#a touch screen tablet is becoming more of a want for me each month | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

Becky's debut novel (Sugar Sugar fic)

A/N: So, @thelastsock gave me such a great idea: a snippet of Becky's book. So I have a snippet here, including a front cover, back cover and a little dedication page (because I am extra like that 😂😂, what else do you expect from me). Hope you like it xoxo

Chapter 1

YOU ARE NOT WELCOME.

Those are the exact words that greet me when I walk up our porch to our front door. Let’s just say that my mom has a special way of welcoming her quests. I step over the slightly offensive doormat to get inside. Not a lot of people would expect this kind of welcome from the mayor, but then again: no one expected her to win the elections in our town Starfall Fields in the first way.

Not to be mean, but even I never believed in my mom and not for a second did I think she had any chance of winning. Mom has been quite the controversy the second she moved into town. How on earth would she be able to be the mayor?

Weirdly enough, she hasn’t made a complete fool out of herself in these two months she has been mayor. Actually, she’s been doing quite well. It’s just that her housekeeping skills have been lower than low.

I open the refrigerator and scrunch up my nose when I notice there is barely anything edible in here. Great.

I grab my phone and send my mom a text.

Josie: You need to do groceries

Mom: Do it yourself, you lazy bitch

Mom: Still love you though 😘

I chuckle as I read her text. She’s quite something, my mom, and if we don’t call each other bitch at least once a day, there’s something up and we should worry.

People might find it odd that we call one another bitch, but it’s just our way of showing our affection towards the other.

Somehow I find some left over yogurt that isn’t expired already. I peel a banana (to only throw half of it away, because it’s brown and squishy, therefore absolutely repulsive) and cut it into slices. I drizzle some maple syrup on top of it and want to add some raisins, but when I open the jar, I find out there is only one raisin left in it.

‘Mom,’ I whine, though she can’t hear me. ‘Really?’ This is just absolutely fantastic. After a long day at school, a girl can barely enjoy a nice little afternoon snack. I grab my bowl and walk over to the dining table. My butt barely touched the soft seating of the chair, when my best friend Andy FaceTimes me. I place the phone against the fruit bowl before I press answer. ‘What do you want?’ I ask him. ‘You literally saw me half an hour ago.’

He smiles, two dimples appearing in his full cheeks. ‘You know I can’t get enough of you, sugar.’

Andy and I have been best friends since I can remember, but that is mostly because we’ve been in the same class the moment we both stepped foot into kindergarten and we’re neighbors. We’re literally the two houses in a radius of around half a mile (yes, we took the time to measure it) and he isn’t the worst guy to hang around with.

Okay, he is the only one that doesn’t make me that angry, I have to fight the urge to claw his eyes out. I’m not gonna beat around the bush: I love hanging out with him.

While we see each other the moment we step out of our houses to go to school, share every class of the day with one another and we walk from school back to our houses, it’s hard to function without the other one. Therefore, we usually FaceTime the second we can after separating.

We’re quite the symbiotic pair.

‘Spit it out, Andy. What do you want?’ I ask.

‘I was wondering what your plans are,’ Andy says. ‘Mainly for tonight.’

I can’t help but chuckle. ‘There was a plan of me hanging on the couch, watching a movie with my best friend while we eat junk food, but your voice is telling me that you have something else in mind for the two of us.’

He nods. ‘I was thinking about you and I doing some FindUrPricing tonight.’

‘FindUrPricing is not a word, you idiot.’

‘I don’t care, miss Doyle,’ he retorts with a sassy undertone. He shakes his head, gestures I have to wait (like I’m going anywhere) and comes back into frame, this time with a tablet in his hands. ‘I have like five of these things, so what do you say? Want to bury them tonight, while we try to find something cool for it in return?’

Andy has this obsession with solving puzzles in newspapers like the old soul he is and since he is quite good and really fast, he has won multiple prizes, including multiple tablets.

‘Only if I find a diamond ring,’ I answer with my mouth full of yogurt.

‘Yeah, that’s attractive. You’ll find yourself a boyfriend in no time with those manners.’

I show him the finger. ‘I don’t need etiquette lessons from you,’ I say.

Andy sticks out his tongue. ‘Are you coming with me tonight?’ he asks me. ‘You know I need you.’

I chuckle. Andy is a disaster when it comes to being in the dark, but since FindUrPrice is just more fun at night, I have become his personal guard. ‘Okay, okay, but only if I can sleep at your place tonight. I have no idea what time my mom will be back from work.’

Andy’s parents are going to the opera’s tonight and afterwards, they’re staying in a hotel near the big city. Normally, they aren’t the type of people to go to the opera’s, but when their son wins tickets, including a stay in one of the most luxurious hotels in the area, who are they to say no?

Since I have no idea what time my mom manages to pull herself from city hall (to say she is a workaholic is an understatement), I’d rather sleep at Andy’s, then telling her we’ve been wandering on the street late at night.

Especially on a school night.

Sure, my mom knows about FindUrPrice, but she forbade me to ever do it late at night, because “you never know what can happen”. I personally think it’s not that big of a deal, since Starfall Fields is boring as hell and absolutely harmless, but my mother wouldn’t be my mother if she didn’t envision my death.

FindUrPrice is an app for the younger folks in our city and the few around. The organization hid a few gifts and presents and whenever you follow the leads and find something, you have to place something nice in return. It’s cute and me and Andy do it from time to time.

‘You’re coming over now?’ Andy asks.

‘To help you do your laundry?’ I ask, nodding towards the screen, mainly towards the enormous pile of clothes on his bed. ‘Didn’t think so. See you in a few hours, Andy.’

‘Please,’ he begs, right at the same time as I hear his mom in the background yelling for him. ‘Yes, wait a minute!’ he yells. ‘Can I live with you? I feel like your mother never pushes you to do chores around the house.’

‘That’s because I do them voluntarily. If mom doesn’t do laundry, no one does it. If mom doesn’t clean the toilet, no one does it. Believe me, with a mom who all of the sudden turns a bit blind when it comes house chores, there is more to do here than there is at your place. Don’t you dare whine about it, Andrew Carter.’

We hang up and I grab a magazine from the table, reading through some of the articles. How to painlessly bikini wax yourself, how to get rid of strawberry legs, how to get yourself a man in a week.

Geez, mom, why do you read this?

No wait, better question: mom, why haven’t you gotten yourself a man in a week? This issue is three months old.

My phone rings again and without looking I answer, since I know exactly who is calling me. ‘Andy, I’m not helping you with your laundry,’ I say. ‘Shirts, sweaters and other items for your upper body go on a hanger and the rest with clothespins on a drying rack. How many times do I have to tell you that?’

‘Thank you for this wise, yet unnecessary lesson in laundry,’ mom says and I can hear her smile in her voice. ‘But laundry is your chore, so I pretend I didn’t hear it.’

‘What do you want?’ I ask my mom.

‘Wanted to know your plans for tonight.’

‘I was planning on hanging out with Andy,’ I say. Go outside, do some FindUrPricing. ‘Watch a movie. Probably sleep at his place. He is home alone, you know how he gets.’

Mom snorts. ‘Oh, do I know. How old was he when he rang our doorbell, nearly crying because he was afraid of the dark?’

‘The last time was a few months ago,’ I chuckle. ‘Why do you want to know my plans for tonight?’

‘You know,’ mom starts and I do know. ‘There is still a lot to do here at city hall.’

‘Right,’ I say, ‘and you wanted to know whether or not I mind. Mom, I’m your daughter, I truly don’t care.’

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ she says, mostly because she is trying to feel less guilty.

And I wouldn’t be her daughter if I wasn’t going to totally exploit her sweet offer. ‘So, you’re making breakfast for me and Andy tomorrow?’

She sighs. ‘Goodness gracious, really? I’m going to pull an all nighter.’

‘You wanted to be mayor and you’re also a mother. Deal with it.’

Mom scoffs. ‘And here I was thinking I was gonna get some sympathy from my daughter.’

‘Ew never,’ I say.

‘Well, I might just make breakfast for you, only if you eat it here. I might be your chef, but I’m not a waiter and I’m certainly not gonna walk it to the Carters.’

I scoff. ‘Okay, I think I can live with that.’

‘Alright, enjoy your night, Josie and don’t make it too late okay? Ten o’clock lights out, okay?’

No. ‘Of course. Bye mom.’

I look at the picture on the dining table. Despite not being blood related, my mom and I are really close. According to Andy’s mom, it never seemed like my mom would settle down. She moved to this boring place a few years prior to finding me on her doorstep. She was thirty and didn’t have a husband (nor had any intention of settling down with anyone—she turned down a lot of men who asked her out in Starfall Fields). Even back then, she was already a workaholic and worked over time as the mayor’s assistant.

One day, when she was getting herself ready for work, she heard soft cries from her front porch and when she checked it out, there was yours truly.

I was around a year old and in the cradle, there was a note saying that whoever found me, to take good care of me. My DNA wasn’t available in any database, just like there were no matches at all.

I have no idea who I am, who my biological family is and where I’m from.

Mom adopted me, because I only felt safe with her and since that moment, we were a duo.

A year and a half ago she became the mayor and since then she is everywhere in Starfall Fields, except home. I barely see her, but she does a lot for this town and I don’t think I have the right to whine about it, especially because it means many many sleepovers with Andy and many nights wandering around the woods to play FindUrPrice.

Sure, I miss her from time to time, because she’s still my mom. From someone who was home a lot, would wait for me on the porch no matter the weather when I came back from school and had chocolate pie ready for me and Andy, she changed to a real career woman who is everywhere in town.

But that’s okay, she’s happy and when she is, I am too. I should be, especially after everything she has done for me.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #becky kim #asian ofc #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #becky kim is an author

56 notes · View notes

sometimesiwrite · 3 years

Text

The Way It Is

Prompt: Fake Dating

Pairing: Lambert & Essi Other Characters: Julian (Jaskier), Eskel/Geralt

Rating: Teen Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings; platonic/queerplatonic dynamics; pressure to engage sexually; coarse language; alcohol/intoxication; modern AU.

Summary: When Essi and Lambert are setup on a blind date, they don’t expect to get along as well as they do. However, when they decide to keep their relationship platonic and non-romantic, they realize they might face some uncomfortable pressure. For the sake of simplicity, they decide to tell people they’re dating, but is it sustainable?

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Essi fidgeted with the bent corner of her cafe menu, looking around at the various styles of local artworks hanging on the walls. She was early by about ten minutes, but that didn’t stop her from checking the pearlescent dial of her watch every thirty seconds. Finally, the bell above the door tinkled and a man walked in. Essi could tell from the way he was looking around that he was there to meet someone—her. The only other people sitting alone in the cafe were working on laptops and tablets; no one else waiting for a date. And this man was most certainly looking for one.

He was handsome in a ruffled sort of way, though he’d clearly put in a bit of effort. His black casual dress shirt and slim light-wash jeans fit his lean frame impeccably, and a subtle quantity of mousse was clearly doing its best to tame his short, scruffy brown hair. Even his bristly beard appeared to have been trimmed recently. Though there was nothing particularly remarkable about his clothing, there was something striking about the way he carried himself, a devil-may-care sort of presence that Essi appreciated. For a blind date, she thought, it certainly could be worse. Allegedly, they knew each other, at least based on his abruptly out-of-the-blue text, and the closer she looked, the more her memory of him crystalized.

A loud ping! emitted from Essi’s phone and the man looked up from his own cellular device, clearly having just texted.

“Uh, Essi? Essi Daven, right?” He took a step towards her and leaned in, pointing to his phone screen.

“Yes,” Essi stood to shake his hand, “hi.”

“Nice to see you again. Lambert.”

They sat down awkwardly, both struggling to find the will for smalltalk.

“So…” Lambert had become keenly interested in a black-and-white digital photograph behind Essi’s shoulder.

“Listen,” Essi could feel the words start to tumble out of her mouth, and it was too late to do anything about it. Lambert raised an eyebrow, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to be honest and probably regret it later: I don’t really do this. Dating. I find it strange and uncomfortable and if I’m perfectly honest I think I’d rather die.” She didn’t cringe apologetically, which would have been the expected behaviour to accompany an outpouring of disinterest. Instead she stared at him, wide-eyed, lips slightly pursed as a muscle in her neck twitched, waiting for his response.

Lambert laughed. Genuinely laughed—a joyful release of tension and dread, “Oh, thank Fuck!” Essi blinked in pleasant surprise and watched as Lambert began to relax.

“Excuse me?” Her startlingly blue eyes widened in amusement.

“No, no, I just mean—I would absolutely and one-hundred percent, without a doubt, rather die in a hole than date,” Lambert slotted the edge of the menu under his fingernails and let his eyes wander a little more freely around the cafe.

“So then… why?”

Hm. Direct, frank, amusing lack of filter… the memories were starting to come back from what limited, heavily inebriated, time they’d spent together.

There was something about the straightforwardness of this endearingly odd woman that made Lambert feel infinitely more comfortable. Usually, any kind of interaction with the potential of building mutual interest made him feel like he was playing a game he didn’t know the rules to. The signals, the code words that never meant what they said: having sex on the first date means you’re a slut; not having sex on the third date means you’re a prude; grabbing coffee means this; having dinner means that; if they your arm but don’t invite you up, it means that they’re actually a KGB operative and need to give you the launch codes for a super secret missile...

Fuck that, we have words for a reason. Say what you mean and don’t waste my time. For that reason alone, Essi was already scoring quite well in Lambert’s books.

He shrugged, “You somehow remembered me from the KM Christmas party almost six months ago, and still asked for my number. I figure that at least deserves a coffee and a conversation.”

Essi was bewildered, “I didn’t ask for your number, you texted me.”

Lambert shook his head, “Impossible. No offense, but I absolutely guarantee you I did not.” He produced their short text exchange and scrolled to the top of their conversation:

Hi, is this Lambert? From the KM Christmas party?

You might not remember me, we got talking about

the political situation in Kashmir after about…

Too many drinks. Eeep!

Anyway, I’d love to get a coffee sometime, if

you’re interested.

Sorry, this is Essi Daven.

You called me Goldilocks at one point and

seemed amused XD

Hope you’re well!

Essi snatched Lambert’s phone, shocked and slightly outraged as she reached for her own device, opening her thread with Lambert. The text at the top was not from her, but from the man across from her:

Yeah, hi, this is

Lambert-from-the-KM-Christmas-party.

As it happens, I remember you and our

conversation quite well. Not many folks

happily get into drunken political discussions

You know what, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a

coffee.

Let me know if you’re free in the next couple

weeks!

Lambert gestured emphatically at Essi’s phone screen, “In what world is this an acceptable way to ask someone out?! I wouldn’t have said yes to that!”

“I don’t know,” Essi fired back, “It was straightforward! I found it charming, okay? Is that a crime?”

“No, but I have some serious concerns about your taste in men.”

“Like you’re in such a fine position to judge after the hollow, paltry invitation you accepted—which I absolutely did not write, by the way. I want to make that perfectly clear.”

“Alright, alright, cool your jets, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” Lambert narrowed his eyes as he passed Essi’s phone back to her, “You didn't fire the first shot, so who texted me from your phone and cleared the history?”

Essi nibbled the inside of her cheek, “I can think of a few.”

“Okay, next question,” Lambert pocketed his phone, “who added you to my contacts before you texted. Because we did not exchange numbers six months ago, but your name was already there when I received it.”

Essi shrugged, “Who has access to your phone?”

“I dunno. Really just Eskel and Geralt and neither of them would—”

“Geralt.”

“Why him?”

Essi’s bright blue eyes turned steely and murderous, “Julian… They’re working together.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me that Geralt the-last-thing-I-need Rivia and Julian Alfred these-aren't-my-pants Pankratz think we're so helplessly undateable that they decided to secretly set us up?”

“Eskel doesn’t know me that well; he wouldn’t try to set you up with someone he hadn’t vetted. Who did you talk to first when you got that text from me?”

Lambert’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, they’re working together.”

Essi nodded, a flood of embarrassment warming her cheeks. “Sorry to waste your time. You’re very nice but, um, I should just…” she got up to leave.

“Wh-hey, hold up. I mean, if you wanna go, go, that's fine, but there's something you might want to know first.”

Essi tossed her yellow bangs out of her eyes, “Oh? What's that?”

“This,” Lambert produced an Amex credit card from his breast pocket, “is Geralt's.” The cheeky glint in his eyes was a very convincing argument.

“Fine then. Coffee and a conversation.”

The coffee was hot and decent, and the conversation meandered through the usual topics of music, movies, and television, but also dipped into deeper waters as they grew more comfortable with each other’s company. Of course, it didn’t hurt that neither of them had any stakes in the outcome of this “date”. It made it easier to be frank and open, which in turn led to them quickly enjoying their time together. So much so that coffee turned into lunch, which turned into a long walk in the pleasant weather, which finally landed them outside Essi’s apartment, just around dinner time.

“I have to say, this was actually a pleasant encounter,” she said, turning to face him with a characteristic toss of her bangs.

“Yeah, who’d’ve thought two people forced together by meddling friends would actually find it enjoyable?”

“In light of that,” Essi squared her shoulders and found Lambert’s hazel-brown eyes, “I think it’s fair to say I want to see you again.”

He cringed regretfully and scratched the back of his head, “Ahh, yeah, so… I don’t know if that’s really--”

“Oh, relax,” Essi smirked with a casual touch to Lambert’s forearm. “I don't mean like that. I just mean--you're interesting and fun and, well I don't have many close friends and I feel like we connected well today.”

“Well…”

“I'll make it even simpler: I absolutely, one-hundred percent, am not interested in dating you.”

“Easy there, you know I love it when people get all straightforward with me.”

“I mean it, I just want to be friends,” she toyed back, trying her best to look sultry. It kind of worked.

Lambert bit his lower lip in mock arousal, “Mmm, oh yeah...”

She swayed her shoulders forward and back, doing her best to emulate the seductive actresses and models of the 1950s, “I want to Netflix and chill with a documentary about Soviet propaganda.”

Her last comment prompted a playfully stern look from her companion, “Careful now, you’re wading into actual turn-on territory.”

“You're such a weirdo,” Essi chuckled, giving him an endeared shove. “Seriously, though, would you like to do this again? Friends?”

He nodded sincerely, “Yeah, I think I'd really like that. Just one problem, though.”

“If we claim not to be interested in each other but keep hanging out we’ll never hear the end of it?”

“Bingo.”

Essi hummed thoughtfully and nibbled the inside of her bottom lip, “Well… we could always… pretend?”

***

“Sounds like you two are hitting it off. I’m glad. I know Essi’s been feeling a little isolated between work and being new to the city.” Geralt closed the fridge with his foot and headed towards the sofa, popcorn in one hand, three beers in the other. “I’ll take my card back, by the way.”

Lambert reluctantly handed the Amex back in exchange for a beer and perched on the arm of the sofa. “She’s really something. We’re, uh—yeah, hitting it off is a good word.”

And hitting it off, they were. The last ten days since their first “date” had been more enjoyable than all the dates he’d had in the last year combined. Essi was a fantastic companion: sharp, witty, kind, took no bullshit… They had done absolutely nothing but hang out, and no one had pried them for many details about the nature of their relationship. As far as their friend group was concerned, they were simply dating in the way that most adults dated. This also meant more time to themselves without unwanted interruptions (namely Julian barging in with his spare key to gossip about whatever fires were currently alight on twitter). The first night Lambert had been over, it took Julian all of five minutes to “grab something from the fridge” before parting with a knowing wink.

To her credit and imagination, Essi had expertly fielded her cousin’s initial barrage of questions when she first announced their “involvement.” It wasn’t that she didn’t like her cousin, Essi adored Julian, but she was also the first to admit that the man had no boundaries. What he lacked in that arena, he certainly made up for with opinions, which he was always more than happy to bestow on his younger cousin—usually dating advice, almost always unsolicited. Lambert had a much easier time convincing his side that he and Essi were taking it easy to see where things went. Between Eskel being a consummate gentleman and Geralt having his own Delicate Sensibilities, neither of them had demanded any details.

“As long as you’re both happy and everything’s healthy, that’s all that matters,” Geralt’s partner reiterated, reaching into the bowl on Geralt’s lap.

“Jesus, Eskel, you sound like my Nonna.”

“That's no way to talk to your father,” Geralt smirked into his hand of popcorn

“You're no better,” Lambert took a swig from his beer, lips popping as he lowered the bottle. “I swear, you've turned into a couple of mother hens since you two got together. Quit fussing and watch the game.”

Geralt put his arm around Eskel’s shoulders, “We have gotten a little soft haven’t we?”

Eskel huffed out a laugh, “Probably. Hey, Lambert, don't fuck it up or I'll kick your ass into next week.”

“Thank you. See? Was that so hard?”

“Eh,” Eskel shrugged, helping himself to another handful of popcorn, “I stand by my original statement. Geralt agrees.”

“It's true,” he said between mouthfuls. “Essi’s a good woman. Smart, talented, kind, attractive.”

Eskel cleared his throat.

“Eskel, she is, it's just a statement of fact it doesn't mean that she doesn’t have other…”

“I know it doesn't but I still think you could bear to be a little more…”

“Funny thing,” Lambert interrupted, “I still can’t figure out how this smart, talented, kind, attractive woman’s number programmed itself into my phone. Because I may have been drunk the night we first met, but I have never in my life forgotten a successful number grab. Fess up, fellas. Who was it?”

Eskel’s eyes widened, “Geralt, you didn’t.”

“I… may have… helped Julian gain access to Lambert’s phone.”

“Unbelievable. The betrayal,” Lambert shook his head, eyes still on the game. “If only there was some way to square things up…”

“You charged everything to my company card, didn’t you?”

“First two dates and a fresh pair of pants. Thanks, bud.” Geralt accepted a pat on the back as Eskel began gently but sternly berating him.

Lambert shook his head, smirking as he took another swig of beer, leaving the two lovebirds to bicker amongst themselves. His hip pocket buzzed and he checked his phone: Essi.

Next Wednesday? Pizza and a movie? Still can't believe you haven't seen Ocean’s Eleven.

Yeah, okay, fine. Jeez :P 7:30 my place? I'll provide beverages.

If by ‘beverages’ you mean watery beer…

Fuck off, I'll get the good stuff. Unless you prefer Arbor Mist or some shit.

*gasps* I am offended! (but also it's delicious)

*sigh* do you want me to get you some?

*turtles into hoodie* ...peach or cherry pls?

Haha okay, fine, I'll get a bottle. Can't promise I won't judge you forever, though ;)

It's okay, I deserve it. g2g, see you tomorrow! xox

***

Lambert groaned contentedly, massaging his stomach as he sprawled back on his aging brown sofa, long legs resting habitually on the coffee table. The now-empty pizza box lay abandoned on the far edge, accompanied by four empty beer bottles, and a nearly-empty, unfavourably warm Peach Arbor Mist. The toilet flushed and Essi emerged. Her dark gold hair had long ago been pulled into a messy bun, but her indigo skinny jeans had been replaced by soft-looking grey leggings.

Lambert shook his head in amusement as she settled back next to him on the couch, "I still can't believe you brought your own lounge pants"

"That's because I'm a genius," she quipped, crossing her legs and adjusting the height of her waistband. "Besides, when else will I have the opportunity to actually be comfortable during a date?"

"You took your bra off, too, didn't you?" Lambert asked without missing a beat, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Yup!" Essi confirmed, her sparkling blue eyes glinting with joy as she raised her glass to her lips.

The movie continued as the new friends settled into comfortable silence, their food-drowsy, alcohol-fuzzy states lulling them into a new level of comfortability around each other. Legs fell asleep, positions were adjusted, and shoulders leaned on as the two sought maximum comfort for minimum effort. Soon, an arm was around Essi's shoulder as she settled her cheek on a comfortable spot on Lambert's chest.

"You good?" Lambert asked, only half-irritated at her seemingly endless search for the perfect angle.

"I'm sorry, I thought I'd found a good spot, but..." A few more adjustments of her head and Lambert couldn't take it anymore.

"Jesus, woman, here. Get up for a sec."

Essi sat up as Lambert rearranged himself into a sort of semi-recline with one foot on the floor so his other leg could make room for the tiny pain-in-the-ass that was taking up the rest of the couch space. At his invitation, she wriggled up to the crook of his arm and quickly settled in. Lambert hadn't really thought about what they were doing. Not when Essi had harmlessly leaned against his arm; not when their weight settled into each other; not when Lambert had put his arm around her; not even as he was rearranging to get to where they were now. It had all just... happened. Now, though, with Essi lying still, Lambert felt the weight and warmth of her body shifting gently against his, and it dawned on him that this had the potential to be, well, weird.

