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callsign-marlie · 2 years

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Prologue. Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI. Part VII. Part VIII. Part IX. Part X. Story Content Warning: Rate M for mature content (minors DNI!!!) including but not limited to: mentions of drug use/smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual scenarios, angst that will make your head spin and more to add a/n: time to introduce the dagger squad :) part 3 is almost complete, i'll probably finish it up tomorrow and will edit it later on monday to post monday night. every 4 days seems to be a good pace moving forward for me, so hopefully we can stick with that! thank you for loving this so much <3 x marlie Table of Contents

Part II: "Another Fine Navy Day!"

The Hard Deck was her job and Misha was thankful everyday for a boss like Penny Benjamin. With her house arrest and community service done, the admiral’s daughter had gone stir crazy sitting in her childhood bedroom surrounded by puffs of pink and old teddies on her bed with absolutely zero stimulation. She needed a big girl job to fund a renovation and The Hard Deck was just the job she was looking for.

Penny was always kind to the aviators that frequented her establishment and was honored to have a veteran of such prestige on her staff. No matter how troubled Misha was, Penny took it upon herself to bring the misunderstood woman under her guidance, making every attempt to mend the tear in her wings. She even went so far as to give Moose a little badge to put on his service animal vest and got a custom made Hard Deck handkerchief for him to wear while Misha was on shift. After all, he was just as much as part of the staff as Misha.

“Now bourbon is surprisingly tricky,” Penny muttered, watching Misha’s unsteady pour. “Too much and the patron will hate you. Too little and the patron will hate you.”

“Is there a way to know what’s enough?” Misha questioned, her gaze flickering to the dribble of Maker’s Mark left on the bar. Crap. “There’s gotta be a universal measurement or something right?”

“Nah, you just have to eyeball it. ‘Comes with time, sweet pea, you’ll figure it out.” Penny flicked her bar towel under the glass to clean the single golden drop and took a sip of the poured liquid. Her lips peeled to an approving smirk, nodding her head. “Better. Now garnish that baby with some bitters, an orange peel and a cherry and you’re all done.”

Misha did as she was told and slid the sweating glass across the table to the other end of the bar, a gentle tink resounding as it tapped into the set of glasses down at the other end. Bullseye. At least her aim wasn’t shit.

“Penny, you think I’m ready for this? I know I’ve only been barbacking and observing, but do you really think I can tend tonight with you?”

“You don’t think you’re ready?” Penny wondered incredulously, an elbow resting on the resined cherry wood. “Honey, you’ve been here for six months now. I think that’s plenty of observation time. You’ve learned everything I have to teach you. Now’s the time to perfect it in practice! Have a little confidence in yourself! Besides, it’s mostly gonna be the aviators and regulars tonight: you know their blood is made of Bud. You’ll probably be pulling drafts most of the night anyway.”

A frown grew across Misha's lips. The aviators. Most likely the newest Top Gun class included. Every eight weeks, a new set of students strode through those doors to let off steam after their grueling flights and endless lectures. God, what Misha would give to be back in that part of her life. To feel the weight of the world flip her stomach upside down, the freedom of nothing but blue, blue skies. The camaraderie, the scent of jet fuel, the sense of family.

She was envious.

Now, she needed to be content with her new home on the ground behind this big, old bar in the middle of Fightertown. So close, yet so far, stuck in her childhood home. Stifled. Trapped in that upstairs bedroom with no way out like Rapunzel in her gilded tower.

But times were finally changing. This mission was an opportunity: she had a chance at freedom. A chance to make a change and turn her whole life around. She just had to let down her hair and wait for prince charming to make the steep climb up her lofty tower. All she had to do was not fuck it up.

Easier said than done.

Penny flipped the bar’s ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’ and it was time to sit and wait. The Padres game was playing muted on the big screen with the Jukebox warming up in a tired whir to life. Misha grabbed a few tokens from behind the bar and slotted them, throwing on anything that sounded nostalgic. The old box hadn’t been updated since ‘92, so modern music was never an option. It simply wouldn’t have fit in the Hard Deck, anyway. This place was generational; an icon. Adding rap and sugarplum pop to the mix would just curdle against the wallpaper and the wooden interior.

Moose was already at post in his bed near the entrance of the swinging bar door keeping his ever steady eye on Misha. No one even knew he was there. Misha crouched down to give him a kiss on the head before it was time to serve the first group of customers.

The crowd kicked up by the time the sun set and the ship was sailing smoothly. Penny and Misha got into the swing of things, passing tabs back and forth and sliding beers across to their assigned patrons. Misha was definitely more comfortable on beer duty with Penny taking over the hard liquor, but found herself pouring a few Old Fashions for some of the regular crowd. Their praise of her pour made her preen.

The door swung open heavily, bouncing off the side of the dented wooden frame at a mess of uniformed pilots making their way down the stairs. They immediately went towards an unoccupied pool table and were joining in for games of darts while a few stragglers moved towards the bar.

Misha’s throat dried as she approached the first khaki-clad group, swinging her towel over her shoulder. “What’cha havin’ fellas?”

A wistful-looking gentleman and a taller, mustachioed guy moved forward with billion watt smiles on both of them. “Hey, can we grab two buds please?” The shorter of the two was rubbing his hands together in excitement.

Misha couldn’t help but return their smiles. “Comin’ right up!”

She popped the tabs on two brews and slid them down the way to the waiting pilots who caught them just as they slowed. The taller one let out an impressed whistle, tapping his glass against his partner’s. “Daaaaamn, that was smooth! You’ve gotta be a pro, but I can’t say I’ve seen you here before. What’s your name, madam bartender? Oh, this is gonna be open by the way.” The pilot dropped his card on the counter and sent her a wink. She sent a coy smile back while she racked it into the file tray. “Thanks, it took a bit of practice, ya know? And it’s Misha. What do they call you?”

“Name’s Payback, and this here is my WSO, Fanboy.” The other man raised his glass to her and sent a over wink himself. They’re gonna need to be reigned in if they keep it up. Misha could just hear the bar bell ringing in the future. “Well, nice to meet you guys. If you need anything, you know where to find me. Tab’s open, have fun out there, just not too much fun.”

Penny was at the end of the bar eying her underling’s interaction with a grin on her face. Misha looked at her boss, gave a ‘what?’ hand gesture, and Penny strode her way over. She slung an arm around her shoulders, nodding her head to the direction of the now overflowing pool table. “Those two graduated two years ago. I’m just wondering what the hell they’re doing back in Fightertown.”

Two years ago?

Misha’s memory brought her back to that manila envelope her father had given her and the 9 faces that were involved. She remembered those two now. Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia and Reuban ‘Payback’ Fitch. So if they were here…

“Ahhhh Penny, my favorite MILF, long time no see babe. Grab me a Shocktop will you?”

The two women turned around to find sparkling white teeth, perfectly groomed blonde hair over gemstone green eyes. His elbows were propped on the top of the bar, fiddling with the Annapolis ring on his finger. His vision bounced between the two as his smile slowly flattened. “Wh- No fucking way.”

Penny observed her bartender to gauge her reaction. Misha wiped her hands on her bar cloth nervously, but slowly looked up to meet his eyes. There he was, her stupid, cocky, egotistical wingman from so long ago.

Misha’s grin broke free. “Hey, partner.”

His disbelief was comforting. A hand ran down the front of his face as he propelled himself to the side entrance of the bar. Misha couldn’t help her feet as she ran past a snoozing Moose and hopped the sliding bar door to leap into his arms. His biceps enveloped her and everything was warm. It smelled of pressed starch and that same, expensive Givenchy cologne he always wore. There was no doubt in her mind. It was him. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. In the flesh.

He pulled away from her for just a moment, taking in every mark and pucker on her face before tucking her back under his chin. His fingers parted through her dark hair and he cupped her face in his hands. “The hair is definitely new, I almost didn’t recognize you! What happened to my Barbie girl?!”

She scrunched her nose at him and put a stiff shove to his chest, laughing the whole way. “Yeah well, some of us have to change a bit, Ken, even you! Goddamn you’re even more ripped than the last time I saw you!”

Hangman struck a pose, pressing his hands together to puff out his pectorals. “Listen, when you’re as good as me, you gotta stay on your A game, Hotshot. You of all people should know that. You had to keep up with me after all, don't you remember?”

Hotshot. No one had called her her callsign for over three years. Not a soul. A spark attempted to light in the pits of her chest, but it was just too weak and snuffed out quickly. A shiver down her spine, replacing the moment of warmth. Misha attempted to bring her head back to the conversation. “Yes, I remember, but I never had to keep up with you. You had to keep up with me. But make that chest any bigger, Jake, they’re gonna start calling you Milkman!”

Jake’s vivacious laugh, nearly doubled him backwards, his arms around his waist. “Now that’s a good one, sweetheart! Definitely suits me more original than Bagman.” He did his best to wipe the faux tears from his eyes, his glare going icy. “After all, milk always turns to cream, and your boy knows how to churn, baby.”

A scowl and a smack on his bicep was all Misha could do to stop him from spying the flush on her face at his words. She was no prude, but Hangman always seemed to trigger her immediate embarrassment. “Can it, Seresin. Some hot babe out there’s gonna curdle your ass one day and you’ll be toast.”

The conversation they shared was light. He was still the coy, nauseating sonofabitch from all those years ago, but something was definitely aged about him. He was like a fine wine: still sweet under the tongue, but a bit more bold as well. Naturally as the crowd picked up, Misha needed to part ways to return to Penny to help her fend off the rascals.

“It’s been nice, Kaz. I’ll see you again soon. That’s a promise.” Jake stuck out his pinky finger. Misha returned her own painted digit, crossed them, and kissed her thumb. Jake returned the sentiment. Nothing was stronger than a pinky promise.

“No doubt. Take it easy, Hangman.”

Misha didn’t see the held breath that left his chest when she turned away.

—

More familiar faces from Misha’s classified folder made their way into the bar throughout the night. Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado was scamming plebeians at darts, Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd was busy observing the billiards table while munching on peanuts (he caught her gaze a few times and looked away shyly every time), and even her TOPGUN crewmate Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. She lost all of her signature composure at the sight of her old friend. “MISHA? Who the hell is this alternative babe?!” “Phee-hee-heeeeniiieeee~” Misha had sung, throwing the shorter woman into her arms. The hug they shared was the most joyful thing she had experienced in her last four years.

Nearly all of the high scorers from Misha’s files were there and ready to rumble. She could smell the testosterone from across the bar as Hangman threw jab after jab, icy glare after icy glare, at each of his new crewmates. ‘So, which one of y’all have the guts to follow me?’

Establishing dominance. Fearmongering. Complete and utter domination. The Vigilantes had taught him well. But this side of Hangman was not something that Misha was familiar with. Her former wingman was never this brash from what she remembered. She didn’t recall the cold steel in his voice, the challenging demeanor, the loose posture of his shoulders when people upturned their noses to him. Maybe the wine she presumed he was aging like was more on the stale side than she had thought.

Hangman, Phoenix and Coyote were the most notable from her data she’s researched so far, but there was one more of the Big 7 that was still missing.

“Well, I’ll be damned. A chicken.” Coyote elbowed Hangman’s side. Blue eyes turned to the entrance, his his hands perched on his pool cue. “Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, in all of his glory; neatly trimmed mustache and that same proud, ridiculous strut he always had, strut into the room, pulling his aviators down the bridge of his nose.

Misha was going to throw up.

She ducked herself behind the bar out of sight to catch her breath. There was a vacuum in the room sucking out all of the oxygen. Moose had padded over to boop her arm with his nose, attempting to crawl under her chest. She gladly opened her lap for him to sit and put her hands through his fur to soothe her trembling fingers. Seeing all of her colleagues together was a trip down memory lane she wasn't quite ready to handle just yet, apparently. She better get over it fast. She had two days to prepare for their first mission briefing.

Penny bent down to her level, putting a hand on her back and rubbing lightly. “You good, sweetie?”

“I need a smoke, I’m taking fifteen” Misha groaned out, staying ducked under the crowd until she was clear out of the stingy bar and in the crisp air. Moose pawed at the sand behind her, keeping his eyes trained on his charge like a shadow.

The fall was bitter on the beach side and the sting of the ocean air stabbed pins into her arms. A familiar buzz stung between her ears. She smacked the side of her head as if she was tuning an old radio. Not now.

Fuck off, she muttered to herself, clicking off her hearing aids for a few moments of silence. The waves moved soundlessly. Everything was still other than the wind in her hair. She could almost imagine the ‘whoosh’ past her ears. Moose was positioned directly next to her, his tongue lolling to the side like usual. Her fingers tickled beneath his vest. Just a girl and her pup. No sounds. No worries.

"We're ok, Moosey," she smiled out, giving her shepherd a kiss. He returned it on the side of her cheek. "Yes, I know. We can do this."

It was peaceful once again, but not for long.

Ten minutes of blissful silence passed when she felt the thud through the cold sand. With a start, she spun to her feet before she had even seen the figure next to her. Misha quickly flicked her aids back on, Moose standing at attention beside her while her eyes and ears readjusted to the light and sounds output by the Hard Deck. A quick ‘blip’ let her know they were activated and the crashing of the waves and a piano with rowdy voices brought her back to reality. The leather jacket-clad figure with the back of his head in the sand couldn’t have gotten here at a more inopportune time.

“... Uncle Pete?”

---

tag list: @alanadetigy @luckyladycreator2

#arsonist's lullaby fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick ff #bradley bradshaw ff #jake seresin ff #hangman ff #rooster ff #rooster x oc #hangman x oc #rooster x reader #hangman x reader

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minigenos · 2 years

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Quick DIY Miniature Kit Guide

If you’re interested in making a miniature scenery, room, or full-on house from a kit here’s a quick compilation of items I’ve used that work well, as well as the best places to look for the kits themselves.

TOOLS LIST

1. Small detail scissors

Here are two examples of what I’m talking about. You will be cutting out a BUNCH of TINY paper items and big scissors won’t cut it at all! Make sure they’re good quality because you’ll be using them a lot. I have very nice stork scissors that have served me well for years.

