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indigosunsetao3 · 7 months

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Would It Be Enough?

Chapter 12 - Sketches and Dresses

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Rated E - Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Original FMC 8.9k words - AO3 Link

The issue with only being able to bring so many things on your contract job was Emma had only packed for one type of weather; hot. Ukraine this time of year rarely saw temperatures above forty and it could get well below freezing at night. Emma had packed all the warmest things she had and also dug her credit cards out from her long-forgotten wallet. She’d have to make time to stop and buy a few things, a jacket, and a long-sleeved shirt at a minimum. After one last review of everything, hoping it would be enough because it wasn’t specified how long they would be gone, Emma clipped her pistol into her thigh holster and tossed it in the bag with a few magazines then walked out of her room with her duffle bag swung over her shoulder.

Even though it was only six almost everyone else was already up and out of their rooms, coffee cups were lined up on the counter and Gaz was busy digging out sugar and milk. Moving to deposit her duffel with the rest in a pile by the door Emma walked over gratefully grabbed herself a cup and made up the drink before leaning on the counter. “How was movie night?” She asked as she cupped her hands to hold her drink, “sorry I couldn’t join just after everything that happened yesterday, I needed to be alone for a bit.”

“No need to apologize, I get it,” Gaz answered. At least he wasn’t being awkward around her, hopefully, that would stay the same when Soap and Ghost joined them. Their doors were still shut and they hadn’t made an appearance yet. “Alex fell asleep halfway through,” Gaz replied as he worked on his own drink. “But Price joined us toward the end. Not sure when Ghost and Soap got in, we all went to bed and they still weren’t back yet,” he shrugged. “Plenty of time to sleep on the plane if you can block out the noise. It’s almost a six-hour flight, hope you have a book or something to do,” Gaz finished with a grin.

“You know, I brought a book series with me when I came over here and I still haven’t even finished book one,” Emma confessed. “I just never have the time to read anymore. Too busy or too tired when I’m not busy. I value sleep over stories I guess,” she grinned, “I’ll probably have to start book one over.”

“Is that where Sleeper comes from then?” A familiar voice asked from behind Emma. Soap was standing there and prepping his coffee, black with heavy sugar, as he eavesdropped on their conversation. Emma hadn’t even heard him emerge from his room but both he and Ghost were there, Ghost depositing both his and Soap’s bags onto the growing pile of items.

“Sort of,” Emma answered, her eyes darting between Ghost and Soap before landing back on Soap again. She had so many questions as to what happened between them but that moment was not the time to ask. “I’m a heavy sleeper,” she began to explain, which earned a smirk and nod from Soap, he would know after that first night. “And I can fall asleep pretty much anywhere too, and quickly. I would catch catnaps between training or classes. You could find me against walls, on benches, behind boxes, one time even up on a catwalk,” she laughed a little bit before taking a sip of her coffee. “I pretty much slept anywhere I could even if it were for only five minutes. If I went missing at group gatherings, my friends knew they could find me holed up somewhere.”

“You and Alex are peas in a pod,” Gaz answered. “Man falls asleep if he sits still for longer than five minutes. I don’t think he’s ever made it through a movie.”

“Not true,” Alex chimed in from the couch, “I just don’t make it through movies you pick, and you never let anyone else pick. Your British stuff could put anyone to sleep.”

“I’m not watching some American action movie. All you Americans like to do is blow things up and look like models while doing it,” Gaz shot back with a roll of his eyes.

“So, you do think I’m pretty then. I see the way you look at me,” Alex teased before catching the breakfast bar that Gaz lobbed at his head. Gaz quickly went over to the couch with his own breakfast and took a heavy seat on the couch next to Alex, throwing his feet up on the table while he ate.

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Emma said as she looked over at Soap. She noticed that he had a butterfly stitch on his eyebrow and his lip was split and still a bit swollen in the corner. So, he had gone to the hospital at some point the evening before. She couldn’t see Ghost’s nose under his mask but it had been bleeding pretty good the night before so hopefully he had gotten it looked at. “But action movies are supposed to be blowing things up, impossible scenarios, and good-looking men and women,” she finished. Alex pointed at her over the back of the couch in an exclamation that said ‘see, he wasn’t the only one that enjoyed those types of movies.’

“I’m not disagreeing,” Soap answered with a grin, “you already know my opinion on British television, too dry.” Gaz turned his head over the back of the couch at that and narrowed his eyes at Soap, but didn’t say anything as he turned back around again.

Ghost and Price had made their way over to the counter now to grab their own coffee and Emma sidestepped closer to Soap. She didn’t want to say anything out loud but instead just raised her eyebrow in a questioning look, darting her eyes over at Ghost to ask the question quietly. Things seemed okay between the two of them, considering Ghost had carried Soap’s bag out for him and Ghost himself was having a casual conversation with Price and Crane. Soap caught her look and just mouthed the words ‘later’. Fair enough, she didn’t really want to discuss any of that with an audience and even though Ghost was talking to others she was certain he’d listen in.

By the time everyone had finished eating and cleaned up, it was time to head out on their ride to the airfield which was about thirty minutes away. Price informed them all that they would be traveling with transport of personnel and supplies to a base in Ukraine about two hours outside of Kiev then they would be driving the rest of the way. Their cover was they were embassy workers, specifically coming for humanitarian relief from the recent civil unrest. They would head to the safe house that afternoon to set up and debrief before beginning work that evening.

It was odd, to say the least, to see everyone dressed in such a casual way as they piled out of the truck that was full of other military personnel in their uniforms. The whole 141 had jeans and sneakers on, pistols that were usually strapped to their legs nowhere to be seen, and t-shirts. Price had even left his usual hat at the base, or in his bag, and the rest of the men had actually styled their hair. None of them looked the part of a lethal killer at first glance, though their size and mere presence in the area gave the air of it. People at the base even opted to give them a bit of space, obviously sensing that maybe the group wasn’t exactly what they said they were.

Emma was even treated the same for her association with them, though one brave solider offered to help her with her bags as the team moved off to go check in. Price had informed her she had a full bag of medical supplies at her disposal that he had commandeered from the hospital. The bag itself was almost as large as her and when she hefted it out of the truck when they got to the airstrip, she almost dropped it from the weight and everything shifting inside. “Did they pack me the whole emergency room,” she muttered as she moved to swing it up on her back.

“Let me help you ma’am,” the man offered and he swooped in to grab the medical bag before Emma could answer. He was young, a fresh recruit from the looks of him and how he carried himself. “Shouldn’t leave a lady to lug all of this,” he said with a small smile as he swung the pack onto his back, his eyes darting over to where the team had walked away. “I take it you’re the embassy crew headed to Ukraine?”

“Ah, yes actually,” Emma answered as she bent down picked up her much lighter bag, and draped the strap across her body. ��Are you stationed there?” She asked as they started to walk toward the plane. She had no need to go join the men checking in, they had her fake identification papers, but she did glance over to where the rest of the taskforce was talking to the pilots. She was expecting to see them exchanging papers, maybe having a casual conversation, but what she found instead was Soap staring at her. He wasn’t subtle, he wasn’t even trying to hide it, as he crossed his arms across his chest and just watched her with head slightly cocked. Emma swallowed, daring to give him a small smirk, before turning her attention back to the man helping her. Soap could have helped her with the bag if he had wanted, but he didn’t and now he’d get to watch someone else assist her.

“I am, my first deployment actually,” he said sounding a bit proud, but Emma could see he was also nervous. “Before I joined, I never even left the country and now I’ve been to three different ones in less than a week,” he grinned before gesturing for her to step up the ramp first. “Have you traveled much? I mean, I guess with the embassy you must have,” he was rambling a bit as they sidestepped some crates to head further into the plane for their seats.

“I have,” Emma answered, “I’ve been to quite a few places actually. I was in the Air Force when I was younger, I was a medic,” she explained, careful to not shed too much information about herself since she was there under a false background. “Helped me join the embassy when I got out,” she finished before they stopped at some seats. The man, whose last name was Newman by the patch on his uniform, lowered her medical bag and stuck it under a row of seats, tucking it safely behind the cargo nets. Emma bent down and dug her book and large ear-covering headphones to help block out the plane noise, out of her bag before shoving it next to the medical bag. “Any idea what you’d like to do once you get out? Or are you a career man?” She inquired as she pulled the headphones around her neck and took a seat.

“Oh, I’m not sure yet,” he replied taking the seat right next to her, Soap was going to love this. “My whole family has been in the service, that’s actually how my parents met,” he grinned. “My sister just finished eight years and is in school now working on her master's. I may make a career out of it, school’s never been my thing. My dad was the same.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Emma answered with a smile before she looked back toward the plane entrance to see if the team was boarded yet. She couldn’t see down the ramp, there were crates and other items in the way, but more and more people were filing on and taking up the seats. If they didn’t hurry, they were all going to be sitting separately, there weren’t many seats set up for this flight and they were filling up rather quickly. “What’s your name?” Emma asked after a moment, “I’m Emma by the way.”

“Sam,” the man replied before his eyes darted up over Emma’s head to take in the people that had just arrived. Emma turned to find Soap leading the group past the crates, his bag gripped tight in his right hand as he held it over his shoulder. He was continuing to stare, though he now had a mischievous grin on his face as he walked over to where Emma and Sam sat. Emma was determined to not let him ruin the nice conversation she was having with an obviously anxious young man.

“Don’t mind them,” she stated quickly turning back to Sam, “they’re all bark and no bite,” she continued, giving a small eye-roll for emphasis. Sam still hadn’t looked away from the group though and his eyes had widened a bit before Soap spoke.

“I don’t bite because you haven’t asked Lass,” Soap said as he sat down in the seat right next to Emma, shoving his own bag underneath right next to hers. “I’m always willing to try anything,” he winked at her before looking over at Sam and extending his hand. “John,” he stated as a way of introduction, they weren’t using call signs here being that they weren’t supposed to be military.

Emma felt the butterflies in her stomach at Soap’s words and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from biting her lip. He knew exactly what he was doing and she was going to have to sit here with that thought for the duration of the flight.

“Sam,” Sam replied, taking his hand and shaking it. At that point the rest of the group lined up down the row, each taking up a seat and digging out their own inflight entertainment. Gaz had brought his music and headphones; the rest had a combo of music or books as well. Sam was watching all of them carefully, “you’re all embassy workers?” His voice was a little disbelieving as he took them all in, especially Ghost in his face mask. While it didn’t have the signature skull markings on it and was just plain black, it still stuck out.

“Aye,” Soap answered, letting his accent roll off his tongue heavily. “That one there’s our translator,” he pointed to Alex who gave a friendly wave, “boss down on the end. The mask is, well, he’s our security,” Soap smirked to himself enjoying his little game. “Rest of us are just regular old workers, except this lady,” he patted Emma lightly on the thigh, but then never removed his hand, the weight of his palm sent a wave of heat through Emma but she didn’t betray anything on her face. “With all the civil unrest and some emergency situations, they needed some more medical personnel.”

“She was saying she was a medic in the Air Force,” Sam explained with a small nod, his eyes darting to where Soap still hadn’t removed his hand from Emma’s leg. Catching the look Soap squeezed his hand lightly, as if showing Sam exactly what was going on here.

“Yes, well, I continued outside of the Air Force and got my degree. I’ve been working for the embassy since as a medical consultant,” Emma answered, her eyes cutting to Soap in the corners, but she kept her focus on Sam. “I go where they send me. I just finished a job down in Africa a few months ago, thought I would be home for a little while but here we are. So, if you enjoy traveling and decide not to make a career out of the military, it’s always an option.” She smiled nicely at Sam but kept her hands firmly curled around the book in her lap, the fingers digging into the spine as Soap dared to slide his hand about an inch up her thigh.

Sam opened his mouth to say something else when someone called out to him a row over. It looked like all of his friends were staring at the situation and one of them quickly gestured for him to come join them. Without even looking Emma knew Soap was smirking from ear to ear at the situation he had caused. “I should go,” Sam said then suddenly stood up, straightening out his shirt. “It was nice talking with you,” he added looking at Emma and barely glancing at Soap.

“Bye Sam,” Soap called and Emma nudged him hard in the side with her elbow after Sam had turned and hustled away. She could feel Soap holding in his laugh and Emma rounded on him once Sam was out of earshot.

“That was incredibly rude,” she hissed, “he was only being polite. He carried my bag on which none of you offered to help,” she leaned and glared at the rest of the group who also looked like they were busting to laugh.

“He was being polite because you’re the prettiest thing he’s probably seen in a month,” Soap answered her. “And he was hoping you’d find him just as cute and nice,” he taunted before finally laughing. “I know, I was that boy at one point,” he added, “any girl stepped onto the base and we were all fighting for their attention.”

“You still didn’t need to run him off, I can hold my own,” Emma answered before she batted his hand away from her leg. “He’s nervous about his first deployment, he didn’t say it but I could tell. And none of you helped that,” she leaned around Soap again to give them all a look before sitting back in her chair.

“Ah, it’s all in good fun,” Soap said as he looked up to see Sam and his friends looking over at them. Soap gave them a little wave and they suddenly were all looking around at something else having been caught in their staring. “He’ll learn to be smoother about talking to women over time, he’s still green.”

“Oh yes, and you are so smooth yourself,” Emma answered as she moved to crack open her book. The ramp on the plane was shutting now and the propellers were starting up so it was beginning to get loud.

“I won you over, didn’t I?” Soap asked though he leaned over to say it in her ear. Emma wasn’t sure if he did that because it was getting loud inside the cargo area or if he wanted to tease her. Either way, it worked and she felt goosebumps breakout down the back of her neck at his breath on her ear.

She didn’t answer him as she moved to pull her headphones on to block out the sound of the engine and everything starting to rattle. Even with the headphones on she could still hear how loud it was and she saw as other people were breaking out their own ear covers, including Soap. Determined to read Emma lifted her book into her eyesight and crossed one leg over the other as the plane began its taxi. It wasn’t long before she felt them lift into the air and while she had flown plenty of times the sudden lurch always made her uneasy for a moment. She glanced over at Soap who was leaning back in his own seat with his arms crossed over his chest and his head back completely at ease. He was apparently opting to sleep for the flight as was Ghost.

Emma made it a few chapters before the hum of the plane and the light vibrations started to rock her to sleep. It was just like driving in a car, if she was a passenger she was out within the hour of the drive starting. Telling herself she was just going to rest her eyes she pressed her thumb into the book and flipped it shut, leaning her head back on the seat. She saw out of the corner of her eye the rest of the guys had done the same, Price’s head hanging so far forward on his chest she didn’t know how he could breathe like that. Scooting herself down a bit Emma shut her eyes and felt herself drift off before she could even really comprehend what was happening.

Sometime later she was awoken as the plane took a dip, they had hit turbulence. Emma felt her head loll off what it was resting on and a hand gently pushed her shoulder back so she stayed in her seat. Blinking a few times she took in her surroundings, a bit disoriented, to find she was leaning over to the side and her head was resting on Soap’s shoulder. Her forgotten book was tucked safely under his thigh and he had draped his repaired jacket over her lap.

“How long was I out?” Emma asked before realizing there was no way he could hear her over his headphones. He probably didn’t even realize she was awake yet because he hadn’t looked over at her as he absentmindedly secured her back in her seat when she had slipped. Instead, his concentration was on the sketch he was currently working on in the journal-sized notebook in his hands. She had seen the notebook before, seen him taking notes in meetings with it, or had it out on the couch when they were relaxing in the evening.

She never pried into what he was doing but she dared to look now to find the page on the left was full of little sketches. The page he was currently working on had a drawing of her, asleep on his shoulder and how she looked from his angle. Her hair was obstructing most of her face, the overly large headphones setting it all askew. He had been able to see her parted lips as she breathed though and how her face was perfectly relaxed in her slumber. He thankfully hadn’t added on the drool that she was suddenly very self-consciously afraid was there. Emma adjusted a little bit as she watched his hands work the pencil over the finishing touches of the shading of her lips when he peered down to find her eyes open.

Soap grinned before reaching over to pull one of her headphones off her ear, “go back to sleep. We’ve still got about two hours to go,” he explained before setting the earpiece gently back down on her. He didn’t give her a chance to protest before he went back to work, glancing over at her every once in a while, to make sure he was getting the piece right. Emma didn’t close her eyes though; she was too busy watching and grinning to herself at the fact he had chosen to draw her. It was a simple gesture but it seemed extremely intimate at the same time. His drawing skills were a bit surprising, she never picked up on the fact he would draw she assumed it was just notes or doodling during meetings.

When he finished, he tucked his pencil into the small loop in the book to hold it there before he pushed the notebook into her hands. Emma sat up at that and gave him a questioning look to which he leaned over and pulled the headphone back again. “Take a look if you’re interested, nothing to hide in there,” he stated before letting go of the earpiece and stood up. Emma watched him stretch before he sidestepped down the aisle to walk toward the front of the plane to probably find a bathroom or just move around a bit. They had been sitting for hours now and Emma knew her back was going to be stiff by the time they landed.

Looking around to see if anyone else was watching, they weren’t, she finally dared to crack open the well-worn leather journal. She found that the leather outside was just a cover, he must have had it for years, transferring it from notebook to notebook as they filled up. Inside the pages were stuffed with small notes, scribbles, numbers that made no sense to her, dates and times, or random words. But there were also drawings, tons of drawings. Some were quick basic sketches of people or animals, sometimes buildings or even plants. He had a few schematics of what she was guessing were buildings he worked in but as she flipped through, she spotted familiar things. There were a few of the 141 in there, their faces so lifelike Emma looked up at their sleeping forms to compare them before she continued to flip through.

As she got further along, she found the first sketch of her. She faced sideways to him, her face turned to look ahead of her with her hair pulled back into a tight bun. He had captured the tight look in her eyes, she was concentrating on something, and her hand was on a table taking notes. It must have been during a meeting or some sort of intel training that Alex was putting on, something that Soap didn’t need to concentrate on so he decided to draw instead. Emma grinned as she ran her fingers over it before flipping the page to find another sketch of her at the gun range from behind. Her hair was tied in a braid down her back and Gaz was there as well instructing her, she was in a shooting stance and the gun holster on her thigh was snapped open as if she had just pulled her gun from it.

She continued to flip through and as she got further along sketches of her started to make more frequent appearances. Her lounging on the couch after a long day, working in the gym, standing with her oversized helmet on glaring at him from behind her scarf, curled up asleep in a lounge chair. But mixed in were other sketches from Soap’s life. Ghost’s mask, the symbol for the 141, a random military truck, some sort of gun, and finally she found a self-portrait. It was rough, like he had started on it then never went back to smooth everything out. She sat and stared at it for a while, her eyes taking in all the angles and shadows, how his mohawk laid to one side and curled slightly at the ends, he had a cut on his cheek when he had done it and the scar by his eyebrow was prominently outlined. She was engrossed in it when Soap finally came back and took his seat next to her, leaning over to see what she was looking at.

Emma pulled her headphones off and looked at Soap, obviously portraying a look of surprise and awe. “That’s not even my best work,” Soap scoffed at her reaction, “it’s not even finished.” He moved to flip the page so she would move on from it but Emma stopped him and held the page down with her fingers gently.

“I think it’s my favorite,” Emma stated and she saw the look on his face, “I’m serious. It’s raw but just something about it,” she ran her finger down the jaw before looking back up at Soap. She had never seen him blush, and she doubted she would, but the look on his face was very close. “You’re really talented Johnny,” she stated knowing no one could hear her use his name, “I mean it. These are incredible,” she flipped back to the one of her on the shooting range pointing out the shading and shadows.

“I’ll show you my favorite. And it’s actually a good one compared to your favorite,” Soap teased after a moment before gently taking the book from her hand and flipping forward a few pages. He stopped and looked over it for a second before handing the book back to her. This sketch took up both pages and Emma gasped a bit as she took it in. It was of her again. She was lying on the couch on her stomach with her chin resting on her hands, which were laid flat on the cushions, her gaze looking up at him. She had a smile on her lips that reached her eyes and her hair was hanging loose around her face and down her shoulders. It was nighttime because she had her pajamas on and her socked feet were dangling over the couch arm.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma stated after a moment of looking it over before looking back at Soap again. He had a genuine smile on his face, one that someone had when they were full of pride in their own work and enjoyed the praise. “When did you draw this?” She asked turning back to look at it again.

“I’ve worked on it for a while,” he shrugged, “but I started it about a week after you signed your contract and agreed to stay on.” He gestured for her to continue, willing to share this intimate part of him with her. It was enough to give Emma a pleasurable squirm in her stomach, making her wish they were alone before she sat back and continued to flip through the pages slowly. She leaned up against his arm a bit as she admired everything and Soap peered over looking between the work and her face before shutting his eyes peacefully and settling into a nap. Going through the artwork had taken up the rest of the trip and Soap awoke when the pilot came over the intercom to announce their descent.

Price was the first off the plane to get their transport to Kiev. It was a plain black van that could fit them all, albeit tightly, so they wouldn’t get separated. Emma took advantage of the few minutes they had before they piled into the van and stretched herself out. Her back was tight and she could feel the discomfort in her hips as she pushed herself into runner stretch, groaning a bit at the tug in her thighs. Soap had carried her medical bag for her and when Price rolled around with the van, he tossed it in the trunk as did everyone else with their stuff.

“Couldn’t have sprung for anything bigger?” Gaz asked as he peered into the very tight quarters. The van wasn’t much bigger than something you would take as quick transport to the airport. Ghost had taken the front passenger seat without anyone trying to fight him for it and Price was driving, so that left the rest of them to figure it out.

“Biggest they had,” Price said as he turned around to look at them all climbing in. Emma immediately went to the back row, being the shortest on the team she could curl herself in a bit tighter. Soap immediately joined her, his body barely fitting into the tight space but he made it work. Gaz had the row in front of them to himself, a smirk on his face as he stretched out with his legs on the seat, then Alex and Crane each took up a captain’s chair behind Price and Ghost. “All set?” Price asked and everyone gave their confirmation before he drove off.

The Ukraine landscape was vastly different than what she had been looking at for the past few months, it was a nice change. The land was lush and green with rolling hills and mountains in the distance covered in snow and Emma leaned her arm on the window to look out as they drove. She missed the fresh crisp air, it reminded her of home, and it was nice to not be sweating from the moment you woke up until you went to sleep.

