Tumgik
#i might take 12 instead of 10 because i really like these and i want to do all of them ahhhh
emedeme · 3 months
Text
I have a lot of fun with the VD commissions every year and I've missed them, thank you so much for the welcome 😭❤️ The form is closed now, and I'll write to everyone during the day (whether you got a spot or not).
11 notes · View notes
fratboykate · 1 year
Note
I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.
people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.
5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:
10% to our agent
10% to our manager
5% to our entertainment attorney
5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)
most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.
you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.
lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.
this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.
Tumblr media
they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)
support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.
7K notes · View notes
epilary · 6 months
Text
your instagram if spencer reid asked you out in the fall part 2 | masterlist | requests open
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by Dr.Spencer.Reid and 25 others
y/n  soft launching as the kids call it
View all comments
→ sweetums ooh so this is who spencer’s been seeing 👀
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid How did you even find this post?
     → sweetums i work for the fbi and also follow you and see what you like 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by sweetums and 37 others
y/n  i happen to beat the best chess player every time
View all comments
→ Dr.Spencer.Reid I have no idea what you’re talking about..
     → y/n ooh sure mr. moves his knight instead of queen which could’ve taken out my king
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid I was just distracted by a certain someone
     → y/n oh my god that was both awful and amazing
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by prentiss and 10 others
Dr.Spencer.Reid  Late nights (10/10/2023)
View all comments
→ jareau.j You guys just look so adorable!! When are we meeting this mystery woman?
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid When the time is right, which will be never because you guys like to embarrass me
→ derekmorgan So this is what’s been making you so giddy, pretty boy?
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid I don’t know what you’re talking about
→ y/n wouldn’t want to spend them any other way <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by sweetums and 20 others
y/n  his hair is growing out so quickly :((
View all comments
→ Dr.Spencer.Reid I thought you liked my longer hair 😦
     → y/n oh i do, but i like running my hands through your shorter hair
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid On my way to cut it right now
     → y/n you’re ridiculous 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by y/n and 12 others
Dr.Spencer.Reid  Yeah she's pretty great (10/22/2023)
View all comments
→ y/n right back atcha hot stuff
     → sweetums I love this lady already
→ prentiss It’s like watching my kid grow up and get his first girlfriend 🥹
     → AaronHotchner. Can’t believe this might be Jack someday, they grow up so quickly
Tumblr media
Liked by Dr.Spencer.Reid and 49 others
y/n  can't get over how small the mouth is on that pumpkin..
View all comments
→ derekmorgan How did you convince him to do this?? I need to know your secret
     → y/n it didn’t take much convincing, just told him i’d go to a museum with him next weekend
     → derekmorgan Museums, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that
→ Rossi It seems you’ve been a great influence on our Spencer
     → y/n thank you mr. rossi!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by sweetums and 28 others
y/n  meeting the family, wish me luck ;)
View all comments
→ prentiss It was lovely to meet you! Can’t believe we’re just now meeting you
     → y/n right? i couldn’t tell if spencer was worried i’d embarrass him or you guys would
→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Now I just have to meet your family
     → y/n oh that’ll be insane, trust me
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid Considering I work with these guys, nothing’s insane
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by prentiss and 17 others
Dr.Spencer.Reid  It’s getting colder out (11/02/2023)
View all comments
→ y/n i would love staying snuggled up with you for the rest of the reason
     → Dr. Spencer.Reid I would too, maybe this weekend 😄
→ derekmorgan You gotta slyly bring your arm over her shoulders and then you’ve really got her
     → Dr.Spencer.Reid We’ve been dating for months now, I don’t really think I need that
     → y/n i don’t know, you should give it a try
1K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
For multiverse Monday, could you do professor!Spencer who is infatuated with one of his students and keeps asking her to come see him and she is really shy and insecure and worries that she’s not doing good at school? Like she could never believe HE was attracted to her ? Angsty, smutty whatever you’d like 🤌🏼
today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)
--
Professor Reid had gone from reminding you of his office hours to blatantly asking you to stay after class. You hadn't taken his suggestion seriously, you'd assumed he told everyone what times they could come and meet him, but when he leaves a penned note on the top of the paper he returns to you that says 'See me after class :)', you begin thinking it might be something about you specifically.
Your legs shake as you try packing up slower than the rest of his students, hopeful that you don't look like someone who's in trouble or about to fail the class. His kind, red-inked smiley face had done nothing to deter your nerves, and you approach his desk while your hands toy with the strap of your bag.
He greets you with an expression similar to the one he'd drawn on your paper, and gestures to the chair opposite his own, "Take a seat."
You're expecting him to pull out a laptop and display your less-than-perfect grade, or, because of his anti-technology preference, a gradebook. But he leans across the desk instead, studying you with that gentle smile.
"You're not in trouble," He notes your fiddling fingers, "I just wanted to speak with you."
"What about?" You inquire, then as an afterthought, "-Professor?"
"Well, I don't feel like I know you very well," He confesses, "You're very formal in your emails, and you don't speak much during class. I just wanted to make sure I hadn't upset you?"
Your eyes widen briefly, "Oh, no! No, professor, nothing- nothing like that I just-" You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, "I just don't talk much."
"I understand," He smiles, "Personally, I talk too much. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset with me, I'd really like to get to know you more."
You attempt a weak smile, barely able to function at his flattering remarks, "There's not much to know, I'm afraid."
"I think you're selling yourself short," His voice has a soothing component that disarms any discomfort you might have felt at being so open with your professor, and you're thankful for that as you relax slightly into your seat.
"But I'm sure you have another class to get to. You're free to go, if you'd like, but I meant it. I'd love it if you came to ask questions during office hours, or stopped after class to chat. You don't need to be afraid of me, Y/N."
"Alright," You nod, already rising from your chair. You don't have another class to get to, you'll just need 3-5 business days to recover from your very handsome professor telling you he'd like to get to know you better.
"Uh, thank you, Professor," You smile, and this time it's not marred with worry, "I'll- I'll maybe come to office hours on Thursday?"
"I'd love to see you there," He nods, watching as you trek up the stairs towards the exit, "10 AM to 12 PM, don't forget!'
You think you might get the times tattooed on your arm just to guarantee you'll never miss a meeting.
771 notes · View notes
alocon · 2 months
Text
Forever Irresistible [5/5] - Lando Norris
Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
written by alocon
Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship
Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, implied smut (no actual smut though), final part
[Part One Here] [Part Two Here] [Part Three Here] [Part 4 Here] [Masterlist]
Tumblr media
Irresistible - LN4 x Fem!Reader
“Can we get lunch together tomorrow to talk? Just me and you?”, the 12 words which had been absolutely overwhelming you for the past hour. Rather than give you an idea about what your brother wanted to talk about, Max had instead left you with an ominous “could go either way” message.
You see, it seemed like he was coming around after that family dinner, when he asked you to message him, but no. He instead expressed that he would not be talking to you for a while to work out how he felt about it. It's fine, you thought, a while may only be a couple of weeks. However, he instead decided that “a while” would be at least 8 months. That being said, it was now the day before you and Lando would fly out to Austin for the COTA grand prix. You would be meeting up with Max for breakfast instead of lunch and then would go straight to the airport to what might possibly be one of your favourite tracks. The atmosphere was great, the racing was fun, and there was only a tiny chance that you would manage to walk around the paddock without Daniel or Logan putting a cowboy hat on your head.
A lot had happened after the 2024 season. Lewis had, of course, gone to Ferrari. Nico Hulkenberg had left Haas, leaving an empty space that Checo filled in. And he had done surprisingly well, scoring Haas’ first ever win. By the power of magic? Who knows but that man had become a hell of a good driver to be able to do that. To bring a tractor to 1st takes some skill, especially with 2 Red bulls, 1 Mercedes and 1 Ferrari still in the race. 
Daniel had taken the Red Bull seat, of course, and Yuki was next in line for it. Liam had taken his place in AlphaTauri. Mercedes had seen a new addition to Formula One, with Frederik Vesti taking the Mercedes seat. It was meant to be Mick but after his Le Mans win, he realised that maybe he preferred world endurance a little more. Carlos had obviously left Ferrari with the addition of Lewis. However, instead of joining another team, he left F1 for a season to rally with his dad and would be driving again in 2026 when Valtteri was planning to do a Kimi and go do another type of racing for a couple of years. Other than that, the grid had remained the same. Max in Red Bull, George in Mercedes, Charles in Ferrari, Lando and Oscar in McLaren (Lando had signed a contract until 2027), Fernando and Lance were still in Aston Martin and were rocking it, Lance having got his first win and Fernando his first in like 10 years in 2024, along with 2 more for his collection. Pierre and Esteban still drive for Alpine, Nico for Haas, Zhou for Sauber, and Alex and Logan for Williams. Logan had done really well, too. He got a couple of podiums the previous season.
Lando still hadn't got his first win. Lots of podiums, but no wins. However, that was hardly his fault. The Red Bull, as per, absolutely ripped. 
Walking into the café, you were nervous. You had no reason to be, realistically speaking. Lan had proven to you that he had absolutely no intention of leaving you because of Max, as he had proven over the past 2 years and a few months. You saw Max already there when you arrived so you took a seat at the table with him. It was mostly quiet until you both had ordered your breakfast and drinks, after which you finally spoke up. “Why have you called me here, Max? After not speaking to me for like 8 or 9 months.”
“I miss you. I miss being your twin, having you to look up to and doing dumb stuff together. I miss being the iconic non-driver grid duo. I-”
You cut him off. “Max if you're going to tell me that and then say something about me breaking up with Lando, I will leave. I will walk out of the door right now.”
“You don't need to do that. I just miss you. If you and Lando being together makes you happy, which it clearly does, then maybe I was overreacting.”
“Maybe? Max, you told him he had to choose between me and you,” you said as you took a bite of your food. “You shouted at me for being with him. Made comments about how it wouldn't last because he doesn't love people. But he loves me. He has for years. And I love him. And I just want that to be okay for someone.”
Max nodded, understanding completely why you were upset with him. He looked at you, waiting a few moments before speaking. “I accept the relationship, just so you know. I think… I have for a while, it just upset me a lot that you didn't think that you could tell me for over a year so I freaked out.”
“I think freak out is an understatement, there. Now if that's all, I have a plane to catch.”
“Wait,” he said, placing his hand on your arm to stop you leaving straight away. “It sounds silly but there is a type of counselling/therapy for family members who want to repair their bonds. I've been going to individual therapy for a year, maybe we could give at least one session of the family therapy a go, see if it helps?”
You sighed, mentally weighing the pros and cons. “Okay. One session and we will see where that takes us. I seriously have to go though, Lando is here to get me.”
You stood up, quickly paying for both of your meals despite your brother's objection. You gave him a hug before you left. COTA here we come, you thought.
The journey to America was on a private jet with some of the other drivers. Lewis had, ever so sweetly, invited you and Lando on his jet along with him (obviously), Charles, Arthur (who was racing this weekend as Charles had badly sprained his wrist the previous day but still wanted to watch his brother drive), and George. The plane ride was great, as always, you all talked and played games, you humbled your boyfriend in many games of Uno and Mario kart, you and Lewis caught up, you and Arthur gossiped, overall, it was a great plane ride.
Tumblr media
“And Lando Norris wins the United States Grand Prix!”
You don't think you'd ever cried as much in your life as you had watching your boyfriend cross the finish line. He had tried every single race and finally, for the first time, he had come first after so much bad luck. 
As the checkered flag waved and the roar of the crowd filled the air, Lando stormed across the finish line, the first-time winner of a Formula One Grand Prix. He could hear cheers through the radio from his pit crew, him equally excitedly screaming back. The euphoria of the moment engulfed him, but as he slowed his car to a stop in the pit lane, his mind was consumed by one thought: he had to find you.
In the midst of the chaos and celebration, Lando’s heart raced with anticipation as he tore off his helmet and looked towards the crowd of people waiting for him. He spotted you in the crowd quite quickly, your eyes filled with tears of joy and excitement. He didn’t hesitate to make his way to you, embracing you and lifting you off of your feet and over the barrier that separated you.
"I did it! I finally fucking did it!" Lando whispered, his voice trembling with exhilaration as he buried his head into your shoulder.
Your smile was bigger than he thought he had ever seen before as one of your hands gently played with the curls in his hair. “I knew you could do it, Lan. I’m so so proud of you,” you whispered back, your words filled with unbridled happiness as you gently rocked you both back and forth on the spot. You placed a kiss to the side of his head as you felt his tears soak through your shirt. You didn’t care, though. 
In that moment, amidst the chaos of victory, the blaring of the engines, and the cheers of the crowd, you and Lando found solace in each other's arms. Your love had weathered the turbulent journey of a competitive racing world, and now, in the exhilarating embrace of a triumphant win, you both knew (or more proved to those around you) that you were destined to conquer any challenge together.
As you stood together, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of victory and the warmth of love, Lando realised that this moment was not just about his first win; it was about sharing it with the person who had been his unwavering support for years, his pillar of strength, and (by far) his biggest fan.
“Am I even allowed to be over the barrier?” You inquired quietly as Lando stayed attached to you.
“I don’t know… or care.”
“Well, put me back over, you have to hug the rest of your team and go do your interviews.”
He groaned. Very dramatically. “I don’t want to, I want to stay with you.”
“I’ll be here when you get back, darling.” You looked at him as he sighed before lifting you back over, placing a long kiss to your lips and celebrating with his team before doing his interview. The second he was done with all the podium and media obligations, though, he was dragging you back to the hotel, wanting to cuddle before you all went out to party in the evening. 
Once inside the hotel room, you kissed him. His arms travelled swiftly back to your waist, guiding you backwards as he kissed back, you soon feeling your back touch the door as he crowded you against it. You deepened the kiss, hearing him groan softly as he pressed his body closer to you. His hands started to snake under your McLaren polo that you had “borrowed” from him the day previous, placing themselves on your bare waist. Your hands were in his hair, gently tugging at the curls every so often, making him let out quiet but obscene noises as you kissed. He then started moving you again, this time towards the bed. 
Tumblr media
“Are you going to sit there and continue to eye fuck me, Lando?” You asked as you adjusted the bottom of the dress that you had just changed into for the party.
He leant his head back on the wall behind the bed. “I can't help it. You look amazing.”
You chuckled, walking over to him and placing a kiss on his forehead. He responded by pulling you onto his lap. You looked at him, seeing the familiar look in his eyes. “Don't start this again, Lan.”
“Why?”
“We have a party to go to. Wait until later.”
He sighed, pulling you closer into a hug. “You're the most beautiful person in the world, you know?”
The party went as normal. You and Lando both didn't drink much but everyone else did. As usual, there was a lot of chaos caused - mostly by Max, Checo and Daniel, you were convinced that Charles would end up with alcohol poisoning with the amount that he and Lewis drank together, and Logan, Oscar and Fred almost burnt the place down.
Everything seemed (almost) perfect as you laid in bed, in your boyfriend's arms, having just celebrated his first win. Neither of you were asleep yet. Lando could tell because your breathing pattern was different when you slept. Whilst running his hand through your hair, he took in the atmosphere. The way that you softened into his embrace, the little snores you did when you slept, every little thing you did reminded him of how much he loved you.
“Marry me.”
“What?” You said, head instantly snapping up towards your boyfriend.
He was already looking at you. “Marry me.” 
You sat up, him leaning over to switch the bedside lamp on. He returned to look at you, holding a ring in his hand. You were dumbfounded. “Lan.”
He looked into your eyes, placing his forehead against yours before beginning to speak, softly. “I don't want you to think this was the spur of the moment. This sounds silly but I've had this ring for like a year and a half. I've just been waiting for the right moment. And this feels like the right moment. If you don't want to, or feel it's too soon, I completely get it. But if you do, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiled, genuinely, watching as a tear fell down your face. “Please don't cry, it's okay.”
“Yes.”
“Yes as in yes you'll Marry me or you think it's too soon?” He asked, voice soft as he felt a glimmer of hope in his chest
“Yes, as in yes, I will marry you, Lando.”
Now everything was perfect.
Tumblr media
instagram
youruser
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others
youruser: My boy won his first race finally!! So so proud of him, so here's a Lando appreciation post ❤❤
tagged: landonorris
-comments limited-
landonorris: I love you xx
youruser: I love you too xx
----
landonorris
Tumblr media
liked by youruser, mclaren and others
landonorris: Soulmate appreciation post because she's not the only one allowed to be sappy on the main. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with this beautiful woman ❤❤
tagged: youruser
-view all comments-
youruser: You're stuck with me now x
landonorris: Wouldn't have it any other way x
mclaren: Congratulations!! Welcome to the McLaren family officially (although you were already in it to us), future Mrs. Norris
youruser: My favourite sm admin, thank you x
-The End-
-Word Count: 2,230 (ish)-
Hi, Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this mini series x If anyone has any requests for one-shots, possible series, etc about drivers, please feel free to request. You can do so by clicking on my profile and there should be a requests/questions box. Have a good day x Alocon
147 notes · View notes
wen-kexing-apologist · 3 months
Text
Last Twilight: Ep 12
The TL;DR of this post is just... Sincerely what the fuck?
I remember posting after Episode 1 that I was keeping a suspicious eye on the mention of the eye donation because while I do think in real life disabled people have the right to manage their disability any way they want to and would support someone's choice to get a cornea transplant, real life is not fiction and fiction is designed to pull messages and themes from. Episode 12 from almost it's first moments completely undermines two and a half month's worth of messaging about learning to accept a new reality. I don't think it is foolish of me to assume based on the set up of the first episode that Last Twilight was supposed to be an exploration of grief as told in conversation and parallel between someone who lost a loved one and someone who lost their vision.
If this story had continued in the way it started out the first half of this show, I honestly think it could have been a 10, those first few episodes I was enjoying so much I was worried it might knock out Moonlight Chicken as my favorite Aof offering. Now I have rated Last Twilight as a 3, I will never suggest it to anyone and I will never rewatch it. Why?
Because from a fictional narrative perspective, having Day gain his vision back at the end undermines the entirety of the show's messaging from the first 11 episodes. Every single lesson, every single message just absolutely obliterated by every moment of Episode 12.
Day getting his vision back right as he and Mhok get back undermines the narrative in the following ways:
Rewarding Day for managing to create a successful and happy life as a blind person (literally like "hey you graduated and ran a bookstore while blind! Congrats you get to be normal again!)
"Rewarding" Mhok by insuring that he never has to do any caregiving for Day going forward so we don't get any navigating or expectation of Mhok and Day being in a longterm inter-abled relationship
We eliminate all chances that the subject of pitying Day re-enters any future fights, meaning there is now zero risk for Day maintaining a relationship with someone he worries might infantilize or pity him
It absolves Night of any remaining guilt he may be carrying from thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind
It absolves Day of any remaining anger at Night thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind
Mhon's ableist fucking ass gets her "normal" son back the way she confided in Mhok she'd hoped for after the first failed cornea transplant
It undermines the theme of the in universe Last Twilight novel and the conversation that Day and Mhok have about Mee being turned in to a statue on the top of the mountain and how that was hopeful because her father had found a sight so beautiful he couldn't think of anywhere else Mee would need to see and instead turns the message essentially in to: "there is hope, you can be cured"
It dismantles their cute couple thing of the one palm distance which also makes the OST that they played all the fucking time completely irrelevant
And most importantly, it undermines all the growth that Day went through while processing his grief and the two, TWO separate occasions where he came to terms with his disability
And that's just the disregard for the narrative messages, giving Day his eyesight back is incredibly ableist in the case of this story because of certain ableist through-lines woven in to the entire show. Namely:
While Day is blind, there is no reciprocity of care. Mhok is always taking care of Day, I cannot think of a single instance where Day really took care of Mhok in a significant way. By focusing so much on Day, and abandoning any strong focus on Mhok's grief over losing his sister, Day is never given an opportunity to be a support system for Mhok. Which is fucking ableist. Disabled people have so many things to offer the world, and while they might have specific support needs that does not mean that they can't offer support in return.
Mhok doesn't introduce Day to his family at their graves until after Day has his vision restored, and it is only then that Mhok says he has someone to take care of him. Able-ist!
Day gets his vision back almost immediately after a conversation with his mother where she says he wants to be normal and the fight he had with Mhok is normal.
Handling the entire story this way, with the break up, and a three year time gap, and then Day having his vision restored literally hours after he and Mhok get back together does not allow for any exploration of Mhok and Day having to figure out the differences between Mhok being his caretaker and Mhok being his partner.
We shunted literally every part of Mhok's backstory completely to the side, which in and of itself is fucking ableist in my opinion because it implies that able bodied people who are caretakers for or who are in a relationship with a disabled person don't have any time for themselves, to deal with their own shit or to have their own needs because they are too busy taking care of a disabled person.
With this being, what, the first main character in a BL with blindness, you want to go for the cure route after acceptance? Like you are rewarding someone for their bravery of handling their disability instead of allowing the disabled person to remain happy and thriving in the life they have built for themselves while they continue to be blind?
I'm not blind, so forgive me if I am overstepping at any point here but in my opinion, if you want a narrative that gives Day back his eyesight, that story that not be written by a sighted person. You need blind writers, people with the lived experience having control over the story so the narrative is better able to navigate the complexity of a decision like that, to reverse a character's blindness. I just think blind people would be able to minimize how much returning someone's eyesight might come off as ableist in a story like this. Additionally going the cure route is not a choice I think anyone should be making with the first BL that focuses this heavily on blindness. This world is so fucking ableist, if you want to make a story with a disabled main character with how slim of pickings there are, it feels much more responsible and subversive to go a disability pride route.
And these are just the issues around disability in this show, I have problems with the classism in this show, I have problems with the absolute ridiculousness of Mhok and Day's breakup and their reunion. MHOK APOLOGIZES, MHOK THANKS DAY FOR BREAKING UP WITH HIM, DAY DOES NOT APOLOGIZE FOR BREAKING UP WITH MHOK OR BLOCKING HIM ON SOCIALS FOR THREE YEARS BECAUSE MHOK PITIED DAY ONE (1) TIME. I get not wanting to be pitied, I get it, but seriously it is so much less compelling to have Day just completely abandon Mhok after all of the positive experiences they've had together because he messed up once rather than reel himself back in and have an adult conversation about what happened and try to get back to a balanced state.
Anyway, fuck this show. I am so disappointed that this is Aof's last directed piece for who knows how long. He could have gone out with a bang after Moonlight Chicken and now I am just fucking thankful I won't have to see anything else from him for awhile.
154 notes · View notes
clockwayswrites · 1 year
Text
Like Betta Fish Do - Part 15
Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts.
WC: 4225 (Ch 12 when on ao3: Chs 1-10/Parts 1-12 are there already and are better than here btw.)
“The ghosts’ King?”
Danny hummed in agreement and placed one of the trays of food on Jason’s lap.
“Seriously, you’re a king?”
“Mostly. Now eat you Pho.”
Jason did as he was told.
He shot Danny purposeful looks throughout dinner, but Danny refused to give. He kept his attention fully on the TV even though Jason knew that Danny was incapable of keeping his full attention on any show— much less one they were only watching for Jason’s sake. When the food was gone and the trash had been thrown away, Jason leaned over and paused the show. He figured that Danny was out of excuses.
Danny was still hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and living space, refusing to look at Jason. It made Jason sigh. He pulled himself off the couch, wincing slightly at the cuts on his feet. Now that he was clean and full the minor hurts he’d gotten from the episode bit at him, but he pushed the matter aside as he walked over.
Gently, Jason cradled Danny’s face. The wrapping around his split knuckles felt rough against the soft skin, but Jason simply soothed the path with his thumb.
“Danny.”
The sigh Danny let out was impressively resigned. “I didn’t mean to tell you about the king thing yet. I just didn’t want you to worry about hurting me.”
Jason hummed softly. “But it’s true?”
“Mostly.”
“You’ve said. That doesn’t explain anything, fish.”
Danny just closed his eyes at another brush of Jason’s thumb.
“Fish… I can’t say this won’t change how I think about you, because it feels like every time we meet you’re telling me things that shake me world view, but it’s not going to scare me away. Danny, you’re…,” Jason had to pause to swallow thickly. “You’re here. You saw me in a Pit Rage where I tried to scare you away and you’re still here. You’re here and… and you’re not flinching when I touch you.”
Bright aqua flashed as Danny’s eyes flicked open, intense in their severity. “I told you, I trust you.”
“Then trust that this won’t scare me away, just like I didn’t scare you away.”
Danny sighed and caught Jason’s hand. Instead of pulling it away, though, Danny just twined their fingers together and rested his cheek on them. “So, yeah. Ghost King.”
“Mostly,” Jason said, teasing a little. It worked to pull a slight smile out of Danny.
“Mostly. I can’t take the crown fully until I’m done living. As halfas we’re constantly in change and flux in a way that full ghosts aren’t. There are also some concerns the power that come with the trappings of royalty would be too much for my human half. So right now I’m seen as… too turbulent, basically, to be fully in charge. That means the monarchy is a regency under my council. I’m king in name, but I’m more of a princling right now.”
Jason nodded slowly, absorbing all of that information. It left him with a hundred questions: how did the ghost court work, who made up the council, what were the trappings? As with every conversation with Danny these days there were more questions than answers. He went for the one he felt the need to know most. “How were you chosen to be king?”
“Would you believe right of succession through combat?” Danny asked with a wounded smile.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Yeah, fuck about sums it up.” Danny said. “So I can hold my own. Even if you end up a really strong ghost, you’re not there yet. I don’t think you’re even strong enough right now to land a hit if I went intangible.”
“Right, intangible.” He’d forgotten that was a thing. “You went right through the door after—”
“Ghost stuff,” Danny cut Jason off. “I’ll teach you once your develops. Invisibility, intangibility, and flight are all really basic ghost stuff.”
“And then there’s the not so basic stuff like the core powers?”
“Mhum. And whatever else you might get. I picked up a lot of things from fighting my rogues.”
Jason jerked back in surprise. “Your what?”
“My rogues. That’s what you all call them here, right? The villains or nemesis or anti-heroes or whatever that fight the Bats.”
Danny had rogues. Jason closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If he hadn’t worn himself out already he would have been terrified of the green surging up. “Fish— Danny, are you a hero?”
“Officially retired,” Danny said. “Being King helped solve a lot of issues. And it turns out a lot of them just wanted to brawl so I’ve scheduled times for the ones not actually out to hurt any one. And I’ve destroyed the portal and most ghosts can’t make their own.”
“But you were a hero,” Jason choked out.
“Yep. The portal gave a way to get ghosts through and someone had to do something. My friend Sam convinced me of that— Jason, are you okay?”
Jason forced through a breath. “I’m fine, fish.”
That was a lie, but how could he explain it? How could he explain the knife that was twisted in his gut at the idea that Danny had died and been forced to become a hero. He couldn’t without revealing a lot of secrets that weren’t his to share.
“Just hate thinking of you in danger.”