2. Glue Stick

I’ve used my trusty glue stick far more than liquid glue. If done right it won’t cause paper to wrinkle really badly and in many cases will work better keeping stuff together than its liquid counterpart.

3. Liquid glue

As I said with the glue stick, I don’t use liquid glue for much with these kits. But it still has its uses from time to time.

4. Hot glue

Used very sparingly and mostly in hidden spots, such as keeping an important base together.

5. Super glue

Emergency use only.

6. Cutting board

Get one at the dollar store or somewhere similar. Very useful but you don’t need to buy some stupid expensive one.

7. Metal wire snipper/cutter

A good one is like $7 at a home improvement store or online. 10 outta 10 Extremely Handy To Have. I get a ton of use out of mine.

8. Fine tip tweezers

These things are sold basically everywhere online.

9. Craft blade

It’ll help with cutting paper parts that the scissors have trouble with (mostly pieces with lots of curves and points) and they can help trim and cut whatever needs it.

10. Sandpaper

600, 800, or 1000 is fine. Sizeable pieces are available at home improvement stores (check the automotive section if need be).

BUT WAIT! YOU CAN GET 7-10 ALL IN ONE GO VIA SOME CHEAP-ASS GUNDAM TOOL KITS FROM AMAZON

This shit’s like $10! And you can get a more deluxe one for $13! Cheap AF and it gets the job done.

11. Miscellaneous Items: paper ephemera, interesting beads, stickers, tiny rocks/gemstones, fake flowers with tiny flowers/leaves, miniature found objects, polymer clay slices, etc.

Sometimes you might need to make some substitutions or modifications to whatever you’re working on, or just add your own personal touch to it. Having a little collection of extra bits and bobs will come in really handy for such times. I also keep any unused extras from kits that I finish in case I can use it on a future piece.

WHERE TO BUY KITS + PROS AND CONS

Tip: look around to get the best price. Some places are more expensive than others. Plus with sites like Amazon and its multiple listings for the same product, one listing might be notably cheaper than the others.

1. Amazon

Pros: Big variety. Generally best prices.

Cons: It’s Amazon. Things get sold out and removed from the site often enough for me to include this note.

2. Hobby Lobby

Pros: you can buy in-person if you want. Reasonable prices for most of them.

Cons: You may not like Hobby Lobby. Limited selection and new items don’t get added often.

3. Ebay

Pros: Big variety.

Cons: The price of kits has gone up quite noticeably.

You might be able to find a kit for a good price but in general Amazon tends to have the same kits but for less.

4. Etsy

Pros: Good variety. Might have some unique or rarer ones.

Cons: Tend to be much more expensive.

You might be able to find a hidden gem or two, but you’ll have to wade through a LOT of overpriced kits before you do.

FINAL TIPS

Snow is a pain in the ass. Don’t buy a kit that has snow.

You might not be able to follow the instructions or construct something properly because it’s just too difficult. If that’s the case make it your own through modifications or substitutions.

That’s about it! Hope you found this helpful!

#diy #diy miniature #guide

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garbagefarm · 1 year

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Garbage Farm (#43)

2023-03-31, Garbage Farm session #43, spanning from Summer 15 Year 4 to Summer 27 Year 4

Cast:

me (@mothmute)

E.B. (@salamand3rin)

Kimi (@2kimi2furious)

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Garbage himbo hubbies droning in unison: It’s summer... That means the house is full of flies.

NOT AGAIN

also don’t you guys clean up at all?

Flat possum...

(he’s playing possum)

(E.B. is going to jail)

I crack my knuckles and start completely rearranging the storage system.

It was an over-complicated mess with too many categories, and I’ve learned how to do better

also, the workbench is extremely good and should be the centerpiece

Kimi walks in on the girls fighting (Dwarf and Krobus), ‘til daddy Wizard had to step in

barely make it back to bed after working on fixing the storage all day

Baby!!!

Theophania Garbage!!

E.B. comes over an baptizes her using her watering can, as is tradition

Growing pains learning to use the partially-reorganized storage system mean me and E.B. eat shit staying out too late, Marlon found both of us face down in the mud

(I teleport to the desert by accident, a classic mistake)

the oak trees I planted last time have grown, I can start tapping them for the resin I need to rebuild my kegs

The seduction of Krobus......

me and Kimi happen to meet by chance in the secret woods

Pierre’s Prime Produce now looms over us. it’ll be fine, right?

E.B. got some cherry bombs for me, left them in my fridge

Elliott tells me he couldn’t be happier :’)

(gently probing the skulls....)

should we keep the storage chest full of bones? (hell yes, bone chest)

Kimi finds some garbage cranberry sauce

we resign ourselves to the necessity of building a slime hutch

Pizza is a big boy now!!

strange sound in the night...........

Elliott tells me that Bartholomew called him da-da :)

blueberry harvest is here, that should deal with Pierre’s Prime Produce, right?

nevermind, he sucks! and only wants veggies! and blueberries are fruit!

I find Haley taking photos in the forest, she tries to ride one of Marnie’s cows and falls into the mud (but she takes it in stride)

There’s a weird alien egg thing on the farm!

What’s a little accidental horse theft between friends?

Marlon heard about our slime hutch and came by to get us started

he claims a slime took out his eye. how??

I got a letter from Krobus! It had the recipe for Dark Signs, which I’m now going to use everywhere

E.B. got a catfish from Linus

The Garbage Ducks are stubborn, and refuse to swim

Robin bombs Pizza’s outgrown crib

KIMI FINDS THE PRISMATIC SHARD WE NEED

I get stuck seeing Sam’s band, Goblin Destroyer

Penny calls me “an honorary member of the band”, that’s gotta be one of the most savage burns in Stardew

they weren’t very good, and I went home with my goblin fully intact

Big melon is here!!

aaand the slime hutch is gone. phew

Kimi is torn between cashing the prismatic shard in for the sword, or donating it to complete the museum

Kimi, I’ve already done that, I can just buy you one

E.B. wants one too, if it’s not cost prohibitive

Kimi wants one only if it is

Pizza has insomnia :(

new cow is born, Snurtie!

Museum is complete!! My head fills with thoughts of Garbage...

Kimi is Wild Possum’s favorite

I killed a frost jelly, and Marlon is very pleased

running into Kimi in the storage shed, both out too late to make it back, RIP

Time for some exit explosions

“gptte,”

E.B. was knocked unconscious.....

NEXT TIME:

oops, we forgot to take a picture with the big melon!

finish Pierre’s Prime Produce with some of the radishes, we’re bound to get enough, right?

Moonlight Jellies

Planting for fall!!

buncha cranbs, buncha punkins,

probably gonna plant a buncha other stuff too

Deluxe the ducks’ coop?

maybe if we add more ducks, they’ll be more likely to swim

I wanna learn about burglary......

I might get into some coffee-making around my house......

#stardew valley #garbage farm

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badassxbirdy · 2 years

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August Activity Update (Pinned Post)

It’s a new month, which means it’s time once again for the monthly activity update! If you’re new here: these monthly posts help me to keep track of what the frick I’ve been doing, particularly when tumblr breaks or the brainfog strikes. I missed last month, so this update includes things posted or drafted in June and July. Everything else an be found over on my thread tracker (here).

The full activity update (along with OOC house keeping) is below the cut. Bold text = links.

If you want to see all IC interactions without the other stuff, click here. If you’d like to start something new, click here. You can also add Ty on Wire for IC texting.

Now onto the update!

OOC Housekeeping:

Thank you for the support regarding my terrible PIP assessment. You guys are lovely. ❤️

The theme has been updated at long last! A couple of minor aesthetic things need fixing, but I’m glad to have it finally (mostly) done.

There are new opened starters here.

I’ve changed up the tagging system for images of Ty’s friends and contacts. Rather than just being tagged with the name of the character, they are now tagged with “contact: name or nickname”.

As usual, I’m off to stay with family for a bit. I’ll be leaving on the 8th, but should still be able to trim threads with my mobile workaround.

I still have a couple of headcanon memes in the inbox/drafts that I’m hoarding to write while I travel lol. Thank you for sending them! ❤️

Threads, replies, and other IC interactions:

Edit: it’s been suggested that I put these in alphabetical order rather than date order to make things easier to find. So let’s give it a try! In alphabetical order by username, let me know if you prefer this way!

Being a little shit at the bar. (drafted) - @blutschatten

Car trouble (link) - @demcnsinmymind

At the motel (link) - @demcnsinmymind

Lance and Ty just being adorable little shits. ❤️ (link) - @demcnsinmymind

Damon shields Ty (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Bloody Mary (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Interrogation time! (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Ty meets Hook (link) - @hvbris

Arriving at the motel with FBI!Fish (link) - @imprvdente

Acrobatic injuries (finished! more mischief with these two definitely needed soon. ❤️) - @indyflanery

Tyler hates Alec’s plans. 😂 (link) - @lcbcshcart

Ty summons Lilith (link) - @magaprima

Accidental interrogation (link) - @medicatedmedium

Ty shows Mel a favourite place. 🥹 (link)- @nightiingaled

Proteus is bby and Ty is 😡 (link) - @nightiingaled

No such thing as too much sauce! (link) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

“Does it still hurt?” (link) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

“Get down!” (link) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

Actual children. 😂 (link) - @normallyxstranger (Carla)

“I was just trying to help” (link) - @normallyxstranger (Casey)

“You shouldn’t be here.” (link) - @razorfst

Ty meets Kiara! (link) - @thatevester

Ty really said 🥺 (link) - @tobeblamed

“This isn’t what it looks like.” (link) - @wraith-of-christmas-future

Headcanon, dash games, crack, and assorted silliness:

The beach episode! (link)

Tyler + platonic love (link)

How does Tyler respond to silence? - botanical headcanon meme (link)

What’s your most unpopular opinion? (link)

Do you want your powers back? (link + a related hc here)

Height comparison: Ty and Lance (link)

“Should have dug the hole deeper.” “THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY? 😡” (link)

Ty wants someone to take Damon’s mic away. (link)

Bad joke meme (link and link)

Warning label meme - deadly puppydog eyes 😂 (link)

Dash game - what type of live interest would you be in a dating sim? (link)

#activity update #pinned post

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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Twenty-Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: not an ending, but a middle.

this chapter was ridiculously difficult to write and edit. it tops out at 7.5k words so… beware

***

Cassian and Nesta make full use of the summer house without his friends there, making love on every other surface just because they’re all alone and they can. Nesta shows a soft spot in particular for having sex in Cassian’s old bed, proving to him that she can be just as sentimental as he is.

Which is how they end up sprawled naked on the living room floor early the next morning, fast asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but a throw blanket to cover them.

Cassian is woken up by the sound of the front door being flung open, followed promptly by a feminine yelp as the intruder catches sight of the tangled couple in the living room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cassian whips his head up to find who interrupted his sleep, and his nostrils flare in shock when he sees Mor at the entryway. He carefully but swiftly moves his arm out from under Nesta’s head and replaces it with a nearby pillow before starting to stand up. “What the hell are you doing—”

“Fuck no, I can see your ass—No, now I can see your dick!” Mor squeals in disgust, promptly spinning around and clapping her hands over her eyes like she can burn the image out of her mind.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cassian whisper-hisses at her, throwing a worried glance at Nesta’s still sleeping form. She doesn’t shift an inch.

Scooping up his flannel sleep pants from the floor, Cassian pulls them on while Mor makes gagging noises with her back to him.

Spying a pair of underwear flung over the arm of a chair, she bends to pick them up with two pinched fingers and turns to face Cassian, who’s now appropriately covered. Heavy judgment wrinkles her nose as she casts a glance to the owner of the panties, then to Cassian. “Granny panties, Cass? Is this what your sex life has been reduced to?”

“Don’t touch Nesta’s underwear.” He stalks over to Mor and snatches them out of her hand, before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her off into the kitchen.

She shakes him off once they’re out of earshot from Nesta and takes a seat across from him at the wooden breakfast table. She brushes her golden hair over a shoulder and smirks. “Someone’s been having fun on their own while waiting for the rest of the party to arrive.”

“What are you doing here?” Cassian repeats.

Mor waves a languid hand dismissively. “I ended up taking a commercial flight. I wasn’t a fan of being stuck on the same private plane as Az and Elain.”

Cassian blows out a tight breath, wishing he’d at least gotten some warning before his plans for the day were ruined. Plans that included taking Nesta in the lake before breakfast.

“But seriously,” Mor glances over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, “what’s up with the prude panties? I thought you would’ve thawed that ice pussy by n…” She trails off at the look on Cassian’s face, and a glimpse of fear crosses her own face. She forces a nervous laugh and twists her fingers together. “I suddenly remember making a promise a while ago,” she murmurs while staring down at the table.

“It’s a good thing you remember,” Cassian says stoically, “because I was just about to bring it up.”

“I know, I know, no criticizing your girlfriend.” Mor rolls her eyes.

“It’s about a lot more than that,” he grits. “It’s about how you’re only wary of her because you don’t trust me to choose who I give my love to. It’s about how you don’t respect my decision enough to maintain boundaries when you talk about Nesta.”

For once, Mor looks put off her game. “I never meant it like that,” she tries to say.

“That’s what it looks like,” Cassian retorts. “It looks like you’re judging someone you have no right to judge, like you’re trying to protect me from an imaginary threat.”

Mor coughs aloud. “Do I really need a scolding for a girl I see maybe twice a year? I haven’t even thought about Nesta since the New Year’s party.”

“It’s not a scolding,” Cassian says firmly. “It’s an order to be on your best behavior for the duration of this vacation, because the sisters and I went through a lot to get Nesta to come here. There will be no catfights, or backtalk, or rude looks and snide tones until we’ve returned home. The same applies for everyone else once they get here.”

“Or, how about this? I’ll stop making ice pussy jokes if you stop being this…” Mor waves a hand up and down at Cassian’s shirtless figure with a grimace, “unrecognizable creature with the tension of a forty year old single dad.”