But the strange thing was, it didn't feel weird. He'd fucking cuddled before, but there was always a sense of holding back, a tension in his body, being on the lookout for signals from the other person to move onto the Next Step. But now, he actually felt comfortable. There wasn't anything that was supposed to happen after this. Nobody was asking anything of him, no one sending signals he could pick up on but never read properly, no sinking feelings of dread as the other person moved in for a kiss that always felt too soon. Essi was just there, breathing, content. And Lambert was relaxed.

The woman half-on top of him gave a twitch as the credits started to roll, and Lambert let out a private laugh, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, show's over."

Essi inhaled heavily through her nose and lifted herself up, "Hmmm?"

"Movie's over."

"Did I fall asleep? I'm sorry!" she sat and rubbed her eyes, taking a sip of water to rinse the stale taste from her mouth.

"Eh, only a little." Lambert exited Netflix and tossed the remote back on to the table. "Thought you might wanna start heading home before it gets too late."

Essi nodded in response as she grabbed the pizza box and brought it to the kitchen trash, leaving Lambert to bring the empties.

"You going to finish this atrocity of a beverage?" Lambert waggled the near-empty wine bottle at Essi as he passed on his way to the sink. She merely scowled and shook her head, letting him pour it down the drain 'where it belonged anyway'.

Essi gathered her things and met Lambert by his front door, checking her pockets for her phone and keys one last time before putting her shoes on.

"You okay to walk? Want me to come with?"

It was only 10:30 on a weeknight, and she appreciated the gesture all the same, but it was fine to walk. "Thanks, though. And thank you for tonight. I really needed to get out of the house. I hope, um..."

She trailed off, not sure how to ask. She didn't have the same physical boundaries that most others seemed to have. She was affectionate—often overly so, and it had led to more than a few misunderstandings in the past. She didn't want Lambert to feel as though she had ulterior motives when the simple fact of the matter was that she hadn't really been thinking. Between the instant relief of not actually being on a date and Lambert's easy manner all evening, she'd forgotten that most friendships didn’t generally involve that much physical contact. Would Lambert be confused now? Thinking they were onto something more than friendship? Had he been wanting more? Had she pushed past a point of no return and doomed their friendship?

She inhaled, "Were you comfortable tonight?"

For a split second, Lambert flailed, wondering whether he’d made her uncomfortable. Fuck, she'd seemed comfortable, if anything it felt like he’d been following her lead but maybe...

"I—yeah. That was, I enjoyed that. Were... were you not—?"

Essi smiled and Lambert relaxed again, "No, I was. I wanted to ask in case, that's all. Boundaries and all that. I'll text you when I'm home."

Lambert opened the door and waved her off toward the elevator, "'Kay. 'Night!"

The door clicked shut.

Okay, alright. Fine. Did they cuddle? Yes. Did he enjoy it? Fuck yes. He absolutely didn’t care what anyone might think about how he chose to enjoy his time with other people. However, this didn’t stop him from acknowledging that he was in uncharted friendship territory. More than anything, he was worried about how Essi really felt. Of course, she had no reason not to be honest with him. But the last thing he wanted to do was play fast and loose with someone’s emotions, especially not a friend, and definitely not one as close as Essi. Time would tell. As Lambert’s head hit the pillow, the memory of her warmth and weight settled over him again, and he slept soundly for the first time in months.

***

“Yes Poppet, but have you slept together yet? Honestly, you’ve been dating for almost three weeks now, what could you possibly be waiting for?”

Oh, I don’t know, hell to freeze over? You to mind your own business? Whichever comes first…

“I mean, you clearly adore one another, I’ve never seen you happier. What’s there to lose?’”

Essi scoffed.

Julian placed his hands on her shoulders, “I know it’s been a while for you, but I think you can afford to let yourself go a little, have some fun, hm? Besides, it’s better to find out sooner rather than later if you’re sexually incompatible.”

She took a deep breath, “That’s a very good point, Julian, I’ll think about that.” The dating act was starting to wear a little thin, but it was worth not having to explain to anyone that they weren’t doing exactly what it looked like they were doing.

Julian took time to give his cousin a scrutinizing look, “Well, by the look of things it won’t be long anyway. If you spend all of your time together as tangled up as you were the other night when I came over, it’ll happen sooner rather than later. Just trust your gut, and when in doubt, a little hint never goes awry.”

Needless to say, Essi more or less ignored her cousin’s advice.

As the weeks stretched on, it became evident that they were quickly becoming what most people would consider to be more than friends. The first time they pulled the covers back and climbed into bed, each on their half of the mattress, they were aware that yet another boundary of friendship had been pushed a little farther into the grey zone. But, they woke up the next morning feeling happy, content, and refreshed, and surely there was nothing wrong with two people sharing a comfortable bed. Essi had woken up with crust in her eyes and her nightgown bunched around her waist. Lambert had woken up with morning wood and his hair a mess. Neither of them cared. People wake up in the morning, big deal.

Still, it didn’t stop the questioning that oscillated in the background of Lambert’s mind. Was he unknowingly leading Essi on by allowing her so much closeness without a clearly defined relationship? She’d made her own disinterest clear enough on their first “date”, but feelings change over time. What she’d told him three weeks ago might not be true anymore…

And then there was that soft warm tingle in the middle of his chest every time she lay her head in his lap, every time he ran his fingers through her hair. He knew he wasn't in love. Not that he was an expert, but what was all that "when you know, you know" bullshit if he couldn’t trust his own feelings? He loved her, sure, but more like a... not a sister, that would be weird. He didn't know what like. Whatever. Fuck it. Eskel had said it best three weeks ago: “As long as you're happy and everything’s healthy, that’s all that matters.” Yeah, sure. We’ll stick with that.

As far as Lambert and Essi were concerned, it was what it was, and whatever it was was working… wasn’t it?

***

"Fuckin' finally!"

The door to Essi's apartment clicked closed as the tenant wilted against it, emitting an exhausted groan, "Two. Hours. It took me two hours to get home!" She toed off her penny loafers and abandoned her purse and jacket in a pile by the front door, ignoring the hook three inches to her left. She flopped heavily onto her living room carpet.

"I see you found my spare key," she added, not at all surprised that Lambert had managed to let himself in.

"Yeah, you should probably put that in a less obvious spot," he answered, crossing to the door to hang her things up. "So, I see it's a lying on the floor kind of evening. Can I interest you in a drink to start? Vodka pairs well with the general vibe of Done-With-This-Shit, or we also have tequila if you feel like shouting out the window after a couple shots. Alternatively, there's gin if you want to cry later."

Essi smiled with her eyes closed, feeling her body slowly relaxing into the spongy throw rug underneath her, "You know me so well."

"Vodka?"

"Vodka. Euch, I need to vacuum!," Essi peeled herself to a seated position as clinks and clatters began in the kitchen. She hopped in the shower to rinse the day off, and after a few minutes, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Yeeees?" she called, playfully.

"Drink delivery!" Lambert hollered back, "you want this now or later?"

"Why are you so good to me?"

There was a draught of cool air as Lambert opened the bathroom door, "Because you only marginally annoy me. Here," he passed his hand between the shower wall and the opaque fish-scale-patterned curtain. "What's on the docket for tonight?"

Essi groaned, "I don't know, I'm sorry. I used all my brain cells trying not to murder people on the streetcar."

"Okay," Lambert sat on the lidded toilet, "here's the thing. I kinda maybe figured that might be the case so I kinda maybe picked up a few things to make dinner."

A shampoo-piled head poked out from behind the curtain, "You're kidding."

"Nuh-uh."

"I love you."

Lambert chuckled, "Yeah, you're alright. Come on, hurry up, this bathroom's a fuckin’ sauna, and I don’t want the croutons to get soggy." Essi burbled an answer about conditioner and almost done, and Lambert took that as his cue to leave.

Dinner was simple: pan fried Salmon with crispy skin (delicate and buttery on the inside); wax beans in butter (tender and not overcooked); grilled brussels sprouts (just beginning to brown on the edges); and a fresh caesar salad. Everything done to perfection. Full, content, and ready to take their relaxation to the next step they settled themselves on Essi’s blue-grey sectional to begin the arduous task of deciding what to watch.

This was proving particularly difficult with the addition of Essi's caveat that whatever they chose not be "too plot-heavy" which so far had included Masterchef, an interior design show, and program about shepherding in the Orkneys.

"Sweetheart, you gotta give me some slack here. I thought I was on track with the sheep!"

"I know, I'm sorry!" Essi muffled into his shirt sleeve. "I do like animals..." She gasped loudly. "BLUE PLANET."

Lambert stopped the endless scrolling and pushed play as the soothing voice of David Attenborough filled the small living room.

"Hey! Why'd you pause it?"

Lambert was standing up, "If we're going to do this, then we're doing it right. Hang on."

Essi slumped on the sofa as the microwave kicked on. In a few minutes, there was popcorn in their laps and half a bottle of vodka on the table with an ice bucket and lemon wedges in a bowl. Lambert read off his phone screen.

"We will take a drink when:

-David says 'Extraordinary' -David uses a clear understatement such as 'But then again, living in an active volcano is not without its risks' -An animal is being eaten -An animal is mating -There is sped up footage of a plant growing."

"Oh no," Essi lamented, chewing her popcorn ungracefully, "I'm going to get so drunk."

"You got it, Goldilocks. Fill up."

And with that, they were off, taking it slow with their vodka twists, but nonetheless feeling the warm buzz start to tingle under their skin. The box of microwave popcorn was empty by halfway through, and the remains of Essi's exhaustion had almost dispersed entirely.

"Ooh! Understatement! Drink!!"

By ten o’clock, pink-cheeked and feeling boisterous, they had finished with their favourite parts of Blue Planet, or at least the ones they had patience for, and had moved on to Planet Earth II.

“Holy fuck, that’s a lot of snakes—Go, you little fucker! Go!”

The drama on the screen had caused the two to separate from one another while Lambert invested himself in the success of the small lizard. Once the baby Galapagos Iguana had made it to safety, they were once again able to recline without Essi risking an elbow to the face.

She bundled against him, scooting farther between his legs where he leaned in the corner of the sectional. He gathered her hair and draped it over her left shoulder so it wouldn't get caught in his buttons—they'd learned that the hard way. It was still damp, cool to the touch, and smelled like verbena sea salt shampoo. He felt a pulse of affection ripple through him as her weight resettled. He loved that feeling. It had taken some time to get used to it. But now it was high on his list of favourite things. He was happy. And it was healthy. And that really was all that mattered.

Right?

Eskel’s words turned themselves around again in his mind as he wrapped his arm around the front of Essi’s shoulders. He let himself indulge in the texture of her cotton knit nightshirt under his fingers. He relished in the peace of mind at being able to just be there with someone who meant something to him and made absolutely no demands. He let himself relax.

Essi felt a kiss land on the top of her head with a playful, "Muwah!"

She giggled quietly, "Thank you!" Then, upon further thought… Did he want to kiss her? Her mind did a double take as she tried to get on top of the ball.

It wasn’t impossible. They were close after all, and she wasn’t opposed to the idea. She’d recently found herself in a balancing act of realizing she could, in theory, have a deeper kind of feeling for Lambert. Only if, for whatever reason, it turned out he felt the same way. These weren’t the helpless uncontrollable feelings of ride-or-die infatuation; they were malleable, translatable, general feelings of affection and fondness that belonged in any number of different relationships and dynamics.

No sense risking it, she thought. They'd found a liminal space of comfort and safety that she'd never experienced with anyone else before, and if the options were between being a little confused and ruining everything, the choice was an easy one. Then again, if Lambert was developing feelings for her, she didn’t want to miss an opportunity. Shit. Her cheeks burned as she felt the question rise closer to her lips.

"Lambert?" she sat up abruptly and turned to her friend who was still moulded into the corner of the couch, watching the mating rituals of exotic birds with bewildered skepticism.

He jolted at Essi’s sudden movement, "Hello, yes."

Her bright blue eyes were now slightly unfocused, "Do you—? Nevermind." She lay back against him, suddenly skittish..

"Mm, nah, try again," he said, sluggishly. "What’s up, buttercup?"

She swayed a little when she sat up, "Are you happy with what we are?"

Lambert blinked, caught slightly off-guard. The question was easy enough to answer, "Yeah! I mean I don’t know what the fuck we are, but I’m feeling pretty good about it. Shit, why? Are you not? I can be less… whatever. Or… more?" It wasn’t like he was repulsed by the idea of anything else happening between them—in theory it was a possibility. In practice, however...

Essi put an emphatic hand on Lambert’s knee, her glassy eyes going wide, "Do you want more?"

"What? No! I dunno, I—maybe. I haven’t really thought about it. I mean…” Lambert searched Essi’s face for any clue that might help him know how to proceed, “I don’t not want anything else. Fuck, I don’t know! I’m used to doing things the other way around. You know the drill: uncomfortable date, smoosh faces together, have sex, hope feelings fall out. Lather-rinse-repeat. I dunno, do we have to… But what if we try something and...? I don’t wanna lose this."

Essi leaned in close and whispered, “I have an idea.”

"Why do I feel like I'm going to regret this?"

"We should kiss."

Lambert nearly swallowed an ice cube, "What?!"

"Just once. Quickly. Just... in case."

"You want me, Lambert, to kiss you, Essi Daven, on the lips."

She nodded sincerely, "For science."

There was a brief pause during which Essi felt the beginnings of panic brewing in her stomach, but by the time she'd finished grappling with potential consequences, Lambert was filling their glasses.

"Alright. Fine. My friend wants me to kiss her for science? Fuck it. I'll drink to that."

They downed their drinks and squared up, knee to knee on the edge of the sofa as they each prepared for their best form—or as good as they could offer given the circumstances. They counted down, 3-2-1...

The kiss was quick, over as soon as it had begun, and both friends pulled away with questioning looks. Inconclusive. They tried again for a little longer, still returning with the same quizzical expressions. They went in for a third time, committing more thoroughly, and for a brief moment it seemed they might have found the semblance of a spark. But it didn’t build. It felt… fine? But no different than if they were lying together on the sofa. It was just another thing they were doing. They each tried to find the right word for what they were feeling, but were soon distracted by the oddness of it all.

Essi started to giggle. Less than a second later, Lambert joined her, and they both pulled away, thoroughly satisfied that their experiment had yielded a strong No on the subject of More. There was a dull thud as Essi slid from the couch and onto the floor, still holding her drink in one hand and laughing hysterically.

Lambert sighed and shook his head, "I think it’s time we got you to bed."

Headaches and dry mouths greeted the two friends the next morning when they blinked awake. Essi’s hair was a cotton-candy mess, having still been slightly damp when Lambert put her to bed. The brunet himself didn’t look much different from his usual scruffy state as he gathered Essi up in an armful of duvet and squeezed tight.

“Gods, Lambert, I still need to breathe,” Essi chuckled, pressing her back into his chest.

“You’ll get over it,” he teased and self-indulgently nuzzled even closer. “You feeling alright? I mean, aside from the hangover. About last night?”

“Oh no,” Essi groaned, “I’m so sorry, Lambert. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just—you kissed my head and then that got me wondering about whether you might want something else, and then I didn’t really know what was happening and—”

“Hey, easy on the rambling, okay, I’m running on limited brain cells, here. Look,” Lambert sat up to find those big blue eyes, now shining brightly, “I have no idea what the fuck this is that we’ve got going on, but I like it fine just the way it is.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And we can keep talking about that. Just, you know, maybe next time something’s on your mind, don’t wait ‘til we’re wasted at 2am?”

“Okay, deal. Can we go get bacon now?”

Lambert chuckled, “Yeah, alright, fine. Make me put pants on, I see how it is.”

Their conversation continued over strong coffee and eggs benedicts. Between their check-in that morning and everything that had happened the previous night, it was well-established that they were perfectly happy where they were. Rather, the main topic of conversation was their growing desire to level with their friends about the nature of their relationship. Eskel and Geralt, they both agreed, would be the easiest—Lambert could tell them that evening. Julian and Essi’s friends on the other hand would be a little more difficult.

Telling Julian together would be best, Essi thought. He was bound to have questions, and if both she and Lambert were there to answer them definitively and explain that no, they didn’t have secret feelings for one another; and yes, they really were just friends and not at all interested in exploring the relationship further thank you very much. Exactly when this discussion with Julian would occur still wasn’t clear. Realistically, they could pick any time, but they decided to wait until Lambert could tell the Old Men. At least then they were assured some less invasive support.

Their reaction was easy enough to predict: Eskel reassuringly repeated his standby “As long as you’re both happy with things…” and twirled a forkful of pasta; Geralt tilted his head thoughtfully and said, “That sounds very nice. I’m happy for you.” Lambert had expected mild disapproval, concern that they were deviating too far from the norm and into a complex dynamic that would be too messy to manage. Instead, Geralt simply said it ‘sounded very nice.’ Lambert smiled into the open refrigerator on his way to get a beer.

The following weekend was Julian’s birthday, and, as per their annual tradition, the group all gathered on Friday evening at the birthday boy’s favourite restaurant—Vegelbud’s. The two decided to tell him the week after his birthday so as not to detract from his Big 3-0. Just one more week, and it would all be in the open. Easy breasy.

The afternoon of the dinner, Eskel and Geralt received a group text: Haven’t told Julian the details yet. Keep the beans to yourselves please (I’m looking at you, @Eskel).

“Why me?” Eskel turned to Geralt over his paperwork, looking a little hurt.

Geralt chuckled, “You have a slight tendency to overshare when you want to be supportive.”

“I do?” He turned on the bar stool to follow his partner on the way upstairs.

“It’s not a bad thing, but…” Geralt sighed, “Lambert has always needed to feel in control of situations like this. He doesn’t want one of us bringing this up before he’s ready to talk about it, especially in a public place, you know how he gets when he feels cornered. And Julian is Essi’s cousin…”

Eskel raised a hand, “You’re right, you’re right. All points taken. Are you showering?”

Geralt smirked as he headed for the stairs, “Come on then.”

Four hours later and halfway through dinner, everything had gone swimmingly. The food had been expectedly delicious, the company and conversation excellent, and so far no one had felt the need to bring up Essi and Lambert’s relationship on any level. That is until Julian got a few drinks under his belt, and decided it was time to document the occasion. Geralt and Eskel were the first victims.

“Aww just look at you two! So in love, so vivacious and full of adoration,” Julian held up his phone as Geralt touched the side of his head to Eskel’s. Beep-Chk! A perfect image of a happy couple was captured and posted to Instagram (#julianturns30 #dinneratvagelbuds #dinnerout #cutiesofinstagram #favoriteotp #gaycouplesofinstagram #livelaughlove…). There were a few more photos of the three of them together, the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake with the candle in it, a group shot taken by the waiter. It was all so close to being over, Essi could practically taste the refuge of the streetcar.

"Come on, lovebirds, show us a smooch!" Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Essi’s stomach lurched and she felt her cheeks start to warm. Lambert’s hand landed gently on her knee under the table, his fingers pressing firmly into her leg as she desperately tried to think of something to say.

"Oh, um..."

Across the table, Geralt and Eskel shared a wordless communication: de-escalate, distract, redirect.

“You’ll want to eat that cheesecake before it gets warm” Geralt offered. “I hear it’s so light it’ll disintegrate in a heartbeat.” Eskel nodded in encouragement, taking a bite of his own.

“I know, I know,” Julian shrugged, “Just a quick one. Say Cheese!”

"Not right now, Julian," Essi tilted her head, her eyes flashing a little.

"Oh come on, Poppet! I know you don't like PDA, it's just one little picture--"

“Don’t call me Poppet.”

Eskel cleared his throat loudly, "Doesn't seem they're that keen on it. Maybe let's try for one another time."

"It's past your one-month-a-versary, let everyone see how in love you are."

"Julian," Geralt growled, "leave it."

Julian covered his mouth in alarm, "I’m so sorry, have you not used that word yet? I didn’t mean anything by it, I just want the world to see how happy my beautiful cousin is!"

“Really Julian, it’s not necessary we—” Essi’s fingernails were starting to dig into Lambert’s palm from the sheer effort of maintaining composure. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or disappear, and with neither of those being an option, it seemed the only possible escape was for them to kiss. They’d done it before. No big deal. It would feel off, but they’d just go back to her place and drink about it after.

“Essi, what’s the matter with you, it’s just one little picture, and we all know you’re not camera-shy. On three, ready? One, two…”

"For fuck's sake we're not dating!"

The table all silently turned their attention to Essi whose cheeks had been turning progressively redder.

“What?” Her cousin laughed incredulously.

“We’re not a couple, Julian. We’re friends. We have been from the beginning, but we didn’t want to tell you because we knew you wouldn’t fucking leave us alone until you could boast about having set us up.”

Lambert shared a brief look with Eskel before lowering his eyes to the tablecloth, his hand still firmly clutched in Essi’s.

Julian gaped, “So, it was all… the cuddling, the laughing, that time I came over and you were asleep on the couch, that was all… a ruse?”

“No, Julian, that was real. I told you, we’re friends.”

“That’s not friends! Since when have friends watched a movie half-on-top of each other?”

“Two people can enjoy each other's company lying flat, Julian,” Eskel’s rich voice interjected across the table and the discussion ground to a halt.

Geralt shrugged with his tea at his lips, “It is the twenty-first century after all.”

Julian’s cornflower blue eyes flitted back and forth between the two friends, utterly bewildered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well what with your complete and utter invasion of privacy for the sake of hooking us up, we didn’t necessarily trust you to believe us,” Essi answered curtly, her hand shaking slightly.

“Poppet, you could have just told me—”

“Stop. Calling me that. And I did tell you, Julian!” she exploded. “I told you the first day I moved here. The first. Day. I said, ‘Julian, I think I want to take a break from dating until I’ve been settled for a year.’ And what did you do? Conspired with my well-meaning former mentor to hook me up with someone I had one good conversation with at a Christmas party. And do you know what? We are happy. But we’re happy in our own way. And maybe our boundaries with each other seem a little strange to you, but we’re not fooling ourselves. We don’t want to kiss each other, we don’t want to have sex, and we don’t want a relationship. And even though it’s absolutely none of your damn business, I’ll tell you anyway: we’ve talked about it. All of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t think I want to be here anymore.”

The chair legs scraped against the floor of the restaurant as Essi stood to leave, throwing her purse over her shoulder as she went. Lambert looked hesitantly around the table, “I should probably, you know…” He gestured after Essi with his thumb. Eskel gave Lambert the go ahead and he quickly stood to follow his friend out of the restaurant, leaving a very stunned Julian with the other two. He found her perched on the parking barrier in the small lot to the left of the front doors. He called to her and she looked up. Eyes shining, mascara running...

“Ah shit, you know I’m no good with this kind of thing.”

“I’m sorry, Lambert, I just—” she blew her nose, “—he just wouldn’t stop and I didn’t know what to do or say, and it all just came pouring out. I didn’t want it to. The whole time I was begging myself to stop, but I just couldn’t, it’s been bottled up for so long and-and—but it’s his birthday, and—oh, he must feel so awful! I didn’t want to make him feel bad, but—and with Eskel and Geralt there too! They must think I’m horrible! I’m so sorry, Lambert, I didn’t want it to be like this, I wanted to have him over and sit him down and be patient, and instead I’ve just made a complete mess of things. And on his birthday! It’s his birthday, oh God, this is the worst thing I could have done.” Essi choked back bitter tears as she tried desperately to stem the flow with her soggy tissue, “Are you upset with me, Lambert? If you are, I understand. Maybe we should take a break of some kind, you know. Not see each other for a while and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it right there. Look, I’m probably not going to say any of the right stuff here, but I am absolutely not upset with you. You got that? And for what it’s worth, I don’t think us taking a break from spending time together is going to do anything. Unless you’re looking to punish yourself by taking away a nice thing which, okay. But the fact that you’re willing to ditch me instead of Arbor Mist says something about our friendship I’m not too pleased with.”

Essi turned her wide, pleading, bloodshot eyes to Lambert who cracked a smile, “Jesus, I’m kidding! You adorable fucking mess, c’mere.” He pulled his petite friend into a hug and rested his chin on the top of her head until she quieted down. Neither of them was quite sure how much time had gone by, but Essi found herself wishing it had been long enough for everyone to have gone home so she didn’t have to face whatever aftermath she’d left behind.

