Still making fic covers, this time for my short series of also short and surprisingly political bartender AUs set in an old-fashioned pub in a small university town.
Recommended Reading
M, 15261 words.
Summary:
Bartender Crowley has always had a thing for the posh boys from Tadfield University. So when one of them walks into his pub on a Tuesday afternoon looking for his book club, he’s ready to have his heart broken all over again. But there is something special about Aziraphale. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.
New Year's at the Tadfield Arms
T, 3133 words.
Summary:
It’s New Year’s at the Tadfield Arms, and bartender Crowley is preparing for a very special night. Aziraphale’s first ever New Year’s party.
Party Policy
M, 17359 words.
Summary:
Bartender Crowley has a lot on his plate. The Tadfield Arms is struggling to make ends meet, his boyfriend is about to graduate university, and the upcoming General Election is getting tempers high. The future has never looked quite so uncertain. But with Aziraphale by his side, he knows he can tackle anything.
Excerpt from Recommended Reading:
‘Good afternoon. I’m looking for tubs.’
Crowley placed the last pint glass upside down on the shelf and turned around. The Tadfield Arms had been entirely empty just a minute ago.
‘You what, mate?’
The bloke at the bar looked just like he sounded: soft, posh, nervous. Blond curls and tailored clothes. The unmistakeable look of a Tadfield University student, though the usual air of entitlement was missing. Instead, he looked terrified.
‘Um, I was told I would find tubs here, at this time. Six o’clock.’
Crowley blinked and placed his hands on the bar, leaning forward.
‘Tubs? Tubs of what? What the hell are you on about?’
The man looked like his flight-or-fight-response was about to kick in. Sea-glass-blue eyes widened. He took a rushed, shallow breath.
‘Sorry, I mean— not tubs. T-U-B-S. Tadfield University Book Society. I was told they meet here for their classics book club on Tuesdays at six? And as you’re the only one here, I thought you might—’
Crowley snorted.
‘Do I look like I run a book club?’
This seemed to give the stranger an invitation to look him up and down. Well, down to where the bar covered up the lower part of Crowley’s body. The man’s eyes roamed over the red hair tied messily into a bun, the unfortunate face tattoo, and — the biggest giveaway really — the black apron tied around his narrow waist.
‘I’m sorry, I thought… oh, bother!’
Crowley’s first instinct was to laugh. Oh, bother? Was he for real? But then the man deflated, slumping down into himself, which took a good two inches off his height. It was a sad picture, blond curls falling softly into the man’s forehead as he looked down at his toes.
‘Hey,’ Crowley said, surprising himself with the gentleness of his tone, ‘it’s only five to six. You’re probably just early. Can I get you anything while you wait?’
The man looked up, lips trembling. Crowley noticed just how young he was in the face, in complete juxtaposition to his whole history professor outfit. Twenty, tops. He’d definitely have to card him.
‘Do you, um, do you serve hot chocolate?’
‘Mate. This is a pub.’
‘Does that mean no?’
Was he taking the piss? Couldn’t be. This man looked too bloody sincere in his request.
‘I can make you a tea, if you like.’
The pub didn’t offer tea, either. Crowley shut his eyes in annoyance at his own stupid softness. Fucking hell. He didn’t want to disappoint the student. A nervous smile spread on his face, and it warmed Crowley like sunlight.
‘Oh,’ he said, in an indecently breathy voice, ‘that would be lovely. Thank you.’
Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.
Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.
Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing…
Summary: Leda goes into labor, and of course things don’t quite go as planned…
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Previous chapters can be found here.
Over the next several weeks, winter gave way to spring and when summer finally arrived, Leda despaired of ever being able to see her feet again. She was tired of all of it—tired of her back aching, tired of not being able to find a comfortable sleeping position, tired of not being able to see if her shoes matched. And although Thorin did his best to try to help, she grew more short tempered as the heat and humidity rose and she grew nearer the end of her pregnancy. She couldn’t help it. She was just flat out miserable, waddling everywhere, with everyone asking her, “Haven’t you had those babies yet?” as if she was just putting it off for as long as possible to make everyone around her ask stupid questions.When she passed her due date without a single contraction, she wanted to cry. She just wanted the whole thing over with.
Halfway through July, she sat in her OB’s office, explaining that while all she’d had to eat that day was a single graham cracker and a cup of coffee, she wasn’t actively trying to lose weight.
“There’s just no place to put any food,” she said, rubbing the side of her belly. She felt as if she’d swollen to the size of a house and if Thorin had shot girls at the Dunraven now, she’d probably flat out kill one of them. Maybe more than one. Just on general principle.
“So, you aren’t trying to lose weight?” Dr. Cherot asked, a hint of a frown creasing between her thin eyebrows.
“No! I just… I can’t eat anything more. Look at me! I’m all baby!”
Dr. Cherot offered up a warm smile. “If you don’t go into labor by Monday, we’ll see about inducing you.”