“It’s— I’m fine. I mean, it sucked, a lot, but I’m fine. A lot of them weren’t that bad. Like Boxy’s whole thing is about wanting to amass boxes. He’s a nuance but not really a threat,” Danny rambled as he fiddled idly with Jason’s wrapped knuckles. “He’s really calmed down too since he married Lunch Lady who, yeah, went a little overboard with things but mostly just want’s to feed people. Their daughter Box Lunch is just the cutest little blob too.”
“Wait.” Jason squinted his eyes open at that. “Ghosts can have children? How does that even work?”
Danny grinned. “Well you see when one ghosts loves another ghost very much—”
“Fish.”
“Okay, sorry. I mean not sorry, your face was too great, but sorta sorry. Um, let’s talk ectoplasm and Ancients. It’s— all of it is a whole thing. Come one, I’ve got some candy in my bag we can open,” Danny said, dragging Jason back over to the couch.
Jason let himself be pushed down to sit and have his feet propped back up. Really, Jason just wanted to pull Danny close and make sure he was alright and go kick the ghost tails of whoever left scars on Danny, but this didn’t see to be the night for it. Right now, Danny wanted to look out for Jason, so he’d let him. There would be time for the other stories later— maybe once Jason could explain why it impacted him so much.
For right now there was candy to eat and ghost biology to learn about. Because apparently not every ghost was alive once— and wasn’t that, as Danny said, ‘a whole thing’.
-
“Are you sure that you’re okay to do this?” Danny asked. Again.
It had only been two days since Jason had come out of the Pit Rage. Danny had stayed through the night and most of the next day. Finishing ‘The Lizzie Bennet Diaries’ was the excuse (and it was pretty good for a ‘Pride and Prejudice’ adaptation), but Danny knew that Jason knew it was a weak excuse. Still, Jason let it slide and didn’t try to push Danny away again.
It was after a very late lunch that Danny made himself leave. He didn’t want to push his luck or make Jason feel trapped; he didn’t want to give Jason a reason to lash out like that again. As much as Danny understood that Jason was doing it out of fear and that Jason couldn’t seriously hurt him, it didn’t change the fact that Jason was a little terrifying in that moment. Worse than the spike of fear that had run through Danny was knowing that Jason was terrified of himself. And so to try and fix that they were walking in, substantially after hours, to a gym that Jason knew. Danny would prove to Jason that the other didn’t have to be afraid of hurting him.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Mr. Wayne,” the brick house of a man who was tidying up behind a small reception desk quipped.
Wait. Wayne? Danny’s gaze flickered between the two.
Seriously?
“Fuck you for making me sound like a smarmy creep by saying this,” Jason shot back without any heat, “but Mr. Wayne is my father. Seriously, there’s one the Mr. Wayne and it sure as fuck will never be me. Tim and Damian can duke it out over the that title when the old man goes.”
Oh fuck, seriously a Wayne.
The brick house clutched a dramatic hand to his chest. “I don’t know man, you don’t write, you don’t call, whatsa man to think but you moved up in the world? Gotten too good for little ‘o Sal’s.”
“No one in your family was ever named Sal, Joel, so fuck off.”
Jason was a Wayne. Tucker could never get wind of this.
“That’s between you and me, bub.”
“And half the clientèle that’s known you since you were in diapers.”
“Eh— same diff,” Joel said, shoving a folder file into a gym bag. “Gym is all yours, Mandy’s already gone. Be sure to lock up after yourself and clean up any mess you make.”
“Will do, Joel. Thanks.”
“Sure, Jason,” Joel said, heading for the door. He turned around at the last moment and give them a smirk and a sloppy salute. “And no having sex on the mats!”
“Joel!”
Danny knew he was blushing, but he bet it wasn’t as bad as Jason’s bright red cheeks.
“I’d apologize for him, but that’s just the way he is. He’s good people though, let’s me use this place after hours so I can exercise in peace… why are you staring at me like that?
Danny made himself blink. “You’re Jason Wayne.”
Between Tucker’s love for technology, Sam’s connection to the rich elite, and Vlad’s jealous Danny knew more than he wanted to about the Waynes. Just apparently not actually enough.
A frown tugged at Jason’s mouth. “You still hadn’t put it together. Shit. I get that I’m not in the spotlight as much as Tim or even Damian but— will this, I mean…”
“Won’t change a thing,” Danny was quick to assure Jason. “One of my best friend’s family is rich and the guy who’s, like, technically my godfather is rich too. I’m just surprised? You don’t exactly—”
Danny paused, one hand frozen in waving reassuringly as the rest of what Danny knew about Jason Wayne snapped into place. “Oh, fuck. You really did die, didn’t you? I mean, duh, I know you died, but Jason Wayne really died. That’s what you meant about cover story when we first met. Ancients, I am such an idiot! No wonder you thought I’d know you.”
“It was kinda endearing that you didn’t,” Jason said with a little shrug. “And I’m not the most recognizable Wayne.”
Danny’s eyes flicked obviously up to the white tuft in Jason’s hair.
Jason just shrugged again.
How did he keep ending up knowing rich people. Was he just cursed somehow? “Right. Okay. Promise, this won’t change things. I just needed a moment to re-compartmentalize you.”
‘Re-compartmentalize’, Jason mouthed.
Danny just sighed. “Shut up, my sister is a shrink— shrink in training I guess. You live with her long enough and you pick up on things.”
“Okay, sure. Can we stretch while you re-compartmentalize my existence?” Jason teased as he locked the front door.
“Yes we can stretch, dead boy.” Danny had to pause again. “Um, is Gotham going to draw and quarter me for calling you dead boy?”
“Maybe, but don’t change,” Jason said, leading them into the gym proper. “It’s…”
“Good to have someone who doesn’t make a big deal out of your death?” Danny offered when Jason fell silent.
“Yeah.”
Danny got that. As thankful as he was for Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, none of them actually got how was best for him to deal with his death. Sometimes you needed to joke about it. “Your family knows then, that you really died?”
Jason nodded.
“How do they think you’re back?”
“It’s Gotham, fucked up shit happens,” Jason said. His voice caught in that way that Danny had come to learn meant Jason was struggling with the topic.
Danny let it drop. “Okay.”
He followed Jason through the stretches. He still didn’t really think he needed to stretch, but even Pandora insisted on them and she was dead, so he behaved and worked through the motions. It did, at least, work out some of the kinks from being hunched too long over his laptop and textbooks.
When Jason finally asked ‘how do you want to do this’, he sounded normal again and the last bit of tension Danny was holding drained away.
He answered with a smirk.
“Well,” Danny drawled. “I can’t show you all of what I do, since it would be too destructive. But I figure we just start sparing and I’ll ramp up until you get the point.
“And what aren’t you showing me?” Jason asked, shaking out his arms.
Danny paused, having to think about that. “Ghostly wail. Pyrokinesis, electrokinesis… though cryokinesis should be fine if I’m careful. None of the ghost ray or ectoblast stuff. No overshadowing… I don’t… I only do that if I don’t have any other choice.
“That’s… quite the list, fish,” Jason said. He looked a little startled when Danny glanced his way.
“It’s like I said,” Danny said. He was trying hard not to be nervous about this. “I’m strong. I wasn’t kidding when I said that. So, you know…”
Danny took a breath and let the rings of light wash over him. He didn’t need to say it any more, but ‘going ghost’ still ran through his head out of habit. He let gravity’s control slip away and floated just a few inches above the floor.
Another breath. He fixed his glowing green gaze on Jason. “Come at me.”
Jason lunged.
Danny flung up a shield, grinning as Jason’s punch bounced harmlessly off of it.
“Too scared to let me get close?”
Danny laughed. “You know what they say, the best offense is a good defense?”
“Other way around, actually,” Jason mocked. “Can you actually throw a punch.”
“Oh I can punch,” Danny said. The shield flickered away with a wave of his hand and a grin stretched over his face. He wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand, green flickering around them. “But can you catch?”
The hand flicked sharply forward.
Jason had just a moment to look confused before he was ducking the weight that Danny had flung off of the rack from across the room.
-
Alright, so Jason could accept that maybe he underestimated Danny a little, but this was still manageable. Telekinesis and barriers were pretty standard powers. He dodged another dumbbell, rolling through the motion to spring up in range of Danny.
Or Dannies.
Because now there were three of them standing there, arms crossed, and smirking at him.
That was… well, it was a sight for sure.
Jason cleared his throat. “So, that’s quite a power you have. Illusions?”
“I don’t know,” the middle Danny said.
The one on the right shrugged. “Not a clue. What do you think?”
The way the left one grinned was feral. “I think he’ll need to figure that out.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jason said. He shifted a half step back— just far enough. He caught his toe under the bar of one of the dumbbells. As he kicked it up he twisted, catching the bar and continuing into his twist to fling it at the Danny on the left.
Who caught it.
Fuck.
“Oh, look at that,” the Danny said, studying the dumbbell before smirking up at Jason from under his bangs. “Guess we are solid after all.”
Well, fuck indeed.
The Danny on the right shifted, warping like a shimmering mirage. “And that’s not all we can do.”
The rippling became more intense before the duplicate’s whole form shifted. Suddenly a massive black and white wolf with glowing eyes leapt at Jason. He let himself fall, leaning into the drop only to push off and dart forward. He caught the dumbbell being thrown back his way and sent it towards the wolf.
He stepped low, pushing off the ground to dart towards the middle Danny— the Danny he was pretty sure was the real one.
Two steps in and suddenly he lost his footing, sliding on a now ice slick floor— forward and right through the intangible cold spot that was Danny’s body. Jason was barely past when Danny turned solid, grabbed Jason’s wrist, and twisted.
Jason was seeing the ceiling as he was flipped up and over Danny’s hip. His breath was knocked from his lungs as he landed hard on his back. He tried to push through the momentum, but Danny twisted faster. Knees landed on either side of Jason’s hips and hands wrapped around Jason’s wrists. Frigid cold spread through him as his hands were iced to the mat.
The other Dannies popped out of existence as the real one loomed further over Jason.
Jason swallowed heavily. “Well, I guess you do have some tricks up your sleeves.”
“Mmmhumm.” The smirk had somehow gotten even more feral.
“The more you show me, the more I’ll learn and the easier you get to fight.”
“Sure, dead boy,” Danny dismissed with a roll of his eyes. He shifted, settling to sit on Jason’s stomach. “But I think I still proved my point. And that’s without anything actually dangerous. If I wanted to down you, I could down you.”
“Think you managed to put me down pretty well tonight,” Jason rasped. He tried (and failed) to not think too hard about how Danny was sat on top of him like that.
Danny snorted. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do,” Jason said. “I still… I get it, but I still don’t know if I’ll… if I can have you around next time without panicking, but I get I can’t hurt you.”
“Okay. And my promise holds, I’ll leave if you tell me to. Just,” Danny leaned forward, resting his forehead against Jason’s with a soft thunk. “I just ask that you consider letting me stay, so that you don’t have to go through that alone. I just want you to try.”
“I’ll try. For you fish, I’ll try.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Now let me up, I want to go another round.”
“Your funeral.” Danny rolled fluidly off Jason before he paused, smiling down at him. “Oh wait. Been there, done that, right?”
Jason couldn’t help the bark of laughter that ripped out of him.
He wasn’t sure he had ever laughed so soon after a Pit episode.
-
“Oracle,” Dick started, activating his comm when there was a lull in the chatter. Batman might not like the chatter, but even he knew there was no stopping it. Besides, the Big Bat wasn’t even on tonight— Brucie duty called. “Has Hood checked in tonight?”
“No, but you know that he still doesn’t always ping when he’s out.”
Dick hummed softly through a frown.
“What is it?” Tim asked.
“Just, it’s been a few days since I’ve heard anything about him being active.”
“That isn’t unusually,” Babs pointed out, ever the voice of reason.
“Yeah, sure. But he missed a meal with Red and me too.”
“That also isn’t unusual,” Tim pointed out.
Dick sighed. Why didn’t anyone get it. “But all together?”
At least the silence felt a little more considering than judging.
“I think I’ll just swing by his place real quick, get eyes on him,” Dick said, twisting midair to change the direction of his flight. He silenced his comms again from his side, letting Oracle lead the Bats and Birds where she needed them. It wasn’t a busy night, at least, so Dick didn’t feel bad about taking a sidestop to check on his little wing.
He wanted to think that it was nothing— that Red Hood had just been quiet or, less likely, Jason was just taking some time for himself, but something was bothering Dick. It wasn’t one solid thing that was making Dick nervous. The bathbomb thing had been weird, but apparently it had been a case of mistaken identity for a joke. Which was odd, but it was Crime Alley. Finding Jason sick had bothered Dick more than it should have, but the other recovered easily enough. It was just that also… Jason had seemed a little different.
It was a good different! Jason has been thinking about going back to school. He had even been meeting up with parts of the family more casually and often. Dick didn’t want to be concerned about things like that, but something in his gut told him there was more going on. And as a Bat trained Bird, he couldn’t ignore his gut.
He landed, silently, on the roof top across from Jason’s as he caught the other stepping into the building.
“Well,” Dick said, turning back on his mic once he had settled into the shadows. “Seems Jason went to the gym.”
“Like Hood isn’t swole enough,” Steph chimed in. There was a heavy grunt from her end of the comms. Guess she caught up with the robber.
“Nothing weird about training,” Tim said. “I believe that he’s said there’s some gym he uses after hours? And it is still early, Hood isn’t off the table for the night.”
“No, that’s true. I guess—” Dick froze, almost jolting out of the shadows in surprise at what he was seeing.
“Nightwing?” Babs demanded.
“Jason has someone with him.”
There was silence for a beat before the line erupted in overlapping voices.
“What the hell?” Dick murmured.
“What’s happening Nightwing?” Tim demanded; words clipped and anxious and loud enough to be heard over the others.
“The twink just took Jason down. Dropped him like it was nothing.”
“Get in ther—”
“No, no that’s— okay that’s pretty weird, but that’s not the weird part. Jason swept the guy’s legs out from under him right after. And now, just… he’s laughing. They both are. Jason just flicked the other guy off.”
The silence on the comm line was heavy.
“Confirm that Nightwing?” Babs asked as Dick watched Jason pry himself up off the floor. He must have said something because the other man dissolved into harder laughter, curling up on his side as he flicked Jason off right back.
“There’s a stranger in Jay’s place and Jay is laughing,” Dick repeated.
He tracked Jason as he moved to the door and picked up the messenger bag the other man had dropped. Jason rooted through it and pulled out a small kraft paper bag. He raised his brows at whatever it was. And then he did something that Dick didn’t know Jason was capable of anymore.
He smiled. It was soft.
“Guys, he’s… smiling. Like….” Dick gave up trying to explain it and snapped a still of it with the body cam to send through chat.
“Oh,” Babs whispered. “He looks… so happy.”
“I can’t get an I.D. on the guy. Just somewhere around Jason or Tim’s age best as I can tell. Black hair. Lean but he’s obviously got some muscles,” Dick said when he had gathered himself. The guy basically oozed off the floor and onto the couch. He was twisted to watch Jason, which left his back to Dick. “I think the other guy got him tea. Jason’s making it for them now.”
“Tea? Like, a present?” Steph asked.
“Yep.”
“Huh.” That was a dangerous sort of ‘huh’ to hear from Tim. That ‘huh’ had layers— dangerous layers.
“No, Red.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Tim defended at the same moment as Babs chimed in with, “He has a point.”
“Thank you, Oracle,” Tim said.
Steph snorted. “I thought you didn’t say anything.”
“Oh shu—”
“No,” Dick interrupted. He poured every bit of authority he had learned leading his own team into the word. “I mean, it: no. I’ll stop by tomorrow to visit him and see what I can learn but no hacking, no looking at his cams, no checks.”
“Nightwing—” Oracle started.
“No. Guys, I’m serious. When was the last time Jay had someone he was close to outside of work and family?”
The silence really said everything.
“Yeah, exactly. So we’re not going to do anything to fuck this up for him. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yeah, yeah, crystal, no need to be so fucking dramatic,” Steph said, cutting through the tension as easily as she always did. “We have enough of that in the family. ‘Have I made myself clear’— who do you think you are? A bat shaped furry?”
Tim groaned. “No, we are not getting into this debate again—”
Dick tuned out his family as he watched Jason settle down on the couch across from the stranger. He was still smiling.
No, Dick was no Bat, but he’d still look after his little wing.
-----
AN: HELLO MY DARLINGS it has been a long time since we’ve had fresh fish here- a month to be exact. But we are back. Danny really wanted to throw a lot at this chapter. Danny, bby, we weren’t supposed to go into the King thing yet. But here we are. Also, Jason cluing in about how much he likes Danny? Could it be?
If you asked to be tagged on a part older than 14 or 13, I’ve probably missed you and you can ask again, but PLEASE be sure you’re not already on the list. Also when the new post editor becomes the only option in a few weeks, expect to see tags coming from my side account clockwaysadmin to get around the issue of too many tags stops things from being postable. That also might break tags less, we’ll see!
Stay delightful, darlings!
Tag horde:
@fisticuffsatapplebees  @thegatorsgoose  @wolfeyedwitch  @lazy-bouqet  @confusedandghostly  @glomsk  @kailithiel  @bahfev  @d4ydr34min9  @claudiashq  @someonebored0100  @samgirl98  @angelheartgamer  @lehana37  @spiteismymiddlename  @rosecinnamonbun  @demon-cat-goes-woof  @violet-catsarelife  @avelnfear  @undead-essence  @basilf1res  @amillionandonefandoms  @stealingyourbones  @sarcastic-yami  @bun-fish  @aconitewolfsbane  @dontfightmecauseillcry  @omgnectarina  @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff  @the-blind-one-speaks  @wolfe-marvin  @learning-to-fly-on-my-own  @multplelifes  @yurijay  @bae-graphomaniac  @fan4rt1st  @weirdestarrow  @wolfjackle  @allulily  @onyxlightdragon  @zotinha456  @wwwwyamd  @river9noble  @starscreamlover  @michealawithana  @robinmedea  @spideypoolalways  @jesus-camp-the-sequel  @persephoneblackrose  @f4nd0m-fun  @mady-is-ace-trash  @ascetic-orange  @renwilson  @ace-aro-as-shit  @rangerhorsetug  @thatrandomsarahchick  @holygoldfish  @mlpizza  @chrysanthemum9484  @justwannaseesomebrozawa  @newgraywolf  @crazylittlemunchkin  @fire-glass @autumnrosnor  @the-nerdy-fangirl  @faithblob-says-things   @a-star-with-a-human-name  @winged-scaly-attic-dweller  @mistermetalmaker  @apersond  @mustachebatschaos  @joaniejustwokeup  @that-dumbass-on-a-horse  @plainly-colorful  @blackcatsandhaunteddolls  @booklover223  @alice-hazelwood  @answrs  @enbydemirainbowbigfoot  @felicityroth  @wanderingrutabaga  @seraphinedemort  @write-it-right-2  @my-mom-calls-me-rat  @01101010-01100001-01111001  @arc-777  @crystalice067  @phoenixdemonqueen  @icedbluesoul  @itsparadoxlacuna  @spikedlynx  @redhoneysugarorange  @russetfur1128  @mutable-manifestation  @stargirl1331  @chaoticchange  @living-on-borrowed-time  @orshie  @britcision  @littlefeather345  @sunflowershine03  @aro-acedumbass  @thefanficcup  @shibanoh  @icefirecrystal  @thatonejumbledmess  @cy-ella  @kobol1  @metal-sporks  @tired-yet-awaken  @currant-owo  @firegirl108  @stupidlovepurplepeace  @drowningroane  @imagineshazamlokimight  @immakittybear  @justalittletotheleftofnormal @chrysanthemum9484  @kawaiikenna  @imaginationmademanifest  @a-salty-sal  @mentalcarebear  @mj-arts-n-stuff  @xysidhe  @cottonscrambles  @manapeer  @yjfk  @ryisc  @666deaddash999  @nutcase8691  @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit  @dr-syko-pharm-4  @i-have-opinions  @ballzfrog-blog  @mysoulspiralbound  @istillhavenosociallife-blog  @gin2212  @annabethchase0 @basementloser  @plotwholls  @minnowmarsh  @neverlandingbird  @rootsmudge  @fandom-reblog-central  @serasvictoria02  @mnemovoid  @taniaundertaleau  @kirineo-kiki  @ironicvixen  @violetfox2  @redhoneysugarorange  @phantom-dc @naluforever3  @horribly-lost-and-gay  @babblingbat  @kyrianclawraith  @caspertheloudassghost @the-forgotten-dragon-anankos @lyra689 @v-inari @terzatheunderscorerima @fallenangle67  @aarinisreading @job-ross-the-second @smol-book-nerd @sara0055 @goldenstripes001
652 notes · View notes
brbsoulnomming · 8 months
Text
Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 14
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | AO3
-----
Everyone does end up having to go home. Except him, obviously, and Steve, whose house Eddie has learned he's apparently going to be squatting in until they can figure out a way to clear his name.
Is it squatting if he's invited? Eh, whatever.
Nancy and Robin swing by to drop off the prescriptions they'd picked up for Eddie. Both of them linger, long enough that Eddie thinks they might just stay - kind of wants them to stay, torn between wanting to be alone with Steve and not wanting to be alone with Steve.
Robin hugs Steve really tight, and he folds her up in his arms and holds her close, just staying like that for a long, long few minutes, talking so quietly they can't be heard. Nancy takes both their hands and squeezes when they're done, and surprises Eddie by giving his hand a squeeze as well. Robin looks like she kind of wants to launch herself at Eddie and hug him, too, but she settles for ruffling his hair, and then grimacing when her hand comes away grimy.
He laughs at her, and they promise to check in tonight, then they both leave.
Mrs. Sinclair comes to pick up Lucas and Erica and Max, and Eddie stays out of sight with his heart hammering in his throat, but they don't venture beyond the front hallway. Eddie can't quite make out what she says as she picks them up, but her tone is low and worried, and there's an underlying note of a familiarity, a gratitude, as she speaks briefly to Steve.
Eddie wonders, again, how long they've all been doing this. How many times their parents have worried about them, how many times Steve has apparently brought them home safely, looking beat to hell.
Mrs. Henderson is much louder when she comes to collect Dustin, though she doesn't go into the living room either. He can hear her fussing over the bandages around Steve's neck, asking how bad it is, sounding only mildly reassured when he tells her that it wasn't as bad as Starcourt. She asks him to come stay with her and Dustin, and Eddie thinks he can hear something like longing in Steve's voice when he declines, promising to come to dinner next week instead.
Then it's just him and Steve.
Steve collapses on the recliner, tipping his head back. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the long line of his throat, the stretch of tendons and muscle broken up by white gauze.
His mouth goes dry.
"I've got a guest room ready for you upstairs," Steve says.
His throat works as he speaks, and it takes Eddie a moment to process it.
"Fuck," Eddie mumbles. "Stairs, really?"
Steve laughs softly, tipping his head back up. "Yeah. It's got an ensuite and the bed's decent, we can set you up a lot better in there."
Eddie swallows. He wants to ask why Steve's doing this for him, but he's a little bit afraid of the answer, so he just makes an exaggerated whine of complaint.
It works to make Steve chuckle again, at least, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, you'll be glad once you're in an actual bed. Look, I'll get you some food and your next dose of meds first, just hang tight for a bit."
Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, but honestly, Steve's probably right. He must doze off a little, because the next thing he knows, Steve is gently shaking him awake, helping him sit up, and giving him something.
"What's this?" he asks, blinking blearily down at the bowl Steve handed him. It kind of looks like chunky baby food, though it smells pretty good.
"Oh, uh, frozen shepherd's pie," Steve says. "Not a lot to work with right now, we'll have to see about a grocery run soon. But I figure it's probably at least better than snacks and hospital food."
Eddie shrugs. "Not exactly a picky eater over here," he says as he digs in.
It's warm, and tastes a hell of a lot better than it looks. Like meatloaf and mashed potatoes all mixed up together, all hearty and comforting.
"S'good," he mumbles around a full mouth, prompting Steve to make a face at him.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, gross," Steve bitches.
Eddie feels compelled to stick his tongue out at him, still with some mashed potato remnants stuck to it, and Steve rolls his eyes.
"You make this?" Eddie asks, once he's swallowed the rest of the potato.
"Yeah." Steve scratches the back of his neck, just above the bandage. "Sometimes I'll freeze up smaller portions if I make something big, so I have stuff to grab when I'm in a hurry. Or when I've got recuperating metal-heads in my living room."
Eddie huffs a little laugh. "That a common occurrence? And here I thought I was special," he teases.
"You're something," Steve returns, though the grin he gives him is wide and fond as he reaches for the prescription bag Robin'd dropped off, pulling out the pair of bottles within and reading them over. "You're not due for your antibiotics yet, but you can have the pain meds."
He opens the bottle up, then pauses, frowning down into it. "Did they give you the wrong prescription?"
Ah.
"No," Eddie says, feeling exhausted.
"But we have the same meds, and mine is like. Four times this amount, even though your injuries are way worse, infection aside," Steve says, looking back up at him with his brow furrowed.
"They said it's because I left against medical advice."
Steve snorts. "That's a load of crap."
Eddie sighs. "What do you want me to tell you, Steve? You know what my side job is. The whole town does. Every time I go to the ER for something, to them, I'm just drug seeking."
Steve looks stricken, and god, Eddie's not sure he can take any well meaning pity right now. He kind of wants the couch to just swallow him up.
There's just silence, though, and then Steve's jaw sets in determination. He gets up, leaving Eddie floundering a little and staring after him as he walks into the kitchen, returning with a bottle that looks almost identical to the one Eddie was given.
He sits back down, popping them both open, and promptly tips his bottle to start dumping his own pills into Eddie's.
"Whoa, hey, what the fuck!" Eddie struggles to get up without hurting himself or dropping his bowl, gives up, and tries his best to glare at Steve from his position on the couch under the blankets.
"You need them more," Steve says stubbornly. "It's not like I'm going to take them, anyway."
Fuck, that's worse than pity, and Eddie feels his blood boil.
"No, of course not." Eddie sneers. "Is His Majesty above such petty things like pain? Would he rather muscle through on sheer meathead determination than turn to drugs like the lower class?"
Steve goes very still. "Do you really think that?" he asks quietly.
Eddie opens his mouth to snap that he doesn't have to think it, that Steve just showed him it, but - he looks at the expression on Steve's face instead, how it's gone closed off but it isn't hard, isn't angry. It's just blank. Abruptly, Eddie feels wrong-footed, like he'd fallen back on old habits and responded as the guy everyone thinks he is, to the guy he used to think Steve was.
"No," he says, just as quietly. "I don't really think that."
Steve's frozen exterior melts a little, and he shakes a pair of pills out into his hand, holds them out for Eddie to take. Eddie does, swallows them dry, and shovels another spoon of shepherd's pie into his mouth to keep it occupied. Steve looks like he's thinking about something, and Eddie doesn't want to risk saying something to throw him off.
"It's not that I'm trying to muscle through," Steve says, apparently coming to a decision. "I was drugged last time we dealt with Upside Down shit, it was a whole thing." He waves his hand. "I was high as hell for some of what was going down, and it was. Not a great time."
