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aperrywilliams · 4 years

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Couvade (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: The team having weeks full of work, traveling across the country. Tiredness is taking its toll on Reader and Spencer.

Word Count: 3747.

Warnings: References to headaches, stomachaches, and another “aches” as well. Couple discussions. Spencer losing his temper. Spencer and Reader clueless. But fluffy in the end.

A/N: Work has drained all my energy these last few weeks. Something from our favorite doctor to get me back.

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In recent months the cases that were coming to the BAU were a true roller coaster in many ways: some simpler, others tremendously difficult and rough. Some local others far across the country.

With all this turmoil, there wasn't much time left for personal life. My advantage, if I had to compare myself to my colleagues, was that my boyfriend worked with me and at least we could see each other a few moments a day and spend some time together on the jet traveling from one place to another.

I think Spencer also saw it as an advantage, even though as the weeks went by following this same rhythm he was much more irritable and angry than usual. Not that Spencer is an irritable man by definition, quite the contrary, but the work’ stress was taking its toll on us and he was no exception.

One of the few mornings we were able to be quiet in the BAU offices, I approached his desk. It caught my attention that he had the palms of his hands covering his mouth.

“Spencer, ¿what’s wrong?”. Looking at him, I saw that he was paler than usual.

“Nothing , I'm fine. I just feel a little nauseous. Apparently the muffin for breakfast made my stomach funny”, he lamented.

“Baby , I'm sorry. I should have asked when it was made when I bought it,” I tried to apologize.

“It's not your fault. It may be that my stomach is more fussy than usual,” he said with a sigh. Sigh that was apparently interrupted by another nausea. In two seconds Spencer was on her feet running towards the bathroom.

Not that Spencer is a tremendously healthy person, but it was rare to see him sick, except for his headaches and his periods of insomnia, which we were both used to living with from time to time. But this was different. Spencer rarely caught a cold or had stomach problems, even given all the coffee and sugar she consumed daily.

In general, when men feel sick they are like children . And in Spencer Reid that was increased by three. Thus, throughout that day I was concerned with checking his condition, preparing herbal tea and doing everything possible to prevent him from drinking coffee. When we got to the apartment that we had shared for more than a year, I made sure to make soup for him and send him to bed early.

In the following days his stomach discomfort began to disappear. A relief, because my genius boyfriend was unbearable during all those days, so much that we argued about almost anything. I also felt irritable and overwhelmed by the amount of work we had, and besides having to take care of Spencer .

Another case, another trip. On the jet on the way to San Francisco, and after reviewing details of the case, I went to sit next to Spencer. I wanted to apologize for our last discussion that morning. When I got closer he was reading a book, but I knew he wasn't really reading since the pages weren't turning. I was sure he was attentive to how I approached his side.

“Spencer... baby...,” I said in the softest and most tender voice I could. I did not get an answer. “Spencer ... can you look at me please?”. The second call was less friendly. He raised his eyes to look at me.

“I'm looking at you (Y/N),” he replied with a bored expression that began to annoy me and even regret wanting to apologize.

“Thank you. Can you close your book too? I need to talk to you”. Not very enthusiastically he shut the book and put it to the side of the seat.

“Done. What do you want to talk about?”. Same look and same voice. I didn't want to be upset with him, but he was making it difficult for me. I took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I want to apologize for our discussion this morning. I know I said not very kind things to you. None of that was truth, you have to believe me. It's just that I also feel overwhelmed by everything and I understand that you are tired, but I am too and you know that I say things without thinking when I am like this…”. His gaze softened when he saw that I was genuine and tears even started to come out of me without my meaning to. He sighed and extended his arms for me to snuggle with him, which I did immediately burying my face into his chest.

“I must also apologize. I didn't react in the best way either. I yelled at you and that's not right. I also feel overwhelmed and tired, more than usual. Being sick last week didn't help me much either… ”. He hugged me tight so I felt his words were sincere.

“I'm sorry. I hope this job’s rhythm drops in the next few days, I don't want to live fighting with you”. I said giving him a soft kiss on his chin and drying my tears.

“I don’t want that either. In fact, I think we should take a few days off, just for us. At this point I am having a hard time separating work’s moments from our private’s moments,” he stated.

Spencer was right. What seemed to be positive also had its bad side: Which was the real boundary between the professional and the personal? We always tried our relationship wasn’t a problem for our job, but it was also important to do the reverse exercise: our job shouldn't be a problem for our relationship either.

All this time that we had been on this beat - more than 10 weeks and counting – we had no enough time to spend together like a real couple. The last time we had sex was before Spencer got sick and it was a quicky in my hotel room during a case in Denver. And before that, I don’t even remember well.

I hadn't felt very good either. Going from place to place around the country had me dizzy most of the time and with headaches for weeks. Of course, none of that managed to incapacitate me at work, so I didn’t take it seriously and didn’t tell anyone about it . I also had a few days with stomach pain and nausea, which I explained by the poor diet we were having between so much travel. After a few weeks I began to feel better from these discomforts, but irritability and tiredness continued.

I was still cuddling with Spencer when I felt him whine shifting for a more comfortable position into the seat.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?,” I asked lifting my head to look at him.

“Since yesterday I have a back pain that is killing me. (Y/N), I still have some years to go to turn 40 and I already feel like an old man!,” he complained.

“We haven't slept well either. Hotel beds are not the best. I have also had back pain some weeks ago. But I think I'm used to that and it doesn't hurt so much anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’m complaining about my pain and you too haven't felt well lately. I'm failing miserable as a boyfriend”. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, hugging me tight again.

“I didn't want to worry you with those things. I know how you get when something happens to me, surely you would have insisted on me taking a leave. And it's not a big deal. The worst is the tiredness and the bad mood, besides that I feel that my body weighs on me. I gained weight grossly. I look awful,” I said, pouting.

“Of course you’re not. You look beautiful. Tired… but beautiful”. He took my chin and gave me a soft kiss on my lips.

“You say it just to not make me feel bad,” I replied when we pulled away.

“(Y/N), I mean it. You know I like everything about you,” Spencer replied as he stroked my back and rested his chin on my head. How I missed those moments with Spencer, even though I wish they weren't on the jet on their way to a case.

The San Francisco case was terrible. We were in the fifth day and couldn't identify the unsub yet. We were sleeping very little and badly. We couldn't even agree between ourselves on the profile, which triggered a heated discussion with Spencer while we were in the meeting room we had been assigned to work. The worst thing was having this argument in front of the whole team.

“You are not seeing the obvious (Y/N), it’s impossible this can be done by a single person. There aren't any hints of that in the evidence”. Spencer spat as he pointed to the board with the notes and photos we had.

“Are you saying I don't know how to do my job? I am seeing the same evidence as you, but you are so obsessed with your theory that you are not able to think of other possibilities”, I replied back.

“Obsessed? Oh no, no. The only one obsessed with a theory here is you. You have not put any evidence of what you are saying!”

“Don’t say that. Look at this board! What do all these photos tell you? Why couldn't it be a single person with a psychotic break? Can't you see the pattern? I began to despair and inadvertently tears I couldn’t control began to fall. That upset Spencer even more.

“Your crying isn’t going to convince me of this stupid theory (Y/N)!,” he shot almost making my heart shatter. Watching the exchange grow increasingly rough, Prentiss finally intervened.

“Reid! Enough!,” she said seeing how I couldn't control my tears and my hands started to shake. At the wake-up call, Spencer fell silent and realized my state. I started to feel dizzy. He tried to grab my arm and I avoided him.

“Don’t touch me!,” I yelled at him, as I headed straight to leave the room, but the dizziness intensified and I fell to the floor losing consciousness.

***

I managed to grab (Y/N)'s head before it hit the floor. At that moment I realized that I had lost my temper and had pushed (Y/N) to the limit. JJ immediately came over to help me. We checked the pulse and checked for any injuries. Meanwhile, Rossi went in search of the paramedics.

I felt a lump in my throat. Suddenly the nausea returned. I couldn't help myself and ran to the bathroom. I was cursing myself for not being able to control myself. My girlfriend had passed out because of me and I couldn't even be with her because I felt sick again.

When I came out of the bathroom I was intercepted by Emily in the hallway. She told me that (Y/N) had regained consciousness but they would take her to the hospital for a check-up anyway. I just wanted to go with her.

“JJ went with her and the paramedics. I'll let you go with her, but first tell me what's going on between you both. You two have been between fights and reconciliations for weeks. Your mood is a roller coaster, we no longer know what happens to you. I understand that we are all tired of this rhythm, but in you guys it seems like something unbearable! Are you okay? Can you tell me Spencer…”. Emily was right. We had weeks between discussions and mutual apologies. Now, I couldn't find a mildly convincing reason for the situation.

“I honestly don't know. I don't know what happens to us. Until a few weeks ago everything was fine and now… I don't know. I can't control myself. There are days when I feel tired, jaded. Others where everything seems normal. I have felt sick more often. I can't even stand myself sometimes,” I said scratching my head.

“Whatever it’s, I think you need to talk. This kind of outburst can't happen again, Spencer. Now go with her”

“Are you sure?... what about the case?...” I asked.

“Unbelievably, your argument gave us a clue. Rossi, Luke, and Tara are analyzing it now. So don't worry about the case, go. Talk to (Y/N)”. I nodded and ran to the hospital.

***

When I regained consciousness I was still in the meeting room, JJ was holding my head and a paramedic was checking my vitals. I felt embarrassed. I wanted to get up but JJ wouldn't let me. She told me that they would take me to the hospital to check me up even though I had already regained consciousness. I just shrugged. I didn’t know why so much commotion, for me it was just fatigue and the anger of the moment. Anger that still ran through my body, because I didn't even want to ask where Spencer was.

At the hospital a nurse came to my room and asked JJ leave the room for a moment. Then she took blood samples from me, measured my blood pressure, among other things. When she was doing that she asked me what happened. The nurse asked me too about my health in the previous weeks and I told her about my back pain, bloating, headaches, nausea and dizziness. She just nodded and told me that we should wait for the tests to rule out things and conclude if it was only fatigue and stress that triggered my fainting. Then she left the room and JJ came in again.

“What did she tell you?,” JJ asked me.

“Nothing yet. She took samples and said we have to wait,” I replied shrugging.

“What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. I guess it's stress. In the last two months we have not had a truce JJ, I don't know how you are still standing…,” I said with a sigh.

“Yeah, I know. We have had very intense weeks lately. But it looks like it hit you and Spencer a lot harder. Are you two okay?”. There was genuine concern in her voice, but honestly I didn't have an explanation beyond the obvious: stress.

“Yes , I guess. I mean, it's true that we've argued more often, but that doesn't change how I feel about Spencer. In the opposite. It's weird what I'm going to say, but I miss him. I mean, I miss our moments together without having to think about work or argue”. I hadn't realized that tears were already coming from my eyes. “Shit JJ, and now I'm crying and I don't know why… I should be mad! He yelled at me in front of everyone and called me stupid!”

“You need to talk about it, (Y/N). I'm sure he didn't mean it”

“He is an idiot, JJ. He is almost more insufferable than me…”. I crossed my arms over my chest frowning just thinking about what happened. And as if it were fate, at that precise moment Spencer Reid made his appearance in the hospital room.

***

I walked into the hospital room and saw (Y/N) on the bed with her arms crossed over her chest talking to JJ. They both looked at me standing in the doorway. I could see (Y/N)’s anger on her face. She had right, I wasn't going to blame her for that. I steeled myself and approached (Y/N). If I had to receive her anger, I was willing to accept it.

“How do you feel?,” I asked. I wanted to take her hand, but she quickly pushed it away.

“Fine”. She didn't even want to look at me. Her eyes fixed on her feet covered by the hospital bed’s sheets. At that moment JJ got up from her chair heading to the door.

“I’ll be outside calling the team. I let you talk for a while”. On leaving JJ closed the door. (Y/N) still didn't look at me.

“(Y/N)… I’m so sorry. Baby, I'm really sorry. I lost control. I don’t know what happened to me. Nothing I said I meant it. (Y/N), you have to believe me, I don't want you to think I don't value your job. That’s not true, you are invaluable to the team. You are an excellent profiler…,” I was looking at her with pleading eyes.

“You yelled at me. You treated me lousy. I don't know what is wrong with you. If you're as overwhelmed as I am, that doesn't give you the right to do what you did either”. She looked up and I could see that she was hurt. That broke my heart.

“I know. I'm sorry. I don’t know what's happening to me these weeks. I would like to give you a better explanation, but I don't have one. I know it’s wrong and I promise I will do whatever it takes to make up to you. I love you, (Y/N). I can’t stand see you hurt because of me”. This time she reached for my hand and squeezed it hard.

“I should hate you Spencer Reid. But I can't…” (Y/N) said shaking her head and huffing. “I guess I must believe you this time. You are not forgiven yet, though,” she warned me. I kissed her hand nodding in agreement. At that moment the doctor entered the room, still checking a folder with many papers.

“Miss (Y/L/N), good afternoon, I’m Dr. Anna Ragger, how are you feeling?”

“Much better now, thank you doctor,” the doctor nodded looking at me. “He is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend,” (Y/N) hastened to explain.

“Ah. Nice to meet you. Well, I have the results from your blood tests.” I was standing next to (Y/N) without releasing her hand.

“Is there something I should be concerned about doctor?”, (Y/N) asked.

“It depends on what you consider to be a concern, but I would say no,” doctor replied with a shy smile on her face. I looked at (Y/N) who had the same confused face as me. Before the doctor could say anything else, I felt my stomach twist again. Dr. Ragger looked at me strangely.

“Is something wrong sir?,” she asked. When my nausea subsided, I was only able to speak.

“I'm fine. I've only been with some stomachaches for a few weeks…,” I mumbled.

“What else did you feel? Fatigue? Headaches? Body aches? Mood changes?,” Dr. Ragger asked. I looked at her in amazement. She had perfectly described my symptoms of the past weeks. (Y/N) was frowning trying to understand what was happening.

“Yeah… ehm… all of them. Well, we've had very difficult weeks at work,” I replied. The doctor tried to hide a smile.

“Have you heard of Couvade syndrome?,” I thought for a few seconds and yes, I knew what it was.

“Yeah. Couvade syndrome is something that happens to men when their partners are pregnant. It emulates the symptoms that women experience during the first trimester of pregnancy,” I explained. The doctor nodded, smiling. (Y/N) dropped her jaw. Dr. Ragger, seeing I had not thought enough about my own words, intervened again.

“That likely explains your symptoms...”

“You mean I have that syndrome? I don't think so, because for that to happen (Y/N) would have to be... oh!”. The realization hit me like a freight train. “Oh!”, I exclaimed and looked at (Y/N) and then turned my eyes again to the doctor. “(Y/N) is...?”

“That's right, Miss (Y/L/N) is pregnant. Congratulations!”.

“Oh my God, are you sure Dr. Ragger?,” (Y/N) asked almost jumping out of bed. I started to feel dizzy. Dr. Ragger noticed my reaction and helped me to sit in the chair where JJ was before leaving the room.

“Yes miss (Y/L/N), your symptoms are consistent with pregnancy, and the blood tests confirmed it. My guess is that you must be in your 10th week of pregnancy, which would explain why your boyfriend would be experiencing similar symptoms. It doesn't happen to all men, of course, but there is always a possibility,” she explained. A little less dizzy I got up from the chair and stand beside (Y/N) holding her hand, still paralyzed. She was astonished yet.

“Well. Now that we are clear about the reasons for your symptoms, you are ready to go home miss (Y/L/N). Talk to your obstetrician about the next steps. Congratulations again,” Dr. Ragger stated before leaving the room.

Once we stayed alone in the room, (Y/N) shook her head in disbelieve. Maybe my face still didn't reflect it, but inside I was burning with happiness. Admittedly, it wasn't something we would have planned, but I was ecstatic at the news. I noticed tears began to roll down (Y/N)'s cheeks. I panicked. Maybe she was not happy with the news.

“Baby, what is it?”

“Spencer... we hadn't planned this. We hadn't even talked about the possibility of having children. And now it's happening... I’m happy, but I don't know if you want this. I can't force you to be with me for that. If you're not comfortable with this, it’s okay, I'll understand... really,” (Y / N) began to cry. I took her cheeks with my hands.

“Hey, look at me. Everything is gonna be okay. We will be okay. I love you so much (Y/N), and that's reason enough for me wanting everything with you. I want to be with you, I want to have children with you. I want you to be my wife. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me the happiest man in the world, and that is why it hurts when I see you suffer for something I did. Please forgive me for these days that I have put you through...,” I said kissing her forehead. I could feel her body relaxed at my words. She took a deep breath.

“Only if you're willing to forgive me for what I'm going to put you through in the next few months... and the rest of your life, Dr. Reid,” (Y/N) said now with a small smile on her face.

“Fair is fair. I'll face it happily,” I replied laughing. I was so pleased seeing the woman who made me so happy every day smiling again.

“I love you Spencer,” she said in a whisper into my lips before kissing me.

“I love you… both,” I replied when we parted. Both smiling and happy for what the future held for us.

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#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #couvade

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universemarvel · 3 years

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The time Peter should have FIRST called Mr. Stark “Tony.”

By @universemarvel for @sdottkrames

Rating: general audiences

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Summary: an irondad one shot where Peter gets... hurt., and handles it in a Peter Parker Way™️. Tony is honestly just trying his best okay?!?

Part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on ao3 here

Or continue reading via tumblr here...

“Peter!”

The kid jumps and his head snaps towards his mentor. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“What are you doing?” Tony held his coffee mug up in front of his mouth in a poor attempt to hide the smile on his face.

Peter looked down to his messy table, which was occupied by empty blue and silver snack wrappers, drinks, and his Spider-Man suit, which he was currently scrubbing with a sponge. He picked up one of the wrappers that still had some did in it. “I’m... trying all the pop tart flavors,” he said, taking a bite out of the pastry.

“You feeling alright?” It’s not often he could walk up unnoticed upon Peter.

But Peter just smiled. “A little lightheaded from the sugar rush, but otherwise fine;” his smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Why?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Why are you scrubbing your suit with a sponge? I’m sure there’s a dishwashing machine somewhere in this building,” he finally revealed his smile.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Is the suit dishwasher safe? Because that would actually be great.”

Tony laughed. “I’m not answering that. What happened? And please don’t tell me you’re hand scrubbing your multi-million dollar suit because you forgot to put on deodorant.”

Pink painted Peter’s cheeks as he smiled and shook his head. “No, I just got something on it and it stinks. Do you want to smell it?” He offered the suit up, and Tony took a step back reflexively.

“No thanks, kiddo, I’m rather enjoying my coffee at the moment. However, I do have a decontamination gadget for a reason, so let’s throw it in there for a few hours so we can go back upstairs for dinner. That is, if you’re still hungry after eating New York’s entire stock of pop tarts.”

“Of course I’m hungry,” Peter smiled, “and if your cleany-box doesn’t work, can we try the dishwasher?”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

After dinner, the pair found themselves scrolling through Netflix. Peter’s lightheadedness from earlier had slowly been developing into a headache, but he didn’t want to bother Tony with it.

He didn’t feel like watching a movie, which he figured was a red flag, but he picked a Star Wars movie to avoid raising suspicion.

“Are you sure?” Tony’s voice pulled Peter from his attempts to distract himself from his headache.

“Am I sure...about what?”

Tony eyed him suspiciously, and Peter tried to think of what he did that was out of the ordinary so he could reverse it.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Tony squinted his eyes.

“Of course.”

“Correction-“ his mentor rolled his eyes; “do you have any pain at all?”

Peter shook his head, still trying to figure out what his giveaway behavior was. “Why?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Because we watched this movie last night.”

Peter’s breath caught, and he reached for a lie. He shrugged. “I feel like you didn’t appreciate it enough the first time.” His mind replayed the evening before. “Aaand you fell asleep, so technically you can’t say you watched it last night.”

Tony’s mouth was still pressed in a thin line, revealing his doubts, but he just shook his head. “Okay,” he gave in, “but don’t make me regret this.”

Peter smiled, hoping the well-known noises from the familiar film would minimize his headache’s growth.

__________

Still in the process of waking up, he was glad the room was so nice and quiet. He knew he was still at the tower because it was always loud at his apartment. His headache was gone, and realizing he was in his room at the tower, he wondered with a start how he’d gotten back here from the living room; he figured he must’ve been pretty tired last night to have been so out of it.

He waits for the noises of the tower to reach him, but they don’t. He sits up quickly, somehow quietly. Too quietly. He looks down at the sheets, and runs his hands back and forth on them. He can’t hear them, and his eyes widen. He can see his chest is moving quicker with his increased breathing pace, but he can’t hear that either.

He brings his fingers to his ears and snaps.

Nothing. He tries again, watching his hand this time to make sure he snaps correctly, still nothing.

He feels true panic swell up in his chest, and jumps out of bed. He rushes to put a shirt and a pair of pants on, and the silence of his movements scares him; he feels like he’s watching a movie on mute, except he’s never not heard at least his own breathing. He opened the door, and paused; the silence of the hallway greeted him like a wave, rushing into his head with an overwhelming ringing he feels rather than hears.

It hurts.

On second thought, he closed the bedroom door again, shutting himself off from the hallway. It had to have been whatever chemical was on the suit. The suit which was now decontaminated and as clean as it had been new. How helpful would it be going to Mr. Stark without any information? Maybe if he could retrace his steps from yesterday, he could find out what the chemical was. He glanced at the clock, and saw it was 7:15. Tony wouldn’t be awake for several hours still, so Peter could get a head start until then. If all went well, Peter could even analyze the sample and neutralize it before Tony was up for his usual weekend 11 am breakfast.

