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reidgraygubler · 3 years ago

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Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

“Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

not able to tag: @isabellasimps

@thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @kuolonsyoja

@broken-stardust @beepbooptoop @ray-lia

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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The Doctor Is Out

Stephen Strange x reader

warnings:

a/n: wrote this a while ago and its been sitting in my drafts. part 1/2

prompt:

In (2)

Without opening your eyes, you stretched your stiffened body against the silk sheets and rolled over to face your husband.

“Good morning, dear.” You whispered through a yawn, which led into a smile. Stephen was already awake and reading one of the many books he kept at his bedside.

“And good morning to you, too.” He leaned over and gave you a kiss on the temple, letting your eyes flutter open. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’d say so.” You reluctantly sat up on your side of the bed, pushing the covers away. “Any plans for today?”

“Not in particular.” Stephen decided to get out of bed with you and get ready for the day, although he was in a gray jacket and blue jeans in the blink of an eye. “We don’t have very much to eat, I might go run out for lunch.”

“Lunch?” You asked as you pulled on a pair of pants.

“Yes, well, you seem to have gotten a late start on the day.” Your husband explained. “I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so content with your dreams.” You took Stephen’s wrist to take a look at the time.

“It’s half past eleven?” You stared in shock at your husband’s watch. “You just waited for me?” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Stephen rarely ever let himself lag behind, it was truly sweet of him to keep you company while you drifted through the peace of your head, thoughts you’d already forgotten. “It seems the odds were in our favor when our paths first crossed, huh?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, my dear.” Stephen’s barely shaking hands cupped your face and right before he leaned in for a refreshing kiss to the lips, he whispered, “I’m not as great a man as you make me out to be.”

You hummed into the kiss he gave you and pulled back just a tad. “Oh, you’re right. You’re just the worst.” Sarcasm failed to escape you in moments like these, it was more entertaining than anything else in the eyes of your husband. “Now, I’m starving. Want to go to the deli around the block?”

“That’ll work. We should ask Wong if he’s hungry, too.”

—————

“You don’t have any money?” Stephen asked as the three of you walked through the Sanctum in a fixed line.

“Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual.” Wong’s wise words rung in your mind as you tried to figure out what he did before the two of you had moved in with him.

“I’ll tell the guys at the deli.” Stephen snarked. “Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham on rye.”

“It’s fine, we’ll pay for your lunch.” You interjected after hearing enough of that. Somehow, the trip down the stairs was unsuccessful since your steps from only a few seconds ago were nothing but rubble. You fell to the floor as Stephen and Wong took defensive positions.

“Thanos is coming.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as you lay on the cold floor. Were you able to get up on your own? Probably, but that fall would definitely leave a mark. After a moment’s time of your lonely visit with the floor, your partner rushed over to you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” He crouched beside you and helped you back up, lightly brushing your cheek as he checked for any injuries.

“I think I’m okay.” You nodded. “Hit my head on the way down.” Peering over his shoulder while he checked your head for any bumps, you saw Dr. Bruce Banner crawl from the rubble. “Do I have a concussion or was it a gamma scientist that just crashed into the Sanctum?”

“Hi, I’m Doctor—” He waved just before you cut him off.

“I know who you are, Doctor Banner.” You replied with a smirk. “I’m Dr. L/N-Strange, specializing in neuroscience, but formerly gamma research.” Stephen smiled himself when he heard you say your name and just a little more when you described your profession. Maybe he was just proud to be near someone so accomplished.

“I don’t think you have a concussion.” A kiss on your forehead was the best medicine he could give, but you knew that it also meant he needed to get to work.

“‘Formerly gamma?’ Why’s that?” Bruce asked, somehow ignoring the big picture here. I mean, you were just happy to get some visitors, I suppose. You’d answer anything.

“For a while, they went hand-in-hand for me. You’d be surprised at what could be accomplished when you put them together...” You explained, Stephen patiently listening beside you.

“But?” Bruce pried a little more.

“But then I heard about your little ‘accident,’ decided to take a break just in case. Refocus my research.” You felt your partner’s hand rest on your shoulder and slide down your arm as you watched Dr. Banner’s guilty expression surface. It wasn’t your intention to offend, you were just obliging to his curiosity.

“As much as I love hearing you talk about your career, darling,” Stephen finally stepped in, “I think we need to talk about the threat to our planet?”

“I was wondering when you’d stop me.” You chuckled. “That’s alright, I’ll just go pick up lunch for you three. Dr. Banner, do you like sandwiches?”

“I...yes? I guess so. Turkey and swiss is...I haven’t had that in a while.” He stammered, leaving you to peer over at your husband and have him give you a near-identical look. Sometimes, the two of you just thought that same exact things, no words needed.

“Will you two stop doing that weird thing where you stare at each other in silence? We have work to do!” Wong interrupted and you decided it was about time to head out.

“Love you, Stephen.” You said with an amused shake of your head, giving him a quick peck in the lips.

“Love you, too. Don’t be too long if you can help it, Dr. Banner seems to have a pretty good idea of dangers to come.” He told you as his cloak gave you a quick pat on the arm. You didn’t know whether to say goodbye to his outerwear, as well.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You winked and pat the red cloak back, heading for the door that your bag was hung beside. Now was the time for a walk to clear your mind, no “Thanos” or whatever the hell that was. Just the music to your ears that was Bleeker Street traffic and insufferable pedestrians. You just kept your eyes front and went on walking, you’d walk straight through crowds if you had to.

A few block’s worth of steps and you’d reached the deli that was so dear to your husband, now it was time to wait in line, a pretty long one, nonetheless. Maybe it was time to shoot Stephen a text.

Just made it to the deli ;) Anything I should be worried about out here?

Tony Stark is here. Outlook not so good.

Did you just magic 8-ball me?

“Dude, are you texting right now?” Tony asked in disbelief of the wizard looking down at his phone. It wasn’t very typical of him to check it in times like these, but you had a specific ringtone. Once he hears that ringtone, he replies. No matter what.

“I always answer my s/o.” He cleared his throat and stashed his phone away.

“At least we have something in common.”

—————

The line at the deli took so long that you got caught in the crossfire of an alien attack. Was it unbelievably amazing? Of course. Was it one of the most terrifying days of your life? You bet.

You could no longer get ahold of your husband and you soon knew why when he flew overhead in an attempt of offense. You’re guessing that these people were looking for the Time Stone.

Desperately hoping for one of your wizard “pals” to come and save you, maybe have you fall through a portal and back into Sanctum, you just hid in an alley. This may be one of the lows in your life, but you’d see worse days soon enough.

And the invasion was over just like that. You, like many other New Yorkers, stepped from the crevices of the streets to witness the damage firsthand.

“Uh, Dr. L/N!” That same voice from earlier spoke, causing you to swivel your head and see Bruce waving you down. Since he was the first person you recognized out here, it’d be best for you to head his way. It was a maze of cars, bricks, and broken glass before you’d made it over to him.

“Where’s Stephen? Or Wong? Tony Stark?” You bombarded him as if he weren’t stressed enough, but scientists always wanted answers. He knew that from experience.

“The aliens have your husband.” A line you never thought you’d have to hear. This better be a sick dream. “Wong said he was going back to the ‘Sanctum’ to protect it, and Tony is also with the aliens.”

“At least my husband has backup.” You sighed with a slight hint of relief, but your stomach was still turning just thinking about what they might do to Stephen. If they wanted that Stone, they’d do whatever they could to get it. Stephen was as smart as he was stubborn, it’d take a lot to get him to hand it over.

“Are you going back home?” He asked as he snagged a phone from the rubble.

“I figure you have a plan, I’m coming with you.” You watched him freeze for a moment with a name on the phone highlighted. “Trying to reassemble the Avengers, huh?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s going to be dangerous.” Way to state the obvious. You didn’t know if you could handle it, but...

“I have to get my husband back, I can’t just wait around.” You wouldn’t back down, but it was a little comforting to have someone backing him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to put myself to good use.”

—————

It has been...twenty days since the disappearance of several Earth-based heroes. Among them was Spider-Man, Tony Stark, and your husband. But today was the day you’d know the truth.

Half the population had vanished into thin air. It was hard to tell if anyone had survived the trip to space. You’d been staring out the window all day, just trying to spot the cosmic wonder that was “Captain Marvel.” If anyone could find them, it was her.

Just as you were about to nod off, a bright glare intruded in the sky.

“Guy? Guys! She’s back!” Everyone had been on edge today, so they were ready to dash outside. Your heart was beating out of your chest, this was the moment of truth.

Carol landed a beat-up spaceship onto the open field and out stumbled Tony Stark and what looked to be an alien. You stared at the ship’s door, waiting for one more person. Just one more.

Everyone was staring at you now, waiting for you to realize that your husband wasn’t in there. Once Tony caught sight of you, he pieced together who you were.

“You must be the wizard’s s/o?” He leaned against his fiancée and Captain America, struggling to look you in the eye. “He wanted me to give you a message. Uh...sorry, I’m going blank, rough ride.” He rubbed his forehead as you stood there in tears. “‘This will make sense later.’ Oh, and he loves you.”

“I...” Everyone was still looking at you with pity in their eyes. Yes, they all lost people, but you were still clinging onto hope. All of your optimism had been destroyed in these past few moments, you didn’t even know how you were supposed to take this. “I need a minute. I’m sorry.” You stormed off into the guest bedroom of Avengers HQ, leaving everyone around you worried. You didn’t know them long, but it was easy to bond through a trauma like this.

“Y/N?” Bruce knocked on the door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” You reluctantly answered and Bruce let himself in.

“I brought you carrots.” He offered the bowl. “It was all we had in the fridge, sorry.”

“We have to find Thanos.” You grumbled though tears. “I won’t give up until we fix what he did.” Bruce stayed silent out of fear, he knew what could happen to someone in mourning. People can get...crazy.

“We’ll do the best we can. We’re working on it.” Bruce explained as he set the food down on your end table.

“Take me with you. I have to be there this time.” You were in no way qualified to face an intergalactic being capable of that much destruction.

“Y/N, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He shyly countered you, using this calm tone was an exercise he learned during “anger management,” maybe it could help.

“I wasn’t asking.”

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#stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange imagine #dr strange #bruce banner imagine #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner #hulk #hulk x reader #hulk imagine #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

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thehmn · 1 year ago

Text

Sorry about the wall of text. This isn’t some long attack on you. Your response/tags just made me want to flesh out my thoughts a bit more.

When I wrote this I was thinking about annoying but largely insignificant things that people don’t usually understand before it happenes to them even if they’ve been told the consequences.

For example, I used to have a housemate who had a cat. She kept leaving things like deli meat on the kitchen table, then leaving the room. Every time I saw it I’d put the food in the fridge and tell her to be more careful or her cat would jump on the table and eat it. She kept saying “Oh! Of course! Thanks for looking out for me!” but then she’d do it again. Eventually she did it while I was out and when I came back she was extremely upset because her cat had started eating a frozen chicken she had left to defrost. She never did it again.

Even though she knew what would happen the consequences were just this sorta abstract thing that would be annoying but not world ending. Only experience could teach her that it can kinda ruin the rest of your day if you can’t have the chicken you were looking forward to because your cat is gonna cat.

That’s the sort of situation I was thinking about at the time. There are a lot of situations where it would be immoral and at times illegal to not tell people what to do, and other situations where you should tell people what to do because they’re unlike to work out the problem on their own.

Like, if someone is having trouble making friends they might think they have to carefully curate their appearance to be desirable company or just be themselves and eventually someone who appreciates them for who they are will magically appear, while someone who is more socially and emotionally intelligent can tell you neither will do you any good if you don’t show an interest in other people. Basically, you will make more friends by showing interest in others than by trying to make yourself interesting and if they’re worth your time they will show interest in you in return. I, being a weird ADHD kid who couldn’t focus on anything least of all people I didn’t already know, didn’t get that and I would definitely have preferred if someone told me.

But on the other hand, telling people what to do regarding health can actually make the situation worse. We all know we shouldn’t smoke and that we should eat vegetables once in a while, but if people keep telling us what to do the natural response is to get defensive, even making it part of our personality. “I’m the sort of person who smoke/doesn’t eat rabbit food” In those situations the best thing one can do is maybe mention that you had a family member who stopped smoking or lead by example by using veggies in your cooking. There’s a good chance they’ll start feeling the effects of smoking/eating unhealthy as they get older and want to do something about it and then they might remember you and ask for advice. I used to actively avoid salads because my mom told me to eat it. I only started eating them when I got older because a friend of mine bought on for a picnic and I realized that a proper salad is both tasty and filling and I felt a lot better afterwards than if I had eaten a sandwich with white bread. I knew salads could be good but I could only come to that conclusion by lived experience in a natural relaxed setting.

Because that’s another thing you learn as you get older. Sometimes you just isn’t the right person to teach that lesson. You might be their best friend and you might be right but they won’t take the advice to heart unless it comes from their therapist or someone who shares their workplace or sexuality or skin color. I have a friend who I’d tell my observations about them to to try and help them out but they always told me I got it all wrong and that wasn’t the problem. In every case they’d come back a year or two later and tell me that, yeah, that was indeed the problem. They just had to hear it from someone they trusted more on the matter.

So I’d agree, if you feel it’s appropriate give people advice once, mayyybeee twice, but after that let them figure it out on their own. My grandmother taught me that when she said “I wouldn’t have married your grandfather if my mother hadn’t constantly told me he was no good and that I should dump him. I got stubborn” but ironically I didn’t get it because I hadn’t seen it in action yet.

When you have a significantly younger friend:

“Why is she still doing that? If she keeps it up I’ll have to tell her to stop! Doesn’t she know- No wait, she doesn’t. She hasn’t been through that yet”

A year later

“There it is. I didn’t see it happen but she stopped”

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 4 years ago

Text

the shrooms cafe

part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba

hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!

this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)

shrooms cafe masterlist

my masterlist

warnings: none

word count: 2k

"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.

"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft

music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.

-----

After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.

-----

“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”

She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"

"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.

She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.

----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harrystylesxyou #harry styles x you fanfiction #harrystylesxreader #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry fanfiction #the shrooms cafe

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peralta-guaranteed · 4 years ago

Note

What abkut mafia!jake au

Stop giving me awesome AU ideas that I cannot write the fic for! 😭

- due to some really, really bad choices after high school (did he ever make other ones? who knows), Jake Peralta has ended up as a grunt for the Ianucci family. He doesn’t really do much - he’s mostly someone who gathers information and new areas for them to work in, because he’s good at randomly befriending people and milking them for all it’s worth. He’s done a few ‘deliveries’, too, but has never had to really get physical.

- (he was at one family meeting that turned into the ‘farewell’ of a mistrusted member and he still has nightmares about it)

- he’s never been arrested for anything and thought the police didn’t even know his name, so imagine his surprise when he’s approached by one of their higher-ups (as if he knows the rankings, psh, pigs are all the same) and subtly but definitely asked if he would be willing to work with them

- his task seems simple: bring one of their cops into the family undercover, the same way he has ��recruited’ several bodega owners and other ‘low-skill’ workers that turned out to be useful for the family. Maybe keep an eye on the cop as well and help her out if she’s struggling

- she? oh yeah, it’s a woman. A frankly gorgeous woman, he realises when they meet up with her and some FBI dude who obviously pretends he’s not FBI, to discuss it all further. Her name is ‘Dora’, and he knows that’s a lie from the second she’s introduced, but the less he knows, probably the better. The rules are set, he gets a special cellphone number of a ‘cousin’ to contact if something goes wrong, and two weeks later Dora Perez is steadily working her way up the ranks with the Ianuccis, who are very proud of Jake for bringing in this brilliant new talent.

- He might or might not be looking out for her a little bit too much. He might or might not get involved in far more shady dealings with the Iannuccis so he can work closer with her. He might or might not be in deep, deep shit.

- ‘Dora’ is grateful for it, though, he learns every time he drives her home after a more difficult job. She used to be withdrawn and quiet with him, which he tried to equalise by cracking more and more stupid jokes and doing random silly stuff during their drives, but then one time they drive in absolute silence while she cleans blood of her hands, and he says something, he doesn’t remember what, but it’s the right thing apparently, because she starts to talk. She talks to him during every ride after, telling him about the stress and the constant guard she has to keep up and how none of her research binders prepared her for this, and at some point she tells him about nightmares and seeing death around every corner and she can’t wait for this mission to be over.

- (for her sake, he can’t wait for that either. For his sake, he wishes it would go on forever.)

- They’re sent out for a big job together once, because Jake has already become ‘connected’ to Amy in the Ianuccis’ eyes, and they both end up with blood on their hands, and some of it is hers.

- he gets out of the car after that drive home, and gets up to her tiny, fake apartment, and helps her clean the wounds (nothing too big, just cuts, because thank god that guy only had a knife before he beat it out of his hands and then beat the living daylight out of him after he injured her) with the softest fingers she’s ever felt. Then the cleaning alcohol is swapped for drinkable stuff, and they talk, and they talk about everything and nothing, about how a dead-beat dad and an absent mother make a Mafia goon, and how family pressure and a sense of constant duty make a detective who so badly wanted to say no to this assignment but couldn’t.

- “For what it’s worth, Dora, I’m glad you said yes. I mean, not that- not that I want you to do this kind of work- and I want things to be over for you soon, because- but- I’m glad it’s you.” “Amy.” “Hm?” “My name is Amy. Amy Santiago.”

- He wakes up in her bed the next morning, with her in his arms, and he kind of doesn’t regret a single thing, even as his smart-brain is screaming at him. He’s pretty sure he would’ve willingly died for her even before this night, but now, he realises... that he probably will.

- Amy (Amy, not Dora) does freak out a little more than he does when she wakes up. She can’t get involved, she says, this is a job, a dangerous one, and she has to focus on that job and getting the mafia gang and not- okay, okay, let’s not overthink this then, Jake says only to calm her down, we don’t do anything ‘involved’, we’re just... having fun. Keeping things light and breezy. Helping deal with the stress.

- and so, despite how much it hurts and how much it makes him happy at the same time, Jakey the Jew becomes Jakey, Dora’s Loverboy. It helps, he supposes, because it means the Ianuccis won’t suspect them hanging out so much, and send him along to most of her jobs now so he can watch out for her, and he gets to be with her in a way, even as she constantly reiterates ‘light and breezy’ to keep him at a distance no matter how close they get.

- it doesn’t feel very ‘light and breezy’ when they spend time together in front of the TV, though, to get their minds to relax after doing whatever the Ianuccis needed them doing. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ when they joke around in the bodega getting ice cream on a particularly hot day out doing jobs, or when she shows him around the library after meeting her ‘cousin’ there for a chat. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ at all when she sighs into his arms when he’s holding her in bed, neither of them even wanting to take the night any further than soft hands under tshirts, because all they really need at some point is the comfort of each other.