Emma shifted a bit to better lean her head against the window when Soap’s hand gently slid into hers, threading their fingers together. Emma grinned and squeezed his hand, looking over at him to find him watching her before he glanced off at a window on his other side. Price had asked for them to be inconspicuous and Emma knew Ghost was not pleased with their situation, so she was okay with being lowkey like this. Enjoying one another’s company and touch without being obvious, like it was their own little secret tucked all the way in the back of the van. After a while Soap rubbed his thumb gently over her knuckles and Emma shifted her leg to rest against his for the duration of the ride.

As they got closer to Kiev everyone seemed to be a little more alert, Soap slipping his hand out of Emma’s to sit up straighter and watch the area around them. While the city itself looked okay in the distance, driving up was another story. There were destroyed houses, people in the streets cleaning and other people watching them closely as they drove through. The political landscape had been a mess for years and Russian interference was not helping. Emma listened as Price explained everything that was happening and as the men around her asked questions. They didn’t venture too far into what they were doing there, waiting for the safety of the safe house just in case there were any bugs.

The safe house itself was a very small two-story house on the outskirts of the city. It looked rundown on the outside and when they all climbed out a feral cat darted under the back porch that was sagging on one side. Price ushered them all in and once inside he locked the door and peered out the windows to make sure they weren’t followed but the streets were empty. The inside of the house wasn’t much better than the outside, the kitchen tiles and walls were tinged yellow from years of someone smoking inside, and the carpet had very questionable stains and was missing in some spots as if someone just cut chunks out of it. The furniture was dingy and Emma toed at an old-looking cardboard box, afraid something may be alive inside of it.

“It’s not much but it’s secure,” Price stated before pointing at the bookshelf. Alex immediately went over and pulled it off the wall like a door, and once opened the inside revealed a bunch of surveillance equipment, monitors, and gear. Alex pulled over a chair that had seen better days before he started working on logging in and starting everything up. “Gear is upstairs,” Price stated and Crane and Gaz bolted for the steps, shoving one another playfully as they went to check out what they had. “You can go through and set up all your medical stuff in the spare room over there,” Price gestured to what must have been the dining room at some point.

“Do you think I’m going to need it? I thought this was just information gathering,” Emma inquired as Soap grabbed the bag for her to lug it into the next room.

“Always be prepared,” Ghost said simply, “best to know what you have to work with just in case something doesn’t go to plan” It was the first words he had spoken to her since the night before, they weren’t clipped or angry either. It was fairly civil for him and it was jarring enough that Emma just turned around and walked into her area to start sorting through everything.

It took her well over an hour to pull everything out and get it in some sort of semblance of order, making a mental inventory and checking the packing list. They had provided her with pretty much everything she would need in an emergency situation to keep someone alive until they got to the hospital. It even went as far as a small portable AED and quick set cast for a broken bone. She was zipping all of the pockets shut now that the bag was empty when Price called them all back into the living room to start handing out files for all of their marks and discussing tactics.

Emma took her folder and flipped it open to find the left side was full of pictures of a man and the right had all his information. Mikhail Lebedev, heir to a very wealthy Russian family that owned an arms dealing factory that had exclusive contracts with the Russian military. He was a single businessman, almost a decade older than her, known for being a playboy that liked to flash his money. He was suspected with helping push Russian agendas among the rebels in Ukraine and even supplying them with money and weapons. Emma pulled a face as she flipped through the pictures, he wasn’t bad looking at all with his broad shoulders and head of dark curly hair, but she could tell by just looking at his body language he was full of himself. He knew he could get what he wanted when he wanted it and he never took no for an answer.

“I hope you slept on the plane,” Price stated as he looked at Emma while everyone flipped through their files. Alex had a pile of all of them since he was staying behind to coordinate and keep tabs. “There’s a big meet-up this evening hosted by Mikhail. Laswell secured us an in to get into the club,” Price stated before pointing at Gaz, Soap, and Crane, “they will be going in with you, their own marks will be in attendance but we’re mostly concerned about Mikhail tonight, we think there may be a deal going down in the next few days. Gaz will be playing your security guard, Soap and Crane are your close friends,” all of them nodded though Emma was confused about what role she would be playing if she needed security.

“You’re a wealthy American heiress on a tour of Europe before your marriage,” Price explained and Emma’s eyebrows shot straight up, this was news to her. Since when was she going to be playing the bait and interacting with her mark. “He likes money and things he can’t have,” Price continued before he dug around in his jacket pocket and tossed a bank deposit bag onto the table in front of Emma. “You don’t have to do anything you are uncomfortable with,” he stated as Emma pulled the bag toward her and opened it up to reveal a large stack of cash in Ukrainian currency as well as jewelry, a different passport, and other various documents. “We just need you to keep him sufficiently distracted while the rest of them work the room, see if you can get anything out of him. Ghost is going to work on trying to get into his penthouse to plant a few bugs while Mikhail’s…busy.”

“What am I going to do with this?” Emma asked as she held up a few of the bills, “I don’t think he would want my money if he’s as rich as you say,” she continued though she had a feeling where this was going.

“You need to look and dress the part,” Price answered simply and Emma finally dared a glance at Soap. His face was unreadable as he took in his instructions but she could see his hands were curled into loose fists on the table. This was part of the job though; this is what they both signed up for and Price had made it very clear that the job could not be affected by their feelings. “There are some clothes upstairs in the master bedroom already, Laswell had them sent. I have no idea what she picked for you, but hopefully, they are warm. There’s a chance it’ll snow tonight,” Price looked pointedly at Ghost who merely nodded. Snow meant footprints so he would have to cover his tracks.

“If I’m supposed to catch his eye, I doubt the clothes will be very warm,” Emma muttered as she pulled out a very expensive looking diamond bracelet and ran it through her fingers. This was probably worth more than what she made on a single contract job. “I suppose I’ll go get ready?” Emma asked, sounding braver than she felt. She couldn’t back down now, she had been training for months for this and they were depending on her to get the work done. She could flirt and flash a little skin to keep Mikhail busy while the guys worked their own marks. Plus, she was due to be ‘married’ so there shouldn’t be any expectation from Mikhail of her, though Price’s comment about him liking things he couldn’t have stuck out in her mind.

When no one said anything to her Emma pushed out from her chair, tucking the file and bank deposit bag of items under her arm, and headed up the creaky stairs with her personal bag. The house was cold as she made her way to the master, which mercifully was actually nice and clean compared to the rest of the house though Emma wouldn’t be surprised if there were still a few mice or roaches lurking in the corners. Finding the closet Emma pulled it open and stared at the clothes Laswell had sent for all of them, a mix of dresses for her and formal wear for the men. There were a bunch and she had an uncomfortable feeling she was going to be playing this heiress for more than one night.

“For fucks sake,” Emma breathed as her fingers danced over the satin and silk of the dresses. None of them left much to the imagination and she picked a bright pink one off the hanger and held it up before quickly putting it back with a solid ‘no’ muttered under her breath. Some of the dresses were short cut and tight, obviously meant for the club scene but others were floor length and elegant, meant for nice dinners or galas. The only formal dresses she had worn in her life were for school dances or the Air Force ball. All of her dresses were off the rack from local department stores but these just oozed designer made, custom. “I’m going to feel so out of place,” she stated to herself as she tried to choose what to wear that night.

Overwhelmed by the dresses, Emma decided to get her hair and makeup done first, which she could do while she mused over in her mind what to wear that night. In the bathroom, she found stacks of different makeup and hair products and she groaned looking over all of it. It had been so long since she put on a full face of makeup or even curled her hair, she would be surprised she’d remember how but she needed to look like she did this effortlessly every day. So, she got to work. Emma used the foundation she found to cover up bruises and marks she thought would be seen under her clothes, though she decided that maybe a few wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave a bit visible. Maybe Mikhail liked women who could take a few hits or acted like they enjoyed that type of thing. He looked like he would, the smug bastard.

It took her a while to primp and clean herself, lotioning up her skin, pulling her hair this way and that to get it to curl just right then spraying everything to set. If it weren’t for the circumstances, she may have been happy with how she looked, it did look like she was going out on a very fancy date. Even the undergarments she had found felt luxurious under the bathrobe that she had plucked off the bathroom door and pulled on. At least Laswell appreciated the work that went into getting ready and made sure she was comfortable while doing it.

One more pause in the mirror Emma stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself as she twisted a curl back and pinned it to frame her face. Hearing someone outside of the bathroom door in the bedroom Emma paused and tightened the belt around her robe before walking out. She found Soap sitting on the bed and he gave a low whistle as he took her in, his hands finishing up the buttons of his shirt.

“Lass…Gaz is going to have his hands full keeping everyone off of you,” he stated as he moved to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, folding the cuffs in a slow deliberate manner. He was dressed nicely as well; black slacks and a simple dark blue button-down shirt that he had left the collar undone. His shoes were shined dress shoes, forgoing the usual boots or sneakers, and he had trimmed up his beard and was freshly shaved as well. Seeing him like that took everything Emma had to just not drop the robe there and jump him, especially with the way his eyes ran over her in an almost possessive manner.

“I’m more worried about all the women with you,” Emma noted as she turned to the closet to finally pick out a dress. “I’ll at least have Gaz running interference but you’ll be thrown to the wolves,” she said as she mused between the red and black number, turning them this way and that on their hangers. She would have felt much more comfortable in the floor-length numbers but she knew that wasn’t practical tonight, and not the point of it either. She needed to show some skin, catch eyes, and keep those eyes distracted.

“I’ll be watching you all night, no one else is going to hold my gaze like you,” Soap said quietly as he came to stand behind her with one hand on her hip, the other reaching around to look at the dresses himself. “I won’t be able to concentrate,” he breathed into her ear which made her shiver slightly and lean back into him. He ran his forefinger and thumb over the different materials before pulling the short dark blue dress out, similar to the color shirt he was wearing. “This one,” he stated, deciding for her and handing her the dress. Emma nodded took it from him and moved to head to the bathroom to change but Soap grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her back to him.

Emma felt her breath catch as he twisted her back around to face him again. She tilted her head up to him, arms hung loosely at her sides, waiting for him to continue. Soap didn’t say a word as he undid the belt of her robe, never breaking eye contact with her, and let the fabric fall open slowly to reveal her dark lingerie underneath. She caught the eye flare as he pushed the robe off her shoulders and Emma let the fabric fall until it caught in her elbows.

“Did Laswell do this to torture me?” Soap groaned as his fingers trailed lightly over the material covering her breasts. The lace wasn’t doing much as far as coverage but undergarments that went under these types of dresses weren’t meant to be modest. Soap's fingers splayed against one breast and squeezed gently, causing Emma to gasp, before he slid his fingers down her bare stomach to toy with the elastic band of her underwear on her hip. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as he glanced down to the garters on her thighs that were holding up her stockings with delicate little clips. He swallowed hard, as if to restrain himself, before grabbing her hips with both hands and pulling her tight against him.

“If you weren’t all done up already, I’d have you bent over that bed right now,” he stated, leaning down to nuzzle the side of his face against hers so he could whisper in her ear. “Test out how quiet you can be as I fucked you in this lingerie,” he bit at her ear lobe which caused her to gasp and her hands shot out to grab at his forearms. “Well…until I ripped all the pretty lace into shreds,” he continued, pressing a kiss over her racing pulse on her neck. His hands slid around to her bare ass and his fingertips squeezed into the skin there as he pulled her even tighter against him so Emma could feel how badly he wanted her.

“How fast can you be?” Emma asked, almost pleading with him to do everything he had just stated and more. It was a risk with everyone here but her brain was so clouded with lust for the man standing in front of her she was willing to take it. She had been wanting to jump him for two days now but things kept getting in the way. She’d even take a heavy make-out session at this point, she just wanted him to keep touching her. “Makeup can always be touched up,” she continued, her hand drifting to press up against the seam of his pants which was incredibly tight at the moment.

“I can do fast and dirty,” Soap ground out as his fingers slipped between her legs from behind, pushing the thin strip of underwear to the side to feel the wetness there. He huffed and slid his fingers away, earning a whine of disappointment from Emma who had opened her legs a bit wider to give him better access. “But I’m not that fast and Price is waiting,” he ground out before unwrapping his arms from around her reluctantly.

Emma felt like she was going to combust as she looked at him and almost grabbed his wrist and dragged his hand back to her body but he was right, they needed to get going. Soap took the dress that was draped over her arm and gestured to help her into it, twisting her around by the hips to do up the back. His hands were nimble as they pulled up the zipper and slid the diamond necklace around her neck, though he kept running his hands over her body as he worked; especially as he helped her strap on the heels, his fingers gently massaging her calves and kissing the inside of her knee.

“When you’re busy flirting with Mikhail I want you to think of me undressing you later,” he said as he slowly rose from the floor where he had knelt in front of the bed to lean over her instead. “And when he talks a big game to you,” his hand slid up her skirt and he grabbed one of her garters between two fingers. He picked the material up a few inches from her skin before letting the elastic snap back on her thigh with a sharp sting, “I want you to think of how you felt screaming my name in that warehouse.” He smirked and dared a quick kiss to her lips, not wanting to smear her lipstick, “and if he tries anything with you, I want you to know I’ll break his fucking skull.” The last sentence was a lethal promise and Soap locked eyes with Emma to emphasize it. Emma felt the shiver of fear, but also comfort, shoot down her back from his words before he pulled away to stand up straight and offer her his arm.

“You better stick to that promise of undressing me later Johnny,” Emma stated as she loosed a breath she didn’t realize she was holding before she smoothed her skirt back out and grabbed her small clutch. She had stuffed some cash in the little black purse along with her lipstick, a burner phone, her fake passport, and a small knife in the zipper pocket. “Or I may just get Mikhail’s number and call him up if you can’t satisfy me. He looks like he knows his way around a woman,” she smirked and Soap all but growled his displeasure at her words but he moved to help her out of the room and down the stairs.

“Well don’t you look cute,” Gaz stated as he buttoned the cuffs on his suit jacket and stuck the earpiece in his ear. Emma rolled her eyes at him but he just laughed. His cover as her security would allow him to have a direct line with Alex where they could talk back and forth without issue. Emma was handed a small earpiece that went so far into her ear canal it was barely visible and in the dark lighting of a club behind her hair, no one would see it. The microphone piece was a small button that clipped right onto her bra strap and she tested it with Alex before heading out to the car. It was an actual car this time, not the van, a sleek black Cadillac looking thing. Gaz walked to the front to drive, shoving his second pistol into the glove box, his first one was on a chest holster under his jacket.

Emma, Crane, and Soap slid into the back, the two men were dressed the same in button-down shirts and black slacks, large watches on their wrists, and rings on their fingers. Emma jiggled her foot the whole ride over and Soap gently patted her knee as they rode in relative silence. The closer they got to the club the more nervous she became and when Gaz pulled up to the valet, she took a deep breath and waited for the door to open. Time to put on the act.

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my fic #soap fanfic #call of duty #cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x oc #would it be enough?

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writingwife-83 · 2 years

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Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Day 1: Flower shop AU/Coffee Shop AU

Happy SAW23, all! Here’s a little ficlet for this first day, and I’m gonna try to do something like this everyday… but we shall see. 😅

Dead Center (👈 AO3)

“Black, two sugars, quick as you can please!”

Molly sighed deeply, taking advantage of the piercing scream of the milk steamer.

“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath. “Don’t wait until I turn around or anything. Just go ahead and yell at me from-“

That was when she turned around, choking on her own words and nearly dropped the espresso she’d just finished making.

Good God.

He had to be close to- no, definitely a full six feet. Fit… really fit. Crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows. His eyes, some unearthly blend of blue and green. And his hair, definitely the sort that Molly wanted to sink her fingers into and take firm hold of…

“I’ve got to get back to my shop.”

Molly blinked. “Sorry, what? Oh! You wanted coffee. Black, two sugars, was it?”

“Yes. How much?”

Molly set the latte at the other end of the counter for pickup as she answered. “£3.75. Anything else?”

“That’ll be all.” He took out £4 and set it on the counter. “Keep the change.”

“Oh, thanks so much,” Molly said with a smile, but he was already walking to the other end of the counter to wait for his order. “Ok…”

A minute later when she handed him his coffee, she put on her sweetest smile and tried to initiate eye contact. “Here you go. Black two sugars. A-and I couldn’t help noticing you said, ‘your shop?’ What sort of shop?”

Sherlock gestured across the street as he took his first sip. “Flower shop, across the way. It’s interesting enough work, particularly because I get to deduce all my customers and figure out what brings them in to make a purchase, even when they don’t say. An uncle died recently and left the business to me.”

“Oh congratulations!” Molly winced. “No, wait, sorry! I mean, sorry for your loss but also congratulations on the business.”

He eyed her strangely, rudely some would say. As if he were visibly reading between the lines.

“Right. Well, I’d best get back since I locked up to come grab this.”

“Of course, yes! Well, have a lovely day, and perhaps I’ll see you again. I’m Molly, by the way!” she called out as he began to turn, mentally patting herself on the back for being brave while also feeling like a desperate little fool.

For a moment he looked as if he were going to keep on walking, but then he looked over his shoulder at her, something softening almost imperceptibly in his gaze.

“Sherlock,” he replied, and gave her a little nod.

“Sherlock,” Molly whispered to herself as he left the Dead Center Cafe. Admittedly, he was a bit of an arse, but she was still going to look forward to seeing him again.

She was also most definitely going to be looking for an excuse to buy some flowers.

#sherlolly #sherlollyweek2023 #flower shop au #coffee shop au #does her cafe name make sense?#I mean maybe not #but hey maybe her father ran a funeral home #so this was her clever joke #when she opened her own cafe instead of following in his footsteps #it’s still Molly #so let’s be honest that’s the kind of joke she’d make #even if she didn’t work in a morgue lol

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hansensgirl · 3 years

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put me in a movie.

summary. | He knows you can’t make it on your own, so he’ll put you in his movie.

warnings. | Dubcon (reader doesn’t know what he’s doing but consents to it), smut, drinking, age gap (reader is legal), virginity loss, choking, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, corruption kink, innocence kink, cream pie kink, penetration, teasing, praise, filming, voyeurism, porn (the industry), fluff, yearning, Daddy kink, humiliation, overstimulation, dumbification kink, and more. SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 6.5k.

pairing. | Grey!Pornstar!Helmut Zemo x Innocent!Reader.

a/n. | please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. inspired by wet, written by the talented @thewritingdoll! do not translate or repost my fics at all.

You don’t like the heat, but you love the summer. The way the days are seldom cold and cloudy, with that occasional breeze that your skin gracefully soaks up in the same way your beach towel soaks up the water on your bathing suit. Popsicles of different flavours dripping down your skin and onto the hot sidewalk. The sticky residue makes you cringe, and you’d use the damp side of your towel to wipe it away. It would work for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two, before the feeling returns.

You hate the heat, but you love to see him. Those swim trunks of his sticking to his wet skin. They’re a blue colour that seems easy to describe at first glance, but you’ll soon realize just how many shades of navy blue there are, and suddenly you don't even know what colour they are. Maybe it’s the colour of the jeans the cameramen wear, or perhaps it’s the colour of the night sky at around six in the evening during the summertime.

They lug heavy equipment, and you just wonder if they’re filming a movie. If your friends and family members got word, they’d probably lose their minds before begging you to get them a part. Vying for fame runs through the family tree branches, and even you would want a small part in it as well. You give them empty promises, forgetting their words after a few minutes until the following text message or phone call.

You don’t spend much time at the beach anymore. Heck, you haven’t been there since June. Your friends have left with their boyfriends and girlfriends on a trip to Bali, and all you have are your family members to keep you company. Your white fence, magazine and lawn chair are all you know of now. You spend your days outdoors, knowing each one will be filled with the same things. The sunlight, bees buzzing, and seagulls having unwarranted ferociousness.

Your parents spend their days at work, and you stay home to hold your small fort down. You don’t water the grass or touch the garden because your father does it better than anyone. You don’t touch the paint meant for the walls or the furniture boxes that are strewn across the floors because your mother knows where to put them and how to paint. You just relax, and you don’t mind it at all.

That was until you saw him.

Curiosity is your closest friend other than the blue raspberry flavoured popsicles that take up more space in your freezer than anything else. So when the empty house next door suddenly filled up with around half a dozen people, you just couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. So you peer over the fence, standing on the small two-step ladder that your dad stole from his previous job. Women and a few men are laughing, dressed down in both swimsuits and t-shirts. Their bodies are lovely, the pinnacle of beauty that you sometimes envy. Other times, you’d feel as though you’re the prettiest girl in the world, and that’s not far from the truth. They’ve got different brands of alcohol in their hands, White Claw cans littered on the ground, and you cringe at the mess.

They must be mentally younger than you’ll ever be again because no person older than you can act like this. Heavy, black cameras are resting nearby briefcases, and you hope to god that nothing illegal is going on. The last thing you need is the police questioning you at 1 in the morning. Some of the men ogle at the younger ladies, and they bask in the attention. You watch as their eyes rake up and down their shiny, sweaty bodies.

“Oh, please, the least you all can do is wait for me before you start the party,” a man snickers, stepping out of the house. You look over to him, and your breath is taken away. Water drips down his face, cascading down to his neck and onto his slightly hairy chest—a navy bluish-purple robe and those blue swim shorts that peek through underneath the cloth. The colour of the fabric goes oh so well with the blue of his eyes. They all laugh until they’re sighing and already cracking open another bottle of beer.

You admire him from afar, and you can’t help but be mesmerized by the way he moves: such grace, such elusiveness. The glass in his hand isn’t cheap beer or tequila; it’s whiskey that looks rich as fuck, and he swigs it back like it’s water. You remember the first time your father and mother brought whiskey home from the local liquor store. Your father didn’t enjoy it, and neither did your mother. It sat in a random cupboard until a year ago when your mother decided to throw it out.

He lets out an exhale as the amber liquid flows down his throat, and you watch in awe as he handles the burn like a champion. God, you can’t even handle beer if you try hard enough. He gently places the glass onto the table, far away from the men’s feet, as he knows that they can be quite clumsy. There must be a proper name for all feelings; you believe. Like that feeling when it dawns on you that you’ll never experience something like this ever again.