__________

Peter made it to the spot he’d been sprayed by the bad-smelling stuff by 8 o’clock. He landed, slowly turning around to assess the area. It was a bright alleyway, lit from the morning sun’s reflection off a nearby skyscraper, but was still secluded and generally ignored by passerby’s due to it being a dead end street, blocked off by a wall of brick apartment.

He realized that he hadn’t said anything to Karen, who had no doubt been talking to him since he put the mask on; he wondered what she had been saying, and felt partly guilty for what was probably perceived as him ignoring her.

He didn’t want to tell her he couldn’t hear, however, for fear of some hidden protocol that would alert Tony, so he did his best to try to sound natural, a difficult task given that he couldn’t hear himself.

“Hey Karen,” he said, and paused. What did she normally say to him? Ask him how he was doing? How he slept? She would have for sure commented that she was glad to see him, but her usual trail of discussion had probably been derailed by the fact that he hadn’t acknowledged anything she’d said throughout the entire trip thus far.

“Sorry for ignoring you,” he said after giving her a chance to talk, “everything’s fine, I’m just trying to find something. Here. For Mr. Stark.”

He waited a beat, hoping he wasn’t cutting her off or waiting too long to respond, but honestly he had no idea.

“Could you help me find any synthetic chemicals on the walls or ground here? I’m looking for the stuff I got sprayed with yesterday.”

If she replied, he didn’t know, but he was glad to see diagnostics pull up as Karen began to highlight a plethora of invisible substances in the environment around him. With each one that pulled up, Karen did a quick calculation as to what it was.

He scanned his surroundings; urine, vomit, urine, blood, urine, some more urine, a few unidentifiable splotches, but he could tell from their location and position that they weren’t what he was looking for.

His shoulders slumped forwards, and he frowned.

He saw a shadow grow forward into the alleyway, and jumped around in a twist to see what was there. It was just a garbage truck, but the fact that it was now looming over him in the alleyway without him knowing it was even there still had his blood running cold. He jumped onto the wall and started climbing. Halfway up, Tony’s face appeared on his display. He realized it was an incoming call, and too late requested, “Karen don’t answer!” As the call connected through.

He couldn’t hear anything of course, and knowing Tony was currently talking to him made his breath quicken. Also the fact that it wasn’t even 9 am, which was early — and therefore abnormal, for Tony.

“Hi Mr. Stark,” he greeted as happily as he could. “I’m, uh, climbing up this wall at the moment, can I, uh, can I call you back later?”

He hoped Mr. Stark said yes, and he wished he’d have video called so Peter could see his expression and attempt to read his lips, but he couldn’t. Instead he quickly exhaled “Karen, hang up,” and watched as the call disconnected. He climbed onto the roof, and hoped that Karen’s compliance to hang up meant that Tony hadn’t said anything too important. Besides, Peter should probably head back to the tower anyways to start figuring out what was wrong.

Now that he was on the roof, however, he was met with another wave of panic as the view of the skyline met him. He looked at the silent scene of a busy New York City morning, down the streets where he knew cars were still honking, people were talking, phones were ringing, and kids were yelling while they played on their weekend, a morning free from school. He knew it was going on, and he was missing it. Sure, this was every day for a lot of people, but he was Spider-Man. His job required his ears.

As if to prove his point, his spider sense flared up, and he fell to the ground. He looked around, not knowing why or where it had come from, but he didn’t see anything. Was he even the one in danger, or was it alerting him that someone else needed his help? After nothing happened for another moment, he ran to the side of the building and looked down. The scene he saw was normal, people walking, cars driving, even the alleyway he had come from was clear. His spider sense was still pulsing though, so he ran to the next side of the rooftop, frantically looking towards the street.

His eyes immediately found the scene, a car crash. It had just happened, and he wondered if he’d have been able to prevent it if he’d been able to hear. He didn’t know if they’d crashed before or after he’d felt the warning, although experience told him it was the latter. He swung down to the scene, and saw the driver open their door and fall out of the car. He ran up to her, seeing the passenger seat was empty, and helped her to her feet.

“Are you alright ma’am?” He asked, and not seeing any blood on her or problem with standing on her own, he thought so. Except her expression was still extremely worried, and she was talking, yelling maybe, but Peter couldn’t tell what she was saying. She then stumbled forward. Peter caught her, confused as to what she was going on for. She had just been in a motor vehicle accident, after all, so maybe a bit of odd behavior could be expected? He wished he could hear her to be sure.

She pointed back to the car. He looked, but didn’t see anything in the seats, besides boxes that had fallen in the back; other people were approaching the car now, too, trying to open the crushed back door. His spider sense was still calling, and he wondered what was in the back that could be dangerous. What everyone but him currently knew of. He turned back to face the woman, but she just grabbed his arm with a grip that told him that Something was Not OK and brought him around to the back, tears on her face now. The driver of the other vehicle ran up to them, saying something, before turning and walking anxiously with them. Confused, Peter cautiously followed them to the car, pushing past other people.

He suddenly saw behind the boxes in the back seat that there was a baby car seat, spider-sense screaming, and he was pretty sure he cursed out loud. He darted past the woman, pushed past the small, struggling crowd, and tugged the jammed car door, ripping if half off its hinges. He pushed the boxes out of the way to get to the baby. He tore the seatbelt in half to let the car seat loose, and handed the entire seat to the woman.

He glanced at the baby, happy and relieved to see her alive— crying but unharmed, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The mother unbuckled her, smiling now, and seeing that the scene was okay to go on without him, Peter left.

He swung away, away to a rooftop surrounded by nothing but open sky, and crumpled to the ground.

His spider-sense didn’t stop. He didn’t feel safe anymore. His chest tightened, and he felt like his airway was closing. He closed his eyes tightly and focused on breathing in, slowly, breathing out, slowly. Repeating it. His fingers dug into the rough artificial ground.

Someone could be screaming right next to him, and he wouldn’t even know it.

He could see something flashing even through his closed eyelids, and opened his eyes to see this at his display had changed.

Next to a transparent box showing his elevated vital signs, Mr. Stark’s concerned face was on the screen. He said something, but Peter shook his head.

“I can’t hear you, Mr. Stark,” he said, hoping his voice was louder than a whisper, “I can’t hear you.”

Tony frowned, typing something on his screen and saying something else Peter hoped wasn’t supposed to be directed at him, and at once a new message popped up on the screen, all systems online and functioning correctly.

Peter just shook his head again. “I’ll be right there,” he said, “I’m heading back to the tower now. Please meet me there, please.” And he hung up before Tony could try to tell him something again.

He had to take four breaks on his short trip back to the tower, just to breathe. He felt like he was dying, but he hadn’t been hit by anything, so he couldn’t be. It painfully reminded him of an asthma attack like those he used to have pre-powers.

But, unlike those past times when he wouldn’t have even been able to stand, every time he caught his breath even just enough to stand up again, he forced himself to keep going. He was so afraid to see someone get hurt, or worse, without him being there to prevent it from happening. His never relenting spider-sense made him feel like people were getting hurt around him; it made him feel blind, like he couldn’t see things he knew were there.

It wasn’t even 10 am when he arrived back at the tower, but Peter fell into the tower window, gasping. He saw Mr. Stark stand up in surprise at Peter on the floor, before rushing over to him. Peter pushed himself up so he was sitting, and ripped off his mask. He felt the tears on his face and didn’t know how long he’d been crying for. He just wished he could hear the voice of his mentor as he stopped in front of him.

Peter reached forward and grabbed his shirt, seeing that the man was trying to talk to him.

Peter cried, “I can’t hear, Mr. Stark; I can’t hear you.”

Mr. Stark pulled him to his feet, touching Peter’s chin so that Peter could see his face, and tried to say something else. Peter shook his head. “I can’t hear you,” he repeated, “I can’t— I can’t hear anything.”

Mr. Stark pulled Peter into a hug, where they stayed until Peter could feel his heart rate slow and his breathing calm down. He pulled away to wipe his eyes. Mr. Stark gently took his arm and led him into the lab, where he handed Peter a metal device shaped like a pencil. He pressed a button and a nearly (but not quite) opaque holographic blank screen popped up in Peter’s face out of the long side of the not-pencil, making a sort of hand-held paper in Peter’s hand.

Suddenly the words, “can you understand me now?” Typed into the screen, and Peter looked up. Tony said something else, and the words, “it usually works pretty well, just let me know if something doesn’t make sense” appeared. Peter raised a confused and interested eyebrow.

“This is neat,” he said curiously. “Why do you have this?”

Tony shrugged, and started speaking. Then, “It’s not the first time I’ve had deaf friends hanging out in the tower, you know.” Peter didn’t know that, but didn’t ask further. Whoever it was had his respect, though.

“So do you have any clues?” Tony’s question popped up on the holographic tablet.

Peter shrugged. “Pretty sure it was whatever I got sprayed with last night.”

“Makes sense. You were pretty out of it yesterday you slept through most of the movie and didn’t even wake up when I carried you to bed.” Peter scrunched his eyebrows at the image.

Tony went on. “When did it kick in?”

Peter cocked his head to the side; “what do you mean?”

“What time did your hearing go away this morning?”

Peter shrugged. “Sometime last night.”

He looked at the screen, then at Tony when nothing appeared. Tony was staring at him with an expression Peter had seen before, usually when he’d done something wrong.

Tony spoke, and Peter was for once glad he had good reason to look away to understand him.

“So. You woke up. Your first morning missing a pretty important sense. And decided to go out as the crime-fighting, life-saving, danger-seeking Spider-Man?”

Peter didn’t know if the punctuation on the screen was intentional, but it helped give him an idea of how Tony sounded.

“Ummm, not exactly,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the screen; it was weird talking and not hearing your own voice, and Peter partially wondered if he was talking too loud. “I went to see if I could find a sample of whatever was in the, uh, the spray.”

Tony turned to the table beside him and pushed a button. Silent videos from social media popped up of Spider-Man helping a woman to her feet, then pulling a baby from a crushed car. He had to admit that even without sound, he looked a little lost.

He glanced back at Tony, he was now looking at him skeptically.

Peter shrugged. “I got distracted.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Peter could see a hint of a smile on his face. He thought he was going to say something but instead he walked around the table to where Peter normally sat, grabbed a paper towel, then reached under the table and grabbed a yellow cube from the trash can.

Not a cube. The sponge from last night, that Peter had used to try and scrub the suit clean. Tony held it up expectantly.

A sample.

“Oh.”

Movement on the tablet caught his attention. “Oh indeed,” Tony said.

____________

They had the chemical’s composition within the hour. They had the antidote by lunch. They were waiting for FRIDAY to make the dose needed, when Peter saw Tony laugh.

“What?” Peter hadn’t said anything, and he looked around to find out what he was laughing at.

Tony’s words appeared, “I think it’s time for lunch. Friday tell us when the dose is ready.”

He laughed again. The words, “sure thing boss” followed on the screen.

Peter frowned. “Why is that funny?”

Tony smiled. “Because your stomach growling is more reliable than my alarm clock.”

Peter rolled his eyes, glancing down at his abdomen. “Traitor,” he jokingly accused.

____________

FRIDAY had the dose ready sooner than expected, so Peter brought the rest of his PB&J down to the lab with him.

He’d forgotten the talk-to-text tablet upstairs, so he didn’t hear anything Tony said and hoped there weren’t any urgent special instructions when Tony handed him a glass of blueish liquid.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I just drink it?” Tony nodded and opened a can of sprite, leaning it forward for a toast. Peter tapped the cups, and they both drank. Peter made a scrunched face at the nasty taste after emptying the glass, closing his eyes as he coughed.

“So I’m guessing it wasn’t blue raspberry flavored?” Tony asked.

Peter shook his head and coughed, but froze when he realized he’d heard the question. He opened his eyes to see Tony smiling in front of him.

“We did it Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, his voice sounding wayy too loud in his head.

“We did it,” Tony replied, and Peter visibly flinched.

“Everything’s so loud,” he said quietly.

Tony’s smile faded a little. “Hm.” He spoke softly, “whatchya say we stay in for the rest of the day and watch movies with the sound turned way down low?”

Peter grinned, “I’d love that, but then you won’t be able to hear it!”

Tony put his fists on his hips in mock anger, “are you saying I’m old?”

Peter laughed. “Maybe in spider years.”

Tony rolled his eyes and smiled. “That’s what I thought. Now, what’re we watching? And please don’t make me watch that same movie for the third time in a row. There’s only a certain number of times I can listen to the jar jar lizard, and we’ve already exceeded that.”

“Okay. So how about that old movie Predator?”

“Okay, now you are calling me old.”

“Of course, now that I can hear your reaction.”

____________

30 minutes, 2 buckets of popcorn, and 1 pizza later, the duo finds themselves back upstairs on the couch, working on pulling up Predator with subtitles for Tony.

“So,” Tony began, “going back to that topic of reactions. How about I add this: don’t go out when you’re injured, as if that’s a new rule. Or impaired in some way. And if something like this happens again, come to me first. Please.”

Peter smirked. “Of course.”

“Nuh-uh, I need a stronger promise than that, bud. I don’t feel reassured at all.”

Peter sobered up, then. “Okay,” he said, “I will. Seriously. I was so scared.”

“Me too, Kid. Me too.”

“I thought I’d never hear you again. Or anything.”

“Aw, you’d miss hearing me?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just the good stuff.”

“Like how much I care about you? And how great you are? And I’m so glad you’re my kid?”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up before he could stop them. He quickly turned it into a frown as if contemplating something. “Nah, I was thinking more about the times when you’re like, ‘do you want food?’ Or, ‘here’s some pizza,’ is a good one, too.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Peter, who grinned. “But that other stuff you were saying is nice, too,” Peter added, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks.

“I’m glad you think so,” Tony replied, “because I mean it.”

“Oh,” Peter responded.

“Oh indeed,” Tony replied with a smile Peter could hear in his voice.

The movie started, and Peter rested his head into Tony’s side.

“I care about you too, Mr. Stark,” Peter said quietly. He knew Tony could easily hear over the movie’s volume. “And I’m really glad you’re here for me and that you’re my, uh, my mentor. Well, and like a father figure person, too.”

Tony wrapped his arm around Peter.

“Glad to hear it, Peter. You make a really great kid, you know. And I’ll always be here for you.”

”Thanks, Tony. And you make a really great dad.”

______________

#friendly neighborhood exchange #friendly neighborhood fic exchange #irondad #spiderson #tom holland #robert downey jr.#prompt #this is canon now #UniverseMarvel #avengers #marvel #tony stark #mcu #peter parker #iron man #marvel cinematic universe #spiderman #sdottkramer

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key201303 · 4 years

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😭i meant to reply yesterday but i got busy😭 it's good to hear that you're doing well tho💛💞 I'm doing pretty good! I have two days off from school soon and I don't have that much schoolwork yay ^^ As for that request, barista! au w/ Leedo with y/n as the barista and Leedo is a constant customer who always orders black coffee but y/n always manages to slip some sugar in his coffee. If you don't like the idea you don't have to do it! And if you do it, please take your time and don't rush💖

Okay but this is the C U T E S T concept I needed with this amazing boy 🤧🤧😍😍 not gonna lie but barista au is my weakness 🙂 Sorry for taking so damn long to write this but still I hope the wait was worth enough and that you enjoy this little something ❤❤ Love ya buddy 💛💛

(09:42 am)

Another foggy morning at work has finally arrived. You somehow managed to feel the cozy feeling everyone said the little cafe you worked on had, getting a bit excited about going to work in the past few days when at the very beginning working on that cafe felt like a big burden to you. But the bills for your small apartment and the tuition of your college wouldn’t get paid for themselves so as soon as you noticed the small ad at the entrance that said they were looking for staff, you had to go for it and accept the job even if you weren’t really an enthusiast of serving coffee.

But all of that changed when that boy named Geonhak appeared one fine day. His deep voice did not make justice to how kind and soft he actually was and his shy talks at the very beginning did not make justice to how funny he actually was once he got confident. Day by day you just wanted to arrive at your workplace and wait for him to arrive and order his regular sized americano with extra shots of coffee and have your daily amusing chat about whatever came to your minds. Somehow, both of you grew closer and closer just by seeing each other everyday in that cafe, it felt like it came out of a drama plot.

And soon you started to catch feelings for him, only noticing how much you actually liked him and cared about him when you managed to pour some sugar on his coffee. “Did you really put sugar on it once again?” He said, knocking you out of your thoughts and taking you back to reality. “How can you even drink the coffee as dark as that one? You’re going to have a heart attack someday because of that amount of caffeine.” You replied while you kept preparing the rest of the coffees for the rest of the customers. “Do I have to remind you sugar gives you diabetes?” He said mocking you. “And do I have to remind you caffeine can cause insomnia, headaches, dizziness, fast or abnormal heartbeat, dehydration, anxiety-.” You started to enumerate every single consequence of caffeine on health. “Okay, okay fine.” He cut you off rolling his eyes clearly annoyed. “Since when do you care about me this much?” He suddenly asked sipping his coffee. His question made your cheeks burn in red, just now realizing how much you liked him once again. “I guess I consider you a friend now after all this time…” You confessed, your eyes glued on the coffee you were making obviously unable to meet his gaze. “Cool, I like it.” He said, sipping once again on his coffee.

And just like that, another amazing morning with him finished, making you think about a future with him. At first it felt crazy but nowadays, after dating him for a year and celebrating your first anniversary in the same cafe, it didn’t feel crazy at all.

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zmayadw · 4 years

Text

Evening to all :)

Time for the next part :)

Have a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 10

I woke up with a terrible taste in my mouth. I had no clue what time was it, but the sun was out already, making me squint my eyes. I got in sitting position slowly, banging in my head intensifing with every move i made. Ugh, i'm never drinking again, i scolded myself. Squinting, I focused on the little alarm clock that was on the night stand. 10.34. Whoa, i cant remember the last time i slept this long. I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom. I filled the glass with wather, rinsing my mouth a few times before gulping down two glasses. My stomach growled at it, i just hoped not to throw up .Taking a shower would be a wise thing to do, so i just threw the clothes i had off and entered the shower. The warm water felt good, i just let it pour over me for a while. I wrapped myself in the towel taking some painkillers for the headache. Getting back to the room, i dressed up, and sat on the bed. I felt a bit better, but still not enough. Coffee, i tought, thats what i need now. I got up, going for the purse i threw on the floor when i got in, searching for my phone. Shit, i cursed, it wsnt there. I checked every pocket, even Jake's hoodie, but my phone was nowhere to be found. Crap, i probably left it at a the Aurora last night, when Jessy and me wer taking pictures. Or at lest i hoped so. Well, i was going for coffee, so i could stop at the Aurora eitherway. I grabbed my backpack with drawing stuff. Who knows, i might be up for some drawing, no matter I still felt woozy from last night drinking. I putted my sneakers on, grabed my stuff and car keys. Walking wasnt an option this time, i wasnt feeling well enough for it.