- and then one day, after a few months of this ‘light and breezy’ and ‘Dora’s Loverboy’, Jake gets invited for a ‘Talk’ by the family. With a capital T. And he’s not been that high up in the ranks at any point, and he’s not really done much for the family, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. So of course he doesn’t tell Amy, writes her a short but succinct note instead that maybe ends with the L-word somewhere in it, and goes to have a Talk.

- The Ianuccis know that there is a rat, but they don’t know who. And they know that if Jakey is good for one thing, it’s information. So The Talk doesn’t end as quickly as it usually does, and the way he’d expected. It hurts a lot more, for one thing. Jake thinks of offering up some other goon or lower family member as the rat, if only to make the torture stop, but his brain is too broken in the moment to figure out a convincing story. And when the name ‘Perez’ suddenly drops into the conversation, there’s really only one other name he can still think of clearly to blame. Peralta.

- he doesn’t remember much after that - he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots, but none of them hit him, so what’s the deal with that? Everything else is pretty much a blur of pain and cold, and lots of shouting, and then warm soft hands on his face and a quiet voice saying his name amidst it all, and when he wakes up the next time he’s in a hospital bed.

- He’s in that hospital bed for two weeks to recover, and no one visits him. Not that it should be surprising - Nana is dead, his mom doesn’t know about anything he’s done since the age of 18 for a reason, and there’s no one else who in their right mind should care to visit him. So imagine his surprise when a detective shows up, introduces herself as Rosa Diaz, and explains that she’s Amy’s partner at work, but she’s not here for official business.

- “She wanted to come see you. Hell, she fought tooth and nail for it. But she had to be debriefed, stupid FBI assholes, and then it turned out two of the Ianuccis got away, so we had to find them first to make sure they don’t go after her for revenge” (well that explains the constant patrols in the hospital for him, as well) “and we had to hide her for her safety, but, Jake, she wanted to come see you. I swear.” “It’s okay.” Jake says, and it’s really not, but he’s been a brilliant liar for years now. “You can tell her... it’s okay. The job is done, and I’m, I’m glad she’s finally got it over and past her. Really. Tell her it’s okay.”

- He’s debriefed by the FBI after he gets discharged, as well. They tell him ‘good job’ and ‘thanks’ and pay him a surprisingly large amount of money and cover his hospital bills, so that’s good. They also advise that he move, not far, but far enough that any possible leftover scragglers of the family don’t remember his old place for a ‘visit’. So he moves, a few blocks only, enough to get a new favourite bodega and deli and discover that the library is actually nearby and that there’s this community college that Amy kept talking about for some reason, and if he takes a few classes to finally get a degree, it’s not about getting a proper job at some point, it’s more about not thinking about anything else. About maybe forgetting, even if it was her that basically got him where he is now.

- (it does not work)

- she knocks on his door a month later. She looks strange in her professional outfit instead of washed out jeans and a tanktop with a stupid slogan on it, but also so perfectly her. That’s Amy, he thinks, not Dora anymore. That’s Amy, and he still loves her just as much as he did when she was ‘Dora’ in his sweatpants and tshirt. Maybe more.

- “You’re a hard man to find, Peralta.” She says, and he knows that’s a lie, but she smiles with a scared look through it and he takes it for what it is - an attempt at saying anything, really, after 1 1/2 months of silence, when she’s probably got a speech all prepared in her head but needs to get there first. “That’s such a bad, cheesy movie line.” He helps, and she laughs and yeah, that’s all he needs in life. “Well we never watched any good movies, did we.” “Hey, we watched Die Hard. That’s the best movie there is.” She rolls her eyes but nods, and opens her mouth, and Jake thinks that the speech is coming now, but he has no idea what it might entail. Thank you and good bye, maybe. Good job, great work, can you sign this official statement for me so I can add it to my paperwork? possibly. “Screw light and breezy.” She says instead, and then she’s in his new apartment, which is much nicer and cleaner than the old place was even after she worked her magic on it, and she’s kissing him, and he’s never, ever letting her out.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #headcanon? writing? I dunno anymore #Mafia AU

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fuchsiagrasshopper · 4 years ago

Text

The Olive Branch

Author's note: Here is a modern AU one-shot I wrote for @maggiescarborough 400 follower challenge. My prompt was breaking up. Congratulations hun and thanks for letting me take part! It was something completely different for me to write and I hope everyone enjoys!

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Fem:reader

Word count: 3400

Warnings: Angst, language

Your relationship with Ivar had run its course. You had known it was over the moment you overheard him talking about you in his office to his brother. What had begun as a sweet gesture to surprise your boyfriend for lunch had ended with you sneaking back out the building before he could find out you had been there. You still didn't remember most of that escape, as you had been too busy forcing yourself not to cry or scream from hurt.

It was a Tuesday, and you were fortunate enough to have a day off from work. You decided to be spontaneous, picking up soup from your favorite deli to surprise Ivar with for lunch. His job didn't always allow him the time or luxury to stop to eat, but today you would make sure he was looked after.

You and Ivar had been seeing each other for nearly six months, and you felt that in that stretch of time you had made it past any difficult hurdles that could turn a relationship sour. It wasn't perfect, but little arguments and disagreements had to be weathered in any relationship, and you got to a point where you were both comfortable with each other's faults and tendencies. When you had met one another's families without hassle, you figured that was as good a sign as any that this was something special.

You didn't go to his place of work often, but you knew your way around well enough to find his office. He worked for his family's exporting company, a numbers game that consisted of suits and ties, and corporate gatherings. Ivar had once described them to you as ass-kissing at the highest level, and after attending a few black-tie affairs by his side you understood his point.

You made your way down the brightly lit corridor that was all freshly polished floors and heavy oak doors with gold inlaid nameplates. The designer of the office had spared no expense on the finishes, and you felt underdressed compared to the expensive attire of the workers.

As you rounded the corner to Ivar's office you could see his door was ajar. He was speaking with someone, and as you neared you recognized Ubbe's voice. It didn't sound like work talk, it sounded more like Ubbe was discussing his family. You were about to walk in to interrupt when your name was suddenly brought up.

"So, how are things going with (Y/N)?" Ubbe asked.

There was a long pause before Ivar answered, and that filled you with dread. "Okay, I guess."

"You guess? I thought things were going great."

You understood Ubbe's point. You thought things were working out well between you two.

"I don't know. Recently I've been feeling that it's run its course between us. I don't think there's a future there."

Your heart was in your throat, and you thought you were going to be sick. Ivar could be distant, but you had no idea he was at the end of his rope when it came to your relationship.

"Really? Ubbe sounded as confused as you felt. "What brought this on?"

"It's whenever we do something in a social setting. She's not a bad girlfriend, but she's too shy for any of my work functions, and she isn't spontaneous enough."

"Right, as opposed to Freydis?" You heard the crunch of leather as Ubbe took a seat. "You're still hung up on her."

"I can't help it," Ivar shot back. "She was perfect for me. She fit in with my lifestyle. (Y/N)'s a good person, but she's too simple. I'm...bored when I'm with her."

A good person. Those were the only kind words he had to say about you, after dating for months. You knew about his relationship with Freydis in little detail, and only that they had broken up because she moved away for work. Maybe he should have gone with her. You were feeling bitter and used, and you couldn't listen to any more of the disparagement. You even felt guilty about eavesdropping, but you wondered how much longer he planned on keeping this from you if he was so miserable.

Your feet started in the opposite direction, reaching the elevator with your head down and the lunch you had brought hanging loosely in your grasp. Your breathing had turned labored in your attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you kept pressing the button to shut the double doors before you were forced to endure a long ride down to the lobby in the company of one of Ivar's coworkers.

The moment you were on the ground floor you began fast walking to get outside, and you threw away the lunch in the first trash bin you passed. Your eyes stun when the chilly wind brushed your face, and you knew the tears you had struggled to hold in were beginning to fall. You hoped to God people weren't staring, and you kept at a brisk pace in the direction of anywhere. You and Ivar didn't live together, so you at least had your own space to hide.

As you approached the train station, your phone buzzed with a message. It was from Ivar. You wondered what words Ubbe had plied him with to get him to reach out. Usually, a message from him when you knew he was at work would have been a delight, but now you were already into second-guessing. It was a simple invite to dinner, but you knew you wouldn't be able to sit in a restaurant and pretend everything was alright. You replied with an excuse.

Sorry, I'm not feeling well today. Raincheck

Ivar's reply was quick and to the point with a simple 'okay, feel better'. But you wouldn't feel better. Your relationship was over, he just wasn't privy to the fact yet, and you didn't want to end it with the embarrassment and disappointment still so fresh…

ooOOoo

And that's how it was for the next two weeks. You distanced yourself from Ivar while gaining clarity about the situation. The hurt turned into a dull throb, but you also accepted that it wasn't his fault for feeling the way he did, even if that was cold comfort to you. It was best for you both if you ended it and moved on.

"I think we should break up," You finished saying to Ivar as he had tried to gift you a diamond bracelet. He had dropped in unannounced again, a habit that had started after you blew off the dinner. Your visits consisted of sitting in silence on opposite sides of the sofa, and you could barely bring yourself to kiss him when he would leave.

He must have sensed something was off the past few times you had seen each other, and the bracelet was his way of trying to bridge this new gap. Now he was giving you a blank stare, trying to play catch up on whatever details he had missed that led to this behavior from you.

"Alright," He started slowly. "Can I ask why?"

Because you're bored with me, your mind shouted, but you swallowed the bitterness and forced a smile. "We've been growing apart for a little while now. You must have felt it too."

"I've felt that you've been brushing me off," Ivar said as he fell back into the armchair across from you on the sofa.

"What do you mean?" You tried to act surprised by the accusation, but your voice raised a tick. You had never been a good liar.

"Well, just now when I tried to give you the bracelet, you looked disgusted. I might as well have been giving you a can of surströmming."

"That's not--" You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Not true? No, I think it is. And what about that dinner last week? Were you even sick?"

You felt small under his strong gaze, but you weren't about to let him spin this whole thing back on you when you knew the truth. "No, I wasn't sick. I guess I just didn't want to go to dinner with you because I felt it was pointless."

"Pointless? If you'd decided that, then why did you wait until now to break up with me?"

"I've never broken up with someone before," You admitted, the first truthful thing to come out of the conversation. It was always you getting left behind, and it felt strange to do it to someone else. You still had feelings for Ivar, which didn't make it any easier knowing he didn't feel the same, and possibly never had. "I thought you'd be relieved anyways. You must have felt the same, that we were drifting apart."

"I didn't realize you felt that way," Ivar replied, frowning at his lap. "Ubbe didn't say anything to you, did he?"

You tried not to react, but your blood froze in your veins and your heart trembled. "No, why would he?"

And then you realized Ivar suspected you knew about the private conversation with his brother, only he mistakenly thought Ubbe had blabbed to you about it.

"It makes sense now, why you've been pulling away. He told you, didn't he?"

"About how I'm a good person, but that I'm too shy to fit in with your social circle," You blurted out, your anger rising.

Ivar was stunned by your abrupt attitude change. You never raised your voice for anything, even when you'd argued. "So he did tell you."

"No Ivar, Ubbe didn't tell me anything." You rose from the sofa and turned your back on him to stare out the window. It was a beautiful day. You let out a mournful sigh. Too bad you wouldn't get to enjoy it. "I came to see you that day, to surprise you with lunch. I guess you wouldn't consider that spontaneous enough though."

"(Y/N)," Ivar started and over your shoulder, you could see him pushing himself up from the chair with his cane.

"I don't want to hear it," You interjected with your hand up. "This is why I didn't want you to know I knew about that. I didn't want to hear your excuses."

"That was a private conversation you weren't supposed to hear."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Ivar frowned, and he seemed annoyed with you as if you learning the truth had inconvenienced him. "No, but I should be the one upset with you for trying to break up with me without telling the truth."

"I'm not trying to break up with you, I'm done with you, Ivar," You told him, and your blunt tone caused his face to fall. "Maybe I shouldn't have listened to that conversation, but I'm glad I did. It spares me from being in a relationship with someone miserable and bored when they're with me. Did you expect me just to not say anything and carry on as if nothing had happened?"

"We could still talk this through." His voice sounded timid, and you didn't think he meant it.

"Talk through what? You're still in love with someone else, and I won't be your poor replacement." You strode to your apartment door and held it wide open. "Please leave."

You half expected Ivar to stay put and want to argue this through further. He was nothing if not confrontational, and while you admired his inner strength, you did not want to find yourself on the receiving end of Ivar Lothbrok's ire. But in the end, he didn't say anything. His cane thumped down the hallway to the door, and as he strode by you, you kept your head down holding your breath. You don't know if you were hoping he would do something to change your mind, let you know that it had all been a misunderstanding, but that wasn't the case. Ivar left, and you found yourself closing the door long after he had gone.

Now that it was final, you didn't know how to feel. The past few weeks you had been preoccupied with internalizing your heartbreak. You had held it in for so long, that now your well was empty. Your relationship was over, and if you were going to move forward you would have to cleanse your life of Ivar. Grabbing a box from your closet, you began to pack away anything he had ever given you.

ooOOoo

It was such a cliche, the expression about missing something after it was gone, but it was currently how Ivar was feeling. A month had passed by since your break-up, and time had slowed to a crawl. He hadn't seen or heard from you since he had left your apartment that day. You had returned a box of his things when he had been away at work. Hvitserk had been home to retrieve them, and Ivar had asked how you seemed. His answer; fine.

At the top of the box was the bracelet he had bought you in a last-ditch effort to try and save the relationship. You hadn't even worn it. He didn't know why he had put in the effort to save the relationship since at that time he had convinced himself it was no longer something he was invested in. Perhaps Ubbe had gotten through to him, but by then it was already too late. You had heard everything, and it had led to a devastating end.

Ivar knew why he had second-guessed being with you. He knew from the moment you met that you were the complete opposite of Freydis. You were timid, and your interests lied in things you could do independently as opposed to a social setting. Not like him at all. After growing up different from his disability, Ivar made sure he thrived in large groups as an adult, no longer wanting to be the one isolated in the corner of the room. Being with you had reminded him that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and he never thought you were weak as a result.

But then he had seen Freydis' engagement announcement online, and he was suddenly mourning the loss of his past. Never follow an ex on social media, that was Hvitserk's advice, and he should have listened. He and Freydis had said their goodbyes two years ago, though more reluctantly on his part. She was everything no one thought he would ever have in a partner. The beautiful blonde had chosen the cripple, and his ego had soared to new heights.

Food tasted better, the air was cleaner, everything was different from his supposed view from the top. Ubbe had reminded him that it hadn't been as perfect as the memories he clung to. During that time with Freydis, he had abandoned much of his ties to his family, and he had picked up the bad habit of spending money to the point of debt. When she had left him for new career goals, he had gradually returned to earth with the other mortals and realized he had been an asshole.

He had a momentary lapse back into that spell all because of one picture online, and unfortunately, it had bled on to you. Now all he could think about was how much he had hurt you, and with no real excuse good enough to justify such atrocious behavior.

A knock on his door came, and he threw the bracelet back into the box of his belongings that had made their way from your home and now back to his.

"Hey, you want dinner?" Hvitserk asked, poking his head in.

"Not hungry."

"Still feeling sorry for yourself, huh," Hvitserk said as he leaned upon the doorjamb.

"If I didn't, nobody else would," Ivar grumbled petulantly.

"And how do you think (Y/N)'s feeling?"

"I don't know, you said she was fine."

Hvitserk ran a hand down his face. "I was covering. If anything she looked...disappointed."

Disappointed in him more likely. He was a disappointment, and not because of his legs as he always feared. When the news of his break-up with you had spread through the family, they all were annoyed with him for making that choice. None more so than his mother. She had been vocal over the years of her dislike for Freydis, and while Ivar knew his mother would have a difficult time accepting any woman he brought home, she had come to reluctantly welcome you into the fold. The rest of his brothers didn't hold back on hurtling their own brand of criticism, each as unique and harsh as they were creative.

"What should I do," He asked aloud, and Hvitserk looked startled by the question. He was the last one in the family anyone looked to for advice, but Ivar already regretted not taking the bit about exs and social media to heart.

"Apologize. That's the only thing left, even if it won't be enough to remove the hurt right away. She needs to know you regret what you've said."

For the first time in a month, Ivar felt a smidgen of hope. "Do you think there's a chance we could start over?"

"I don't know about that. If she holds onto those things you've said as the truth, then she might have a hard time trusting you again. Those relationships never work out," Hvitserk said with a shrug.

"Maybe I should go over there and talk to her," Ivar said, already rising from his bed.

"I wouldn't," Hvitserk replied looking guilty. "Thora's over there now, and she's still pissed at you for hurting (Y/N). If you don't want to end up in grievous harm, I'd stay away for now. Sorry."

Ivar sighed as he plopped back down. "No, I get it."

"Try reaching out slowly, and work your way from there," Hvitserk suggested.

"You're surprisingly not as dumb as you look," Ivar taunted, and the first grin broke out on his face. It felt good to use those muscles again.

"I know, I'm brimming with knowledge and ready to impart wisdom," Hvitserk said with a laugh. He stood up from the door and looked ready to return to the sitting room. "You sure you aren't hungry? I haven't ordered yet."

"I think I could eat. Just give me a moment, I need to finish putting this stuff away." He indicated to the box, and Hvitserk nodded in understanding before closing the door behind him.

Ivar pulled out his phone and searched for your name. All of the things he had to say couldn't be composed of one text message, but he could extend an olive branch and hope it didn't come back as ashes.

I know this is probably coming too late, but I need you to know I'm sorry and I miss you. If you want to, I'd like a chance to meet and explain things, that's it -- Ivar

He hit send before he started to ramble or worse chicken out entirely and not send the thing. He didn't know if you would reach out right away, and he didn't want to know. Getting up from his bed, Ivar hobbled on his crutch, leaving his phone behind in his room to join his brother for dinner. Hvitserk must have sensed his change in mood, but he embraced it rather than asking, and they didn't bring you up again. It was the first time in a month he felt like himself, no heartache over Freydis and no self-pity over losing you. After a late-night of buffoonery, and pizza and beer, the brothers returned to their rooms.

Ivar ignored the phone sitting in the middle of the bed, avoiding it as if it was some cursed thing. He went about his nightly routine, all the while he felt the pull to check if you had replied. He hoped you had. Even if it was just to tell him to fuck off, something was better than no answer. After getting his legs settled beneath the covers, he lied down in bed and shut off the lamp on his side table. Before going to sleep it was time to check if you had seen his olive branch. The glow of his phone lit up his face, and his breath hitched. You had replied. His eyes flitted back and forth, tracing your words to make sure they were real.