Meanwhile, Eskel and Geralt had settled the bill and offered to give Julian a lift back to their place for a night cap, not wanting to leave the evening on such an unsettled note. Essi needed space, and whatever company she needed, Lambert was clearly capable of providing. It was for the best, they suggested, and dissuaded Julian from trying to call her.

“Best to sleep on things,” Geralt said, tucking his card back into his wallet and giving the waiter a nod in gratitude. “We can meet for coffee this weekend and sort this out. For now, just let her cool down.”

Eskel clapped Julian encouragingly on the shoulder as they made their way into the damp summer night air. As they turned into the parking lot, they came face-to-face with Essi and Lambert who had clearly just turned to come back inside. Both cousins looked like they had seen better days: Essi’s eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks blotchy and streaked with inky makeup stains; Julian was perhaps less dishevelled, but the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, his boyish features now dejectedly weighted down with remorse and hurt.

“Juian, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

Essi’s cousin raised his hand, “Don’t. Please don’t. Essi, I am so, so sorry. I never meant to push you like that, I didn't realize... you both have been so happy this last month and—"

"It's okay, really, we can talk about this all another time. I'm just so sorry I ruined your birthday. We wanted to sit down with you and talk properly but..." Essi's tears welled up again, and Julian smiled weakly.

"But we both did what we always do?"

She sniffed, nodding emphatically with a tearful, "Yeah.” Julian pulled his cousin into a fond embrace while the other three clumped together to watch the reconciliation.

“Oh! Here,” Essi reached into her purse and pulled out a small, neatly-wrapped box. “Happy birthday!”

Julian opened his gift without a second thought, his face brightening instantly. The box contained a set of premium ultra-light guitar strings and a pair of concert tickets. The perfect gift. Overwhelmed with gratitude, and the atmosphere having been recovered, Julian suggested they all attend brunch together that Sunday morning, his treat by way of apology. Geralt offered to split the bill as a peace offering for his part in the initial setup, and the five made a date.

A fresh start, a promise of spending time together with fewer secrets and, Julian conceded, a few more boundaries.

#witcher rarepair summer bingo #wrsb #Platonic #queerplatonic #no romo #Geralt/Eskel #Essbert #Gereskel #Jaskier #Julian Alfred Pankratz #alcohol #drunkenness #Essi & Lambert #Essi Daven #Lambert

17 notes · View notes

reyescarlos · 4 years

Text

all through the night || a tarlos fic

❄️ @911giftexchange fic for @buckieys ❄️

happy holidays, sy! i'm wishing you a wonderful and prosperous new year. i hope this fic helps to usher in 2021 right!

word count: 5.2k || read on ao3

All through the night I'll be awake and I'll be with you All through the night This precious time when time is new

When Carlos envisioned winter in New York, his elaborate fantasies had somehow managed to eclipse the reality of what it might actually entail. He had enjoyed his brief stay, taking in the window displays along Fifth Avenue. It had long since been something he wanted to see for himself and the storefronts had more than delivered. But on the flipside of such a picturesque scene has come the downside of what heavy amounts of snow could mean.

It’s why he finds himself now planted in a too hard seat at JFK Airport, wondering how he’ll possibly fill his time now that his flight has been delayed until morning. Outside the blizzard rages on with no real end in sight and Carlos mulls over the merits of his decision to leave Texas in the New Year and make this city his home. This is a far cry from Austin. He’d once thought winter temperatures there could be bad but it’s been nothing compared to the arctic blast in the North.

He tries to keep busy with a book but his attention is split between the words before him and the cute guy across from him frantically digging inside his backpack, a phone teetering dangerously on his knee.

“God, where is that stupid thing,” the man mumbles to himself. “Come on charger, where are you?”

Carlos looks away, burying his head in his book to hide the smile that breaks out on his face. The guy is obviously peeved but Carlos can’t help but to find his muttering endearing. After another moment of fruitless searching on the stranger’s end, Carlos takes mercy on him.

“Here, you can borrow mine,” he says, unzipping his own backpack and fishing out his charger.

The man sighs in relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he replies, reaching over and taking the cord from Carlos.

He settles back and plugs it into the wall, the screen lighting up a moment later. Carlos smiles politely and gets back to reading, only to be interrupted.

“So, I take it you’re heading down to visit family before the new year comes, huh?” the stranger says.

Carlos looks up from his book, head tilting slightly. It hadn’t been expecting the man to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, awkward small talk. I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, face scrunching as he gestures to the book in Carlos’ hands.

Carlos waves him off, bookmarking his page and closing it.

“No worries. We’re here all night so...plenty of time for that.” He licks his lips and drums his fingers against the front. “To answer your question though, no. Austin is actually my home so I’m just heading back.”

“Oh, cool. I’m going to see my dad. I thought he’d want to do the whole white Christmas, New York for the New Year thing but ever since he moved down to Austin last year, I think he’s gotten spoiled by the warmer weather.”

The man looks out of the window where the snow is swirling so heavily it’s hard to even see the sky or planes sitting idly on the tarmac.

“Guess I can’t exactly blame him.”

Carlos laughs. “It’s disgustingly cold here and all of that,” he says, gesturing to the storm, “doesn’t help. I don’t know how you guys manage.”

“You get used to it. I’ve only ever grown up with it so while I like to complain about the snow at times, I can’t picture this time of year without it. It’s been a few years since it’s been this bad though, I’ll admit.”

Carlos smiles a bit, looking out of the window briefly. “This is actually my first time experiencing snow. And the city was gracious enough to give me a blizzard to commemorate.”

The man smiles at this thoughtfully. He sits up, stretching his hand out across the aisle towards Carlos.

“I’m TK, by the way.”

Carlos touches his fingertips to his forehead before shaking TK’s hand.

“God, my mother would be so ashamed of my manners right now,” he laughs. “I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet you.”

He lets go, his palm feeling extremely warm from TK’s touch. TK smiles at him, a slow grin that ultimately reveals his teeth. This man is very good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s got an easy way about him that makes Carlos feel comfortable in his presence as if they’re old friends catching up and not perfectly good strangers meeting for the first time.

TK’s phone buzzes, stealing his attention and Carlos is all too grateful for it. TK types something on the device for a few seconds before pausing.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” he says, putting his phone to his ear.

Carlos nods and gestures for him to go for it.

“Hey, Dad. I—,” TK starts out but stops short as his father speaks. “I bet it’s all over the news but I’m alright. Not looking forward to being stuck here overnight but,” he continues, his eyes landing on Carlos and away so quickly Carlos is sure he’s imagined it. “I guess there are worse ways to be trapped for a few hours.”

Carlos looks away then, cracking open his book again to keep himself occupied while TK chats with his father. He tries not to dwell heavily on TK’s look or what the implications of that glance could mean. It could’ve been a coincidence and nothing more. All the same, it doesn’t make his heart race any less to think that TK feels a spark too.

TK ends the call with a sigh, stretching out his legs before bouncing one of them. The gesture is distracting but endearing. For the second time, Carlos closes his book, this time putting it back into his bag for good as TK speaks to him again.

“Are you hungry? I could go for a bite.”

“I could eat,” Carlos says. He rises from his seat as TK does, both men dragging their carry-ons along with them.

They follow the winding path down from their gate, Carlos taking notice of all the fellow flyers now forced to wait out the storm. Some have taken to stretching out on the ground, laying on top of jackets like makeshift sleeping bags, others keeping busy with phones and tablets, hunched over in chairs.

Carlos isn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable sleep he’ll have tonight but as he looks over at TK, he wonders just how much rest he’ll actually manage to get. The guy is already proving himself to be a good way to pass the time and Carlos can’t say he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to keep chatting with him.

As they approach the cluster of food stands, TK groans and it’s easy to see why. Many of the shops are already closed, no doubt the employees hurrying home before the worst of the storm kicked in. All that’s available now is Cinnabon but Carlos supposes that can suffice as dinner.

TK orders a hot chocolate and a classic roll while Carlos opts for a cold brew in addition to a roll as well. TK eyes the drink with raised brows.

“I’m fully committing to the cause of being awake until we board, apparently,” Carlos muses, pushing his straw through the lid and taking a sip. “Worth it.”

The two head to a nearby empty table, settling into their elevated seats before unloading their food. The scent coming off the baked goods is incredible and Carlos’ stomach suddenly feels desperate for a bite.

“So, Carlos, since we’ve nominated each other for the buddy system while we wait this storm out,” he jokes, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Carlos drums his fingers on the tabletop as he tries to decide what to share.

“Well, you already know that Austin is where I’m from but the whole reason I’m even here now is because I’m going to be moving to New York soon. I’ll be transferring next month.”

TK’s brows raise. “Seriously? That’s awesome. Do you mind if I ask what you do?”

“I’m a police officer. I’ve been with the Austin Police Department for a few years but I’ve been considering leaving Texas for a little while now and I’ve been exploring my options. For some reason my mind kept coming back to the idea of New York and I figured I should just take the chance and see what happens.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man, well, we have something in common, more or less. I’m with the NYFD myself.”

Carlos holds up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re a firefighter?” he laughs.

TK puffs out his chest jokingly and nods with a grin on his face. “That’s right. Ladder 252.”

Carlos does his best to push the image of TK in uniform from mind but the picture is an appealing one. He can see it so clearly, the way he’d look in suspenders, not to mention full gear. It’s almost unfair just how much hotter the man becomes as if Carlos hasn’t spent this whole time finding him attractive. He picks up his drink again for something to do with his hands, swirling the straw inside of the cup.

“Small world. Outside of my own little bubble, I can’t say I casually meet many people who are first responders. We seem to be a pretty special breed to get into this line of work.”

TK laughs. “I fell into this because of my dad. He’s been a firefighter for years. He, uh, actually was on site during 9/11. I always thought he was incredible but knowing the full scope of what he and so many others did that day and for people in times of crisis, big and small in general, it just made me want to be like him.”

Carlos frowns, unsure of what to even say or think. “Your dad’s a hero.”

“I like to think so.” TK draws in a breath, squaring his shoulders. “Anyway, now he’s kicking ass down in Texas so, even though I miss him as my captain, I know he’s doing great work with his crew down there.”

Curiosity gets the better of Carlos as he asks, “What station is he with?”

“The 126,” TK replies, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Carlos’ eyes widen. “Captain Owen Strand is your father?”

It makes sense the longer he looks at TK. Captain Strand is an attractive older guy and TK clearly got handed some solid genes. Still, it throws him for a loop to realize they have a legitimate connection to each other.

TK tilts his head to the side. “You know him? Shit, okay, wow, small world just got a whole hell of a lot smaller.”

“Unbelievable,” Carlos laughs in disbelief. “I don’t know him that well but we work together sometimes on calls. He’s amazing in the field and he’s really turned that station around.”

TK practically beams. “Guess this means we’ll be seeing each other again soon once we finally make it to Austin then.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so. Assuming you don’t get sick of me before this night is through, that is.”

TK holds Carlos’ gaze for a moment and if it were anyone else, it would be unnerving but something in TK’s stare just sends a thrill through Carlos, excites him in a way no stranger has ever really gotten under his skin.

“I don’t see that happening,” he says plainly, as if this is an irrefutable fact and not something that’s truly subject to change.

Carlos doesn’t argue the point. He merely enjoys the next few hours, seeing just how easily TK’s theory pans out.

~*~*~

The contrast in weather between New York and Austin is one of the first things Carlos’ remarks on as he steps outside of Austin-Bergstrom. He’s never been more grateful for a forty degree afternoon. He’s kept Michelle updated about his new set time and he waits patiently outside of arrivals. Beside him now, TK types out a message on his phone before smiling over at him.

Carlos has had hours to get used to that look on TK’s face and yet he’s still brought up short. Last night and the early morning hours were spent talking to TK about everything imaginable, trading stories about crazy calls they’ve been on and even touching on personal things like their families. When they grew tired of talking, they watched movies on TK’s laptop, fighting off the urge to sleep for the mere sake of hanging out.

It isn’t rare for Carlos to become friendly with a person but this connection to TK feels different in a way he can’t quite parse.

By the time their flight boarded, Carlos knocked out for the entire length of the trip but it had been worth it in his eyes to stay up and take advantage of the uninterrupted time that stretched before him with TK. It was safe to say a bit of a crush had formed, as absurd as Carlos felt for it. TK was going to be in town for the next few days and that prospect was both thrilling and terrifying. If he could feel this close to TK in one night, there’s no telling what could happen in a few days.

Before he can get lost in that thought, Carlos sees Michelle as she pulls up to the curb, the trunk popping open.

“Are you good out here?”

“My dad’s coming in just a minute. I’ll be just fine,” TK muses as Carlos puts his carry-on inside and slams the trunk shut.

“Alright, well. You have my number now so text me whenever you’re free. I’ll show you a few places while you’re here.”

Carlos extends his hand but TK rolls his eyes jokingly and pulls him into a half hug instead.

“We’ve spent the night together, Carlos. I think we’re past handshakes now.”

Carlos’ face burns with TK’s wording but the man merely laughs.

“See you soon?”

Carlos just nods and finds the wherewithal to get inside of Michelle’s car. He waves after he buckles himself in, TK lifting a hand in response.

“Okay, who is that?” Michelle asks immediately, head turned to take in the sight of TK.

Carlos tips his head back against the seat. “You won’t believe the night I’ve had.”

~*~*~

Carlos has spent two days showing TK some of his favorite stomping grounds. TK relished in all that Austin had to offer and Carlos has been happy to see that their closeness from the unexpected overnight at the airport hadn’t been a fluke. If anything, these outings have only made Carlos feel closer to TK.

Michelle has been relentless in her teasing, finding it all too amusing that Carlos managed to cross paths with Captain Strand’s son of all people. She’d clung to his every word during the ride home from the airport as he filled her in on how he waited out the storm.

The 126 meets at their usual bar and Carlos is glad for this post-work gathering. It’s the perfect time to show TK what a real honky-tonk is like, further immersing him in the culture of the state his father now resides.

TK sits next to him at the table, the large group so packed in that his leg presses against Carlos’. It’s light but it’s enough to make the point of contact all Carlos can focus on even as everyone else at the table engages in conversations that overlap, laughing amongst themselves. He does his best to ignore it but it’s difficult not to take notice of each shift TK makes. Michelle keeps looking at him and Carlos, to the best of his abilities, avoids her gaze knowing that it’ll make it just that much more difficult to act as if he isn’t freaking out internally.

“I’m gonna get another. You want anything?” Carlos asks TK.

TK shakes his head. “No, I’m alright but thank you though.”

Carlos nods once and gets up, finding it much easier to breathe already now that he’s no longer sitting beside TK. Michelle catches his eye as he leaves from the table and he can hear her shoes as she follows behind him to the bar. She rests against the counter facing the room at large as Carlos gets the attention of the bartender and asks for another beer.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Michelle laughs at his side.

“Chelle,” he groans, shaking his head.

She merely laughs again, bumping her hip against his. “When did your life become a romantic comedy?”

“I must’ve missed the memo myself because this sure snuck up on me.”

The bartender sets a bottle down in front of him but Carlos doesn’t move. This little reprieve away from everyone but Michelle right now is welcome.

“I like him. He’s nice. Really cute too.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” he deadpans, looking over his shoulder at TK.

He looks so at home here, hanging out and laughing with these people he’s, up until now, only known secondhand from his father’s work stories. TK is personable as ever, Carlos knows all too well. Had he not been swept away after one night in the man’s company?

“I think this is so great.”

“Funny, I think it’s the universe trying to mess with me.”

Michelle scoffs, finally turning to face the bar like him. “There are worse things in the world than a seemingly perfect guy practically falling into your lap. We should all be so lucky.”

Carlos casts the mental image aside, taking a sip of his drink. “The timing though. I can’t think about guys right now. I need to be figuring out my next set of moves for New York.”

“If those plans just so happen to include an attractive new friend…,” she trails off with a grin.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to screw this up because yeah, he is a new friend and we get along well, it’s a good feeling.”

“Do you like him?”

Carlos falters. “I barely even know the guy.”

“That’s not even remotely close to what I asked you.”

Carlos scratches at his forehead before letting out a sigh. “I do. Which hardly makes any sense at all. It’s only been a few days and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Michelle shakes her head. “No, actually. I don’t think so. You guys had such a cute introduction to each other and you clearly hit it off. Some people just click and are meant to meet. The fact that you two had a connection to each other beforehand without even knowing it? I think there’s something to be said for that.”

“What, you think it’s fate or something?”

Michelle shrugs. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Your flight could have been a day earlier or even a few hours before his. On a plane filled with hundreds, you connected with him, Captain Strand’s son who just so happens to live in the city you’re about to move to. I think it’s worth seeing just how far it could go. If you ask me, you’ll wind up with a boyfriend in no time.”

Carlos mulls it over for a moment. He can admit he is in fact curious. It’s been a while since he’s felt this drawn to someone and with TK, it’s been as natural as breathing since they first met. The timing is less than ideal but it’s been so long since Carlos has felt this urge to get close to someone, since he’s felt safe enough to even open his mind and heart up to the possibility.

“Maybe you’re onto something.”

“One of these days you’ll learn to just accept my brilliance, no questions asked. But this will do for now.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing her temple.

“I’m going moments like this with you,” he says.

Michelle sighs and pats his back. “I will too but we still have time on the clock, right? Let’s not think about that now.”

Carlos sighs, knowing she’s right. It just feels as if these moments are slipping through his fingers, the new year and all its changes lurking just around the corner.

~*~*~

As customary, the Ryder house is the staple for parties among the team and New Year’s Eve is no different. Carlos has lost track of how many times he’s sat on their couch or been treated for Grace’s incredible home-cooking. It’s always been a source of comfort for him, being surrounded by these colleagues who have become an extended family to him.

This time next year, he’ll be in another time zone, familiarized with a new group of people. Carlos knows he’s jumping the gun. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll be able to visit back home and that this collection of people will still love him as they do now.

Carlos looks around the living room, taking stock: Marjan blowing into a noise maker in Mateo’s face and bursting into laughter, Paul shaking his head and dropping his face into his palm. Over by the kitchen he sees Grace and Judd swaying to the music playing as Captain Strand takes Michelle’s hand and begins dancing alongside the other couple. It warms Carlos’ heart and breaks it too, seeing this all for what will be the last time with this city being home.

Suddenly the room feels too small and he finds himself heading for the door, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack. It’s cold out but Carlos remembers just how bitter the weather in New York was. This is nothing compared to that. And it’s this thought that twists at his heart a bit more, one more reminder of how much his life is set to change sooner than he thinks he’s ready for.

The new year is biting at his heels and time is just slipping by. Logically he knows that he shouldn’t be outside now, that he would be wise to savor these memories with his Austin crew while they’re here rather than lament later. But it all feels like too much and the last thing he wants is to let his pensive mood be a dark cloud over a celebratory and joyous time.

Carlos keeps walking until he reaches the park nearby the Ryder household. Naturally it’s abandoned as everyone is tucked away inside their homes either enjoying a quiet night in or throwing parties like the Ryders. Carlos draws in a breath and takes a seat on one of the swings, his fingers clutching on to the links. He quickly stands up the second he hears footsteps approaching, a figure walking towards him.

“It’s just me,” comes TK’s voice and sure enough the man’s features come into focus the closer he gets until he’s settling into the swing beside Carlos.

“I saw you take off. I just wanted to check that you were okay.”

Carlos smiles a bit. “I appreciate it. I’m okay. I’m just...thinking about a lot right now.”

TK sways on his swing, letting a comfortable silence fall between them before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Carlos’ heart and thoughts feel so heavy now, such a contrast to how lighthearted and hopeful this holiday is meant to be. But TK looks at him with such genuine care that he finds himself almost desperate to unburden himself a bit.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stop time, you know? But hell, it’s New Year’s Eve. What more proof do I need that life is always moving forward?”

Carlos sighs and rocks slightly back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a downer. You should head on back inside, have fun with the others.”

TK is silent beside him, long enough for Carlos to pull his gaze toward the other man. TK is eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You’re scared about what comes next. That’s totally normal. Moving away, starting a new life somewhere else, it’s a big step. A huge change.”

Carlos frowns as he nods. “I wish I could see the end, you know? I wish I could see if it’s all worth it, that I’m making the right choice.”

TK hums in thought. “Well, the best way out is through, right?”

“So you don’t think it’s a mistake to move out to New York?”

TK shrugs. “I don’t know you well enough to say one way or the other for sure. But no, I don’t think it is. I think the fact that you’re even considering it at all should tell you something about how you feel about where you are now.”

Carlos grows quiet, considering the man’s words. But TK isn’t done dishing out his opinion.

“You’ve got an amazing team here, there’s no denying that. It’s a real family, not to mention your actual family is here too. But—and mind you I’m super biased here— New York is an amazing place to be, to live. If you’re feeling restless in Austin, I think New York is the perfect alternative.”

Carlos laughs at this. “So, so biased,” he muses.

TK jokingly puffs up his chest. “Hey, it’s not my fault people have written songs about it and flock to it from all corners of the world,” he jokes. “And all of them, like you would, find home.”

A soft sigh escapes Carlos’ lips as he grips the chain link of the swing.

“That does actually sound pretty nice. I’d miss everyone here like crazy but maybe it’s time for something new? I don’t know. I keep waiting for something extraordinary to happen but nothing ever really changes around here. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I just—“

“You’ve outgrown it,” TK says simply. “And there’s nothing wrong with that either.”

Carlos smiles at him and nods. “I suppose not, no.”

“At least you’ll come to the city knowing someone; you won’t be alone or completely starting from scratch.”

“You? You would take that on?”

TK rolls his eyes. “Of course me. You think I’d leave you high and dry? Damn, I know New Yorkers have a bit of a rep but jeez,” he teases.

Carlos laughs. “I only meant...you barely even know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Maybe so but I’d like to get to know you better. And if we’re gonna be calling the same city home, it’s kind of perfect. You get a new job, a new city, a new friend. Pretty sweet package, if you ask me.”

“You’ll be my tour guide then? You can take me to all the hot spots, Central Park and Times Square for starters.”

TK shakes his head in dismay. “God, Times Square,” he groans. “Hell on earth but sure, just for you I’d make the exception.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos says, placing a hand over his heart.

“As you should be. There aren’t many reasons I’d willingly go there so you should be patting yourself on the back right now.”

Carlos raises a brow. “But you’re thinking I’d be worth it?”

TK’s face grows serious. “In a lot of ways I’m thinking you would be, yes.”

Carlos' face flushes a bit and he looks away, down at his feet as he begins to kick out in earnest to start swinging.

Not for the first time since meeting TK he isn’t sure if there’s more to his words just below the surface, if he’s flirting or just being naturally charismatic. It shouldn’t matter either way, Carlos tells himself. Starting up a new relationship when so much in his life is already about to change doesn’t seem smart.

And yet it’s difficult to bear that in mind when he looks over and sees that TK is still watching him. The man smiles softly and follows Carlos' lead, swinging a bit.

In the distance Carlos can hear the rise in voices from houses where everyone is celebrating, just waiting to usher in the new year.

“One minute to go,” TK says, looking at the time on his watch and digging his feet into the ground to stop himself.

Carlos keeps going, breathing in the last dregs of this year before it’s gone with the tick of the clock. He looks up at the pinpricks of stars above, almost glistening in the clear sky. He closes his eyes, soaks in the moment, the last few seconds of this year winding down.

The New Years party goers can be heard shouting their countdown and beside him, TK joins in quietly as well.

Carlos opens his eyes once more and holds his breath as he upward, counting down the last few seconds in his head. This year is going, going...

Gone.

He exhales as shouts from the neighboring houses rent the air. He stops swinging then, digging his feet into the hard earth beneath him as he looks over at TK. Beside him the man’s face is flushed, the tip of his nose pink from the cold but his gaze is unrelenting as he leans forward.

Carlos’ body seems to move on its own accord, closing the distance between them as well. He doesn’t think about anything other than what TK’s lips will feel like and before he realizes it, he’s getting his answer.

It’s a chaste kiss, truly just a meeting of mouths in a gentle press but it warms Carlos from the center all the way through his entire body. TK’s lips are soft and warm despite the cold.

“Happy New Year, Carlos,” TK says softly.

Carlos doesn’t have the slightest clue of what the road ahead will look like exactly but it’s enough to know that in some capacity, TK is going to be a part of it. Be it as a friend or something more, it makes Carlos hopeful to see how life will unfold, what other surprises it may have in store.

