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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Nude

Run through - Steve wants to try new things so he takes a painting class with a nude painting subject. Only the woman he has to paint are you, Peppers assistant and his crush.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve Rogers was many things. He was an artist, an amateur cook (who really does try), a loyal friend, a good citizen, a soldier. Yet when people looked at him, they only ever saw the captain. His friends called him cap. He'd go weeks without hearing his own name. Sometimes he felt the lines were blurred. When did Steve Rogers end and Captain America begin?

He had a big wake up call when he confronted Tony, saying he wasn’t iron man, it was an alter ego. To which Tony said that Steve was basically captain America. And Steve couldn’t argue or disagree, because it was true. He didn’t want to lose himself in his work anymore than he already had. His therapist told him to make healthy boundaries, which is what he’s going to do.

So he ordered some colors and pencils online and got to work on his art, for the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating and freeing. He could lose himself in it, go on for hours without thinking and seeing anything but the colors and his canvas. Which was extremely rare for him. He could rarely ever shut his brain off or run from his traumatic memories.

Everyone could see the visible change in him. How he seemed happier. Clint even joked about it saying

“Cap must be getting some”

To which Steve only snorted. There was no room for anything as complicated as a relationship or sex in his life, not right now.

But wouldn’t it be nice? To have a woman to hold and to paint. To love and care for. He didn’t let himself delve too much into that fantasy. Because even if it was a nice escape once in a while, he knew that while Steve Rogers might make a good partner, Captain America would certainly not. He would never subject any woman to deal with either of them.

With some encouragement from Sam and his old friends he started attending painting classes at his alma mater, the Brooklyn College, every Saturday evening. It helped him make some friends. He didn’t know if he could call them friends. Most of them were too different from him. They seemed like different types of 'tortured artists'

When he heard that there would be a nude subject to paint the next class, he was a little bit hesitant. Such a thing would’ve been scandalous in the 40s. But he was trying to open himself up and that meant pushing his comfort zone, even just a little bit.

When he set up his canvas, oil colors and brushes that Saturday he expected male subject. He didn’t however expect to hear a woman’s voice. He was too focused on his set up to look up, whatever. He didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. There wouldn't be anything erotic about it. This was strictly professional and educational.

He looked up to take a good look at his subject, when he felt as if his soul was knocked out of him. There you stood, his crush, Pepper Potts' assistant, and the woman who turned him down.

“You know back in my day they used to play elevator music” He said to drown out the awkward silence. Even after all this time, he still didn’t know how to talk to women. He had had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were always so funny and sweet. Asking him and everyone about their day, if they were doing well. Always willing to help others.

When he let it slip that he likes banana bread, you baked him a whole loaf of it, which chocolate chips so ‘so you think of me when you have them. They’re my signature of sorts' you had said proudly. Of course he’d be thinking of you when he ate it. Overthinking actually. Wondering If you like him as he likes you, or if you’re just being your sweet self.

“Oh we still have that!” You chirped “but not in um professional or business buildings like these”

He just nodded. Tapping his foot impatiently. You would get off in just six floors it was now or never. “Hey uh – what are you doing this Friday?” he asked shyly.

“Oh just watching some Gordon Ramsay with my dog probably. I have no life” you laughed at your own self depreciating joke “Why?” you tilted your head.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get dinner? Only if you uh – you wanted to, you're free to say no” he promised. Maybe he should’ve asked you to ‘hang out' or 'for a coffee' like most people these days. But he felt that was no way to treat a lady, especially one like you.

“Oh Steve” he was already disappointed upon hearing your tone “I would’ve loved to. But even though we don’t work together, it wouldn’t look good you know? I mean I don’t care much for 'my image'” You said making air quotes “But I don’t, it’ll be complicated” You looked completely defeated. As if it hurt you to say no more than it hurt him to hear it.

“I completely understand” He nodded “no hard feelings” he gave you a smile as he watched you walk away. It did break his heart a bit, but he’d respect your feelings.

He looked at you taking off your satin robe revealing your bare body to the class of twenty or so artists. His breathe hitched. Your hair flowing down your back and covering a bit of your left breast, your soft stomach and thighs, the patch of soft curls at your core, your nipples hard against the chilly air, and how your stomach rolled a bit as you sat uncomfortably on the stool. You were beautiful. A work of art even. There was absolutely no way he could do you justice. He started drawing an outline on his canvas. You would very well be his best subject.

You looked around a bit, your fingers holding onto the stool for dear life so you could stave off the anxiety and feeling of being so exposed. Then your eyes landed on him. You thought you were dreaming, maybe you didn’t see properly, so you did a double take. Then you were frozen on the spot. There he was, Captain Rogers, the first Avenger, the man you often dreamt about, sitting right in front of you while you were naked as the day you were born.

You had no idea what you should do. This was literally like a nightmare come true. If you flee it would look bad, if you didn’t it might look worse. You decided you’d follow his lead. So you peeked a glance at him from the corner of your eyes and saw him, sketching you? Holy shit Steve Rogers was drawing a nude portrait of you. What has your life become?

You had always been insecure about your body. You knew magazines, porn and movies were meant to feed people lies to get them to buy more things. That didn’t make you feel any less bad about not looking anything like the women in them. You tried to remind yourself that you have many things going for you. Like your supporting family, your loving friends, your cute labrador, your amazing job.

Speaking of your job, exactly why you turned Steve freaking Rogers down! A man that looks like him asking you out and you say no. Your friends flat out laughed in your face at your unfortunate predicament, where the cake is right there but you can't eat it. Now that you thought about it, it was funny.

Your co-workers weren’t kind to you. Even on your best day you didn’t look anything like the women you worked with, who would stab you in the back the first chance the get. You were kind to everyone, but you knew by now not to expect the same treatment back. Which was why you had to say no to the beefy blonde. You didn’t want to be branded as the ‘office slut’.

Which now you were sure you would be. You didn’t know Steve enough to know he’d be willing to keep this a secret. He didn’t seem like someone who would do that to you. But you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

You squirmed and shivered in the chair for a good part of the next two hours. By the end your back was sore and you did everything you could to avoid looking at Steve, only sneaking glances here and there, while he seemed too engrossed in his work.

You had done this a couple of times before, to accept your body for what it is and get comfortable with it. If you weren’t going to love it no one would do it for you. Finally the time was up and the artists were asked to pack up for the day.

You quickly got up from your stool putting the robe back on. You turned your back to Steve, stretching your muscles. You couldn’t wait to lay down on your comfy bed and just get out of here. But you knew you needed to have that inevitable conversation. You probably would never be able to look Steve in the eye after this.

You walked towards him as he was cleaning up his work station. “Fancy seeing you here” You cringed at your embarrassing attempt at a British accent.

“Hey there” He gave you a bashful smile scratching the back of his head “I didn’t expect to see you here”

“Right back at ya” you returned his smile, no longer feeling on edge. It was strange how his presence served to comfort you.

“You do this often” he asked casually. You couldn’t really hear any judgement in his tone, not what you would expect from a hundred year old.

“No not really. It just uh – I’m trying to love myself. Which I already do! Of course” you let out a nervous chuckle “just trying new things and stepping out of my comfort zone”

“That makes two of us” he said as he was done packing his bag, which he was deliberately doing at a slow pace. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Can I... Look at your painting?” You asked nervously. You didn’t know if you wanted to see his interpretation of your naked body, what if it was bad? But what if it was good? What if he was impressed by you...

“Uh it’s not done yet. And frankly I’m not that good”

“I seriously doubt that. I’ve seen the sketches in your office” You caught your slip of tongue. You couldn’t let him know about your borderline unhealthy obsession with him.

“Well, have a look then” he relented showing you his canvas.

You let out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding at the painting. It was breath-taking. The woman looked like you, but why was she so beautiful and graceful? In the painting she was sitting on a stool, like you, in front of a tree admiring a rose in her hand. She was naked as well. It reminded you of classic Greek paintings where women weren’t perfect, but were celebrated for their imperfections.

“It’s amazing Steve. I – do I look like that?” You stammered not being able to tear your eyes off the painting.

He shook his head at your shock “On the contrary you look much better I’m glad you like it”

“You’re a great artist” you gushed

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen much better” he said humbly.

You would argue with him. But you knew it would be of no use. Looking at the beautiful woman in the painting gave you the surge of confidence you needed “Steve, does the offer for that dinner still stand?” You straightened your back looking up to lock eyes with him.

“Yes” He blurted without even thinking “how about tomorrow evening?” He asked.

“Yes that will be awesome! You can pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address“ you said making an mental note to do so.

You could hardly wait for your date. You didn’t really care about what your co-workers would think of you. As long as you were happy their opinions didn’t matter.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or send me an ask!

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

This was actually a request. But I can't fir the life of me find the person who requested it. I hope you see it babes❤

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve x reader #steve Rogers x you #avengers x y/n #avengers x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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riversofmars · 3 years

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Back to Halifax fam! Part three of four. Here comes the angst and a little bit of smut. Enjoy! Rated M (language and sex)

Home Is Not A Place - Part 3: The Mistake

“Caroline…“ Gillian whimpered, her voice far more shaky than Caroline would have expected.

“Yes?“ Caroline hummed against the soft skin at the base of her neck, delighting in the breathless moans and gasps her kisses drew out of her.

“Don’t stop…“ Gillian practically begged, as she arched her body against her.

“How could I…can’t keep my hands off you,“ Caroline growled, tracing lines down her body, to the waistband of her pants.

Gillian bucked her hips to meet her.

Caroline awoke with a start, disoriented, sweaty and frustratingly aroused. As her room slowly came into focus, she realised she had been dreaming. The body pressed to her belonged to her dog Ruth and she rolled away from her.

“For fuck’s sake, Caroline, get your shit together,“ she groaned to herself as she rubbed her face and threw her covers off. She was feeling far too hot, despite the bitter cold outside that the poorly glassed windows barely kept at bay.

Bloody Gillian Greenwood. Caroline stared up at the ceiling, trying to banish the image of Gillian from her mind. Gillian, stripped to her underwear, panting, holding her close… Caroline rubbed her face more firmly, just short of slapping herself. It wasn’t really Gillian’s fault, was it, that she was lying here thinking of her. The sheep farmer was completely oblivious to it, or so Caroline hoped. Gillian would hardly have got soaked in the rain on purpose, just to have an excuse to strip in the lounge, could she? That would imply that she knew of Caroline’s attraction for her. That was highly unlikely, as Caroline had always been careful not to let on too much. It would also imply that she wanted to encourage her for reasons of her own; and there could be no plausible explanation for that.

No, Caroline would have to accept that this was a very one-sided attraction and she would simply have to wait for it to pass.

And yet… Gillian had admitted to having been with a woman before. Why would she do that if not to drop a hint? Caroline implored herself to stop thinking about it. She couldn’t risk how well things were going, it would be ruinous and downright stupid.

No, Caroline would wait for this crush to pass and that was that. But how was she to do that with Gillian right there? Her witty snark, her heart-warming smile, and her great arse? Through no fault of her own, Caroline’s mind conjured up the image of Gillian bending over to rummage through the pile of washing… Caroline pressed her thighs together, her body tense with arousal from the dream she had just woken from.

Was it disrespectful of her to think about Gillian like this? It was becoming clear that she couldn’t stop her thoughts going there. Perhaps, playing it out in her mind would help her get over it, she mused. It would never happen anyway so what was the harm in it? Caroline’s mind was screaming with ludicrous justifications as to why it wasn’t bad to imagine shagging her step sister. The most convincing argument was - of course - that this was the privacy of her own mind. Gillian would never know, and Caroline knew she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep any time soon unless she did something about the state she was in.

Fuck it, she decided, and pushed her hand between her legs. She groaned, frustrated with herself over how wet she was. There was nothing for it, she pushed away her self-consciousness and instead imagined what the sheep farmer could be doing with that talkative mouth of hers. Perhaps she’d be quite eager to please her. She remembered the way she had looked at her during their “thank you“ dinner the other night, reminiscent of a puppy dog looking for praise… A nice way of saying “thank you“ would be on her knees between Caroline’s legs… Caroline bit back a moan as she imagined Gillian’s nails digging into her thighs.

Or maybe, given how headstrong Gillian was, she wouldn’t be submissive at all. Maybe she could have fucked Caroline on that very kitchen table, or the kitchen side, or the sofa, or the bloody wall, any wall, pushing her up against it and Caroline would only be wearing a skirt and…

“Fuck…Gillian…“ Caroline gasped as her fingers did the work she so badly wanted Gillian to do. She wished she could find out what it would be like, really like, to be with Gillian. It was a privilege far too many men had had for Caroline’s taste and she couldn’t believe the injustice of it. She knew she was worth a thousand Robbies, Pauls or Johns. She would not treat her the way they had, she would look after her, care for her, love her…

“You’ve got issues, Caroline, honestly…“ Caroline breathed into the darkness and wiped the sweat off her face.

——

“There you are.“

Gillian looked around when she heard Caroline’s voice. Her face brightened immediately.

“Storm’s cleared,“ she smiled and waved for Caroline to come and sit with her. She was perching on the wall outside the house, looking out onto the fields beyond. The sun was just coming up, it would be a clear day, apart from the fog that was coming up from the damp ground after yesterday’s storm. It was Sunday morning and everywhere around them was quiet still.

“I’m never gonna get used to this view,“ Caroline commented as she came to sit next to Gillian. She hugged her warm mug and pulled her coat tighter around her. It was very chilly, but Gillian didn’t seem to notice. She was drinking her own tea and smiled, looking out into the valley herself.

“Be a shame if you did,“ she chuckled into her drink.

“Is it bad that I’m dreading everyone coming home this afternoon?“ Caroline asked, after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Nah… I’ve been enjoying the peace and quiet too,“ Gillian admitted with a smirk. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts…“

“We’ll have weekends like this more frequently once Ellie and Raff move out properly…“ Caroline mused and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wanted to spend as much time alone with Gillian as she possibly could, but she was worried it would only make ignoring her feelings harder. Particularly when Gillian looked as peaceful and content as she did right now.

“Hm,“ Gillian hummed thoughtfully and Caroline frowned.

“What?“

“I just… I was just thinking, after all this… shit. Eddie and John. My numerous misadventures, Robbie! God, Robbie… and you losing Kate, that… after all this, we do deserve something nice, don’t we,“ Gillian didn’t look at her at first, she looked out into the valley, a soft smile playing on her lips that the morning sun lit beautifully.

“If there is any justice in the universe…“ Caroline mumbled, struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. So utterly at peace and it defied her understanding that she played a part in that.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as settled and… happy… as this…“ Gillian confessed and looked at Caroline with a smile that made the headteacher’s heart nearly jump out of her chest.

“Me neither…“ Caroline admitted and it was true. Not even when she had been happy with John or in the short but lovely time she had had with Kate, had she felt so complete and content. It was that realisation that made her throw caution to the wind. Surely, Gillian wouldn’t be saying these things if there was no deeper meaning behind it all. Maybe she had been dropping hints on purpose all along… Caroline stopped thinking, she just leaned forward and kissed her.

For one beautiful moment, Caroline’s world shrunk to the feeling of Gillian’s soft lips against hers. It felt liberating and right and even better than she had imagined. At least until Gillian pushed her away.

“Caz! What are you…“ The sheep farmer exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. It was like a sobering slap in the face, only, a slap would have probably hurt less.

“I uh- I’m, oh my God, I’m so sorry, Gillian, I just… I got caught up in the moment and…“ Caroline stammered, disoriented, she struggled to grasp what was going on and she cursed herself for her lack of restraint. She had spent all of last night telling herself how she would never ever act on these feelings and here she was, ruining everything! She stared at Gillian who was at a loss for words herself, she had blushed deeply, tensed up, and wild panic was painted all over her face.

“I uh- I’m gonna just… sorry.“ She jumped off the wall and fled, rushing off to God knows where, around the corner of the barn. It took Caroline a good minute until she recovered from her shock and when she did, her emotions broke out of her. She chucked her mug across the yard and broke it on the barn door. That bloody barn. She imagined Eddie watching, laughing at her.

“Fuck,“ she groaned and buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath. “Well done Caroline, really fucking well done, you just had to go and ruin everything, didn’t you…“ She looked out into her valley, her vision blurring with tears. She was not prepared to give up this new found happiness. She would have to find a way of making things right with Gillian. How could she have made such a crude lapse in judgement? Slowly, she slid down the wall and started gathering the broken china of the mug.

——

“You alright mum?“ Raff asked, eyeing his mother across the dinner table. The rest of the family had returned in the afternoon as predicted. First Raff and Ellie with the kids, then Greg had brought round Flora. Now, the kids had gone to bed and the grown-ups were having their tea and discussing how the house hunting was going. At least that’s what Raff and Ellie were trying to do but neither Gillian nor Caroline seemed to really be listening.

“Hm? What?“ Gillian looked up from her plate, confused.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,“ Raff observed, exchanging a glance with his wife,who gave him a shrug.

“Maybe I was just thinking how I’m missing the f-bloody peace and quiet from before you all piled back in 'ere,“ Gillian snarked, far harsher than she probably meant to. Fortunately, they were all used to Gillian’s moods by now so Raff just turned to Caroline:

“Caroline, what’s wrong with me mum?“ He asked, as if she wasn’t even there, in response to which Gillian just chucked her cutlery onto her plate like a stroppy teenager.

“What’s wrong with her? Nothing’s wrong with her. Maybe she’d be better if you weren’t pestering her,“ Caroline’s response was snarky as well, she wanted to be left alone to her own thoughts, as she presumed Gillian did. They hadn’t spoken for most of the day and sitting next to each other at dinner now was harder than she would have imagined.

“Not you too,“ Raff groaned.

“You had a fight or summat?“ Ellie asked, looking between the two women.

“What would we possibly fight about?“ Caroline shot back, twirling her pasta around her fork.

“Would you like a list?" Ellie chuckled and Caroline shot her a look that would have shut up anyone.

“Everything’s perfectly fine, eat your tea,“ the headteacher instructed and Raff was quick to appease:

“It’s lovely, this, Caroline.“

“Thanks love.“ She managed a thin smile as they all returned their attention to their plates.

“I’m not feeling too good, I’m gonna get an early night,“ Gillian announced and got to her feet abruptly. “Can you check in on sheep later, Raff?“

“Sure.“ He nodded quickly and the sheep farmer practically fled the table. There was a moment of tense silence with only Gillian’s footsteps, rushing up the stairs to her bedroom.

“You not gonna go after her?“ Ellie asked once they heard a door slam upstairs.

“Why would I?“ Caroline asked, bewildered at the very suggestion.

“If something’s happened, you’re better off clearing it up sooner rather than later,“ Raff agreed with his wife.

“She doesn’t want me talking to her,“ Caroline huffed, moving her pasta around the plate that she - despite going through some pain to make it - didn’t fancy at all.

“So something did happen!“ Raff exclaimed as if her statement was proof to that effect. “What’s she done? Did one of sheep get into the house again?“

“Nothing happened!“ Caroline shook her head. She wanted to laugh at how he naturally presumed it had been Gillian that was at fault. Nothing could be further from the truth but she couldn’t tell them what had happened. It would only make things worse. The best course of action would be to ignore it had ever happened. “Just give her some space,“ she advised, which was exactly what she planned on doing herself. With any luck, things wouldn’t be as tense tomorrow and they could forget about the whole thing.

——

Caroline was engrossed in a book when Gillian reappeared. Raff and Ellie were watching telly, while Caroline had retreated to the other sofa. For a moment, Gillian lingered at the top of the stairs, probably wondering if she dared be among them again, but as it turned out she had no intention of that anyway. She crossed the living room without a word and headed for the front door.

“Thought she said she were getting an early night…“ Ellie commented when the front door slammed shut.

“Caroline…“ Raff looked over to the headteacher. “If you won’t tell us what happened, can you at least…“ His voice was almost pleading and Caroline couldn’t refuse, not when she knew this was her fault. Perhaps talking it through would help…

“Alright…“ She closed her book, threw the blanket aside and got to her feet.

Caroline wrapped herself up warm and stepped out of the farm house. The night was clear as the day had been and yet, she couldn’t see Gillian anywhere, she seemed to have made good use of her head start. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and made her way down the path. The Landrover was still there so she couldn’t have gone far.

That’s when she heard her, her muffled voice and she spotted the flickering light of a torch in the barn. Reluctantly, self-consciously, Caroline stepped closer.

“I bet you’re fucking loving this, aren’t you.“ It was definitely Gillian’s voice, louder and more pronounced now and Caroline stopped by the door of the barn. It wasn’t entirely shut but it wasn’t open and inviting either. “I could be so happy if it wasn’t for everything you’ve done to me.“ Gillian’s voice was distraught, worked up and angry. Caroline knew who she was talking to. Part of Gillian still believed that Eddie was still, somehow, present in that barn where he had died. And it seemed like she was shouting at him now. “I could be whole and together and worth a bloody damn. You satisfied?“ She was yelling from inside and Caroline couldn’t bring herself to walk in. She didn’t want to intrude, it wouldn’t be fair. She really ought to head back inside, allow Gillian this moment of privacy to work through her feelings. “Even after all this time, I still can’t f-bloody get anything right!“ Her words didn’t quite make sense to Caroline, but she got the gist. “I deserve to be happy, I do! Even after what I did, I deserve to move on. You put me through hell and I came out the other side and I deserve something good to happen and I thought it had and now it’s all fucked up again!“ Caroline’s heart sank when Gillian’s voice broke with sobs. “So congrats, you’ve fucking done it again.“

Caroline didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go in, it was too much, too personal. She felt guilty for even listening in, but the sound of Gillian crying broke her heart. She realised she had messed up big. Gillian had been happy and she had forced her out of her comfort zone to where she didn’t want to go. Of course she would blame Eddie for it, like she did with most things in her life when they went wrong. Like she had blamed the accidents that had happened to Robbie on him too… Caroline knew it was her fault this time though, Eddie was well and truly gone. The only hold he had in this world was the one he still had on Gillian and Caroline cursed him for it. She wished she could just be free of him. She wanted nothing more than for Gillian to be happy, she knew she had to find a way to make things right with her. Ignoring each other as they had done for the most part of the day, just wasn’t an option. She wanted to be content and happy like they had been the past month, she had to find a way of restoring that balance and reassure Gillian she had no expectations of her. She stepped away from the barn, heading back to the house, but it was too late.

“What’re you doing out 'ere?“ Gillian exclaimed and Caroline looked around.

“Just uh… Raff asked me to come look after you…“ she answered slowly, shifting uncomfortably. She should have left sooner.

“Raff can fuck off,“ Gillian huffed, locking the barn door behind her.

“He’s concerned about you, I am too…“ Caroline said slowly as she realised they were heading into a stand off. Gillian kept her distance, crossing her arms as well and staring her down with an uneasy air about her.

“Were you listening?“ Gillian’s voice swung between accusatory, distressed and insecure.

“No, I…“ Caroline broke off because the lie would be so incredibly hard to maintain. How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t know how distressed she was?

“Cause it’s none of your f-flipping business,“ Gillian snapped in an angry outburst that made Caroline flinch and feel all the more guilty.

“I know that…“ she said softly. “I just… are you okay?“ The bright moonlight illuminated the sheep farmer’s face just enough to reveal her damp cheeks and puffy eyes. Gillian must have noticed her staring because the response was quick and harsh:

“Do I fucking look okay to you?“

“No, that’s why…“ Caroline winced, struggling for the right thing to say. It was a minefield, one that she had set up for herself. No matter which way she turned, compassion, remorse, admitting to listening, pretending she didn’t know why she was upset, apologising for a mistake or admitting to the depth of her emotions and motivations… with Gillian every course of action could blow up in her face and make things even worse than they already were.

“Leave me alone, Caroline.“ Gillian seemed to think it best not to give her an opportunity at all. She strutted past her, back towards the farm house.

“Gillian…“ Caroline couldn’t let her go, she had to try something, anything, so she reached out, grabbed her arm to hold her back. Gillian’s reaction was more violent than she could have anticipated.

“Get your hands off me!“ The sheep farmer yelled and ripped her arm away, cradling it against her like she had been burnt, she stared at Caroline with a turmoil of emotions in her expressive eyes. Caroline’s heart sank, she crossed her arms again.

“I’m not gonna do anything, I got the message loud and clear…“ Caroline mumbled, self-consciously.

“Yeah, well- You better not,“ Gillian’s sharp reply drove the matter home and Caroline didn’t look up, not until the sheep farmer had disappeared inside the farm house.

The headteacher turned away and looked out into the valley. She felt numb.

#Last tango in halifax #caroline mckenzie dawson #gillian greenwood #caroline x gillian #gillian/caroline #femslash #angst #rated M #mutual pining #slow burn

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kalle-and-lita · 3 years

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My half of the art trade with @tagedeszorns featuring their OC Doriel. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a joy it was to work with the mun and their muse!

Lita cast a furtive glance down the long halls of the palace. It was so quiet she could hear the beat of her heart thunder in her ears. Perhaps it was because she was leaving work so close to curfew. Only the foolish would dare to walk the empty streets lest they incur the wrath of the Night Haunter.

Maybe it was the fear of her mistress, whose rage was easily incited these days. Several members of the staff had already gone missing. Lita wasn't fool enough to believe they had just left.

Or perhaps, her nervousness was due to the large platter of food she clutched to. Taking food, even uneaten, was akin to stealing from the barons. If she was caught she'd be killed without a second thought.

But she was on a mission, and she would not be deterred. So Lita steeled her nerves and made her escape as quiet as she could. Every step was carefully planned, every corner scrutinized until she was sure she was safe and alone. She didn't breathe easy until she passed through the servants entrance and out onto the streets.