I miss you too. Let's talk soon.

Ivar fell asleep right after, with renewed vigor in his heart. He would work to earn your trust back. Whether that meant as a couple or just as friends would be up to you, and Ivar would respect what you decided. So long as you were still in his life, everything would be alright.

Taglist

@pomegranates-and-blood @siren-queen03 @peachyboneless @didiintheblog @soleil-dor @zuxiezendler @pieces-by-me @xbellaxcarolinax @heavenly1927 @everyartistwas-firstanamateur @youbloodymadgenius @xceafh @strangunddurm @shannygoatgruff @1950schick @tgrrose @castielsangelsx @rose1729 @ladynightshade30 @mlchael-guerin @dangerouspsychicgardenflower @ritual-unions-gotme @readsalot73 @lonewolf471 @poisonous00 @alytavzla

#sophies400 #ivar x reader #modern ivar x reader #ivar x you #history vikings #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar angst #ivar ragnarsson #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless x reader

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

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Ooooh you have a delicious writing style- it's so descriptive! I'm afraid I'm quite new so don't know your characters much yet, but if this scenario could fit I bet you'd write it amazingly! Perhaps Character A is down on their luck, longterm or short-term wise, and is walking through town, having not eaten since the morning prior. Suddenly a store window catches their eye, displaying all sorts of amazing baked goods or meat cuts, and they can't help but stare while their hunger pains have them wincing openly. Character B notices them staring before Character A even realises what they're doing.

Agh, what a beautiful prompt. I think this is actually the first hunger fic I've written on request, so thank you, anon! I hope it’s okay that I used fancy pizza; I really wanted to use Payton for this and pizza is one of the few foods they would genuinely go weak over.

Pre-Payton and Autumn Getting Together

CW: hunger, hunger pangs, stomach noises, mentions of character unable to afford (decent) food, stress, overwork (it's Payton, what did we expect?), food mention

___

Payton sighed as they felt the drizzle start to fall around them. They stepped under a deserted bus shelter and stared out, wondering if the rain was going to get worse before it cleared up.

It was a fitting end to the day – or rather, the week – they’d been having. They couldn’t wait to get home and take off the stifling shirt they’d worn to a job interview that morning and then worn all the way through their shift at the café. They just wanted soft clothes and their bed and maybe a podcast to fall asleep to.

It all seemed so far away still, their energy sapping by the second and leaving them stranded five minutes away from the tram stop. Their feet stopped moving, rooting them to the pale grey concrete.

A gorgeous smell turned their head. Frantic interview prep, snooty employers, and stuffy clothes all faded from Payton’s mind. They were stopped across the street from the city’s most expensive food store. Built into a complex from the late 1800s, it was the kind of place where a sandwich cost €12. The kind of place that sold imported goods and “foodstuffs”.

An elaborate window was positioned behind the delicatessen section of the shop, where a chef was artfully piecing together a pizza on top of a copper paddle while another sat in a brick oven. The smell of the crisping dough must have been piped out deliberately onto the street, to entice those with money to burn, and to tease those without.

Payton fell into the latter category lately. With all the time they’d been spending on interview prep and assignments, they’d been taking shorter shifts at the café. Rent was going to clean them out this month. Today’s shift hadn’t even been long enough to warrant a full lunch break; they’d only taken fifteen minutes, and had spent thirteen of them taking a nap at the break room table.

Only now did they feel the twists of hunger in their stomach, the shakiness in their legs. Payton didn’t even realise that they had edged closer to the bus stop so they could sit down on the bench, one hand resting on their belly. Their stomach hurt, and it really was no wonder when they thought about it.

The last thing they’d eaten had been a bowl of cereal at seven a.m., the same cereal they were planning to have for dinner when they got home.

Payton’s stomach groaned unhappily at the prospect, and Payton groaned too; I’m right there with you, they thought miserably, rubbing at their stomach and continuing to watch the pizza chef through the window.

They didn’t know how long they grimaced and gazed across the street before they were interrupted.

“Payton? Hi!”

Payton jumped, head snapping up to see who’d said their name, and their heart skipped a beat.

A navy polka-dot umbrella sat over her shoulder. She was wearing tight leggings and an oversized sweater, her shoulder-length hair thrown into a lazy side-bun. She was wearing no makeup and looked a little sweaty, like she was heading home from the gym or dance practice.

She was a sight to behold, as always, even as she fumbled with her umbrella.

“H-hey,” Payton stammered, stumbling to their feet and trying to appear as though they weren’t so light-headed they were seeing stars.

Autumn glanced across the street, her eyes lingering there for a moment. “Uh, you don’t take this bus, do you?”

“I – no,” Payton admitted, glancing at the timetable and list of stops. “I was just sitting. Long day. Spaced out a bit.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” Autumn said, glancing across the street again. She let out a little laugh, though she seemed to consider holding it in for a moment. “I thought you were going to start drooling.”

“What?”

“The fancy pizzas.”

Payton’s heart dropped. Their face was feeling hot under their bangs. “Oh, I, uh, I didn’t even realise I was… staring.”

“Don’t be embarrassed! I watch them all the time when I’m waiting for the bus,” Autumn laughed.

Payton still blushed deeply, since they’d had no reason to sit down at the bus stop except to stare through the shop window. They were suddenly hyper-aware of their hand resting on their belly. They felt their stomach quiver under their palm, a low growl working its way through.

“You doing okay?” Autumn sat down on the bench, nodding for Payton to join her. She didn’t seem to hear the complaint from Payton’s belly. “Feels like forever since we last talked.”

“Y-yeah, sure does,” Payton half-laughed. Their shaky legs and dizzy head were thankful for the relief as they sank back down, leaving what they hoped was a healthy number of inches between the two of them. “I’ve been, um… I’m okay? I think. And – and you?”

“I’m actually… I’m great,” Autumn grinned, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I, um, I just found out today that I’m going to be Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors.”

“Are you serious?” Payton smiled, their mood genuinely lifting a bit at the sight of Autumn’s proud, shy little smile.

They often envied her for her absolute passion for musicals and acting, since they were failing so spectacularly at finding their place in the film world, but right then Payton was happy just knowing she was happy.

“Yeah! I still can’t really believe it.”

“I can.” Payton extended a long arm to pull Autumn towards them. “You’re brilliant.”

“Agh – ew, P, you don’t want to hug me!” she laughed, pulling her shoulders up tightly. “I’m all sweaty and damp!”

“I don’t care!” Payton wrapped their arms around her and pulled her close, so that their cheeks were just inches apart. “Your news deserves a hug.”

Autumn gave a deep, happy sigh as she leaned into the hug, probably unaware of the fact that the contact was setting Payton’s heart racing. It almost felt selfish, holding her like this when they were clearly getting more out of it than she was. They went to remove their arms from her, their chest fluttering as she buried her face deeper in their shoulder and kept her arms firmly around their waist.

It was lovely.

And yet, for the first time in a while, Payton felt a pang of loneliness, their core aching with the knowledge that they couldn’t hold her like this all the time. Deep in their bones, Payton wanted to kiss her hair, tickle her sides, and whisper happy little declarations of affection in her ear.

They didn’t whisper anything to her, though. They didn’t say anything as they held her. But their empty stomach was still twisting itself into shapes, and it clearly didn’t get the memo on holding Autumn quietly. A sharp growl had Payton wincing and trying to clear their throat (to cover up the noise) all in the same breath.

“Whoa, is that your stomach?” Autumn asked, lifting her head from Payton’s shoulder.

Payton’s body stiffened. “It… might be.”

“Are you okay? You must be starving.”

“I’m… Yeah.” Payton swallowed hard, letting a hand rest on their belly again.

Autumn moved back to give them some space. She was staring like she expected an explanation, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. Payton’s stomach rumbled under their hand again, bringing a twist of pain, and they didn’t know if they wanted to laugh or to cry.

“I guess I haven’t been taking care of myself too well.” They flinched again at the crack in their own voice.

Lifting her umbrella from where it had been resting against her leg, Autumn got to her feet. “Come on.”

Payton looked up at her, blinking behind their bangs. Exhaustion weighted them to the bench. “Come on where?”

A little hum escaped Autumn’s throat as she jerked her head. Her umbrella popped open and she stepped out of the bus shelter. The rain pattered against the fabric, a little heavier than it had been before.

“We’re gonna go eat pizza. Not – not there,” she clarified, gesturing towards the expensive deli. “I was thinking top floor of the Greene Centre. They sell by the slice and it’s super cheap.”

Payton swallowed again, guilt piling itself on top of the embarrassment. They felt as though they’d somehow coerced Autumn into offering to buy dinner, and the thought made them physically shudder. They got to their feet and moved a little closer to Autumn so she could hear them.

“I probably still can’t afford it,” they mumbled, staring at the ground.

“It’ll be my treat today, okay? You can pay me back by letting me ramble about my show.”

Payton gave her a shaky smile. “Are you sure?”

“Hundred percent.” That shy smile crossed Autumn’s face again. “It’s gonna sound weird, but when I found out I got the part… You were the first person I wanted to tell, Payton.”

“I... Really?” As they chewed their lip, a deep rumble came from Payton’s tummy. They frowned and folded their arms around it, noticing how Autumn's gaze drifted towards it too.

"Come on, I can't listen to your poor belly complain anymore." She lifted her umbrella a little higher with one hand – Payton was a few inches taller than her – and stuck out her elbow for Payton to link their arm through hers. “Shall we go?”

#hunger #hunger fic #OC hunger #stomach ache #stomach ache fic #hunger kink #belly kink #stomach kink #OC fic #stomach noises #Lucyverse #Lucyverse Payton #Lucyverse Autumn #fic #fic length

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unholyhelbig · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do something fluffy for Bechloe?

Read on AO3 here

A/N: Me? Fluff? Are you sure... Did you ask the right person to do this?

The test tube shattered before anyone could catch it. Not like their reflexes were perfect, or even adequate, but they were sharp enough to notice when the sample got too close to the edge of the counter- and cunning enough to know when it wasn’t good that glass splayed across the tile floor.

Because the truth of the matter was, they didn’t know what it was. It had been labeled by a resident the week before after a woman was wheeled into the ICU and died two days later after her symptoms reached a peak and she coded. And now… well now her blood was among the shards and the metallic scent that filled the air slowly bubbled in the room.

Beca had just taken a mouthful of sandwich and bit down hard on the mix of deli meat and mustard. She chewed slowly, meeting the eyes of the only other woman in the lab; a pediatrician from a few floors down that had been searching for a tiger topped tube.

She swallowed the bit of food on her tongue “Uh oh,”

“You shouldn’t say uh oh in medicine.” The woman glanced down at the sample that splattered the edges of her shoes. “What exactly was in that?”

The woman set down her lunch and stood from her seat before walking to the door and closing it. There was a contamination button right next to the side, and it would seal the base of the door and alert the security department to the fact that there may have been a possible quarantine situation in progress.

She pressed it and turned to face her counterpart. She had seen her in the hallways before, in passing and always found her captivating in a collective type of way. She was good with children, had to be, and had such striking eyes that were pooled with worry at this point. Beca crossed her arms over her chest.

“A blood sample from the woman they brought into the ICU a few days ago, it’s the only thing left of her.”

“Oh… the one that they couldn’t figure out in time?”

“The one that we still can’t figure out.”

Beca crossed the room and shoved the rest of her lunch into the little trashcan next to the lab table she most definitely wasn’t supposed to be eating at. Doctor Chloe Beale watched her all the while, paying most attention to the heavy sound of a deadbolt and the way the blood crept towards the drain.

She never had much trouble eating in the morgue before, and she certainly didn’t’ expect a fiery-haired peds physician to come down here rooting through the rest of the medical supplies that they shouldered off on the less desirable rooms in this place. Overcrowded, understaffed.

It was easy to stay among the dead; the rows of silver drawers and quiet tick of the sink that was broken in the corner. But now they had blood, exposed blood that she was supposed to examine for particulates because no one could figure out what had killed this woman.

“What does that mean for us?” She lifted her eyebrows, taking a tentative step from the slathered rustic color.

“Quarantine,” Beca said.

“Quarantine? I… I have to split an arm, and draw a blood sample from a two-year-old with gastrointestinal discomfort, she can’t even keep Pedialyte down and her parents are not patient.”

“A tiger on a two-year-old? Yikes. Don’t you have interns for that kind of thing?”

She scoffed and leaned against the metal counter. The wall phone started its rhythmic ring and Beca wasted no time picking it up. The security team had gotten back to them, and a dull buzz of activity started outside.

Beca was told not to touch the blood that had spilled on the floor. She was also told that it wouldn’t’ be too long before the CDC came in and checked their levels with their much fancier machines and important equipment, and quite honestly, they could have taken the sample and given the hospital a full answer before they passed it down to a coroner that had little to no knowledge on disease control.

She hung up the phone with a sigh “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Hit me with both,” Doctor Beale held her hands up in surrender “I’m a big girl.”

“Bad news is, we have to stay in here until they figure out what exactly killed that woman, and if we’re also in danger of dying from said thing…” She sounded out carefully “Good news is, most of the company I have down here don’t talk back, so I have exactly three decks of cards, a stress ball, and a lot of snacks.”

“I’m a mean card shark, I have fantastic hand-eye coordination, and I can’t fathom how you eat down here.”

Beca smiled back and rooted around in the bottom drawer among the rubber bands and the paperclips, and a wrapped snack cake that had been there since before she started. One of the interns had even scrawled the date on the plastic wrapping but she couldn’t’ recall it, not with the pediatrician staring her down like this.

She pulled out the cards and gestured for the woman to pull her stool closer. There was nothing else they could do, not really unless they wanted to pull the body of Mr. Hodges from the bottom right tray and perform the county autopsy that she was putting off until the end of the day.

“It’s not that bad, I just can’t like… look at them or anything. Really the morgue is peaceful and it’s the only place in the hospital that legally has to stay at a cool temperature. So I get great air conditioning.”

“Touché. The peds floor is like a sauna this time of year, which really doesn’t’ help fussy kids. Nothing does unless it’s a popsicle or a toy… or superheroes- you know, air condition probably would be nice.”

She was rambling, flustered by either the scent of blood or being in the basement of the hospital with a strange and small doctor who held a pack of cards between her hands, dainty and steady. Beca found it cute, endearing, really.

“How do you fair at poker?” Beca asked, sparing her.

“Mm, not well. I’ve never played.”

“Cribbage?”

“No,”

“Rummy?”

“Yeah… no”

“Go fish?”

“That’s one I know,” She clapped her hands as if getting an answer right on jeopardy. “Quite good at that one, actually. Card Shark.”

Beca blew air out of her nose and had to stifle a smile. She could see why she chose the profession she did and could see even more why children liked her. Beca tended to not have the best wrap sheet with tiny humans, in fact, some would call her bad at it all together. But she still tried, and happily dealt the two of them even piles of playing cards.

They played for a few minutes, Chloe getting an accurate pile of cards because she was shockingly crushing this game. It took a bit for her to frown and set the fan of cards down on the silver-topped table. She leaned forward, onto her palms, and let out a sigh. There was an overwhelmingly comforting scent of lemon and mint that radiated from her.

“Do you have a will?” she asked.

“I don’t,” Beca frowned “Do you have any seven’s?”

She didn’t’ get an answer, just a hard glare that sent shivers down her spine so she set her own pile down and focused her full attention on the woman in front of her. It wasn’t’ that hard to do, not in the slightest. Not with the way, Chloe’s eyes shined under the lights and the ghost of a constellation moved across her dainty nose and sprawling cheeks.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know I just… Even though this game of Go Fish is rousing, It has me thinking; if I died right now because of whatever is in that blood sample, I wouldn’t want my last memory to be of playing a children’s card game in a creepy basement.” She flushed then, glancing down “With a very beautiful hermit who practically lives in said small basement, but still.”

“No, I get it. Mortality is subjective and when you’re trapped in a room because said chance of survival just got cut in half… it’s not encouraging.” Beca leaned back in her chair and took in her surroundings.

“Right.” She nodded slowly “I work with children, I chose that specialty for a reason. It’s sadder when they die, but it’s rare that they do. Whereas you’re surrounded by it all day and- seriously I don’t know how you eat down here. Or how you’re staying so calm.”

“Doctor Beale,” She laughed, something soft and waning “someone down here opens up a test tube of smallpox or TB every other day down here. I have yet to draw up a will, and frankly… well frankly I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

The phone rang again, this time it was loud enough to startle them both, neither breaking eye contact with one another until that very moment. Beca stood and pointed to the cards “Don’t you dare cheat, Doctor Beale, I have eyes on the back of my head.”

She answered and let out a stale sigh of relief because they were going to be fine, and that was something good. But she had also been right about the CDC and their ungodly speed. This was considerably better than being trapped in the room with the old man who trained her in the first place. She hung up the phone and turned to face the woman who was lifting up the edge of her cards.

“I didn’t do it,” She put both hands in the air once more. “What’d they say?”

“You’re off the hook this time. Whatever killed her has nothing to do with bloodwork, so it’s just blood. Not poison. Which means you get away with cheating this entire time at Go Fish.”

“The whole time? I didn’t cheat the whole time.”

She stood and crossed the room to where Beca was standing. She just noticed that the woman was a bit taller than her, and again that sharp scent of mint and lemon from tea coated her throat. It was better than the blood and the chemicals of the lab.

“I’ll uh, I’ll try to be down here the next time someone opens up a vile of consumption. We can have a rematch.”

“That would be nice, I’ll keep an eye on you, though. You’ve got sticky fingers.”

Doctor Beale smiled and grasped the tiger tube that she had come in to get in the first place. She slipped it into her pocket and kept her hand there before taking a small step back away from the spilled blood and the drain that it dripped into.

“I think you’re beautiful too, by the way,” Beca said as the woman reached for the door.

“What?”

“Earlier… you said I was beautiful.”

“Huh,” She smiled coyly, lilting her head to the side “Did I?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m very observant. You called me a hermit too, but I’ll let that one slide.”

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic rec #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fic #bechloe fanfic #request

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fruitpunchninja101 · 4 years ago

Text

Flowers For You

After a small spat at the merchants assembly, Levi was determined to avoid Hange and her flower shop at all costs. Unfortunately, The funny thing about trying to avoid someone is that you have to have a rough approximation of their daily routine. And so, his quest began.

Written for LeviHan Eggschange 2021 @levihanweek

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Hello my dear giftee! I’m sorry if your gift took a while! I hope you'd enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed making it. Keep safe!♥

“Every plant can do this fundamental process, and we call this Photosynthesis.”