Carlos stares at him for a moment and it seems as if TK and the whole world is holding its breath as they sit in silence together. This feeling in his chest is so unlike anything Carlos has experienced before. He likes to think things through, to anticipate at least three steps ahead but his future is such a blank slate that it’s truly anyone’s guess as to what will happen next. All he can do is control this present moment and as Carlos sees it, kissing TK is the only thing on his agenda for right now.

He leans in again and kisses the man once more, deeply this time, hand cradling the back of TK’s neck.

Maybe this is risky, maybe this will only complicate his life further when he settles in New York and has to figure out what this all means. But in this moment, that all feels like a lifetime away, a page from a chapter that hasn’t been written yet. There’s only the here and now with this beautiful man that fills him with possibilities.

63 notes · View notes

iam93percentstardust · 4 years

Text

Spirit Bright and Beautiful

Written for @starkbucksbingo and this means a bingo for me! See below the cut for bingo details

Also on ao3 here

He has a safe house.

Of sorts.

Not really a safe house. It’s an office space under construction, abandoned when the project ran out of money. Still, it’s safe and the important part is that it has a view of the tower and so James can see the Avengers when they’re coming and going. He can watch what they’re doing—not when they’re in the tower itself because the windows are tinted—but he can see when they leave and where they’re going. He never follows them, not with the Black Widow and the SHIELD agent on the team. But they don’t usually go far unless it’s a special event or a mission and if it’s a mission, James wouldn’t want to follow them anyway and if it’s a special event, he can usually watch it on the shitty TV he stole out of someone’s garbage.

James prides himself on being impossible to sneak up on. HYDRA’s training was good for that at least. So he hears the light steps coming up the stairs. He hears and he tenses because he doesn’t recognize those footsteps. He doubts it’s HYDRA—they’re usually heavier—and he doesn’t think it’s the Black Widow because he thinks he could count himself lucky if he actually heard her coming and she’s out on a mission right now anyway so that means it’s someone else.

Someone, who is apparently huffing and complaining about damn super soldiers who could do this without even breathing hard and—

A face with fluffy brown hair, big and warm eyes, and the most ridiculous beard James thinks he’s ever seen pokes its head around the corner.

“Freezer Pop?” the face asks and James suddenly recognizes it as belonging to Tony Stark, Iron Man, one of HYDRA’s do-not-engages long before he became a superhero. “Bucky Bear, you in here?”

He shouldn’t give away his position so easily. Then again, Stark is a friend of Steve’s and he remembers Steve. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Steve again but he at least knows he’s a friend.

“What’s a freezer pop?” he asks, voice rusty from disuse. He emerges from behind one of the plastic sheets, flicking the switchblade he’d been holding closed. He doesn’t use guns anymore, can’t stand the sight of the things, and it’s not like he can’t defend himself with just a knife anyway.

Stark’s eyes dart to the knife, skitter away to take in the sight of the construction. “It’s a snack,” he begins and then stops, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else. James can’t help but wonder what he’d been planning on saying. “Is this where you’ve been staying? Cause I’ll be honest with you, this is…not great.”

James huffs out a laugh. “Better than the street,” he says and doesn’t say that he’s been on the street before.

Stark seems to hear it anyway though if the way his mouth twists is any indication. “It’s not like you’ve only got two options here,” he points out. “You could—”

“I don’t want to,” James interrupts, already feeling the panic creeping up on him. “I don’t—I could hurt—and Steve—”

He almost doesn’t see Stark move and his hand twitches for his knife before Stark stops only a few feet away from. The panic comes on fast and heavy then, overwhelming him. When did he sit down? When did he scramble backward from Stark sitting as well? When did—he tucks his head between his knees, screaming to drown out the static in his head.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to become James again but when he raises his head again, he thinks the light has shifted. Stark is still sitting there though, still a few feet away, silently tapping on a tablet. He looks up when James uncurls from his ball, putting the tablet down beside him.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Stark says quietly. “I know I can be an asshole but I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he rasps.

“I know you’re not ready. And I don’t really blame you. But Steve and the Murder Twins are out on a mission for the next two months and Sam is still in D.C. and Bruce and Thor are at their love nest in Greece that they think I don’t know about.” He rolls his eyes and the corner of James’ mouth twitches in a smile. “I’m just worried about you.”

And that—that’s just—“No one asked you to worry about me,” he points out.

Stark nods. “I know. But you can’t stop me from doing it anyway so here, I wanted to give you this.” He slides the tablet across the floor, stopping only when it taps against James’ foot.

He picks it up slowly, reminding himself that Stark wouldn’t kill him, not with a tablet leastways. “What is it?”

“Videos, mostly,” Stark says with a deceptively casual shrug.

“Of what?”

“The team. J says you’ve been watching us for a while and he’s pretty sure that you’re looking to see if it’s safe to come in, which I doubt you can figure out from watching the outside so I brought you this so you can watch the inside too.” He frowns. “That came out wrong. Look, I’m scared of Natasha too so I don’t blame you so I just thought maybe you’d like video of her throwing cereal at Clint because he drank all the milk.”

He unfolds his legs and stands up. “I’ll leave you to it. Just to warn you though, I’m coming back tomorrow with dinner. Gotta do something while I’m benched.” He taps his side like James is supposed to know what that means and then disappears before James can ask him either about his ribs or about the mysterious J.

True to his word, Stark is back the next day with something in a large paper bag that smells so good it makes James’ mouth water. He’s been eating mostly day-old sandwiches from the sandwich shop next to the office building he’s staying in and frankly, he’s tired of it but he’s not willing to go any further than right next door.

“You watched any of it?” Stark asks him, tossing the bag into his lap.

James fishes out two containers of what looks like spaghetti and a smaller bag of breadsticks. He sticks one of the breadsticks in his mouth so that he can avoid saying something when he nods.

Stark gives him an amused looks and then waits for him to finish swallowing before saying, “What did you think?”

…He doesn’t know what to say to that.

He’s been watching and he’s seen what Stark had talked about with the Black Widow throwing cereal at Barton. And he’s seen Dr. Banner trip over the god’s hammer and not even turn a shade before yelling at him about leaving his things in the halls. And he’s even seen Stark and Steve cheerfully bickering with each other—and that’s barely even a fraction of the videos on the tablet he’d been given.

He sees all of this but it doesn’t really make sense in his mind at the moment. Where are the fights? The arguments? The full-on hatred that expresses itself in sneers and glares?

“It’s fine,” he mutters. “Looks nice.”

Stark frowns but he doesn’t press the issue. For that, James is grateful. He still doesn’t have all of his memories back but he’s pretty sure that if it were Steve standing here in front of him, he’d be a lot pushier about this. Stark, though, Stark just sits down next to him and chatters about how much it sucks that he cracked two ribs and so he can’t be on the mission with everyone else. He doesn’t mind that James doesn’t do anything but sit next to him and eat his spaghetti. He talks enough to fill the entire room on his own.

It’s kind of nice.

The thing is, the Avengers are apparently nothing like HYDRA. They actively seem to like and trust each other. Their playful ribbing is nothing more than silly banter. Their light touches are warm hugs and not backstabbing embraces. They have movie nights and game nights and morning yoga sessions and in between it all, they hang out together and laugh and talk and love.

The thing is, Tony is warm and cheerful and lovely. James can’t remember the last time he thought that about anything, let alone a person. But as Tony comes over every single evening with delicious food—never homecooked because he says he can’t be trusted around a kitchen—and talks about everything and nothing all at once, James finds himself relaxing more and more around him.

The thing is, Tony clearly loves the team, treats them like they’re his family. He buys them extravagant gifts and goes shopping with Natasha and helps Bruce with dinner preparations. He spends hours in front of the TV with Clint, throwing popcorn at the screen during trashy soap operas. He poses for Steve’s art and he never complains when Thor hugs him just a little too hard.

The things is—if Tony can just choose who his family is, then maybe James can too.

“The team comes back next week,” Tony tells him one night.

James nods slowly. He knows. He’s been keeping track of the days ever since that first night when Tony had told him they would be gone for two months. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they should be back in five days.

“What do you think?” Tony asks. “You’ve seen the footage. You know what we’re like. You ready to come out of the cold yet?”

It’s quiet for a long time. James’ stomach growls, reminding him that even though he’d polished off the serving Tony had brought for him, he’s still hungry. He had been eyeing Tony’s food up until this question (truthfully, he’s still debating tugging it closer to him; Tony never minds) but he wants to think about this first.

Tony waits for him patiently, still doesn’t push. He loves that about him honestly. He’s thought before that he liked it but he thinks now that it might go deeper than that. His…feelings for Tony as a whole might go deeper than that. And if that’s really how he feels, then he thinks there’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for Tony.

“Maybe,” he says eventually, still turning the idea over in his mind. “’m still a little scared.”

Tony nods and stands, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The movement startles James, who was expecting that Tony would be there a little longer yet. Did he say something wrong? Did he make the wrong choice? Did he push Tony away finally.

But then Tony reaches out a hand, holding it out for James to take. “Come on, James darling,” Tony urges. “Come home with me.”

James doesn’t really know where home is anymore but, as he grabs Tony’s hand and lets him pull him up and guide him out of the room, he thinks it might be with Tony.

Title: Spirit Bright and Beautiful Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044267 Square Filled: G1 - Chosen Family Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: Panic attacks Word Count: 2k

#alle writes #winteriron #starkbucksbingo2020 #long post #if you like please consider reblogging

179 notes · View notes

visionsofus · 3 years

Note

Hi! I am absolutely obsessed with your SV stories - you are an amazing writer. If it's possible to make a request... a ff about the rest of the team forcing Wanda and Vision to acknowledge their feelings <3

hello! thank you for this fic request! you could say I took it and ran way too fast with it. anyway! it's called 'call it what it is' and I've planned for this to be 4 parts long ☺️ here's the first part and I hope you enjoy!

Call it what it is - part 1

synopsis: The pining between Wanda and Vision is starting to become a problem. The rest of the Avengers are sick of the tension that has them walking on eggshells, though the pair seem oblivious to it. Tony and Natasha lead an effort to send Wanda and Vis on a getaway disguised as a ‘mission’, complete with lush beaches, smart dinners and a bed that is the perfect size for a couple. With Wanda and Vision resigned to 72 hours in each other’s presence maybe it’s finally time to call their relationship what it is.

read on AO3 ~

“I think everyone knows why I’ve gathered you here today.”

The team stared at Tony apprehensively. He paused; his hands folded as he sat before them at the head of the briefing table. Nat was by his side, rolling her eyes at such dramatics.

“It’s about Wanda and Vision,” Tony continued, looking around at everyone meaningfully. A few shoulders slumped in relief at this, everyone had been a little high strung lately. They had big weapons bust happening in a few weeks that had taken months of careful work.

“Is something wrong with them?” Steve asked, his eyes sharpening in concern. He glanced over his shoulder cautiously as though expecting the pair to enter the room at that exact moment. But they were cleverly tucked away and distracted by Friday in a different part of the compound.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Tony said, “but I’m sure you’ve all noticed the tension between them.”

The table broke out in noises of agreement, Sam in particular made a rather loud exclamation of exasperation. Yes, everyone had definitely noticed. It was hard to keep a secret when you lived and dined with your colleagues. Not that Wanda and Vision were very good at keeping their attraction a secret.

“You know I was in the kitchen with them the other day,” Rhodey said, and everyone turned eagerly to listen, “and I kid you not there was electricity literally in the air. Wanda handed Vision a plate to dry, barely brushed his hand and boom! All the kitchen lights went out.”

“I saw them training the other day,” Sam chimed in, “and I felt like I needed to go bleach my eyes afterwards. Every time they touched it was so –” he shivered as he spoke “—tender.”

“So, you get the problem then?” Tony said.

“Not really,” Steve replied, he’d smiled at Sam and Rhodey’s stories but became serious. “It seems like it’s their business Tony, I don’t know if any of us should be butting in.”

Tony nodded in understanding, stroking his chin in consideration. “I’m not one to get in the way of young love. But they’ve been getting careless in training, distracted. We can’t afford any big accidents next month just because Wanda’s got the hots for my boy.”

Nat snorted. “Your boy is half the problem, don’t forget.”

Tony continued, unphased. “The idea is we send them away on a simple mission, and they can,” he made a convoluted gesture with his hands, “and then they come back ready for work again.”

Rhodey looked at Tony in mild disgust. “What the heck is this?” He imitated the hand movements.

“I think that goes beyond words,” Tony said, eyeing Peter purposefully. The kid had sat quietly throughout the whole discussion, fiddling with the moleskin journal he carried round the compound with him. Maybe Tony needed to remind him he’s not actually an intern again.

“Uh, it’s okay Mr Stark,” Peter said looking around as though he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed to speak, “I’ve already had the talk.”

Tony sighed something between exasperation and fondness. “Great, kid.”

“Back to the plan,” Natasha prompts and with a few taps on the tablet before her the report appeared on the big screen spanning one wall of the room. “This is the target, Stevie Vern. She’s going to be in Santa Monica next week for a wedding, so we’ll put Wanda and Vision in the same hotel.”

“Isn’t it a bad idea to put them on a mission while you’re trying to get them to address their... tension?” Sam asked, his phrasing delicate.

“That’s the thing,” Tony continued, “we already know everything we can from Vern, but we’ll tell Wanda and Vision that their job is to figure out why she’s in California, see if she’s meeting another buyer, that sort of thing.”

“We already got the intel this morning that Vern is only there for a wedding, relatively speaking, she’s not that big a player,” Natasha finishes, folding her arms.

“Still seems risky,” Rhodey frowns.

“To be frank, right now they are useless to us and themselves,” Tony said honestly. Tony could see everyone thinking things over and even Steve seemed to resign himself to the necessity of the plot. “We do this, help them address their shit and then everyone is fighting fit for next month’s operation.”

Steve pulled Natasha aside as everyone left the room to return to their daily routines.

“I’m not sure about this,” he said quietly, leaning against the doorway and frowning in consideration.

“I wasn’t either, until Tony convinced me,” Natasha said, looking after their teammates as they trailed to the stairs, some going down to the training rooms while others continued to the kitchen for lunch. “He asked what I thought about their relationship, and I told him I think they’re good for each other, but not as they are now. Wanda barely sleeps some nights; I hear her pacing from my room. Vision’s been getting careless the last few weeks; he’s gets too caught up in keeping an eye on her that he forgets to do his job properly.”

Steve looks at the ground as he took her words in. Natasha continued solemnly. “It seems light-hearted now, but if anything were to happen...”

“They could hurt each other, get careless during a mission and hurt someone else,” Steve finished her thoughts aloud. It was a sobering consideration and something they both hated to think their friends capable of.

“I trust Wanda, but I don’t always trust her power.” The admission hung heavy in the air. “If anything were to happen because of a careless error on her part, she’d never forgive herself. This feels like a way to at least help with one part of that carelessness.”

“You’re right,” Steve sighed. “Damn, I hope this goes okay though.”

“Come on,” Nat said putting a hand on his arm as they started towards the staircase. “Nothing is going to go wrong. I’m sure we’ll all be laughing about this years from now.”

“I admire your optimism,” Steve mumbled, trudging up the stairs after Natasha

Remarkably, when dinner arrives Sam, Rhodey, Tony and Nat had roused themselves to join Wanda and Steve in the kitchen. She’d helped him cook the spaghetti bolognaise and guessed that it was the smell of the spices and stewing meat that brought everyone up to the dining table. Vision was sat at their already, having spent the half hour in the lead up to dinner with his nose buried in a book. At least Wanda thought he was reading; it was difficult to tell when he was so still, and the pages turned so slowly. For all Wanda knew, Vision was miles deep in his head scouring the internet. He had become frustratingly difficult to read.

With everyone sat around the table, Steve began serving at the same time that Tony set his tablet down in front of Wanda’s plate.

She looked between Tony and the screen in confusion, mostly just wanting to eat her steaming bowl of spaghetti. It had been a long day, after an even longer, sleepless night. But Tony gestured for her to look closer and so she did.

“It’s your next mission.” Tony said, twirling his fork around and scooping up spaghetti and sauce.

Wanda frowned.

“Santa Monica, target is Stevie Vern.”

Wanda hummed curiously, still a bit confused, but excited at the prospect of traveling to the other side of the country. She scrolled through the in-depth report Tony had given her. It was pages and pages long, filled with background information on the target all pertaining to the big weapons deal the team was planning to crash in just two weeks time. It was an important task then, she decided. Wanda hated to admit it but having Tony trust her with it made her feel a tiny bit proud. As she came to the end of the file she frowned; there was a pair of return plane tickets.

“Who’s going with me?” Wanda asked.

“Vision,” Natasha replied for Tony as he held up a hand, mouth filled with food. He nodded in confirmation.

Wanda’s stomach dropped even as her heart fluttered at the potential. A trip? With Vision?

“Me?” Vision asked, sounding just as surprised as Wanda felt.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Tony asked.

“Of course not.” Vision’s response was so quick that it sounded false, even to Wanda’s ears. Everyone else around the table had suddenly become conveniently interested in their food.

“Why us?” Wanda asked. Though she really wanted to know why it was only them assigned to the mission. She’d never been on a solo mission so far from the Compound before and she couldn’t help feeling a little bit suspicious. Why was Tony pairing her up with Vision? They certainly hadn’t had the best track record recently.

“Because we can’t afford to send anyone else,” Tony supplied casually. “And you have the perfect cover to figure out why Vern is in Santa Monica. The official words is she’s there for a wedding but we think there’s more to it than that. You and Vision can easily blend into the resort and pretend to be a couple on a honeymoon or something.”

“Excuse me?” Wanda choked out.

“We’ll do what?” Vision exclaimed at the same time.

“We’ve all been undercover for missions before. And no one will ever question you two being an item,” Natasha said, meaning to sound reassuring but missing the mark.

Wanda tried to ignore the warmth on her cheeks at that and the sly look Nat sent her. Biting back a snide comment, she stuck her fork into the spaghetti and began to eat. Vision asked more questions as they ate, what exactly they were expected to do once in California and how they were going to get their intel, but Wanda struggled to pay attention.

It wasn’t until later that evening as she packed a small bag that Wanda came to terms with the face that the trip was really happening. She was going to spend three days interstate with the very person she’d spent four months desperately trying not to fall for.

Everything was going to be fine.

Fine.

#wandavision #scarletvision #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #the vision #mcu fanfiction #WandaVision fanfiction #scarletvision fanfiction #fluff #and there was only one bed!#its all about the yearning!#visionsofusfics

16 notes · View notes

beatskylar · 4 years

Text

A broken memory, is a knife to the heart. part 2

Part one.

```````````````

Julia’s heart breaks at the sight of Carmen, the loving and free women she fell in love with trapped between four walls, broken and gone. Her bright grey eyes that used to display love and respect for the man in front of her, now showing agony and hatred.

Chief informed everyone in the room that due to Carmen destroying the memory restoration device when she did, that there is a 74 percent chance she will be facing a similar situation as Mr. Calloway: stuck in a limbo of sorts, remembering two different versions of her life. The line unclear to her which is a lie, but that she will choose the reality she has been living.

If Julia thought what VILE did to agent Devineaux in their brief encounter was terrible… she doesn’t want to even imagine what they put Carmen through, if and for how long they tortured her till she broke.

She should have done something: got in contact with team red sooner or set her plan in motions without chief’s approval. She is never going to forgive herself.

“Carmen, you need to rest. You should not be fighting.” Shadowsan’s voice breaks through her thoughts, calm and patient against the unrest she feels. She tries to relax and remember that she isn’t the only one watching the grainy security feed. Zack and Ivy stand by each other, neither dare utter a word as they watch their boss refuse to listen to Shadowsan. Julia can’t help but remember when Carmen told her how the twins are balls of energy, especially Zack.

“I’m telling you Jules; I have never seen them so focused before. Three days with no sleep and yet neither of them showed any signs of exhaustion. It was like just being in the same room as each other, was keeping them constantly energized.” The two quietly laughed at the story the thief finished recalling, the time she foolishly bet against the duo that she could stay up longer than them.

“I bet there is never a dull moment when they are in the room.” Was all Julia could reply, trying to hide the blush that arose due to Carmen using the nickname, a sure-fire way to make the agent blush in an instant. She hopes the thief doesn’t notice it, but she doubts anything gets passed Carmen.

Her suspicions are confirmed when the thief smiles, the smile only reserved for her. Sincere, happy, and attentive. The same smile she always wears around her, somehow becoming brighter whenever she get Julia to blush.

Agent Devineaux and agent Zari sat quietly at the table in the middle of the room, both watching the scene unfold. Agent Zari only wanting to be in the room to see the great Carmen Sandiego and understand how ACME has been unable to successfully capture her till last night. Agent Devineaux on the other hand is clearly worried over la femme rouge, gasping when Carmen breaks free of Shadowsan’s grasp only to hit the steel sink in the middle of her back. He’s quick to hide his worry by pretending he’s gasping because he moved and irritated the injuries Carmen inflicted on him.

Julia can see through his charades. His feelings and opinion over Carmen changed ever since the two worked together to save Julia in Egypt, even before that. Chase had finally seen Carmen for who she truly was, a thief who stole from other thieves.

Then VILE happened.

“Don’t touch me, traitor!” Carmen yells, not even batting an eye to hitting the sink. All her focus is on Shadowsan. She isn’t going to let her guard down.

“Can you tell me more about… Shadowsan? Did I say his name right?”

“Jules you should know by now, you are never wrong,” the lady in red pauses for a moment, deciding what she should tell. They both had a clear rule that they followed. Whenever they had time alone, neither would reveal anything too important involving their work. “Okay, I can tell you that he means the world to me. I am extremely lucky to have him with me, since the very beginning, even if I didn’t see all the help he was giving me.”

“You’re lucky to have each other.”

“I’m lucky to have team red and you.”

“Can we turn off the audio, please?” Player ask from behind the laptop’s screen, and when Julia looks over at him, she sees clear sings that he has been crying silently. Besides Shadowsan, he’s known Carmen the longest and was the last person to believe that his best friend was stealing for VILE, despite all the evidence they collected during her crime sprees.

He didn’t even believe Zack, Ivy and Shadowsan when they told him the terrifying truth. Carmen attempted to murder the redheaded male; he only accepted the reality when he saw it for his own eyes. The black and white video Julia found showing Carmen and Zack. The latter begging for help and with a wickedly sweet voice Carmen told him the fate that awaited him.

“That’s impossible! Carmen loves us, she would never do anything that puts us in danger,” Player denied, shaking his head as he ran his hands over his exhausted face, clearly tired of this conversation. “We are her family, and she would die protecting us.”

“Player please- “Ivy tried to calm the teen, but her brother interrupted her efforts.

“I looked her dead in the eyes, Player! She looked right at me while I asked if she was okay, if she recognized me!... All she said was that she recognized a problem, right before she kicked me,” Zack finished quietly, biting his second index finger knuckle as he shakily inhaled and exhaled. Tears threatening to fall down his face while he recalls the events he lived through, as his sister begins to rub his back, trying and failing to comfort him. “I don’t know what or how, but VILE turned her against us.”

“No, she has to be playing them. You know, destroying them from the inside out, right?” Looking over at everyone one at a time, his gaze remains on Shadowsan’s when he speaks again, “You know Carmen, she’s not capable of doing such a heinous crime. That’s why you failed her, because you knew deep down, inside your heart she could never take someone’s life. Carmen wouldn’t try to kill Zack, or anyone for that matter.”

“I know how hard this is to hear, but only because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s a lie.”

With that, the entire room falls into silence. Seconds quickly become minutes, and those minutes feel like lifetimes. Julia can see in Player’s eyes that he still doesn’t believe them, and she won’t blame him. For so long, Carmen always presented herself as untouchable, even when she was clearly injured, she fought on. She stood her ground against VILE and ACME, and despite both organizations best efforts Carmen was always one step ahead of them.

“Player, I need to show you something,” unlocking her tablet, Julia quickly located the carnivals security cameras. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to show you this, but it’s the only thing that will open your eyes. Despite Mr. Calloway turning off the electricity at the carnival, the cameras inside each pod continued recording, running on their backup batteries.”

The video immediately begins when the power was cut off, Zack on his knees while Carmen stalks towards him. The camera’s angle above the door still being able to record the pleased smile forming on Carmen’s face. “Carm, what’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me?”

“I recognize a problem.” In an instant she kicks him, a swift kick to his chest with enough power to push him back and through the closed doors. Zack yells as he barely manages to grab a hold of the side of the pod, the scream of the people below barely being loud enough to be captured by the camera.

“Carm, help me. I can’t hold on.”

“See all those tiny dots?” The camera is no longer to see Carmen fully, but her voice is clear as day. The venom from her words deadlier than poison. “Try hitting the one that looks like your partner on the way down.”

“No!”

With that Julia closes her tablet and before she can apologize to them, Player speaks up. “I’m s-s-sorry Zack. I-I-I should have believed y-you.” Tears roll down his face, as he struggled to finish his sentence.

With a sigh, Chief walks over to the console and flips the audio off, throwing the room in complete silence as no one knew what to say. What do you say when someone as great as Carmen Sandiego falls?

No noise is produces as everyone watches Carmen continue to strike at Shadowsan, both clearly speaking. Carmen’s right foot springs into a forward motion as she uses the momentum to rotate her body at 180 degrees, missing Shadowsan completely as her foot comes in contact with the wall. Without even reacting to the pain, she just put herself through. Immediately she spins with her left elbow out, but she is only able to hit the wall again. Nothing seems to register in her mind as she pushes off her right foot in an attempt to punch the ninja, but luckily, he’s able to sidestep her and knock her out in a second. A single attack to the back of her neck is enough to make her fall into his waiting arms.

Cradled by him, he says something before he lifts her in his arm completely. Holding her bride style against his chest as he walks them back to the bed, being careful to place her down gently. Kneeling by her side, Shadowsan remains by her side for a moment before rising and leaving.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room they are in, being right next to Carmen. His features remaining neutral as the twins hug him for a moment before remembering who he is. Both whisper their apologies, but he simply places a hand of each of their shoulders.

“Agent Zari has agent Strode given any indications of when she will be able to fix the device?” Chief asks, looking directly at agent Zari, who looks down at her phone for a brief moment before replying.

“A few days at most.”

“Tell agent Strode to report to agent Argent the moment she is done,” taking one last look at Carmen, Chief fixes her gaze towards Shadowsan. “How long do we have before VILE starts suspecting something is wrong?”

“I am unable to tell. Carmen’s father was able to go weeks, even months without contacting them as long as he always made his prolonged trips worth it. Ever since his death, they never allowed a faculty member to leave their headquarters unless it was absolutely necessary,” he pauses as he looks at Carmen’s unconscious form, and Julia might be seeing things, but she swears she saw a single tear roll down his face. “If Crackle is telling the truth, they might be showing Carmen leniency due to her high success rate.”

“So, maybe, we might have a few days at most. Does anyone have a plan to keep VILE unaware of all of this or help Carmen remember the truth?”

Julia hates the silence that continues to overtake the room. A room filled with four agents of a brilliant organization, a master of remaining unseen, a professional driver, a strong mechanic and skillful hacker can’t find a solution to save Carmen.

“What if we do our own version of a bait and switch?” Zack offers, his voice quiet and unsure of himself. When everyone looks at him, he seems surprised at his own idea.

“Like we did in Stockholm?” Player ask, and slowly the twins start forming the plan.

“Yeah. We throw VILE off Carmen’s scent! Ivy could dress up in Carmen’s coat and hat- “

“Popping up around the world and we pretending to rob something of historical importance!”

“We make sure the news knows its ‘Carmen’ committing these crimes and ask the authorities to hide the artifacts till we save the real Carmen!” Zack and Ivy bounce the idea off each other, both interrupting the other when needed to tweak the plan. She won’t lie, it seems like a doable plan considering Ivy has already been able to trick ACME and she doubt VILE is going to know better than they did. Plus, Chiefs already been able to get the Eye of Vishnu back on display and she has enough connections to continue.

“That would buy us some time. If VILE sees that Carmen is simply continuing to steal, they won’t ask any questions.”

“And I think I know how we can jog Carmen’s old memories back.”

