey continued, Bushi seemingly following pulsing music coming from the end of the hallway. Knocking loudly on the door Bushi yelled for Evil and Sanada before continuing on his way, leading Minoru and Kanemaru towards LIJ’s meeting room.

Minoru pulled up short causing Kanemaru to bump into his back when Bushi pushed open the door and they found it already occupied. A stern looking man with a goatee and shoulder length black hair with the sides shaved stared back at them appraisingly.

“Minoru, Kanemaru…meet Shingo.” Bushi said without elaboration.

“Who the fuck is Shingo?” Kanemaru asked, his hand trailing nervously to his waistband, finger itching for his trigger. This was a surprise and he did not like surprises.

“Shingo is our brother and if you pull on him you will both die.” Bushi warned.

“You didn’t tell us there was another member of your family.” Minoru said lowly through clenched teeth warily keeping his eye on the man who hadn’t moved a muscle since they walked in.

“There’s a lot we don’t tell you.” Bushi said flatly pushing past them into the room, taking the seat next to Shingo. “Shingo has been in the States taking care of some business for us. He’s home now, so get used to him.”

Minoru and Kanemaru shuffled in, taking seats at the opposite side of the table. Inwardly Minoru was seething at the blatant disrespect to Ingobernables were showing him and his family. Shingo grinned at them as they sat, eyeing them challengingly making them groan as the rest of the Ingobernables filtered in.

“Another fucking Naito,” Minoru groused. “Just fucking great.”

#Suzuki gunz crime family #sgcf #Suzuki gunz fanfic #Suzuki gunz imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywiting #ghostofviperwrites

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shadow1879 · 7 years ago

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Dinner with the McCall’s

“You can’t wear that.”

Stiles looked down at his hoodie and worn jeans before meeting his father’s eyes, confused, “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

The Sheriff sighed and looked to the ceiling giving it a “God help me look”.

Stiles rolled his eyes. This whole thing was stupid.

Tonight, was the night. Both Stiles and his father were going to have dinner with the McCall’s and neither of them were very excited about it. Stiles knew he wasn’t being fair but this whole situation wasn’t fair.

The plan had been simple.

They would head over to the McCall’s house for a simple and casual dinner. Momma McCall even promised to make Stiles favorite dessert. See that’s a good plan. However, the plan had been changed. No, changed was not a good enough word for it.

The plan had been destroyed.

Shot down.

Blown out of the water.

Dead on impact.

Scott had called him right as he was pulling into his driveway after school in a panic which didn’t innately bother Stiles, for it was Scott’s usual persona. Hence, he didn’t hesitate to ask his buddy what was up. That was a bad decision. An ultra-bad decision. One he is regretting at this very moment.

After Stiles had asked the stupid question Scott proceeded to spew out in one who sentence, “SO MOM CALLED AND TOLD ME THAT SHE HAD FORGOTTEN THAT SHE HAD PLANS TONIGHT TO GO TO A FANCY RESTAURANT WITH THE NEW GUY BUT SAID WE SHOULD ALL GO THERE INSTEAD SO DRESS NICE AND BE AT B&B’S BY SEVEN YOU CAN’T BACK OUT SEE YA BYE” And with that he hung up without giving Stiles a chance to say anything.

Anything like, say, NO!

B&B’s was an extremely fancy restaurant that wasn’t even in Beacon Hills. It was about an hour away and didn’t take walk-in costumer’s. Hell, they didn’t need to when they had the place booked for like three years. Plus, the place was crazy expensive.

Stiles crossed his arms at his father. The Sheriff looked unimpressed and pointed towards the stairway, “Now Stiles.”

He flailed his hands around, “Well, what am I supposed to wear?”

“This is a black-tie place, emphasis on the tie part.”

The boy dropped his arms and snorted, “I don’t own a tie.”

John started to pull on his suit jacket, “Barrow one of mine,” He paused as he caught a look of himself in the entryway mirror, “Actually bring me the blue one while you're up there and go put on your black pants and red shirt. You can use my black tie.”

Stiles groaned but followed the older man’s orders. He hated the red shirt. No matter where he went in it he always stood out when he wore it; a bright crimson stain in a sea of whites, blacks, and navy blues but he understood why this father wanted him to wear it. The shirt had been a gift from Momma McCall. It was given to him as a gift for an upcoming dance at school. The dance had been a disaster and it wasn’t like he could return the shirt. Therefore, he was stuck with it.

So, he trudged up the stairs and grabbed the stiff thing from the dusty hanger in the back of his closet. Luckily, it was hung nice so it had no wrinkles. The pants, on the other hand, were on a heap on the floor but Stiles refused to iron them. After a second’s contemplation he grabbed the black snug-fitting vest the came with the shirt and threw it on as well before heading to his father’ s room to grab the ties.

Ties in had he stomped back downstairs and tossed the blue one to his father who caught it and ran a scrutinizing eye on Stiles clothes before nodding.

“Much better, get your tie on and grab shoes then we will leave.”

Stiles glowered as he slid his tie around his neck, “I’m wearing sneakers.”

The older Stilinski flipped up his collar and copied his son’s actions with his own tie, his blue eye’s gaining a little twinkle at his son’s defiant tone. He shrugged, “Fine be me.”