Or maybe the feeling that Helmut has right now. Not the excitement of finishing this film, and not the tiredness that is a result of working too hard. No, the feeling that he knows you’re watching him from over the fence. He sans his hand towards you, and you quickly duck down, letting out a whimper. You nearly fall from the small ladder, but it wouldn’t be so graceful if it did happen. “What’s wrong, Baron?” one of his co-stars teasingly asks.

“Nothing... Must’ve been the whiskey…”

You don’t hate the summer; you just don’t like the boredom. Even relaxation is something you can tire of, believe it or not. You’ve got nothing to do. Your friends are still out of town, and your parents are at work. You’ve cleaned the house not once, not twice, but three times. Your closet is as clean as it’ll ever be, and the pantry is now organized by most used to least used. The plants have been properly watered, even though it wasn’t necessary since the forecast said there’d be light rain.

You love the rain, especially during the summertime. The sky makes the surrounding world have an almost orange tone to it. The after smell––an earthy, oceanic scent that is so unique––is something you’ll forever look forward to. You’re excited for the day it’ll rain, but even meteorologists tend to be wrong, and Mother Nature has a thing for keeping her children on their toes. It’s one of the many reasons why you love her. So with your little red dress on, you spin around in the backyard.

You’re sensible. You know what creepy crawlers lie underneath the dirt, between the fluffy grass. So instead of being barefoot (just like in those Sofia Loren movies) and playing around, you grab that little latter once again. You’ve scrubbed the grooves and cleaned them of their plant stains––sloppily, of course. Your oversized slippers belong to your dad, and they struggle to stay on your feet, but it doesn’t matter.

You’re not going to be moving around much, anyway. You move the latter closer to where you last saw the group of men and women. You truly hope you don’t get caught and get into any trouble; the last thing you want is your parents scolding you and embarrassing you. You step up on the ladder carefully, grasping onto the wooden fence for support. The surface is hot to the touch, and you really want to let go, but you really shouldn’t. You whisper affirmations along the lines of ‘I won’t fall…’ over and over again, under your breath.

And you hope to God they work.

Admittedly, you also hope he’s wearing those blue swim shorts of his again. The look (and he) resides in your heart, amongst other tubes and canals that have learned to make room for friends, family and passions. But he’s not a friend, he’s not family, and he’s most certainly not a passion. ...He’s something else, that’s for sure. An enigma, really. He reminds you of that feeling––the one that has a name, temptation. Someone tells you not to do something you weren’t going to do in the first place, and now you want to do it.

Except the case is different. You shouldn’t be perving on strangers like this––sneaking up on them, spying on them––all because you just can’t help it. Your mind tells you to stop, but it’s just giving you all the more reason to continue doing it. So, until you nearly get caught one more time, you’ll continue to watch him. Desperate to figure out who he is and what he’s doing.

The cameras are no longer on the ground; a smart decision, given that there’s a pool that takes up more space than anything. The blue water of pools has always fooled you. You grew up believing that it was the true colour of water, not even knowing that it was, in fact, the tiles and not the water. There’s no mess there either, clean and tidy. Maybe professionally done, because the concrete has but not one dark spot or crease where grass grows out of it.

Laid perfectly, you know your mother and father would admire it for a few minutes. You squint your eyes and gaze at the glass sliding door. Inside is him. You let out one of those dreamy, love-filled sighs that only main characters do in romance movies. You watch him as he pours himself a cup of coffee, two spoonfuls of sugar, and a dash of what seems to be almond milk.

You wonder if he likes iced coffees, as they can be so nice during the summertime. He wears those lovely blue swim shorts once again, hair slightly damp (with a pretty curliness to a few strands) and a navy bathrobe. It’s that same outfit as the other time you saw him, and you realize that they’re probably filming a movie. He moves around the counter, putting away certain little ingredients and whatnot.

The most mundane actions ever, ones that even you did just this morning. But god, he just makes it all seem so unique. He cards his fingers through his brown, almost dirty blond hair. There are clumps of strands that stick together, wetness that’ll dry probably as soon as he steps outside. He faces the window, staring out towards the fence that has been freshly painted, and sighs.

His head lulls back, and his neck is exposed. He’s probably both an actor and a model, you think to yourself. His chest hair has grown a bit more, and you can’t find yourself complaining. Tingles run through your body and even down to your pussy. You rub your thighs together, trying to make the feeling go away, while still being careful about holding onto the fence. You hope that he doesn’t know you’re watching him because you’ll never be able to live that down.

And it’s just so unfortunate that Helmut is such a clever man. Heightened senses from when he used to camp a lot when he was younger; he just knows practically everything. He knows you’re watching him, squinting your eyes until they’re nearly shut close. The skin around them wrinkles in the most adorable way, just like the way your nose scrunches up out of instinct. God, he could kiss every crevice of your body, even if you don’t know who he is.

“Hey, Helmut, we have a few re-shoots to do. Do you want to start now?” one of the cameramen asks him, holding a microphone in his hand. “No… I’m tired; we’ll do it all tomorrow,” Helmut says, waving his hand. He’s no longer looking outside and instead at the man who he’s addressing. He nods and walks off before Helmut follows him. Common courtesy is to always escort your guests out, and Helmut was raised with manners. With a hand on the man’s lower back, and a smile on his face, Helmut gently pushes him out the door and locks it.

You watch him as he disappears, seemingly leading someone out of his home, and you think all is fine. That is until that little voice in your mind decides to be obnoxious. The slight possibility that you’ve been caught and he’s mad haunts you, and your breath hitches. Your eyeballs are wide open, as big as the eyes of an owl, and your hands shake a bit out of fear. They dampen up a bit, not enough to the point where you’d be disgusted, but they’re clammy nonetheless.

You make a move to jump off the latter, not caring about the possible risk of falling and scraping your pretty legs. Your hands begin to let go of the fence, but they’re stopped by someone grabbing you by your wrists. You let out a squeal of shock as they hold you tightly from over the barrier, and you’re screwed. “I’m sorry!” you quickly yell, squinting your eyes out of fear. You’re not sure what to expect, whether he would yell at you or threaten to call the cops.

“No, it’s okay. Calm down, I’m not mad. Come back,” Helmut tells you, and you calm down. Yet you’re still nervous, scared that he’s a liar and that you’ll be in deep shit with the law. You step back onto the latter and are wary of looking over the wood. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow thickly. “I’m not mad, okay? I think it’s kind of cute. You’re like a curious little bunny,” he smiles, and you giggle.

“Never been called that before, usually just a curious cat,” you share with him, and he laughs. “Well, that’s not wrong,” he adds. A brief silence intrudes, and you just stare at one another. Helmut’s eyes jump from feature to feature on your face, relishing in that unique gorgeousness of yours. Someone like you will never be found amongst models because you’re an absolute angel. You’re like a pretty rose amongst other flowers; all are beautiful in their own ways, but you always manage to stand out.

You wonder if Helmut is the wolf to your bunny. That dark look in his eyes that compliments his features and overall attitude. He carries himself in such a way that old Hollywood actors wish they were so graceful. He’s the polar opposite of you––seemingly. But from the few words you’ve exchanged with each other, he just might be a bunny friend to yours. “I- I saw that there were cameras and I heard people talking… Are you filming a movie?” you ask him.

“...Yes, we are, bunny. I apologize for being so loud. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions with a smile on his face. You nod your head and bite on your bottom lip, watching as his eyes brighten up a bit. “What’s it about? Can I know? Are you the main protagonist? Or the antagonist? What genre is it?” you interrogate, flooding him with questions. “Shh, one at a time, bunny. It’s very, very special and secretive. I can’t tell you much. But I’m the main protagonist, and it’s a bit of a naughty movie, so I don’t think a little girl like you should know much,” he whispers to you.

You nod your head as you listen to him, so intrigued about the work of art being filmed next door. “I’ve always wanted to be in a movie! Especially in one of those old Hollywood ones, they’re so good,” you admit to him shyly, with a coy smirk on your face. “Really? I think you’d be an amazing actress. You’d be even more popular than Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe,” Helmut praises, and you giggle once again.

“T- Thank you so much! ...Can I be in your movie?” you politely request him, but he shakes his head. You frown, your bottom lip jutted out. “You wouldn’t want to be in this movie, bunny. Remember what I said? It’s a naughty movie, and you’re just a little girl,” he reminds you, but you’re still pouting. “Is it a violent movie? One with curse words and lots of scary stuff?” you innocently ask, not sure as to what he means.

Helmut laughs quite loudly. “No,” he stifles a chuckle, “but one day I’ll shoot a movie with you, and I’ll show you how it’s all done.” He promises, and you can just tell he’s honest. You’re elated, hoping that the day he’s talking about will come soon. “What is your name, bunny?” Helmut asks, and you tell him. He nods before repeating it, giving you a smile. He brings both of your hands close to his face. You go on the tip of your toes to properly watch him once more. He presses his lips to the back of your hands, kisses them one by one.

“Go get some rest, bunny, and come by my place tomorrow,” he tells you before letting go of your wrists. He walks off before you do anything else. Sliding the glass door behind him, he disappears somewhere, and you’re left all by yourself. You’re still standing there, sighing dreamily as you replay the moments that will surely turn into a broken record. You hope that he’ll wear those blue swim shorts again, even though he’s already worn them twice.

There’s a skip in your step—nothing new and nothing unusual. Your shoes scratch against the concrete of the sidewalk that connects to Helmut’s front door. The sun only rose an hour and a half ago. The sky is a bright blue, filled with a few clouds that compliment the colour. The sun beats down onto your skin, and you haven’t forgotten to put on sunscreen once you finish twirling around in your little sundress.

You’ve got a miniature backpack that is slung over both of your shoulders. It’s orange, a bright one, in fact. It reminds you of the tangerines you love to peel, and those creamsicle treats that can be quite rare to find at this time of the year. You climb up the two steps that lead to his grey door, and you rap the wood a few times. There’s a doorbell too, one of those high-tech ones that record everything in its view.

Nothing but silence echoes back. No cars driving by, no birds chirping, no insects buzzing. Nothing. You wonder if he’s woken up yet, or if he’s even home. But as the door suddenly swings open––without a squeak, mind you––you’re met with the smiling face that belongs to Helmut. “Good morning, early-bird, is everything alright?” he questions, not one ounce of sleep tainting his look.

“Good morning! Everything is alright… D- Do you remember what you told me yesterday? About coming by?” you ask him, almost thinking to yourself that you’re just insane and that conversation never really happened. “Oh, right! Sorry, I've been a bit forgetful lately. But come in, have you eaten already?” Helmut asks as he moves to the side for you to enter.

Hesitatingly, you step inside his home. You kick off your shoes and look around. It seems sleek and modern at first, quite… different from the familiar feel of your house. Now, there are no wild polygons or geometric shapes that make you feel like you’ve been placed on a spaceship. No, it’s something that even your mind can’t come up with. The walls are a cream colour, engraved with different patterns that make it resemble marble. The chairs and couches have clear plastic legs on them, adding to that newfound era feel.

The floors are a light brown colour; wood in the shape of long, skinny parallelograms fitting against each other perfectly. The lights hang down a bit, high ceilings that you can’t even fathom reaching. You spin around and look up at them as they shine down brightly on you. They stem down from a pretty grey bronze appliqué that is attached to the ceiling. It’s practically art, just like the portraits of half-naked ladies that hang on his walls. There’s a specific piece that is above the fireplace.

It’s a mirror, and your reflection is in it. So is Helmut’s. You’re in front of him, looking at him through the mirror. He’s behind you, staring at your reflection. You both stay like that for a bit before you look away and admire the windows. He has such a lovely view; you can’t help but envy him for it. “Now, bunny, I have to be honest with you. We wrapped the movie up last night, and it was very late. I didn’t call you over because of that, and I’m really sorry about that. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions.

You nod your head eagerly, just sensing that he’ll lead on with some sort of good news. Your parents have done that far too many times for you not to know better. “But, if you want, I’ll put you in a movie. It’ll be just between you and me because it won’t be too professional, okay?” Helmut grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes, waiting for your answer. “Oh, yes, please! That sounds amazing. Thank you so much!” you cheer, wrapping your arms around him.

You hug him tightly, and he eventually hugs you back. “Now, I want to finish it as soon as possible. So set your bag right on this couch, and go sit on that one,” Helmut instructs, pointing at the biggest couch in the living room. You nod and do exactly as he tells you. He walks away, possibly to set something up or to get ready, but either way, you still sit on his couch, filled with pure excitement. You cross one leg over the other, your pretty white dress covering the upper half of your thighs.

Lace that is on top of the cotton, both the same colour, and you realize how much you love this dress. Helmut saunters back into the living room, holding a giant tripod in one hand and a small camera in the other. You gasp at the sight, and he chuckles. Setting them up from the other side of the small coffee table, you watch him in awe. “This is going to be… a big girl movie, okay? Just like the one I was in. But I don't think it will be visible to the public eye, might just be between you and I,” Helmut tells you.

You nod in understanding. “Are you fine with that, little bunny?” he asks you just for reassurance. “Mhm, you can do anything you want; I don’t mind!” you reassure him, with a giant smile on your face. He swallows thickly as blood rushes downwards to his cock from your words. You still grin gleefully, such innocence on your features that he almost feels bad for having feelings for you.

He presses the little power button on the camera and waits for a green light to come on. With a smirk, Helmut walks around the table and stands in front of you. You look up at him, waiting for him to do something. He bends down and grabs both sides of your face––gently, of course––and he makes you stand up. He tilts his head and leans forward, slotting his lips against yours.

Now, you’ve kissed someone before. His name started with something along the lines of ‘J’ or ‘L,’ but that doesn’t matter. But that kiss was nothing like Helmut’s kiss. His kiss is soft and passionate, something you struggle to match. His lips stay locked with yours before moving to push his tongue into your mouth. You’re not sure what to do, so you just give up and let him kiss you until you both run out of breath. His tongue runs against the wet skin of your mouth, and you gasp at the feeling.

He eventually pulls away, and he looks at you with his eyes blown out. Helmut sighs and smiles at you. “You gotta trust me, okay?” he tells you once more, and you nod. “Ok…” you trail off, not knowing what to follow up with. “You gotta call me by a nickname, bunny… Hmm, how about Daddy?” he exclaims, his accent becoming more prominent. You love it and how unique it is. “Okay! I like that one a lot, my friend calls her boyfriend that sometimes,” you share with him, and he laughs.

He sits you down on the couch again, and his hand inches up your dress, making you giddy. He smiles at you, and you can see from the corner of your eye how the camera is filming you both. Helmut just knows you’re wet already, but you probably don’t know it. And he’s not wrong. You feel slightly tingly, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your panties slide down your legs, a wet patch on them, and Helmut throws them to the side. He lifts your dress over your head and tosses the fabric away, too.

He takes a step back and admires you. You still have your ankle socks on, but God, you’re so gorgeous he thinks he’s in heaven. “You’re so pretty, bunny. The prettiest bunny I’ve ever seen,” he compliments. You grow shy and smile before whispering a thank you. You smile at the camera, and he begins to undress. The first thing that goes is the robe, and his chest is now exposed.

Helmut hasn’t shaved his chest hair, and you’re glad. It looks nice on him––but to be fair––anything does. All he has on is those swim shorts. God, you love those shorts so much. They’re no longer wet, and yet they still cling to his thighs. He slowly pulls them down––and you feel as though you should look away and give him privacy––but you just can’t. His cock is hard, and it shows through the fabric, but you’re too busy staring at his hands to notice it.

His Adonis belt is slowly exposed, along with his pelvic bone, as he pulls down his boxers as well. There’s a small bush of hair right above his cock, and you find yourself wanting to tangle your fingers between the strands. Helmut’s cock bounces up––hard, red, and leaking––and the tip slaps right below his belly button. You let out a gasp, and he chuckles. His swim shorts lie on the floor, and you’re suddenly being urged to lay back.

Helmut climbs on top of you, caging you beneath his well-built body. Soft abs that are just perfect enough for you, and big hands that hold you so lovingly. He wants to feel his rough palms against your delicate skin, falling into every groove and curve there is. Like an artist admiring their artwork, he runs his hands along your body. From your thighs to your hips, over your stomach, between your breasts, all the way up to your neck. His hard cock is between your legs, nearly touching your sensitive little pussy.

You swallow nervously at the feeling. Helmut’s left hand wraps around your throat, and his right hand moves downwards to your legs. Gripping your calf, he places your right leg on the head of the couch and moves to position your left leg so that it hangs off the edge of the seat. You’re spread wide open for Helmut, not able to hide your naked body or close your legs. Your hands rest above your head, almost as though you’re pathetically shielding your hair from the rain.

Helmut’s hand still rests on your neck, but he doesn’t squeeze your throat or anything like that. You’re not sure if he’s playing the antagonist or not, but you decide to just go along with what he does. “You’re okay, right, bunny? You’re fine, I’m gonna treat you so good,” he promises, and you give him your best superstar smile. You have to admit that you’re nervous, but you trust him completely. Helmut would never do anything wrong to you.

“Has anyone ever touched you down here, bunny? Have you ever touched down here?” he questions you, walking his fingers up to your soaking wet pussy. “Hmm, uh, I touched it once, but I didn’t know what was happening, so I stopped,” you shyly explain to him, and he nods. “That’s okay, bunny. Can I touch you here? I won’t hurt you too badly, I promise,” Helmut assures you, and you nod. His index finger sticks out, and he watches as slick drips from your hole and coats the silky skin around it.

The digit becomes a bit shiny and quite sticky, and he traces your slit lightly. You shiver lightly from his touch, and sensitivity blooms in your core. “Uhm… Daddy?” you call out to him, a bit worried. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks, bringing his finger up to your clit. It throbs with want, just like the veins on his cock. “It feels very sensitive, almost too sensitive…” you admit to him, even though he continues to touch your clit.

“That’s okay, bunny, that’s how it’s supposed to feel. But if you want to stop, just tell me,” Helmut urges you. “Okay, Daddy.” He rubs your little nub in small, light circles. The muscles in your legs twitch, and you bite down on your bottom lip. He continues to touch your clit, and you begin to writhe from the overwhelming feeling. You let out a few whines, and Helmut watches as your cunt just gets wetter and wetter.

You try to shift his hands away from you in your weird position. It’s just too much at once, and you’re scared of what will happen next. The pornstar’s finger slips off your cunt, and he lets out a small gasp. The sound is mixed with displeasure, and you look him in the eyes with innocence. “Don’t do that again, bunny,” he warns, squeezing your neck a bit just to add to his threat. His index finger returns to your clit, and this time, he rubs your little pearl even harder. You see stars, ones that are dark and would be hidden in the blackness of outer space. Your eyes roll back into your skull, and you’ve never felt such pleasure in your life. Helmut’s digit touches the most sensitive part of your clit, and you jerk in response. Your legs try to shut close, but his body stops you from doing so.

When you open your eyes, you’re faced with a displeased superstar. Helmut lets out a shaky exhale, trying to compose himself. He knows he shouldn’t get mad at you, but he just doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have his way. His hand leaves your cunt and moves downwards. Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass, making you cry out in pain. The skin stings and prickles, and you can feel slight tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Instead of staring at your pretty little face, Helmut squeezes your neck even tighter and watches as your little hole begins to leak with even more wetness. “Aww, bunny, did you enjoy Daddy hitting you? Hm? I bet you did; that’s you’re so wet,” he chuckles, and you grow shy. He’s not wrong, though. You enjoyed the pain quite a bit, even though you tend to avoid any and all activities that could leave you with a minor injury.

“Such a little slut for pain. But I bet you don’t like it when Daddy gets mean with you, right? Yeah, because you’re just a sensitive little bunny,” he coos, and you smile. You nod to him, and he grins down at you. Helmut’s cock is a furious red, almost purple if you really look closely. Beads of precum run down the sides of his cock, all the way to his thick base. He slaps your ass once more, enjoying the way you flinch and then smile from delight.

“I guess I’ve been a bit mean, just touching your little button without even letting you come…” he sighs before shifting onto his knees. Helmut looks over to the camera, just to make sure it’s still recording. And it is, so he smiles. He towers over you even more now, a few strands on his hair dangling downwards, and you find yourself wanting to play with them. The hand that was on your ass grasps the base of his cock, and he runs the head through your folds.

A quiet squelching sound echoes between the both of you, and you giggle. Your laughter is cut short when he bumps up against your clit, and you let out a moan. The sound is unexpected on your behalf, but Helmut just smirks. Your moans turn into a string of shallow pants, and he curses under his breath at the feeling. Dragging his head away from your clit, he brings himself down to your hole, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“Shh, just let Daddy in, okay? I know it’s your first time, but it’s okay. You’re fine, don’t worry,” Helmut reassures. You nod your head and let out a pained cry as he pushes into you slowly. You feel as though you’re being torn apart, split into two. He grips your throat even tighter, and you wrap your hand around his wrist in a panicked, fleeting moment.

Helmut sheathes himself inside you, with your mouth parted open in a silent scream and his eyebrows knitted together. He eventually bottoms out, and the stretch of his cock goes from a harsh burn to a pleasurable feeling. His swollen balls touch your aching ass, and he bends down to kiss your forehead lightly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he questions. “Y- Yes, it feels really good, Daddy. Just a li’l uncomfortable, but it feels really good,” you tell him.

Your cunt squeezes him in a tight hug, your silky wet walls welcoming him in hesitantly. He wishes to stay inside you his whole life, and he would if he could convince you. Helmut pulls out until his head is the only thing inside you before roughly thrusting back inside. You cry out, and his hand loosens around your throat. “Such a good girl, letting me use your pussy for my pleasure. You like being recorded while I fuck you, right? Say it,” he demands, fucking into you roughly.

Your tits bounce with each and every movement. Helmut’s cock gets closer and closer to your sweet spot, and you moan loudly. “I- I like being recorded while you fuck me, Daddy,” you repeat to him. Helmut groans loudly, and you clench down on his cock tightly. “You feel so good, bunny, better than anyone else,” he compliments, feeling slick sweat beginning to build upon his back. “Uhm, Daddy? S- Something’s happening,” you whisper to him through your desperate cries of pleasure.

Searing heat grows hotter and hotter in your stomach, right above your pussy. You’ve never felt like this before, other than when Helmut was touching your pussy a few moments ago. “Let it happen, bunny, it’s okay, come all over Daddy’s big cock. I know you can do it, squeeze me, bunny,” Helmut urges, and you listen to him. The powerful feeling grows and grows, and so do your moans. And the elastic cord breaks eventually. It always does.