There was the faintest drizzle pouring from the sky. A cacophony of lights twinkled in the perpetual dark, reflecting off dirty glass windows and pools of stagnant water in the broken streets. Above the familiar hum of the city Lita noted the blessed silence. No screaming, no gunfire. Orderly silence since the whispers had begun.

Whispers of a silent stalker in the night. A savior to the weak who suffered beneath the heel of the barons and their crime lords. Night Haunter they called him, and his was a name revered with fear and awe. Rumors persisted of his speed, his ferocity. While she had not seen his handiwork for herself, Lita knew the tales of the flayed criminals he left out as warning. To take caution because if you caught his gaze there would be no one to save you from him.

Lita's reverie was broken by the sound of shoes scuffing cobblestone. Just like the nights before they came out of the shadows like pale little spirits. Four in total with the youngest looking no older than five or six. The oldest approached first, crossing the street once he was sure they were all alone. He was strange for a Nostromon; his hair was the color of a fire blazing away in the adamantium furnaces. Though he still possessed the pallid complexion and the hardened, steel black gaze of his kin.

"Hello," Lita smiled, "I'm glad you boys are safe. I brought the good stuff from the kitchen."

The redhead eyed her sharply, a frown etched into his features. The smaller shadows of his gang pressed at his back threateningly,

"Ah," Lita warned, waving a scolding finger at them, "Unless you want to go back to eating garbage and refuse I suggest you play nice."

"Fuck off." The redhead snapped over his shoulder. His mates backed off, though they still possessed a hungry look in their eyes. Sure that they weren't going to cause trouble, the young boy turned back to her, "What you want for it?"

"We have this conversation every time." She sighed, she popped the lid off one of the bowls of food. A hearty, and savoury aroma filled the air. If the boys looked hungry before they were absolutely ravenous now. "I don't want anything more than the satisfaction of you boys being well fed."

The redhead shot her a venomous glare, "I still say it's bullshit. Ain't nobody that nice."

"So you don't want the food then?" She teased, the younger kids hissed at their leader,

"Shut up, Doriel, before you ruin it!" One hissed. The young boy, Doriel, scowled right back,

"I ain't ruining shit! Look, bitch, just hand over the food and we'll get out of your hair."

Lita chuckled but pointedly ignored Doriel's rather colorful language. The large bowl of stew was all but yanked from her hands and she happily watched as the children ate. More than once the young redheaded boy thumped one of his mates on the shoulder, a silent admonishment for taking more than a fair share.

And they scampered off just as quick as they came with Doriel offering a cursory glance back at her. She nodded a farewell and tossed the now empty bowl, all too eager to navigate the eerie streets of the upper districts. Her feet pounded against hard stone as she ran, a desperate bid to get to the shops before curfew descended upon her.

Luck was not completely on her side tonight, however. Lita cringed as the shop door slammed shut behind her and locked tight. Lights flickered off, leaving her alone on the dark sidewalk. Her gaze flickered to the shadowy corners around her, their long tendrils closing in on her.

She didn't make it a habit to be out past curfew. A nervous tension settled in her belly as she set off for home. Her footsteps echoed loudly, bouncing off the high buildings ominously. Each passing minute was like agony, the eerie silence fraying at her nerves until there was a burning itch between her shoulder blades.

Lita tensed at the feeling.

She was no stranger to this sensation of being watched. Years of service to the barons, and even her years on the streets, had refined her sense of awareness. All the better to know when to run or hide.

But this was not the first night she felt the piercing gaze of the unknown stalker's eyes. For weeks she walked home with the proverbial dagger aimed at her back, ever nervous for an attack that had yet to come.

Lita turned a sharp corner in an effort to evade her stalker. A stupid idea to turn into the pitch black of the alleyway, but she knew it to be a shortcut home and she was desperate. Her heart thundered away in her ears even as her footsteps echoed on the walls. Save for the drizzling of the rain there was nary a sound above the hum of quiet.

Then, just behind her, she heard something hit the ground. If she hadn't been listening so keenly she wouldn't have heard it. Lita froze with a gasp, a chill ran down her spine and the burn in her shoulder blades grew hot. There was a presence at her back, she could feel its hot breath on her neck.

Against her better judgement she turned to look, oh so slowly spinning on her heels. She came face to face with a monstrously large Nostromon man, the pitch black of his eyes drawing her in. His thin strands of black hair stuck to his face, and fell over his shoulders as he sat nearly hunched over her. Lita blinked dumbly, mouth agape in terror.

All at once her sense of self preservation kicked in as a smile crossed his face. A set of wicked sharp teeth gleamed at her and the fear in her gut rose well past the point of control.

So Lita did what any normal person would do and panicked. And in her panic she did the very first thing that sprang to mind, and she threw her grocery bags at him. She didn't bother to stick around to see his reaction. She was far too interested in running as fast her poor legs could carry her.

And she didn't stop running until she was safely back in her apartment. The keys clattered to the floor and her back hit the door. Her lungs burned and her legs gave out, and Lita hit the ground with a hard thud while her mind tried to wrap around what just happened.

He'd been so quiet. That thought scared her more than she cared to admit. How was it possible that someone so large could be so silent?! And she was fairly certain that the only reason she'd known he was there was because he let her see him.

Just who was he? Why was he following her?

Cold realization hit her hard as she came down from her adrenal high. The whispered tales of the few who'd seen the Night Haunter and lived. Of the man draped in shadow and blood, larger than life who took no qualms in spilling the blood of the guilty.

"Oh gods," Lita's hands flew to her mouth, "Oh gods!"

And she had just hit him.

In the face.

With her grocery bags!

She sprang to her feet and ran to check her windows, futile as it seemed. If the Night Haunter wanted to get to her windows were not going to stop him. For the better part of an hour she paced the confines of her apartment, awaiting retribution despite her own perceived innocence. Fixated on the fact that she had thrown her food at the Night Haunter in blind panic.

Lita resented the fact that if she was going to die, she was going to do so hungry.

The burn eventually came back. Fear turned to trepidation as she paused at her living room window. The balcony was empty, wet with the rain. She took a few deep breaths before she opened the sliding glass door. Before she could second guess herself she leaned onto the railing and took another deep breath.

"I'm sorry!" She shouted into the night. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. "I swear I didn't know it was you. I wouldn't have hit you if I had. I'm so sorry!"

A long moment of silence passed until she picked up the sound of something dragging on the roof behind her. She turned her gaze up to find the Night Haunter casually perched on the roof edge, black eyes boring right into her skull. She averted her gaze in embarrassment.

"I am so, so sorry." She repeated, "I wasn't expecting to be followed, and you appearing out of nowhere startled me, and I panicked..."

She was bumbling like an idiot, trapped between him and the railing. But his silence was making her nervous. Lita felt the hot flush warm her face.

Then, something hit the ground. Lita jumped then stooped over to find her grocery bag, albeit missing some of its contents but still intact. She looked up, still under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Uhhm," she stuttered, awkwardly collecting her bag and shuffling towards the door, "Thank you."

He blinked at her, expression neutral even as he watched her slip inside and close the door.

The itch in her shoulder blades didn't cease as she put away her groceries and started dinner. She tried to ignore it for the most part, though she couldn't help but wonder why he was sticking around. Surely there were more interesting things to do than watch her?

She found her way back to the balcony door eventually, after setting her stew to a simmer. The Night Haunter now perched on the railing so he could peer in. She slid open the door to poke her head out.

"Hi." Lita muttered, he blinked again and let the awkward silence stretch out, "Uh, I made food. Did you want some?"

No answer save for his endless staring. Lita swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped back,

"I'll, uh, leave the door open for you then."

She retreated back to the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand. The minutes passed as she slowly stirred the stew, lost in the rhythmic motions. That was until she felt a presence hunched over her shoulder. Lita dared not look up, instead she simply muttered under her breath,

"I think I need to get you a bell."

#art trade #warhammer 30k #konrad curze #lita #warhammer40k #night lord #Doriel #my writing #night haunter

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ddixons-angel · 4 years

Text

Fated: Season 5

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff), implied smut/sex

A/N: And we’re back with another chapter~ this one (to me) is on a bit of the longer side but I really enjoyed writing it ^^ please let me know what you think!

Chapter 10

The next morning, those who were assigned jobs got up early to get ready and head out. Glenn, Tara, and Noah went to meet Aiden, Deanna’s son, Jacob, and their friend Nicholas as part of the supply run team. Maggie went to see Deanna as she was appointed her assistant, Abraham left bright and early to go find Tobin, the man who was in charge of the town’s construction team. Gabriel went to tend to the town’s church and Eugene had become the town’s engineer. Gloria and Rosita step out of the house together and Gloria spots Daryl sitting on the railing of the porch, fixing his crossbow.

“You go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” Gloria tells her with a smile.

“Alright,” Rosita says, smiling back then she goes on her way to the infirmary; she was the other appointed medic from their group.

“You have anything planned for today?” Gloria asks Daryl as she walks up to him.

“Nah,” he says, not looking up at her as he tugs at his crossbow, “I’ll jus’ be here, guardin’ the house ‘r somethin’.”

“You’re not a guard dog, Daryl,” Gloria frowns at his words then sighs when he stays silent, “after my shift at the infirmary, you want to take me outside the walls to go hunting?”

Daryl finally looks at her, his fingers pausing whatever he was doing with the crossbow and a smile tugs at his lips, knowing what she was trying to do, “really?”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile since you took me on a hunting date, what do you say?” Gloria asks, a shy grin on her lips.

“Ya’ll be at the infirmary, righ’?” Daryl asks and Gloria nods, “I’ll pick ya up after yer shift.”

“Pick me up? When did you become a romantic, Mr. Dixon?” Gloria teases as she leans closer to him, gently pressing her lips to his in a tender kiss.

He smiles into the kiss, his hand reaches up and caresses her face when she pulls away, “ya really want me to look forward to this date, don’t ya?”

Gloria blushes slightly at his words and is about to say something else but the door to the house opening catches their attention as Carol steps out. Gloria turns around to greet her but seeing her attire, she gets tongue tied, not knowing what to say. Carol was wearing brown pants held up with a thin belt, her blouse was neatly tucked into her pants and over her blouse she had a lavender blue button up sweater.

“Time to punch the clocks and make the casseroles,” Carol says in a sing-song voice as she adjusts her blouse.

“What?” Daryl says, furrowing his brows looking in Carol’s direction, his face falls to one of shock.

“Make dinner for the older people, moms who need a break, people who can’t cook,” Carol tells them as she looks out into the community, “get to meet a lot of the neighbors that way.”

Daryl scoffs at this and goes back to fidgeting with his crossbow, “a’right.”

“Have you taken a shower yet?” Carol narrows her eyes at him, looking at Gloria when he hums a yes which was obviously a lie, “Gloria, I’m giving you the job to make him take a shower.”

“You make it sound easy,” Gloria chuckles.

“Well, we need to keep up appearances,” Carol says as she begins to make her way down the steps of the porch then looks at Daryl, “even you.”

“Hey, I ain’t startin’ now.” Daryl tells her then nods pointedly to Gloria, “plus, ain’ like she minds.”

Gloria rolls her eyes at Daryl’s words, “I wouldn’t mind it if you were clean either.”

“Hear that?” Carol says, raising her eyebrow at Daryl, “get cleaned up or I’m gonna hose you in your sleep.”

“Ya look ridiculous,” Daryl calls out as Carol walks down the sidewalk.

“I should get going too, I’m already late,” Gloria says, making her way down the steps of the porch, “I’ll see you later.”

Daryl smiles softly at her and nods. He watches her as she makes her way down the road to the infirmary. His smile fades as he sighs, leaning back on the beam connecting the porch to the roof of the house. Daryl wasn’t sure if Gloria was aware, but he felt judgemental eyes on him when she kissed him. He was certain he knew what they were all thinking, ‘why would she choose him?’. Daryl didn’t care what they thought of him, but just because he didn’t care, didn’t mean that he liked being watched and judged all the time.

---

Gloria had met up with Rosita and Denise at the infirmary and they first did some inventory checks to make sure they had enough medical supplies. If they were short on anything, they would make a list and give it to Aiden for things to look out for when they went on runs. While going through the inventory, Gloria’s eyes catch a book sitting on the shelf near the bottles of medicine. She picks it up with a thoughtful look on her face; it was a book all about medicinal herbs.

“Do you guys collect herbs?” Gloria asks Denise, catching Rosita’s attention.

“We’ve been planning to,” Denise says, “Deanna even has a whole garden patch for us to plant the herbs so we don’t have to go out there every time we run out.”

“You guys are resourceful,” Rosita says with an impressed smile, “can we see it?”

“Sure!” Denise says enthusiastically.

She leads the two women outside to the garden just outside the infirmary. Rosita and Gloria walk with Denise as she gestures to it. Gloria and Rosita look at it then frown at each other.

“It’s...empty?” Rosita points out.

“Yeah...” Denise looks down, “like I said... we’ve been planning to collect herbs but... I’m no good out there, Pete doesn’t want to go out there, and Aiden and his group wouldn’t know what to get even with that book.”

“Well, you have us now,” Rosita says, glancing at Gloria then back at Denise with a smile, “we’ll go out and get the herbs.”

“But... I was hoping you could teach me how to stitch and all that...” Denise says hesitantly.

“Rosita and I can take turns,” Gloria suggests, earning a nod from Rosita, “one of us will go out there while the other stays here and teach you what you want to know.”

Denise smiles brightly at the two and is about to express her gratitude when a commotion breaks out near the main gates. All three of them look towards the area and see Glenn and Aiden seemingly about to fight. Gloria frowns at this and curses under her breath as she sees Jacob also part of the crowd surrounding them. Maggie and Deanna also had seen this and started to make their way over. Gloria runs over to the crowd as Aiden swings a punch at Glenn but he nimbly dodges out of the way and Glenn punches Aiden in the face, knocking him to the ground. Daryl, who had also come out because of the ruckus, tackles Nicholas to the ground as he was about to attack Glenn. Gloria finally reaches the crowd and lets out a small growl when she sees Jacob about to approach Glenn. She roughly pulls Jacob back by his arm, he stumbles out of the way as Gloria glares at him.

“Don’t.” she says in a dangerous voice as she points at him.

“Daryl,” Rick says as he pulls Daryl up from on top of Nicholas.

Rick had come back to the community with Carl just in time to see the altercation. Daryl shrugs Rick’s hands off him as he backs away, huffing in anger. Daryl paces back and forth, still eyeing Nicholas like a beast stalking its prey. Rick looks over to Gloria and signals her to take care of Daryl as he tries to diffuse the situation with Deanna. Gloria nods and walks over to Daryl, holding his arm to try and calm him down.

“I want everyone to hear me, okay?” Deanna starts, speaking to everyone and anyone who can hear her, “Rick and his people are part of this community now, in all ways, as equals.”

She pauses for a moment, almost expecting a rebuttal from someone but gets none, “understood?” Deanna says this looking directly at her son.

“Understood.” Aiden says, shrugging as if he was the bigger man.

“All of you, turn in your weapons,” Deanna orders then she gestures to Aiden, Nicholas, and Jacob, “then you three, come talk to me.”

As the crowd disperses, Daryl looks past Gloria as he and Rick make eye contact. The two of them seemingly having a wordless conversation in their minds with each other.

“I told you I had a job for you.” Deanna starts, looking at Rick, “I’d like you to be our constable. That’s what you were, that’s what you are.”

She then looks at Michonne, “and you too. Will you accept?”

A short silence emits between them all as Deanna glances between Rick and Michonne, patiently waiting for their answer. Michonne smiles approvingly at Rick as he chuckles softly, then finally he nods.

“Okay.” Rick says.

“Yeah, I’m in.” Michonne says with a smile.

Daryl scoffs at them as he shrugs off Gloria’s hand on his arm. She watches him worriedly as he angrily huffs away, picking up his crossbow and walks back towards the house. Gloria glances back at Rick, Glenn, and Michonne before chasing after him.

“Daryl!” she calls out as she runs towards him.

He doesn’t stop for her as he continues on his way, he tosses his crossbow onto the porch while he walks up the steps. Gloria sighs as she watches Daryl go back to his usual spot on the porch. She carefully makes her way up the stairs and approaches him.

“Daryl..?” she calls, her voice soft.

“‘M fine!” he huffs, not looking at her.

“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” she says, reaching out to make him face her, “talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Daryl scoffs at her and shrugs her hand off, “ya say tha’ as if ya don’ know! Like ya don’ see how all ‘em pricks look at me like I don’ belong ‘ere!”

“You do belong here, you belong with us!” Gloria’s heart breaks at his words.

“Nah, I shouldn’ be here... not protected by these damn walls, even Deanna can see tha’... why ya think she hasn’t given me a damn job yet?!” Daryl paces around as he angrily vents his feelings, “she coulda put me on that run team wit’ Glenn ‘r construction wit’ Abraham, but nah! She jus’ sees me as a useless fuckin’ redneck...”

“Daryl...” Gloria sighs, she felt guilty that she didn’t know the extent of how much the town’s judgement actually bothered him, “if you want to leave, we’ll leave.”

“Rick ‘an Michonne jus’ signed up for their jobs, they ain’ goin’ nowhere.” Daryl scoffs bitterly.

“Then we’ll go, just the two of us. The others will understand.” Gloria says, sincerity in her voice.

Daryl looks at her, pondering for a moment before shaking his head, “nah... ya’ll be good right here wit’ yer pretty boy ex lookin' over ya...”

“My what?” Gloria frowns at him.

“Jake ‘r whatever the fuck his name is! He yer ex, ain’t he?” Daryl snaps.

Gloria sighs, figuring that Glenn told him about her past with Jacob, “we only went on a few dates, that’s it. It was nothing!”

“Well he sure still seems serious ‘bout ya...” Daryl huffs, “he’s a better fit for ya anyway, a clean ass cop’s the perfect match for a doctor...”

“Just because you think he’s a better match for me, you think I’ll just be with him?” she frowns, hurt and anger building in her heart.

Daryl looks at her, “better ya be with someone like him than a nothin’ like me...”

He knew that he was being irrational with what he was saying, but his jealousy was overriding his wave of emotions. He hated himself for it but he wasn’t able to control it. Daryl was angry and upset at how things had become. He wanted a home for his people, a place they could all feel safe and not worry about food the next day or feel the need to sleep with one eye open. They had finally found it in Alexandria but Daryl felt that the Alexandrians accepted everyone but him. He’d always been an outcast even before the end of the world, but after finding and becoming a family with his own people, he didn’t want to lose that. Daryl was terrified that his people would start to see him the way the Alexandrians saw him. He just wanted his people to be happy, and if he had to withdraw himself and push them all away so they could have that happiness and safety, he would do it no matter how much it hurt him.

The look in Daryl’s eyes gave everything away. How much he was hurting to the point that he wanted to run away from everyone he held dear. Gloria saw that and in an instant her anger dissipated. She couldn’t let him think of himself as nothing, she wouldn’t.

“You’re not nothing,” Gloria says, she carefully takes a step towards him and Daryl watches her as she reaches out and gently caresses his face with her hand, “you can’t be nothing when you’re my everything.”

She pulls him into a deep tender kiss and Daryl melts into her touch. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pours everything into her kiss. She knew that words wouldn’t suffice so she had to show him how much he means to her. Slowly, Daryl began to ease into the kiss, his harsh emotions from before were dissolving with each touch. Unfortunately, his keen senses picked up yet again the feeling of judgemental eyes on the pair causing him to pull away from her.

“People ‘re watchin’...” he mutters, slightly ashamed that he was giving into their stares.

“Then let them watch,” Gloria whispers breathily onto his lips, surprising Daryl as she pecks his lips again, “I gotta let them know that no matter what they think, I’m yours and only yours.”

She captures his lips again in a steamy kiss and runs her hands down his chest. Something inside Daryl changes at her words and he quickly pulls away from the kiss.

“Nah,” he says, earning a worried look from Gloria, “I ain’ lettin’ ‘em see nothin’.”

Daryl grabs Gloria’s wrist and pulls her into the house and to one of the bedrooms on the main floor. He presses his lips to hers once more as he backs her up towards the untouched bed. His lips trail her jaw as he showers her in kisses, earning a few giggles and moans from her. His hands begin to unbutton her blouse that acted as an outer layer and Gloria does the same with his shirt. Once undone, she pushes his shirt and vest off his shoulders altogether just before Daryl strips her of her tank top. She lies back on the bed with Daryl on top of her, her fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses down her neck to her chest.

It had been so long since the two of them were able to be intimate like this with each other. They had their moments back before the prison was attacked but even that felt so long ago, they needed this. Daryl didn’t know it but he needed Gloria to show him just how strongly she felt for him. He felt that his importance and presence within the group was deteriorating every second he was inside the walls and his confidence to be himself was going with it. To know that Gloria was willing to throw away the potential life there, leave with him, and even let him claim her in public proved to him that Daryl is indeed her everything.

“I fuckin’ love ya...” Daryl says breathlessly as he pulls her naked body to his.

Gloria giggles and snuggles into him, “I love you too.”

“‘M sorry... ‘bout earlier...” he says nuzzling into her hair.

“For which part? Pushing me away again? Calling Jake my ex?” Gloria playfully eyes him, making him hide in the crook of her neck, “or not wanting to be affectionate in public?”

She says the last part with a hidden smile and Daryl hears it in her voice as he looks at her with a smirk, “I ain’ lettin’ anyone see ya like this but me.”

Gloria chuckles and moves her body so that her head is resting on his chest, her arm draped around his torso, she lets out a content sigh, “so... when we get our own rooms, I’m guessing this one’s ours?”

Daryl chuckles at her words then presses a kiss to her forehead, “if ya want.”

---

Later that evening, after they had all dined on the dinner Carol had prepared for the entire group, Gloria stands on the porch leaning on the rail with Glenn. She had called him out after their dinner as her curiosity and worry about the dry run was all she could think about.

“What happened out there?” Gloria asks.

“Aiden, Jacob, and Nicholas led the three of us out, told us how their supply runs worked and that they lost three of their people on the last run,” Glenn explains.

“Three?” Gloria frowns at this.

“That’s what they said... Aiden said that it’s because they didn’t listen to his command but honestly, I’m calling bullshit on that.” Glenn sighs.

Gloria chuckles, “don’t let Gena hear you swearing like that, or she’ll give me shit for teaching you bad things.”

“Hey, I’m the older one,” Glenn nudges her with a chuckle.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t teach you bad things,” Gloria grins cheekily at him, making him roll his eyes, “anyway, continue. Them losing people couldn’t be the reason you came back so pissed.”

Glenn sighs and nods, “you’re right, it wasn’t. They found one of the walkers that killed their friend and tied it up.”

“They didn’t kill it?” Gloria asks, a disapproving look on her face.

“That’s what I was thinking... they said that it was some kind of pregame ritual to get their heads on straight, I think they were gonna use it as some kind of shooting practice... but it got loose so they started whistling for it to come out,” Glenn explains.

“They could have gotten you all swarmed if there were more around, what the hell?” Gloria says, anger rising inside her as she takes in how stupid these people actually were.

“Yeah... when it came out, Tara grabbed it and it was about to bite her so I went in and killed it.” Glenn says and scoffs, “then Aiden yells at me as if I did something wrong, as if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

Gloria puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently, “don’t waste your feelings on these idiots, they’ll have to learn the hard way that we’re the smart ones.”

“Yeah but I don’t want the hard way to be losing anyone else, whether it’s us or them.” Glenn says, a frustrated look on his face.

“I know, that’s why you’ll have to lead them to the right path, keep them in check,” Gloria says, patting his arm before leaning on the rail again.

“Don’t think Jacob wants me to keep him in check though,” Glenn chuckles and shakes his head.

“Please, I’m sure you can beat him up now,” Gloria says.

“You know he used to be a cop?” Glenn asks rhetorically.

“Yeah, I know, and apparently you told Daryl too,” she eyes him playfully, “you told him he was my ex?”

“I never said he was your ex, I said you went on a few dates with him and that’s it, I guess he just jumped to that conclusion,” Glenn defends innocently, “how’s Daryl doing though? He didn’t look too happy earlier.”

“He’s fine, just feels a little out of place but he’ll be okay,” Gloria smiles softly.

Glenn nods as he leans back on the railing, looking into the house, he smiles, “well... seems like he’s trying to blend in a bit.”

Gloria furrows her brows at his words, slightly confused. She looks over at Glenn and he nods pointedly into the house. Gloria turns around and sees Daryl through the window. He had actually cleaned himself up. Glenn and Gloria glance at each other and chuckle before going into the house.

“Look who’s finally clean,” Glenn grins as he leans on the kitchen island counter.

“Stop...” Daryl groans, rolling his eyes as he sits on one of the kitchen stools.

Gloria chuckles and sits on the stool beside him, “I’m proud of you.”

Daryl shakes his head to hide under his long hair, his face blushing, “thanks...”

“So how long has it been? Two days? Three days?” Glenn asks, wanting to tease Daryl a little more.

“Jus’ ‘cause you’re her brother don’ mean I won’t hit ya...” Daryl grumbles.

“Relax Daryl, he’s just teasing,” Carol chimes in with a smile, “besides, I’m pretty sure he just wants to know who won the bet.”

“Bet?” Daryl says with a frown, looking from Gloria, Carol, and Glenn, “what bet?”

“How many days it would take until you took a shower,” Carol informs him.

Daryl knew that for the sake of their own entertainment and boredom, their group would make bets and play silly games but he never thought that he would be the centre of their bet. Not that he minded since it was harmless, curiosity was getting the better of him though.

“So who won?” Daryl asks, surprising the three of them.

“Me,” Gloria says with a shy smile.

“Yeah, but for the record, I was going to say three days first,” Glenn says.

