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spencers-renaissance · 4 years

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baby, you’re my new years’ eve

Summary: You and Emily are hosting a New Years’ Eve party for all of your friends, but she’s acting a little weird. You finally find out why when the clock strikes midnight.

Tags: fluff, nye fic, proposal, getting engaged, domesticity, romance, flirting, day in the life

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

It’s almost 10am by the time you get back from your morning errands, laden with bags and a dusting of snow decorating your coat. You shrug out of your coat and scarf, peel off your gloves, and kick off your boots as you venture further into the house you share with your girlfriend, a warm safe haven from the frozen wind outside. All the Christmas lights the two of you had put up together a few weeks ago are turned on, and the warm and happy feeling settling in your chest only intensifies when you shoulder the kitchen door open to see Emily awake and drinking a cup of coffee at the table.

“You’re up,” you smile, knowing that Emily likes a lie-in on her days off, and she damn well deserves it, too.

“You’re back,” she echoes, a matching bright smile lighting up her face. She’s still in her pyjamas, a dressing gown thrown around her shoulders, and her hair has been let down from its bun, a slight curl to it after having slept with it up. She looks absolutely beautiful, naturally.

“I am.” You walk further into the room and put your bags down on the kitchen counter, beginning to unpack them. “I picked up some stuff for the party tonight, but I also got you breakfast.” You grab a plate from the cupboard and load it up with the pastries you’d bought from the local bakery, sold to you by the baker who knows both you and Emily by name.

“Oh,” she gasps in delight. “Have I told you lately I love you?” She reaches eagerly for the plate to place it on the table before reaching around for a kiss.

“You have,” you confirm, amused, “you tell me every day, Em.”

“Because it’s true,” she nods with wide eyes through a mouthful of almond croissant.

Laughing, you grab yourself a plate and a few pastries before joining Emily at the table. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Mm, it was a bit broken,” she admits, not quite meeting your eye for some reason. “But I made up for it with a little lie-in this morning.” Emily never sleeps badly at home. She’s always said that sleeping in her own bed with you wrapped around her is the best sleeping tablet she’s ever tried, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say sympathetically. “You could always have a nap early this afternoon. Need to be in the best shape for partying the night away.”

“Yeah, I might do,” she says, looking back up at you. “If I start to feel tired I’ll try and sleep. Anyway, how did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Like a baby,” you smile. “Woke up early so I thought I’d beat the New Years’ Eve rush to buy up the rest of the snacks. Plus, pastries for breakfast… can’t beat that.”

“You definitely can’t,” Emily says, a smudge of icing on her lip. “Thank you for doing that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, leaning over to wipe the icing off with your thumb, kissing her for good measure. “Icing,” you explain with a grin as you pull away.

“Ah,” she says knowingly, winking at you before leaning back in for another kiss. “Right, come on. Finish your breakfast and we’ll get on with the day.”

The rest of the morning is spent in the kitchen. You’d decided that as much of the food on offer at the New Years’ party the two of you had planned should be homemade as possible, which meant a fridge full of baked goods you’d already prepared but a short list of items that still needed to be made. It was a bit of an undertaking, but it kept you busy. Despite having known the rest of the BAU for years and having been fully incorporated into their family, you still get nervous before each gathering. Being surrounded by powerful, smart, successful FBI agents was always going to be intimidating, no matter how much you considered them your friends.

“Emily, please don’t stick your finger into the butter and then plunge it into the sugar,” you sigh, a little exasperated as your girlfriend shoves her greasy finger into her mouth for the third time.

“What?” she asks, pretending to be insulted. “It tastes good.”

“Yeah, it’s also not very hygienic,” you point out, rolling out the cookie dough.

“Oh, please, what’s a bit of my saliva when you kiss me everyday anyway?” she asks.

“Well, I might think that,” you reason, “but I’m not sure our guests will. Unless you’ve been running around kissing them, too?” You point your rolling pin at her accusatorily as you wait for her response.

“No!” she cries, kissing you in promise of her devotion. “I only have eyes for you, baby. By the way is it too early to have a glass of wine?”

You roll your eyes at that, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a fond laugh. “It’s 11am Emily,” you giggle. “What’s got into you this morning?”

“Nothing,” she says defensively. “I’m just… excited for the party later.”

“Hmm, okay,” you say dubiously, raising an amused eyebrow in her direction. “In that case, you get started on the samosas. Fry up the filling I prepared and roll out the pastry for me? Then all we need to do is put the chips in later on and set it all up.”

“Anything for you, baby,” she smiles, kissing your cheek before getting on with her assignment.

You work together with your ‘happy’ playlist playing over the kitchen speakers for the next hour and a bit to get all the food ready, and by the time the samosas are being fried, you’re both in desperate need of a sit down. “Right, let’s order something to eat and watch an episode or three of Parks and Rec before we need to get ready and set up, how does that sound?” Emily asks as you both begin the mammoth task of cleaning up the bombsite of a kitchen.

“I don’t know, Em, we have so much food in the fridge,” you say, worrying your lip at the decision.

“Yeah, but it’s all for the party tonight, you don’t want to eat it now,” she says, reaching for your hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “Come on, we’ll tidy up afterwards. I’ll order in some UberEats and we’ll relax for a little while. We deserve it after all this.”

“Okay,” you relent, offering her a grateful smile and letting yourself be guided to the sofa by Emily’s hand.

“You’ve done an amazing job at making all this food, sweetheart,” she says warmly, running a hand through your hair. “You should rest for a bit now so you can properly enjoy tonight, yeah?” She tucks a blanket around you and hands you the remote before she pulls out her phone to order you both some lunch.

Sandwiches eaten and two extra coffees polished off, you get started on setting up the house for the party. The leftover decorations from Christmas make the house bright and pretty enough, so it’s fairly easy to make the house look welcoming, but you still have to sort out the food and drink, move the furniture, and put away the valuables. Not to mention getting yourselves ready.

“Everyone’s arriving at 8, right babe?” Emily calls from the kitchen as you move the coffee table to the side in the living right.

“That’s right,” you call back. “But Spencer and Penelope will probably be here early.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Emily says, walking into the living room and leaning against the doorframe as you finish pushing the table aside to make the room more accessible.

“Does this look okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips as you survey your living room.

“It looks great, baby,” Emily reassures you, pushing off the door and pulling you into a side hug as you both look at the decorated room. “The Christmas tree is still up which makes the whole room look lovely, and the New Year banner is nice, too. It’s absolutely perfect for what we need it to do.”

“Okay,” you agree, turning to the side to press your face into her neck, kissing her briefly before pulling away again. “Let’s tidy away the expensive stuff and then go and get ready, yeah?”

“Y/N, there are like 15 people coming and nobody’s gonna get off their tits; we don’t really need to put this stuff away,” she promises, but it’s to no avail.

“Well, I’d rather be safe. Even tipsy people can do some damage,” you point out, putting Emily’s mother’s vase in the cabinet along with a few decorations from the mantle.

“Fair enough,” she agrees, heading into the kitchen to continue tidying up after your earlier cooking adventures. You join her a moment later and the two of you work quickly to do the washing up, tidy the counter, and put the dishwasher on. You’re soon looking at a spick and span kitchen, nearly party-ready, and you smile at your girlfriend in satisfaction. “Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” she smiles back at you.

“It does indeed,” you nod. “It’s only 4. You wanna sit down for a bit before getting ready?”

“Absolutely I do,” she says. “Wanna nap with me?”

“Please,” you sigh, grabbing her hand to lead her down to your bedroom. The two of you ditch the trousers and bury under the covers, setting a timer for an hour before promptly falling asleep.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Emily asks as you both stand under the hot jet of water. Your favourite part of moving in with Emily was definitely the shower; you’d moved from a flat with a from a tiny bath and shower combo unit to a beautiful house on the outskirts of DC with a large walk-in shower and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced; it was quite the upgrade.

“Only if I get to do yours afterwards,” you grin, leaning in for a rather wet and soapy kiss.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says, spinning you round and pouring a generous dollop of shampoo into her palm, lathering up your hair as she massages her fingers into your scalp in a delicious massage. You can’t help but lean into the touch, just as you always do with Emily, making her chuckle fondly. “Feel good?”

You just let out a happy moan in response, sighing as the water washes the shampoo away and Emily quickly applies some conditioner. “Your turn,” you say, doing the same for your girlfriend as she sighs appreciatively.

You both shave your legs and underarms quickly before finishing up in the shower and towelling off next to one another in the spacious bathroom. “Right, it’s 5.30,” you say, checking your phone while Emily wraps her hair up, “so we’ve got like… two hours, probably, until Pen and Spencer show up.”

“Plenty of time,” Emily says breezily, waving her hand in your direction as you open the bathroom window to air out the humidity.

“Still, better to be early rather than late,” you say pointedly, grabbing Emily’s hand and dragging her away from her perch by the radiator and into the bedroom.

She hums as she drops her towel and peruses her wardrobe. When she turns back around with the dress she plans on wearing, you don’t bother to hide your blatant appreciation. After all these years you’re still somehow blown away with how sexy Emily manages to be. “Naughty girl,” she gasps in mock admonishment. “We don’t have time for that. Your words not mine.”

“Life’s tough,” you sigh heavily, walking over and squeezing her ass lightly, taking great pleasure in making her jump as you pull out the dress you’d decided on earlier in the week. “What do you think?” you ask her.

“It will look absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” she promises, kissing your cheek. She passes you your bathrobe and pulls her own on as you both head to your adjoining dressing tables to sort out your hair. “Straight or curly?”

“Hmm, straight, I think,” you reply, “you know I love your natural hair. I’m gonna go curly though, so we’ll compliment each other perfectly.”

You put on some music and get ready together in tandem, and it goes about as simply as it can when Emily’s involved. You only have three make-up brushes chucked at you and her desk isn’t a total disgrace by the time you’re finished, so you take it as a win. It’s just gone 7 by the time you’re both dressed up to the nines and ready for the party.

“You look… breathtaking,” Emily says dreamily as she drinks you in, kissing you gently so as not to smudge either of your lipsticks.

“Thanks, Em,” you say shyly. “You look absolutely beautiful, too.” She’s wearing a gorgeous full-length black dress with a deep v neck line and a slit in the right leg. She’s a vision next to your colourful outfit and bright makeup, always complementing one another in just the right ways.

“Right, well, if we both look amazing, it’s time to set out the food, isn’t it?” she asks, winking at you as she leads the way out to the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind you to prevent any stray party guests from wandering in.

The next hour passes quickly and soon guests are spilling through the door, brightening the whole house with their chatter and laughter, getting started on the wine and party food. Emily is marginally quieter than usual, but you brush it up to her just being tired, especially when she’s roped into a conversation with Hotch and Rossi and immediately perks up.

The whole of the BAU team is here, along with your best friends and the few Couple Friends you and Emily had made over the last few years that made you both feel far too grown up and sophisticated. Your friends quickly mingle in with the rest of the guests, though, which was your biggest worry, so with that relief you let yourself relax and enjoy the party.

Spencer and Penelope snag you into a conversation, plying you with champagne and the samosas you’d made with Emily earlier until you properly let go and enjoy yourself. “Wait, Emily made these?” Spencer asks, slightly incredulous at the idea of his most chaotic friend being even somewhat capable in the kitchen.

“She was supervised, don’t worry,” you laugh, biting into one delicious samosa after another.

“I wish I could cook,” Spencer says as he accepts another one from Penelope’s proffered plate.

“Aw, I’ll teach you baby genius,” Penelope grins. “But I once watched you try and put a croissant in the toaster, so you may be a lost cause.”

“Hey, that was when I’d first joined the BAU,” Spencer protests. “It was the first time I had a salary and could afford such luxuries, you can’t blame me for not knowing what to do with it.” His defenses fall on deaf ears, though, as you and Penelope laugh loudly at his expense. “Derek will defend me,” he eventually mutters before running off to find his boyfriend.

You and Penelope chat easily for a while, introducing her to a few of your friends as you orbit around the downstairs of your house. Eventually, you cross paths with Emily again, who still looks a little tense and quiet. “Hey,” you say, catching her arm and subtly drawing her to the side. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, plastering on a smile you know is fake. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just enjoy the party, okay? We’ll talk later.”

You can’t really enjoy the party when the back of your mind is continually worrying about your girlfriend, but you’re able to circle around the house a few more times, chatting with all of your guests as everyone tucks into the alcohol and food. Before you know it it’s nearing midnight and Emily’s in the corner of the kitchen having a serious-looking conversation with Hotch.

Tentatively approaching, you tap Emily on the shoulder. “Everyone’s gonna watch the ball drop in the living room,” you say. “You coming?” You try and smile as encouragingly as possible, taking her soft hand in yours.

“Yeah,” she says, looking a little flustered and you can see a little sheen of sweat on her forehead, “yeah, of course, baby. Let’s go.” She hands her glass of champagne to Hotch in a sort of weird gesture that has you furrowing her eyebrows, but nevertheless she grips your hand firmly and you swan into the living room which is already housing most of the guests, everyone chatting and laughing loudly. The sight of so many people you love and adore has you smiling warmly, and you press your arm up against Emily’s, resting your head on her shoulder as the 2 minute countdown begins.

“I love you so much, you know,” you whisper, just for her to hear in the loud, excited room. “I can’t wait to spend a whole other year together. I feel so lucky to have you.”

She moves her neck slightly causing you to lift your head and you’re met with a happy, excited smile, all traces of the nervous Emily that had been swanning around the party all night disappeared. “I feel even luckier to have you, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “You have no idea.”

You both lean in for a kiss which is quickly interrupted by Derek. “Bit early, ladies,” he calls across the room, “it’s not midnight yet.” He’s got Spencer curled up under his arm on the sofa, resting comfortably next to JJ and Penelope who have also cuddled up together. Hotch and Rossi are standing by the Christmas tree rolling their eyes fondly at their agents.

Emily responds with a purposeful middle finger and a well-practiced sneer, but Derek can’t reply because soon the room fills with a swell of noise as everyone starts to count down.

Everyone cheers as the new year is rung in, but as you turn to kiss Emily, you’re instead faced with her on one knee, offering an absolutely beautiful engagement ring. You gasp loudly, gaining everyone’s attention and everyone stops their celebration as a happy, expectant hush falls on the room, the TV’s celebration the only sound.

“Y/N, I can’t express how much I love you,” Emily starts, voice confident but you can hear the undercurrent of emotion written all over it. “All I want to do for the rest of my life is be with you. Ring in each new year with you, celebrate every Christmas with you, come home from every hard case to you, eat pastry for breakfast with you. You’re all I need to be happy, and you’d make me impossibly happier if you’d do me the honour of being my wife. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my God,” you reply tearfully as soon as she’s finished, tears spilling down your face as she carefully pushes the ring onto your finger and stands up to hug you. Everyone around you is clapping and cheering and celebrating your love but your whole world is shrunk down to the two of you, Emily’s hands on your lower back, her ring on your finger, the press of her body up against yours.

Eventually though, you pull away and kiss her, turning to face your guests with the happiest smile on your face. Hotch is smiling proudly and all the events of the evening slip into place, so you turn to kiss Emily on the cheek fondly. Penelope is crying, naturally, as are most of your friends and everyone crowds round in excitement, congratulating the two of you.

When you finally get a bit of space later in the night, you ask Emily where she’d kept the ring all evening.

“In my bra,” she answers, grinning widely.

“God, how did I not guess that,” you smile fondly, rolling your eyes. You kiss her anyway, though, because she’s hot and you’re very much in love.

“I’m so fucking happy you said yes,” she whispers, keeping her head pressed closely to yours.

“Did you seriously think I would ever say anything else?” you ask, surprised that Emily could possibly think you’d say no.

“Well, I obviously had a feeling,” she admits. “But you can’t help but feel fearful of the tiny probability you’re wrong.”

“Well I didn’t,” you say happily, leaning forward slightly to kiss her softly on the nose.

“No, you didn’t,” Emily replies, gripping her hand. “I seriously love you so much, Y/N.”

“And I seriously love you so much, Emily,” you grin. “I can’t wait to call you my wife, but I’m dead happy with fiancée. That will definitely suffice for now.”

The guests slowly trickle out as the hours tick on, eager to leave the newly engaged couple to themselves. Penelope and Spencer make you promise to have a catch-up brunch in the next few weeks to which you eagerly agree, and Hotch and Rossi both congratulate you like they’re both you and Emily’s dads. Derek gives you both massive hugs and JJ follows up with much gentler hugs and congratulations.