```````````````````````````````````

#carmen x julia #julia x carmen #carmen sandiego #player #shadowsan #agent devineaux #zack and ivy #julia argent #julesthief #jules argent #my writing #vile faculty #acme

37 notes · View notes

murumokirby360 · 4 years

Photo

📷💻 My Yearend Techs and Misc. Items - 2020 📱🎮

Well, 2020 is about to end; so we’re not gonna dive in some bad moments and current plague that we all know, okay? 😉

Anyways I made a new summary for review techs and misc. items, but mostly techs stuff. 🙂 And this will be replaced for my “yearend artworks”. So, where’s your summary for artworks 2020 you asked? Well I decided to post my summary art to my 2nd tumblr account, so I won’t give you details because of… “Secrecy”.🤫

Nonetheless, here are my techs and items that I’ve done this year 2020. Some of which are my completed topic review, while others are continuing my topic(s) and some are my moments usage.

So without further ado, let’s get started:

JAN - My Cord Protector for my Remax 610D (Completed): My Remax 610D earphones are my best budget earphones I’ve ever used, so I need to install a wire protection back then. But it’s too bad that the left earbud worn out on Mar 16, 2020.

FEB - My Nyko Type Pad for PS4 (Ongoing): Last recorded on Mar 3, 2020, hopefully I will make my final remark someday. As for the main item itself, it’s still functional on my DualShock 4 V2 Controller.

MAR - My USB Hub 3.0 Mini Portable (Completed): It worked very well a months ago, until I accidentally broke and become useless. Which I’ll get to that later.

APR - My XP-Pen Deco 01 V2 (Ongoing): It’s my first budget medium sized drawing/graphics tablet, and I’m still using and enjoying it ever since. Although, there are so much things that I want to talk about. Only time will tell If I keep this going until the end.

MAY - My Silvertec Wireless Keyboard & Mouse Combo [SCKM-E111] (Completed): My mom purchased this awesome budget wireless keyboard and mouse combo for my birthday. And I’m still using it today.

JUN - My rear camera replacement for my Galaxy S4 [GT-I9505] (Completed): To this day I still missed my old Galaxy S4 so much, and this right here is one of my example moments. Replacing the old Galaxy S4 camera to a new one. Hopefully I will earn a new LED touch screen someday.

JUL - My Strontium Nitro A1 Micro SDXC Card 64GB (Completed): So far it functions really well through my Honor 8C. Hopefully I will get the larger 256GB on my future wish list. And yes, this is good budget micro SD card, for those who struggle to earn a expensive brand Micro SD Card.

AUG - Alternative internet access for limited (Aug 4, 2020): Last August of this year, we’re suffered a lost internet connection from our PLDT Home Fibr modem for the 2nd time. So we’ve provide some backup; only with a fraction of small cost.

SEPT - My TP-Link Archer T2U Nano AC600 USB Wifi Dongle (Completed) and My 8bitdo USB Wireless Adapter ‘PS Classic Edition’ (Completed): It’s a tough choice between my TP-Link Archer T2U Nano and my 8bitdo USB Wireless Adapter / Retro Receiver. There could be only one, but I ended up in a half photos, because they’re usable for me; one is connecting the internet with either 2.4G or 5G wifi hotspot(s), while the other is pairing with any wireless controller(s) per each retro receiver that avail and suitable their gaming taste. BTW: The original post for my 8bitdo USB wireless adapter retro receiver was on last August 28, 2020 on my secrecy blog, before I decided to post three parts on September.

OCT - Fixing ‘My USB Hub 3.0 Mini Portable’ using my soldering tools (Oct 24, 2020): Now here’s my post we’re I tried to fix my My USB Hub 3.0 Mini Portable. By applying soldering lead too much, it did not work very well; leaving my mini USB hub completely useless. Uh well, now I’m gonna find a better one.

NOV - My 8bitdo SN30 Pro+ Gamepad (Ongoing): So far, this is the most worthy 3rd party controller I’ve ever used than my previous 3rd party controllers; and it’s equally better to my DualShock 4 V2 Controller, due to symmetrical gamepad layout . There’s more topic about my 8bitdo gamepad came from, coming 2021.

1 Honorable mention:

🖥️My new home computer [Nov 6, 2020]🏠 [Part 1], [Part 2]: I love this moment, when my young bro got his own a better custom gaming PC and he gave his old one to me. And this is the moment when my old Lenovo laptop is finally retired and moved all of my files through this PC desktop. Finally! I could now experiencing Windows 10 OS! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah for me! I haven’t shown ya what my young bro’s new gaming PC looks like, right? Well, that’s gonna very soon in 2021... I promised.

DEC - My UGREEN USB Bluetooth Adapter (Ongoing) [Part 1], [Part 2]: This is just the beginning of reviewing my UGREEN USB Bluetooth Adapter, my connection test will be set next year 2021. I just can’t wait to connect my 8bitdo gamepad along with my other wireless bluetooth devices.

Well, that’s the end of my “My Yearend Techs and Misc. Items”. We’ll see you on 2021, and I promised that’ll done these topic reviews as soon as I can before I moved on to the next one. 😉

🥳 Happy new years eve to all, and stay safe as always. 😷

Tagged: @ftgxsee, @lordromulus90, @bryan360, @carmenramcat, @bytern, @gibsonfreak49

27 notes · View notes

tres-spades-hotel · 4 years

Note

I am not sure you are taking requests or not, but I got this idea and I really wished you could write something for it, 'about Eisuke falling in love with his secretary and make it a bit dramatic'. I know it may be a lot to ask but all your written works have been so beautiful, I just had to ask you. No problem if you couldn't do it :).

Hi there! I’m so glad you sent a request! Yes my requests are open, I only just realised that I haven’t put it anywhere on my blog that they are open... oops! Anyway, I’ve never written a secretary story before so this was definitely a challenge, thanks to @flatsuke and @leoamber66 for helping me find a solid plot to use. And thanks to @lin-ful for just being amazing! This story is 8000+ words so that’s why it took some time to get this to you. I hope this is what you wanted, if not I hope you at least appreciate the time and effort I took to writing this. Enjoy!

Keep Me By Your Side

They say patience is a fool’s game. Waiting for love will weigh your heart down heavily like an anchor in the ocean. But saying ‘I love you’ to Eisuke Ichinomiya will get you nowhere fast. What does he know about love? Kindness? Happiness?

He was young when he was made CEO of the Ichinomiya Group. He was even younger when he lost his mother to the scythe of death, when he lost his sister to a different, better, whole, and lovable family. When he lost his father to the mist of uncertainty. What could a man filled with emptiness from a traumatic childhood, know about love?

He’s arrogant but he’s suave. A businessman through and through. Ruthless and cunning. Intelligent and sarcastic. Sweet-toothed with hidden compassion. A passionate hater of peas. A wonderful smile when he is genuine. And believe me, I have only ever seen this smile once in my whole career.

He never gets drunk and he spends more time at his auctions than with women. No woman other than me has stayed longer than a night at his penthouse. No other woman knows that Eisuke prefers warm weather to cold. No other woman knows how he likes his coffee: sweet using three sugar cubes and milk. I still remember the first time I made him coffee.

‘It’s adequate.’

‘Really?!’

‘Do it again. It needs more milk.’

‘Okay!’

I remember when he told me about his life. I remember his touch when he wiped away dewy tears. Telling me that it was a long time ago. That he just wants the truth. Closure.

That’s why, as his secretary, I have to be there for him. Because Mr Ichinomiya, founder, and owner of the Tres Spades Hotels around the globe, the mastermind behind the black market auctions and my boss, has brought me down to my knees…

In love.

I am in love with Eisuke Ichinomiya.

I want to shout it out to the world.

Scream it at the top of my lungs as if his name is my breath.

But I can’t.

Because I am only his secretary.

‘Here’s your schedule for today. After lunch, you have a meeting with a potential investor for the new Tres Spades Restaurants. He wants to propose different menus and VIP arrangements plus staff requirements for the restaurant in Sydney, Australia.’ I hand Eisuke his tablet and a folder filled with paperwork.

‘Hm. And the auctions?’

‘All set. Baba is still looking for the specific item that you requested but we have plenty of other materials to sell tonight. Soryu has sent the invitations and Mamoru will get back to you about the increasing police activity here lately. And Ota… well he’s being Ota.’

‘Pfft, of course he is.’ Eisuke looks up at me.

‘And Luke?’

‘He nearly fondled my collarbones… again. But he is ready to proceed with the surgery this week.’

Eisuke narrows his eyes at me.

‘Tell Luke to come see me before then. And you know better than to visit Luke immediately after a surgery.’

I rub the back of my head nervously.

‘Well, you told me to see him right away so… I was just following orders.’ Eisuke sighs in response.

‘Oh! And Luke told me to tell you that he needs another x-ray of your collarbones.’

‘Why? I already gave him one a few months ago.’ The annoyance is written all over his features.

‘Because he left it in the other clinic in New York. Luke doesn’t have an x-ray here in Tokyo.’

He unconsciously pouts at his laptop screen.

‘Isn’t one enough?’

‘Apparently not…’ It takes everything in me not to stroke his head to comfort him.

‘What about your collarbones?’

‘When we got back, while you were still in London, Luke did a medical examination on me so he got an x-ray of mine.’

‘Remind me to ban him from using the x-ray machine.’ I reply with a giggle instead of words.

‘Vivian.’ He says with urgency.

I salute military style.

‘Yes sir!’

‘… You would make a clumsy soldier.’

‘Hey!’

‘If there’s nothing else, get me coffee and leave.’

I bow and attend to my duties. After giving Eisuke his coffee, I head down to the lobby to find Mr Kenzaki. The lobby is busy as always with staff running around attending to the whims of the guests. New guests checking in and old guests leaving satisfied by their stay. The Tres Spades never disappoints.

I spot Mr Kenzaki by the reception. I catch his eye and he walks towards me by the penthouse elevator.

‘Ah Vivian, is there something you need?’

‘Yes, the Boss will need the conference room after lunch. We will need it for a few hours.’

‘Of course, I will have it set up. Do you need the projector?’

I think for a moment.

‘I’m not entirely sure but set it up anyway. Better to have it on and not use it, than need it when it’s off.’

He smiles warmly at me.

‘I understand. I am glad to see that you have become a capable and worthy secretary to Mr Ichinomiya.’ I blush at his teasing words.

‘Thank you. But we both know that Boss would choose you over me any day of the week.’

‘Haha, I’m not quite sure he is that attached.’ I highly doubt that actually, but I don’t tell him that.

‘The guest is Mr Lance and he will be arriving in a few hours. Make sure the lobby is prepared. Boss and I will come down to greet him.’

‘Very well. Make sure to take breaks every now and again Vivian.’

‘Yes, I will.’ Mr Kenzaki has always been obedient and thoughtful. I admire his dedication to Eisuke and the others plus he was a huge help to me when I first started working at the Tres Spades. He’s almost like an uncle or a grandfather (I’m sorry Mr Kenzaki! I promise you’re still young!) to me and the others.

I return to the elevator, swipe my key card, press no. 51 and watch the metal doors close. Turning around, I watch the outside world grow smaller and smaller as the elevator pulls up. There was a time when I was bewildered by the sheer size of this hotel. Over 50 floors of suites and boutiques and shops and the auctions all bundled into one.

Funnily enough, I worked with Eisuke’s adopted father, Akira Ichinomiya before I came to work for Eisuke. Akira took me in when I was first starting out in business and he taught me the ropes. He introduced me to Eisuke a little after Akira retired and, although he retired, he still worked within the Ichinomiya Group to make things a little easier for Eisuke. We met a few times over the years before Akira decided to send me to Japan to work for Eisuke as his secretary instead. I was more than miffed to hear of his decision without consulting me, especially since we had gotten so close with each other. I lost my grandfather when I was young so Akira ended up filling in that void.

Akira assured me that Eisuke would teach me more about how the Ichinomiya Group runs and I couldn’t say more. With my salary increased and bags packed, I got into the private jet and waited to see my new boss.

Looking back, I think I put up a bit too much of a fuss because Eisuke became a wonderful teacher, and a great friend. He listened to me and my problems even though he never needed to.

‘I have to make sure that my employees are at their best. Physically and mentally. Hearing your small problems is nothing to the value you are as my secretary.’

His words back then bring a whole new meaning to me now. I hope he means them in the way that I think they mean. That he cares about me.

A vibration courses through me as my pager goes off. I pluck it out of my belt and answer it.

‘Hello?’

‘Vivian! Where are you? Come to the penthouse! I have something to show you!’ Baba’s excited voice reminds me of a child but I wait to see what he has in store.

‘Ta da!’ Baba’s jazz hands do nothing to appease the sight.

A large statue of Venus towers over us all as we gape at it.

‘How did you get it in here?’ I ask, bewildered.

‘That’s a secret.’

‘Did you break it in half?’ Ota asks next.

‘No! This is priceless!’

‘Then how did you bring it into the lounge?’ Soryu says.

‘That is also a secret!’

‘He used the helicopter and the window.’ Mamoru mumbles from the couch.

‘Oooooohhhhhh’ Ota and I say at the same time. Baba pouts in response.

‘Mamo! Don’t go giving away my secrets!’

‘That’s not my job. That’s Ayase‘s job.’

‘This isn’t what I asked for Baba.’ Eisuke glares at him after inspecting the statue.

‘Ah yes, well. The item belongs to a Mr Jason Taylor Lance. I believe his father is coming to the hotel today.’

‘He is.’ I say.

‘Fine, I’ll get it from him instead.’

‘What is this thing you’re looking for anyway Eisuke?’ Ota asks.

‘It’s a collection of gems found at a temple in Egypt. Rumours of the gems suggest that a whole manner of good things will happen to those who possess them. I figured they would go for a very high price at the auctions.’ Eisuke smirks.

‘They were unearthed a few years ago and have found their way to Japan.’ Eisuke explains. Baba sighs.

‘Well I need more time to find the exact location.’

‘Fine.’

‘Ota can you appraise the statue for me?’

‘Okay.’ He goes back to his room while I prepare coffee and tea. When he comes back, he puts on white rubber gloves and uses a magnifying glass around the statue. I check my emails, replying to some and deleting others when Ota quips:

‘It’s fake.’

‘WHAT! Are you sure!?’

‘Yeah. It was created with cheap materials. An amateur’s work.’ He says it in such a matter-of-fact tone that I don’t comprehend it for a moment.

‘You would never know just looking at it.’

‘Yeah but if you sell it then the person buying it would most likely be an art collector and they appraise everything.’ He sits down and takes out his phone.

‘Unlucky Baba. Just like your sex life.’

‘Hey!’

‘Baba take that thing out.’ Eisuke orders.

‘Alright, alright. Sor help me out.’

‘Why me?’ Soryu and Baba heave the statue out of the penthouse.

Eisuke and I have lunch and then we venture out to the lobby. Just as we exit the elevator, Mr Lance enters the hotel. He is a big man wearing a white suit and a silver chain around his neck. His bald head shines in the glow of the lights and I can hear his shoes squeak against the marbled floor. He spots us and smiles.

‘Mr Lance, I am glad you could make it.’ Eisuke plasters on his signature business smile, holds his hand out for a shake and I bow from beside him.

‘Eisuke, please call me Connor. If we are going to be business partners, we should at least start with first names.’ He wraps both Eisuke and I in a bear hug and I nearly gag from the heavy cologne smell. Mr Lance is overly-friendly and I can already tell that this meeting is going to be a long one.

When he lets us go, Eisuke straightens his suit.

‘Please follow me to the conference room.’ Eisuke walks away while I turn to Mr Lance.

‘Shall I carry your briefcase for you, sir?’ I ask politely.

‘Of course, please.’ He looks at me for a moment. During my time as Eisuke’s secretary, I have met many individuals who have looked at me in inappropriate ways but Eisuke is always there to make it clear my place by his side. Still, I always stand my ground. Even now, as Mr Lance studies my face when he suddenly gestures to the case on the floor and follows Eisuke.

I’m not sure what that look was on his face but something tells me that this meeting will twist horribly.

‘Of course the staff will be perfect in their presentation but I believe that…’

Mr Lance, despite his ‘we-should-use-first-names’ greeting, is actually quite the businessman. He and Eisuke have been discussing the chain of Tres Spade restaurants and how to profit the most without hindering their guest’s experience.

‘The Tres Spades always delivers in high quality standards. Our guests and what they desire are our top priority.’

‘I have no doubt. Reviews of your hotels are 100% which I completely agree with. But if we could…’

Although, they are at a stale-mate right now. Neither is willing to backdown which is making me nervous. Mr Lance is more insistent on getting his way and so is Eisuke.

‘Sir?’ I finally pipe up from my corner in the room.

‘Hm?’ Eisuke looks at me.

‘May I suggest something?’

‘I hope you do not mind.’ Eisuke says to the man opposite him.

‘Please, a second opinion is always valuable.’ Mr Lance says, nodding in my direction.

‘Well, I suggest that the guests are given a form to personally write down any changes they want or need to the menus. This way, waiters will be more efficient obtaining orders and will limit any commotion that may arise.’

‘Paper forms will get lost or damaged very quickly in a kitchen.’ Eisuke says.

‘Hm, electronic tablets? With the entire menu and a writing stylus or Bluetooth keyboard to use.’

‘The keyboard would be too bulky on a table for guests.’

‘Why not use both? Paper and technology alike. Reservations will need specifications on which apparition the guests would like to use. Spontaneous guests first arriving will be asked immediately before seating if they require the keyboard or stylus.’ Mr Lance suggests.

‘That would be agreeable for me.’ Eisuke says.

‘I also.’ Mr Lance responds.

I breath a quiet sigh of relief. Mr Lance looks at me again before turning to Eisuke.

‘Before I sign this contract, I would like to add something to this.’

‘Such as?’

‘You see, I have a son, who I assume is the same age as your secretary?’

I glance at Eisuke briefly before saying hesitantly, ‘I am 28 years old, sir.’

‘Ah perfect! I have a son who could use a woman like you by his side.’ At those words, both Eisuke and I look at each other. He glares at Mr Lance who does not seem to notice.

‘You are an impeccable woman. In just a few hours, I have seen your beauty, your perfect manners and now your incredible intelligence as a woman working in the business sector of society. I believe you would be a wonderful wife to my son and an even better daughter-in-law to my wife and I.’

‘What are you suggesting, Mr Lance?’ Eisuke could be a snake he spat out those words so viciously.

Mr Lance does not break eye contact with Eisuke. Actually, it seems as if he is not intimidated at all by Eisuke, which, despite his words, is impressive.

‘I will sign this contract. Only if your secretary agrees to marry my son.’

‘That is outrageous, as if I would agree to such a thing.’

‘I am not asking you, Mr Ichinomiya. I am asking her.’

There is so much tension in the air that I can see it. Literally. So if I don’t agree, Mr Lance will walk out of the project. But if I do… While there are other investors, Mr Lance has a large influence on the economy, just as much as Eisuke does. He’s too important to deny.

Maybe I should convince him to sign without the marriage?

‘If I may, Mr Lance, I am hardly worthy of being part of your family. I have no wealth which you would consider rich, neither do I have many connections or the reputation to be married into your family. The public and the media would, quite frankly, have a field day about this marriage which could result in backlash on your family and mine. Please, reconsider this.’ I think half way through, my reasoning became a plea.

‘My secretary has never met your son and neither have I. She has worked for me and my company for years. Her well-being is my responsibility.’

Mr Lance thinks over our arguments calmly, as if he has done this a hundred times to other employers and their employees.

‘Very well. Why don’t I have my son stay at the hotel for a week? They can get to know each other and when she agrees to the marriage, then I will sign the contract. Until then,’ he pushes the folder away, ‘I will not sign. This is final.’

He gets up, leaving his business card, and walks out whistling to himself.

* (EISUKE’S POV)

‘That bastard really believes that he can have whatever he wants just because I need him to invest in the project.’

‘Did he really ask you for Vivian’s hand in marriage?’

‘To his son?’

‘…..’ I don’t answer, I only glare at Baba and Ota who hide behind Vivian and Soryu.

Mr Lance has attempted something that I have never seen in my whole career. A marriage proposal during a business deal? Mixing his personal life with his work is extremely amateur for a man who has been in business for over 30 years.

‘That man’s head must have a few screws loose.’ Mamoru says in an exasperated tone.

‘So what did you say Vivian?’ Ota asks.

‘Well, I tried to tell him that I wouldn’t be a good match for his family but he wouldn’t listen to us. His son is going to be staying in the hotel and I have to attend to him.’ She says, clutching her tablet to her chest.

‘Eisuke, what is he planning?’ Soryu is right to be suspicious. Even I believe that there is something amiss here.

‘Soryu, Mamoru, find out everything you can about this man and the Lancer’s Group.’

‘Lancer’s Group?’