“Yeah.... but you didn’t.” Gloria smiles cheekily at him.

“What’d ya win?” Daryl asks, eyeing her curiously.

“First choice on the rooms,” Gloria tells him, making Daryl chuckle with a nod.

Footsteps coming from the stairs took their attention away from each other as Rick made his way down to the main floor. He was in a jacket that replicated that of a police uniform.

“Ya a cop again?” Daryl asks, breaking the silence.

“Just trying it on for size,” Rick says with a sigh then looks at everyone, “I think we can start sleeping in our own rooms, start settling in.”

“I take it we’re staying then,” Carol points out.

“Yeah... yeah we’re staying.” Rick says, finalizing the decision for the entire group.

---

Next Chapter

So with Rick’s decision, they’re staying in Alexandria! I hope I captured the fight scene properly and Daryl’s little breakdown, I honestly didn’t really like how they just left Daryl to go off on his own and cool down, he needed someone to be there with him which is why I had that little intimate scene happen hehehe please let me know what you think!!!

In regards to everything that’s happening though, I really want to say I hope everyone stays safe and healthy, please don’t panic, we will get through this!

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon Fanfic #Daryl Dixon Fanfiction #Daryl Dixon Imagine #Daryl Dixon X OC #Daryl Dixon X Original Character #Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!OC #Daryl Dixon X Glenn Sister!Original Character #TWD #TWD Fanfic #TWD Fanfiction #TWD Imagine #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead Fanfic #The Walking Dead Fanfiction #The Walking Dead Imagine #Glenn Rhee #Glenn Sister!OC #Glenn Sister!Original Character

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crimsonbluemoon · 4 years

Text

Kihorri’s Birthday Present: Daithi De Wildcat

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL

Happy birthday @kihoori !!!! You are the best Owlbun ever and I’m so happy to have you in my life! And since you drew me pictures that made me cry for my birthday, I wrote you a little drabble to get back at you. Won’t make you cry, but it’s a storyline you wanted me to write so I figured I’d spoil it to you and give it to you.

So again, happy birthday, and please enjoy! ^.^

Kihorri’s Birthday Present

Wildcat hadn’t wanted to know his ‘perfect match’. He was in the competition, yeah, but that was because he needed money. Marcel had urged him to enter the competition on a whim; they were looking for single people in the area, and Tyler definitely fit that part (Marcel’s word’s, not his own, and he’d shown his appreciation by throwing a gatorade at his head). Wildcat hadn’t expected a call back, nevermind an actual place on the show. He’d taken the chance, because it was free money and he wasn’t an idiot. So he had to go on weird dates and let a computer calculate his compatibility with a bunch of guys. He could handle that. A plan was formed; he’d come in, watch guys make complete fools of themselves, and then he’d get the cash money at the end. Maybe even get some entertainment out of it.

But when he actually fell in love? Yeah, that wasn’t a part of the plan.

“It’s just a date, Tyler.” Vanoss rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch, which was far too large for just the two of them to share. The living room held all twelve men on the show easily, but most of the other contestants were busy getting drunk or falling in love. While Scotty and Marcel (the first perfect match to be discovered by the group) made out in the kitchen over dinner, Smiity, Craig, and Ohm joked around a game of poker and shots. Wildcat was sure the others were scattered all over the home, but it wasn’t any of the people in the house that was causing his pissed off mood.

“Why the fuck did your boyfriend choose Nogla and Moo for the date? Delirious is a fucking idiot, but even this is beyond his stupidity.” Vanoss flushed and kicked the side of his thigh before slumping back on the couch’s armrest. His hands shoved into the front of the sweatshirt, Evan burying his chin and scowl under the collar of the hoodie. Wildcat knew that technically, Jon and Vanoss hadn’t been paired up yet by Panda’s ‘Computer of truth’, but everyone had all but given up on trying to match with either of them. Vanoss was hopeless, Delirious oblivious, and Wildcat wanted to smash their faces together or drown them (depending on how close he was to the pool at that given moment). Some of the couples in the house were dumb, but these two were hopeless.

“He was put on the spot after he won the challenge; you know Del’s mind ain’t good with quick decisions.” Vanoss defended Delirious, because of course he did. Wildcat made his feelings about the reply known by a snort and a roll of his eyes.

“Moo’s got a better chance finding water in the desert than matching Nogla.”

“You know you keep doing that, right?” Vanoss’s tone changed, and Wildcat arched an eyebrow to dare him to continue. Surprisingly, Evan did, even if he sunk lower on the couch and sigh. “Any time any of us put Nogla on a date, you say they won’t match.”

“What? No I don’t.” The loud groan that came out from Vanoss proved that he felt Tyler’s answer was dumb.

“First time, we sent him out with Lui.”

“Have you seen the height difference? And the chaos is too imbalanced, neither keeps the grounded side of their stupid relationship-”

“Which is probably why the computer said they weren’t a match, and we moved on to Nogla and Brian-”

“Why, because they both speak like dumbasses? Neither one of them has a grip on reality, and they’d be spending their money in Las Vegas before the first date ended. I knew before they even got scanned they weren’t gonna be a match.” His critical assessment got a droll stare from Vanoss, who kept his judgement quiet because of the pizza slice he’d stuffed into his mouth. “Wait, when did you get-”

“And now-” Evan cut in, the cheese and dough muffling the voice. “We picked Moo. Who is well grounded, mature, will help Nogla’s impulsive nature.”

“Brock’s softer than a sneaker full of shit; he’s too kind for him to keep a steady leash on Nogla’s chaotic energy. I’m telling you, Moo is Terroriser’s match and y’all are gonna send Brian to jail for murdering the next guy who takes Brock out.” Tyler hated how little their group gave him credit for his intuition. He wasn’t buying the algorithms and stupid shit their host, Panda, had explained on the first episode. But he could pick up on human nature; Brock and Brian’s chemistry was soft, but powerful, except both men were just too hesitant to get rejected by the other to suggest they go on a date. Plus, they were already on two strikes each; one more strike and they’d be sent home without finding their Mr. Right.

“I think Brian’s waiting to win one of the competitions so he can ask Brock.” It was cute, in a dumb kind of way, that Brian wanted to earn his date with Brock. Wildcat could respect that, in a way. He’d only been on one awkward date with Ohm the first week, which he was sure Smiity chose just to get Tyler back for eating his cheerios. Since then, Wildcat had glared at anyone who even looked his way during the ‘date decision’ part of the show, and his name had been kept off the chopping block.

“Is that why Brian asked your soul-dork to a boxing match? To beat the shit out of the guy who beat him out of sheer luck and sent his lover away for the night?” Because Delirious should not have won their challenge that afternoon; since when did Delirious read? Did he even know how to? He couldn’t figure out the word ‘mountain’ on a good day. Yet he’d aced the trivia quiz about literature, stealing the last three points of the competition out of Brian’s hands when knowing the two men who were sent to kill Hamlet were named Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (even Brock hadn’t know that, and he’s the nerd of all nerds). Vanoss had looked impressed, Terroriser pissed, and Wildcat just wanted to yell at Nogla for not knowing who wrote Harry Potter.

“You know,” Vanoss drawled out slowly, tip-toeing around a subject that Wildcat wasn’t aware of. “Remember how we got split into two teams week three for our date challenge?”

“Yeah, I got stuck with the fucking idiots.” He’d lost, because Scotty couldn’t figure out how to change oil for the car they’d had to tune up for the competition. Where Panda and the producers of the show got the stupid ideas of the challenges, Tyler didn’t want to know.

“Panda spun the wheel for the first half of the date, which landed on Nogla. So we had to choose the other person.”

“I was literally right there, why are you-

“Lui wasn’t the group’s first date choice for Nogla.” Vanoss’s words pushed Wildcat away from the back of the couch, fighting with himself for only a moment before he caved.

“Then why the fuck did you pick him?” Wildcat snapped out, crossing his arms over his chest. Evan took time stretching his arms over his head, before letting them dangle over the armrest his head rested against.

“Why is this my job?” Vanoss gripped into the air, but didn’t give Wildcat time to ask what he meant. “We had to choose Lui because the guy he’s meant to be with had made it quite clear he’s not going on another date.”

“You’re saying… wait.” Dumbfounded, Wildcat sat without words to reply with. Vanoss gave him a few seconds to try and rebuild his brain, then finally pushed to sit cross-legged on the sofa.

“We’re on week six, and you haven’t even stopped to think of why you hate Nogla being on dates with people?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Wildcat answered, uneasy when Vanoss shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

“Or maybe cause he’s your idiot?”

“Wh-what the fuck? Are you stupid? Why would he ever be-”

“Nogla’s on two strikes, too.” The words stalled Tyler’s brain, Vanoss leaning to the side to snag another piece of pizza from the box he’d hidden under the table. “If we test him with Brock, and it’s wrong-”

“It will be wrong.”

“-then he’s gone.” Evan folded the pizza together, but kept his eyes focused on Wildcat. “You okay with that?”

“Course I’m not!” His words came out before he could stop them, and Vanoss nodded like he already knew the answer.

“Wonder why that is.” Both men sat in the silence for different reasons. Evan because his mouth was full of pizza, and Tyler because the bottom was dropping out of his stomach. He couldn’t accept this. Sure, he knew there was a chance, because statistics and algorithms and all of that bullshit. But he’d thought he’d end up with someone softer. Someone who didn’t drive Tyler up the wall with his idiotic nature and weird laugh, his love of dogs and his kind smile whenever he was proud of one of the other guys. Not one who was optimistic about everything in life, made Wildcat’s ragged edges a little smoother, made him wanna just roll his eyes and laugh at all the random thoughts he spouted out at the weirdest time. But he was cute when he got angry at Tyler’s insults and the blush brightened his eyes if he was too tired-

“Oh.” Horror crashed through him, Wildcat slowly rising to his feet. “Oh no.”

“Yup.” Vanoss didn’t even give him the dignity of looking up from his pizza when he finalized Tyler’s mental breakdown.

“Fuck that.” Then Wildcat was gone, his panic pushing him down the stairs of the house. He could hear the cameraman chasing him, trying to keep track of his movements. But Tyler just didn’t care; he needed out of the house.

“Wildcat?” Panda’s voice caught his ear when he pushed out the front door, feet feeling the wet grass because he’d left his shoes in the house.

“Nope.”

“Where are you going?”

“Away.”

“You can’t just leave! Get back here.” The sound of Anthony moving after him made him walk faster, refusing to let his anxiety or feelings catch up with him.

“Nononononono-” Tyler shouted when he was tackled to the ground, his mouth filled with dirt and grass in seconds. He spit it out and flailed his body, trying to buck Panda off his back. But the host held strong as they rolled, garbled shouts and insults thrown back and forth between them. Panda’s elbow met his eye, while his own palm rocked the side of Anthony’s nose. They fought like school kids, Wildcat desperate to get away from the show and Panda refusing to let him budge. In the distance he could hear cheering from his castmates, and he knew Kryoz well enough to assume he was taking bets. If Vanoss didn’t bet on him, he swore to god-

“Woah, woah!” Moo’s voice caught Tyler’s ear, jerking his head up from the grass Panda was pushing it into to look at the new voice. Not because he wanted to see Brock, but because Wildcat knew who he was with.

“Is that Panda? Is the host supposed to fight the contestants?” Nogla glanced between Anthony and Tyler, eyes round with curiosity and excitement. “Is Tyler winning?”

“O-obviously,” Wildcat answered, despite his cheek fully planted into the ground. But he couldn’t really care at the moment; his heart was too busy trying to leap out of his chest to focus. Like a freight train, his emotions finally caught up with his body. Seeing Nogla after Vanoss’s revelation made Tyler realize the idiot wasn’t lying; the tension that’d spun around his spine from the moment Nogla and Moo left on their date finally unraveled. Panda bearing down on his back didn’t affect his breathing anymore; he was able to breathe smooth and easy. The pulse in his neck was going wild, and he’d never felt the desire to kiss and punch someone at the same time so badly.

“Come on, up you go.” Brock helped pull Anthony up with a laugh, finally allowing Wildcat to push up into a seated position. It was second nature to cross his arms and glare at Panda, who showed his maturity by sticking out his tongue. But he looked proud of himself turning to chit chat with the filming the crew, because he had completed his mission. Wildcat was still at the house, stuck with his feelings and emotions and Nogla-

“Aw, jeeze, Tyler. Look at you, buddy.” Nogla’s goofy grin when he crouched down and rubbed his rough palm against Wildcat’s dirty cheek was overwhelming, Tyler frozen in his spot at the touch. Heat rushed his face, fingers twitching in the grass from the urge to touch the beanstalk gazing down at him in obvious amusement. “You’re a mess.”

“Well whose fault is that?” Tyler snapped out, sure his cheek would burn off Nogla’s skin from the heat. Dumb as always, Nogla gave a owlish blink, tilting his head to the side curiously.

“Eh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re my match, you idiot!” His mouth really needed to learn to take a fucking break. His chest heaved from the shout, hating how many eyes and cameras and lights were on them. He wanted to curse himself for making Nogla’s mouth drop open in surprise, proving he hadn’t a clue about their potential match. Which meant the idiot didn’t even see Tyler as a possibility, which was just a kick in the dick-

“Are ya making fun of me because I like you?” The question derailed Wildcat’s thoughts, and he stared at the slight pout that Nogla now wore. “Cause I already told the guys ye wouldn’t want a guy like me, so if this is some sorta bet or something…”

“Since when have you liked me? You never told me shit.” Tyler asked, and Nogla sighed with more annoyance than he should ever be allowed.

“Ya, obviously. Why would I wanna get rejected by my match?”

“Wait, you knew?”

“Yup! First week, it was kind of obvious. I got all these butterflies looking at you, but nobody else. You’re weird and rude, and I like how funny you are when you make fun of the others.” Nogla scratched his temple with his free hand, the other still holding Wildcat’s face. “Don’t like it much when you do it to me, but I think that’s how you flirt so it’s okay cause you do it alot! Made me feel pretty special.”

“Jesus, what is my life?” Tyler’s shoulders deflated, but even with his irritation, he felt his heart lighten. Trying to cover his hint of a smile when noticing the cameras still watching them, Tyler huffed, rolling his eyes. “We’re going into the scan tonight; if we’re a match, the next date is ours.”

“Fuck the rest of us, right?” Brian’s shout from the balcony of the house had the rest of the castmates laughing, and Tyler flipped him off long enough that he knew the editors were going to hate him.

“Yeah! Let’s go on a date.” But when Nogla laughed and dived forward to tackle Tyler (despite Wildcat shouting in protest) onto the grass in a hug, Wildcat forgot the rest of the house. The show, the money, getting revenge of Panda- none of it mattered.

Wildcat hadn’t wanted to find his match, but maybe he was okay that he did.

And there ya go! Thank you very much, let me know what you think, and go say happy birthday to Kihorri! <3

#Daithi De Wildcat #Daithi De Nogla #I Am Wildcat #<3 #Happy birthday Kihorri!#Hope you liked #Probably a mess cause I don't write them often #but you liked them so #Enjoy!

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the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

Care

TV SHOW: WOLF HALL COUPLE: RAFE X READER RATING: SWEET + ADORABLE

I smiled gently humming my little tune as I made dinner in my little house, the cold wind whistling though the house as the rain battered it, the little clink of the water dripping though the roof onto the little pots and pans I had set out to catch it, I looked into the house a moment seeing little Melody sat on the floor in her little dress her brown hair in a little tie to keep it out of her eyes watching the water drip into the pan giggling each time it did, Luna sat at the table hitting her spoon onto the table her dress half on where she had tried to remove it and blue ribbons in her brown hair

"Luna stop that" I told her taking the spoon away from her

"Mama! Mama! I found a rat!" Harry smiled excitedly holding the tale of a dead rat his clothes soaked from the water and his brown hair flat on his head as he ran in though the door

"Harry put that back dear!" I warned him he nodded running back outside to put it back where he found it and coming back in "Go wash your hands before dinner silly boy" I told him and he nodded going over and doing so, "what we're you doing out there harry?"

"I was looking for daddy"

"Well daddy won't be home yet, he's still at work" I laughed using my apron to dry his hair slightly

"But I saw him mama!"

"Did you now? and where did you see daddy?" I laughed returning to fixing dinner

"going towards Mrs Millers house"

"Did you? well maybe it was someone who looked like daddy" I told him "Go on go get your sister for dinner" I told him I sighed a little trying not to show my concern to the children, he was late home. again. I too had seen him going to Mrs Millers just down the street but he assured me every time it was business related, even if I did doubt it. Mrs Miller was beautiful her husband always away, she had no children and had never been pregnant a body as perfect as any maiden. She was younger too, four years younger then I was. I hoped in my heart it was just business even if in some ways I think I knew it wasn't.

"DADDY!" Harry smiled jumping from the table into the arms of his father Luna smiled jumping on her chair and melody giggled opening her arms like she wanted a hug

"Hello kids" He smiled to them putting harry back in his chair leaving the girls with nothing as he often did,

"Hello Arthur" I smiled going and giving his cheek a kiss "dinners almost ready"

"Great" He sighed sitting at the table, I thought little off it he had been less affectionate lately, he had been so busy with work. I gave everyone there dinner sitting at the table helping melody to eat hers inbetween eating my own, Arthur didn't touch his food at all watching harry talk about the rat he found. Once everyone had eaten I gathered up everything and send the children to bed, Arthur sat at the end of the table emotionless and still.

"Something the matter Arthur?" I asked

"I didn't want to do this in front of the children" he sighed

"Do what?"

"Y/n... We both knew this day was coming"

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/n. I'm leaving you"

"Le- Leaving me?" I asked in shock "But... I'm your wife? we have three young children? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Y/n I never loved you." He said standing from his chair as I thought back tears "You where just some slut who let me fuck you, You really think I would have married you if you hadn't got pregnant with Harry!" He yelled "I can't do this y/n. I never wanted kids, I never wanted a family, I never even wanted you. I have to focus on my work."

"And Will Mrs Miller help you do that?"

"You shut your little whore mouth!" he yelled slapping me hard "What happens between me and Erica is none of your business" he warns "I'm leaving. Tonight. and I severally home I don't see you again" he says going towards our room to get his things

"what am I meant to do?"

"I don't know Y/n. I don't care."

"If you don't care about me? then what about our children, Luna, harry, Melody. There your children. do you not care what happens to them?"

"No. I don't, the house is six pounds a week, our food is about two. Get a job" He says putting his bag over his shoulder and going to the door "Goodbye y/n"

"Goodbye Arthur" I answered he nodded and left shutting the door behind him, and in the cripplingly silence I burst into tears.

I stood starting to get used to this job, I found work as a maid and cook for the Cromwell household, I had to pull the children out of school I couldn't afford to keep sending them, my few pounds a week went straight to the land lord even if I had to move the children from our little house to a smaller one in the woods close by the Cromwell house, the rent left me with a few pennies a week for food and clothes, Luckily I can sew and make there clothes last much much longer even if melody's are getting a little ridiculous where she was growing, I was barely eating, Barely sleeping but I had little choice. I hated going anywhere even work I hated, all the men and women looked at me judgementally a single woman my age with three children. They assumed I was a whore. I had even had men come asking but I always turned down even if it broke my heart each time to turn down the coins they would offer me.

I had met few of the people in the household, I had met the other maids and working girls here in the house and I had met the masters nephew Richard as he had been here looking after the household while Cromwell and his ward where away on business. I had heard talk of the ward boy A Master Sadler, The other girls in the house talked about him often when down in the kitchens saying about his age and how he needed to begin his own household.

I knew of what they meant, what they always say about boys that age, that they need to get married, get a house, form there own household as it where. Even if I rather assumed Master Sadler was a little young for that, it as on the younger side I believe from what I had heard anyway. Apparently there was talk of him wedding one of Cromwell's daughters even if she would have made a very young bride for him if he waited for her, but that was before the incident that left this house hold as only men.

I heard the door open as I dusted the mantle seeing three men step in one much older then the other two, Two sweet black greyhounds run in barking at me

"Oi! Come here!" The shorter boy called and the dogs returned to him as he knelt to pet them "Terribly sorry about that Miss"

"It's quiet alright" I nodded returning to my work a moment

"Ohh You must be the new girl," The older man said stepping closer

"Oh, Yes Sir. Y/n Y/l/n. I Take it you are master Cromwell?"

"You assume correctly young lady, But you needn't sir to me" He says "Those jumpy pumps belong to my son Gregory"

"Pleasure to meet you" I said to him

"The same to you miss" Gregory smiled still playing with his dogs

"And My Ward, Rafe Sadler" he said indicating to the taller blonde boy

"Ohh Yes, Nice to meet you Master sadler" I blushed a little he not what I expected trying not to give away the things I already knew about him from the ladies in the kitchens.

"The Pleasure is all Mine Miss y/l/n" He smiled to me giving my hand a little kiss making me blush much harder.

I stood in the kitchens looking at the vast buffet of food we had prepared for a visit tonight but as I was cooking I couldn't help it I was so hungry, I hadn't had eaten anything at all in over a week, anything I had bought I had given to the children, so I was staving, I picked up something and quickly ate it I didn't care what It was or how it tasted I was just so hungry.

"what are you up to Miss y/l/n?" Rafe asked at the door

"Ohh uhh nothing Master Sadler" I blushed trying not to reveal what I just did even if I could tell he saw me

"Are you hungry?" he asked and I nodded "Miss y/l/n... Have you been taking food because your hungry?"

"Yes sir" I said sadly realizing I was going to loose my job

"Here, when your done with your work take this and take home whatever you need y/n" he say's giving me a fabric bag

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry about it, any one says anything you send them to me alright? take home what you need" He says kissing my hand

I hurried though the house getting my work done heading into the office to clean and tidy, but as I did I saw the desk had a person sat at it, Master Sadler sat doing paperwork. He was the only one home at the moment as Cromwell and Gregory had headed out somewhere and Richard was off courting some young thing in town.

"Ohh Sorry, Do excuse me Master Sadler" I blushed going to leave

"It's alright, Come in you won't disturb me" he says so I nodded coming in and beginning to clean sweeping and dusting the room and its furnishings "I'm bored"

"I'm sorry Master?"

"I'm bored. Tell me a story"

"A story?" I laughed

"Come on you have to know something interesting to tell me?"

"Ohh Well, Harry found an owl yesterday, he seems to want to keep it as a pet, He likes that it coughs up mice skulls" I explained

"Who's harry?" He asked

"Ohh sorry, My eldest. My son" I explain

"Son? You have children?" He asked seeming confused

"I do Master Sadler."

"You can't I don't believe it" He laughs "You can't have children you can't be much older then me?"

"I am, Quiet a bit in fact" I smiled

"You don't look it," he says "You don't look a day over nineteen if I may say so"

"Aww well thank you very much master sadler"

"Just call me rafe, so long as I can call you y/n?"

"You can call me y/n but I'd rather master sadler if its all the same to you sir"

"How many children do you have?"

"Three, Harry's my eldest he's almost seven. Luna she's my second she's almost five and Melody my youngest she's almost two" I explained

"Even so... You must have, Had them young?"

"I did"

"Your husband is he..."

"I uhh don't have a husband" I interrupted "Anymore"

"Ohh I'm sorry. did he?"

"No, He's fine. Remarried" I explained trying not to cry

"Ooh y/n, I'm sorry" he says getting up and coming over "Forgive me, I didn't know"

"It's alright" I answered as his hand came and wiped a tear from my cheek

"How long has it just been you and your children?"

"About a year now"

"How on earth have you survived?"

"Being careful I suppose, I took them out of school. that helped, Schools expensive"

"Wait, when your here? who takes care of your children?"

"I trust them to... look after themselves. My neighbour Mrs Mandal keeps and eye on them for me"

"Y/n, next week bring your children"

"But-"

"Leave it to me alright," He reassures "Just bring them with you,"

"yes sir" I nodded.

I was worried, scared of what the other ladies would think of me but I did as he asked and brought the children to work with me, the moment I got in the door I knew this was a bad idea. as Melody began crying and harry running around Luna clutched to my skirt. "Ohh so these are the little devils I've heard so much about" Rafe laughed as he came down the stairs I glared at harry and he came over

"Hello sir" He said to Rafe

"You must be harry. I've heard a lot about you" he laughs going to his level "How's your owl?"

"Hooty"

"Yes, Hooty, How is she?"

"she brings me skulls"

"Right... Yes." Rafe nodded a little shocked "Ohh you must be Luna then" He smiled trying to see luna but she simply hid herself away behind my dress "Aww a shy little lady? Hey, I have something for you" He smiled to her making her peak out a little "I got you a little daisy," he smiled getting a little daisy flower from his pocket "Would you like it?" she poked her head around me more moving closer to him he offered his hand and she slowly took it "There, a pretty flower for a pretty little girl" he smiled to her putting the flower in her hair making her smile a little, he stood and came to me "And this must be Meleny?" He asked

"Melody"

"Ohh right Melody, My apologies young lady" He smiled to her making her giggle a little "Now, your mummy needs to get to work. But who want's to go play?" He asked them and harry and Luna smiled running off

"I'm not sure about this rafe" I told him

"I admit I'm not the best with kids, But I have paperwork and letters to do upstairs so, I'll keep them with me and I'll look after them for you"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. we're just upstairs if you miss them. Or if you wanna check up on me" He laughs

"alright" I smiled "Luna, Harry come on upstairs" I told them carrying melody up with me to the office "Now, all of you have to be on your best behaviour, this is mummy's work and its very important, Now master Sadler is going to keep an eye on you, Please don't be mean to him" I explain to them "And don't mess with the papers alright" I warn them and harry nodded, Luna sitting on the floor so I sat melody with her

"I'm sure they'll be fine" Rafe smiled shutting the door behind him

"Alright, if you need anything or there any trouble-" I began

"Y/n your only downstairs, We'll be fine" He reassured giving my cheek a little kiss making me blush bright red as I hurried off to work.