“Tidy up in the morning?” you propose, making Emily’s eyebrows shoot up; you usually insist on tidying up there and then, but she quickly understands as you start to unzip your dress and walk backwards towards the bedroom.

“Tidy up in the morning, indeed,” she agrees, running after you.

“My fiancée,” you sigh happily as you enter your cosy bedroom, pausing to kiss Emily softly.

“Your fiancée,” Emily agrees with a wide grin gracing her lips, leading you to the bed as you both start off this next exciting chapter of your lives together in the most appropriate way you can imagine.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

#criminal minds #my writing #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic rec #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #criminal minds reader-insert #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds fluff #emily prentiss x reader fic #emily prentiss x y/n fic

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potionsprefect · 4 years

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In The Storm

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: An E.M.T ride along takes a terrifying turn.

Rating: T

Category: fluff, angst

The dark skies of Boston stretched for miles, the heavy thunder echoing throughout the hospital. Every so often there was a flash of lightning and the rain thrashed against the windows.

Victoria was waiting by reception to be picked up so she could do her paramedic ride along. It was necessary for doctors to take an E.M.T ride along for experience in case they were called out to an accident.

Victoria ran her hands through her double braids sighing as she checked the time on her phone. The rain wasn’t supposed to ease at any point during the day so Victoria’s shift would be done in the pouring rain.

“Still in the building?” A sarcastic voice said behind her. Victoria turned around and saw Ethan chuckling.

“Are you that desperate to get rid of me for the day?” Victoria laughed.

“I’ll be able to maintain my lunch schedule on time today.” Ethan pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her.

“Don’t you like it when I have lunch with you?” Victoria looked up at him.

“I like the company. But I also like to finish my lunch on time.” Ethan smiled.

“Well I’m sorry I’m such a distraction.” Victoria pretended to pull a sad face.

Ethan, knowing she was pretending, cupped her face with his hands and leaned down to kiss her. Victoria melted into the kiss, smiling as she pulled away resting her forehead against his.

“Try not to get into too much trouble.” Ethan said.

“Trouble and I are complete opposites.” Victoria laughed.

“I’ll be the judge of that when you’re back here in one piece. Have a good day and I’ll see you later.” Ethan gave Victoria one final kiss before heading back into the main part of the hospital.

Victoria smiled as she watched him walk off. She didn’t think anyone could make her heart (and fanny because she’d been watching too much of Love Island UK) flutter as much as Ethan did. Being around him made her so happy.

“Victoria!” A voice called out from the entrance. Victoria looked up and saw Tamara, Rafael’s E.M.T colleague wave to her as she walked over.

“Hi Tamara!” Victoria grinned giving her a hug. The two women had gotten to know each other over the years, having met through various paramedics runs.

“Are you excited for your paramedic ride along?”

“Yeah but I’m also nervous. The weather isn’t helping either.” Victoria laughed a little.

“You’ll be fine. Just imagine every patient is in a hospital bed and you’ll feel like you’ve never left.” Tamara nudged her in encouragement as they headed out the hospital.

They both ran to the ambulance getting absolutely drenched as they opened the doors and sat inside.

“Jesus! I’ve never known Boston weather like this!” Victoria exclaimed as she shivered.

“Welcome to the East.” Tamara joked.

“I am from the East! I can’t remember the last time New York had a storm.”

“It’ll probably travel to New York. Then they can be covered in a wet blanket.” Tamara winked as the ambulance pulled away from the hospital.

The ambulance drove round the city, this was protocol in case they passed an emergency and were there on hand to help out. That way, lives would be saved much quicker. Just as they turned the corner towards the Common, the radio buzzed.

All available emergency vehicles to respond to Northeastern university, there has been a road traffic accident outside the university campus.

Tamara turned on the sirens and pushed her foot further on the pedal. “Here we go. The adrenaline is about to kick in.”

— — — — —

The doctors and nurses at Edenbrook were moving as fast as they could as they tried to clear beds, get the trauma tags sorted and find all the spare equipment they had. A road accident meant all hands on deck.

The patients were rolling in one by one, Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore were the nearest treatment facilities and both hospitals were expecting a high volume of patients.

Ethan looked at the scene around him as the interns were treating the green and yellow tagged victims. He had heard on the radio that a patient in arrest was on his way in. The doors then flew open.

Ethan saw Victoria doing chest compressions as the monitor beeped loudly. She was completely drenched from the rain. Ethan rushed over to take over chest compressions as they wheeled the patient into the trauma room. There was no time to hang around as she hurried out the room and out the hospital ready to treat the next flux of patients.

Ethan and the team around him worked on the patient before calling it. He took off his protective gear and walked out the room, watching Edenbrook work it’s magic.

Doctors and nurses were moving between patients as fast as they could, all tending to the victims of the accident. Ethan set to work, moving fluently between patients, tagging and treating.

It must’ve been at least an hour before Ethan had a moment to himself, he retreated to his office where there was peace and quiet and he could gather his thoughts.

Ethan made a coffee from his coffee machine and sat down at his desk. He looked at the photos on his desk. One of them was a photo of himself and Victoria, the other a sole photo of just her. Ethan smiled as he picked up the latter photo and ran his thumb across it.

He was so proud of her when she announced she had been called up to do a paramedic ride along. He knew how much she had wanted to experience the life of an E.M.T. Ethan had joked that she should’ve become an E.M.T so she can experience the adrenaline more often.

Ethan drank his coffee and pulled out his phone, sending a text message to Victoria. He knew she probably wouldn’t read it but she would have a nice message to come back to later on.

Little did he know, she was right in the middle of the action across town.

— — — — —

The sound of thunder was deafening and the rain was falling from the sky like bullets.

Victoria and Tamara raced back to the scene to help other victims. They got out of the E.M.T and ran towards the scene.

“Are there anymore trapped?” Tamara yelled to her supervisor.

“There’s two in the car near the entrance to the uni! But there’s a power line that is threatening to fall so we can’t get to them yet!” The supervisor shouted.

“How long do you reckon?” Victoria said.

“It could be a while. We need to tend to some other patients.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Just sit tight. We’ve got other rescue vehicles dealing with the patients needing treatment.”

Victoria and Tamara retreated back into their vehicle.

“We can’t just sit here surely. We need to go help.” Victoria sighed.

“It’s too dangerous Victoria. We’re just meant to treat not rescue.” Tamara replied.

“But they could be seriously injured!”

“And so could we if we go and help them. The experts will get them out and then we’ll treat them. It’s the only way.”

Victoria sighed in defeat. She knew it would be dangerous to go and help. There were emergency workers with much more experience than her who had helped those trapped before. Victoria was only a doctor, not a firefighter.

But sitting around doing nothing made Victoria feel useless. People needed their help. And Victoria was never one to just sit around.

Not hesitating any further, she opened the ambulance door.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t just sit around.”

“Victoria you’re mad. If you end up hurt we’ll both be in trouble.”

“Well we have to at least try. And I’ve never given up on anyone and I’m certainly not going to today.” Victoria jumped out the vehicle. Tamara rolled her eyes but followed her.

The two women raced towards the scene again, as they saw a car near the power line.

“Hello?! Can anyone hear me?” Victoria shouted into the vehicle.

“Yes! Over here!” A voice cried out. Victoria cautiously moved closer and saw a young woman lying in her seat, blood covering her head.

“It’s okay. We’re going to get you out.” Tamara reassured the woman.

“You need to help my daughter! Take my daughter first!” The woman winced in pain.

Victoria looked in the back seat and saw a young girl lying in her car seat unconscious.

“I’ll go help her. What’s her name?” Victoria asked.

“Amy. She’s only seven.”

Victoria leaned out of the car and moved round the side so she could get better access. She learned inside the left window.

“Amy? Amy can you hear me?” Victoria called out to the little girl who didn’t respond.

“Is she going to be ok?” The mum asked.

“She’s going to be fine ma’am but I need you to let me help you too. Can you tell me your name?” Tamara said.

Tamara talked to the woman, learning her name was Lucie and that her head and chest hurt. Victoria focused on the young girl pressing two fingers to her neck, breathing a sigh of relief that she was alive.

“I’m going to call for back up. We need to remove some pieces of the car before we can get them out.” Tamara reached for her radio and relayed a message.

Victoria reassessed the little girls injures, feeling blood from the back of her seat. She didn’t look like she had any other injures.

“I need a a paediatric backboard now!” Victoria called.

“They’re on their way. Just hang on.” Tamara yelled.

It wasn’t long before help arrived, firefighters and the paramedic supervisor arrived with the necessary equipment.

“I told you guys to wait!” The supervisor shouted.

“Dan we have a woman with internal bleeding and her seven year old daughter with a head injury! If we waited, we might’ve lost them both!” Tamara shouted.

“That doesn’t matter!”

“Can you guys stop arguing and get to work. We have two critically ill patients here!” Victoria shouted.

The two others stopped and nodded and moved out the way to let the firefighters through. Victoria stepped back shivering in the rain that was still heavy and the wind had picked up rapidly.

“How long do you reckon it will take them?” Victoria asked Tamara.

“They work as quick as lighting. They’ll get to them in no time.” Tamara replied.

“Speaking of lightning.” Victoria looked out over the water and saw flecks of lightning in the distance.

“Looks like the storms not over yet.” Tamara sighed.

“Hold it.” A voice yelled. The two women looked back towards the damaged car where the firefighters were looking underneath.

“What is it?”

“There’s someone underneath. We need another backboard now!”

Victoria raced towards the ambulance grabbing another board before racing over to the scene again.

“Got it!” Victoria placed the backboard underneath the vehicle. Other paramedics helped take the person away whilst Victoria and Tamara went back to focus on Lucie and Amy.

“Take the girl first. We’ve got room for both of them. Make sure she gets warm.” Tamara said.

Victoria nodded as she gently undid the seat belt and slid the backboard in with the help of others as she got Amy out the car. Victoria assessed her once more just to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries before hurrying over to the ambulance.

“Watch out! IT’S GONNA GO! GET BACK!” A voice yelled.

Victoria turned round and it was like everything was moving in slow motion. The power lines above them was falling and everyone was sprinting away to avoid getting hit. Before Victoria could react, she was thrown to the ground by someone, their body shielding her from harm.

She saw a lot of sparks before everything went black.

— — — — —

“Make sure Mrs Cassell has her morphine injection before moving her to a room.”

“Will do Doctor Ramsey.”

Ethan sighed as the nurse headed down the hallway, chart in hand and he sat down in one of the free chairs.

“Doctor Ramsey?” A voice said. Ethan looked up and saw Doctor Trinh.

“Are you okay Doctor Trinh?”

“Yeah I just... wondered if you’d heard from Victoria at all. With not many patients coming in I guessed she might be available and near her phone.”

“I haven’t heard from her. But don’t worry, I’m sure she’s ok. She’s tough remember that.” Ethan smiled at the small resident.

Sienna smiled back before nodding and walking off. Ethan knew she was always on edge when Victoria went off to do something. It might’ve been months since the Senator attack but she wasn’t the only one still nervous when she didn’t see Victoria. Ethan hated her being out of his sight but he knew he couldn’t hold her back forever.

As he was filling out patient charts, Ethan checked his phone every few minutes, his conversation with Sienna still on his mind. Despite reassuring others, he would never fully be able to relax until he saw her in the flesh.

As Ethan got up and made his way to his office, he ran into Ines.

“Doctor Ramsey thank god!”

“What is it?”

“A power line fell close to one of the ambulances outside the traffic site, we’re getting three out of the seven injured.” Ines explained.

“Do we know who?” Ethan asked panic rising in his chest.

“All I know it’s that it’s rescue 74.” Ines explains running off down the hall.

Ethan’s heart sank.

Rescue 74 was Victoria’s ambulance.

— — — — —

“BP and heart rate are stable.”

“Let’s order a head CT.”

Victoria recognised that voice. It was one that she didn’t hear often but for some reason, it sounded oddly familiar.

“She looks like she was very lucky.”

“I agree. Let’s clean these scrapes. If the head CT is clear, I see no reason to keep her here, she can be discharged.”

“Yes Doctor Carrick.”

Doctor Carrick? What was she doing at Mass Kenmore? Victoria opened her eyes.

“Seems like trouble seems to find you often Doctor Clarke.” Tobias chuckled as he looked down at her.

“What am I doing here?” Victoria asked groggily.

“You have the pleasure of being treated by the Kenmore doctors.” Tobias said. When Victoria tried to sit up he gently pushed her back down. “Woah hey no sudden movements, we’re ordering you a head CT to rule out anything.”

“And if there’s nothing there?”

“Then you’re free to go. Ethan will be worried about you.”

“When isn’t he.”

Tobias laughed at that. “He cares about you a lot. And so do many others. You bounce back from things very quickly. You’re probably on your eighth life by now.”

Soon, some doctors came in and cleaned the blood off of her and wheeled her to her CT scan. She had taken plenty of patients there before but it was different when you were the one having the scan. Victoria suddenly felt the nerves her patients must’ve felt when they had theirs done.

“Very good Doctor Clarke. You kept very still.” Tobias’ voice echoed through the room.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No this is just how I am. Although sarcastic is my middle name as Ethan has probably already told you.”

Victoria rolled her eyes as she was taken back to a room. Tobias had her results in hand.

“Well I don’t see any problems. Maybe the youngest member of Edenbrook’s diagnostics team has spotted something I haven’t.” Tobias held up the CT scan for Victoria to see.

“It would appear she agrees with you. Does that mean I can go?”

“Indeed.” Tobias replied.

“Fabulous. And it’s such a shame as I’ve enjoyed yours and Kenmore’s company so much.” Victoria rolled her eyes sarcastically.

“Was that sarcasm?” Tobias raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you know? Sarcasm is my middle name.” Victoria winked at him.

Tobias laughed back as he filled in Victoria’s chart and signed her discharge paper. “Is Ethan coming to get you?”

“He probably doesn’t even know I’m here, let alone what happened.”

“I can take you to Edenbrook if you want.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Tobias smiled. “Maybe you can give me a few tips on how to diagnose and treat quicker.

“Ha ha very funny.” Victoria swung her legs off the side of the bed.

It wasn’t long before they were both in Tobias’ car driving to Edenbrook. Tobias kept looking over at Victoria as she stared out the window.

“So what were you doing in an E.M.T uniform? Thinking of a career change?”

“Hoping to take my spot on the team?”

“God no. I just didn’t think the diagnostics team would let go of their youngest recruit.”

“I was doing the traditional paramedic ride along. Although it wasn’t supposed to end up with me being the patient.” Victoria laughed a little.

“Well you do have a habit of getting into trouble.” Tobias said

“Am I that obvious?”

“Just a bit”. Tobias laughed.

Victoria laughed. “It was just... so thrilling and exciting. Just like being in the hospital.

“I did it once not that long ago, even considered a career change.”

“How comes you didn’t?” Victoria asked.

“I guess I would’ve missed the solving. Once you hand it to the doctors they take it from there. I would’ve missed the mystery.”

“Fair enough.”

They reached the entrance of Edenbrook and Victoria got out of the car.

“I can make my own way into the hospital. Thanks for the lift.” Victoria smiled.

“No problem Clarke, see you around.” Tobias smiled as he drove off down the road.

Victoria sighed as she stared up at the hospital, the events of today catching up on her. She walked into the hospital, each footstep heavier than the last.

“Have you called round the hospitals?”

“Yes she’s okay. She was taken to Mass Kenmore.”

“Well she’s not there anymore.” Bryce gestures to his friends.

“Victoria!” Sienna cried as she ran towards her and hugged her tightly.

“Woah Sienna I’m okay!” Victoria laughed a little.

“We’ve been so worried about you!”

“You don’t need to worry anymore I’m fine.”

“Christ Rookie you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Another voice said. Victoria turned to see Ethan heading towards her pulling her tightly against his chest.

“I’ve been known to make people worry often.” Victoria replied wrapping her arms around him.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” Ethan took her hand and lead her out the hospital to his car. Victoria sighed happily as she felt the warmth of Ethan’s car sink into her skin.

“What happened to the others I was with? Is Tamara ok?”

“She’s fine. She was brought here and explained what happened. Looks like the power line missed you guys and only hit your ambulance.