Cheery voices of kids boomed in celebration as soon as they finished singing.

Ever since summer break started, the flower shop in front of his store started a “Horticulture Camp” for little kids. At first, He didn’t really pay much attention to the cacophony of loud cheers and noises but as days passed, customers would leave little comments like “Sure does sound like a daycare in there.” or “Your neighbor sounds like they're having a lot of fun in there huh?”

The thought about confronting the owner of the flower shop did cross his mind, but there's a little problem, they had a little bit of a spat at the shop keeps assembly last month.

Okay, he'll admit it, maybe It's not just a spat, It's more like a full blown passive aggressive squabble. His memory of the event was a little hazy but he recalled raising his concern about the dried leaves that keeps blowing over his store. Something about her nonchalance about his concern and something about his word choice led to a disastrous mistranslation of what he really wanted to say which somehow escalated to a kerfuffle. "You and Hange will be the hot topic of the whole merchants block for a good while." Erwin warned him after the assembly. Tch! He certainly didn't need that kind of attention.

Since then, Levi kept his distance from that damn flower shop and focused on minding his own business. He is determined to avoid this Hange at all costs! Unfortunately, The funny thing about trying to avoid someone is that you have to have a rough approximation of their daily routine. And so, his quest began.

Hange's schedule was never consistent.

Sometimes she'd open her shop so late that her students would start rough housing by the sidewalk waiting for her arrival. Their parents would wait by her store too and they were seemingly too charmed by her to get annoyed about her tardiness. By the time she gets there the kids would immediately run towards her climbing on her limbs but she never seemed to mind. Those kids eyes would shine so bright at her , he’s pretty sure he’d go blind if he kept on staring at them.

She never seemed to eat lunch for some reason. Sometimes, the son of the deli owner at the corner of their street, Moblit , would come by to bring her food. There was a time when he thought the guy was courting her but he can tell by that sad longing stare he gives at her when he leaves her shop that Hange had no fucking clue about his intentions.

She never brings an umbrella even when it rains. She just runs across the street donning a hoodie. Which she would continue to wear all throughout the day. She’d definitely get sick if she doesn't dry herself up properly. If the rain is still pouring by the time she closes up her store, Hange would spend a good minute to stare at the night sky marveling at the little droplets like its the first time she ever saw one in her life. Nights like that , he would close up a little late to make sure she's gone before he leaves.

Observing her became a routine at this point.

During warm sunny days, she would wear a brightly colored shirt underneath her overalls. Unfortunately, the shirt seemed to be the only thing she changes regularly. He can tell it's the same overalls because it still has all the stains in the same place as the day before. Her best record was 5 days without washing the damned thing and he can't tell if that's impressive or disgusting.

When the kids aren't around, Hange would dote on her plants until late hours of the day. He'd watch her methodically arrange flowers and pour all her love and care to every bouquet she makes. All the while ignoring the fact that she haven't had food at all. ( He knows because Moblit recently got a girlfriend and since then , he only drops by the flower shop to pick up orders for his new love interest.) All he ever see her consume are cups of coffee and not even the good stuff. Just the regular instant kind from the grocery. Days like that , he hopes that she would at least stop by a convenience store to pick up something to eat.

It didn't take too long for him to consider that maybe Hange isn't an asshole at all.She's just one of those people who gets easily preoccupied with things that pique her interest is all. To hell with her health, appearance or even basic cleanliness. Its frustrating but at the same time its a relief to know that underneath all that nuttiness is a seemingly good person.

He was just closing up shop one night when he noticed her still sitting in her store as she practiced playing the Photosynthesis song on her guitar.She was surrounded by an array of beautiful flowers and in that dim light, he could've sworn she looked like a scruffy forest diety.

And it was at that point when he realized that a smile is creeping up his lip. What the fuck was that about?

As if hearing his thoughts, Hange's head perked up from her guitar and turned towards him. He froze as soon as their eyes met. She gave him a tight lipped smile and at that, Panic shot through him. He immediately turned away from her and rushed to turn off the lights and closed his store.

Days after that encounter, Levi had to resist the urge to spare even a peek over her shop. he didn't like that sometimes his mind would wander to images of her that night. He probably overdid his little investigation is all! He had to stop watching her schedule anyway , he had all the information he needs at this point.

However, her presence never seemed to leave him. He'd still overhear the rhythm of her guitar and the rambunctious laughter from her little campers. Even Eld and Gunther are starting to warm up to it. "There's something about the sound of children having fun that puts me at ease." He heard Eld reason out to Gunther the other day. Even Oluo who once mentioned his irritation with the constant singing is starting to absentmindedly hum the damn song.

He's ready to let the whole thing go but when a loud crashing sound (which is probably another pot broken by a child.) caused Petra to make a small uneven line on her work , he knew he had to do something. Even if these type of mistakes are easily fixed, precision is utterly important in his business and he can't have random nuisances ruining his reputation. He'll do it tomorrow. NO! He'll do it tonight! There's no use to delay the inevitable.

Odd enough, he did wonder if she even knew his name.

Tch.

Levi was just closing up his shop that night when he heard someone open the door. Accepting late night jobs Isnt new to him but he did commit to speaking with Hange about his concerns so he let out an absent minded “We're closed” warning before realizing who entered his shop.

It’s her.

She wore an oversized green overalls paired with battered up chucks that he bet was once white. Her brown mop of hair was tied messily up on her head. He didn’t miss the huge ass bouquet tucked in her arm as she struggled to get through his door.

“A little help?” She said, as if they didn’t had a spat that literally had them screaming at each other infront of other people. Levi paused cleaning his tattoo gun and hurried to help her. ”What are you doing here at this hour?” He asked genuinely out of curiosity than irritation.

”I just wanna give you these.” She beamed as she let go of the huge bunch for him to carry inside. “The kids got a little carried away with their flower arrangements today and I’d feel awful if I have to throw it out.” She continued.

“You think dumping this monstrosity to me is the solution?” He asked, immediately regretting his word choice.

“Monstrosity?!”Hange placed her hand on her chest playfully feigning mortification and shock.

He rolled his eyes at her and was a bit surprised that Hange chuckled at him and leisurely walked past him to take a seat at one of the stools by his register and started innocently looking around his shop seemingly waiting on him for a conversation. "Neat place you got here." She said.

"Thanks?" He said genuinely confused what she's doing here. Although, He did wonder if it has something to do with that awkward encounter they had the other night. He really hoped she already forgot about that. “What are these for?” He asked as he opened the cupboards hopelessly trying to look for a vase somewhere in his shop.

“I was gonna ask you for a favor.” She replied.

He scoffed. “what makes you think I’d help you.”

“It’s for a good cause! Plus,I was thinking it’s your opportunity to make up with that whole assembly incident we had.”

He paused and glared daggers at her. She still have that goofy smile on her face. “That dumb assembly incident was not something I want to make up with.” He said stubbornly.

Hange rolled her eyes at him. “Oh please you were angry over a few dried pieces of leaves in front of my store it’s hardly even your business.”

“Your leaves are blowing over my store front so yes it was my business.”

“You know I run a flower shop right? These things happen. I cant just wait outside my store and catch all the falling leaves for your convenience.” Her voice slightly raised as if she’s explaining something so obvious to him. Of course he knows these things happen, he’s not an idiot. All he wants is for her to take responsibility and not be so nonchalant over it.

“You don’t even...” He closed his mouth. She's starting to get a rise from him and it made him queasy. It's not even worth it. He closed his eyes to calm himself.

“Look, the favor isn’t even for me.” She started. Her tone of aggressiveness gone. ”Just hear me out please?” Her voice sounded gentle and warm this time. She’s so hot and cold it’s starting to drive him insane.

He opened his eyes and was met with her brown orbs that shone bright behind her dirty glasses. “Go ahead.” He said defeatedly avoiding her pleading eyes and proceeded to turn back to his cupboard. He should just let her say her piece and move on.

“It’s for one of my campers actually.”

“Hn.Which one? the brunette kid that shouts a lot?”

“Oh you know Eren?”

“He always sticks his snotty face up on my window how can I forget.”

“Yeah, That kid adores you you know , he asked about you and what you guys do here a couple of times before. He even threw fits because he wanted to get a tattoo from you.”

He scoffed. ”How is that my problem?”

”You see, his little friend Armin loved the camp but is a little too shy for his own good. He won’t attend sessions without Eren who sort of refused to attend til you tattoo something on him.”

“So you want me to tattoo a child? ”He turned from his fruitless quest for a vase on his cupboard to raise a brow at her.

“Not a real one, just one of those temporary tattoo stickers.”

He scratched the back of his head and let out a sigh. It would be easier to complain to her about the noise of she owed him some sort of favor. Right? "Alright." He said.

She surged out of her seat and gave out a small yelp startling him. "You'd do it? Really?" Her eyes seemed brighter now.

“Yeah sure." He said as he marveled at how expressive her eyes were. He willed himself to tear his eyes from her damn face. "Is there anything else?” He asked.

“Yes.” She replied enthusiastically.

“You are really pushing your luck here four eyes.”

She chuckled at that and pushed her glasses a bit higher up her nose. ”Don't worry, this one isn't a favor. More like a friendly advice."

He raised a brow at her. "What?"

"Put those in cold water. They'd last longer that way.” She said pointing at the bright colored bouquet at the table which certainly looked out of place against the black and gray interior of his shop.

After exchanging details about their little activity tomorrow, Hange gave him a final enthusiastic wave before taking off his shop leaving him in awe.

Ah. He forgot to mention his noise complaint.

The next day, nine little children were lined up orderly marching up infront of his store led by Hange. She carried a red flag to remind everyone where she is at all times. They all wore a silk screen printed shirt that says plants rule in front and some sort of a plant pun at the back.

Hange's shirt says. 'Someone has been adding soil to my garden. The plot thickens.'

Ah. That was pretty good...and also pretty dumb.

“Are you sure about this boss?” Oluo asked as he worked on a cover up on a customers shoulder.

"No." He answered earing a chuckle from Eld, Gunther and Petra at the back.

"Good Morning Underground Ink!" Hange enthusiastically cheered as she opened the door.

"Keep your voice down four eyes!"

“Oh! Sorry!" She mouthed at him before turning back to her campers. "Kids say good morning to Mr.Ackerman!” She beamed.

“Goodmorning Mister Ackerman!” The kids said in unison in a sing song tune. He gave them a small nod of acknowledgement then proceeded to cut out the temporary tattoo sheet into small pieces. The kids immediately scattered around the store to take a look at the reference books laid on his lounge. He glowered at Hange. "You said they'd behave."

"They would I promise! They're just a bit excited with our little expedition."

"If they break anything, I swear you're gonna pay ten times the price."

"Oh don't be such a grump!" She said slapping his arm. "Ouch! You didn't tell me you work out."

"Tch." He clenched his jaw and focused his eyes on the tattoo sheets he's cutting up. Damn four eyes and her mouth.

"Hey Kids! Gather over here Mr.Ackerman will show you how to put on a tattoo."

“Is this gonna hurt?” Eren innocently asked.

“Not if you’re brave.” He answered. The kid involuntarily recoiled at that. He can tell that Eren's starting to have second thoughts and struggled to put on a brave face. Eren immediately sought out Hange seemingly asking for help and at that, she immediately stepped up and ruffled the kids hair. ”I’ll get my tattoo done first.” Hange hopped on a chair and presented her wrist to Levi.

Levi held her hand to keep her arm steady. His eyes darted at her as if asking her if the touch was permitted and he was met with a sweet smile. He immediately avoided her eyes pushing down the thought of her playing her guitar surrounded by flowers...a scruffy forest diety. he recalled the exact words that formed on his mind that night.

He bit the inside of his cheek to ground himself to reality. Levi held the damp towel against her wrist and she let out a little yelp. He immediately pulled away hoping he didn't press too hard while his mind wandered to silly memories of her the other night. "Gotcha!" Hange teased chuckling at him. "Ass!" he said playfully throwing his towel at her face gaining another laugh from the brunette. The kids huddled around them giggled at them.

"Ms.Hange, What's an ass?" A little girl munching potato chips asked.

"It's another term for a donkey." A small timid blonde kid answered.

"Thats right Armin!Very good!" Hange said. The blonde kid blushed at her praise and glued his eyes on the floor.

"What's a donkey?" Potato chip girl asked again.

"It's like a little horse" Armin answered.

"Why are you calling Ms.Hange a donkey Mr.Ackerman? She doesn't even look like a horse" A kid with shaved head asked.

"...unlike Jean over here." Eren added and a kid with elvish features (which he assumed is Jean) stepped up and hit Eren by the arm. Eren was ready to retaliate when Hange spoke.

"Kids, we promised Mr.Ackerman no rough housing inside the store." Hange reminded them calmly and the kids immediately pulled away from one another.

There was a brief moment of silence and wondering gasps from children around them as he worked on Hange's tattoo.“So does anyone have a question to Mister Ackerman.” He immediately frowned. He said yes to tattooing kids not chatting them up. Nothing would have prepared him for the set of questions that came rushing in after Hange's open invite.

Eren is the last one to get his tattoo. He disinfected his arm with alcohol and his eyes drifted to Hange who was blushing at the sight of a kid adorably putting on a brave face.

Levi had to look away.

At the end of the session,all kids merrily walked back to her shop comparing all their little tattoos. Hange then thanked him for playing along with her little activity.

His whole afternoon was a blur. Between those kids who won't stop asking him and Hange's constant teasing smirks he was out of it. He scrubbed the side of his tattoo gun a little harder.

“I see you put my flowers in a bucket.”

Levi almost dropped his tattoo gun as Hange's merry voice boomed around the shop.

“Its the closest thing I have to a vase.” He said wondering if she’s offended that he chucked her precious flowers on a bucket, but that endearing smile she had on her face says otherwise.

“I had just the thing!” She rushed out of his shop and came back with a huge crystal vase.

“What's that?”

“Its a vase I inherited from my gram-gram.”

“I can see its a vase.”

“Well with the horticulture camp and all I'm scared this would get knocked over and you seem like an organized responsible sort of guy. Maybe you can take care of this for me for a while.”

She’s certainly getting a little too comfortable with favors now. ”What makes you think I wouldn’t knock it over to get back on you for that assembly mess.”

“Because you’re nicer than your letting on.” she says as she procured a small rose from her back pocket and gently tucked its stem behind his ear. He compelled his hand to swat her arm way but his body didn't cooperate. He stood there frozen wondering if she truly was some sort of a scruffy forest deity and she's punishing him from his insolence at that assembly.

Okay, that sounded dumb...What the hell is wrong with him?

"Did the kids asked you to give me this?" He forced himself to reply.

"Nah, That one is from me." She said. Her eyes were bright and her face were slightly flushed. He wondered if he'd never seen anyone look this gallant and handsome before.

"You don't like it?" She asked cocking her head to the side.

"No! I-ah...I'm just..." He stuttered trying to find the right words without sounding pathetic. His hand raised to touch the flower on his ear. He never got flowers before. He felt a smile coming up so he forced a frown.

“Why are you frowning? Don't tell me you're still upset about that assembly thing? I thought were past that?”

“Tch! No were not!” Levi recoiled at how loud his reply was.

”You see, I would be threatened but I just watched you spend your afternoon tattooing a bunch of kids even though you are not paid for it so...Yeah...I guess water under the bridge right?”

“Who says I'm not charging you? I thought you came here to pay up.” He smirked finding calm at her retort.

At that, Hanji laughed. She fucking laughed! The woman even clutched her arms around her stomach and doubled over. She practically radiated with warmth and a familiar sense of home. “Alright you got me, I don’t want to owe you anything so how about a cup of coffee sometime? Although, you seemed to prefer tea”

He scrunched his face. "How do you know I prefer tea?"

"You see, the funny thing about a huge glass storefront window is that, if you can see me, that means I can see you too."

”Wh-What are you on about? I don't...” Fuck! She knows. He internally panicked and wondered what would the appropriate response be.

"Oh calm down! Don't worry, I don't mind you ogling at me." She smirked evidently teasing him.

"Tch. Fuck you four eyes!"

"I wouldn't mind that too." He froze and It didn't take her too long to realize what she said. Her face immediately flushed in a very flattering shade of red. "I'm sorry I got carried away." Hange slightly turned away and tucked a little piece of her hair behind her ear.

He wanted to say something...flirty maybe? But chances are he's gonna run his mouth and say something about him thinking that she was a scruffy forest deity or how he hates that she never opens her store on time or how he knows her best record for not changing jumpsuits is 5 days. So he kept his mouth shut and let silence engulf them.

“Well, I’m next door just in case you wanna take me up for tea. I’ll see you around I guess.”

"Wait!" He called out.

Hange whipped her head to turn to him and he rushed behind the register to grab one of his spare umbrellas he keeps for emergencies. "Take this."

"What for?" She asked scratching the back of her head.

"You'd get sick running around in rain." he said plainly, hoping she didn't find him too creepy.

Levi didn't know it was possible but he swore her eyes shone a little brighter, a small smile is now etched on her face. "See you later Levi." She took one last glance at him lifting an arm to wave as she ran back to her store.

“Later, four eyes.” He whispered beneath his breath and although he felt pleasantly sunny inside, he sensed that he forgot about something...

Ah, he forgot to talk to her about his noise complaint.

#levihan #levihaneggschange2021 #levi ackerman #hange zoe #snk

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear.

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there.

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself.

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games.

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...”

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work."

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church.

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family.

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee.

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road.

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat.

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it.

She was also deadly serious.

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations.

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep.

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes.

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair.

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking.

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either."

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs.

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides.

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill.

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?"

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?"

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk.

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?"

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone; the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!".

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that.

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away,"

He regretted it as soon as it came out.

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip.

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything?

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way.

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too.

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion.

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from.

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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

Permanent Tags:

@burnsoslow @ao719 @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @ofpixelsandscribbles @amandablink @cordoniaqueensworld @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer @cordonia-gothqueen @tinkie1973

#drake x alyssa #Liam x Riley #gun usage #hunting

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yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

Text

Human Relations Snippet: Tim teaches Jon the internet and odious goats are sacrificed to the cult of Bezos

There’s no reason for this to exist. I was rereading a bit of HR and I saw a throwaway joke about Jon wanting to buy Martin a Portal Gun. I started wondering about how that would even work. The answer is, obviously, a 200 year old man squinting at a computer screen wondering why there’s so many horny singles in his area. I get possessed by demons easily, so I took three hours out of writing my daemon au and wrote this instead. Bon Appetit.