Eddie tries to imagine fighting off the demobats while drugged out of his mind, and goes a little pale. "Fuck."
"Yeah," Steve says. "I can't really do anything stronger than alcohol or the occasional joint now."
"Fuck," Eddie says, softer and with more feeling. "Jesus Christ, I'm such an ass, why do you even like me?"
Steve opens his mouth, and Eddie flails, slapping his hand over Steve's mouth before he can say anything.
"Nope, nuh-uh, this is an apology, not a ploy to get you to say nice things about me," Eddie insists. "Okay?"
Steve's laughing at him, he can tell just by his eyes, but he waits until Steve nods before he pulls his hand away.
"That's not what I think of you," Eddie says again. "I got defensive and lashed out, and it wasn't fair. I'm sorry."
The laughter in Steve's eyes fades, and he looks - caught out, all surprised and vulnerable, and he's staring at Eddie with something like wonder.
It makes Eddie squirm, feeling both like he doesn't know what he did to get that look and like he never wants it to stop.
"Thank you. Apology accepted." Steve's quiet for a moment before adding, "I'm sorry, too. I could tell you were upset but you didn't want sympathy, so I just."
He shrugs, and Eddie's going to press him more about what he just, but first - "You could tell?"
"Yeah. Your face does this thing - you're usually so expressive, but you just kind of shut down, like you're resigned."
Oh. Fuck. He hadn't realized Steve noticed him like that, and he focuses really hard on the other thing he wanted to push about to avoid thinking about it too much. "So you just?"
Steve gives him a crooked little smile. "Jumped to fixing it. Robin says I have this thing, where if someone I care about is upset and I don't know what else to do, I try to fix it. But sometimes how I try to fix it and what they want are different things."
Eddie's mouth opens, and before he knows it he's said, "I'm okay with that."
Steve blinks at him. "Really?"
Eddie'd shrug, but he's not sure his shoulder - or his entire torso - is up for the motion right now, so he just tries to look as casual as possible while half huddled on the couch, in hospital scrubs. "Yeah. People don't try to fix things for me, not unless it's my uncle. Might be kind of nice."
"Oh." Steve's got this look on his face like he doesn't know what to do with that - maybe he hasn't gotten many people who let him try to fix things for them.
Which, fair enough. Under any other circumstances, Eddie'd probably be one of those, just - he doesn't think he's lying, even not touching the fact that Steve hadn't reacted to what he said. "I'm probably going to be a dick about it when I'm not recovering from being half dead, though," he adds, just to be safe.
Steve snorts. "You've met just about all of my friends, man, that's nothing new. Usually I do a decent job at figuring out when they're just being dicks and when I'm actually going too far, but they're good about telling me when I don't get it right. They do it when I'm being too much of a dick, too."
"I can do that," Eddie decides. "Tell you if you're going too far."
He probably shouldn't make decisions right after leaving the hospital against medical advice, but screw it, he's doing it anyway.
"Okay," Steve says after another moment of consideration, then narrows his eyes at him. "I'm still taking a rain check on telling you all the things I like about you. It's getting to be kind of a long list."
Eddie gapes at him. Fuck, he can feel his cheeks burning, and he really hopes he can blame it on the bite wounds or the pain meds.
Hopes Steve won't ask, because he knows that would be a lie.
"Go away," he says, curling over his bowl so he doesn't have to look at Steve. "Let me eat my luxury baby food in peace before I have to drag my ass up all those stairs."
Steve laughs at him again, but it isn't mean, and he does leave, heading upstairs to - Eddie doesn't really know what Steve Harrington does with his free time when he's not ripping apart demobats or complaining about babysitting, actually.
Huh.
He thinks he might like to find out.
He shovels the rest of his shepherd's pie down methodically, then sets the bowl down on the coffee table and eyes the stairs. Despite his earlier words, he's pretty sure there's no way he's going to make it up them on his own. He pulls in a breath and lets it out, then calls, "Hey, Steve?"
Steve emerges almost immediately, a couple of towels tossed over one shoulder and an armful of plastic bottles. "You done?" he asks, tromping down the stairs.
Eddie eyes him. "What's all that?"
"The hospital did a pretty good job at getting most of the Upside Down grime off of us, but I thought you might want to wash it out of your hair," Steve says.
And fuck, yeah, Eddie really, really wants to - it's not just Upside Down grime, honestly, what with the whole being on the run for a week thing, and it just feels gross. Still, Eddie grimaces.
"Not, uh. Not really sure I can stand up long enough," he admits. "Plus I'm not supposed to lift my arms that high yet."
Steve's ears turn just a little bit pink, and Eddie struggles to keep his expression neutral, not to let his eyebrows raise up or to lean in too hungrily.
"I can wash it for you," he offers. "The laundry room's got a pretty deep sink, and I can pull up a chair and have you lean back a little."
He looks so fucking earnest that it makes Eddie flounder a little, once again having to restrain himself from asking why. Why is Steve doing any of this? Is it just because this seems to be what he does, because he thinks of Eddie as part of their Upside Down fighting group now and is focused on taking care of a party member? Were the handful of stolen moments during all of the fuckery and in the hospital real, or is Eddie just fooling himself that this is something he could actually have?
"Yeah," he says before he even realizes he's agreeing, while his thoughts are still a tangled up mess. "Appreciate it, man."
Steve shoots a smile at him. "Gimme a sec, I'll be right back."
He disappears down the hall for a few minutes, then comes back to help Eddie up. It's slow going, with Steve taking most of Eddie's weight, but he knows it's not going to be near as rough as the stairs will be, so he tells himself it's a practice run.
There's a low backed chair pulled up in front of the sink when they get to the laundry room, a folded up towel already pillowed on the edge of it. Steve guides him to sit down and tilt his head back, neck cushioned by the towel and hair spilling into the sink.
And then -
Fuck, Steve is close.
He's been close before, obviously, he let Eddie get all up in his personal space when they were walking through the Upside Down and he leaned over Eddie's shoulder a few times to watch what he was doing, and Eddie's literally been leaning on him to walk since he got here, but - with all of that, there was something else going on, some kind of other purpose or at least a buttload of pain he was trying to ignore.
Sitting like this, Steve leaning over him as he fiddles with the knobs to get the water to a good temperature, he's just close. Eddie can feel the body heat coming off of him, and he can count every freckle and mole on Steve's forearms, where he'd pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He's not trying to look, but he can still see the scrawl of writing that disappears under the sleeve of his left arm, can just make out I don't think. He can hear the heavy beat of his own heart and the way his breath quickens, and he forces himself to breathe slow and even, trying not to draw attention to it.
Then Steve's fingers are in his hair, gently sweeping it all together as he starts rinsing it out.
"Shit, man, this might take awhile," he says apologetically. "The water's coming out as black as it did for mine, and I've got less hair."
Eddie hums noncommittally, afraid if he says anything he'll end up telling Steve that's fine by him, they can stay like this all night if he wants to. There's the sound of a shampoo bottle opening, and on his next breath in he's hit with the scent of something, he has no idea what, like a honeyed summer day, all sunshine and sweet and clean.
And then Steve's hands are on him again, fingertips rubbing small circles over his scalp, blunt nails scratching in just the right way to send shivering goosebumps down his spine.
He's not proud of the way it makes him fucking whimper, but mostly because the sound prompts Steve to freeze.
"That hurt?" Steve asks softly.
"No," Eddie manages to get out. "It, uh. Feels nice."
Nice is an understatement, but not a lie, so it's the best he's got right now. It makes Steve continue, at least, so Eddie's taking the fucking win.
His eyes slide shut, and he thinks he might drift off to sleep right there if it weren't for the fact that he really wants to cling to how fucking good this feels. God, he can't remember the last time he felt a physical sensation that wasn't pain or discomfort, and he tells himself that's the reason that this is making him react so strongly.
No one's ever done anything like this for him before. No one's ever wanted to, even before the murder accusations, and between the exhaustion settling over him and the pain meds kicking in and the euphoria of feeling good - Eddie's dangerously close to begging, here. To saying please, just, please can he keep having this, please can this mean something, can this be because Steve wants to and not because he feels obligated.
"You okay?" Steve asks quietly as he rinses Eddie's hair out, and starts lathering up for a second wash.
Eddie hopes it's just a general are you okay, in light of the whole everything, and not a specific hey you look like you're going through something right now. Doesn't actually matter, he guesses, because he still has to say something, and he doesn't know what to say that isn't a lie or isn't something that's too much.
"Haven't, uh. Haven't had anyone do this before," he admits, because that seems like the safest thing to acknowledge.
He thinks what he means by this was pretty obvious, but apparently not, because Steve gives a thoughtful little hum.
"Take care of you?" he asks, cradling Eddie's skull in his hands so delicately it makes him want to weep.
Or shove him off and run until he can't anymore, but that's not any better.
"Fuck, Steve, not holding back any punches here, huh?" he asks, his voice a little raspy.
"I mean. We almost got eaten by demobats together, and we're in kind of a bathroom. That's prime bonding time, for me."
Eddie'd shake his head, but he doesn't want to do anything to dislodge Steve's hands, so he settles for heaving a pointed sigh. "No, Steve, people haven't been lining up to take care of the freak. It's not like I need it, anyway."
Steve makes this little sound - Eddie's not sure he's even aware that he does it, really, but it's like the verbal equivalent to rolling his eyes. "Everyone needs it, sometimes. It's okay to want that, especially after all of this. This isn't the first time some of us have stayed together in the aftermath."
"Yeah? Who looks after you, then?" Eddie asks.
"Robin, usually, sometimes Dustin. Why, you volunteering?"
He can't see Steve's face, but he thinks that was probably meant to come out as teasing. It doesn't quite land there, though, a little too soft, a little too genuine, and it makes Eddie swallow.
"Maybe," he says, feeling his heart beat in his throat.
"Oh," Steve breathes out, his hands stilling for a moment.
Eddie fights not to open his eyes.
"Yeah, okay," Steve says, a little too carelessly, fingertips scratching back over his scalp again. "I look after you, you look after me."
That's not quite what Eddie meant, but he doesn't know how to say what he meant, so he just says, "You don't have to. Take care of me, I mean. Just because you think it's okay to want to be taken care of, you know, it doesn't have to be you."
He waits for Steve to point out that Eddie'd just said that no one else was lining up for the job, maybe make a joke about how it's him or nothing.
Instead, Steve says, "I know. I want to."
Fuck.
If this is the way Steve always is, Eddie can see why so many girls were into him in high school.
When he's reasonably sure his voice isn't going to shake, he says, "Thanks, man. For - all of this."
He's kind of worried Steve is going to tell him that he's doing it because he wants to again, but fortunately that seems to be enough talking about not quite emotions for both of them, because Steve just hums as he starts rinsing Eddie's hair again.
Eddie lets himself relax, sinking into the soft, floaty feeling that wants to pull him down, and just enjoying the feel of Steve's fingers in his hair, the edge of pain blurred and fuzzy from the meds, and finally, finally feeling like maybe he's safe.
It takes another round of lather and rinse for Steve to be satisfied with how clean his hair is, but Eddie sure as hell isn't protesting. Time kind of slips and wobbles, anyway, as he doesn't doze so much as just fucking melt into the chair and under Steve's hands, like all the tension from the last week plus is oozing out of him. He thinks Steve murmurs something about conditioner, but he honestly doesn't care, as long as he can keep sitting here like this.
Eventually, the water's shut off, and Steve's tilting his head up, draping his hair over a towel and gently scrunching it before wrapping it up.
"You awake?" Steve asks, voice a little sing-song like he's teasing.
"Depends on how you're measuring awake," Eddie mumbles back, not entirely sure he managed to get all those syllables out in the correct order.
Whatever he says, it makes Steve laugh softly. "Come on, Munson, up you go. Let's get you to bed."
Eddie's hindbrain immediately takes over, and the next thing he knows he's saying, "Fuck, yes please, finally."
Fortunately, Steve seems to take his eagerness as an eagerness to be in bed in general, and not in Steve's bed specifically, because he just says, "You gotta stand up for that."
Eddie whines, and Steve's hand on his elbow where he'd been tugging him to get up slips, and Eddie looks up at him, eyes wide.
Steve's staring back at him, and holy shit, Eddie might be high on pain meds and a boneless mess from what was basically a head massage, but he knows what desire looks like, knows Steve's eyes are probably a mirror of his own right now.
Then Steve's eyes are closing, and he visibly shakes himself like a fucking dog, before his hand finds its spot on Eddie's elbow again, nice and firm.
"Steve," Eddie murmurs, even though he knows he's missed his moment to speak, because Steve is already guiding him up and wrapping his arm around him to help him walk.
"Not too far, Eds, I promise," Steve says. "We'll be there before you know it."
"Steve," Eddie says again, and this time Steve pauses, swallowing once before he looks at him.
Steve's arm is still around him, and he's so close they're practically breathing the same air - so close he can see the flecks of hazel in Steve's eyes, see the way his lashes brush against his cheek, and Eddie -
He doesn't want to do it like this. Eddie knows he's pretty far gone right now, a little floaty and a little loopy, and he's honestly not sure what words he can even get out of his mouth, let alone if he's going to remember this tomorrow.
"This is gonna have to be mostly you," he says, not letting himself think about how it could mean more than one thing. "I'm barely standing after that, let alone navigating stairs."
Steve laughs softly, steering him out of the laundry room and towards the stairs. "Long as you keep your feet on one side of the steps, you'll at least have one up on Henderson last time I had to help him up the stairs."
"No promises," Eddie replies, but that does make him look down at his own feet, trying to be careful and deliberate about how he places them as they slowly make their way upstairs.
With the meds, it doesn't hurt as much as it probably should. It mostly just takes so much goddamn effort, feels like walking through jello, and Eddie's not ashamed to admit he's breathing heavily by the time they make it to what must be the Harringtons' guest room.
It's… well. It's boring, honestly, minimally decorated, but the bed looks huge and insanely welcoming at the moment, all the blankets turned down and the pillows carefully arranged to resemble the way he'd found was the most comfortable at the hospital. The lamp on the nightstand is glowing softly, and there's a glass of water and Eddie's bottles of pills next to it.
Clean clothes are laid out on the bed - a pair of black boxers, black track pants with a white stripe down the leg, and a dark blue Henley.
Another lump forms in his throat, and he swallows past it as Steve points out the door to the bathroom.
"I'm just down the hall," Steve tells him.
Eddie manages to mumble out a thanks, and only stares at him a little as he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Honestly, Eddie's too fucking exhausted to sort out anything about anything right now, so he just shuffles his way over to the bed. He strips out of the hospital scrubs, leaves them in a pile right where they fall, and struggles into the clothes Steve's loaned him.
Like the stairs, it doesn't hurt, but he knows that doesn't mean he can risk overdoing it. He's careful, moving gingerly to pull the shirt on and sitting on the bed to step into the boxers and pants. Then he collapses back, tugging the covers over him. His head lolls to the side for a moment as he stares at the lamp.
If he's honest, his decision to leave it on is part that it feels like too much effort to turn it off, and part that he's not sure he wants to be alone in the dark right now.
Maybe in a bit, he thinks, but he's asleep before he can think anything else.
Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination
-----
Part 15
275 notes · View notes
heyimdove · 5 months
Text
Things of Note at @neil-gaiman ‘s NJPAC talk:
1. Do you people understand that he switches into accents when he reads? Do you people know he does a perfect Michael Sheen impression? did you know it’s also hot
2. He used to cold call publishers/mags to see if they’d publish his work. He’d lie when asked what other magazines he wrote for; they’d think he was more legitimate and would, therefore, be more likely to take him on themselves. “You couldn’t get away with that now” thanks to Google. Also, back then, “we had telephones and we used them,” but today’s publishers would not easily recover if you unexpectedly called them on the phone.
3. It was a personal point of pride for Neil to write for each of the magazines he’d claimed to have written for. He said “I didn’t lie. I was chronologically challenged.”
4. Neil made a deliberate effort to not be boxed in by publishers. He’d interviewed many authors who were unhappily boxed and did everything he could to avoid it, including declining big contracts from prestigious publishers (notably after American Gods). This is why he can write what he likes now. Comics writing spoiled him in this regard, as publishers mistook the medium for a genre, and therefore didn’t care what he wrote (so he wrote all the genres he wanted to in Sandman).
5. He hates Thomas Hardy thanks to being introduced to him in school. Regarding being forced to read Tess of the D’urbervilles, he said “I wouldn’t do that to a dog”. He hopes students, who might have liked him if they found him on their own, don’t encounter his work in school and hate him for it.
6. “The evil characters (you write) don’t possess you, you try to find the little bit of you in them….the little bit of you that is gloriously evil.”
7. “I touched the magic and passed it along” this was a line from Watching from the Shadows that especially moved me.
8. Terry was increasingly upset as the bidding on Good Omens increased (eventually reaching 150,000 - can’t remember if he said $ or £). For his part, when the book finally sold, Neil put on Iggy Pop’s Success and danced.
9. Anansi Boys should be out on Prime by the end of 2024!
10. Described Sandalphon as someone you want to “hit with a large oar”. (The woman next to me, who was extremely stingy with her applause, hooted like an owl at this and clapped til the last).
11. Pronounces Amazon as “Ama-zin” and Los Angeles as “Los Angelese”. This isn’t noteworthy, but I liked it enough to write it down.
12. “Being on a beach in bare feet” was the line that led Neil to realize David Tennant would be perfect for Crowley.
13. He is pictured on the ALA’s poster holding Wind in the Willows because, as a child, “it messed up my head.” He said he is “in love” with a chapter in the middle called The Piper at the Gates of Dawn where the characters meet Pan. It’s often left out of printings, which makes him sad because it is “strange, beautiful, luminous”.
14. TOATEOTL was originally planned to go to Broadway. Then, Covid. They did a “world tour” instead. Now that it’s wrapped, talks about Broadway are happening. He says all of adaptations of his work, this is his favorite.
15. “Disney’s Aladdin plays four times a day in Hell”
16. His favorite question of the night was “WHY did you think of the Other Mother?” He was tickled by the word choice of “why”
17. Asked the library in Sussex “What have you got in the way of really good horror for four year olds?” Obviously none existed so he wrote Coraline.
18. Talked about going viral for being in a falafel, seemed to marvel at the progression of the meme’s meaning.
19. “Tumblr is its own madness”
20. “Stephen King has fabulous stories about meeting fans in toilets, including being passed a book under the stall”
21. Read “The Day the Saucers Came” which I misheard initially as Sauces. Saucers is definitely better.
22. “You want to see me doing Dickens?” I laughed inappropriately at this. I was the only one.
23. I don’t want to say what pieces he read because I want you to buy tickets to his events. But it was very nice to be read to by Neil Gaiman.
It’s very worth it to go. I flew out from San Diego for this and would do it again in a heartbeat!
118 notes · View notes
hyuckbeam · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
hit or miss
you’re given a bet by your own best friend to finally earn you some kissing experience at the ripe age of 18, but what if he’s the one you’ve been wanting to kiss all along?
pairing | bff!haechan x reader
genre | fluff, just a bit of angst
warnings | y/n uses she/her pronouns, both y/n and hyuck are dumdums! kind of slow burn, curse words are explicitly mentioned, cousin!winter, i think that’s all but lmk if i missed anything!
wc | 4.3k words
note | this is pretty inspired by the webtoon “the kiss bet” because i currently have a hyper fixation on it and i absolutely love all the characters ;0; this is also way longer than intended but anyways,, i hope u enjoy! all rbs and likes are appreciated, thank you <3
Tumblr media
D-15.
“in three, two, one, happy birthday, y/n!” your best friend, haechan announces aloud for everyone in your apartment complex to hear at 12 in the morning.
“come on! make a wish before the candles blow out!” winter, your cousin, urges you with a big smile on her face.
having just finished your night time routine and prepared yourself for a night's worth of sleep, you were rather shocked to see them with one of those trendy bento cakes and rainbow colored party hats adorning their heads.
despite your confusion, you walk up towards them with a grateful smile resting upon your lips. “seriously, when did you guys plan this?”
“oh, it was all my- ow, hey!” haechan gets cut off midway through his statement because of a nudge from winter’s elbow.
“what he was trying to say was it was all my doing. you’re welcome bubs!” your cousin beams, eyes creasing into crescents. “though i’d wish you’d hurry up. this cake isn’t holding itself up for you, y’know?” she adds on rather playfully but you can tell she truly meant it.
gathering a deep breath, you blow out the candles and cheers erupt from the people you deem closest to you. winter then sets down the cake on your coffee table in relief as your best friend slings his arm over your shoulder.
“sooo y/n, got anything planned for the year? a small resolution or something like that, i don’t know.” he rambles off, suggesting the idea of having a goal to work towards now that you were deemed an adult (though, haechan kept referring to this as the year that marks your jail-ability era).
you feel a little tingly from his touch, even when you know the two of you are just friends and nothing more. what you’re feeling is probably just a phase. it’ll go away.
“i’m not really sure, got any ideas for me?” you ask the two instead, eyeing them both in a back and forth motion.
“we can always work on that dating experience of yours- last i remember, it was up to the high number count of… zero.” your cousin chips in from the side as she slices the cake for the three of you to share, her tone sarcastic while she teases you.
it’s true, you didn’t have a lot (re: any) of experience in the dating sector, but perhaps that could change starting this year. “that… might not be such a bad idea.”
haechan’s interest seems to have been piqued — he’s making that look. that specific expression where the corners of his lips turn upwards, a brow raised, and that glint in his eye. oh, you know it all too well.
“come on.” you urge the boy. “start sharing your idea. i can practically see your mind ready to explode.”
“well, since you’ve asked me ever so kindly. how ‘bout a bet?” he starts, taking a few steps towards you with that cocky expression of his. “i bet you 10 dollars to kiss someone in two months. not that hard, right?”
“what- you want me to kiss some random person for 10 bucks?” you gawk out in surprise.
he only shakes his head, “i never said it needed to be a stranger. just, someone in general.”
you processed the idea thoroughly, running all sorts of possible scenarios in your head. wouldn’t it be much easier to kiss… haechan himself? that just seemed like the most plausible approach for you.
he wasn't a stranger — the furthest from one. you were comfortable with him. the kiss didn’t have to mean anything (though it might mean a tiny bit more to you), and in addition, you’d be making some cash.
everything seemed to check out. the only problem was that you had to ask him to kiss you. still, surely this was better than any other alternative, right?
“i’ll do it but… can’t i just kiss you and get it over with?” you finally voice out your thoughts, pretending to make your question sound playful in case the request backfires on you.
“you’re my best friend, that’s a little odd, don’t you think so?” haechan replies in the same tone, lightly ruffling your hair before going over to retrieve a slice of cake from winter.
ouch. way to have your first bit of “dating experience” be your best friend… friend zoning you. what a lovely start to your 18th birthday.
Tumblr media
D-13.
a few days had passed since the bet you made with haechan had been established, but not one ounce of progress had been made.
to be fair, how were you supposed to kiss someone else when all you’ve ever wanted was for that kiss to be with your best friend? that’s tough luck.
you attending classes today doesn’t really help with your thoughts either, especially when both haechan and winter had been asking about said progress one after the other.
you’d be lying if they weren’t starting to give you a headache.
as if on cue, winter approaches you, some lecture books in hand and her bag slung on her shoulder. “y/n! how’s your progress?” here we go again.
“just as i told you yesterday, nothing yet.” you reply with a small sigh.
winter senses the frustration behind your words, encouraging her to suggest ideas to help you. “how about finding someone you like? it might make it easier for you know… to kiss them.”
“i don’t think that’s still a good- actually, you might just be onto something, minjeong.” your gears start to churn in your mind. in order to wash haechan off your mind, you might as well find someone else and maybe get an actual relationship out of it.
the idea was just perfect for you.
“have i ever told you how much i love you? i gotta go but i’ll see you after class, winter!” you excitedly bid her a goodbye, rushing to your classroom so you could better plan out your new gameplan.
though the most ideal situation was long gone, you now had a back up plan and you weren’t going to back down so easily from the bet.
you were now busily scribbling on your notepad, forgetting that a new student was to transfer into your class today. the teacher calls upon your attention and as you look up, your eyes land on a boy with great resemblance to a cute bunny.
apparently he’s the new transfer student.
the teacher gives him a moment to introduce himself. “hello everyone, my name is na jaemin. i hope we all get along!” so that’s his name, you thought to yourself.
surprisingly, he was told to take the seat in front of yours, offering you a small smile and a curt wave, one that you gladly return, before he takes his seat.
actually, maybe you really could forget haechan for just a teensy bit.
Tumblr media
D-6.
a week goes by without haechan seeing you once. an entire week. was he always this eager to see you? to bask in the warm sight that is you? he thinks he must be going crazy.
the only time he ever gets updates about you is through winter which aren’t much to go on. he does remember a key detail she mentioned previously about how you’ve been spending time with that new student, jaemin.
what was so special about him anyways? well, he was surely going to find out soon.
as the bell rings to signal the start of recess, he dashes out of his classroom, taking big steps towards yours.
there, haechan finds you in his seat and he’s about to approach you until he sees you’re in the middle of a conversation with the one and only, na jaemin.
“this is how you do this, right?” jaemin asks you, directing your sight to a piece of paper that has a bunch of math formulas written on it.
“yeah! i’m surprised you got that rather quickly.” you compliment the boy in front of you with a small laugh.
your thoughts on jaemin have changed drastically since the first time you met him. he’s a sweet boy, someone you could never take advantage of. it just felt wrong to you so you just dropped your entire plan as a whole.
it was alright to lose the bet. at least you kind of made a new friend out of it, right? you smile to yourself at that thought.
to haechan, however, your smile is so bright in jaemin’s presence, it’s practically blinding everyone in sight. have you ever smiled at him like that? wait- why does that matter?
he doesn’t like you, no way.
you’re best friends, yeah. his love for you is as platonic as can be — at least that’s what he tells himself.
for someone as bold as haechan, he can’t seem to find the confidence in him to walk towards your table and steal your attention. instead, he steps out of the classroom, unnoticed by you.
Tumblr media
D-5.
“JAEMIN DID WHAT!?” haechan yells into his phone, winter being on the receiving end of the call.
the girl tuts, “scream one more time and i’m hanging up on you. and yes, i heard he confessed to y/n. i don’t think she gave him an answer though.”
“sorry, look, i was just really surprised.” a deep sigh comes out from haechan before the call goes silent. he takes the time to process the situation, but the idea of you and jaemin being together just rubs him off the wrong way.
“doesn’t she see how bad he is for her?” he finally reasons out.
“uhuh, in what sense exactly?” winter retorts.
“he’s probably just using her to gain attention or something! can’t i look out for my own best friend?” the response is laughable, even to haechan, but he goes along with it.
winter laughs into the call, “are you even hearing yourself? that’s pretty baseless, even for you haechan.” she replies shortly afterwards. “seems to me like you’re jealous.”