When i parked my car infront of the Aurora, I saw Dan's car was still there. I smiled as i left the car, guess i wasnt the only one sleeping late today. I hoped Phil was there already, and my phone too. I entered the Aurora, relieved at the sight of Phil behind the bar. I was washed with the smell of coffee, and as i neared the bar, I pleadingly said to him, sitting on the stool „Please, please, please, tell me i'm not wrong and that is coffee i can smell.“ Phil turned arround , not noticing me when i entered. He grinned at me „You are most definitly right! Would you like some?“ „Yes, pretty please.“ I said, as i putted my hand on the bar, and leaned my head on it as on a pillow. Phil chuckled at me „Want any sugar with it? Or milk?“ „Yes, please.“ I replied, and he vanished through the storage doors. He returned with a big cup of coffe putting it infront of me. I rised my head, took the cup, taking a deep breath of its smell, before taking a big sip of it. „Thanks, Phill, you're my saviour:“ i smiled at him as i settled it back on the bar. „Here to help.“ He said, winking. „Rough night?“ he asked teasingly. „Oh, i dont know how you can be so cheerful.“ I started „I feel like a truck hit me lastnight.“ He laughed „Practice to perfection.“ „I think i would need years of practice to be even close to that kind of perfection!“ i said, making a skeptical face. He smiled at me „So, to what do i owe the pleasure?“ he asked. „Dont get me wrong, im glad to see you“ he said, that devilish spark in his eyes again „But i doubt you came just to see me.“ „You caught me.“ I said, even tho it was nice seeing him. „I was hoping that i might have left my phone here yesterday.“ He shook his head at me, crouching down searchin for a few seconds under the bar, giving me my phone as he got up. „Better be carefull next time, good thing i noticed it as you left.“ „Yay, thanks Phil, again.“ I told him, giving him a big smile. „I owe you big time! Both for the phone, and coffee.“ His phone rang then „Sorry business calling. Be right back“ he said, answering his phone and going through the storage door. I checked my phone with him gone, finding out few missed calls and messages from Jessy. She was worried i havent answered her jet, so i decided to call her while waiting for Phil. The tone barely sugested it rang when Jessy's voice boomed from the other side. „Finaly! Do you know how worried i have been? Are you allright? Where wer you? Why didnt you answer me before?“ It made me smile a bit, her worrying for me like that was so sweet. „Im sooooo sorry Jessy“ i said pleadingly „I left my phone at Aurora last night, i just got here to get it.“ Phil returned at that point, and i mouthed to him 'Jessy's' name, indicating who i was talking to. Her voice boomed again, and i moved my phone a bit from my ear, wich made Phil laugh. „Ofcourse you did! Its no wonder after all the whiskey you had! Dan is still sleeping like a log! You two really had it last night!“ „Aww, Dont be cross, Jessy.“ I started pleadingly again „I promise next time we wont over do it.“ Phil was grining at me now, and i stuck my toung at him, trying to calm Jessy down. „C'mon, you cant tell me you didnt have some fun yesterday.“ I started „I have some pictures on my phone as a proof of it.“ Phil threw his thumb up, showing me i said a good thing, and i grined at him. „Alright, i admit last night wasnt all that bad.“ Jessy started, sounding calmer now „But you're still not off the hook completly.“ „Thanks, Jessy“ i started, grining as a sign of victory to Phil. „You can scold me some more at lunch, if the deal for it still stands.“ „Ofcourse!“ Jessy cined cheerfuly from the other side „Dan will be a sleep for God knows how long, and im already bored here.“ I quickly moved my phone from the ear checking the time. „Its 12.20 now, when do you want us to meet?“. „I'll meet you around 14 at the Aurora. I doubt Phil will mind you hanging there with him till then.“ She replied, teasing me. „Somehow i think you're right.“ I said, looking at Phil with a devilysh smile. „Cya later, Jessy.“ I sadi, lovering my phone. Phil looked at me,a bit confused „Wat was that about?“ „Oh, just Jessy being Jessy.“ I told him, grining. „Fine, fine, be all mysterious.“ He teased me. „Awww, c'mon, you wouldnt find me so interesting if i was an open book.“ I told him, smiling sheepeshly. He looked at me, with that intensifing look again, making me feel heat spreading through my body „You're not wrong about that.“ Crap, what are you doing again, Maya, i scolded myself. Phil was definatly into me, and i was toying with him like this. It really wasnt my intention, i didnt want him to get the wrong impression about anything. But it felt so easy for me, talking to Phil, compared to Jake. Why does all have to be so tough and complicated with him? It feels like walking on egg shells every time im with him: dont do this, dont say that. Shit, it shouldnt be that way, should it? Was i really that much into Jake? Blah, i dont know anything anymore. I wish he would be more open with me, it would make things so much easier. I was lost in my toughts when Phil finaly snaped me back to reality „Maya? You allright?“ I looked at him, shaking my head, to clear it from all the 'Jake' toughts. „Yeah, sorry.“ I started „Guess the coffee didnt kick in properly yet.“ Phil looked at me, and i could see he didnt really belive what i told him, but decided not to take the matter any further „If you say so.“ Was all he said. I smiled shyly at him. „Do you mind if i just hang here for an hour or so, before metting with Jessy? I dont feel up to driving back to motel, and the coffee isnt bad here either.“ I tried, smiling, waving my empty cup at him. Phil looked at me, rising one of his eyebrows, and smiled devilishly „How could i say no to a beautifull woman?“ He took my cup, winked at me vanishing through the storage doors. I could feel my cheeks flushing again, and my heart beating faster. Shit, shit, shit..

When Phil came back with another full cup of coffee i asked if its ok if I sit at one of the booths, to wich he said fine, since he did have some work to be done. I took my stuff and coffee setteling at the booth. I had a bit over an hour before metting with Jessy, i hoped some inspiration for work might come to me. I took my stuff out of the backpack, took my sneakers off, sitting with my feet up on the booths perch. I liked drawing like that. Leaning my drawing pad on my knees i tried to focus on my work, but my toughts just kept wondering off. I tought about Phil, sneaking glances towards the bar. He was good looking, always nice to me, even tho everyone warned me that he was a 'no good' considering women. He never showed any sign of it towards me. He was easygoing, i enjoyed his company, we definatly clicked. Then there is Jake. I was definatly drawn to him, cant deny that. When im near him, it feels like when a moth is drawn towards fire. Cant fight it, its driving me crazy. But nothing with him is easy. Its like taking one step forward, then not one, or even two, but ten steps back. Its so frustrating. And with all that had happened, i feel like all the progres we had was completly gone. My head was still too woozy for thinking of stuff like this. I setteled my drawing stuff down, taking my coffee, leaning back in the booth. Maybe Jessy would have some advice fore me. Two heads are smarter then one, or so they say. But i should definatly talk to Phil, at least try to explain things to him. I dont want him thinking im giving him some false hope here. As if he could sense my toughts, he turned around, took his coffee and walked towards me. „Mind if i join you?“ he asked, and i smiled „Ofcourse i dont. I guess my inspiration is still sleeping, so no work to be done at the moment.“ He grined „Thats good for me. I can have the pleasure of your company for some more then.“ I chuckled at that, siping some more of the coffee. But i tought again about talking with him about everything. My face must have gotten some serious expression, 'couse Phil looked at me a bit serious, before asking „Whats bothering you, Maya? I have a feeling you want to talk to me about something.“ I looked at him, those deep eyes of his gazing intensly at me, trying to dig up my toughts. „I do.“ I admitted after a moment „But to be hones, i dont know how to start .“ „Well, just do your best.“ He said, and i started to get the feeling of a knot at my stomach again. „Allright.“ I said, but the words didnt come easy after that. „I like you, Phill.“ I said finaly after a moment of silence. He chuckled „Ok, thats a good start.“ „Ah, but that was the easy part.“ I started „Now comes the tricky one.“ I could notice him tensing a bit, like he knew where this might lead to. „Ok, go on then.“ He said. „I enjoy your company, talking to you, its so easygoing. I feel we clicked, that theres some 'spark' between us, and i know you noticed the same.“ „You're right about that.“ He replied. „But..“ i started, and Phil interupted me, sighing „Ahh, there it is, the famous 'but' part.“ „Please, Phil, just let me say what i have, then you can hate me.“ He looked at me, his face getting a soft touch „I couldnt hate you, Maya.“ „Dont say it untill im not done talking.“ I said, a bit sadness creeping to my voice. „Alright. Please, continue.“ „Ok. As i started earlier,i like you, but i dont want to get your hopes up.“ I settled my coffe on the table, my hands fidgeting with the cup. Why was this so hard? „Shit, Phil, im a complete mess at the moment.“ I started „I myself dont know what i want, and its tearing me up inside. There is someone, and i dont know where I stand with him. And i dont want to start something new, if im not a 100% sure that its the right thing, that its something i really want. With no loose ends catching up on me.“ I looked up at Phil, him still not taking his eyes off me. „Am i making any sense to you here?“ i asked, lovering my head. I really didnt want to have this conversation, but that was me being honest. All of a sudden, i could feel Phil's hand covering mine, and i looked back up at him. He still had that softness written all over his face. „I appriciate your honesty, Maya.“ He started „Now let me be honest also.“ „Ofcourse“ i said „I expect nothing less.“ „Good.“ He looked at me more serious now. „You know i like you, you said it yourself. I dont know why, but i felt drawn to you the moment i saw you. Theres something in you that makes a man bedazled by you, i cant explain it differently.“ He paused for a moment before continuing. „And i get it, you dont want to get into something half hearted. And i applaud you for that. Because, if anything was to happen between us, i wouldnt want it that way either.“ He looked at me now, his gaze intensifing again, and i started to feel that heat again. „If it was to happen“ he continued „I would prefere if you wer in it with every inch of your body and soul.“ I was mesmerized by his words. He was so open with me, the words came so easy to him. Why cant it be like this with Jake. „Allrighty, that was pretty honest there.“ I said finaly, making an aqward smile. „You wanted me to be honest.“ He said, adding „And just so you know, im not going to make it easy for you.“ He looked at me now, with that devilish spark in his eyes again. I looked at him puzzled „What do you mean by it?“ He grined at me „Its like this: i will continue to act like i did so far, and you can do the same, cause, lets face it, we both like it.“ His grin widened, and i smiled back at him. „Good, you get me. But, until i get a confirmation from you about freely taking it a step further, i will do whatever i can to maybe, just maybe, help you feel a bit less messy and steer thigs in my favore.“ „And what if it wont end as you hope it would? Can you be ok with just being my friend?“ i asked him. He looked at me for a moment, before answering. „Honestly“ he started“i cant say i wouldnt be dissapointed, a little hearth broken probably, but i would respect your choice. And yes, Maya, if that would be so, i would gladly be just your friend.“ “Thanks, Phil, i appriciate all you said.“ I told him „I was kinda affraid of having this conversation with you.“ „You, affraid? I cant belive that“ he said, teasingly „Belive me, i was scared as hell.“ I said, adding to it „But im glad we had it. I didnt want it to become aqward between us at some point.“ „Not gonna happen.“ He said, winking at me. I smiled „Shit, you know, even thou i had enough yesterday, i could actualy use a drink right now.“ Phil lughed so hard „Awww, you really did get scared. We are in a bar afterall, you just say the words and ill bring you that drink.“ He said, looking at me with one raised eyebrow. „Only if you join me“ i said, grining at him „ And if you dont tell Jessy about it.“ He got up from the booth, smiling and winking before he left for the bar „Deal!“

#duskwood fanfic #duskwood #duskwood mc #duskwood phil #duskwood jessy

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years

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How about a quick one shot of reader drunk texting Henry with a joke question about his sexual prowess and he actually replies? Pretty pretty pretty please? I love you thx🕵🏻‍♀️

Hey anon I totally not know outside of tumblr and totally not was having a conversation about this before I got this message. Thanks for asking about this I totally wasn’t planing on writing anyway 😜

Taglist:

@ladyreapermc / @theolsdalova / @greenmanalishi / @itsmydreamlifethings / @palaiasaurus64 / @celestial-vomit / @penwieldingdreamer / @notyourtypicalrose / @babypink224221/ @fanficsrusz / @solariumss / @starlite13 / @ly–canthrope / @mytbel0st / @oddsnendsfanfics / @ravenpuff02 / @sofiebstar / @chamomilebottom / @keiva1000 / @agniavateira / @peaceinourtime82 / @dearlybelovedluke / @diehadess / @watermeloncavill/ @hnryycvll

@its-jb86/@mis-lil-red/@mrrightismrreeves

The last Martini definitely had been to much. Groaning you opened one eye, the sun high up in the sky. Turning yourself around you glanced at your clock. Almost 11am That was not how you wanted to start your saturday. You had been out with a couple of friends, celebrating your new job. You didn’t even know when you got home. All you knew was that you needed a shower and a coffee.

Freshly showered, your head slightly less hurting you leaned with your head on the counter in front of the coffee machine in hopes it would get ready faster if you just kept looking at it. Sighing you reached for your phone. All you friends seemed to made it home safely, your best friend just texted you that she would be over later for your weekly TV Date. You were just about to put your phone down when you got an instagram message

Blinking you looked at your phone.

“What?” You whispered shocked. Trying hard to think what on earth you could have written him, you closed your eyes. Breathing in deep.

Yes you had a wild discussion about how hairy he was. And yes your best friend insisted on him having to be good at eating out because of that tongue of his. Years ago you had worked as a PA on set for him. He had always been nice to you and one of the reasons you had pursued your dream to become a director.

Mortified you opened your instagram app, getting to your messages.

“Oh my god…” You groaned when you began to read.

Reading that whole exchange over and over you felt like dying on the spot. Not that you slided into his DMs like a fucking teenager, no, he replied. Setting your phone down on the counter you brought your hands up to massage your temples, the headache getting more serious with each second. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed. The only acceptable reaction to this would be to move to another continent. But you couldn’t because you just got a new job. So you breathed in deep and answered him.

Biting your lip you set your phone down, finally going for the cup of coffee you had been waiting for. A pling of your phone showed a new message.

>April 12th, 11:59: No need to be sorry. We’ve all been there and drunk texted. Usually it’s an Ex though... Shame for you I was bored out of my mind and actually remembered you when I saw you texted me. Usually I don’t look at my messages. Too many weirdos.>

You chuckled.

You texted. You were sitting in your bed, biting your lip.

<April 12th, 12:12: No one. Didn’t get an answer, silly. We invested the money in a bottle of Whiskey.> You giggled.

<April 12th, 12:20: You’re right. Let me make it up to you. Tonight? I’ll buy the drinks.”

Frowning you looked down at your phone. Was he serious? You were still wondering about why he was texting you at all, and now he invited you for a drink?

You would lie when you’d say you didn’t think about him after you finished your work with him. How couldn’t you? Not only was he gorgeous, he also was funny. And a geek. The day you had found him in his trailer playing World of Warcraft you were sure he was messing with you, but no. He was serious.

<April 12th, 12:27: Can we talk about yesterday's question when I say yes?> You texted back, biting your lip.

tbc….

#asks #requests #i guess?#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Gaps in His Files (Part 11) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Logan had not lied to Patton this morning. He was not going to go to the university today, but… he didn’t think he was going to find any answers in this apartment. And he did want answers now. He had always wanted to get his memories back of course, but something a little more urgent had been niggling in the back of his mind since yesterday to the point of a headache.

He’d spent the first hour after Patton left searching around the apartment. The two of them had fallen asleep either on the office floor or in the living room the last few nights while going through Logan’s files in the hopes that those would return his memories. They hadn’t; Logan was beginning to think they wouldn’t. There was something missing from the files that Logan could not determine. The files they were reading were extensive, but heartless: noncontextualized receipts, detached notes, and aloof reports. Logan was all for facts most of the time, but his notes gave little insight into meaning. Perhaps if he got his memories back, he should reevaluate his filing system’s configuration. He knew by now he wasn’t going to find anything within those pages.

So, instead of continuing to read through old receipts, he decided to investigate a room he hadn’t been in yet: the bedroom. The blinds were thick and had been closed tight keeping the room dark enough that it could be night. He’d left them closed and flipped on the light. Like most of the apartment, there weren’t many decorations. There was just a large bed, carefully made that took up most of the large room and a nightstand with only a reading lamp on it. The only thing that seemed out of place was the suit he found in the closet covered in a white plastic bag. When he unwrapped the suit, he found it was not something Logan would ever think to wear. He much preferred plain black suits over the honestly rather gaudy golden one he found inside the plastic cover. He was unsure why he’d apparently purchased such a thing especially since he seemed to have a perfectly functional black one in the closet too.

Then he’d laid in the bed that he knew he must have slept in every night for years judging by the way the right side molded to his body. The sheets had smelled weird somehow, though not as though they’d been spoiled, and he’d found himself rolling toward the other side, his hand finding a pillow in the center of the bed. He’d felt something like a tearing in his chest and found himself curling around the pillow so he could hug it to his chest. For the first time since he’d woken in this time, he’d been absolutely certain that something of his memories must still be in his head because this… this was something like a word on the tip of his tongue he couldn’t quite capture.

Part of him had just wanted to go to sleep in this strange, but not strange bed, curled around that pillow, but the other part had forced him to his feet.

He’d gone back to the main room and found his wallet. He dug out the receipts there before spreading them out on the kitchen counter in chronological order.

He was going to retrace his steps from the week before the incident.

Most of the receipts were places on or around the college campus. He decided to avoid the ones on campus, staying true to his word, but planned to work his way out using the university as the epicenter.

The first place he went was a coffee shop which according to the address on the receipts was only a few blocks from where his office building was. It was called ‘The Hideout’ and was the source of multiple receipts. He was easily able to find it on foot.

The second he walked into the shop, he was hit by a wave of déjà vu so strong that he felt he might get a nose bleed. It was as though he’d walked the path to the cash register thousands of times in a dream.

“Hey Logan!” a cheery man said. “I haven’t seen you or Patton in days. I was getting worried.”

“I have been ill and am still recovering,” he replied. “Patton has been caring for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to be out and about. Do you just want your usual coffee or are you eating?”

“I’d like a turkey sandwich,” he said.

“One turkey sandwich, no tomatoes,” the man said, “and a coffee with two sugars, don’t tell Patton.”

Logan gave him a tight-lipped smile and handed him a twenty-dollar bill, adding another receipt from the establishment to the pile in his wallet.

He sat at a corner table and the sight of the calm coffee shop both made him want to relax and want to jump out of his skin. There were ghosts dancing in front of his eyes: little wisps of figures that weren’t there and conversations that weren’t happening. His head hurt.

He ate the sandwich and drank the coffee, the taste as familiar and unknown as the rest of this place. The man at the till waved to him when he left.

The next place was a small bookstore that he walked around for half an hour and the grocery store on the corner. Each prickled familiarly at the back of his skull but did not give him quite the pounding headache as the coffee shop had.

He felt like a ghost haunting his own life.

There were a few other places he found himself, a couple of fast food restaurants and a juice bar in a gym that didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Last, he ended up outside a tailor’s shop farther from the university than anything else. He had a feeling this had been the source of the new suit in his closet. He didn’t go inside, just stared at the mannequins in the window for a long time before he walked away.

He got back to his apartment a bit past noon. Perhaps he should not have been surprised after yesterday that there was a figure on the couch. Logan froze. Patton did not react for a moment to the sound of Logan entering the apartment and Logan wondered if he’d fallen asleep sitting up with his head in his hands.

“Did you go to class?” he asked after a few long moments, still not moving.

“No,” Logan answered.

After enough time that Logan started to shift uncomfortably, he removed his hands and gave a sharp nod. “I��m glad to see you aren’t dead.”

“Would you like to know where I went?” Logan would like to tell him, especially because now it felt like the missing memories, wherever they were in his head, were slamming into whatever figurative wall the memory gun had erected in his mind.

Yet, Patton said, “no. Not right now.” He got to his feet then. “What would you like for lunch?”

He was not hungry as he’d eaten recently, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Anything is fine.”

“I’ll make buffalo chicken tenders,” he said and once again Logan was stricken that the man with an expression on his face that on lesser men meant Logan was about to be cold-cocked would put forth the effort to make one of Logan’s favorite lunch time foods.

Logan wanted his memories back and not even for himself. He just wanted to remember how to wipe that expression off Patton’s face and wondered why on Earth future him hadn’t bother to write that down.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Epilogue

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #superhero au #memory loss #past child abuse #past child neglect #emotional suppression #self deprecation #gaps in his files #labeled universe #relabeled; refiled #adriana writes

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sighmurderbot · 4 years

Text

Irish Coffee Chapter Four

Title: Triple Shot Espresso

Chapter Rating/Warnings: G, I don’t think there’s even any profanity in this one

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: They meet over coffee and Kierkegaard. There was a spark in his honey-brown eyes that drew her to him. There was a sadness behind her bright smile that drew him to her. Spencer Reid/Original Female Character. Slow burn coffee shop meet. Strangers to friends to lovers. This fic is also available on AO3, it’s ahead of tumblr currently!

previous chapter//next chapter

"I felt it shelter to speak to you."

-Emily Dickinson

The sun dawned on my fourth day off work, and my late alarm roused me. Somehow I woke up tired and rested at the same time. Shooting my boss at the coffee shop a quick text, I hopped in the shower. Sure, another day off might be nice, but I couldn't really afford it if I wanted to stay on track with my plan, plus losing my diner job was still fresh in my mind.

It took less than an hour from my alarm going off to the door to my apartment shutting behind me. My coat felt like gauze as gusty winds chased each other down valleys of skyscraping office buildings, so I hurried my steps to the shelter of the coffee shop.

The bittersweet scent of coffee surrounded me as soon as I opened the door, pulling me in like hands tugging at my sleeves. My eyes fluttered shut for a moment as I basked in the cosy warmth. After missing it for a few days the smell of fresh coffee was heady, and I could almost taste it. It pulled me back to a hazy memory of the sun streaming through tall windows and laughing with my mom, teasing each other about how we liked our drinks. I had always drank mine black, but she poured enough creamer and sugar in to turn the dark liquid almost white.

I opened my eyes and smiled a little, holding onto the image as I nodded to the boy at the counter. Evan gave me a short nod back, clearly displeased with his current situation as he served the woman in front of him.

Even though I was a little early, I still dropped off my things in the back room and slipped on my apron. It was easy to fall into the motions of making drinks and packaging baked goods, supporting Evan while he handled the orders. I enjoyed working in the back, close enough to give the customers a smile with their snacks but far enough to not have to converse with them.

If only we could justify keeping two people on all the time, I thought, handing the next customer their boxed up bearclaw with a smile and a nod. However much I wished, I knew the owner couldn’t afford it. We weren’t close, but she had been a friend of my mother’s, and I was sure that’s how I still had this job.

After an hour of handling customers, the torrent of bodies pouring through the doors slowed to a trickle, and Evan grumpily took his leave. I made my short rounds of the tables, ensuring everyone was settled and happy, and then hurried back to the counter. Propped up on a short stool so it was out of sight of anyone coming through the door, my laptop hummed to life.

I quickly lost myself in the world of scholarship applications. I did qualify for more now that I’ve been working longer, and the notepad open on my screen was populating nicely with links and notes on what scholarships I should apply to and what each required. So absorbed I was in my work I almost missed the annoying ring of the bell above the door.

Thankfully, the awful, high pitched sound was seared into my brain, and before I had even consciously processed it I was standing with a picture-perfect customer service smile on my face. A man and a woman entered the shop, looking around curiously as if they were expecting a surprise.

“Hi!” I greeted, cheerfully. “How can I help you two?”