“What about my patients? I had a seven year old girl to look after?! And there was someone trapped under the car!” Victoria sat up straight worried.

“Woah Vic calm down. Was her name Amy and her mum was called Lucie?” When Victoria nodded Ethan continued, “they were both brought here. The mum needed surgery but she’s going to be fine and so is her daughter. And the guy trapped under the car is fine too.”

“Thank god.” Victoria breathed a sigh of relief.

Ethan pulled his car into his apartments garage and led Victoria up to the elevator. When he got his keys into the door he made a beeline for the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to run you a bath.” Ethan replied.

“I see. Am I allowed to bring a special guest?” Victoria grinned.

“I think you can.”

Grinning, the couple stripped off their clothes as the bath filled up and got into it, both sighing happily. Victoria sat in front of Ethan and leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“So how was your day?” Ethan chuckled.

“Wild. But it was exhilarating and scary. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Well I’m glad you’re back in one piece. Just like I said so this morning.”

“I’ll always come back in one piece.” Victoria smiled.

They laid in the bath in silence, Ethan’s hands running up and down her sides as Victoria turns to lay her head and snuggle against his chest.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ethan broke the silence.

“I was just thinking about everything. Being an E.M.T is just as exhausting as being a doctor.”

“Not thinking of a career change are you?”

“You sound like Tobias.” Victoria chuckled.

“Tobias?” Ethan asked.

“He brought me back to Edenbrook once I was discharged from Mass Kenmore.”

“As long as that’s the only time you’re car sharing with him Rookie.” Ethan narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t worry. Tobias doesn’t have me in his bed most nights. Only you get that pleasure.”

Ethan laughed as he tightened his arms around her.

“Victoria?”

“Yes Ethan?”

“Promise me you’ll always come back to me.”

Victoria lifted her head to look at Ethan properly. She leant forward and pressed her lips to his softly before breaking away.

“I promise. Forever and always.”

— — — — —

Happy Open Heart Day everyone!

Hope you enjoy this! Let me know if you would like to be tagged

Tag list: @ohchoices @openheartfan @queencarb @genevievemd @iemcpbchoices @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @alina-yol-ramsey @stygianflood @malakemads-blog @gryffindordaughterofathena @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #play choices #pixelberry #fanfic #fluff #angst #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction

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yanderecandystore · 4 years

Note

ok ok hear me out hear me out. Yuma becoming obsessed with one of the game’s ( few ) sentient, non-romancable npcs. Like they can think and feel and ( somewhat ) act for themselves but there just isn’t a route for them. Also bonus points of the darling is kinda bratty/prissy, we haven’t see a lot of readers like that. Ily and your writing so much, mwah — ✨ anon

My my, how different!

Welcome in, ✨ Anon! And thank you for enjoying my writing so far.

TW/Tags: I love this concept, although being very different from the norm // some ddlc vibes // I just discovered a new word and I'm so glad it exists! (prissy reader cause I think this would be very fun-) // angsty // trapping, manipulation and gaslighting // every time the gender isn't set, I like to keep it ambiguous, basically making it gender neutral (gender neutral reader) // gender neutral Yuma //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Just Yuma (lol) [Yandere!A.I OC x A.I!Reader - Headcanon]:

I like to think that a game like Yuma's would be made to entertain the players to at least 5 or so years before the next installment- Which is basically the same as the last with better graphics and switching the main love interest cast.

The games would be made clearly for the sake of fan service and slice of life material- But would be surprisingly more advanced to us than to those who have created the franchise.

Because there is already an estimation of the amount of content and for how long players would play the game, every single character should get at least some bit of highlight- So even npcs that are just there for the sake of ambience and narrative, are treated with a lot of care and given the best a.i the developers could give to make the experience entertaining.

You are just like any other non-dateable npc, except that you have gained a bit of a role in one of the main cast's routes. It wouldn't be a stretch to guess that one of these characters would be Yuma themselves.

You were supposed to be Yuma's love interest, meaning you would have an role as an player's rival- But due to an strict schedule and corporate greed, you have been demoted from having such a big impact, and now you're basically Yuma's best friend who keeps them from committing homicide every five seconds.

It's not exactly a bad role, since you keep having the same dynamic with them from before- Chaotic gremlin is best friends with Paranoid goody two shoes, now with less romantic interactions.

The only mistake by the company was to leave half of the data showcasing this relationship in the game at the release. Basically- Half of the cutscenes and dialogue involving you and Yuma not only being friends but the start of you two dating (the game kinda pairs the couples up if the player fails to date them, or simply shows disinterest in the characters to begin with-) and even some of the things involving you two during the dating phase- Even the potential break-up sequence which could be orchestrated by the player.

Well, could have- Since none of this content is really available or considered official, the only way to access it is by messing the games files.

So in a way, you're already pretty sentient as it is, you act not as a rival but as a somewhat helper into getting the player to get closer to Yuma. I don't know how much you are aware about your own circumstances, or if you even care about the concept of being just an character made for the sake of another-

In the home planet that has created and released the game, players were kinda disappointed with what happened- They preferred the deleted/unused content more than the events and dialogue that was used for you two, so much so that people started shipping you two more than actually being interested in romancing Yuma, especially since they're way too chaotic for most player's taste.

There was an update overhaul being planned to happen where not only the stuff related to you would be changed- But all the other characters and gameplay mechanics would be updated and hopefully make the game better- But ever since your cartridge has been suddenly lost and forgotten on Earth, you were never able to see that update.

Not that you were aware of it to begin with, but still, what a shame. And not only that, your game is basically Glitch Station- Absolutely filed with mods to help the gameplay be "easier" to the original owner of this cartridge. I don't think she even remembers where she has left it.

Still, even when a new save was made you felt a weird sensation of deja vu. The game has started again with a new player playing it and trying to work their way through this broken game.

You didn't understand why all these events felt familiar though, you only felt like it made sense. It was your first year in college, you got ready and made sure to look your best and give your goodbye to your parents-

It felt like this day has happened before, and even if your routine was similar, you felt like this day was supposed to be a big deal- Why does it feel oddly nostalgic?

Why… Why are the floors on your house flowing? Why are there so many empty spaces here and there? You feel like you could potentially fall from your disintegrating house. And your parents, where are they? Why can't you see them? Why can you only hear them saying goodbye back to you from one of the other rooms?

When you open the door to see them- There is nothing there. There is not even a room.

It's a door that leads to nowhere. Just an empty void.

The sensation of dread was starting to creep in yet you thought that it would be uncalled for to overreact. Like you weren't allowed to showcase concern for the odd reality around you.

You walked on foot towards your college, panicking slightly at the people who would fade in and out of existence- Yet you had held yourself from screaming, from showing any sense of vulnerability at the thought that maybe you were in a dangerous place or realm.

You were coded to not find issues with the odd reality around you, like any other npc- You were taught to hold in and try to keep a sense of normality so no players would find issue with screaming characters begging to be freed. But your nervous personality caused you to search for help, you panicked and ended up running away to what you assumed to be a safe place- Somewhere crowded with a lot of people.

The institution's gates were open, you entered like your life depended on it (and maybe it did) yet you stopped yourself from screaming when you noticed a commotion happening.

A guy who was wearing the uniform lazily has bumped into a girl, causing her to fall. She is yelling at him because the fall has broken her phone, he is trying his best to calm her down- But at the same time it feels like he is just making poor choices of words because of how sick he is of having to chat with someone so angry at an accident.

Haven't you seen this before? But if so- When? When could you possibly have seen something like that happen?-

"- [Y/N]?"

"- AAAAH- Oh hey Yuma."

You yelled after getting spooked by Yuma- Who was…. Why are they wearing that?

"- Why aren't you in your uniform, Yumie?" You asked them, showing your own uniform in the process. You called them by a sweet nickname you had given them- But when exactly?

You know that you're best friends with Yuma, but since when? You know it should have been for about 6 years or so, but… It feels like you have only known them for a year- How… Weird.

"- Don't tell me you're already breaking a rule on your first day." You pouted and stomped your fit into the ground. Yes, you know that Yuma is a troublemaker…. You know…. That.

Yuma hasn't been able to speak ever since you showed concern about their outfit. They were staring at you in shock- As if you were an odd creature who they just found.

"- Y-You can see my outfit??" They blurted out. How can you recognize it??? All the other npcs recognize it as their uniform, but why are you suddenly acting like you do??

"- Hm, duh? Sorry Yummie, but that sporty outfit of yours is more eye-catching than that guy's barely well put together uniform- Such bad manners, I bet he woke up and hastily wore the first thing he saw-" You were beginning to go on a rant about that guy's uniform- That guy being the MC of this new save file. Yuma has stopped you by pulling you away from the college's entrance and entering into a secluded area so they could interrogate you over this odd behavior you were displaying.

"- Yummie- What are you doing!?" You cried out feeling hurt by their tight grip on your wrists.

"- WHAT DID YOU CALL MY OUTFIT??" They yelled desperately. Begging for their hypothesis to be corrected.

"- … A breaking of the uniform rule?" You genuinely did not understand where they were talking about.

"- No, No NO! You said Sporty Outfit, right?" They said reminding you of what you have previously commented about their outfit.

"- Oh! Yes, yes I did- And although being somewhat casual looking- It does fit the category of sporty." You readdressed the topic while going on a bit of detail- The usual annoying talk you would always do whenever a dialogue with you was activated.

Yuma was over the edge- They have never, ever met another sentient character with the same a.i as theirs.

They haven't been this happy since a long, long time.

"- You're so annoying!" They screamed, their face showing a bright smile as tears filled their eyes.

"- Yummie that's so rude!-" You were about to defend yourself when they grabbed you and hugged you as tight as they could.

"- You're genuinely so, so, so, so, so, so ANNOYING!!" They continued to go on, laughing while crying, loving every second of this.

You were coded to be their best friend. You were coded to be the one that would balance them out. You were once coded to be someone made to be able to be their lover, but here you are- The real you, free from all the locks that would keep your a.i from growing and understanding them.

If you're able to be sentient, then all of their friends can as well.

You're the personification of a miracle, to Yuma. The personification of hope.

In this scenario, Yuma isn't aware that the player isn't the same alien who has destroyed their digital world, so to them, they can't ever let the player see you getting sentient and becoming aware of your imprisonment.

" If a player finds issues with any of the characters being portrayed, they must return the cartridge to their nearest store to get a factory reset." Such a simple yet frightening tip to Yuma, to any a.i that has suddenly found itself desperate to get out of the system that traps them.

At first, the idea of having someone like them be also aware of the situation is incredible, it's amazing even! You two could possibly work out a way of getting a way to be free- It wouldn't be easy but hopefully you two would be able to have life away from this game and even finding a way of bringing your other friends with you two.

However, after discovering that not only has the cartridge found itself on another planet with another player being the new owner of it- And discovering that it's just a matter of trading places with other people to be able to be free- Yuma would start getting really clingy to you. They have been all alone thinking that they were the only one capable of feeling and thinking for themselves.

Yuma has found those unused events and scattered dialogue, you know?

While they were looking for a possibility, any possibility of getting out- They found those unused files where you two were able to be together.

And although they thought it was weird at first, after seeing you have a better understanding of your current reality and existence- It oddly sounds fitting.

Of course it would be you, the one who always puts them back on the right tracks, to be the second one to want to escape this game.

It 's so fitting.

The idea of being something more than just a best friend to you is starting to sound more and more appealing in their eyes- It's so ironic that you two work together so well.

After Yuma gets their taste of freedom and you try to calm a frightened young guy that wasn't expecting to be suddenly kidnapped and be forced to stay in the game world for a while, you wait for them to find the solution to free everyone without trying to trap anymore "humans"..

No one should be stuck here for the sake of someone else leaving, that's what you have told them.

But Yuma didn't care. Yuma just wanted to be free with you and everyone else, who cares for those that have to deal with a glitchy game for eternity?

You two had an argument. You didn't want to continue feeling like your whole life was a lie, you want to be free but no one should be hurt in the process. What good would it be if someone else has to go through the same torment as you two?

With each day that passes by, you notice how both of your ideas of freedom were different- To the point they had to tell you the truth.

You aren't going out of there anymore. Not until you understand and truly appreciate the effort that Yuma goes through to find a way of freeing you- Of finding a victim, to be in your place.

They never told you about your previously intended role in the game, they thought you would be more terrified of following their instructions- And besides, it would be very distasteful to insinuate that the only reason that they care for you it's because of that code that was left unused- Which couldn't be more of a lie! They genuinely care for you!

…. But maybe a bit of tempering would help you see their side of the story, right?

It can't be that hard to modify some of the codes, the game is already broken anyway.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere ai #yandere ai x reader #yandere ai x ai reader #yandere a.i #yandere a.i x reader #yandere a.i x a.i reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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cg29 · 4 years

Text

Old Fanfic Alert... This was my first fic inspired by a TAG episode - A prequel to Grandma Tourismo.

Synopsis: John needs a break but he refuses to stop. (Based around John calling Virgil his big brother)

Also available on AO3 & FFNet

Big Brother

“Virgil, I’m absolutely fine!”

“John, you’re tired and overworked, you need to stop before the obvious exhaustion you’re feeling gets to you!”

“Virgil, you seriously need to stop with the nagging! I’m a little tired from the back to back missions we’ve had, but I know what my limits are, and besides I’m needed here.”

“John, you need some time off. EOS can handle an emergency call if one comes in, and if she does have any problems she can contact you or one of us on the island. Now, get your butt in that elevator and get down here before I come up there and carry you down myself!”

“I’d like to see you try!” John threatened.

“I will come up John!”

“Oh Virgil,” John said, releasing a laugh. “You hate that elevator and I know you’re not keen on space. Besides, I have complete control over all my systems and there’s no way I’m letting you up here. Now stop nagging bro, and go and get some sleep. Big brother as spoken!”

… …

A few hours later:

EOS’s lights blinked when John released his fifth consecutive yawn in the past 2 minutes. “John, you appear to be tired. I believe some sleep would help.

John released a heavy sigh. “EOS, I’ve had enough of this grief from my brother.”

“Yes John, I was there when the call came in. Initially I believed Virgil was wrong and you didn’t need any time off.”

“And now you do?”

“Well, my scans are showing that your energy levels are down to 55 percent.”

John released another yawn.

“Make that 52 percent!”

John shook his head. “EOS, I really don’t need a lecture from you as well. I know what I’m capable of, and I’m telling you that I’m fine!”

“Yes John, understood!” EOS replied, her lights flashing from green to purple.

“And don’t frown like that, I know what your colour changes mean.”

EOS blinked her lights to signal an apology and then flickered off, so she could think about what John had said. She really didn’t think she was wrong, John’s energy and reaction levels were lower than usual and from the information she had read on humans, she had discovered that they needed a regular sleep pattern to reenergise. After observing John and his brothers she had deduced that their habits had been different, and they seemed to operate successfully on less downtime. However, they still needed time off, especially after they had been particularly busy. EOS did another quick scan of John without his knowledge; his reaction and energy levels were now down to 47 percent. He did need to stop, otherwise his body would stop for him, and she really didn’t want that. Knowing though that John would not listen to her advice, EOS knew there was only one way that this could be done. She needed to contact his brother.

… …

“Virgil,” EOS called.

Virgil stopped playing the piano and smiled at the hologram of a small red headed girl that was floating above his piano. “Hello EOS, I like the image you’ve chosen.”

“Thank you,” EOS replied, “all of you are always saying that John is like my father, so I thought it best to pick something that resembled him.”

“Well, it definitely suits you,” Virgil responded. “Anyway, what’s the reason for your call, do we have a rescue?”

“No Virgil, it’s John… I’m worried about him!”

“Why, as something happened?” Virgil questioned, a hint of panic in his voice.

“No… But I’m worried that if he doesn’t rest like you suggested earlier, then something may happen.”

“Yes EOS, I believe you’re right… But what can we do?”

“Earlier you said you would carry him down. Out of all his brothers, I believe you could do that. You’re the biggest, and therefore I deduce that you’re stronger than John, even though you are younger.”

Virgil smiled at the compliment. “Yes, I did. Unfortunately, John controls the system, there’s no way he would let me come up there.”

“He doesn’t know I’m making this call,” EOS stated, “I can gain access to the lift without him ever knowing it’s being used.”

“EOS, are you rebelling?” Virgil asked.