Is Cassian tense? Of course he’s fucking tense. The last time he convinced Nesta to go to a family event with him was Christmas Eve, and he’s never letting that mistake be repeated ever again. His glare confirms it.

“Morrigan,” he says lowly with a hint of warning.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But for the record, I’ve never said anything rude to your girlfriend’s face, and I never plan to.”

Cassian crosses his brown arms across his chest. “No, you’ve only done it to my face.”

Guilt crosses Mor’s features for the quickest second. “Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “In that case, I’ll pull back from now on.”

He releases a terse breath. “Good.” Now to hammer the message into anyone else who might threaten the quiet solitude he and Nesta have found here.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she adds somewhat apologetically. “You know I just want the best for you.”

“And you know I already know what’s best for me.”

Mor dips her head in reluctant acknowledgment. “Can we go back to normal, then? I don’t like feeling like your adversary.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief, and his crossed arms fall away. “Of course, Mor.”

Like flipping a switch, Mor claps her hands together. “Good. I left my luggage in the rental car and it’s super heavy; I brought enough clothes for three outfit changes a day. Why don’t you put those big strong muscles to work while I get settled into my room?”

Before Cassian can object, she’s out of her seat and flouncing out of the kitchen. From the entry hall, Cassian can hear Mor say perkily, “Good morning, Nesta! Love the undies.”

Cassian drops his head onto the table with a thud, lifts it, then drops it again. Mor is going to be a work in progress.

“You okay?” A voice makes Cassian look up from the wooden table. Nesta stands in the kitchen entryway wearing nothing but Cassian’s shirt, and her hair is a rumpled mess from sleep. Her hands twisting into the hem of his tee tells him she couldn’t be less excited about Mor’s early arrival, though the rest of her doesn’t show it.

Exhausted apprehensiveness drops in Cassian’s gut. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks warily.

“Not much. I just woke up a minute ago and heard your voices.” She comes over to him and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Why, were you guys arguing?”

Cassian slings his arm around Nesta’s waist, basking in her warmth. “Not exactly.”

She frowns. “Was it about me?”

“It was about Mor.”

She nudges him. “Will you tell me about it?”

“No,” he quips, yanking her down onto his lap. He pecks a kiss onto her lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Nesta hums to herself. “So our morning plans are out the window?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Yup.”

“Does Mor actually like my undies?”

“Nope.”

***

The rest of Cassian’s friends and Nesta’s family arrive by late afternoon, piling out of a dark SUV in a frenzy of noise and colors. Nesta forgot how… many of them there were.

She lets Cassian and Mor handle the greetings, choosing to observe everyone from her spot near the stairs.

Azriel is the first to catch her eyes. He looks the same as ever, dressed head to toe in black even in the middle of a heat wave. Elain is an overdressed peacock in comparison to him, not that anyone would be comparing them, because they carefully stand at opposite ends of the entry hall.

He sends a simple nod Nesta’s way, which makes her narrow her eyes. Does he think he can act too cool for her just because they haven’t talked in a while? Idiot.

Feyre notices Nesta next and waves her arms wildly. “Get over here!”

Nesta reluctantly pulls away from the banister and nears their group, offering only a half smile to everyone there before hiding behind her sisters. Cassian cuts a glance her way in solidarity, and it feels like a pillar of reinforcement against her wavering self. She scrambles around for a solid ten seconds for something to say, either to her sisters or to the whole group, and finally comes up with, “What are we having for dinner?”

“That’s still hours away,” Rhysand assures. “Everyone scram and put your shit up first.”

“The girl has a point,” Amren grumbles. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Rhys, can we have an early dinner?” Mor whines.

And just like that, Nesta has melted into the background again. Which might be for the best, considering how loud it is right now.

Feeling overwhelmed, Nesta checks on Feyre and Elain to make sure they’re not paying attention to her, and then meets Cassian’s gaze through all the luggage and bodies. Tilting her head toward the back door to let him know that she’s leaving, she silently slips down the hall and out of the house.

Outside in the gardens, the light breeze soothes her heightened senses. It’s hot as shit at this hour, but she’ll take it for the peace and quiet.

Only a few minutes into her getaway, however, Nesta hears the porch door open behind her. Her shoulders stiffen when she hears footsteps that don’t belong to Cassian. There goes her peace and quiet.

Nesta is surprised to find Amren slinking up to her side, her small head appearing at Nesta’s shoulder.

Discomfort crawls through Nesta’s bones at the woman’s unexpected presence. It’s a subtle sense of wrongness, like being in the proximity of a predator but not having enough information to guess how they’ll attack.

“Hiding out from Rhysie’s big bad inner circle?” Amren taunts.

Nesta stiffens. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown in her face.

“I suppose I can’t blame you,” she goes on. “We can be a scary group.”

“I’m not scared of anybody,” Nesta says, keeping her focus glued to the trees’ cherry blossoms. “I just wanted fresh air.”

“And I’ve wanted to find out what Cassian sees in you ever since he gave me that verbal lashing about being nice to his new girlfriend.” Amren turns to face Nesta fully, closing in. “What kind of pussy grip can a woman have to make Cassian of all men heel?” She hisses in a thoughtful breath through her teeth.

Nesta only shrugs, but her interest is piqued at the idea of Cassian warning Amren away from her. She definitely doesn’t need the protection, and once would have found it offensive, but… she likes the idea of someone standing up for her, being unapologetically on her side even if they have no good reason to do it. The only other times she can remember feeling defended were brief, subtle childhood instances with Feyre and Elain, and that was only because blood instinctively defends blood. It’s different to feel chosen. It makes her chest crack.

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Amren throws out, “Are you on the spectrum or what?”

Nesta again doesn’t reply.

“No one mentioned it, but I assumed as soon as I saw you.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions,” Nesta says, her voice cool as a running river.

Amren barks a laugh that sounds like a whip lashing. “I like you, girl.”

Nesta finally meets Amren’s silver gaze and states, “I don’t like you.” Her tone is blunt, to the point—but if she has to participate in this twisted version of small talk, then she should at least get to be honest.

Amren laughs aloud again, as if that genuinely amuses her. Nesta doesn’t know how amused Amren will be when she realizes that Nesta is serious.

She shrugs to herself, turning back to face the garden. It isn’t her problem, she decides.

***

“Even for you, this is overprotective.” Rhys’s voice comes from behind Cassian, who stands at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen that peers out onto the gardens. He’s been watching Amren converse with Nesta for the last seven minutes—or rather, he’s been watching Nesta, inspecting her body language to gauge her discomfort.

It was a struggle not to hold his arm across the back door and block Amren from following after Nesta earlier. Amren had the look of a cat going out to play with a new toy, and Cassian had nearly snarled at her for it until she gave him that expression: the raised brow and sneer that said Really, Cassian? Pathetic.

It made him think of how Nesta would feel if she knew he was trying to physically keep people away from her, and he managed to have enough shame to move aside and let Amren pass with only a warning look.

So far though, it looks like Nesta is handling herself just fine. He should’ve known better than to underestimate her.

When Rhys doesn’t get a response, he comes up to stand at Cassian’s side and get a look through the glass door. “I never thought you’d be applying your passion for security to your damn girlfriend.” Rhys lets out a low whistle.

Without taking his eyes off Nesta and Amren, Cassian tells Rhys, “Protecting her is protecting myself. When she gets hurt, I feel it twofold.” And he really doesn’t want to be hurt on this vacation. Nesta already thinks he’s a crybaby as it is.

Rhys is silent for a long minute, as if he can’t deny that he would feel the same way for his own girlfriend. Eventually he says, “I might finally understand what’s going on in your brain whenever you’re around her.”

Cassian only nods.

Rhysand claps his hand down suddenly on Cassian’s shoulder, breaking the somberness of his confession. “Call them in to help make dinner,” Rhys orders. “I want all hands on deck tonight.”

Cassian looks at his brother with narrowed eyes. “And what will you be doing to help?”

“I’ll be watching the game on the nice TV that I paid for, in the beautiful new living room I also paid for.”

“Bastard.”

***

Nesta and Azriel help prepare dinner in silence. Their quiet acknowledgment of each other is better than any words could be, but it’s all shattered when Mor dumps a serving platter on the counter right next to Azriel.

“Ooh, ricotta-stuffed mushrooms!” She grabs a handful and starts arranging them onto her platter. “Az, how was your mystery weekend away? I haven’t seen you since you got back.”

Azriel shares an unreadable glance with Nesta before sliding his chicken parmesan dish toward her and saying loudly, “Wow, is that football?” He promptly turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

Nesta glares after him in disbelief, but Azriel can’t hear her wordless cries for help because he’s already in the living room.

Left alone at the kitchen counter with Morrigan, Nesta keeps wiping at the wine glasses that have been gathering dust in the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Mor’s mouth is tightened into a displeased line.

Not that Nesta isn’t grateful for it, but Mor usually isn’t one to keep her mouth shut. She wonders if something is wrong that she doesn’t know about. “You look constipated,” Nesta tells Mor under her breath. “Anything you want to get out?”

Mor only scoffs in indignation. Then she shakes her head and mutters to herself, “I promised not to say anything.”

Now Nesta is really intrigued. “Promised who?” she prods. “Cassian?”

“Like you don’t know about it.” Mor rolls her dark eyes.

Nesta doesn’t know, though after Amren’s comment earlier she might have a hint. “I would prefer you be honest with me rather than follow Cassian’s orders.”

“That’s funny, so do I.” Mor plucks up a stuffed mushroom and shoves it into her mouth.

Nesta thinks back to how she woke up to Cassian and Mor’s voices lowered in seriousness. After what Nesta overheard on New Year’s Eve, it’s no secret that Morrigan doesn’t care for her, but she suddenly has the urge to have it said to her face. “Well, if you want to stop holding back with me, I won’t tell.”

Morrigan sets down her mushroom platter with a thump, turning to face Nesta like she’s done her a personal wrong. “You know what I know about you, Nesta?” Mor says. “I know that Cassian has changed since he’s gotten with you. I know that he’s more serious whenever he’s around you. I know that you don’t love him as much as he loves you. How can Cassian expect me to trust someone that doesn’t want to be around his own family? How can he expect me to trust you with his heart? Not that I’m allowed to be saying any of this, because I’m supposed to be hiding my feelings about you to stop my best friend from hating me.”

It’s crazy how a year ago those words would have been enough to make Nesta retreat to her room and never come out again. Each statement pricks like a shard of glass against her skin, though none of them are accurate or true.

And yet Nesta finds herself hurting more for Cassian than for herself. She feels her familiar old mask go up around her face and harden there.

“It sounds like your problem is more with Cassian than it is with me,” Nesta says stoically. “Because I won’t be going through any trials to prove myself. I have nothing to prove. I don’t care if you like me or not, if you’re nice to my face or cruel behind my back—but it’s rude to shit over your friend’s life choices like that. He’ll stop trusting you if you keep it up, and it won’t be my fault when it happens,” Nesta finishes. She wordlessly gathers the wine glasses in her hands and abandons a silent Morrigan to go set the table.

Nesta knows the dynamic at dinner is off with her presence there.

For once, Cassian’s priorities lie somewhere other than laughing with his friends. He keeps a protective hand on Nesta’s thigh from the moment they take their seats, and he only removes it when he’s filling her plate with food.

With memories of Christmas dinner hanging over all of them, Cassian looks like a bodyguard prepared for attack— except he’s contributing to a good half of the tension at the table.

“How was the drive here?” Feyre pokes at the two of them in an attempt to break the ice. Nesta glances to Cassian for his response, but his attention is taken by the platter of bread rolls.

Sighing internally, Nesta answers, “Better than yours, that’s for sure.”

Everyone laughs hesitantly. A steaming bread roll then appears on Nesta’s plate, golden and fluffy with a buttery aroma; one glance at the rest of the bread tells her it was the biggest roll in the pile.

Nesta drops her walls enough to give Cassian a small smile and an arm rub of appreciation, and then she reaches straight for the bottle of wine.

She loves Cassian and hates this dinner too much to allow this to go on.

After filling Cassian’s empty glass high with Merlot, Nesta presses it into his free hand with a subtle kiss on his cheek. “Relax a little,” she murmurs into his ear.

It takes ten minutes and two full glasses for her plan to take effect, but relax Cassian does. Like oil slipping through rusted gears, the tension in the room slowly unwinds and natural conversation starts to flow.

“You guys will not believe what I had to walk in on this morning,” Mor announces at one point during the meal.

“Yeah, yeah, Cassian’s ass and dick, we’ve already heard,” Amren says.

Cassian’s glare at Mor is more lighthearted than life-threatening. “This is why I can’t talk to you anymore,” he states, pointing a finger at her. Nesta is so glad for the lack of tension in his shoulders that she doesn’t even care if everyone basically knows about her having sex in the living room.

With Cassian acting more like his normal self, the pressure to make useless small talk is no longer on her. Nesta is content to watch everybody share stories and laughter, but for once she doesn’t feel like an audience member on the outside looking in. Maybe it’s because no matter how much Cassian drinks, his hand stays steady on her leg the whole night, keeping her rooted there with everybody else. He doesn’t let her fade into the background for a second.

“What’s that on your wrist, Az?” Mor’s voice rings from one head of the table. Azriel snatches his hand back in a flash before Mor can reach for it. From his other side, Nesta grabs it smoothly out of the air to take a look at the cause of Mor’s question.

She raises her brow at the sight of three colorful bracelets lining Azriel’s right wrist.

Az tries to pull his hand away, but Nesta’s hold is tight. Even if the signature of the maker wasn’t stamped onto one of the childish bracelets, she would know who had made them with one glance.

“What does it say?” Mor asks her.

“Nothing. Just some beads.” Nesta pulls Azriel’s dark sleeve over the beads that spell out GWYN’S BITCH and gives his arm a little pat. She sincerely hopes Elain is thoroughly over Azriel by now.

“Was that Rainbow Loom I saw? Since when did you wear kiddy bracelets?” Mor snorts at Az.