You cry out ‘Daddy’ as you come undone around his cock for the very first time. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, even though you’re gripping him so tightly. You gush all over him, wetness coating his cock, and it makes him fuck you even quicker. The sound of skin on skin and loud moans fill the room, and Helmut hopes to God that the microphone is picking up on it all. The feeling in your body makes you lose all sense of reality, and you’re babbling like a little baby.

“Daddy- It’s too much,” you sob to him, digging your nails into your palms. “Shh, it’s okay, bunny,” he shushes gently, keeping his hand wrapped lazily around your neck. Helmut’s cock slams into your cunt, pounding into you ruthlessly, yet he’s somehow oh so gentle. Your eyes roll into the back of your head again, and you moan gently as you feel another climax being built up. Back to back, and you’re not sure how your body is going to handle it.

He’s close, too. He’s never had this happen before, and he’s not sure what to think of it.

“Awe, you’re going to come again, bunny? That’s okay, shh, Daddy’s here, bunny. We’ll do it together, and it’ll b- be good,” he tells you, and you nod. Helmut bends down and places his shiny forehead against yours. He stares you into your glassy eyes––they’re hazy––and he can tell you’re gone. You’ve gotten all stupid and dumb for his cock, and he loves the idea so much.

You both pant as he sloppily fucks into your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill up your tight little pussy with my cum. Gonna watch it leak out, and I’m just gonna fill you up over and over again. Make you all mine because you belong to me. Right? Say it,” he growls, fucking you even faster. “I’m all yours, Daddy, I’m all yours,” you say to him, and you’re both pushed off the edge after one specific thrust.

“O- Oh my…” you choke out, squeezing your eyes shut. Helmut curses loudly, saying all kinds of sinful things that a nun would faint if she hears him. His cock twitches as he comes inside you, and your pussy squeezes him as you let go. Streaks of cum shoot out his tip and paint your inner walls, and it all begins to leak out already. Your cum mixes with his, and he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight of it.

He presses a kiss on your nose before slowly pulling out. Helmut’s cock is still hard, and he just knows the afternoon won’t end until he says so. You wince loudly at the feeling of emptiness and overwhelming sensitivity. “Sorry, bunny,” he frowns, reaching over for the camera. You watch him through droopy eyelids as he focuses it on your cunt, then to your body, and then to your face.

“Did I do good, Daddy?” you ask him excitedly.

“So good, bunny. You’re going to be sweeping up at the awards next year.”

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

By My Side (Part 5)

Summary: The reader has finally hired a replacement manager and after a dinner with her family, she and Jensen confront some underlying feelings...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: mature (language, smut (m/f))

A/N: Enjoy!

A/N #2: Written for @spnkinkbingo

_________

You stretched as you woke the next morning, getting ready for the day of entertaining your family. You bumped into Jensen in the kitchen, a pair of jeans and a simple black henley on him. You smiled but he frowned and you instantly made a face.

“Y/N, don’t turn off your phone ever. It’s a rule, remember?” he said before returning to slurping up his cereal.

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot,” you said.

“Please try not to do it again,” he said. He finished with his bowl and you took the cereal from nearby, pouring yourself some. “Are you deciding on a new manager today?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of that David guy?”

“The british one?”

“No, that was the Mark one. He was scottish I think. I’m not positive,” you said.

“Is David the one that had that intern? The little guy?” he asked.

“Alex? No, he was his just his driver. It doesn’t matter. I was thinking of David. What do you think?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“You did full background checks on all of these guys,” you said. “Who do you trust?”

“Honestly?” he asked. “I like Jake.”

“The young one?”

“He lacks the experience of the others but I don’t see him screwing you over. He was a navy cadet in college. Had to drop out due to a knee injury. Him I trust. Not that I don’t the others but I got a good feeling from the kid.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you said. He stood and you grabbed the milk, Jensen wiping off his mouth. “Have fun with your sister.”

“She’s got a work thing at the moment but hopefully she wraps up soon and I can take her out for some fun for a bit. I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Later, Jay,” you said, getting a wave from him as he walked out. You poured the milk into your bowl and took out your phone, dialing and hearing a ring tone a few times.

“Hello?” the other end answered.

“Hi, Jake? This is Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you were still interested in the manager position? If you are, you are in for a fun first day with that restaurant photo.”

“Mmm. Smells great in here,” hummed Jensen when he walked into the kitchen that evening. Your mom smiled and immediately rushed over, Jensen tensing up as she gave him a hug.

“Mom. Don’t bug Jensen,” you said.

“It’s alright,” he said, noticing your brothers were nowhere to be found. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Oh his arms are even bigger than you said! He’s handsome too,” she said. You rolled your eyes as you worked over the pot at the stove, Chuck turning around beside you and chuckling. “Jensen, this is my husband, Chuck.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“You know everything about us already, don’t you,” he said as he shook it.

“Pretty much,” said Jensen. “Y/N’s safety is important and knowing about her family is part of that.”

“Well we certainly feel a lot better with her hiring someone. We’ve never been fans of her living alone,” he said.

“Y/N is quite capable. I’m just here to stop those situations from ever happening,” said Jensen.

“You will be joining us to eat, won’t you? Y/N and Chuck are making us dinner,” said your mom.

“That’s very kind of you mam but-”

“I insist,” she said.

“Just let it go Jensen,” you said. “This’ll be done soon if you want to tell the guys.”

Your parents headed outside, Jensen taking up Chuck’s spot beside you and stirring the cooked vegetables in the pan.

“None of them have any idea about the fake kidnapping or anything else, do they.”

“Nope. Nothing besides what happened last night. Michael and Nick know about the manager thing but that’s it. I’d prefer to keep it that way,” you said. The timer went off and Jensen got it, pushing some of the food around with a wooden spoon.

“They won’t hear anything from me,” he said. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks. How’d it go with your sister?”

“Good. I need to discuss something with you later after your family is gone for the night.”

“Everything alright?” you asked.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, the back door opening. “Let’s dig in while it’s hot.”

“Jensen,” you said, finding him out by the pool that night, his feet soaking in the water. “My folks and the wonder twins are gone for the night.”

“Wonder twins,” he chuckled. “They act differently when your parents are around.”

“You picked up on that huh.”

“It’s pretty obvious,” he said. You sat beside him and stuck your feet in, Jensen leaning back on his palms.

“What’s going on big guy?”

“Are you asking as my boss or my friend?”

“Friend,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“My sister wasn’t too happy to see big brother on the news nearly getting shot at. She asked me to consider a different line of work,” he said.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m not quitting, just so you know. A random guy running from the cops doesn’t scare me. Only reason I was on the news was cause of you,” he said.

“There’s a but in there somewhere though.”

“No, not really,” he said. “Just wanted to talk to you about it.”

“So there’s no problem.”

“I like when there’s no problems,” he chuckled. “My job is a lot easier when it’s simple like that.”

“You still have your gun on you.”

“Precaution,” he said. He sat up and took it out from behind his back. “You ever shoot one?”

“Pretend but real no, I haven’t. Can I hold it?” you asked. He set it in your hands, watching you look it over for a moment.

“You’ve had gun training,” he said.

“First season went through a lot of that stuff on the show. We get refreshers,” you said. “Colt?”

“Yes it is,” he said. “You use a glock on your show I believe.”

Your head popped up and he laughed.

“Yes, even I do occasionally watch TV. Nice gun safety. You never leave your finger on the trigger.”

“Not supposed to, even with a fake gun they taught us,” you said. You lifted it up and held it out, finding it to be heavier than the one you were used to. “I like the grip.”

“You’d probably like a smaller Colt, fit your hands better,” he said. You handed it back to him and he tucked it away. “You see where the safety was on it?”

“Yeah?” you said. He reached behind himself and took your hand, guiding it to the back holster.

“If I can’t use this, grips on the right side. Take it out, flick off the safety, point and squeeze. It’s that simple.”

“I sincerely hope I never have to put that into practice,” you said as he dropped your hand. Your finger brushed against his back, Jensen frozen solid before you pulled away.

“Any day I don’t have to touch it is a good one,” he said, your hand settling back in your lap. “That...tickled was all.”

“Green beans and tickling. You got some funny forms of kryptonite, Ackles,” you said.

“Beats actual kryptonite,” he said. “Been awhile since I’ve been tickled.”

“I bet you like it. Being able to feel vulnerable and safe with someone.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Your feet kicked in the water, a smile growing on your face. He bumped your shoulder and your turned your head. He looked different, a softness about him.

“Are you happy?” you asked.

“What?”

“Are you happy? I...I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose this job over other things in life, like a relationship. You can have both, Jensen.”

“I’m lost.”

“I’m just saying...you can have a girlfriend and be my bodyguard. You don’t have to pick one or the other.”

“Girls get jealous,” he said. “In my experience. The hours are crap. The inconsistent schedule. I’m too…”

“Too what?”

“Last girlfriend I had...I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and you lightly nudged his foot in the water. “She thought I was too broken for a normal relationship.”

“What?”

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” he mumbled. He started to stand but you grabbed his arm, Jensen sighing and turning to you. “What? I think she might have had a point.”

“I think that was horrible of her to say and I’m sorry she never saw the real you cause him? He is so not broken.”

“You have this perfect image of me. Strong and capable. Dominant. Alpha. In charge, gives no fucks. That’s the bodyguard. That’s not me.”

“I know. I know Jensen likes being tickled,” you said. He rolled his eyes but you caught his chin, Jensen swallowing. “I know he likes the touch of soft fleece and expensive navy boxer briefs. I know he likes classic rock and sleeping in and likes two cream, one sugar in his coffee. I know he talks to his parents every Thursday night for at least an hour. I know he’s quiet around people he doesn’t know and I know he opens up when he’s well and truly comfortable with someone. I know he’s kind and I know he has nightmares sometimes. I know he can play the piano and guitar and he sings in the shower when he’s happy and he checks on me at night and puts my blankets back on me and doesn’t say a word about it, even when I thought he hated me.”

“You pay attention to me,” he said quietly. “Even though you don’t like me around.”

“I don’t like the bodyguard. He’s okay sometimes but a bit much all the time. But Jensen...him I like. I like him alot.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.”

“You’re not broken, Jensen. I’m never going to believe that so don’t even try.”

He put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in close, so close you could feel his breath on your face.

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m screwed up. We’re not supposed to be friends. Don’t you understand that?” he said. Your nose pressed against his, green eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” you said. “What do you want?”

“I can’t have what I want,” he breathed out.

“You might be wrong about that. Actually, I’m positive you are,” you said, his hand sliding up a few inches into your hair. “Stop being scared and just tell me what you want.”

He leaned in the last inch between you, gentle lips connecting with yours. He didn’t move for a few seconds, eyes opening when he inched away just slightly. You stared at him and you saw him get the message, another kiss landing on your lips, his free hand sliding around your back. Your arms went over his shoulders, Jensen leaving kitten kisses on you before connecting roughly, giving your whole body a squeeze.

“Bedroom,” you breathed out. He moved back long enough to take his feet out of the water. He hoisted you up and carried you inside, your arms and legs wrapped around him as you returned to kissing him. There was a light scratch from the stubble on his jaw and you tugged on his bottom lip, Jensen pausing as he tried to shut the door behind him with one hand.

You took the opportunity to tease him, kissing under his jaw while he got the back door shut and locked, his hand slapping the alarm system and the little ping saying it was armed. He arched his neck back and spun around, pushing you up against the wall. You squeezed him tighter, getting gentle bites along your collar bone.

He tore the two of you away and rushed you upstairs, stepping up onto your bed and walking forward on his knees until he could lower you down to your back. His eyes looked darker but playful as he moved up and leaned over you.

“Condom?” he asked.

“I’m on medication,” you said. “You clean?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Same.”

“Good cause I really don’t think I can wait any longer to do this,” he said. He tore off his shirt and you immediately shot your hands up to his chest, running your fingers down it.

“You’re so damn hot,” you said. He rolled off the bed and dropped his pants, giving you time to get your shirt off. By the time your head wasn’t covered, you had a perfect view of his ass, creamy and perky. Your bra went off quickly, Jensen turning around and making you pause.

“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself and then you.

“Lucky me,” you said. He smirked and you kicked off your shorts and underwear, Jensen crawling back on the bed and hovering over you. You kissed him and he planted his forearm by your head, his other hand trailing down to your breast. He kneaded the flesh gently, swiping a thumb over the bud and getting a tiny gasp out of you. He teased the same nipple with light touches and twists before working the other one over.

By the time his hand made its way between your folds you were soaking wet already.

“How do you want it?” he murmured against your lips, circling your clit lightly with his thumb.

“Want what?” you asked, arching your hips up into his touch.

“Slow. Fast. What do you like?” he asked, kissing your jaw as your breath hitched.

“Show me how you’ve imagined this going,” you said. He smiled and you felt the head of his cock brush you folds. He teased the head against your clit a few times before you reached down and were guiding him into your hole.

He was a smidge thicker than you were expecting and his length was perfect, solid, long but not too much. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around you pulling you to sit up on his lap, your legs hanging around his waist. He thrust his hips up and you bit your bottom lip, landing back down on him. He moved again and hit your g-spot, your jaw dropping.

“That’s the spot,” he murmured, kissing you as he started a slow and steady rhythm. You hung on for the ride, his hands on your thighs, thick cock pumping into you over and over and over again. You’d been able to play on your own and hit that spot but never with a guy, never had that low pressure simmering in your core.

God it was going to fucking destroy you when it hit.

You couldn’t wait.

You smiled as your nerves tingled, Jensen kissing you all over, his grip strong but everything else soft and gentle. His hair started to dampen with sweat and and you felt a layer cover your body, the steady pace getting you both closer.

He was nipping at your shoulder when you rolled your hips, Jensen grunting lowly and burying his face in your neck. That was a sound you could definitely do with more of and you did the motion again, Jensen pushing you onto his cock this time. You both moaned, Jensen’s slow pace picking up just a hair.

You were rolling your hips when his tip pounded inside of you and the low pressure started to explode inside you. You gasped and weren’t even sure what the hell kind of sound you’d made, suddenly aware of hot wetness filling you up. Jensen tensed up and slowly started to stop moving, your breath finally coming back to you as he stilled. He dropped his forehead on your shoulder and panted, your hands running up and down his back, playing with his hair some.

You giggled, Jensen letting out one himself and you swore your heart couldn’t have melted any faster. You picked your head up as he did, giving him a long kiss. He rested his forehead on your own, a smile dancing across his face.

“That was the best sex of my fucking life,” you said. He smiled hard and lowered you back down to the bed, holding up a finger. He pulled out and took a few shaky steps before going into your bathroom. He returned with a washcloth, wiping you clean. He tossed it back in the bathroom before he bent down to his pants. You frowned, Jensen looking back as he unclipped his holster from his belt. He walked it over to the unused nightstand and set it on top before he slid next to you. You pushed the covers back and slid under the sheet together, Jensen rolling you close to him and up against his chest.

“I don’t hookup,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You shut your eyes and burrowed in a bit closer, Jensen pulling you to use his chest as a pillow. “I really liked that. It was fun.”

“We should do it again sometime,” he said. He turned his head and you smiled, Jensen moving a stray piece of hair away from your cheek.

“I would be much safer if you slept close by, wouldn’t I?” you asked coyly, Jensen already seeing through it.

“Oh yes, much safer.”

“Maybe you should sleep in here from now on...for safety.”

“In the name of safety, for sure,” he said, kissing your temple. “Real talk for a second. If this is just a hookup for you can you let me now over-”

You put a hand over his mouth and stared at him, slowly moving it away and giving him a kiss.

“I like you, Jensen. I really like you.”

He smiled and took your hand, laying it over his chest so you were holding him.

“Goodnight,” you said, kissing his shoulder.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, lightly dancing his fingers over your hip. “Sleep good.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#spnkinkbingo #spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years

Text

"ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?" - ʜ.ᴏ

Hello to you! There it is! My first Harrison request. I'm working for a one shot with him, but it takes me so long because it's a little angst. But don't worry, this one is just fluff! I hope you'll all like it! I did not have time to be reread and corrected. So be indulgent once again, English is not my native language.

Summary: harrison met you in this coffe/bookstore where you friend worked. Since that day, he tried to ask you out but nothing really worked he would like. Until that day. Word count: 2690 Warning: some of swear, spoilers of "one day" by David Nicholls" Pairing : harrison osterfield Request: yes!

You walked happily into the store, heading towards the counter where your best friend was. “The cup and feather” was a second home to you. The warm atmosphere that reigned in the bookstore/cafe has always seduced you. There was a peace of mind that relaxed your muscles: the woody decor, the warm and captivating light, the mixed smell of old/new books and coffee. You were leaning on the counter where Maya was completing an order for a regular.

“Good morning Luke! Enjoy your drink!” you said with a large smile.

“Hello dear y/n! Thanks sweetie! Let me know if you want to drink something. It’s on me”

“It won’t be necessary but thank you. I appreciate!”

The customer adds a generous 10-pound bill to the tip pot with a wink at you. Maya thanked Luke and then gave you a broken look. You gave her an amused smile, shaking your head, already anticipating her next line. But nothing could dissipate your good mood, your day was good.

"It's unbelievable how my tips increase when you're here. What's your secret?"

“Hello to you too, dear best friend. I don't have a secret...but maybe, try to be...nicer to customers? Give them a smile while you're taking their order! ”

“Hello honey. I’m so thankful you’re here. It’s a boring day”

It was a pretty quiet day, there weren't a lot of customers. The rather gloomy London weather seemed to have put them off. A huge thunderous sound echoed outside and Maya jumped. You had a sympathetic and somewhat amused smile. You liked the storm. To be honest, you liked the storm when you weren't alone: feel the heavy, electric atmosphere before the refreshing rain falls. She looked out the window with annoyance.

"Jesus. It looks like it's gonna be a long day" she complained

“Don’t be so dramatic! Let me help. How can I help you?”

“There is this book cart that I have to put away and that has been lying around for an hour. But my boss would kill me if he found out that someone who actually doesn’t work here, did it for me”

Maya gave you a knowing look. It wasn't that she hated you helping her with her work, on the contrary, you were quite useful to her. But she would have preferred that you spend your free time other than helping her. You took a few books from the cart, sticking your tongue out at your best friend and rushing down the aisles of the library section. The distinct sound of a heavy downpour was heard outside and a few seconds later, the store door opened to let in two young, but also handsome, men. Maya bit her lip as one of the individuals approached the counter with a polite but warm smile. He seemed tall, with a thin but toned build, thin lips, his blue eyes pierced her from the moment his eyes met hers; a fucking model.

"Hello. Do you mind if we stay a little while the downpour subsides?" he asked.

" Hell no, of course! You can stay as long as you want as long as I can admire you… uh, shit, no, as long as you order something… did I say the other part out loud?

The second boy laughed, but nothing mocking. He was shorter than the guy across from Maya, brown hair and chocolate eyes, muscular arms but not sculpted like a bodybuilder. He seemed in good shape.

The blonde raised his eyebrows, an amused smile on his lips.

"I'm afraid so. Um ... okay. Tom?" he turned to his friend "Do you want to drink something?"

"Black tea. A single sugar and a drop of milk."

Your friend nodded meaning she heard it and then she patiently waited for the blonde to place his order.

"I'll have mint tea. Just one sugar too."

"Noted! Feel free to go grab a book once you've settled in."

The blonde smiled at Maya as he turned slightly to the tables to settle in with his friend. You were immersed in reading a synopsis when you finally returned to the counter. You looked up too late while talking to your best friend.

"Hey, Maya can I keep - ouch"

You had just hit a rather solid chest and your eyes widened in surprise. Two hands grabbed your shoulders before the fall, stabilizing you on your two good. And thank you, handsome stranger because you would have been able to let yourself fall so as not to drop the book you were holding in your hands.

"Everything's alright, love?"

"Huh Huh" You barely said, still a little surprised by the impact.

He smiled at you and finally joined Tom at a table without giving you a chance to thank him. You leaned against the counter giving your best friend an indecipherable expression.

"Who are these guys?"

"I know, right?" Maya whispered, biting her lips again.

You smiled to her. You and your best friend had the same tastes when it came to boys. So it was no wonder that they found them attractive.You quickly gave a last look on the mysterious guy before focusing on the cart again. Your logic wanted you to go back and forth rather than pushing this wheeled machine. And deep down, it was also an excuse to admire the blond boy at the table 7. When you came back from your last trip down the aisles and there were no books left on the cart. You noticed with a sad expression on your face that both boys were gone. What did you expect? A romantic scene where love story is born in the aisles of a bookstore cafe. What's the point? You might not even have been his type. Correction: You were certainly not his type. Maya came over to you, a mischievous half-smile on her face.

"If you're wondering. His name is Harrison. I heard his friend call him. And he kindly tipped you 25 pounds."

"I don't work here."

"It's just like"

"I would probably never see him again, Maya"

"Believe me, I have a feeling that you will."

☙♡❧

And she was right. The following week did not bring the handsome stranger, the following week either. You had totally, or almost, forgotten this delicious abrupt encounter. You were in the aisles of the cafe, looking for the next book you were going to devour when you were politely tapped on the shoulder, a throat clearing accompanying the gesture.

"Hm, excuse me?"

You turned around and your eyes widened a little in surprise. You did not expect, or more, to see this beautiful stranger again. He was holding a book in his hands and looked nervous. His demeanor was endearing and you couldn't help but suppress a shy smile.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking to get my mom a book. I've heard of this one but ... I wanted your advice."

You raised an amused eyebrow. He wanted to buy a book from his mom and he went to a coffee shop to ask you for advice on a book he obviously couldn't buy here. You found this sweet and awkward. You gave him a shy and mischievous smile.

“You know you're not supposed to buy the books here… just read them. »You joked

"Hmm, yeah ... but ... I wanted your opinion since ..."

"I don't work here ..."

The surprise was read in his eyes as in yours but for different reasons. Harrison felt silly for asking you when you weren't an employee. You, you were surprised by your tone, which seemed so cold when it was not your intention. You didn’t want to be rude to him. In fact, he makes you a little bit uncomfortable. You had never been so awkward with a boy but, for some reason you didn't know, his piercing blue eyes bowled you over. You couldn't deny that you were drawn to him and there was something really spellbinding about Harrison. To catch up you glanced at the book, you wrinkled his nose and you scratched your head

“I'm sorry, this is not the kind of novel I read ... But if she read Fifty-shade of Grey ... this book might please her” you told him, somewhat embarrassed.