“Monday!” Leda’s eyes stung with unexpected tears of frustration. “But that’s, like, four days from now… seriously? I’m already a week overdue as it is. With twins. And everyone insisted I’d be early because of that…”
“I know, and a lot of the time, that is the case. But, you are the exception to the rule and Monday is the demarcation day. If you haven’t gone by then, we’ll admit you to the hospital and get the ball rolling.”
Leda sank back in her chair, her spirits flattened, eyes stinging. She was so fucking tired of being pregnant. If Thorin thought they were having any more kids after this, he was fucking crazy. She was not doing this again if she could help it.
One of the babies wedged a foot into the bottom of her lung and she winced at the sudden feeling of breathlessness. “Four more days, though?”
“You can do it, Leda. You’ve come this far.” Dr. Cherot closed her file and stood. “It will be over soon, and in the meantime, a glass of red wine a night might help kick things into gear. And if you feel up to it, have sex. That can also trigger labor in some women.”
“What?”
The doctor nodded. “No one is exactly sure why, but red wine seems to help in getting labor started. Anyway, a glass won’t hurt at this point. And sex? If nothing else, it’ll make you feel better.”
“Why do I doubt that?” Leda sighed as she rubbed her forehead. “I’m desperate, Dr. Cherot. I’ll try anything at this point.”
The doctor smiled. “I know. The last few weeks are by far the worst, but you’ll get through it. You’ll see. So, I will see you on Monday if not before.”
Leda nodded and sighed when the doctor left the room. She was already eight days beyond her due date and this was fucking irritating as hell. She was tired and grouchy and all she wanted was to get labor and delivery over with.
As she stood, she reached for her purse, only to knock in on the floor, and she just stared down at in in horror, trying to figure out just how she’d pick it up. She felt so huge, she was convinced she’d face plant if she leaned over, so instead, she squatted.
Her knees crunched and as she leaned slightly, a sudden kink took her breath from her lungs. She breathed through it, grabbing her purse as the pain faded and straightened up once more. By the time she was out and in her car—a black Honda Accord that she still wasn’t used to driving—the pain had subsided entirely.
Or so she thought.
Instead, it came back by the time she was home, and as time passed, it grew more and more uncomfortable. Thorin was at the Dunraven until ten, but by as the day wore on, Leda couldn’t stand it any more. She’d done everything the doctor recommended—she walked, she drank water until her back teeth floated—all for naught. The pain grew steadier and harder and by nine o’clock, she was on the phone with Dr. Cherot.
By ten-fifteen, the Dunraven was busier than it had been in weeks. Thorin leaned back against the shelves of liquor bottles, sipping a glass of ginger ale as Zana said, “If you want to go, Thorin, we can close up for you.”
“No way. Leda’s on the warpath at the moment. She’s done with being pregnant.”
“I don’t blame her,” Zana said. “The last few weeks are the worst. I hope you’re bending over backwards to make life easier for her.”
“For her and for me. She’s liable to kill me in my sleep otherwise.” He met Zane’s stare. “I’m trying, Zane. But there’s only so much I can do and even that just seems to piss her off.”
“It’s uncomfortable and her hormones are driving her nuts. She’ll go back to her usual self eventually. But,” she leaned closer, “you be careful around that blonde down there. She’s been undressing you with her eyes since she sat down.”
He glanced over at the blonde at the far end of the bar, who promptly offered up a slow smile. Once upon a time, he’d have been all over that but now? Now, he said, “You take care of her. I’m not in the mood to deal with it.”
“And that’s something I never thought I’d ever hear from Thorin Durin,” she said with a playful bump of her hip against his.
“I’ve got the girl I want.” He glanced down at the heavy wedding ring on his finger. He was finally accustomed to the weight of it, and it no longer felt quite so strange.
What he had noticed, however, was how it seemed to draw women instead of repelling them. In the four and a half months since he and Leda got married, more women hit on him than he had in the year before he’d met her. And where once upon a time he’d have done his best to accommodate all of them, now he just wanted them to leave him alone.
Zana winked as she passed by him. “Call your wife and see if she needs you to bring anything home, then go home and pamper her. We’ve got this.”
“I’ll think ab—” His cell rang and he dug it from his pocket. “Hey, Motorcycle Girl, what’s up?”
“It’s time, Thorin,” she said, sounding more than a little out of breath.
His spine stiffened of its own. “What?”
“I just got off the phone with Dr. Cherot and she said it’s time for me to go to the hospital. I’m in labor.”
“Oh, fuck…”
She let out a soft laugh. “It’s okay. I’m going to have an Uber take me there and you can meet me, okay?”
He glanced down at his watch. “You sure, baby? I can come—”
“I’m positive. Please just meet me there.”
“If you’re—”
“Thorin!”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll meet you in the ER?”
Zana looked up at that and mouthed, “The babies?”
He nodded as Leda said, “Yes, the ER. I’ll see you there?”
“Do you think I’d say no?”
“Thorin.”
“I’ll be there, mesmel. I’m leaving now. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now get here.”
She clicked off and he looked up to see Zana staring at him with wide, shiny eyes. “Oh, no,” he said softly, shaking his head, “do not cry, Zane. I need you to hold down the fort, okay?”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so happy for the two of you, you know that, right?”