The man, an imposing, muscular specimen with no hair but eyebrows to make up for it, turned towards me. As soon as his dark eyes fell on me he not-so-subtly elbowed the woman beside him. She was just as imposing, with straight black hair and an “I operate within the law but just barely” vibe. Despite the fact that they both looked like they could snap me like a twig I didn’t sense anything dangerous about them. A second cursory glance revealed they both had weapons on one hip and government-issue IDs on the other, and I nodded to myself.

Knew it.

The man approached the counter first, with a swagger in his step and a barely-restrained grin on his face. The woman was half a stride behind, looking for all the world like she was physically restraining her eyes from rolling.

“Hey,” the man said, flashing a bright smile. “When did they let such pretty girls work here? Am I really so out of touch with my local cafes?”

I returned the smile. Years of customer-facing jobs had quickly taught me how to weed creeps who flirt with women on the job out from guys joking around. This guy struck me as a jokester, so I was happy to play along.

“Looks like it, maybe you’ll have to come by more often to make sure they keep me around,” I replied. The woman made an exaggerated gag expression.

“Sorry about him,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “Doesn’t know when to cool his jets.”

I gave her a reassuring wink. “Not a problem. Can I get you guys something to drink?”

“Sure can,” she replied, relieved at the thought of caffeine. “I’ll take a triple espresso.”

The man beside her turned to her with one bushy eyebrow raised.

“Trying to get off our next case with a heart attack?” he asked. She scoffed.

“I wish. Just trying to stay awake to get through the consultations.”

“And for you, sir?” I set the espresso to brew and returned to the counter.

“Just a dark roast with a splash of milk, please.”

“Coming right up!”

I could feel two pairs of eyes boring into me as I turned to prep the drinks after accepting payment. A surreptitious glance over my shoulder showed the two whispering, but there was no chance I could hear them over the sound of the machines and the everpresent underlying tone of music and conversation that always filled a coffee shop.

A few moments later I returned to the two. Their eyes were piercing but they smiled their thanks when I handed over the drinks.

“Funny name,” the woman said, raising her cup to show the shop’s logo. “Just naming your coffee shop ‘Coffee Shop’. Must be hell for branding.”

I shrugged with a chuckle, I got comments occasionally about the unusual name.

“Makes it easy to remember at least!” I replied.

“Guess so,” the woman said, still seemingly perplexed by the name.

“Thanks for the coffee, sweetness,” the man said.

“You’re welcome, have a good afternoon!” I smiled.

“Thanks,” the woman’s eyes dropped to my nametag. “Katie. Nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

They left, heads bent together as they conferred. I shook my head a little. They were a strange pair, but friendly. Maybe they’d be back one day.

Spencer

It had been four days since Spencer had gone out for coffee. Yesterday he had tried to go back to his old usual shop, right on the corner, but the music had given him a headache and the coffee was too strong and he hadn’t returned.

Still, he thought about the coffee shop called Coffee Shop every day at 2:15pm. So when Morgan and Prentiss strolled off the elevator at 2:10 holding cups emblazoned with the circular logo he clocked it instantly.

“-coffee’s good too,” Prentiss said, taking a sip from her cup.

“You’d like anything that had enough caffeine to hype up a horse,” Morgan teased. Prentiss only shrugged with a half smile.

“Perhaps.”

Her eyes flicked to Spencer, who quickly tried to look busy.

“The barista was pretty too,” she said, a little louder than before.

“You can say that again,” Morgan agreed, also glancing at the resident genius. “She was friendly too.”

“Women are always friendly to you.” Prentiss rolled her eyes.

Spencer’s ears were burning. Was Katie there again? Maybe he should go back, just to see...plus she made damn good coffee. Yeah, the coffee was the reason why he was shoving his things into his bag and pulling a scarf around his neck.

“Where ya going, pretty boy?” Morgan called after him before Spencer even realized he was halfway out of the bullpen.

“Out for coffee,” came the short reply.

“Oh, we would have got you some,” Prentiss said, raising her cup. “We tried out a new place, it’s pretty good.”

“No, that’s okay,” Spencer said hurriedly. “I like getting my own.” He went to leave, then remembered something and turned back. “Thank you.”

With that he strode purposefully out the glass doors, electing for the stairs instead of the elevator. As the door to the stairwell swung shut, Prentiss and Morgan allowed cheshire-like grins to spread across their faces.

“I’m just glad there’s something that’s getting him out of the office,” Morgan admitted, draining his coffee.

“You don’t think it’s odd that he’s so...I dunno, squirrely about it?” Prentiss asked.

Morgan shrugged.

“The kid doesn’t have a lot going on in his life. If this is the one thing he decides to keep private for now, I say we let him have it. He needs something.”

“Especially now.”

The two coworkers and friends exchanged a sober look as they sat at their desks. It was a few moments before one broke the silence.

“They’d be cute together,” Prentiss said, not looking up from the file she was perusing. Morgan glanced up with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied, then returned to his own paperwork. “I just hope she’s ready for our boy genius.”

“Ready for him?” Prentiss almost scoffed. “Has he ever been in a relationship? Maybe we need to help him get ready for her.”

“Relationship might be hoping for a bit much, I just hope she doesn’t hurt him.”

“I hope so too, but honestly, I hope he gives her the opportunity.”

Morgan looked up sharply at Prentiss’ words.

“Why would you say that?” he demanded. Prentiss made a soothing hand motion.

“Because it means he’s allowed himself to be vulnerable to someone outside of the team.”

Morgan’s tense shoulders relaxed a little and he nodded slowly.

“That’ll be the day.”

“Mm, you said it.”

The two bent their heads again, diving back into work. A few blocks away, Spencer nervously fiddled with the strap on his messenger bag.

He was stopped just before the coffee shop windows. He wasn’t sure why he was stopped, only that he was anxious for some reason. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and glanced to the counter before he could stop himself.

Katie was leaning on the counter, propped up on her elbows. Her long, golden ponytail flopped over her shoulder. Eyes fixed on a small yellow notepad in front of her, she tapped a pencil against her lips, thinking.

Spencer pushed the shop door open carefully, so as not to send the bell above the door swinging wildly. He had noticed her winces of annoyance when other customers carelessly shoved their way in.

Still, it made a small noise as he entered, and she looked up quickly. As her grey eyes met his, a smile broke across her face like the sun piercing through cloud cover on a rainy day. Spencer matched her expression instantly.

“Spencer! You’re back!” she exclaimed happily, setting her pad and pencil aside. Spencer felt his chest tighten a little, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so genuinely happy to see him.

“I could say the same for you,” he replied. Katie nodded, twisting a corner of her mouth apologetically.

“I was sick, sorry. I hope you were able to find a decent caffeine fix while I was gone.”

She had been sick, of course. Spencer scolded himself for not thinking of the obvious answer sooner.

“Let’s just say I’m really glad you’re back,” he replied, and Katie laughed.

“I could say the same for you,” she parrotted his earlier words with a twinkle in her eye.

Katie

I felt almost giddy when Spencer walked into the shop. Perhaps it was a sign I needed to get out more, but I enjoyed his company and conversation so much that I couldn’t help it. We bantered for a moment. Watching him smile was like a breath of fresh air, not only after the days alone in my apartment, but after a morning of grumpy customers. It didn’t hurt that he had one of the greatest smiles I’ve ever seen. We laughed as I made his coffee, and when I handed it over he took an appreciative sip.

“Scholarships?” he asked, nodded to the notepad on the counter beside me. I quirked an eyebrow, and he blushed a little.

“Sorry, I can read upside down, I kinda saw before I knew what I was looking at.”

I gave him a reassuring smile.

“No apologies necessary,” I replied, pulling the pad towards me. “Scholarships indeed.”

I scanned down the list of names, amounts, and deadlines.

“Where are you hoping to go?” He asked. I sighed.

“Honestly, wherever I can afford.”

“Dream school,” he countered, and I smiled down at the paper.

“George Washington,” I admitted. “I’ll never make it, though.”

Spencer’s eyebrows drew together, wrinkling his forehead.

“Why?”

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes.

Of course he can’t understand. He probably had colleges tripping over themselves to give him full-rides.

“I’m a pretty good student but GWU is picky,” I explained. “Plus they’re expensive. No way I’ll get enough of an offer from them to be able to swing it.”

I sighed, encroaching anxiety worrying at the corners of my mind.

“I’ll probably just have to move.”

“Where would you go?” Spencer sounded a bit sad as he asked.

“I’m not sure...New York, probably. Or Virginia. Wherever I can afford.”

“You don’t want to leave.”

It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded.

“I really don’t. I have an apartment in the District, I like working here.”

I let out a big sigh, dropping my head onto my hands where they rested on the counter.

“I don’t know what I’ll do yet. I don’t want to leave but if I stay I’m stuck. I have to move forward, ya know?”

I looked up to find a surprising amount of sympathy in his amber eyes.

“Keep at it,” he encouraged. “You’ll find a way.”

The smile I gave him was small and weak, but it was the best I could manage with the impossibility of my situation hanging over me.

“Thanks, Spencer.”

I stood, shaking my head at myself.

“Look at me, rambling on. You come in for your coffee and I just talk your ear off about my problems, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied hurriedly. “I’m always the one talking your ear off, I’m happy to listen.”

“Yeah, but I actually like hearing about what you have to say,” I chuckled, slipping the notepad under the counter.

“You do?” He seemed confused by the prospect.

“Yeah,” I looked up to find him frowning at his coffee. “You’re the best part of my day.”

The words left my lips unbidden and a blush quickly spread across my face.

“Sorry, that sounded weird,” I backpedaled. “I just mean-”

“You’re the best part of my day too,” he cut me off. His own cheeks were red and he was looking anywhere but at me. I felt butterflies start to flutter in my stomach.

“I am?”

He nodded, apparently mute in sudden embarrassment.

I haven’t made a friend in so long, I thought, blinking shyly and dropping my eyes to my fingers nervously twisting around each other. What if I mess this up?

My mother’s gentle voice sounded in my head, quoting Emily Dickenson once more.

“The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.”

An ecstatic experience might be a little dramatic, mom. But...maybe this could be a good one. Maybe this is the silver lining to losing my diner job.

“Do you want to get coffee after work?” I blurted out. The sudden break in silence startled Spencer and he looked up.

“Coffee?”

My rush of confidence was quickly fading.

“Yeah, I mean, it doesn’t have to be coffee. And it’s not a date or anything, don’t worry.”

As if someone like him would ever go out with someone like me.

“I just…” I took a deep breath and forged forward. “I get off at eight and I thought it might be nice to talk while sitting down. If you want. We don’t have to.”

I fell quiet, studying his face carefully, but his expression was unreadable. Hopefully I hadn’t just scared him off…

“Sure, yeah,” he said finally.

I let out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding and smiled.

“Cool! So...if you want to stop by at eight, I know a nice tea shop nearby that does good coffee too, and they’re open late.”

He seemed to be warming to the idea, nodding as I spoke.

“Alright, eight it is.”

I tried not to smile too wide.

Damn, act like you’ve been there, Katie, I scolded myself. Making a new friend is something people do every day.

Spencer glanced at his watch.

“I should be getting back,” he said, regret tinging his tone.

“Oh, yeah, no worries,” I replied. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you later,” he repeated, raising a hand in farewell and slipping out the door. I looked at the clock above the door as it closed behind him.

2:30. It’s going to be a long shift.

#Irish Coffee #my writing #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic

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starshinegoblin · 5 years

Text

Walking Right into Your Heart

Here’s your request @ruensroad for JinYi au where Jin Ling is CEO and Jingyi is a dog walker. In this AU. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng aren’t brother’s but friends from college. Oh and Jingyi is still cousins with Lan Wangji but they aren’t close at the start. Shizui is a Wei here with Wen Qing being his surrogate mother. Here’s the start of their love! It got away from me and thank you for being patient!

///

Bloomp! Bloomp! Bloomp! Bloomp!

Jingyi groaned sleepily waking up to the sound of rapid fire text message notifications on his phone. His sleep crusted eyes opening to see that the alarm clock read that it was barely after five in the morning. He grabbed the pillow placing it over his head in hopes of blocking out the sound. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. Just by the time of day was telling enough. Sizhui may be a man of few words like his father Lan Wangji but when it came to texting it was like he was truly his other father, Wei Wuxian’s, son. Now don’t get him wrong. He does love his best friend but he hadn’t gotten back home to his apartment till after two in the morning.

The lack of bloomp sounds stirred him from his thoughts. He was just about to go back to sleep when his phone started ringing. Jingyi huffed in frustration before reaching out to palm the nightstand until he found his phone. He answered without checking the ID.

“This better be good you, Wei demon. ” he croaked.

“Jingyi?” A-Qing’s soft voice came through the phone instead of Sizhui’s, “Is this Jingyi?”

Jingyi quickly sat up letting the pillow roll off him. A-Qing is Sizhui’s girlfriend and it was rare for her to call him. He moved the phone away clearing his throat before trying again to speak, “Yes, it’s me.”

“Hey, I’m calling you because we are currently at the hospital. Sizhui was in an accident.” She explained.

“Which hospital is he at? What happened?” He asked tossing the blankets back getting out of bed. He grabbed his towel heading to the bathroom. He’d take a quick shower to wake up some more before heading to the hospital.

“He’s at Gusu General and you don’t have to come. He just fell and broke his leg after dropping off one of his clients. That’s all. He should be home either today or tomorrow.”

“I’m on my way.” He said hanging up. He liked A-Qing but he had a feeling in his gut that she was leaving something out. It hadn’t been the first time he’d caught her in a lie when it came to Sizhui. If it was just a broken leg they’d have set it and sent him home. He’d find out soon enough though he thought as he started stripping to get into the shower.

Ten minutes later, Jingyi was fresh from his shower with a hoodie over his t-shirt and jeans with his converses. He put on his sunglasses as he stepped out of the elevator of his apartment building to the front entrance. He might be sipping a Monster Mean Bean but that didn’t mean he needed to be driving with barely two and a half hours of sleep in him. Thankfully his uber was waiting for him.

“Gusu General please.” He said getting inside. An acknowledging nod had the car pulling out of the parking lot to his best friend.

Jin Ling sighed loudly as he tossed the pen on his desk. He leaned back in his chair resting his head against the top of the chair as he rubbed his face. That was the last of his paperwork declining the merger with Chang Industries. A deal that his grandfather had orchestrated in his schemes to get the company back from him after his parents had died. Thankfully, he’d been able to stop it. It’d taken him nearly a year to keep the Chang’s from taking his father’s business. The one that Jin Zixuan had built from the ground up without the help of Jin Guangshan. Jin Ling wouldn’t let it be taken from him.

“Boss?” Rayne, his personal assistant called for him as she stepped into his office. A look of annoyance on her face as she took in his appearance. He was still in yesterday’s outfit and there was day old take out boxes from last night’s dinner on the corner of his desk . “I thought you said you were going home?”

“I did.” He replied sheepishly glancing at the open door to the small living quarters to her left.

Her lips pursed approaching his desk reluctantly using her stiletto covered foot to push the trash can closer to the edge of the desk.“That’s not home, sir.” She stated as she took one of the unused napkins to push the take out boxes into the trash can.

“I’ve been informed by Director Luo to send you send you home.”

“But the Tang meeting.”

“Has been moved Director Luo’s schedule. So has the Fang meeting and Wen meetings. In doing that allows for you to have the rest of the month off. So that you will be well rested for the Zhan meeting.” She replied going over to the coat rack plucking his coat off it.

“Song is already downstairs isn’t he?” Jin Ling asked despite already knowing that his former personal assistant turned director because the woman was smart as hell and was a force to be reckoned with, Luo Qingyang, had everything in place for him. Realistically he knew nothing bad would happen but the anxiety was there. He sighed in resignation before standing up.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded as he rounded the desk to allow her to help him into his jacket.

“See you when I get back, Rayne.”

“You too, boss.” Rayne replied waving goodbye to him.

So….I distinctly remember her saying it was - quote...nothing serious. Jingyi thought biting his the inside of his cheek to keep from scolding the woman. Said would woman was lazily lounging in the armchair munching on a bag of hot cheetos while Sizhui was on the phone with his father’s.

His golden eyes taking in the sight of his best friend - who’s now in a room,with his leg in a cast with a bandage on his forehead and his arm wrapped up. Oh his phone? Yeah, that’d been smashed. So he was talking to his parents on the hospital phone. The woman claiming she couldn't bear to leave him. He sent a glare towards the to the woman as the responses to his father and the injuries told him that he’d been hit by a driver reaching down to grab their phone out of the floorboards. He’d been flung in the air and gravity aided in the sudden stop.

Suddenly, she got a call before his temper got the best of him. “Oh, gege!” she practically screamed happily making Jingyi clinch his jaw. He wished she would just leave.

Gege? he thought, Her parents made one before her? He mentally shivered at the thought as she wiped her cheetos dust stained hand on her jeans before getting up.

“Bunny, I have to take this and if you want I can go get you a phone while I’m out.” she said with a forced sweet tone that sounded grating to Jingyi’s ears. Sizhui gave her a warm smile and nodded as she practically bounced out of the chair grabbing Sizhui’s wallet. Then fluttered out of the room.

“Oh thank god.” he thought he said in his mind but the sound of Sizhui smacking the bed made him realize he said it out loud. He quickly turned his head to look at Sizhui who gave him a knowing look.

“I will dad. Yes, I’m going a new pho….I have A-Yi and A-Qing here with me. There is no need to fly...Okay...I love you.”

“Your mother coming?” He asked with a sigh.

“No, but my dad’s are.” Sizhui replied.

“That’s going to be interesting.”

“Don’t be like that.” Sizhui scolded lightly.

“Sorry.” He apologized.

“It’s okay.” Sizhui sighed.

“What are you going to do about your clients?” Jingyi asked.

“I only have Fairy this week.” Sizhui replied from memory as he leaned his head back. His snapped opened as he leaned forward repeating, “I have fairy this week.”

“ My beloved sugar plum of a husky puppy?”

“She isn’t yours and hardly a puppy.”

“Cuteness trumps reality.” Jingyi replied tilting his nose up in the air.

“What am I going to do?” Sizhui replied. “I don’t have his owner’s secretary’s number. The whole phone was crushed!”

“I mean I could take care of her for you.”

“No, I couldn’t…”

“Dude, you’re not asking and it’s just walking her on her normal route right? I’ve done that a million times with you two. Besides she knows me and you said you’ve never met her owner. Only spoke over the phone with his assistant. ”

“Yes, but-”

“What?”

“What about your clients?”

“Her routine is early in the morning. So that fits perfectly with my other clients.”

“Are you sure?” Sizhui asked again.

“Yes, and don’t even think about sending me the money. You know I don’t need it.” Jingyi chided as he handed his phone to Sizhui to add Fairy’s information into his phone.

Fuck. Jin Ling thought as he woke up to the sound of Fairy barking rather loudly. She sounded happy so it wasn’t an intruder. It hadn’t been her barking that bothered him rather than the sharp pain to his head when he’d trying to sit up to go check on her. His body gifting him with a skull cracking headache after finally getting more than two or three hours of rest. He reached into the nightstand grabbing for the bottle of aspirin he keeps there. Popping two of them in his mouth then washing it down with tepid water from the glass that he left there last night.

He tossed the bottle on the back in the drawer before getting up. Jin Ling gently rubbed his temples with both hands as he stepped out of his room walking towards the living room. He guessed that he’d probably left the blinds opening and Fairy had spotted a bird on the balcony of their penthouse. Though the idea faded as he stepped into the living room seeing a man crouched down scratching behind both of Fairy’s ears.

“How’s my favorite sugar plum?” The man childishly said to his dog earning a happy bark.

“Apparently happy and her name is Fairy.” Jin Ling stated with a scratchy grumbling tone dripping with sarcasm making the other man jump and topple back onto his butt. The way his beloved husky was acting plus the clock on the wall told him that this was his dog walker.

Jin Ling’s dark eyes taking in the sight of him. The man had dark brown hair cut short with a long bangs but not too long that it covered his beautiful whiskey colored eyes. He wore a jean jacket with an over sized grey sweater and a pair of jeans with black converses.

“Uh, I think so too.” the man chuckled with a blush creeping up his neck from the sweater’s collar, “Stop sugar plum.” he said to Fairy ignoring him while gently pushing her off him to stand up, “You must be her owner. Since you’re home. I’ll just go.” He gestured towards the door.

Jin Ling was about to agree but then he got another sharp pain. “Wait, If you don’t mind can you walk her today?”

“Sure, thing. Let’s go sugar plum.” The man nodded heading out the door with Fairy and her leash before he could ask about why he was even here. Jin Ling huffed turning around. He’d worry about the cute dog wal...wait no…annoying dog walker later. He shook his head making it hurt even more. His head was busting and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed.

“Dude.” Jingyi said practically yelled into his phone the moment that Sizhui answered the phone. “Sugar Plum’s dad is hot.”

“How do you know that?” Sizhui asked with a worried tone.

“I went to go pick her up and he appeared in the living room. Lord, Sizhui. He’s hotter than the sun.” He happily answered.

“Jingyi!”

“You should have seen him. That messy bed hair, the muscles, and the -”

“Don’t say another word and don’t you dare sleep with my client.” Sizhui replied with a warning tone.

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

‘Jingyi.”

“Okay, Okay, I won’t.” Jingyi chuckled “But I can ogle right? Because he has a tattoo on his left pec is…”

“I’m out.” Sizhui replied hanging up. Jingyi couldn’t help but laugh sticking his phone in his pocket as he refocused on the walk. If he ran a bit with Fairy to try get the memory of her shirtless owner out of his head before going back no one else would know.