(Edit, quick clarification: I think that Jon would refuse to use the name for the Beholding that Smirke made up, and although all of this exists in my head and you guys don’t know this, there was a lot of tension between Jon and Jonah’s ‘circle’. So Jon hated Smirke and thought he was a hack. He uses Smirke’s terms to others sometimes for ease of understanding or in deference to Jonah (:/) but I think that mentally he mainly calls the Beholding his own name, The Witness. It rings of that personal and intimate connection Jon and the Beholding has. Anyway, onto the story.)

After one hour in anguished uncertainty, fifty popups that advised Jon of very many ‘hot singles in his area’, six separate sites that Jon’s God had to inform him were covers for thieves that stole money from you, and a very confusing retreat to Jon’s favorite internet page ‘Wikipedia’ as to what an Amazon was, Jon had given up.

Normally this was where he asked one of his personal assistants for help. Normally, he wouldn’t even be trying, and he would have just told one of them to do it. This was how Jon had cunningly mostly avoided using computers for the past twenty years. Some endeavors were unavoidable, and Jon was proud to say that he mastered email in 2010. Or was it 2008? He liked to think it was 2006, but it was possible...never mind. If it was important, the Witness would tell him.

Peter Lukas was right on almost nothing, Jon thought disgruntledly as he slammed his laptop shut - including in his taste of men, company, philosophies, men, patron deities, professions, and men - but he was right in his proclamation that the internet was the degradation of society. Not that he hadn’t sacrificed his morality and sold out, feeding his patron through something called “incel forums” and “Reddit”. Between him, Jonah’s “Excel spreadsheets” and “TurboTax”, and Annabelle Cane’s ridiculous “MMO guilds”, the Society was filling with computer geeks. Jon could always read the wind: he had to keep up, and quickly.

Besides, Martin had kindly educated him on how it was almost unheard of for a young man like Jon to not understand how to work that Goggle thing. Giggle? Martin was very streetwise and was one of the most insightful people Jon had ever known, he was definitely right.

Which is why he had to buy him this “Portal Gun” that he wanted. He had even shown Jon the website! And if Jon was in desperate times trying to navigate these confusing webpages entirely with URLs he memorized, then he would take desperate measures!

“I’m going down to the Archives,” Jon said, slithering off the couch and clutching his laptop to chest. Jonah had bought it for him. He appeared surprised that Jon was using it. “I may not be back for a while. I need...a book.”

Jonah didn’t look away from his own infernal machine. It seemed he was on that ‘Excel’ program again. Was it one of those ‘video games’ he kept hearing about? “Do I want to know what you were doing on that laptop.”

“Reading Wikipedia,” Jon said immediately, and somewhat defensively. Jon had discovered Wikipedia in 2001 before promptly funding it and throwing his weight behind its development. He had spent a solid five years convinced a computer was a kind of electronic screen that let you read digital Encyclopedia pages, like in Star Trek. He’d seen Star Trek. Georgie made him. “Did you know that -”

“Yes, yes, have fun. Haven’t you read that entire site already?”

“Not even,” Jon said defensively. “I can’t just sit and read through entire Encyclopedias anymore, Jonah. We know more things now.”

“What a way to describe the last two hundred years,” Jonah said, not even looking away from his computer. “We know more things. Never change, Jon.”

“You’re the one who never changes,” Jon grumbled. But it was a weak comeback, and considering his brand new delightfully short stature somewhat untrue, so Jon breezed out of Jonah’s office with full knowledge that he’d think of a better comeback halfway down the steps to the Archives.

In fact, it wasn’t until he was at the door, and by then he felt stupid for losing a point against Jonah anyway. He easily opened the door, stepping inside and quickly bee-lining for Sasha’s office. Her burgeoning powers were wonderfully flowing in the shape of access to and understanding of technology. He had never seen such gratuitous breeches of privacy as she casually committed. Every day Jon was validated in his decision to save her from the Stranger. A balance, an equal yet opposite Archivist from Jon, would be invaluable. Not that Jonah and Jon weren’t their own yin and yang, but Jonah’s powers were paltry and out-of-date. Mind reading and spying through iconography was so 1960. They needed fresh blood.

Sasha had been a wonderful choice, and Jon didn’t regret choosing her to act as saviour. Most of the time. Some of the time she -

“She’s not in.”

Jon’s fist halted in front of the door, about to sharply rap on her office door. He turned around to actually look through the bullpen, only to see that Timothy was sitting in his chair chewing a sandwich. Somehow angrily. Definitely suspiciously.

“Are you sure?” Jon asked dubiously. “Because you’ve lied about this before.”

“Because you should stop coming down here and bothering her.” Timothy balled the saran wrap in his hand and dunked it in the trash can, somehow undoubtedly giving the impression that he wished it was Jon’s head. “Just bugger off.”

Someone was in a snit. Normally Timothy wasn’t this hostile. Jon had thought that learning his name might make him less mean, but it did little to help. But when Jon looked around he didn’t see Martin, and a quick check assured him that both Sasha and Martin were having lunch at their favorite deli and engaging in that plotting hobby they both enjoyed. Timothy had elected to stay behind, stewing in his own angry and paranoid juices.

He would have to do this with Martin out of the Archives...and he really wanted to take care of this now so Martin would get it before the weekend...and it wasn’t as if Jon was scared of this boy he was one hundred and seventy years older than…

“Uh,” Jon said intelligently, “can you help me with...something…”

Timothy’s face twisted in a novel combination of surprise and disgust. “What,” he sneered, “your evil fear god or whatever can’t figure it out for you?”

“I don’t need others to think for me,” Jon said stiffly. It was something he’d had to say far too many times. “The Witness is less helpful with...troubleshooting...look, do you know how to work a computer?”

Timothy stared at him blankly. “Like, at all?”

“I’m trying to buy Martin this toy he desires,” Jon said desperately. Fuck it all, he walked over and sat down in the chair next to Tim’s desk. He pulled a little bit closer, placing his laptop on Tim’s desk, and ignored the way the other man leaned away. “But whenever I try I keep on seeing alerts about hot singles. I’m not interested in young women, I just need to buy a ‘Portal Gun’. Do you know what a Portal Gun is?”

Timothy continued staring at him, eyebrows raised. Clearly involuntarily, so quick that he may not even have noticed, one corner of his lips was ticking upwards into a smile.

“How many credit card scams have you fallen for?”

“Absolutely none,” Jon said, very quickly. He pulled out his credit card, placing it on the table. He knew a credit card was involved, although he didn’t know how. “What do I do? Do I swipe it? Is there a port?” He picked up the laptop and squinted at its sides, looking for a port. “I wanted to ask Sasha for help, since she’s the expert in hacking, but surely you know the basics?”

“I mean...I can’t, like, code, but yeah, I can work Amazon.” Timothy carefully opened the laptop, watching the display light up. He effortlessly navigated to an icon on the screen, clicking it open.

“That’s not right,” Jon said urgently. “You’re supposed to press the E.”

“I do not want to know how many toolbars you have,” Timothy said bluntly. “We’re using Chrome. That’s another way to look at the Internet.” He rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, I got a grandmother, we can do this.”

Jon perked up. “So you’ll help?”

Went unsaid: even though you hate me?

“Whatever,” Timothy grumbled. Jon decided not to press his luck.

Jon decided that he liked the Chrome better than the Internet Explorer, because it was simpler and Google was on the first page. Tim rapidly typed on ‘Amazon.com’ into the search bar and easily scrolled through the very busy and picture filled page that immediately popped up. Why was everything so fast? Maybe this was why the young people had no attention span: these pages just came up immediately. No flipping for indices for finding anything in phone books.

“Right. What was it, a Portal Gun? Like from the game?”

“A board game?”

“Video game.”

“Like on a VHS…?”

“Right.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, Sasha said that you’re one of the most famous sociologists and anthropologists in British history.”

“I am extremely intelligent, Timothy, and I won’t abide any insinuation otherwise,” Jon said curtly. “I cannot be expected to keep constant track every time there’s another - iPhone or whatever. You have teenagers in your family, correct? Do you always know what they’re talking about? That’s, what, a twenty year age gap? Multiply that by ten.”

That shut him up. Timothy sighed again, much more aggressively, but he clicked the white bar and typed in ‘portal gun’ anyway. “Right. Not fucking apologizing, but right. I still don’t fucking know what ‘Twitch’ is.”

“It’s a brief spasmodic contraction of the muscle fibers,” Jon said helpfully. “Fascinatingly, this phenomenon was first observed in frog’s legs before I was even born in 1780, by Luigi Galvani. Erudite man, by the way, but he couldn’t hold his liquor. It was the birth of the study of bioelectricity, although the exact mechanism of muscle contraction eluded scientists for years.”

“Never mind.” Timothy sighed again, the perfect mix of aggravated and long-suffering. It seemed to be the man’s two favorite emotions. “My grandmother has a PhD and she still can’t figure out her cell, either. We had to get her a Jitterbug.”

Amazon, as Timothy explained, was a kind of shopping mall, except you could pick out what you wanted by its picture and have the shopping mall pack it up and send it to you. Jon didn’t quite understand why people preferred this to just going to a shop yourself, seeing as you could get it immediately instead of with a three or four day turnaround, but Tim explained that Amazon was cheaper, had a wider selection, and didn’t make you get off the couch.

“Oh,” Jon said, finally getting it, “this follows the economic model of large scale businesses underpricing their products to undercut smaller businesses in the area, driving them out of business until they hold monopoly over the market and can raise their prices without worrying about staying competitive.”

Timothy stared at him.

“I mean,” he said, “I guess?”

“This explains why my Alexa project was successful so quickly,” Jon mused. “With a lack of competition or alternatives, consumers are more likely to accept the dramatic invasions of privacy as normal. Normalizing intrusions into privacy took ages, but my early efforts paid off very well. The Ring doorbell was even better, along with the line of security and home protection systems. We’re now working on live streamed 24/7 surveillance to social media platforms.”

Timothy stared at him further.

Finally, he said, “Alexa was...you?”

“Of course,” Jon said, baffled. Who else would it be? “I gave Jeff the idea and convinced him it would be profitable. I didn’t understand the whole mechanics of it, but once I gave Jeff a vision from the Witness he was eager to implement the divinely inspired spyware.”

Timothy continued to stare.

“The evil fear god controls Jeff Bezos.”

“He thinks I’m a prophet, actually,” Jon said helpfully. “I let him become Cardinal of the imaginary cult in exchange for funding some of my more esoteric programs. Had him sacrifice a goat and everything, it was great.” At Timothy’s alarmed look, Jon was quick to elaborate, “It was the most evil goat you’ve met in your life. Morally odious.”

“...for my sanity I’m going to pretend that you said none of that.”

In retrospect, although Timothy had worked at the Institute for a few years, it did take quite a bit of time to acclimate to the fact that the Avatars permanently shaped the shape of human existence in order to better feed their gods. Jon knew better than anyone: when humanity made gods, and gods made man, and man made gods...the feedback loop could self-perpetuate for years. Eternity, if needed.

But they had no luck on ‘Amazon’. With Jon’s eidetic memory he was able to easily pick out the one that looked most similar to the one that Martin had showed him, but all of the little toy guns were for someone named ‘Rick’. Then Timothy took twenty laborious minutes explaining the entire plot of ‘Rick & Morty’ to him, which Jon patiently sat through.

“I think young people today deeply enjoy explaining media,” Jon said, once Timothy finished telling him the funny jokes. “I’m very interested in your interests, Timothy.”

“You are so fucking condescending. And please call me Tim, you’re sounding even more like my grandmother.” When Jon brightened, Tim - Tim! - quickly said, “This does not mean we are friends.”

Granted, Jon had never once in his life gave a shit about making friends, but he felt as if he should be making more of an effort with Tim. He was a sort of supernatural brother in law, wasn’t he? Although Sasha perhaps Sasha was more of a favored niece. At least, he would be, if today’s generation found some morality and stopped living in sin.

Good lord. Now he was sounding like Jonah. Georgie used to joke that he was born in the wrong generation - he should have been born a 17th century Puritan instead. Jon found it a very funny joke. Jonah did not.

“Are there any other shopping websites?” Jon asked finally, after Amazon failed them. He’d have to call up Jeff later and complain. “Or is this the only one?”

Tim sighed. “Let’s check Google.”

Quickly and efficiently, yet with many lightning fast detours, Tim found another site called ‘eBay’ - pronounced ‘e-Bay’, not ‘ehbay’ - that listed off exactly what they needed. They weren’t under the toy section, instead listed as something called ‘cosplay’, but Tim seemed highly resistant to explaining that one, so he dropped it.

They picked a likely looking white toy gun that looked the most similar to the one that Martin had liked and Tim talked Jon through punching in the numbers on his card into the website and sorting through the billing and shipping information. Tim helpfully took down the numbers on his card to file later.

“And...done!” Tim said, pressing a button and leaning back. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was ten times as complicated as I thought it would be,” Jon assured him, “but also much more fun. What else can you buy online?”

“Oh, god. What can’t you buy.”

Jon brightened. “Can you buy books?”

“Old Gertrude used to buy Leitners on eBay,” Tim said dully, “so yeah, sure, why not.”

Jon stared at his computer. He carefully navigated the mouse to the big red x and clicked out of the internet browser. “That’s enough of eBay, then, I think.”

Guess he would have to stick to buying Leitners in person. It was no good buying fucked up books from sketchy sources. Always stick to people you trusted, or at least trusted to be themselves. Mikaele was Jon’s favorite supplier since the kid Leitner disappeared, and they had a pleasant working relationship. Mikaele shared his grandfather’s stories about the history and culture of the Maori, and Jon told him which of his haunted artifacts would be the most helpful in the imminent apocalypse.

“Well,” Tim said finally, gently pushing Jon’s laptop away, “that was...something, great bonding session with my local supervillain, please run back to Elias and bother him instead.”

“You were very helpful, Mr. Stoker,” Jon said, as professionally yet paternally as possible. Tim was six years older than his body, so he’s not sure how it came off, but the touch of grey at his temples helped with the dignified air. “And as soon as you start acting like a man and propose to my Archivist, you’ll make an excellent brother in law -”

“Uh, excuse me?”

Jon spun around in his chair to see Sasha and Martin standing at the door, holding doggy bags and looking somewhat flummoxed. Probably confused at the sight of him and Tim having a civil conversation, which admittedly had never happened before. Possibly also confused at how completely mortified Tim looked.

“Who said anything about proposing?” Sasha asked incredulously. “Tim, are you -”

“No! No, god no!” Tim stood up quickly, holding his hands out as if he was placating a raging bull. “Nobody’s been saying anything - I would never do that to you -”

“Oh,” Sasha said frostily, crossing her arms and letting the bags swing, “would you.”

That was a domestic Jon should stay out of, even though he definitely caused it. He and Martin sidled away in tandem, huddling near the back of the Archives as Tim frantically pled for his life.

Sneakily, Jon glanced at Martin out of the corner of his eye. He looked happy. Happy, and just as stressed as he always looked - Jon had never known Martin when he wasn’t constantly stressed out, and he was more than aware that it was his fault.

He looked good, too. Really nice, broad jawline that gave his face a friendly round shape. Just friendly and round in general, it was really handsome. His hair was as nicely short and ruffles as ever. The big glasses were super stylish, and really framed his face well. Really big, broad hands. Jon, who had always been so poky and tall and thin and gaunt, like some kind of haunted scarecrow that lurked through the corners of time, was envious. He wanted some of that softness and gentleness. Really, he wanted some of Martin’s -

“So what were you and Tim doing?” Martin asked. “I didn’t know you knew he existed.”

“You told me his name,” Jon said anxiously. “I don’t forget the things you tell me, you know.”

Martin smiled shyly and him, and Jon found himself smiling back. “It’s pretty good for my ego to hear that I have something to teach the immortal genius.”

“I don’t know,” Jon said, as Sasha yelled in the background, “I’ve been learning a lot lately.”

“Really?” Martin teased. “Anything interesting?”

“Oh,” Jon said, watching the yellow fluorescent light cast Martin’s dim smile in soft relief, “I can think of a few things.”

#my writing #jonathan sims #tim stoker #archivist!sasha #martin blackwood #sasha james #mild homosexual activity and massive old man activity inbound #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic #im posting this at an awkward time so prep for a lot of self rbs

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madpanda75 · 4 years ago

Text

“Taking Chances Part 12: The Aftermath”

See how everyone reacts to Theo’s attack on the reader. Feelings get hurt, relationships are exposed, people shout. This chapter is ALL ANGST and FEELS! 😭

Trigger Warning: This chapter mentions assault and rape.

One thing at a time. That was all you could only focus on. Otherwise the reality of what had just happened would overwhelm you. Just one step at a time as you walked into the precinct with your family, Fin, and Amanda.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Amanda asked.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, having barely spoken since Theo ran out of the gallery that morning. The metallic taste of blood still lingered on your tongue from where he had smacked you.

Liv walked out of her office to greet you and your family, but before she could say anything, your father spoke up. “Please tell me you’re gonna get this bastard.”

“Dom!” your mom scolded

“No! Don’t ‘Dom’ me. That monster assaulted my baby. I could go out there right now and take care of it.”

“Dad! Please!” Bella interjected. “Let the cops do their job!”

“Ok, everyone lets calm down,” Olivia said over the bickering.

Your eyes darted between your sister and parents, arguing over what was best for you in this situation. You felt like a child, small and helpless. You also felt partly responsible for the unnecessary stress and worry your family was feeling right now.

Mustering as much strength as you could, you reached into the darkest depths and found your voice. “I should’ve fought harder!” Your words reverberated around the room. Everyone halted and turned their attention to you. “I should’ve followed Phoebe to the front door. I know how she forgets to lock the door.”

Olivia gently squeezed your shoulder. “You did exactly what you had to do. You survived.”

“She’s right,” Bella chimed in and wrapped her arm around you.

Your mom nodded and ran her fingers through your hair. “I’m just so grateful to God that you’re ok.” She sniffled and kissed you on the cheek. “My patatina.”

Just then a slightly sweaty and out of breath Rafael burst into the precinct. It looked as if he had run all the way from his office. “Y/N!” He pulled you into a tight embrace before realizing that bum rushing you after you had just been assaulted was not the best idea. Wanting to respect your personal space, he immediately jumped back. His eyes scanned your body for any injuries. “Are you ok?”

Tears welled in your eyes. “As well as can be expected.”

With a tentative hand, he reached out and cupped your cheek. You trembled under his touch and wrapped your arms around him. Rafael enveloped you, silently praying to God, the Devil, or whatever Deity existed that kept you safe.

The squad looked at each other in total shock while witnessing the public display of affection between you and Rafael.

Fin subtly turned towards Amanda. “Did you know these two were--”

“Nope,” she murmured. “And from the looks of it neither did Liv.”