Harrison gave you a confused look and you pointed to the cover of the book. To be fair, although he won't admit it, Harrison had grabbed the first book he saw off the storage cart and it actually turned out that it was an erotic fiction rather categorized in the young adult, a bestseller. Honestly, you didn't know where to put yourself. You watched the cheeks of the boy in front of you turn deep red.

"Okay ... Okay. I wasn't there for my mom."

"No shame ..." you tried to comfort him

"No..no i swear. It..i'm … okay ...

A boy with curly hair appeared in the aisle, calling out to the young man, breaking that awkward moment between you at the same time. Harrison's friend seemed vaguely familiar to you, as if you knew him or seemed to know him.

"Harrison, we're late. Tom's gonna kill me, mate!"

Harrison gave a sigh of relief that he seemed to have held back. He gave you a sorry smile and apologized before leaving you, putting the book down on a shelf. They headed for the exit and you stayed there, without moving, still challenged by this moment. You heard a laugh that came from the curl without actually hearing the reason.

"Did you ask her advice about 365 DNI? What kind of div are you?"

"Shut up Harry."

And Harry's laugh echoed one more time before the door closed on them. After a few seconds, you returned to the counter where your best friend was. She nodded at you, as if asking like it had happened. You have to shake your head negatively while shrugging your shoulders. It was the most bizarre interaction you have had in your life. A total failure. With that, he was sure you would never see him again.

☙♡❧

But you were wrong again. You were, again and again, at the cafe. Maya was finishing her shift and you were sitting at a table with a book in your hand. You were in your own little world when your gaze was drawn to a male hand, wearing rings highlighting the veins of that said hand, placing a cup of latte on your table.

"I didn't order any-" you said before interrupting you.

Harrison was in front of you, a shy little smile drawn across his face. You frowned, intrigued. How had he guessed your favorite drink? A simple glance over the blond's shoulder told you your answer: Maya was smiling at you, thumbs up, as a token of encouragement. You looked Harrison, pursed your lips, flattered by the gesture.

“I wanted to apologize for the other time.” Harrison finally spoke.

“It's nothing ... I..I hope your mom liked the book.” you just told him with a little smile

"I… It wasn't for her."

"Oh..for whom?" you asked intrigued.

He smirked, amused by your carelessness. Was he not obvious, however? Since the day he met you, the actor hadn't stopped thinking about you. Tom and Harry kept telling him that he was completely whipped and looked like a fool.

"For no one actually. I grabbed the first book I found."

"But why?" you seemed more confused.

"I wanted to see you. It was a pretext… I didn't know how to approach you."

Your cheeks turned as red as Harrison's the last you met him. You were flattered but at the same time surprised to know that he was interested in you. You've replaced a strand of hair behind your ear, blushing. An awkward silence has settled between you two. Neither of them really knew how to break the ice. Harrison looked up at the book you had put on the table when he arrived.

"What do you read?" he asked interested

“One day by David Nicholls. It’s the one of the most moving books I have ever read.”

And you started talking for hours about how this book moved you and how Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess' portrayal in the film adaptation blew your mind. How you went from laughter to tears to anger. How you got attached to the characters in both the book and the movie. Harrison couldn't stop you. He admired you talking with passion and found you endearing. The way you spoke with your hands or the way you frowned when some character action disturbed you. You were in your world and he wanted to enter it.

"I hope we end up like them." He said, interrupting you.

You suddenly stopped in your monologue looking at Harrison puzzled. You didn't expect this. First, because by knowing the story of this novel. You didn't want anyone to experience people's stories, no matter how beautiful it was. Second, did Harrison just say he was considering something with you?

"Like who?" you asked

"Emma and Dexter ... I hope we have such a great story."

You pursed your lips, amused. You swallowed to keep from laughing and you shook your head. You were sure he didn't read the book but you wanted to play with him a little.

"I don't hope so."

"Why? Their love story is beautiful!"

"You haven't read this book have you?"

"Of course yes!" he defended himself, uncomfortable.

In truth, he was lying. He was trying to impress you. He had simply said he wanted to live this love affair to soften you and try to approach you to ask for a date. Once again, you smiled, genuinely amused by the boy in front of you. He looked so innocent and so confident in her walk. But you knew ... You knew he hadn't read the book.

"Harrison, she dies at the end"

Harrison's cheeks have once again turn red. He played with his hands nervously, embarrassed. He was an idiot, a complete fucking div. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to let go of all the stress he had accumulated but also to find a way to make up for it. You were blowing him outright. He thought you were so beautiful and had never been so awkward about approaching a girl. Of course, Harry had introduced him to his ex-girlfriend. But, the actor had never had a hard time flirting. He knew his strengths, he was kinda funny, can't deny he was pretty handsome, after all he was a model. He was also an actor, he could play all emotions, recite hundreds of lines of dialogue. But you looked different and he was unable to have a conversation with you without being ridiculous. You found that rather adorable.

"Okay, okay. I don't hope we end up like them."

“I hope you don't wait 20 years before asking me out?”

Harrison looked at you surprised. Did you really just reach out to her? Did he hear what you just said or did his imagination play a dirty trick on him? Her heart skipped a beat. You pursed your lips before putting on a warm but shy smile. You weren't that confident in normal times but ... but it was pushing you out of your comfort zone. You liked him, his clumsiness made you laugh and moved you a lot. You wanted to know him better. And with a simple smile, Harrison knew he had the green light.

"Would you ... have coffee with me?"

"I'm already taking one with you, idiot" you joked ...

"Yeah..hmm, okay ... um. Would you like to go on a date ... one day?"

Your smile widened. You didn't know if he had chosen his last words intentionally but you liked to think he had. And if it wasn't, that awkwardness had melted your heart. You bit your lip, a smile still on your face. Your cheeks were rosy with emotion. Eventually, you might have had your romantic story at a coffee shop / bookstore.

“Yes, Harrison. I would like to go out with you.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfeild fluff #harrison osterfield writing #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield

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misscaptainamericana · 3 years

Text

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary - You are working as a barista working in New York after the events of CA:TFA but before The Avengers. It’s the gap of time where they were trying to let Steve adjust to the times. He stops into your coffee shop every morning before he goes out to explore the city.

Word Count - 1203

Author’s Note - This is for @thefanbasewhore ‘s writing challenge :) I chose the coffee shop trope, obviously.

Coffee shop: Character A meets Character B and falls madly in love with them.

Butterscotch

You started off your mornings the way you normally do, alarm goes off at four, it takes twenty minutes to get ready and then a forty minute commute to your job. It was a nice little local coffee shop you have been working at since high school. Now a twenty-something, you were entrusted to open the shop and be lead barista in the morning.

Can I have a coffee?”

“Yeah, sure what size?”

Steve looked up at you confused, “Just a cup of coffee.”

“Right, do you want a small, medium, or large cup?” You asked before pointing over to the cup display to your right.

“Oh, I-uh-a medium. Medium is good, thank you.”

“Just a normal black coffee or do you want a latte?”

Steve looked up at the menu before looking back down to you, “I hate to say it but your menu is a little daunting.”

You peered over your shoulder at the menu, “Well, I could make it simpler for you if you would like.” You looked back over at him with a smile.

“Uhm, sure if you aren’t too busy.”

“First morning rush is over, we have some time.” You reassured him before going into your long explanation. “There is the regular black coffee that you would get anywhere. Cold brew is like stronger coffee; it's cold and pressed. A latte is steamed milk with a shot of espresso and a cappuccino is that with a layer of foam on top. An americano is a shot of espresso and water. A macchiato is a shot of espresso over milk. And basically a mocha is anything with a hot chocolate base instead of milk. There are these things called frappes, which is blended ice coffee, but we don’t do that here. It’s basically just a lot of different ways to drink coffee.” You looked back at the wide eyed man across the counter with a smile as he cleared his throat.

He had stopped listening a while ago, he was distracted watching her ramble on about coffee with a smile.

“Right, well, how about I take my normal coffee today and when I come back tomorrow you can surprise me with something from that long list?”

“That sounds like a great plan, It’ll be right up.”

You quickly poured some coffee into a medium cup before putting the lid on it and setting it next to the cash register, “That’ll be two dollars.”

Steve handed her a five dollar bill, “You can keep the change. Um, I’m Steve.”

You took the money with a smile, “Well thank you Steve, I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N…” He smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The week went by so quickly. Each time the bell chimed you turned your head to the door to see if it was him. It had become a fun gaYou almost came in on your day off because you were so excited to see him again.

“What do you have for me today?” You sighed, “I’m so sorry, you had every type of coffee we have both hot and iced. I don’t have anything else I can offer you.

His breath caught in his throat and he felt his heart skip a few beats.

Was that it? Really? You listed off so many in the beginning he thought he had so much more time.

Steve nodded while clearing his throat and looked around the coffee shop before something caught his eye, “Oh, wait! What are those?”

You turned around to follow his gaze before letting out a small laugh, “Oh, those are our syrups. You can flavor the coffee to make it taste better.”

“Can I… try them as well?”

How could you say no to that smiling face?

“Of course! Do you know which style of coffee you liked the most for me to put it in?”

“Well, which one is your favorite?” “The iced macchiatos.” “Then let’s try it.” Steve said with a shy smile tucking his hands in his pockets.

“We have almond, brown sugar swirl, butterscotch, caramel, cinnamon dolce, coconut, french vanilla, hazelnut, irish cream, mocha, pumpkin pie, salted caramel, vanilla, and vanilla bean.” “Great, that’s good. That’s a lot of options. Uhm, can we just start from the top?”

You let out a small laugh, “You got it, an almond iced macchiato coming at ya!”

The next two weeks went by in a blur of morning small talk, warm smiles, and iced coffee. When Steve walked into the coffee shop, he patiently waited in line watching you work. You moved from one end of the counter to the other with such grace.

You looked up at him with a smile, “Steve! My favorite regular! Good morning! What can I get ya this morning?”

He dug his wallet out of his pocket and shrugged, “Whatever’s next on the list.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, “I’m sorry Captain, the list is done.”

Steve tilted his head to the side in disbelief, “You mean that’s it? There’s nothing else I can try?”

Shaking your head with a small frown, “That’s it, that’s officially all I got for ya. So, did you find something you like or is it back to black coffee?”

“Yeah…I, uhm, I did. I did find something I like.” He paused almost second guessing if he would really be able to ask you. “Can I have your number?”

“My number?”

“If you’re seeing someone I apologize, I didn’t mean to impose I-”

“No, no, I’m not seeing anyone. I’m single… I-just-hold on.” With a big smile you grabbed a napkin out of the dispenser on top of the counter and pulled a pen out of the cup by the register before quickly jotting your number on it. “I get off work at three.”

Steve couldn’t help but blush when you handed the napkin to him, “Thank you, I’ll call you later then.” He folded it up and placed it in his shirt pocket.

Looking over at him you bit your lip slightly before speaking again, “You didn’t answer my question, did you find something you like or just the black coffee?”

“Oh, the black coffee is probably my staple but that butterscotch one you gave me two weeks ago was really great.”

“So all this was just-”

“Me stalling trying to figure out how to ask out, yeah...I’m sorry about that.”

You looked down with a big smile before looking back up at him, “Don’t be sorry, this was great.”

Steve nodded, “I’ve adored seeing you every day.”

“I’ve adored seeing you too… Would you like just a medium black coffee then?”

“Yes, please.”

You nodded before turning to go get a medium cup and pouring some hot coffee into it. You placed the lid on it, drawing a heart and smiley face on the lid in a sharpie before handing it to him.

Steve took the cup and handed you a five dollar bill, “Keep the change, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you! You too, Captain. I’ll talk to you later.”

With a small smile and a nod, he was out the door to continue to wander the streets of New York.

#steve rogers x reader #skys2kchallenge

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wonder-womans-ex · 4 years

Text

Conversations, Conversations, in the Early Morning Glow

Of all the things James was expecting to see today, Sirius Black sitting on his couch at five-thirty in the morning was certainly not one of them.

He had been prepared to get up early, make some coffee and maybe an omelette, and head out for a quick jog before practice. But when he turned on the light, there Sirius was, one leg propped up over his knee, fingers drumming nervously on the sole of his shoe.

Sirius looked up. They stared at each other for a moment, and then James took off his glasses and put them back on again. “Hello,” he said.

Sirius bothered with none of the preamble. “How do you tell someone you’re in love with them?”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m in love with someone and I want to tell them so, but I don’t know how.”

After taking a moment to process this information, James walked over to the kitchen. “I need caffeine for this conversation,” he said, glancing backward over his shoulder. “Want a coffee?”

“I—yeah. Sure. No sugar—”

“Lots of milk. I know.”

They grinned at each other, but Sirius’s smile was slightly… off. There was something tense about it, almost like he was holding back.

The coffee machine whirred quietly to life, red light blinking on, and James grabbed two mugs from the cupboard: the WORLD’S BEST DAD one Kuny had given him after Harry’s birth, and the one with the rubber ducks Sirius always used. He filled the kettle with water, flipped the switch on the side, and finally spun around to face his friend.

Sirius had hopped up to sit on the counter and was swinging his legs slightly, bumping them in turns against the dishwasher; his gaze was focused somewhere on the floor in front of him. James paused for a moment before walking over and sitting beside him. “If Lily catches us, we’re both toast,” he said, finally, trying to lighten the mood. The corners of Sirius’s lips twitched up only slightly, and that was when James knew something was truly bothering him.

“So.” The two of them took a breath almost in unison. “I’m going to need some backstory here. Are you in a relationship with this person? Are you merely admiring from afar?”

“In a relationship.”

No matter what he had asked, James had assumed Sirius was merely harbouring a crush. He’d thought that surely, if Sirius was dating someone, he’d say something about it. “You have a girlfriend? And you didn’t tell me?”

“That’s the other thing.” A pause, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I’m gay, James.”

For the second time that morning, James took a moment to process this. He arranged his face—or tried to, anyway—into an expression that less resembled someone who had recently run into a brick wall, and then he put a reassuring hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “You have a boyfriend? And you didn’t tell me?”

The look of relief Sirius gave him was both immense and immediate. “Well, it’s pretty recent. Only a few months, really—since my birthday—and… I was scared. I’m still scared, but not as much as I was. But I love him. I really, really love him, and I want him to know that.”

Nodding, James slid forward off the counter to pour the now-boiling water into the top of the coffee machine. “Is it anyone I know? Is he from Gryffindor?”

“Yeah, you know him. It’s—well, it’s Loops.”

“Remus?” James jerked his hand backwards, away from the spill of hot water from the kettle. He hissed in pain when a drop landed on his wrist. “Remus Lupin? Our PT?”

“One and the same.” Even without looking, he could hear the smile in Sirius’s voice.

“And you want to tell him you love him?”

“Yeah.”

“And you came to me for advice?”

Sirius leaned over and smacked his arm. “I can’t tell whether you’re insulting yourself or me more.”

“Shut up. But in all ser—sincerity… does he love you, too?”

“I think so,” Sirius said, biting his lip. “I hope he does, anyway. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.”

James whistled quietly, not wanting to risk waking Harry. A crying child was the last thing either of them needed. “God, you’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Look.” James crossed his arms, staring Sirius right in the eyes. “I’m only going to say this once. You are my best friend. You are the third most important person in my life, falling just behind my wife-to-be and my son. If I had to pick one person to be stranded with on a deserted island, the only reason I would not choose you is that I think we would die within a week because neither of us actually has that much common sense. That being said, there are very few situations in which I would not trust you with my life. In the words of the youth, you are my bro.”

“Why is this starting to sound like a marriage proposal?”

“Fuck off. The point is, Pads, you deserve the best of the best. You deserve someone you love and who loves you. If that’s Loops, that’s amazing and I support you. If it ends up not being him, I’ll be here for you, and I’ll make sure any future boyfriends you may have don’t break your heart. Got that?”

For a moment, Sirius said nothing, and James grew more and more worried by the second. “Cap? You okay?”

“No, I’m not okay, you fucker; I’m crying.”

“I hope they’re happy tears.”

“What do you think?” Swiping the back of his hand across his eyes, Sirius let a grin spread across his face. “Are we supposed to bro hug now?”

“You know what; why not.” Even just two years ago, they would have put their arms around each other nervously before awkwardly pulling away again (hell, two years ago Sirius probably wouldn’t have suggested it in the first place), but now they were miles past that, James even rubbing a noogie onto the crown of Sirius’s head.

“Coffee machine looks like it’s about to overflow.”

“Oh, thanks.” There was a comfortable silence as James poured out two mugs of coffee and added milk (Sirius’s) and sugar (his own), not broken until Sirius, mug in hand, said quietly, “How do you think I should tell him?”

“Well, my advice, which is flawed at the best of times, would be to just tell him. But if you were planning on doing that, then chances are you wouldn’t have come to me in the first place.”

“I want it to be… I dunno. Romantic.” Sirius raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip. “This is the worst coffee I have ever had in my life.”

“Well, duh. For the romantic part, I mean. Not the coffee.”

Laughing under his breath, Sirius poked him. “Try it. It sucks.”

“It does not—oh.”

“Told you so.”

James was halfway through pouring his coffee down the drain when Sirius’s phone rang. Both men froze.

“Who is it?”

Sirius fished the phone out of his pocket, checking the caller ID. He visibly relaxed at what he saw, swiping up to answer. “It’s Remus,” he whispered.

It was only thanks to the silence of the house that James could hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Baby?” Remus asked. “I’m, uh, I’m at your house—I bused—and, um, your car’s not here.”

“Oh, fuck, is it six already?”

“Yeah.” After a moment, he added, “Where are you?”

“At the Potters’. I’m with James.”

“Are you okay?”

A smile flickered over Sirius’s face. “Yeah. I’m great. I… I came out to him.”

James held his breath until—”Oh,” said Remus.

“Oh? Is that—is that okay? Should I have waited—”

“No, no, of course not,” Remus assured him, the emotion in his voice audible even through the speaker. “I’m just surprised. And I’m proud. God, baby, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me, too.”

“As you should be. Hey, I’m hugging you right now. You feel that? That’s my arms. And now I’m kissing you. Okay?”

Sirius actually giggled, a sound James had never heard him make before. “I’m kissing you back.”

James wasn’t sure whether he grabbed the phone to put at least a temporary stop to all the mushiness, or whether his intention stayed the same all along. In any case, the first thing he said after wresting it out of Sirius’s grasp and pressing it to his own ear was “If you hurt my bro, I’ll kill you.”

“Hi, James.”

“Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. But between you and me—and Sirius, I guess, ‘cause he’s probably listening, too—if I ever hurt him, I think I’d die before you even chose your weapon.”

When James glanced over, he saw that Sirius’s eyes were shining.

“Oh,” Remus added. “And please send Cap back over here. He’s not just my boyfriend; he’s my ride to practice.”

“You got it.” He waited until Remus hung up to say, “Hey, Sirius?”

Sirius took the phone when James held it out to him. “Yeah?”

“Get out of my house and go get your man.”

“Oui.” He slid off the countertop, landing on the floor with a slight thud.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“What Loops said? Over the phone? If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

He got a grin for that, but he also got an elbow in the ribs as Sirius passed by him. “I’m going to tell him. Today.”

“You do that.”

“Wish me luck. I’ll see you at practice.”

“See you,” James said, leaning against the doorframe. “And you’ve already got all the luck you need.”

***

He hadn’t forgotten. He really hadn’t. He’d just had a lot on his mind, and Sirius’s promise of ‘today’ was pushed to the back. But when Cap’s car pulled into the parking lot with Loops in the passenger’s seat, it was brought immediately to the front again. He watched as they shared a warm, private smile, eyes not breaking contact for almost ten seconds.

As soon as they walked through the arena doors, James was there to ambush them. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Well, we are temperamental today.”

“It’s because of your godawful coffee.”

“Touché.”

Sirius smacked his arm. “I’m serious—and please don’t make that pun. I would like to be left alone with my boyfriend, with whom I am very much in love.”

“All right, all right!” James said, raising his arms in mock surrender. Go make out in the PT room; I won’t stop you.”

Remus smiled when Sirius turned to him. “Yeah, sure, we can do that later. You go ahead—I need to talk to Pots for a sec.”

“‘Kay. Love ya.”

“Love you, too.”

Waiting until Sirius disappeared down the hallway to speak, Remus pursed his lips, trying to smother a grin. “Thank you,” he said, finally. “That—how accepting you are, I mean—means a lot to him.”

“I know.”

“No, really. You were the first… you’re the only person he’s told, other than me. Coming out to you—it really goes to show how much more comfortable he is with himself. When we got together… well, he’s really come a long way.”

James waited for a moment, sorting through the emotions in his head. “The thing is… I made him feel like I wouldn’t be accepting. This morning, when we were talking, he said he was scared. I’m part of the reason he was scared.”

Already, Remus was shaking his head. “He wasn’t scared you wouldn’t be accepting; he was scared of other people finding out. No, not of you telling people. Just that they’d find out.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Look, James, the way he grew up—if there’s one thing he learned it’s that if you tell one, you’ve told them all. He came out when he was ready to come out. Maybe not to the world—not yet—but to you.”

He nodded slowly. “I think I’ve got it. Oh—and, Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“He makes you really happy, doesn’t he?”

“Really happy.” Even without the words, Remus’s grin would have said it all.

“You make him happy, too. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

“Thanks—”

“Don’t mess it up.”

Remus laughed. “I should have known. Trust me, though, Pots; I’ve got no intention too.”

That seemed to be that—James made his way to the locker room, catching Sirius’s eyes upon entry and winking. Sirius simply rolled his eyes and walked over, bumping their shoulders together. “What did you guys talk about?”

James didn’t even try to lie. “You, mostly.”

“Should have guessed.” Glancing away briefly, Sirius lowered his voice to barely more than a whisper. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Bullying me into telling Loops I love him?”

“Eh, that was mostly you. I just kind of stood there and let you talk at me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Really, though.” James was only partly joking when he added, “I’ll be here for you again when you want to propose.”

A red flush spread across Sirius’s cheeks. “Maybe not for a while yet,” he said, smiling straight ahead at the jersey hanging in his locker. “But someday.”