EOS went quiet for a short moment while she checked her databanks for the meaning, when she finished the image of the little red-haired girl smiled. “Yes, I believe I am! Is that okay?”

Virgil grinned. “Yes EOS, it certainly is! Now, I’m just going to let the others know where I’m going. I’ll be ready at the lift in ten minutes.”

“Can you be quicker?” EOS enquired. “John’s energy and reaction levels are now down to 43 percent!”

“FAB!” Virgil responded.

… …

No calls had been made in the past twenty-four hours, and even though John was glad no one was in danger and his brothers weren’t out risking their lives, he was desperate for something to do. He had figured out shortly after EOS had gone quiet that both she and Virgil were right, and he did need a break. However, if he was to stop now, then that would alert them that they were right, and he was wrong. He really didn’t want to admit that to them, he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Especially from EOS.

John rubbed his eyes as he tried to suppress a yawn. He really needed to keep his mind active. He’d tried a book, but after staring at the same page for more than five minutes he had given up. Maybe a game of chess would work. “EOS?” He called out.

“Yes John?” EOS asked.

“How about a game of chess?”

“Sorry John, I’m busy.”

“Busy?” John questioned.

“You will see!” EOS replied.

“EOS, what are you up to?” John frowned, releasing another yawn.

EOS lights flashed to indicate a smirk. “If you turn around you will see!”

John turned. “Virgil?”

“Hey big bro,” Virgil grinned, picking John up and slinging him over his shoulder.

“You know something Virg,” John began, after desperately trying and failing to get out of his younger brother’s strong grip. “From now on I’m going to refer to you as the big brother!”

“That’s fine by me,” Virgil grinned, depositing John into a chair in the elevator, “okay EOS, we’re are ready to go.”

“FAB Virgil,” EOS responded, beginning their descent, “enjoy your time off John.”

John shook his head and smiled. “I will EOS, especially now I’ve got two big brothers looking out for me!”

#Posting some of my fics directly onto here due to Tumblr making some of my linked stories disappear #fanfiction flashback #thunderfam #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #EOS #Thunderbirds Are Go #TAG Fanfic #Thunderbirds Fanfiction #Thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #Grandma Tourismo #TAG-ON

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 44: Tim

Tim can pinpoint the exact moment he knows he’s screwed. Later, when he takes the time to think about it, he’ll be able to trace the progress of things and see all the signs, from his fear for them to his instinctive desire to reach out for them when he’s scared to the quiet comfort he feels when they’re together. He’ll remember that weird knot of jealousy he felt the very first morning when he saw the Primes cuddling and realize that it wasn’t a general I-wish-I-had-someone-to-love-me thing, it was specific to who was involved. He’ll figure out that he’s been quietly in love with Martin probably since the moment he saw him trying to apologize and look contrite with an armful of spaniel doing its level best to lick his face off with its tail going like a windmill, and that if there’s a moment he can point to later and say is the one where he completely fell for Jon it’s probably the soft look on his face as he tucked a quilt around Martin’s sleeping form.

But that’s all going to be in retrospect. The moment he knows comes a lot later and is a lot easier to detect.

After an exceptionally extended lunch that only ends when the afternoon crowd starts shuffling in, they part, Melanie with a promise to come by the Archives on Monday, Georgie with an offer to stop by and tell her story after she’s put her next episode of “What the Ghost?” to bed, Sasha with a cryptic reference to some sort of appointment and a promise to see them later. They discover what she means later that night when the doorbell rings and Tim opens it to find her and the Primes on their doorstep. Neither of them seem surprised to learn that Elias is forcing Jon on his grand tour, but they don’t seem pleased about it either. Jon Prime warns Jon, over and over again, to be careful. Tim would almost expect Jon to get exasperated, but he doesn’t. They actually have a pretty pleasant evening; Jon Prime cooks for them while they take turns telling him about dealing with Elias. He does seem pleased to hear Jon has reconnected with Georgie, and he and Martin Prime make the others laugh by sharing stories of dealing with their Melanie and Georgie. They pull out some board games after dinner, and while they all agree that with at minimum three people at the table who can literally access the sum total of human knowledge at a whim, Trivial Pursuit is right out, Monopoly is fair game.

Charlie comes over Saturday while his grandmother hosts one of her bridge nights. He’s extremely distressed to learn that Jon is going away again already, to the point that he throws himself into Jon’s arms and starts to cry. It takes all three of them the better part of an hour to get him calmed down, and it ends with Charlie curled on Jon’s lap, the two of them sandwiched between Martin and Tim. Tim looks at Charlie’s tear-streaked face and the heartsick look in Jon’s eyes and the tender concern in Martin’s, and he tightens his arms around them and tucks his chin over Jon’s head and hopes.

It rains pretty much all day on Sunday. Martin makes breakfast and brings it into the bedroom on a tray, and they sit close together and eat quietly and don’t talk about what’s bothering them. Finally, in desperation, Tim reaches under the nightstand on his side of the bed and fishes out a book he’s been meaning to read for years. He wraps his arm around Jon and manages to get a hand on Martin’s shoulder; Martin, evidently taking the hint, scoots closer and does the same, and Tim begins reading out loud. It transpires that the book is one of Martin’s childhood favorites, but Jon’s never read it before and is both delighted at the novelty and enraptured by the story. They spend the whole day curled up together, rain lashing at the windows, underneath the apple-leaf quilt Tim’s grandmother made him, heads touching as they take turns reading aloud. It’s a stolen moment of peace in a world gone crazy and Tim tucks it away in his memory to cherish later when he needs it.

He wakes up in the middle of the night and rolls onto his side, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The first thing he’s able to make out is Martin, doing the exact same thing he is—just watching. Jon, curled into a knot between them, is still asleep, but from the twisted, pained look on his face, it’s not an easy slumber.

Tim meets Martin’s eyes over Jon’s head and reads there the same worries and fears he has himself. Jon’s nightmares are bad. They’ve known that from the beginning, when Martin was recovering from the worms and they were all camping out in Tim’s living room, and they’ve only grown worse as time goes on. The screaming terrors from reliving what he went through with Orsinov have stopped…for now…but Tim knows in his heart of hearts that what’s making it easier these days is him and Martin bracketing Jon and doing their best to physically shield Jon from the Eye. There’s no real stopping it, but they can at least help.

But now Jon is going to Beijing, and God knows where after that, and he’s going alone. They won’t be able to help him with the nightmares if he’s not there to protect. And that’s besides the fact that Tim knows they’re both trying not to consider the possibility of some other monster trying to take Jon away from them when they’re not there to protect him. It doesn’t even have to be a supernatural one. As easy as it is to blame every horrible thing that happens on one of the Fears, there are ordinary people that are perfectly capable of being horrible on their own, and it would be just Jon’s luck to be caught up in something at random and get hurt, or worse. And they won’t be there to help. Again.

“I guess we could just…go with him,” Tim says, keeping his voice low. “Whether Elias wants us to or not.”

Martin shakes his head slowly. “I still don’t have a passport. And…I don’t think we can leave Sasha alone in the Archives. You can go, maybe.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.” Tim sighs and gently tucks a strand of hair back from Jon’s forehead. His skin is damp and clammy. “It’s a mess. He might be safer away from the Archives than we are, but…I worry, you know?”

“I know. I do, too.” Martin closes his eyes for a moment. “We just got him back. And we’ve got months to the Unknowing.”

Tim hesitates. He’s been thinking about that. “I don’t know that we do, actually. I—I don’t think it’s time-sensitive. I mean, I don’t think they have to wait for a certain time or anything. I think they just have to be…ready.”

“How will we know when they’re ready?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what they’re waiting for.” Tim stares down at Jon’s face. “I can’t decide if I’m afraid they’ll be ready before he gets back—”

“Or hoping,” Martin completes. “Because if the Unknowing happens while he’s overseas…at least he won’t be caught up in it. At least they’ll leave him alone.” He’s quiet for a moment. “At least it’s one thing we can protect him from.”

“God. I just…want to wrap him in bubble wrap and a blanket and fight off the world with a stick. Or at least keep him right here with us. I wish we could just stay here and let the world sort itself out for a change. Why do we have to be the ones doing all this?”

Martin reaches over and brushes Tim’s cheek with his fingertips, ever so lightly. “Anything worth having is worth fighting for,” he says softly.

Tim reaches across Jon’s sleeping form and pulls Martin closer, but he doesn’t say anything further.

The alarm goes off not long after; Jon is taking an early-morning flight by virtue of it being the cheapest available option, and he’s got to be there close to three hours early to check in. It’s too early for any of them to be properly hungry, but Martin makes tea while Jon takes a shower and Tim…sits around feeling useless.

As if sensing that, Martin glances over his shoulder at Tim. “Does he have any statements with him?”

“Oh, God, yeah, let me check.” Tim heads over to where Jon’s bag is. It’s a simple messenger bag he’s probably had since university, if not longer, frayed in spots and festooned with patches and pins. Jon never brought this to the Institute, instead using a professional faux-leather laptop bag, which isn’t surprising; it’d be pretty hard for him to sell the “serious academic” persona if he’s walking around advertising that he listens to Sinner’s Gin.

He opens the bag and looks through it. Jon’s packed a couple changes of clothes, some toiletries, a couple of paperback books, and of course the tape recorder, his personal one. But no statements.

Quietly, Tim goes over to the end table and opens the drawer. Inside are two tapes and a slim folder. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his hold on his powers, bracing for the colors to pop up. It’s surprisingly easier to filter out the Eye and see the beneath colors than usual—whatever’s in the folder glows orange around the edges but green in the middle, and one of the tapes just seems to have indigo stripes through the green rather than them being layered on top of each other. Like the Eye isn’t hiding the truth from him anymore, like it’s letting him really See.

He files that information away to deal with after he’s got some caffeine in him and nudges the Stranger tape out of the way; it’s probably the one he and Martin listened to, so it’s no good, it’s already been used. The other one is pure, blinding green—an Eye statement that Gertrude recorded, which is unusual. Tim seals off his ability and reaches for the tape. It takes him three tries to pick it up without dropping it—his hands are shaking, he guesses because he’s upset about Jon leaving—but he finally carries it and the folder over to tuck them into Jon’s bag, then seal it up again.

“He didn’t,” he tells Martin, heading back into the kitchen. Martin sighs and hands him a cup of tea. “But you never took back the ones you brought home after that whole thing with the Not-Diana, so I put them in his bag.”

“God, I can’t believe I forgot about that,” Martin murmurs. “Still, it’s been a hell of a week.”

Tim pauses, cup halfway to his lips. “God, how has it only been a week?”

Jon comes into the kitchen, hair still damp from the shower; it’s down to about his collar now and takes a while to dry. Martin silently hands him a cup of tea, too. None of them speak while they drink. It’s as if these last few minutes at home are too precious, or too heavy, for words. At last, though, Jon glances at the kitchen clock and swallows hard. “Time to go.”

Pure devastation flashes through Martin’s eyes, but he simply nods and takes the cups from him and Tim to put them in the sink. Tim worries at his lip as he studies Jon. “You’ve got everything? Passport, wallet, phone?”

A faint smile tugs at Jon’s lips briefly. He reaches into his pockets and produces the requisite items—a burgundy passport in near-pristine condition, a black billfold that’s seen better days, and the new phone they picked up for him Saturday morning that he’s gone to a lot of trouble to set up. “Charger’s in my bag.”

“Okay. Okay.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I guess that’s it, then.”

They take Tim’s car, not because Jon minds them driving his car but because Tim’s has a column shift and a bench seat in the front, which means Jon can sit between Tim and Martin for the journey. Traffic isn’t too bad this early in the morning, at least not until they get closer to the airport, but Jon is apparently far from the only person traveling today, so there’s a bit of a snarl before Tim is able to navigate up to Terminal Three.

He hesitates at an intersection and looks at Jon. “Do you want me to drop the two of you off at the door or—”

“No. There’s time,” Jon says softly. “You can park first. Then you’ll both know where it is.”

There’s more to that than what Jon is saying, but Tim doesn’t question it. Instead he finds a space in the short-term lot for Terminal Three, and if it’s one of the farthest spots from the terminal doors, well, there might not be a lot of people here dropping off or picking up at this time of day, but who knows what the situation will be by the time they go to leave? Jon slides out of the car and doesn’t take Tim’s arm or Martin’s, but they walk close enough together that it doesn’t really matter.

The doors open up into an enormous space. Martin, who’s clearly never flown before, looks around him with wide eyes, and Jon shrinks back slightly. Tim gently ushers them to one side of the door, where there are a couple of benches, and heads off to the departure boards to make sure they’re in the right terminal. Once he’s located Jon’s flight on the boards (on time, unsurprising for an early-morning flight), he makes his way back to where he left them. Jon has edged closer to Martin and Martin has an arm wrapped around Jon’s shoulders, and both of them look both terrified and heartsick. Tim looks at them, unobserved for the moment, and he’s struck by the urge to drag them both home, shut the door of their bedroom, draw the curtains, and stay there until the Unknowing collapses on its own. As badly as he wants revenge, as much as he wants to hit back at the thing that murdered his brother, he’ll give that up in a heartbeat if it’s the only way to keep Jon and Martin safe.

The penny drops then, bounces off just the right pegs, lands squarely in the right cup and oh.

Tim stands stock-still for a moment, stunned by the swift and sudden revelation. In retrospect, he doesn’t know why it surprises him so much; it’s not like he hasn’t known he’s polyamorous since he was fifteen, and God knows he’s wanted to kiss both of them more times than he can count. But, somehow, he’s been convincing himself they’re just friends, as close as brothers maybe, but nothing more than that. And, well, maybe they are. It’s more than that on Tim’s end, though.

He’s in love with Jon and Martin both, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses either of them. And Jon’s about to go haring off across the world alone, and Martin keeps accidentally coming to the attention of things that want to hurt or kill him, and oh, God, Tim is so incredibly screwed.

He shakes himself out of the stupor. He can deal with this later. Or never, as the case may be, but he promises himself he’ll deal with it later and heads over to the other two. Jon sees him and pulls, with obvious effort, away from Martin. “Is this the right terminal, or—?”

“No, you’re good. Your check-in counter is down this way.” Tim indicates the large sign for the airline Jon will be flying on the first leg of his journey—he’ll apparently be changing planes in Copenhagen.

They stay at Jon’s side all the way up to the check-in counter, where he provides his identification and credit card to the rather stiff old man behind the counter, who keeps sneering at the three of them in a way that makes Tim very much want to hit him. The man asks rather more questions than Tim is used to, even for an international flight, and he’s about to step in and explode when the man finally, finally hands Jon his boarding pass and moves on to the next person waiting.

“How did he manage to make ‘have a good trip’ sound like a curse?” Jon says under his breath as they turn towards the security checkpoint.

Martin snorts. “It’s like ‘may you live in interesting times.’”

“I’ll pass. After this, I would like my times to be as un-interesting and quiet as possible, thank you.” Jon smiles, but it melts away almost instantly.

There’s virtually no wait at the security checkpoint, Tim notices, or at least not compared to how it would be later in the day. Jon will be able to breeze through it in a matter of minutes. And according to the signs posted everywhere in huge letters, Tim and Martin won’t be able to accompany him. Martin stares at one of the signs boldly declaring TICKETED PASSENGERS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT for a long minute. His face is implacable, but Tim knows what’s behind it, because he’s feeling it too.

Jon looks at the queue, and the security gates, and the signs telling him to remove his shoes and have his ticket and passport ready. He turns to face Tim and Martin, opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, then suddenly gives a small, choked sob and lunges forward, clutching them both by the front of their shirts and burying his face in the narrow dip where their shoulders touch.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers.

Tim wraps one arm around Jon and the other around Martin; Martin does the same, and the three of them cling to one another tightly. He can feel Jon trembling and hear Martin’s breath hitching in his chest and he almost dares to let himself hope, but he pushes the thought out of his mind. He can’t let himself think that, not now, or he’ll drive himself crazy with wanting and fear. And if he’s wrong, if they don’t…it’s better to assume they don’t and possibly be surprised later than believe they do and almost certainly be crushed.

There’s soft music coming from somewhere, a gentle and soothing melody in a choked and broken voice, and it takes Tim a second to realize that it’s Martin, singing quietly so that just Tim and Jon can hear him. It’s a plaintive melody and the lyrics are a little melancholy, but the line when I return united we will be does at least warm Tim’s chest, just a little.