“Thank you.” He gave her a quick squeeze, then gently extracted himself from her grasp. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to actually be there when my boys are born.”
“Oh, right. Yes!” Zana stepped back, wiping her eyes. “Call us as soon as you have the vitals—sex, weight, length, and names.”
“I will.”
He shoved his phone into his back pocket as he moved around the bar, pausing when Jimmy said, “Hey, Durin?”
Thorin paused. “Yeah?”
“Give Miss Leda a kiss and tell her good job.”
“I will, man.”
Jimmy bobbed his head, held up his Bud as if in a toast and Thorin grinned as he left the taproom to go to his office and grab his keys. Dwalin appeared in the doorway. “Zana said Leda’s in labor?”
“Yeah. If you need me—”
“We’ve got this. Go and be with your wife, Thorin. And congratulations, man.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.” He brushed by Dwalin and hurried out to the parking lot. Thankfully, the Mustang turned right over and he carefully backed from his space. It certainly wouldn’t do any good to get into an accident now.
He pulled into the Emergency parking deck, found a spot, killed the engine, and hurried inside. At the reception desk, a nurse looked up at him. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah. My wife should’ve come through here. She’s in labor. Leda Durin.”
The nurse typed something into the computer and nodded. “She was taken up to Labor and Delivery. Sixth floor.”
“Thank you.” He practically sprinted to the elevator bank and had to keep himself from pacing as it seemed the cars were taking forever. Finally, the light lit, the chime chimed, and the elevator moved quick enough for him, and it was only a few minutes before he was at the reception desk there saying, “My wife is here—Leda Durin?”
“Ah… yes, she’s in Room Six-Oh-Four. Come with me, Mr. Durin.”
He followed the nurse down the hallway and as he caught sight of Room Six-Oh-Four, his eyes began to sting. Holy fuck, Leda was finally having the babies and it hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks.
He slowed, then stopped as emotion overwhelmed him. The nurse paused and turned to him. “Are you all right, Mr. Durin?”
He nodded, his throat so tight, he couldn't speak. He drew in a deep breath, swallowed hard, and managed to whisper, “Yeah. I just… I’m… It’s… I…”
She moved closer, patting his shoulder. “It’s okay, Mr. Durin. It’s a big thing, you know.”
“Yeah. I—I know.” He inhaled deeply once more and nodded. “I’m good now.”
She smiled. “Good. Come on then, before your wife throws something at you.”
He grinned and followed her into the spacious room. Leda was already in bed, an IV in place, fetal monitor around her belly, and as he came thought the doorway, she said, “I thought maybe you’d gotten lost.”
He moved over to slip his hand into hers. “Sorry, mesmel. I got blindsided by the enormity of this.”
Her hand gathered about his. “Yeah, I know.”
Then she sucked in a sharp breath and her fingers tightened about his. He brought her hand up to his lips and with his free hand, smoothed her hair back. As her fingers relaxed, he said, “When did it start?”
“Believe it or not, in Dr. Cherot’s office,” she said, sinking back into the pillows. “She was talking about inducing me by Monday and I bent over to pick up my purse and it hurt.”
“Why didn't you call me then, mimûna?”
She shot him a look, but then said, “There was no reason to. I thought it was just me bending funny. So, I went home and walked around and drank water like camel, and the pain not only didn't go away, but got worse, and here we are.”
“Here we are,” he murmured, kissing the back of her hand once more. Maybe it was just the emotion of the moment, but he’d swear he’d never seen her look as beautiful as she did right then.
He leaned over and brushed her lips with his. “I love you, Motorcycle Girl.”
She smiled, tucking her head against him. “I love you, too, Mustang Boy.”
“You’ve got this, Leda,” Dr. Cherot coached, looking up over Leda’s knees. “Give it all you’ve got and push this baby out.”
Leda shook her head. “No. I think I’m done. I don’t want to do this any more…”
Thorin winced as her fingers tightened about his hand. She’d been in labor for most of the night and looked utterly spent even as she squeezed his hand with enough force that he expected the bones to crunch at any moment. Still, he squeezed back—more gently—and said, “You’re almost there, mesmel.”
“You shut up,” she growled, glaring at him. “This is all your fault, you know.”
“I know, I know. All my fault.” He squeeze her hand again. “You can do this, amrâlimê. I know you can.”
She glowered at him, drew in a deep breath and then almost crushed his hand. Dr. Cherot encouraged her. He encouraged her. And just when he thought his hand would shatter, Dr. Cherot said, “Wait! Stop pushing, Leda!”
She waited a beat, then said, “Go!”
And with that, a scream filled the room and Thorin’s eyes misted over as the doctor held up a small, wrinkly, red-faced, squalling plucked chicken who sported a full head of black hair, and said, “It’s a boy!”