Nesta’s attention is pulled away from their conversation by a heavy head falling onto her shoulder. “Nestaaa,” Cassian slurs, slumping against her side.

Blushing at the attention he’s drawing to her, Nesta tries to shove a drunk Cassian back upright. “I think we need to get you to bed.”

“Oh really? Promise you’ll tuck me in?” He tries to wink at her, but it comes off as a strained blink.

He looks ridiculous. It isn’t helping the blush on her cheeks, though.

“I promise.” Nesta shoves her finished plate aside and grabs Cassian by the bicep, standing up and attempting to drag him with her. “Come on, I’ll take you right now.”

Mor is quick to get to her feet. “We can take him,” she offers eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Azriel mutters. Nesta hears a hard stomp, and then Az is coughing, jumping out of his seat after Mor. “Yeah, we’ll take him,” he says.

Nesta reluctantly lets Cassian slip out of her grasp as Morrigan and Azriel take one of his arms from either side.

“Wait, but I want Nesta to tuck me in!” Cassian twists around as he’s dragged away, drunkenly finding Nesta’s gaze. He’s pouting.

Affection battles with secondhand embarrassment and wins. “I’ll be right there,” she promises with a wave. As soon as Mor and Azriel accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish. Her voice flattens into a cold warning when she adds after them, “Be careful with him.”

Daring a quick glance back at the table, Nesta wants to cringe when she meets everyone else’s eyes. Rhysand looks highly amused. Feyre looks disturbed, and Elain looks glum with envy, the love-obsessed bitch. Amren is Amren.

After dinner is over, dishes duty is handed over to Rhysand and Amren goes off to bed complaining about beauty sleep, which leaves Nesta alone with her sisters in the foyer.

She doesn’t quite know how, but she ends up forgetting her promise to Cassian and following the girls out to the front porch for some fresh air instead. The sun has long since set, taking some of the summer heat with it, but the air is still stuffy as the three of them settle down onto hand-painted wooden chairs. Lanterns on the porch are lit up to keep the darkness away, and the lake before them gleams with the reflection of the rising moon.

Feyre is the first to speak, her voice hesitant. “It’s hot out tonight, isn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this,” Elain announces. She stands abruptly from her chair and goes back inside.

Nesta and Feyre stare wide-eyed after the swinging front door, but a minute later Elain returns holding a decanter and three crystal glasses. She sets the glasses down on a side table and starts pouring. “It’s not really Tennessee without a strong whiskey,” she says to no one. “And I’m way too sober right now to handle this vacation.” The third glass gets an extra finger of liquor, and it ends up in Elain’s hand. She passes the other two to Nesta and Feyre before settling back into her seat.

Nesta grimaces at the drink in her hand without even tasting it. She hates most alcohol, but strong alcohol especially. For the sake of her sisters, however, she throws back half the glass without thinking.

Liquid fire scalds her tongue and throat, and she groans aloud. Instant regret.

Elain has no such issues downing her liquor. “Did you know,” she says after swallowing a gulp of whiskey like it’s apple juice, “that our old place is just a mile and a half that way?” She waves with her glass toward the back gardens.

“Is it really that close?” A frown wrinkles Feyre’s brow, like the memory of their old home might taint the perfect life she has now.

“Yes,” Nesta confirms. She doesn’t offer anything else.

Feyre shudders despite the temperature. “I hate even thinking about it. It’s so depressing. Reminds me of Papa.”

Which is also depressing, Nesta thinks to herself.

“It wasn’t depressing for me,” Elain says, chin tilted up in defiance.

That doesn’t surprise Nesta. Even in the depths of their father’s patheticness, he was Elain’s favorite man on earth.

Nesta used to wonder how her papa would have reacted if Elain was the one with crippling endometriosis pain every month instead of her. Would he have ignored her cries like he ignored Nesta’s, or would he have come running to her aid?

It’s not a question that’s worth Nesta’s time and energy, though. Not when the man himself has long been six feet under. Instead she pokes at Elain, “Then why did you hide your background from every guy you met like you were ashamed of it?”

“I was ashamed,” Elain says primly, “but that doesn’t mean I hated all of it. We didn’t all grow up with a ten foot stick up our ass; at least I could appreciate what we had without taking my attitude out on everybody else.”

The whiskey must be working quickly, because Nesta can’t hold back an unseemly snort. “There you go again,” she drawls in a cutting tone, pointing an accusing finger with the hand that holds her glass at Elain. “Dishing out shit when you can’t take it back. At least not without crying.”

Feyre, who was trying to hide her cringe with the rim of her drink, now perks up with eagerness. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” she exclaims. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Elain’s lips twist into an indignant sneer. “What’s this dynamic now, why’s everyone ganging up on me?”

Nesta mutters, “Because you need to hear it every now and then.” Turning to Feyre, she adds, “God, she can be fucking annoying.”

“Oh, like you’re everyone’s favorite person to be around?” Elain scoffs.

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. That’s called a con artist, Elain. You’re a con artist.”

There’s stunned silence for a tense moment—and it’s broken by full laughter. Elain is chuckling sweetly as she says, “Well, I suppose it’s okay if only you two are the ones who notice it. It can be our little secret.” She presses a finger to her pink lips.

Feyre giggles along at that too, but Nesta remains quiet. Too sober for the current mood, perhaps. “Do you think someone will notice at one point?” she asks Elain. “That the smiles and Southern charm and—the kindness...” She doesn’t know how to feel about that word in relation to Elain. “Do you think someone will notice that that’s not all there is to you?”

Elain’s grinning face freezes quicker than an actress’s. “No one will know,” she answers smoothly, “because I’m not going to be with anyone else for a while.”

At the confused silence filled only by the chirp of cicadas, Elain supplements, “I’m trying out the single life.”

Nesta meets Feyre’s eyes, and it only catalyzes the sound quelling up in her throat. At the same moment, the two sisters burst into cackling laughter. Well, Feyre cackles. Nesta makes a noise that imitates a dying whale.

“I’m serious,” Elain insists, glaring at them. “If Nesta could spend all those years living like a widowed hag, why can’t I? I don’t need men to live.”

Nesta’s laughter sours at the insult, and she turns to Elain with seriousness in her tone. “No one needs anyone else, Elain—but you treat loneliness like a leper from the Middle Ages. Are you even happy for me and Cassian beneath all that jealousy?”

Elain shifts uncomfortably in her chair and mutters, “Of course I’m happy for you two.” And then she adds in a much quieter voice, “Deep, deep down.”

“Is that what was wrong with you on New Year’s?” Feyre asks gently. “You were jealous?”

Nesta raises a brow; she didn’t know this.

“I wasn’t exactly having fun watching you two suck face right after getting dumped by Azriel,” Elain tells Nesta. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I just…I’m not used to being the lonely one.” She huffs out a sigh and reaches for the decanter again. “If anyone should be in a happy and healthy relationship right now, it should be me.”

Feyre turns to Nesta and whispers too loudly, “You’re right, she is fucking annoying.”

“Don’t get too friendly; so are you.”

Feyre leans away from Nesta in affront. “I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You don’t need to do anything for Nesta to think she’s better than us,” Elain chimes in.

The three of them break out into bickering, which soon devolves into hysterical laughter, which then morphs into a comfortable silence—which doesn’t last long until they’re bickering again. They spend the rest of the night going in small circles like that over their whiskey, occasionally taking breaks to talk of more serious things: Elain’s flower shop is finally starting to pick up business, but expenses are still too high. Nesta is worried about Cassian being all alone in Italy by himself, but she’ll never show it to him. Feyre’s work at the children’s art studio is making her seriously consider having kids (“Don’t you dare, you’re way too young,” Nesta threatens).

Each of them reveals that they miss at least one of their shitty parents these days.

Maybe it’s because they’re under the same night sky that they spent their childhoods under, but if Nesta closes her eyes, it’s like she’s seventeen again, letting her sisters stay up and talk her ear off even though it’s a weeknight.

***

The lack of Nesta in Cassian’s bed must stop him from succumbing to deep sleep, because his nap is hazy and doesn’t last more than a half hour. When he blinks awake, the fog of wine from earlier has mostly cleared away and the lamps in his room are lit. Mor sits on the bay window seat and Azriel lounges on a chair nearby, both of them murmuring quietly to each other.

Noticing Cassian’s movement, Az turns away from Mor and drawls, “That was quick.”

Groaning, Cassian rubs at his eyes and sits up straight. His shirt and jeans are flung on the floor, and he can only assume he took them off himself before collapsing into bed.

Holding the thin blanket to his chest, he demands, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, now he has modesty,” Mor grumbles.

Cassian grabs his wrinkled shirt from the floor and shrugs it on before repeating his question. “What are you doing here, and where’s Nesta?”

“Don’t know,” Az shrugs from his chair. “But Mor wanted us to talk alone, so Nesta probably doesn’t need to be here.”

Growing wary, Cassian straightens up against the headboard. “Talk about what?”

Mor’s words take him by surprise. “I wanted to apologize.” She straightens up in her seat and throws a cautious glance at Azriel. “And I wanted Az with me for moral support.”

Az rolls his eyes to himself, likely considering the task beneath him.

“I didn’t take your words that seriously this morning,” Mor goes on, “but I’m taking them seriously now. Someone made me realize that I’ve been blaming your—girlfriend... for our relationship changing when I’m the one who’s been pushing you away the whole time. While you were falling in love, I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t trust you to find love without my input, and I didn’t respect you when you did.” Tears line her dark eyes, taking Cassian aback. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly. “Please don’t hate me.”

A headache takes root in Cassian’s temples, and he has to shut his eyes against the dull thudding. “I could never hate you, Mor,” he says past the lump in his throat. That was never the problem, though her words have eased some of the pent up frustration in his chest.

Cassian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not just you. It’s every single one of us. We’ve known each other so long, we’re so fucking entangled in each other, that even when I’m living by myself up in my cabin I feel like I can’t get away from it.” He stares out the window like he might find some relief there. “That’s why I’m going overseas. To get some space from all of this.” He waves between the three of them and laughs bitterly. “We created this incestuous little circle and now we don’t know how to care about anyone outside of it.”

He catches Az frowning, fingers toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist that Cassian spied earlier.

Mor sniffs away a lingering tear. “What about Nesta, then? Where does she factor in?”

Cassian’s mouth turns down in a distasteful frown. He still doesn’t like that he has to leave without her, but the fact that he doesn’t like it is only more proof that he needs to do it. “I can’t let Nesta be a part of me,” he answers. “I need to be all of me.”

Only once he learns how to do that can he be the friend and lover that the people in his life deserve.

***

Nesta wakes up the next dawn not on a hard chair, but in a soft bed. The smell of Cassian lingers on the sheets wrapped around her, and she blinks blearily as she tries to remember the events of last night.

Feyre fell asleep first. Elain and Nesta were just going to close their eyes for a moment and take a brief rest as well, but the next thing Nesta knew Cassian was helping her take out her contacts and laying her head against a pillow. Now the sun is dawning and she has a pounding headache. She needs at least another ten hours of sleep before she’ll be fit to face the world again.

She looks around for her phone to check the time and spots it plugged into the charger on the bedside table. Despite feeling like she’s been rammed with the flu, the tiniest smile lifts Nesta’s lips at the thought of Cassian carrying her to bed and making sure to charge her phone.

She finds her lockscreen blown up with notifications, all from her shared groupchat with Gwyn and Emerie.

Clicking into her texts, Nesta scrolls back through the hundreds of messages to see what she missed.

Emerie: i can’t believe nesta isn’t here for this.

Emerie: what the hell is she doing

Gwyn: probably hanging out with her best friends the inner circle

Gwyn: or getting railed

Emerie: >:(

A tired laugh escapes Nesta as she reads the texts, and she’s grateful for the reminder that these are her chosen friends. This is her found family, and she’ll be back with them soon.

Scrolling a little further back, Nesta finds the cause of all the commotion.

Emerie: A RACCOON JUST FELL THROUGH MY CEILING IM GONMA DUE &%!@

Emerie: DIE

Followed by multiple pictures of a scarily large raccoon chewing up Emerie’s bed.

Nesta shudders at the images. Reminding herself to message the girls back as soon as she has her head on straight, she puts away the phone and drags herself out of bed.

Her knees wobble a little as she stands upright and slips her glasses on, but her body keeps moving automatically toward the door. It’s not until she’s halfway downstairs that she realizes she’s looking for Cassian.

In the main hall that cuts through the house, Nesta glances between the back door and the front door. Instinct tugs her toward the front door, and as she passes the living room she spies Elain knocked out on the couch.

One of her legs dangle off the edge of the cushion and she still has her shoes on, like she dragged herself up onto the loveseat in the middle of the night and fell straight asleep.

Cassian brought Nesta up to their room sometime during the night, and Rhysand would have done the same for Feyre, but Elain… Elain has no one to carry her to her room, Nesta realizes.

Hating the unusual feeling of pity that blooms inside of her, Nesta goes over and grabs a throw blanket from nearby. She flings it haphazardly over Elain’s body. There, that should do it.

She might take a few seconds to tuck the blanket in a little better, but then she’s out the front door and jogging down the porch steps. Early morning dew beads the grass, and the sun isn’t high enough in the sky yet for the heat to be unbearable.

Like perfect timing, Cassian’s form appears from the lightly wooded running trail that circles the lake. He has his hair tied up and is wearing nothing but workout shorts, and even from this distance Nesta can see the sweat gleaming off his hardened chest.

She forgets about her headache and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol coating her tongue. Her feet speed up on the grass, and then Cassian takes sight of her too. He grins wide and breaks into a run toward her.

When they’re mere feet away from each other, Nesta is the one to halt first and hold out a hand, blocking Cassian’s incoming bear hug. “Don’t you dare.” She eyes his body with a warning look. Nesta will do a lot of things for her boyfriend, but sticking her face into his sweaty pits is not one of them.