#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sweater weather lumosinlove #coops #james potter is a good friend #coming out #tw food mention #tw minor injury #what even is a timeline honestly

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farrawayfromthere · 3 years

Text

Let’s Not Let A Year Pass By This Time

Pairing: Jordan Todd/Emily Prentiss

Word Count: 2k

Summary: After the family annihilator case that had been the last straw for Jordan at the BAU, they don’t see each other for a year.

A/N: for Day 4 of CM Fanfiction Week (Underrated character/pairing); tagging @simmonsmilf and @starry-eyed-spence (gif credit to @j3mily)

Jordan’s in line at a coffee shop in DC, eyeing a chocolate chip muffin in the display case with her name on it.

She fidgets with the zipper on her wallet then wonders with a small sigh if she’d be better off ordering an egg sandwich for the protein.

Today, her team’ll be flying up to a small city in New Hampshire who’s two post offices have both received bomb threats in the last couple days. She knows she’ll be interviewing postal workers all day; she’s gonna need the energy.

“Jordan? Agent Todd? Is that you?”

It’s a voice she hasn’t heard in what feels like a lifetime.

Jordan looks over her shoulder and finds herself face to face with a woman she hasn’t seen in over a year, just a couple customers behind her.

Emily’s face splits into that same huge, brilliant smile Jordan remembers.

“It is you! My god!”

She looks.... really good.

“Agent Prentiss,” Jordan says, eyes growing wide, mouth dropping open slightly.

Emily’s grown her bangs out, pushed them to the sides.

Her dark, dark brown hair falls smoothly, elegantly just past her shoulders.

She’s wearing a black pantsuit, well-tailored. A black, silky looking blouse underneath and black, thick heeled boots that make her feel even taller than Jordan remembers.

She looks, really, really good.

The guy behind her clears his throat and Jordan realizes the line has moved along.

She gestures for him and the lady behind him to go ahead, and reaches for Emily’s sleeve.

“It’s great to see you,” Emily says.

Jordan’s laugh is a disbelieving exhale.

The other woman extends a hand to shake and Jordan feels a strange, subtle swoop in her stomach when their palms press against one another’s.

Emily’s is still cool; Jordan’s, still warm.

Jordan wonders if Emily’s one of those people who always feels cold, just like she’s one of those people who always feels warm.

Suddenly, all the turtlenecks and sweaters she’d seen her wear around the BAU make a little more sense.

Emily’s hand squeezes hers back, and Jordan blinks up at her.

Emily’s eyes are bright, and even through their automatic, habitual coolness, suddenly, a little shy.

“Um, hi,” Jordan says, the words a little breathless.

“Long time no see,” Emily says.

“You’re telling me.”

Emily blinks and gives her a rueful little half-grin.

“I never called.”

“Well, I didn’t either,” Jordan says, keeping humor in her voice, “I meant to, in that first month, but—.”

“We just got so busy after you left. I didn’t realize how much time was passing, I’m so sorry,” Emily says.

They’d told each other they would stay in touch, but the days and weeks and months had just—slipped by.

By the time Jordan realized that an unacceptable amount of time had passed and she’d yet to make good on her promise to grab lunch or dinner with the older agent, the mere idea of picking up the phone and dialing her number made Jordan feel antsy with unease.

It would’ve been too weird; too awkward.

“It’s okay,” Jordan says, “Neither did I.”

Emily blows air out of her cheeks, expression full of relief.

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah, Prentiss. We’re good.”

She allows herself to take in Emily’s new hair for a moment.

She gestures lazily at it with her index finger.

“I gotta say. I like the no bangs look on you. Very elegant. Very mysterious FBI woman.”

Twin patches of pink appear high in her cheeks.

“Thanks.”

Jordan smiles.

“You still look like you could kill a man with one stomp of those boots though.”

A grin breaks through Emily’s blush.

“Oh, so they’re giving off the energy I’d hoped they would when I bought them?”

“If the energy you had in mind was ‘don’t mess with me’, then yeah, I’d say so.”

“Next,” the young man at the cashier calls.

Jordan winks at Emily, then steps forward to order her sandwich and coffee. She’s surprised when she finishes and the cashier looks over her shoulder to speak to Emily.

Quickly and efficiently, the taller woman orders herself a medium coffee and an old-fashioned donut from the display case. She pays for both of their orders without a moment’s hesitation, before Jordan can even open her mouth to protest.

“Thanks,” Emily tells the cashier, while Jordan, stomach swirling with a deep warmth that’s startling in its suddenness, places a couple bills in the tip jar.

They sit at a small table for two by the window.

When Jordan looks up from skim milk and raw sugar into her coffee, Emily’s eyes are already cautiously on her.

“So how have you been,” the taller woman asks.

“Uh, good,” Jordan says, then after a moment, ”I’m where I belong.”

“I’m glad,” Emily says, grinning as she mixed cream and a Splenda into her own coffee, “You didn’t seem to like working at the BAU very much.”

“I didn’t,” Jordan says honestly, “But some parts of the experience were better than others. Plus, JJ and I have been friends since our time at the Academy so....”

Emily pushes her hair behind her shoulders, revealing small silver disk shaped earrings that glimmer as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Jordan hesitates just a moment before saying it.

“I’ve gotta say: You look good, Emily.”

Emily’s eyes twinkle; a pleased smile spreads across her face, so genuine that Jordan realizes, for the first time, that Emily Prentiss has a perfect pair of tiny dimples.

Her eyes take in Jordan’s pristine navy blazer, her well styled ponytail. They linger briefly on her mouth, today a deep plum.

“Well, you look better.”

Jordan almost spits out her first sip of coffee; She’s acutely aware that her cheeks have just gone very hot.

Emily‘s smile is a bit too smug for Jordan’s liking. She rolls her eyes.

“I know I do.”

“Oh, really,” Emily exclaims with a grin.

Jordan looks down at her egg sandwich for a moment, appetite suddenly non-existent.

The fluttering in her stomach, the smell of Emily’s perfume is making it hard to think.

She smiles a small, tentative smile.

“How’s life?”

Emily takes a sip from her coffee.

“You know. Chasing down serial killers most days of the week, coming home, watching re-runs of The Sopranos, passing out. Rinse... and repeat.”

Jordan tilts her head.

“No special someone or someones’ to keep things interesting?”

Emily meets her eyes.

“Well I don’t know about special.... Distractions? Sure... but... uh... nobody I care very much about, and definitely nobody who cares very much about me. What about you?”

Jordan snorts.

“I don’t know about special,” she says, repeating Emily’s earlier words before half-smiling and shaking her head, “No. Nobody.”

“That’s good.”

Jordan raises a brow.

Emily winces at herself.

“I mean.... hey, that’s... it’s tough out here?”

Jordan laughs, the sound loud and genuine.

Emily hums, taking a sip of her coffee.

“How’s JJ,” Jordan asks, “The rest of the team?”

Emily sets her coffee down and smiles a soft smile.

“Good. She’s good. We all are,” Emily says, then after a pause, “She loves Will and Henry very much. I think they’re what keep her going now... but... I also think they make everything much harder than it used to be for her. She sees them in every case, and it scares her so much, even though she’ll never admit it.”

Jordan nods, understanding.

“I bet it helps though,” she muses, “To have someone to come home to. People to hold you at the end of those long-ass days you all have over at the BAU.”

Emily’s smile grows more faint.

“I wouldn’t know,” she says quietly.

“Well,” Jordan says, just as quiet, “Neither would I. But that’s what I imagine.”

“Yeah, well... it didn’t work out very well for Hotch,” Emily says.

Jordan fixes her gaze on her coffee.

She’d been overseas during Haley Hotchner’s funeral; she’d wondered how her murder had affected the team at the BAU, how it had affected Emily.

They all already had trust issues... she wondered just how much more they all feared intimacy now....

Emily seems to return to her senses, eyes darting up to meet Jordan’s and startling a little when she recognizes the compassion Jordan can’t help but feel for her.

Emily had been the best part of her time at the BAU.

And okay, maybe Jordan had developed a little, truly tiny, irrelevant crush on her in that time, and maybe.... maybe it had been a little devastating that they’d never gotten in touch again after she’d left the BAU—

Regardless, Jordan wants the woman sitting across from her to be happy.

She smiles faintly at her, then her eyes catch sight of the clock hanging over the cafe’s entrance and she starts.

“Shit,” she says, standing up, “I’m gonna be late.”

Emily looks up at her, for a second panicked, then she’s scrambling in her bag for something.

“Uh—please wait.”

She pulls out a pen and takes the cafe receipt Jordan’s crumbled up and forgotten on the table.

“We’ve gotta catch up properly, Agent Todd,” she says, scribbling her number on the back of it, “New number.”

Jordan tugs her phone from her purse.

“Just read it out to me, I’ll add you in right now,” she says.

Emily does.

Jordan smiles at it, then hesitates.

“Can I snap a quick photo of you for your contact? I‘m actively working with four women named Emily on three different continents.”

Emily’s eyes flash with a hint of something Jordan can’t decipher, then she nods.

“Sure—uh—how do I look? You’re gonna have to deal with this picture of me forever.”

“You know you look good,” Jordan says, holding up the phone, “But I’ll allow you one retake if you don’t like it.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

Emily straightens her back. She gives a small, close mouthed smile for the picture, dark eyes looking deeply into the camera.

“One... two... okay, got it.”

Jordan shows the picture to her and Emily grimaces.

“Ugh.”

Jordan scoffs.

“Oh, come on. You look like an English rose or whatever. It’s a good picture.”

“An English rose,” Emily repeats, laughing.

Jordan glances down at her still open camera and, lips quirking, snaps another photo.

This time, she catches Emily, eyebrows drawn up in amusement, grinning. She’s looking warmly out at Jordan over the lens of the camera rather than looking into it head on.

“Oh, I’m keeping this one.”

“What? Hey. Wait, let me see.”

Jordan shows her and Emily groans.

“No.... no, no, no.”

“Too bad it’s your one retake, huh?”

“But I didn’t even know you were taking it!”

“My phone, my rules,” Jordan says, putting her phone away and looking down at her with a grin, “I guess I’ll talk to ya later.”

Emily’s still grumbling under her breath.

Jordan lets a hand fall on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before making for the doors.

“Hey Jordan,” she hears behind her.

And Jordan remembers in that moment that she likes the sound of her first name in Emily’s mouth.

She looks over her shoulder.

“Let’s not let a year pass by this time, alright,” Emily calls.

Jordan laughs, “Let’s make it two!”

“Please don’t,” Emily calls back.

“Or three!”

On the train, she tugs out her phone again, smiling a little at Emily’s contact photo.

She dials her number and Emily picks up on the second ring.

“Well this is nice. You gave me your real number,” Jordan says.

Emily snorts.

“I see you have a very high opinion of me.”

Jordan hesitates.

“Well, I’ll be honest... I don’t know you very well. All I know....”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a gentle whoosh.

“All I know was that you were the only thing that made my time at the BAU bearable, Emily. You stood up for me when nobody else did. You cared enough to check up on me when I was having a bad day. Even when I just acted like a jerk in return. And I’ll never forget that.“

She stops to let the honesty of her words hang in the air, then:

“I honestly was a little bummed out that we never hung out outside of work like we said we would.”

Emily seems stunned into silence by Jordan’s honesty.

Jordan doesn’t care.

She’s happy she’s said it.

Happy Emily knows that she brought good into someone’s life, at least for a little while.

“I don’t know what to say,” Emily murmurs.

“You’re one of those people who can’t handle intense sincerity, huh,” Jordan jokes.

Silence again; she must be walking.

Jordan can hear the click of her thick heels even over the phone.

“Not on a daily basis, no,” Emily says at last, but there’s a happy edge to her voice, “Confession from me?”

“Go for it.”

“It bummed me out a little too, that we never got together like we’d planned. You were excellent company, Jordan Todd. And I... I guess I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve really missed you.”

Jordan finds herself smiling.

“Sap.”

Emily laughs and Jordan chuckles in response.

For a second there’s silence on the line, then:

“Let’s get lunch this week,” Emily says, “Someplace good.”

Jordan bites the inside of her lower lip, trying to fight her own smile, knowing it’s a fight she’s going to be having with herself all day.

She knows today will be the day she’ll be called out for asking about bomb threat details with a glimmer of a smile on her face.

She doesn’t care.

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Name the place and I’m there.”

#cmficweek #jordan todd x emily prentiss #jormily #damn it they could've been great #jordan todd #emily prentiss #sbshfjsjdkdkrjrjr i don’t know what this is

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patchworkpuzzle · 3 years

Photo

‘Come, sit and enjoy yourself!’

Opens on Friday August 27th at 2pm EST

I am a little late with this one, seeing as I surpassed 600 a little bit ago, but was too busy in requests and collabs! But hey, here we are now!

I am really excited for this, as it is my first ever event I am doing/holding for myself! So I am planning for this to be a lot of fun for everyone who wants to participate. Plus I had a lot of fun with the theme, thanks to everyone saying my blog is like a Café cause otherwise this would be as fun as it is!

Crazy how I managed to get so many of you to follow me and being the best supporters for my work! I cannot thank you all enough!

But I think that’s enough of all my chattering, let me start the coffee pots for you all! And though I only have a limited supply of everything, you don’t have to worry, I’ll be open again soon!

Please take a look at the menu! And try to limit yourself to ONE or TWO items, as I don’t wanna mess up your order or have the person in line after you without.

- Coffee (0/10) Add whatever you like to help me make a perfect matchup curated especially for you!

Sugar - a fandom you would like

Sweetener - a trope that is your favourite

Cream - a little about yourself

Milk - what you like in a partner

Or if you prefer it black, I can come up with whoever I want!

- Latte (0/10) let me make the most perfect latte for you, obviously there are ingredients I have to put in, but you can always add your favourite flavour!

Espresso - who is your fave, can’t be on a date without them!

Steamed Milk - what kind of dates do you love to be on? Is there a dream date you wish to be on?

(Or) Oat Milk - what kind of scenario do you see when meeting them for the first time?

Foam - want a little extra? No problem, just tell me a bit more detail about this date!

Flavours:

Vanilla - first date! how exciting, though it may be a bit awkward (fluff)

Mocha - long day? this, and they, will cheer you up! (comfort)

Pistachio - didn’t go that great, huh? well, here’s hoping! (angst)

Pumpkin Spice - did it go great? then maybe something happens after~ (smut)

Lavender - sit back and relax, just tell me who you like, and I’ll do the rest!

- Frappe (0/10) from strawberry funnel cake, mocha cookie crumble, to java chip! I have plenty to choose from - just tell me who the name is!

Send in your self-ship and I’ll give you some cute HC’s!

- Want a dessert to go with that? (0/10) Or just want one of these yummy treats instead of a drink, no worries! What’s your favourite?

Cookies: Fluff

Muffins: Song-fics

Scones: Hurt/Comfort

Brownies: Dark Content

Lemon Bars: Smut

+ Cinnamon Bun: My personal favourite of whatever genre!

also, just so people aren’t confused! You can order two desserts in one ask (like you want fluff and smut you can order cookies and lemon bars and it will only count for one slot!)

#cannot thank you all enough!#i'm excited #and happy #to take your order!#💛💛💛#🧩.patchy's 600 followers event

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roman-writing · 4 years

Text

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said.

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt.

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush.

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day.

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things.

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again.

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table.

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.”

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?”

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.”

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.”

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.”

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger.

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend.

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left.

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded.

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.”

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?”

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet.

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head.

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.”

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers.

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up.

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet.

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work.

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly.

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said.

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister.

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.”

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice.

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?”

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?”

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face.

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?”

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.”

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her.

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.”

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart.

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve.

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth.

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide.

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household.

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said.

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.”

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.”

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window.

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!”

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said.

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.”

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship.

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be.

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself.

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights.

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages.

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat.

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid.

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.”

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?”

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.”

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess.

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in.

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate.

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie.

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full.

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?”

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.”

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her.

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things.

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him.

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question.

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again.

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy.

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?”

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place.

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared.

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb.

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning.

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away.

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course.

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine.

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise.

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted.

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist.

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite.

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs.

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide.

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner.

“Jamie Taylor?”

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her.

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different.

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment.

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away.

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware.

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met.

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable.

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress.

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself.

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring.

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin.

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed.

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked.

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled.

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake.

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning.

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?”

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away.

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed.

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned.

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified.

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively.

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all.

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton/jamie #bring home a haunting #dani clayton #jamie taylor #cfau #roman writes #FINALLY

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muselover1901 · 4 years

Text

Part 1

And so it begins! This is going to be a fun little Coffee Shop AU where we pass off the next part to another author until we finish it. @intangiblyyourswrites, you’re up next!

The streets of Hateno are welcoming enough, but Zelda feels out of place. In such a rural village, it's easy for residents to pick out who doesn't belong—and a prim looking graduate student from Hyrule University definitely doesn't fit in with the fields and farmers. Her advisor, Dr. Purah, has assured her that the suspicious glances end after the first month, but two weeks in, Zelda's not so sure they will. She pauses to examine herself in the window of the East Wind General Store. Perhaps it's the way she dresses when she's not doing fieldwork? Maybe if she exchanges her peacoat for a hoodie, she'll be a little more inconspicuous…

She shakes away the thought—she has a mission this morning. Purah and Robbie nearly pulled an all-nighter discussing the ancient technology excavation sites the evening prior, and they needed some serious caffeine before they'd be able to go through the plans together this morning. She passes the grain elevator next to the general store and arrives at the cafe Purah recommended—Kochi Coffee Shop. It's not particularly fancy by castle town standards, but by Hateno standards it seems almost classy. She opens the door, and joins the line.

Inside, the walls are a cozy golden shade, and sunlight filters down through the skylights to give the space a summery warmth. There are probably close to fifty plants, some of them hanging down from the ceiling and others nestled on shelves, but all of them well-tended. Some of them even look like herbs—could they be using them in the kitchen?

A strange looking man with an aggressively pink comb-over pushes through the kitchen doors, bringing a steaming breakfast sandwich to a customer waiting at the end of the counter. He appears to be the cafe owner, but she's never seen a more jarring shade of magenta—he can't be from around here, but he seems utterly unfazed by the stares of the patrons. At least Zelda doesn't look as out-of-place as he does. He gives the barista a friendly pat on the shoulder as he returns to the kitchen, and when Zelda's eyes refocus on the young man behind the counter, she suddenly forgets all about the pink hair.

The barista is… normal looking at first glance. But as she looks more closely, she is surprised by the calm way he carries himself despite the chaos of the morning rush. His hands move with smooth precision as he types in an order and plucks a cup from the stack to begin making a drink. When it's completed, she catches a glimpse of his shirt, a snug, soft-looking blue thing that reads, "This is my tea shirt." She huffs a little laugh.

As the line moves along, she gets close enough to notice more of him. He has a little name tag pinned to his shirt that reads "Link," which is a rather unusual name. His hair also is quite long for a country boy - fluffy bangs and loosened locks frame his face, and he has most of it pulled back into a messy ponytail. If this wasn't rural Hyrule, she'd assume he was some kind of hipster.

"Welcome to Kochi Coffee Shop, what can I get you?"

Zelda startles for a moment before remembering what she came for.

"Oh, sorry, let me just…" She pulls out her slate and digs up the message from Purah this morning with their orders. "Okay, I need one large triple-shot mocha with cinnamon and no milk for Purah, and one large blonde roast for Robbie."

"Any cream or sugar with that?"

"Uh…" She double checks the message. "Nope. Black."

He writes the orders on the cups, and even labels them with Purah and Robbie's names. She's immediately impressed by his attention to detail (and by the fact that he spelled both of their names correctly without asking her).

"Alright," he smiles and looks her right in the eyes, "Now that we've got them squared away, is there anything I can get you?"

The teasing tone of his voice catches her off-guard a little. His eyebrows raise when she doesn't answer right away.

"Um, yes, actually," she straightens and continues, "I'd like a large cup of Earl Grey, steeped for three and a half minutes, with just a splash of cream and no sugar. Oh, and make sure the cup is filled to the top, please."

Link has to take a second to wipe the incredulous look off his face before he chuckles, "Sure thing, Miss. Is that three minutes and thirty seconds exactly?"

Is he making fun of her? Two can play at that game.

"Yes, if it's not too hard for you."

This only serves to make him smile more as he punches in her order, and Goddess above, he has dimples. Dimples and a strong jaw and pretty little creases by his eyes—Zelda has to force herself not to stare. She looks pointedly at the bakery display.

"Those little fruitcakes you're glaring at are really good. I finished making them a couple hours ago."

Zelda's jaw drops. "You made them?"

"Yeah, we make everything from scratch here. You should try one."

She stutters as she tries to conjure up some kind of excuse about how she really shouldn't have sweets this early in the morning and she's already running late to the planning meeting, but before she can finish, Link's hand is reaching into the display and pulling out a perfectly decorated little cake.

"Here, you can have this one on the house. I don't add much sugar to them because the fruit is already plenty sweet, but I'll pack it up for you so you can have it with lunch."

Zelda's voice returns to her. "I cannot possibly accept that without paying for it, please just let me—"

He presses a container into her hands.

She pushes it back.

He laughs at her stubbornness, dimples reappearing on his cheeks. He pushes the cake to her again, but this time he snatches her hand from the counter and holds it firm against the container. His touch is warm, but his eyes are warmer.

"Can I get your name, Miss?"

She flushes pink. He seems to realize he's flustered her, and he removes his hand from hers.

"For the order. So I can call you when it's ready."

"Oh. Yes, right." She takes a deep breath. "Zelda."

He plucks a cup from the stack and writes her name.

"Alright Miss Zelda. I'll have that right out for you."

Ten minutes later, Zelda walks away from Kochi Coffee Shop with her tea, cake, and coworkers' coffee in hand. She sips her tea and sighs—it's exactly the way she likes it. As she walks down the road to the lab, she realizes that she left with three more things than she'd intended to get: the tea, the cake, and a strange fluttering feeling in her chest.