#Walking Right Into Your Heart AU #ruensroad req #jinyi #jin ling #lan jingyi #lan shizui #dogwalker! jingyi #ceo! jin ling #this got so long #a new au that i love #modern au #i hope that you enjoy this #Sugar plum is my hint about the sugar plum fairy being one of my favorite christmas tunes

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swimmingnewsie · 5 years

Text

Of Coffee And Cookies (Chapter 6)

...I had to get one last chapter out to you guys before the new year! I wish you the merriest, happiest new year to you call!

Enjoy!

Link to AO3

---Anna was absolutely miserable. Today was one of the worst shifts she had worked in a while. It was a happy hour day, meaning the store was more packed than normal and customers were grumpier than normal when their coupons wouldn't work. She had been scheduled to close with her least favorite shift manager- the one who always seemed to have it out for her, always giving her the positions she hated most with no reprieve. A headache started building mid shift, and her nose was getting stuffy. That didn't even mention the awful email from this morning. She just wanted to go home and let this awful day end.

Thankfully her shift did in fact end, and Anna made it home to her cozy apartment. She entered quietly in hopes her older sister was actually sleeping for once. Now that her grant had been approved, the planning and research kept her far busier than she was before. And even still, Elsa was insistent on keeping up with her social affairs as if she didn't have an extra ten hours of work per week.

Anna was glad to see Elsa sleeping on the couch, a research article and highlighter in hand. She had worked herself to exhaustion again. Perhaps it was time for bed for both of them.

Before Anna could wake her sister gently, the tickle in her nose escaped in a loud sneeze.

Het-schoo! Het-schoo!

"Anna, you alright?"

Damn it.

"'m fine, Els," she said, her voice stuffy and congested.

Elsa looked up at her with concerned eyes. "Pretty sure the word 'fine' doesn't have a 'd' in it." Before she was even able to protest, another sneeze ripped through her chest, and Elsa had a hand on her forehead. "You're warm, Annie."

Anna sniffled pitifully, reaching out for a tissue. "Just a cherry on top of this day."

"Happy hour was that good huh?" Elsa asked moving off the couch and walking out of the room. "Well I don't think you'll be worrying about work tomorrow at least."

"If they'll even let me off," Anna murmured, curling herself into one of the blankets the cats hadn't taken over.

"They can't do anything if you've got a doctor's note," she said returning with a thermometer. "Open." Anna complied, letting her big sister coddle her a bit. She felt awful, and Elsa was helping: there was no reason to fight it.

Elsa brushed stray hairs out of her face, getting another feel of her forehead. Elsa's hands were always nice and cool; Anna wished they could stay like that forever. "101.2. I think you've earned yourself a sick day, Annie," Anna groaned lying against the couch, utterly exhausted. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Elsa helped pick her up, and guided her to her bedroom. "Thank you, Elsie," she murmured, sleepily crawling into bed. Olaf jumped into bed, curling himself close to her chest. "Hi, Olaf. Come to keep me company?" The white kitten snuggled himself in, a tiny ball of warmth. Soon enough, Bruni followed behind, curling up at her feet. "Thank you, you two."

Elsa smiled and gave both of the cats a rub on the head. "Take care of her, boys." She then gave Anna a tender kiss on the head. "Get some rest. You know where I am if you need anything."

Anna was fast asleep before she could reply.

---

"I'll have a grande americano, with two sugar packets, please."

"Can I get a name for the order?"

"Hans."

Anna looked up, eyes bulging. Hans was there in front of her with those stupid sideburns and that dumb tie she hated so much. What was he doing here? He wasn't supposed to be here. How did he know where she was?

"Yes, sir." She wouldn't acknowledge it was him. Maybe he didn't even know it was her.

"Not even going to make eye contact, dear? I know your mother taught you better than that. Come and give your fiancé a hug."

Anna shuddered. "You're not my fiancé. You can't be here. I have a restraining order against you!"

"No piece of paper is going to keep me away from you. What are you gonna do? Cry about it? Run home to your big sister? Well guess what, dearie. There's no one out there who loves you. I'm all you've got."

"No! That's not true!" She could feel his hands wrap around her hips. How did he get behind the counter like that? This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn’t be happening. "That's not true!"

"That's what you think." Anna felt a cool metal against her back. "Pull a stunt like this again and it'll be more than the gun in your back."

"No, no, no, no!" Anna screamed. "Help! Kristoff! Elsa! Anybody!"

---

Elsa bolted out of bed, waking from her sister's screams. She ran into Anna's bedroom, watching as she thrashed about, almost as if she was running away from something. She pressed the back of her hand onto Anna's forehead confirming her suspicions: her fever was spiking, no doubt making her nightmares worse.

"Anna, shhhh, shhhh," she soothed, stroking her hair. Elsa was careful to wake her, trying not to scare her further. Anna had suffered enough already. "It's just a dream, love. You're safe. It was just a dream."

Anna's eyes opened suddenly, fear evident. "Elsa," she rasped, hot tears falling from her eyes.

"You're okay, you're okay." Elsa rocked her sister back and forth, giving her whatever comfort she could. "Your fever's getting worse. Will you let me take your temperature and get you some medicine?"

Anna shook her head violently. "He's gonna get me. He's gonna win and he'll find me," she cried.

"Who, love?"

"Hans," she choked out, struggling with a coughing fit.

Elsa patted her sister's back, trying to bring her breathing back to normal. "He's not allowed anywhere near you, remember? He's not gonna get you."

"But- but- but-" Anna was cut off by coughs again. "They- they said he's appealing against the permanent order. He's going to win and he's gonna get me!" she sobbed.

"Anna, honey, no that's not true," she soothed.

But Anna shook her head, relentless. "They emailed me yesterday. The lawyers- they think he's gonna win."

Elsa tried to hide the worry in her eyes. It wasn't possible. They had done everything they could to ensure he could never touch her again. And yet, here he was getting another chance. She wanted to look at that email and give the lawyers a piece of her mind, but now wasn't the time. Anna needed her.

Elsa held her sister close, continuing to rock her back and forth. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. I told you that night he would never get to you again. And I intend to keep that promise."

Anna nodded against her chest. "I don't feel good, Elsie."

"I know you don’t, love. I know," she soothed. "I'm going to get you some medicine, okay? And then we'll take care of everything else as it comes." Gently, she pulled the covers back over her feverish sister. "I'll be right back."

Leaving to grab supplies, Elsa kept it together until she reached the sanctity of their bathroom. She let a single tear fall and then refocused herself. Anna needed her to be strong, and strong she was going to be.

---

"You okay?"

Maren's words pulled her out of her thoughts. Elsa couldn't stop thinking. She had spent all day with the lawyers discussing what could be done with Anna's case to prevent the worst case scenario. She was falling behind on her lab work and grading papers for her undergrad students. On top of it she was worried about Anna. It had been four days and her fever was still hanging on with little reprieve.

"Fine, Mare," she said a little too curt.

Maren frowned at her. "You sure? You aren't coming down Anna's cold are you?" She tried to touch at Elsa's forehead, only for Elsa to swat it away.

"I'm fine, Maren," she said a little more sternly than she intended. Elsa could feel the tension throughout her body. She knew it wasn't Maren's fault she was upset, but it felt like her emotions had their own mind right now. She sighed. "I'm sorry I'm being cranky. Forgive me?"

Maren looked at her with concerned eyes. "If you tell me what's going on."

Elsa rubbed at her eyes. "I can't, Maren. I can't burden you with this."

"Elsa. You're my girlfriend. It's not burdening for you to talk about your problems with me."

Elsa sighed again. "This isn't your fight. Please leave it alone. I can't talk about it."

"Why not?"

"I just can't. Please." Why did Maren have to have that stupid stubborn disposition? Why couldn't she just drop it?

"What are you so afraid of happening if you do? Let me help you." Maren said, frustration evident in her voice. Elsa shut down, unable to do anything else. She couldn't tell her, not now. She just couldn't. "Oh now you're gonna go quiet on me? Real mature, Elsa."

Honeymaren stood up from their table, shoving the chair in a bit too hard. "Come back to me when you're ready to act like an adult."

"Honey, wait!"

But it was too late. Homeymaren had walked out and left. Elsa sat there in shock, a tear rolling down her cheek. Why did she have to ruin everything?

Hiht-choo!

As if the day couldn't get any worse. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? She was just trying to protect Anna. And yet here she was in a cafe, anxious and scared and probably sick with no sense of direction.

"Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel."

She hadn't said her father's mantra in years. It wasn't healthy, but she needed it. She needed the feeling of her father's guidance. Pushing her emotions away may have ran Maren away, but it protected Anna. That was all that mattered. Elsa couldn't- no, wouldn't- let her down again.

#frozen #frozen fanfic #frohana #snow sisters #elsamaren #my fic #poor kids are going through the ringer #i say as if it is not my fault as the author

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

Text

Unmistakable: Kauri AU

CW: Noncon touching, noncon kissing, noncon licking, blood, knives… creepy and intimate whumper. References to conditioning/brainwashing. Not exactly NSFW, but you probably shouldn’t read this if an easily-offended person is looking over your shoulder.

FIRST NOTE: This takes place in an alternate universe, and is not part of the main Kauri storyline in any way! So don’t worry, Kauri is happily letting strange men buy him food somewhere else with absolutely no negative consequences. In this AU, @whumpiary‘s Cass is definitely nearby rolling his eyes and saying “I told you so”.

I am tagging the Kauri people just because I figure… if you like reading his story, maybe you’ll also enjoy this! It’s… something! Tagged: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @moose-teeth, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl

The man in the suit smiled at him, warm and friendly, from across the table in the little restaurant, watching with patient amusement as Kauri wolfed down his cheeseburger with impressive speed. “Hey, whoa,“ he said, holding up one hand.

He had nice hands, Kauri thought idly. Long-fingered, like maybe he played an instrument or something.

“You don’t need to scarf that down all at once!” The man in the suit laughed, and it was a really nice laugh, too. “I’ve got no places to be. Just enjoy it.”

His voice was warm and nearly melodic with the accent people had here. Kauri smiled, a little shamefaced, feeling genuinely guilty for having eaten so quickly.

He wiped at the corner of his mouth with a napkin, sitting slowly back. “S-sorry. I just, uh, hadn’t eaten much yet today.” He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, but that wasn’t so bad and he didn’t want any pity over it. It had just been a long bus ride back here from the other side of the city, and yesterday’s panhandling had barely covered the bus fare. “I’m pretty hungry. Thanks for offering to buy me lunch. You… you didn’t have to do that. I’m really grateful.”

“Not a problem at all, lad,” The man said, smile brightening. All he’d gotten for himself was a small plate of fries, and he ate them slowly, one by one, while watching Kauri absolutely demolish a cheeseburger combo. “I’ve seen you before, you know.”

“Have you?” Kauri frowned, fighting a hint of unease. Lots of people saw him - it wasn’t that unusual that someone had seen him more than once. Most people didn’t say anything, though - some kind of unwritten rule, not to let the boy on the street corner know you saw him again and again and nothing changed about his life for the better.

Usually the people who had seen him more than once went one of two ways - they gave less, or they gave more. But they never admitted, either way, that they knew his face.

“You’ve asked for help at that intersection before,” The man replied, cheerfully. There was no hint of judgement in his voice, only curiosity. “I haven’t been able to stop by, previously, but I’ve long meant to take a moment to feed you, give you what you need. Today, I was ready. How long have you been a resident of our illustrious overheated streets, then?”

Kauri shrugged, relaxing now. Okay, that made sense - he probably drove to work the same way every day. He’d just seen Kauri with his little sign asking for anything anyone could spare, giving the same effusive thanks for a handful of coins as he did offers to buy him new shoes, or sandals, or a new shirt.

Meant to buy him lunch, had to wait until he had a long lunch hour, enough time to linger over a plate of fries.

“A few weeks. I came from somewhere else.” He pulled the milkshake closer to him with a low scraping sound of glass on the table, picking up a long-handled silver spoon. He used it to fish the cherry off the top, a little whipped cream coming with it.

Focused on his goal, he didn’t notice the intensity with which the man’s eyes followed the cherry, bits of whipped cream clinging to its rounded red sides, from milkshake to his mouth. He did not notice how the man watched him bite down as the cold juice burst inside his mouth - the way his eyes dropped to Kauri’s lips and then his throat, taking him in as he chewed and swallowed.

He didn’t see the man’s hand, hidden as it was under the table, dig fingernails into his own thigh through the neatly pressed pants to hold himself still.

By the time Kauri looked back at him, the man had his head resting on one hand and was smiling again, friendly and open, an avid sparkling interest in his eyes. “Are you preparing to return to that somewhere else, then?”

Kauri hesitated, then shook his head. “Not for a while. Some things happened… I needed to leave town for a bit. I don’t really want to, um, to talk about it.”

"Sorry to pry. Did you have friends here, then?” The man’s curiosity was kind of nice. Kauri hadn’t spoken to much of anyone since he’d gotten here, just the hi how are you, can you spare a five routine. It was nice to have someone so interested in him, for once.

“I… you’re going to laugh at me,” Kauri said, flushing a little. Something in the man’s expression brightened again, at the sight of the blood rushing to his face.

“Allow me to promise you that no matter what you say… in this moment, I will not laugh at you,” the man said firmly, sincerely.

Kauri ducked his head and used the spoon to take a bite of chocolate milkshake. Cold and smooth on his tongue, burst of sugar and smooth flavor. He closed his eyes, for a second, reveling in it. Owen never gave him milkshakes. The first time Jack had bought him one, his mind hadn’t known what he was looking at, other than shakes he’d seen in movies - but his tongue had remembered the flavor.

He did not see the man’s eyes lock on the way his lips closed around the long-handled spoon.

The man cleared his throat, and Kauri’s eyes opened again to find the same charming, affable expression from before. “I promised not to laugh,” the man said, good-natured humor lacing his voice alongside a hint of a reminder. “You have to tell me what you were going to say.”

“Oh. Right.” The man in the suit was looking outside, now, not even at him at all. “Well, I still think you’ll laugh, but… I picked this city at random when I first got here. Just… got off the bus when it stopped. I don’t know anyone, and I-”

He caught himself in time.

He’d been so relaxed he’d very nearly said, and I can’t read the map.

The man was watching him, expectantly. “You what, love?”

Kauri cleared his throat and took another bite of milkshake. “I don’t usually do things like that, is all,” he said smoothly, and stuck the straw down in his shake now, hoping the time he spent drinking it was time he wouldn’t be expected to make more idle chatter that could get him in trouble. The man didn’t seem like the type to tell anyone if Kauri said something, admitted to illiteracy or any of the other tells that gave the runaway Box Boys away.

Not that they were all illiterate. Just the ones like him, with owners who had wanted to ensure they could not read well enough to find their way out.

They were both largely quiet after that, beyond a few more amused comments about his appetite, a couple of questions about his plans for the rest of the day, and Kauri’s quiet, friendly answers. Kauri made himself eat more slowly, and noticed that the man didn’t really eat anything at all after that. He paid the bill with a smile and a comment to the waitress that had her blushing.

Then he turned back to Kauri. “I need to head back to my car. Your particular corner of choice is right next to the parking lot, isn’t it?” There was a pause for thought, and Kauri caught a flicker of something in the man’s expression that he could not quite read. “Grand and Parkview, right?”

“Um, yeah, I think so.” Kauri had no idea what the names of the streets were, he couldn’t even look at the signs without the headache starting up, swift and strong. That sounded right, though, he thought…

Something and Parkview, anyway, right?

The man gave him a sort of strange look - something deeply pleased, but in a way that made the hair on the back of Kauri’s neck stand up. “Hm. Well, walk me that direction then, will you? I’ve enjoyed your company this afternoon.”

He would follow him out, Kauri thought, slightly uneasy now. Follow him and then make sure he was gone before Kauri ducked down an alleyway or two and spent the rest of his day somewhere else.

The man dropped his pace once they had left the restaurant and stepped back out into the dry sunshine that beat down into Kauri’s dark hair and pale skin with a nearly physical weight. They ended up walking side by side, not quite ambling down the street. Kauri had jammed his hands into his pockets, the leather bracelet on his left wrist a pressure against it, covering the barcode that would give him away.

Kauri didn’t notice the men in simple nondescript polo shirts and pants that peeled themselves away from their casual positions along the wall outside the restaurant and began to follow them. He had started to look over his shoulder at the movement, but a man nearly walked right into him and his head jerked back around so he could duck to the side, almost into the man in the suit who had bought him lunch, and avoid a collision.

Just ahead of them a man in a polo shirt stopped briefly to light some kind of sweet-smelling cigarette. The smoke wafted around Kauri’s head. It smelled like cloves maybe, like the art kids smoked outside his dorm-

How the fuck would he know what kind of cigarettes art majors smoke? Was that part of the memories that slid in and out of his mind? Had he been an art major, maybe? He was sure he used to write poetry…

The man in the suit seemed to notice Kauri’s distraction, because he cleared his throat unobtrusively. Kauri blinked up at him and he smiled, leaning slightly down. “Before we part ways, can I ask… what’s your name, love?”

“Oh. I didn’t tell you, did I? Um. I’m Kauri.” The man held out his right hand and Kauri shook it, trying to ensure his grip was firm. Nat had shown him how to shake hands well, in a way that didn’t give away what he was, or that he was sometimes so nervous. No limp wrist, grip on tightly, firm shake once or maybe twice, let go.

“That’s a good handshake,” The man said, his voice slightly low, and Kauri blushed again, grinning at the compliment. Nat would be glad to hear the afternoon she’d spent teaching him how to act like a normal person had paid off. “And your name is lovely.”

The man just ahead of them had stopped again, took another slow drag, and spoke some words into the phone he had put up to his ear. A car with blacked-out windows pulled up alongside them at the curb.

Kauri didn’t really notice - the man in the suit had lifted a hand to brush the backs of his knuckles against Kauri’s face, and he was entirely focused on the shiver that ran down his spine, not entirely unpleasant. “Kauri. No last name, though?”

Kauri hunched his shoulders, feeling suddenly defensive, uncertain. “I-I don’t…” Don’t say I don’t have one, don’t say I don’t have one, don’t say I don’t have one. “I just don’t, uh, have much to do with my family anymore.” That was true, at least. “So I don’t… use it.”

“How sad. I hate to hear about someone estranged from family so young. How do you spell Kauri, if I may be bold enough to ask?“ The man looked at him through the cloud of sweet smoke. When Kauri turned his head to squint a glare at the asshole smoking so close by, the man in the suit took his chin between thumb and forefinger and turned his eyes back. “Ah, ah,” He said, not quite reprovingly. “I asked a question, darling.”

Kauri felt the first lick of real worry, a coldness that seemed to wash straight down his spine. He moved to pull back, but the grip on his chin tightened and held his eyes locked on the man’s. “Please let go,” He whispered.

“No. Tell me how to spell your name.”

Kauri swallowed, hard. The cold worry shifted into an even colder fear. He felt rooted here, frozen in this spot. “I… I don’t know.”

The man tsked, clicking tongue against teeth, and shook his head without taking his eyes off Kauri’s. “Poor dear. Can’t spell your name… no home, no family, no one knows you’re here, and you clearly didn’t know what street corner I found you at, since those streets are on two opposite ends of this city… Oh, love. You really shouldn’t let strange men buy you things if you’re going to be so gorgeously vulnerable.”

Kauri moved to pull away again and realized there were men on either side of him, the man in the suit in front, and a car just behind. He felt a sinking, awful familiarity - a memory he didn’t actually have, that something like this had happened before. “W-wait-… you, you said-”

“My name is Martin,” The man in the suit said smoothly, interrupting him. “I’m inclined even to allow you to use it, although only in very specific circumstances. But we’ll discuss that a bit more once we have time to really get to know each other, won’t we?”

“No, I’m not-… I don’t want to-”

“Quiet.” The man jerked his head to the side, just slightly, and the men on other side of him were suddenly boxing him in, pressed against him. Kauri flinched back, only to trip on the curb and smack his back into the side of the car, next to the lid for the gas tank.

“Wait, wh-what’s… why are you-”

“Don’t ask questions, darling, it’s tiresome. Get in the car.”

“N-no.” Kauri braced his feet and stood his ground, setting his jaw in defiance. The men on either side of him bristled, but the man in the suit - Martin - only smiled.”I, I appreciate you buying me lunch - I said thank you - but… but people buying you things doesn’t mean you owe them. If you try… I’ll scream.”

Martin’s smile widened, just a little, and he reached out to run a hand through Kauri’s riot of wild black curls, longer than he really meant them to be but he kept forgetting to get a haircut. It wasn’t a malicious movement - more like a man who watched a kitten rolling around on a pillow and he just couldn’t help himself but pet the soft fur.

Kauri shivered, ducking his head instinctively into the touch.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Martin said softly, and did it again. This time, Kauri fought the instincts and the training, and held himself still, despite the rush of pleasure that seemed to run straight from scalp to knees and back again.

“I’ll scream,” He said again, but his voice was weaker. “For… for help.”

“No, you won’t,” Martin said with perfect confidence. “Because you are an escaped Box Boy, and if I take that bracelet off your wrist I’ll see a barcode there, plain as day, won’t I?” The men on either side of him grabbed his wrists and jerked them upwards. Martin held Kauri’s frightened gaze as he held one hand out and the second man handed him a pair of black leather gloves.