‘Mr Lance’s last name turned into-‘

‘A joke.’ Mamoru finishes her sentence. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Criminal records, illegal activity, anything. Baba see if you can find something in their estates. I want to know what they have in their possession.’

‘Uh, okay Boss…’

‘Ota I want to know what the public think about the Lance family.’

‘Sure.’

I get up from the couch and head to the stairs leading to my penthouse suite.

‘Eisuke, what about the auctions tonight?’

‘The IVC and the auctions will continue as usual. Vivian, coffee.’ I say before turning around and ascending the stairs. I hear Vivian’s high heels against the floor as she rushes to me.

As soon as I get inside, I sit at my office desk and begin researching. If the Lancer Group is as influential as the Ichinomiya Group, they will have more than a few skeletons in their closets. The smell of coffee fills the room as she makes my daily beverage. For a second, I suddenly imagine Vivian making coffee for someone else. Mr Jason Taylor Lance. With his hands on her hips and his lips at her neck, attempting to distract her from leaving. It disgusts me that another man besides me would have Vivian by his side.

I feel myself get up from my chair and wander to Vivian quickly. She pours milk and three sugar cubes into the mug. Her waist feels small in my hands. The hair on her head smells like argan oil. Vivian is actually a small woman, her head is just below my shoulders with high heels on. Her long dark hair is straight with a braided crown around the back of her head. She wears a black suit and a purple blouse plus I notice the thin platinum band around her right ring finger that I gave her when we first met.

I hear her gasp at my touch and she turns around in my arms. Her eyes are wide open with her eyebrows raised.

‘Eisuke?’

Eisuke. She usually says my name when we’re alone. When she’s in work mode, she calls me Boss, like Baba unfortunately, but I still remember how casually she said it the first time.

‘Eisuke, you’ve been working for hours. Take a break for a few minutes, please? What will I do if you faint from exhaustion?’

My hands cup her chubby face. Her trembling fingers hold onto my hands. The only man I see reflecting in her eyes, is me.

I can’t imagine being without Vivian.

Wait. What am I thinking? Or rather what am I doing?!

I let go of her face and turn to leave the room. Her short arms suddenly wrap around my waist as she desperately holds on.

‘Eisuke, I don’t want to leave you.’ Her whisper is enough for me.

But why do I care so much for her? Have I become attached to this woman? This woman who Akira introduced to me? The same shy, bubbly personality who has stuck by my side for more years than I can count? No one has survived as my secretary or assistant ever but Vivian has held on.

What am I feeling inside? This warmth in my chest?

The next day, we prepare for Mr Lance’s son’s appearance at the hotel. Jason Taylor is a famous model and fashion designer who is also known for his… drunk antics.

‘Soryu, make sure your men keep an eye on Taylor and Vivian while they are together. If he dares to make a move on her, I want them to intercept immediately.’

Soryu, sitting in the chair opposite my desk, rubs his head and sighs with exasperation.

‘Eisuke, my men are mobsters, not bodyguards.’

‘Soryu.’

‘I know, I know. I care about her too you know, we all do. She’s the only woman willing to stick by you and your peculiarities.’

‘….’

‘My men will watch out for her and will keep me and you updated on their activities.’

‘Good. Have you found anything incriminating?’

‘There is something. Apparently, the Lance’s have a secret operation in Brazil. It might be money laundering.’

‘Hm, have your men take it. If it is money laundering, the evidence will move the scales in my favour.’ We share a knowing look when Baba’s loud voice booms outside the office door.

‘Boss! He’s here! Come on out!’ I sigh and stand up.

‘Looks like His Highness is in your territory.’

‘We’ll see how long he can stay on his pedestal.’

Vivian meets us in the penthouse lounge. I gave her the morning off to mentally prepare herself for the work that she will have to do. She wears a different outfit that she wears for work which makes me feel better inside.

‘Hey Vivian, why are you wearing that?’ Ota asks. She looks down at her suit then to me.

‘Because I’m still working.’

‘But he’s going to be your fiancé, shouldn’t you greet him looking a little sexier or something appealing?’

‘If you’re so desperate for a fiancée, why don’t you go greet him?’ I spit out at Ota who frowns at me.

‘Baba, Eisuke’s being mean!’

‘You kind of deserved it Ota.’ Baba says.

‘Damn I’m tired. Can we get going now?’ Mamoru yawns.

‘Slacker.’ I hear Soryu mutter under his breath.

‘What you say!?’

‘That’s enough. Vivian.’ I turn to leave and hear Vivian follow. The others grumble along to see who has made an enemy out of me.

Just as the elevator doors open, we hear loud noises and women screaming. In the centre of all attention is JT Lance, a known critic, womaniser, drunkard and an exceptional model and designer. He was already at the top when he was born, but we’ll see how far down to the bottom he falls when I’m done with him.

He seems to be signing autographs on paper and magazines and on women’s bodies as well. Arms, hands, necks, chest, he’ll put his name anywhere. A typical celebrity. He wears a golden chain similar to his father and an open shirt revealing his body.

The lobby quietens down as I step out.

‘Oh, it’s the King!’

‘The King?’

‘Eisuke Ichinomiya?!’

The staff try to handle the guests as much as they can while I stride over to the man receiving his room key.

‘Mr Jason Taylor? It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ I smile at him and shake his hand.

‘Eisuke Ichinomiya, the pleasure is all mine! My dad says good things about you.’

‘Does he now?’ I highly doubt that considering our last encounter.

‘It’s a bit too crowded here to talk. Please follow me to the VIP lounge.’

‘Lead the way.’

In the lounge, JT sits making small talk with Ota and Baba while a female staff member serves drinks. I see her blush as JT winks at her from his spot on the couch.

‘Do you have any tips on how to attract women?’

‘Baba has trouble keeping a woman’s attention for more than a second.’ Ota quips.

‘Haha, the first thing a woman sees in a man is his fashion sense. And yours… is a little less than average.’

‘What?!’

‘You look a tomato with a head, hands and feet. You need to look more manly and dignified.’ He waves his arms around, looking a buffoon. Baba frowns, lost in thoughts.

‘I assume you wear that red… thing daily. Red is a passionate colour and bold to be worn in broad day light. But too much passion turns women off quicker than a light switch. A man should wear blues or purples, like Ota and Eisuke or that scary looking man over there.’ He points to Soryu whose face doesn’t change or move in the slightest.

‘… Um, even that man over there in the grey suit is more manly than you.’ He indicates at Mamoru who smokes at the window.

‘Hmmm, so I need to change my suit? But I love this suit…’ Baba mumbles to himself helplessly as Ota falls over laughing.

I feel Vivian fidget beside me as she gleans the man attempting to take her away from me. JT changes his focus to Vivian.

‘So, this woman is the secretary my dad told me about? What is your name? You are certainly a beautiful gem among the dirt. Have you tried modelling? I’m sure my designs would look stunning on you.’ His insult generates a glare but, like his father, he does not notice.

‘My name is Vivian Grier and I am certain that I am just an average looking woman, sir.’

‘Oh please, you would look divine! And call me JT, it would be plain weird if my future wife calls me so formally.’ I feel my eye twitch at his casual words.

‘She is not your wife yet.’

‘That will be her decision, will it not?’

The tension increases with each passing moment as we size each other up. But Vivian cuts it like a sword slashing in the air.

‘Um, JT why don’t I show you around the hotel? Then you can relax in your suite. I still have work to do unfortunately but we can have dinner tonight in the restaurant if you would like.’ Her suggestion does nothing to quell the fiery rage that is slowly growing inside me.

His smile sickens me to my core.

‘I would be delighted to have that. Ota why don’t you come as well, we can discuss some new designs I’ve created.’

‘Sure. Don’t worry, the old man beside me won’t be coming along.’

‘Hey!’ Baba shouts out as usual. The four of them leave but not before Vivian pats my shoulder and says,

‘I’ll back in the penthouse in a bit, try not to exhaust yourself too much before I arrive.' She smirks and winks at me before rushing to the others.

‘You’re going to do what!?’ The words I didn’t want to hear leave Vivian’s mouth so simply that I shout at her in front of the others in the lounge. She flinches but continues.

‘JT is going to check out of the hotel tomorrow, and I will go with him. I’m going to agree to the marriage and stay with his family at their mansion.’

I can only glare at her, trying to dispel the unshakable resolve in her eyes. But she doesn’t look away nor does she back down.

‘Why?’

‘You and I both know that there is something not quite right here. They’re hiding a corpse underneath all that fame and money and I’m going to find out what.’

‘…..’

‘I know you have been investigating. I’m sure you’ll find the evidence we need but do it before the wedding. I…. One day, I want it to be you and me at the alter Eisuke. Truly.’

My eyes widen. Is she confessing to me? Now?

‘Soryu? Can I take Ryosuke and Samejima with me? For protection and friends to accompany me?’

‘Of course, they will protect with their lives Vivian.’ He takes his phone out and leaves to prepare his puppy and shark.

Vivian turns to me.

‘Eisuke, if I find anything then I will send it to you. And I promise I’ll come back. Come back to you.’

Vivian stands in front of me as the strong woman I know she is. She’s doing what needs to be done.

‘Money laundering.’

‘Huh?’

‘We have evidence that the Lance family is money laundering. Find me something related to it or something else I can use.’ I say. We look at each other for a moment then she smiles at me.

‘Okay.’

‘Good luck Vivian. We’ll be here if you need us.’ Baba pats her shoulder.

‘Don’t get yourself killed.’ Ota says from the couch.

‘Kid, don’t go doing anything stupid now.’ Mamoru puffs on his cigarette.

‘Thank you guys. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.’ She smiles and bows to us before turning around.

‘And Eisuke?’

‘What?’

‘On JT’s phone, I saw a message. It said… the body is ready to be disposed.’

‘A body?’

‘Mamoru get on this.’

‘Murder, huh?’

‘Well, he gives lousy advice on fashion anyway.’ Baba says.

‘He was right about your fashion sense though.’ Ota retorts.

‘Kid, send me that message as soon as you can.’

‘I’ll try.’ Vivian’s heels stride out of the lounge. Strong and confident, she leaves with my heart.

The engagement is called on TV. Mr Lance announces the engagement and we watch as Vivian and JT exchange rings.

‘Such a tacky ring.’ I mumble to myself.

‘Hey, what’s that silver ring on her other finger?’ Ota points to the monitor.

‘Boss, didn’t you give that to her a few years ago?’

‘Obviously. I have more class than he does in style.’ I smirk. So even on TV, she continues to belong to me.

‘Eisuke, Inui and Samejima have dropped Vivian off at the hotel. She’ll be here in a few minutes.’

‘Good.’ My fingers hover over the pager’s call button. It has been confirmed that the wedding will take place tomorrow. JT has booked the ballroom for a party and invited me to attend.

‘So they recorded this and sent it to the media everywhere huh?’ Ota asks.

‘Yes. It’s hard to believe that it’s been 2 weeks since Vivian left us.’

‘She hasn’t left us. As if Eisuke would let the kid go, not with her skills.’ Mamoru, who for once is not asleep, teases me.

‘You’re not snoozing, has the station finally fired you?’ Soryu retorts.

‘Stop it. You all are too noisy.’ I order before Mamoru can fight back.

‘How are the preparations for JT’s party tonight?’

‘Going as well as I can hope. I’ve called the media here to capture JT’s antics on screen.’

‘Seriously? Does he know?’

‘Even if he does he’s not shy to the camera. Everyone knows his drunk habits. I’ve ordered for security to be ready to take action against him if he tries something.’

‘Ota, Mamoru and I will be there as well so you can count on us Boss!’ Baba says with as much enthusiasm as a balloon.

‘Why do I have to be there?!’

‘Because the alcohol is for free. I won’t have to buy you any tonight.’

‘Fine. I guess I’ll go.’ Mamoru grumbles to himself by the window.

‘Hook, line, and sinker. Point 1 to Baba.’ He tips his ridiculous hat and winks at Mamoru who pretends to gag on his cigarette.

‘Sir?’ Kenzaki enters the lounge with the woman I’ve been expecting to see since she left.

‘Miss Vivian has returned.’ His smile tells me that he has been missing Vivian as much as the rest of us.

‘Hey everyo-‘

‘VIVIAN!’

‘THANK GOD!’

‘GET US COFFEE PLEASE!’

Vivian jumps behind Kenzaki as the three men throw themselves at her. It is true that we’ve been miserable without her coffee. We have been living off of room service and Soryu’s tea.

‘I can’t believe you guys really missed me that much. I was gone for 2 weeks!’ She hands out the mugs and I sniff the coffee. It smells wonderful and for once, everyone is quiet in the lounge.

‘Would you like some Mr Kenzaki?’ Vivian asks.

‘No thank you, you can make me some another time. I have some work to do so I will leave you to it.’ He strokes her head like a father and leaves.

‘Vivian, upstairs.’ Still holding my mug and picking up Vivian’s bag, I climb the stairs with her in tow.

We sit beside each other when she looks up and smiles before taking out her tablet.

‘Even though I’ve been away, I’m still your secretary Eisuke. I’ve responded to all your emails and contacted everyone involved with the project. Mr Lance is going to sign the contract tomorrow after the wedding and-‘

‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

‘Hm, what?’

‘Did he do anything to you?’

‘No, not really. Despite the engagement, he hasn’t touched me. I thought he was seeing other women since he keeps going in and out of the mansion but I think it’s something else.’

‘Yes, the coordinates Soryu’s puppy sent is an office. It’s filled with counterfeit money.’ Vivian, Inui and Samejima were able to gain the site of Mr Lance’s operations from JT’s car’s automatic navigation system. The Ice Dragons stormed the place with Soryu and found over $200 million in cash.

‘What do you think it’s for?’

‘It could for a number of things Vivian. People have a way of finding things to buy when they millions to spare. Be it an object or a person.’

‘Did Mamoru find out about… the body?’

‘We’re still looking into it, but I have a hunch.’

‘Which is?’

‘You’ll see.’

‘No fair!’ Vivian pouts at me and I pinch her cheeks.

‘Oww!’ She says it in a more playful tone, letting me know that she’s happy.

‘You’ve gotten thinner since you left.’

‘I guess I was lonely without you Eisuke.’ She takes my hands and wraps my arms around her.

‘I missed you, so much.’ She hugs me tight, listening to my rapid heartbeat.

‘How have you been Eisuke?’

‘Fine. It’s not as if I need you by my side all the time.’ Who am I kidding? Her giggles tell me that she doesn’t believe my lies either.

‘But you will always miss my coffee right?’ Her teasing words make me chuckle.

‘Your coffee has done wonders for me. Even if you didn’t stay as my secretary, I would have made you the penthouse maid.’

‘Haha, I’m sure you would have.’ She raises her head and looks up at me through her long lashes. When did she become so beautiful?

‘Eisuke…’ When did her voice become so enticing when she says my name? And what would she sound like at night, beneath me with her head thrown back in pure bliss?

But before my lips can touch her skin…

‘Boss! Are you ready?’

‘Damn it, that thief always has awful timing.’ I grumble as we untangle our limbs from each other.

‘Don’t worry Eisuke. I’ll still be here when you get back.’ She takes my face into her hands and leaves a kiss on my forehead.

‘You know I will always be here.’ We lean our heads against each other, savouring the feelings that we hold dear. I’ve never felt love for a woman before. It’s not a bad feeling though.

* (VIVIAN’S POV)

I change into my casual clothing and go downstairs to find not only Soryu with Ryosuke and Samejima, but also Luke in the lounge. The TV has been set up for us to watch the party on mute.

‘Hey you guys.’ I sit on the couch next to Luke and see Eisuke, Ota, Baba, and Mamoru at the party, mostly drinking at the bar.

‘Hey princess.’ Ryosuke waves. Samejima and Soryu both give me a nod.

‘Hello Sexy Bones.’ I smile at Luke.

‘Why aren’t you down there Soryu?’ I ask.

‘Too many women.’

‘Oh I see.’ Soryu hates women with a passion. Eisuke was surprised when Soryu said he didn’t mind me being here. Apparently, I’m not the type of women he hates.

‘Where’s JT?’ I ask, trying to spot him on the monitors.

‘Over there, speaking to one of the politicians.’ Luke points to the far corner. For a while we wait and see what happens. Eisuke speaks to various celebrities, all with that sly smile on his face, while Mamoru drinks at the bar. Baba and Ota flirt with the other women at the party.

It all seems pretty calm when I see JT suddenly throw a glass of champagne at a wall.

‘Uh oh.’

‘What the!?’

‘He’s drunk.’ Luke observes.

JT seems to shouting at a staff member. One whom I know as my friend, Sakiko.

‘He’s going to hit her!’ I shout. JT’s large fist is balled up in the air, ready to hit its target when Eisuke grabs his arm and pins it back. He forces JT to the ground and Mamoru cuffs his wrists.

‘Oh thank god!’ I sigh with relief as Sakiko is attended to by the other staff members. Eisuke seems to be addressing the guests as Mamoru and security push JT off the premises.

‘The media will love this.’ I say.

‘Eisuke knew this would happen, that’s why he called them in the first place.’ Soryu says, turning his attention to clean his gun.

‘Mr Ichinomiya looked so cool! Just like you sir!’ Ryosuke says, looking at Soryu with admiration.

‘Indeed, Eisuke’s collarbones looked splendid.’ Luke smiles and Ryosuke gives me a look of bewilderment. I laugh despite the situation we just witnessed.

‘Eisuke did look really cool out there.’

‘Maybe you should make him the new Ice Dragon’s leader.’ Luke says.

‘No.’ Both Luke and I burst out laughing with Samejima trying to hide his smile and Ryosuke looking even more bewildered.

When Eisuke came back to the penthouse, I said good night to the others and followed him upstairs to his bedroom. I hugged him tightly as soon as we entered him room.

‘I saw on the monitors. Thank you for saving Sakiko.’ I nuzzle my face into his chest.

‘Hm.’ I feel the slight vibration course through his body.

‘Eisuke?’

‘What?’

‘Seeing JT be so… violent… made me think. Do you think sacrificing my freedom, despite knowing his flaws, despite knowing that there is always the possibility that he could become violent with me, that he could hurt me and cause me pain and trauma that I might never recover from, if marriage is about accepting the faults of the partner you love, should I accept his flaws no matter how abusive he could be?’

‘No. Because even the slightest possibility could destroy more than just your body, but your heart too. People like JT are not worth more than the dirt under our shoes.’

Suddenly, Eisuke dips down and hooks his arm under my knees.

‘Ah! Eisuke!’ Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, Eisuke throws me onto the bed and leans over me.

‘You’re still here though.’

‘I am.’

‘Are you going to leave?’ I look into his chocolate brown eyes. I can see my reflection in them so clearly. I feel my love for him bubbling up inside me.

‘Only if you force me to.’

‘Pfft, as if that would ever happen.’ His kiss is sweeter than any candy. It melts me at my core completely. That night, our hearts finally connect with one another. The moment that I have always wanted has been fulfilled. And before I pass out, I hear,

‘I promise, tomorrow, you will walk out as my woman. I will save you.’

Standing at the church doors, I breath in and out. Clutching a bouquet of hydrangeas, I think about last night. Eisuke promised that he would save me.

‘Go to the wedding tomorrow. I will be there and stop this madness.’

Akira comes up and turns me to face him.

‘Do not worry Vivian. Eisuke will give you a wedding surprise you won’t soon forget.’ His smile warms my heart. I asked him to come from London to walk me down the aisle. With my parents gone since I was a child, Akira is the closest thing I have to a father.

‘I know he will. I just hope he hurries up.’ I say. Akira holds out his elbow and my left hand gently clutches his suit. We hear the music begin and the large doors creak open.

With thousands of eyes on me, I look straight ahead just as Eisuke would. Ignore all the stares and look straight forward always no matter what. Cameras and flashes and whispers fill the room as I see JT smirk my way. The wedding dress wasn’t my choice. It was designed by JT and Ota together but it still isn’t the dress I imagined I would wear to my wedding. It’s a backless, pearl white lace dress with a ring of diamonds at my waist. My hair is in a loose bun and a thin hair band with small flowers rests atop my head. The dress trails at the back slightly and I feel it drag the fake flowers those sitting on the benches throw at us. In the corner of my eye, I see the bidders who wave at me. I smile inwardly, knowing that I’m in safe hands.

We finally make it to the priest and JT presses a light kiss to my hand. I gag inside as Akira leaves me to sit down.

The priest begins to speak the formalities and my mind drifts away. Eisuke said he would save me. So where is he? I’ve hoped for years that Eisuke would love me the way that I love him and now that I finally have it, we’ve become entangled in this mess.

‘If there is anyone who would object to this couple’s union, speak now or forever hold your peace.’

The doors behind us creak open once more. Everyone turns to see the silhouette of the man I love the most in this world.

‘I object.’

Eisuke walks forward as gasps and whispers fill the room. All cameras pointed at the King of Spades.

‘JT Lance has no business marrying her.’ He nods to the priest who takes out a remote and presses a button. A projector rises near the back of the church and a picture of a woman appears.

‘Oh that’s Miss Freya Opaline.’ Opaline was a great gem collector who mysteriously died when she tripped and fell into glass which pierced her heart.

‘Miss Opaline was not killed by what we believed was an accident.’ Eisuke’s strong voice echoes in the church.

‘JT and Opaline were both after the same set of gems that were unearthed in Egypt. Opaline got to them first so JT attempted to bribe her for them. When that didn’t work, he killed her and took the gems for himself.’ Moans and groans of the shocked public begin to rise.

‘The next few slides have secret messages between Mr Jason Taylor Lance and his associates who covered up the murder. Let’s also not forget about Mr Lance, who has been making counterfeit money for nearly a decade.’

‘Damn it.’ I hear JT whisper in defeat.

‘If there is anybody else who would like to object…’ As if on cue, Baba and Ota shout out.

‘I object!’ Everyone follows suit and I back away. Suddenly, Mamoru and the police walk in, arresting JT and Mr Lance. Before JT is taken away, I waltz up to him where he is handcuffed. I smile and throw the bouquet at his feet. The sound a slap resonates inside the building, rendering everyone silent. JT stares dumbfounded. Suddenly, I hear cheers for my performance and the police take JT away.

Eisuke comes up to me and I kiss him. I hear many screams and see white flashes behind my closed eyelids but I don’t care. He did it all and I helped him.

‘I love you Eisuke.’

‘I love you Vivian.’ He smiles genuinely and I fall in love again. We lean our foreheads together, knowing our love for each other is true.

‘It was nice of Mrs Lance to sign the contract on behalf of her ex-husband.’ I say.

‘Yes. Now that Miss Felicia is taking over, their business might finally have a chance of being good.’

‘But not as good as the Ichinomiya Group. Right?’ I laugh.

‘Obviously.’ Eisuke smirks at me when we hear a crack.

‘Okay, I think I got it.’ Ota says. The large statue of Venus stands before us once again… in pieces.

‘I guess you finally did something right for once Baba.’ Mamoru says.

‘Yeah! Wait what?!’

‘We were lucky that this was the statue that Miss Felicia was talking about. Who would have thought that Opaline and Felicia were such good childhood friends that Opaline gave the gems to her?’

The gems were never with Opaline to begin with. She sent them to JT’s mother as a way to rekindle their love for each other. Unfortunately, JT killed Opaline before she and Felicia could run away and start life anew. After her death, Felicia hid the gems inside the statue made by an amateur to prevent anyone from taking them.

‘The gems were the beginning of so much sorrow. Whatever stories there are, those gems hold nothing but pain.’

‘It’s a tragic love story but I think Felicia will be happy knowing that she has her own business to run and that her lover’s murderers are in prison.’

‘What I can’t believe is that Mr Lance wanted Vivian in order to blackmail you into selling the counterfeit money at the auctions.’

‘A stupid idea by a coward.’

‘Guys, I think I found it.’ Ota pulls out a golden box from the statue’s chest.

‘Is that it?’

‘Must be.’

‘Open it Eisuke!’

He takes the box and uses the key Felicia gave Eisuke. Inside is one gem, not multiple like the stories. A large diamond the size of a fist sparkles in the light.

‘Now this, will fetch a very good price.’ Eisuke smirks.

‘$20 million! $50 million! $100 million! Do I have any more bids?’

‘It’s going up.’

‘Of course it is.’

‘$150 million! $200 million!’

‘Wow.’

‘Honestly, these people are far too desperate for something good to happen to ‘em. As if a diamond can bring good fortune.’ Mamoru says.

‘$300 million! Any more!’