Leda sank back against her pillows, panting and sweating as she whispered, “Thank fuck…”
The nurse brought him over to place on Leda’s chest. Tears spilled over her lower lashes as she cradled the baby closer. “Oh my god… Thorin… we did it…”
“You did it,” he managed to whisper, his throat tightening as he bent to press a kiss into her forehead. “He’s perfect, mesmel. Absolutely perfect.”
She smiled up at him, her lips trembling and in that moment, he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. She smoothed a hand over the baby’s head and whispered, “Hello there, little man… I’ve been waiting to meet you, you know.”
“Dad, would you like to cut the cord?”
Thorin’s gut kinked and his mouth went dry as he stood and said, “Yeah, I—I think so, sure…”
“Okay.” Dr. Cherot passed him a pair of surgical scissors. “Right between the clamps.”
He closed the bladed about the cord and with a deep breath, cut through it. His vision blurred, his gut lurched a bit more, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out. But then he turned to look over at Leda and their son, and all of that vanished as he took in the sight.
It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Leda was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
And their son was the most beautiful baby ever born.
Leda looked up and as he met her gaze, Thorin almost stepped backward at the rush of emotion that slammed into him. No one told him what this moment would be like, how it would hit him so hard, and even if they had, he wouldn’t have believed it. Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. No one could. Not Frerin. Not Dís. Not Zana.
He moved back to her, and bent over to kiss her full on the lips, and when he drew back, he whispered, “You have no idea how much I love you, mesmel. He’s perfect.”
He smoothed a hand over the baby’s head of silky black hair. The red, wrinkled face scrunched, but his cries quieted as he lay against his mother. Leda leaned her head against Thorin’s chest and whispered, “We work well together, Mustang Boy.”
“Did you think we wouldn’t?”
A soft laugh rose to his ears and he kissed the top of her head again. The nurse came over to fasten an ID band about the baby’s ankle, and then wrapped him in a blanket. “We’re just going to weigh him and measure him and give him a bath, Mom. Then we’ll bring him back. Maybe his brother will be here by then.”
“Okay.” Leda swiped at the tears still streaking down her cheeks. “He needs a name, Thorin. Are you sure you don’t want to name him Thorin as well?”
“I’m positive,” he said softly, watching the nurse like a hawk as she carried the baby into the next room.
“So, what should we name him, then?”
He sank back onto his stool and reached over to smooth his hand over her head, along her damp hair. Damn, there were no words to describe this moment, to describe the emotions twisting and ribboning through him, the emotions that made his eyes sting and brought a lump to his throat. There simply weren’t. “I don’t know. We never got past the kidding around part of trying to come up with names. What was your dad’s name?”
“James.”
“Then let’s name him for his grandfathers—James Thráin.”
She smiled. “James Thráin it is.”
“And,” he sat back and let his hand come to rest on her belly, “maybe Andrew Thrór for this one?”
“Andrew?”
“Yeah. For you.” He brushed his thumb along her cheek. “You did all the work, so why not?”
She leaned into his touch. “Why not, indeed.”
The monitor around her belly began bleating and both he and Leda tensed while the nurse came around and said, “The baby must have moved. That’s all.” She adjusted it and the bleating stopped.
Dr. Cherot came back into the room with the hospital bassinet. She and the nurse checked the ID band about his ankle with the one Leda wore, reading the numbers aloud before Dr. Cherot asked, “Have you decided on a name for him?”
Leda nodded. “Meet James.”
“James.” The doctor nodded. “That’s one of my favorite names. Dad, would you like to hold him?”
Thorin turned slowly on his stool. “I would, absolutely.”
“Sure.” She bent to lift the infant from his bassinet and brought him over. “Just make sure to support his head and you’ll be fine.”
Thorin held his breath as she placed James in his arms and the baby’s face went blurry as his eyes misted over for the umpteenth time that night. “Hey there,” he said softly, gazing down into his son’s deep slate blue eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”
James stared up at him, those slate eyes wide and unblinking and Thorin couldn't hold back his smile if he tried. He immediately fell even more in love.
“Dr. Cherot, her water broke.”
“Okay.” Dr. Cherot smiled. “You ready for round two, Leda?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay. Freda, please take James into the nursery so Mom and Dad can concentrate?”
Freda nodded. “Of course.” She smiled at Thorin, then Leda. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad. He really is beautiful.”
Thorin caught Leda’s hand in his. “Ready, mesmel?”
She nodded and winced, her fingers tightening about his. She drew in a deep breath and a few minutes later, the fun started all over again. Only this time, it went far more quickly and it seemed like no time at all had passed before a wail filled the air once more and Dr. Cherot said, “And we have—wait…”
But then, her forehead wrinkled and she looked up. “Leda?”
A chill ran down Thorin’s back as Leda said, “What?”
“Well…” Dr. Cherot smiled, “you know how we didn't know you were carrying twins at first because one was hiding behind the other?”
“Yes…”
“Apparently that wasn’t all she was hiding.”
“She?” Thorin and Leda said at the same time.
Dr. Cherot nodded. “Congratulations, Mom, Dad, you have a daughter as well.”