“Let’s talk in here,” Olivia said, gently leading you away from Rafael and towards an empty interrogation room.

“Why don’t I get everyone a real cup of coffee other than that sludge they have here,” Rafael offered.

Your mother smiled. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

“I’ll take a latte,” Fin teased only to receive a deadpan stare from Rafael.

While everyone went their separate ways, Amanda and Fin got to work on getting an arrest warrant. “Wow. Barba and Carisi’s younger sister.” Fin shook his head in disbelief.

“That explains why Carisi’s been acting the way he has,” Amanda said while searching on her laptop for Theo’s office building.

“Think Barba gave him the shiner?”

“I don’t know.” Amanda glanced up and saw a frantic Sonny bounding into the precinct. “But here’s your chance to ask him.”

“Where is she? Where’s my sister?” Sonny demanded.

“She’s in there talking to Olivia,” Amanda said. Sonny looked to where his partner was pointing. It was the interrogation room used to talk to victims. Victim. His sister was a victim. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around the concept. Through the window, he could see you sitting in between your mom and Bella while your dad paced back and forth in the background.

He barged into the room without even knocking. “Son, why don’t you wait outside,” your father said, trying to lead Sonny out of the room.

But he side swept him and knelt down in front of you. Tears were streaming down your cheeks. “Y/N, I’m so---”

You pushed Sonny away before he could finish. “I’m going to be sick,” you whimpered and ran to the bathroom. Your sister and mom trailed after you, each giving him a severe look.

Sonny stepped out of the interrogation room and plopped down in his chair, slamming his fist down on the desk so hard the metal rattled beneath his quivering hand.

“Hey,” Fin said. “Don’t sweat it, Carisi. We’re gonna get this creep.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled and reached into his drawer for the Pepto Bismol. The Carisi nerves reared its ugly head. He felt green. His stomach churned with guilt, grief, and whatever was leftover from breakfast.

Rafael stepped back into the bullpen with coffee and bagels from your favorite deli, knowing you probably hadn’t eaten a thing all day. Unfortunately for him, it was another Carisi he found. He brushed past Sonny towards Fin and Amanda. “Where are we with Theo?”

“Just finishing up this arrest warrant. Although it’s gonna be hard to get a judge to sign off on it with so little evidence,” Fin said. Rafael shuddered at the thought of you undergoing a rape kit. Having a SANE nurse poke, scrape, and prod you, searching for DNA, fingerprints, skin, and semen.

“That’s SVU for ya’.” Amanda sighed. “A victim’s word is never good enough.”

Rafael whipped out his cell phone. “I’ll call in some favors at the office. Give them a heads up about the warrant. And for the record, I’m glad there wasn’t a lot of evidence.” He glared at the back of Sonny’s head. “This could’ve been a lot worse.”

Feeling Rafael’s eyes on him, Sonny turned. “What?” he snapped. “Ya’ got somethin’ to say. So just say it.”

“You just couldn’t leave us alone could you?” Rafael shook his head in disgust and started towards the interrogation room to dole out coffee and bagels when Sonny’s voice stopped him.

“What the hell does that mean?” he sneered

Rafael scoffed. “Don’t play naive now. Grow up and realize your actions have consequences.”

Fin watched as the two men provoked each other. “Hey, fellas. Chill.”

Sonny ignored Fin and walked over to Rafael, getting right in his face. “If you think for one second—”

“Guys c’mon,” Amanda chimed in. “ Don’t do this.”

Rafael held his ground. “I think that when you invited Theo you were stupid enough to believe that she would crawl back to him. And because of you that monster almost raped her.”

Sonny’s blood boiled. “How dare you! I love my sister more than anythin’ in this world.”

Rafael let out a mirthless laugh. “Got some way of showing it!”

Everyone stopped their work and began inching closer towards the two men to get a prime view of the potential fight. Some of the junior officers had their phones out ready to capture the action. All eyes of the precinct were on Rafael and Sonny.

Sensing this was seconds away from coming to blows, Fin stepped in. “Barba, that’s enough!”

Rafael eluded Fin’s attempt to keep the peace and continued, “I don’t care if she is your sister. I love that woman more than anything in this world and I will do anything to protect her. Especially since her brother doesn’t know how to.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Your voice pierced the air, causing everything and everyone to come to a screeching stop.

Rafael took a step toward you. “Y/N, I’m--”

“No!” you interrupted. “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take this fighting. If you can’t behave like civilized human beings then get out!” You pushed past the small crowd that had formed and went back into the interrogation room with your mom and sister.

Amanda clapped her hands. “Alright, guys. Show’s over.” As the crowd dispersed she went back to her desk, raising her brow in a manner that said, ‘Serves you boys right.’

Rafael cleared his throat and sat in an empty chair while Sonny went over to his desk. The two men were silent with Rafael staring at his phone and Sonny chugging more Pepto Bismol. Being scolded in front of the entire precinct was enough humiliation to suffer through for one day.

One hour later and the interrogation room door opened. “Is she ok?” Sonny asked Bella.

“She was just assaulted by her ex. How do ya’ think she is?” Bella snapped.

“Bella!” your mom reprimanded before turning to her son. “Give your sister some time. She’ll come around.” She kissed his cheek and left.

The minute you came out Rafael popped up out of his chair. He had been acting like an expectant father, pacing the floor and waiting. “Do you need anything? How’d it go?”

“Ok,” you said with a shrug. “I’m gonna go home with my folks. I’ll call you later.”

Rafael nodded. A cocktail of terror, relief, and anger etched into his face. You gave him a half smile. It was the most emotion you could muster. As you walked away, both of you knew that after today your relationship would never be the same.

****

The hours may have ticked by, but for Sonny time stood still. While Rafael and the others had left, he hadn’t moved from his desk.

“What are you still doing here?” Olivia asked when she stepped out of her office, surprised to see him alone and staring off into space rather than at home.

“My family hates me,” he softly said.

Olivia sighed and pulled up a chair. “No they don’t.”

“I didn’t...I mean when I invited Theo...I never thought…” He couldn’t finish his train of thought, a lump rising in his throat which he bitterly swallowed back down. The words that Rafael spit at him earlier still stung. Although it was nothing compared to the guilt and shame he felt.

“Hey, this is not your fault,” Olivia sternly said. “You can’t think like that.”

Sonny studied his scuffed shoes and nodded his head when he heard Theo’s voice. “Watch it will ya’! That’s police brutality!”

“Keep moving,” Fin said, leading your ex-fiance into the precinct with Amanda following behind.

In an instant Sonny lunged at Theo, gripping him by the collar and shoving him against the wall. “You sonofabitch!” he growled. “You attacked my little sister!”

Fin tried to separate the two men, but he was no match for Sonny, who’s anger gave him almost superhuman strength.

“Hey! Get off me, man!” Theo exclaimed and tried to wrench free from the vice-like grip his friend had on him.

Sonny slammed Theo’s head into the wall again, so hard that it practically vibrated around the room. “I trusted you with her!”

“Someone help!” Theo shouted. It took several officers to get Sonny off him.

“Ya’ know, I could sue the NYPD for this,” Theo said as he was led to the cage.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, go ahead and try that after you’re found guilty of assault and attempted rape.”

Before Olivia or anyone else could reprimand Sonny for his behavior, he grabbed his jacket and left, unable to stand being in the same room as your attempted rapist.

****

Not wanting to be alone in your apartment, you ended up spending the night at your parents’ house. As you laid in bed in your childhood bedroom, staring up at old boyband posters, you thought of Theo. How many memories you had shared in this room. From endless games of Bop-It when you were kids to sneaky makeout sessions during your teen years, always ready to split apart in case your mom came barging in.

It was amazing how much life had changed since then. How much Theo had changed. From the sweet innocent boy next door to a conniving monster. Perhaps that evil streak was always in him, kept well hidden in the darkest corners of his being, but over time became more difficult to conceal. Until today when that mask he wore so well, fell and revealed his true self.

As hard as it was, you tried not to waste too much energy thinking about the happenings of today, especially when you had Rafael. You tried to call him several times that night, but every attempt ended with your thumb hovering over the call button before eventually giving up.

You didn’t know what to say, and in reality you didn’t want to say anything. You wanted to go back to when life was simpler. To when life was easy. But there was no going back, so instead you shoved your phone under the pillow and tried to sleep.

*****

Since you had never called Rafael, you weren’t too surprised to find him standing outside your apartment building the next morning when Teresa dropped you off. “Want me to go in with you?” she asked.

“No, that’s ok. I need to speak to Rafael in private.”

As you stepped out of the car, Teresa smiled and waved at your boyfriend. “Poor bastard,” she muttered to herself.

“Hi,” Rafael said,

“Hi,” you replied. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t call last night so I came to check on you.” He followed you inside and into the elevator. You wanted to scream at him to stop being so damn nice, to stop making this harder than it had to be, but instead you were silent.

When you got to your door, you hesitated. What if Theo was in there. Of course, you knew that was nonsensical. Fin and Amanda had arrested him last night; however, that did nothing to quell your fear.

Noticing your reluctance, Rafael spoke up, “Do you want me to check?”

“No,” you said before sighing in defeat. “Yes, please.” You waited outside for several minutes before he came out and gave you the all clear.

Rafael had intended to spend the day doing whatever you wanted to do whether that was to sit and talk or just to hold you while you cried. Instead, he followed you into your bedroom and watched you pull out a suitcase and begin to pack.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Packing,” you replied. Rafael crossed his arms and arched his brow, not in the mood for your sarcasm, especially since he was up all night worried sick. “I’m taking off work for a while so I’m going over to my sister’s place. I can’t stay here alone right now.”

Rafael followed you around the bedroom like a lost puppy as you moved from the dresser to the bathroom and back. “You can stay at my place if you want.”

“You have work,” you said.

“I know, but I can easily work from home right now if you need me.” He sauntered up behind you and started to massage your shoulders only to have you jump a mile high and flinch away from his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he said and immediately stepped away from you. As you continued to stuff your suitcase, Rafael began to get a funny feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. A premonition that something was coming. “Are you ok?”

You began to shake and it was only after a moment that Rafael realized it was because you were laughing. “Am I ok?” Your laugh grew stronger until it was maniacal. “I was just assaulted! My family is falling apart! My life is falling apart! I am not ok!”

You grabbed a photo of your family from your nightstand and threw it as hard as you could, watching it hit the wall and fall to the ground, the glass shattering. It felt good to unleash your anger, addicting almost. Your hand trembled from the adrenaline. Soon you were tearing apart your bedroom: throwing clothes, tugging the curtains off their rods, knocking a vase and art books off your dresser. Rafael stood there in silence while you had your tantrum, figuring you needed to release your pent up emotions after such a harrowing experience.

Once you had exhausted yourself, you collapsed on the bed out of breath. “I think we should take a break.”

At your admission, Rafael’s heart stopped. “Excuse me?”

“I think we should take a break,” you repeated.

Rafael felt completely blindsided. He had expected there would be some tough times ahead given Theo and the assault, but he was not prepared for this. “Why?”

You let out a breath and hoped Rafael would understand. “I need to be on my own right now,” you explained. “I need space to clear my head and battle my demons. I need to learn how to take care of this myself.”

“We take care of each other. That’s what a relationship is.”

“What about work? I saw the looks of the squad’s faces when they realized we were together.”

Your words sliced through Rafael, exposing his deepest insecurities. “I thought you didn’t care what people thought about us,” he quietly said.

Unable to face him and see the pain in his eyes, you focused on tugging a hangnail instead. “I don’t, but I don't want to ruin your career and if we’re together that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

There was silence between you both as Rafael tried to process your words. He ran a hand over his face and braced himself against the wall before kneeling down in front of you. “This is just temporary, right? Things will calm down and then we’ll be back together.”

You shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure. To be honest I’m not sure of anything right now.”

Rafael scoffed. “Let me guess, this is one of those ‘Don’t call me, I’ll call you’ kind of things, right?”

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled.

“I’m sorry. I just...I was willing to fight for us. To fight for you. I thought you felt the same way. But I was very very wrong.” Having nothing more to say, Rafael stood up and left.

You remained sitting on the bed, listening to his footsteps move down the hall, farther and farther away. It was only when you heard the door close that you gave yourself permission to cry.

Not wanting to be in this place another minute, you grabbed your suitcase and left, leaving your bedroom a disaster. Teresa was waiting for you outside. You stuffed your suitcase in the back of her car and hopped into the passenger seat. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked when she noticed you crying.

You shook your head and looked out the side view mirror as she drove away. Through your tears you could’ve sworn you saw Rafael walking down the street, his figure getting smaller and smaller until he blended in with the crowd and then there was nothing.

Tag List:

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unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix · 3 years ago

Text

Truth and Awakenings Ch. 9

Summary: A Jemily rewrite of certain scenes in 14x15 and the first few episodes of season 15, with a few additional scenes :)

Chapter summary: JJ and Emily go on a last-minute planned, late night date.

Read on AO3

It was a late Saturday night, but Tara, JJ, Luke, and Penelope had finished the case early with one of Penelope’s workshop attendees as the target victim of their prime suspect. Emily had a headache from dealing with her ex-neighbor, who thought there was something more to the FBI than they led on. On the ride to the hospital to meet Kristy and Matt there, she had complained to JJ about the awful Saturday she had and begged that their date would save the day. The blonde only gave her a sympathetic smile as a response.

Right now, JJ and Emily had just exited the hospital after congratulating Matt and Kristy for the birth of their fifth child.

“Do you really think they’ll stop at five?” Emily asked, walking in the parking lot and feeling JJ lace her fingers with hers.

JJ shrugged. “Who knows? They are an attractive couple.”

Emily raised an eyebrow at her. “And what does that make us? I mean, I don’t think I have the ability to make you pregnant.”

JJ snorted at the joke. “Well, I wasn’t planning on having more kids after my boys, at least, not giving birth any time soon.”

“Would you have considered it, though? Having more kids, I mean,” Emily asked quietly and seriously.

“If it was with you, I would. Now,” she brought Emily’s hand up to her lips. “I believe I owe you a date. A proper one, this time.”

Emily beamed lovingly at her, blushing at the gesture. “Yes. Where are we going?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“JJ!” Emily whined. “I told you, no surprises. Come on, please.”

JJ kissed her cheek. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“Don’t I get to change first?” Emily frowned down at her outfit. She was wearing a black work dress underneath a blue/grey jacket and black heels.

JJ followed her eyes and smiled. “It’s better if you stay the way you are.”

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

JJ had planned a last minute small intimate picnic for Emily and herself. She did some late-night grocery shopping and bought things needed for their date in her backyard. She opted for her backyard as the date setting since she had to cancel dinner plans at Emily’s favorite Italian restaurant.

She was a little sad that a busy day at work made her put her plans for a whole day spent with Emily on hold. While working beside Tara on the case, JJ told her she and Emily were supposed to have their date today, but was instead stuck with a Twitch streamer who had quite the sex life. JJ was disgusted by the evidence they had of it, that she kept counting the minutes until she saw her girlfriend’s beautiful face again, to erase the horrors she faced today.

“So…” JJ started, holding a bottle of wine in her hand. “Since we had a case today, I had to cancel the reservation, but I did manage to get us sandwiches, a few snacks, and wine for us. And Will still has the boys, so we are finally alone.”

“Finally,” Emily exhaled in relief, sitting on the blanket they set down on the grass. “No interruptions.” She gently pulled JJ by the wrist and onto her lap, surprising the blonde. JJ wrapped her arms around Emily’s neck with a smile and kissed her, while holding the wine bottle in her hands.

Emily’s lips moved to her neck, and JJ lightly pushed her away, scooting beside her. “Come on. Let’s eat,” JJ said, taking the contents out of the picnic basket. She took out two deli sandwiches, a small container of veggies, some crackers and a cheese platter.

“Wow,” Emily chuckled and looked at the food in front of her. “You really went all out.”

JJ just shrugged and opened the wine bottle with a corkscrew, pouring the wine inside two glasses. Handing one to Emily, they both raised their glasses with a clink before taking a sip of their beverages.

JJ looked up at Emily from her glass, swallowing before she spoke up. "Emily, listen. I'm sorry this didn't go as planned…"

Emily shook her head. "Don't worry." She took JJ's hand in hers and smiled. "I really like this."

"But, well- it's because I thought you wanted-" JJ frowned, feeling disappointed in herself. She really wanted to impress Emily. Even after knowing each other for such a long time, JJ was still nervous about how she would please the woman.

Emily lightly laughed. "JJ, relax. Stop putting yourself down. It's nice to go outside of luxury every now and then. You know my whole life isn't always like that, right?"

JJ shook her head. "No, of course not. I'm really sorry. It's just-" she sighed and looked away from Emily. "I'm really nervous about this, Emily. Not about our relationship! I mean, planning this. Our first date. I just wanted this to be special, you know? I'm sorry, you know what? I'm probably messing this up…" she rambled.

"Hey. No, you're not, JJ," Emily reassured. "I'm used to a lot of my dates taking me to some extravagant, five-star restaurant, and I felt like I was back at my mother's galas all over again. They were nice- well, some of them, but I think I need a break from all that. So, a late-night picnic’s a nice change of pace.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

JJ started to smile, feeling a little relieved. “So, what do you want to start off first?”

“Sandwiches,” Emily pointed with a finger. “I’m starving.” JJ picked up the sandwiches and handed one to her. Unwrapping it and taking a satisfying bite, Emily closed her eyes and moaned. “God, I needed this. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, it was this or microwaving dino nuggets and calling it dinner.” JJ took another sip of her wine after her sentence.

Emily dramatically gasped. “You mean, you guys had dino nuggets and didn’t tell me?! JJ, I thought you loved me. Why would you keep such a secret from me?” She pouted at her girlfriend.

JJ tilted her head back with a laugh. “You should remind me the next time you come over to spend time with me and the boys,” she winked at her, earning a smile from Emily.

They fell to a silence with only their quiet munching of their food. It wasn’t as awkward as they both had expected, especially since they both knew each other for such a long time and were already so close. It was comfortable with a few stolen glances at each other and small talk in between bites. Not much has changed, but they were ok with it.

“Wait. I almost forgot something,” JJ said, checking inside the basket with a frown before finally finding the item she was looking for. "Ah, here we go!"

Emily gasped as she saw the small square red box with a little white ribbon tied to it. "Is that-"

"Yep." JJ said with a smile, opening the box, revealing it to be pieces of chocolate inside.

"You really do love me." Emily sighed happily, eyes twinkling with adoration. She reached a hand out to grab a piece, but was met with a head shake from her girlfriend. Emily frowned at her. "What was that?"

JJ smirked, grabbing one in between her thumb and index finger. "Open."