“are you hearing yourself, winter? no i’m not! get your head screwed on properly!” haechan answers back in the same incredulous manner as she did to him just a few seconds ago. “who would i even be jealous of?”
“jaemin. who else? i think it’s pretty clear to most. you aren’t that great at managing your feelings, y’know-” the girl’s voice cuts off for a second, “-oh, i’m being called to dinner now but seriously, get yourself together haechan. i know you like my cousin. bye!”
the line goes beep and haechan tosses his phone onto his bed. she really did just leave him hanging like that. how could she after bringing that idea up?!
jealous? not a chance. haechan never gets jealous.
Tumblr media
D-4.
haechan wakes up the next day feeling tired, having not slept a wink after winter’s words kept replaying in his head.
i know you like my cousin.
you like my cousin.
you like her.
and these same words follow him as he makes it all the way to school. perhaps seeing you in school would help him understand his feelings better.
he really just wants this to be over with.
with trudged steps, he makes his way to your classroom and luckily enough for him, there you were already in class before the first bell rang.
he blames it on the lack of sleep but you look so ethereal sitting down in your chair as you bop your head lightly to the music that’s presumably playing on your earphones.
the sight is something to behold- that is until he pivots his head ever so slightly and sees jaemin accompanying you. god, why does he have to be there.
so maybe haechan does get jealous. sometimes.
maybe that’s why he acts without thinking, swiftly dragging you from your chair and out to the school courtyard despite your protests.
“hyuck let me go-” you grumble, tugging on your arm but he doesn’t budge one bit. it’s only when you reach a bench in the furthest part of the courtyard he decides to get go of your wrist.
“seriously, what is wrong with you?” you scoff out in disbelief. “this is the first time we’ve spoken in days. i think you could’ve just asked me if you really wanted to talk.” with the addition of those words, haechan finally realizes what he’s done. he knows it was wrong but he isn’t going to back down from the argument that was brewing between you two.
“me? how about you? you’ve been so lovey dovey with mr. perfect all this time! don’t you have yourself to blame on why we haven’t seen each other in so long?” he spat out coldly.
your heart sinks, and yet, you can’t help but feel even more enraged. its true, you’re part of the reason for the lack of communication between you two. after all, communication is a two way system. but doesn’t that also mean he’s also to blame?
“i enjoy jaemin’s company a lot! is that so wrong?” you shoot back, biting your bottom lip before mumbling the latter part of your statement. “at least he isn’t as grumpy as the person standing in front of me.”
ouch.
the boy hears this and gets ticked off even more. maybe it really is the lack of sleep but he seriously can’t understand her reasoning anymore. instead, he assumes she’s just doing all of this for the bet.
“do you really want to win the bet so bad? if that’s what you want, just kiss me and be over with it. i’m literally letting you win. you can stop seeing jaemin now.”
and that’s when it hits you a little.
why is he bringing the bet up all of a sudden when you just want a genuine relationship with jaem- oh. he couldn’t possibly see you as someone like that right? he said it himself! he doesn’t like you and even denied your request to kiss him a few weeks ago.
but, if that were all true, what other explanation would there be to his actions?
he takes your silence as a no, prompting him to leave you in the courtyard all alone.
you couldn’t seem to understand him at all no matter how hard you tried.
as soon as you got home from classes that same day, you rushed yourself back home and into the comfort of your bed and pillows — treating them as if they were your closest confidants and cried while you shared your troubles.
it wasn’t productive on your end but it was much needed for you to at least think straight. you’d been bottling your contemplations all day long after all.
here you are laying lifeless on your bed, using all your braincells to dicern what the fuck happened earlier this morning.
you know haechan doesn’t like you. you’ve said it to yourself so many times now.
maybe he’s just jealous you’ve been spending more time with jaemin because, although you have different intentions before, you realized you couldn’t see him in that way nor had the heart to just use him for your own gain.
haechan was a different story though. you feel flushed just thinking about him, knowing full well the both of you are in the middle of an argument between each other.
remembrance of the frustration hits, making you groan at the thought of having to remedy it. if you and haechan had anything in common, it would be the stubbornness you both share.
the last time you both got into an argument this big was back in junior high. neither of you spoke to the other for an entire month. it got so bad that both your parents had to call each other up to devise a way to get an apology out from the both of you.
though it would make the entire situation much easier, your parents no longer delve into these types of problems — and neither do haechan’s. you’re both all alone to fix this one yourselves and you wish you’d been more grateful to your parents for mending your relationship with haechan.
deep down, you already know the both of you will struggle to find the right timing, but you certainly hope that day would come soon. you didn’t exactly like being away from him either (even if he made you feel like shit for the rest of the day).
you decide to sleep off your worries for the night, hoping and praying that tomorrow would be a better day for you.
Tumblr media
D-3.
tomorrow is not any better of a day.
jaemin and haechan both invited you to eat with them for lunch which quickly escalated into a light argument between the two. you couldn’t even bring yourself to butt into their conversation, seeing how they were fighting over something so silly.
“i’m her best friend, we do this pretty much everyday!” you hear haechan yell at jaemin, his frustration for the other getting the best of him. “plus, i need to talk with her. without you.”
“if the two of you are just best friends, then what gives you the right to dictate her answers?” jaemin fires back, keeping a calm and collected appearance throughout.
this shuts haechan up and the entire cafeteria goes dead silent. oh boy, did you want to curl up into a little hole. everyone was staring and you didn’t like that one bit.
nevertheless, you decided to be the bigger person — uttering a small apology to jaemin before walking off to the table you usually sat at with haechan — the latter following you a few steps behind.
neither of you speak as you begin to eat your separate meals, another sign the relationship between you two was starting to fade out into dust.
winter joins your lunch table shortly after witnessing the drama unfold, she looks at haechan with an unreadable expression and the boy stays quiet during the whole meal.
didn't he say he wanted to talk? an apology for the day before would have been nice.
you get fed up by the silence, placing your food back on the tray before picking it up. you mutter a quiet “i can’t seem to understand you at all.” directed at hyuck before leaving and switching over to the table where jaemin and his friends are sitting.
it all happened too fast and haechan didn’t realize you were leaving until you already did. he really did want to talk but how was he supposed to do that after having that situation with jaemin?
he wanted to calm down first but you had other plans. you really left him in shambles this time.
winter can’t help but sigh at the ongoing conflict. she silently wishes she wasn’t involved this much if it was going to turn out like this.
Tumblr media
D-2.
haechan knows he truly has to make it up to you (including a long overdue explanation of why he’s been acting weirdly the past few days) but doesn’t know how to do that. apologies never came easy to him. his mind couldn’t help but go blank everytime he tried thinking of a way to approach you without making things more complicated than they already are.
the sheer amount of times he’s hit a brick wall has him calling the only person who probably knows more about you than he, himself, does.
he picks up his phone, searching through his contacts before landing on a single person, now waiting for the phone to ring.
“hello?” winter’s voice reaches him through the call. “i knew you’d call after what happened at the cafeteria.”
it takes a moment for haechan to answer, “maybe if jaemin wasn’t so aggressive–”
“you both were. now spill, have you gotten your feelings sorted yet?” the girl pushes his dramatics aside, getting straight to the point.
“i… think i do. you were right all along.” haechan finishes. although it was hard for him to admit at first, now that he’s actually said it out loud, it might be the first time he’s been feeling a sense of clarity after so long.
winter hums at his confession. “at least you’re finally taking a step in the right direction. now, to win her back…” she smiles to herself, already having a plan in mind.
you, on the other hand, have been seeing haechan and winter together often for the past week. naturally, your mind begins to wonder if your own cousin is the reason why haechan rejected you way back during your small birthday celebration.
the evidence matches up pretty well — he probably couldn’t reject you directly because she was in the room with the two of you that day. he isn’t spending as much time with you anymore because he’s spending time with her.
they look good together.
those words linger in your head more than you’d like to admit.
you feel cast aside by the people you’ve known practically your entire life but you don’t have much of a choice but to return to jaemin’s company. after all, you chose to eat the rest of your lunch at his table instead of the one that brought familiarity to you.
Tumblr media
D-DAY.
day after day, the two of you just seemed to grow even more distant and you wondered if the end of your long-term friendship was nigh approaching. you barely saw him roaming through the halls of campus anymore, much less your cousin.
you didn’t dislike the new friend group you had (jaemin introducing you to his friends after you finally told him about your situation with haechan, but you couldn’t help but feel… dissatisfied with your current situation.)
as your class ends, you prepare yourself for another silent walk home. despite having those new friends, you felt lonelier than you ever had. you missed them. you missed him. and yet, life seemed to have other plans for you.
even trudging down these halls filled with other students made you lonely.
truthfully, you would do anything to have them back- a pain to your forehead snaps you out of your thoughts. you had bumped into someone. well, not just someone, but the person you’ve been longing for the most.
haechan. he was right in front of you after who knows how long it’s been.
you felt like crying on the spot but held in your emotions to appear like your life was anything but lost. haechan knew that look on your face, presuming you haven’t been well ever since the two of you have spoken. he takes your hands that have slumped to your sides into his, and the small gesture reminded you of the warmth he’d bring into your life.
“are you up for a short conversation perhaps?” you only nod and he takes that as a signal in the right direction, though, he isn’t used to you acting around him like this. oh boy, this was going to be more than a short conversation.
haechan leads you into the gymnasium and the two of you sit down by the bleachers with no sight of other students in the area.
“before you get mad- i wanted to apologize first. i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. i was childish.” he begins, holding eye contact with you to show his sincerity. “frankly, i was jealous. jealous you spent more time with jaemin, and you seemed to enjoy you time with him more than the times we hang out together. i shouldn’t have made you feel sad in any way, but i did and that’s completely my fault. i’m sorry.” you know his words hold both his feelings and the truth.
he wasn’t going to lie to you. he never once did during the time you knew each other.
however, what he admitted to had you flustered.
he was jealous of you and jaemin? it was a little hard to believe until you remembered the latter confessed to you the past week. oh god, did word of that spread out? nevermind that, what happened between you and jaemin was the least of your worries, the boy in front of you was. what if haechan got the wrong idea from the rumors?
“it’s not completely your fault. we both were pretty stubborn.” you reply, a soft chuckle leaving your lips to ease the tension between you two. “and if… if you’re curious, i never returned jaemin’s feelings back.
haechan gets pretty taken aback by your statement, now wondering why you brought it up. “oh… i know.”
“you knew? did winter tell you?” you question in anticipation. “i guess the both of you are pretty close now.”
“she did but i swear our friendship is nothing like that!” it was his turn to get flustered. “she could never replace your spot in my life.”
“i’m a little confused though after all of this…” you gesture out, referring to the situation that has just recently moved past you two. “what spot do i even have?”
he pauses, taking his time to think of the right words he wants to tell you but they all get stuck in his throat. the expression on your face showed how you took his silence negatively, prompting him to speak. “i like you. i couldn’t admit it even to myself for the longest time and-” having enough of his rambling, you inch a little closer and give him a kiss on the lips.
it’s brief, and yet, it continues to linger on his lips. “you kissed me.”
“why do you think i never gave jaemin an answer to jaemin’s confession?”
“so you were really saving it for me? i’m honored.” he chuckles out, playfully holding his hand to his chest.
“well, you should be.” you add on with the same bright smile he’s seen you flash at jaemin, except this time, it was absolutely for him.
“i guess that also means you won the bet?” he recalls, a brow raising at you.
you give him a light nudge on his shoulder while suppressing a giggle, “oh, shut up and just kiss me. you owe me 10 bucks by the way.”
Tumblr media
tags !!
776 notes · View notes
cressthebest · 13 days
Text
Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 14
chapter 25:
1. james accepting his own death will forever and always be heartbreaking
2. “Though, honestly, James had meant it when he said that he wishes it had been Regulus. Maybe it's a strange, pyschosexual thing, but he feels like he's sort of been flirting with Regulus and his daggers this entire time, so to be stabbed by him would surely have been more satisfying. Regulus would have made sure James felt it, adrenaline or not. He isn't sure why that's so attractive to him, but it really is. Maybe James is in shock. Maybe James actually does have a knife kink. Maybe James is just in love, and he wants anything he can get from Regulus, even if it's literal death.”
ik this is a big chunk of quote, but like what. james. james. james my boy. these are wild thoughts to have. also, you definitely have a knife kink, but only for regulus. not on anyone else. james. you. dear, wtf (i love you) 😀 sir.
3. god, james is so earnest on his death bed. i am also, fyi dramatically sobbing
4. shit shit shit shit no. SIRIUS!!! SOMEONE!! HELP SIRIUS! HES LOSING HIS BEST FRIEND AND HE IS NOT OKAY
5. zar is correct. it is sock-sock-shoe-shoe. that is the correct way.
6. 😀😧 regulus is troy. not the trojan horse, but instead troy. i-
7. “James is dying, and Regulus hates him. James is dying, and Regulus loves him. James is dying, and Regulus hates and loves him, because they were always one and the same.”
stop no, this is actually cruel. this is heartless. i don’t know how someone with a good conscious or loving heart could write this
8. god no shit no. i finally stopped sobbing. then there was the line about james asking reg to go to dinner with his parents because effie and monty are used to feeding two kids. i- shit. shit. no
9. HE’S TELLING REG TO TAKE BACK THE HAT??? NO THIS IS CRUEL
10. i actually want to quote this entire chapter, but i cannot do that. so therefore i would like to offer up my tears. and reg deciding there’s no point in going home if james potter wasn’t with him, because james potter was his home
11. 😐 he threw food away, but kept the handcuffs? reg dear, wtf
12. REG IS GONNA SACRIFICE HIMSELF TO LET JAMES GO HOME?? HELL NAW
13. HE CALLED JAMES BABY??? AGAIN??? (fwi i have voice recorded and sent sobbing over this fic to my irl marauders friend. hi iko!!)
14. 😟😟 oh god damn. he actually went in the crimson river. wait shit. how the hell is he gonna survive this?
15. “In his panic, in his haze of pain, it's Sirius he instinctively calls for.” 😀😀 just rip out my heart, it would be less painful
16. THE VENOM!! THE THREAT TO KILL HIMSELF IF HE DOESN’T GET REGULUS BACK!! THIS IS LITERATURE AT ITS FINEST
17. regulus is just tossed out the fucking river. they both survive. lmao this is kinda funny
18. not the symbol of the hallows being the deathly hallows. yikes.
19. i’m kinda disappointed that slughorn gets a POV cause like, that POV needs to be given to one of my faves, so they can be guaranteed to live.
20. dorcas my beloved. she’s such a bad bitch
21. okay wait, i might actually grow to like slughorn as a character. he’s being brought to the phoenix. so like, maybe he’ll be super helpful
22. LMAOOO DORCAS MY QUEEN!! “”How does it feel gamemaker? … Are you entertained?”” AHHHHHHHHH
23. unnamed woman: my guess is mcgonagal
24. after reading the authors notes, i realize we have been blessed. zar decided that reg would not die in the arena. and thank fucking god. thank god. i would not be okay if i read ahb then this. yikes
38 notes · View notes
wardenparker · 1 year
Text
Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 10
Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​
Tumblr media
When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Fluffy Jack being old fashioned, low key voice kink, reference to food play, panty ripping because we are shameless, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, unexpected exhibitionist/voyeur kink Summary: You and Jack take a step forward on the last night of your family’s stay in Louisville, and Tex returns home with his newly minted soulmate just in time for Bobby’s going away party. Notes: I love getting to a sex scene and being surprised to find a character has a kink that I didn’t expect 😂 As always, the chosen gif has no reflection on the reader’s appearance. It’s the emotion that counts.
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue
Tumblr media
On the last day of your family's stay in Louisville, an adventure to the Louisville Slugger factory and museum ended with personalized souvenir bats for everyone and extremely good moods all around. Tomorrow morning your siblings will go their respective ways to return home and your parents will go on to spend a few days at Dollywood, and you and Jack will take another step toward your new normal. The first therapy session went well, and you have another scheduled for next week, so really...it's remarkable how settled you feel considering it was only a few days ago that you were a literal captive in an abattoir in New York City. It seems an entire lifetime away, except for the nightmares, which even seem to dissipate when you wake up from them in Jack's arms in Jack's bed.
“How about we grill tonight?” Jack suggests to you, scratching his head. It’s been a trial trying to keep you from working too hard to play hostess to your family. He can see how much you love it, but you are still recovering.
"Are you thinking burgers, or something more elaborate?" Hanging out in the backyard has been everyone's favorite place to be anyway. A little backyard barbecue for their last night in Louisville might be a fun idea. You won't point out - this time - that he's chosen a method of cooking that he excels at instead of you.
“Maybe a little bit of both?” Jack offers. “Hamburgers for the kiddos and I can introduce your family to Kentucky barbecue. Just gotta start the smoker.”
"We can do that." Sitting on the porch swing with him while your brother-in-law plays with the kids, you tip your head back to lean on his shoulder. "I can get my sister to help me with cornbread and coleslaw. Since I know you'll watch me like a hawk if I try to do it myself."
“You are supposed to be resting and I caught you in the kitchen first thing this morning.” Jack huffs at you, narrowing his eyes playfully. He doesn’t want you to feel smothered but this time is good for you to rest.
"I am resting, honey." The mere minutes of time it took you to put together a tray of things for bagels and some fruit salad compared to what you would normally do is laughable, but you know Jack is just trying to take care of you. "I didn't even start baking for Bobby’s party tomorrow. I had like six different things planned but I promise I’ve narrowed it down to only things I can do tomorrow morning."
“I swear, you don’t know the meaning of rest.” Jack grumbles. “I’m going to have to whisk you away to a private island where the only thing you can do is drink whiskey and lay in the sun.”
"Sounds like a very nice vacation." You grin, having grown to love the difference in Jack's affectionate grumbles versus when he is actually upset. When it's affectionate, it means you can tease him. "I don't think I've taken a vacation since I was still in high school."
“That’s a damn shame.” He huffs at you, watching you stick your tongue out at him. He reaches out and taps the tip of your tongue with his finger.
"Never had the time or the money." Shrugging makes it seem like it's not a big deal, especially because you don't want to get bogged down in anything too serious when Jack has been in such a good mood today. "No rest - or vacations - for the wicked."
“Then once you get the restaurant rollin’ we’ll have to go somewhere.” Jack decides. “You’ll tell me where you’ve always wanted to go and that’s what we’ll do.”
There are so many places you've dreamed of going. Places you've dreamed of seeing and food you've dreamed of eating, that you shrug your shoulders and sigh wistfully. "Japan, Australia, Morocco, France, Scotland, Thailand, Mexico, Egypt... we could go anywhere and I'd enjoy it. Just...as long as we do it together."
Jack chuckles, opening his arms and inviting you in for a hug. Those have become second nature for the two of you now. “So one big world tour.”
"Maybe." The sound and vibration of his laugh warms through you like summer sun. "Maybe we'll choose a different place every year for as long as we want."
“I like that.” He knows you would want to try the food. Spend time in each location and really learn them. “We could do that easily.”
"Then that's what we'll do." Curled into his arms, with your head on his shoulder and breath mingling together, it's easy to think of the future in such wide open terms. Like anything is possible. With him, it really feels like it is. "Maybe one day we'll find a favorite, but we'll try as many different places as we want."
“So you okay with me cookin’ tonight?” Jack asks you softly. “Catering to you for once?”
"As long as you don't stop me from helping just a little." When he frowns you put on a pronounced pout, being playful if nothing else. "I hate having nothing to do Jack, you know that. I promise to have help and to keep it to a minimum."
“Just the sides.” He tells you pointedly. “You won’t touch the grill or the smoker.”
"Deal." One hand held out to him to seal the deal, the other is twined through his at your shoulder. Anyone who could see the two of you now would be astonished to hear that you were ever at odds - all they would see is a couple that is completely enchanted with each other.
He grins and winks at you. “Now you get to experience some of my cookin’ and I expect you to be truthful.” He warns you. “No tryin’ to baby my feelin’s.”
"I promise to be honest." You give him a mock salute with a very serious face. "But I believe in you. You have too good of a palette to be a terrible cook."
“I make my own sauce and rubs.” He boasts, smirking slightly and winking at you.
"Oh yeah?" He's like a peacock almost instantly, chest puffed up and chin tilted to put his nose proudly in the air, and you can't help but giggle when he's playful like this. "You planning on showing off for me? Give me a run for my money so we're the ones all our friends want a dinner invitation from?"
"Absolutely." Jack teases. "They will want to come over when I'm cookin' for free and come to haunt your restaurant and pay dearly."
"Just think of what we'll be able to achieve when we join forces." Placing a kiss on both of his cheeks, you drop one more on his forehead before sitting back in his arms again. "This house seems made for summer parties. It's going to be fun."
"I think that was the point." Jack admits as he looks around the house that had quickly come to feel more like a home with you and your family invading every nook and cranny.
"If summer comes and I haven't driven you totally crazy, we'll have to throw a party." Even though you know he has a summer birthday, you would never bring it up now that you know why he doesn't celebrate the day. It would just be a nice summer get together for friends, nowhere near that day in August.
"Whenever you want, sugar." Jack drops a kiss on your nose and smirks. "Now....let me go get everything ready for you to have the best barbecue you've ever had." He promises.
"Yes, sir." You shift away from him and stretch, tossing him a wink before you skip down the porch steps to join your siblings in sunbathing near what will soon be the vegetable garden. As soon as you have the time and the supplies to make it one. "You guys sick of me yet?" You laugh, knowing that the three of you rarely got tired of each other's company. "Ready to go home tomorrow?"
"I've decided I'm going to move here." Your sister is kidding, but she smiles lazily over at you as she lounges in the deck chair that she has claimed as her own for the entire trip. "There is something about this place that I can't quite clock, but it's the safest I've ever felt anywhere."
"Now you see why I fell in love with it so fast." Nothing would be happier than for Eliza and Ed and the kids to move down to Louisville, but you know they're happy where they are. Only a new job would get them to even consider it, and Statesman isn't exactly hiring doctors at the moment. "One day here and I knew it was going to be the right decision."
Your parents are down at the distillery again, your father falling in love with Statesman all over again and your mother shamelessly indulging him while you are here. Eliza looks around and then stares at you seriously. "Is that why you came running to New York looking heartbroken?"
"It's..." You blow out a breath, falling back on the lawn chair beside her. "It's a complicated story."
"And?" She senses that it's not exactly something that you want to talk about right now, so she decides not to press. "You're sure you are happy here?"
“Jack and I had trouble in the beginning, you know that.” Your sister, above anyone else, knows that you struggled with where your heart lay when you first arrived at Statesman. She was on the receiving end of every phone call. “We…we had a fight. That’s why I went to the city. We had a screaming match and I got overwhelmed. It was just supposed to be a couple of days fucking around New York with Matt to take my mind off things and…” When you shrug, it’s half so you can avoid talking about being kidnapped and half to keep up the front that what you were involved in is an ongoing investigation. “Things got out of hand. But we’re talking now. And Jack and I are making things work. So…I actually am happy. It just took a little while to get here.”
“I still don’t understand why he was so resistant to another soulmate.” Eliza huffs, still not completely trusting that this is the whole story. More like your mother than she’s ever willing to admit.
“He loved Abigail a lot. Isn’t that understandable?” Since Jack had said he was okay with giving your family the old story of what happened to his first wife and unborn child - what he had thought was the truth for so long - so don’t worry about talking to them about it. Your brother and sister do their best to be understanding and sympathetic people in general. “He felt like it was being disloyal to her memory to have another. And considering second soulmates are supposed to be a myth anyway? I get it.”
“I guess.” She frowns and sighs. “I just love you, you know that right? That’s the only reason I’m worrying.”
“I know.” You loop your arm around her and hug her tight. “I love you too. And you’re entitled to kick his ass if he ever makes me sad again, how about that?”
“You know I will.” That is a promise. You are too loving to have your heart stomped on by some – albeit hot – cowboy.
“But either way, he’s making dinner for us tonight.” The promise of good food will perk up anyone in your family, and you laugh when both of your siblings immediately sit up. “I’m taking volunteers to help with sides.”
“I’ll help you.” Your brother and sister both immediately volunteer. The way you have been napping has them both aware that something has happened to cause their normally tireless sister to be a little slower.
“With three sets of hands we might even manage to make some dessert without Jack worrying.” You flash them both a smile. “I know you’ll be back for the opening in barely a couple of weeks, but I’m so glad you guys came to visit.”
“Of course we were coming.” Eliza looks almost offended that you would even think that they wouldn’t come. “We were worried sick until your co-worker called us to tell us you were okay. Mom almost came through the phone at her.”
“I’m sorry you were worried.” It sits like a lump in your throat, the heaviness of what really happened, but for once you’re glad you can’t tell them the truth. If they knew what had really happened to you last weekend they would never let you out of their sight again. Just like Jack is doing. “Everything is okay now. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah but you know them.” Your brother rolls his eyes like he wasn’t the one who had filed the report. “They like to worry.”
“Sure, Matty. It was all them.” You shake your head and pinch his side. “I’ll thank mom and dad for contacting the police, then.”
“Shut up.” He grumbles at you, giving you a pout of brotherly affection. Of course he had been worried. You had come to him so upset and on the verge of shutting down and then disappeared.
"Love you too, big brother." It might be said with teasing, but you reach over to give him a hug and pull your siblings up with you to head into the kitchen.
Jack, for his part, takes the role of providing your meal very seriously. He had Champ keep the brisket over at his house to marinate last night and it’s not too long before it’s put on the smoker to fill the back yard with its mouth watering scent.
When your parents eventually wander back from their last distillery tour and tasting, the sides are ready, dessert is done, and Jack very nearly has the brisket finished. Better timing couldn't have been achieved if he had timed it all out with care.
"I don't know what to tell you, kiddo," your mother grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when she hugs you. "But it smells like your soulmate has a talent for the only cooking skill you never worked on."
“She doesn’t know how to grill?” Jack asks as he pops back into the kitchen to get a pan. “I’m surprised about that.”
“It’s less doesn’t know how and more that the work never went into mastering it.” Your father shrugs, leaning back against the counter when Jack comes in. “Not a lot of barbecue in classical French cuisine, I guess.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that she isn’t lacking for barbecue when she’s got a hankerin’ for it.” Jack tells him, knowing that he would keep the smoker running if you wanted him to.
“There was…maybe a year or so? When she was a teenager.” He looks to your mother for clarification, who nods. “Where she would always request it. Dinners, special occasions, everything. Any time we were eating as a family she wanted to go for barbecue.” Your father chuckles at the memory, obviously a fond one now. “Turned out she had a crush on one of the people who owned the one barbecue place in our little town.”
Jack chuckles and shakes his head, totally able to see it. “I don’t blame her if that’s the case. I’d eat a lot of anything she makes to spend more time with her.”
“I think,” your father intones, crossing his arms and glancing at his wife - his own soulmate - before turning back to Jack. “That maybe it’s prudent for all of us to have a chat before we leave?”