“What the…” Leda burst out laughing as she leaned into his chest. “I’ll be damned, Thorin…”
Dr. Cherot held up the baby, who screamed her lungs out. Like her brother, she’d been born with a headful of black hair and just as he had, she quieted the moment she was placed in her mother’s arms.
“We have a baby girl, Thorin,” she whispered, pulling the baby closer. “A boy and a girl and are you okay?”
He just stared at his daughter, for like his son, she was perfect. And like with James, he was head over heels, completely in love. “I’m fine, amrâlimê, just a little surprised, is all,” he managed to whisper, looking from the baby to her. “I love you,” he added, leaning in to brush her lips with his.
“She needs a name,” Leda said softly. “I don’t think Andrew Thrór is going to work.”
He grinned. “No, definitely not.”
“What about Dawn?” She looked up at him. “Since she was born at the buttcrack of dawn.”
“Dawn Durin?”
“Oh… right… okay…”
“We could name her Andrea instead of Andrew,” he said.
“But Thrór?”
“Yeah that doesn’t work, either. Why not Andrea Dawn?”
She smiled. “I like that.”
“Dad, you have quite the audience out there and it’s growing by the hour,” Freda said with a grin as she reached for the baby. “Let us finish up here, while you go give the details and then we’ll get Leda to her room and if she’s up to it, they can all come and visit. In shifts.”
Thorin smiled, his spirits higher than they’d been in years. “Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”
“Thorin?” Leda caught him by the wrist. “Can you do me a favor?”
He turned to her. “Sure. What?”
“Call my mom and tell her she’s a grandmother.”
He nodded, then bent to kiss her again. It was long and lingering and when he drew back, he nuzzled her and whispered, “I do love you, Motorcycle Girl.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered back, her eyes sparkling as she added, “Mustang Boy.”
He swiped at his eyes as he turned and made his way out into the hallway. At the far end, in the waiting area, it seemed everyone he’d ever met had taken it over. Frerin and the kids were there, Zana, Dwalin, Jimmy was even there.
He smiled as he said, “Hey, everyone. Uh… James Thráin Durin arrived at six-ten this morning, weighing six pounds, two ounces and eighteen inches in length. And his sister—”
“Sister?” Zana broke in with a grin.
“Yes. It turns out his brother is actually his sister, Andrea Dawn, arrived at six-forty, weighing six pounds even and seventeen inches long. Leda’s amazing and she’ll be up to visitors soon. Dad’s still in a bit of shock, but I don’t think it’s a permanent condition.”
“Just you wait, Dad,” Zana said before hugging him. “Just you wait.”
****
Thorin gazed down at the infant asleep again his chest, and then over at Leda, who was asleep as well. The only light in the room was from the hallway, and all was quiet. The last of their visitors left hours earlier and now, Thorin held his daughter while his son slept peacefully in the hospital bassinet.
His daughter.
His son.
He smiled, smoothing a hand over Andrea’s head, smiling as she smacked her lips in her sleep. “Oh, mimûna, you were a surprise, you know. I mean, you and your brother were both surprises, but you were an even greater surprise, because we thought you were going to be a boy. Now, don’t think that means we aren’t happy you’re a girl, raklûn, because we are. Happy, but definitely surprised.”
Andrea slept on, obvious to her father’s whisperings. He shifted slightly in the chair alongside Leda’s bed. In the span of a few hours, they’d gone from a couple to a family, and he still marveled at the ten little fingers and ten little toes, and the perfect little faces and everything else about James and Andrea. His son. His daughter.
His children.
Their children.
“Thorin?”
He looked up at Frerin’s whisper and smiled. “Come on in, but be quiet. Leda’s asleep and so are the babies.”
Frerin came into the room. “How is she feeling?”
“Leda? She’s tired, but okay otherwise.” He glanced over at her. “It was an amazing thing to witness, Frer. I never expected to feel the way I did, the way I do, but damn… I’m in awe of her right now. You should’ve seen her. It was just… amazing. There’s no other way to describe it.”
“Yeah. I remember.” Frerin came over and sank onto the wide arm of the recliner. “Which one is this?”
“Andrea.” Thorin grinned. “My daughter.”
“Heh, you’re in for it now, old man. Just wait until a guy like you shows up to take her out in about fifteen years or so.”
“Bite your tongue.” Thorin shifted Andrea gently against him. “No way in hell I’m letting a horny teenage boy anywhere near my little girl.”
“I’ll bet Leda’s dad said the same thing about her once.”
Thorin sighed softly. “Thanks for everything, man. From the beginning.”
“I take it you don’t mind so much that Plan B failed, huh?”
“I also don’t mind that I couldn’t find a doc willing to give me a vasectomy.”
“You wanted one?”
“Yeah. You remember Talia McDonald?”
“Yeah. You dated her in college. Cute cheerleader.”
“Yeah.” Thorin traced his thumb lightly along the back of Andrea’s head. Her baby hair was so silky soft, he couldn’t resist it. “We had a scare. She thought she was pregnant and the last thing I wanted or needed was a kid. We were lucky, turned out she was only late, but that was enough for me. I didn't want kids then and I didn't ever want to be in that position again, so I decided I wanted to get snipped. But no doctor would do it for me. They all said I was too young and I’d change my mind.”