Emily nearly blushed at the command and slowly dropped her mouth open. JJ fed her the piece and closed her mouth with her fingers. She softly kissed her cheek and Emily started chewing, blushing even harder.

JJ stared at her with a loving smile and tucked some hair behind Emily’s ear. “You’re so cute.” She loved seeing the effect she had on the older woman at this very moment. Her cheeks were still tinted pink and she had a mix of surprise and confusion in her eyes.

Emily swallowed down the sweet treat and smiled back. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring a pack of cheetos tonight. I would’ve returned the favor.”

JJ shrugged. “I decided to retire it for the night.”

“Really? I thought you could never live without them,” Emily teased.

“Well, I don’t think it would be fair to have two of my loves on this date,” JJ joked before staring up at the night sky. The stars were scattered around, and the moon was full and shining in the corner of JJ’s eye. She smiled, “Emily, you remember Roslyn, right?”

“Yeah, why?” Emily grabbed another piece of chocolate and tilted her head up to see what her girlfriend was looking at.

“We used to go outside at night whenever one of us was dealing with something,” she started explaining, turning her attention back to Emily. “My parents argued a lot before she died, so Ros and I would take a breather and look at the sky. We’d talk our problems out and just admire the world around us. You know, get lost in it. Escape from reality. We both made a promise that if we were ever apart, we'd go outside when the moon was full, look up into the sky, and we’d be looking at the same thing. And we’d never be apart.”

“Wow,” Emily breathed out, looking up again. “I never knew that.”

JJ nodded and stared straight ahead. “Yeah,” she sighed. “I still do it to this day. Like after we got back from East Allegheny.” She bit her lip and shook her head with an almost bitter smile, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “I looked up at the sky and said, ‘Hey, Ros. We caught Mr. Howard. That sick son of a bitch.’” With a small sniffle, JJ looked up again. “I really miss her.”

Emily had her attention on the other woman and nodded in sympathy. “You must have,” she smiled softly. “She meant a lot to you, huh?”

Sniffling again, JJ answered quietly. “Yeah.” After a few more seconds had gone by, she shook her head and wiped her tears away with a small puff of breath. “Anyways, uh… sorry about all that. I didn’t mean to get so emotional on our first date.” JJ nervously wiped her hands on her jeans.

“No. I get it.” Emily said and placed a hand on her arm, squeezing it. JJ scooted closer to her and rested her head against her shoulder. The older woman instinctively put an arm around JJ and held her close.

They took this moment to enjoy the silence and warmth of each other’s presence. JJ loved how easy it seemed between the two of them, after thinking about how she was going to mess this up with Emily. Emily smiled to herself and kissed blonde hair. She was so grateful to have JJ with her, right next to her. It felt like a dream come true and she didn’t want it to end.

“So, how about you?” JJ asked, turning her head slightly to look at Emily.

“Me?”

“When you were younger?”

Emily snorted and shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t think you’d want to know.”

“Come on,” JJ playfully poked her side with a smile. “Because I don’t believe you were ever a bad influence. You’re too good for that, Emily,” she said sincerely. She remembered Emily saying once that her friends’ parents thought she was a bad person because of the things she had done when she was younger, and she refused to believe that is true.

Emily shook her head and waved a hand, looking down at her lap. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not. Emily, look at me,” JJ softly said and the other woman obeyed. “I know there’s more to you than you lead on. I want to know the real you. You don’t have to lay everything down on the table right now, but I’m curious to learn about you.”

The grey-haired woman reluctantly nodded after sipping her wine and nervously setting it down on the picnic blanket. JJ looked at her with soft and attentive eyes, patiently waiting for her to speak.

“I didn’t pay people to do my homework for me when I was younger,” she began. “Never bullied anyone for it either. It was bad enough that my mom and I pretended she wasn’t ‘helping’ me with my tuition, so I did all my assignments, spent most of my time in libraries, took a lot of notes, even asked for extra credit.”

“Did you ever take a break in between them?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. But we were always on the move, so it was hard for me to really settle down and make any friends. In fact, the only true friend I had growing up was Matthew,” Emily smiled sadly. “I really miss him.”

JJ nodded in understanding and gently took Emily’s hand in hers to squeeze it. She knew what that feeling was like herself.

Emily shook her head to distract herself. “I’m sorry. Now, I’m being emotional.”

“It’s ok,” JJ assured. “We can move on, if you’d like.” She figured it was a sensitive subject for Emily, and didn’t want to push her, but she was glad that she was opening up at least.

Emily nodded with gratitude and relief. She thinks she's not entirely ready for that conversation just yet. “Ok. I’m actually really, uh, decent in math.”

An eyebrow raise came from the other woman. “Decent?”

Emily looked down with a small blush and mumbled. “I could recite the numbers of pi.”

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me I’m on another date with Spence,” she jokingly groaned and laughed.

Emily scoffed, followed by a pout. “I don’t know if I should be offended by that statement.”

“No, no,” JJ’s giggles began to subside and she faced Emily. “I love you for you.” She paused before saying with an affectionate grin, “My crazy hot nerd.”

Emily raised an eyebrow at her and scooted closer to JJ. She needed to bring her confidence back for a moment. “Can any other nerd do this?”

She softly pressed her lips against JJ’s, tracing her tongue over the blonde’s bottom lip and tilting her head. After about five more seconds, Emily felt her shiver and heard a light gasp, so she pulled away with a smirk, watching JJ blindly chase after her mouth.

“That was mean,” JJ pouted.

Emily smiled. “I love you, too. Anyways, let’s go back to you,” she held her hand and ran her thumb over her knuckles.

“What do you want to hear?”

Emily let out an exhale as she thought about what she wanted to ask her. "Have you ever done anything rebellious when you were younger? Gone behind your parents' backs?" she asked with a smirk.

JJ leaned back on her palms and sighed. "Depends on how you look at it," she answered honestly.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I grew up in a small town, so word spreads around fast. I used to sneak out of the house. My mom barely cared enough to notice, so I did that pretty often," JJ said and her lips formed a tight line for a second. "I'd drive around, blasting Rage Against The Machine or Foo Fighters through the speakers. I don't know… just something about having a sense of freedom and the rush I get whenever I'm on the road." She chuckled before blushing, "I think I developed a bad habit of speeding over time."

Emily gave an amused chuckle. "My little rebel." She imagined a young JJ in an old, beat-up convertible with the windows down, speeding down a highway. "You listened to rock music?"

JJ nodded. "I had a collection of CDs in my car. I hid them from my mom because she thought I was listening to the devil’s music, which isn’t true. I don't think she knows I still have them.”

"I thought you were into more of the softer stuff." Emily had an amused look on her face upon learning this fact. "Seems like we both have another thing in common."

"What did you listen to?" JJ decided to turn the tables on her.

"Joan Jett, The Cure, probably M��tley Crüe,“ Emily answered with a small shrug. "It eventually calmed down sometime in college." She began to realize a small detail in her response and laughed. "Oh god, I think I just realized how old I am."

JJ laughed with her and shook her head reassuringly. "It's alright," she said and twirled a piece of Emily's grey hair in between her fingers. Leaning closer to her ear, she whispered, “I don’t know if you know this, but I have a bit of a thing for older women.”

“You do, huh?” the other woman remarked, drinking her wine. “Ok, tell me. Was it a college professor? A friend’s mom?”

Looking down, JJ shook her head and smirked. “I’m not divulging any of that information to you right now.”

Emily let out a little laugh and put her hands up in surrender. “Ok, ok. Alright. I won’t make you say, but you’re going to have to tell me eventually.”

“Moving on,” JJ exclaimed with a blush. "I told you what made me attracted to you. So, what about you?”

Emily stared into little baby blues and smiled lovingly. “Your eyes,” she said. “I could get lost in them for days. Years, even,” she softly admitted and continued staring, catching JJ’s now pink cheeks and small upward twitches at the corners of her mouth. “The way they soften when you look out for someone and how they light up when you’re happy.”

The blonde tried to form a comeback, but found herself stumbling over her words and rapidly blinking her eyes, glancing away from Emily. Emily tilted her head to the side and still smiled at the flustered woman.

She finally found the courage to speak. “Who knew Emily Prentiss was such a romantic?” she recovered with a joke.

Emily shrugged. “I try.”

JJ put her head on Emily’s shoulder and looked up at the stars again. Emily pulled away a little and shrugged off her jacket. JJ saw what she was doing and her eyes widened.

“Oh, no. Emily, you don’t have to-”

She shook her head. “I insist.” Placing the jacket over the younger woman’s shoulders, she pulled her close into her right side while leaning back on her left palm.

JJ tugged on the given clothing and let out a sigh of contentment. She chuckled, “Your romantic side is showing a lot right now, you know?”

“Hey, it’s our first date!” Emily playfully defended. “I want to make sure my girlfriend’s happy.”

JJ smiled and glanced back up. “I already am,” she whispered with almost watery eyes.

I forgot to tag lol: @jemilyisms @binariesarebullshit

#jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic #criminal minds

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

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oh my GOD mechanicfam is god tier just may i present an au where tony adopts harley after his mom and sister die in a car crash (post-mandarin) and so tony's the only person harley knows to go to and harley's the thing that makes rhodey and tony get their HEADS out of their ASSES

Harley keeps the business card that was left on the workshop of his house. He kept it in a kitchen drawer that his mom never used, because it full of the “nice” dish towels that were only taken out come Christmastime.

His fingers shake as he grips the phone, punching in the numbers.

“Can I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s...um. Harley. Keener. From Tennessee.”

There’s a shift on the phone, and Harley feels a bit guilty because it is late, but he doesn’t know where else to turn.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Um. I need help.”

“With what?”

And that’s when Harley loses it. He can barely enunciate the words, and he’s trying to furiously wipe away tears as he hears a litany of curses over the other line.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and I don’t know what to do, and-”

“Kid, don’t you worry. I’ll be there in...two hours. Hell, maybe one if I can break the sound barrier. You have anything to eat yet?”

“Um, no?”

“Okay, then we stop for food when we get home.”

“Home?”

“...we’ll talk when I get there.”

Tony, in all honesty, does not know what he’s doing. God knows he had two stellar examples of parenting from Howard and Maria.

But he knows that a kid like Harley will get torn apart, and he...he can’t let him do that.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes,” Tony says. “I’m sure. We’ll...I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“You act like I’m not going to help you,” Rhodey says. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. You have a way of transporting him back?”

“Already ordered a car to the airport, we’ll be taking a plane back home.”

“Bring him back safe.”

“Always.”

Harley collapses into Tony’s arms when he touches down, armor barely off.

“Please,” he sobs. “Please just get me out of here.”

Tony wasn’t going into the situation blind. He had seen the article from their newspaper about the crash.

Harley said he had been riding his bike. Abbie really wanted to get a burger, and he hadn’t wanted to go.

“They would still be here if I had gone,” Harley says bitterly, and Tony’s heart has a pang of hurt because he understands that feeling all too well. But right now, Harley doesn’t need someone to understand everything, he just needs to be cared for.

Tony sits down with him at a kitchen table and doesn’t miss how Harley stares at the two chairs across from them.

“I want to talk with you,” he says quietly. “I want to know what you want to do.”

Harley looks at him.

“I...I wasn’t really expecting you to come.”

“We’re connected,” Tony says, a soft smile on his face. “I always will, whenever you want. Now, I’m just here to help you figure out what you want.”

“...what are the options?”

Tony’s willing to go through hell and back for this kid. He doesn’t tell him this verbatim, but the sentiment is there. He’d be willing to do anything, so long as he could see Harley safe and happy wherever he was.

Harley sits outside for a moment, breathing.

And then he can’t breathe.

Abbie’s looking up at the night sky, smiling.

“It’ll always be like this, right Harls?”

“Right,” Harley says, smiling nice and easy. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to us.”

Except he did.

It was all over the news, and everyone knew about it.

He comes back in, and Tony can probably tell that he’s at his absolute worst.

“I can’t stay here. I-I need to leave. Now.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

Driving in the car is a mostly silent affair. Tony hums along to AC/DC and tells Harley about new projects.

Their first rest stop, Tony goes out with Harley, watching him carefully.

“I’m not gonna break,” Harley snaps.

“Not saying you’re gonna.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Okay. Rhodey’s at the house waiting for us when we get there.”

“He on leave?”

Tony nods. “Three months. Lucky.”

“Yeah.”

Not a lot after that.

At some point, Harley dozes off, leaning his head against the door.

Tony sends a message to Rhodey when they’re boarding the plane. Harley’s still a little groggy, and mostly content to just blearily go and find a seat and pass out.

He sleeps the whole flight home, and Tony is left with his thoughts.

Thought One: Maybe he Should’ve Left This Alone.

Thought Two: He needs to answer Pepper’s email regarding the press conferences and publicity things, get that all worked out.

Thought Three: He hopes Rhodey has some sort of food ready.

Rhodey sees Tony and Harley stumbling in, and he’s struck for a moment by just how similarly they carry themselves, how Harley’s eyes dart around like Tony’s did when he first moved into their dorm.

“Hi,” Rhodey says. “You hungry?”

“Um.”

“We’ll sit down anyways,” Tony says. “Planes are the worst, Harley. They zap all your energy no matter how long you sit on your ass.”

Rhodey sends Tony a look that says “you should probably watch your language.”

Tony sends back a look that says “now’s not the time to discuss my behaviors.”

Harley sleeps.

He’s surprised he does, because he wakes up about nine hours later, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve this long of sleep. He gets slammed with the current news of his life all over again, and his lips tremble as he gets out of a bed that he thinks is too nice for him, and stares into a mirror.

“Mr. Keener?”

Harley jumps.

“...is that you, Jarvis?”

“It is indeed, Mr. Keener. An honor to make your acquaintance, Sir has told me so much about you.”

“Please tell me he didn’t tell you about the potato gun.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

Harley grins up at where the voice emanates.

“Your presence is required for breakfast, if that is alright.”

“That’s...that’s fine.”

He’s not hungry, but Rhodey slides him a plate of toast and eggs.

“Try to eat as much as you can,” he says. “Tony can finish off the rest, if he ever comes down from his bed.”

Harley nods, nibbling on the toast.

“You want jam or anything? We have grape, and...only grape. This peach looks questionable.”

Harley snorts.

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“No problem.”

They eat in awkward but companionable silence, and finally Harley speaks.

“Tony said you’re on leave for three months.”

“I got lucky,” Rhodey says, grinning. “I get to stay here with you guys for longer than three weeks. A full guarantee, unless of aliens.”

“They’re that much of a concern?” Harley asks, eyebrows raised.

“Only at high levels,” Rhodey says, giving him a lazy wink. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

“If anything, you would hear it from me,” Tony says, wrapped up in a gaudily-patterned robe. “Hello dearest, hello little one.”

“I’m not little,” Harley grumbles.

“You are shorter than me, you are little.”

“For now. Doc said I’m supposed to be over six feet.”

“Hm, we’ll see,” Tony says. “But enough about that. We have to have a little chat.”

Harley’s heart leaps with anxiety. When adults talk about having a chat, or talking, it’s...well. It’s never a walk in the park. Or a jog for that matter, either.

“What about?”

“How we can help you.”

Harley sighs, burrowing deep in his seat.

“We have to talk about this?”

“Yeah, we do.”

Harley gets set up with a therapist who he’s not sure he likes yet, but so far she’s been pretty nice. A bit of a mess, because she comes into their second session late and with iced coffee.

“Oh shit, I should’ve asked you if you wanted something,” Joan says, fretting. “Um, hi Harley. How are we doing?”

“Um, fine? I guess? For someone who’s dealing with a lot of change?”

“Oh, that’s great to hear. Do you mind...?” She breathes for a minute. “There was a really cute girl in the elevator for the dentist office above me, and I had to avoid her so that I wouldn’t talk about things and ruin things, so I took the stairs. Do you mind if I just drink my coffee for a moment?”

“...knock yourself out.”

So they sit there for a few moments, while Joan catches her breath and Harley wonders if he can text her his coffee order later.

“Alright, let’s talk you, Harley.”

Therapy goes well. As well as it can go, honestly.

And Harley? Well, he settles.

And he notices things.

Rhodey is still with them, two months and three weeks in. This is his last week, and Tony is miserable although he won’t say anything.

Harley notices how Tony will automatically move closer to Rhodey, and Rhodey welcomes him into his space as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They bicker at each other, but Rhodey slides scrambled eggs onto Tony’s plate as he argues, and Tony leans over and grabs the coffee mug that Rhodey favors.

Apparently, they’re not together.

This leaves Harley very confused.

Tony gets all flustered and in denial when he asks about it.

“Why would...why would he...why would he be with me?” Tony asks, moving around the kitchen. “He has more to life than that. Now come on, get your shopping list together, kiddo. I’m not gonna hear you complain for another week that we didn’t get your pumpkin-carving-coffee-creamer-whatever.”

“It’s pumpkin spice, and you would know that because you pretend like you don’t use it.”

“We’ll get two bottles this time,” Rhodey says, only coming in on the tail-end of the conversation. “Tony, babe, remember to get the provolone slices when we’re there for the deli sandwiches.”

“Got it, honey.”

Harley stares.

They’re so...domestic.

Harley hasn’t seen that often. Certainly didn’t see it with his parents before his dad left, and his mother...she didn’t get to have that with anyone else afterwards. And his sister, oh god-

“Kiddo, you okay?” Rhodey asks. His hand is on Harley’s shoulder, eyes full of concern. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just...just thinking about my mom. And my sister.”

Rhodey brings him into a hug.

Harley breathes in and out for a moment, absorbing the clean smell of Rhodey’s shirt and focusing on the touch.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be fine. Let’s go, before Tony gets to choose the car and we have to fit fifteen bags into a Maserati.”

“Then we’ll have to leave you at the store,” Rhodey teases. “Let’s see if we can get a rational car.”

Grocery shopping is...it’s nice. It’s one of Harley’s favorite things to do, as boring and uninteresting as that may be.

He mostly just likes watching Tony and Rhodey do it. It’s entertainment, and they’re so practiced together.

Harley isn’t sure if his mom and his sister are still looking on, but he always gets their favorite snacks, just in case. He puts a bag of hot fries and a carton of strawberries into the cart, and then he grins as he finds Tony and Rhodey still arguing over whether or not they should get two bundles of green onions for the Wednesday dinner or not.

“Come on dad,” Harley says, throwing the extra bundle into the cart. “It’ll be good, and we can probably make some sort of soup garnish for the end.”

He moves the cart, and he doesn’t even see how Tony and Rhodey stare after him.

“So obviously, I’m dad,” Tony says. “That’s me.”

“Or is it?” Rhodey asks, faking suspicion. “We don’t know until a full investigation is launched.”