For a moment, the small, indulgent smile on Jack’s face slips. Worried that your parents might not approve of the relationship after all. Despite being polite, that doesn’t mean that they had any intention of allowing Jack with their daughter. “Why don’t you follow me outside.” He glances towards the kitchen where you and your siblings are laughing. “More privacy.”
The smack on the arm your mother gives her husband before he turns to follow Jack outside is pointed, and she hangs back to sit with her grandchildren before they need their nap. This conversation is not her idea, and she doesn’t think it’s necessary.
When Jack finds just your father following him, he turns back towards the outdoor kitchen. “Beer? Or does the conversation warrant something stronger?” He asks over his shoulder.
“Beer is good.” He’s not trying to scare the younger man, after all. Not trying, but if Jack does happen to shake in his boots a little, Jeff won’t be upset about that.
“Sounds good.” Jack moves over to the small fridge and pulls out two beers. Popping the cap off the tops and handing one to your father. Waiting for the other man to start the conversation as he takes a pull of the beer.
A sip of his drink comes first, but Jeff doesn't get in Jack's way as he moves around the grill area to tend to dinner. "Look," he leans back against the porch railing. "You're not kids. I'm not trying to intimidate you or dictate your actions, or anything like that. But she's my little girl and I'd be remiss if I didn't at least talk to you about her."
“I understand where you are coming from.” Jack does, he really does. He probably would have the same conversation if he was the father of a daughter. “What would you like to know?”
"It's less what I want to know and more of what I want to make sure that you know." He admits, taking another sip of his beer before he puts the bottle down beside him. "She was never the little girl that played princess first, or wrote her boyfriend's name out on her notebooks, or planned out her wedding with her friends. Not that we ever saw. But her baby sister...when Eliza wanted to do those things, it would make her sister just light up. It was like..." he sighs, taking another sip and looking for the words. "Like she was waiting for permission to dream. I know we raised her to be quick and smart and self-sufficient, but I'd hate to think that she's gone into adulthood with that same hesitancy. Just...just make sure she talks to you, Jack. That she opens up about what she wants. Because the only answer she ever used to give was that she wanted her own restaurant, and I know there's got to be more than that."
“I will.” Jack nods, frowning slightly as he stares at his bottle, the heat already making the condensation slide down the sides. “I’ve not been a good soulmate so far.” It might not be the best idea to be this honest, but he feels like he needs to be. “I was a pretty rotten one, and I hurt her. But–” he sighs. “I want nothing more than to make her happy. To give her the world if I can. To travel to all the places she wants to go, do the things that she wants to do. I want to make a life with her.”
"You'll make it up to her." Your father doesn't even make it a suggestion, it's more like an order. "Or else she won't have anything to do with you. I learned that when she was a teenager."
“Everyday.” Jack promises easily, taking another swig of his beer as he tries to dispel the image of your limp body in the back of that SUV. “Lucky for me, she’s got an amazing capacity for forgiveness.”
"Gets that from her mother." He huffs an awkward kind of chuckle in return. "I hold a grudge like a motherfucker. But those women? Angels. Who knows how they manage it." Both men are silent for a moment, letting the thought linger between them. "Are there plans?" He asks after the quiet lingers a little too long and becomes awkward. "You and her, have you made plans for that life you want to build?"
“I imagine there will be soon.” Jack frowns slightly, not sure how much you’ve told your father. “I’ve been married before. My soulmate. She was– she was killed while pregnant.” Jack explains quietly. “But I do remember asking her daddy for permission to marry her.” His eyes met your father’s. “When we are ready for that, I expect I’ll be makin’ a trip up to see you.”
“Honestly a little surprised you’re not asking right now,” your father admits, holding Jack’s gaze. “But I’m not going to rush you.”
“I want her to be comfortable with the idea.” Jack admits softly. “And I want to make sure that my past doesn’t haunt her.”
“Most people wouldn’t wait for the adjustment period.” As much as Jeff thinks of it as his job to protect his three kids, he knows you and your siblings are all grown. The oldest has been married and divorced and the youngest has a husband and two kids of her own. You have always been the question mark in the family, right up until he saw you with Jack. There’s no question in his mind now that this is the person you’ve been waiting for - second soulmate or otherwise. “I tell you what, Jack.” He sighs, glancing back over his shoulder at the house to make sure you’re not nearby. “When you’re ready, I have her grandmother’s ring in the safe at home. It’s nothing too flashy, but her grandma Jane meant the world to her and I know she’d be happy to wear it.”
“Thank you.” Jack flashes your father a grin and sighs in relief. “I have a feeling that time will come sooner than I imagine, but we’ll see.” He chuckles.
“Whenever the two of you decide is best.” Is it the life he imagined for you from the time you were just a little peanut in his arms? Maybe not. But you’re not the woman he imagined all those years ago, either. You’re better — you’re you.
Jack nods, grateful that it’s not a different kind of conversation but that’s not a bad thing. “I have talked to her about moving in.” He offers your father. “So maybe I should ask you for your permission.” He ponders.
The other man chuckles quietly, feeling like he’s listening to Jack ponder out loud. “Should I bring the ring down when we come back for the opening?”
“I think that would be very appropriate.” Jack agrees, frowning slightly as he wonders if you would feel overwhelmed if he proposed to you after the opening of your restaurant or if it would just add happiness to the occasion. “So let me formally ask you.” Jack sets his bottle down and straightens his shoulders. “Your daughter is my soulmate, and I love her. I want to protect her and cherish her with everything that I am. May I have your blessing to ask her to marry me?”
“Keep making her happy. And keep her talking to you.” Your father puts down his own bottle and straightens up, putting his hand out to Jack. “And for the love of god, don’t elope. Her mother would be broken-hearted.”
“Never.” Jack can promise that. He didn’t do it with Abigail and he wouldn’t take that away from you. Even if it was something small and intimate, he wants you to have the wedding you want.
“Then you have my blessing, for whatever kind of life you want to build together.” You would huff and call them both old-fashioned for this, but the truth is that this is just two people trying their best to take care of you. “Be good to her, Jack.”
He hadn’t been. He knows this. However, he planned on making sure that you were never distressed or upset because of him again. “Yes sir.” He nods solemnly, the seriousness of the moment not lost on him. “Thank you.”
“There you two are.” It hadn’t taken an extreme amount of effort to find them, but the table is set and everything is ready except for the meat. “Do you need another set of hands to help, babe?”
“Nawww, I should have it.” Jack immediately turns towards you with a slow, sugary smile. A little emotional from the conversation and he pulls you close for a quick kiss. “About to pull everything off.”
“Whatever you two were talking about, keep it up,” you tease, not the least bit embarrassed to steal a second kiss with your father right there. Jack is so soft right now that you wouldn’t sacrifice it for anything.
******
Dinner turned out to be a complete success, everyone raving over Jack’s barbecue. Making him smirk at you and volunteering his services whenever you wanted some for a special at your restaurant when it opens. Now with everyone’s bellies full and the evening winding down, Jack sends you ahead to bed to get ready while he finishes cleaning up the kitchen, figuring you might like to shower or soak in a bath.
Sometimes you swear you would have accepted the invitation to move in with Jack based on the master bathroom alone. The powerful shower with seemingly unlimited hot water is the best you’ve ever experienced, and the tub is definitely big enough for two people to lounge in. He had insisted that you bring over your bathrobe when you brought a few things from your house for the week, so now it’s hanging from the rack beside the marble countertop for when you step out. Smelling like him is a small bonus, considering Jack’s soap and shampoo smell like they were made for a lumberjack who stands on top of mountains in the crisp, cold morning to watch sunrise, and you end up just luxuriating in the hot water until you hear him come into the bedroom. That’s when you shut off the water and step out, wrapping yourself up in the terry cloth robe like a warm hug.
Walking into the bedroom finds it empty and Jack smirks as he looks towards the bathroom, knowing you are in there. He needs to shower, since he smells like a smoker, but he can wait until you are out. Instead, he's standing around looking at the small changes that you have made to his once cold bedroom. Things that are almost overlooked but it's very obvious to a man who has been a bachelor for nearly twenty years. The small notebook on the side of the bed you had claimed, where you write recipe ideas when they come to you. The way your general items are scattered on the dresser. He likes it.
“Hey handsome.” It doesn’t matter how ridiculous you look, dripping wet in a bath towel and fuzzy slippers, you open the bathroom door to let him in if he wants to share some while you brush your hair and teeth. “I know I’ve already said it, but dinner was amazing.”
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He smirks at you and comes up to hold onto your waist, wrapping around you to kiss your ear. You hum as you load your toothbrush up and tilt your head to allow him more access to you. "You’re lookin' fresh faced and pretty tonight."
“And smelling very manly,” you joke, turning your head to kiss him properly in between his exploration of your neck and before you start brushing your teeth. Before or after is fine. During would be a bit messy.
“I like the way you smell.” His scent on your body drives him crazy and there has been more than one time where he’s had to take care of the nagging lust that always lives right under the surface since he's given into being near you.
You smile coyly at him in the mirror, raising one eyebrow. “I smell like you,” you point out before starting to brush your teeth. Not that you mind at all. Not even a little, actually.
“Yeah, sugar.” Jack’s voice dips down and he brushes another kiss over your skin. “Like I’ve wrapped myself around you and rubbed myself all over your body.”
The most articulate sound you can manage right now is a groan as you process that image - the therapist had said you were both clear headed enough for sex if it was what you both wanted, but you haven’t taken that step. So far you’ve been too tired from your recovery, so it’s been slow nights of drowning in each other’s kisses in bed - with Jack’s hands down your panties if things got rambunctious.
He chuckles against your skin, feeling himself start to harden. “But right now sugar? I need to clean up. Get the smell of smoke off me.”
"What if I like the smell of smoke?" You pose, spitting out excess toothpaste long enough to pout at him and then grin when he meets your eyes in the mirror. "Go clean up, baby. I'm going to get in bed and read."
Jack grunts, aware that his cock is twitching against your ass and he pulls his hips back. He doesn’t want to push you even if he knows you want to.
You've lost track of time, by the time Jack comes out of the bathroom, and look up over the top of your book when you spy him striding into the room. Squeaky clean but still damp from just toweling off, that towel is now wrapped around his waist when he comes into the bedroom to fish for a pair of boxers to sleep in. Fuck he looks good like that...you might be staring, but you don't care.
Jack knows you are looking and it feeds into his ego like nothing else. No one night stand cooing and lovin’ on him has the effect of his soulmate staring discreetly. He smirks at himself as he turns towards the drawer and ‘accidentally’ drops his towel.
"Whoops." It comes with a half-snort because you know damn well that he didn't do it by accident, and you set your bookmark back in your book to put it on the side table. "I'm sure that was very clumsy of you. And fully unintentional."
Jack throws a look over his shoulder with a grin. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He draws playfully. “Ain’t you supposed to be makin’ recipes? Or readin’?”
“Nice try.” Even if you hadn’t read it before, no book is more interesting than your bare assed naked soulmate. Especially when he’s previously been very careful about modesty to keep the both of you under control.
His chuckle accompanies him reaching into the drawer to pull out a pair of boxers. “Something you like on display, sugar? Didn’t think you liked tiny asses.”
It earns him another little laugh, and you pull the blankets back on his side of the bed. “I don’t keep my hand in your back pocket when we walk around because my fingers are cold, baby.”
“And here I was thinkin’ that you were trying to warm ‘em up.” Jack puts on a thicker accent for you right now, knowing how much it seems to affect you.
“Get in bed, cowboy.” It’s practically an order, but edged with enough begging to stroke Jack’s ego like he’s stroking your voice kink by playing with his accent.
“Yes ma’am.” Jack pretends to tilt an imaginary hat as he closes the drawer and turns around to stride cockily towards the bed.
There’s something to be said for the domesticity of such a moment. The easy way he slides into bed beside you and bundles you up in his arms, and the comfort of clean bodies cuddled up in the light of your bedside lamps like you had been doing this your whole lives. Now that you’re letting yourselves, it’s so easy to be together. “So…” you hum, snuggling up to him. “I saw my dad pull you outside tonight.”
“Yes.” Jack won’t deny that. Especially because you saw it. “He did.” He rubs his hand up and down your back.
“Anything I should know about?” It’s hard to imagine they needed to have a private conversation about whiskey or the grill, but who knows.
“Your father wanted to know my intentions.” Jack admits easily. “To tell me that I need to listen to you, help you dream.”
“He worries too much.” An exasperated sigh passes your lips and you place a kiss on Jack’s chest. “I already have my dreams.”
“I know.” Jack says teasingly. “Your tea room.” He knows you mean more than that, but he’s grinning as he needles you.
“And my soulmate.” There might be other things that you bluster about, but the love of the person you’re meant to be with and your dream job are the two things you’ve always been honest about wanting.
“And your soulmate.” Jack quietly repeats. He knows how important it is to you. To him honestly, now that he’s opened that possibility up again. Your happiness is the most important thing to him.
“So there’s nothing else to worry about.” The questions of marriage or kids or anything else are all secondary to just having him in your life.
He hums and thinks about things for a moment. "Would you...want to go home with me?" He asks softly. "To Montana? See the ranch. You don't have to."
“I absolutely will if you want me to.” At dinner, your parents had invited him to come up to New Hampshire with you any time, and this seemed like a natural extension of that invitation to you. But you do lean back a little to look him in the eye. “I would love to see where you’re from, honey. But if it’s going to hurt too much…reminding you of Abigail and the baby and all that…then we don’t have to.”
"It's been a long time since I've been home." Since he had left, if he were honest, but he wasn't going to bring that up. "Might be good to go see it...introduce you to 'em." He ventures, wondering if you will think it macabre or ghoulish to visit his former soulmate's grave.
“Do you still have family out there?” It’s not hard to tell when Jack has his mind set to something, and this seems like it’s quickly becoming an important idea to him. “Or is there maybe an event that you used to like going to? That we could go back for?”
"No family left." His father had died the year before Abigail. Heart attack, or he would wonder if Rollins had any hand in it now. "Just me."
“No cousins or anything?” That surprises you, but you smooth your furrowed brow so he doesn’t get the impression that you’re judging him for something he has no control over. “Who’s running the ranch?”
"I hired a board of directors to handle things for me." Jack huffs. "Or....Champ did." Champ had taken care of that task to where Jack only had to handle the yearly reports and even then it was more of a cursory glance. He had honestly anticipated the fuckin' thing going to the Statesman conglomerate when he died.
“We should go.” There’s a wistfulness and a worry in his expression that is begging to be soothed, and you run your hand gently up and down his side. “We can see the ranch, you can show me where you grew up, and we can visit Abigail and your son. Would that…would that be a good trip for you?” Of course you’re curious to see where he came from, but the last thing you want to do is hurt him with memories.
Jack bites his lip, swallowing harshly when you are the one that brings up his wife. "I– I would l-like that." He manages, his voice cracking slightly in surprise and so much gratitude. His hold on you tightens. "I would like that a lot." It feels like Jack has a sense of closure now that Abigail's death has been explained. It wasn't some random act of violence that he couldn't rationalize. It was targeted. She was targeted. It had helped to know that more than he ever thought it would.
“We’ll bring flowers.” That’s what you do whenever you visit your own family’s graves, and in some ways you suppose Jack’s lost loved ones are a part of your family now. In an extended and loving memory sort of way. “Whenever you want to go, honey.”
“We need to get through your opening and at least the first few months, I think.” Jack looks to you. “Right?”
“Maybe we could go at the end of the summer or beginning of fall?” The land would still be in bloom and going during the heat of summer might be too close to their death date for him. Considering he doesn’t celebrate his birthday you doubt he wants that big of a reminder. “I would think that…earlier in August might be…a lot harder.”
"That would work." Jack nods, considering it. "There's nothing like fall on the ranch." He admits wistfully. "Especially when the trees start changing colors up in the mountains."
“Fall, then.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you offer Jack a soft smile. “I’m honored that you want to share that part of yourself with me.”
"Just...." Jack picks up your hand and kisses it softly. "Be patient with me when we go?" He asks, knowing that he might have to go quite a few therapy sessions before taking you, so he doesn't lash out or do something stupid.
“Honey, of course.” It seems like you shouldn’t be able to get any closer, but you nudge that much nearer to him and brush some damp hair from his forehead. “And if you decide to put the trip off until spring or even next fall, that’s just fine. The ranch isn’t going anywhere and neither am I.”
"Hmmm, thank you." He squeezes your back gently and his hand starts to drift down towards your ass as a natural progression. Having you in his bed has made it hard to keep his hands to himself on the best days and he was still in a playful mood.
“Serious conversation and then an ass grab, huh?” Sure you might be teasing him a little less, but you’re still you. It’s still fun. “Still in a good mood, Mr. Daniels?”
"Sugar, I'm finding that I've been in a good mood since that first nap with you." He tells you seriously. "Especially when I get to see that gorgeous smile on your face."
“Hmm…” He’s being so damn sweet and sincere tonight, and you’re just soaking it all in like sunbeams. “I wonder why that could be?”
"I don't know." He teases back. "Might be because your parents and siblings haven't strung me up for makin' you cry. Or because I'm currently in bed with a very sexy woman."
“If anybody would’ve gotten out the noose it would have been my sister, and it would have been immediate.” And since you would have done the same to defend her if she needed it, you can’t blame her in the least. But your little sister had listened when you told her that Jack was actively fixing things and making an effort. “I’m thinking it probably has a tiny bit more to do with having a half-undressed woman in your bed.”
"Yes." Jack's voice dips slightly, taking on a smokier sound. "That. That is a big reason why I've been in such a good mood." Despite not having sex, he's more relaxed with you here and he doesn't want you to leave when your family goes home tomorrow.
“I’ve been thinking…” Some might not consider three days a whole lot of time to think, but getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with him has been good for you. When Jack doesn’t have his guard up, he is as sweet and as appealing as apple pie with all the charm of the most attentive Southern gentleman. “And I think…” Finding his eyes in you, you fluster a little and bury your face in his shoulder. “It’d be a shame to go back to my own place.”
"I think you're right." Jack agrees softly, relieved that you seem to be on the same page as he is. "Wasted opportunities to hold you. When you go back to work, I know you aren't going to be able to be under my wing the entire day."
“I’ll text you when I get downtime,” you promise him, stretching to kiss the nearest bit of his skin you can manage - which right now is the slope of his chest just below his neck. “So you don’t worry.”
“Just wear your bracelet for me, sugar.” He requests, remembering how his heart had dropped when he had seen it on your counter.
“Always.” You pick up your hand that had been tucked in beside him to show the delicate chain with its innocent looking charm to show him that you’re wearing it even now. “I only take it off to shower now.”
“Okay.” He knows it’s a little bit of paranoia, since you will be on Statesman property, but Ginger is still going through all the personnel files to make sure another intruder hasn’t slipped through the cracks.
“It’s okay.” It’s an understatement to say that you understand now. “From now, I’m coming home to you at night.”
"Yeah?" Jack smirks slightly and bites his lips at the prospect of having you in his bed every single night. "I like the sound of that, sugar. Hand to God, I do."
“I do, too.” There’s barely any more space to move in, but you reach up and place a kiss on his lips and sigh softly. The kiss starts off soft, but need and hunger makes Jack reach up and grip the back of your neck as he deeps it with the slide of his tongue against your lips. Groaning when you eagerly open for him.
Every night has been like this. Sliding into bed together and having a little pillow talk before you indulge a little in each other without ever pushing the boundary that you’ve set for yourselves. It’s been a blissful few days, if you’re honest, and even though you know the second he signals being ready you’ll be throwing your own clothes off the side of the bed in a big goddamn rush.
That need, the underlying hunger that seems to invade every single touch and kiss is working overtime tonight. Making Jack grip your hips and urge you on top of him, wanting to feel your warmth and weight. The heat of your damp panties pressing against the rapidly expanding tent in his boxers.
The heat grows faster tonight than it usually does, something in the breath you share feeling more addictive or maybe just hungrier. You find yourself grinding your hips down on him without thinking and moaning when his hands slip under your shirt. “Fuck sugar.” Jack groans, kissing down your throat as you roll your hips back and make him choke on his own breath. “You’re so fucking…sweet.”
“Sweet?” You might giggle if you weren’t busy moaning, but you tilt your head completely out of the way to let him lick and nip and suck every bit of skin he wants. “Tonight feels—” you gasp when he swipes his thumbs across your pebbled nipples in unison. “Fuck— definitely hotter.”
“Never eaten melted chocolate?” Jack groans, smirking slightly as you push your tits against his fingers a little more. Begging for him to repeat the move. “Sweet and hot.”
“I will go get the fudge sauce out of your kitchen so fucking fast.” It would be a nice follow up to yesterday when you had caramel sauce all over your hands making yourself a fancy latte before your family woke up and Jack had very carefully licked it off every digit.
Jack chuckles quietly and shakes his head. “No food play with your parents here.” He chides playfully.
Your pout is playful and your circle your hips in his lap again before reaching to pull your t-shirt over your head. There’s been enough modesty this week for two people planning on living together - you’re itching to take a bigger step forward. Jack has seen you naked. You’ve changed in front of him with no modesty, a move that made him grin. Now he groans, eyes feasting on your tits and he drags you down to his chest to feel them pressed against his chest.
He’s throbbing hard beneath you and the barriers of his boxers and your panties are performative at best. At this point you know damn well that he can feel how soaked your panties are, he can feel the difference in the neediness of every kiss.
Diving back into your mouth is like the anchor he needs to keep himself from keeling over. Groaning your name quietly, he manages to break away to look into your eyes. “What do you want, sugar?” He demands roughly.
“I—” You know the answer. What you’re aching for. But if he isn’t ready you won’t push him. “I want you,” you admit, looking everywhere but his eyes to avoid seeing disappointment. “But not if you’re not ready.”
Jack inhales roughly, expecting that answer but still being shocked when he hears it. “With your family here?” He asks, sliding his hands down your sides to grip your hips. “Tonight, sugar?”
“I can keep my voice down.” Another roll of your hips is a figure eight this time, and your eyes nearly roll back in your head when you feel him pulse underneath you. “Can you?”
It takes Jack a moment to be able to remember what you are talking about, let alone his own name when you grind against him like that. His fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you against him again. "I- y-yeah." He groans out brokenly. "Y-you sure?" He closes his eyes and tries to control himself before he looks back up at you seriously. This is a big step for the two of you and he wants you to not regret it.
“I’m sure, baby.” The seriousness of the moment isn’t lost on you, and you stop moving to leave a soft, sincere kiss on his lips. “I love you, Jack.”
He knows you are ready, the two of you have been ready physically since the day you met. It's the mental and emotional barriers that he had created that caused this delay. Now, Jack rolls you onto your back and smirks down at you, his eyes dark and flashing with need. "I love you too, sugar. Now I'm gonna show you how you ride a real cowboy."
If you were feeling pedantic, you might quibble about position and how you had just been in the perfect place to ride him - but honestly you’re too foggy from desire and the burning in your blood to do anything more than surge up to kiss him. The measly barriers of underwear were symbols of restraint more than anything, and you are extremely ready to pull his away so you can experience every inch of him.
Jack groans, enjoying the pure desire that is fueled by your kiss, his hands sliding down to the band of your panties and he smirks into your mouth before he shreds them easily.
Oh that should not make you moan so wantonly, but it’s a good thing you were kissing him when he did it otherwise your promise to keep the volume down would have been shot to hell immediately. “Fuck, baby.”
He chuckles quietly and moves the material away so he can slide his fingers against your wet slit. "You like that, sugar?"
“Show off,” you accuse him playfully, knowing that you’ve told him in the past that shows of physical strength are a turn on for you. “I’m already always soaking wet around you.”
He hums, sliding his fingers down to press into you. Something that he has done before but now he knows that you are going to feel more than just his fingers inside you. Wanting to make sure that you cum before he slides inside you.
“Fu—fuck.” One hand shoots out to clutch his shoulder and the other twines into the soft bed sheets as your hips roll down to meet his hand as deeply as you possibly can. Yes, you’ve enjoyed exploring with him, but you’ve wanted him since the day you met and you’re aching for him now that the chance is here.
Jack's hands are clever, quick. They have to be with the type of rope and pistol work that he does. Now, his trigger finger curls up inside you. seeking the spongy spot that makes your back arch and your gasps turn desperate. Ready to drink down the sounds like a man dying of thirst while he kisses you and pushes you towards the edge.
You squirm but open up for him like a spring flower, legs spread open as wide as you can manage to give him ample room to explore. All you’ve wanted for months is to drown in him and now you’re clinging to him like a life preserver as he rockets you out over an ocean of pleasure.
“That’s it, sugar.” Jack coos in your ear, butterflying kisses along your jaw while the wet heat of your cunt surrounds his fingers. “Give it to me. Let me feel your sweetness.”
He’s well practiced at this - with plenty of partners before you, yes, but also just from the last few days together. He knows exactly the right way to quirk his wrist and exactly the right way to curl his fingers, making you gasp and chase the sensation of his fingers filling you every time he pulls them out only to thrust them back into you with more dexterity than before. He plays you like an instrument until you bow and threaten to break, with one hand clamped over your mouth so you don’t cry his name for the whole house to hear as you fall apart at the seams and flood his hand with your sticky release.
It is only because of your family down the hall that he doesn't let you cry out. When they leave, he will. Letting your sweet sounds fill the bedroom, hell, the house. Wanting to hear it. Now he just groans, his lips pressed against your hand, as if trying to kiss you through the barrier. "Good girl." He murmurs. "Good girl, sugar."
The way he coos at you is borderline criminal but combines somewhere in the back of your head with riding him and you swear you’d let this unhinged cowboy put a damn bit and bridle on you if it turned out to be some wild kink of his. The thought flies out of your head as soon as it enters, blissfully blanking out with white hot pleasure. Only when you’re sure you won’t shout do you move your hand away, pouring a moan into his mouth instead.
Only when your body can't give him any more does he still his fingers. Watching as you relax into the bed and the sugary smile of pleasure graces your face. "Was it good for you?" He asks, smug in your eventual response when you can catch your breath.
“You’re so fucking cocky,” you drawl in reply, giggling under your breath when you surge up to kiss him. “I’d be shoving you on your back to stroke your cock except I need you to fuck me.”
"Confident, sugar." Jack chuckles, kissing your lips again before he shuffles off of you so he can push his boxers down. "Confident."
“Because you know I’ve been ready to jump you since the day we met.” It’s not even judgmental or self-deprecating, just a fact as you smirk up at him. He’s so fucking handsome and the butterflies in your stomach erupt all over again. This is actually happening.
Jack peels down his boxers and stands straight, showing off the hard length that is heavily bobbing as he lets you peruse his body. "You should know I've been havin' to hide this since the day we met." He growls.
“Don’t know how you hide it anywhere.” With as tight as he wears his jeans, it should be impossible to keep the thickest cock you’ve ever seen in your life under wraps, but somehow he manages it.
He smirks and waggles his brows at you playfully. "It's all in the way you keep your jacket buttoned."
“Show off.” Though you roll your eyes dramatically, you lean forward to snag his arm and urge him to come back to you. “Get back in bed and show off here instead.”