I finished all my work and went upstairs, I hadn't heard a word from upstairs so I went into the office seeing Luna sat on a chair the other side of the desk, Rafe sat in the usual chair at the desk, Melody sat on the desk, Harry doing some reading "Hey? it's You're mummy"

"Mama!" Harry smiled coming over to me holding my hand and giving it a kiss like a gentleman "Master Sadler taught me that" he smiled

"Did he now?" I smiled fixing Harrys hair a little "How where they?" I asked

"Perfect, they where perfect. Barely heard a peep out of them" He explained "And I taught him a couple of little things," he explained "Luna doesn't talk much does she?"

"No, she's a quiet little one" I smiled going over giving her head a kiss "How was the baby?"

"fine she at here with me, and she helped me with my paperwork" He smiled "she likes the wax sealer don't you?" He smiled to her and she clapped her hands "Yeah clap clap melody" He smiled to her

"Awww, thank you so much Rafe, you really didn't have to take care of my children"

"well I like taking care of them. I'm happy to look after them whenever you need them looking after y/n"

"Thank you Rafe" I blushed picking up melody "Come on kids lets get home" I told them so Luna got up giving rafe a hug before she ran hiding behind my dress and harry came over smiling at me

"Mama? Can we come play with master Sadler again?" he asked

"Well if its okay" I smiled

"It's fine, you guys can come play whenever you like" He told them

"Thank you again" I smiled

"Your welcome y/n" He smiled giving my cheek another sweet kiss so I took the kids home getting them sorted for dinner

"Mama?" Harry asks

"What is it harry?

"Can master Sadler be our new daddy?"

"We'll see kiddo" I laughed "Go on have dinner"

I stood finishing up dinner, going to the table to set the dishes and cutlery up "Luna darling books away its dinner time" I told her she nodded putting her books back into her bedroom, melody sitting on the floor playing with her dollies "Harry?" I called into the house and soon enough he ran down the stairs

"Hello mummy, Is it dinner time?" he asked his hands behind his back

"It is, go on get up the table" I told him he went over to the table but as he did the door opened

"Daddy!" Harry smiled running to the door and hugging rafe's leg

"whoa! Hey kiddo!" Rafe laughed giving him a hug too, "You finished your homework?"

"All done" He smiled

"Good boy, go on get up the table for your dinner" Rafe told him pushing him to the table "Hello darling," he smiled as Luna hurried back and gave him a hug too "How was school?" she smiled whispering to him and he smiled fixing her hair "Good girl" He told her pushing her back to the table "awww, where's my little girly?" He asked coming and picking melody up

"Daddy!" she giggled "Look daddy look, I made her a new dress"

"Awww its lovely melody dolly has a beautiful dress" He smiled putting her in her seat at the table "Hello darling" He smiled coming and giving me a cuddle "Are you okay?" He asked putting his hand on my babybump

"Fine Rafe, I'm perfect" I smiled giving him a cuddle

"Alright darling" He smiled giving me a sweet kiss "Come on wifey. Dinner time" He says tugging me towards the table.

#TBS #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #thomassangster #thomasbrodiesangster #rafe fic #rafe sadler #rafe #rafe imagine #Wolf Hall #wolf hall fanfic #bbc wolf hall

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calumance · 4 years

Text

Valentine’s Day

Listen, I got zero things for Valentine’s Day yesterday. So here’s a little something I thought about ALL day yesterday. 😊

*********

The alarm makes a horrible buzzing noise that jolts me awake. Through squinted eyes I look at the time. It’s takes a moment for my eyes to adjust before I can see that the clock says five. I cover my head with the blanket and groan. It’s still dark outside, and I still have to get up? This is just dumb. I throw the blanket off me and shut off the alarm still ringing through my ears. Before I trap myself by getting back in bed, I open the bedroom door and head straight for the bathroom. The bathroom light burns my eyes, so I keep them shut long enough for my eyes to adjust. Showers are the easiest way to wake myself up this early on a Friday. I find my balance after taking my pajamas off and hop in the shower.

It’s fucking Valentine’s Day, I think to myself as I dry my face off with my towel. I hate this day, a day made up just so Hallmark can make some money after the holidays. I mean, sure, the boyfriend made us reservations tonight, but the restaurant is going to be packed, I still have to work all day, and have to listen how sappy everyone else’s significant other is while I work. A groan escapes my chest as I pull out the clothes I am wearing to work today and dress myself before walking to the next room to dry my hair and put on some make up.

It snowed a couple of days ago, so traffic is terrible. It’s always terrible, though, it’s just extra terrible because of the ice the snow left behind. I turn up my radio so that something keeps my mind off the stop and go movement of the car. The song that comes on sounds familiar, and even after a couple years, it’s still weird to hear your boyfriends voice on the radio. I turn it up a little bit more and grab my phone to see if he’s texted. Nothing. The phone finds its home back on the passenger seat as I look back through the windshield.

Most days it takes me twenty-five minutes to get to work, today it took me forty. I walk as quickly as possible into the office knowing that I am over fifteen minutes late. I get to my desk and greet everyone who is there already. I pull my jacket off and set it on the back of my chair as I get prepared to complete my to-do list before the weekend. As my work computer starts up I plug my headphones into my phone and put one earbud in. I open my email and groan at the amount of emails I have to respond to. After a deep breath, I get to work.

As each of my co-workers trickle in, they talk about where they’re going for dinner, or what they got, I just check my phone in silence and continue to concentrate on my work. Just as I go to put my other earbud in my ear, I hear someone say my name. I turn towards the voice and hum in response, “is Calum in town this year for Valentine’s Day?

I think about shrugging and acting like I don’t know since I hate people at work knowing my personal business, I go against my better judgement, “Yeah, he is.” I smile a sheepish smile, and nod.

“That’s great! Are you two doing anything special?” My boss asks responding to my answer.

I sigh again, not in annoyance, just because I hate Valentine’s day. Not sure how clearer I could make that. “He made reservations at a restaurant downtown somewhere, I’m pretty sure that’s it.” I’m such an awkward conversation holder that my boss leaves it at that.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my boyfriend with all of my heart, I just don’t think our love life is anyone business. I’ve grown to act like that all the time knowing that at any minute someone can sell that the press and I can see it on all over the internet the next day. I turn back to my computer and my other earbud in and continue cleaning the report I have to turn in by the end of the day.

My phone chimes a short chime interrupting my music. I sit back and look at the small screen to see a message from Calum. I unlock my phone and read it to myself, “Good morning, darling, sorry I didn’t text you earlier. It was a late night at the studio, I’m just so tired. How is work going?”

I put my pen down to text him back, “It’s fine, I have a bunch of stuff that I have to turn in before I leave, so I’m just trying to get everything done. Sorry to hear about your late night, can’t wait to see you late.” I lock my phone and continue to stare at the papers that have accumulated all over my desk.

My eyes focus on a paper that looks a bit weird as I notice a figure coming up the stairs directly in front of my desk. My eyes flicker over the top of the paper, not expecting to see my boyfriend standing there. I put the paper down and pull my earbuds out, “Calum?” I notice all the girls I work with poking their heads out of their cubicles. I study him for a second, still surprised he’s here. He lifts his right hand a few inches to wave at me, a closed lip smile stretched across his face. He has flowers and a stuffed dog in his left hand. He has dark circles under his eyes showing the exhaustion from writing a new album. I stand up and walk around my desk to meet him on the other side.

“I wanted to surprise you since I know you have been working really hard this week, so I woke up and went and got you some flowers and a stuffed puppy that reminded me of the dog you had when you were little.” He shakes the puppies head and I smile. God damn, Calum is cute.

“Thanks, babe.” I take the puppy out of his hands and set it on my desk. “Let’s go find a vase for these flowers.” I take the flowers out of his hand and walk around him into the break room. I start opening cabinets to find a vase.

I hear Calum clear his throat and I turn towards him. “I wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately.” He says with an obvious dry throat.

I swallow hard remembering the fight we had a few nights ago. I had told him I felt selfish and that I didn’t mean anything I said to him. “I told you that we were okay, Calum. I was selfish to tell you that you were being distant, I mean you’re in the middle of writing an album, I shouldn’t have said any of those things.”

He shakes his head and me and puts his hands on my shoulders, “No, no, you were right. I am being distant, and writing should not be an excuse to give you all of the attention you deserve. I feel like we’re losing each other and it’s all my fault.”

I pull my eyebrows together in confusion, “Losing each other? I didn’t know you felt like that?” I shrug my shoulders and watch him drop his hands to his side. His Adam’s Apple bounces as he swallows, obviously nervous to have this conversation.

He says nothing, so I turn, continuing to look for a vase to put the flowers in. As I’m digging through a cabinet he puts his hands on my hips and turns me toward him, “I just want you to know that I am going to make everything up to you tonight.” His places his lips on mine. The lips that I have loved since day one. The lips that always make my knees buckle. The lips that even in the heat of every fight causes every ounce of anger melt away. Damn, I loved him.

I pulled my lips off his and ran my finger along my bottom lip. He smiled, knowing that I loved everything about his kisses, and then let me finish finding a vase.

We walked out of the break room together, flowers now equipped with a vase. “So, I’ll, uh, see you later then.” He said while rubbing his left hand up and down the back of his neck. I nodded and gave him a quick peck on the lips before he turned and walked back down the stairs, leaving me with just eyes glued on me. I walked back around my desk and plopped myself in my chair setting the stuffed puppy up so I could look at it for the rest of the day.

“That was really nice of him!” A voice from behind me says.

I smile again and look at my flowers for a second, “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

#calum hood #5sos #imagines #blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood blurbs #claum hood one shot #one shot #5sos imagines #5sos one shot #5sos blurbs #writing #valentines day #please like my stuff #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer one shot #5 seconds of summer blurbs

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rainey-staerie-daize · 3 years

Text

So far, this’s been a weird bad week.

On Sunday, I awoke to cinnamon rolls, strawberries, and bagels, which is unusual in our household. We usually have cereal, but I was fine with this change. I love cinnamon rolls. I thought this was gonna be the only oddity of that day, but I was wrong.

Skye said she was gonna stay home during the littles’ visit, so I got hopeful that I could have a heart-to-heart with Mom about the previous week in the car, but she ended up coming with because I was and she didn’t want to be home alone. And then, Kare was with us too, because she didn’t want to go, so we had her with us for two hours. But, oh! Not two hours, but one, because without Kare, Xan only wanted to spend one hour with their dad.

So, instead of maybe stopping at the store or something, and counting off all the reasons I’ve been upset with my mother, we took a drive for an hour with my sisters. For the first time ever, I turned the other way in the car, hoping Mom got the hint that something was up. After a while of silence, she asked Kare how she was doing, as she usually does when it’s been silent for a while, and then asked me the same thing a minute later. I gave a noncommittal hum, not wanting to talk in that moment with almost everyone in the car.

Before picking up Xan, she went through the Starbucks drive-through to get us each something, so I turned the right way to be able to drink my matcha pineapple drink, but I was still not very happy. Refreshers and fraps can’t fix the hole in my heart where love should go.

After getting Xan, we went to Ross for a new outfit or two each because it’s getting hot out here and Mom has stimulus money right now. I usually love shopping, but considering that I was already upset, Mom previously promised an individual “date” day with each of us for this, I didn’t have my glasses or phone that day, and I like to take my time, I wasn’t having a good time. I found cute items that were too small for me, and couldn’t take pics because I didn’t bring my phone, and I was the last one of the family to be perusing the racks. I HATE to be the one everyone’s waiting on.

And then to top it all off, Mom complained in the car that she “spent way too much money.” I already have a nagging guilt in my subconscious soul whenever I’ve been done shopping the last few times, even when spending my own money. I really didn’t need to hear that I’m actually being a burden on someone, either time-wise or financially.

Holy shit, I need to take a minute.

Anyway, we came home, and everyone went straight to trying everything on. Which makes me anxious, because we just got these clothes, and Mom usually wipes things down or washes them before we use them. Wondered for a few if I was being paranoid, before concluding that I’m not and Mom’s just slipping at this game.

Then Mom started talking about chores we need to get done, and that the garage is getting cleaned out today. Now, she’s said this a lot, so I never know when she’s actually gonna get serious, but apparently, she actually meant it.

I like to clean by myself, preferably when everyone’s asleep or gone, because I know damn well I take to long, and I don’t want the ridicule. Big problem with that is the fact that the anxiety from the possible judgement keeps me from actually starting, so I end up never starting and it never gets done. And Mom was is sick of my shit. Many of the boxes and bags of laundry in the garage are mine.

So, as I was sitting in the kitchen trying to enjoy the ice cream Mom said we could all have, I was trying not to panic when Skye was going through the garage for stuff to bring in and go through. Mom mentioned that she was gonna “force inspiration to clean” onto me, and I told her that’s not how that works.”

Luckily, she found a couple bags of toys to go through first, and I sat and watched, trying to relax so I’d stop feeling sick to my stomach. I’m trying not to feel sick as I type this all, but I gotta let my feelings out somewhere.

Eventually, she brought in a bag of my stuff. I looked at a couple items, and determined it was a bag I’d already gone through a few months ago. It was only in the garage again because I hadn’t washed and put it away yet. So far, so good. Another bag, and I was able to throw some things away without any second guessing. Eventually, I didn’t feel so sick anymore, and was in productive mode.

At some point, Skye asked if she should bring in something that wasn’t clothes, and I explained quietly that I’ve had enough mentally. “Please don’t make me switch tasks right now.” I’m so glad, that at age 20, I know I’m autistic, read up on it a ton, and now have the tools I need to communicate what’s going on in my head.

Skye understood, and brought in more clothes. I’m also so glad to have her as a sister. Mom would’ve seen it as making excuses, which is why I tried not to be loud enough for her to hear. I was in a zone, doing what she wanted (and I needed) for once, and I didn’t need her to break it by yelling.

I set aside the things that weren’t mine to go through, and I got it done. Since I still had quite a lot, I decided to go through everything more selectively at another time, on my own time. We’ll see how that goes.

Had dinner, and I didn’t feel like eating as much as I usually do, and said this to Mom. Told her about how the day went nothing like how I’d planned, and she seemed to finally recognise some depression in me, and offered to have that talk I wanted that night or the next day. After dinner, I chilled for a while with the Gravity Falls tag (pretty sure y’all’ve noticed) in the bathroom, because it’s the one private room of the house and I wanted to be alone, and when I came out, everyone was sleeping and Mom was cleaning. She was spraying everything with Febreze, and then vacuumed after a few, and told me to check my slippers to see if they’re dirty before walking on the carpets. I find this a bit absurd, seeing as how Mom is the one who gets the floors dirty with her shoes (FR, she’s the only one of us that leaves visible shoe prints inside), and I wear slippers specifically so I don’t have to keep washing my feet all the damn time. But not wanting an argument, I complied, and took off my slippers to sit at the desk with the laptop.

The plan was to finally catch up on my school work, but after Mom got on me about the dog being neglected, I simply didn’t have the spoons, and looked up pics of Ford’s futuristic gun. Eventually started reading Gravity Falls: Lost Legends on the purple game phone. Not very productive, I know, but I knew I didn’t have actual class the next day, and I’m normally very responsible with the dog. I’ve only been neglecting her as a bit of a social experiment to see if anybody would notice that the one person who cares for her hasn’t been. Don’t worry, I gave her food and water after a while, but I left the red blanket covered in Kare’s piss over the crate, because if Mom thinks she knows best and wants to put a dirty-ass blanket over the crate, who am I to remove it?

Fucking bitch.

Anyway, after she went to sleep, the living room felt like the Twilight Zone. It had the vibe of being freshly steam-cleaned, despite not being cleaned at all, I felt like I couldn’t lay down anywhere because dirty laundry had touched my leg earlier and I didn’t feel like showering yet, and everyone was asleep but me. Two or three lights were on but I shut them off to help calm my mind a bit. Worked a bit, and I continued reading until the next morning. I heard Mom’s alarm for Xan’s school day start going off, and not wanting to interact with her, I laid down to sleep, letting fate decide if she gets up on time or not. Skye says she didn’t, and Xan ended up not going to school. Oh well. Not my problem.

Oy, she would think I’m such a selfish bitch if she read that, but I honestly don’t care. I half hope she stumbles across this blog just so she finally knows what I’m thinking all the damn time. Stars know that we never did have that talk. In fact, when I made a comment before she went to sleep on Sunday that I’m aweful at this whole “being a human thing,” she accused me of just trying to get sympathy, and “stop the whole ‘woe is me’ bullshit.”

Oy, so I’m amazing, I guess? What do you want me to say? Nothing?? I mean, I guess that’s correct. I would finally stop bugging her with my too-loud voice. I try to moderate my volume, I really do, but sometimes I forget, or I’m being louder than I think I am.

Yesterday, I slept a lot of the day, woke up to take an exam, and came out of my room to find all but one piece of the pineapple Mom got gone. Not only did everyone save me only a single cube, it was so sweet and good, and I’m not sure I did so well on my exam. Mom said the littles’ scarfed it all down in minutes, and that it wasn’t even that good because the enzymes burned their tongues, but I don’t feel bad for them. They wouldn’t have gotten burned so bad if they had saved some for Skye and I. She was still sleeping at the time. I also spotted the only pineapple juice in Kare’s Starbucks cup from the day before, but when I took a sip (because she often wastes food, she won’t miss it), I discovered it was watered down. Ugh.

That night, last night, as I stayed up late reading fan-made Gravity Falls comics, I tried to stay as silent as possible. My laughter is often loud, and I was finally having a good time. I didn’t need Mom waking up to scold me with the whole “I work graveyard, and I just got vaccinated! Why can’t I ever sleep?!”

I think I did a pretty great job of staying quiet for once, but at some point, she called my name, which startled me a bit. I went to her room to see what was up, but after I called back and got no response, I determined that she just called my name in her sleep. Whew.

And now, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, typing away, still being silent. I’ll have a good time with Skye when Mom’s not around. Mom doesn’t deserve to hear my laughter anymore if she doesn’t want it so bad. She was watching late-night comedy when I was typing the first part of this post, but at some point, she got up, and I quickly-but-casually switched tabs to the music I was listening to to read the comments until she left from behind me again. I do want to talk about all of this with her eventually, but I really don’t tonight, and she sometimes reads over my shoulder if it’s easy for her to do so.

I hope she’s getting ready for work right now, and she won’t be able to get an Early Out. I’d love for the anxiety of her randomly crashing my vibes to be gone. Maybe (but probably not) I’ll clean, maybe I’ll read some more in the dark. Don’t know yet.

#hopes and dreams crash and burn #you may hope there's a phoenix somewhere #but there's likely not #they're dead #Raine's daize #I wonder how many of y'all can relate to any of this #anxiety #autism

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perspective-series · 4 years

Text

Kingdom Perspective (11)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, kidnapping, keeping/treating people like pets, threats, and unwanted touching/grabbing

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

—————————————————————————————————-

Patton watched as Roman left with complete shock on his face. He...didn’t lock them in the cage?

“I’ve got him pretty well trained.” Virgil joked, seeing the look on Patton’s face.

Patton shifted a little but didn’t exit out of the cage.

“...well?” Virgil tapped his foot playfully, giving Patton a patient look. “Are you coming?”

Patton bit his lip but did step out of the cage after much hesitation. He fidgeted with his hands. “Roman seems...different.” He said after another moment.

“Yeah.” Virgil admitted, having noticed the true change himself just earlier today. Virgil could only hope it stuck. “What was he like before I got here?”

Patton shrugged. “I don’t really know. I never saw him much...or anyone, for that matter. I only ever really saw and talked to Logan. I think I saw Roman more in these past few days than in the whole year.”

“Weird.” Virgil found a comfortable spot to sit on a stack of papers, patting next to it for Patton to join him. “So tell me about Logan, then. Has he changed?”

Patton took the seat and thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’d say so. Back a year ago he was so...serious. I mean, he still is but less so now. He was more intimidating back then but I could also tell there was a softness in there at the very beginning. Which just continued to grow throughout the year.”

“...uh huh.” Virgil gave him a judgemental look from the side. He had a feeling Patton was the kind of person who tried to see the best in everyone, which in this case wasn’t a good thing.

Patton nodded, not taking notice of the judgemental look. “It’s just, he’s great now, you know? He didn’t even punish me for trying to escape earlier.”

“Okay, first, he should never punish you.” Virgil turned to Patton in shock. “But you really tried to escape earlier? I’m proud of you, Pat. What happened?”

Patton looked away. “Well...it was less trying to escape than just trying to get to you. But, he caught me after I realized I couldn’t open the door by myself.” Patton looked towards said door with a sigh. But then he perked up. “But Logan wasn’t even mad! We had a long talk and after that, I realized I was happy here and didn’t want to leave Logan.”

“Does Logan have some sort of sorcerer powers?” Virgil asked genuinely, remembering that was a thing in this world. “Because that definitely sounds like some sort of brainwashing spell.”

“Um...no, I actually asked him about that and he doesn’t have any sort of magic ability. Which is why he said only Dee would be able to get us back to our world.” He then turned to look at Virgil. “And I’m not brainwashed.”

“Well you certainly seem like it.” Virgil stood firm on his stance. “I mean, you’re seriously telling me you’re happy with the idea of being trapped in a cage the rest of your life, being viewed as an unintelligent pet? Because that’s Stockholm syndrome.”

Patton glanced over at the cage. “It’s...it’s for my own safety.” Patton said, matter of factly. “And Logan doesn’t see me like that…” Logan was his friend, right?

“What’s the cage keeping you safe from?” Virgil looked over at it as well.

“Um...other people?” Patton didn’t really know, that’s just what Logan had told him several months ago.

“Isn’t this Logan’s bedroom?” Virgil pointed out. “Does anyone else even come in here?”

“Well...not anymore. But servants used to enter the room all the time and…” Patton shivered. A lot of servants were good at not even looking at him but others...other got a little too curious. “Now, I’ve only ever seen Roman, the king, and Logan’s advisor come in here.”

“Okay, but even then, how’s a cage going to stop them?” Virgil pointed out. “Any of them can open it. All it does is keep you from running away.”

Patton looked down. “I...I guess you do have a point...but still! I trust Logan and he cares about me. And that doesn’t make me brainwashed.” Patton crossed his arms.

“It’s been a year, Patton.” Virgil reminded him gently. “It’d be really easy for you to mistake ‘not being as big a jerk as he could be’ for ‘caring about you’. And sure, Logan probably cares about you, but only like an owner cares for a dog. He doesn’t see you as a person.”

Patton bit his lip. “Well, I think you’re wrong.” He said simply.

“Then why does he still treat you like a pet?” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

Well...Patton didn’t really have an answer for that. So he just stubbornly kept his mouth shut.

“Patton, maybe Logan does really care about you.” Virgil knew he didn’t have all the details, even if the signs were pretty clear. “But if he really cared about you he’d want what’s best for you.”

Patton bit his lip, thinking back to the conversation he had with Logan. How...How Logan had said he just wanted Patton to be happy. Even if that meant letting him go. But if Patton told that to Virgil, he would make him go back to their world. And...And Patton didn’t want that. “He does.” Was all he could say.

“Then he’ll want you to go too.” Virgil insisted. “And hopefully, between the three of us, we can convince him to take us back.”

“But I don't want to.” Patton said once more, looking at Virgil.

“Why?” Virgil said exasperatedly, looking lost.

“Because Logan is the only one who has cared about me in years!” Patton suddenly exclaimed. His eyes widened at his own outburst and he lowered his eyes, turning away from Virgil. “I need Logan and Logan needs me. We’re...friends.” They were friends, weren’t they?

“...Patton, that can’t be true.” Virgil gave his fellow human a sympathetic look. “You’re far too nice to be ignored. I’m sure somebody cared about you before Logan.”

Patton was quiet, still not looking at Virgil.

“And even if you are friends, that doesn’t mean you should stay here.” Virgil shook his head. “I mean, only socializing with one person can’t be healthy.”

“...I don’t think either of us are going to see eye to eye anytime soon.” Patton said after a moment. He finally looked back up at Virgil. “Can we just...drop it?” Patton’s head was starting to hurt and he didn’t like arguing with the other human.

Virgil stared at Patton for a moment, considering. He didn’t want Patton to stay here, but he also didn’t want to drive the human further away by continuing to argue.

“Fine.” Virgil shifted his sitting position to face forwards again. “Yeah, we can drop it.” He was quiet a moment. “Sorry.”

Patton nodded. “Thank you.” And then, after a moment. “I’m sorry too, I hate fighting.”

“It wasn’t fighting, I was just...nope, sorry, right. Dropping it.” Virgil put his hands up in surrender, staring straight ahead.

Patton sent Virgil a smile, letting him know that he appreciated Virgil dropping it. Patton looked around. They still had a bit of time before Logan came back and well, Patton didn’t really want to spend it in silence. “So...did anything big or interesting happen in the year that I was gone?” Patton asked.

“Well, we’ve got a clown in the white house.” Virgil joked. “Although I guess that’s nothing new. Uh….climate change is still going to kill us all. The bees are disappearing at an alarming rate.”

Patton nodded, though he had already known all that from when he was taken. He didn’t have to worry about any of that stuff in this world though. “So still the same old earth, huh?”

“Not anymore.” Virgil gave him a grin. “They must be going insane, now that I’m gone. I practically run the place. Last year we decided to make it a dictatorship, and naturally I was chosen. I’ve always given off good evil overlord vibes.”

Patton chuckled, knowing Virgil was just joking. “Aww, I don’t think you’re evil.” Patton thought for a moment. “And you know if that’s true, you just called yourself a clown, right?” Patton grinned.