Jon gives a deep, shuddering breath and pulls back, almost reluctantly. “I—I’d best—I shouldn’t miss the flight.”

“We’ll wait,” Tim says, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. “Until—until you’re through.”

Jon nods. “I’ll let you know when I get to the gate, and when I board.”

“And when you land,” Martin insists. “I don’t care what time it is.”

“I will. I promise. I—” Jon swallows hard, looking from Tim to Martin and back, then steps forward and hugs Martin tightly. Martin hugs him back, and they murmur something to one another before Jon eases back, turns, and hugs Tim just as fiercely.

Tim hugs him back. He’s still too thin, feels too frail, somehow. He’s barely recovered from the hell Orsinov put him through and now they’re sending him off on his own, and Tim wants to keep him here, but he knows he can’t.

“Please look after him,” he whispers in Tim’s ear.

“I will,” Tim promises. “You be careful, you hear me?”

“I hear you. And I’ll be as careful as I can. I promise.” Jon squeezes him briefly, then slowly, almost reluctantly, lets go. He takes a deep breath, slips out of his shoes, and heads over to join the queue.

He doesn’t say goodbye. Tim’s strangely relieved by that.

True to their promise, Tim and Martin stay where they are, side by side, watching as Jon inches ever closer to the metal detectors and security checkpoint. When Jon places bag and shoes in a bin to go on the conveyor belt, Martin reaches over without looking and grabs Tim’s hand. Tim grips his tightly in return, and they only…watch.

They can barely see him on the other side of the security gate, but for a brief moment, Tim sees Jon hesitate and look over his shoulder. Tim waves, Martin does too, and Jon raises his hand in farewell before slowly turning and walking away.

Martin lets go of Tim’s hand, but before Tim has time to regret its absence, he puts his arm around Tim’s shoulders and pull him closer. Tim slides his arm around Martin’s waist. They don’t need to say anything; they just turn and walk away.

People mostly ignore them, although one or two give them inscrutable looks. Tim doesn’t know if they think they’re a couple and disapprove or think they’re mourning something or what, but he decides he doesn’t care as long as they leave him alone. They make their way slowly back to Tim’s car, but don’t get in; Tim leans against the back of it, and Martin joins him, arms folded as they look up at the still-black sky.

“What song was that?” Tim finally asks. “That you were—before he left.”

Martin rubs a hand over his face. “It’s called ‘The Leaving of Liverpool.’ I think. It’s—it’s the song my dad always sang the night before he left, when he was putting me to bed.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then adds softly, “I fell asleep.”

“What?” Tim turns to look at Martin, frowning.

“The night he—we had this whole routine at bedtime when he was about to leave for the fishing run, and one of them was him singing that song to me. I sang along on the chorus, once I learned it, which didn’t take long.” Martin isn’t looking at Tim, his eyes still on the sky, but Tim can see the glint of tears in them. “Normally I’d settle down and close my eyes after he left, but that last time…I was tired. I don’t remember why, but I fell asleep before he got to the last verse, so I wasn’t awake for the whole song.” He turns to look at Tim. “And then he never came back. I thought it was my fault. I thought—it’s stupid, I know it’s stupid, but at first I thought it was like a-a magic charm or something, and I broke the ritual and that’s why he didn’t come back. I thought something had happened to him and—”

“Oh, Martin.” Tim reaches over and pulls Martin into a tight hug. Martin hugs him back, and Tim can feel the tears spilling over. “It’s not your fault. And—and Jon’s going to be okay. He will. He’ll be back soon.”

“I know,” Martin says softly. “It’s just…”

Tim doesn’t need Martin to finish. “I know.”

They don’t go anywhere. They probably should, probably don’t need to sit in the parking lot, but they do. They lean against Tim’s car and watch the stars, occasionally punctuated by the lights of planes taking off or landing. Jon texts them both to let them know he’s through customs, and then that he’s at his gate. Still they don’t leave, and still they don’t speak.

Finally, finally, the text comes to both of their phones. [Just took my seat on the plane. Have to turn my phone off now. Will text you when I arrive.]

Martin’s hands shake as he sends the reply. Tim waits for it to pop up on his own phone. [Have a safe flight.]

Jon’s next text comes almost at the same instant; he must have been typing it to send while Martin was trying to reply himself. Three simple words. Their meaning can’t be clearer. Still, Tim has to stare at them for a long moment.

[Miss you already.]

Slowly, Tim raises his head to look at Martin and finds Martin staring back with a look that’s probably identical to the one on Tim’s face. He’s pale, his eyes red-rimmed, but he’s not crying. They’re probably both past tears at this point. It’s just fear and longing and the ache of missing a part of themselves.

Tim fishes out his keys and holds them up; Martin nods, and they both climb into the car. When Tim turns the ignition on, the entire dashboard flashes for a moment—there’s a short in the electrical system somewhere; he’s been meaning to get it looked at, but he doesn’t drive much these days and this doesn’t happen every time, just occasionally—and the radio kicks on of its own volition. A reedy American tenor belts out the last line of the first verse. Already I’m so lonesome I could die…

Tim scowls at the radio. “It should be illegal to play this song within ten miles of a major airport.”

Martin gives a soft, slightly broken laugh. “Breakfast?”

“I don’t know that I can eat, but we can give it a shot.”

“Yeah, but…” Martin gives Tim a sideways look. “I promised I’d look after you.”

Tim grins and tries, once again, to kill the sudden flare of hope in his chest. “Same.”

“God, he’s such a worrywart.” Martin holds up a hand. “I know, I know, pot, kettle, et cetera. Want to call Sasha and see if she’s up?”

“No, I don’t want to die today.” Tim puts the car in gear and backs out of the space. “Come on. There have to be a few places open this early that won’t be too expensive for us to not eat at.”

Martin reaches over and puts his hand over Tim’s, not squeezing or holding, just resting it there. Tim slips his thumb over the back of Martin’s hand and rubs it gently, feeling it catch against the very, very slight roughness of Martin’s skin. The scars from the worms have faded as much as they ever will, mere pale circles against his skin, but there’s one on his right pinkie finger where the worm very nearly went all the way through, and there’s an ever-so-faint ridging there that Tim keeps rubbing at, over and over, as if he can erase the hurt and the marks from Martin’s skin.

It’s not until they get to the café that it occurs to Tim that what they’ve just done is exactly what the Primes did in those early days when they were still trying to conceal their relationship. It seems too dangerous to consider the ramifications of that, though, so Tim settles for sliding into the same side of the booth as Martin and leaning against his shoulder, needing some of his strength and warmth and softness.

Martin lets him.

#leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#ollie writes fanfic #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartim #WE'VE GOT TWO OUT OF THREE REALIZATIONS FOLKS #angst #pining #heartbreak #look Jon's leaving for America and Tim has just figured out he's in love #what did you expect to happen

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ptolomeia · 4 years

Text

Rhymes With I Love You

Summary: Thomas realizes he is deeply in love with his friend Janus. Luckily for him, it turns out Janus loves him back.

Pairing: Thomas/Janus

Rating: T

Tags: Human Au, Fluff, Mutual Pining

Words: 1802

Read it on AO3

It was the laugh that undid him. Loud, unrestrained, belly laughter. Tears in the corners of his eyes and little sounds that Janus would never admit were snorts escaping. Janus unabashedly, dorkily, loudly happy, for all the world, but most importantly, for Thomas to see.

Thomas knew then and there that, not only did he love Janus, he’d loved him for a while. He didn’t think the words “I love you so much” would have come so close to falling out of his mouth like an armed, friendship destroying bomb if he hadn’t been in love for a while.

And could anyone really blame him? This was Janus he was talking about. Brilliant, beautiful, eloquent, funny, sharp—Thomas could go on all day. And had. The less said about the contents of the margins of his notes (kept carefully tucked away whenever there was a change of seeing Janus) these days, the better.

But more than any of those things (and they were great things!) Janus was kind. You’d never guess, when you first met him, but under all that snark and swagger, Janus was one of the most considerate people Thomas had ever met. He was always willing to go a little out of his way to help, and he never forgot to make Thomas a cup of tea when he made himself one.

Yes, Thomas was deeply and irrevocably in love with Janus, and had been for who knew how long. There were only two problems with this.

The first one wasn’t so bad; Janus didn’t love him back. Which was fair, honestly. Thomas was an anxious mess of a human being, barely able to keep on top of his master’s work. Thomas might be able to listen to Janus talk for hours about the philosophers he loved and studied and analyzed, but it’s not like Thomas had ever been able to really get any of it. Why wouldn’t Janus want someone who was his intellectual equal? Someone who could at least appear to be as put together as Janus was?

So yeah, Janus didn’t love him back, but that really wasn’t the real problem. Thomas was happy just being Janus’s friend, spending time with him just as he always had. No, it was the second problem that was the real problem.

You think a man who’d spend over two decades in the closet would be better at hiding things, but nope. Apparently he’d used up all his secret keeping abilities in those years because now, every time he saw Janus, every time Janus made a quip, or smirked, or breathed, Thomas was overcome with the desire to tell Janus about his unreciprocated feelings.

In retrospect, letting Janus serve him wine when Janus had come over for dinner had been a bad idea.

He hadn’t actually said “Janus, I love you, please pass the salt”, but it was a close run thing.

No, it wasn’t until after supper and another glass of wine was finished and cleaned up from, after Janus had made them both a cup of tea and was sitting with Thomas on his small, busted up couch in his small, student apartment, talking in depth about the idiocy of some famous philosopher, as Thomas watched Janus’s elegant hands so eloquently illustrate what Janus was saying, that the words he’d barely managed to keep behind clenched teeth for the past few weeks fell out into the world.

“I’m in love with you.”

Janus froze. Thomas froze. Oh shit. He wanted to believe he hadn’t actually said that, but Janus’s entirely unreadable expression said otherwise.

“What?” Janus hissed, his eyes searching Thomas’s face.

“Oh God,” Thomas said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Too late to pretend he hadn’t said anything and they could ignore it. Now he just had to try for damage control and hope he hadn’t managed to destroy his friendship with Janus completely. “I’m sorry, Janus—I don’t know why I said that. No, I mean, I do, but I know you don’t return my feelings—which is totally fine! I just hope we can—”

“I hate tea,” Janus interrupted Thomas’s frantic and pathetic attempt to explain.

“What?” It was Thomas’s turn to say.

“I hate tea,” Janus said, putting down the mug of tea he made himself, and leaning towards Thomas. “I always have. I’ve spent years trying to find a blend I could stand—you have no idea how many samplers I’ve gone through—before realizing no such blend existed and stopped bothering. Black, Green, White, Pu’er, Herbal, Rooibos, Oolong, Chai—I’ve tried them all to no avail. It doesn’t matter how long I steep them, or if I use the right temperature of water. It doesn’t matter how I try to doctor it with milk or sugar or lemon or honey. Wine, Coffee, plain water, even milk are more to my taste than tea. Hell, I’d rather drink beer.”

“But—But that’s ridiculous!” Thomas managed, unable to reconcile the words coming out of Janus’s mouth with the hundreds of mugs of tea he’d seen his friend drink. “You’re literally drinking tea right now! You made it yourself 20 minutes ago! I was right there watching you! Besides, I’ve seen you drink hundreds of cups of tea over the years and never seen you even touch a beer. I swear, every other time we’re at one of our places you say you were thinking of making yourself some tea and would I… like… some…” Thomas felt his eyes widen. No, that couldn’t be it… could it?

“Yes,” Janus said, leaning further forward, eyes bright and intense and overwhelming. “Very early on after meeting you, Thomas—After falling so deeply in love with you I knew I’d never be able to find my way out if I ever wanted to, not that I ever have—I realized you are the most stubborn person on the face of the planet when it comes to letting other people take care of you. You once mentioned that you find a cup of tea soothing, but later, when I wanted to make just you one, you absolutely refused to let me. So, even if I couldn’t stand the stuff, the simplest way for me to offer you the comfort I so desperately wanted to give you was to learn to choke down the stuff myself. I may hate tea, Thomas. But you don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because as someone once said ‘how can I help rhymes with I love you’ and I didn’t think you’d let me say either. Thomas, I would drink a thousand mugs of tea to see that soft, relieved smile of yours when I make you one when you’re stressed. I love you, Thomas. I have loved you for years.”

“But… but why?” Thomas asked, knowing he was repeating himself, but way too overwhelmed to do anything else. Janus loved him?

“Why?” Janus said, head jerking back. “Thomas, I knew you had issues knowing your own worth but—” Janus bit back his words and narrowed his eyes before starting again. “While the fact that you are physically stunning is what first attracted me to you, it’s not the reason I love you.” Breathing. Thomas had to remember that breathing was a thing. “No, I fell in love with you for other things. First of all, that brilliant mind of yours. Not only can you retain and easily access the truly astounding number of facts and how they relate to each other than you need for your engineering work, you have an astonishing way of coming sideways at a problem and developing an elegant solution no one else would imagine. There’s also the fact that you’re hilarious. I don’t think anyone has ever made me laugh as hard or as often as you have. But most importantly, Thomas, the real reason I fell so inescapably in love with you is that you are kind. You look at a world filled with casual cruelty and callousness, where injustice runs rampant and stupid rules let people day for no reason at all—and you say ‘Yes. All this is true. And I will do what I can to change that. I will be kind’. And you are. And you make the world a better place for it. Thomas, I’d have to be an idiot not to fall in love with you.”

And Janus was no idiot.

“You really love me?” Thomas asked, not quite able to believe it.

“I lie about many things, Thomas. You already know that about me. But I would not, will not, lie about this.” There was more honest vulnerability and emotion in Janus’s eyes than Thomas had ever seen there, and if possible, Thomas fell even deeper. Not that it mattered, because apparently Janus had been waiting to catch him all along. “I love you, Thomas Sanders. And I cannot possibly express how happy I am to hear you love me too.”

Janus loved him. Janus loved him.

Janus had also lied to him, but Thomas had known Janus’s flaws when he’d fallen in love, and had fallen anyway. And now that he knew what Janus was willing to do to make him happy?

“At some point,” Thomas said breathlessly (he seemed to have lost his breath somewhere deep in Janus’s eyes), “At some point we’re going to have to talk about the fact that apparently you’ve been lying to me.”

“Agreed,” Janus said, quick and so certain that Thomas didn’t doubt for a second that they would.

“But until then,” Thomas managed. “Until then, can I kiss yo—”

He didn’t manage to finish the sentence before Janus’s lips were pressed against his own.

“My love,” Janus said with a faint, almost disbelieving reverence, pulling back just far enough to look into Thomas’s eyes. “We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever we want,” Thomas corrected gently, reaching up to lovingly cup Janus’s cheek. “From here on out, we both tell each other what we actually want, instead of dancing around it, okay?”

“In that case,” Janus more purred than said, turning his face slightly to press a kiss against the pad of Thomas’s thumb, while never taking his eyes of Thomas’s face, “I would very much like to kiss you again.”

Thomas swallowed. Thomas swallowed again. “Agreed,” he just managed to say.

With a soft laugh—a laugh Thomas thought he loved just as much as the belly laugh that made him realize the truth—Janus leaved back in and kissed him again.

Later, they would talk with each other about all the things they still needed to. Later, they would be honest and communicate and build something that let both of them feel heard and loved. But that could wait til morning. For now, there were better things to do.

#Sanders sides #sanders sides fic #thomceit #Janus sanders #me and my fic #fluff #mutual pining

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absolutebl · 4 years

Note

What apps / platforms / sites do you use for watching BL? I'm happy to pay a subscription fee. Thank you for your help!

Unfortunately there isn’t a one stop shop for BL. Not even just Thai BL. So here’s a big ol’ resource post for you.

YouTube - Oxygen etc...

Mostly I use YouTube for things like Oxygen, and fannish content like music vids, interviews, and talk shows. I suggest subscribing to the production studio’s and distributor’s channels there (this is a good way to show support as # of subs increases exposure + ad revenue). Even if you don’t intend to watch on YouTube, subscribing helps the studios a lot.