“M-My…”

Martin pulled the gloves on, slowly, taking his sweet time. In no hurry at all. Then he reached out, trailing leather-clad fingertips up his arm, until he popped the snaps that held Kauri’s bracelet closed and slid it slowly off, to drop abandoned and unnoticed in the gutter.

On the inside of his left wrist, a barcode in deep black ink, and below that the numbers 645898.

“There it is.” Martin traced little circles across the tattoo, as Kauri fought to pull away and the men in the polo shirts held him fast with his back shoved up against the car. No one walking past them stopped or even looked - if they did they walked even faster to get away. No one asked him if he needed help. “Look at that. You’re property, aren’t you? Just got up and walked away on two legs, like my table getting a mind of its own…”

“Please,” Kauri said softly, and Martin let out a soft exhalation in response. “Please, you don’t have to-”

“I’m giving you a choice, Kauri,” Martin said, in a tone of perfect rationality. Two men having a polite discussion, one of them significantly younger and backed up against a car, the other pressing further and further into his space with every passing second. “If you scream, or try to walk away, I will call law enforcement myself. I’ll show them the barcode on that… beautifully thin wrist-” Martin’s thumb rubbed, slowly, back and forth over the barcode now, pressed into the line of numbers at the bottom. Kauri swallowed hard against the way the pressure of his hand felt very nearly good. “-and they’ll take you back, won’t they? Scan your… microchip, or something.”

“I d-don’t have a-”

“That’s really not important,” Martin said smoothly. One of the men holding Kauri opened the door to the car, and Kauri looked sidelong at the dark space inside with growing panic. Not again, his mind whispered, fighting the fear of a memory he didn’t consciously have any longer.

Still, no one stopped.

No one asked if he needed help.

Martin slid the cool leather covering his palm over the side of Kauri’s face and gently turned his eyes back. “Look at me, love. Your choice is this. You can step into my car of your own free will, or you can… not. If you don’t, I’ll ensure you find your way back to that very sad man who keeps asking about you on TV. If you go with him, sweet boy, I think we both know you’ll never be seen by anyone else again.” He brushed a bit of Kauri’s hair from his eyes, head tilting as he took in the trembling and the fear. Kauri’s breath had begun to come in quick, shaking gasps, and something in Martin lit up in response. “If you come with me, however… I’ll get bored of you, eventually. And I promise I’ll let you back out right here where I found you. Intact… more or less. Honestly… if you’re good enough, I’ll even pay you a little for your time.”

Martin smiled. Kauri swallowed, hard. His heart was racing, less a heartbeat than a vibration inside his chest, and he saw someone passing by look at them, see his barcode, and do a double-take.

People walking by probably saw a runaway Box Boy being scooped back up and taken home.

“Pretty thing like you… you could do a lot with five hundred or so, hm?”

This wasn’t any choice at all.

He had no reason to trust the man, but if the alternative was going back to Owen, and there was even a chance the man was telling the truth about letting him go later… maybe he could buy some time, find a way out of Martin’s house. Houses had ways out, they had stairs or second-story windows. It wouldn’t be like Owen’s balcony, seven stories up, too high up to survive the jump…

“Get in the car,” Martin said again, more firmly this time.

Kauri nodded, a quick jerk of his chin down and then back up again, and when the man let go of his arms he felt his stomach sink as he climbed, all on his own, into the backseat of Martin’s silver car. The seats were a cool maroon leather and it was so dark from the tinted windows that Kauri had to blink rapidly as his eyes adjusted.

“Should we get in with you?” One of the polo-shirted men asked, in a low voice.

“Oh, no,” Martin replied smoothly. “I can handle him just fine from here, thanks.” Kauri pushed himself to the other side and tried, surreptitiously, to open the door and run out into the street. The handle moved - the door did not open.

“Oh, you must think I’m quite stupid,” Martin said pleasantly, settling into the seat, closing his car door. All at once, the last bit of light was gone and they were left in semi-darkness. “No, love, that door won’t open for you.”

Kauri swallowed, trying to soothe his own fear, to figure out what came next. His eyes jumped through the spacious backseat interior - windows tinted so dark he couldn’t see out and no one else could see in, a blacked-out pane of glass between them and the driver up front. Low yellowed lights along the interior roof, the only light to see by. “Wh-why… why me?”

“Two reasons. I don’t mind explaining.” Martin settled back - no seatbelt, Kauri noticed, as he felt the car pull away from the curb, the lurching, sickening resignation that whatever was going to happen to him, it was happening now. “The first is simple - I’ve heard about Box Boys, and I’ve always wondered if the rumors about their… responsiveness… are true. I did not lie to you, Kauri. I’ve seen you for some time, standing at that corner. I knew what you were, and I had you researched, photographed. I saw what I wanted. Now I have it.”

“And… and the second reason?” Kauri’s voice was nearly a whisper.

Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, for a moment deep in thought. “Well. That. I’ve… had some heartbreak recently. They say a rebound is good for soothing such a deep grief… it doesn’t matter. I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell since my heartbreak. That dry spell ends now. Come here.”

Kauri pressed himself even more firmly against the door, as far away as he could get, and slowly shook his head. “I-I don’t want to-… I don’t think-”

Martin sighed, a sound of genuine disappointment. One of his hands dropped to his hip. “You don’t need to think about much at all, now, Kauri. That’s not what you were made for.”

I didn’t have them make you for me so you could think, Kauri.

“I said,” Martin said, in a low, deep voice, “Come here.”

The authority in his tone was overwhelming - it filled the car’s interior, was nearly a pressure that pushed Kauri forward. All his conditioning, his training, the months in the Facility burned in him to obey. He had to dig his fingernails into the soft leather seats to keep himself still. Even so, he slowly leaned forward, just a little.

Just enough.

Too much.

Martin grabbed him by the hair and dragged him the rest of the way across the backseat until Kauri was nearly on his hands and knees, Martin’s hand gripped hard into his hair to hold him still. Kauri went to jerk himself backwards, to pull away, and felt cool metal press, just a little, against his throat.

He went still.

Martin’s breathing had changed - gone heavier, a little ragged. He used the grip in Kauri’s hair to pull his head up, until his mouth pressed lightly - barely a brush, a kiss - against Kauri’s ear. The knife moved, too, the same almost-cutting pressure against the side of his neck.

“Pl-please, please don’t kill me,” Kauri whispered, tears pricking at his eyes. “Please don’t k-kill-”

“And waste such a perfectly formed mouth on such a beautiful body?” Martin chuckled, puffs of air against his earlobe. Kauri felt a warmth suffuse him, unwanted and loathed, the simple sudden heat that began to pool in the core of him. “I would never. Not unless you keep being so… rude. Are you going to be rude, Kauri?”

“N-No, I w-w-won’t, I-… ah!” Martin’s lips had found a spot just below his ear, where his neck and jaw met, and begun to suck, lightly, at the skin there. The warmth in him was a shivery awful pleasure that he - for once - hated.

It was like Owen, and not like him at all.

“God, it’s true what they say… you’re already getting hard for me, aren’t you, darling?” Martin spoke so his lips moved on Kauri’s skin, and he whimpered.

The knife pricked at his skin, just a little, and when he flinched back the hand fisted even more tightly in his hair. Kauri had nowhere to go. “I… I don’t know, Martin,” Kauri whispered, and let Martin pull his head back even further by the grip on his hair. “I don’t know if I am.”

It was a lie. He knew he was, he could feel it, starting to become a weight between his own legs. He was too well trained for anything else.

Martin’s tongue licked at the drop of blood that had welled up from the prick of the knife. He closed his eyes tightly and shivered, wishing that it didn’t feel so good.

“We’ll have to make sure you can really feel it, then, won’t we? So it’s… unmistakable. I’m in the mood for you to call me sir. What do they teach you to say, if your master tells you what to call them?”

Kauri swallowed. “I…” His voice cracked, and Martin chuckled again, dragging him even closer, until he had to move to catch his balance and his hand was pressed into the leather seats between Martin’s legs, his head hovering over his stomach.

Staring directly down at Martin’s belt buckle, at the hint of shadows and shape that told Kauri what would come next.

He wasn’t the only one reacting.

“I am… an active participant in fulfilling my owner’s desires,” Kauri whispered. One of the first things they’d had him memorize, when he was put into training.

“Say it again. Use master instead of owner.”

“I’m… I’m an active participant in fulfilling my m-master’s desires.”

“Are you, now? Perfect. I have so many desires, Kauri… let’s see what you can do to fulfill them… actively.” He pulled Kauri’s head back again, to look him in the eyes in the near-darkness, and watched tears run down Kauri’s cheeks with an intense, focused fascination. The blade in his hand slowly slid down Kauri’s neck until it settled just between the two halves of his collarbone. “How well can you take a knife?”

Kauri’s shivering was suddenly no longer from the unwanted coil of arousal simmering under his skin. In a flash, he felt only a horrible cold. “I-I… I’m not t-trained for pain, sir,” He said softly.

“What a shame.” Martin smiled, in a way that said he did not find it a shame at all. The car moved through the city streets. No one knew him here, and his friends wouldn’t expect much communication for days. The knife slid with a kiss of pain along the neckline of his shirt, and Kauri hissed. He tried once more to pull away, but Martin held him where he was, letting it move with careful, practiced curves. Skin smoothly melting apart, leaving behind the ache and the drops of blood.

“Don’t worry, love. You’ll bleed plenty, for me. I’ll train you myself.” Martin sighed - not quite contentment, it was edged with darker lust. “But I am ever the gentleman, aren’t I? I’ll make sure that eager little body is… well taken of.” He paused, considering. The knife left Kauri’s skin and the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

Then Martin used his grip on Kauri’s hair to push his head lower, and relief was replaced once again by the wash of icy fear.

“For the foreseeable future, love, the only thing that should matter to you - that will matter to you - is how well you are pleasing me.”

“Yes, sir,” Kauri said softly.

He felt… distant from himself, and yet horrifyingly present, all at once. He could feel every shift of cloth against his skin, the low throb of want that had begun to course through him against his will. He could feel the hand gripped in his hair, hear Martin’s breath.

And yet… he felt like there was a fog between himself and wha was happening. Just like he’d been trained. He would be good.

Shadows and shape. He knew how to do this. He had been forced to do this so many times in the Facility it was a muscle memory by now, tongue and lips searching out the right spots… he liked it by now, giving Owen - Jack - Derrick - others - what would make them feel good.

This was no different.

So why was he so scared?

“Then get started,” Martin said quietly. “You might as well familiarize yourself, you and I are going to know each other very well.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ve been watching you for weeks, Kauri, and I have plans for you.”

Kauri carefully lowered his head, his right hand moving to pull down Martin’s zipper, and prayed at least one of those plans involved letting him get out of this alive.

***

Martin Viklund-Reid belongs to @evermetnotforgotten and is used with permission

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kiruuuuu · 5 years

Text

Smoke/Mute oneshot in which, like good Brits, they observe tea time. (Rating Tea, just chaos, ~1.2k words) - written for @nutbrain! 💞

Tension is running high and Mute could probably cut the air surrounding his small team with a knife. They’re closing in on victory but can’t afford to let their attention slip now, one wrong step could mean total failure. Non-verbal communication is key, Nomad conveying so much with a single glance and the rest of their squad wholly in tune with her. Capitão and Ela swerve out, getting ready to flank, glancing back for the signal to strike -

And then Mute’s alarm goes off.

Literally everyone in his vicinity jumps, he hears Frost on the other team utter a quiet curse (giving away her position since it came quite clearly from behind the crates at the end of the room) and Jäger actually loses his footing, while Mute makes no move to suppress the shit-eating grin stealing onto his lips. Not like they can see it under the mask anyway. “Sorry, sorry”, he mutters while pushing a few buttons on his watch, “but this is important. James! James, dear!”

“Yeah?”, comes an echoing shout from behind the wall next to Ela – Smoke could’ve taken her out easily as she didn’t expect him to be crouched in the tiny room, judging by her surprised face.

“It’s tea time!”

“Be right there, luv.” And as if it was nothing, Smoke steps out of his hiding place only to get pelted with chalk rounds immediately, the impact sweeping him off his feet and the loud thud with which he hits the ground having Mute wince in sympathy. “Ow, you tossers, stop, it’s tea time!”

Frost peeks out her head, frowning. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s 4pm”, Mute explains, unperturbed by the flabbergasted faces around him. “Tea time.” He unclasps the Thermos from his side – how nobody noticed it before, he doesn’t know –, walks over to his fallen lover and pours some of the still hot liquid into the lid. “You got the milk?”

“Hold on.” Groaning, Smoke sits up and procures a few travel-sized milk cups as well as a sachet of sugar.

“You’re not putting that in there, I don’t drink it with sugar.”

“But I do, babe. Otherwise it’s just ass flavoured.”

Mute is not going there, he’s not going to stoop so low as to make a comment on this. “Then bring your own bloody mug next time so we don’t have to share.”

“Excuse me”, Nomad addresses the both of them, sounding impressively calm. “What in the everloving fuck are you two doing?”

All she earns is a blinding smile from Mute as he lifts his mask. “Tea time”, he replies and takes a sip.

The next day, it’s close combat training, or, as all but five members of Rainbow call it, Russian roulette. The rules are simple: if you get paired up with a Russian, you automatically lose. Mute hasn’t been able to take a proper breath in about half an hour, courtesy of either landing on the floor or getting jabbed in the solar plexus, and it doesn’t help much that Tachanka hasn’t even broken a sweat. The constant humiliation wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the unbearable taunts on top of the embarrassing display.

“Poor puppy hasn’t found its teeth yet”, the old man exclaims joyously right before nearly dislocating Mute’s shoulder. “All you can do is bark. Yip, yip, yip, all day long, but no bite.”

“I’ll have you know that he puts up more of a fight in the bedroom”, Smoke chimes in conversationally, for which he earns a dark glare and a mumbled: “You’re next, by the way.” And for Mute, watching his boyfriend’s face fall is totally worth eating shit yet again.

“Oh, wait! Sasha, wait.”

The Russian pauses, clearly expecting some sort of trick from the disastrous duo. “What? Did I break someone’s shins again?”

Jesus Christ. Mute takes the opportunity to catch his breath as Smoke retrieves the mugs they hid behind a nearby bench earlier that day in preparation. Mute accepts one of the cold porcelain cups and instinctively blows on it. “No, but it’s tea time. We have to take a break.”

Harry, having overseen the exercise, quickly catches sight of the two Brits just standing around and conversing happily, so he approaches, a frown on his face for which Mute really can’t fault him. “Why did you stop?”

“It’s tea time”, Smoke explains evenly and Tachanka adds: “I’m not hitting anyone with breakables in their hand. Not again.”

Mute takes a sip of the cool liquid. It’s horrendous.

“This has never been a thing”, Harry tries to reason with them. “Why are you making this a thing? Please, just – I heard about your stunt yesterday. I don’t ever want you to drink tea during any kind of practise again, alright? I have no idea what you two are up to, but I want you to stop.”

“Sure”, Mute agrees loftily.

The next day, they’re carefully kept separate around 4pm, not only being assigned to different teams but actually placed in different buildings.

Fortunately, Smoke did remember to bring the super soaker.

Mute can almost feel the disappointment rolling off of Harry as his lover’s voice echoes in the courtyard: “It’s fucking tea time, bitches!” Much to his amusement, he’s not the only one rushing to the window and opening his mouth.

When Sledge returns, the first thing he encounters is a gloomy-looking Thatcher. Of course. There was no way his absence wouldn’t have sparked pure and utter chaos on base, but he really, really doesn’t want to hear it right now. He puts up a hand, shaking his head, and pleads: “In a minute. I’m not ready yet. Let me drink a cuppa first, Mike.” He makes his way through the base, looking forward to the brief moment of respite before having to deal with whatever catastrophe he missed, and the tea bags are gone.

What.

He double checks the shelves. Opens every cupboard he can find, checks the supply room. Nothing.

They’re in bloody England, for heaven’s sake, how could no one -

“That’s actually what I wanted to tell you”, Thatcher informs him drily.

He finds Smoke perched on Mute’s lap like on a throne, both of them radiating unadulterated smugness. They know exactly what they did and why Sledge sought them out, and so hardly any words are necessary.

Still, he has to say it out loud to believe it. “You got bloody tea banned on base because I wouldn’t let you snog in the empty conference room”, he clarifies.

The two of them nod in triumph.

Sledge can already feel the beginning of a headache. He pinches the bridge of his nose and decides to pick his battles. “I’ll talk to Harry”, he concedes and ponders whether he’d get banned if he chucked the two of them out the window when they whoop and high five. “But only if you tell me how in God’s name you turned the pool water into tea without anyone catching you.”

#rainbow six siege #smoke #mute #smoke/mute #fanfic #oneshot #request #I hope you can tell how much fun I had with this one #I also hope you weren't expecting fluff #thank you dear!!#you keep requesting things I love and I adore you for it

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queeniewritesce · 5 years

Text

Shall We Dance 6/?

Lucy lazily opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light feeling the room, streaming from the beautiful arch windows near her side of the bed. Her head throbbed a little, she felt sore in places that hadn’t been used in quite some time, and she admonished herself for not taking some ibuprofen before falling asleep last night.

She tried to move but a firm hand gripped her waist, keeping her in place, digits digging the soft skin of her tummy. She turned her head, carefully to not worsen her headache, and regarded the sleeping man by her side; apparently, they were both stomach sleepers, arms under the pillow type of people and she wondered if that was uncomfortable for him, as he was not lacking on that department. Like, at all. She giggled quietly at her teenager mentality, studying the beautiful profile of Chris’s face, fingers itching to get closer, to lose themselves in the soft fur covering his jaw, trace the fullness of the lips that had driven her crazy the night before.

Ghost memories heated her skin as she slid out of the bed, padding softly to the bathroom, her thighs protesting the burn his beard imposed upon them, the sensation not dissimilar to the friction the pole created when learning a new move, but much more pleasant. She washed her face and used his moisturizer, the mirror showing her the purple marks he left on her neck and the top of her breasts, hair in disarray, and a small grin graced her face. She had been loved hard, and she reveled in every minute of it.

Lucy glanced at Chris’ sleeping form, grabbing his folded sweater and her socks and quietly slipping from the room, Dodger following behind her.

“Morning Dodger,” the stairs were cold on her bare feet as she descended. She makes quick work of his sweater, smelling the collar and folding the cuffs. She pulls on the thick socks while scanning the living room, locating her purse on a side table and to find a hair tie, tying a messy bun on top of her head. She grabbed her phone, opening the small bottle of Advil she always kept with her to grab two pills and walked back to the kitchen, where Dodger sat patiently by the door. “Listen, I’m not too keen on the idea of the alarm going off when I open that door, so I’m really sorry, but there won’t be any visits outside till your dad wakes up, alright?”

She could’ve sworn the dog ruffed before a small whine escaped him. Lucy spotted the treat jar on the island and gave the pooch two small ones as a peace offering. Satisfied, she opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and sat on the same stool she had occupied yesterday, unlocking her phone. She sends Penny a quick message saying she won’t be back till later because Chris is taking her to one of the museums and snorts when her sister’s reply is a bunch of eggplant emojis. Siobhan is next and she asks about Morris, quickly retelling what happens without naming Chris and promising to call soon. There’s a message from JP enquiring if Garret’s plan was to propose on Christmas’ Day, and she thinks it’s odd, ‘why wouldn’t he ask Garret directly instead of asking me?’, she ponders and decides to call her brother later. Her last new message is from Sunny, inviting Lucy to stop by whenever she has the chance. She replies explaining they’ll arrive early on the 23rd, maybe she could have dinner with the family that night.

Opening Instagram, she clicks the plus sign, it’s a habit to always post something about the latest football game she attends; a picture of everyone she’s with, a few words about the game and when the Patriots were involved, a sarcastic remark about Tom Brady. She scrolls through her photos and it suddenly hits her she can’t share the incredible day she had yesterday. Not only all pictures feature Chris, either smiling to the camera or in the background, but he’s also in every quip and every joke she can think of writing. Sure, her account was private, but when was the last time she weeded out her followers? She sighs and closes the app, adding the task to her mental to-do list.

“I was about to file for my missing sweater, but it looks so much better on you than it does on me.” Chris’s voice is right behind her and she jumps a little, but she smiles and spins the stool around to look at him. “Even when paired with those goddamn awful socks.”

“I have cold feet.” Her eyes follow him around and she licks her lips at the sight of the half-naked man turning on the coffee maker, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and she is almost certain that is the only piece of clothing he’s wearing.

“I kinda noticed that.” He pats Dodger on the head before disarming the alarm and opens the kitchen door, a very happy dog now bouncing on the fresh snow outside. “You might want to have that checked, I believe they’ve frozen some time ago and you just haven’t noticed.” Chris grins at her indignant face and she scowls at him, trying to elaborate a good comeback when he invades her personal space. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

He’s pressed right at her side when he speaks those last words, tilting her head back and kissing her soundly, the hands on her neck keeping her in place, and does she really need to breathe because she just wants to kiss him forever. Her whole body awakens, his touch moving like lightning on her skin. Her palms sprawl over his chest, fingers combing the short hairs covering the muscles and she’s delighted at the small moans coming from him. Sadly yes, they do need air to live and so they part, foreheads touching, fingers caressing and smiles on their faces.

“I believe it’ll be, yes.” She eyes him as he draws on her skin, following the pattern of the cherry tree branches on her arm, reaching the last flower perched near her inner elbow and she tenses. As wonderful as he is, they barely know each other, the scars on her forearm and wrists are part of the demons that plague her dreams, ones that she’s not willing to discuss. She feels better when his fingers skip the scars, going straight to her palms and tangle themselves with her own, bringing her hand up to kiss the knuckles.