He finished with his tie before walking over to his son and taking the strip of fabric from the pale fumbling fingers. Stiles let go and waited as he father tied his tie with a few quick loops and tightened it. He pulled the boy’s collar down before setting his hands on thin shoulders and meeting the boy’s eyes.

“I’m going to say something and Son, I want you to listen to me.”

Stiles held the gaze, staring into comforting blue eyes and nodded.

“Tonight will be fine and it’s been a long time coming.”

Stiles sighed, playing with the bottom of the vest, “We can’t afford it, Dad.”

He watched as his father’s gaze flickered before he dropped his hands and backed away, “I know about the bills Dad and I get that the New Guy is rich and all but we can’t do this.

The entryway light flicked as his father smiled, “You and Scott still calling him that?”

Stiles gave a wavering smile at the lame attempt at a subject change, “Yeah, we are.”

The sheriff stuck his hands in his pockets, leaned back against the door and looked at the old rug. “Honestly, I don’t know how we are going to do tonight. We might be only ordering salads or hell, maybe we will order bread but we can’t cancel.”

Raising his gaze, John spoke in a low voice, “These people are our family. Melissa’s been married for a while now and they dated a long time before that,” he paused eyeing his son “I know you haven’t met the ‘new guy’ yet, you chickened out at the wedding. It’s time.”

“I know.” Stiles might not like it but he knew. Like his father said, it was long past time.

John nodded and both of them were quiet. They may not like the circumstances of this meeting but both knew there would be no backing out.

Stiles stared at the door contemplating. He was absentmindedly pulling at the edge of his vest as his thoughts flew in every direction and he tried to get a handle on them. He didn’t want to go tonight, but he didn’t want to let his brother down. He didn’t want to meet the ‘New Guy’ but after all Momma McCall had done for both him and his father he knew he would. He thought about the pack and how tomorrow he had to start studying with Isaac. How Scott really wanted him to hang with the pack and how far they had grown apart the last months.

He didn’t want them to grow farther. Both Scott and Melissa seemed so far away; like another world away. His fingers clenched tightly around the black silk fabric of his vest. He did want to lose them but he felt as if they were slipping away. Suddenly the ‘McCall and Stilinski Family’ was fading into the ‘McCall and Pack Family’. The Stilinski’s fading out into the background. It hurt.

Stiles was jerked out of his thoughts when his father gave a slight huff and heaved himself off the door. The older Stilinski grabbed his keys and wallet, nodding towards the door, “Good, now get shoes and get your ass in the Cruzer, it has the gas we need.”

His tone held a note of finality that gave Stiles a sense of peace. They were doing this but they were going in together and they were doing it for family. He had promised himself that he would try for his brother and now it was time for him to face the wolf. Or wolves if Derek was going to be there too. So, Stiles slid on his unlaced sneakers and they walked out the door.

……….

The Stilinski men reached B&B’s about fifteen minutes early which was a first for two men who were usually late for everything. Unanimously, the boys decided that rather than pay for valet parking that they would use those fifteen minutes to find free parking and walk to the restaurant. What they weren’t expecting was that they were downtown so their parking options were very limited.

Very limited.

As in the only spot they found was a back lot to another restaurant about a ten-minute walk away. Thank God, they were early. After parking and a quick jog back to B&B’s, they arrived with about three minutes to spare. Both were panting a little as they walked up to the doors.

“I told you…. you need to start…exercising more, oh God!” Stiles panted and bent over grabbing his knees, attempting to pull limited air into his burning lungs.

The sheriff, who was also having trouble recovering cocked an eyebrow as he leaned back against a column outside of the restaurant, “Says the boy more worm out, then his old man.”

“So, you admit you’re old?” Stiles grinned at the look his father threw his way before straightening and pointing to the building.

“Should we go in?”

His father turned and looked over around at some of the cars in line to be parked, “Do you know what kind of car this guy drives?”

Stiles snorted, “Well, his son drives a shiny black Camaro, I’ve seen Jackson riding around in a Porsche, and Erica and Lydia both own Mercedes; So, I’m guessing he owns a Ferrari or hey, maybe a Lamborghini!”

That was all that really needed to be said as they starred out at all the shiny overly expensive cars lined up.

“Well, crap”

Stiles nodded his acquiescence at his father’s summary of their situation.

Yep, that covered it.

After a moments discussion, they walked through the doors. The older Stilinski took the lead by heading towards the desk while Stiles hung back by the bathrooms. It was going to be okay. Really it was. They arrived on time and didn’t have to pay for parking or tip the valet. So, already this night was going accordingly, but as he looked around himself he saw a sea of shiny silver and folded napkins. He saw fitted suits and fine dresses, shiny shoes and gleaming high heels, Gucci clutches and Rolex watches.

Damn, this was crazy.

He suddenly felt relieved that him and his father didn’t look that out of place. Sure, he didn’t have a suit jacket but with his vest, he still looked like he belonged. His father had opted to actually wear a suit. His was dressed in a black suit with a bright blue tie. Stiles smiled and relaxed a little because if you didn’t know the stressful situation the family was in you would have no idea that the sheriff didn’t belong here.