Cassian looks her up and down with scrutiny, trying to decide if going in for the hug anyway is worth it. “Fine,” he gives in. He spins on his heel and walks down to the head of the pier, where a standing shower is set up for washing off after swims in the lake.

Twisting the faucet, Cassian stands under the cold burst of water and gives Nesta a look that says, Happy now?

Nesta cautiously goes over to where Cassian stands, but she gets too close—

In a blink, she’s being tugged under the shower stream, held tight to Cassian’s chest.

“Cassian!” Nesta splutters, trying to pull away. Droplets hit her glasses and blur her vision, and she has to shove the glasses up into her hair so she can properly glare at Cassian’s face.

He only laughs deeply and tugs her closer. “Like you don’t smell either. You’ve been in that dress since yesterday.”

Nesta catches her breath under the pouring water, glancing down at her soaked sundress. Right; she probably needs this more than he does.

The water isn’t freezing like she expected, she realizes as she relaxes in Cassian’s arms. It’s actually the perfect temperature, almost soothing after the initial shock to her senses.

Broad hands stroke long lines across her arms, like Cassian is making sure that she isn’t uncomfortable. The action triggers an old memory inside Nesta—or rather, an old familiar feeling. The feeling of Cassian in Nesta’s early days of knowing him, always pushing her out of her comfort zone but never tossing her in the deep end to drown.

“I handled my sisters and your friends pretty well the other night, don’t you think?” she murmurs into his chest.

Cassian looks down at her with pure reverence in his eyes. “I can’t be surprised. You’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Brave as hell. From the minute you stepped outside of the little circle you’d drawn around your life, you became the bravest person I know.”

“Not true,” Nesta states matter-of-factly. “I can name at least three braver people.”

Cassian pokes her in the ribs, but his smile is good natured. “It’s just an expression, Nes. Take the compliment.”

The shower keeps spraying around them, refracting the sunlight to scatter rainbows across Nesta’s vision. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she tells Cassian earnestly. “I did the bulk of the hard work, but you…you gave me that first push. You taught me I could find safety in others, because you were my first real friend.”

Her words clearly take Cassian by surprise. Maybe it’s because Nesta is so rarely open about her true feelings, so her words have more value when she is. Maybe Cassian just wasn’t expecting to get so much credit, which is why he blinks rapidly now. “And what now?” he tries to tease, emotion tangled in his throat. “You have better friends?”

“Much better,” Nesta plays along, but her gaze carries all her sincerity. She suddenly laughs to herself, remembering: “I was terrible at socializing.”

It’s something she brushes off easily now, but few people will ever know that part of her inability to get close to others stemmed from a debilitating fear of rejection.

“Not to me.” Cassian reaches out to twist the faucet off, leaving the two of them standing soaked in the morning air. “I loved talking to you. I couldn’t stop wanting to talk to you, even if you didn’t feel like talking back.” That was how insistent he’d been on becoming her friend, that he would open up to her even when she was closed off to him.

Nesta watches Cassian tug his hair tie off, a little dazed by how much she feels for him in this moment. She isn’t ready for when he scrubs a hand vigorously through his loose hair, shaking the dripping strands out like a dog.

“Cassian!” Nesta scolds for the second time this morning. She flinches back at the water droplets hitting her eyes, making Cassian laugh when he looks back up at her. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. To make up for the assault, he delicately plucks her glasses off the top of her head and uses the hem of her wet dress to wipe off the lenses as best he can.

He slides the glasses back onto her face and nods, inspecting her. “That’s better.” Then he swoops down to kiss the mole beside her mouth.

Nesta wrinkles her nose in surprise. “What’s that for?”

“It’s a thank you,” he says. “Thank you for your car breaking down in the middle of the woods, and for agreeing to spend the night at my place last September.”

Nesta’s brows raise high in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Feyre? For calling in that favor with you?”

“One day, I’ll do that too,” he promises.

Nesta bites down on a smile and shakes her head, muttering, “Ridiculous.” Yet she can’t help but wonder: who would she thank?

The universe, probably. Whatever forces made it possible for her to wake up every day in the same bed as Cassian, eating the food he cooks and accepting the unconditional love he offers.

She suddenly shivers under the rising sun, becoming aware of how just uncomfortably her sundress clings to her body. Without Cassian’s words distracting her, everything is damp and cold.

Cassian notices and slips his hand into Nesta’s, already starting to pull her away from the pier and toward the house. “Let’s get you dry,” he says. “I’ll make us pancakes before everyone else wakes up.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“With chocolate chips.”

So hand in hand, the two of them walk back up to Cherrywood House.

***

a/n: IM FREE OF THIS BEAST. that ending was absolutely horrible to write, but i hope it satisfied you anyway. and if didnt, well, that’s what the epilogue is for

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 , @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @dazzlingseb, @avgravy , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade, @alanathedeer , @mossybank , @simsiddy , @xxspqcebunsxx

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader

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dem-obscure-imagines · 3 years

Text

Second Chances

Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Summary: With new threats about, the Umbrella Academy is looking for new members to (potentially) help save the world and your healing abilities make you the perfect candidate to join.

Note: Idk why I’ve been in a Ben Hargreeves mood these past few days, but have some fluff. Set in a no time travel no apocalypse au?

Warnings: Very mild mentions of death

Word Count: 1.2k

Reader is: Gender Neutral

When you’d called the Umbrella Academy claiming to be gifted like they were, the others were, admittedly, skeptical. Several times throughout their childhood, the Hargreeves had met countless parents with children they claimed to be special, and none of them ever actually were. But, with Reginald dead and world-ending threats lurking around every corner, the remaining Hargreeves siblings were a little more…open to having more help around.

So, you arrived at the house, with little more than your messenger bag, your laptop, your favorite mug, and some clothes. You figured you shouldn’t bring too many things in case they kicked you right back out, but they wouldn’t have any reason to. You really were gifted.

The monkey butler, named Pogo, welcomed you in, and a nice woman named Grace made a cup of tea for you, and in the meantime, the rest of the siblings slowly assembled in the living room. The first of whom was Klaus, who, as usual, was bored.

“So you’re the one who called, huh?” He asked, sizing you up.

“Yep. I’m (Y/N).”

“And what’s your ability?” Klaus asked, plopping down on the couch across from you.

“We’ll let them show us when everyone else gets here.” Luther asserted, entering the room. “Nice to meet you, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” You said politely, sipping from the mug of tea. Off in the corner of the room, you felt a…presence. You looked over there, your eyes narrowed, and sure enough, there was a bundle of energy concentrated there. Almost as though…

Huh. Odd.

You caught Klaus staring at you when you glanced back that way and he smirked a little to himself, although he didn’t explain why it had caught his attention. Given your faint knowledge of the Umbrella Academy members, heralded as heroes while you were growing up, you were fairly certain he was Séance, which could only mean one thing…

It only took the others a few more minutes to get to the living room, and so once everyone was assembled, a man who had introduced himself as Diego said, “Alright, so what’s your thing?”

“I’m a healer. I have healing powers and they’re…kind of ridiculously powerful.” You told them.

“Healing powers are great, but we’re going to need you to prove it.” Luther crossed his arms, focused on you.

“Okay.” You shrugged. There was a dead plant sitting in a pot on the coffee table, so, you concentrated, green energy manifesting around your fingers. You flicked them onto the plant, and when you did, immediately, it perked up, its brown and withered leaves filling out and returning to the green color they had been weeks prior before it had died.

“Woah.” Allison smiled, staring at the now, very much alive plant. “That’s…incredible.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “It, uh, works on people, too. Obviously.”

“Right. Well, next time one of us is injured, we know where to find you. Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you.”

***

And so, you moved some more of your things in, which included a large amount of books. You liked reading, so a lot of your time spent at the school was in the living room, curled up with a book and a mug of tea.

It was on one of those occasions that Klaus approached you.

“You can see him, right?” He asked, motioning to the…presence that was lingering next to him. It migrated swiftly to one of the chairs in the living room, and Klaus looked at it, seemingly listening to it before turning his attention back to you. “When you first got here, you looked right at him.”

“I cannot see him, no, but I can feel him. I don’t know if that makes any sense…It’s like a magnetic field, kind of. There’s a pull to wherever he is.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” Klaus nodded. “This is Ben. My dead brother. Our dearly departed.”

“Oh, uh, sorry for your loss.” You said, unsure of how to respond to such a statement. “And nice to meet you, Ben.”

Klaus looked to Ben before repeating, “He says it’s nice to meet you, too. I have a question, though, are you into spirituality? Like witchcraft? Or is this part of your gift?”

“I’m…not sure, actually. I collect rocks, but more because they’re pretty than any other reason.” You thought for a long moment about just what he was insinuating. “Huh…”

“What?”

“Hold still.” You told the empty space where Ben was supposedly sitting, calling your power to your hand and watching as the green light flickered around your fingertips. Then, you flicked your wrist forward, sending the energy in that direction.

Then, suddenly, a young man in a black hoodie and leather jacket appeared in the chair in front of you, staring at you dumbfounded.

“Holy shit!” You jolted, gasping and staring at him. “I did not expect that to work, honestly.” You admitted, giggling.

“You can see me?” He asked, looking down at his hands and then pressing them to his cheeks to feel his skin.

“Yeah, and I can hear you, too.” You told him.

“Am I…?” Ben murmured softly, feeling the fabric of his hoodie. He pinched himself.

Klaus walked over and poked him a few times. “I mean, you feel pretty real to me.”

“How did you…How did you do that?”

“I have no idea, but I guess we can add necromancy to my list of powers.”

“Is there something going on in…here…?” Allison was standing in the doorway, looking into the room. Her eyes landed on Ben. Immediately she teared up. “B-Ben?”

“In the flesh. I think.” Ben chuckled, still not positive he was really alive after all of his years as a ghost. Tears brimmed his eyes too. “Been a while, huh?”

Allison rushed into the room and hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks, and once she was done, she went to gather the others while Klaus took his turn, giving his formerly dead brother a hug.

As soon as Klaus let go of him, Ben walked over towards you and knelt down in front of where you were sitting, taking your hand, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Thank you. So much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Of course.” You said softly. “I’d say anytime, but I don’t want you to die again anytime soon, alright?”

“Right.” He laughed. “I’ll try to stick around a while longer this time.”

“Good.”

***

With Ben alive again, the occasion called for celebration, which meant some family bonding and drinks and music, and while you didn��t really feel like part of their mismatched family yet, the Hargreeves welcomed you quickly as one of their own, especially given that you had returned their brother to them.

And once the party was over and the others were slowly but surely going up to bed one by one, Ben made sure to single you out, approaching you with a smile brighter than the others said he’d ever smiled during his first life.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but, um, second chances and all that…” Ben rubbed the back of his neck chuckling to himself and blushing for the first time in about a decade. “Do you maybe wanna go to the movies sometime? Or like out to dinner? I’d like to do something to repay you, and also…get to know you a little better? If that’s alright? If not, it’s totally cool, I just—”

“I’d love to, Ben. That’d be great.”

“Awesome. Cool. Um, Friday at seven?”

“Friday at seven.” You nodded, smiling. “It’s a date.”

#ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine

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darlingpetao3 · 3 years

Text

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 9)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Well folks, it’s the final chapter... I’m not sure it’s actually all that great, but here it is and I hope it’s well received, nonetheless! Thanks for coming on this crazy ride with me <3

Tag List: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly @disneyoncerlover815 @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap @noctvrnalmoth @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3 @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos @arianalilyblack @sonnensplitter @imagine-yourself-happy @stuckysdaughter @wintersire @i-dont-care-lol @booksandfandomsarelife1 @marvelhastakenovermybeing @marisughh

Eobard Thawne clutches his fist down beside him, surely feeling the surge of Speed Force energy running through his entire body once more. He looks like he’s just taken a hit of the most addictive drug—eyes flashing a dangerous crimson, his whole being vibrating at the speed of sound before everyone’s eyes.

The Reverse Flash turns to Libby and Belle—who both remain frozen in place out of sheer shock after realizing that this man isn’t who he claimed to be—and gives them one of his iconic shit-eating grins.

“Thank you, girls,” he says smugly. “I couldn’t have achieved any of this without you. The next time I have your real uncle under my boot, I’ll think of you wonderful girls.”

“What have we done…?” Belle whispers rhetorically to her sister. A speechless Liberty only shakes her head in reply.

Eobard locks eyes with Barry, who stands in the doorway to the kitchen. The villain smirks before he bolts off, running upward along the diminishing forcefield wall and out through one the holes forming in it. Barry watches on as he decides to let his adversary go. He’s learned by now it’s never the last time he’ll see Eobard Thawne. That bastard always seems to find a way back into everyone’s lives. He’s like a cockroach that won’t stay dead.

Yes… Barry will come face to face with the Reverse Flash again. He may not know when, but when he does, he’ll be ready.

Because right now, you need him.

Your world is falling apart.

Again.

The forcefield continues to fall slowly from above. Your time is limited. You know that in mere minutes, everything will disappear, including the people you love.

“Mom, we’re so, so sorry,” Belle tells you desperately. “We thought he was just teaching us how to perfect our powers. It felt like a game!”

“My dear, sweet girls,” you look them straight in the eyes as you explain to them, “I assure you both, it’s not your fault. Okay? You had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of. It’s not your fault, do you understand me?” They nod through their tears. “You two may have grown up incredibly fast, far too fast for my liking, in fact, but I am so thrilled that you were- are mine. You will always be my little girls. No matter what.”

“Thank you for being our mom,” Liberty says to you in all seriousness.

“No one is cooler or stronger than you,” Belle adds with a smile very reminiscent of her fathers’. If these two aren’t careful, you’re going to completely lose it in front of them.

Off in the distance, you spot Barry watching this heartfelt scene play out. You wave him over to meet his nieces, so he can see what you’ve created for yourself up close and personal. Libby and Belle should meet their real uncle, a true hero, before they’re…

Barry places a hand each on the girls’ shoulders. See, Barry? They’re real. And I’ll lose them too. Do you feel my pain now? This is what I live through all the time.