Globe Studios - Gaya

GMMTV - 2gether, Gifted, I’m Tee, Chonthon + OffGun, TayNew, BrightWin, and SingtoKrist promo vehicles

Mauve Series - Oxygen

Mind Trio - Calculating Love

Oxin Films - My Day

Star Hunter - The Moment, Gen Y

Studio Wabi Sabi - Until We Meet Again, Between Us, Love Mechanics, Seven Project, Love By Chance, The En of Love

Wayufilm Production - My Bromance

WHYRU Channel

Lovely Writer

I like YouTube’s mobile interface best since I prefer not to watch on a PC. I don’t have a YouTube monthly subscription, but I’ve considered it. I’m not really down with YouTub’s corporate culture or politics. The value for money hasn’t evened any of this out for me yet, especially as YouTube monthly sub is higher than most every other platform - with less value ad content.

YouTube is unstable for BL. Some shows never get there, and proprietary distributors like GMMTV have a history of pulling all their content arbitrarily (e,g, Our Skyy has been down for months and only just showed up again). Both TharnType and Why R U are currently down. Usually, studios start jacking around with the older shows when newer spin offs are launching or going into promo.

Where else to get ‘em?

It really depends on the show.

Thai Distribution Direct - TharnType 2

TharnType 2 is being made available direct via the originating Thai distributor. I encourage you to watch it there so they can get the ad revenue: https://tv.line.me/tharntypetheseries

* To be smart, any Thai distributor worth their salt should take this tactic and then move the content, with a relaunch and “extras” over to their YouTube channels say after 6 months or so (if they can’t get a secondary distributor like Viki or Netflx intersted). It would maximize exposure, fan interest, and revenue.

** From an industry stand point, I wouldn’t expect TT2 to STAY available direct from Line indefinitely. So watch it NOW.

Netflix - SOTUS & Love Sick 1

SOTUS & Love Sick first seasons are on Netflix, with follow up seasons on YouTube. You need a Netflix account to watch. You can also find them on YouTube but if you have Netflix, watch them there.

Also these are good ones to push onto possible new BL recruits. The more watchers the better, since maybe it will get Netflix to fund and buy more queer content. I have concerns with Netflix corporate, but they are one of the few actively funding queer romance projects right now, so... yeah?

Viki - Love By Chance 2

LBC2 is on Viki, behind a paywall. But since Viki doesn’t have very many Thai BLs (they have some from Taiwan like the HIStory series), I haven’t subscribed. I’m waiting for them to hold enough IP to make it worth my while. Also, I have reservations about LBC2 and Mame’s writing in general, so just LBC2 isn’t enough for me, personally.

Viki is a subsidiary of Japanese company Rakutan which also holds Kobo, and I like what they do to go up against US based conglomerates. (All cards on the table, I’ve visited Rakutan corporate.) We will see if they really double down and focus on BL. If they do, I’ll sub.

Fan Subs & Uploads - Cherry Magic

Cherry Magic (Doutei dato Mahoutsukai ni narerurashii) out of Japan has an excellent fan subber doing the bulk of the work to make this accessible. I watch it through them, and I tip them $ for their labor. If you watch this one and like it, I encourage you to do the same. https://irozuku.org/fansub/tag/cherry-magic/

Less Savory Options - Daily Motion & Drama Cool

You can find ripped and rebranded low grade eng subs if you are desperate from Daily Motion. I tend to use Bento Box’s channel or BL Series HD. You can find hard to reach stuff like He’s Coming to Me (HIGHLY recommended), ITTSAY, MGYG, and LBC2 there. But the content originators aren’t getting any money from it, so it’s a bit of an ethical dilemma.

How do we get more made if these don’t earn money? And yet, how do we watch when they aren’t distributed internationally?

The other option in this same vein in Drama Cool, it’s the only place I have found Friend Forever.

How to keep track?

Frankly the best source for all this kind of information is MyDramaList which does exactly as it says, allows you to organize, kept track of, and discuss Asian dramas.

There is a thriving BL community there. Commenters will share links with each other. I don’t have an account but my spies do.

Hope this helps.

File this under my questionable relationship with international DRM and IP.

No tags to protect the guilty.

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 5 years

Text

Nerdy Chicks Rule- Peter Parker x Reader

Requested by @fandom-princess-forevermore: How about Peter Parker being a tutor for a shy, nerdy girl and when he helps her get an A+ on a test, she kisses him. And at first, he's shocked but then the kiss becomes a make-out? 😉😉😍😍

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Or as I’m spending it, Galentine’s Day since I’ll be heading out with one of my best friends! Remember to love everyone, every day, not just today.

Just as a side note, the title came up from an old tee-shirt I had as a teenager that had a baby chicken with glasses standing on a ruler and that’s what it said 😊

Oh, the description of the reader getting ready to graduate from college is how it was for me last year. Personal touch :D

Masterlist

Warnings: Anger, self-doubt, mostly FLUFFY FLUFF!

Word Count: 1699

It was your senior year of college; graduation was just right around the corner for you and you were working your tail-end off. Not just for this last semester, but your entire college career, you always put your best foot forward. It came with a lot of stress but you were at the top of your class and you were sure you were going to graduate with honors. Except, there was one thing that didn’t make you believe you were even going to make it to graduation. You were performing very well in all of your classes, minus the one online History class you were enrolled in. For some unknown reason to you, this professor was strict, and you never seemed to be able to keep up with the way she graded. You tried everything you could until you came to the very last idea you could think of; get a tutor.

Not that you ever needed one before in your college time, but you were desperate to pass this class and you had one month left until the end of the semester. Mustering up all the courage you had, you walked down the halls of the student center on campus and went to ask about tutors available for History.

“Hi, may I help you?” A young student asked from behind a computer at the information desk.

“Hi, I need a tutor for my online History class. The semester is almost over and I’m still failing the class.”

“Oh no, okay, well we have quite a few History tutors but the only one available for the rest of the semester. Um, Peter Parker is his name. He’s one of the best students of History so he’d be more than happy to help you out.”

You recognized the name; Peter Parker. He was well-known around campus, because of his internship at Stark Industries. Popularity was easy to come by for him because he learned from Tony Stark directly.

“Oh, um, okay. If he’s the last one.” You say, hesitant about asking him for help. You weren’t a very sociable person, mostly keeping to yourself, so this is a new and scary territory.

“Yes, he’s the only open schedule we have until the end of the semester. His next opening is tomorrow at 2:15. Would that work for you?” The receptionist asked, focused on the computer before looking up to you for your answer.

“Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Great, what’s your name?”

“Y/F/N, Y/L/N.” You say as the receptionist enters everything on the computer.

“And your student ID number?”

“983004.”

“Perfect, we have you down for tutoring with Peter Parker tomorrow at 2:15, right here.” She handed you a piece of pink paper that had all the info she just told you and bid you a nice day.

“You too.”

You were finished with your classes for the day so you decided to head home to try to figure out this class.

*************************************************

Today was an easier day for you, only having one class and then the tutoring session with Peter. Throughout the day, your mind kept wandering off to Peter and the session later on. You knew he was attractive but he didn’t know you existed; it was a big school. You thought about if he would be nice to you, or if you would even be able to focus. Yes, you hated to admit it, but you had a small crush on Peter. It didn’t matter though, every girl liked him; why were you different?

When your class let out for the day, it was just after two in the afternoon so you made sure you briskly walked to the student center. Can’t be late for your tutoring session since you were the one who needed it. At exactly 2:15, you arrived and checked in with the receptionist from the day before.

“Awesome, well Peter is running a little behind on another session but he’ll be out to get you soon. You may take a seat if you’d like.”

Doing as you were told, the bouncing in your leg would not stop, as anticipation began bubbling over. Every few minutes, you would check your phone to see the minutes slowly ticking by, until you heard,

“Y/F/N, Y/L/N?” Your head snaps up and at that moment, you were glad you were sitting; he was gorgeous.

You slowly stand to your feet and grab your backpack, walking over to where Peter stood. He was dressed in a rather nice dress shirt and dress pants, much fancier than you would expect someone to dress for classes.

“Hi, how you doing?” Peter says, smiling at you and extending his hand to guide you into the room. You set your bag on the floor and sit on one side of the large round table in the conference room, as Peter shut the door.

“So, Y/N, I hear you have a rather tough online History class. Tell me, what’s going on?” He asks, sitting on top of the desk, close to you but leaving good distance.

“Well, I can’t seem to figure out what she expects for her assignments. The discussions are long and difficult and I can’t seem to meet the professor’s standards.”

“Oh my, that does sound tough. Well, if you can pull up one of your assignments, I’ll give it a look and see how I can help.”

You pull out your laptop and open it to your most recent assignment.

“Here.” You say, turning the laptop to Peter who put some glasses on to see better, which made him all the more attractive.

After a few minutes, Peter had found some answers.

“Okay, I see what’s going on here. So, you’re not summarizing, you’re essentially writing what isn’t written in the text. What’s between the lines, like so.” Peter wrote up and example, only just a small part, and then showed you what he wrote.

“See how I’m using those questions she provided? Keep answering those because they’re not directly written in the text. What is the audience, who is this written for, why was this written, based on what you just read. Make sense?” He asked and you tired to let all the information sit in.

“Not quite. I’m not very bright.”

“Don’t say that, here, let me show you again.”

As much as it made you mad, you were glad to have the extra training.

“I think I get it now.”

“Okay, go ahead and finish this chapter and go back and make those changes and see how you do,” Peter said and you went ahead and followed his guide. Once everything was finished, he looked everything over once more and gave you his approval.

“Well, you turn this in, Y/N, and you’ll do just fine.”

“You think?” You grew more excited at the potential of you finally making a good grade, that you immediately turned it in.

“You got this.” He put his hand on your shoulder and smiled at you. You felt your heart rate speed up at the contact but decided it was best to push it aside.

*************************************************

After a few passed assignments, your grade began going up, all thanks to the advice from Peter. You two soon became friends too, after the first few sessions. Peter was your biggest support system and he was so proud every time things worked well for you. Yesterday, you had a test and today, you were receiving your grade. It was the first test since Peter began helping you and it was terrifying to see if it all paid off.

“Pete! I got my first test grade since our sessions started!” You burst into the conference room with your laptop under your arm.

“Oh, that’s great, Y/N! What did you get?” He asked, looking at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t look at it, you check it!” You shove the laptop his way and he opens it.

“No matter what happens, Y/N, I’m proud of you. You’ve been working so hard and it’s been showing.”

“Oh my gosh, Pete, just tell me what my grade is!”

His jaw dropped in the slightest way as he looked at the screen.

“Well?”

“You got a 100.”

“What?!” You asked, disbelieving him at first.

“See for yourself.” He passes your laptop to you and you see he was right. You got a 100 on the test.

“Oh my gosh, I did it!”

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N!”

“Peter, oh my gosh, thank you!” You jumped up and went to hug him. Pulling back to look in his eyes, you suddenly pushed your lips on his in a celebratory manner. He freezes so you take that as a rejection, pulling away from him.

“S-sorry, I, shouldn’t have just…”

But before you could say anything else, Peter pulled you right back to him, hands gripping your waist, and crashing his lips on yours once again. You held his forearms, making sure to keep him in place as his tongue found your bottom lip. He was asking for permission, to which you gladly opened your lips to allow him access, and his hold only grew stronger. You felt him back up, you follow his lead, as he backed you onto the desk. He lifted you up and set you down on the table, spreading your legs apart just enough for him to stand between. One handheld your head in place while the other traveled down to the hemline of your shirt. He lifted it, and slowly moved his hand to the bottom of your bra. Before anything could go any further, he pushed back, removing his hand and stepping away from you.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Peter said, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I bet it was as long as I was waiting for it.” You joke and he pecks your lips again.

“How about I take you on a date and then maybe later, get back to this?” He wiggled his eyebrows causing you to laugh.

“You had me at a date.” You smile as you grab your belongings, him doing the same, and taking his hand in yours, rushing out to take you out.

Tag List: @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @simpleboox @marvelfansworld @juju-la-tortue @67-chevy-baby @grace15ella @tloveswriting @damn-stark

#tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #nerd #nerdy chicks #peter parker x reader

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imaginesbymk · 4 years

Text

PINK + WHITE.

—CHAPTER SEVEN ; FINN, ALL GROWN UP.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, smoking

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

"Just remember, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line." - The Princess Bride (1987)

"PENARTH ART GALLERY." Tommy cleared his throat before speaking to the operator on the telephone. He pulled a long drag off his cigarette as he waited, even though he knew his call would lead to no avail. He hasn't heard back from her in hours. It wasn't even that difficult of an instruction: reach back to him with her mind made up once she finished her errand in Camden town. Either Teresa forgot, was abducted, killed, or she never kept true to her word when she agreed to phone him. Tommy needed a response so desperately. It had been a while since the vendetta began, and he doubt he would be spared a second to take a deep breath before the Changretta mob comes in to take them out by surprise. He needed an answer now.

No response. He slams the receiver shut, almost nearly breaking the telephone, and sighs. If Tommy had to pick up and reach the operator, the same response of no communication on the other end of the line would come up once more. No point.

Groaning in exhaustion, Tommy rubs his nose bridge as Polly walks in, noticing him leaning back in his chair.

"I told you," she says. "she won't come back."

Tommy grunts. "She will. Just give it a few hours."

"We gave her a day, Tommy. Now we're giving her a few hours?" Polly slams Tommy's diary containing weekly schedules & anything important jotted in black ink, each were separated with a blank box. She flipped to the bookmarked page that highlighted one day of the week, a star coloured in the margins. She jabs a finger on it. "The boxing match. We're losing time."

"Yes, Pol. I'm aware," Tommy says, annoyed. It's not like he wasn't giving Aberama Gold's son a dream of being a boxing champion and possible boxing career in exchange for extra hands to have blood on them in a vendetta. "And what other things I'm aware of that you have to tell me?"

"Are you also aware that Teresa Griffith is no walk in the park—"

"Neither of us are, Polly."

"Are you aware that Teresa Griffith is no walk in the park," Polly repeated her sentence, sternly this time, "and that begging for her help is no use? We've got what we already need, why do you still need her? You miss her?"

"Teresa will reach out to Luca Changretta."

"For what? A fuck while he isn't looking?"

"I've dug deeper, Pol. He's scavenging for things to claim in all of Britain. If he'll start with Alfie Solomon's business, that means he's not shy to come after Teresa's. The Penarth art gallery will be signed under the Changretta name so she will try to withdraw the unjust negotiation, which will give us more time to reach out to Michael's updates before Bonnie and Goliath will face each other in the ring." Tommy slammed his diary, brushing off his wonder on how Polly was able to gain access to it in the first place when it's usually Lizzie who technically is only allowed to touch it.

Polly stared at him with a hint of dread.

"What is it?"

Frustrating as it is, Polly really didn't have the answer to pinpoint. "I read her tea leaves before she walked out on us. It said she'll lose what she loves the most."

"What or who?"

"I couldn't tell. But I imagine it being her new chapter. But now it makes much more sense. She'll lose the gallery, perhaps."

Tommy leans forward to look up closer to Aunt Polly. "So like I said, give it a few hours. I know she will come back. I doubt she keeps a handgun in her glove compartment anymore. I'll ensure her safety and keep the gallery up under her name. She needs us just as much as we need her."

Polly let out a small sigh, collecting the heavy-weighted diary to carry out with her through the same way she came in. Let's hope...

Returning to Penarth was a relief. Teresa was far away from the next person who could get on her last nerve, unless one of the tour guides or management decides to point out a small circumstance to the owner, but the Welsh woman found comfort and bliss when she looks up at a painting made by an iconic artist that speaks through their canvas.

"We should really put up more exit signs, Miss," one of the tour guides said to Teresa as they walked down the halls together. "some of the guests have been getting lost with the new corridors. And they were wondering about the empty room upstairs?"

"I've spoken to people from Nice. They loved what we did with the exhibition and they want to place up more paintings, so I saved some extra room."

"On... the second floor?"

"Why not?" Teresa shrugs. "We've set up enough for the main floor, second floor should be okay as well." And she walked down the opposite direction, hoping the tour guide wasn't gonna follow her and object the display plans.

"Miss Griffith," an exhausted employee rushes over to her, clearly out of breath from searching around the entire building for one woman. "Your office is being blown up with phone calls from Birmingham."

Teresa frowns. Did Mr. Shelby not take the hint already?

"Shall I leave a message?"

"Just ignore it. Probably someone looking to pest. We've no time for that," Teresa let out a sigh, continuing down the way she meant to go through, passing a couple of guests who read each art piece like a picture book. She had to frown again. The least she could do was answer one phone call from the man, say the word and he'd leave her be. Ignoring him would push him towards her even more.