He watched as his father smiled pleasantly at the hostess; it always shocked Stiles how much his father’s face would transform when he smiled. The lines around his eyes and mouth which were deep grooves worn in by all the stress he was under from being the sheriff of a town that was now overrun by supernatural creatures would transform. He literally looked years younger. Decades even. The hostess, a beautiful lady probably around his dad’s age was laughing and leaning towards his father. Stiles smirked and rolled his eyes.

Well, at least the old man still had it.

Stiles attention was abruptly snatched away from his fathers wooing of the pretty hostess when an arm slid through his. He was just about to turn when a familiar voice spoke up, “Well, what is a handsome young man like you doing all alone?”

Stiles’ smirk transformed into a bright smile at Melissa’s horrible attempt at a southern accent. Placing his opposite hand over the one she had wrapped around him, he turned halfway towards her. Answering in his own southern drawl, “Well ma’am, I guess I am not alone anymore.”

Warm chocolate brown eyes, so much like Scott’s smiled up at him and she squeezed the arm she had captured a little tighter. Melissa looked stunning in a black swingy knee-length dress and gold jewelry that matched her shoes. Her dark brown hair, which she usually wore in a tight ponytail was pilled on her head, only a few springy curls escaping and still looking sophisticated. She looked beautiful and happy.

“Well, I got to say you boys clean up nice.”

Stiles smiled a little slyly, “I should give you the number of my personal designer. She is totally responsible for our attire.”

Melissa’s smile deepened and her cheeks pinked a little, “She is talented,” then she looked towards John who was still in conversation with the hostess, she nodded towards him “now Sir, since my husband abandoned me to walk to the ladies’ room alone would you do me the kind favor of walking me to my seat?”

She leaned forward and whispered, “And maybe save your father along the way?”

Stiles looked back and noted the hostess had her hand on his arm and was leaning towards the Sheriff. The older Stilinski was leaning a little back and was rubbing the back of his neck. That was a sure-fire tell that he was uncomfortable.

“Nope, I say we leave him, serves him right for flirting.”

Melissa laughed, a calming sound, as she shook her head and tugged him forward, “You boys are awful.”

Stiles winked at her, “You know it.”

Together they reached the hostess booth and collected his very frazzled father before Melissa let go of his arm and lead the way into the plethora of white linen-topped tables. His father followed at her side while Stiles stayed behind them.

Soon both of them stopped and Stiles knew this was it. He watched as Melissa walked around the table that had three men standing around it. She stopped next to the man that Stiles had only seen at the wedding from a distance, beside him was Scott who was wearing a tan colored suit that he had worn at the wedding. Stiles met his gaze and waved. Scott was literally bouncing on his toes as he waved back, looking like a puppy. Beside the mutt was Derek.

The Alpha, unlike most of the occupants of the room, wasn’t wearing a suit. The wolf was dressed in actual jeans. Nice jeans but still jeans. He had paired that with a light blue button-up shirt that was untucked and had forgone the tie. Stiles felt a little more comfortable standing close to him. Maybe he hasn't underdressed after all.

Hazel green eyes clashed with hazel and Stiles was shocked at how predatory they appeared. With the candlelight coming off of the tables those unique eyes seemed to burn into Stiles. Derek smirked at the boy but nodded pleasantly. Honestly, the man was as easy to read an instruction manual written in ancient Chinese dialect.

Stiles settled on a short nod back really uncertain about what else he was supposed to do.

Melissa stopped next to a man with crystal blue eyes. Those eyes stared calculating at the Stilinski men but the man smiled welcoming and offered a hand Stiles father.

“Sheriff Stilinski, a pleasure to see you again.”

Stiles father reached out his own hand a genuine smile on his face, “Peter Hale, the pleasure is mine.”

Peter smiled back and the sheriff turned reached up a hand and placed it on Stiles' shoulder drawing the boy closer to him as he stated in a voice dripping with pride, “This is my son, Stiles.”

Stiles smiled and let his manners, however little he had, take over. He met the calculating blue stare and stretched out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

The man’s smile turned into a smirk, “About time, don’t you think.”

Stiles stiffened as they shook hands as Derek’s words came back to him.

Shame we couldn’t have met sooner.

So, he guessed they really were related. Despite his stiff muscles he maintained eye contact. He wasn’t stupid; looking away or dropping you gaze was considered submissive behavior among born wolves. So, he stayed focused on those blue eyes. Stiles knew it was a fine line. Too fierce a gaze and the wolf might take it as a threat. Stiles prayed he was nowhere near that.

“Sorry about that, just been busy.” His voice was even and non-threatening.

He watched as something akin to slight admiration flashed in Peter’s gaze but it lasted barely a second before the wolf shut it down and released Stiles' hand.

Peter wrapped an arm around Melissa and Stiles noticed Scott and Derek had been watching the entire episode.

Great.

His dad shook hands with Derek and pulled Scott into a side hug. Scott who had a huge grin on his face grabbed Stiles and pulled him around to sit next to him.

As they sat down, Scott spoke in a hushed voice, “You made it!”

Stiles pulled an affronted look, “Are you saying you doubted me?”

Scott laughed easily, “Never, my man.”

Once they were all seated around the circular table a waiter appeared out of nowhere and everyone placed their drink order.

Stiles and his father ordered water after catching each other’s gaze, Scott ordered a soda as did Derek, but Melissa and Peter both ordered wine.

Once the waiter disappeared there was a moment of silence around the table.

No one moved.