Barry’s eyes begin to glisten until the tiny bulbs of tears hold still, unwilling to fall just yet.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” he tells them. “You’re both such bright stars.” They give bittersweet smiles up at him in silence. You don’t think they fully understand what will come to pass in mere minutes, but you do. You can feel it in your bones.

Barry steps back from your family unit so that you all can have one more last moment together. You take this final opportunity to bring your girls in close for a tight hug, letting a sob escape you despite trying to keep it together for your family. You wave a hand over to your husbands as if to gesture for them to get in on this family group hug, and quickly. They do so promptly, all four of them enveloping you, Liberty, and Belle as if to form a loving hug shield.

“I love you,” you make sure to say these three precious words, making eye contact to each and every one of those you have magicked into being here with you today… before they disintegrate before your very eyes.

And soon enough, you can’t even feel them anymore. The forcefield has vanished within the Lab’s basement, along with the Wells and the twins.

You cry. You shake and your body wracks with the sort of sobs that hurt your throat. Barry makes sure he holds you tightly. Caitlin approaches carefully and ends up holding your hand. Then it’s Cisco who puts his own hand on your shoulder as everyone else in the room looks on at your despair.

***

After some much-needed rest in the Medbay, you awake to a spookily quiet Labs. You’re not sure of the time (or day, even), but regardless, you figure it’s best to head home. Goodness knows it’s probably still in shambles. That’ll need to be fixed.

You heave a sigh as you leave the Cortex.

“Come on, you can sigh louder than that.”

You turn around to find the unexpected voice belonging to Zatanna. You imagine she must have had to recoup as well from the amount of magic she would have used to break through to your world.

“Oh, hey,” you say tiredly. “I take it you’re on your way, then?”

“Yeah, I have a show in Coast City in two days, so I better head off.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry to have brought you into all this madness.”

“No, please. If anything, I should thank you as well as offer my condolences... Your magic is something I've never seen before. Honestly, I’m still intrigued by it.” Zatanna hesitates. “Would it be weird if I gave you my contact information? I don’t come across many others with true magic. I’d love to keep in touch. Maybe we could learn from each other?”

“Yes, of course,” you agree. “I think that’s a great idea.” She hands you her card—a glittery black business card with her name and number.

“So, hey,” she says, “You going to be okay?”

You take a few seconds to think her question over.

“I think, in time, I could be,” you answer truthfully.

“I know it may not be much,” Zatanna says, “but one of my powers involves granting wishes. Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been through so much. I’ve seen it. And everybody has something they're hoping for. Something they wish they could change…” She pauses, waiting for your answer, but also seems distracted. You wonder what kind of life this woman has led. What has she done in her past that she regrets or wishes for from the bottom of her heart?

“I only wish for Harrison Wells to be in my life,” you answer honestly. Is that so much to ask for? It seems to be that way.

“Is that what your heart most desires?”

You sigh. “More than anything.”

There’s another pause.

“You know, sometimes you’ll find that our wishes come true on their own, even without magic,” the magician points out ominously.

“That’s code for “I just can’t make that wish come true,” isn’t it?” you joke, somewhat.

“The people that we love—they’re only gone when we stop carrying them with us. How you choose to carry Harrison Wells is up to you.”

You let that sink in and press a hand to your heart. He will always be here with you. Right here. You’ll make sure of it.

“I wish you all the luck and magic in the world, (Y/N),” Zatanna says kindly. “It was nice to meet you.”

You nod in thanks, unsure of how to respond to that. With her aged, thick book under her arm, Zatanna Zatara walks down the S.T.A.R. Labs corridor, but you swear her body vanishes before she rounds the corner…

Despite all the trouble you’ve put her through—everyone, really—with all of this, you can still take comfort in the act of making a new friend.

As you walk through the empty hallways of the Labs, you make it to where the elevator lies. You go to press the button to summon the machine when a ding sounds before your finger even touches the button. The doors slide open, and the face that greets you shocks you to your very core.

“Hello, there,” he says.

In fact, you are so stunned that you take a step back, but in doing so, you stumble and begin to topple over. Luckily, a certain someone’s quick arms catch you in time.

The face you know all too well, Harrison Wells, that is, glows with a calm happiness as he looks down at you in his arms. Behind immaculate see-through frames, his pretty blues eyes twinkle like the stars. He smiles like he knows you. You stare up in disbelief, in relief, and in love.

“Hello… Harrison.”

#reader insert #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #harry wells x reader #harry wells imagine #nash wells x reader #nash wells imagine #hr wells x reader #hr wells imagine #sherloque wells x reader #sherloque wells imagine #eowells imagine #eowells x reader #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

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sgwrscrsh · 3 years

Text

winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked.

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.”

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands.

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.”

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said.

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist.

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves.

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms.

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves.

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes.

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?”

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner.

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you.

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door.

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry.

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?”

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go.

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings.

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you.

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts.

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you.

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds.

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots.

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask.

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining.

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.”

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug.

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by.

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!”

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.”

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out.

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs @sachirou-senpai @honey-makki @kenmaki

#skye writes fluff #seijoh four #seijoh third years #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu poly #haikyuu post time skip #skye writes a series #summer on you: the series

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laurensprentiss · 3 years

Text

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 13:

Gif credit: @hqtchner

A/N: I toyed with several ideas for this one, but I wanted the reader to be strong in her own right which is why this takes the direction it does.

Warnings: Strong depictions of violence, assault, blood, vomiting. Graphic injury, choking, gun violence.

———

“What you remember saves you.” - W.S Merwin

———

“You don’t like what I’ve done with the place?”

“Jordan.” You breathe. “What did you do?”

His jaw sets. His expression goes from glee to fury and he’s next to you in a flash, nose to nose, dragging your head back by the hair on the nape of your neck. A wince escapes your mouth when the pulling sends a sting up your scalp.

“What do you mean, what did I do? Isn’t it obvious?” He sneers, punctuating his words with another pull of your hair.

You cry out in pain, your neck straining. The rabid look in his eyes and his bared teeth send shivers down your spine.

He continues, “I made sure you were going to stay all...mine.” He whispers, releasing his grip, smoothing the top of your head. “Isn’t it sweet? I did it all so I could have you all to myself… and instead of thanking me, you’re acting like you’re above me. Like you always do. Maybe I need to teach you how to be grateful-”

“I’ll be grateful.” You offer in a quick breath. “I mean- I am. I am grateful. I was just so…” You swallow thickly, tearing your eyes away from the pictures, “Surprised that you did all this. For me.” You fight the tears pricking your eyes.

“You mean that?”

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. “Yes. I do.”

“Good. Y’know all I ever wanted was us to be together? When you broke up with me, I admit, I was angry. I thought you were fucking somebody else.” He paces the length of the room and that’s when your gaze falls to the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “But I realised you couldn’t possibly.”

You brace yourself when his gaze falls to his handiwork on the walls.

“But then…” He inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you with him.” His volume rises steadily. “I send you gifts, I send you letters, I give you clues, I even draw blood for you and you repay me by parading around another man?!”

You cry out when he delivers a blow to the left side of your face, a crack resounding in the room. Your skin blisters red hot where he strikes you, you swear he’s torn open some skin on your cheek. It sends your head spinning, you figure you’re already nursing a concussion, this just makes it worse.

“That’s not-”

“Don’t you interrupt me.” He spits, his face close enough for you to smell the bourbon on his breath. “You had him come to my house today, try to scare me? He thinks he’s a big powerful man, FBI… that badge doesn’t mean shit, he doesn’t know who I am.”

“Jordan-”

“What was it about him anyway? You could’ve had me, you know, we could’ve been a dynasty.” He’s grandstanding. Always did have a problem with his fragile ego. He turns his back to you, scanning the pictures on the wall. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m having it taken care of.” He mutters.

Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, you couldn’t possible have thought that I’d let him live?”

Your heart skips. The ‘other guy’ that was to be taken care of - Hotch.

“Jordan, no. It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He turns slowly, rage behind his eyes that’s only thinly veiled by a psychotic smile. “There’s nothing between us! Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, don’t do this.” You plead.

“Why do you care?”

“-What?”

“Why… do you… care?” His eyes are fanatical, nostrils flared. “If nothing happened between you, why do you care what happens to him?”

You know why now.

“Because I don’t want anyone to die! Him, Emily, anybody! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You stutter through your sobs. “Please don’t do this.”

“You don’t want him to die? How stupid do you think I am?” He grabs the back of your head and directs you to a picture of you and Hotch on the gazebo - the day you’d met. “You look at him like that because he’s a friend?” He spits.

He’s right, though - that’s the thing.

You don’t know how you didn’t realise sooner, how you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see your own face when you were around him, but the way you look at him, your smile.

You don’t think you’ve looked at anybody like that before.

Tears roll down your cheeks now, eyes welling over.

He smooths over your hair, straightening out his own shirt. “I will make it quick though. Humane. I owe him that much.”

“What?”

“I owe him. How do you think you got here?” When you can’t formulate the words he continues, “Hm, let me spell it out for you.” He continues his rapid pacing, fingers compulsively scratching his neck. “We break up, you betray me, so I leave the country. I come back, try to get you back, you betray me, again. FBI man comes into the picture, his girlfriend feels neglected, said girlfriend then conveniently runs into me at a bar after an argument, confides in me and starts sleeping with me. She’s a real peach, though. Total Type-A, wouldn’t let me fuck her raw.” He adds, rolling his eyes.

You feel nauseous.

You wonder if Hotch knows.

He goes on, “I fuck her, she tells me everything I want to know. Including the fact that she thought he was cheating on her.” He laughs bitterly. “I thought we might have had something when you called me a few months ago, remember that? That was a good time.” Your stomach turns when you think back to the worst mistake you’d ever made. “But then you stopped taking my calls, I put two together from there, figured you were fucking him. I knew then that he had to die.” He rolls his eyes.

His smile reveals a row of eerily straight teeth but there’s nothing behind his eyes except a sick kind of glee.

“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you, he never touched me.” You plead with him, desperately. You reckon with the fact that if you couldn’t regain control of this situation, Hotch would die. “Look, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“I swear. Anything. Just call it off, please.” He considers your statement for a moment, kneeling down between your knees again. He makes a point to flash you his gun, the silver glinting, before reaching for a switchblade that’s tucked into his back pocket. You flinch when he brings it purposely closer to you but he cuts you free.

“I’m going to test you. Stay here with me. You run, I kill him.” He lays the knife flat against your bruised cheek, “Then I kill you.” He whispers. You wince when the sharp edge breaks a thin layer of skin and you feel a warm trail of blood on your cheek.

You nod desperately, agreeing. “I swear. I’ll do anything, just call it off.”

Just as he finishes cutting you free, his phone vibrates against the wooden table under the window. He excuses himself, face lighting up for a moment. You try your best to hear, but the voice on the other end is indistinguishable.

Jordan’s responses are short.

“Fitz.”

“Hello?” He presses the phone closer to his ear. “Lawrence? It’s done?” He smiles at the response from the other side.

“30 minutes.” He hangs up and rattles off a quick text message before setting the phone down again.

He sighs, concealing his unhinged glee when he turns to look at you. “Bad news babe.” He says tutting, knowingly with a disturbing smile. “I know I said I’d call it off but,” he waves the phone in the air, “it’s already done. Your friend, Aaron?”

Oh please, no. Don’t say it.

“He’s dead.”

———

Once the first bang reverberates in the nurses’ station, time seems to move in slow motion. McCall yells for everybody to get down, cocking his gun. Panic erupts for a moment before everybody falls to the ground, the first shot already fired.

Where it comes from, who fires first, it isn’t clear, the whole thing in reality is over in a matter of seconds but time still seems to stop.

Now, McCall kneels over a dead body, hyper-aware of eyes on him, “He’s gone.” He whispers.

A hand grips his shoulder from behind as he stares down at the corpse in front of him laying in a pool of blood, three bullet holes in the chest.

His ears still ring.

“Hey. Emily’s fine. I had two cops posted outside her door.” He turns to find Hotch, who can’t tear his eyes away from Officer Lawrence’s dead body in front of them.

They’re about to let medical personnel clear out the area and wheel him away in a body bag when Hotch spots something in Lawrence’s scrub pockets.

“Wait! Hold it a sec?” He asks, retrieving a piece of paper and cellphone from Lawrence. They make their way back to Emily’s hospital room in unison.

McCall looks at him, puzzled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“That was the first person you ever shot, right? He’s dead. You’re allowed to not be okay.”

“I’m fine - I need to focus. I need to get her back.” He’d be lying if he said his hands weren’t trembling but he has more pressing matters on his hand. The need to get you back safe and sound outweighs any personal conflict for him. He unfolds the piece of paper, muttering aloud a series of numbers. “It’s a phone number. What’d you wanna bet it’s Jordan?” He does a double take when he sees his own name written in capital letters on the other side of the paper, passing it to McCall.

“Some vendetta, hm? He was sent to kill you.” McCall takes the phone from Hotch and starts to dial when Hotch places a stalling arm on his.

“Wait.”

He dials Garcia’s number deftly, asks her to search for a location on the number before they call it, but to his disappointment, it’s a prepaid. He then has Garcia set up a track and trace before he lets McCall dial the number.

“Ready, Garcia?”

The phone rings three times before it’s answered, Jordan’s voice curt and straight to the point, assuming it’s Lawrence. Hotch can hear Garcia’s typing and beeping but when McCall doesn’t say anything, Jordan takes matters into his own hands.

“It’s done?” Jordan asks outright.

“Yes.” McCall replies with little inflection, keeping his voice even so as to not arouse suspicion. Jordan gives McCall a time - 30 minutes, before snapping the phone shut.

McCall tries the number again, but it’s dead. Destroyed.

“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asks desperately.

“No, sir, it was barely long enough to triangulate the call, I’m sorry.”

“Keep searching, Garcia, we need this address. Look for something in isolation, out of the way. It’s gotta mean something to him.”

“Yes, sir. Typing as we speak.”