The diamond sits on a pedestal on top of a purple velvet cushion. I hug Eisuke’s arm and snuggle into his side as I feel him kiss the top of my head.

‘$500 million! Sold!’

66 notes · View notes

kenzieam · 4 years

Text

About Last Night - Chapter Two

@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda @oliviastan17 @mizzzpink

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

************************************************************************

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut, major angst, drama

************************************************************************

FEEDBACK IS LIFE, Y’ALL!

************************************************************************

Lev wakes up the morning after a wild night at the Compound and realizes she hasn’t spent the night alone. The fact that the man unconscious beside her is her most trusted teammate is besides the point, he’s also her best friend and

NOW WHAT THE FUCK DOES SHE DO???

*********************************************************************

Okay, this chapter is just shameless angst and self-pity, mixed in with a healthy dose of Lev’s incredible stupidity and my absolute favourite... cliffhangers.

You’ve been warned....

********************************************************************

Too late, sugar. He’s found someone else.

No. NO.

And there’s nothing you can do about it, her mind sneered.

A cold rush went through Lev and it was all she could do to not leap from the table and run.

She was becoming her mother.

She was letting love cloud her mind, dictate her actions.

No. She wouldn’t give in, she was stronger than that, baptized by the blood of the damned, literally.

If asked later how she managed to stay seated at the table and remain semi-functional, Lev wouldn’t be able to say. She’d become talented in hiding her emotions, stonewalling the therapist her father briefly tried sending her to, and disguising the true depths of her rage and sorrow as she grew from a teenager to hot-headed adult, but even she couldn’t kid herself into thinking she was successfully acting tonight.

Conversation continued without her, for if anyone noticed her discomfiture, they kindly chose to ignore it, not bringing up the fact that every single person at the table, with the exception of Bucky, Lev and Lilly, had fully expected and had in reality placed bets with each other on when their two friends would finally wake up to the attraction between them, knowing that something had gone down after the party, but not what.

Bucky’s new woman was questioned relentlessly, the guise friendly inquiry, covert ‘what the fuck, man?’ glances sent Bucky’s way whenever her attention was diverted with answering and he glowered back defiantly, refusing, with the exception of one scorching glance, loaded with too many emotions to sort out, to look at Lev.

And she felt her skin tingle every time he touched Lilly, rested his arm on her shoulders, brushed her cheek or tucked some of her long blonde hair behind her ear. If he was acting he was doing a hell of a job, there seemed to be a genuine draw between them, especially in the way Lilly would gaze at him, like he’d hung the fucking moon and, as soon as it was polite, Lev excused herself, the few bites of dessert she’d managed to choke down sour in her stomach.

Why the hell was she so upset? SHE’D WANTED THIS! SHE’D WANTED TO MAINTAIN DISTANCE, but not like this, anything but this.

And she hadn’t truly wanted distance, not really, not in the deepest parts of her heart. Once the static had cleared in her head, she’d heard the message loud and clear. Love was dangerous, love was terrifying and made fools of us all, but she would have been safe with Bucky. He wouldn’t have hurt her; he wouldn’t have let her fall. He wouldn’t have passed off lust as love and then thrown her away, driving her to insanity in the form of hysterical suicide.

He would have treasured her the way she always secretly wished to be and, at the first offering of that, she’d slashed with razor claws, wounding him perhaps permanently.

She wished for more Mead, but there was none and she instead spent the night cross-legged on the floor of her quarters, headphones secured to her ears, blasting her most angry and rage-filled death metal playlists, hoping to drown out the tears.

She shouldn’t have left her room the next morning, she wasn’t fucking hungry anyway. But she had, and the punishment had been swift and severe. Giggles preceded her arrival in the kitchen and, if she’d been listening instead of continuing to stew, she would have recognized the deep answering chuckles.

There had only been a few times in Lev’s life when she could honestly say she was breathless with shock. The first had been with her mother, slipping and sliding in her lifeblood as the woman screamed and slashed even more at her shredded forearms; the second had been when Lev had awoke disoriented under blinding lights, agony like hellfire crawling through her veins, a multitude of strange, lab-coat wearing men standing dispassionately above her, the sudden and cold realization that she’d been taken and changed, that her issues had blinded her to life’s bigger dangers and she’d fallen in with the wrong crowd, selected by HYDRA for an experimental program due to her lack of family and the extremely large chip on her shoulder and she was never going to be the same.

The third was when she had been discovered by accident and rescued by the team, half-mad in that underground bunker; her shadowy surroundings suddenly lit up and blinding her like the sun, fevered confusion and disorientation, dangerous-looking strangers all around her, their grunts of pain and surprise when she fought their hands, struggled to understand a language she’d not heard in so long. Fear and animal instinct to defend had taken over, her enhanced body too much for all but Steve and Bucky to restrain and her first real memories of freedom from that hellish cell where she’d languished, cold and slowly going insane had been of strong arms, gentle hands stroking her face and tangled hair, masculine spice and a deep, soothing voice, speaking words she no longer recognized but in a tone that calmed her nonetheless.

The forth, and final time was now, when she turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead, like she’d been slapped by the very hand that was currently caressing Lilly’s breast through her half-buttoned shirt, a shirt Lev recognized instantly, even in her shock, as the one she’d bought Bucky months ago because she’d loved how it matched his eyes. Lilly was gasping and mewling, their bodies moving in a sensual, unmistakable rhythm, Bucky’s eyes flaring with heat as they rolled upwards when her lips, hidden by her face tucked into his throat, nibbled in return for his touch and it was devastatingly obvious what they’d spent the night doing, what Lev had probably unintentionally spared herself from hearing all through the dark hours by keeping her headphones on.

What they were still doing.

Lev could smell it on them and there was no way two bodies could twine so close together if they weren’t already connected in the most visceral and primal way possible. His hand fell from Lilly’s breast, but only to drop to her hip, curling around the curve and pulling her closer still, lifting her thigh to hook around his. His eyes raised finally to Lev’s, banked lust making them look like a beast’s eyes, and his jaw clenched, teeth baring as he growled harshly. Lilly moaned as he turned his head to bite at her throat, eyes staying locked on Lev’s almost defiantly, returning the nips with an intensity that made Lilly’s hips roll against his, made her cling even tighter to his body and ratcheting up the sexual heat that was already so thick between them. Seeing Lev seemed to push him to move harder and faster, as if with each heavy thrust of his hips he was snarling at her ‘like what you see? This could have been you.’

Bucky was fucking her against the counter, her ass smacking the edge while he glared coldly over her shoulder, eyes locked with Lev’s, each heavy grunt as he thrust further driving the nail deeper into her heart and something inside her, something that cracked as she’d watched her mother die and had only continued to yawn wider with each successive hit in her life, shattered completely.

************************************************************************************* “So, you’re volunteering to take this mission? The one I haven’t been able to bribe, cajole or threaten anyone else to take on?” Tony raised a brow at Lev, half his attention still directed to a tablet in his hand, feet resting on the edge of his desk, chair tilted back.

“Yes.” Lev waited until Stark reluctantly pulled his eyes from the screen and focussed fully on her. Understanding softened the quizzical lines on his forehead.

“You know, kid… what Barnes is doing, bringing that new girl around-”

“Doesn’t matter, he can fuck whomever he wants.”

“Yeah, but after that party we all figured you two would finally-”

“You know… that shit would have been a little more helpful before all of this. I didn’t realize Bucky felt that way, I didn’t realize I felt that way.”

“Is that why you pushed him away? According to Cap you broke his heart.”

Lev flinched. “I didn’t push him away, okay? I was scared shitless and thought we should stay friends.”

“A man doesn’t look at someone the way Barnes looked at you, if they just want to stay friends.”

And the hits just kept coming. “Again, might have been a little more helpful to me before.”

“Why were you so scared?” Tony changed subjects, tilting his head. “I mean, the Manchurian Candidate isn’t my cup of tea, but he’s never hurt you, even when you were trying so hard to kill all of us in that bunker; if anything, he’d be like a pain in the ass puppy, always loyal and trying to get in your lap.” Understanding dawned. “This have something to do with your parents? You told me their divorce was ugly.”

And then some.

“Nah, their divorce was the standard train wreck, it was what came after; when the guy left her, she uh…. Well, she didn’t take it well.”

Tony arched a brow, waiting patiently and Lev was so tired of holding the weight of her burdened past by herself she gave in and opened her figurative vein.

“When uh…. When the new guy took off, she…. I found her after school one day, blood everywhere and the razor still in her hands. I was trying everything I could to stop the bleeding, to stop her, but all she wanted to do was keep cutting and keep screaming into the phone at the guy, over and over again, ‘is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?’. She… she died in my arms, her last words for him, still yelling at him. I’m not even sure if she knew I was there.”

Tony stared, stunned silent, which was quite a feat for him, and Lev swallowed uncomfortably. She’d not told anyone the whole story, not even her dad or the therapist and she felt her adrenaline beginning to rise as the spectres from her past rattled their chains and threatened to break free again.

“Shit… Lev. You need to talk to someone about that-”

“I need to go on this mission.”

“You need help.”

“The mission.” Lev repeated stubbornly. “Just the mission, Tony, okay? If my mother’s suicide taught me anything, it’s that love is the most dangerous fucking thing out there and if I hadn’t learned it then I sure as fuck did when Bucky showed up with that fucking supermodel. That’s all the help I need. Let me get out of here, clear my head and still be fucking useful as I do it. Please?”

Tony gazed at her, such pain and sympathy in his eyes that Lev was forced to look away, chew hard on her lip to keep from breaking down.

“Okay,” he finally murmured. “I’ll send you out on this one but we’re in on this together, you and me, got it?”

Lev squinted at him, not understanding.

“I’m not going to tell anyone else, but you and I are going to talk, regularly, while you’re out there. I’m keeping an eye on you, kid and when you get back… you gotta talk to someone trained in this, okay? That’s not anything anyone should have to carry alone.”

Lev snorted, trying to disguise how touched she was with more sarcasm. “I’m not carrying it alone; it can haunt your nightmares now too.”

A faint smile, but Tony’s eyes stayed troubled.

“Okay,” Lev conceded. “Now can I go?”

Tony nodded slowly. “Yeah, I got everything set up, if you’re ready now, let’s go.”

“I’m ready now.”

*********************************************************************************** Lev exhaled slowly, fighting the urge to doodle on the notebook in front of her and closed her eyes until the itch passed, then opened them again, squinting as she peered through the scope mounted in front of her.

Forty-three days now of reconnaissance, observation, stakeout…. Boring.

Although it had been in the back of Lev’s mind as the reason why no one else wanted to take this mission, meaning Tony had been about a day away from volun-telling someone they were going, it hadn’t truly hit her until now how epically draining this was.

She had nothing but time now, to think, to analyze and consider.

The communication was iffy, limited, hence the need for someone to stay here and watch the comings and goings of the suspected HYDRA affiliate; setting up remote surveillance simply wasn’t possible, nor feasible to complete the set-up of without drawing suspicion. And rotating teams wasn’t ideal either, so Lev was stuck here, admittedly exactly where she’d asked to be, and she was getting a lot of thinking done.

She had been wrong to push Bucky away, that thought was clear as crystal now after weeks of distilling in her mind while she observed and noted each movement of her quarry.

Even if she’d genuinely wanted to simply stay friends with him, wrong, she had gone about that completely ass-backwards too. There had been happiness in his eyes that morning, the smile on his face hopeful, and she’d squashed it like a bug, squashed his heart like a bug, according to Steve; no wonder he’d returned her pain so cruelly, so harshly. He’d been open and vulnerable in front of her, thinking they’d turned some corner in their relationship, holding out his heart to her that morning and she’d clumsily slapped it to the floor, stomped on with her curt announcement that the magic that had passed between them the night before was a mistake.

God, did she wish she could go back in time.

She’d slap her past self silly in that bathroom, grab her shoulders and order her to not be so fucking stupid and scared, to be the fucking hero she played at being and take that leap of faith, knowing Bucky had already taken the leap and was waiting to catch her on the other side.

It’s too late now, her inner voice whispered.

“Shut up.” She hissed back.

9:32 am – subject takes out the garbage…

************************************************************************************ “So, how’s it going?” Tony asked from the monitor, head tilted to the side. The connection wasn’t the greatest, static crawling across the screen and pulling at his outline, but his voice came through clearly enough.

“I’m bored.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Dude, why do you think everyone else passed?”

“I know, I know, it’s just…”

“Too much time to think?” Tony offered quietly.

Lev exhaled heavily. “Yeah.”

“I know all about that.” Tony continued softly. Usually at this point he would lead Lev into talking about her issues, not start baring his own demons.

“You too?” Understanding hit her like a truck. “Wait, your parents too, right? I forgot about that.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t walk in on my mother having a psychotic break, but they’re both gone.”

“And Bucky…” she couldn’t finish, shocked that she’d managed to put away this detail and forget it for so long.

“No, The Winter Soldier.” Tony clarified. “I’ve made my peace with that, HYDRA killed my parents, not that lovesick sap I see dragging his sorry ass around the compound all day.”

“Wait, what? Dragging his ass around? He’s got Lilly now.”

“Not anymore. Not sure what happened, but she left a couple weeks ago… not long after you took off, actually.”

“Huh.” Lev pondered this, her confusion deepening. What the hell did that mean? Was it just no fun fucking his girlfriend anymore without Lev standing there watching? “And you just decided to mention it now?”

Tony smiled faintly. “Today’s the first time you’ve even mentioned his name too, kid.”

“Touché…. Wait, you just needed me to stay here and finish the job!”

“Why? Would hearing about Lilly leaving make you want to come back and talk to the guy?” Tony challenged evenly; brow raised.

Shit… it did, didn’t it? That’s exactly what she was steamed about, wasting her time here instead of falling on her knees in front of Bucky and begging for his forgiveness. Still, she hated to let Tony know he was right, he could be such an arrogant prick sometimes. “So. What if it did?”

Tony snorted again, chuckling. “You two, Jesus Christ… Still, I’d appreciate if you could stay a bit longer out there.”

“You owe me, Stark.”

“I do? You volunteered, and now you’re trying to bail? Tough, kid.”

Lev stuck out her tongue, chafing mildly at this responsible adult nonsense.

“Brat,” Tony commented mildly. “Another week, Lev. Please?”

“It’s good to hear you say please.”

“It’ll be even better if you stay there like I asked and then come back and talk to that therapist I set up for you.”

Lev clenched her teeth, debating her response. Knee-jerk told her snarl and tell Tony off, to mind his own business, she’d made all sorts of progress just talking with him, but a deeper part of her knew it was time, she needed to confront and drain this wound, she couldn’t let it’s poison taint her life any further. “Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t sound so damn happy. I’m paying top dollar to keep the best grief counselor on the East Coast on retainer.”

“Thanks.” Lev injected true appreciation in her tone and his expression softened.

“Brat.” He repeated fondly. “I gotta go, talk to you in a couple of days, alright?”

“Yeah,” Lev replied softly, offering a real smile.

************************************************************************************* Lev tried not to hurry, jostle the pack on her back and maybe make too much noise. Nobody was following her, that much she was sure of, but she’d managed over fifty days of surveillance without being discovered and didn’t want to disrupt her streak. Nearing two months in a depressing tenement in a dying Eastern European town had been all sorts of boring, staring out through faded old curtains to the building across the narrow alley, but she’d managed and now it was time to go home. Tony was waiting, with a quinjet, at a site a dozen miles out and Lev was eager to see the man again.

He’d passed on her messages to the team, for Lev had left so furtively and quickly that she hadn’t told anyone else, not even Steve, and he’d relayed their messages back due to the constraints in their communications, but she was eager to see Stark, hell, anyone, in the flesh again. There was only so many games of Solitaire you could play on a dingy tabletop as you kept one eye on the window and Lev had discovered that limit long ago.

But… Bucky.

She still hadn’t spoken to him.

She’d not told him she was leaving; hell, he probably hadn’t even pulled out of Lilly yet by the time she was heading for the jet and there’d been no message from him in the ones Stark had relayed, not that Lev had expected any.

He probably hoped she didn’t come back, and a part of Lev was tempted. But no, she was a part of the Avengers, whether he liked it or not, and she could function as a member of said team even if she no longer had any meaningful contact with the Winter Soldier again. She’d have to figure out a new strategy for when her nightmares tore her from sleep and there would be no more Bucky to save her, as well as what she was going to do now when his nightmares echoed down the halls and she wanted to run to comfort him, but that could be solved easily enough. She could switch floors, sleep with earplugs or just plain gut it out, go cold turkey until the impulses faded, until Steve or Sam or, most likely, nobody’s presence took the place of comfort and support when their mutual nightmares grew to be too much in the dark.

But she’d miss the softness of his voice in the dark as her heart raced, miss the gentle way his hand would stroke across her forehead, thumb rubbing at her cheekbone; his bright, earnest eyes locked on hers as he talked her down, helped her match her gasping breaths to his steady ones.

She’d miss the way he’d cling to her when he was trapped in his own hells. The faint tremble in his massive frame that would start to cease, begin to relax as soon as he sensed her touch, the way his arms would band around her and hold her close, his body wrapped around hers like a shield but his face buried in her neck like a child’s while he grounded himself again. The way he’d murmur her name over and over again like a mantra, soothing himself back to sleep or, more likely, to the faint drowsy, dreamy, pillow talk stage, laying next to each other for hours as night died, talking about everything and anything that seemed too fragile to hold up and not shrivel under day’s harsh glare.

How had she thrown all that away? How had she not seen what everyone else apparently had? Actual physical love and sex had been about the last boundary they’d had, they’d been intimate and close in every other way possible and yet Lev had deluded herself into thinking, no… into telling herself stubbornly, that it was only friendship, that the way she’d sometimes catch Bucky gazing at her were nothing, only projections of the way she sometimes would watch him.

What a fucking idiot.

Christ, she was going to take a hellacious long bath when she got back to the Compound and compose a doozy of an apology to match her depths of remorse.

She glanced at her GPS, saw the jet was mere dozens of feet away now, in a clearing so well hidden she, even so close, still couldn’t see and picked up her pace. Hopefully, Tony brought some of those Cow Tales caramels she was such a whore for like she’d asked.

Pushing through the last break of trees, Lev paused, just admiring for a moment the stark (tee hee) splendour of the sleek jet amidst the woods. With a muted hiss, the ramp descended, and Lev turned her attention to the pilot.

“Tony-” her voice died in her throat.

#bucky #bucky barne #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #au bucky #au bucky barnes #au bucky barnes fanfiction #au bucky barnes fanfic #au bucky barnes angst #bucky and lev #bucky and levi #bucky barnes drama #bucky barnes romance #bucky the morning after #bucky mixed signals

15 notes · View notes

faulty-writes · 4 years

Text

Warning: Mention of Nightmares.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

[You always kept your feelings for your Sensei a secret, but after a mission goes wrong and leaves you with nightmares. You end up going to Aizawa for help.]

Your heart was racing as you shot up from the bed, covered in a cold sweat. You were trembling and a few tears escaped, sliding down your cheeks until they reached your chin. Your tear droplets then landed on your hands which were currently tightened into fists. You were a hero, you shouldn’t be this scared ...this afraid. But you couldn’t help it, even if it had been a month since the mission that went haywire. You still had nightmares about it which you found ridiculous.

But you kept it a secret, it seemed like you were full of secrets lately. Including how you felt about Shouta Aizawa, your teacher. The man you looked up to more than anyone and the one you always thought about after each and every nightmare. Yet, this one felt different. Usually, you’d jolt awake, hug your pillow with the image of Aizawa in your mind and slowly calm yourself down.

But it didn’t seem to be working tonight, your tears continued, and no matter how hard you tried to stop shaking, to be the brave hero you were training to become. You couldn’t and it made you feel pathetic. Were heroes allowed to be this scared or were some just better at hiding it? You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer, but you knew you needed something to make these nightmares finally come to an end.

Well ...maybe not something, maybe someone. You knew you were crazy for thinking this way, but your teacher’s had always made it a point that they would be there for their students. Wanting to push them to be their very best, that had to include helping certain students over difficulties, correct? Well, either way, you were going to find out. You quickly threw on a hoodie and left your dorm.

You were still trembling, your face moist with your tears as you made your way to the teacher's dorm. You knew that Aizawa was dedicated and often stayed up late doing extra work or preparing lesson plans for his students. You proved yourself correct when you peeked your head into the only lit room you saw and there he was. Sitting at his desk, a tablet was on a stand next to him and he absentmindedly dragged his finger across the screen.

You swallowed, staring at him a moment. As usual, you found yourself dazed by the way he looked. His long black hair fell to his shoulders and the tight black shirt he was wearing revealed his muscles perfectly. “Hm?” he turned his head when he sensed your presence and a shiver ran down your spine. “Uh ...I c-can e-expla-” he interrupted you when he pushed his chair back and walked over to you, an angry expression on his face.

“Do you enjoy breaking the rules? You should be in your own dorm building,” he said and his angry tone made you glance at the floor. Your hands were pressed against your chest and that tremble returned, the weight of fear causing your heart to drop. Aizawa’s anger lessened when he noticed how you reacted and narrowed his eyes. He said nothing as he reached up and gently grabbed your chin.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him fearfully. He, on the other hand, leaned close, studying your face. “Have you been crying?” he asked before a sigh came and he dropped his hand. “What happened?” he crossed his arms and despite his intimidating personality. You knew he had a soft spot for his students and would often go to various lengths to help or reason with them. You were no exception to that rule.

You swallowed, the memories of your nightmare flashing before your eyes. “I …” you began, shifting your eyes away from him though you still felt his stare. Those eyes could burn a hole through anything. You took a deep breath, letting it out before hesitantly looking back at him. He deserved that much, even though you couldn’t help but feel pathetic and cowardice. “I-I’ve been having ...nightmares,” you muttered, feeling your face grow hot.

It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, but if Aizawa found out about your feelings or what you did to normally comfort yourself after your nightmares. You’d be more embarrassed, so might as well choose the less revealing option. Still, your eyes quickly averted his gaze and once more focused on the floor. Your heart pounded, just panicking at how he would react to your confession. You expected him to scoff and tell you to go back to bed and stop wasting his time.

Instead, he stepped forward, and a moment later, his arms wrapped around you. “A-Aizawa-sensei?” you questioned as you found yourself being pulled against his chest and his hand began to rub your back. “So I assume that’s the reason you’ve been so tired in my class lately.” you swallowed, oh yeah. That was a thing, wasn’t it? Sometimes your nightmares were so bad you refused to go back to sleep until the following night which obviously made it hard to keep your eyes open during class.

Your cheeks deepened in color. Who else had the opportunity or chance to be this close to the one they liked and have them actually be concerned for your well-being? It was almost like a dream come true, a dream that would hopefully keep the nightmares at bay. You couldn’t help but notice his scent, he smelled like pine and coffee but somehow it suited him.

You realized you had gone a moment without speaking, “I ...y-yes.” you replied, your words coming out in a shy squeak. “Hm, I see,” he replied, tilting his head ever so slightly and you could feel his hair tickle your forehead. You had to restrain yourself from reaching up and running your fingers through it, his hair always looked so soft. Surely it would be fun to play with, despite you knowing it was inappropriate to think of your Sensei that way.

He continued to rub your back which was soothing and that underlying fear you once felt seemed to fade. A breath sounded before he pulled away and you almost missed his touch. If you had it your way, you would bathe in the warmth he provided until you suffocated. But once more, you were reminded of the relationship you held with him and pushed those feelings down. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you once more glanced away, the beat of your heart echoing in your ears.

“I know nightmares can be a harsh reminder of reality,” he said and your head snapped up when you felt his hand on your shoulder. You tried to ignore the weak feeling in your knees as you stared at him, yet again the thought of how handsome Shouta Aizawa was crossed your mind. Especially when he was looking down at you with those beautiful eyes, his hair draped over his shoulders and his lips pressed together in a thin line.

Aizawa’s hand came to rest on your cheek and again, you snapped out of your own thoughts. “Huh?” you glanced over at his hand, willing yourself not to become flustered. He crotched down some, getting to your eye level and moved his hand from your cheek to your hair. You nearly gasped as you felt his fingers gently massage your scalp. Then he did something you didn’t expect, he smiled.

The sight of which caused your heart to flutter and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. He ...he was smiling and damn, you wished you had a camera. He looked amazing and you knew that smile could heal wounds for you seemed to forget all your worries at that moment.