“...I see you’ve caught onto my foolproof lie.” Virgil chuckled, realizing his mistake.

Patton laughed. It was quiet for another moment. “So...it looks like you and Roman are getting along now?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t change. Roman just became a half-decent person.”

Patton hummed. “I was worried about you, when Roman first came in for Logan’s advice but it seemed he only got better with each visit.” Patton said.

“...shouldn’t he be back by now?” Virgil frowned, looking towards the door.

Patton frowned and followed Virgil’s line of sight. “It depends. He’s been getting later and later recently, what with the coronation coming up.” Patton explained.

“I meant Roman.” Virgil shifted slightly. “I kinda thought he’d be here for when Logan comes.”

“Oh, uh, well if Logan’s the king than he’s becoming the next in line, right? Which means he needs to do all the stuff Logan used to have to do. So...he might be a while too.” Patton explained once again.

“Right.” Virgil began to bounce his leg anxiously. “But who do you think will be back first? Because I’m not exactly eager to do this without Roman.”

Patton frowned. “Why? Logan’s great.” The human smiled at that. “And uh, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Logan got back first, since he’s been out the longest.” Patton said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly eager to try and talk him into giving away his prized pet alone.” Virgil gave Patton a sideways glare. “I’m not exactly a friendly person, and giants have a tendency to not listen to me.” Virgil paused, his mind beginning to spiral through all the ways this could go horribly wrong. “Patton. When you’re...disobedient, what does Logan do?”

Patton shifted uncomfortably. “Well...that hasn’t happened in a while.” Patton was usually good and the few times he did do something over these last few days, Logan had told him it wasn’t really his fault.

“But...well, my punishments usually ranged from isolation to having my things taken away. He would also scold me sometimes, if he was really frustrated. There was also a few times I went to bed without dinner but those didn’t happen too often.” Patton thought back, shivering slightly at the memories.

“Okay, first, what the hell.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Friends don’t do that crap. That’s messed up. But uh…” Virgil licked at his chapped lips. “What do you think he’ll do with me? I mean, I’m not exactly obedient, and no way in hell I’m going to act it either, but…” But, at the same time, Virgil preferred his limbs stay attached to his body.

Patton furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, you don’t have to worry about him hurting you. He’d never do that.” Patton thought for a moment. “But, I’m not sure. He might just tell Roman for him to deal with you? I can’t be certain.”

“How can you be sure?” Virgil turned to Patton, looking a bit frantic. “Patton, he’s a Giant. If Logan wanted to he could reach out and snap my arm with his fingers!”

Patton gasped. “He wouldn’t do that!” He had feared that same thing, way back when, but it had been clear over time that his fears were unfounded. “Just breathe Virgil, everything is going to be okay.” He placed a hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly.

It was at that moment the door creaked open, a giant stepping into the room.

Virgil tensed, sitting up straight and looking at the eldest prince with trepidation clear on his features.

Logan paused just inside the doorway, taking in the scene before him. The cage was open, and Patton was out with Virgil, but a glance around the room made it clear that Roman was nowhere in sight.

Patton perked up. “Logan!” It was then that he realized he wasn’t inside the cage. “Oh, uh, sorry I’m out but uh, Roman came by and dropped Virgil off.” He motioned toward Virgil with a smile.

“I can see that.” Logan came closer, looking almost puzzled.

The second Logan took a step forwards Virgil shot up, standing on his feet and trying to look confident. “I’ve come to talk to you.” Virgil spoke.

“Oh, you have?” Logan raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “Where’s Roman?”

“I said I’ve come to talk to you.” Virgil felt his hands curl into fists, hating the way giants always acted as though he wasn’t worthy of being addressed. “Not Roman, me.”

Patton looked between the two, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything or what he even could say.

“You’re quite feisty for a human.” Logan noted. “But go on, you may speak.”

Virgil wanted to sass the giant further, but at the last second he remembered he was supposed to be winning Logan over. “I want you to send us home.”

“...I see. That isn’t exactly under my jurisdiction.” Logan pulled out the desk chair, sitting down so he could look at the humans from more equal footing.

“Yeah, but it’s going to be.” Virgil pointed out. “You’re gonna be king, and then you say the word and we could leave.”

Logan paused, his eyes shifting to Patton.

Patton met Logan’s eyes for a second, before looking down. “Virgil wants to go home.”

Logan didn’t know whether to feel guilty for the feeling of relief that washed over him.

“We both need to go home.” Virgil insisted, giving Patton a look.

“Well either way, I am not your caretaker.” Logan adjusted his spectacles. “Such a decision would certainly require a consultation with Roman.”

“It shouldn’t.” Virgil crossed his arms. “But Roman already agreed because he’s not a stuck up prick... anymore.”

“Be that as it may, I would still like to hear such a statement from his lips.” Logan glanced between the door and the desk. “Where is he, anyways? Why are the two of you alone?”

“Roman got pulled away for his new duties.” Patton explained. “And, well, I heard Roman say he agreed too.”

“Regardless, this is quite the turn around.” Logan narrowed his gaze. “Roman was quite adamant about getting a human for a long time. How did you get him to change his tune so quickly?”

The question surprised Virgil enough to make the human actually think about it. “I yelled at him a lot and didn’t play all of your guy’s mind games.”

“Mind games?” The prince repeated.

“Yeah, like what you did to Patton.” Virgil jabbed his thumb in Patton’s direction.

Patton sighed, turning to Virgil. “Virgil, there aren’t any mind games going on. I told you already.” He wanted to stay because Logan was his friend. Not because of some sort of brainwashing.

“I certainly haven’t done anything of the sort to Patton.” Logan assured Virgil.

“Am I the only one who’s not crazy?” Virgil scoffed. He walked across the desk, gesturing with both arms towards Patton’s enclosure. “You keep him in a cage! You make him do little tricks for your amusement. You act like he’s an inferior being and deserves to be treated like this. And even worse, then you go and lie to him about actually caring just so that he’ll stay here.”

“He does care about me!” Patton exclaimed. He turned to Logan. “Right?”

“I...yes.” Logan answered Patton’s question truthfully.

“You hesitated!” Virgil pointed an accusing finger at Logan.

“I was thinking about your previous statements.” Indeed, Logan’s mind was still processing it. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to be misunderstood. “I do believe you’re simplifying the issue.”

“There’s not exactly a grey area here.” Virgil argued. “Kidnapping people is wrong.”

“Fair enough.” Logan relented. “Although you must understand, in my defense, I was not the one who...took Patton from his former life. Indeed, unlike the case with Roman, I am not even the primary reason Patton is now within this realm. Patton was first discovered by the court sorcerer, who shared this discovery with my father.”

Patton shivered as those memories came back to him. That had been the scariest moment of his life. A giant hand reaching from the heavens to grab him and take him into a place where everything was so much bigger than he was. Not to mention, he hadn’t been given to Logan right away. He pushed those memories down deep.

“Their methods were not always...kind.” Logan kept his wording mild, not wanting to trigger any unhappy feelings for Patton. Though Logan had seen and heard very few details, the fear that had always been present on Patton’s features back then was heartbreaking. Indeed, it was the first instance where Logan felt truly sympathetic towards an individual other than himself.

“Eventually though they grew bored of Patton.” Logan continued. “When father suggested getting rid of him, by rather horrific means unfortunately, I quickly offered to take Patton under my care instead.”

Patton smiled. He remembered that well. “Y-Yeah! Logan saved me.” He’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for Logan.

“Fine, you did one nice thing.” Virgil relented. This king guy sounded like a premium jerk. Maybe it really was a good thing Logan was replacing him. “But that still doesn’t explain all the pet stuff. Patton is a person, yet you’ve been treating him like a talking hamster.”

“What is a hamster?” Logan tilted his head, confused.

“Oh! A hamster is a kind of rodent about this big.” Patton showed how big they were with his hands. “Well, at least in our world. Humans usually keep them as pets.” Patton explained.

“That’s miniscule.” Logan tried to picture a creature so small, let alone of the rodent variety. Most rodents were the size of Patton.

“You’re missing the point.” Virgil groaned. “You’re treating Patton like a pet and it’s freaking wrong and creepy.”

Patton wanted to argue some more, he did. But he knew he was treated like a pet. Logan still definitely cared about him. He had just yet to change how he took care of him. But, they were friends now. Surely Logan still didn’t see him as a pet, like in the beginning.

“Patton is well cared for, and I thought it would be most beneficial to his health if I kept large changes to a minimum.” Logan spoke in a soft tone, as if explaining things to a child. “Certainly Patton has never voiced any concerns over these arrangements, so I was under the assumption that this was acceptable.”

“You just said he nearly died!” Virgil exclaimed. “Of course he didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to be punished and literally lose his life for saying ‘hey could I maybe not live in captivity like an animal’?”

Patton looked down for a moment. “Logan...I...well…” How did he say this. “We’re friends, right? And I do want to stay but maybe if we lost the...uh...cage and stuff, that would be...nice.” Patton bit his lip and looked up nervously at the giant.

“...friends.” The thought had never occurred to Logan. Logan had never had many friends. As a child he was only allowed to interact with other children of noble birth, many of whom were too incompetent and tedious for Logan to stand being within the same room. Even Roman could only be around so long before Logan needed blissful privacy.

But Patton…Patton was certainly different. Logan had never grown tired of Patton’s presence. He trusted Patton more than some of his advisors, and the human was the only one guaranteed to be able to improve Logan’s mood.

Indeed, though he had never applied that term to their relationship in his mind, it was clear that their bond was something akin to friendship. Patton was, at his core, Logan’s truest and only friend.

But what did that mean? Keeping a pet was one thing, but keeping a friend…?

“Of course.” Logan nodded, his eyes glazing over slightly as he tumbled down a rabbit hole of thoughts.

Patton frowned and was now looking at Logan with concern. “Logan? Are you okay?”

“...I think I have to go.” Logan abruptly stood up, almost bumping the table in his haste.

“Wait a second, what about me?” Virgil stepped forwards, realizing this might be his last chance.

“I, yes, you can go.” Logan waved offhandedly at the table, heading for the door.

“Logan! Wait!” Patton called out. Though he wasn’t sure what, he knew something had happened. But what? Why was Logan suddenly acting like this?

Logan did wait a moment, his hand on the door handle. “I need to think.” Logan didn’t look in their direction, leaving to clear his head. The door shut with a resounding thud.

Virgil looked at the door, trying to figure out if this was a success. Logan did say he could go. Maybe he was finally breaking down, just like Roman.

“What’s gotten into him?” Patton asked out loud but mostly to himself. Was it something Patton had said?

“I’m not sure, but I think he might be coming to his senses.” Virgil answered, a slow smile forming on his face.

“...Oh.” Could that be it? Was it his comment about the cage that tipped Logan like that? Patton couldn’t be for sure.

It was a few moments later when the door opened again. Patton perked up, expecting Logan to have come back but instead came in Roman.

“Alright, I finally managed to get away from them.” Roman sighed with relief. “Has Logan come by yet?”

Virgil nodded. “He was just here, but he left after we started him down a path of existential crisis.”

“Oh, well...I’m not sure Logan has ever had one of those before.” Roman pondered. “This should be good for him then. What did he say about the whole, letting you guys go, thing?”

“He’s gonna let Virgil go home.” Patton said, looking down at the ground. Roman blinked.

“Just Virgil?” He raised an eyebrow.

“...we’re working on it.” Virgil said in explanation.

Roman hummed. “Well, maybe we should come back tomorrow and see what Logan says then. Virgil? Are you coming back with me?”

“Oh, I mean, I guess.” Virgil was surprised Roman asked, but Virgil wasn’t eager to spend more time here. Even if Logan wasn’t as bad as Virgil had suspected, he was still an unknown. And hanging around with Patton got depressing after a while.

“Great!” Roman grinned and held out his hand for Virgil to climb onto. Patton looked up again when they said they were leaving.

“Bye Virgil. See ya later.”

“Bye.” Virgil gave him a wave, climbing into Roman’s hand with only slight hesitation. It wasn’t like he could get back on his own. No...wait a second… yes he could. Virgil was capable.

“Wait!” Virgil quickly hurried off, back onto the desk.

Roman blinked. “Wh-What?” Roman asked, caught off guard by what Virgil had done.

Patton, too, was confused.

“I mean...I don’t need a ride.” Virgil explained. “I can get back on my own.”

“...I repeat, what?” Roman asked. “You...can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Virgil argued. “I mean, if I’m gonna be spending a few days here I should probably know how to get around.”

“He has a point.” Patton said, backing his fellow human up.

Roman sighed. He didn’t like the idea and it was much faster to just carry Virgil but...he didn’t want to lose what little trust he had gained. “Alright, fine. Do you at least want help down to the floor?”

“...yes.” Virgil admitted, remembering how his body was still bruised from the last time he yeeted himself off a desk. He climbed back onto Roman’s palm.

“You know, it would be a lot faster if I just carried you.” Roman said as he kneeled down and placed his palm on the ground.

“You in a hurry or something?” Virgil asked, stepping down onto the floor.

“Well, not exactly.” Roman admitted. “But still.”

Roman was correct, it would be faster. But Virgil didn’t want to become dependent on Roman, even if Roman wasn’t as awful as before. Virgil had to stay independent, or at least feel safe in the knowledge that he could be independent if he chose.

“I know.” Virgil shrugged, beginning the trek to the door.

Roman sighed but stood up and watched Virgil walk. He turned to Patton with a smile. “See ya later Pat.”

“Bye Roman.” Patton said with a small smile of his own. Roman then turned back and headed towards the door to hold it open for Virgil.

“...thanks.” Virgil muttered, trying not to flinch at the way the floor shook when Roman walked or get discouraged by how easily Roman covered the same distance. Not to mention, Virgil couldn’t have opened the door on his own. Maybe it wasn’t completely possible to be independent. He walked through the doorway, keeping his head down.

Roman waited a little bit before following Virgil. He moved so he was walking next to the human. Although, he was only taking a step every, about, 20 seconds. It was kind of annoying but he wasn’t about to complain.

“...where am I going?” Virgil paused at his first fork in the road, realizing he didn’t actually know where Roman’s room was; everything looked the same in the hallways, too.

Roman chuckled. “Just keep going straight down this hallway, turn right and you’re there.”

“Right, okay.” Virgil continued down the hall, speed walking to try and hurry along. He felt embarrassed about the way Roman had to lollygag behind him, feeling Roman watching him.

Roman was trying his best to watch out for Virgil but even he didn’t have a chance to react as a dog came bounding down the hallway and right towards them.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #giants #human!virgil #human!patton #giant!logan #giant!roman #platonic #kingdom perspective #part 11

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Special Delivery

Fabio moves in, and Martin questions my judgement.

Word Count 2987

A/N Just a fluffy piece of self indulgence. A few swear words.

No under 18s please

7 A New Lodger

The morning dawned bright with autumn sunshine, and I woke to find Ginger on the bedroom windowsill looking longingly out at the field behind the house.

‘Sorry Ginge’ I apologised. ‘It’ll be a while before you get to explore.’ He turned back to me, making a noise that told me he was a little disgruntled before he jumped down to demand breakfast. ‘Well it’s a good job you like Fabricio, he’ll be moving in today’ I said, leaning down to scratch his head, and he rose up to meet my hand and leaned heavily on my leg as if to say less talk, more food.

As I left him to scarf up his kibble, my phone dinged with a message from Martin.

Hey Lisa, Sue’s out for the day, want me to come up and do some gardening?

I’ll be busy today, soz

Well duh, was offering to help. I have cake.

I looked at the phone and sighed. Martin would find out sooner or later, so I’d better call, I thought. He picked up almost instantly.

‘Hey Martin, we need to talk.’

‘I can be there in ten.’ he replied eagerly, scenting gossip.

‘I – uh, I’ll be out in half an hour, that won’t work.’ Martin’s tone changed.

‘Okay Lisa, what have you done?’ he said darkly.

‘Funny story.’ I laughed apologetically ‘My friend slash brother is gong to be my new lodger.’ I heard him suck his breath in.

‘Please tell me you mean at Jackson street – no, wait – that would make him a tenant. For fucks sake Leese, he’s moving in with you?’

‘Kind of.’

‘He either is or he isn’t. Shit, you only met him less than a week ago.’

‘Please don’t freak, Martin. It will be fine. Ginger likes him, and he’s a great judge of character.’

‘Ginger also likes chasing mice and leaving their corpses by your bed.’ he scolded ‘This guy delivers pizza for fuck’s sake.’

‘Okay, if you’re going to carry on being negative I’m going to cut you off.’ I took a deep breath as Martin remained silent. ‘It’s just a temporary thing, he’s looking for modelling jobs. It’s what he does, he’ll be off on a shoot for a few days and then come back. He just ran short of funds and had to hole up for a while. This way he has somewhere nice to live and will be able to make more money before he goes home.’

‘Why don’t you just rent him your old place?’ Martin asked.

‘It’s not ready yet, and it would be too expensive.’ I paused for a moment, and he waited, the silence oozing sceptiscism. ‘It’s different here Mar, the neighbours are too far away to notice if I fall down the stairs, break my neck and Ginge decides I’m dinner. I’d feel safer having someone around. I was going to advertise for a lodger anyway. This way I have someone to help out straight away.’

‘Right. Did he pressure you into this, Leese? Because that’s manipulative.’

‘No, he didn’t. It was my idea. He did say he was getting bad vibes off some of the others in his building, but that was after I offered.’

‘Think hard now, Leese.’ Martin persisted ‘No big hints, no puppy dog eyes?’

‘Puppies have brown eyes, Mar. Fabio’s eyes are grey.’

‘You know damn well what I mean.’

‘No, no hints, no pleading, no sob story. I’ll be fetching him soon. He’s got Dad’s old bike and he’ll take that to work and back.’

‘Well I suppose it’s too late to stop you.’ he said reluctantly ‘But the moment anything seems off – anything negative, let me know. I’m going to be checking up on you – every day, you hear me?’

‘As long as it doesn’t trigger Sue.’

‘To hell with Sue. If she doesn’t understand…’ he paused ‘Look, I can still come over today, so he knows I’ve got your back.’

‘If you want to bring over a housewarming present I guess I couldn’t stop you. Even if it’s only a pot plant.’

‘Cake.’ he said assertively. ‘How does two this afternoon suit you?’

‘I can make sure we’re in – I’ll make like it’s a surprise.’

‘That sounds like a cunning plan. Okay Les, see you later.’

-------

Fabio rang me later, and I went to his flat to pick him up. He was waiting outside with a large wheeled suitcase and his backpack. I got out to open the boot, and he came round to swing his suitcase in before lightly touching my shoulder and kissing me on the cheek.

‘Gracias, Lisa.’ he smiled ‘This means so much to me. I love to stay with people who live in the places I visit.’

‘De nada.’ I said, and he grinned even wider as I told him you’re welcome in his native language.

‘Your accent is very English.’ he said. ‘But I also have an accent, so we are even.’ He smiled ‘Wait a moment please, there is something else’ He vanished back into the house and came out again holding a large bunch of flowers. I blushed furiously as he handed them to me and again kissed me on the cheek.

‘Oh Fabio you shouldn’t have’ I protested. His lips lingered near my ear for a moment, sending shivers down my spine.

‘I have a bottle of wine in my bag. Tonight we get drunk together, no?’ I laughed nervously.

‘Just a little.’

‘Si, solo un poco, just a little.’ He pulled away and I put the flowers carefully onto the back seat. We got into the car and belted ourselves in before setting off. he leaned back in his seat and watched the passing streets.

‘How was the gym?’

‘Muy bueno. Very good, my belly will be flat soon, you will see.’ he said, patting his stomach. I swallowed at the thought of his muscled torso. ‘How is your cat? Is he happy in his new home?’

‘He wants to go outside.’ I said, glad of the distraction. ‘He has to stay in – you must be careful when we get there. Don’t open the kitchen door until the porch door is closed, and don’t leave your window open.’

‘Cómo no – of course.’ he replied. ‘Tonight we eat together, yes?’

‘Yes, I thought perhaps some salmon and salad, will that suit you?’

‘Muy Beuno, delicioso.’

‘Ginger will be happy, he loves fish.’

Once at the house, Fabio took his suitcase into his room and I put the kettle on for tea.

‘I’ve got some soup for lunch, you can have some if you like.’ I offered as he came out of his room a little while later. He accepted, and I set about getting things ready. Ginger came down from the upstairs bedroom and rubbed himself around Fabricio’s legs.

‘Can I pick him up?’ he asked. ‘He won’t bite?’

‘No, Ginge is very chilled – relaxed. If he wriggles put him down.’ The cat allowed himself to be hoisted up and started to purr as Fabio scratched his chin and ears.

‘We get on well, you and I.’ Fabio said ‘together, we look after Lisa, yes?’ Ginger wriggled, and he put him carefully back on the floor.

‘I think it’s me looking after you two.’ I joked as I handed him the bread to take through to the dining room.

‘We all look after each other then.’ he smiled. We sat and ate lunch quietly.

‘Is there anything you want to do today?’ I asked ‘There’s a wood nearby, we could go for a walk, and perhaps tomorrow we could go out to the coast.’

‘There are beaches?’

‘Yes, but it’s too late in the year and too cold to sunbathe or go swimming. It’s mostly estuary here anyway.’

‘Estuary?’

‘Where the rivers go into the sea. It’s tidal, not proper seaside.’

‘Ah entiendo – I understand.’ He reached out to take my empty bowl and stood to take the dishes to the kitchen. ‘We walk later – now I must read my emails and send one to my mother.’

‘The internet’s all set up, I’ll give you the password.’

‘Let me wash up, senora.’ he said, and I blinked at the formality of ‘senora’, but said nothing.

‘Okay, just leave it to drain and I’ll put it away. I have some sorting to do upstairs. Remember, don’t let Ginger out.’

‘Lo siento. Call me when you are ready.’

Once upstairs I spent some time sorting out clothes, and calculated when to go out so that we would be back before Martin came. I decided not to leave it to chance and texted him to delay him a little longer, then went down to find no trace of my lodger, so I tapped on his door.

‘If you’d like, we can go out now.’ I suggested. He appeared quickly, pulling on a jacket and holding a pair of boots to replace his trainers.

‘It’s not such a tough walk as the hills.’ I explained ‘But if you wanted to go running it’s a good route.’ We set off down a nearby side road until we hit the entrance to the wood, and turned off to take the path. He agreed that it was an excellent place for running, save for the odd dog walker who had omitted to clear up after their pet. We were out for just less than an hour, turning back when the sky started to darken and arriving back as the first drops of rain started to fall.

‘Lisa.’ Fabio said ‘We should talk more about me being here.’ I felt a little thrill as we stood together in the kitchen, me fussing with cups ready to make more tea, more to occupy myself than anything else, feeling a little awkward. Martin would make an appearance soon, I thought.

‘Oh yes?’ I asked ‘What did you want to say?’ He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back on the kitchen counter.

‘Well’ he said ‘I said I want to be more than a brother to you.’ I tried to keep my expression neutral, wondering where he was going with the conversation, a sick excited feeling in the pit of my stomach. As I hadn’t answered him, he went on ‘Before you invited me to live here’ he continued.

‘Yes, that’s so.’ I responded, and he stood clear of the counter.

‘I don’t want you to be uncomfortable’ he said, holding his palms out to me ‘I would never do anything you don’t like.’ My heart hammered in my chest. ‘You have no boyfriend?’ he asked as I remained silent, mind whirling. ‘Do you like men? Did someone hurt you?’ I laughed awkwardly.

‘That’s a lot of questions.’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘No, I have no-one special right now, yes I do like men - and no, nobody hurt me. I’ve had – a few relationships but nothing that lasted more than a year or so.’

‘You look for your someone special?’ he asked ‘Someone who’s not just staying for a few months?’

‘I don’t know’ I said ‘I’ve not had much luck so far. I think – Fabio, it’s not easy. My heart tells me one thing and my head another.’

‘Your heart tells you what?’ he smiled. I felt a little dizzy.

‘It tells me…’ at that moment the doorbell rang, and I jumped violently.

‘Hey Leese!’ Martin’s voice came from outside the porch. I was frozen for a moment, and Fabio looked startled. I tore my gaze away from him to go and answer ‘I was just passing, can I come in? I brought cake to celebrate your move.’ Martin said, winking broadly. I cursed his sense of timing and plastered a smile onto my face.

‘Martin, what a surprise. We were just making tea.’

‘We?’ he asked innocently, handing me a box.

‘Umm yeah – you met Fabio.’ I lead him into the kitchen and Fabio shifted self consciously, flashing his white toothed smile. ‘He’s my new lodger.’ The two men shook hands.

‘Hello again.’ said Martin ‘You’re a lucky man, finding a place like this to stay – and Lisa, of course. How did you meet again?’

‘Now come on Martin.’ I said ‘I know how you take your tea. Go through into the lounge and I’ll put this out onto a plate.’

‘Excuse me.’ Fabio said. ‘I go to the bathroom, wash my hands.’

‘Here, let me see to the cake.’ said Martin loudly as Fabio left the kitchen.

‘Well that was fucking subtle.’ I hissed at him ‘asking him how we met. I don’t want you to scare him, just be polite and interested.’

‘You know how I feel, Leese’ he answered in a low tone.

‘Well your timing was just great, Einstein. Here, take the cake through, we’ll have it in the lounge.’ In minutes we were all seated, Martin on one end of the couch and Fabio at the other, the cake and plates on the coffee table. Martin sat back, foot balanced on his knee, and Fabio leaned toward me, elbows on his knees. I took a slice of the cake and offered it to Fabio

‘Just a little.’ he said. ‘remember, I must look good for work.’