“They were right.”
“No,” Thorin shook his head, “they weren’t. I hadn’t changed my mind, Frer. Leda and I… we weren’t going to be anything serious. Fuck buddies. That’s all. Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Thorin.”
“We were.” He glanced over at James, still sound asleep. “She had all these rules and I followed them to the letter, even as I was falling in love with her. Then the condom slipped off and I got her pregnant. But, this time, I wasn't so sure I didn't want them. I knew I wanted her. I’d have agreed to anything she wanted to have her.”
He looked over at Frerin now. “She was going to have an abortion, but she changed her mind at the last minute.”
“Even knowing how you felt?”
“I didn't tell her how I felt. I said I’d support her regardless of her decision, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted her to have the baby. But I couldn’t insist on it and she seemed dead set on ending it, so what else was I going to do?
“Then she changed her mind and she was almost afraid to tell me. Thought I’d be furious with her. But it gave me the push—gave us the push—we needed to see if there was something else, something more, between us. I was falling for her and apparently she was falling for me at the same time. It took these two to give us the guts to do something about it.” He pressed a soft kiss into the top of Andrea’s head. “I owe everything to these two gremlins,” he whispered, smiling up at his brother. “I can’t even imagine my life without Leda in it now. And I’m already in love with both of my kids, which is something I never thought I’d say. But I am. And look at me now—husband, father… I guess I’m finally an adult.”
Frerin chuckled. “It took you long enough.”
“Yeah, I know. But I wanted to be sure and now I am. And it’s all because a fucking condom slipped off. A mistake.”
“Sometimes mistakes are good things.” Frerin reached down to touch Andrea’s cheek. She instinctively turned toward him. “They’re both beautiful, by the way.”
“I know. They take after their mother.”
“You beat me to it.” Vinyl rustled as he stood. “I’m on the overnight so I’ll pass through again. You should try to get some sleep now because you won’t be getting much in the next couple of weeks.”
“Right now, I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.” Thorin shook his head. “I keep just counting fingers and toes and marveling over them.”
“Trust me, you want to sleep now.” Frerin moved to the doorway. “And Thorin?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m happy for you, man. You deserve all of this.”
“Thanks, Frer.”
“Sure.”
The door closed without a sound and Thorin sighed softly as Andrea snuggled closer to him. It was funny, how what he thought could be the worst thing in the world turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him. Some men would happily swap their lives for someone else’s, but not Thorin Durin. He liked his life exactly the way it was and wouldn’t change a damn thing, thank you very much.
Another Sparington bar/pub AU with Jack as bartender/owner
Jack Is a bartender/owner, James is a sad/soft boi, and they like flirting with each other. One night, someone hits James (on purpose or not, I’m thinking Beckett...) when Jack goes to get more rum, and the entire bar/pub (*Jack’s friends who see those two are in love*) pounces on the guy.
Maybe Jack takes James home, and Hurt/Comfort and soft cuddles for James, from Jack.
"The Maiden represents innocence and chastity. She is usually prayed to protect a maiden's virtue."
Bars and pubs all across Westeros have introduced the Maiden Shot- a subtle way for female patrons to ask the staff for help if they find themselves in a nasty situation. Posters in the lady's restrooms inform the women.
How inappropriate would it be to ask out the barkeeper after just having helped him get a young woman out of a bad date with Ramsay Bolton?
That's all Arya can think about once her adrenaline has died down and the girl is safely on her way home in an Uber.
Arya had overheard her ordering a Maiden Shot, the discreet code to alert the staff that she needs help.
The handsome bartender Arya had noticed earlier reacted well, telling the girl "it's coming right up", leaving to open the back door for a quick escape and ordering a getaway Uber.
While he was busy, Arya pretended to be an old acquaintance of the girl and under the pretext of catching up over a smoke, lead her outside.
Now, Arya and the bartender lock eyes standing in the alley behind the pub after the girl's gone. "Right, we need drinks," he says and disappears back inside.
w/c 1.3k / fluff
a/n - Thanks @cottondean for the ask on #drunk asks night ;)
Summary: Castiel meets the I.T. guy from his new job at happy hour and oh boy oh boy Castiel is done the moment he walks in. 👉 Read it on Ao3
Castiel had a new job. As new jobs go, his first week had been the usual whirlwind of new things, names, passwords, forms to fill out, getting settled. On Thursday, everyone in the department went for happy hour at the nearest pub. Castiel usually felt out of place at those loud gatherings, but he knew it was important for office relations to attend, so he went.
Castiel remembered back in university they would get pitchers of beer or sangria – and he wouldn’t drink much if any – but they were adults now, which meant everyone was getting their own thing. Castiel had ordered some pineapple drink.
