Hey sorry if I’m sending this a second time tumblr crashed on me but do you think you could do something for Bassam 👉👈 theres literally nothing for him and he may be my favorite of his characters after Will Dempsey and Marc Spector
I was thinking something he says he knows this great tea place and he practically drags reader there just for it to be…ok so he’s like well I’ll make up for it with a kiss jokingly and then he actually does
First, I am so, so sorry this has taken so long <3 This idea is just so sweet! Bassam my beloved! I could write a symphony about his hair. (I also need to appologise as it has been a very long time since I saw Body of Lies (it was pre my oscar isaac era).)
Tea
Bassam x gn!Reader • Rating: pg+ pals • Masterlist • ao3 • want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •
Summary: Bassam takes you out for tea.
Warnings: Reader enjoys tea, fluff, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 390
“It’s excellent, I swear, the best tea you’ve ever had.” Bassam grins at you, so pleased that he’d managed to convince you to go there with him. He’s practically vibrating with happiness when two istikana cups are placed in front of you.
The smell of cardamom wafts around you heavily from the dark amber liquid. You stir the tea slowly, mixing in the thick layer of sugar at the bottom of the glass. Steam rises into the air.
Bassam stirs his eagerly for barely two seconds before he pours a sizable amount from the istikana glass into the saucer to cool before drinking it now in a greedy gulp. His throat bobs as he swallows and pauses.
A slight frown crosses his face, a furrow of his brow and a wrinkle of his nose.
You bite back the smile that threatens to surface. There’s something about his expression that reminds you of an outraged kitten.
“What is it?” You ask and he shakes his head, takes another sip from the glass, this time.
He swears quietly.
“What?” You raise your own glass to your lips.
“It’s burnt.” He looks utterly crestfallen.
You take a sip anyway, letting the flavour spread across your tongue. It’s not bad, there’s only a slight bitterness to the tea at the end of the flavour. In fact, you would call it pretty good. The blend is a high quality with the correct amount of cardamom to complement it and not completely overwhelm.
“The water must have been too hot when the leaves were added.” He sighs.
You give him a sympathetic look. “Bassam, it’s hardly burnt, really.” You take another sip to show him. “It’s good.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not as good.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s silly, I know, but I wanted you to taste it like it tasted the other day.” He glances around a little, and then shakes his head. “Must be different staff today.”
“Well, I like it.” You purposefully finish the rest in one mouthful and he gives you one of his sweet smiles.
“I’ll have to make it up to you.” He says with a nod.
You chuckle. “We can go here again, I don’t mind.”
“I was thinking more…” He leans closer to you. “That I could say sorry with a kiss?”
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Summary: As mad as you are and want to stay at your husband, you’re just happy to have him home.
I GUESS I’LL WRITE IT MYSELF ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I ended up cutting a lot settling for finished over perfect so I’ll probably write more
Happy Father’s Day! I didn’t finish my sequel to my Poe Dameron Mother’s Day story but I got this so
AO3 Link
The first thing you did when you saw him was hit him across the face, hard.
You had been putting the dishes away, your daughter soundly in bed, mentally going over next week's grocery list and budget, when you heard a knock at the door.
You dried your hands and stifled a gasp when you checked through the curtains, quickly unlocking and opening the door.
“Hey, habibti—”
Smack.
“Okay. Yeah.” He slowly turned back to you, nodding. “Not undeserved.”
“Where in the world have you been, Bassam! I thought you were dead!”
“I’m sorry—”
“You didn’t say anything!!”
“I know—”
“It's been a month and you haven’t so much as called us once!”
“I was at a safe house—”
“You promised me you wouldn’t—”
“Would you let me explain for a second!” He pleaded only just raising his voice enough to be heard, and you sighed, folding your arms.
“Can I– can I come inside, please?” He looked like a stray cat, his usually smooth wavy hair kept too long in too tight a bun, dull, unwashed and splitting.
And his eyes, his eyes looked like he needed sleep weeks ago.
You reluctantly stepped aside so he could walk in and shut the door behind him.
“Look, I– I lost my job.” His voice broke and you could see the tears shiny in his eyes.
“What… what happened?”
“The CIA thinks I’m a double agent. I can’t tell you the details, I had to sign a huge pile of papers, but we met up with this guy and he knew stuff he shouldn’t have, about where Ferris and I had been. Stuff he should not have known, and the only person he’d had contact with who could’ve known was me.” You could see anger and frustration burning in him, how hard he was trying to keep it down.
“I didn’t!” He bit out, trembling. “I would never fucking do that but the only reason I’m not in a U.S. federal prison right now is because of Ferris and I had to agree to not leave the country. I can’t... I can’t ever get contract work ever again for any agency.”
He breathed hard. You took him by the shoulders and guided him to the couch, rubbing his bicep.
“I am so sorry…” he murmured, wiping his eyes.
“Bassam, no, I’m sorry they treated you that way. To hell with them, damnit.”
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t— I don’t know what I’m gonna do to support you and Hana and I am so, so sorry, fuck…”
“Baba…?” You both turned to the small voice in the hall, her eyes wide and bright in the moonlight.
“Baba!” Dropping her blanket, your three-year-old rushed right up into Bassam’s arms.
“Back!” She cried.
“Yes, Hana, baby, I missed you.” He hugged her tight and you felt your heart melt, seeing Hana’s smile, her hands fisted tight in his shirt, so happy to see him again.
But she had playgroup tomorrow and you had shopping.
“Yes, he’s back.” You put your hand on her back. “But you have to get back to bed now—”
“I’ve got her.” He stood, holding her but not even having to with her koala grip.
“No, she’ll just get excited, want you to read every book in her room. You go, get cleaned up, get some rest, we'll talk more tomorrow.”
Bassam sighed but nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
You gently took your daughter out of your husband’s arms, shushed her whining and let her give her father a big kiss before you gathered up her bedding, tucked her back into bed and stroked her back until she fell back asleep.
You finished up in the kitchen and met Bassam in the master bedroom, his hair damp, changed into something considerably less streetworthy.
He rubbed over his face and thighs as you got into bed next to him, and feeling prompted by your presence, laid back and shifted uncomfortably in the sheets.
You put a hand on his arm, adjusting to his level, cradling his face in your hands. “Love, what’s—”
“What kind of a husband can’t even keep his one kid stable?” He sniffed, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t want to have to move you again!”
“Bassam, calm down. Hana’s sleep.”
He took a deep breath, turned up to you.
“Sorry, habibti.”
“Don’t be. It will be okay. We will get through this.” You pressed a kiss to his eyebrow. “Like always, we will get through together, inshallah.”
You brushed away his tears. “I just wish I had known sooner.”
“I know.”
“Hana wants a tricycle. You tell her she’ll have to settle for her cousin’s old one.”
“I can do that.” He nodded.
“Then it’s all okay, I’ll forgive you. Probably.”
He let out a sigh. “Inshallah?”
You chuckled. “Inshallah, habib. Get some sleep. I’m happy you’re home.”
it's so funny to me that mr. Boring praises Ben's IQ, when Hitler himself adopted the IQ range to propagate that Jews aren't smart as humans, mr. Boring has no idea that IQ was a tool to dehumanise Jews...
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