#botw coffee shop au #tag fic #botw zelink #fanfiction #musewrites #Zelink Writers' Union #loz

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the196thbattalion · 4 years

Text

star wars human! high school! au

i’ve seen so many headcanons circling throughout the star wars tumblr about high school au’s, so i wanted to share my bit with all of you :D

anakin skywalker

five words: REBEL CHILD ON A MOTORCYCLE.

he doesn’t like riding the school bus because it makes him feel extremely claustrophobic, so he scrapped and scavenged up parts to make his own customized motorcycle, which he lovingly dubbed artoo.

the blue and silver detailing was the joint effort of ahsoka and obi-wan, because anakin doesn’t know how to paint.

if he can catch up to the bus, he’ll ride alongside it and flip off the students on it before revving on ahead of them. (the freshmen think it’s the funniest thing in the universe)

probably one of the most well-known juniors in the entirety of temple high school (mostly because of his shenanigans but partly because he’s dating padme fuckiNG AMIDALA, PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE DAMN SCHOOL)

he always wears this worn-down leather jacket his mom gave to him before she passed away, and refuses to take it off, even though it’s somehow “a violation of the dress code and should be outlawed.”

his hair alone has seduced eight different students (boys and girls)

sometimes during study hall, ahsoka or padme will get a hold of his hair and style it into little braids or make a super rad ponytail.

he really likes iced coffee with milk and sugar. he puts in the milk to make it nice and light (it’s aesthetically pleasing, obi-wan!), and then like eight tablespoons of sugar to make it actually taste good.

his favorite class is mechanics, taught by kit fisto.

anakin spent months on a mechanical arm project to replace his clunky plastic prosthetic, and he was so freaking happy when it was finished; he almost cried. (he did cry and ahsoka got it on video)

obi-wan kenobi

a mixture of the soft™, pretty™, hippie™, grunge™, vsco™ and nerd™ tropes.

he really likes peppermint tea with lots of honey but takes his coffee black.

he has had too much tea.

someone needs to stop him.

almost all of his classes are ap courses, and if cody hadn’t been watching when obi-wan was making his schedule, all of them would be.

him, cody and padme have ap english with mace windu, and cody knows how much his classes stress him out, so he lets obi-wan sleep during class and sends him the notes

the only ap class obi-wan doesn’t take is mechanics, and he shares that class with anakin.

anakin and obi-wan are super close with each other. kenobi was there when ahsoka was adopted, and anakin was there when kenobi got his cat. (they were like 5 okay)

“NAME IT C3PO OBI-WAN, OR I SWEAR TO FUCK-” “what kind of name is that, and why would i - anAKIN PUT HIM DOWN!?”.

mr. fisto constantly has to split them up for disrupting the class, but it’s almost like they can communicate telepathically, and the teachers have a running bet

mace windu literally bet $50 on these fucking nerds so you know it’s for realsies

in reality, they’ve just gotten super creative with passing notes.

kind of off topic, but he has these brown harry potter glasses that he uses (kinda for reading???? but mostly so he can do that anime pushing up glasses thing)

cody thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

whenever cody is feeling stressed, obi-wan just does the thing™ and BOOM! happiness.

people think he’s a goodie two shoes, and honestly, it’s really easy to think that. if the iconics are trying to do something stupid, he’s usually the voice of reason.

but parties?

…

you know what, just ask anakin for the video footage.

ahsoka tano

this hs!au ahsoka tano turned me bisexual confirmed ✔

okay before i go into her style, which is mainly what made me drool over my computer, can i just put skatergirl!ahsoka out there?

spray painting of the rebellion symbol all over the bottom of her board and on items in a couple of the places where she skates the most (like the back of an abandoned car yard)

her instagram is filled with these super cool vhs-tape recorded skate videos (u know)

lots crackhead 3am visits (starring anakin, rex, kenobi and barris) to a gas station to get slushies and grind the shit out of the curb connecting the store to the parking lot

trying to teach anakin how to skateboard but he just can’t figure it out? uh yes

“try to balance skyguy!” “HOW DO I MOVE? DO I SCOOT? SNIPS THIS ISN’T FUNNY AND I WANT TO GET OFF – GUYS, STOP LAUGHING!”

okay okay okay i’m done

for now

anyway, her style???? is so???? fucking????? cool!!!!!

her genetics gave her a 80% of having vitiligo, so it really wasn’t a surprise when patches of her skin got lighter, but it still freaked her out a little bit.

basically, went like this: “DAD, I’M TURNING WHITE!” “???? oh my gosh ‘soka, no.”

she has long braided dreadlocks she dyed a super bright orange with various colored beads woven into them with the help of anakin and padme. she usually styles them into little space buns atop her head.

her entire clothing wardrobe consists of fishnets, neon bomber jackets, at least 11 bisexual beanies™, handmade patchy jeans, white tank tops, and light-up platform shoes.

she doesn’t give two flying fucks about the dress code, and – IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST BUSY HALLWAY - punched principal sidious over whether or not she “could wear shorts that short” (anakin may or may not have cheered when she broke his nose).

the fetts (chuck have mercy)

*cracks le knuckles* i’ve put it off long enough

we have: fox (24), wolffe (19), cody (17), rex (17), echo (16), fives (16), boil (15), waxer (14), hardcase (13), jesse (12), longshot (8), kix (6), tup (3), gree (2) and boba (9mo)

wolffe is off at college - fox already graduated and moved out, that cheeky little fucking shit - but both still keep in good contact with the fam, and it’s a constant clamor between eleven of the siblings of who gets to talk to them first

fox majored in government/politics, bly is majoring in space/astronomy, and wolffe is majoring in police/law enforcement shit (i don’t know how college works, so sue me)

cody and rex are juniors, and despite their similar looks, the amount of schoolwork each of them completes drastically varies

cody is the honor roll student, valedictorian, whatever you want to call it

rex kinda just either does the work really well or 9/10 times gets distracted by anakin or ahsoka sending him some nice spicy memes

cody tried to tutor rex but it ended up almost landing tup in the hospital

“that’s really simple, actually. if you – vod? rex, are you okay? what are you oH NO TUP DON’T PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH-”

fetts on the varsity football team is like a right of passage in the family

right now, only the juniors of the fett family are on the team, but the coach has eyes on fives and echo for next years team

SPEAKING OF

echo, fives and boil are the infamous sophomore trio that pulled the milk bucket prank on the gym teacher, pong krell.

they had to help the janitor (99) clean up afterwards, but they genuinely enjoyed 99’s company, because he’s rad as shit and knows all the secret school passageways.

to be honest, not one person (except maybe sidious) was complaining

that motherfucker makes everyone run like eight laps during gym class

even mr. windu gives them a small smile in the hallways after that

boil says he was blackmailed into it

waxer is a freshman (the poor dude, i’m so sorry), and he always looks out for the nervous freshies

if someone is having a bad day, he’ll give them a lollipop (he carries around a whole bag), a place to sit during lunch, and a shoulder to cry on

all you need to do to find waxer is to locate this long ass line of children

the school counselor, plo koon, sometimes brings his niece numa into school during the day because he can’t find a babysitter, and waxer. fucking. loves. her. PERIOD.

w+n pull these tiny little pranks on teachers, and the staff pretends not to notice, but numa always giggles and gives them away.

boil has a soft spot for numa too, and sneaks her rice krispies.

bonus shit i want to add in but can’t figure out where to put it (or i’m just gonna add it on and shit)

plo koon adopted anakin after his mother died (him and anakin’s mother were good friends), and found ahsoka on the side of the street, shivering like a maniac.

he doesn’t know where ahsoka came from, but he loves her so gOD DAMN MUCH.

he’s the school counselor, and still keeps in touch with a lot of students even after the graduated (he thinks that majoring in law enforcement/police is a bit dangerous for wolffe but he still supports his unofficial but basically son 100%)

yoda is the super old but radically rad english teacher.

his entire point of existence in my mind fic is to troll the shit out of palpatine.

a recent conversation starring yoda and palps: “did you give the students the mountain of extra work i assigned them?” “for the students, that was?” i’m sorry. my bad, that is.” “this is the seventh time, yoda.”

okay but for real

mace windu violently roots for the school football team.

“BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, CODY! YOU TOO...OTHER CODY!”

“THAT’S A HOLDING! THAT’S A HOLDING!”

“REF IF YOU DON’T COUNT THAT TOUCHDOWN THEN I SWEAR TO SAMUEL L. JACKSON I WILL COME DOWN THERE AND BEAT YOUR SORRY PINSTRIPED ASS!”

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mshermia · 4 years

Text

LYKHIW Timeline - WIP Page

Welcome! This post records the status and progress of my work expanding my Post-Endgame (MCU) series to “Like You’d Know How It Works”.

I left the cinema post-Endgame incredibly mad and disappointed. After I aired my immediate frustration with the movie in two One-Shots, I decided for my own peace of mind, I had to try and salvage the mess that was Endgame somehow, because I simply like the characters too much, not to. A week after I started writing, I published the first chapter on AO3. About a year later, I felt the need to expand on the original fix-it. I have and will continue to add to this timeline, writing different adventures that will mostly focus on Tony Stark and Peter Parker.

Genre: MCU fanfiction

The Fix-It

Like You’d Know How It Works (completed)

Setting: sets in right after the battle at the Compound is over, supersedes the concluding events of Endgame.

Premise: Straight after the battle is won - or lost, depending on your perspective - Peter tries to convince the Avengers to save Mr. Stark by going back into the Quantum Realm.

Tropes: time-travel, quantum realm, protective Peter

Mood: grief & loss, hope, family

Someone had organized this room at Metro General hospital for them to sit and talk. Sitting was not an option for Peter though. He couldn’t bear to sit. He couldn’t bear to have anyone look at his injuries either, not when there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“You said that whatever we do in the past will not change our present!” Peter’s fist hit the table with a crash. They simply weren’t listening. His face felt grimy and tight in places where the dirt from the battlefield stuck to the tears he had cried over Mr. Stark’s body. Maybe he should have thought of washing the traces off his face before confronting a few of the Avengers and Doctor Strange. It might have made him seem a little more collected. A little more rational. “That’s what you just said!”

Chapters 9/9 | 42 K | Teen and Up

Follow-up Shorts and Multi-chapters

Just Outside The Door (completed)

Setting: Days after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise: Peter did it. He found his mentor and brought him back, but sometimes it all just seemed too good to be true. Sometimes, his mind played tricks on him and he just couldn’t sleep, wondering if he had really brought Mr. Stark back or if it had all just been a desperate dream.

Tropes: nightmares, PTSD, protective Tony, Whumptober 2020: No. 23

Mood: fear, working through trauma, comfort

There was only silence in his room now unless you were to count the frantic beat of his heart and the deep shaky breaths he sucked in and blew back out. It hadn’t even been a nightmare this time, not truly. He hadn’t really fallen asleep in the first place. Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of his consciousness and that’s where his thoughts had started to spiral.

Mr. Stark was okay. Peter was… he was pretty sure of that. He had succeeded, had brought him back home and now he was okay. But there was a little voice in the back of his head that kept nagging, that kept telling him that maybe… maybe he was wrong. Maybe it had all been a delusional dream, too good to be true, Peter wishing something into reality that was unobtainable. He had seen his mentor die after all. He had died right in front of him, the memory etched into his memory, right there whenever he closed his eyes. Dimensions, time travel… was that really real?

Chapters 1/1 | 4.2 K | Teen and Up

Nothing Left To Lose (in progress)

Setting: 2 weeks after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

The reversal of the Snap added an additional 3.5 billion people back to Earth’s population. 3.5 billion more people to house somewhere, 3.5 billion mouths to be fed, 3.5 billion people who return to a world that was not expecting them to ever come back.

Tropes: food shortage, starvation, looting, blurred lines of good and evil; Whumptober 2020: No. 3

Mood: anger, desperation, conflicted who to help

Tony groaned, rolling his stiff neck from one side to the other as the gate clicked shut behind Pepper. “Remind me again… Why did we agree to this?”

Pepper didn’t bother to send him a scolding look as she wrapped the security seal around the gate’s locking mechanism. “Because we’re good neighbors?”

“We are?” He smelled like damp fur. When did wet fur and barn animals become his life? “Since when exactly? Was there a house meeting? Did I miss it?”

“Mh… do you need a reminder of the process of negotiation?” She took a step towards him, one hand twisted in his shirt pulling him close against her, their lips almost close enough to touch. “You smell like wet alpaca.”

He pulled in an affronted gasp. The hand that was still holding his shirt pushed him away from her, her lips stretched wide in amusement. “Come on, Cesar. Maybe I’ll remind you after a hot shower.”

Chapters 1/2 | 3.4 K | Teen and Up

Unnamed WIP (unpublished)

Setting: 4 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

For months, Peter has been commuting between the city and the Stark’s remote cabin in the woods. But now that life in NYC has regained some normalcy, he really wants to show Morgan what the greatest city in the world has to offer.

Tropes: power outage, panic attack, PTSD; Whumptober 2020: No. 27

Nope. “Not going down that rabbit-hole, Parker,” he muttered to himself.

“What rabbit-hole?” Morgan was sitting opposite him, munching on the cookies Pepper had put out.

“Nevermind.” Peter scooped two tea spoons of sugar into his coffee, then added another one just to be safe.

“Mommy says coffee corrupts the soul.”

“Please, like you even know what ‘corrupt’ means….”

Morgan tilted her head to the side, just like her mom would do. “I know it’s not nice.”

Peter gave her a look. “Well, your dad says it’s the elixir of life.” And Mr. Stark would know. Peter gave his head one hard shake. Tony. Tony would know. One sip of the black brew and Peter’s teeth hurt. Definitely too much sugar. “Okay, remember what we talked about?”

Morgan sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Ask mommy first!”

“That’s right! Make sure you use those puppy eyes, too.” Morgan nodded along enthusiastically while he quickly nicked her glass of milk and poured a generous potion of it into his mug. “We wait till, you know, till Tony’s gone downstairs or something and then—”

“And then you’ll ask me what?”

Chapters -/2 | - K | Teen and Up

Christmas Eve - At Peace (completed)

Setting: 5 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Just a couple of months after they defeated Thanos, Tony and Pepper throw a Christmas party. Instead of a partying kid, Tony finds his Spiderling outside in the snow at the grave he has been trying to ignore ever exists.

Tropes: anger and grief, blame and fear, no prompt

Mood: wholesome, family, frustration

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean it!" For good measure, he took a healthy gulp from the cup, positively burning his throat in the process. But it wasn't until Harley threw his hands in the air and turned his back in defeat - for now - that Tony allowed his face to cringe at the sting. Those little trouble makers were not helping with his heart condition. Speaking of trouble... "Where is Peter?"

Harley crossed his arms in front of himself, his mind clearly brooding on a new strategy. "No clue."

Tony's next sip of the hot wine was a lot smoother than the first. "What do you mean, no clue?"

"It generally means that the person doesn't have any information about the subject that you are—"

"Alright, short stuff..." Tony's eyes were searching the room but the little spider was nowhere to be seen. "A bit less of the asshole routine please?"

"Listen, if you want me to babysit, same rules apply as they do for Morgan." Brazen in his brattiness, the little shit ladled a good helping of mulled wine into a new cup. "I'll need a heads-up and generous compensation that I'm happy to re-negoti— Hey!"

Harley tried to hold on to the cup that Tony once again just plucked from his hands. "You've had enough of this!"

"That one is for Rhodey," the boy scowled.

Chapters 1/1 | 3.8 K | Teen and Up

The Winter Air (completed)

Setting: 6 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Tony, Peter, and Morgan spent a winter day outside the Stark residence.

Tropes: accident, hurt Tony, hurt Peter, Whumptober 2020: No. 13

Mood: fun to fear, injury, accusations, blame

Well, it wasn’t that easy. Because things were apparently never just easy in the life of one Peter Parker. Turned out, there were still some assholes out there. Not the Thanos-kind. Not for now at least. The regular kind though and Peter for one saw absolutely no reason as to why anything should have changed in his responsibility to stop them from being assholes.

His aunt somehow disagreed more often than she didn’t. Annoyingly now though, she managed to drag Mr. Stark to her side a lot more than she used to, too.

Peter shook his head at himself. Tony. T-O-N-Y. It wasn’t that hard, was it? He still slipped up every so often. But as much as that bugged him, it was the others who bugged him even more. Colonel Rhodes and Hawkeye among them the most willing to tease Peter about it. Him, and Tony too, for his mentor never commented on it with more than a crooked smile. When it was just the two of them, that was often the only indication for Peter, that he had said it again.

It made the times when it really was just them so enjoyable. A new ease between them. They had never had this, this kind of bonding. Sure, they’d spent time together before everything had gone downhill on their little space adventure, in the lab or on a normal earth-bound mission. Not like this though, not like Peter staying over at the Stark residence for a few days at a time. Not like him sliding along-side Morgan on the ice on the lake, trying to catch Tony. Not like Morgan falling over and taking Tony right with her and the way Peter’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard when Mr. Stark’s sweet little Morguna drowsed him with two full hands of snow and he just hadn’t seen it coming.

Chapters 3/3 | 14 K | Teen and Up

Unnamed Multichapter WIP (unpublished)

Setting: picks up where The Winter Air ended, 6 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

First time all of the Avengers come together after the Snap was reversed. With Tony retired, Peter has to find his place in the team and learn to work with the other Avengers without Tony. Tensions are running high with the events of Civil War still largely unresolved and lingering resentments stemming from Peter’s multidimensional rescue mission to save Tony.

Tropes: Avengers mission, mistrust, growing as a team; Whumptober 2020: No.7

Tony’s eyes went wide. Was it possible that…

“Hey, FRI?”

“Good morning, boss. It’s 10:16 am on February 5th, 2024. The temperature outside is—”

“Yeah, just… can you stop for a moment?” He waved her off. “Send Dory out to the lake, would you. There’s some stuff still lying out there on the ice.”

“Right away, Sir.”

Tony watched as the little blue drone circled the lake, getting closer and closer to what he was sure were the Spiderling’s clothes still lying out there, where he had taken them off to—

“Hey, what are you doing out of bed!”

Despite himself, he twitched as Pepper made her way into the room. She had pushed the door open with her hip, balancing his breakfast on a large wooden tablet.

“Here, let me—” Tony stepped towards her, arms at the ready to take the tablet but she held it out of his reach.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get back in that bed!”

Chapters -/- | - K | Teen and Up

There... And Back Again (in progress)

Setting: about a year after Tony was brought back to life

Premise: The Starks drive upstate to the old Mansion where Tony grew up. To Tony’s horror, the trip takes him and the kids a lot further down memory lane than anyone could have predicted.

Tropes: time travel, Howard Stark’s A++ parenting; Febuwhum2021 Day 12 - Who Are You

“Pete, seriously…” Tony looked up into the review mirror trying to catch his eye. “Can you not? I don’t want Morgan up all night, terrified of some dumb ghosts.”

“Come on, it’s just a story, Tony. Morgan knows I made it all up, right?” Peter winked at her, then wiggled his eyebrows in a way that seemed kind of familiar.

“Yeah, daddy.” But Morgan was full-on ignoring Tony, her eyes on Peter trying to imitate the wink and wiggly eyebrows he had just sent her way. “It’s just a story.”

He could do little more than groan as Peter continued to spin a tale of spirits and witches, ancient pacts and promises that had to be kept, ransoms that the spirits had vowed to retrieve.

“It was a night very much like tonight,” Peter continued, his voice low and full of dreadful foreboding, “that the witches broke that pact they had signed with the blood of the innocent…”

“Morgan’s gasp morphed into a giddy giggle while Tony could only rub a hand across his brow and mumbled, "Blood of the innocent, give me a fucking break…”

Chapters 1/3 | 4,4 K | Teen and Up

Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?, (completed)

Setting: 4 years after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Peter takes Morgan into the depths of a National Park so she can collect samples for a biology project.

Tropes: Peter & Morgan, protective Peter, hurt Morgan, hurt Peter, Whumptober 2020: No. 12

Mood: disappointment, mistakes, anger, angst, comfort

“There are so many reasons why online classes are better than going to school.”

Peter shook his head. “And there are plenty of reasons why learning in school with other students is preferable. How it helps retain the material better than—”

Morgan groaned without even looking at him, her nose in the air, eyes on the leafy trees above them. “You can learn the same things at home, only then you could have dinner at night with us instead of in your stinky room in Boston.”

“Hey,” he craned his neck to see where she went, then walked after her. “My room doesn’t stink.”

“It’s a boy’s room.” She said it like that alone was a valid argument, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, the girl’s dorms he had been in—

He stopped himself. Not the time and place.

Chapters 2/2 | 8 K | Teen and Up

#wip #wip page #irondad #spider son #prompt fill #peter parker fic #tony stark #iron dad and spider son #mcu fanfiction #fanfic #LYKHIW-timeline

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onlydreamofmysoul · 4 years

Link

Let Them Eat Cake Part i (Wolfstar Bake off AU)

Welcome back to the newest season of The Great British Bake Off.

Remus walked into the iconic tent, holding his breath. He had quite literally grown up watching this show - it was a staple in the Lupin household and now here he was, about to be on it.

He wasn’t even sure if it had properly hit him yet.

He made eye contact with one or two of the other bakers, some of whom he had begun to get a little acquainted with, all of them smiling nervously back at him and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. This was really happening. He wandered over to the bench he had been assigned, running a hand over the wooden worktop reverently. It was pristine now - all the surfaces were, but Remus knew for a fact that the particular sparkle they boasted would be gone quick enough.

“Welcome bakers!”

Remus looked up as the two presenters; Sirius Black and James Potter waltzed into the room, followed closely behind by the two judges; Minerva McGonagall and Dumbledore. Remus’ breath hitched in his chest in a cacophony of feelings and somehow all he could think of was ‘does Dumbledore have a first name?' Remus had certainly never heard of one.

“It’s lovely to have you all here for this season’s Great British Bake Off.” James said, picking up from where Sirius had left off. “I’m sure you all must be very nervous to meet your judges, but let me assure you,” He paused to look around the room seriously. “The only person you need to impress here is me.”

The room let out a nervous laugh - a quick release of tension and James grinned. “In all seriousness, it is great to have you here. Now, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to our judges.”

McGonagall and Dumbledore both stepped forward, smiling slightly. “Welcome, everybody.” Dumbledore said, looking around the room. “It is with pleasure that I announce that this week is our cake week.”