It's the easiest order that he will probably ever receive as he kneels on the bed. "With pleasure, sugar."
As easily as you ever fit together in any other part of life, the way your bodies seem to move and mold together is instinctive. There’s no guiding or nudging, just fluid motion as he finds the cradle of your thighs and slides one arm underneath your back to keep you as close to him as possible as he devours you in a burning kiss. Jack has never been shy about sex. Not even that first time with Abigail where he was worried that he would last all of ten seconds, only to be surprised and pleased he had lasted thirty. His cock pulses against your mound and he hums into your mouth, enjoying the way you fit against him, soft in all the right places and welcoming him to slide into you.
This tension that’s been building for months has somehow intensified during the last week. No touch has been enough, although you’ve pretended it was, and every moment of intimacy has just made you burn for more. Now, with his weight bearing down on you and the heat of him threatening to consume you, you’re squirming for any kind of friction. The easy roll of his hips comes natural, grinding against your and feeling the way your gasp presses into his throat when the head of his cock catches on your swollen, soaked lips. "Easy girl," he coos gently, keeping his hips angled so that when he shifts down, it presses against your entrance. "Nice and easy."
The smirk drawn tight across your face curls at the edges when you look up at him. “If you have a horse fetish, Jack Daniels, now would be the time to tell me.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, sugar.” He reaches down to grip your hip. “No horse fetish, but I do want you to hang on.”
Even the smallest moment of laughter seems to break the spell of apprehension that had been blanketing the two of you, and when you giggle along with him it’s like music. “Good,” you tease, hitching your leg high up on his hip. “Because I’m feeling more like save a horse, ride a cowboy tonight.”
Once you say that, Jack leans in and presses his lips to yours and slowly starts to push forward. Breaking you open with a smooth roll of his hips and a groan when he slips inside you.
Your mouth drops open as his hips roll forward, that deep moan that originates somewhere in your toes barely stifled when you clamp your mouth shut and bite your lip to keep it contained. Instead Jack gets an enthusiastic whimper while he fills your needy pussy slowly but surely. Every shuddering breath is encouragement, and you are definitely not here to discourage him.
Jack's own moan is quietly, barely breathed out but it's there. Mouth dropping open and his eyes fluttering closed at the tight, hot clutch of your cunt surrounds him. Stealing his ability to make a pithy comment, every thought of how fucking good you feel, how perfect you are, is all that he can manage until his hips nudge yours and he is buried to the hilt in your body.
All the space in your mind seems to be gone along with that space that he filled up in your body, leaving you dumbstruck in a way you’ve never felt before as your body adjusts to the weight and girth of him inside you. It isn’t like the two of you to be speechless, but the moment is consumed in drowning kisses rather than witty barbs and you can’t even say that you care. He doesn't know exactly when your fingers became entwined, curled together as your leg shifts higher on his hip and your lips tilt away from his. Breaking to give you both the space to pant softly. "Shit, sugar." He groans quietly.
“Jack—” You gasp his name softly, rolling your hips against his to seek out even the smallest movements. “You—you’re so fuckin perfect. Fuck.”
“You know how good you feel?” He groans quietly, twitching inside you when your walls contract around him.
The huff that earns him is only because your mind is too wound up in pleasure to be clever, and you draw your nails up his back to urge him on. “Might go crazy if you don’t move, baby.”
“So impatient.” He chides, leaning in and biting your chin before he draws his hips back.
“Maybe.” You might have snarked back at him if he hadn’t snapped his hips forward at that exact moment, pushing the air out of your lungs and making you have to bite back a sharp cry of his name to a bare whimper. He’s a menace and he knows what the hell he’s doing.
His grin borders on devilish and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. “You were sayin’, sugar?” He grunts as he thrusts into you again. Making sure that he forces more air out of your lungs.
“Fuck.” He said he wanted you to hold on - and he truly seems to have meant it. You cling to him as he sets a deep, steady pace that has both of you groaning into each other’s skin. The rest of the world has dissolved away so quickly that you can’t even focus on the room beyond him, eyes half-shut and fluttering every time his cock pulses inside your tight channel.
“I am, sugar.” Jack pants. “But you want it harder, I’m guessin’.” He’s teasing, but he wants to make sure you know exactly what he’s capable of in bed so he sets his knees and his pace speeds up.
It’s a miracle you don’t cry out. One hand leaves its safe place on his shoulder to dive into his hair to let your fingers scrape his scalp and pull on his hair just enough to add that hint of pain to the pleasure. “Shit.” Jack’s pace fumbles for half a thrust before he is slamming into you. Grateful for the solid poster bed to keep the headboard from banging through the wall and alerting everyone in the house to what you are doing.
“We can both play rough, cowboy.” You promise him, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath his ear and moaning vocally in his ear when he bottoms out inside you again.
If it weren’t for your experience being so fresh, Jack would have you tied to the bed. Instead he grabs your hip, hitching it up higher and groaning as he shuffles to his knees. The shift has you bouncing, head nearly hitting the headboard of the bed, and you reach up to brace yourself. The effect is that you’re stretched out in the bed below him, tits bouncing with every thrust and mouth alternately hanging open on a silent cry or pressed tightly shut to stifle the need to call his name into the night.
Huffing and puffing as he rides you hard, Jack grins down at you. Moving so he can lick his thumb and press it to your clit.
"Jesus–fuck!" You yelp when he presses his thumb to your swollen nub, eyes shooting open from where they had fallen blissfully shut to let the moment wash over you. There's a line of sweat rolling down Jack's neck that you don't hesitate to lick away, discovering tonight to be delightfully needy when you had unfoundedly assumed that things would tend toward lovemaking.
“Shhhhhh sugar.” Jack teases as he makes tight, sure circles over your clit. “Don’t want your daddy busting’ in here, do ya?” He smirks and snaps his hips a little harder.
"Fuck why is that sexier?" The pout on your lips at enjoying the idea of enjoying the forbidden or taboo is temporary, taken over by the shaking shivering pleasure from Jack knowing exactly how you like your clit rubbed.
Chucking, Jack decides to change the pace, keeping his fingers moving over your clit but his cock draaaaaags through your walls slowly. “Don’t know, you tell me.”
Biting your lip yet again to keep from moaning too loudly, the abrupt change in rhythm means you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he rocks backward. The slow feeling of emptiness is torture that almost makes you sob with pleasure. “Might hav—have to fuck you in a bunch of different —fuck — places to see who catches us.”
“Hmmm.” Jack ducks his head down and nips at your ear, breathing heavily. “Maybe I’ll fuck you in your kitchen. Let your staff walk in on us.”
“Shit.” That thought rockets through you like wildfire and has you grasping at his skin for any kind of mark or impression you could possibly leave on his perpetually tan skin. “Or your office.”
“My office.” Jack groans, pushing deep and grinding into you. “Spread out on my desk, my tongue buried in your cunt when someone walks in?”
Every image seems better than the last, building you up steadily along with his thrusts and the tight circles he's drawing on your clit so that you're on the edge of bursting. "Fuck yes," you're panting and swallowing your own whines beneath him. "So fucking good, baby, h–holy shit." With as tight as your body is clamping down on him in every way, your nails in his arms just might draw blood as you fall apart on a pitiful moan. It's too fast and too sharp to warn him, but the pleasure comes in wave after wave.
Watching your orgasm rip through you might be the sexiest thing that he has ever seen. Eyes clouding over and back arching up when your broken moan fills his ears. The hot grip of your walls making his already throbbing cock ache and he grits his teeth to keep from cumming as he rocks his hips to work you through the peak.
It's almost ruthless, the way he doesn't let up and just pushes you through to the other side without hesitation, but at the same time you love the seemingly endless aftershocks of such a powerful orgasm. "Come on, baby." You gasp out, holding onto his gaze with hazy eyes. "Cum for me."
“Gunna.” Jack hisses through his teeth, jaw stretched out and the muscles in his neck straining as he pushes towards his own pleasure. The way you tremble around him has him groaning your name, hips stuttering as his pace becomes sloppy and thrusts uneven.
His whole body tenses just a second before you feel it - his hips slamming forward to grind into you as deeply as he can before hot jets of his seed fill you with every pulse of his cock. It has you whimpering even as you slip your arms around him to offer him that place of comfort to come down to.
When he’s emptied himself into you, an experience that nears nirvana, he slides down into your embrace. Tucking his head against your neck and groaning your name quietly. “That..” he pants quietly. “Was worth the wait.”
Your breathing evens a little and you press a kiss to the top of his head, wrapping your arms around him tightly to just savor the moment for everything it's worth. "You were worth the wait."
His hold on you flexes, tightens as if he is afraid you would slip out of his grasp. As if you aren’t pinned beneath the bulk of his weight and still impaled on his softening cock. “Soulmates.” He murmurs softly.
“Soulmates.” You hum, quietly agreeing to what you know was not always the easiest thing for him to grasp or accept. Your hands journey up and down his back, soothing his overheated skin. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He sighs, kissing along your neck and across your shoulder gently. Not ready to move unless you need him to. It’s been a long time since Jack felt like he was home and that’s exactly what you feel like to him right now.
“Can we sleep like this?” Having him wrapped in your arms and pressing you down into the mattress might be the most comfortable you’ve ever been and you would hate to give it up too soon.
His chuckle is quiet and he settles so that he’s not just dead weight on you. “Comfortable, sugar?” He murmurs softly. “I don’t know if I can move right now.” He’s joking and he knows you know that from your huff.
There’s something to be said for feeling both safe and cherished, and your arms tighten around him briefly. “I think this is the most comfortable I’ve ever been.”
“Then go to sleep, sugar.” He nudges his hips forward slightly to make sure he doesn’t slip out of you. “I’ve gotcha.”
“Sweet dreams, love.” A soft kiss lingers between you before you close your eyes, happy to let blissful sleep take over.
******
“Sugar, I think four desserts is enough, don’t you?” It’s amusing to watch you rush around your kitchens and fret, but he knows that you only want to make your contribution to the going away party perfect. “You’ve made the kid’s favorites.”
“Everything has to be perfect.” Without knowing that you’re echoing his thought, you do register the affectionate grin on his face and pause in your movements to shrug sheepishly. “Bobby’s my friend, and so is his mother. This is a big day and I want them to be happy with it.”
“I know.” Jack had come by to peel you out of the kitchen, knowing if he left you for too long, you’d think of another dessert to whip up quickly. “Do we need to pack coolers or can everything go in the back of the Bronco?”
"Everything can go in the Bronco." He had let you out of his sight this morning long enough to bring your family back to the airstrip and get some clean clothes from your cabin, and you had gone into a sort of baking tizzy immediately after. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, red berry scones, pecan pie squares, and a huge batch of coconut cupcakes are all ready to go.
“Okay,” he grunts as he picks up the two large bakery boxes with the cookies and scones. “I’ve got the backseat laid down, so we should have plenty of room.”
"Thank you, baby." You follow him out with the rest of the pastries in your arms, setting them in the back of the Bronco before hopping into the front seat to snuggle up to Jack. "And...thank you for this week. Getting to spend the time with my family was...pretty perfect."
“Recovering from something like that is always better when you have people who love you around.” Jack turns and kisses your forehead. “When we are officially livin’ together, they are welcome anytime, sugar.”
"Only two more weeks until the opening." And that, in and of itself, is as terrifying as it is exciting. "Maybe tomorrow I'll come back here and pack up some of my stuff? It's not like I have a lot to do. The furniture all came with the cabin and I haven't gotten that many new things since moving down here."
“Whenever you want to do that, sugar.” Jack isn’t trying to rush you into any moves until you are ready for that. “You let me know and I’ll be your work mule for any heavy liftin’.”
"First thing's first." You lean over and snag another kiss, giddy to be beside him again after only a couple of hours apart. "Bobby's party."
“Bobby’s party.” Jack agrees, smirking over at you softly and reaching for your hand. The word about you being Jack’s soulmate has spread like wildfire amongst all the Statesman employees and this is the first official outing as a couple. “Word has it, Champ’s opened more than a few bottles of Reserve and Diana’s got all the ingredients for a full cocktail bar set up. Including some bubbly.”
"I expect nothing less of her." If it were your son being sent overseas like this without you knowing when you were going to see him again, you would definitely be sending him off in a big way as well. "Good thing we live right next door so we can just crash when we get tired."
His lips curl into a grin when he hears ‘we’. Proudly straightening up slightly as he marvels over how much his thinking has changed over the past two weeks. “I can see you gigglin’ drunkenly in the bathtub.” He teases.
"It would not be the first time at all." The grin you flash at him when he turns the engine over is unabashed. "My brother's thirtieth birthday was a hell of a party."
“Oh lord.” Jack rolls his eyes playfully and snorts. “I have a feelin’ I’m gunna be carryin’ you home over my shoulder.”
"Nooooo." Although the mental image does make you giggle. "I wouldn't embarrass you like that."
“Who says it’s because you’ve embarrassed me?” He grins lecherously and waggles his eyebrows. It’s not a long drive from your kitchen to the house, so he doesn’t have long to flirt before you will switch back into chef mode.
"You gonna throw me over your shoulder and carry me into the house to have your wicked way with me?" The two of you had woken up this morning still tangled in each other and shared a shower - which made it take far longer than if you had gotten ready separately. It was a beautiful way to spend the earliest hours of the day.
“Might.” Jack admits, reaching over and sliding his hand up your pretty sundress. “Too pretty to keep my hands off of.”
"Mmm, I think we might have unleashed the beast," you joke, not bothering for one second to stop his hand from wandering. The entire reason for wearing a little sundress today instead of a simple pair of shorts and a shirt is so that he would want to touch you.
Chuckling, he makes sure his fingers brush your panties. “Don’t think you’re complainin’.”
"Not even a little." There isn't enough time to make the car ride playful, but you relish the feeling of his fingers against your core for even just a second.
“That’s what I thought.” A small, playful pinch to your thigh is quickly smoothed over with his fingers and he grins at you. “Don’t have to be quiet tonight.”
"Thank god." You huff dramatically, like it was the biggest effort in the world to keep quiet last night. Which, in some ways, it was. At least it wasn't easy. It doesn't matter though, all that matters is that you're taking steps forward at a pace that is good for both of you. Jack parks in his driveway so he doesn't take up any room at Champ and Diana's house, and the two of you easily carry all the treats you made across the yard to the tables that Diana has left bare for your contributions. She had predicted you would overdo it after not being allowed to cook for the better part of a week, and she was right.
“Whole damn table for your desserts.” Jack sounds like he is grumbling but the grin on his face shows that he completely belies that. He’s already planning on stealing one of the cupcakes.
"Might be just enough room." There are all sorts of serving platters out for you to choose from, and you start arranging them carefully to put things at different heights and with different shapes beside each other to make the table interesting and easy to grab from. "But only because I stopped short of making the key lime tarts..."
“Now you’re just bein’ mean.” Jack groans quietly. “I ever tell you Key Lime is one of my favorites?”
"You did not." The pout on his lips is adorable, and you grin before kissing it away. "I'll make one for us this week. How about that?"
“Yessssss.” Jack pumps his fist, grinning as he imagines the tangy tartness of the dessert. It was the perfect balance of nearly too sweet and sour.
"What are we celebratin' out here?" Diana had seen you walking up to the house but was in the middle of taking something out of the oven. Now that she can come and say hello, she's ready to throw a second party altogether for how damn happy you and Jack seem.
“Key lime pie.” Jack doesn’t explain any further than that. Aware that Diana is familiar with his love of anything Key Lime. The only thing that truly beats it is chocolate.
"You're gonna love having a chef for a soulmate," she laughs lightly, embracing both of you in turn. "How are you feelin', sweetheart? Better?"
"I'm good, Di." You hug her back fiercely. "A couple of days of rest with my family is what I needed."
“We’ve got another session with the doc and then she’s got some solo meetings.” Jack hadn’t backed down on his insistence you see the staff therapist. Wanting you to cope with things better than he ever has.
"Good." That meets Diana's approval, and she nods as she looks the two of you over. "Positively glowing," she pronounces, having a feeling that she knows why. "Happiness suits you both."
Jack knows that it is mainly his fault, all his fault really. He ducks his head slightly and wraps his arm around your back to pull you into his side. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”
"I always thought so." Diana gives you a playful wink before squeezing Jack's shoulder, glad to see him looking proud instead of apprehensive. "Come inside when you're done setting up here. Bar's set up in the kitchen and people should be arriving any minute."
"Do you need anything else, sugar?" Jack asks as he takes the last box from you. He has to admit that all your desserts look amazing and he hums. "Are you plannin' on having a display case in your tea room? Desserts to take home?"
"We're going to do a case for cakes." With the menu nailed down, you know that the only thing that still might expand is the take-away aspect of the bakery, but you're starting small. "The case was put in yesterday, actually. It was the last thing to go in."
"That case is going to be bare by the end of the first night." Jack predicts, knowing that plenty of people will want to take your goods home. Your kitchen staff will have to make sure to keep the cases full.
"You have such faith in me." You lean back in his arms and press a kiss to his cheek, satisfied with the way the table works and basking in the earnest compliment. "Let's go grab a drink, honey. Before the kitchen gets swamped."
Jack follows you willingly, carrying the discarded boxes from the goods as he trails after you. Admiring the way your hips sway in that dress and he smirks to himself.
"Di, I think you might have overdone it just a little bit," you laugh to yourself when you see the way the kitchen is laid out. The enormous tray of her son's favorite mac and cheese that she just took out of the oven is off to one side but a whole half of the counter is devoted to being a self-serve bar.
"Never." Diana huffs, grinning as he whips off the oven mitts and looks over the array of food. "Okay, maybe a little." She admits with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "But my Bobby is leavin' and we are going to celebrate." She swallows. "And then I'll cry tonight when he's on that plane."
"He's not leaving forever, Di." She knows that, of course, but you feel like it's your duty as her friend to remind her. "And you know he'll come home for every holiday he can. Bobby would never stay away that long."
"Shit." Diana rolls her eyes and tosses you a knowing look. "You know as well as I do that boy is itching to get out from under his daddy's watchful eye and gallivant."
"Sure." You nod, stepping up with Jack to pour yourself drinks when she motions to the counter. "But Christmas without his momma? Even a boy Bobby's age isn't eager for that."
"That's just because the darn fool still likes to see what's in his stocking." Diana jokes, laughing with you and relaxing slightly. She's nervous and excited for him, knowing that he will do good things. "How are you anticipating Tex's arrival?" She asks, glancing over at Jack.
"Honestly?" The two of you have your heads bowed as she makes you matching bright pink cocktails. "I hope it will be okay. I miss my friend, ya know? And I know Jack does, too. But...what do we know about this girl? His soulmate?" You're happy for him. You really are. But you also want to make sure that he's actually happy.
"She's a Kingsman agent. One of the few women that they have accepted, so she has to be a damn fine spy." Diana had been told what Champ knows and has no issue with passing it along. "Tall, feisty and mouthier than most Brits."
"Oh." You nearly cackle at the description, shooting Diana an amused grin. "So she'll fit right in here."
"I have a feelin' it's gonna be real interesting around here." Champ adds as he walks into the kitchen and makes a beeline for his wife to steal a kiss.
"We like interesting." You give Champ a hug when he tears himself away from Diana's side, glad to see him relaxed and smiling and not in his suit jacket for once. "Interesting keeps us on our toes."
"When's Tex comin' in again?" Jack asks, not sure how the boy will act when he gets back.
"Plane's landing in about an hour." Champ reports, snagging a beer from the fridge beside his wife. "Said he wanted to come straight over when I mentioned it to him, but I expect Sophia - that's his lady - will want to at least drop their things at the house first."
"Speakin' of houses." Jack glances over at you quickly before he looks back at his friend and boss. "Sugar's gonna be movin' in with me. Should have it empty pretty quick."
"Well look at that." Champ smirks, chuckling with a pleased note in it. "Didn't take you two long at all once you stopped trying to tear each other's throats out. Fantastic."
"Fuck off." Jack's huff is purely bluster and he rolls his eyes to accompany his sentiment before he grins at Champ.
"Charming." You smirk at your soulmate and hug him tight. "You survived five days with my entire family, babe. You deserve to have a live-in cook as a reward."
Chuckling, he can't deny that. He tugs you closer and kisses your forehead. "I will love every second of it too."
"Uncle Jack!" Bobby swings down the main staircase with a broad smile on his face and lights up at the sight of his father's closest friend. "Did you get a load of the smoker yet? Dad's outdone himself."
"Both of your parents have pulled out all stops on this shindig, kid." He lets go of you to stride forward and pull the kid into a bone crushing hug.
"I'm glad you're here." The younger man admits quietly. The idea of leaving without being able to say goodbye had made his stomach turn.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Jack murmurs back, always thinking of the kid like his own. A lot of times he had wondered if his little boy and Bobby would have been best friends.
"Sucks that we never got to run a mission together." There's a hint of regret in Bobby's voice but he smiles, glancing back over at you as you talk to his parents. "You'll be back in the field soon though, right? Never know what can happen."
"As soon as I can get my guns polished." Jack promises with a grin, slapping his back fondly. "I'll make my way over to merry 'ol England and remind you how to use your ropes."
The first flood of guests to arrive includes Ginger and Gabriella and their kids, and before you know it there is music pumping through the outdoor speakers and drinks flowing, with people playing lawn games and dancing and enjoying the sunny spring day for everything it's worth.
Jack stands with Champ over at the smoker, a place of pride as the two men share a drink. His eyes straying over to you as you laugh with Diana and he smiles softly at the scene. Unsure of why he had felt like you wouldn't fit in. That you wouldn't work here in this part of his life, or in his life at all. You've taken to Statesman and everyone he cares about like a duck to water.
“Having fun, love?” When your drink ran dry you headed across the lawn to refresh and stopped on the deck to give Jack a kiss.
"Of course." Jack smirks and lifts his glass up. "I've got some of the best Kentucky mash in existence, a smoker working overtime and the prettiest gal at the party comin' to kiss me."
“Suck up,” you tease, but there’s no bite in it. Instead it just earns him another kiss and a flustered smile from you. “Diana makes dangerous cocktails, I might have to mix something slightly less potent for myself otherwise you’re actually going to have to carry me home like you threatened.”
Champ chuckles and shakes his head. "My girl always did have a heavy hand when pouring drinks." His own eyes find his soulmate and he softens, smiling gently at the older woman across the way as she bullies Astrid into taking another scoop of the mac and cheese, knowing how much the Statesman tech loves it.
“Astrid and Gabi invited us over for dinner tomorrow,” you tell Jack, stealing one more squeeze of a hug before you remind yourself that you’re too old to be hanging all over your soulmate like a groupie. “Is it okay if I tell them yes?”
"If you are wanting to go, sugar, you tell 'em." Jack agrees, knowing that if you want to go to dinner with your friends, he will show up with a smile. "As long as you don't work too hard tomorrow since it will be your first full day back."
“My first day back is the perfect day to have someone else cook dinner, don’t you think?” It’s certainly not a bad idea by any means, and you shoot him a grin. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
"What if I don't want you to be good?" Jack poses playfully. "Go tell them that you will only bring one dessert." He orders, smirking at your immediate pout.
“Only bringing one dessert is being good!” His teasing earns him a stuck-out tongue and you hustle into the house to get another drink before he can retaliate. You’re still giggling to yourself happily just seconds later as you pour yourself a slightly less powerful cocktail, but the sound of the front door opening and boots in the foyer drags your mind to the present. “Come on back!” You call to the new arrival, having heard Diana greet guests the same way an hour ago. “Party’s outside but the bar’s in here.”
"Well hey." Tex rushes up to hug you before he stops short, unsure of how exactly to approach you now that the truth is out there and Sophia is right beside him. He gives you a sheepish smile when you turn around to face him. "Looks like you are right at home, knew you would be."
“You’re home!” The way you both flinch when you obviously want to be excited to see friends makes you shove your hands in your pockets for just a moment before you decide not to care. Friends can hug each other, dammit. If this Kingsman agent soulmate of his has a problem with it, she’s never going to be comfortable at Statesman. “It’s so good to see you,” you tell him honestly, reaching forward to offer him that hug.
As soon as you open your arms, Tex breaths out a sigh of relief and Sophia knocks into him from behind. "Hug her, you ass!" She hisses at her soulmate in reproach before she shoves him again. Rolling her eyes at the hesitancy he's displaying when she knows exactly who you are and what you have done with Tex.
The laugh you let out in surprise becomes a snort, and you hug the life out of the 6’1” Texan before turning to the statuesque woman beside him - stunningly gorgeous even in her jeans and sweater. “You must be Sophia.”
Sophia can't help but grin, immediately liking you. "That I am." She isn't like most British, she's a hugger and she comes in to greet you as if you were an old friend. Which, in a twisted kind of way, you are. "You're the heartbreaker." She teases as she squeezes you and pulls back and looks over at Tex when he huffs and shuffles beside her. "Ohhhh piss off." She huffs at him goodnaturedly. "Not everyday you get to have a friend who's seen your soulmate's cock." Her grin is wicked when she turns back to you and winks. "And she and I are going to be best mates, ay?"
“You really have no choice in the matter.” You inform Tex, grinning like a mad woman when Sophia keeps one arm around you and you can’t help but feel like this woman glows from the inside out. “I love her. I’m keeping her. You and Jack need to have a good gruff grumble at each other so we can all get back to normal around here.” Turning to Sophia, you flash her a grin and nod toward the counter. “Fix you a drink?”
"God yes." Sophia huffs, rolling her eyes. "We had to fly commercial, dealt with an absolute cunt of a ticket agent." She groans, "they didn't even have a proper cuppa on that trash heap they called a jet!" She tends to be told that she's abrasive and mouthy, but she doesn't care. Thrilled to be here with her soulmate and eager to make friends with those that know him best.
“Come by the kitchen any time. I had some of our teas imported so the real thing is just a short walk from your office.” The bottle of rum is already in your hand when you look back at her. “Did Tex tell you what I do when he told you…the other stuff?”
"He said you were the best damn baker on this side of the ocean." She tilts her head and leans in conspiratorially. "Which isn't hard when you compare it to British pastries." She giggles before she reaches out and touches your arm. "Don't worry, Tex might have told me about the incident between you, but that was before we even knew we were soulmates. And I don't care who was wrapped around his cock before me. All that matters is now."
“British pastries are amazing, don’t you dare test me on that. My tea room is opening in just a couple of weeks and you’ll have access to as much tea as you can manage.” Eyeballing the right amount of each liquor for the daiquiri you had started making her, you grin when Tex just shakes his head and steps around you to grab an ice cold beer from the fridge. Warm beer just never sat well with him in any of the pubs he tried out. “What happened between us is in the past, but I’ve really missed my friend.” You tell her honestly. “I’m really glad that you’re not the type to judge before you meet someone.”
"Though I want to punch that soulmate of yours." Sophia's grin turns into a frown and she looks you over curiously. "But it seems like you are doing surprisingly well, considering Tex said you were grieving when he left." There's a question in her comment, one that would be easily ignored if you didn't want to talk about it and the opening if you did.