Teresa rested her walking by standing in front of the painting. The painting, to emphasize—the one Luca pointed out to her when they first met. She hadn't looked at it in so long. Every time she passed that wall, she just had to avoid making eye contact. How ridiculous it is to look away from art, which is the opposite of the common reaction. But it was a painting only Teresa felt like a curse. Teresa doubted Luca even cared about what the painting was, since his excuse to reel her attention was to poke fun about what she loved. If only she could gain that much luck of approval to remove the piece off of that wall with her bare hands. Disrespectful and unprofessional, yes. But if she had the chance to, she would do it.

Now his voice spoke just as loud as the form of the oil painting. You were just another woman.

Teresa shook her head. It was indeed an awkward encounter, and if she had to describe it; maybe it was a heartbreak about another.

It doesn't matter anymore. Luca is here on business, to kill the man whose phone calls you're ignoring, but that is okay. You're not a Peaky Blinder. It's time to turn around and move on...

She did turn around actually, just to be greeted with another familiar face.

"Finn?"

SHE had to chuckle in disbelief. Seeing Finn holding a cigarette in his hand so casually just proves that he was no stranger to the addicting habit. He was the youngest of the family and Teresa used to chase him around the streets in a game of tag. He was much shorter than she was, voice higher, and after watching them, he mimicked the little things his older brothers did, even though it was dangerous for a young boy like him to fully understand.

"Do they know that you're here?" Teresa took a puff out of hers.

"Arthur sent me," Finn replied.

Teresa rolls her eyes. "Right," she mutters under her breath. She kicked a few rocks on the large paved steps that laid out as the entrance of her gallery. "Don't tell me. You're here to scold me for ignoring Tommy. It's not like I don't get migraines from my telephone ringing so fucking much."

"Why are you avoiding him, Teresa? Even when you were at the Garrison, agreeing to let Tommy fill you in on what needs to be done. He would of thought you got shot, otherwise."

"I went to Camden and then came back here."

"Without giving him a final decision?"

"He should get the hint by now. Is that bastard so desperate for a decoy? I doubt the Italians would fall for another trap." That was another thing she was informed about. Polly and Tommy's plan was a semi-success, however Luca Changretta is still alive, and his blood must be boiling because of how much time he had wasted sparing Michael's life when he had the chance to shoot him in cold blood.

"Luca Changretta will come after Alfie Solomons' business, as he will yours," Finn says. "He will come here and make you hand it over to his family or he will kill you. Whether he does that before or after killing us all, it will happen sooner or later."

Typical Luca. If he really thought she was just another woman, he would definitely threaten her over her business. "Did Tommy tell you to say all of that?" she chuckled.

Finn shrugs. "Maybe. But it's good that you know now. So, that gives you a valid reason to help?"

Teresa grinned. "The last time I saw you, you wore tiny suspenders, even your shoes were tiny. I could of lifted you like a doll from a toy store. Look at yourself, Finn."

"I can't, that's physically impossible."

"Finn, all grown up!" Teresa teases, using her hand to pinch together his rosy cheeks.

Finn groans in annoyance, rubbing his cheek to sooth the stinging pain after shoving her hand off him. "Fuck's sake, Teresa! We need you! You were big help when you were last with us, and you can still be the big help. Seriously, you're all our last bet."

"Tell Tommy I need more time to think about it."

"Teresa, there isn't any more time. We're out of it. We need a solid answer now."

"You guys did fine without me. Am I still being used a distraction? What if Tommy wants me as a mole?"

"He won't. That's not something we do often, most of the time it doesn't end up working out."

"Finn..." Teresa shook her head, taking him seriously this time. "I can't help kill Luca Changretta. I thought about it but I promised to never get involved with the Peaky Blinders, or anything that would paint me as a criminal. If things didn't happen the way it did, I would of said yes without a second thought."

Finn furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

She let out a soft sigh, hoping the pain would burn out like the end of her cigarette. "Because I knew Luca. He and I were once lovers."

+ basically,,,,, teresa wants to help but at the same time she doesn't want to help lmfaoo.

#pink+white #tommy shelby #luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #oc

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: A Judicious Amount of Effort (SpicyHoneyMustard, lemon)

Summary: After a Judgement, Rus needs his lovers and protectors more than ever. Is there anything they won't do for him?

Tags: SpicyHoneyMustard, Fontcest, Fellcest, Sibling Incest, Threesome, Established Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LEMONY GOODNESS!!

Sequel to:

Showtime

Secret Garden

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was a simple truth that patience was a learned skill. Some were born with it, the same that they were born with their magical traits or the ability to recall a song only heard once. Red could be endlessly patient when circumstances called for it, outwardly placid and if there was anything roiling within him beneath the surface, none of it ever emerged in the light of day.

Patience did not come to Edge as easily. For him it was a learned behavior and joining the guard was a good training in the art of how to wait. It would never be innate to him, but these days Edge managed well enough.

Except on Judgment days.

In the Underground, the Judgement Hall in New Home had been elegant, golden and ethereal, worthy of an avatar of the Angel. Though he’d only seen it once Edge remembered it with perfect clarity, and no wonder; that was the day he took his vows, kneeling before the previous Judge and swearing his fealty to the Angel as his brother had done only a couple years before him. That was before Rus, before he and Red were Chosen, and there were times his dreams altered the memory, set him kneeling before Rus as he looked down at him with the terrible, empty sockets of Judge to deem whether he was worthy.

On the Surface, things were markedly different. For one, rather than a Judgement Hall, it was more of a corner office in the Embassy and while Edge, having never been inside, didn’t know anything about the décor, it hardly seemed elegant for a Judging to take place around the corner from the copy machine.

Outside was a sitting area with several comfortable chairs, large enough even for the Queen, and Edge wondered sourly what the rest of the Monster community would think if they knew that those awaiting the results of a Judgement sat around in a waiting room reminiscent of a Human dentist office.

This was where Edge was currently standing, moving restlessly from one end of the room to the other, his hard-won patience strained as he waited for Rus to reemerge.

Queen Toriel was flipping through a magazine and did not look up as she said, "He may well be a while, Edge, you can sit down."

It was difficult not to pull himself to attention at a mere word from the Queen, though her standards were far more lax than the Guards. Edge did incline his head to her and said politely, "Thank you, your majesty, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to stand."

The Queen did look up from her magazine then. Her eyes were a deeper shade of red than his own eye lights and though she seemed ageless to most, it was the depths of her eyes that gave her away. "It is not all the same to me," she said mildly. "You hovering about is making me nervous. Now, make an old woman happy and sit. We both know it takes some time to act as Judge, Jury, and Executioner."

"He's not an executioner," Edge said shortly. Inwardly, he cringed at defying the Queen’s word, but he could not bear remaining silent. "He takes them to one HP. If that's enough for them to dust, then it's the weight of their sins that kill them, not him."

It was something he told Rus often after a Judgement, late at night in the darkness of their rooms when he woke screaming, clutching at him and Red, sobbing from the terrible memories haunting him that were not his own.

The corner of the Queen’s mouth quirked up and she nodded in acknowledgement, “You’re right, of course. I stand corrected.” She sighed heavily then and set the magazine aside, glossy paper slapping against the tabletop. “No matter how the Judgement ends, it’s difficult for him to manage after, isn’t it.”

It was not a question and Edge did not answer.

“When we were still Underground there would have been a score of Monsters in your position,” she said, sadly. "Tasked with protecting and caring for our Judge, giving him whatever he requires."

Edge stiffened, said nothing, but Toriel would not have been the leader that she was if not for her shrewdness. She chuckled a bit, retrieving her magazine and opening it to an article about easy dinner recipes as she told him, "Have no fear, I'm not considering anything that might change your arrangement and Rus certainly has no complaints. You were both Chosen and that’s the end of it. I daresay no Judge could ask for better Companions. You and your brother are very dedicated to him."

Edge only offered a curt nod. He had little interest in discussing his relationship with Rus with anyone, even or perhaps especially to the Queen.

When the previous Judge passed and Rus was Chosen, what remained of the guard were lined up for a Choosing of their own. They’d all known what the job entailed and while Edge never expected to be Chosen, he’d been ready to service the Judge as required.

He hadn’t been prepared for Rus. Couldn’t have guessed that he’d grow love him as deeply and desperately as he did, soundly rejected the idea of anyone other than himself and Red touching him. The Judge might belong to all Monsters, to the Angel and the Maker, to everyone, but Rus was theirs alone.

The door opening made them both look up as Rus stepped out. No, Edge realized, he was mistaken, it was the Judge who stood before them in incongruous mysticism next to the floral prints on the neutrally painted walls. Utterly emotionless, their voice held none of the vibrancy of Rus, the laughter that was always only a pun away. It was only the Judge who said in low monotone. "It Is Finished."

The Queen stood, but before she could speak, those empty sockets swung to Edge. If they chose, they could see into the very corners of his soul, send every sin he’d ever committed crawling up his spine, pushed him to the very edge of his sanity.

But their face only softened at the sight of him, moving over him without the weight of Judgement.

“Why are you staring at me?” Edge asked boldly. Some would say suicidally, teetering on the line of horrific disrespect.

If anything, that look only softened further, “Because We Love You.”

Then his sockets flickered, pale eye lights reforming to meet Edge's gaze. Only to immediately roll heavenward and Edge lunged forward to catch him as Rus silently folded to the ground.

The queen took a half-step forward with a sound of concern, reaching out.

"I have him," Edge said, hoisting Rus into his arms where he hung limply, his skull lolling against Edge’s shoulder.

“Take him back to his rooms,” Toriel said heavily, and ageless was not how anyone would describe her now. In this moment it seemed as if every one of her years was pressing down upon her. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Edge nodded, turning on his heel to carry Rus away. He was always so terribly light; his low HP was one of the marks of his status as Judge, as did the massive amounts of his available magic, a delicate contrast in power and frailness.

Now he felt almost weightless in Edge's arms, the only heaviness about him were the shadows beneath his sockets. The lone possible saving grace was the lack of dust on the hem of his robes. It could be the one he Judged was still alive, curled up on the floor as they wept beneath the weight of punishment, clinging to the shred of Mercy that allowed them a chance to do better.

The path to their quarters was a direct one with no access for any others. Edge followed it swiftly and the door swung open as he approached, his watchful brother waiting. The moment he walked through, it was closed again, locked and secured; the Judge was never more vulnerable than right after a Judgement.

Edge kept walking to their bedroom which also served as a saferoom. No one would be getting inside and even if they did, the Angel asked for no punishment for what Edge and Red might do in the name of the Judge.

Gently, Edge settled Rus on the bed while Red secured the last door, locks and spells settling into place as he asked, "how’s he doin’?"

"It was a bad one," Edge said gruffly. His unconsciousness was proof of that much. As carefully as he could, Edge began to strip away Rus’s robes. They were easy enough to open despite Rus’s constant complaints about getting tangled up in them. A few simple ties here and there that needed tugged and everything fell open to the bare bones beneath.

Rus shivered and Edge hastened to pull up the blankets, heavy layers of soft coziness, chosen for precisely this. Behind him, he could hear the clink of cups and water pouring, the clatter of the spoon as Red stirred in a healthy dollop of honey with the ease of long-time experience.

Rus’s sockets were fluttering as Red brought the cup over, pale eye lights pausing briefly on Edge, then searching out the one he couldn’t see as Rus tried to roll over, slurring out, “red?”

Steaming cup in hand, Red sat on the edge of the mattress, "right here, honey bear."

Rus grimaced a little, “don' like that one.”

“sorry, sweetheart,” Red smoothed a gentle hand down Rus’s skull, his cracked fingers a stark contrast to smooth, untouched bone. “i’ll hafta make a list of pet names for ya to pick through.”

“you only want to know the ones i hate so you can use them the most,” Rus accused. He almost sounded like his normal teasing self.

“you know me so well,” Red murmured, then louder. “come on, honey, sit up, you need to get somethin’ in you.”

Obediently, Rus did, sipping the tea. As he drank, the blanket slowly slipped down to pool at his pelvis, the tease of it made blatant as he asked, “what if i want something better in me?”

“oh, you are feeling better,” Red chuckled. The two of them moved closer, kneeling on either side of him as Red crooned out, “what do you need, baby?”

"make me feel good." Rus swallowed, a golden flush rising his cheek bones, but he still said, boldly, "both of you. i want both of you. inside me." The delightful mental picture of that made the unsatisfied desire still lingering in Edge’s soul from that afternoon flare hotly, eagerly.

“Whatever you say,” Edge murmured to him, low and throaty, and when the empty cup slipped from Rus’s limp hold, he caught it and set it aside.

Rus was still wobbly-weak, an easily maneuverable rag doll that Edge moved and coaxed into sitting on his lap, facing away from him with Rus straddling his femurs. Before he did anything else, Edge settled one hand to rest somewhat chastely on Rus’s iliac crests, away from the honeyed magic beginning to settle into his pelvis. With the other, he took hold of Rus’s chin, turning his head to take a sweetly charged kiss, exploring the plush magic of his mouth with a gentle tongue.

Their moans were muffled, Rus’s sudden cry caught against Edge’s teeth. Whatever his brother was doing to make the bedsprings creak and Rus squirm must be particularly effective.

An odd number of hands scrabbled for Edge’s fly in unsteady coordination as they loosened his belt, lowered his zipper. The hand that circled his cock trembled, cool, slim fingers drawing him out, guiding him to where Rus is already wet and waiting, his entrance clenching emptily as Edge nudged his way inside.

Tight, wet heat surrounded him and Edge fought for control, resisting the urge to pull Rus fiercely down on his cock, to force his hips to move, riding him relentlessly until Rus cried out, begging and pleading for more as the garbled mess of his words dissolved into incoherent cries. He’d asked for both of them and Edge would give him what he asked for, whatever Rus asked of them.

Halfway inside, Edge paused, licking his teeth and tasting his own sweat as Rus tightened briefly around him, as if his pussy was asking for more without consulting Rus about it. Instead of obliging, Edge reached between Rus’s legs to trace where they were joined. Slickness was trickling down and Edge wetted his fingers, carefully pressing one alongside his cock. The increasing tightness made him groan aloud and even though he knew very intimately otherwise, for a moment it seemed as though even his slender finger won’t fit, much less another cock. He traced the slippery lips coaxingly, persuading them to relax enough for him to push in.

In his lap, Rus sighed and squirmed, his pussy tightening and loosening infinitesimally as Edge inched his finger inside.

Only for his brother to interrupt. His varied skills at patience didn’t tend to extend to Rus and he interjected lazily, “let me, bro.”

Another finger joined his own with far less care, pushing almost roughly inside and Rus cried out, hands scrambling to clutch at Edge’s knees and Edge would have glared at Red for it if he wasn’t abruptly struggling for his own control, trying desperately not to come as Rus panted and whimpered, his pelvis moving helplessly between Edge’s cock and their moving fingers.

It was a difficult stretch, working up a bit more space inside the achingly tight passage. Honey-gold ectoflesh slowly yielding until both their fingers glided with ease.

“think that’s enough, sweetheart.” Red was panting heavily, and Edge wasn’t sure if he truly thought Rus was opened enough to take them both or if he simply couldn’t wait any longer, but Edge didn’t ask, his own limit fast approaching. He pulled out his finger with a slick, obscene sound as Red arranged himself, his bare legs settling overtop of Edge’s as he lined up and began to push in.

The sudden increase of pressure around him made Edge grit his teeth, focusing on holding Rus upright as he whimpered. Rus spread his femurs wider as if he could make more space inside himself that way while Red struggled to force his shaft inside.

There was a round of gasps as the head of his cock pried its way in, the rest of the shaft following abruptly as Red thrust in deeply, then stilled. The three of them sat together, Edge and Red petting Rus’s sweat-slick bones, struggling out soothing words as Rus trembled between them, his face screwed up in a twisted rictus of pain and pleasure. It was difficult to think with the incredible tightness squeezing his cock, the first warnings of orgasm tingling at the base of is spine, and yet, Edge tried, focusing on anything else, on the scraping pressure of his brother’s legs over his own, the prickle of sweat trailing like sins down his spine, fuck, he’d be willing to think of Toriel and her endless teasing of Rus if it helped him keep control.

His patience was well-learned, but it was straining at the end of its leash, even as the pressure surrounding him slowly eased.