‘ No one spoke.

Stiles shifted uncomfortably.

Well, this is awkward.

He glanced at his father who was solely focused on the menu and from the district pallor of his skin it wasn’t good.

Instead of looking at the menu, he would just order whatever his dad did, Stiles turned to Scott who was on his right, “So, did you read any of the reviews on the movie?”

Scott looked at him and shook his head, his hair swishing into his eyes, “No, but everybody at school seemed to like it.”

He was talking in a hushed voice which was so unlike Scott who was always so full of energy and prone to bouts of unexpected anxiety.

Stiles raised his brow at his friend and whispered back, “Why are you whispering?”

Scott blinked and whispered back, “I don’t know.”

Stiles laughed, “Then stop.”

Scott winced at the volume of Stiles' voice and looked around but seemed to relax when nobody paid attention to them.

“These places just remind me of, like, a museum or a library or something,” Scott spoke a little louder as he fiddled with his napkin.

Stiles scoffed, “Like you come to these places often.”

Scott looked up a hint of a smile playing on his face, “Actually I do.”

Stiles blinked, “What? Since when?”

“Peter has meetings in places like this all the time.” Scott shrugged under his tan suit jacket.

“And he brings you?”

Scott nodded, “Yep, lately he has. I think he wants me to start getting involved in his work since Derek refuses too.”

Stiles leaned closer, “Isn’t he some kind of defense lawyer.”

Scott sent a wry look his way, “Yeah, only like the best in the state.”

Stiles’ eyebrow rose. He had known this guy had been good but not that good.

Scott pulled the napkin off the plate and unfolded it laying it on his lap, “His work is pretty cool.”

Here we go.

Stiles sighed internally. Scott was always trying to make everyone happy which was an endearing trait up to a point but sometimes it became just annoying.

“Scott you hate arguing.”

Scott groaned lowly rubbing the back of his neck, “I Know!”

Stiles turned further towards his brother, resting his arm along the back of his chair and gesturing with it, “You work at a vet’s office tell him that’s what you want to do.”

“I tried.”

Stiles snorted, “You looked at him a said, ‘I Scott McCall am going to Veterinarian school’?”

His best friend actually blushed, “Well not exactly?”

Yep, that’s what he had thought.

Stiles looked back at his own napkin then back at the one resting on the teen wolf’s knee and grinned as an idea came to mind. Reaching up, grabbed his and quickly unfolded it before looking up at his friend.

“So, you have been coming to these incredibly overpriced places for a while now?”

Scott’s blush deepened and he quickly looked around before hissing out, “Yes!”

“Good, then you know how to fold these like a swan?”

“Yes?”

Stiles grinned mischievously, “Wanna have a race?”

It was Scott’s turn to look unbelieving, “You know how to fold thinks to look like swans?”

Stiles shrugged already laying his napkin out on his lap, “Eh, I got bored in class.”

Scott looked nervously at the adults who by now were conversing; paying them no attention at all. He seemed to relax a little and he nodded straightening his own napkin.

Stiles counted down in a hushed voice trying to draw the least amount of attention possible, “Three. Two. One. GO!”

Both of them started to fold, fingers moving and creasing the pressed napkins into triangles. Stiles finished first and raised his hands. They played again and again and again. Stiles was heartened to note that after each game Scott seemed to lighten up a little. In the end, the boys became so focused on their game that they didn’t see the waiter come up and start taking orders.

Melissa had to call them out, “Boys!”

In unison, the boys jumped and looked and smiled guiltily at her.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“Sorry, Momma McCall.”

Everybody at the table was looking at them but Melissa only smiled and shook her head before pointing to the waiter still waiting for their orders. The man was younger and nice looking all except his face which held a sour look as he gazed at the teenagers.

Scott leaned back in his chair answering looking semi-relaxed, “I’ll have the usual, Rick.”

Stiles gawked at him.

Did he just call the waiter by name?

And order the usual?

What was Scott's usual?

Probably nothing Stiles could afford. He glanced at his father suddenly feeling panicked. He had been so focused on playing with Scott that he had totally forgotten to listen to what his father had ordered. In addition, he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

Shit, Shit, Shit,

He tried to catch his father’s gaze but the old man was back to talking to Peter. The waiter, Rick, was looking expectant and slightly annoyed at Stiles; pen poised over the paper.

“Just give him my usual, Rick.”

Stiles swirled to face the man that had just ordered for him. Derek was leaning back in his chair totally commanding the space around him. He glanced back at Rick who had dropped the annoyed look and was scribbling away in his notebook before looking back at Derek with a much more pleasant look than the one he had given Stiles.

“Anything else, Mr. Hale?”

Derek shook his head and the waiter scuttled away.

Stiles gaped at the man, “What did you just order for me?”

He was starting to panic but to be honest Stiles thought he had the right to panic a little. Because come on! He might not know Derek a lot but he was pretty sure he wasn’t the salad eating kind of guy. Stiles prayed he didn’t order what he thought he did because if he did the Stilinski’s at the table were screwed.

Derek raised a dark bushy eyebrow, “Relax Stiles you’ll like it.”

“How do you know? Maybe I won’t?” It was official Stiles was panicking.

“Maybe you should call back the waiter. Rick, was that his name? Yeah, call back Rick and tell him to switch whatever you ordered me to a salad or something.”