“Oh full investigation my ass,” Tony says. “Come on, before he leaves us in the dust and ends up getting far too many packages of candy.”

“Like you minded, heathen.”

Tony pushes off the grocery cart, and Rhodey has to smile for a moment.

He’s going to miss this. He only has a few days left, and then he’s back and he’s alone, and he’s not alone, but he...

Rhodey always misses Tony. He’s tried to convince himself over the years that it’s just what best friends do, but he doesn’t think that best friends think of each other in the way that he thinks of Tony.

And now there’s Harley.

Harley, who is so much like Tony, and so good. He smiles, and he jokes, and Rhodey now can’t imagine life without him.

He doesn’t want to miss out on a thing, honestly. They’ve already joked about teaching him to drive in New York traffic.

And he wants to come home. He has his own place in New York, honest to god doesn’t know why he pays rent on it since Tony usually has him stay over anyways. He should sub-let or rent it or sell it. That’d be common sense.

Dinner goes well. Both Rhodey and Harley have a good rhythm in the kitchen, even with Harley’s questionable music taste and Rhodey’s inability to follow a recipe.

“People who follow recipes are chumps,” Rhodey says, dumping more garlic powder into the mixture. “Never follow a recipe.”

“We can call your mother and ask about the blueberry crumble incident of 1997,” Tony says innocently. “If you want to rehash how well that advice went for you. I recall a nearly-burned-down-house?”

Rhodey scowls, turning to Harley.

“Don’t listen to a word this man has ever said, he is an unlovable scamp.”

“Oh really?” Harley says. “Seems to suit you just fine, right?”

Rhodey momentarily pauses, and then grins.

“I suppose you’re right.”

All too right.

They eat dinner, and Tony as well as Rhodey make no mention of what’s going to happen come Saturday morning.

At least, until Harley does, because Harley does things like ask questions.

“So. When are you going for your next mission?” Harley asks. “And where?”

“Classified, and seven a.m. bright and early Saturday morning,” Rhodey states. “You gonna get out of bed in time to see me off?”

“Mm, we’ll think about it,” Tony says, biting into the pasta. “The beds are awfully comfy...”

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey whines. “Just for that, I get to choose the movie, and I’m choosing the not-movie. I’m choosing the BBC Pride and Prejudice.”

“You suck,” Tony groans. “If you weren’t a gorgeous man, I would have kicked you out decades earlier.”

“You make us sound ancient.”

“That’s because you two geezers are,” Harley says, taking his dish to the sink. “Come on, I totally dibs on getting the mint candies.”

“Absolutely not, you stole them all last, at least let us portion them out,” Tony says.

“Do we not live as a family? Can we no longer share things?” Harley cries out dramatically, draping his body across the couch. “Am I reduced to nothing but a pretty face?”

“I don’t know where you get your dramatics from,” Rhodey deadpans. “Truly, I don’t.”

Harley pokes his tongue out, and gestures for them to come over.

“We can wash dishes later, we need to see if Mr. Darcy comes back,” Harley says.

“You know he does,” Tony says, looking over at Rhodey. “He always will.”

It means...something. They’re not sure what, and they’re not going to ask each other while Harley is busy commandeering the couch and wiggling his way into getting the best blanket.

Tony on one side, Rhodey on the other, although the latter is busy popping popcorn and thinking.

He doesn’t even really want to go. He signed up for this tour, and he wasn’t honestly thinking it was going to be his last, but with Harley now, and with how life is going...would it be a bad thing?

Tony’s always wanted him to do at least consulting work for SI, and he could semi-retire comfortably...

“Honey-darling!” Tony calls, “the ETA on popcorn? I’m getting desperate!”

Harley sends Tony a sneaky look, and looks back towards the movie.

“You should remind Rhodey to get chocolate chips,” Harley says. “You know he likes them.”

“Of course I know that, how do you know that?”

“You usually get the popcorn,” Harley says with a shrug. “I know what you know about him. And you know a lot, don’t you?”

“I...I suppose,” Tony says, getting up.

Harley settles into his spot on the couch.

Tony comes up to Rhodey.

“Remember your chocolate chips,” Tony says.

Rhodey looks surprised.

“I thought you hated how sticky they got your hands.”

“That’s what napkins were invented for,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve been dealing with your chocolate chips for years, haven’t I?”

“I guess,” Rhodey says. “Just like I’ve been dealing with the fact that you pretend like you don’t like it, but you steal all of it.”

“Lies and slander, dearest,” Tony says, and Rhodey grins smoothly.

“Get back to the kid, sweetheart. I’ll be there when all of this is done.”

And it sounds so goddamned domestic. As if it’s real, as if they’ve been doing this song and dance for years. And they have, but it’s never been...

It’s never been real. Sure, they’ve waited on each other when Rhodey leaves or Tony travels, and they fall in together in a nice and easy rhythm.

But Tony...he’s a Stark. He needs a good reputation, and while most wouldn’t say his reputation is exactly good, there’s a lot that the public can forgive. Rhodey is not part of that.

Tony thinks that Rhodey deserves someone better. He knows it, knows it in the way that Rhodey smiles and it’s the best damned thing he’s ever seen, knows it in the way how his eyes track people who need help the most.

Harley knows virtually none of this. The only thing he knows is that his guardians are the stupidest people on the planet, and now he has a side project besides school and by god it’ll be fun.

But first, Rhodey is being sent off. Tony’s hands are wandering all over the place, as Harley’s noticed they do when he’s nervous. His do the same. Tony is talking about everything and joking about changes, and Rhodey smiles and nods and they both know what is going to happen.

Harley, for his part, mostly just tries not to doze off because it’s too early for any of this but also he wants to remember this.

Rhodey will be gone for one month and three weeks. According to Tony, this isn’t the longest he’s ever been away, but usually he’s not gone for this long. The older he gets, the shorter the missions or projects get. But they need his expertise with rookies.

Tony, for his part, has packed about three extra bags for Rhodey under the guise of them being “goodie bags” or the army to peruse after Rhodey.

“I won’t need all of these fancy pieces,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even leaving the US this time, cupcake.”

“You saying you can’t be in danger when you’re here?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Take the stuff dad,” Harley says exasperated.

“Ha!” Rhodey teases. “So I’m dad!”

“You both are,” Harley says. “You’re both dad.”

They grin at each other, at least until Tony furrows his brow.

“Then how will we know which one you’re talking to?”

“I’ll come up with a different name then,” Harley says. “I don’t know. Let’s not talk about this while you’re supposed to be boarding a jet.”

Rhodey shrugs, leaning in for a hug from Harley, and facing Tony. There’s something in his eyes.

“Stay safe,” Tony says. “Promise me that.”

“I don’t make promises,” Rhodey says, a smile playing at his lips.

“For anyone else,” Tony finishes, grinning. He brings him into a hug, probably holding on for a touch longer than necessary. But he’s leaving, so you can’t fault him for it.

Harley is smiling to himself as Rhodey whispers something in Tony’s ear, which causes him to widen his eyes in delight.

“Seriously? You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

Tony cheers for a moment, before they hear a shout across the tarmac. Rhodey gives a lazy salute.

“Until one month and three weeks.”

“Until then, nerd,” Harley shouts.

Tony blows a kiss, and Rhodey “catches” it and puts it in his pocket.

Harley sends Tony a look as they’re driving home.

“So. What did Rhodey whisper in your ear?”

“He’s going to move in,” Tony says, grinning.

“He doesn’t actually live at our home?” Harley asks, absolutely flabbergasted. “There’s no fucking way-”

“Language!”

“You said ‘shit’ during breakfast, if anything this is just leveling the playing field-”

“Don’t care, you’re a small child. What would the public say if they knew I was teaching my boy curse words?” Tony says dramatically.

“They’d probably not be surprised,” Harley answers. “Didn’t you tell the paparazzi to ‘get fucked’ when they ambushed our dinner last month?”

“Not the point.”

“Or is it?”

“You’re detracting from the fact that you get to help me get rid of all of Rhodey’s ugly furniture in his apartment.”

“Seriously?” Harley whines. “No, I’m...doing something.”

“Doing what? Eating hot fries on my couch and getting it stained with spicy cheese dust?”

“...no.”

“Hm, thought so. You’re coming with me.”

Rhodey isn’t expecting to miss home as fiercely as he does this time around. He’s irritable, but he finds comfort in talking with some of the other members of the crew about kids.

“Didn’t know you had a kid,” Hicks mentions. “When did that happen?”

“About six months ago,” Rhodey answers. “Kid needed a guardian, Tony stepped up to the plate. He’s a real neat kid, really a genius. Just like Tony, in that way.”

“You live with Tony, finally?” Thompson asks. “Or do you still have that dinky bachelor pad?”

“I’m selling it,” Rhodey said. “I told Tony I’d help out with Harley, and that’s what I’m doing. Figure since I’m always over there anyways, might as well move in.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t move in sooner, what with you and Stark anyways,” Thompson remarks.

“What do you mean?” Rhodey asks.

“You’re...not together?”

Rhodey looks away, a bit sheepish.

“Uh...no. We’re not.”

“But you wanna be,” Owens teases from her corner, eating her sandwich. “You stupid lover-boy.”

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey fires back. “As if you aren’t all over your husband when you get back.”

“But I, my dear old man, am married,” Owens says. “Put a ring on it! God knows you should’ve, like, eight years ago. Have you even asked him on a date?”

“He has other options, and a life outside of me,” Rhodey says.

“Bullshit,” the team crows, laughing. Rhodey just shakes his head, and bites into his sandwich.

He misses them.

Harley and Tony miss him equally as much. Tony is down in the dumps, sulking in his lab while Harley attempts to rebuild a projectile weapon.

“Do you have a permit for that?”

“Do I need one?” Harley asks. “I’m not gonna take it anywhere, except maybe when I’m in trouble.”

“When will you be in trouble?”

“...you’ll know.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to be on national news.”

“Just on regional, don’t worry.”

Tony sighs.

“Rhodey is going to want to witness that, so can you wait?”

“...potentially.”

Rhodey gets letters from the two of them. He thinks it’s Harley’s idea: after all, Tony would simply just hijack the internet feed and yell at people until Rhodey was called for.

He gets two pages from Tony with his elegant writing, the writing that almost never comes out because he remembers that Tony was taught how to write in blocky, all-caps letters that he was fond of now.

Harley writes in chicken-scratch that is barely legible, although he mentions that he’s been learning about lettering from Tony.

Tony misses you a lot, by the way, Harley writes, he’s been playing all of your favorite songs, and I didn’t know that you liked Three Dog Night. Interesting.

It’s not surprising that Tony knows and plays his music, not really. But Rhodey is still pleasantly surprised that even when he isn’t physically present, Tony keeps a piece of him around.

Similarly, Tony writes about Harley.

The kid misses you, honey. He’s been compiling a list of things he wants to do when you get back. You’re better at hugging him, by the way. Today (well, Wednesday for you) we had a good cry session. Wish you were there, but we made do with what we had. Why did you take your sweatshirt, by the way? Stupid man, now I can’t wear it and drape myself across couches like a scorned widow. Honestly...

Rhodey comes back on a Tuesday morning. Harley’s allowed to miss school for it, which he’s very happy about.

“That doesn’t mean you get to sleep in,” Tony says. “We’re picking him up at eight.”

“Why must I be punished for all time,” Harley moans. “Eight? Seriously? Doesn’t the army know that noon exists?”

“They made up the early rule because of me,” Tony jokes. “But I promise that Rhodey will most likely want an actual breakfast, which means we get diner breakfast.”

“Yes!” Harley says, pumping his fist. “Waking up early just became worth it.”

“Yeah sure, just look at the emails your teachers sent you about missing homework and be sure to text Peter and Ned about the classes you missed,” Tony says.

Harley nods, walking out of the kitchen before pausing and turning back.

“You should wear that Black Sabbath shirt that Rhodey likes tomorrow,” he says. “It’ll be nice for him to see.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“And since when did you know what Rhodey likes to see?”

“Since I was born with vision,” Harley deadpans. “He always picks that shirt out for you when you come back after a business meeting overseas.”

Waking up at eight a.m. is worth it for a hug from Rhodey. Honest to god, that man gives the best hugs Harley’s ever had, short of Abbie and mom.

Tony is asking a million questions a minute, and then telling Rhodey about the results of the apartment. A Stark Industries employee is renting it, and Tony managed to save some of the mugs, and chastised Rhodey for stealing a colander, apparently.

“It was our good one! Why did you leave it in your apartment?”

“I thought I stored it where we put the pans!” Rhodey defended. “How was I supposed to know that it was at that apartment?”

“Quit arguing and start moving,” Harley says. “We have breakfast to get to.”

“Our boy is growing,” Tony says, sighing. “Soon he’ll eat us out of house and home.”

“We live in a gigantic tower in New York, I think you’re gonna be fine,” Rhodey says. “Although let’s get on it before there’s too much of a wait.”

“It’s a Tuesday, darling,” Tony says. “No wait. And they know us.”

Harley enjoys witnessing breakfast. Basically because Tony and Rhodey fall into their respective rhythms as if no one had ever left. Rhodey is fighting about the hash browns, and Tony is reaching all the way across the table for the hot sauce.

Harley has honestly and truly missed them all together like this.

Even if Rhodey nabs a sausage from his plate.

“I’m the growing teen here!” Harley says, gesturing with his fork. “Why steal from your poor, innocent charge? Was it not enough to leave for a month and three weeks?”

“And three weeks! Honestly honey,” Tony says, distracting Harley enough to steal the other sausage off of his plate. “You should’ve been here sooner, we could’ve eaten more of these!”

“You both are criminals,” Harley says. “Criminals who I have to live with. This is unforgivable. I’ll waste away into nothing...”

Rhodey laughs, and he catches Tony’s eyes.

Yeah. It’s good to be back.

Living with Tony and Harley isn’t really an adjustment at all. Rhodey had barely used his apartment before, and now is no different. He just gets to decorate his room a little bit more, and contribute more to groceries.

He’s also around for more of Harley which is...interesting.

The kid knows something, that’s for sure.

He is also sneakily good at making sure that Tony and Rhodey get alone time, whether that be last-minute-ditching plans with Pepper or “forgetting” that he was supposed to be going to Ned’s for a video-game championship. (Harley was good at lying, but Tony and Rhodey have had years of practice.)

Rhodey has a sneaking suspicion that he knows why.

Harley isn’t a stupid boy, not by a long shot.

He’s caught on to Rhodey’s stares, the way that Tony and Rhodey have something, but neither really want to acknowledge.

To acknowledge means to know, and knowing is something that is far more terrifying than most people give it credit.

Harley eventually has help.

After all, he and Pepper didn’t just go their separate ways when he ditched his guardians to give them quality dates, and he didn’t just talk about video game strategy with Peter, Ned, and MJ.

He was planning. Figured it would fit with a life plan, honestly.

Pepper is quite potentially even more tired than he is, and has agreed to help set up a nice date.

She’s made deals she never expected to.

She owes the god of mischief a bottle of wine. It’s ridiculous.

Peter and Ned have been elected with getting the “aesthetic” right, and MJ has been “helpfully” suggesting where lights go.

“MJ, if I move them any more left they’ll fall off the building and become a hazard,” Harley grunts.

“Exactly. Nothing says romance like dangerous situations,” she says with a shrug. “But put them in the tree, and we can link the extension cord behind. It’ll look nice. All Pinterest-y and shit.”

“Why can’t you help and then joke?”

“I never joke. You just always like my second plan better.”

“I don’t know whether to be terrified or alarmed!” Peter calls from his spot of building the cheese-board.

“They’re synonyms,” MJ says. “When are we going home, by the way?”

“As soon as Rhodey finishes up with his afternoon run, and Tony realizes that dinner is still a social concept,” Harley says.

“Time, then?”

“...five-thirty.”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll call my mom about the pizza,” Ned says. “We still thinking one pepperoni and one veggie?”

“Sounds great,” Peter says. “What movie are we watching tonight?”

“Twitter polls said Clueless over the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. Sorry Ned, looks like your choice will be next week.”

“My heart hurts, but it understands,” Ned says sagely, placing a hand over his heart. “I will see Mercutio soon enough.”

Tony was not aware that their rooftop had lights. He doesn’t remember putting them there.

He was also pretty sure that Harley had a question about the flight patterns of birds in relation to GPS technology in drones, and it was weird that it was outside, but-

There’s a cheese-board. And now he gets why Pepper made him change shirts. He knew that his shirt wasn’t ugly!

Rhodey is standing across the way, looking at the dinner set-up and the tealights flickering gently from their placement.

“Is this...did you do this, Tony?”

“I don’t have this much of a creative eye,” Tony says, eyeing the intimate table placement. “Maybe Pepper?”

“She doesn’t do lights...”

“Harley,” they both say in unison, laughing.

There’s a note at the table, written in the same near-illegible handwriting:

Either get together or I get to make a Twitter thread. Your call.

Tony snorts as he looks at the placement of everything.

“Well...it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Is that you saying you’re flattered, but no thanks?” Rhodey asks.

“No,” Tony says, looking at Rhodey. “It’s not that at all, if you-”

“You mean-?”

“What? Is this what’s happening?” Tony asks. His breathing speeds up. He’s quite embarrassed that he can feel his cheeks turn red. He thought he got rid of blushing in ‘96.

“I...damn it, Tony. I love you!”

Tony stares. He just stares, and for a moment it doesn’t process, until it does. He flings himself into Rhodey’s arms, and laughs.

“Holy shit, that’s a relief.”

Rhodey spins him around, taking a brief moment to kiss him gently on the cheek.

“Oh, you owe me more than that, soldier.”

“I think I’m a little bit higher ranked than that.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“Boyfriend, for one.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“We’re, like, a minute into this and you’re already the cheesy one.”

“Well one of us has to be, and I’m going to beat you to the punch.”

Harley gets one text at four in the morning from Rhodey:

no twitter thread for us. and you need to figure out what to call tony because i’m claiming “dad.”

Harley cackles, grinning.

got it, he’ll be pops then.

Tony texts Harley a minute later.

if you call me ‘pops’ there will be a mutiny! a mutiny!!

Harley laughs again, tapping a message back.

wotever.

Tony doesn’t respond, choosing instead to roll back over and sling an arm around his significant other. It’s too early to be nitpicking your kid’s grammar.

#lovelyirony writes #tony stark #harley keener #ironhusbands #rhodey #war machine #iron man #harley #pepper potts #mj watson #ned leeds #peter parker #anyways!!! yeah #death tw #tony and rhodye are STUPID. STUPID STUPID STUPID.#luckily harley has decided it's going to be his side proejct to get his two guardians together

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