“How about some breakfast?” He offers while his mouth skims over her hands. “There’s this great place right around the corner that serves breakfast till 3 p.m., we can walk over there and get my car afterward, go to the Museum?”

“Breakfast food for lunch?” her stomach grumbles at the mention of food. “I was gonna make a joke about it being so very un-Hollywood of you, but as you heard it, parts of me are already on board with the plan. But I do need coffee first.”

“As milady wishes.” He goes back to find two cups in the higher cabinet, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and setting it all on the island in front of her before seating by her side, “How are you feeling today?”

“I woke up with a bit of a headache, a little sore too, but I took some Advil when I came down, I’ll be right as new in a few hours.” She rests her chin on her hands watching as he scoots the chair closer to hers, knees touching as he runs slow circles on the small of her back.

“I’m sorry about the soreness baby, but damn, it was a tight fit, I almost blew my load when I first entered you, you felt so good.”

He says it like he’s commenting on the weather, not of giving her the best sex of her life. Her cheeks felt warm; the man had no filter, did he?

“It’s been a while since I last fooled around with anyone, it’s been mostly me and my hand for the past twenty months.” Apparently, she had no qualms talking about it with him either. Lucy felt at easy with Chris, from the first time they looked at each other she felt like a missing piece of herself finally found its way home. How would she keep going after today? She shook her head to clear her head, she wouldn’t think about that now. “And you're going around with a large concealed weapon in those pants. How do you get past TSA with that?”

He laughs with a deep bass guffaw, slapping his knee.

“Wanna give me a pat down, Officer Seabrook?” a waggle of his eyebrows had her chuckling before he got serious. “But almost two years baby, are New Yorkers that blind? You look smoking hot, do not give me that look, ‘cuz you do. I’d be following you around like a lost puppy for that ass alone.”

“There were plenty of opportunities, it’s just… It never felt right, I guess? I…” she stopped, unsure about giving up too much of her past. What was with this guy and the need to know all her secrets? And what was up with her and wanting to tell them all to him, hoping he wouldn’t run away screaming?

“Then I’m extremely glad it felt right yesterday. Because it felt right to me too, the moment you walked into that room? I was a goner. You had me at hello and all that shit.” He grinned at her over his cup, but she could tell his eyes were studying her and at some point, they would come back to this conversation.

“And all that shit uh? You’re such a romantic. Wait, the fact that you even know that the movie is awesome enough. It’s one of my favorites”

“Figures you’d have the hots for Tom Cruise being angsty as fuck” He laughed and batted away the packet of Splenda she threw at him.

“Oh shush, he’s not angsty, he’s had a revelation and it’s acting upon it. Plus, the ‘show me the money scene’ is already movie history.”

Chris lets Dodger back inside before grabbing the coffee pot, and he sits facing, a sheepish grin on his face while he poured himself a cup.

“So, if you had to choose, wine or coffee?” he asks as he prepares his drink; three sugars, a splash of creamer.

“Coffee, no doubts about it. I love wine but by this point in my life, I have coffee running in my veins instead of blood. There’s no way I could give the liquid gold up.” She pours half a cup, skipping the sugar and filling the other half of the cup with the creamer.

“What the hell,” he eyes her cup suspiciously, “that is not coffee baby, that’s an insult to anyone who drinks coffee.”

“Says the person who puts enough sugar in his cup to rotten teeth.” She scoffs before taking a long drink. “Delicious.”

“Oh my god, you’re one of those girls.” Chris grabs his chest, pretending it hurts. “You order a PSL at Starbucks.” He finishes with a low, horrified voice, whipping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Lucy was glad she wasn’t drinking when he finishes because she laughs so hard, she snorts.

“One hot, venti, two-shot, almond milk, no whip pumpkin spice latte. I’m a basic bitch who loves her PSL, so sue me.” She shrugs and brings her cup to her lips, sipping slowly.

“I bet the barista knows your name and draws a smile on the damn cup too.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled over the brim of the cup, giving a little shrug. “I knew it!”

“There’s a store on the same block of my apartment and it’s on the way to the subway, they’ve been there since I moved to New York, of course they know me by name by now.” Pouring more coffee into her mug, she acknowledges, “This is absolutely delicious though, it’s Hawaiian Kona coffee, right?”

“Color me impressed.” Chris grins, nodding his head. “It’s one of the few things I splurge on, I have the company send a few beans bags every month to wherever I am staying. I refuse to drink the goo they serve at most places when I’m doing press for a movie.”

“You’re a coffee diva.” She states, amused by his confession.

“Some people hate green M&Ms, I hate bad coffee.” He concedes laughing. “I even provide the coffee, it’s not like they have to go and buy it, you know? Just follow the instructions or let my assistant make it and I’m a happy guy.”

“What is that like, having an assistant?” Lucy glances at Chris, untrimmed beard, mussed hair, no shirt, ratty sweats and barefoot. Incredibly good looking, but more of guy-next-door than a movie star, she almost forgot he was more than Garret’s hot best friend. Their worlds differed so much, she couldn’t imagine having someone on her beck and call, or worst, a publicist. That gave her pause and she pursed her lips in thought while he responded.

“It’s weird at first, someone controlling your schedule, telling you where you need to be and when. But you get used to it so fast, especially since they seem to know exactly what you need and they deliver it, you know? Almost like a superpower, they learn how to read you and anticipate your moods.” Chris pondered and looked away embarrassed when he continued. “It’s… convenient. If you’re not careful you can get lost inside the Hollywood lifestyle, get jaded by the lights and you end up forgetting who you truly are. It almost happened to me once and I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again. It’s one of the reasons Tobias stays in Los Angeles whenever I’m here, I can take care of myself, I can be Chris.”

His words reassured her, but one question lingered. He was famous, he had an image to protect. As Samuel clearly reminded her, most people only saw her as a glamourized, overweight, stripper. She turns to face him, “Do I have to sign an NDA? Would pictures of the two of us together be bad for you?”

“What, Lucy, NO.” he shakes his head startled. “First of all, NDAs are ridiculous, they rarely work, I know that first hand. Maybe if you’re into some hard kink sex and doing it with random people, then okay, an NDA would be ideal, but I don’t ask people who I sleep with to sign them. And no, a picture of us together wouldn’t be bad for my image, it might stir some pots because some people believe they can dictate who I date…” Shaking his head, he grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together. “I know we’re still getting to know each other but one thing you should know is that I rarely give a fuck to what the media or the general public think of me. I keep my people close to my vest, I don’t talk about friends and girlfriends in interviews, but that’s because it isn’t anybody’s business what I do on my personal time. But I won’t shy away from being around someone I care about either. If a picture leaks or if they follow me when I’m with someone, I set my publicist on their cases because they are assholes, but the one thing I won’t do is to acknowledge their presence or react to them. It’s what they want, and I learned to tune them out.”

“I’m sorry doing what you love comes with so much bullshit involved.” Her thumb rubbed circles on his palm, in a soothing manner, her free hand combing his tousled hair. “Just so you know, if you decide a week from now that maybe I should sign one of those ridiculous things, I’d do it.”

“Thank you. The fact that you offered is enough.” Chris leaned into her hand, almost purring from the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp. He closes his eyes, enjoying the moment and Lucy wants to save this forever, a perfect reminder of their time together.

He tastes of coffee when she kisses him, molding her mouth over his, dragging her lips sweetly across his own. She tastes like cream when his tongue touches hers, light touches that entice her, coaxing her lips to follow his when he retreats, seeking more, needing more.

The whiskers on his face tease her skin when he drags a line from her mouth to her neck, nipping hard at the pulse point, sucking the skin to sooth the bite. She gasps at how pleasurable the tiny amount of pain feels, fingers splashed on his hair, pulling him back till she devours his mouth, taking the lead.

His hands are everywhere, cupping her neck to hold her in place, squeezing the soft flesh of her breasts, gripping her thighs, finally circling her waist to bring her closer to him, hiking up legs over his, making the sweater she’s wearing ride up, his eyes popping when he realizes she’s not wearing anything under it.

“Such a naughty girl you are baby.” Chris murmurs against her mouth with a grin.

“I’m full of surprises.” She pulls the string securing the pants and it pools on the V of his abdomen, his cock springing upwards to rest against his belly. “I see I’m not the only one not wearing underwear.” Fingernails rake on the hard muscles of his abdomen while her teeth do the same to his collarbone, biting his neck. A thumb grazes the silky skin of his head and he twitches underneath her palm, his soft moans delighting her.

Her sweater is halfway up her body now, a large hand cupping the globes of her buttocks, while the other is busy massaging a hard nipple. Ripples of hot lava dances over her with every pass of his finger.

“I love how responsive you are, how you look ready to cum just with me playing with your tits.” Chris lowers his head to take a hard peak in his mouth when Lucy hears the low rumble of his stomach, making her raise an eyebrow at him. He ignores it and shushes her with a kiss, slating his mouth over her giggling lips, bringing her back to the moment.

A second, louder rumble follows. There is a pause and their eyes open, green meeting blue, mouths pressed together turning to grins before they are both laughing.

“I guess I’m hungry.” He remarks.

“When was the last time you ate something?” a hand smooths down her sweater when she stands up.

“I had a pretty nice snack last night.” A wiggle of his brows had her punching him on the shoulder as she narrows her eyes at him, still laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re such a man Christopher.”

“Glad you noticed babe.” He embraces her, kissing her shoulder. “Come on, we can shower together and save time.”

..__..__..__..__..

Showering together did not save time, she remarks when Chris closes the door behind him. It’s almost noon when they finally leave his house, all bundled up, gloved hands clasped together. There was no snow right now, but it’s supposed to start back late afternoon, so the plan was to be back home before that.

Lucy wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. Would he drop her off at Garret’s house after their outing (she didn’t dare call it a date) or would they go back to his place together? Sure, she understood the concept of one-night stands; she’d had her fair share of them but spending the day with one of them was never part of the deal, they had never asked, always leaving her house before the sun was up. In the beginning, she didn’t care about them leaving, her walls kept her safe, away from heartbreak. She had given herself away twice before and she had the scars, emotional and physical, to remind her not try it again.

Being single wasn’t something that bothered Lucy like it had bothered Penny or Siobhan and, unlike her sister and her best friend, she had welcomed it, focusing her energy and passion into dancing. She was proud of what she had accomplished in the last twelve years, the dance studio was thriving, she had made a name of herself and was now giving back to the community as much as she could.

Yet she now yearned for more. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when that happened but somewhere in the last six months the feeling snuck up on her and was now part of her daily routine, accompanying her from dusk to dawn. She pushed it aside, tried to bury it under her work but, no matter how late she stayed in her studio, how hard she danced, how tired she was, the loneliness that greeted her when she arrived home made her ache.

She wanted what JP had with Marianna. She wanted what she saw between Penny and Garret.

She had no idea how to get it.

Her eyes glanced over at the man walking beside her. Chris was funny, charming, interested in what she had to say and what she did for a living. It didn’t hurt the whole package was contained inside a sinful body, and boy, did he know how to use that body. She shook her head. This was a one-time thing, it’s not like he would want to see her again.

“We’re here,” Chris announced with a muffled voice, concealed beneath the heavy scarf covering his mouth, pointing to the red stone building that occupied the corner of the block they just turned. “The food here is amazing, you can’t go wrong with anything really.”

Lucy looks up before they enter and sees a neon sign with Mike’s City Diner written on it. The place had an old school vibe, a red, black and white theme that reminded her of the diner in Cooperstown, the one she went to almost every day after school for milkshakes and grilled cheese, or for family breakfast during the weekend. She’s about to ask if he comes here often when his name is called by a pretty brunette wearing an apron with the diner’s logo on it.

“Hi Chris,” the woman is all teeth and pink lipstick when she winks at him. Lucy tries to not pay attention to the way the hand, not coffee pot squeezes his biceps in hello.

“Hi, Corinne. Is my table occupied?” he questioned, removing his winter gear.

“It is, but the booth next to it is free, if you seat turned to the back wall, I’m sure no one will bother you. We’re past the rush hour anyway.” She grabs a couple of menus from the counter and leads them to the very back of the restaurant, away from the windows. “I’ll bring some fresh coffee for you.”

Chris helps Lucy out of her coat and mentions for her to get in first. He slides next to her and wraps an arm around her back, pulling her closer.

“I take you’re a regular?” She asked while reading over the menu.

“Yeah, I come almost every day when I’m not at my mom’s house. I’m an okay cook, but breakfast food is my favorite and I rather not screw it up.” He nods, not even looking up at the menu. “Very kind people, delicious food, most patrons are either engrossed on their food or too deep in conversation to notice me, which is a plus.”

“I grew up going to a very similar diner back home. My friends and I would spend whole afternoons at Patty’s, doing homework and playing the arcade games he’d kept in the back room. He was the sweetest guy, always looking out for the town’s kids, running fundraisers for a neighbor in need… And the food was so, so good.” Wistful eyes looked around the place, taking in the decor and the warm way the waiters would talk to the customers.

Corinne approached with a smoking pot of coffee, sashaying her mint skirt as she did. She poured Chris’s coffee and points the pot to Lucy in question. “Want some, sugar?”

“Please.”

“Alright, you guys know what you want?” she placed the pot on their table, whisking out a white pad.

Chris signaled Lucy to go first and she orders cinnamon walnut waffles with a side fruit, saying no to the meat.

“I’ll have the Dynamic Duo with bacon and scrambled eggs. And she wants cream, lots of it.” Chris says with a teasing smile.

“I can drink my coffee black, you know?” Lucy huffs after Corinne leaves them alone.

“Yes, but do you like it?” He gives her a pointed look, a lone eyebrow raised at her.

That was so unfair, who could resist that damn eyebrow?

“No,” she answers with a pout.

He laughs and steals a quick kiss. “So, no meat?”

“No meat. I can’t call myself a vegetarian because I love cheese and eggs and still indulge in some seafood, but it’s been almost ten years since I decided to stop eating red meat, eight since I last ate chicken.”

“Impressive. Hemsworth is thinking about adopting a plant-based regimen on our next bulk up. We’ve been discussing it for a while.” He plays with the empty sugar packets, sighing. “I don’t think I could do it.”

“Chris, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t know the guy, but if he’s your friend I’m sure he’ll understand.” Her hand closes around his, giving it a squeeze. “Quitting anything is hard, my friend Terry has been trying to stop drinking soda since I first met him, sometimes he goes months without a single drop, other times he drinks Coke for breakfast, lunch, dinner and midday snacks.”

“Don’t I know it. I’ve quit smoking maybe a dozen times now. But I pick it back up whenever I’m stressed or if I go clubbing a lot.” He picks her hand up, dropping each finger on the table only to do it again. “I stopped after I broke up with my last girlfriend.”

Lucy pursued her lips. She once had called Penny to see how her sister was doing and throughout the conversation, Penny had been curt with her, until Lucy snapped and decided to end the call. That was when Penny apologized and explained she was mad by proxy because Chris’ girlfriend was being a bitch, divulging personal details about their relationship. Lucy didn’t know the actress was, but she instantly disliked the woman.

“Uh, so maybe a good thing come out of that?” her smile was sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Chris gave her a warm smile. “I was single when I met you.”

“And if you weren’t?” it was a serious question disguised within a light smile.

“Here’s the thing, I don’t cheat. I may be a shitty boyfriend at times, especially with all the traveling and time away from each other, but cheating? That is inexcusable.” His eyes were fixed on hers when he continued and the intensity she found in those eyes made her squirm in her seat. “Had I been dating someone I’d have watched you from afar, cursing whatever deity for giving me a glimpse of yourself when they’d know I couldn’t act on it… The truth is I would have left the game. I was drawn to you like a compass needle is drawn to the north and I wanted you. Anything from the moment we said hello would be considered cheating in my book.”

A flustered laugh escaped Lucy’s mouth; she wasn’t expecting any of what he said, admittedly his stand on cheating mirrored hers but the other half of his speech floored her. Never had a man been so candid in his interest towards her and she was at a loss for words.

She was saved by the arrival of a boisterous man who introduced himself to her as Jay, the owner of Mike’s City Diner. He and Chris shared that typical bro hug after he set down the plates.

“I took the liberty of making your waffle with almond milk when Corinne told me you said no meat.” He had an accent she couldn’t place it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you.” She took a bite of the waffle and moaned at the taste, speaking between bites. “This is amazing Jay, best waffle ever.”

“Thank you. I’m happy you like.” He looked between Chris and Lucy. “It is the first time you bring woman with you. Corinne was… disappointed. I can see why she can’t compete with your chosen fire head. Beautiful woman.”

“Keep it up and I’ll tell Janet you’re hitting on my girl.” Chris pointed his forkful of pancakes at Jay, before popping it in his mouth.

“Janet more prettier than Lucy because Janet is my wife.” Jay grinned at them. “I’ll leave you to your food. Wonderful day friends.”

She busied herself with another forkful of waffles and strawberries, trying not to focus too much on Chris calling her his girl.

“Don’t mind Jay, he’s a flirt. Didn’t I tell you the food was good?” Chris drizzled more syrup on his pancakes. “The man is a breakfast food king if I was a billionaire I’d hire him as my personal breakfast chef!”

“But you gotta eat more than just breakfast though. Who would you hire for dinner service?” she dumped most of the cream in her coffee, smirking when Chris cringed.

“Uhm… that’s a tough one.” He stroked his beard in thought. “Either Tyler Florence or Jeff Mauro… I’m going with Jeff Mauro; I love sandwiches and he is the king. What about you?”

“I don’t even need to think about it, it’s all about the good vanilla and the Italian mascarpone! Ina Garten is the Barefoot Contessa for a reason.” She observed.

“Now that would cost you an arm and a leg.” Chris countered. “And if you want Jeff to go make the cheese in a climate-controlled cave in Connecticut, then you’d be bankrupt by the next dinner service.”

“But she told me store bought was fine.”

“Store bought is never fine.” He gasped in mock horror.

Trying to contain her laugh had Lucy wiping away the moisture from the corner of her yes. “I can’t believe you watch Food Network, Chris!”

“Well, there’s just so many times you can play Boggle while on set. Sometimes you just want to watch something to take your mind off things you know?” He pushed his empty plate away, mirth in his voice. “Plus Chopped is psych! Scarlett, Sebastian and I place bets on our favorites. I usually leave a hundred dollars richer by the end of our marathons.”

..__..__..__..__..__

The Museum of Science was somewhat busy for a Monday since most schools in the city were already off for the Holidays, making Chris lower his cap to cover his eyes as they entered the building.

Lucy’s eyes got big when she took in the place. “Oh my god, this is incredible! It’s almost bigger than the Museum of Natural back in New York.”

“I believe New York has more exhibits but we have more square footage or something like that. They grow everything big in Mass.” He winked.

“Don’t I know it?” Lucy waggled her eyebrows, laughing before grabbing the map she had picked up at the entrance. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“I got us tickets to the Lightning! show at two, the Planetarium at three thirty and the butterfly garden at five pm.” Chris held her hand and lead her to the right side of the building while pointing things up in the map she held. “Maybe we could start with the dinos and make our way back to the red wing for the show?”

“Let’s head downstairs and see the Triceratops exhibit then, they are my favorite.”

“So, you like then horny, uh?” Chris whispered in her ear while they descended the escalator.

“Horny and big boned.” She whispered back with a straight face, a sneaky hand landing on the fly of his pants. “Small boners just don’t do it for me.”

A mother cleared her throat behind them just as they reached the lower level, and they moved quickly out of the way, looking sheepishly at the woman giving them a death glare before bursting into giggles.

“You’re such a bad influence on me.” Chris tutted at Lucy, bringing her close to his side and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“ME?” she protested with a laugh. “I was merely stating the fact that I like big dinosaurs, like a triceratops or a brachiosaur.”

“I’ll show you a brachiosaur when we get home.” He winked at her.

“If I recall correctly, your brachiosaur has quite a thick neck. Can I pet it? Maybe kiss it a few times?” She teased him, rubbing his forearm in a suggestive manner.

“Are you trying to make me pop a boner in public woman?” she saw him discreetly adjusting himself. “Come on, let’s see those dinos.”

The exhibit was fantastic, three full skeletons held the main floor, including a small, unhorned hatchling that made Lucy tear up. They admired the displays, taking turns pointing something they liked and debating which dinosaur would in against various superheroes, in the end deciding Hulk would probably join the dinosaur side, just to even things out. When they got to the T-Rex exhibit, Chris joked about this being Dodger’s wet dream and that he the only reason he wouldn’t steal a bone to take home to Dodger was that it wouldn’t fit inside his house, prompting Lucy to ask about it.

“The whole main floor is gorgeous, but I looooove your kitchen, it’s freaking amazing. If I ever move, I want a huge kitchen just like yours!”

“It was the first room I renovate when I bought the house last year.” Chris beamed. “Every detail, from the island to the fixtures have a history or a special meaning. I installed the backsplash myself.”

“Wait, you did it yourself?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed.

“The backsplash yeah, but I’ve had a lot of help from Dix and Garret during the reno. I also stained the hardwood and installed the mantle over the fireplace.” Chris grinned proudly and pulled up his phone, opening the gallery app and showing Lucy the before pictures. “Dix’s a contractor, damn good one too. We hired a design to come up with a general idea of I wanted and went from there. We’ve finished all the main floor, the master bedroom, and bathroom plus the staircase, but the other three bedrooms, the guest bathroom, basement and the backyard are kind of a mess. We only work on the house when I’m not filming, so it’s going slow.”