Something that was decently priced.

Derek’s brow rose higher if that was even possible and he looked slightly amused if not unimpressed with Stiles suggestion.

“You could have ordered yourself if you weren’t so busy playing a game.”

Stiles didn’t squawk, really, he couldn’t in a place like this but what did come out sounded like a strangled squeak. Outraged the boy glanced at his friend for back up but Scott had joined the sheriff and Peter’s conversation.

Stiles turned back to glare at Derek, “Just tell me what you ordered,”

“No”

The man was infuriating, truly infuriating.

Stiles opened his mouth, ready to let the prick have it when those green eyes flashed red. It didn’t even last a second but it happened. All the spit in Stiles' mouth dried up as he held that gaze. Derek leaned forward mirroring Stiles pose from earlier. One elbow rested on the table and the other rested on the back of the chair.

His eyes which were back to green definitely held a predatory glint now, the Alpha coming out in full force. Stiles wanted to lean back but knew better than to move.

Derek’s face gave nothing away, “You see, Stiles, it goes both ways.”

The boy gulped and fisted his hands in the napkin on his lap, strangling the half-formed swan, “What?”

Derek smirked, “I’m not your alpha, so you don’t have to listen to me. That’s what you tell yourself right?”

Stiles’ hands fisted tighter and his eyes narrowed. “It’s true.”

Derek nodded but didn’t drop his smirk, “Well you’re not my beta that means I don’t have to listen to you,”

Stiles glared.

Derek smirked, his eyes glinting dangerously in the flickering candlelight.

There stare down was cut short by the ringing of a phone. The noise seemed overly loud in the quiet restaurant. It was like one of those ‘No Phone’ commercials they had at the theaters accept it was coming from his father.

Everybody was looking their way as the sheriff pulled out his phone. Stiles watched as his father’s face went from relaxed to professional in a second. Standing from the table John sent am apologetic look around, “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

Everybody nodded and Mr. Stilinski started to walk away already pressing the phone to his ear. Stiles reached out and took a gulp of water listening to the silence fill the air. This time it was Melissa that broke it.

She smiled at Stiles, “So, you’ll never guess who came into the emergency room last night.”

Stiles purposely turned his focus away from the alpha and smiled back. “Who?”

Mrs. McCall – stiles didn’t care if she remarried or not- picked up her wine glass and gestured at Stiles with it, “The Atkinson boy, Aron and he told me something.”

Stiles’ smile slipped ever so slightly. He knew Aron Atkinson, he came to Stiles study group.

“oh?”

Taking a sip of wine, Melissa swallowed before answering, “He told me he had been going to a tutoring session every Friday.”

Scott nodded, “He needed it to, he was failing three classes.”

Stiles blushed looking at the table, “Seems smart.” He agreed.

Melissa’s eyes twinkled, “He said you taught it.”

Scott jerked, “What?”

Stiles fidgeted under everybody’s gaze, “Yeah, I lead them.”

Scott was staring at him in shock, “You don’t lead tutoring classes.”

Stiles straightened his knife and fork, “Yeah, I do.”

Scott’s brows furrowed, “Since when?”

“A few months.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” Scott was starting to look angry.

Stiles tensed feeling defensive, “Well, there hasn’t been time.”

The young wolf threw his napkin on the table, “When is there ever the time for you?”

Stiles tensed more, “Oh yeah, well what about you?”

Scott frowned, “what about me?”

“I told you months ago I couldn’t pick you up in the mornings and you didn’t even ask why! Well, now you know why!”

Scott scoffed, “So this is my fault?”

The main reason behind this conversation had been lost. Suddenly it wasn’t about Stiles leading a study group. No, both the boys were beginning to feel the months’ worth of frustration and separation building between them. The solid foundation of their family beginning to crack under the strain.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,”

“Well, that’s what it sounds like!”

“All I’m saying is that we haven’t had time to talk!”

Their voices were rising, Peter looked around, “Boys?”

Neither one looked at him. Scott tensed further, “No, you haven’t made time! You always claim to be busy but you never are. You forget I know when your lying Stiles. I know all you do is sit at home.”

Stiles scoffed and looked around. “Really Scotty, I might just sit at home but at least I remember to include you. I don’t go off with whoever and do stuff without inviting you!”

Scott leaned forward, “I stopped inviting you because you never wanted to go.”

“Yeah Scott, sorry, I didn’t want to spend time with a bunch of people that I don’t know.”

“They are my pack, Stiles!” as he spoke his eyes flashed bright yellow as he started towards the human.

A lot happened in the seconds that followed.

Stiles stumbled back out of his chair.

Melissa stood up having been seated directly across from her son.

Peter was in front of Stiles blocking the teen wolf’s view of him.

Lastly, Derek was in front of Scott his hand behind his neck staring into his eyes and talking to him in a low voice. The Alpha red glowing.

Scott had almost wolfed out on Stiles. He had almost attacked him.

There my pack, Stiles!

It took less than a minute to calm Scott down but in that minute, Stiles realized something. He and his brother had grown further apart then he had thought. Stiles used to be part of Scott’s pack, used to belong. Now he was on the outside looking in. He felt a pain grow in his chest. A searing pain that only worsened, when Peter turned and said, “You should go.” He wasn’t being mean and his eyes were filled with pity. That almost made it worse.