“I care about my students and that includes you, I wish you told me about your problem sooner but it makes no difference now,” he said before dropping his hand, leaving your hair slightly ruffled. A moment later, he leaned forward and you felt his soft warm lips press against your forehead. “Ah …” you shivered, frozen in disbelief that your Sensei’s lips touched your skin. When he pulled away, you took a breath. Almost choking as the oxygen filled your lungs.

“Next time, don’t hesitate to come to me. I may be your Sensei, but I can also be that friend you can rely on when you need it the most. Alright kiddo.” he said, that smile still on his face. You swallowed, still a little shy because of that forehead kiss. But you nodded, “Uh y-yeah, sorry …” you muttered, glancing away. “Mm, are you?” Aizawa said, crossing his arms again. Looking down at you, he felt a small tinge of mischief come over him and leaned close.

You looked back, a squeak escaping you. Aizawa was an inch away from your face and you nearly fainted. You trembled as he reached out, his fingers ghosting over your neck before gliding through your hair. “Y-Yes?” you replied, unsure of what he was doing as you felt his fingers curl into your hair to keep a loose grip on it. He chuckled and you wondered if he knew your feelings for him because the next thing you felt was the feather touch of his lips against yours.

It wasn’t quite a kiss, but your lips did touch and your face lit up like a firecracker. You stumbled back, your body acting on its own, and Aizawa chuckled at your reaction. Slipping his hands into his pockets. “I thought you’d react that way,” he said, “don’t think I haven’t caught onto your feelings for me, it’s been a distraction in class.” you felt your heart sink, God ...so he did know.

It was a little embarrassing, but honestly, you should have expected him to figure it out. Considering he was not only a Pro Hero but a very observant one at that. “But at least you were smart enough to keep it to yourself.” you could tell by his tone that he was teasing you and it only resulted in you frowning. But you weren’t sure what you could say, there was no point in denying it or arguing with him.

Instead, you grumbled. Allowing the silence to fill the air and the embarrassing tension that came along with it. “Just remember that small token of affection next time you have a nightmare,” he turned to walk back to his desk, “that being said, return to your dorm. I expect you to be wide awake for class tomorrow and remember if you ever have a problem, you can come to me or any of your teachers. We’re here to help.” you shyly nodded.

“T-Thank you, Aizawa-Sensei …” you replied, bowing before you shyly scurried away. Your face bright red and your mind now replaying the moments you had with him, rather than your nightmares. You were no longer sure if going to Aizawa had been a good idea or not and the fact that he knew about your feelings may make dealing with class a little harder. But either way, the man your heart called out for was your light and he certainly made the nightmares go away.

#shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha fanfiction

115 notes · View notes

iphoenixrising · 5 years

Note

I was thinking about the Titans working with the Avengers Kon and Bart still a little ticked at how Tim was treated brag about how fast Tim bonded with the Avengers. How Tony is seconds away from adopting Tim. How Bucky and Tim have come so close that he is in agreement with Tony to kidnap their new son. How they had to drag Tim out of Tony's lab where he and Peter were playing with DUM-E. To add insult Cass shows up and says how happy Tim is. Dick & Jason are off to get their baby bird back.

Hi babe.

WELP. This is not exactly what you were thinking of, but dammit. Dammit. Angst, you know?

But I mean, I really do enjoy two things: Tony Stark taking Tim in the Tower so they can literally wreck ALL the things; also, the Bats realizing the absolute fuckery of how Tim pretty much got booted out of the role as Robin, then running elbows over assholes trying to get him back and make up for it.

So, I kind of thought it might start out like this maybe...

“How do we look, Tin Man?”

“We look fantastic as always, Klondike. Sexy is our aesthetic. See anything from your perch?”

“You know what I’m looking at, Tones.” The Winter Soldier only partly means the view in Gotham.

And yes, Iron Man already has JARVIS focused on the two vigilantes walking around their Robin’s penthouse apartment. He knew letting Tim come back to Gotham was a bad idea, but dammit Steve had been adamant, saying they shouldn’t try to sway the kid.

“He needs to make his own decisions, Tony. We want him to come back because he wants to, not because we’re pressuring him, right?”

Tony and Buck had immediately called bullshit, but couldn’t argue when Tim himself, old backpack and worn hoodie, no mask over his eyes or utility belt around his hips, just a 19 year old kid that looked so much younger, so timid, so broken without his alter ego.

“It’s time for me to go back,” he’d said quietly to the gathered Avengers, a whole different kid without the mask. “I just wanted to say good-bye.”

His eyes are violet-blue and soft when he looks around at them, seemingly satisfied he’d single-handedly brought the team back together after the shit show that was Civil War. He can leave now since the mission he’d set out to do is accomplished, and is apparent since they’re all gathered in New York City once again, leaving the Compound for the new incarnation of SHIELD with Fury at the helm, pretty much infiltrating the Tower to start the road back to becoming the family they used to be.

(And God is it crazy, fighting and living together with the insanity that is their lives.)

It started with a broken metal arm, alien invasions, and a plate of superior nachos.

It ended up with the team saving each other’s asses, coming to an understanding, fighting it out, then crying it out.

It ended with Wanda sobbing in Tony’s chest while his arms around her are almost as tight as Peitro’s once were, with Steve red-eyed on Tony’s other side, whispering in his hair how never again – together means together, with Bucky’s forehead against the back of his neck and tears streaming down his face, with Bruce and Nat holding hands while their legs tangled with Tony’s, Steve’s, and Vision’s, with Sam laughing at them all while he’s wiping his eyes, with the whole group literally jumping on Thor the minute he touches down with the new haircut and air of perpetual weariness, with them taking up a big table in their favorite 24-hour diner feeding each other and telling stories about what they’ve all been up to since that awful thing at the airport.

Red Robin’s run with them started with fractured friendships and ends with them tripping all over each other during meals and movie nights. Bruce’s curry, Nat’s homemade dressing for the salad, Thor dipping in to snatch bites from everyone’s contribution. But this time around, it’s Sam and Wanda chopping vegetables while Bucky directs a sleepy Tony to a barstool close but out of the traffic, turning around to let the mechanic tie up his hair for him before he joins the cooking fiasco.

A week after they all move back in, he feels good leaving them with the rooms in the living quarters of Avengers Tower full of light and voices and warmth, just like it should have been. He’s giving himself a million vigilante points for this one – even if he’s going back out with no team and no safety net. It’s fine. He’s fine. He can’t stay forever anyway.

Besides, Kon and Bart have been trying to find him again, so it’s time to move on before they get too close. And really, he’s got no other excuses to stay. Bucky’s arm is maintained regularly, the broken team is working and the Accords (thankfully had been attacked on more than one side, thanks to big industries like WE and Queen, Inc. alongside Stark Industries) are modified to protect superheroes rather than stop them from doing what they do best.

All-in-all, he’d say the mission has been a success.

“Tim,” and the Captain moves away from Tony and Bucky’s side, one hand automatically out toward him, “you absolutely don’t have to go.”

“I appreciate the offer,” and he clears his suddenly tight throat, making sure the hood and too-long hair obscure his face. “But, it’s time.”

It only takes a glance back at the full team crowded around the communal floor television while the four player Mario Kart game stays on pause. The faces full of devastation make the message clear enough. With a decisive nod at the silent statement going through the team, Steve turns back to try arguing, the teenager is just–

–gone.

Tony, however, can’t shake the feeling of wrongness in the abrupt departure, and absolutely starts tracking the second he can pull away from the team to set-up protocols to trace the steps of their vigilante.

He listened to Steve’s half-hearted, “you know we can’t interfere with the Justice League, Tony. And Batman? Gotham is his territory. We go there, and there’s no guarantee we’ll be making it out if we even get past city limits.”

“Those guys might have the whole city wired with traps,” Natasha grudgingly admits. “Everyone knows the capes are unpredictable and terrifying. We should at least go through proper channels to get permission. Even if he’s still–”

“Oracle has nothing on me,” Tony’s eyes are all for the blipping red dot on his floating holo-screen.

Steve and Bucky exchange a glance behind Tony’s back, eyes meeting with a silent message. Bucky smirks and slides the muzzle up his face. Steve briskly turns on a heel and leaves the workshop with a plan already forming on how he’s going to run interference with the JLA so Tony and Bucky could sneak into Gotham without making a fuss.

Bucky strides the opposite way, hand on Tony’s bicep, leaning in to talk low, “tell me ya got something more stealthy than red n’ gold, Doll. That or yer gonna play my Oracle, and get me in the kid’s penthouse from somewhere safe n’ sound.”

“Oh hell no. You’re not going anywhere without me. I’ve got a trick up my sleeve, Buckeroo, and it’s going to get us an audience with our disappearing vigilante.”

Tony’s satisfied grin makes him look adorable enough that Bucky has to literally bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from kissing (their) the engineer until he begs.

(Not like this. Steve had to be there when they were finally ready to tell Tony how they felt about him. Soon, they’d agreed last night after finding the exhausted mechanic asleep on the kitchen table with a tablet clutched in his hand and could finally admit to themselves how much he made them want.)

“I’ll bite. What d’ya got?”

“Just a little something super waiting in the wings. JJ, fire up the Quinjet. We’ve got a Robin to visit.”

With the Winter Soldier watching the two vigilantes facing Tim through his scope, Tony stands on a closer rooftop with the very new, very nice stealth armor, recording the footage of Nightwing and the Red Hood. His blood heats when it looks like they’re yelling at Red Robin while the younger is obviously bandaging himself up after a bad run-in.

And they’re not even helping him for fuck’s sake.

“Wow, that’s cold,” Bucky says softly while the comm in their ears are giving them the whole conversation. Something about Tim taking on a guy named Bane by himself. Seems to Buck like the kid took the asshole down, so the ass-chewing the other vigilantes are handing him seems to be pretty fucking ungrateful.

“They don’t deserve him. We have more sciency things for him to do. Crime fighting is always fun, but why not build amazing shit in-between?”

“Aw, c’mon Tones. Gotta let ‘im outta the lab so’s we can spar. Kid’s always got tricks. Makes fer some fun.”

“I know that’s why you like him so much, Barnes.”

“What, like I ain’t seen you fightin’ outside the suit before?”

“I’m not teenage vigilante kind of street-smart. I will punch the hell out of you, make some nifty explosions, re-configure your systems...oh.”

“Finally gettin’ it are ya?” And he can’t help it when his tone drops a little, watching Nightwing’s arms flail. “S’why I like ‘im. Reminds me of you, Doll.”

“...you might actually make me blush, Soldier. How novel.”

“If it helps, Steve never believed ya were just a guy in a suit. Not from the moment he met ya.”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“Like I ain’t hung out with ya the past few months? I know how ya think, Stark, and ya ain’t just the armor.”

“Sure, sure. In all actuality, I’m the most well-paid consultant that ever lived.”

The Winter Soldier’s eyes flicker over where the Mark XXI is ducked in the shadows, jaw clenching because Tony’s odd self-deprecating tendencies bothers him just as much as it bothers Stevie. At some point, they’re going to address it with Tony, face-to-face. Not now, but that day is going to come, so help him.

In the meantime, Bucky tunes back in on the conversation happening inside, flips the safety on his rifle, and starts moving closer to Tony’s roof since they might not even need Plan B after all.

“What does that even mean, Timmy?”

“Calm it down, Big Wing. Pretender, look–”

“Do you see a fucking R on my chest, Hood?” And even from where he’s trucking over rooftops, Bucky can see the tension in Tim’s spine, the fast, angry movements as he tapes gauze pads to obviously fresh stitches. “I’m not ‘pretending’ fuck anymore. So how about you fuck off with that ‘Pretender’ shit.”

“...all right. That’s fair, so my bad. But lookit, B is all about ya coming ta the yearlies, you feel me?”

“What part of ‘it’s not my place’ isn’t clear here?”

The sigh from Nightwing is loud enough to hear it over the microphone Tony planted when they touched down.

“You have got to get over this thing,Tim. Dami’s been Robin for–”

“That’s what you think? That I’m fucking jealous, Dick?”

“He was a kid. He’s not still crying about the past–”

“Get. The Fuck. Out.”

The quiet calm of Tim’s tone is enough to make Bucky pause, and the sleek black Iron Man armor to step out of the shadows.

“I’m serious Tim! Listen–”

“I’m done. Done with you, done with the Bats, I’m fucking done. So do us both a favor and forget you were ever here.”

Nightwing flinches, his shoulders and back getting tight by the time Bucky is beside Iron Man, frowning behind the muzzle.

“I think we’ve heard about enough,” is distorted but still so Tony through the suit’s synthesizers. “Want a ride, Red Dawn? We can show up and be the likeable ones for once.”

“Really, Iron Man? I thought only Cap got special rides.”

“Well, I will always make an exception for my Bucky Bear, you know,” and he wiggles an arm, sighs a little as the Winter Soldier steps up against the suit, stepping up on to the rocket boots.

Having Bucky against him is something he can keep locked in the secret file in his brain he pulls up when he has bad days. Things like Steve hugging him, trips to the ball field, Bucky hanging out with him in the workshop while Steve drew or read or did paperwork on his tablet.

(Things he can never have. Sure, he can want, but he can’t let it get too real. Locking it away is safer for everyone.)

Knocking on the door of Tim’s balcony, shaking up the Bats, is really much more satisfying than Tony would have thought ten seconds ago.

He knows Tim is shocked, had probably been expected the big, bad Bat at his door rather than two Avengers waiting for entrance.

In his black and gold stealth armor, Tony waves metal fingers when the curtains pull back and Tim’s mouth drops open on the other side.

The door is wrenched open, and they can both hear, “we ain’t done here, Tim,” from inside, but Tim absolutely ignores it to stare wide-eyed at Iron Man and the Winter Soldier just, you know, hanging out on his balcony of all the fucking places.

“Tony. Bucky, what the hell–”

“Leave you alone for a few minutes, and you’re all kinds of hurt. Why am I not shocked? Winter Wonderland, are you shocked?” Tony gives no shits about interrupting this cute little family get-together and absolutely pushes his way in to Tim’s penthouse without a fuck to give.

As normal, Bucky is more of a doer than a talker when he’s in the mask, so Tony gets to watch him do that incredibly sexy murder strut right over the threshhold and grab a hold of Tim’s elbow. He snickers at the older vigilantes obviously gawking as the Winter Soldier pushes the third Robin down in a seat at his kitchen table right by the open first-aid kit.

“Zadnitsa,” the Winter soldier snarls in rebuke, already digging out more gauze pads.

“I missed you too, Frosty,” Tim shoots back, obliging the dangerous assassin by holding still while the gauze pads are taped down and more alcohol wipes are used to disinfect a serious slice on Tim’s shoulder blade.

Honestly, Tony has no idea how he even managed to stitch it himself, but the helmet swings over to the two surprised vigilantes.

“This sure as hell ain’t a good way to show it, y’know,” Bucky pulls the goggles off but leaves the mask, metal arm moving seamlessly while he gently pats the remaining slice with disinfectant.

“Well, I didn’t expect you two to just drop in or anything. Or else, I might have a nice psycho for you to take down.”

“Well, shows you, don’t it?”

“I guess so. But I do have a bag full of plums in the fridge, so you’re in luck.”

“Hell yeah, Red.”

The faceplate of the helmet kicks up and Tony is grinning beneath it, “aww, plums for our favorite murder bot? What about coffee for your best engineer friend–”

Bucky pauses abruptly, and Tony sees the movement, a soft sigh of sound, but only just. The knife as long as his forearm is just suddenly out, metal hand on Tim’s good shoulder, holding him down, some automatic instinct to protect the kid makes Tony bite the inside of his cheek so he isn’t smiling.

The other vigilantes, however, are really intimidated in their own right since Red Hood has twin .45s in his gloved hands and Nightwing’s escrima sticks spark a few times for good measure.

“Tim, get up slowly and step back,” Nightwing’s voice is just this side of dangerous.

“We gotcha back, Tim, you feel me?” Hood’s thumbs flick the safety, a whole lot of not fuckin’ around happening right here.

“Do me a personal favor,” the unmasked vigilante deadpans, “and go fuck yourselves.” Tim wiggles out from under the hold on his shoulder and stands, gingerly puts a hand on Bucky’s brandishing the knife. He waits for those blue-gray eyes to slide over to him.

“C’mon, Bucky,” Tim tries to cajole softly, “these guys aren’t a threat. The knife is very nice. Is it new? You know I like to look at new weapons, but you can put it away. Promise.”

“Malyutka,” is a question more than a statement.

Tim huffs in annoyance because honestly, he’s not a kid. (Welp, take into account, 100+ year old assassin, and maybe he can see the point.)

“My apartment, my rules, and if anyone, anyone,” he stresses, glaring at the two tense vigilantes, “gets blood on my floors or walls, then it’s fucking on. Everyone get that?”

“You’ll have to forgive us for being jumpy,” Nightwing deadpans, “we have a tendency to treat legendary assassins with immediate attention when one’s in our city, right Hood?”

The stiff angle of the guns doesn’t waver, nor does the helmet move. “Gotta say,” Hood’s voice is deep, even with the synths, “always thought this might go down different if our paths ever crossed again, Soldier.”

From behind the muzzle, Bucky’s teeth flash white, a terrifying smile, “last time my Handler wouldn’t let me kill you, Red Hood. Wanna to give it a go now that I don’t have one?”

“Sounds like a fucking party to me, sweetheart. Ya gimmie a time n’ I’ll bring the motherfuckin’ confetti.”

“Any. Fuckin’. Time–”

“As entertaining as this is,” Tony interjects, the soft haaa when the armor opens up to let him step out, “our host absolutely said no blood, right boys?”

Slowly, weapons lower, but the tension is high in the room, only broken when Bucky points a gloved finger back to the chair Tim was previously in.

(And during the time Tim had spent with the Avengers, none of them knew the Winter Soldier and Red Hood had met before. He’s going to want some details on that little scuffle.)

“Thank-you. I’m glad good manners are winning out over bullshit posturing,” and Tony pours on his media smile, giving Nightwing and the Red Hood something else to look at while Bucky gently finishes up with their vigilante. “Because really. We’re literally all on the same side here. We just happen to go through legal channels to beat the shit out of bad guys. Not as much fun, but you can’t beat the tax breaks.”

“Mmhm, I’m really hoping you aren’t in Gotham as Iron Man, Mr. Stark. You know there are rules about being in this city.”

And Tony would bet his entire fortune Nightwing has a listening device somewhere in that ridiculously tight suit for the Dark Knight to monitor what’s happening in Red Robin’s apartment right this moment.

(Especially the fact they know his civilian identity and are comfortable enough calling him by his real name. They probably aren’t going to be on any Justice League party invites for a while after this. He wonders how Steve is doing with Superman and Wonder Woman right about now.)

“I asked them to come,” Tim interjects, not bothering to glance at either vigilante, “they’re here to help me with a case. My lead is a dead-end, so we’re all going to be out of Gotham as soon as fucking possible. The Batman will have to deal with it.”

Tony hums, crosses his arms over his chest. He meets Bucky’s quick glance, quirks a grin since maybe they could convince him to come to New York instead. Or, if his Plan B is still waiting in the wings, they could do something altogether different.

(There’s a whole floor available in the Tower, and wouldn’t that be some incentive for Tim to get it together and land somewhere more permanent?)

“Tim…” and the wealth of warning there isn’t enough to earn Nightwing the youngest vigilante’s attention after the last gauze pad goes on.

But the youngest of the vigilantes stands from his chair, turns to give them the same fuck you and the zip line you rode in on attitude, “don’t fucking even with me, N.”

“You can’t come to the yearly gathering for one night, but you can pal around with the Avengers?”

And oh! Is that jealousy he hears? Tony has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking because wow, Nightwing does not sound very happy.

“It’s none of your fucking business–” and that tension is back in the square of Tim’s bare shoulders, the flex of his forearms.

Tony easily picks up his discarded nerd shirt, pointedly steps between him and the glowering vigilantes, shoves the shirt over the kid’s head and ignores his sputtering.

“I’m sure nothing that would interest you,” Tony makes a point to stay between the two groups, “I mean, you don’t work with Red Robin anymore, right? So he’s a free agent. Believe me, he’s been super helpful with us in New York, I don’t know if we'd all be in the same room without him.”

Tony is being absolutely innocent about it, letting Tim shove his arms in the right places while he grins at the obviously unhappy vigilantes over his shoulder.

The glare Tim levels at him would have probably withered anyone else. Good thing Tony has very, very little shame, and between him and Steve, the best troll in the Avengers award is still undecided. This might just put him over the top. He doesn’t need Bucky to remove his mask to know there’s a smirk underneath.

“I’m sorry, what now?” The whiteouts swing from Tim to Tony, “since when don’t we work together? We only have since you were twelve–”

“And we haven’t since your Robin kicked me the fuck out of my home. I’ve been out of the Cave, out of this city, and out of your life since then, so don’t come here with some attitude about it.” Tim’s eyes slide to the Red Hood. “You two coming here to ask me about the yearlies? Like I’ve been there for the last three? Like I haven’t come back unless someone called me in because, let’s face it, I’m just another body to fight the good fight, right? So this? Acting like I’m just going to forgive and forget? You can both absolutely go fuck yourselves.”

And some tiny part of Tony feels utterly proud in that moment, feels somewhat vindicated at how cold and calm Tim is, how he’s just laying it all out on the table, no bullshit, no contingencies, no taking the high road, no giving in, and it’s so much the Tim he knows, squaring his shoulders and facing both older vigilantes with anger so cold it burns.

“I–I mean, Tim–”

“There is literally nothing you could say right now that I’d want to hear, Nightwing. Nothing. All those years of fighting together, of being partners? I never would have guessed you’d be the one to stab me in the back, but I guarantee you won’t get another chance.”

But, the night gets that much better when Nightwing and the Red Hood gives them the death glare of doom before Tim pretty much kicks them out of his apartment.

Tony isn’t cheering out loud, but wow does he want to.

“Timmy,” Nightwing gives it one last, desperate try, turning at an impossible angle with one leg out the window to face the de-masked vigilante, tone low and serious.

“You’re a few years too late, Nightwing. Now get the fuck out.”

Tim had flicked his hand out behind him, a flat palm telling Tony and Bucky to stay back when he pretty much forced both vigilantes out of his apartment with a sneer of disdain and a promise to set his security protocols to shock the utter fuck out of them if they ever tried to come back to his last hold-over in Gotham. By the way the Red Hood stood shock still, and Nightwing’s frown deepened, they apparently believed him.

While Tim shuts the windows, locking them with finality, Bucky finally pulls off his muzzle and goggles, exchanges a worried glance with Tony when he realizes Tim’s hands are shaking.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Is soft but firm, is obvious Tim is trying to put himself back together.

“Well, as I said earlier–”

“Don’t bullshit me, Tony. There’s no case.”

With how empty and cold Tim sounds, how his hands are fisted at his sides, the tremble going through him, Tony pauses to take in the rest of the signs. He catches Bucky’s eyes and makes an executive decision.

Plan B it is.

“Okay, you’re right. No case. But, what I do have for you is more interesting and important than a case right now. Meaning, I still need your help with it.”

And when the kid finally turns to face him, face them, Tony can see the effects of dealing with Nightwing and the Red Hood in the clench of Tim’s jaw and the way he won’t really meet Tony’s eyes. A distraction is exactly what he needs, a reason to get the hell out of this city before he drowns in his own misery.

Instead, Tony turns his head toward a window, “all right, kid. Time to make your dramatic entrance!”

The super speed never gets old.

Not to mention the fact, Superboy is absolutely adorable when he’s just suddenly there, grabbing Tim around the waist and hugging him a little desperately.

“Oh my God, Kon?!”

Blue eyes blown wide, Tim’s eyes go from the meta-human wrapped around him to Tony’s soft smile to Bucky’s gentle smirk.

“Tim, Tim I can’t– I just! I...I missed you so much, Tim. We all missed you so much,” and Kon-El’s voice is barely a croak, heavy and thick with emotion, his face buried in the side of Tim’s throat, his back hunched over the smaller vigilante. “I needed to see you. Sorry about this, but...I’m not really.”

Like muscle memory, Tim’s brings a hand to the back of his best friend’s neck, making small circles against the tight tendons with his finger tips, still looking more shocked than pissed.

Tony is absolutely going to take it as a win.

**zadnitsa means ass or asshole kind of. Thanks Google Translate :D

#crossover au #tim drake #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #jason todd #dick grayson #conner kent #winter answers #yet another drabble #my drabble #my writing

194 notes · View notes