“Jack and I are doing a lot better.” You hold a fixed glass out to her when you turn around. “Actually? We’re doing great. It was a bumpy ride but we’re on track now. Just like…it seems like you and Tex are doing well?”
"We are." Sophia can't stop the grin if she tries as she lifts the cocktail up to take a drink. "We both have always wanted to find our soulmates and it's just– it's exhilarating. You know?" She asks, making a face of delight when she tastes the drink you had mixed up. "Ohhhh this is good." She moans. "I'm going to love it here."
“I hope you like whiskey because around here it’s a religion.” Looping your arm through hers, you tap your glass against hers and grin. “Come outside and meet everyone.”
Jack looks up to find you and another woman with your arms intertwined and your heads pressed together, a cheery grin on both of your faces. Tilting his head and wondering who the woman is, his question is answered a second later when Tequila follows you and her out of the house, a very uncomfortable set to the boy's shoulders that immediately has Jack grinning out of spite. "Hot damn." He chuckles. "Trouble's blown back into town." He calls out over the yard.
"Tex!" Diana's delighted gasp from halfway across the yard is echoed almost immediately by a wave of other cheers and greetings, and you pull Sophia to the side with you just a few inches so you don't get run over by the ever-boisterous Bobby Rogers who comes careening up to the porch to say hello with an aggressive hug.
"Is everyone as enthusiastic around here?" Sophia bursts out laughing as the obviously grown man nearly tackles her soulmate in a hug that might have killed a lesser man.
"Pretty much," you laugh, nodding a little as Tex and Bobby share something that can only be classified as a bear hug. "I give it until the end of the party until you're getting hugs that big, too. Part of it is just...everybody loves Tex. And they're so excited to meet you."
"I heard he was something of a partier while he was here." Sophia finds it vastly amusing that the stereotypical cowboys around here act like they are all one big group of teddy bears. Most of them wrapped around their soulmates or coming over to greet Tex.
"Just a little." Throwing her a conspiratorial wink, you take it on yourself to introduce the newest arrival to Jack, since her soulmate is currently in the center of a group hug that would put any sorority to shame. "Honey," you reach out to touch Jack's shoulder and get his attention. "This is Sophia. Soph– this is Jack." The grin that unfurls on your face is unstoppable. "My soulmate."
"Well, fuck me." Sophia grins, shaking her head and reaching out to shake his hand. Unsure if this one was a hugger and she wants to needle him some. "Do they breed them all like fucking Gods here?"
You snort again, louder this time, and almost double over laughing at the comment. "Holy shit." It's going to take you a lot longer than just one or two seconds to regain your composure, especially with how amused Jack looks. "I fucking love this girl," you pronounce absolutely to anyone who could possibly be listening. "And yes. They do. At least, Statesman recruits all the godlike ones."
"I should have come over to America sooner." Sophia huffs, grinning towards her soulmate. "Tried a few of these cowboys on for size before I found Tex."
"Naw, you already got the second best the country has to offer." Your eyes slide over to Jack and you smile again, feeling that familiar fluttering in your chest that you always get when you look at him. "I'm afraid I already nabbed the best for myself."
Jack chuckles and reaches for you, relieved that the entire situation isn't awkward. Sophia looks like she is a woman who will keep Tex on his toes. "All yours, sugar." He promises. "All yours."
When Tex finally manages to extricate himself from the mountain of greetings, you ambles back over to Sophia with a sheepish grin on his face. "Didn't I tell ya we liked big hellos around here, baby?" He practically blushes, running his hand down her arm to thread their fingers together before looking up at you and his best friend. Or, at least, the man who had been his best friend. He's just hoping that he didn't fuck that up too badly. "Jack." He flusters before holding out his hand to say hello.
Jack stares at the boy's hand for a moment before he slaps it away. The sharp inhale of the entire group barely able to register before Jack busts out into a chuckle and grabs Tex, pulling him in for another rib bustin' hug. "Son of a bitch!" He growls. "The fuck took you so long? I've been miserable with just Champ for company."
The air goes out of all of you all at once, and Tex practically crumples into hugging his best fucking friend. "Jackass," he huffs, though the relief is clear in his voice. "You know that's why your daddy named you Jack, right? Knew from birth that you'd be a jackass."
"Better than Tex." Jack huffs, slapping the taller man's back harshly. It would sound like he's hitting. him, but it's just the affection being pounded back into him like men do. "Can't hit for shit, Tex." Jack's own relief at Tex's return and forgiveness for his actions are palpable. A weight off his shoulders.
"Gonna have to get back in the practice ring." Tex chuckles, shaking his head at Jack before he wraps his arm around Sophia and flashes the softest smile in the world at her. "It's good to be home." He has to admit that. Fully and wholeheartedly.
It's satisfying, seeing the boy wear a besotted smile that he's only seen one other time. This time he's got an even bigger sparkle in his eyes and it's reserved for Sophia. "Good to have you home." Jack promises, nodding at the other agent meaningfully. "You made it in time for the grand openin' too."
"I heard!" And he's not going to lie and claim that he didn't hurry back to be here in time. "Gotta admit I'm a little bummed to have missed out on all the menu tastings, but..." he clears his throat and looks down at Sophia who gives him an encouraging nod. "Champ says...y'all are gonna be doing weddings soon?"
"Oh my god..." You're wide-eyed when you realize what he's asking, and immediately look down at Sophia's hand to see a meteor-sized emerald on her finger. It's unique and bold, exactly like she is. "Are you serious? That's so exciting!"
"Goddamn." Jack whistles, not missing the split second flash of something on your face. It wasn't necessarily envy but it's more like a yearning. He thinks about the conversation he had with your father and knows that he will be sliding that ring on your finger just as soon as he can get you alone after the opening. He'll have to text your dad for a picture of the ring, get another band to compliment it. Something specifically from him for his soulmate. "Congratulations." He offers seriously.
"He wanted to wait until we got over here to have the thing." Sophia absolutely beams, looking between you and Jack. "Something utterly unEnglish. No little village church, no dour aunties over breakfast, no pall mall on the lawn." She snorts as though the idea of it is completely ridiculous.
"You'll both help, won't you?" Tex had talked about you both constantly once he was more comfortable doing so. They had opened up to each other so quickly that his hesitancy to talk about you and Jack had been the biggest clue that the two of you are important to him.
"Whatever you need from me." Jack agrees instantly, knowing that he will do anything to help the couple have the event they are dreaming of. Wanting them to be happy here, he wants Tex to be happy. Wants him to be happy with his soulmate. Just like he is now with you.
"Absolutely anything." And if you happen to have a few stray thoughts about your own wedding, it won't be your fault. But you would never bring it up to Jack.
"So you mean to tell me that the first weddin' you and Diana are gunna plan is Tex's?" Jack can't help but chuckle at the irony of it.
"Looks like it." You have a sip of your drink and note with a clear conscience that the only jealousy you feel is for being able to get married, not for the specific man. That would have been a whole extra therapy session right there.
"Looks like I owe my wife twenty bucks and a spa day," Champ chuckles from a few feet away, eyeing his two agents with amusement. "I'd sworn it woulda been Jack and his Sugar, here."
Tex’s eyes widen and he glances at you and then Jack. Just now realizing that things are a bit more friendly than when he left. “Seriously?” He asks, a slow grin breaking out on his face. “You two?”
"We're not engaged or anything," you quickly throw that conversation off the rails before it can get traction, not wanting to make Jack uncomfortable. Instead you choose to focus on the very real and very positive step toward a solid relationship that you actually are taking. "But, um...I'm moving...to Jack's place." For Sophia's benefit, you point at the side of the large house across two yards. "Right next door."
“Really?” Sophia hums and her calculating gaze turns towards Jack. “That’s a mighty big house to not be married in and fill with babies.” She points out practically.
"Ain't it, though?" Tex adjusts his arm around Sophia and grins. "Seems an awful shame not to have that place full of life."
"Oookay." Too nervous to even look at Jack, you give his hand a squeeze and remind yourself to smile. "I'm gonna go tell Gabi that we're on for dinner tomorrow before I forget," you murmur, excusing yourself as fast as gracefully possible.
Jack huffs, narrowing his eyes at the happy couple, although he isn’t upset. “Let me propose to the girl before you have her knocked up and pushin’ out babies.” His heart skips a beat at that thought but he closes his eyes and reminds himself that he diced Rollins into easy to handle pieces.
"Well she's not running because she's afraid of it." Sophia observes, sipping her drink. "She looks at you like you...what's the phrase?" One glance up at Tex and she remembers it. "Like you hung the stars in the sky."
“She’s gotta– gotta heal first.” Jack murmurs quietly. Taking another sip of his drink and watching you talk with Gabi and Astrid.
"Heal?" Tex's face flashes anger immediately but since Jack looks upset rather than angry it dissipates immediately. "What the hell happened? She looks fine."
“She– uh, she was kidnapped a week ago.” Jack tells Tequila brokenly. “Someone– it was… the same person who killed my Abigail and baby boy. Took her and tortured her.”
The way Tequila absorbs that information is the instant and yet simultaneously thorough turning of gears that marks him as an intelligence agent. Has he heard the words and absorbed their meaning? Absolutely. But is he still processing their full implication? That could take an extra moment. "Tell me you took care of it," he hisses, trying to even imagine half of what he would do to someone who hurt Sophia, let alone two of his soulmates. "Tell me you took care of it or we're leaving in the Silver Pony right now."
“They are in tiny pieces.” Jack confirms. “Never gunna hurt her again. I made sure of it.” His satisfaction is grim and he’s never told you that he’s got a video file of what he had done to Rollins, captured through his glasses, on his phone for when he needs a reminder the bastard is dead.
"Good." Both the agents in front of him - Tequila and Isolde - nod seriously. "So what she needs is to take her mind off things?" Sophia raises an eyebrow at both men. "Or should I be aiming her right at wedding thoughts to have her giddy to be proposed to?"
“I’m gunna propose after her grand openin’.” He admits quietly. “Her daddy’s bringing me her grandmother's ring. Gonna give her that and a ring to go with it from me.”
"So get her excited, then." That seems to delight Sophia, who has a mischievous streak several kilometers long. "Cheers."
“She’ll try to ignore being excited.” Jack predicts. “But remind her that it’s okay to dream. To want things.” A lot of this is because of the way he treated you, and he knows it will take time to completely fix things.
“Consider it done.” An intrigue, her mother would have called it, and Sophia has always loved a good intrigue.
“But, doesn’t mean I don’t want her to focus on your weddin’.” Jack promises. “Ain’t lookin’ to steal your thunder.”
“Jack, I, uh—” Readjusting his stance and wiping his palms on his jeans, Tex is the very picture of nerves. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man, if you weren’t still pissed at me.”
Jack looks seriously at Tex, knowing that the boy is still unsure of their standing despite the greeting. He swallows, emotional and soft at the idea. “I’d be honored.” He answers honestly, reaching out and pulling him in for another hug. “Fuckin’ honored.”
“Good.” It’s as heartfelt a moment as could be between the two men, and Sophia smiles as she rubs a hand gently on her soulmate’s back. “He was bloody terrified to ask on the way over in case you were still mad.”
“Why would I be mad?” Jack asks, making sure that the boy holds his gaze. “I was wrong.” He admits. “I owe you an apology. I shoulda made sure you knew the score. I’m sorry.”
“And I shouldn’t’ve overreacted.” Tex isn’t fool enough to think he didn’t go overboard by hauling off and laying Jack out flat. But clearing the air is what they both need. “I’m glad it’s behind us.”
“Water under the bridge.” Jack waves it away, aware that he shouldn’t have hit him, but Jack was being a jackass. “Let’s just leave that in the past.”
“Right.” Tex nods, glad to have it all aired out, and looks over at Sophia with a grin. “I’m gonna go show off my lady,” he announces unrepentantly. “Can we sit and eat with you guys later on? Catch up?”
“Go on.” Jack nods and waves them away. “Gotta make sure Champ doesn’t ruin the brisket.”
“I would not!” Champ looks scandalized at that the way only a Texas man can, and all three men laugh before Tex bundles Sophia up against him and goes out into the yard to say hello to old friends.
Jack chuckles and nudges Champ with his shoulder. “Guess things are lookin’ good. ‘Cept I know you’ll miss the kid.”
“I will.” Champ is not too proud a man to admit that he’ll miss his only child. “But every boy’s gotta leave home to grow, don’t they?”
“They do.” Jack admits, knowing his life would have been much different if he hadn’t left the ranch. Even under those circumstances. He honestly wonders what the world would be like if Jack Daniels had never become Agent Whiskey. It’s a sobering thought. “Good thing the kid knows that he’s welcome home whenever he needs a soft place to land.”
“Yeah.” Champ huffs a laugh as he inspects the progress the meat is making in the smoker. “Your house.” He doesn’t grouse about it, though, he only chuckles. “I know he’ll do well. It’s just hard to see him go.”
“I know, but the kid is a helluva agent.” Jack beams with pride, since he had helped train the kid. “You and Di did a fine job.”
“Give it a little time, Jack.” There’s confidence in Champ’s tone. It’s soft, but it’s there. “Yours will be just as headstrong and determined as you and their mama.”
“It scares the hell out of me.” Jack confesses, looking over at where you are talking with Rye, flown in from New York. You had given him a hug and there were some tears, but you had waved him off from coming over. “What if I lose her? Another baby?” He chokes out. “It’ll kill me.”
“The man who took your family - who tried to take this one - is dead.” Champ reminds him quietly, abandoning the smoker to focus entirely on his friend. “I know it’s hard to remember, but I’ll remind ya every day if you’re needin’ it. What else could hurt her - birth? Not with Ginger hoverin’ over her the whole time. Ain’t no disease we can’t tackle. No danger that Statesman can’t pull her back from. And shit,” Champ clicks his tongue. “With how well she did under pressure? Leavin’ you her bracelet as a clue an all? Keepin’ her secrets like she did? Even if there were other people out there who might wanna make a target out of a Statesman agent’s wife, I’d be more afraid for them then I am for her.”
“She’s a goddamn goddess, isn’t she?” Quiet pride fills him as he stares at you in a way that has his eyes watering slightly. Just drinking in the sight of his soulmate happy and healthy. “I never believed in second soulmates, never wanted one.” He knows that Champ is completely aware of that. “But I’m goddamn proud that this is who the universe chose for me.”
“She loves the hell out of you.” The older man claps Jack on the back in a friendly, playful gesture. “Can’t for the life of me figure out why, but you’re goddamn lucky.”
“Don’t I know it.” It’s a far cry from his viewpoint a month ago, but it’s amazing what can happen when you let the fear go.
______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide​ @elegantduckturtle  ​
DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived   @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @jay-ghostly @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @josephquinnswhore @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @djarinsstuff @justherebecausesafarisucks @cedricbitch @rebel-soldat @madisonred88
My Masterlist!
252 notes · View notes
Text
Part Two: "Déjà Brew" ~ S. Harrington
Tumblr media
Summary: (Then) Back in Hawkins, Reader is still reeling from the news she's just received. Turns out, sometimes the love of a mother might just be the very help you need when times are tough. — (Now) At Brew and Me, Reader struggles with the stress of motherhood and working. Turns out, a visit from her least favorite patron might be the thing she needs to cheer her up.
Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader
Word Count: 2,120
Content Warning: teen pregnancy, mentions of food, mentions of medical-related things, small mention of childhood cancer (not related to any of the main characters in this series), lmk if i missed anything!
Extra Notes: ngl, the writing in this chapter sucks but i promise it gets better!!
Originally Written: 10/08/2023 through 10/12/2023
honeysuckleharringtons' masterlist can be found here!
'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!
Tumblr media
[ Then, June of 1987 ]
You'd been holding onto the knowledge of your pregnancy for roughly two days, and since then, everything had felt upside down.
You'd looked for every reason possible to not see your boyfriend. You only spoke to your mom and siblings when spoken to. And worst of all, despite the human being growing inside of you, you felt absolutely empty.
You truly wanted to be happy about this. After all, a new human life was forming in your stomach. But the pain of anyone in your small town finding out you were a sinner, and the gossip about how you'd thrown your life away for some guy, it was just too much to bear.
So instead of facing your problems, you'd holed up in your room, lights out and window closed. You only left your room to grab snacks—which lay uneaten on your nightstand—and to use the bathroom. To your family, you were a passing ship in the night, a ghost barely seen. And just when you thought you'd run out of tears, more slipped out of your eyes and onto your pillow, which you were holding like your life depended on it.
It was sometime in the afternoon when Joyce knocked on the bedroom door. You'd cried for so long that you lost track of time, only realizing it was afternoon due to the setting sun peeking through the curtains. "Honey?" she called, barely getting the word out before gently opening the door. She must've registered quickly what was happening, closing the door behind herself in record speed. "Honey, what's the matter?" she cooed, a loving hand meeting your shoulder.
It's now or never, you thought to yourself. Pulling yourself up, you wiped the excess tears away with the pads of your thumbs. "Mom," you sniffled, the word sounding weaker than ever, "I've done a terrible thing."
"I'm sure it's not that bad, my sweet," she said, taking your hands in hers. "You know you can always talk to me, right?"
You nodded, though you were questioning if that statement really was true, considering the bomb you were about to drop on her. More tears involuntarily slipped down your cheeks, your eyes darting anywhere in the room besides her face.
Joyce ran a soft hand through your hair, clicking her tongue lightly. "Honey, I want you to know that you don't have to feel pressured to tell me what's wrong. But I am always here if you do want to tell me."
You forced the words to come out, and you were nearly hyperventilating before you'd even said them. "I don't really know how to tell you, because I'm not quite sure how you'll take it."
Her lips left a soft peck on your forehead, a silent reassurance that she was there for you. An unsteady breath exited your mouth, before you finally said the dreaded words you'd been thinking about for the last forty-eight hours. "The terrible thing is… I'm pregnant. And I have no clue what to do."
You braced yourself for impact, waiting for her to throw you out into the street or scream at you or slap you or anything really. You'd gone over every possible reaction in the book, hoping to find a rebuttal to each one.
Still, the screams never came and her hand never even touched your skin, other than the moment she pulled you into her side. "Oh, honey," she whispered, a tone of sympathy clear in the words.
Tears started to fall once again as she held you close, a gentle hand rubbing soft circles on the small of your back. You'd surely covered the both of you in tears and snot, but truth be told, that was the least of your concerns, given the situation.
"Y/N, you're gonna be okay," she reassured. "I promise, there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. And from here on out, there's nothing that is going to stop me from loving this child. I'm going to be here for you every step of the way. Okay?"
Through your crying, you managed to ask, "You aren't mad at me?" Genuine confusion took over you at her response to the news. You'd been convinced she'd be angry, never considering that she was the one becoming a grandmother.
She clicked her tongue again. "No, I'm still very frustrated with you for doing something this irresponsible. But that doesn't mean I don't love you or this baby."
It felt like all the blood had drained from your body as you lay practically limp in your mother's arms. The air was heavy as she waited for you to say something, anything, but the words never came. Words seemed a million miles away as the discovery of life inside you started to feel all too real.
Some time passed before she spoke again—whether it was two minutes or two hours, you didn't know. Her hand rubbed soft lines over your disposed arm, her touch as warm and welcomed as your favorite childhood blanket. "Honey, I've been where you were before. Maybe not exactly your situation, but I know what this feeling is like—the worry of what the dad is gonna think, the anxiety of caring for two people. It's terrifying. But I've got good news for you," she paused, kissing the top of your head. "You don't have to do it alone. Because I'm gonna be right here."
You weren't sure you gave her a response to that. Full-on sobs were now wracking your body, despite her kind words. Your tears flowed and your chest heaved, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to stop. Panic and fear coursed through you, and as much as you wanted to be happy about this baby, the only true feeling you had at the moment was resentment toward yourself.
Tumblr media
[ Now, November of 1991 ]
"Max, honey, do you know what time it is?" you asked, quite frantically. "I left my watch at home this morning."
A knock sounded on the counter behind you. "It's time for me to be your boyfriend," Steve said smugly, giving you a smirk as you turned to face him.
Max glared down at her watch, rolling her eyes at the cheesiness occurring in front of her. "Actually, it's almost 7:30," the redhead answered, pulling down the sleeve of her flannel shirt.
A grateful sigh slipped past your lips. "Ah, sweet freedom," you said before turning your attention back to Steve, who was sporting a curiously teasing look across his face. "What? I've got a hot date with a bubble bath and my feet and backbone couldn't be happier."
"Sounds sexy," he snickered.
Max huffed in fake annoyance as she passed the latte in her hand over to the brunette girl on the opposite side of the counter. "Have a nice evening," she smiled, then turned to you and Steve, to which she quipped, "If I had a dollar for every time one of you told the other something that was inappropriate to say in a coffee shop, I'd make enough money to pay off my student loans."
"Hey, it's not my fault your boyfriend is off playing basketball at Princeton and training for the NBA," you shrugged, joking of course.
Max gave you a fake pout. "That is below the barista belt, Y/N. That's just cruel."
You shot her a playful smile, giving her a sisterly pat on the arm. "Why don't you get started on the tables, hon'?"
And with that, Max was grabbing her cleaning supplies and heading to clean off the abandoned tables. You gave Steve your attention once more, curious as to if he was interested in holding up to his end of the bargain.
He surprised you with the response that came out of his mouth. "I will have a salted caramel latte with almond milk," he said proudly, sure that his answer was right. "Are you ready for that date yet?"
Your lips formed into a thin line, a look of regret coming to your face. "I hate to tell you, Doc, but nut allergies are a very common thing in my family."
"You work with almond milk all the time," he rebutted, a hand on his hip.
Your eyes narrowed in on him, not ready to back down from his challenge. "I don't like caramel."
He scoffed. "Who doesn't like caramel?"
You shrugged. "Me."
"Why don't you just admit that I was right and tell me where you wanna go next weekend?"
"Because you're wrong and I'm busy next weekend," you answered, both responses true.
He finally broke eye contact with you to look over at Max. "Hey, Max, is a salted caramel latte with almond mix Y/N's favorite item on the menu?"
"Everyone knows she hates almond milk," she answered. "I'm disappointed in you for not knowing."
His attention turned to you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. "How do I know she isn't being paid to say that?"
An exasperated sigh left your mouth. "We make five bucks an hour and you expect me to have extra money to throw at Max? No offense, Max."
"None taken," she laughed, still scrubbing away at one of the tables. "I don't have money to throw at you either."
Steve shook his head in some mixture of disbelief and playfulness. "Would you just get me my coffee? To-go, please."
Your brows furrowed as you got to work on the drink. "What's with the to-go order? You hardly ever get your coffee to-go."
"If you must know, I happen to have a hot date of my own," he said vaguely, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Sounds sexy," you jested. "Who's the girl?"
"A cancer patient in the PEDS ward."
Your expression went from curious to downright confused at his statement. "Do I wanna know how that constitutes as a hot date?"
"She's got a crush on me so I get asked to sit with her on nights that her mom works," he explained, slipping some cash into the tip jar. "It's a hot date because every time I go in her room, she asks me to crank the heater all the way up. I think that's just because she likes the way I look when I'm sweaty."
A gentle smile appeared on your face as you passed him his latte. You thought about your own little girl, who'd be here any minute, and how much you regretted nights like those where she was left to her own devices, left to stay with your mom or one of your brothers instead of the person she needed most.
You shook off the thoughts, taking the money from his opposite hand and placing it in the cash register. "Have a brew-tiful night and enjoy your date, Doc."
And with that, Steve gave you one last playful smirk and headed out the door, but not before a certain little girl ran past him and over to you. Joyce followed suit behind her as Steve held the door open, then began his journey out to his car and, presumably, the hospital.
"Mommy!" Mandy squealed, running around the counter to greet you.
You picked her up, happier than ever to see her, placing a kiss on her soft hair. "Hey, sweetpea," you smiled, love overflowing from you as she wrapped her tiny arms around your neck. "What did you get up to today?"
"Grandma took me to the park!" she answered excitedly, her hazel eyes lit up with delight.
You gasped, playing along with her enthusiasm. "No way! You'll have to tell Mommy all about it."
"Now, don't get mad," Joyce started to say as she walked over to you.
Your brows furrowed. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"
A regretful look came across the woman's face, explaining, "We passed an ice cream truck on the way here and-"
"Mom, you know I always give her one of the leftover cake pops at the end of the day. She can't eat too much sugar."
"I know," Joyce said, "but Jon's in town for Thanksgiving so he's offered to give you us both a night off."
It was selfish, but you'd never been so grateful for your brother to be home. You sighed, setting your daughter back on the ground. "Well then, let's put all that energy to use, shall we?"
And with that, Mandy was hot on your trail, following you around as you worked to close up the shop. You just smiled down at the girl, prouder than anyone had ever been to be a mom. Sure, it was biased, but you were quit certain you had the best girl in the whole world.
Tumblr media
-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280
Tumblr media
60 notes · View notes
skeletonpunching · 1 year
Text
Buddy Daddies interview with Toyonaga Toshiyuki, Uchiyama Koki, and Kino Hina
Interview with Toyonaga Toshiyuki, Uchiyama Koki, and Kino Hina (voice actors for Kurusu Kazuki, Suwa Rei, and Unasaka Miri)
[Translator's note: This interview contains spoilers for the entire series.]
Interviewer: In the final arc of "Buddy Daddies", some disturbing developments unfold in the lives of Kurusu Kazuki, Suwa Rei, and Unasaka Miri. How did that make you feel?
Kino: Kazuki, Rei, and Miri seemed to have become a real family, but once Miri's mother reappeared, I wondered just how things would progress towards the climax. Since it's an original series, I really was going ahead with zero idea of what was in store. I hoped no one would die, but in the end, Miri's mother did, and Kazuki and Rei took Miri in - that was a bit of a surprise. I was imagining all sorts of things, like, "I wonder if Rei's going to die..."
Uchiyama: Huh? Really?! (laughs)
Toyonaga: Even in the recording studio, we were chatting about "is someone gonna die..."
Kino: My father was also one of the viewers, and as he watched Rei's speedy evolution, he said, "I sure hope he doesn't die." (laughs)
Uchiyama: Come to think of it, him shouting, "Go for it!" at sports day really feels like a death flag.
Toyonaga: When it comes down to it, Miri-chan is in the most tragic situation of all - she's gone through the disaster of losing both her real parents. It's just Miri-chan's age that keeps her from fully understanding her circumstances; when we were recording live, I kept thinking that this must be so tough for Kino-san, who understands everything, but instead has to keep up that pure innocence the whole time.
Kino: The storyline and character backgrounds are rather dark, so I figured surely Miri would be heartbroken and burst into tears, sometime in the final arc. But there was no scene like that, all the way to the very end. Her only crying scenes were when she was throwing tantrums, so throughout the whole series, she stands out being as a girl with a bright smile. But I feel like the reason why Miri can stay ignorant of all this is because Kazuki-papa and Rei-papa take such good care of her. So I also tried to play the role without letting any stray thoughts get into my head.