Stiles nodded his gaze still on Scott. The wolf looked up and they locked eyes like they had done a hundred times in the past, but this time it was different. They both knew it. They both felt it. Distantly, Stiles could hear Peter explain away the incident as an asthma attack. Stiles said one last thing before he left, “I used to be too.”

The wolf flinched, not because Stiles was being cruel, but because he heard the truth in buddy’s voice and realized what he had said moments earlier.

Stiles turned around and grabbed his fathers coat off the back of the chair before striding towards the doors. He found his father right outside just hanging up his phone.

His father grinned at him, “Hey, coming out to check on your old m- “only he broke off before finishing, having got a clear view of his son’s face.

He stepped forward, suddenly all serious, “What happened?”

Stiles shook his head, “Can we go?” his voice was hoarse, scratchy.

Whatever the Sheriff saw in his son’s face was enough to get him moving.

“Yeah, here go to the car,” He reached into his jeans and pulled out the keys. “I’ll go pay really quick.”

Stiles nodded and grabbed the keys letting the cold metal ground him as he started to the car. The ten-minute walk seemed like an eternity but once he arrived he unlocked the car and slid into the seat. The lights from the nearby storefronts were casting glares out on the window. Stiles stared at the glares until the door next to him popped open and his father slumped in. He slammed his door closed and looked out the front windshield.

“You want to talk about it?”

Stiles shook his head.

John studied his son before starting the car and heading home. When he went back inside the place Melissa had looked at him and he had known whatever happened was bad. Scott wouldn’t meet his gaze and the whole family seemed tense. Peter had insisted on paying which John was glad for. His son needed him right now.

As they started home Stiles couldn’t help but think about the night. They had gone tonight to settle the rift between them. To bring the families back together but now it seemed they were farther apart. Stiles rested his head against the window. His father was right.

Tonight had been a long time coming.

#the boy who runs with wolves pt.4 #Sterek #enjoy

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sorrymomandcat · 5 years ago

Text

Wed. November 6 2019

12:21AM I need a new lighters

8:09AM

I woke up with that feeling.

Surprisingly not tired.

I might be after I cry.

Goodbye past.

4:33PM I'm starting this in my car on my anxious pressured 'break' at the ever busy Budapest. I'm gonna not. Brb.

4:55PM Okkkk, I’m going to be real with you.

I had a lot of clever ways to open this conversation but I have forgotten them since sitting in my Ferrari having not 1, but 2 smokes. You ever feel like you’re chewing on your own teeth? No? Good, that means you haven’t smoked meth for the past 255 days. To be clear- Cobain, Lampwick & The Joke are all synonyms for a former co-worker. Although the same person, they’re sort of not #mentalhealthawareness. TLDR; the more evolved part of me really hopes this guy is just a mean, jaded fucking asshole because the alternative is that they’re deeply psychotic and likely the permanent kind. Both leave little hope for improvement but the former at least KNOWS that. KNOWS I know. I could do a whole bullet-point slideshow fucking presentation on the red flags I had been seductively blindfolded to through exploitation of deepest nature and a stubborn unwillingness to accept pain and anger & I just might. I might. I might need to! I processed most of it as it was happening, denial was a bitch though. If you come from a place of; neglect, abuse and chaos but decided to assess your damages rather than project them on to innocent and typically pretty wonderful people.. then you need to equip yourself. Even if you took the more outward approach, leaving everyone in your path as empty useless collateral damage.. you could benefit as well. Tell yourself 'I’m only self-improving to gain further access and a tighter hold of my victims’ It doesn’t matter. Educate yourself on the impact of trauma/abuse/upbringing. See what happens to you. @ me.

5:53PM There’s a lot of Construction Boyz here tonight. They hit on me and I’m all like ‘omg I smoke crystal meth and I’m in an over-sized hoodie at work with obviously contrasting roots growing in.. you have no idea how much I needed this’ hahah. Still, it’s nothing quite like the validation I get from making humble jokes to myself in my neurotic head! Where was I? Oh yeah. The Joke; Lampdick. This motherfucker fucking pulls out a REAL LIFE meth pipe, Chief Leaf right there. Of course CL is through-n-through up to date and real time a best friend without judgement, so it doesn’t reflect on me, but I’ve been fighting tooth (lol) and nail against obvious (but not blatant) disapproval toward this endeavor with Joke.. (of course gaslit with remarks like ‘fuck the haters’ ‘you’re really going to care what they say’ ‘it isn’t their relationship’ .. you’re the hater.. they treat me with consistent respect so duh.. you’re absolutely fucking right-it’s ours-and it fucking sucks because you’re an abusive psychopath.. shove that isolation groundwork technique up your) ? No respect. To pull out a fucking meth pipe after:

Day 1 appreciating we had a different DOC (drug of choice) and agreeing that use needs to be controlled in the best harm reduction sense possible & I firmly disclosed that I am 100% in no fucking way ever going to be okay with anyone-ever smoking meth near/with me. I still barely forgive the fuckers that ever let me do it - and I know full God damn well it was my choice/fault/willing action. I barely forgave myself! For letting them let me! Or that I even let me let them do it! So. No. It was immediately made clear. Day 1.