Hotch rubs an exasperated hand over his beard, “Y’know the media can’t get wind of this, if he has access to a TV or radio and sees I’m alive? He’ll kill her.” He shudders as the words leave his mouth, making way for the possibility that he does not want to reckon with.

You might already be dead.

He dials quickly “Chief Barnes? I need a favour.”

———

He’s been pacing the length of Emily’s hospital room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Chief Barnes to call in every favour he can to keep the media at bay so they can keep up the charade. He increases the TV volume opposite Emily’s bed when he sees a news report flash across the scene.

“Good evening, everybody. We come to you live tonight with some breaking news.”

He braces himself. Did Barnes manage to cover the hit on him?

“The daughters of two US Ambassadors have reportedly been involved in what appears to be a multi-car collision in the Virginia countryside, earlier tonight.”

Two pictures appear side by side of you and Emily.

“The daughter of Ambassador Prentiss was rushed to hospital earlier tonight and remains in critical condition at Bridgepoint Hospital after sustaining multiple injuries. The daughter of the US Ambassador to France however, is reported to be missing. The Ambassador himself is reportedly unaware of his daughter’s condition, presumed to be en-route to Paris tonight. Three people were pronounced dead at the scene, including Metro PD officers Evan Matthews and Howard Denton.”

He waits anxiously for any mention of his own name or Jordan, Lawrence, but the anchor passes over to the correspondent.

He sighs in relief, just as his phone rings.

“Garcia?”

“I think I finally have a location on Fitzgerald. I checked for any and all properties under Senator Fitzgerald’s name, his second and third wives, his spawn’s name, even the Fitzgerald Family Trust. Nada.” She pauses for breath. “So. I dug down deeper. I searched instead for any properties under Sloan Marie Fitzgerald - still nothing. But then I chanced a search under her maiden name, Hamilton, and wouldn’t you know - the Hamilton family had a cabin between Rock Creek Park and Montgomery County. The late Mrs. Fitzgerald would take him to said cabin most summers before she died.”

“Alright, good work. Send us-”

“I'm not even going to let you finish that sentence, because it’s quite frankly insulting. Coordinates are on their way to you now, Sirs.”

Hotch huffs a laugh, it’s the most he can muster right now. He knows he owes Garcia a massive bouquet of flowers after all this is over.

He grabs McCall by his jacket. “Suit up. We’ve got an address.”

———

‘He’s dead.’

The onset of shock and unmistakable rise of nausea had caused you to retch violently and empty the contents of your stomach into the nearest toilet.

Your legs had given out then, and you’re now planted on a dusty armchair, finding yourself staring into nothingness, your body still stinging with the shock and injuries you’d sustained.

It’s all you’ve done for the past fourty something minutes. The blood stays rushing in your ears, and the pounding in your head is unrelenting. You haven’t said a word since, your body’s energy drained. You’re almost catatonic, unable to even shed a few tears for Hotch’s death.

He’s dead. He’s dead because of you.

You think back to the first time you met, he’d been so bright eyed and optimistic. Disarming. You think about the way he’d told you about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future as a profiler. He’d had so much to live for. All of that had been ripped away from him because he’d gotten involved in your case. It was your fault he was dead.

And you didn’t know how you were going to make it out of this. Your limbs feel like concrete - fatigue, shock and grief make it hard to formulate any kind of rational thought. Jordan’s hand comes to smooth the top of your head once again, but the gesture is far from comforting or loving.

“It’s okay. You’ll see in time, this was for the best. This way, there aren’t any distractions.” He whispers. He’s been pacing the length of the cabin, repeatedly checking his second burner as though he’s awaiting some news.

He resumes his pacing when you finally break your silence, your voice hoarse.

“You killed a man.” You whisper.

“What’s that?”

“You killed a man.” You sob quietly. “You had someone killed, that doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“Oh I did more than just have your little lover killed. I made sure your father and that Prentiss bitch were taken care of too.”

Your vision tunnels, a high-pitched whine penetrating your skull. You feel like the ground has just been ripped from under you, like you’re falling. You can feel your heart shatter, the splintering fragments of your life piercing your skin.

“My father? He’s not here. He’s-”

He glances at his watch. “-On his way to Paris?” You feel the bile rising again. “I know. Like I said, I’m having it all taken care of. They’re all dead, babe - or will be, soon.” He brings a hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cut. “Don’t you see? I did it so I could have you all to myself.”

The glee in his voice provokes something in you, a rage you’ve never felt before. You figure you have nothing else to lose, everything and everyone you ever loved is dead, you’d either fight and die quicker, or you’d stay and die slowly.

In a move that stuns even you, you spit on Jordan’s face and bring your hand up to strike him notwithstanding the piercing pain in your ribs. The flat of your palm makes sharp contact with his bearded cheek. The sound echoes in the room, and your own hand stings from the force, but a minute satisfaction settles into your bones.

He takes a minute to steady himself, but when he turns to look at you, his eyes flash with something you’ve never seen in a person before. In one fell swoop, he drags you to stand by your hair, pushing you into a glass frame against the wall.

The glass shatters, puncturing the skin on your cheek and forearm where you bear the brunt of the impact. He lands two blows to your stomach, causing you to keel over, winding you. The pain blooms to your already bruised ribs, your breaths ragged. He grabs you then by the throat, pinning you against the wall, your breaths coming short and constricted.

He shakes you against the wall, his hand tight around your throat, cutting off your air. “You ever pull something like that again, I’ll kill you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He growls in a low voice. “Do you understand me?” You can feel the blood pumping in your face, your eyes starting to bulge.

You drive your knee into his crotch with all the force you can muster, exactly like Hotch had taught you. You then go for his shin that only gives you mere seconds to grab your breath when he lets you go in pain.

You fall with him, knees giving out when you gasp for breath, and when you see him charging towards you again, you reach to your right for a dusty glass vase that sits on a single table. You manage to get yourself back on your feet right as he’s about to make contact with you again, the butt of the vase smashing into his skull.

He cries out in pain as he falls to the ground again on all fours, blood streaming down his face. A gash on his forehead seeps blood and several pieces of glass are embedded in his face.

You’re still trying to catch your own breath when you spot the silver glint of his 9mm catch the light in his back pocket.

This is your chance.

You half-crawl, half-run to him, landing a violent kick to his stomach to strike him down. You grab the gun from his back pocket, stumbling a little from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands trembling. You check the magazine and load it as fast as your hands will allow.

You grip the Beretta just as Hotch had taught you, wrapping your dominant hand around the magazine, your index finger parallel to the chamber. Your other hand wraps around your dominant, as you stand over him.

“Get up.” You snarl. “Get up, NOW!” You order him through your coughs.

He turns around slowly, slipping twice on his way up, groaning with the exertion. His face mirrors your own, a gash on his lip and forehead, blood streaming down his cheek.

He chuckles darkly, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that are covered in his blood. “Oh… you think you’re hot shit. You even know how to use that thing? Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Your body aches feverishly and you swear you could pass out at any minute, vision blurry. You can feel your grip loosening and you’re trying to centre yourself when Jordan takes advantage of your momentary slip.

He lunges for you in a flash, knife in hand.

———

“We’re about a mile out, I want sirens and lights off. He can’t know we’re coming.” Hotch says into his radio. He’s watching the road ahead as they get deeper into the woods, the off-road terrain making it hard to keep control of the SUV.

They’re backed up at rear by three MPD police cars, Chief Fuller’s attempt at making nice with Hotch after their earlier altercation.

He swallows thickly, his mouth like cotton. He knows he can’t afford one wrong move, not here. Not with you. He needs to get you back. He made a promise to Emily.

He’ll die trying.

He keeps a firm grip on your chain, rubbing it one last time for steady luck before tucking it into his shirt pocket.

A clearing of trees reveals another path to them. It leads off into the distance, to a small wooden cabin around 80 feet away. It’s illuminated by amber light emanating from a single window.

“Alright, guys. Nice and slow, headlights off, we’re gonna dismount now. Everybody out.” He whispers into the comms once they clear another 50 feet.

Leaves rustle underneath their feet as they stealthily approach the cabin, guns cocked. Hotch has three cops flanking him and McCall brings up the rear, covering the back exit.

They’re almost at the entrance when a loud bang resounds from inside, and Hotch short circuits, his knuckles white around his glock.

Inside the cabin, you send Jordan flying with a shot to his shoulder, the smell of gun smoke burning your nostrils. Your hands tremble violently, your mind temporarily blanking - you feel like you’re swimming. Your ears ring from the noise, a high-pitched whine piercing your brain.

There’s another bang almost immediately after Jordan stumbles backwards but you’re sure you only fired one shot.

Jordan’s body in front of you is your only focal point, so much so that it’s only when you see McCall and two cops approach him writhing on the floor that you come back into your body.

You realise the second bang had been them kicking down the front door. Your hands on the Beretta loosen just slightly and you let out a deep exhale. The voices in the room are still swimming as your brain slowly catches up.

“Grab her.” McCall’s voice calls out. He shouts into the comms that he needs medics, and suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of a hand on your wrist and a body next to you. You reassure yourself that Jordan is on the ground so you let your hands fall limp, dropping the gun and it falls to the ground with a sharp clack. Your eyes are still trained on McCall pressing on Jordan’s wound.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” The voice cuts through your still-ringing ears.

You know that voice.

You’d know that voice anywhere.

Your heart thunders, and your lips start to tremble as you try to reconcile everything you thought was reality with what’s really in front of you.

You turn slowly to find an achingly familiar pair of warm hazel eyes.

He’s alive.

“Aaron?” You sob. You reach out for him but he catches you before you can stumble, his arms steady around your waist. He whispers into your hair, bringing a protective hand up to cradle your head as you sob into his chest.

“It’s okay. I got you. I told you I’d come for you.”

His voice is the last thing you hear before you black out, your body finally offering you some well-earned reprieve.

———

Tags: @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy @archiveofadragon @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams @slxtherinchxser

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#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch smut #hotch fluff #cm fanfic #cm fic #cm fic rec #criminal minds

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lottiebagley · 3 years

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Traditions- Draco Malfoy

The girl can't help the scowl on her face, her eyebrows raised and her jaw set, a glare that would strike fear in even the bravest man shooting from her eyes.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Blaise's voice questions as he drops onto the bench next to her.

"Nothing," she mutters, not bothering to pull her eyes away, he scoffs following her line of sight to see what's upsetting his friend.

Draco Malfoy had been her best friend since she was 6 years old. Her mother had been friends with Narcissa her whole life and when her family moved back to England, as their oldest child was starting Hogwarts, from their Parisian home they had moved into an equally large mansion next door the Malfoy Manor.

Being excited to see her oldest friend her mother had happily dragged her two daughters and her son along with her to the afternoon tea Narcissa had invited them too on their first full day in the new home.

The pair of friends had been overjoyed to throw their son and youngest daughter into a living room and watch them become best friends.

They had been inseparable ever since that day and even now considered each other the best thing in their lives. Not that they ever said that it was just a given, it was an unspoken fact they both knew, there was a lot of those in their friendship. She was starting to wish she plucked up the courage to say something.

"Oh I see, Parkinson is your problem," Blaise smirks. Eyes scanning the way Draco and Pansy flirted, sitting much too close together and leaning into each other's touch.

"It's not Parkinson it's Dray," she shrugs, aware her voice sounds bitter as she turns back around, rolling her eyes at the pity in her friends eyes.

Blaise Zabini considered himself vastly lucky for the things in his life and that had always included his friends. Draco Malfoy was his closest friend and he was a good friend despite his obnoxious and self centred personality. Y/N Y/L/N was like the sister he never had and he could read her like a book. That's why he was so aware of the feelings they each held for each other. He wasn't alone in being aware of course, the whole world seemed to know, the only people blind enough to register their feelings were the two people who needed to be aware of them the most. Blaise was just unlucky in that he had to listen to them both pine after each other. He was glad when Draco seemed to realise his feelings for the girl were way more than platonic but she was yet to have the same epiphany.

"And what has Draco done?" Blaise questions

"Abandoned me!" She lets out dropping her head to the wooden table, her dramatic flare definitely something she picked up from her best friend. "Draco and I have these unspoken rules, we meet in the common room and get breakfast together every day. We always have. 8:15 on the dot. And yet, when I arrive in the common room this morning I see him clambering out of the door and get here to see he's sitting with pug face," She expands, although she has no doubt that Blaise knows all of this.

"It's just one day," he counters with a mile "chin up buttercup," he grins.

"I'm fucking freezing," she complains, trying to contain the shiver threatening to take over her body.

"Not surprised," her roommate smiles sympathetically, eyeing her long sleeve top "you should have brought a jacket or a jumper at least," she reprimands gently. Her eyes flirting between the angry girl next to her and the quidditch game in front of her.

"Yeah. I should have," the girl mutters

"Where's Draco's? Doesn't he usually give you his jumper to watch quidditch in when you go wish him luck before the game," The roommate questions her friend, well aware of the tradition the pair of best friends share.

"I didn't catch him before the game," she grumbles

"With Parkinson again?" The sympathetic smile is enough to make the girl feel like she spoke about this whole situation too much

"Yup," she nods, regretting looking for Pansy in the stands immediately as she sees a jumper she recognises as Draco's hanging from the brunettes body.

She can't really explain why it hurts so much. Watching how Draco's arm holds his girlfriend close to him by her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

It did though. It killed her when she would be forced to spend time with the couple, when her one on one time with her best friend felt like a rare occurrence. Maybe that's why it hurts so much this time.

She storms through the common room, past the couple who are surrounded by their friend group, the group she should be sat in, blinking back the tears in her eyes. Vaguely aware of her friends calling out to her but not stopping for a second. She can hear someone following her to her dorm, she can tell by the voice calling to her that it's Draco.

The door slams behind her as she locks it in a rush.

"Alohamora," she recognises come through the muffled wood, the lock easily moving.

"Do not come in here!" She shouts, her voice easily giving away that she's crying

"What? I can hear you're crying, darling, of course I'm going to-" she cuts of his call

"No! I'm serious Draco! Just- just leave me alone!"