‘It’s easy to work this stuff off.’ Martin assured him ‘special low calorie stuff.’ I snorted

‘He’s lying.’ I sighed.

‘Joking, not lying’ he retorted.

‘So, Lisa didn’t tell me very much about you’’ Fabio said, regarding the cake before turning to Martin and asking ‘How did you meet?’ I laughed.

‘Well played, Fabio. We met at Tai Chi class, and Martin also did yoga. He takes his own classes now, in Ashtanga yoga’ Martin sat up straight and puffed his chest out a little.

‘Oh, my brother’s sister does Ashtanga’ Fabio said. ‘Es muy dificil – very difficult. You must be very fit to teach it.’ Martin smirked a little, his ego stoked.

‘Oh, do you do yoga?’ he asked in a slightly superior tone.

‘No, I go to the gym, I run.’ he replied. At that moment Ginger came into the room, obviously disturbed from a nap by our voices.

‘Hey little man.’ Martin said. ‘How’re you enjoying your new home?’

‘He’s not allowed out yet.’ I explained.

‘Oh bad luck, fuzzface’ he said, reaching down to scratch his head. Ginger ducked away from him and sat by me, regarding the cake with interest.

‘No cake for you.’ I said ‘If you’re staying in, you’re not getting enough exercise, so short rations I’m afraid.’

‘Oh pobre gato.’ poor cat Fabio said, reaching out with his hand and flicking his fingers. Ginger went over to him for some attention and sympathy.

‘Well will you look at that.’ said Martin. ‘the little fella likes you.’ Fabio shrugged

‘Cats like me. Ginger is muy chulo – a cool cat.’

‘El gato churo?’ I asked. Fabricio threw back his head and laughed.

‘I am here to learn English better, not teach Spanish.’ He turned his gaze to mine ‘Have you been to Espana, Lisa? It is a beautiful place. I go to Madrid, to Barcelona. Muy hermoso’

‘No, I’ve not travelled outside Britain, I get stressed out travelling.’ His face fell.

‘Oh but travelling is so exciting.’

‘I love going to new places, it’s getting there that I’m not keen on.’ I explained ‘I’m scared that I’ll miss my flight or get lost.’

‘That is very sad.’ he said, then his face lit up ‘You should come with me on a shoot, I look after you.’ Martin cleared his throat and glared at me.

‘Well I need to get Ginger settled before…’ my voice trailed away.

‘Is just an idea.’ Fabio said, and took a bite of the cake. ‘This is good.’ he waved it at Martin. ‘You make this?’ Martin made a sour face.

‘No, my partner did. Stress baking.’ he looked at his own slice and took a bite ‘I think she makes it to make me fat so I can’t teach yoga. Most of my students are women, and she’s very possessive.’ Fabio’s eyes widened for a moment. He reached over and patted Martin’s knee sympathetically.

‘That is too bad. Take her some flowers, make her feel special.’ Martin’s eyes flicked to the flowers in the window, the ones that Fabio had bought for me.

‘She’d just think I’d done something bad and was trying to compensate.’ he sighed ‘Honestly Leese, I don’t know how much longer I can take this. I can see me moving back in with my parents.’

‘I have a spare house for rent.’ I grinned. He rolled his eyes.

‘I’ll stick it out a bit longer, thanks.’ We all chatted on, and the atmosphere settled to a relaxed ambience, albeit with a few undercurrents. Before long we had finished the cake and tea, and Martin announced he had better go back before Sue got home. I walked out with him to his car, the grass wet from the rain shower earlier.

‘Well I guess either he is a nice guy, or he’s not shown his true colours’ Martin said ‘But did you see how he put his hand on my knee earlier? Gay.’ I snorted.

‘It’s just his Latino mannerisms.’ I reassured him. ‘You can’t judge him by our buttoned up British standards.’ He tutted, then threw his arms wide for a bear hug. I leaned into him, feeling his reassuring solidity. He drew away and smiled ruefully.

‘You take care, Lisa. Any funny business, any steps out of line and call me. I’ll be here in a shot, never mind Sue.’

‘Thanks, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary.’ I assured him. ‘I’ll keep you updated.’ He got in the car and wound down his window.

‘Knickers on, legs crossed.’ he told me gravely before he reversed, turned, and pulled out carefully onto the road and I waved him goodbye.

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

is a virtue {Brian May} [1/2]

[ And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse ]

Summary: Gizelle wants to set Brian up with one of her friends, a model named Patience Hall, and the guitarist is surprised to find how nervous he is, and how Patience is nothing like he expected.

A/N: PATIENCE PATIENCE PATIENCE MY DEAR LOVE, anyways i adore patience and i need to write more about her. this is part 1, but there is a part 2 coming. @ginghampearlsnsweettea and @prettyboyroger i lov u both to the moon n back

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“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” it’s a Wednesday afternoon, overcast, though that in itself wasn’t really a sign of anything, especially not in the middle of Winter, but still Brian feels a wave of apprehension settle over him when he realises Gizelle is talking to him. The band is waiting for Freddie to show up since he’s late, again , and while Roger’s working on a new drum solo, and John and Veronica perusing a furniture catalogue together, but Brian’s been writing lyrics, perched on his amp.

Gizelle, coffee in one hand, designer handbag in the other, cocks her hip as she waits for Brian to look at her, and comprehend what she’s said, and she watches with amusement as a range of emotions flick across his face.

“You’re not trying to set me up with one of your sisters, are you?” Brian asks, and Gizelle has to bite back a smile as she plays innocent.

“You and Gabrielle get on well, don’t you?” Behind her, John snorts a laugh where he’s clearly eavesdropping, but Brian sighs as though terribly put upon.

“You know that’s not the one I meant.”

“As hilarious as I find the concept of you and ‘Vanna together, unfortunately she’s taken up with some American hair-metal boy, so no, I’m not trying to set you up with one of my sisters.” There’s the faintest twitch of her lips that indicates she’s trying not to smile at the thought, but for Gizelle knowing the sound guys are in the very next room, it’s her equivalent of a full-bellied laugh.

“So go on then, tell me then, who’s the unlucky lady?” Brian asks with only the barest hint of amused self-deprecation. Gizelle gives him a flat stare, the way her perfect eyebrows lower being the only real change in her facial expression, but it’s enough to let him know that she’s disappointed in his negative self-talk.

“She’s a friend of mine,” Gizelle explains, “we met through work.”

“She in a band?” Brain asks, interest piqued, finally putting down his notebook and pushing off from the amp to stand. Gizelle shook her head.

“My other work, Miami and I’s mutual friend is representing her in a contract dispute, and he brought me in to raise her profile and make sure she’d still get work after the dust settles,” Gizelle explained, which only seemed to confuse the guitarist, “even if she wins and gets out of her contract, there’s no guarantee she won’t be blackballed from potential jobs in the future so -”

“So you throw your support behind her and everyone and their dog wants to hire her,” Brian nodded, finally understanding, and Gizelle cracks a smile, “is that why you want me to meet her? Do you want us to hire her?” And there’s confusion in his voice, but it’s Gizelle’s turn to be confused.

“She’s a model; I want you to meet her because I think you’ll like her,” she tells him bluntly, and Brian’s expression lights up as he goes pink around the ears, pleased.

“Are you sure?” He’s trying to play it cool, “not that I don’t trust your judgement, but you did marry Roger .” And they both ignore Roger’s indignant scoff, but Gizelle’s smiling at that, her fond gaze flicking to him over Brian’s shoulder before she looks back to see Brian’s amused expression.

“I promise you’ll like her,” Gizelle assured gently, before offering him her coffee cup to hold, fishing around in her bag for a moment. Pulling out a business card, she hands it over with a flourish, “she knows I’m giving you her number; she’s expecting your call.”

“Oh is she now?” Brian raises his eyebrows, smiling as he exchanges the coffee for the card, taking the time to read it.

Patience Hall in a neat, nondescript typeface, white text against the dark skinned model whose headshot made up the background. On the back, there’s a business and fax number, but beneath those, neatly handwritten, sits a personal telephone number.

“This is her?” Brian’s voice is a little soft, a little awed as he takes in card as a whole; it feels so professional. Looking at the model, at her serious expression and gorgeous dark eyes printed in black and white, he quietly gets a little giddy at the idea of taking her out. When he looks up, meeting Gizelle’s gaze, he thinks she can tell.

“That’s her,” Gizelle nods once, and Brian lets himself smile a little wider.

Brian calls Patience that night, after Freddie finally shows up to rehearsals and the band is polishing the last few songs on their new album before they shut themselves into the studio for a few weeks to record it.

“ Good evening, this is Patience, ” the voice on the other end of the line answers after only two rings, soft and lilting despite the crackle of the phone line. Brian hesitates. “ Hello ?”

“Hello,” he finally finds his voice, “hi, this is Brian May, Gizelle Taylor gave me your number,” as if it could have been any other Gizelle , he’s already mentally berating himself, but he hears her laugh on the other end of the line, kind and relieved.

“ Oh, I’m so glad to hear from you! She told me you’d be calling, but I never expected it to be this soon,” she muses, and Brian grins.

“I can call back in a few days,” he offered, his smile clear in his words, “if this is too fast -” but she cuts him off quickly.

“ No, no! ” She’s quick to say, “ I’m not complaining at all, it’s lovely to hear from you! ”

Patience sounds like she’s smiling, like she’s genuine in her words, and Brian can feel himself flushing. She doesn’t ask him about Queen , and he doesn’t ask about her modeling, instead, they stumble through some small talk before he’s asking her out to dinner.

“Or lunch,’ he follows it up with quickly, “if you’d prefer -”

“ Dinner sounds wonderful ,” she assures, and there’s a moment of silence that hangs in the air between them before he asks, tentatively.

“How’s Friday?”

“ Friday, ” she pauses for a beat, and there’s the rustling of paper, perhaps a calendar, “ Friday’s perfect; does seven work ?”

“Seven sounds great,” he agrees, and she gives him the address of the hotel she’s staying at. The moment after he hangs up, he’s excited, and the moment after that, he’s nervous. He hasn’t really dated anyone since he and Chrissie had split up over a year ago. He’d thrown himself into his music and parenting his children, and making sure the divorce was amicable for the childrens’ sake. He wasn’t a nun by any means, he’d let Freddie take him to nightclubs a few more times than he’d like to admit to, had relieved his Fat Bottomed Girls days during the last tour once or twice, but dating had never been his intention.

So why - why - had he agreed to this?

Because he trusted Gizelle.

The next day, Thursday, he’s a ball of nerves when he walks into rehearsals, and Roger’s wearing a grin that’s all teeth.

“Don’t -” He heads Roger off before the blonde can even open his mouth. Roger’s smile widens. That’s the problem with having known each other for over fifteen years at this point, is that Roger can tell exactly what he’s feeling with just one glance; Roger of all people, should not be granted that privilege, Brain finds himself ruminating.

“You alright, dear?” Freddie asks, interest piqued, early for once, and Brian huffs a sigh.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine -”

“He’s got a date with ‘Zelle’s friend,” Roger crows, and Brian shoots him a filthy look.

“Good on you,” Freddie nods emphatically, walking over and clapping Brian on the shoulder, “she’s got wonderful taste in friends,” and both Roger and John behind him hum in agreement. Brain actually rolls his eyes at them.

“I’m sure she’s lovely, but that’s the problem, I’m… I’m just -” and he gestures to himself awkwardly, making an unflattering face.

“You’re a strapping young lad,” Freddie insists, and while Brian appreciates it, it’s not exactly what he meant.

“She’s going to love you,” the sincerity in Roger’s voice comes as a surprise, and when Brian turns to where he’s sitting on the drum risers, he sees Roger with one foot tucked up on his stool, expression warm and kind, “‘Zelle speaks very highly of Patience, and from what she’s said, you’re going to love her, and as long as you’re, you know, yourself or whatever, I’m sure she’ll love you too.” And he cleared his throat, averting his gaze and breaking the moment of honesty, but Brian was thankful for the pep talk. After a beat, letting the moment settle, Brain sighed deeply.

“Thanks, man,” he said with a half-smile, and Roger grinned back in acknowledgement, “but I don’t even know where to take her to dinner; I haven’t been on a real bloody date since -” and Chrissie’s name catches on his tongue but they all know, and don’t comment about it.

“I think ‘Zelle said she’s vegetarian,” Roger muses, and after a beat, he suggests a restaurant Brian’s only heard of by reputation, right in the middle of the city, telling him that even Gizelle recommended it. That night, he calls, books a private room at the fancy little restaurant, and heaves a nervous sigh the moment he hangs up.

The band has Friday off, so instead he lays about in bed until it’s almost eleven, spends a good few hours pottering around, occasionally gardening, reading a few articles his assistant had sent over a few days ago, and spends the better part of half an hour trying to pick an outfit.

Why had he chosen dinner ? There was no right answer to dressing for dinner! Lunch could be nice slacks and a button down, but dinner meant possibly a jacket, but what if he’s too overdressed? What if he doesn’t wear a jacket but he needs one to get into the restaurant, then he’ll look like a fool, what if --

When he picks Patience up, he’s wearing a well fitted suit that he’d had tailored for an event not too long ago. It’s dark blue and crisp, but he’s forgone a tie, leaving the top few buttons undone, he is a rock and roller, after all. He parks, steps into the hotel lobby, and tells the man at the front desk that he’s here for Patience, and they ring her, quietly letting her know that - and he gets a wide-eyed look from the bellhop, whose voice goes a little uncertain - Brian May is waiting for her.

Patience steps out of the elevator in a midnight blue dress, barely a few shades darker than Brian’s suit, and he’s pretty sure it’s fate. The moment she sees him, she’s smiling, and it’s blinding, all teeth and shining eyes and genuine excitement at seeing him, and Brian’s smiling too as she makes her way towards him, but all thoughts have left his head. She’s stunning in person; willowy and statuesque, the heels on her shoes make her the same height as him, which Brian finds he rather likes as she greets him with a hug and a kiss on either cheek.

“I wasn’t going for speechless,” she says with a soft laugh, and something connects in his brain very suddenly - she’s American , “but I think it’s a rather large compliment coming from you,” and finally Brian’s brain connects with his mouth.

“You look stunning,” and Patience’s answering smile was surprisingly abashed.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she tugged the lapel of his jacket for emphasis, a playful smile on her lips, and gestured for him to lead the way out. As he turns, Patience tucks her arm into his, and leans in for a moment, “we match.” And she sounds so pleased .

“Must be destiny,” Brian hears himself say back, and Patience hums thoughtfully.

“Must be,” she agrees with a smile.

Patience wears her emotions on her sleeve, Brian’s quick to pick up on; she’s direct but never unfairly blunt, and smiles like she’s never known hardship. She’s like sunshine , an interesting counterpoint to Gizelle, who seemed to take months to warm up to the band enough to even smile at them. When Brian asks about her connection to Gizelle, Patience’s smile turns fond.

“I’m very grateful to call her my friend,” she muses, “she’s a lot kinder in person than I was expecting.” And Brian nods with the faintest smile, knowing exactly what she means, but already seeing how this bright and joyful woman was able to so easily win Gizelle over.

They have dinner in the private room of the restaurant, both ordering the garlic and herb grilled eggplant, and when Brian tells a joke, Patience laughs so hard she snorts. It’s adorable .

As the dinner’s winding down, and Brian’s wracking his brains for ways to keep this night going, Patience turns a little nervous herself, fiddling with her napkin, avoiding his gaze.

“I fear I’ve double-booked myself tonight,” she admits, and Brian’s heart sinks at her words, “I have a friend at the Museum of Natural History, and he’d pulled some strings for me to let me in tonight after they’d closed,” she explains, and Brian’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “I mean,” Patience deliberates, looking up at him through her lashes, “unless you’d like to accompany me?” And she sounds hopeful. He’s pretty sure he’s never met anyone so earnest, it’s kind of refreshing.

“I’d- I’d love to,” Brian’s so quick to agree it’s like the words fall from him before is brain even registers what he’s saying; he’d been so worried that she’d just want to leave after dinner, just call it a night, despite how much she’d seemed to be enjoying herself, but here she was, lighting up, explaining how the museum wasn’t far away, easily within walking distance and -

Oh , he finds himself thinking with a gentle smile, she might be perfect .

When they exit the restaurant, however, there’s a blinding flash of light, and then their names being called, someone desperate for their attention. Patience freezes, smile turning still as she grabs Brian’s hand and power walks to the theatre. He realises too late that it’s the paparazzi, and when he turns to tell them to leave them alone, Patience, voice low and insistent, tells him to just leave it.

They make it to the museum in a matter of minutes, hand in hand, and the man who greets them at the gates smiles at them both with a warmth in his eyes, and offers them both a solid handshake.

“So good to see you again, Hall,” he tells Patience, and quickly introduces himself to Brian as Lawrence, and turns on his heel and leads them through the gates, into the museum.

“How do you know each other?” Brian asks, trying to make casual conversation, still holding Patience’s hand.

“He was my tutor in college,” Patience explains easily, and the man nodded in agreement, before adding.

“She’s terribly bright,” Lawrence adds, “in her final year, she helped me with my thesis for my Masters, which, speaking of -” he looks over his shoulder with an inquisitive look, and Patience rolls her eyes.

“I’m getting there, you know I’ve been going through some shit, my Masters is the least of my worries,” she waived him off, and Lawrence made a disapproving tut, but didn’t press her on it.

“Terribly bright,” Lawrence reiterates, “not much of an entomologist, but a fantastic help nonetheless.” At this, Brian turns his amused expression upon Patience, eyebrows raised in question.

“I studied biology,” she explains, though her voice is quiet, as if she’s a little embarrassed by that fact, “I mean, I am studying- am still studying- I’m a biologist?” Though it sounds like a question.

“ Fascinating ,” and he means it with his whole heart when he says it, though she seems to be surprised at his enthusiasm, “I never would have picked that.”

“Most people don’t,” Patience muses with a surprisingly rueful tone, looking around at the museum ground as they approached the front doors. Lawrence graciously let them inside, acting as though he wasn’t listening to their every word.

“I haven’t worked much on my thesis lately,” Brian mentions casually, “have been rather busy over the last few years, it can be so hard to find the time.”

“Masters?” Patience asks, in the exact same carefully casual tone that Brian was using.

“Doctorate,” Brian tells her with an air of humble pride, “astrophysics.” There’s a moment of silence, and when he looks at her, she’s regarding him with a newfound respect.

“Never would have picked that,” she grins a little, parroting his own words back at him. Brian shrugs easily, and gives her hand a squeeze.

“Most people don’t.”

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cagestark · 5 years

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Permission Chapter 4

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

This is for thatmarvelstan who had a rough day. Feel better <3

This will now be FIVE chapters long.

Read here on AO3

How do they go on?

That’s a question for yesterday, always for yesterday. Because today, they go on like this: by not talking about it. Tony isn’t sure if Peter even remembers the things he said during his drunken adventures. But Tony remembers, and he thinks to himself that there’s no way that he can see the kid and not see him, not hear him, the way he begged to cum, the way he whimpered Tony’s moniker. Thinking that this will finally force his hand, he orders in for dinner, sets up candles in the penthouse and plans to make an Official Move. Nothing else will do—he’s not ever going to let Peter slip through his fingers, not again.

But when the kid arrives at the Tower, he’s acting like nothing happened. He thanks Tony for picking him up from the bar in Brooklyn and then asks if maybe they could work on the suit for a while. It’s polite, informal but not at all romantic, and Tony can’t help it. He doubts. Maybe this isn’t something that Peter wants, not during the light of day. Maybe this lust is just something he feels at night under the covers in his bed. Why the fuck would Peter want a relationship with Tony? Except for Tony’s money, he doesn’t have much else going for him.

So they work on the suit. Dozens of floors away, a meal goes cold, a champagne grows flat, and by the time Tony arrives back up in the penthouse, the candles have burned themselves out. He cleans up, alone.

He goes on.

The next three times Peter messages him asking to cum, Tony gives back a simple, “Yes, you can cum.” It’s all that needs said. Anything else and he’s at risk of deluding himself.

He’s willing to take what he can get from Peter. The kid is more than capable of providing stimulating conversation, he’s fun to be around. That’s more than can be said for half the population. Maybe Peter isn’t interested in him romantically, but they can still be—Tony gags—friends. He tries to invite Peter over to do friendly things, things he might do with any of the Avengers. That’s how they end up in the penthouse on a Friday night, drinking beer (seltzer for Tony) and eating pizza (with all the toppings except for anchovies).

They talk shop, and classes, and friends. Peter tells him about Ned and MJ and what they’re each doing, and Tony listens, eager for every drop of this kid and his life. Tony wants to know it all, wants to savor it all, because he knows how easily it could disappear.

The movie that’s as background noise becomes inadvertently sexy, and even though they haven’t been paying any more than a quarter of their attention to it while they talk, when the sex scene arrives, the conversation dulls until they are both watching, sipping their drinks in silence save for the noises coming from the screen: pants and wet, sucking kisses, and heavy breaths.

“Look at that guy’s abs,” Tony mutters. “Come on. That’s a criminal offense.”

Peter snorts softly. “That’s one crime I would gladly be the victim of.”

“You and me, both, kid.”

It’s suggested that the woman on screen begins to give the man head, and Tony gets lost in the little things about it: the way the actor’s head falls back, how the lamp from beside the bed casts shadows in his collarbones, the furrow in the man’s brow even as one hand is offscreen and tangled in blond curls. There are noises, for Christ’s sake. Fuck, he misses that for himself.

“FRIDAY,” Tony asks. “Is this pornography? Did you slip the wool over my aging eyes and turn me to the X-Rated channels?”

“This is rated R, boss, which according to the Motion Picture Association of America means that—”

“Okay babe, thanks,” Tony says. He takes another sip from his drink to wet his mouth. He’s hyperaware of Peter next to him, just a couch cushion away watching this with him. The kid is sitting completely still, and Tony can’t tell the expression on his face out of the corner of his eye, so he turns to look and—

Oh. Peter is flushed, mouth just a little parted. His eyes are glossy and glued to the screen, and (when Tony’s gaze naturally falls) he is hard. Completely hard. Unmistakably hard. Tony’s brain does a 404 ERROR. Page Not Found. Then Peter shoves his plate onto his lap (not that the tent in his pants allows for much more than him to hold it awkwardly above his erection).

“Sorry,” Peter mutters.

“Yikes—don’t be. Don’t be! That’s—natural. I’m sorry.” Tony looks back to the screen. Fuck. Now he’s even more aware of Peter, of how the kid can no longer sit still. His breaths are just barely audible, and even though Tony’s head is turned towards the television, he doesn’t see what’s on screen. Every one of his senses is attuned to the younger man next to him.

Peter sits his plate aside. “I’ve got—uh—bathroom.”

Tony feels there’s fire just underneath his skin. He waves a hand, not daring to look. “You don’t have to go.”

“Trust me, I really do—”

“Yeah, I can see that. I just meant that—never mind.” Tony bites his tongue. What is he fucking thinking, almost asking Peter to stay? To jerk off beside him? Maybe the kid is just going in there to calm down, splash some water on his goddamn face. Maybe if Tony wasn’t so hopelessly infatuated and lustful, his mind wouldn’t jump to such dirty conclusions.

“What is it?” Peter asks. He sits back down, gingerly.

Tony still can’t look. “It was a stupid idea, kid. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worried! I mean—I don’t think you’ve ever had a stupid idea, Mr. Stark.”

“That’s a gross miscalculation, Pete, trust me.”

“I’ve got good judgement,” Peter says. “Tell me and let me decide.”

“I was just going to say—if you were going to go take care of that the old-fashioned way, you could just stay. I mean, you’ll be asking me for permission, anyway, won’t you?”

“You—want to watch me jerk off?” Peter’s voice goes high and squeaky. Dogs all over the New York area hear it, and it makes Tony wince. God, the kid is fucking blunt. But that’s a good thing; at least Tony can trust him to call him out on his bullshit.

“See? Poor, very poor idea—”

“You want to watch me?”

Tony’s mouth opens. He closes it. There’s something about the kid’s tone of voice, something that itches at the back of Tony’s brain though he can’t get a finger on it. Against his better judgement, he risks a glance, and he finds that Peter has turned completely towards him until his back rests against the arm rest at his end of the couch, one leg pulled up onto the cushions. He’s still hard. But it’s his expression: eyes lidded, cheeks still flushed (with embarrassment? arousal?). It wipes Tony’s brain clean like an eraser on a chalkboard.

“I—” Tony begins. “Do you—want me to want to watch you?”

“Do you want me to want you to want to watch me? I mean, you had a point. I’d just be texting you in a minute anyway—not that—not that I just last a minute! I mean—fuck.”

Tony can’t help but laugh. Peter scrubs his palms over his eyes, but he’s smiling. It takes some of the tension out of things, and Tony feels himself slipping out of his own skin and into the roll of Playboy. It’s what the world expects of him, and it’s useful here, it’s easy. Standing, Tony crosses to the armchair where he sits, reclining, holding his glass in his hand. He’s a little hard himself, though Peter can’t probably tell that thanks to positioning and the dark pants. He lifts a leg to rest his ankle on his knee.

“Go on, then,” Tony says. His voice comes out low and dark without asking him for his input, but it’s fine. It makes Peter gulp, throat bobbing as he shifts to take up the entire couch. Laying down the way he is, his erection is even more obvious, downright obscene. This is a picture Tony never thought he would see, one that he never wants to forget.

Peter reaches down and gingerly unbuttons his pants, sliding the zipper down over the bump of his full cock. His eyes slip closed until Tony snaps his fingers, the sound like a firecracker in the quiet room. Peter’s eyes widen when he realizes that Tony wants him to maintain eye contact. He whines, tucking his chin to his chest like he can hide from the older man’s bald gaze.