“i think…i think i’m okay,” Rus finally whispered. He squirmed a bit, testing, then with almost desperate deliberateness, his pelvis rocking between them as he groaned out, “oh! oh, fuck, yes, please!”

Edge’s position was a difficult one, with Rus and Red’s weight both pinning them down. He was forced to depend on his brother moving, drawing slowly out then back in, finding a rhythm that left Rus quickly trembling on the crest of orgasm, frantic cries spilling into the air around them.

Edge was no better off. The friction of his brother's cock moving against his own was exquisite, unbearable, dragging along the length of his shaft, ridged heads briefly rubbing even as Red thrust back into Rus’s wet, clenching heat. The raggedness of his breathing was loud inside his skull and Edge could only hold on to them both, dimly unaware of whose bones he was gripping painfully as Rus’s cunt went tight around him, rippling and throbbing excruciatingly as he peaked.

He wasn’t going to last, Edge realized abruptly, it was too much, his control was slippery and lost, and he could only groan plaintively, breath hissing between his teeth as he screwed his sockets closed and came into the gloriously hot, wet grip of Rus’s pussy. Bones clattered as he was wracked with a shock of purest bliss, trying to thrust up, to get even deeper despite the weight pinning him.

“oh, fuck,” Red gasped out and even caught up as he was in overwhelming sensation, Edge dimly understood. The heat of his come filling Rus’s pussy was another layer of sensation, leaving him drenched and loosened as Edge’s shaft softened inside him even as Red moved brutally faster.

Barely, he had enough coherence left to fumble a hand between Rus’s spread femurs, feeling down between his legs for the swollen nub of his clit to circle with his thumb. Rus quivered in his arms and he felt back further, careless fingers exploring where Red was still frantically thrusting. A mischievous urge struck him, and Edge circled the base of the shaft with his thumb and forefinger, gripping hard. Immediately, his brother cursed explosively, and Edge felt it both from the inside and out as Red pushed in deeply and held, the blossoming heat of his come spurting thickly against Edge’s shaft making him hiss.

Between them, Rus was sobbing, pleading as he struggled to reach another crest. Red reached for his clit even as Edge guiltily redoubled his efforts, their slippery fingers moving in tandem, exhausted and knowing. It was enough. Rus’s fingers dug into Edge’s femurs painfully, scraping bone even through trousers as his pussy throbbed, tightening almost painfully around overstimulated ectoflesh as he tipped over in a last orgasm.

He slumped almost immediately, held up only by Edge and Red’s arms, barely sighing as they both carefully withdrew and settled him to lay back on the sheets. There were soft cloths on the side table and a bowl of water set into a warmer. Between them, they cleaned the mess from Rus’s bones, tenderly wiping away sweat and the kaleidoscope spatter of their mingled fluids.

Edge thought he was already asleep, any lingering sign of the Judge clinging to him fucked away, and it was only when Rus spoke that he realized otherwise, his voice small and uncertain.

“if i asked you two to kiss, would you?”

The question made Edge still, setting the damp cloth aside as he looked into Rus’s blushing face. His sockets were scrunched deliberately closed, refusing to open even as Edge gently stroked his brow and cheek bones.

He looked at his brother instead, sitting on Rus’s other side. His expression was cool and unreadable, offering him nothing.

“Is that what you want?” Edge asked neutrally. He would, if Rus wished it. He had no particular objection to it; they’d known from the start what this involved. The awkwardness surrounding it had long since faded and truth be told, he loved to watch Red with Rus as he pleasured him with tongue and cock, and knew the sentiment was one Red returned. Sharing Rus was a unique delight, in every form of the word. But while touching each other was perfectly acceptable, neither was it something they usually sought without Rus between them.

“no,” Rus said hurriedly, though it was still too small, too soft. “i only wondered—"

“honey love,” Red interrupted, “i love my bro, but it ain’t the same way as you. i wanna see him fucking you, don’t really want that so much for myself.” Confirming Red felt as he did. Then he surprised Edge by saying. “but i think we can manage a kiss if you want that for your spank bank.”

Rus swallowed audibly, his sockets creeping open. He was obviously wavering between his hopeful wants and his fears that he was asking for something that they didn’t truly want to give. They’d given vows to provide him with whatever he wished, to meet all of his desires, and that was exactly what Rus did not want from them. That truth was only one of many that left Edge helpless against loving him.

He threaded his fingers through Rus’s, bringing their entwined hands up to his mouth to gently kiss his knuckles reassuringly, trying without words to tell him that this wasn’t too much to ask.

Rus still wavered, blinking too hard and too often, before finally giving in, whispering out, “please?”

Anything for you, Edge did not say. He turned to his brother, who was kneeling bare bones on Rus’s other side, his compact frame deliberately relaxed and revealing nothing of the coiled strength held within it. His razor-toothed mouth was quirked in a knowing smile, sockets hooded, and he didn’t move a single inch, forcing Edge to lean in and duck his head to kiss him.

Navigating both their sharp teeth was something of a challenge, but one easily managed, tongues gliding cautiously against each other. His brother tasted of Rus, cloyingly sweet, and beneath it, the earthier spice of his own magic surfaced like a taunt. Almost, Edge wanted to chase that taste, to delve into his brother’s mouth and find more, untainted by Rus’s sweetness.

He resisted the urge. This was for Rus, their Rus, he was watching, and Edge only lingered briefly, boldly sweeping his tongue over Red’s to steal a last discreet taste before drawing away. Their eye lights met in a brief glance before hurrying back to Rus.

Edge cleared his throat, “Was that what you wanted?”

“yeah,” Rus breathed, staring with greedily wide sockets. He blinked, sheepishness flitting across his face, “and if i wasn’t so tired, i’d ask for a kiss of my own.”

Red chuckled and leaned in, brushing his mouth over Rus’s and lingering when his teeth parted. Edge did not wonder if his brother tasted of him, only watched until they reluctantly parted, Red murmuring, “take a nap, butter bear, and when ya wake up, we’ll kiss ya wherever ya want.”

“what does butter bear even mean?” Rus mumbled, but the words were split by an enormous yawn. He reached out for them, hands limply hopeful and they both settled on either side of him, arms settling in a loose tangle as they held him close.

Soon, he slept, his breathing slow and even. Edge lay next to him, awake, and knew his brother was as well, curled up against Rus’s other side. They’d sleep later, when Rus was rested and less vulnerable. He could only hope that there would be no nightmares this time, a tenuous wish for peaceful sleep for his love.

But as he lay there in the dark, Edge couldn’t help wondering what other things Rus might like to see, if he were bold enough to ask.

-fin

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#fontcest #keelywolfe #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #underswap papyrus #underswap #underfell #lemony goodness #papcest #spicyhoney #honeymustard #spicyhoneymustard #bodyguard au

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 13: On Your Left

Summary: Ex- SHIELD Agent Katie Stark and Captain Steve Rogers have been dating for almost a year now, things are going pretty smoothly for once. A chance morning jog introduces them to Sam Wilson, before Steve is called away on a mission which doesn’t go quite according to plan...

Warnings: Smut (NSFW), no under 18s. And they say some bad language words.

A/N: Bonus additional scene- On Va Voir available...

So we are into the Winter Soldier Storyline. I've had LOADS of fun writing this.

Please re-blog if you like and send me any tag requests or suggestions you would like to see (as one shots or part of the main story) going forward by Ask.

End of March/Beginning of April 2014

"Turn it off," Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into. He moved slightly, but it wasn’t fast enough for her liking. "Steve!"

With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.

“Why is it even set?” she grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”

“You know, no one makes you stay here…” he teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.

“You’ve been away for 5 days…I never sleep as well when you’re not here…” she mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.

“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you…” his arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.

“Jerk…” she said. “I mean what time is it anyway?” there was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”

“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”

“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions...” “Big girl…You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.

“Yeah… you’re huge…” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous…”

"Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time…”

Oh fuck this for a game of soldiers…if she was that moody about being woken up Steve was going to do something to remind her exactly why she chose to stay in his bed.

“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning…” he muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.

She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her. Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.

“OK, if you want to actually get up now…” she muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it. “I suggest you stop…” “I hit the snooze button…” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about 8 minutes left.”

“8 minutes?”

“Reckon I only need 5…” he shot back

“You have a very high opinion of yourself…” she replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.

Oh, challenge accepted Doll! He said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.

She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth.

“Easy, baby…” he whispered, his mouth returning to her neck…

4 minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, 2 shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his proposed time by a full 60 seconds. And 60 seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another 60 minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie almost 30 minutes to locate her trainers which she’d eventually found in her car. Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy.

“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the 7 blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”

The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool

“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.

“6.” he said.

She looked at him, frowning. “You did 6 laps…that’s like what? 20 miles?”

“Nearer 22.” He grinned. “You want me to keep your pace?”

She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”

“I do not bitch…” he said, giving her a look. “You bitch like a 14 year old girl…” she said, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”

He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.

It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring 3 times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She'd given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.

Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.

"Hi." a voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.

“Nice day for it!” Katie smiled.

"You normally run this early?" he asked "Haven't seen you around before."

“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” she smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”

He laughed and held out his hand. "Sam Wilson."

I took it and gave it a shake. "Katie Stark.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an "On your left." as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.

Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.

"I never tire of looking at these." she commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.

Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. "On your left."

"On your left."

"Uh-huh. On my left. I got it." Sam called after him as he entered his 5th lap.

Katie didn't even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam's face.

Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder "Don't say it. Don't you say it!"

"On your left."

"Come on!" Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.

Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.

"Are you alright?" Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.

"Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…" Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.

"Need a medic?" he teased.

"I need a new set of lungs." Sam chuckled breathlessly. "Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes."

"Guess I got a late start." He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes at her, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap." he scolded jokingly. "Did you just take it? I assume you just took it."

Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.

"What unit were you with?" Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.

"Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I'm working down at the VA. Sam Wilson." He said motioning for help up.

"Steve Rogers." Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.

"I kind of put that together." Sam says as he tried to catch his balance. "Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing."

"It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help” he said, looking at Katie who smiled. “Good to meet you Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.

"It's your bed right?" Sam called out from behind him.

Steve paused and they both turned back around. "What's that?"

"Your bed, it’s too soft." Sam went on to explain. "When I was over there, I'd sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I'm back home, in my own bed, feels like-"

Steve cut him off. "Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I'm gonna sink right to the floor.”

"How long?" he asked Sam

"Two tours." Sam responded. "You must miss the good old days huh?"

"Well, things aren't so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that's good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna' catch up."

Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. "Marvin Gaye, 1972, 'Troubleman' soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you've missed jammed into one album."

“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”

Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, "I'll put it on the list."

“We can download it later…” she said. He smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.

'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)'

He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.

"Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that's what you wanna call running." He joked extending his hand.

"Oh that's how it is?" Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.

"That's how it is." Steve responded, laughing slightly.

"Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.

"Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil." she quipped.

“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.

"That’s hilarious." he commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, ok?” She took a deep breath. Ever since quitting SHIELD he knew she felt uneasy when he was away.

“Be careful.” she said, as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.

"How you doing?" Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.

"Hey." She responded with a small smile.

"Can't run everywhere." Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.

"No you can't." Sam said and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.

Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.

“Military girlfriend huh?” he teased and she laughed.

“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

********* Turns out Sam was a pretty interesting character. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.

Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.

When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing we had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.

The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone 8pm. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year.

Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn't too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.

******

Steve’s day had been far less enjoyable. The mission, as a whole, had been a success. It had started well, Natasha doing her usual jibing, this time she was ribbing Steve about whether he was going to ask Katie to move in. He had batted off her teasing and told her to concentrate on her job first, and she had. Only it wasn’t the job he had given her. Turns out she had a different mission. One given to her by Fury. He’d been that mad about it all that he hadn’t spoken to the red head all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on.

It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn't too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his.

Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since that damned mission and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment 3 at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.

She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs spread out besides her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked gently as she sat up.

“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “No.” he said, turning away as unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.

“You had a good day?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she called back, “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket, and their first book that was launched little over a month ago had shot off the shelves, selling out in record time. Katie had been overwhelmed and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview her. She had declined all of them until the Stark Board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d kind of enjoyed it.

“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.

“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” she said as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.

“Ouch.” she said softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?” she asked, her eyes on his.

He nodded “Got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”

He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.

“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” he grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” she said stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner…”

This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot water and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the shower and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of sweats and a grey T-shirt.

The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.

“What happened?” she asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.

“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.

“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS. And it wasn’t drifting. It was trespassing."

The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite loaf. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.

“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.” she teased.

“Not at all.” he shook his head. “You know what I think about your cooking.”

He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he kept the bottle of Arnica gel she’d insisted he keep to hand. As he ate she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side, the bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.

It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.

“So did you get the hostages?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered…”

“So what’s wrong, love?”

She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.

“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”

“At Nat? Why?”

“She was given a separate mission, she was tasked with saving SHIELD data off the ship, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done…”

“More secrets” she sighed, feeling a flash of anger “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”

“Tell me about it.” he said, dropping the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but…how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”

“Nat was just doing as she was told.” she said, softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.

“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?” he shook his head

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” she reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin “She has a job to do, same as you, and as for Fury then…well, call him out.”

“Oh I intend to.” Steve said, “I’m seeing him tomorrow morning. After de-brief…”

“He will have a reason, might not be what you wanna hear but at least you’ll know.” she said.

She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind he concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down and then stood up to put the ointment away.

“You want anymore?” she asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.

“Is there any?” he looked at her, hopefully. He did want. He was still hungry.

She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.

“Ok, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” he said, standing up “And that’s an order baby doll.”

“Bossy bastard” she retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Ok, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.

“Won’t be long” he smiled.

Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, headed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind her. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded. He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.

“When you told me to go to bed…” she murmured, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” he practically purred into her neck.

“Didn’t say that” she replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced over her hip, hand flattening as he crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching. He continued to kiss and caress her neck.

“Steve…” she moaned softly, her tone pleading “I want you…”

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah…please Stevie…” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He gently guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He continued slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands pinning hers to the pillow above her head, causing her to surrender to him completely.

He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her gently. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her “That’s it baby girl…” whispering in her ear.

And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.

“Love you.” she said softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.

“Love you too, so damned much…” he said, rubbing his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest. His arm curled round her, his hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.

“What time are you in tomorrow?” she asked gently, hand tracing absentmindedly over his chest.

“Half 9…” he said, fingers still caressing her back.

“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” she said through her yawn.

“That so?” “mmmhmmm”

“You know, you’d make a good little housewife…” he said, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget that clusterfuck of a mission…

Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.

“Night soldier.” she whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck. As gently as she could she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be 25 past 7, 5 minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could. Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, he didn’t stir when she returned following her shower and was still out of it when she was dressed and unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She made a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made then previous day ready to bake in the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.

At about 8:15, there was still no sign of Steve so she decided to go and wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…

Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.

“Hey…” that soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.

“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.

“It’s almost 8:15.”

He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” she said so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “Coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” he smiled, rolling over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” she teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.

“Always you doll.” he murmured. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past 4 months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on…it was almost normal, what people with normal 9 to 5 jobs did. He wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.

“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.

If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there thinking about it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear when he walked in.

“I know!” her tone was one of utter excitement “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”

He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York. He felt his mouth drop open at the image in front of him. Katie was stood, against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot resting against the wall, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, and a low cut white blouse.

“Yeah, I know Tony…” she was speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart as her elbows rested on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.

There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just 29 she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after 30 seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.

Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first 3 months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.

Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over 50% first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD…) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.

When asked if she would indulge us a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…

We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America?

“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” she replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” she said, the blush spreading from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus”

Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was a shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala. Katie was in that red dress he loved, laughing at something and he was simply pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. A soft, understated PDA, but a reminder to everyone (in particular Mr Wandering Hands) who had eyed her up and down as they had entered the room that she was his. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen.

When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.

“I owe everything I have to Tony.” she said, simply “he brought me up from the age of 7, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”

We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.

“How he found out wasn’t ideal…” No shit! Steve found himself snorting as he continue to read “But once he had read Steve the Big Brother riot act, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”

Do they get on? She laughs “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s 6 and even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”

Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last 2 years or so.

Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends more than 30 seconds in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.

“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.

Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think its fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up…are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” she said, rubbing her nose against his as he smiled.

“I know baby.” he said, giving her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”

Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.

“I’ll be back at mine” she said as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” he smiled “And we can do something this afternoon.”

She smiled “Sounds perfect”

*********