Toyonaga: Her papas might have stayed a "comedian" and an "oil baron" until the very end. (laughs)
Interviewer: Kazuki and Rei's feelings towards Miri also underwent major changes, compared to how they started out.
Toyonaga: The entire plot was structured around the idea that the assassin job would hinder them in being parents; eventually, as a result of them being subordinates to the organisation, their ties - to Rei's father and so on - would get in the way. If so, what decision would the two of them make regarding Miri-chan? That was how things played out. And they did exchange blows with Ogino (Ryo) after all. In episode 10, they thought, "We can't change," and temporarily decided to return Miri to her mother - but in episode 11, both of them were incredibly hung up on this, and they ultimately couldn't let go. I think that's just how indispensable Miri-chan's presence had become to Kazuki and Rei, over the course of those 11 episodes.
Uchiyama: In the episode 10 ferris wheel scene, Rei expresses some lingering reluctance, with a melancholy look we've never seen from him before. That's where you can really see his emotional development. Another striking moment is in episode 11, where Rei confirms that Miri is unhurt, and brings up wanting to adopt her. It's quite a bold change for Rei to say something like that, even though Kazuki is saying it'd be better to step aside. He's voicing his feelings, in the longest lines of dialogue he's ever had, in order to change Kazuki's mind; it really has such a climactic feeling to it. I was wondering exactly how I myself should play this, in order to sway Kazuki emotionally.
Toyonaga: You really never talked so much before episode 11.
Uchiyama: In episode 12, there's also a scene where he's giving his father a long speech; when I saw the script, I went, "That's a lot..."
Toyonaga: Yeah, that was me all the time, up to episode 10. (laughs)
Uchiyama: Sorry! (laughs) Anyway, Rei's dialogue increases drastically in the second half of the show, and he displays a side you haven't seen at all in the first half. It leaves quite an impact.  
Toyonaga: The fact that he can say so much to his father - that's new too.
Interviewer: After all that, in the final episode, we're shown how the trio's future plays out. 
Uchiyama: That was a real surprise. If Miri's a high school student now, that means about ten years have passed. I was totally in the dark about that ending until I saw the script. I incorporated quite an adult tone into my voice whenever I was voicing Rei, so I thought, "If you're going to jump ahead into the future, give me a heads-up first!" (laughs) He's a dark character who's lived as an assassin this whole time, so I was already pulling out all the stops to make him as adult as I could manage. "I can't make him any older than this!" I thought.
Toyonaga: I was right next to him in the studio, and he told me, "No, I can't go any lower than this." (laughs)
Uchiyama: Actually, they didn't ask for any major changes. They weren't going for a simplistic sense of ageing - they just wanted him to seem like he'd matured somewhat emotionally. I appreciated that. Kazuki is 39 years old, I think. 
Toyonaga: Yeah, he grew a beard and all.
Uchiyama: And Rei being 36 was a shock.
Toyonaga: Likewise, rather than "Kazuki's gotten older", it was more like we should simply be aware of the passage of time. And when you think about it rationally, the 39-year-old Kazuki is around the same age as me now. I turn 39 this year. So I thought it'd be nice if I could portray a certain age-appropriate composure. Kino-san, I bet you were even more surprised?
Kino: That's right. When I received the script for episode 12, there was a drawing of a grown-up Miri on the back cover, and it gave me such a shock. Then I checked the footage and saw that she really had grown up; I was so taken aback! I usually play a lot of little kids, so I went into the studio thinking, "Will this really work out?" During rehearsals, I was keeping her age increase in mind, so I tried to give a pretty subdued performance. But I was told that the bubbliness was "very Miri", and it would be best to keep that. So I course-corrected for the actual performance. I think Miri's total emotional stability must be the result of Kazuki and Rei's trial-and-error parenting, and that's why all of them were able to find their happy ending. You can sense that they've become a real family.
Toyonaga: I once asked Director Asai, just in passing, how it would all turn out in the end. He said something like, "For a story like this, a tragic ending is also a real possibility..." So I was also on tenterhooks, wondering if they'd all die. I think the director fretted over it a lot too, but in the end, shouldering their various burdens, they moved forward together and became a family. I feel like it's an incredibly heartwarming ending, don't you?
Interviewer: Now that Miri is a high school girl, what will happen if she gets a sweetheart...?
Toyonaga: I think it'll be really tough to win Kazuki and Rei over.
Kino: I agree. In Kazuki's fantasy scenes, he said something like, "I'll kill you!"
Uchiyama: Right, he had fantasies of the future too.
Kino: There were scenes of Miri as a gyaru. And some predictions of a future with Taiga-kun.
Toyonaga: I wonder how Taiga-kun's doing in the future. Are they still in touch?
Kino: If so, Taiga-kun might be in danger. (laugh)
Interviewer: Looking back at all twelve episodes, which scenes or incidents left the strongest impression on you?
Uchiyama: Miri sang a lot. At the beginning of that episode, and at the end too.
Kino: She did. I practised once I got the scripts, but for her mother’s song, I received a demo song beforehand. Since Miri's mother was a singer, Miri loves singing; that's part of the whole setup, which was rather nervewracking. As for the kids' TV programme, I listened to the music through headphones and sang along on the spot - I went like "aaa-aaa-aaa~ ♪"
Uchiyama: It's not like Miri is in a musical - the songs contain different fluctuating emotions, and the point isn't to just sing them as beautifully as possible. It has to be a more varied portrayal. Also, Kazuki is a great cook, so I remember them eating lots of delicious-looking food.
Toyonaga: But you guys only ever grumbled about it. (laughs)
Kino: There really were quite a few scenes of "Miri hates this!"
Uchiyama: Rei has the same palate as Miri - he can't handle anything too elaborate. As for Miri, the taste of premade meals reminds her of her mother.
Toyonaga: When Rei was helping to make bento, he stuffed gummies in the onigiri.
Uchiyama: But it went over well with the children. All that food content was fun.
Toyonaga: Besides that - basically, Miri-chan's always a cutie.
Uchiyama: The thing about Miri-chan is that she doesn't just have cute or charming faces. There are plenty of "meanie Miri" expressions.
Kino: There really are. She seriously has such a rich range of expressions; as we went into the second half of the show, I kept thinking, "Wow, we get to see faces like that too?" It made me feel like my vocal performance had no restrictions either - like, "I can just let myself loose."
Toyonaga: How are you so good at playing a four-year-old?
All: (laugh)
Uchiyama: You make an incredibly realistic four-year-old.
Kino: Really? Thank you!
Toyonaga: Amazing, isn't it? When did you get this good?
Kino: When, huh... There are little kids who are naturally quiet, and there are those, like Miri, who scream "Boring!" and kick up a fuss. But starting from the audition, I figured I'd express my emotions innocently, just as they were. I wailed "Aaahh!" so much, things probably got really loud. When I was overdoing it, I was directed to dial it down a bit, and I adjusted accordingly.
Toyonaga: Whenever Miri-chan was happy or excited, she let out this incredibly high-pitched "Aaaahh!" I loved that. Kids really do react just like that.
Kino: Thank you very much. (laughs)
Interviewer: Can you tell us your personal favourite episodes?
Kino: The sports day scenes in episode 9 almost made me cry when I watched them. Kazuki was actually bawling, but it was such an incredibly warm and fluffy episode. I love it.
Uchiyama: Sports day was very exciting.
Toyonaga: It's fluffy and feel-good, but it makes you want to cry.
Kino: Rei cheering for Miri and regretting it afterwards was also very cute.
Uchiyama: It's true that Rei yelling like that totally threw Miri off. As for me, I'll say episode 10. It feels like a turning point in the story, plus it made me want to go to an amusement park. (laughs) There's something very appealing about a place like a ferris wheel. Out of all the various attractions, a ferris wheel feels most like a private room - it's an enclosed space where sound is cut off. I think it's a very special kind of space. After having fun all day, deep conversations can naturally arise within that sort of atmosphere. It was the perfect match for those story developments. You can really feel the misery of the final arc setting in; it's very memorable.
Toyonaga: And I'll go with episodes 7 and 8, which are standout episodes for Kazuki and Rei respectively. In episode 7, Kazuki talks to (Izumi) Karin-chan, his late wife's younger sister, and I kept all that incredible dramatic weight in mind when playing that scene. Approaching that material was a real challenge to me as an actor, so in that sense, it left an impression on me. And as for episode 8, when Rei is interacting with the boss of the organisation, you can really see the chains he's been shouldering this whole time, and everything that's made Rei the way he is now. Getting to learn about these things was definitely memorable.  
Interviewer: Once again, what do you think is the appeal of "Buddy Daddies"?
Kino: Kazuki, Rei, and Miri all bear their own heavy burdens from their past. Miri is separated from her mother, Rei's father has only ever taught him to live as an assassin, and Kazuki is also shackled by a tragic history. If you look at it that way, it's a dark story, but when the three of them are together, there are so many comical scenes that make you laugh, or upbeat flashy scenes. It's an exquisitely maintained balance, and you really can't get enough of watching it. There are scenes that will warm your heart, and scenes that will make you cry. That wide variety means this show can reach all sorts of people, and I think that's what makes it so wonderful.
Toyonaga: I think that different people who watch this series find different things to connect with emotionally. It can be enjoyed and judged in totally contrasting ways, depending on the viewer's individual experiences, lifestyles, and circumstances. That makes it a very fascinating show. People who are relatively young might relate to Miri-chan, and may project Kazuki and Rei onto their own parents. And that could lead to a lot of diverse opinions and reactions being exchanged - to me, that's one of the most appealing things about this show.
Uchiyama: The atmosphere of the series turns on a dime from comedic to serious, changing between one scene and the next, so you can barrel right through each episode without it ever feeling stale. I find that very enjoyable. And it ends with a timeskip to the future - that came as a real surprise to us too. All in all, the colourful plot twists and unpredictability really set this show apart. There's the unique sense of awe you only get from an original story.
Interviewer: Finally, please give a message to all the fans who have enjoyed "Buddy Daddies".
Kino: Through recording this one-cour story with a total of twelve episodes, I feel like I've gotten a glimpse of the sheer depths of human experience. I'm truly happy I could work on a series like this. As Toyonaga-san also said, it's a show which people can enjoy from many different perspectives, but since I played Miri, there were so many scenes which reminded me of my parents. The delicious cornflakes I ate as a child, being cheered on at sports day - all sorts of memories came back to me. I really hope this show also reawakened some warm memories for everyone in the audience. Thank you so much for watching to the very end.
Uchiyama: "Buddy Daddies" is an original series, so in a sense, it has plenty of blank spaces left. Kazuki and Rei's pasts, the details of the organisation, Kyu-chan's (Kugi Kyutaro's) private life... there are still some things we don't know. Also, what happened in the missing years during the finale's sudden timeskip? What sort of conversations took place as Miri was growing up? How did they end up at the diner? I think it's a lot of fun to fill in those gaps with your imagination. The anime is over, but I hope you will continue to enjoy yourselves in those blank spaces. Thank you very much for watching every episode.
Toyonaga: To everyone who watched all twelve episodes, thank you from the bottom of my heart. "Buddy Daddies" presented me, the actor Toyonaga Toshiyuki, with so many opportunities to challenge myself, and it really has been a delight. I'm also a father of one - I'm raising a daughter around Miri's age. Through playing this role and mapping it on to my own circumstances, I've learnt a lot in this one cour - both as an actor, and as father to a child. The series ended in an incredibly beautiful way, so rather than a sequel, I feel like it would lend itself well to occasional standalone spinoff episodes. I also look forward to being able to meet Kazuki, Rei, and Miri-chan again, and in the meantime, I will do my best as a real papa. Thank you so much.
218 notes · View notes
estrellami-1 · 1 year
Text
Soft Touch Baby
Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3
After that discussion, Steve notices that Robin touches him more. It’s great, more than great, his soul feels like it’s settling more in his body.
What isn’t great is it seems like Eddie’s figured out the same thing, and thinks it applies to him, too. While he’s not wrong, not in any sense of the word, Steve has enough to do just to not squirm when they’re near each other, let alone touching.
This is probably what Robin means when she rolls her eyes with a shit-eating grin and murmurs, “Gay panic?”
Too bad for her Steve knows her, so he just leans back and whispers, “Bi panic, and no.”
She snorts and responds, “Eddie panic, then,” and curse her, because he knows that she knows that he doesn’t have a response.
“Shut up,” he mutters, face turning red, and she cackles as she pats his shoulder.
“Coke, anyone?” She asks, standing, holding up both her hands when everyone starts yelling. “Whoa, whoa,” she said. “One person here. Two hands. Steve, Eddie, help.”
It’s not a request, like she knows they’ll drop everything to help her, and… they do. Eddie jumps up with his usual enthusiasm. Steve stands slower, glaring at Robin until she turns the look back on him.
“I hate you,” he mutters on the way to the kitchen, and she just laughs.
“Love you too, dingus.”
Eddie’s already got his head in the fridge by the time they get to the kitchen. “Steve, another beer?”
Steve hums. “Think I’ll do a Coke instead.”
“Of course, my liege,” he says, spinning around on one knee to offer the bottle to Steve. Steve holds in a snort.
“Thanks. You’re welcome to a beer if you want it.”
Eddie makes a face. “Probably shouldn’t, I’m gonna have to drive home after this. You got Sprite anywhere in this big fancy kitchen of yours?”
“If it’s not in that cabinet, you’re out of luck. You’re welcome to stay the night, if you do decide on the beer.” Robin gives him an appraising look, and he lifts his chin back at her. He’s not completely hopeless.
Eddie looks at him in a way he doesn’t exactly want to think about yet but will definitely think about later. Like tonight. “I might,” he says softly, devoid of his usual chaotic energy.
Steve inclines his head. “Just let me know. Or I could drive you home.“
Eddie narrows his eyes. Steve’s brain chooses this moment to realize Robin is no longer in the kitchen, that they’re alone, that Eddie is closer than he has any right to be, that Steve isn’t backing away. That Steve doesn’t want to back away. “You, Steve Harrington, are something else.”
Steve’s brain chooses to take that as a compliment and make him blush. He doesn’t say anything, breaks eye contact but doesn’t back away. Finally, his brain thinks of something. “There are many different kinds of armor.”
Eddie stills for a moment, stares at Steve, then nods. “It’s usually the loneliest thing of all, huh?”
Steve huffs a dry laugh in agreement, watching as Eddie moves away, back to the fridge to grab a bottle. “Think I will have that beer after all, if the couch offer is still open.”
“No,” Steve says without thinking, only realizing how it sounds when Eddie starts to shut down. “No, wait, sorry, I meant not the couch, I wouldn’t make you sleep there, I have…” he waves a hand around, “spare rooms. Beds.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, opening up again. Steve’s brain chooses to compare him to a flower, which, could his brain be any gayer in this moment?
“Oi, Thing One and Thing Two,” Robin calls, and Steve realizes when Eddie starts and backs up that they were really close to each other. Steve looks away, glancing back briefly, before moving to grab a Coke for Dustin.
“Hold your horses,” Steve calls back, but the moment’s broken and he’s not brave enough to try to fix it.
Pt 3
341 notes · View notes
arteastica · 9 months
Text
early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (7)
erwin x fem!reader
chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26)
summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)
notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?
content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)
wc: 2.8k
You weren’t exactly sure why, but the sight of someone analyzing financial records in the middle of a late-summer afternoon was, all of a sudden, so interesting to you. Long, experienced fingers tapping on the desk, rolled-up sleeves revealing a pair of well-muscled forearms that were generously sprinkled with light brown hair, tense neck muscles occasionally drawing a circle in the air, and jungle-dense eyebrows temporarily locked in a slight frown. He had been sitting there since noon, hadn’t even paused for lunch. It seemed like he didn’t have eyes for anything or anyone else but that paper in front of him. And that annoyed you a little.
So much could have been said about his superhuman ability to focus or his equally remarkable jawline, but he looked up to stretch his neck and saw you. And you figured it was already too late to start pretending you had been busy with something other than staring, even though your ears felt impossibly hot and suggested otherwise. If he thought it was weird that his assistant had been creepily staring at him while he worked, he must have been too polite to tell you, because instead, he smiled softly.
“I will be done soon. Then we can go over the winter budget, as well as anything else you might need for the coming days.”
“When will you be back?” You really wanted to know, but as soon as the question left your mouth, you wished you had sounded more like an assistant and less like a wife.
“I should be back by Monday. Sorry to leave you alone with all of this.” He looked at the papers on his desk.
It’s not like you were taking his place, you were just going to keep his paperwork from piling up and make sure a demoralizing list of unfinished tasks wouldn’t be waiting for him when he returned. You didn’t know what he was off to, though, just that he would be going to Sina, and that he was taking Armin, Mikasa, and a few other soldiers with him. Given that those two were on the list, you wondered if this sudden excursion to the capital had something to do with Eren. Most likely. More like you wanted to think so. Because that, at least, would provide some much needed context.
In all honesty, you were a little hurt he hadn’t taken you with him, and that he was taking some of your former classmates instead. You had gotten so used to being on the receiving end of his polite requests and recurrent demands, that it was a little hard to accept the fact that he would be just fine without you. You had forgotten that, in fact, he had been just fine without you for the vast majority of his time as commander.
But on the other hand, a small part of you was actually grateful that he was leaving. Distance sounded like something that both you and your busy head could benefit from. It just felt like it would.
“It’s fine. When you come back, you’ll find everything exactly as you left it.” You smiled back, trying to reassure both him and yourself that you could handle his absence.
-
The moon had long claimed her spot in the sky when you were finally able to slip under the covers. One good thing about living in a big castle was that everyone got their own room. There weren’t many scouts to begin with, barely three hundred if you weren’t mistaken, and a lot of them weren’t even positioned in the headquarters. And it was after stressful and unnecessarily long days like this one, that you were particularly glad you had a room for yourself.
Your job wasn’t the problem. Yes, it was true that you were busier now that all of the commander’s paperwork went directly to you, and that his absence had unfortunately coincided with the beginning of the winter stockpiling process, which by the way, was proving to be significantly more challenging than you expected, given the limited resources available. But none of that was the problem. The problem was everything else.
It was the fact that Sasha, Reiner, Krista, Connie and the others had all been sent to another camp so they could be monitored by Squad Leader Miche, and that you didn’t know what they would need monitoring for, in the first place.
It was the fact that whoever was inside the female titan hadn’t been caught yet, and the possibility that there could be a spy living under the same roof as you.
It was the fact that it had been three nights since they had left for the capital, and you hadn’t heard from them at all.
It was the fact that every time you looked at his chair, it was still empty. And most importantly, the fact this made your heart weigh like a rock.
So, when your hand reached between your legs, you were certainly glad you had a room completely for yourself. Your fingers were always helpful on nights when you needed to decompress. So you tilted your head back, closed your eyes, and welcomed them in. But this time, when you felt their delicate touch caressing you through the fabric, you pictured fingers that didn’t belong to you. When they impatiently slipped under the cotton, you saw a smile that didn’t come from your lips. When they delightfully played with your clit and your breath quickened, you saw a face that had become as familiar as your reflection, but that looked nothing like yours. When they stretched you out exquisitely and your mouth opened wide to let out a silent moan, you heard a voice that didn’t sound like yours. And when they entered you repeatedly and you rolled your hips to match their delicious pace, you wanted to moan one name in particular. His name.
But you knew once his name left your lips, there would be no coming back. How were you supposed to look at him again after that? And most importantly, how were you supposed to keep fooling yourself after that?
-
Shameless. The way you practically ran down the stairs the moment you saw the convoy in the distance. Outrageous. The way your body forgot what a normal heart rate was supposed to be like the moment you caught sight of him. Completely unacceptable. The way your brain spent all that will power trying to stop you from throwing yourself into his arms, some part of you clearly struggling to understand that one is not supposed to hug one’s boss, no matter how long they had been gone for, or how good they smelled. And, most of all, extremely concerning. How the familiar sight of him sitting at his desk had been enough to melt your stress away, even though the winter stockpiling and the other problems you had been worrying about for the last few days were nothing but solved.
Except for one. The identity of the female titan had been revealed. Turns out that had been the sole purpose of their visit to Sina. You had never been particularly close with Annie, not that she was close with anyone for that matter, but still. To think that you had shared a room with her for three whole years sent chills down your spine. So you tried to avoid thinking about it.
And although the alleged spy living among you hadn’t been identified yet, catching the Female had been a complete morale booster for everyone at the headquarters, and as a result, the ale-induced singing was back in full swing, much to the dismay of your ears. You were certain that the ale rations wouldn’t last long. At that rate, they would have no booze left to warm them up during the cold months. And you had voiced these concerns to the commander. But he had just smiled reassuringly, as it was very much in character for him, and told you to let them have it.
“Occasions to celebrate are rare in this day and age, which reminds me,” he pulled a small tin box out of a drawer “I got you something.”
For me? Strange. You couldn’t remember having butterflies for lunch. But you tried to ignore them, and instead focused your efforts on helping your trembling fingers open the box.
And as soon as you saw what was inside, your eyes hurried to find him. Your mind suddenly flooded with memories that you realized were so distant now.
“But, commander, this costs an arm and a leg.” Your voice did nothing to contain the childlike joy you were experiencing. Figs were scarce, especially the ones that grew in the equally limited plots of land inside wall Sina. And this, the dried variety, was your favorite. It was not something people would indulge in often, however.
“Don’t worry about it. You told me it's been months since you last went home. Figured you must miss it.”
And there it was again. That excited flutter in your belly, as well as that problematic urge to jump into his arms. But you settled for an enthusiastic nod instead.
“Fig season, it was the time my father dreaded the most. I always came home from school with my bag full of fruit.” You reminisced aloud, longing present in every word. “It would always end up the same: my father complaining about me not understanding the value of money, all while munching on a fig himself.” You chuckled, and realized you actually wouldn’t mind getting scolded again. “But once he was done lecturing me, I would go to my room, lay them on the balcony, and wait for days. The scolding was agonizing but not as much as having to wait for the fruit to dry. I have never liked fresh figs that much really.” Your eyes drifted back to him just as you were about to start elaborating on the reason for that. “I’m sorry, you must have better things to do. But can I ask one last question?”
He nodded reassuringly, and you went ahead.
“How did you get them? I mean, didn’t Stohess get pretty damaged by Ann- the female titan?”
“I got them before that happened. As well as this.” He handed you a letter. The pretentious golden wax sealing it had already been broken, and upon closer inspection, you realized it was an invitation.
“A ball?” You asked him, voice thick with incredulity. Not only the city had been destroyed, but lots of lives had been lost during Eren and Annie’s clash. “Isn’t it a little… insensitive? I mean, holding an event like this, after what happened?”
“It is. Hange said the same thing. Everyone would rather not go, but we figured this will be a good opportunity to rub shoulders with potential contributors. I’m guessing what happened in Stohess wasn’t much of an issue for the organizers, since the event won’t be taking place there anyway.”
You eyed the invitation again. Mitras. In fact, it was not far from your house.
“You are from the capital, right? I was thinking you could take advantage of the opportunity and get to see your family.” A very pleasant warmth spread through your chest at the idea. You actually missed home quite a bit. “But you don’t have to attend if you don’t want to, so don’t feel pressured. Just think about it. Levi wished he had a choice.”
You couldn’t help letting out a chuckle. Dancing did sound very out of character for Captain Levi.
-
You eyed the small tin box on your desk, which was now missing more than half of its original content. You had already decided you were going to keep it even after the figs were all gone. It’s not like you were starting a collection or anything, but you enjoyed looking at the box. Something about it sent a tingling warmth down your limbs, and it happened to be the same kind of warmth you felt when staring at him. With the box, however, you didn’t risk getting caught. And that was a considerable advantage.
With that said, he seemed to be very busy now and, as far as you knew, a little staring never killed anyone. Good gracious. For someone reading a fat, dusty book about boring royal history, he was way too entertaining for the eyes. You liked observing him because, no matter how much you did it, there was always something new to look at, to notice, to tell your journal about. You had been wondering for a while, about his hair. It was always perfectly groomed, neatly parted on the left side. In fact, it was so obedient that you had never seen him tucking it behind his ear. He seemed to take such good care of it. No. Actually, not only his hair. Every aspect of his appearance was always so well-cared for.
It was a mystery, how someone with that many daily demands managed to keep a clean shave, impeccable hair, and smell that good at all times. You found the thought of him, taking a few minutes every morning to stand in front of a mirror and take care of himself, oddly comforting. It was nice to know there were at least small moments of normalcy in the life of the 13th Commander of the Survey Corps. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering, however, how would his hair look disheveled and sticking to his sweaty forehead, and that tingling sensation in your lower stomach reminded you that it was probably time to look away.
So your eyes reluctantly traveled to the other side of the room, where they landed on the old chess board he kept by the fireplace. But even there, the question remained the same: When does he even play? Maybe sometimes, on very rare nights when there were no reports to write and no strategies to plan, he poured himself a glass of wine and sat by the fireplace to indulge in a rightfully deserved game of chess. But whether that happened or not, you realized it would, most likely, always remain a mystery to you. And you found yourself wishing your presence in his office wasn’t limited to official hours.
“It was my father’s.” The sound of his voice drew you away from your discontentment. “He said playing helped him think straight. More rationally.” He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “And less impulsively.” His eyes were all those glacial colors, but you swore sometimes they could burn so much.
“There’s nothing wrong with impulsive thoughts.” You held his gaze firmly as you spoke. “As long as we don’t act on them.”
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Do you play?”
You shook your head lightly. “I never learned.” Which was weird, given the fact that chess was extremely popular back in Mitras and almost everyone played, even your parents. Whether they enjoyed it or not didn’t really matter, that was besides the point, because in the capital, chess wasn’t really played for entertainment purposes. “My mother tried to teach me when I was little. She insists it’s an important life skill. The game is somewhat of a status symbol where I live.”
He nodded in understanding. “The only thing my predecessor asked before appointing me was ‘are you good at chess?’ In the capital, the game is used as a tool to assess people and their value. If you perform well, they will believe everything you say, they will finance any project you propose, irrespective of the cost. But if your game is weak,”
“They won’t even listen to what you have to say.” You finished the thought. Despite having never seen him play, you were certain a man like him never struggled to be taken seriously. “How long have you been playing?”
“Since I was old enough to learn.”
“You must be very passionate.” You didn’t intend that sentence to come out in something similar to a whisper, but honestly you didn’t mind. And, if the way his lips curved was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to either.
“Or addicted. When sleep evades me, I play. When I need a fresh perspective, I play.” His demeanor slowly matured into something less playful as he spoke. “When I can’t make sense of what I’m feeling, I play.”
“And when you’re having impulsive thoughts?” You held his gaze boldly, even though it had never felt that heavy before. “Do you also play then?”
“Sometimes. There are some thoughts, however, that I don’t mind having.” His eyes bore into yours as the words left his mouth. “I’m starting to think I like them.”
-
next chapter
taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee
121 notes · View notes