Throughout this treachery The Joke made here-and-there comments about like “pass it this way” and “why don’t you save me any” and other repulsively ignorant and juvenile comments and my stance toward the matter remained firm. Which he always met with “yeah I know! I’m obviously joking! I agree! I would never do that to you” Like I was crazy for hardening my responses. Fucker, fucking fucker.

Seeing/hearing what I have vulnerably shared and experienced since the first day I made this choice (and I know not everyone who has/will make that choice is going to have MY experience. I’m not claiming that. I’m claiming ‘I don’t give a fuck what another person’s experience may be - I am not fucking here for it’ - ‘it’s a no from me dawg’

Knowing how desperately I am trying AND want AND try to want (some days it really do be like that) to stop smoking crystal. To end-all repair the damage it has done to myself, my relationships and my life. To prevent the inevitable damage that waits if I don’t.

Not to mention all the attempts at ‘crazy making’ by exploiting my guilt and fear of potential harm: caused by crystal meth. ie; “you’re definitely sleep-stealing my keys and/or moving things because YOU’RE smoking crystal meth, and that shit is BAD bad + your traumatic childhood,’ (that he doesn’t give a fuck about unless using it against me in similar scenarios) ‘so come on. You can’t deny engaging in these behaviors, that I refuse tell you about. You meth-trauma black events out.. you’re not conscious of it because of YOUR big bad drug.” (which it is and I don’t intend to downplay it)

Seriously. These are real events & that’s just scratching the fucking surface. Note: this blog intentionally has NO followers and is ran anonymously. My intention is only to self-vindicate the man made madness I've enabled. Yet STILL it manages to drag into a month and a half of my God damn precious and OBVIOUSLY seriously fucking sensitive time. I feel NO shame for that; for struggling right now. For falling the fuck on my ass/face/faceassfuckhands onto a SERIOUSLY cemented floor! that manages to also be falling upwards into my fucking face! So instead of ceasing upon impact; continuously bashing my fucking FACE in. It fucking happens man. I fucking know that and I fucking own it as shamelessly as is safe to. Not as a way to justify where I am right now - but to foster a belief that I am worth the insidiously meticulous effort that's required to be better. In a better position to improve the quality of how I serve myself and thus actually beginning to serve those around me. Jesus shit what a Joke. I can’t believe I let myself: be treated this way, be ignorant to it, be willing to entertain the idea that maybe it was OK (even warranted).. but between you and me: I find it even harder to believe that another human being - one who has clearly been deeply wounded as well - can see the genuine sincerity of another human being’s soul and heart.. compulsively bleeding from a profundity raw enough to captivate a nihilist.. and humbly exposes it.. with nothing but purity in the regard of inherit human good.. and could intentionally stick their dirty fucking arms vigorously inside and tear at the exposed gauge made faithfully available. I’m not innocent here. But there’s no blood on my hands. I won’t point my fingers but my eyes are staring right at you. I know what you did to me. I did not agree to it. I agreed to taking the risk. Do you know what you did to me? Educate yourself. Wash your fucking hands.

I didn’t bring any crystal to Budapest today. I didn’t know I was going to begin opening this, or I would have.

= I’ve got to go for a smokes.

That’s enough for now.

7:55PM I don’t know wtf but Doug offered me to get stoned and so I did outside but the guys who needed to switch rooms came back and then outside too because they insisted on my break.. Golf was looking for tape and offered me a Tim Horton’s, I said hot chocolate. Then Striped Vest guy also forever chatted and offered me a Tim Horton’s; I said hot chocolate. Still no tape and I tell him about Striped Vest and hot chocolate. He says ok. Meanwhile, Doug and his friend Chevy Lover are shooting the shit too and Doug asked for my number. Well first he asked if I was single. He asked if I was dating anybody LOL first of all I’m stoned and second of all the literal words out of my mouth were ‘everybody’ sincerely believing it as a reflection of my innocent love for life and immediately realizing that was a stupid answer so on reflex I said “no, myself. ha ha no. nobody. nope. that’s a. this guy who was my boyfriend died once. like a long time ago. no. weird. yeah it was wicked. wait what? why? but no. I don’t. not.” and I’ll never forget that or this hot chocolate.

8:03PM Golf asked me to put his poppy on (dude you’re 51, you’ve definitely done this more than me and I HATE war) so I asked him like, when the war was and what it was called - “Oh no, I don’t know a lot about history” meanwhile a second ago he was like “I guess I should put one on because my Grandpa fought in the war” no that was you. anyways so I’m learning about WW1. You say you remember so much, name 5 of our veterans? #therealneverforget

Disclaimer: I still haven’t read anything about it, I’m sorry to all relatives of dead soldiers I deeply condolence and RIP. No disrespect. We out here.

8:07PM Damn I really wish I had another hot chocolate.

8:39PM How is it not midnight?

#fuckyou #inhumane #livingtumbstonefeels #enemiesnotfriendsintokyovibe

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oneoclockfox · 8 years ago

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The Hanging Tree - Ben Aaronovitch

★★★★✰

Overall, 4.5/5 stars. A satisfying entry in the series and worth the wait. Semi-organized thoughts, squeeing & mild spoilers below the cut.