"Why are you so mad at me? You never don't let me in," he reminds "I can't help you if you won't let me," he adds. His hand is pressed in a fist against the door. His head resting against it, he hates that he can hear her muffled sobs. He is angry a lot of the time but seeing the look on her face so briefly made his blood boil, ready to kill whoever hurt his best friend.

"Just fuck off back to Parkinson. Clearly you are too busy with her to care about me anymore!" She's trying to sound angry but they can both hear how hurt she is. It's when the realisation hits him. It's Wednesday. They study together ever Wednesday night in the library, they always have, and he missed it.

He lets out a sigh. Turning so his back is pressed against the door, she hears the way he sinks to sit with his back to the door and does the same. Neither of them can stop themselves from thinking, one piece of wood is all the keeps them apart.

"Love, I am so so sorry I missed out study session," he admits. He wants to scream, he can hear a whimper from her at the reminder. "I'm the worst best friend ever. I know that,"

"You're not, just a bit shitty sometimes," she returns, she hates how he always puts himself down.

She was always too forgiving, Blaise told her all the time that it was why people treated her like shit. That's why she had to tell him that she was mad.

She hadn't even meant to forgive him that night but the next day he had seemed so upset that she couldn't not give his cheek a peck and squeeze his shoulder on her way past after breakfast to assure him they were okay. She spent the whole day wondering if he had even noticed they don't eat breakfast together anymore.

She pounds on the door with a heavy hand. Leaning against it to support her intoxicated body, god there was no way she would be doing this if it wasn't for the spiked punch she had been downing for the past three hours.

The sound of a girls giggle makes her body feel cold as the door is pulled open, she stumbles into Draco's chest after the support of the door is gone, he's quick to grab her and steady her.

"Wow love, how much have you drank?" He questions gently, unable to stop the warm feeling in his chest as he pushes some hair from her face.

"No! No don't you call me love and play with my hair!" She demands, stumbling into his private dorm. Ignoring Pansy who is sat on the green leather sofa, clearly fresh from making out with Draco.

"What do you mean?" He questions, reaching out for her, heart breaking at the way she turns away.

"I'm mad at you Malfoy! And I needed you to know! I will not let you treat me like shit! I will not be too forgiving! You're a rotten best friend and I'm mad!" She shouts. He feels his heart break as he looks at the love of his life with tears in her eyes.

"Pansy you should leave," he states, looking at the sour girl on the sofa

"No. Stay. I've said all I want too," the girl cuts, before leaving, the door slamming on the way out.

Her finger pressed against the door bell tentatively. Having woken up tucked in her bed, unaware of how she actually got there she had avoided Slytherin's newest couple like the plague, sitting with her Ravenclaw friends on the train and leaving the platform as quick as possible.

But now, three days into summer break she couldn't deny how much she was missing her best friend. She wanted this whole thing behind them.

"Good morning miss y/l/n," a house elf greets, after the door is pulled open.

"Oh y/n, I didn't know you were coming over," Narcissa's familiar voice calls as she enters the hall from drawing room.

"Hey Aunty Cissa, I'm sorry for dropping by uninvited,"

"Nonsense, you're always welcome here sweetie, not that I've seen you yet since you got back," she assures, wrapping the girl in a warm hug.

"I was hoping to see Draco, we got in this silly fight and I wanted to come and apologise," I explain surprised he hasn't mentioned the fight to his mother.

"I'm sorry dear, Draco isn't spending his summer here, he's at his girlfriends, Pansy I think her name is. Did he not mention it to you it's been planned since may," she informs. Her heart drops at the news.

"No. No, he- he must have forgotten to mention it. I'll just be going then,"

"Nonsense, lets me and you have a catch up, you can tell me all about this fight so I can lecture my son for whatever stupid thing he's done," she smiles, the girl nods in agreement and allows Narcissa to lead her through to the conservatory.

Clad in a tshirt that belongs to her brother and a pair of pj shorts with cupcakes on. The girl lets out a groan as she drops back onto the bed behind her.

Reaching for the book on her bedside table, opening it and beginning to scan the page, re-reading sentences as she gets distracted in her own head, only minutes later interrupted by a knock at my door. She is surprised as none of her siblings or mum ever knock and she assumes the house elf will be preparing dinner. Perhaps it's her dad, he knocks whenever he comes in but it's rare he's not at work, maybe her mum mentioned how little she'd left her room all summer.

"Come in!" she calls, placing a book mark in her book and tossing it to the side

"Hi," the familiar voice sounds. Draco stands in front of the girl looking nervous as he closes the door behind him

"Hi," she states back, aware how scruffy she looks and not sure why she's embarrassed.

"Think we might be way overdue on a chat," he comments

"Shouldn't you be at Parkinson's?" She snaps

"I was hoping you would guess Zabini's," he comments

"Your mother told me," the girl informs, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest

"She mentioned she'd seen you,"

"Don't avoid the question,"

"Look Pansy doesn't matter right now. What matters is us. What's happened love?" He questions, moving closer

"Are you kidding me?"

"We've drifted so far apart, I don't know why, are you mad at me?"

"Yes I'm mad at you! When did you become a fucking idiot!" She shouts

"Why? Darling, what have I done?"

"You want a list! Cause there's a lot!" She's practically growling and he can't help but feel the temper rising up in his chest despite only really being mad at himself for hurting her.

"Oh go ahead!"

"You stopped waiting to go to breakfast with me! You stopped sitting with me at meals! You stopped meeting me before your quidditch games and left me to freeze cause I thought I'd be getting a jumper! You stopped coming to Wednesday night study sessions! You stopped dragging me away from our group to get butter beer when we are in Hogsmede! You stopped saving me the seat next to you! You stopped telling me anything! You spent the last night of term with her when we always spend it together! You stopped caring Draco!"

"Merlin, I got a girlfriend that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you!" He shouts back, he's walking closer to her, barely any space between them "why doesn't all that stuff matter so much?"

"Shit- Draco- I- it- I think I love you Draco and it fucking kills me to see you do all our stuff with her!" She admits, her eyes are teary as she stares at the floor, refusing to look at him.

It's instant, his heart erupts with joy as he takes her face in his hands, pulling her to him and pressing his lips on hers. She kisses back instantly, arms wrapping around his neck as he gently guided her back to press her back to the wall, hands roaming her body, scared he may never get the chance to feel it against his own again. Her fingers tugging gently on his hair.

He pulls away for breath, his heart skipping a heat at the sight of her, lips puffy and clothes dishevelled from him.

"I never stopped caring about you. I could never, ever, do that. I watched you at every meal to make sure you were eating enough. I left you a jumper at the end of your bed before every game, it was your choice not to wear them. I missed one, I'll admit it, but I went every week after and waited for you and you never came. I couldn't exactly pull you off on our own when Pansy was right there but I paid for your drink every time even though you thought it was Blaise. I always left a seat open next to me, you chose not to take it. You avoided me so much it was impossible to tell you anything and if you're talking about me not being here for summer I did tell you. I told you when I put you in bed on the last night of term, it's not my fault you got too drunk to remember. Well, I guess it is, I should have been there. I should have done and a lot, and I'm sorry,"

"Draco Malfoy I just told you I was in love with you. You wanna comment on that?"

"Darling, how can you not realise I've been in love with you my whole life?" He laughs, his lips on hers once more

"What about Pansy?" She questions, he rolls his eyes taking her hand and dragging her to lay on her bed next to him

"You're aware it's still summer right?" He questions, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around her, everything fits just right, feels natural.

"I'm not stupid,"

"And I'm here, when I should be spending the holiday at-"

"You guys broke up?" She questions, cringing at how excited she sounded

"Don't sound too happy about it,"

"I just told you I'm in love it's you Dray, clearly there's only one person I want you to be in a relationship with," she smiles, rolling over to face him

"There's only one person I would want to be in a relationship with," he smiles back

"I'll let Goyle know, he'll be ecstatic to hear you feel the same," she teases. He laughs rolling his eyes before pressing his lips to hers again.

Masterlist

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction

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badassxbirdy · 2 years

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November Activity Update (Pinned Post)

It’s time once again for the monthly activity update! If you’re new here: these monthly posts help me to keep track of what the frick I’ve been doing, particularly when tumblr breaks or the brainfog strikes. We skipped last month, so this update includes things posted or in drafts for September and October. Everything else can be found over on my thread tracker (here) or in previous monthly updates which can be found under this tag.

The full activity update (along with OOC house keeping) is below the cut. Bold text = links.

If you want to see all IC interactions without the other stuff, click here. If you’d like to start something new, click here. You can also add Ty on Wire for IC texting.

Now onto the update!

OOC Housekeeping:

I now have a side blog for ooc things. So if you’re ever wondering what’s happening with me and/or my activity level, mini updates will be posted on @birdy-ooc from now on. Monthly updates will still be posted here.

October was the 10 year burritoversary, aka the anniversary of when mine and Rook’s friendship began! ❤️ We are OLD my dudes. If you aren’t following him, you should correct that immediately. Everyone needs a Rookito in their lives.

If you missed my mini updates, things have been a little bit bonkers on the family front. I’m going to be back and forth between home, my mums house, and my nans house. The queue is now set to post twice a day until things settle down.

Threads, replies, and other IC interactions:

(In alphabetical order by username)

Being a little shit at the bar (link) - @blutschatten

Car trouble (queued) - @demcnsinmymind

At the motel (drafted) - @demcnsinmymind

Cannibal ghosts (drafted) - @derschwarzeengel

Damon shields Ty (link) - @derschwarzeengel

In jail (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Making their escape (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Giant bugs? (link) - @derschwarzeengel

“Get out of there, he’s a priest.” (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Ty finds Vampire!Damon (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Stab wounds and attempting kicking. (link) - @diicktective

Meeting Hook (drafted) - @hvbris (Hook)

Ty is very confused. 😂 (link) - @hvbris (Wednesday)

At the motel with FBI!Fish (link) - @imprvdente

Image starter meme (drafted) - @indyflanery

Monster encounter (queued) - @lcbcshcart

Disappearing teens (queued) - @magaprima

Sweet murder boy interrupts punching. (link) - @nightiingaled (Killian)

Soft babies! (link) - @nightiingaled (Eli)

“Are you following me?” (queued) - @normallyxstranger (Jamie)

No such thing as too much sauce (drafted) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

“Does it still hurt?” (drafted) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

“I was just trying to help.” (link)- @normallyxstranger (Casey)

Incorrect quote starters (link) - @normallyxstranger (Jamie)

Banishment gone wrong (link) - @normallyxstranger (Victor)

How many fingers (link) - @normallyxstranger (Tabitha)

Get down (link) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

Under pressure (link) - @normallyxstranger (Casey)

“You’re blaming me?” - End of thread (link) - @normallyxstranger Carla

Not supposed to be here (drafted) - @razorfst

Ty meets Kiara (link) - @thatevester

Food prompt meme (link) - @wraith-of-christmas-future

Headcanon, dash games, crack, and assorted silliness:

Reflect meme - the hunter incident (link)

Burritoversary! (link)

Rook made me a beautiful promo and I am cry. (link)

Damon is no longer allowed to look in Mel’s direction (link) and is still on Ty’s shitlist. (link) 😂

High school au? High school au! 😱 My description is still incoming, but Rooks is here! (link)

Tyler is very concerned for the gh*ul boys. (link)

I believe that’s everything, apart from the headcanon memes which I still have not done but shhhhhh about that. If I’ve missed anything else then please do let me know!

I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween. Stay safe, and hydrate your flesh prison. ❤️ —Em

#activity update

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ugh-againwiththenames · 3 years

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So Many Fanfics So Little Time

This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!). I’m not a writer. But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic.

Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so.

Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends.

As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT. When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?). So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*).

I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago. A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all).

These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them). So let’s get to it, shall we?

Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.

Author(s): gabriel, standbyme https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188

Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read. I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row). There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all). Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever. You feel me? no? go read it.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW. OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day. Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out. LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed). There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE.

Author: bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree. this is the Memory Loss one. I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day. Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.

Author: sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help. Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll). It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read.

Author: sysrae https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227

Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?). Would Recommend.

Author: squeemonster https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747

The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist. I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN. I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean

Author: Askance (doomcountry) https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you?

Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145

Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way). It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM.

Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311

Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter. And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.

Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491

Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story. ESL writer, no judgement. I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi. Miscommunication leading to realization.

Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816

Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean. If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it.

Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444

Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story. When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do?

Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288

A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.

Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925

Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going.

Author: Valinde (Valyria) https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591

Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies. Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me.

Author: obstinatrix https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289

Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend.

Author: Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962

Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together. I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...

Author: Bexism https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398

The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now.

Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127

Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas). It’s a super cute little story.

Author: pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631

The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas. This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it.

Author: KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519

Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU. Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478

Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know).

Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836

Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty.

Author: lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551

A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story. I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think.

Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232

Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.

Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217

More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)

Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away Author: Chiyume https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327

You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910

Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) - - Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song - cute short - no sexual content Author: green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit Author: n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827

Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086 - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn - Short (very short)

It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519 The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099 - cute short post GISH zoom - oops "babe, really?"

(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...

Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646 - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves

And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872

Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810 - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2) - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3) - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4)

Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421

Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118

No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966

Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792

Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717

Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434

All about control - wingless https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243

Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544 - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant

Let's take a drive - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581

Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530

The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804

The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970

The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183

According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901 - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles

Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776

Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378

gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291

memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159

tall grass - aeli_kindara https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726

asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115

Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680

we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503

In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785

my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951

Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300

The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169

tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450

It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322

So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592

Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916

In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655

When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845 - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood

A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561

A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167

r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783

sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624

Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765

Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677

Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209

The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133

Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008 - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos

Riptides - sharkfish https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556

Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340 - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo) - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo) - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo) - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo) - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo) - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)

Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794 - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent

Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474

Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486

The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840

Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989

I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234

Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720

#fics #fic recs #fanfiction #ao3 #cockles #destiel #dean and cas #jensen and misha #one track mind #supernatural #please send me recs #read more fics #this is my new obsession

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