They walked over to the entrance of the Theater of Electricity as it was almost time for the show to start, and sat on a backless wooden bench, away from the main area, Chris straddling the bench and Lucy facing him, one leg bent over the smooth surface.

“Chris, the fact that you decided to tackle your own renovations when you could just pay someone to do it for you is remarkable. It speaks volumes of what you are as a person and what you want in life. My dad always quotes, we shape our buildings: thereafter, they shape us. You’re turning that place into a reflection of what you want for you and it shows.”

Chris regarded her for a moment, wistful eyes scanning hers.

“My ma’ always told me something similar before I moved to Los Angeles: whatever good things we build, end up building us. I’ve been trying to live by it, surrounding myself with people that want to build each other up, who share their talents with others in the best way they can. It takes a while to weed out the bad, especially in a place that thrives in being fake. There are many good, hard-working people in L.A. but there are at least three times as fakers and clingers who just want to use you. I love my house there, but sometimes it feels less like a home and that’s especially true now that I’ve bought the condo here. Ma’ was ecstatic when I told her I had found a place here, granted she wanted me closer in Sudbury, but I reckon Boston is a heck of a lot closer than Los Angeles. She helped decorate the living room and the big ass island was more of her idea than mine, but in the end, I loved it.”

“She’s got an awesome taste; I have the biggest case of kitchen envy now. I absolutely adore my apartment, it isn’t small by the city standards, but it doesn’t have much kitchen space. It certainly doesn’t have a big ass island, but it’s home.” She shrugged.

“I remember Penny mentioning you guys are from somewhere upstate, when did you move to New York?”

Lucy shifted in her seat. She would not think about him and what made her move back home.

“Late 2002. I had just gotten back from England; I went through a rough patch for a while and I wanted to start fresh some place where I could lose myself and not worry about everyone from the neighbors to the Mayor knowing your name. So as soon as I could I packed again and moved to New York. My father was supportive, but my Mamma was livid, she didn’t speak to me for a whole month.” she saw the confusion on his face. “That might not sound like a lot, but my Mamma is originally from Trento, Italy. She embodies all the stereotypes of an Italian woman you can think of. Not talking to me was maybe harder on her than it was on me!”

“My mother is like a quarter Italian so I can relate a little when she gets going is you better shut up and listen because she means business.” Chris nodded. He looked her over and Lucy had the distinct feeling he was trying to pierce some of her story together. He was much more perceptive than she initially thought, there would be no glossing over details with him. “England, uh? For dancing school?”

“Yeah… I joined when I was sixteen. Did almost six years with the company.”

He looked impressed. “That’s a whole lot of time dancing. What was the school like?”

“Demanding. We had to be the best one hundred percent of the time, you could lose your spot if you ever slacked on grades or on your dancing. I had a private tutor for classes, so I had no free time until I was finished with their version of high school. Then I got promoted to first soloist when I was twenty, so I barely know any touristy spots in London.”

“I keep wondering why you don’t want to tell me that you actually danced for the Royal Ballet of London and not some random school.” Chris gave her a pointed look and Lucy’s eyes widened. “Your sister is your biggest fan you know? She might have mentioned you danced with them once… or twenty times.”

Lucy looked away, her face heating up. Penny had been so supportive back in the day, even at thirteen, she was Lucy’s most supportive family member, encouraging her older sister to apply to the scholarship, staying in during the weekends so they could practice together. The events that preceded her return to the States still stung Penny and Lucy never thought her sister would look over them to hype her up to her friends.

“I don’t know really, I feel like I’m bragging when I mention their name. And some people look at my body and think ‘yeah right’ because a ballerina is supposed to be always this dainty girl and I’m now the opposite of that.” She waved her hand in front of her body. “I got rather crafty with not saying exactly where I studied, they mostly assume it was just a regular dancing school.”

“People are assholes.” He conceded.

The theater doors opened before Chris could comment further and they were ushered inside after handing their tickets to the greeter. They chose a seat near the middle row, moving all the way to the last seats, Chris pulling his cap down and slumping a little in the seat while everyone got seated around them. When the lights diminished, he righted himself up, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair.

Chris brought her arm over her shoulder, drawing her closer. He leaned into her, whispering in her ear. “I’m sure you were the cutest ballerina ever, but I much prefer the upgraded version of you.”

Even if she had any cute comebacks, and she didn’t, lights went up on the stage and the presenter introduced Professor Lightning, who proceeded to show the audience how Tesla coils worked and how to create lightning strikes at the comfort of their own lab. That was the first of the many corny science jokes of the thirty-minute show and Lucy lost herself in it, along with Chris.

..__..__..__..__..

“Maybe they’ll get it ready before we die, can you imagine it? A holiday trip to Mars?” Chris was walking backward while talking to Lucy, hands waving around in excitement, and she thought he looked like a little kid dreaming about what he’d do when he got older. It was the cutest thing.

They had just left the planetarium wing and they decided to head back down to the Starbucks locates at the atrium for some coffee. Chris had fake gagged when she ordered a Caramel Brûlée Latte and she made a show of drinking it slowly, moaning and making faces to get back at him. He ordered three double espressos in a grande cup, making the barista blink and repeat the order back to him.

They were now sitting by one of the many tables overlooking the Charles River, and Chris was dreaming of spending weekends on Mars instead of down in the Bahamas.

“I guess if you had thirty million dollars you could do it.” She agreed just to appease him. She saw his smile get bigger, probably already deciding which investments he’d give up being in that voyage. “You know, for each leg of the trip.”

Chris dropped his shoulder, defeated. “Maybe I could just go to the moon then. A quick getaway to look at Earth from another perspective.”

He looked serious and Lucy had a feeling he was indeed planning for that excursion.

“Would you really do it?” She inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Hell yes, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d crap my pants while going up but man, that would be so fucking cool.”

Lucy watched as Chris got a dreamy look on his face and she contemplated if he would think she was crazy if she got him a Christmas gift. She just had the perfect idea for one.

“Send me a picture when you get there ok? You’d pay to go, I wouldn’t go even if they’d paid me.”

“Is it the heights?”

“Actually no, I love rollercoasters and I’ve bungee-jumped before.”

“You what?!” He stared at her with wide eyes.

“I did yeah! It’s such a cool experience, I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“You better! So, if it isn’t heights, what is it?”

“I’m terrified of enclosed spaces. I can barely make out off an elevator without going into a mini panic attack.” Her body did a quick shake at thought of being inside a spaceship. “It’s not too much of being in a tight space but I need windows and I need to know I can quickly get out of the situation if the need arises. You can’t exactly do that while going to the moon.”

“I can see how that would pose a problem.” Chris nodded and finished his coffee. “How do you cope with flying?”

“I have a prescription for Xanax, but I try to avoid using it. I rely on lots and lots of distraction.” She picked her up her phone, unlocked and pulled up Spotify, showing him a playlist labeled Flying Sucks, and he scrolled through her picks. “I’m so glad I don’t need to turn off our phones anymore, I have my headphones on and music blaring from the moment I step into the plane.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but how does one go from Chopin to Slipknot in two songs?” He turned her phone back to her pointing from Nocturne op. 9 to Duality.

Lucy cocked her head at him, a grin on her face.

“My tastes are very singular,” she whispers trying to contain her laugh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Chris paused for a bit and she saw the moment he got the joke.

“Did you… Did you just quote Fifty Shades Of Grey to me?” Chris was laughing so hard he dropped her phone on the table, his hand automatically landing on his chest. That was the third time she saw him doing that and vowed to try and make him laugh that hard again, it was the most adorable thing.

A few other visitors turned around startled by the sound of his laugh and Lucy shushed him, ineffectively. She saw a teenage girl squinting at Chris, trying to place the man sitting two tables away from her and Lucy immediately got up and stood in front of him, blocking her view.

“Let’s go, doofus, there’s a very curious teen staring at you and I say she’s seconds away from figuring it out who you are.” She gestured with a thumb to the table behind her. Lucy grabbed his hand and pulled him up, Chris lowering his cap while they left the cafeteria area.

“I still can’t believe you quoted that awful movie at me,” Chris said while tossing their cups on a nearby bin.

“And I don’t understand how you know that line at all.” She pointed at him, waggling her finger.

“They uh, may have offered me the role?” Chris glanced sheepishly at her.

“THEY WHAT?” Lucy shrieked and immediately covered her mouth. Chris pulled them into an empty alcove to get away from prying eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling but what?”

“They offered me the role. Twice. The second time they even threw veto power on whom would’ve play Anastacia.” He shook his head. “It was a hard pass from me. The sex scenes in the book were passable, but the plot felt iffy, very constricted and oversimplified.”

“You’re the first guy I know who actually have an opinion about the plot and do not dismiss it as being mommy porn.” Lucy praised him.

“I make a point of having an informed opinion and not rehash what others think.” Chris nodded. “If that means I have to read a book about kinky fuckery, hey, let’s do it!”

Lucy threw her head back with a laugh and they resumed their walk, discussing their favorite books and authors and soon it became very clear they did not share the same interests. Chris tended towards non-fiction, biographies, science and spirituality books while Lucy rarely picked up something that wasn’t about fantasy, especially vampires and wizards. They did agree on Harry Potter and A Brief History Of Time, so they called it a win anyway.

They circled back to the blue wing where the Butterfly Garden was located when a voice over the intercom announced that everyone with tickets for the five pm showing was now welcomed to enter the Garden, and they quickly made their way there.

They started the tour on the opposite side of the entrance, walking around a path brimming with the colorful wings of the kaleidoscope who lived there. Lucy took pictures of her favorites and marveled at how nature worked, turning into what most would consider an ugly nuisance into such an exquisite animal.

The thick, lush foliage extended all the way to the glass ceiling, the various shades of green a great contrast against the gray skies above. Each section of the garden filled with different types of flowers and plants to attract the butterflies, it was a cacophony of plants from all over the world, turning the area into something quite magical in Lucy’s eyes.

Chris stopped here and there to discuss whatever butterfly they could see, Chris pointing what he remembered of his previous visit and telling Lucy anecdotes of his time there with his family.

“Then he convinced Shanna to lick the picture! So she goes up, takes the mounted frame from the wall and low and behold, licked the fucking leaf!” Chris remembered laughing. “Of course, the moment she lifted the frame a silent alarm must’ve sounded somewhere, and two guards appeared out of thin air… and that’s how the Evans Family got banned from the MOS for six months.”

Lucy wheezed as she laughed, trying to control her breathing. “Poor Shanna! You and your brother were not kind with your sisters uh?”

“We’re vicious sometimes.” He agreed. “But we’re also very protective, I got in trouble once because I bit a guy for pushing Carly off the swing set. Granted I was six at the time, but man, I drew blood and everything! Dad had to pay for his hospital visit and I lost dessert rights for a month.”

He pouted, making Lucy giggle.

“Your family sounds amazing Chris! Are you guys doing something special for Christmas?”

“Mom’s hosting a huge party this year, so the whole family will be there. Lots of Evans and Capuanos, plenty of food and booze, games, I live for those parties, they are my favorite, so much love going on. Big breakfast in the morning, let them go crazy opening presents, then we take the kids sledding or to ice skate on a pond nearby and then we all gather to the party. How about you?”

“That sounds lovely. It’s just the immediate family this Christmas for us. Mamma insists on having all her kids there at least every other year, it’s a deal she makes with all in-laws when they become family.” She paused. Lucy was the only one who had never taken a boyfriend to one of their gatherings. She had mastered the art of ignoring the looks of pity her family sent her way every time she arrived alone, dodging questions about her failed love life now second nature. “We don’t have many relatives in America, mamma being Italian and Dad from Scotland, so we kinda created our own family traditions; we decorate cookies on the 24th, mamma chooses the Yule log, and we sit around talking about our year while listening to the Beatles and drinking wine. Then on Christmas Day we go ice skating, hold the ‘Annual Seabrook Snowman Challenge’, which I suck at by the way, and consume way too much wine and crostoli.”

“I love crostoli, my mom never got the recipe right from her grandma so hers it’s not so great… But I’ll deny it to my grave if you ever tell her I said that.” He tapped the end of her nose, making her giggle. “It’s been such a long time since I had them though.”

“Mom makes a ton of them to give the neighbors as gifts, I’ll save you some and send them back with Penny.”

“That’d be awesome, thank you.” He ran a hand through her hair and brought her closer, intending to kiss her. His lips almost touch her when a group of kids no older than six-year-old breezes by them, screaming ewwww and making kissing noises. “I guess you got cooties.”

They giggle and separate, but he clasps her hand while they toured the winding paths.

Walking further into the garden they got to a small section where hundreds of white or blue butterflies floated over the flowers, enjoying a rare ray of sun that filtered from the glass ceiling above. Chris took his phone out from his front pocket and handed it over to Lucy before embracing her, arms closing around her front and pulling her closer, her back molded to his front. She shivered at the full body contact and had trouble opening the camera app. Searching for the best angle, she took a couple of pictures of them surrounded by the clouds of wings, including one where a blue butterfly sat on Chris’ shoulders and Lucy had a surprised look on her face, which quickly become their favorite.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the museum will close in ten minutes.”

The voice over the intercom made them both jump, and Chris looked at the clock.

“Wow, it’s almost six already?” He looked surprised.

“Are you serious?” Lucy couldn’t believe how fast the day had gone by.

Yesterday had been amazing, all the teasing leading to a frenzied and amazing night of sex but if she had to choose her favorite time with Chris had been today. There were no awkward moments, not long silences where they didn’t know what to say to each other. As much as she was pressed not call it a date at the beginning, there was no denying today had been exactly that. And she loved every second of it.

Now came the hard part, letting go of Chris and going back to her own life.

“At least it’s not snowing yet, roads should be clear.” He talked absently. Chris scratched his beard appearing to miles away from the museum already and Lucy tried not to let it bother her.

The escalator had a line and the elevator was for seniors, pregnant women and people in need of assistance, so they took the stairs, keeping closer to the wall as to not draw much attention.

He picked up her left hand, drawing patterns on her palm before twisting their fingers together while they descended the stairs to get to the garage. Lucy noticed how touch drove he had been the entire day, always reaching out to her, holding her hand while they walked, circling her waist while they waited in line for tickets. It occurred to her he would distance himself from her while they were in public and she understood why he would do it but in a deeper level, she was elated when he didn’t. She thought back to that morning’s conversation; I won’t shy away from someone I care about’, and her heart skipped a beat. Could he care about her in a more permanent way than a one-night stand? She shook her head. No, that wasn’t possible, right?

Then how you would explain your own feelings? Her heart had terrible timing, as always. Okay, so maybe today had been better than good. I was a fucking great day okay, could you at least own up to that? And Lucy couldn’t argue because it really had been that.

At least she’d had the memories of their time together, the last thirty hours had been incredible, and she knew a smile would always accompany those memories, no matter what happened from now on.

They got to the garage after a few minutes, people shuffling around them to get to their cars as quickly as possible. They walked fast, not bothering with their coats, just wanting to get inside his car. Lucy was really looking forward to sliding against the heated leather seats.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” Chris exclaimed pulling her along. His wide stride made her almost run after him, air leaving her mouth in smalls white clouds as she breathed out. He hit his key fob a few meters before they reached the car and engine came to life with a hum. He opened the door for her, and she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before getting inside. Chris quickly went around to the driver’s seat and moaned when the heated air hit his skin. “Oh, much better.”

“Do you think Audi would sell me just one of these seats? The heating at the studios sucks, I’d love to have one of these for my office!” She wriggled happily in her seat.

“Or you could buy a proper office chair that does the same thing?” He pointed at her when he got behind the wheel. Soft jazz music filled the air around them when he turned the key, the melodic sound swirling around them.

“Uhm I could, but then I couldn’t tell people how I convinced fucking Audi to make me a custom chair. Now that’s a story.” She chuckled and turned on her seat, facing him.

“So buy a chair, slap an Audi sticker to the back of it and tell the story anyway, how ‘bout that?”

“Uhm… There’s an idea.”

He laughed. “Why are we discussing this particular one anyway?”

“’ Cuz there’s like a hundred cars trying to leave at the same time and we’re stalling?”

“Such a smart girl.” Chris reached over the console and picked up her hand, playing with her rings. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

He nodded and concentrated on the traffic inside the garage, managing to get out and merge into the exit lane, all with one hand, the other still holding hers.

Why in the world did she say she wasn’t hungry when he asked? She wasn’t, that was true, but they could have gone somewhere to just talk, she could have a few more moments with him and now she blew it. God, she was stupid. She thumped her head in the back seat, cursing herself. Was it too late to say something, hey, changed my mind, let’s go grab a pizza or something.

She kept her body turned to him as he drove, a leg bent on the seat, studying his profile, the little bump on his nose, the mole on his left cheek, how his beard was not dark blond but auburn like Penny’s hair. She wanted to commit it all to memory so she could relive it once she got back home. Maybe daydream about not being a fucking coward and ask him to take her back to his place instead of back to Garrets.

They drove in silence for the next ten minutes, the only sounds inside the car coming from the speakers. He pulled to the curb of Garret’s house and Chris killed the engine, turning to Lucy. She felt the intensity of his gaze while she studied his face, waiting for his final words. This was it. He would thank her for a good time, say she was a nice girl and send her away.

Was it even possible to have feelings for someone you’d met in person just the day before? Maybe it was just some leftover infatuation from the night before? Sure, she had heard of him from Garret and Penny, they were practically his personal cheerleader squad, but meeting Chris had been a whole different experience. She couldn’t remember the last time she’s had so much fun with a man. It wasn’t just the sex, which by the way had blown her mind after twenty plus months of celibacy, but how he’d made her feel like the most important person in the world when he talked to her, how he listened with his whole body, really paying attention to what she was talking about. How he laughed at her jokes, cracking up with that adorable and dorkable laugh of his. He had cut through her walls and her fears with his witty banter and a charming personality and she had been impotent to resist him. She liked everything about him. She was falling for the guy.

No.

She had already fallen.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Stupid, silly girl. Why on earth would someone like him ever want more than a one-time thing with the likes of her?

She screamed at that poisonous voice to shut up, she didn’t want to hear it today. She concentrated on the affirmations Doctor Clark had given her.

She was worth it; she was not perfect but every being deserved love.

She was happy with her body; maybe she wasn’t a size four or even a six, but she was stylish, some days she would be so bold as to call herself sexy.

She was a good person; a loving friend, a kind person, a passionate lover,

She was deserving of love.

She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, willing away all bad thoughts, breathing in and out, centering herself.

Maybe not his love, but he had awakened something inside her, if Captain America himself thought she was worthy of his time, that voice surely must be wrong.

“Lucy?”

She opened her eyes and leaned forward, resting her hand on his knee.

“Thank you for an amazing time, Chris. I haven’t had this much fun in quite a few years.”

She kissed his cheek, lingering just one second more. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she moved to open the door.

“What, no, Lucy wait.” He hit the lock button, breathing rapidly. “Just wait, give a man a moment to breathe, will ya’?”

“Chris?” She tilted her head, watching as he took deep breathes, counting on his fingers while murmuring what looked like affirmations, much the same she did earlier.

“Sorry, I had to run a few scenarios in my head. A trick my therapist taught me for when I get anxious.” He explained, tangling the fingers of one of their hands and pulling her to him, kissing her square in the mouth. “None of that cheek kissing thing alright?” he pleaded when he released her.

“Alright?” she had no idea what to answer so she nodded instead.

“Good, good. We had a great day together, didn’t we?” his free hand reached for a stray lock of her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

“I believe I thanked you for it already.” She looked nonplussed at him.

“That you did baby.” He kissed her again, this time biting her lower lip. “What if this wasn’t the end of that time?”

“Chris?”

“What if instead of dropping you here, you get out, get your bags and go home with me?” his clears eyes shone with hope and he licked his lips, waiting.

“You know we leave after lunch, right, I told you that.” Her heart was speeding up and she was sure he could feel her hands getting clammy. Was he really asking her to spend the night again?

“That would give us more,” he checked his watch, “eighteen more hours together.”

“Are you sure Chris? I’m okay with this being the end of our little rendezvous, I really liked the day we had.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

His smile vanished.

“Oh, unless you don’t want to, I can understand that.” He chewed on his lip, defeated.

“Unlock the door, Chris.”

“Okay.” He hit the button and bowed his head. “Can I… can I kiss you goodnight?”

“Yes, you can kiss me goodnight.” She opened the door but didn’t move, waiting for him to look up. “You can kiss me goodnight after I have my wicked way with you after we get back to your place.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I was beating myself up for not saying yes when you asked if I was hungry.”

His face broke up in a huge grin.

“We can eat, then go back home.”

“I just want to spend more time with you, I don’t care what we do.”

His lips were cold when she kissed him, the outside air rapidly entering the car, but neither cared, too lost in each other to bother closing the door.

“I’ll go grab my bags.” She said when they separated.

“Hurry up woman, we have just nineteen hours and fifty-five minutes left.”

She threw her head back and laughed, getting out of the car and running up the stairs.

“Hey Lucy?” he yelled from the lowered window. She turned to him, after knocking on Garret’s door. “I hope you don’t have plans to sleep tonight.”

#Chris Evans Fanfic #Chris Evans Fanfiction #Chris Evans x OFC #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x Curvy OFC #swdfic

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