Remus nodded. They, of course, already knew this, having practiced their showstopper challenge about a million times each (or precisely sixteen and a half in Remus’ case) but this was for the benefit of the viewers. He had to admit, it was really strange looking around the tent he had familiarised himself with long ago and seeing a bunch of cameras and microphones. He had expected them to be there of course, but it was still slightly off putting having someone with a big metal stick follow you around.

“For our first challenge, Dumbledore and I want you to bake twelve individual muffins, with six of one flavour and six of another.”

“Each cake must be identical,” Dumbledore continued, “We’re looking for a lovely even bake with a nice firm inside and of course,” He said looking around teasingly, “No soggy bottoms.”

Remus chuckled along with everyone else in the tent and the two presenters stepped forward once more.

“The time has come Jamie, are you ready?”

“I most certainly am Sirius, but the question is… are our bakers ready?”

Sirius looked right at Remus and grinned. “I suppose we’re about to find out.”

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

Remus set off, measuring his ingredients and pulling out bowls and whisks as the tent broke out into a flurry of movement. He was careful not to let his nerves get the best of him - he would stay calm and take his time, rushing wouldn't help anything. He was vaguely aware of the camera crew moving around the room but he was in his own little bubble for the moment.

“Hey, Remus yeah?”

Remus looked up at the familiar voice and fuck, Sirius Black was talking to him.

“Um yeah, that’s me.” He laughed, trying to pull himself together because there was a camera trained on them and he would be damned if the entire nation saw him make a fool out of himself.

“So, what’re you making today?” Sirius asked, leaning his hip against Remus’ worktop and essentially looking like one of Remus’ many daydreams about the man in that very same leather jacket.

“Enchiladas.” Remus deadpanned and was delighted when Sirius laughed. “I’m making lemon and blueberry and also bacon and maple syrup muffins.”

“Bacon and maple syrup?”

Remus nodded, his face flushing a little. “Yeah, I've been making these ones for years actually. When I was a kid I used to put maple syrup on literally everything so it’s really not surprising that it made an appearance in my baking.”

Sirius grinned at him and began to move away. “I’m excited to try them so.”

Remus smiled, biting his lip before shaking his head and getting back to work. He wasn’t here to chat to Sirius Black. He was here to bake.

Baking had always been one of Remus’ pastimes. It was like his own little form of therapy. Whenever he was stressed - he would bake. Whenever he was really stressed, he would mix everything by hand. All that beating was really cathartic (Also it gave him really strong arms but that's besides the point). He whipped up the batch of lemon and blueberry first - they were a staple in his house and he could make them with his eyes closed. He used his time chopping walnuts to relieve any remaining nerves that lingered after talking to Sirius Black for a mere minute.

“Hey Re.”

Remus whipped around to face Lily, the contestant right behind him. They had met last night - in the ‘Bake Off Bubble’ after everyone had moved in and Remus had known straight away that they would be friends.

“Hey Lily,” Remus glanced at her counter. Well, what he could see of it, the entire surface was covered in a layer of cinnamon and sugar, left behind after she had dusted one set of cakes. “How’s it going?”

Lily leaned forward a bit giggling. “I’m afraid to say this, because I’ll totally jinx myself, but it’s actually going really well so far.”

Remus grinned. “I’ll say it for you instead.”

Lily nodded solemnly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” She paused, grinning, to stop her mixer, running her spatula along the edges of the bowl a few times in quick, practised movements to ensure all the batter was being thoroughly mixed before turning back to Remus. “Have the judges been over to you yet?”

Remus shook his head. “Not yet, just Sirius.”

Lily wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooh, having chats with Sirius, are you?”

Remus rolled his eyes. Pre-competition bonding, alcohol and a curious redhead did not go well together. Remus hadn’t even been here a full twenty four hours and he had already exposed the fact that he used to have a bit of a crush on one of their presenters.

“Oh hush you, they’re coming around to all of us.”

“Indeed we are, Mr Lupin.”

Remus whipped around, his face burning to see the two judges standing in front of his bench. “Oh, hello.”

“Good morning.” Dumbledore said, smiling warmly. Remus pretended he couldn’t hear Lily sniggering in the background. “What will you be presenting today?”

The pair listened, nodding along as Remus told them of his plans, only stumbling over his words once and managing to restrain from toying with the cuffs of his sleeves. He knew the cameras were on him.

“I must say, I’m surprised at the lemon and blueberry choice, some people would say that it’s a little predictable.” McGonagall said, peering at him over the rim of her glasses.

Remus didn’t blush, he had known this comment would come. “That’s true I suppose, but they’re my favourite. I’m a coeliac and this was the very first recipe I got right with gluten free flour so they’ve always had a special place in my heart.”

Dumbledore smiled, meeting his gaze and Remus was startled at how incredibly blue his eyes were. “I look forward to trying them.”

Remus glanced back at Lily once, as they left in a ‘please tell me they didn’t overhear our conversation’ but Lily was no help, she just laughed at his pain. Remus just sighed and set back to work. He lined his muffin trays with strips of bacon, making sure they were all nicely covered before pouring in the batter. He popped the trays in the oven, taking a moment to appreciate how well everything here worked - all the doors slid seamlessly, every knife was deathly sharp and every tool was gleaming. Back at home, there was nearly always something broken or in a state of disrepair that would make Remus have to improvise a little bit. He put the lemon and blueberry muffins on a cooling rack and having already made the maple filling he set about making a cup of tea.

“Oh can we have a cup too?”

Remus looked up to see both James and Sirius at his bench, grinning wickedly at him.

“Yeah, of course.” Remus pulled out two more mugs and dropped a tea bag into each. Strong or weak? He asked as he left his to brew.

“Weak please.” James said while Sirius went for strong. Remus slid James’ mug and milk across the counter while he removed the tea bags from the other two mugs before adding a fair amount of sugar to his own, causing Sirius to raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He defended himself. “I’m on Bake Off, it can’t be a surprise that I like sweet things.”

Sirius’ laugh was like a lovely little reward for saying something even remotely funny and the little fanboy inside Remus perked up at the sound. “Besides, who drinks black tea these days? I thought only dramatic movie characters did that.”

James nodded along as he swung himself up to sit on the bench. Remus raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “That’s what I say! I think he’s too pretentious for his own good really. It’s the same with his coffee - ‘Black for Black’.”

“Wow.” Remus said, smiling into his cup even as Sirius hot James’ shoulder playfully. “That’s dedication if nothing else.” Before Sirius could reply, Remus’ timer went off.

“Ooh muffin time!” James sang, hopping down from the counter and out of the way as Remus opened the oven and pulled out the muffins. Not to brag or anything, but he thought they were perfect.

“We’ll leave you to it.” They said, taking their mugs with them and moving out of the way. Remus was a little disappointed, but also glad because he needed to focus and he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do that if Sirius Black had stayed to watch.

He placed the hot muffins on their own cooling rack and filled a syringe with the maple syrup concoction before injecting a fair amount into each one. It was ridiculously satisfying to watch them swell a little as he filled them, but he had to remember to pull back lest he add too much and throw off the delicate balance.

“Bakers, you have two minutes left.” James called and despite being nearly finished, Remus felt that little spike of panic flow through him. Where had the time gone?

He quickly transferred both sets of muffins onto his plate for presenting them, lining them up in four rows of three, quickly dusting just a faint hint of icing sugar over the top and moving away.

“Bakers, your time is up, please place your cakes at the end of your bench and step away.”

Remus sat down on the stool he pulled out from under the bench and took a deep breath. He made it in time. His cakes looked okay. He could totally do this.

The judges entered the room and started making their way around the tent. Remus smiled at Lily nervously before tucking his hands under his thighs to hide the fact that they were trembling softly. He tried to pay attention to what the judges were saying to the others but really he could only hear his heart pounding in his ears. They moved away from the first contestant and then a few minutes later, from the second and then they were standing right in front of him. This was it - his first chance to prove himself.

“Hello again Mr Lupin.” McGonagall smiled as James and Sirius flanked the judges. There was a tense silence for a few minutes as each judge picked up a cake.

“They’re all identical, which is really nice to see.” Dumbledore said, right before halving a muffin. “Lovely even bake through this.”

McGonagall cut open a bacon and maple syrup and the sweet filling oozing out of the cake. “Look at this,” She said, “Really lovely work there. And I really like how the cake is wrapped in the rasher.”

Remus held a breath as they each took a bite, barely able to breathe.

Dumbledore smiled and relief flooded through Remus’ system. “Some excellent work here today Mr Lupin, well done.”

“Thank you,” Remus stammered, hardly able to talk though the beaming smile that had taken over his face. The judges moved away but James and Sirius lingered a moment longer.

“Can we try?” Sirius asked, pointing to the cakes. Remus nodded and while James went straight for the bacon and maple, Sirius paused.

“You said the lemon ones were your favourite, right?”

How did Sirius even know that? He wasn’t even there when Remus had mentioned it to the judges… he must have overheard. Nevertheless, Remus nodded and tried to hide a confused little smile as Sirius plucked a lemon and blueberry.

“Oh my god this is unreal.” James moaned as he started to walk away, clapping Remus’ shoulder. “Well done mate.”

Sirius closed his eyes, smiling as he chewed his. “They’re my favourite too.”

Remus was glad he was sitting down. Having anything in common with his celebrity crush was in itself nearly too much for him to handle, but said celebrity crush liking his baking? Well, not to be repetitive but; Remus was glad he was sitting down.

“That was crazy.”

“I know.”

“Like… So crazy.”

“I know.”

Remus and Lily were sitting outside on the lawn, eating their lunch before they had to take on their next challenge and they had both been saying the same thing for a solid two minutes.

“It’s just so crazy!” Lily exclaimed. “We just did our first challenge! And it went well!”

“I know!” Remus was still in shock himself. He had given all his cakes to the crew - all the bakers did, bar one for themselves. Remus had eaten his gluten free lemon and blueberry muffin, savouring the fact that the judges liked it and certainly not thinking about how Sirius Black had liked it too.

Nope, definitely not.

“The whole thing has made me a bit calmer about the next challenge, how about you?”

Remus nodded along in agreement as he stabbed another bunch of lettuce with his fork. “Yeah, I mean I’m still a bit nervous, but less so having actually done one.”

“And let’s not forget the fact that you had a bit of face time with Mr Black himself.”

Remus refused to let himself blush. “Oh shove off, I never should have told you that.” He said laughing a little defeatedly, wiping at his flushed face with his hand.

“No, you were definitely right to have told me. Now I can say that he looks at you way more than the others.” She teased, drawing out the ‘way’.

Remus rolled his eyes. “He’s Sirius Black. I’m just a book-loving, cardigan wearing, baking nerd from Wales. Until today, he never even knew I existed and whenever this show is over, he’ll soon forget about me.”

“Okay.” Lily said, her tone indicating she in no way believed him but she would let it slide for now. Remus breathed a sigh of relief. He could totally do this.

Remus Lupin could not do this.

His cakes weren’t rising, his cream was melting in the heat and those fucking instructions were useless.

“Ah I recognise the face of someone dealing with their first technical challenge.” Sirius said, appearing at his side.

Remus scrubbed his face tiredly. “Make a Victoria sponge.” He said lifelessly. “Those were their instructions. Nothing more. Like, what?”

Sirius bit his lip. Remus had to avert his eyes, he already had one crisis to deal with right now. “Yeah those two apparently aren’t very big on words.”

Remus just groaned at the attempt at humour. “This isn’t going to work.”

“And you called me dramatic?” Remus peeked out between his fingers to see Sirius leaning on his worktop grinning up at him. “You’ve got this Lupin.”

Remus began to nod slowly. “You think so?”

Sirius scoffed. “Of course!” He stood up straight and began to walk away. “Besides, if everything goes to shit, the worst thing that could happen is you embarrass yourself on national television and get sent home.”

At that, Remus burst out laughing. “That’s certainly an… interesting pep talk.”

Sirius grinned. “That’s me.”

Remus was still smiling a little while later as he assembled his cakes. Yes, the sponges didn’t rise as much as he would have like, but otherwise they were fine. He had managed to salvage the cream by putting it in the fridge for a while and the jam that he made had turned out really nicely. If nothing else, he had that going for him. The two presenters called time and the contestants all placed their cakes on the table at the front of the tent, behind the pictures of their faces. This challenge was a blind judge - McGonagall and Dumbledore didn’t know who had made what until after they released the results.

Remus sat down on a stool, with Lily on one side of him and a bloke named Peter on the other.

“Good luck.” Peter whispered to him and with that, the judges re-entered the tent.

“Good afternoon bakers!”

“Afternoon!” Everyone chorused back and Remus had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at the sudden sensation that he was back in school and the teacher had just come into class.

“Okay, let’s just dive right in shall we?”

They all waited with baited breath as the judges tried each and every one of their cakes.

“Now this one is excellent.” Dumbledore said, taking a bite of the cake behind the picture of the pretty girl with bubble-gum pink hair. Remus glanced down the line and saw she was trying to hide a relieved grin. Lily was bouncing her leg incessantly and Remus had to cover her knee with his hand to get her to stop. He knew the cameras had caught the movement and to top it all off, Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. Remus bit his lip but didn’t move his hand - Lily had smiled at him gratefully and they both needed a little human contact right now.

“Now this one is a bit flat - the sponges didn’t rise enough in the oven it would seem.”

Remus flinched and looked up. Yep, they had reached his. The seconds seemed to crawl by as they cut themselves a slice and finally they tried it.

“However it tastes very good, I particularly like the jam - blueberry, that's quite unusual.”

Remus finally let out the breath he was holding. He was going to be just fine.

“Okay Mr Lupin, stand right there, if you would.”

Remus adjusted himself to stand where the camera woman had pointed to and looked at her. “This okay?”

“That’s perfect Mr Lupin-”

“Just Remus, please.”

“Alright then Remus, I’m Marlene.” She reached over and shook his hand, her green eyes kind and an array of wild blonde curls piled on top of her head.

“So Remus, how are you feeling after today?”

“Um, I feel pretty good?” Remus said, laughing a little at himself when he phrased it like a question. “It’s really hard to tell - especially since this was the first time I’ve done this. It was good though, no matter what it was a great experience and meeting so many like minded people is pretty cool.”

“And what about your placement in the technical challenge? Third place? Not too shabby.”

Remus laughed properly at that. “Yeah, that was really great.”

“And how are you feeling overall?”

Remus tilted his head side to side in a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Alright. I’m excited but also nervous. I think today was the most exhilarating yet stress inducing day of my life.”

Marlene giggled. “Yeah I’m getting that impression. That was great Remus, you’re free to go.”

Remus’ shoulders slumped and he was surprised at himself, he hadn’t realised he had been that tense.

“Please tell me that I didn’t look like a deer in headlights.” He groaned, making Marlene laugh. “Nah, you’re good I promise, no deer here,” She paused, leaning in conspiratorially, “Except the deer that’s James’ screensaver, but shh, you didn’t hear that from me.”

Remus chuckled to himself all the way back to the hotel.

“Round two, here we go.” Lily said, rubbing her hands together eagerly as she and Remus walked into the tent together.

“Okay but, how weird is it that we have to wear the exact same outfit again today?” Remus asked.

“So weird.” Tonks replied, magically appearing at their side. “Usually at home I take off my clothes and fling them somewhere in my room but last night I had to consciously put them away together so I wouldn’t lose anything.”

Lily giggled and Tonks grinned at her. Remus was settling nicely into the sense of camaraderie that was forming in the tent. Being in a ‘Bake Off Bubble’ changed the dynamic to other years (not that Remus really knew what other years were like) but essentially living with the others was allowing for a nice bond to form between them all.

They chatted a little as everyone filed in and James and Sirius wandered over to them.

“Hey guys!” Tonks chirped and the two lads grinned.

“Ready for another day?” James asked, the question posed to the group, but his eyes were on Lily. Her cheeks flushed a little and Remus made a mental note to tease her about that later.

“As ready as we can be I suppose.” She said, fiddling with equipment that did not need organising. Remus met Sirius’ eyes and they both grinned and for a moment, just for a split second it felt like they knew each other, like they were friends and had jokes and shared secret knowing looks.

“Okay guys, let’s get going.” A producer called and it snapped Remus out of his thoughts. He and Tonks went to their own benches and Sirius and James walked to the front of the tent to stand next to the judges.

“Today, my lovely little bakers,” Sirius began dramatically, “We want you to bake a cake.”

“I think that’s a given, considering it’s cake week.” James chimed in and Sirius shushed him.

“Hush, let me finish. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” He said, glancing pointedly at James to the amusement of the rest of the tent, “Today we want you to bake a cake. But not just any cake,” He said grandly. “We want a cake with several tiers and three different flavours. Your cake can be decorated any way you like, however it has to represent something important to you.”

Remus wasn’t surprised. None of the bakers were - they were told about this challenge in advance so that they had time to prepare and practise. The challenge was being announced simply for the benefit of the audience.

“Ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

Remus cracked his knuckles and set to work.

“Does three different types of chocolate count as three separate flavours?” Sirius asked him, standing on his tip-toes to peer over Remus’ shoulders.

“I sure as fucking well hope so, cause it’s too bloody late for me otherwise.” Remus mumbled, concentrating too hard to even register what Sirius was saying properly.

“Language Re, now we can’t use this footage.” He laughed, scuffing Remus’ shoe with his foot.

“Oh no, the nation won’t get to see a few more seconds of me stressed off my head, what a fucking pity.”

Remus didn't look up but he could practically hear Sirius’ eyebrows raising.

“Mr Lupin, what would the queen think of such appalling language?” He asked, pressing a hand over his heart. Remus did glance up this time, to shoot the presenter a dry smile.

“I’ll be sure to ask her, if I ever meet her.”

Sirius’s eyes lit up at the banter, and one part of Remus wanted to say ‘fuck this competition, just spend all your time here chatting to Sirius bloody Black’, but that part of him was very small and the urge to win was very very large, so instead, he let Sirius wander along to the other contestants and he set back to work.

His white chocolate and milk chocolate sponges were still in the oven, but Remus had taken out his dark chocolate layer. He set to work, cooling it and carefully cutting it in half, repeating the process with his other two cakes. Next, he carefully stacked all of the pieces on top of one another, spreading a thin layer of salted caramel icing in between each layer, leaving him with six tiers total. He took a moment to step back and roll out his shoulders quickly before continuing to give his muscles a quick break.

“All good Remus?” James asked and Remus smiled weakly. “Yeah, all good.”

He had his cakes stacked on the stand he would be presenting them on, and set to work carefully cutting off sections of the cake until he was left with a lovely sphere shape. Satisfied, he grabbed the bowl of icing he hand made, the salted caramel a pale yellow and Remus added just the tiniest hint of food dye so it had the faintest grey tint before spreading it liberally all over the cake.

“So Remus, might I ask what you’re making today?” Marlene asked, appearing by his side, camera braced on his shoulder.

“Um it’s supposed to be the moon actually.”

“Oh hey, I can kind of see that.”

“What? Only kind of? I’ve completely finished!”

A panicked look overtook Marlene’s features and Remus burst out laughing. “I’m only messing with you. I’m not done yet. I’m going to get to work doing all the craters and stuff now.”

Marlene looked at him, her face completely blank. “I feel like I should inform you that if it wouldn’t get me fired I’d totally kill you for giving me that heart attack.”

Remus stuck out his tongue playfully. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now leave me alone, I need to get back to work.”

“Yeah, you tell her Re!” Sirius enthused as he walked past, not even pausing in his path over to James and only having heard the tail end of the conversation. Marlene just rolled her eyes and followed him.

For the first challenge, the judges had come around to their benches. All of the cakes had been presented at once during the second. The third, Remus decided, was most certainly the worst, because you had to carry your cake all the way up to the judges and present it to them.

Remus really fucking hoped he didn’t trip.

“I must say, the detailing on this is quite nice.” McGonagall said, picking up a rather large knife and Remus smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

She cut right down the centre and Remus almost winced because he had worked so hard on that but these are the troubles when your artwork is edible.

Dumbledore looked at him curiously. “Are these just different flavours of chocolate.”

Remus pursed his lips. He had no idea if they hated it or not. “Yeah it is… I really like chocolate.” He added lamely and flushed a little at the chuckles that elicited from around the tent.

“Well Mr Lupin, I must say I’m rather impressed.” McGonagall said after trying it and Remus honestly thought he was going to cry with relief. One thing was for sure - the endorphin levels that being on this show elicited were on a whole other level.

He walked back to his bench, half in a daze, smiling at Lily who passed him on his way, her arms full with a cake decorated with the most realistic iced lilies he had ever seen.

“Remus? Are you ready for your interview?”

Remus looked up from the cup of tea he was nursing. “Yeah. Outside again?”

Marlene nodded and he followed her out, taking a deep breath of the clean country air.

Marlene signalled to indicate the camera was rolling. “So, you survived?” She said, her tone teasing.

Remus smiled. “I survived.” He confirmed. “I’m so, so delighted for Lily, she really deserved to get star baker.”

“So you weren’t disappointed?”

Remus laughed at the almost ludicrous question. “I’m still surprised that I made it here in the first place! I wasn't expecting star baker, I wasn't even aiming for it today, I just wanted to make it through the week.”

“And you did.”

“That I did.” Remus repeated, smiling warmly. Some guy, Caradoc, was going home. Remus had only spoken to him once so he couldn’t say he was all that torn up about it.

“This question is for a bit of voice over for the episode, alright?”

Remus nodded.

“Your cake was a moon, can you explain the significance of that?”

Remus sheepishly rubbed his hand over his face. “It seems kind of dumb now that I say it but, I used to be obsessed with the moon. Still am really, if I’m being perfectly honest. It got to the point where I now have the nickname of ‘Moony’.” He paused smiling as Marlene laughed. “But it just always made me calm. My mom and I used to drive to the beach in the evening just to watch the sun go down and the moon come up. It was great.”

Marlene smiled. “Perfect, that’s enough, thanks Remus.” She hit a button to stop the recording and Remus began to move away.

“So you’ve reason to stay another week anyways?” Marlene asked.

“Yeah.” Remus said, surprised to find his voice soft. He turned slightly and his eyes landed on Sirius walking out of the tent, pulling his hair out of the top-knot it had been styled in for the last two days. “Yeah, I think I do.”

#wolfstar #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin/Sirius Black #remus lupin x sirius black #bake off #bake off au #great british bake off #the great british bake off #tgbbo #James Potter #Lily Evans

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