Amidst the already droned-out conversations around him, Castiel lifted his drink for a first sip when he heard “Hey guys! Sorry I’m late! Got an extra seat?” Castiel looked up to see who it was and froze, his glass mid-air. The man had the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen, a jawline that reminded him how hopelessly he was attracted to men. And his neck… fuck. He already wanted to get in there and – “Oh, you’re the new guy?” The question registered with Castiel only because the man’s green eyes, god-given green eyes, were locked on him. “Castiel, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m Dean.”
“Hello, Dean.”
“With I.T. I got your computer ready.”
“OK. Thanks.”
Dean smirked. He turned to the waitress to order.
Castiel didn’t move.
Gabriel – the guy from P.R. – leaned in. “He’s dreamy, uh.”
Castiel blinked. “What?”
Gabriel gently pushed Castiel’s arm down so his drink would rest back on the table. “Breathe. It's gonna be fine.”
“What do you mean ‘it’s gonna be fine’?”
“I happen to know Dean-o is single, very ready to mingle, and likes manly tickles. If you get my drift.”
Eyes wide, Castiel downed half his drink.
Castiel mostly forgot about the other half of his drink watching Dean chat and laugh with his colleagues. Fortunately, being the new guy meant he wasn’t part of most of the conversations yet. Being quiet didn’t seem weird. He watched how Dean listened intently to the person talking to him, the way his lips – hot damn his lips fuck – would just lift a little if the story was amusing, how his brows would knot if it was about some stupid thing the boss did again, and, mostly, mostly, Castiel would almost choke on his saliva the moment Dean took a sip of his beer. The way Dean licked his lips before each sip, gently positioning the bottle… looking at his Adam’s apple bob and following the line of his neck – fuck since when did men have such long, inviting necks? Fuck. And the last sip? Dean tilted his head back, closing his eyes. Castiel felt a nudge on his left.
“Hey. Breathe.”
“What?”
“You’ve been staring at him all night.”
“No I didn’t…”
Gabriel laughed.
Castiel downed the rest of his drink. He caught the waitress’ eye. “I’ll have a beer.”
Castiel tried to follow conversations around him, but mostly he was now concentrated on trying to catch Dean’s attention. He was very concentrated on drinking his beer right – gently, tilting his head back, licking his lips after each sip, even scratching at the label – back in school it meant something like you were single or into sex or some other stupid made-up meaning. He’d look up around the table sometimes and sometimes Dean would be looking towards him and giving him a kind of ‘hey I acknowledge you’ smile.
Soon enough, people needed to go to the bathroom and Dean decided to change seats to sit next to Castiel.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“So how was your first week?”
“Um, a bit fuzzy to be honest.”
“Computer works fine?”
“Yup. So far so good.”
Dean clinked his beer on Castiel’s. “Super.” He drank. Castiel watched.
The waitress came to the table with a large pizza on a stand-up tray.
Dean beamed. “Yes! Pizza!”
The waitress started giving slices around. When Dean got his, he saw what he couldn’t see from afar. “Pineapple? Who the hell called this?”
Balthazar – the guy from Human Resources – raised his hand. “Me. Pineapple on pizza is good.”
Castiel got his slice from a clearly amused waitress as arguments for and against pineapple on pizza arose around the table – fueled even more by those of the colleagues coming back from the bathroom, who decided to order a normal pizza.
Castiel was a few bites in when Dean turned to him. “You like this?”
“Myeah. I like pineapple.”
“Yeah I like pineapple too. But not on anything.”
“It’s sweet and salty. It works.”
“No.” He looked down, glaring at his slice.
Castiel laughed a bit. “So you’re not gonna eat it?”
Dean grunted.
“There’s another pizza coming.”
Dean’s angry face turned into a pout. “But I’m hungry now.”
That pout was so cute Castiel felt his body inside pushing the table away, turning to grab Dean and kiss him breathless. He chewed on his pizza. “You could discard the pineapple.”
“Yeah, and look like a child with the bits on the side of my plate? No. I still got some pride. Or manners.”
“Just give them to me. I don’t mind more pineapple.”
Dean picked all three pieces of pineapple and put them on Castiel’s plate.
Castiel smirked. “Three very offending pieces of pineapple just for me. Thanks.”
Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.
And that’s when it happened. Nothing special, just food sharing. They both looked at each other and in an instant they both knew – they were already both at ease with each other, an ease that was both unexpected yet felt so… normal.
Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes and a soft smile tugged at his lips. The softness of his smile reached his eyes.
Castiel wondered if it was legal for a man to have eyelashes like Dean’s.
The ‘normal’ pizza came, and while they were eating, chatting with colleagues, and drinking, Castiel and Dean felt the very palpable impatience of wanting to be alone, knowing they’re just waiting for the happy hour to end. People finally started leaving, and when Dean came back from the bathroom, Castiel was alone.
“You up for another drink?”
Castiel smiled. “Yeah why not?”
“Be right back.”
“Wait. Let’s move to the booth back there.”
“Cool. Be right back.”
Dean came back with a beer and a tall glass of something yellow.
Castiel took the glass Dean gave him. “What’s that?”
Dean answered as he sat next to Castiel on the bench. “I noticed you were drinking this when I got here. I put two and two together with your love of pineapple and the waitress knew what drink you had. So I got that.”