Okay so CLEARLY the most important thing that happened in this book was that NIGHTINGALE ~SUPER CASUALLY~ GOT PETER A FERRARI AND THEY FISTBUMPED ABOUT IT. AND NOT JUST ANY FERRARI, OH NO, IT HAD TO BE THE FUCKING FACELESS MAN’S FERRARI, LIKE IT WAS A GODDAMN DEAD MOUSE YOU DRAGGED HOME AND LEFT ON THE DOORSTEP, THOMAS YOU HAVE NO CHILL AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH 😂😂😂

so that was cool and didn’t make me want to die at all!!! okay okay no, I do also have thoughts that aren’t being drowned out by my pained wheezing

Plot developments: For being such a busy and engaging read, not very much actually happens in this book with the arc plot of the Faceless Man and Lesley. They discover his real name and identity, but don’t apprehend either of them; however, I feel like the FM’s time as the primary villain is coming to a close, and strongly suspect that thereafter Lesley +/- Punch will be the actual Big Bad. Probably the most interesting development here is all the hinting about Punch’s presence becoming stronger and his continued association with Lesley. (I don’t believe for one second that ‘Patricia Polly,’ who didn’t need to be a named character at all, is anyone but Punch’s ‘Pretty Pol,’ that is, Lesley herself.) I missed the domestic moments in the Folly and learning magic from books 1-4, which were absent here.

Character developments: Peter remains delightful and his Crowning Moment of Awesome for this book (leaping to the defense of Nightingale and the Folly using his mastery of bureaucratese) was hilarious, adorable and totally in-character. Nightingale also remains delightful, and noticeably more cheerful than in previous books, although of course Peter immediately brings up the horrific tragedies of Nightingale’s life in order to disguise to the reader that a damn smile is crushing his heart. (don’t worry Peter it crushed mine too) Also, ONCE AGAIN Nightingale kicking ass happens deliberately offscreen. It’s been like four years since we got those three pages in Broken Homes! Wailing and rending my garments, BA is a monster and life an endless torment, etc. etc.

Aside: Is Nightingale looking younger to Peter when he smiles a hint that he’s getting physically younger, like Tyburn described herself doing? I would really, really like some clarification on what’s causing his immortality/de-aging, and what exactly happened on August Bank Holiday 1966. The only things I want more from the canon of these books are things I’m definitely not going to get (i.e. Lesley gets a redemption arc, Peter acknowledges that he has a massive crush on his boss.)

Secondary character developments: Unfortunately we get like 0 Molly, Toby and Dr. Walid. Stephanopolous and Seawoll remain delightful, as does Seawoll and Nightingale’s mutual loathing. This appears to be slowly changing to grudging respect, because Peter is a human ray of sunshine who cannot help but ~bring all relevant stakeholders together.~ New character Jennifer Vaughan gets like three lines, all of them delightful. I cannot wait to hear Kobna Holdbrook-Smith render an accent so Welsh it makes everything sound sarcastic. Sahra Guleed gets some more backstory and heroic moments too, which is nice, although I haven’t forgotten the sexist little “Modest and practical” comment Aaronovitch put in her mouth. We’ll see how long her Folly liaison/Peter sidekick role lasts. I’m pretty cynical, given how each sidekick so far has only lasted one book in a major role - it seems kind of like a Doctor’s Companion(s) situation.

Beverly remains an underdeveloped, ethically challenged, and frankly uninteresting Designated Love Interest. By contrast, Tyburn gets more developed and remains both ethically challenged and interesting, though more human and less terrifying than before. The fact that Peter clearly wants to have kids, like, yesterday, plus the conversation with Tyburn about the pitfalls of asymmetrical immortality, gives me hope that Aaronovitch will finally fire the Chekhov’s gun from Book 1 about “never sleep with anyone more magical than you” and Peter and Beverly will break up.

As for the other two new secondary and likely-recurring characters... the less said the better. I am seriously so fucking sick of powerful women in urban fantasy all being morally ambiguous to outright evil. This is a generalized problem, not Aaronovitch’s fault specifically, but he’s sure not helping, and thinking about it just makes me angry about the Lesley mess all over again. God, Lesley May deserved so much better than her narrative arc.

Miscellaneous developments: I loved that we got to see that someone is looking out for the Quiet People, even though Tyburn is funding it, which bodes ill. I did not love the reveals about other magical traditions, because while of course they had to exist and it makes sense that they do, Nightingale’s total ignorance of them becomes even more baffling and illogical, to the point of being a failure of worldbuilding. I loved that Reynolds shows up again but am not looking forward to poor Kobna Holdbrook-Smith attempting to portray her accent once more. I did not love the pointless American military-contractor wizards (?!?! Do not tell me that America doesn’t have a spectacularly over-funded and under-regulated secret magic branch of the actual military, because I won’t believe you.)

Peter’s ongoing cynical asides about race are a thing of beauty and a joy forever, although the oblique Ferguson reference that was so effective today is going to be dated to the point of incomprehensible in less than ten years. Two weirdly heavy-handed racist tirades (Pryce and Chorley) place this book squarely in the sociopolitical currents of 2016 and the time-honored Author Has No Fucks Left To Give school of I Got Your ‘Too Political’ Right Here.

In conclusion, mixed feelings that are mostly love, and also WHERE IS ABIGAIL.

#rivers of london #ben aaronovitch #the hanging tree #peter grant #thomas nightingale #books #book reviews

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