“You can stop,” Tony says. “Any time you want. No hard feelings.”

Taking a deep breath, Peter shucks his pants and underwear down past the curve of his ass, halfway down his thighs. Both hands link fingers, resting on his stomach which is heaving for breath. Tony takes his time examining every inch of Peter: he is average at best, cut, with a flushed cock that curves straight towards his flat belly. He is completely hairless—a personal preference, or another habit leftover from his time with Quentin Beck?

A noise slips from Peter’s throat, luring Tony’s eyes back to his own. The kid’s face looks tortured, eyes fluttering, mouth red and open. His knuckles are white from how he’s clasping his hands together—and oh. He’s waiting for Tony to tell him he can.

Tony nods. Peter’s eyes shut in brief relief, only to open a moment later. One hand drifts down but hesitates. “Pretend I’m not even here,” Tony advises.

Peter says something under his breath—and fuck stupid normal human hearing, because Tony can’t make out what it is. Then Peter reaches out with one thin finger, brushing the pad of his fingertip over the head of his own cock where precum beads. Tony can see from his seat the way the wetness slicks Peter’s finger. When he pulls it away, a line of sticky cum clings like a web between cock and finger, and then the boy brings it to his mouth to lick it off. Tony’s cock jumps, no avoiding the truth that he is hard himself right now. Peter can’t tell from his vantage point, not with the way Tony has his ankle perched up on his knee, but how Tony plans to avoid him noticing afterwards, he has no idea.

Peter returns his hand to brush his lax fingers over his cock, trailing them up one side and down the other. He’s a tease—to Tony, but mostly to himself. It’s clear from the way his cock jumps and spits precum that the kid is painfully turned on, but still he doesn’t take himself in hand. Bypassing his cock, he takes his hairless balls into his palm and rolls them, rubbing a thumb against them tenderly. Then he tightens his grip, tighter, until Tony is wincing in sympathy across the room, until the kid whimpers, gritting his teeth. From the way his cock leaks, it’s a good pain. Jesus, the kid is kinky.

Both hands disappear up Peter’s graphic tee, and it’s clear from the way he arches his back that’s he’s playing with his nipples. Are they the same color as his cock? Tony has to know, so he snaps his fingers again until the kid is watching, ears perked like a dog waiting for directions. After motioning with a finger, the kid gets the idea. He tucks the shirt up under his chin, and fuck is he built. Abs—a literal six pack, better than the one on television. Besides a smattering of hair leading down towards his erection, the kid is hairless even on his chest. Normally, Tony prefers hair, the masculinity of it, but there is no need for reminding. Peter is both masculine and feminine, a soft, hard balance.

His nipples are flat, just a shade lighter than his cock. The younger man teases himself here, too, dragging his fingers back and forth, narrowly avoiding where his nipples have tightened into desperate buds. When he finally drags a gentle thumb over one, he shivers, hips jerking upwards even as a soft little sound escapes his mouth. Tony’s own mouth waters. He clenches his jaw, swallowing it down.

He starts a rhythm of pinching and then soothing the ache with gentle fingers. A litany of noises escapes him, whimpers, whines. The head of his cock goes shiny with precum, and Tony’s own aches between his legs, trapped awkwardly in his pants. He doesn’t touch it—he pays it no mind. Peter’s heels dig into the couch cushion, socked toes curling. His eyes are squeezed shut, but Tony has mercy on him for now. It gives him a chance to not have to worry about schooling his hungry facial expressions. There’s never been a more tempting sight than Peter on this couch, hips twitching with aborted thrusts against nothing but air.

“Could you cum like this?” Tony asks. His voice is rough from arousal, though he hopes it will come off as from disuse.

Peter’s eyes open, glassy and dazed. “No sir,” he says, tongue thick, words slurred like he’s drunk though he’s barely finished a single beer. He looks like he hardly knows what he’s saying, like it’s coming out of his mouth unbidden. “Not unless you told me I could.”

Tony inhales, slow, lets it out slower.

When Peter finally grows desperate enough, he leaves one hand to pluck at his tender nipples and the other smooths down his abs towards his cock. It’s just a little more than a handful, and the noise that is torn from Peter’s throat at the first touch has Tony’s eyes slipping shut. He clenches his fingers, around the glass in his hand and where they are curled into a fist on the armrest. He will not touch himself—this is just, just two friends, just Peter finding relief and Tony (fuck, what the fuck is Tony doing, what are either of them doing?) supervising.

Peter begins a steady rhythm. Sometimes he leaves his fist steady and then jerks his hips up, fucking into his hand. It looks like torture, like the most difficult way to get off, which is probably why a kinky little shit like Peter enjoys it so much. There’s no need to spit in his palm, not when his cock is constantly leaking, lubricating the way. Sometimes, Peter stops altogether and just uses the pad of his middle finger to rub at his frenulum. His cries are nearly constant, coming with every breath he takes. He’s the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen.

And there is no way they can just be friends. Not when Tony feels like this. It will kill him, he thinks. And he’ll have to let it, rather than hurt this kid. But those are thoughts he packs up and puts away, because Peter is back to fisting his cock, quicker now, working his hand and his hips.

“Mr. Stark—” Peter cries out, voice tortured. “Can I cum? Please?”

And Tony says:

“No.”

@flowersandteeth @starkeroverload @prettyboy-parker @metametalina @st-arker @darkobsidianquill @typing123 @ironspiidey @i-don’t-know-what-this-is @thefaultinourstarker @livingbutnotalivex3 @starkerparadise @anyabxrns @fedupdadtm @alanaaw88 @idntwantausername @softstarkerstuff @kiaorastarker @thirsty-for-starker @thotticusmaxximus @sadbumblingmess @kawaiioverofanimu @katzenbaby1 @css1992 @99stark @spn-samifer @gimme-the-filthy-hcs @inmyfeelxngs @bros-before-ghosts @wandering-night19 @twixen93 @yeahishipthatsowhat @lonleystarker @nanibanani10 @deliciousflapbanditfarm @another-starker-hoe @von—gelmini @babyboy-peterparker @petertonytomrobert @goodtimesstarker @bshamm @nemeiel @audreyintheuniverse @silkystark @iamastarkerfan @plsstopgivingpetertrauma

#starker #nff #author is rushing this because she's here for a good time not a long time #*hides*

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bluesey-182 · 5 years

Text

We Have To Stop Meeting Like This– Chapter 4

holy shit i did it, i finished chapter 4. what?! oh my god.

important notes on this chapter, please read: so as some of you may know, I have a seizure disorder and it’s been getting out of hand again lately which is part of the reason this update took so long. i’m saying this because i needed to vent about my frustration and it ended up being in this chapter in the form of a character having a seizure. i know it doesn’t have anything to do with the story but, hey, it’s my fic. it should be noted that because my seizures are a result of trauma they present differently than a typical epileptic seizure, so the writing in this is drawing solely from my own personal experience.

I hope you enjoy this chapter because (while incredibly difficult) it was a lot of fun for me to write.

Here is chapter one, chapter two, and chapter three, as well as the link to the fic on ao3.

Jude was not a fan of Sundays. Sundays meant family dinner, which meant seeing her adoptive father (Vivi’s biological father) which always resulted in a screaming match between him and Vivi. Sundays meant seeing their judgemental step-mother who was convinced the twins would corrupt her son who Jude knew from experience was not as innocent as he seemed.

Sundays meant dressing up and proper behavior and bit-back anger and–the oldest and most tiresome charade of them all–pretending like she didn’t know that no matter what she did, Madoc would always be at least a little bit disappointed in her.

This Sunday, however, would be made worse by the fact that Jude was not talking to Taryn after the previous night’s events.

She had, of course, confronted her twin about her weasel of a boyfriend (as well as about the fact that Taryn had left Jude in the dark about the existence of said boyfriend) when Taryn returned home early in the morning. Jude raged to her sister about Locke playing games with them, expecting her sister to take her side and hate the manipulative prick as a team, and watched with satisfaction as her sister cringed away from her words. She had believed, for a moment, that Taryn now hated Locke just as much as she did and together they would destroy him. (As you do with your sister.) But then Taryn had simply said, “I know.”

Jude was speechless for a long moment. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“I knew what he was doing,” she admitted, “he wanted to see if I was loyal enough to stick with him even if he messed with you, and if I could be trusted not to tell you whatever he asked me to keep secret for him.”

“Taryn, do you seriously not see how fucked up that is?!”

“He’s just a little weird.”

“Weird?! He’s straight up a freak! How could you let him do this to us? How could you do this me?”

Taryn’s face was turning red but she refused to look Jude in the eyes. “Don’t call him a freak.”

“So you’re really just gonna take his side on this, then.” It was a question, though Jude didn’t say it like one.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“And I’m your sister! Are you serious right now?!”

“Jude, stop.”

Jude’s anger was boiling over and choking her. She did as Taryn asked, but only because she was too angry to think of anything else to say. She stormed out of the room and slammed her bedroom door with enough force to rattle the doorframe.

Hours later as the two were getting into the Jeep to go to their dreaded family dinner, Jude still refused to speak to Taryn.

They pulled up to Madoc’s large estate in silence. Before the car even came to a complete stop, Jude was hopping down from the passenger seat and stomping up the walkway to the front door. She let herself in, kicked off her shoes, and went in search of Vivi while Taryn tried to catch up.

Jude found her oldest sister playing video games with her half brother Oak in his expansive room on the first floor. Vivi flashed her a quick smile before returning her attention back to the screen. There was a lot of aggressive button smashing and shouting from the both of them and it was clear they had no attention to spare for her. Still, Jude leaned against the doorframe and watched until GAME OVER flashed across the screen.

“You know,” Jude said as Vivi finally turned her full attention on her, “you could have at least given him a chance to win this time.”

Vivi flashed her teeth in an evil smile. “Nope. I was the undefeated champion against you and Taryn in every game we ever played and now I have to be the undefeated champion against Oak.”

“You were only undefeated because you were a cheater.”

“Was not!”

“Hm. And what do you call all the times you tripped Taryn in every race we ever ran?”

Again Vivi flashed that wicked grin before rising from the bean bag currently consuming her on the floor. “That,” she said, “was an accident.”

Just then Jude felt the presence of someone else joining her in the doorway and looked over her shoulder to find her step-mother Oriana eyeing her suspiciously, as if Jude’s proximity to Oak had tainted his being already. With an inward groan, Jude forced herself to face away from Oriana before she could see her eye-roll. Vivi gave her a sympathetic smile that felt more like pity.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Oriana said.

“Already?” asked Vivi.

“Yes, well,” Oriana was not looking at Jude in a way that was obvious she wasn’t looking. “The twins were late.” This time Jude did roll her eyes in full view of her step-mom and Oriana noticed it. “Come, Oak, let’s get cleaned up for dinner.”

Jude moved out of the way as Oak skipped passed her into the hallway with his mother in tow, leaving Jude and Vivi in the vacated space.

“Spill,” Vivi demanded once the two were out of ear shot.

“What?”

“Something’s bothering you. Spill.”

“I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not.” Vivi closed the space between them, pulled Jude the rest of the way into the room, and closed the door. Nevermind the fact that this wasn’t either one of the bedrooms. Against her best protests, Jude was still pulled down into one of the bean bags on the floor as Vivi moved the second one to face her. “Talk to me,” she said more softly this time.

Jude told her everything. By the end of the story there came a knock on the door. As if summoned by the use of her name too many times, Taryn peeked her head around the cracked open door.

“Madoc wants you guys in the dining room,” she mumbled without looking at Jude.

“Sure thing, Beetlejuice,” Jude shot back.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jude shoved passed her twin rather roughly and tried to bury the pang of guilt that arose when her sister stumbled into the wall upon having her balance thrown off.

Madoc was already at the table when Jude entered the dining room. Oriana sat beside him with her back perfectly straight to the point of it looking uncomfortable, but that was Oriana–a perfect portrait of propriety. Oak, on the other hand, was throwing bits of dinner roll at the dog lying on the floor beside him. The dog didn’t seem to mind as it caught the food out of the air time after time with perfect accuracy, much to Oak’s delight.

Following her entrance came Vivi and Taryn. Their heads were bent conspiratorially but whatever words were being exchanged quickly cut off upon their arrival to the room. While Taryn slipped passed Jude with her gaze set determinedly to the plush carpet, Vivi looked at Jude with an expression that promised they’d be talking later.

That should be fun.

With a huff, Jude threw herself down into the seat beside Oak at the table and quickly became the new target of his food throwing. Oriana pretended not to notice.

“Oak, that’s enough,” Madoc ordered. The boy immediately stopped, though Jude saw him sneak another piece of bread under the table for the dog. “Stop feeding Bosco table food, too.“

So he had noticed that after all.

Oak deflated ever so slightly but not before Jude caught the flash of his adolescent smirk.

"Now, shall we eat?” Madoc asked, though it wasn’t a question. As if they had been waiting by the closed kitchen door for a queue, the cooks Madoc employed (he was that kind of rich) swooped gracefully into the room with trays of food. Plates of chicken and bowls of some kind of soup were set before all of them, as well as central platters of roasted vegetables and potatoes. All of it was fancy and unnecessary and Jude found herself wanting to just eat McDonald’s instead. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with family dinner night.

While Madoc attempted to wade through the usual topics of conversation–how is school going? what’s new in your lives? have you been taking care of yourselves? yada, yada, yada–the girls responded with only mild interest while shooting glances at each other across the table. Vivi, either being oblivious to the awkwardness or simply not caring, only shoveled food into her mouth happily while occasionally throwing food back at Oak when he attempted to get it into her water glass.

“Alright, that’s enough.” The abrupt clatter of Madoc’s silverware against his plate brought Jude suddenly out of the fog she’d been stewing in since dinner began. Madoc leaned back in his chair in a show of false calm and he darted his calculating gaze between the twins. “Talk."

When neither girl supplied a response, Madoc raised his eyebrows and leaned forward to steeple his interlaced hands on the table. "Talk,” he demanded louder.

They began speaking at the same time. Their voices collided together and fought for dominance as Jude raged about Taryn’s betrayal as well as her douche of a boyfriend, and Taryn yelled about Jude’s disrespect for said douche of a boyfriend. Vivi and Oak watched with amusement, Oriana pretending nothing was happening as she continued to eat, and Madoc narrowed his eyes as the girls turned their words from him to each other.

“-so disrespectful!” Taryn shouted.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to-,” Jude shot back.

“-just jealous!”

“-is a massive prick! Why can’t you see that?”

“Shut up, just shut u-!"

Finally, Madoc broke up the shouting with the clearing of his throat. Though it wasn’t loud, it was a sound the girls had grown familiar with over the years and they quickly lapsed into silence. "That,” he said calmly but authoritatively, “is quite enough of that."

"You’re the one that asked,” Vivi grumbled under her breath.

“What was that, Vivienne?”

“I said you’re the one that asked. You can’t tell them to talk and then decide they’re done right after.”

“Really? You’re giving me the attitude again tonight?"

"I don’t recall ever stopping."

As with every previous dinner the two quickly dissolved into an argument. Vivi resented Madoc for running off when he found out their mother was pregnant with Vivi, and she resented him even more for only deciding he wanted her after their mother was killed in a car accident along with Jude and Taryn’s father. Years of anger still had no resolution and so the two fought nearly relentlessly.

Completely ignoring the volume already rising in the dining room, Taryn began shouting at Jude again. The noise from all three voices crowded in her mind and her anger and frustration continued to build. She hated these family dinners, hated the years she spent in this house, hated that Vivi could treat Madoc like shit and still have everything handed to her while Taryn and Jude had to claw for every ounce of respect and attention from their adoptive father, hated how Taryn had hurt her, hated how Locke had used her. Suddenly the room began to grow warm. Tremors started in Jude’s fingertips and spread up her arms. Taryn was asking if she was listening to her. Vivi was mocking Madoc in the way of a child, throwing his own words back at him. Madoc was telling her to stop acting like a child, Oriana was telling Oak to go to his room as he continued to throw food from the table at the dog. And then–in a single heartbeat– the voices stopped making sense.

Jude vaguely processed the sound of Bosco beginning to bark as the old familiar feeling like her brain was turning to ice and melting down the side of her face finally made her realize what was happening.

"Fuck,” she whispered.

Oriana scolded her for swearing in front of Oak just as Jude collapsed to the floor and the seizure pulled her under.

——–

Sometimes the worst part of a seizure was the reaction from everyone else afterwards. It also didn’t help that this was Jude’s first seizure in over eight years.

When they returned from the hospital Madoc announced that Jude would not be going home. Instead she was forced to stay at Madoc’s where he could keep an eye on her in case she seized again and, although she tried to protest, Jude was in too much pain to win an argument over it.

She hated being babied. Hated how she was hardly allowed to get up to use the restroom without Madoc jumping to his feet thinking she was going to collapse right there. More than anything she hated having to sleep in her old room that she had spent so many years trying to get away from. The room had that odd feeling of belonging to someone else. She hadn’t slept in this bed since she turned 18 three years ago but she could tell everything was still regularly cleaned. This was her room, but it also wasn’t.

The Jude that slept in this bed wept for her parents every night for years. The Jude that slept in this bed fought for Madoc’s approval before realizing she’d never get it. The Jude that slept in this bed used to lay side by side with her twin sister on most nights, talking and laughing and crying until they fell asleep. She was not that Jude anymore. This was not her home.

Finally, after hours of Madoc watching her like a hawk, he relaxed enough to let her be alone. She collapsed onto the old mattress and stared up at the plastic stars glued to the ceiling above. Every part of her hurt. Parts of her she didn’t know could hurt were aching in a constant, throbbing pain. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to be in her own apartment. Instead she was here.

Madoc didn’t let Jude leave the next day. Nor the next. By the third day she was losing her mind. She was fine, she insisted–but Madoc refused to listen. She was under his watch until he was sure she wouldn’t have another episode, but as the hours went by it felt like he would never be convinced.

——-

Jude was going stir crazy. It wouldn’t be long until she started climbing the walls.

She had to get out of here.

Thankfully her chance at escape came around when Oriana insisted on Madoc accompanying her to pick up her customised dress for some event or another they were attending in the near future. Oriana, having her odd dislike of Jude, insisted that the trip be a couple’s only outing. They seemed to take forever to put their shoes on and find the keys and do all the other BS that came along with leaving the house, and by the end of it Jude was ready to shove them out the door and lock it behind them.

Finally, blissfully, they left. For the first time in days Jude found herself alone and free–now she just had to get out of this infernal house. She ran up the stairs two at a time to get to her room and dove for her phone before she realized she had no idea who to call. She didn’t want to talk to Taryn or go home after everything that had happened, Vivi would be just as bad as Madoc watching her and treating her like she would break, she didn’t have many friends. She did not want to discuss the events of the last few days and anyone who knew her well would ask about it.

There was one person she could call… Someone who wouldn’t know enough to see something was off and pester her about it, someone who probably wouldn’t even care anyway even if he did notice something was off.

Stealing herself, she scrolled through her contacts until she found the one he had put into her phone and clicked CALL before she could change her mind.

The phone rang once, twice. By the third ring Jude was starting to lose her nerve and was about to hang up when she heard the other line go live.

“Hello?” His voice sounded sleepy, like he had just woken up despite the fact it was nearly four in the afternoon. She tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the gravel of his morning voice.

“Uh, hi,” she said lamely

There was a long pause and she imagined him pulling his phone away to look down at the odd number on his screen before he finally said, “Who is this?"

"It’s Jude.”

“Oh,” she heard his voice shift into a lighter tone, though she couldn’t place exactly what else she was hearing in his words. “Well, hello there. I see you finally called me.”

“Yeah, I just thought I should probably check in on you and make sure you haven’t crashed into anything else lately. You know, for public safety reasons.”

His laugh was immediate and unrestrained. She heard rustling on the other end of the line like he was sitting up in bed. “I’ll have you know that I’m a perfectly adequate driver when I want to be.”

"I don’t believe that for a second.”

"Ouch. That hurt me, dear Jude. I have been wounded to my core.”

"Oh please, you don’t have feelings.”

Cardan laughed again. It definitely didn’t make something in her chest flutter.

“So why are you really calling?” Jude would deny till the end of her days that her heart didn’t sink a bit at the thought that perhaps she was bothering him, that perhaps the other night was a fluke and he didn’t enjoy her company enough to see her again. That maybe she shouldn’t have called at all.

But what did she care, right?

“Uh,” she started again, “Well I think you should buy me some fries again.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because you clearly have money and I’m hungry and if I have to be in this house for a second more I’m going to set the curtains on fire.” She hadn’t meant to be so honest with that last bit but there was no taking it back. Her cheeks heated.

“Interesting,” he said with no indication to his thoughts on the matter. She cleared her throat in the long silence that followed and was about to hang up when Cardan finally spoke again.

“Alright,“ he said, drawing out the word. "I’m also hungry, so I’ll meet you at the diner in an hour."

“Uh, actually… Could you pick me up?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll die in a fiery accident with me behind the wheel?” He teased.

“Terrified. But I don’t have a ride.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line. “Fine, I’ll see you in an hour still.”

She tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sending you an address now.”

"And Jude?” he said as she was about to hang up the phone.

She brought it back up to her ear. “Yeah?"

There was a drawn out pause like he was considering his words. For a moment Jude wondered if he had hung up already and she had just imagined his voice. But then he said, quietly, like a confession, "I’m glad you called."

Before she could say anything, the arrogance had slipped back into his voice as he teased, "It’s a relief to know that I’m still irresistible.”

Jude barked a laugh that surprised even her. “Intolerable, more like.”

“Keep telling yourself that, dear Jude.” And with that he hung up the phone.

——–

An hour and a half later–turns out that along with being a terrible driver, Cardan was also not punctual–a dented BMW pulled up in front of Madoc’s house blasting some indecipherable music that was quickly turned down as the car rolled to a stop. Through the windshield Jude could see Cardan lean over and pop open the passenger side door with ease.

Must be nice to have long arms, she thought to herself because, owing her official height to just under five feet and three inches, she would have had to crawl into the passenger seat to open the door from the inside. Needless to say she would not have looked as graceful and at ease as Cardan had.

“I hit a cat on the way here,” Cardan said in way of greeting as Jude bent her head to duck into the car. At his words she froze in horror. The bastard had the nerve to laugh at whatever expression was on her face and suddenly she remembered why she hated him. “I’m kidding,” he laughed.

“You’re an ass.”

“So you’ve told me. Now are you going to stand there halfway out of the car or are you going to get in?”

Jude made to answer when headlights down the street caught her eye. “Shit,” she breathed as Madoc’s car began pulling into the drive. Quickly she hurled herself the rest of the way into the car and slammed the door. “Drive.”

“What’s going on?”

“Drive, Cardan!”

He floored it without further questioning. That is, until they were a few blocks away from the house. “So you wanna tell me what that was about?”

“I didn’t want to deal with my dad.”

“Ah, I see,” he replied in a way that said he really did see. Jude studied his face for a further reaction but found only a carefully blank face. Too late she realized she had stared for a second too long and Cardan’s lips quirked up in a smirk. Heat flooded her cheeks as she quickly tore her gaze away and stared out the window. Ignoring the awkwardness she was feeling, or perhaps not sharing in it, Cardan simply turned the stereo back up to near deafeningly volumes and began to sing along horribly. She turned to inform him he had the musical talent of a dying seal when he flashed his eyes in her direction in a conspiratorial sort of way–he was singing that bad on purpose in an attempt to make her laugh.

Well too bad. He’d have to try harder than that.

With the music up so loud she almost didn’t hear her phone going off. If it hadn’t been for the vibration of it she would have missed it entirely. Cardan apparently noticed it too for he reached for the stereo to turn down the volume but, seeing the caller ID flashing on her screen, Jude waved his hand away and rejected the call from Madoc. Though he didn’t say anything, Cardan raised his eyebrows at her before returning his attention back to the road.

“Wait, is this guy saying he’s the original loser?” Jude inquired as she finally started processing the ruckus playing through the speakers.

“Yes, he is. And if you have a problem with my music then you can take it up with my assistant.” With this he motioned his hand towards an oddly shaped skeleton figurine balanced on the dashboard–his assistant, apparently–and the volume, much to Jude’s irritation, increased even more as Cardan took a sharp, heart-stopping turn into the parking lot of the diner while simultaneously cranking the radio and head-banging.

Jesus Christ, she was never getting in a car with him again.

The car came to a stop off kilter in a parking space and Jude quickly vacated even before the engine was turned off. Cardan soon followed through the driver’s side window. Like the first time she saw him do it, Jude gave him a weird look over the top of the car and he reacted with only a wicked grin.

“It’s charming,” he said, indicating the window.

Jude rolled her eyes. “It’s something.”

The inside of the diner was surprisingly empty. When the hostess approached Jude and Cardan at the door she explained why. “Sorry kids,” she rasped with a voice that was clearly deteriorated after years of heavy smoking, “we’re closing early tonight. We’re not seating anyone else.”

“Oh, no problem,” Jude responded automatically even as her stomach rumbled in protest. Through the corner of her eye she saw Cardan’s eyes flick towards her stomach before jerking back to her face as he tried to suppress a laugh. Apparently the sounds of her stomach were louder than she thought.

Once back outside Jude was trying to console herself about the failed attempt for food when she felt Cardan’s hand gently grasp her arm. She spun around, confused, but instead of looking at her he was looking at something over her shoulder.

“How old are you?” He asked out of nowhere.

Jude was confused as all hell but answered, “Uh, twenty-one. Why?”

“Because we,” he spoke while backing up towards the car, “are going to the bar.”

“And what if I don’t want to drink?”

“Then I will get smashed alone while you eat bar food.”