Castiel smiled. “Thanks.”
“Did I get it right?”
Castiel took a sip, licked his lips, then took a long pull of his drink. He licked his lips again. “It’s super good. Yeah.” He looked up at Dean. Dean had this very serious, yet soft face. “Dean, what…”
Dean leaned in closer, his nose brushing Castiel’s, their lips almost touching.
Castiel breathed sharply in and grabbed the closest thing for balance, hard. It was Dean’s knee.
Looking into Castiel’s eyes, Dean brushed Castiel’s lips and pressed on gently.
Castiel closed his eyes, and grabbed at Dean’s shirt. He pushed forward into Dean, kissing him.
Dean kissed back, tasting Castiel deeper.
They lost track of reality for a few moments, lost in their kiss.
When they moved back, Dean said, catching his breath, “I think I love pineapple more than I thought.”
Castiel chuckled. “You’re gonna be OK with that?”
“Yeah.”
“And on pizza?”
“Never. You have the pineapple pizza, and I have you. How about that?”
“Deal.”
If they hadn’t been smiling so hard they wouldn’t have knocked their teeth as they kissed again.
I’d love to hear from you!
Back to the Masterlist
IT’S TURNED INTO A SERIES OMG YAY (completed - 8 chapters)
The Auld Triangle is an Irish bar in Brooklyn. The Auld Triangle is Steve’s inheritance. The Auld Triangle is the place you want to be part of.
Moodboard for Betheflame’s amazing IMBB story that has an athmosphere that will make you fall in love with traditions, second homes and pining boys all over again.
Story title: The Auld Triangle
Author: betheflame
Artists: Huntress79 & Menatiera
Relationships: (established) Winteriron, (endgame) Stuckony
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Rating: Mature
Tags:Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub; Alternate Universe - No Powers; established bucky/tony; Mutual Pining; Fluff; shameless flirting; Irish Steve Rogers; Irish Sarah Rogers; Polyamory; Polyamory Negotiations
Summary: In which Steve owns a failing Irish bar and Bucky works at that bar and is also married to Tony and the latter two desperately want to bring the former one into their relationship...But this is Steve, Tony, and Bucky we're talking about. So they're idiots about it.
Read on Ao3
Second moodboard (with the boys, yes) is under the cut!
This is under readmore because a: spoilers (not like you didn’t know what you’ve signed up for, right?) and b: it’s in the second chapter of the story, so go figure, I won’t give it to everyone right away either :D Enjoy!
Also please, please leave comments for flame on the story! You know she’s awesome and her story is awesome too, it brought you enjoyment, - honor it with dropping a few kind words!!!
@ironmanbigbang my contribution to this collaboration! :)
Also my fill for the Tony Stark Bingo: A2 - Labyrinth @tonystarkbingo
And a fill for the Bucky Barnes Bingo: K5 - Pining @buckybarnesbingo
The bell over the door jingles as someone enters the pub. She hears Tomáš greet them, so Tatiana does not bother to leave the kitchen herself.
After a few moments of chattering the bell jingles again, and the dining area is blanketed in silence once more. It’s odd, but not completely unusual for the middle of the afternoon.
“Táňa!” Tomáš calls. “You got a delivery.”
That makes her pause. “What do you mean?” she calls back. She resumes mixing the dough she was working on. “I didn’t order anything recently.”
“I mean you have a delivery,” he retorts. Tomáš’s head pops through the doorway. He is doing his best to suppress a wide grin, making her worried about just what had been delivered. “Come see for yourself.”
Tatiana sighs and keeps working until she can set the dough aside for a few moments. She grabs a towel to wipe off her hands and follows Tomáš out of the kitchen.
The towel drops to the floor at the sight of the flower arrangement sitting on the counter.
“Happy Valentine’s day,” Tomáš teases. He elbows her in the side, then resumes cleaning up some of the tables.
Tatiana sighs, though there is no bitterness behind it. She picks up the towel and tosses it onto the counter, then plucks the little card attached to the bouquet. Happy Valentine’s Day. Next year we’ll celebrate together, it reads. It finishes with a simple, Thinking of you.
She rereads the message over a few times and tries not to let her emotions show on her face. When she looks up again, Tomáš turns away and tries to hide his own grin, letting her know her efforts were wasted. Regardless, she tucks the card into her pocket, ensuring its safety besides the picture of her family.
She turns her attention back to the flowers themselves, staring at them for a long moment. Before doing anything else, she pulls out her phone and takes a picture of them, sending it to John to assure him they arrived.
“Can you handle things for a little bit while I run home?” she asks Tomáš, glancing over briefly at him as she texts. “I want to get these out of here before Volk shows up.”
He doesn’t even bother to look up, instead just waving at her. “I’ve got it,” he assures. “Better hurry, though. You know he likes to bother you on holidays.”
“I’ll be quick!” she retorts. With that, she grabs the bouquet and hurries out the door. The distance between them makes her heart ache, but she’s confident that the next year would be better.