She hesitated while weighing the pros and cons of the situation but as her stomach began to rumble again it was decided that bar food was better than no food, and drunk Cardan couldn’t be all that more annoying than sober Cardan, right?

Jude got in the car.

——–

In contrast to the near empty diner, the bar was packed. Given that it was a Wednesday night it would have been surprising had the bar not been located in the center of a college town. Cardan managed to snag a high-top table in the middle of the room as soon as they entered and proceeded to order a complicated drink order that Jude followed with a request for nachos.

“You sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Cardan asked as the bar waiter wrote down their orders. “Your mood when I picked up was practically shouting for a mixed drink.”

Jude stared him down, contemplating his words, while he watched back with a crooked, lazy grin pulling at the corners of his beautiful mouth. “You know what?“ She answered in challenge to his look. "Fuck it. I’ll have one of whatever he ordered, please,” she directed this last bit to the waiter because she could, in fact, use a drink after the events of the last few days.

"Oh darling,” Cardan teased with his low sultry voice. “I don’t think you’ll be able to handle what I’m drinking.”

Egotistical dick. “Stop being an ass."

Cardan simply winked when Jude rolled her eyes at him. Oh, how she hated how her heart skipped a beat.

When their drinks were delivered minutes later Cardan took his glass and threw all of its contents back in a single go. His eyes, still holding whatever challenge they had issued between them, held steady to hers until his drink was gone. With a clatter he slammed the glass back onto the tabletop and leaned forward with his chin cradled lazily in his palm, elbow on the table, eyebrows raised in anticipation of her response.

God, she really did hate him. Leaning across the table so their faces were inches away from each other, she whispered, "I hate you.” Once again his mouth split into the wicked grin and, before she could second guess herself, she took her own glass and took a hearty swallow of the foul drink. Fire shot down her throat, closing off her airway for an uncomfortable second, before the liquid settled in her stomach like a burst of flames, but she refused to give Cardan the satisfaction of seeing her choke. Instead she returned his raised-browed look across the table and set her features with stubborn determination.

After a moment, Cardan laughed. It was the most irritating response he could have made and yet the sound of it made the liquor dance in her stomach.

“You’re something else, you know that?” His voice was playful. Still, the words rubbed her the wrong way.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She growled defensively.

Cardan leaned back with his hands spread out in surrender, though the grin on his face took away the effect of the action. “You’re the scariest person in any room and you’re not afraid to make sure people know it."

Was she the scariest person in any room? It was some comfort to know that she gave off "don’t fuck with me” vibes. Still, she didn’t know how to respond to Cardan’s words. So instead she saved herself from having to respond by taking another shot of her drink. Somehow it burned more the second time. She coughed.

“God how can you drink this shit?” She asked once the coughing fit subsided. Cardan, on his part, laughed through the whole thing.

“I’m a trained professional.”

“Sounds like a pretentious way of saying you drink too much.”

“Maybe so.” A shrug. “But you can’t prove anything."

"Oh yeah?” She waved the waiter back over to their table and requested two more drinks–never mind the fact that her glass was still a quarter of the way full. “If you get drunk faster than me then you’re obviously all talk.”

“Jude, are you challenging me to see if I can outdrink you?"

Instead of a verbal response Jude narrowed her eyes at him and tilted up her chin. A burst of laughter came from deep within his chest.

"It’s your funeral, then."

——-

Hours later they were several drinks in. Jude was teetering on the edge of wasted. Cardan, on the other hand, was putting his money where his mouth was and was only slightly tipsy. Jude hated to lose.

"So, Jude,” Cardan started conversationally, “do you have a last name?”

“No it was stolen by faeries.” She slurred only slightly.

“Oh, you little liar,” he purred.

“You little… prick. How are you not drunk?”

“I told you.” He jammed his thumb towards his own chest. “Professional.” In spite of his otherwise carefully composed behavior his arm slipped off the edge of the table when he tried to lean against the surface. Jude laughed, a bubbly but taunting laugh that she would never have made while sober.

“So you are drunk!” She didn’t know why but this brought her a great sense of victory.

Cardan frowned down at the table like it was personally responsible for his slip up, making Jude laugh harder until a few small snorts escaped. “Perhaps a bit,” he muttered.

“Did you eat all my nachos?!” Jude gasped as she became aware of the empty plate sitting in the middle of the table.

“No, I’m afraid that was all you.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t lie."

"No?"

"Nope.” That grin that had been making Jude’s stomach flutter all night returned to his face where–she thought–it belonged.

“Prove it,” she challenged.

“How?"

"I don’t know. Tell me a truth.”

“My name is Cardan.”

“Obviously.”

“I’m a little bit drunk."

"I can tell.”

“And you’re beautiful."

At that Jude was completely caught off guard. Trying to recover quickly before he noticed she stammered, "Well… now I know you really are a liar."

"And why is that?"

Was the bar getting warmer? “Because,” she started but realized she was too drunk for this question. Hoping he was also too drunk to notice her avoiding the question Jude drank the dregs in her near empty glass so she wouldn’t have to answer. When she finally worked up the courage to look back up at Cardan he was smiling at her. This smile was different than the others. It was the smile of someone who didn’t know they were smiling–completely unrestrained and goofy in nature. The bar definitely was getting warmer and Jude’s face was on fire.

“Duarte,” she said into the silence.

Cardan was appropriately confused by this random outburst and (sadly) his smile slipped as he furrowed his brows. “What?”

“You asked if I had a last name. It’s Duarte.”

“Jude Duarte,” he tried it out, dragging her name out in a way that felt like a caress. “Hello Jude Duarte.” His smile came back. “I’m Cardan Greenbriar. Would you like to dance with me?”

“What?”

“Dance with me.” This time the smile that came back to his face was the cocky one she wanted to slap off his face. Or, possibly, do other things to get it off his face. “I promise not to step on your toes.”

Jude felt at a loss. She looked around her at the other patrons of the bar. At this hour everyone else was just as drunk–if not more so–than her and Cardan. They were shouting and moving around and throwing things at each other and paying absolutely no mind to the two of them. Still. “No one else is dancing.”

“And?” When she spun her head back around to face him he was again leaning on the table with his chin cradled in his palm. Watching her with the single-minded focus of a cat. He was challenging her. But something in his eyes made her heart flutter.

Fine. She wasn’t going to back down from another challenge. “Fine.”

A crooked grin much like the Cheshire cat’s dominated his face. Without a moment’s hesitation he was on his feet, taking her hands, and pulling her up with him. Before she could process anything, Cardan had her in his arms, his face inches away from hers reeking like alcohol as his breathing got heavier, pupils blown wide while he looked into her face. He really was quite tall and having to tilt her head so much while this intoxicated was making her dizzy. Without thinking, she rested her head against his chest as they danced to the song playing too loudly over the bar speakers.

“If I let go, would you hold on? Would we fly?” Sang the song.

Cardan rested his head on top of hers. The feeling was both pleasant and overwhelming and she had to close her eyes to keep from falling.

“Why were you upset when I picked you up?” The words were so quiet, spoken into her hair like a secret, that she almost missed them.

“What do you care?” She murmured while lacking all of the challenge she’d been using all night.

“I’m not a complete ass, you know.”

No. He wasn’t.

“Is it safer if we just say that we tried?”

“Family dinner ended in a trip to the hospital.” She shouldn’t have said that.

“What?” The alarm was clear in Cardan’s voice as he put enough distance between their bodies to see her face. But she didn’t want to explain and she didn’t want to look at him when his eyes were that full of feeling. Didn’t want to analyze what was in that look. More forcefully than intended, she pulled their bodies back together and wrapped her arms around him to keep him in place this time.

“And I’m stressed about school.” Although this wasn’t a complete lie, it had nothing to do with why she had been upset. It was only a way to steer the conversation away from her confession. “Statistics is kicking my ass.”

When he laughed it was low and she heard it from where she had her ear pressed to his chest.

“Are we laughing at the danger? Are we dancing after death?”

“I can help you with that tomorrow after classes.”

“No, it’s okay.” By now her words were nothing but a whisper.

“Nonsense,” his replied softly. “We’ll meet at your place.”

Too drunk to protest anymore and too desperate to pass the class, Jude reluctantly agreed.

“Are we laughing at the danger? Are we dancing after death, you and I?”

As the song came to its end Jude disentangled their bodies. The heat spreading in her cheeks made it difficult to look him in the face. Her eyes settled instead on his throat. “It’s late.” She pulled out her phone in a desperate need to have something to do with her hands. The screen announced there were four missed calls from Madoc and two messages to punctuate it. Not bothering to see what he had said, she shot him a text saying “i’m fine i’ll call tomorrow” before slipping the device back into her pocket. “I should get home.”

“Let me walk you?” Cardan asked tentatively.

They walked back to her apartment in silence. Whether it was from their drunken state or something else, the silence wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Halfway to her building Jude shivered from the chill wind and, without much thought, Cardan shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The fabric consumed her both physically and in its warmth. The world was swaying. Jude tipped to the side a bit before Cardan reached out and righted her.

Upon the arrival at her door Jude turned to lean against the wood while she faced Cardan. His hair was a mess from the wind and from running his hands through it. His eyes shone from the alcohol and she imagined something else. He was beautiful and she couldn’t deny it. Also undeniable was the feeling inside her of want. She wanted in a way that almost scared her. The words slipped out of their own accord–embarrassing in their obvious meaning, “Would you like to come in?”

Cardan gave her a small smile–but it was sad. Taking a step closer to her he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. All it was was a gentle brush of lips against knuckles but it felt like so much more as his eyes never left hers.

“Ask me again when we’re both sober,” he said softly.

And he was gone.

——–

songs mentioned in this chapter:

in the car they were listening to original me by yungblud and dan reynolds, and they were dancing to dancing after death by matt maeson.

#omg okay im finally done with this chapter #jurdan #jude x cardan #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the folk of the air #jurdan au #my writing #text post #okay to reblog

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hopeisour4letteredword · 5 years

Text

Puppy Love Ch2

Summary: Yuri has somewhere between two and four children, depending on how your definition of "child," a dog, two jobs, and a too-small apartment. Reconnecting with his estranged best friend wasn't supposed to be on this week's to-do list.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

Yuri doesn’t forget to go grocery shopping mainly by dint of wanting private time to sulk before he goes home. Fucking Flynn and his handsome fucking face and perfect career track and judgmental attitude. By the time he gets back to the apartment and throws together dinner, he’s all but pushed Flynn from his mind in favor of what he needs to get done at the bar tonight and how many hours he’ll be able to sleep between closing there and opening the café in the morning. He banters half-heartedly with Judy as she unloads the dishes from the dishwasher, straight into the kids’ hands. They all slump around the coffee table to eat.

“How was Repede’s trip to the vet?” Estelle asks.

“He’s full of vaccines,” Yuri says, trying not to sound surly. He doesn’t really want to think about it. “No rabies, parvo, hepatitis or Lyme disease for him.”

“Good!” Karol says. He reaches under the table to pat Repede on the head. Repede sniffs his fingers hopefully for food. “Repede’s gotta be healthy, who else will keep Yuri in line?”

“Me,” Judy offers. Yuri socks her lightly in the shoulder. “Hey, don’t hit a lady.”

“You’re not a lady, you’re a menace to society.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“It really doesn’t,” Rita says.

“You sure wouldn’t know that firsthand,” Yuri says. “Anyway, Judy, you have to let Raven tip you again—the old man won’t let me pay vet bills anymore.”

“I do let him tip me,” Judy says. Yuri curses, loudly. “Why would I turn down that much money? ...He pulled one over on you again, didn’t he?”

“That son of a bitch,” Yuri says, stabbing his fork into his spaghetti with more force than necessary. Karol stares at him with wide eyes. Yuri sighs. He’s supposed to be watching his language. “Sorry, Karol.”

“You’re moody tonight,” Rita says. She steals one of Karol’s meatballs while he’s distracted. He hollers with outrage and tries to steal it back. They wave forks wildly in each other’s directions. Yuri makes the executive decision not to intervene unless someone gets hurt for real. “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

Yuri rolls his eyes at her and goes back to eating, ignoring her. The next time he looks up, there are four sets of expectant eyes on him.

“Seriously, guys?” He scowls at them. “...I ran into somebody I know this afternoon. I don’t want to—“

“It wasn’t Zagi, was it?” Karol asks, anxiously.

“What? No. I’d have all the blinds closed and the deadbolt drawn if it was Zagi.”

“We ought to just call the cops on him next time,” Rita says.

“Bold of you to suggest inviting the cops to an apartment inhabited by both Judy and myself,” Yuri says. “Considering we’re basically be gay, do crimes incarnate.”

Estelle has been quiet, looking thoughtful, but now she suddenly brightens. “Oh! Yuri, did you see Flynn at the vet? He’s a vet tech now, isn’t he?”

Goddammit, how did she do that?

“Yeah,” Yuri says, sullenly.

“That’s wonderful!”

“Sure.”

“I’ve really been wanting to get you two back in touch,” Estelle says, beaming at him. Of course she has. Estelle’s an angel and Flynn’s probably never had a single damn reason to be cross with her. She doesn’t get it. “I mean, I didn’t because I don’t know whether I should tell him where I am now, since he knows Dr. Dinoia... And I didn’t know how to explain how I know you without mentioning that I’m here....”

“Who’s this Flynn you two keep bringing up, anyway?” Rita demands.

“Hold on, I think I have a picture of him somewhere,” Estelle says. She scrolls through her phone for a moment, then holds it out for Rita to see.

“That guy?” Rita scrunches her nose up. Karol insistently motions for Estelle to show him, too. Judy peers over his shoulder. “Yuri’s friend? I wouldn’t have made that connection.”

“You’ve met Flynn?” Yuri looks at her askance, morbidly curious. “How’d that go?”

“He tried to boss me around as part of some stupid outreach project with our class and the local university,” Rita says. Sounds like Flynn, alright. “So I was like, ‘I know more than you,’ and after a bit he told me to keep up the good work and left me alone.”

“He didn’t even chew you out?”

“Nope,” Rita says, around a mouthful of spaghetti.

Estelle lowers her fork with a frown. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Flynn chew someone out, either...”

“Great,” Yuri mutters, digging back into his food. So it’s just a him thing, then. Cool. Fine. Another fuck-up extraordinaire Yuri Lowell privilege. He loves having those.

“I thought you’d be happier,” Estelle says, still frowning. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Thrilled.”

“You two missed each other so much!”

“Heart-rendingly.”

Rita kicks him under the table. “Don’t pick on Estelle.”

“I’m not picking on her,” Yuri says. His jaw aches from gritting his teeth so much today. “I don’t want to talk about Flynn right now. Karol, how was practice?”

The kids all exchange looks. Still, Karol is always eager to talk about lacrosse, and within seconds the tense silence gives way to his enthusiastic, interminable chatter. Thank God. Yuri gets some peace of mind for exactly as long as it takes to finish dinner and take Repede on a lap around the block. He studiously does not check his phone and does not think about what, if anything, he would say to start a conversation with Flynn. It works great right up until he and Judy are loaded into the car so he can drop her off at her bartending job on the way to his own.

“So,” she says, drawing the word out. “Flynn, huh.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Yuri says, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

“It’s been an awfully long time to still be mad,” Judy says.

“Shut up, you don’t even know him,” Yuri snaps, then stops, taking a deep breath. “...Sorry.”

She shrugs, unfazed. “I knew it was a sore spot when I brought it up.”

They’re both quiet for a minute. Slowly, feeling out the words as they come to him, Yuri says, “I don’t have any reason to think things would be any different now than they were the last time I saw him.”

“Hmm.”

“He’s further along with his life plan, and I’ve added, like, three new obstacles to whatever the fuck mine is anymore, along with not going anywhere with it in the first place.”

“It would be awfully harsh of him to judge you for that,” Judy says. “Considering most of the obstacles in your life come from an inability to ignore people in need.”

Yuri laughs, bitterly. “Flynn’s pretty good at harsh judgement if you catch him in the right mood. Or the wrong one, I guess.”

She reaches over and gently pats his leg. “Maybe he’s changed. What did he say to you at the vet?”

“He told me I never change, scolded me for picking up freeloaders and for being rude to the old man, suggested Repede destroyed Estelle’s shoes because I don’t exercise him enough...”

“And?” Judy prompts, when Yuri makes the fatal mistake of hesitating.

“...And said he missed me and wanted to catch up over coffee sometime.”

Judy’s silence speaks volumes.

“All of the first things I said still happened,” Yuri says.

“And you can talk to him about them,” she says. “But Estelle was right, you know. I can tell you missed him, too. Everybody who hears you talk about him can tell.”

Yuri grips the steering wheel harder. “Just because we missed each other doesn’t mean everything will magically work out.”

“No, but it might mean it’s worth the effort of trying.”

“This is why I didn’t want to talk about this.”

“Why, because you know I have a point and you can’t argue with it?”

“Judy.” They pull into the parking lot of her bar. For once in their shared career history, they’re early. Of all the nights, it had to be this one. Judy takes off her seatbelt and rests her fingers against the handle of the door.

“Let me make you a deal. Mm... more of a bet, perhaps.”

“...I’ll hear you out, at least.”

“You have to talk to Flynn about your relationship and shop for a new apartment...” she raises her free hand to forestall his protests. “And I have to talk to Rita about my anti-military robotics raids and figure out how to rescue Ba’ul.”

“What’s the bet?”

“If I accomplish my goals before you accomplish yours...” Judy drums her fingers against the handle. “We’ll sit down as a family and have a discussion about your little crush.”

Yuri feels the color drain out of his face. “That’s not—I don’t have a crush.”

“Hmm. Your pining, then?”

“I’m not pining either!”

“You’re right, that conversation wouldn’t go anywhere,” Judy says. “It would just devolve into you and Rita calling each other gay. We can talk about the self-esteem issues sabotaging your relationships instead.”

“Get out of my fucking car.”

He reaches across her to yank open the passenger-side door. She catches his hand. “But if you accomplish your goals before I accomplish mine... Should I pick your prize, or do you have something in mind?”

Yuri stares at her, eyes narrowed. Judy smiles back, sweet as honey and sharp as a razor.

“...If I win, you have to get therapy for your daddy issues.”

Her face falls into a scowl, but she extends her hand to him. “Fine. Do you accept the bet, then?”

Yuri shakes on it. “Hope you like shopping for therapists.”

“Oh, baby. You just keep telling yourself that.”

She lets herself out of the car and blows him a kiss as she disappears into the employee entrance of the bar. Yuri, for the second time that day, gives himself thirty seconds to freak out behind the steering wheel. Then he takes a deep, fortifying breath and puts the stick shift into reverse.

Life goes on, apparently with Flynn in it whether Yuri likes it or not.

#fluri #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #repede vesperia #tales of vesperia #judith dragon rider #bastard spotted #not art #long post #Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In

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steveharrington-imagines · 6 years

Text

Overprotective (Brother!Steve x Reader)

Summary: @acciohermionejg requested “hii! request for brother!steve x reader? overprotective brother mode on reader having a crush on one of the other kids ooh lala (if youre comfortable writing this plz!!) ty!”

Hope this is good❤️❤️ thank you so much for the request! I love fluffy stuff

••

You sighed as you closed the front door behind you, happy but exhausted from the day you had playing D&D with your friends. Saturdays were spent at Mike’s house, which was even more fun with the edition of El and Max.

Your older brother looked up from the magazine he was reading while stretched out on the couch. “Hey kiddo, did you have fun?”

You grinned and came to sit on the floor beside him. “Yeah! Hopper let El come today,” you gushed. “And Mrs. Byers let Will stay a little longer then usual.”

Steve smiled at your enthusiasm. “Sounds like it was a pretty good day. Maybe you’d like to help me cook dinner? Looks like mom and dad aren’t going to make it home tonight, and I don’t need them on my ass about how often I feed you pizza.”

You giggled and nodded. “Let me go put up my backpack and I’ll be right there,” you agreed. Steve watched as you ran up the stairs, cloth backpack and dirtied sneakers in hand. He began his trip to the kitchen, pausing to yell from the bottom of the stairs,“ Wash your hands!" He rolled his eyes with a smile on his lips as he began pulling out utensils.

He has just finished greasing a pan when you came down the stairs. "Ready,” you announced. “Is grilled cheese ok?” he asked, bread already in hand. You nodded before taking a can of tomato soup from the pantry.

You stood beside Steve as he buttered the bread before sandwiching a piece of cheese between the slices. He stopped, however, as soon as you picked up the can opener. “Careful,” he scolded as it almost cut your finger.

He refused to resume his task until the opener was in the drawer and he had personally inspected your hand for cuts. You laughed at his over-protectiveness, but it really was appreciated. Even though your parents were rarely home, you never felt neglected.

Soon enough, the two of you sat at the table meant for four, a plate and bowl before you. “Looks good,” you praised before taking a bite of the sandwich. “Not too bad,” Steve agreed.

“So, Y/N, hows Dustin?” he asked to try and fill the silence. You nearly choked on your soup, breaking into a coughing fit. Your face was bright red as you made eye contact with your confused (and concerned) brother. “He’s good,” you squeaked, staring into your bowl.

“Hmm.. if I didn’t know better I’d say you had a crush on him,” Steve teased. ‘How ridiculous’ he thought to himself, an amused smirk on his lips. He didn’t expect for your wide eyed expression to be so serious, though. “Wait, you do?” he asked in disbelief.

You stayed quiet before looking down in shame. “I don’t know,” you muttered. Steve couldn’t fathom any words. What had the little shit done?

Steve put down his spoon, fully attentive to your situation . “Is he flirting with you? Has he asked you out? He better not have laid a single hand on you or I swear-" "Steve, no, chill,” you interrupted before slumping back into your chair. “I don’t have a chance anyway.”

Steve’s expression softened at your words. “Hey, don’t say that. Even though men are pigs,” he began, bringing a giggle past your lips, “he’s probably one of the okayest ones I’ve seen. And even though I don’t think anyone’s ever going to be good enough for you, compared to some of his competitors, he’s not looking so bad.”

You smiled at his kind words, reaching over to lay your hand on top of his. “Thanks Stevie.” You paused, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “Do you think maybe you could let me go with him to the Spring Fling, if he agrees?” you asked shyly.

Steve sighed, avoiding your puppy-dog stare. “I guess that can be arranged. But I’m going to have to talk with him- he’s still a pig.” You burst into a grin, running over to hug him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Steve smiled softly as he rubbed your back. “Yeah, yeah. Go finish your soup.”

••

The night of the Spring Fling had arrived, and you were practically squealing with excitement. You and your friends were going together as a group, splitting up the carpool between Steve and Mrs. Byers. You planned to confess your feelings to Dustin before the last dance, and hoped all would go well. If not, you had one awkward ride home waiting for you.

You looked in the mirror once more at your outfit, a little overwhelmed by how much you had left to finish. Your dress was light teal with a knee length skirt and matched the hairbow currently laying atop the bathroom counter.

A voice from the doorway startled you. “Need any help?” “Steve!” you gasped, jumping in surprise. “Sorry,” he laughed quietly. “Here, I can help with your hair?”

You smiled appreciatively as he came to stand behind you. You handed him your comb and allowed him to style your curls. “Let me see the hairspray, will you?” he muttered.

“Here,” you said quietly while handing him the can. He sprayed a decent amount on your locks before standing back to admire his work. “Wait, my bow!” you gasped, reaching for the ribbon. Steve plucked it from your grasp and secured it (gently) to the side of your head. “What do you think?” he asked.

You stared at your reflection, looking like a different person. “Wow,” you mumbled in an almost disbelief. “I look so.. pretty.” Steve smiled as he watched you in the mirror. “I knew we were related,” he teased before leaving the room.

You hurried to follow him, small purse in hand and shoes on your feet. “Let’s go, kiddo. We gotta pick up Lucas, Max, and Dustin.”

The ride was rather uneventful. First to be picked up was Max, who looked stunning even with her brother lurking on the porch. Then came Lucas who practically had to have Mrs. Sinclair pried off of him. Finally, Steve pulled up to the Henderson household. The boy jogged to the car before Steve had even opened the door.

“Did you tell your mother bye?” he demanded as Dustin slid into the backseat beside Lucas. “Yeah, mom,” he replied sarcastically, buckling up. Steve only honked his horn and complained under his breath. You and your friends sang along to the music on the radio happily: even your brother joined in for a few songs. Before you knew it, he had parked beside Joyce’s car.

Mike, Eleven, and Will emerged from the backseat to join Steve’s posse. Joyce talked to the party (and Steve) for a few moments, making them promise to be safe and responsible. Everyone agreed, especially once they were reminded of Steve’s handy dandy nail-bat.

“I love you!” Joyce called as she drove away. Steve looked to the kids, taking his turn to lecture. “I’ll be at home until I come to pick you up, call me if anything happens at all, shitheads.” He pulled you into his side briefly, pressing a quick peck to the top of your head. “Be good,” he muttered, shoving you away gently.

You grinned and nodded, following the others inside. “Henderson!” Steve called, ushering the boy back to him. “What’s up?” Dustin asked, leaning against Steve’s car.

“I know you’ve got a thing for my sister. And I’m not mad. But if you ever hurt her, in any way, your ass is grass, Henderson.” “Don’t you trust me?” Dustin asked, concealing a smile. “SureI do. But that’s still my baby sister in there, she’s amazing. Treat her right.”

Dustin smiled toothily at his babysitter. “Promise,” he said. “Thank you, Steve.” Steve shook his head before climbing back in his car. “Don’t mention it- just remember what I said,” he reminded while giving the teen a pointed look. Dustin nodded before scurrying inside.

Steve waited until the door had closed all the way before putting his car in drive. Dustin was a good kid, and you had good judgement. But still, men are pigs. He’d just have to watch him a little bit closer.

#stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #brother!steve

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