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#i'm shaking a little maybe it's not a good idea to drink the third coffee later
dracwife · 1 year
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pedantic.
ship: about this dream & you → mickey/tim
word count: 960
summary: Tony settles an argument between Mimi and Tim. Based on a little idea I had for those pre-case interactions we see<3
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The elevator dings, and Tony checks his watch. 8:45, that should mean that…
"Tony, I'm not pedantic, am I?"
"Good morning, Timmy," he smiles. Right on cue. 
"Right?"
Tony pauses, squints. He looks Tim over curiously, the way his backpack is slung over his shoulder half-hearted, his jacket draped over his arm. His annoyed, pleading face staring down at him, mouth slightly agape. Tim shakes his head and furrows his brows, waiting for an answer.
"Not at all, my dear friend. Why ever would you think such a thing?" Tony finally leans back in his chair, offering the other agent a moment to let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Thank you!" he huffs, and continues towards his desk, dropping his bag and retrieving his things from his desk drawers. He shakes his head in disbelief, disgruntlement.
"He asks because that's what I told him he is," the third voice joins them finally, "It was very mean of you not to hold the elevator for me."
"Oh," Tony sighs, watching the dark haired man round the corner into the bullpen.
"Mickey called you pedantic?"
"Because he is."
"Tony said I'm not," Tim gestures towards him, almost like a child, desperate to win the argument.
Tony grimaces, "Actually, he's right. You are pedantic. Like, so, totally, very extremely pedantic. All the time."
"What?" Tim's voice almost cracks. His head turns toward his friend, confused and possibly betrayed, "I am not!"
"Like a middle-aged school teacher with a classroom full of over-hyped kiddies holding a stack of worksheets and an eternal grudge over stolen youth, my friend." 
"You just said I wasn't!"
"I lied," Tony offers gently.
"Why would you lie to my face?"
"You see, McMeticulous, it's a bit like picking on those same little middle school kiddies. You bully the same one for so long, it gets a little boring," Tony tilts his head, offers an apologetic gaze, "You almost get to feeling bad for the kid after a couple of years, cause he never fights back. You throw him a bone once in a while."
"This is unbelievable! What else have you lied to me about?"
"Oh, so much, Tim. But it made you feel nice every time, didn't it?" Tony's words cover his laugh for a moment, but that toothy grin that grows as he speaks still shines through. 
"You see, Tony, this morning," Mickey exaggerates every word, "I couldn't find my hairbrush. So instead of wasting our time, lest we be late --" his head snaps towards Tim, who's now sat carefully at his desk, glaring back, "I just borrowed my dear boyfriend of nearly six years', you know, assuming that because we've been together so long," the pitch of his voice slowly rises, "Maybe he wouldn't mind so much. But apparently in doing-so I committed some heinous sin against humanity!"
"I just don't like when people borrow my brush, okay?"
"Tim, for god's sake we share a bed! We share clothes! We share pillows and hats and we drink from the same coffee cup every morning! Oh my god, we even shared a toothbrush when you left yours at home on that case in Florida last month! And I can name a million other things we share besides that, but to be quite honest with you I don't think Tony wants to hear about those."
"Maybe I do," his voice chimes in.
"I don't," the final voice interrupts them.
"Gibbs, would you please tell Tim he's being ridiculous?"
The man in question rounds the corner, and makes his way to his own desk, quietly. He looks over towards Mickey with a smile, and tilts his head for a second, that sort of half-head shake he's so used to being given.
"I just don't like people moving my things, okay? And…It's a very expensive brush. And Mickey has very…Tough knots when he gets out of the shower sometimes. It's made for gentle hair."
"Expensive gentle-hair-only brush? That's…So very McGee of you, McGee," Tony mumbles, his brows furrowed in confusion. 
"And so pedantic. It's not even an insult. It's just fact."
"And you --" Tim turns to Mickey, "I didn't hold the elevator because you stopped to get coffee." His voice lowers, "I'm sorry."
"Well, it was still mean," the other pouts, and passes cups to the other two agents, and places another on Ziva's empty desk in the assumption she'd be in at any moment before finally approaching the corner where he and Tim's desks sit, touching in some sort of broken L, in perhaps the most ironic and sickeningly-cute ways they could have possibly been arranged; And in six years, neither of them had ever questioned it. Mickey holds out the last cup to his boyfriend.
"You still got me coffee?" Tim looks up at him. Those stupid puppy eyes, Mickey could never resist them, and he almost hates himself for it.
"Well…Yeah. I've never not gotten you coffee, no matter how mad I am at you. Besides, you're gonna give it to me in three sips anyways. You always do."
Tim almost smiles, and takes the cup.
"Thank you."
Mickey shrugs, and tries to hide his grin back. Tim glances over at their boss, who seems preoccupied with whatever was on his monitor at that moment. He glances to the side, where Tony sits relaxed, inspecting his coffee. He glances towards the elevator, where he sees Ziva finally joining them. Then he looks towards Mickey, who has finally sat down, and propped his feet onto his desk, keyboard in his lap, and checking his email. Tim pulls up his own, enters the recipient, and types out just three words before hitting send.
Mickey blinks, puzzled for a moment. Clicks something. 
And then he smiles.
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lipstickstainz · 3 years
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true lies - s. r. (14/15)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.
Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?
Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.
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previous chapter
You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.
"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"
All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.
You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.
"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.
With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.
"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.
"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.
"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.
"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.
"How do you know how to do that?“, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.
You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.
"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.
You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.
"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.
"I thought we were friends."
You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.
Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.
-
You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.
As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.
"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.
You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."
Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."
„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."
"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.
"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"
He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.
"You can't avoid it, Spence."
You'd rather he'd gone home.
The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.
JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.
"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"
"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."
You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.
"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.
You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“
"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"
You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."
You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."
"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."
Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."
You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"
You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."
You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.
-
Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.
The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.
Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.
Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.
"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"
Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."
She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."
Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."
The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.
"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.
"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.
The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.
For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.
He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.
Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.
"Y/N."
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bi-bard · 3 years
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Milkshakes - Team Free Will Imagine (Supernatural)
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Title: Milkshakes
Pairing: Team Free Will X Platonic!Fem!Reader (as put in the request)
Requested: @gabrielasilva1510
Word Count: 1,846 words
Warning(s): violence, death
Summary: [Early Season 11 (Before Episode 10)] Sam and Dean think that there's something that can be The Darkness. Castiel warns them but... who knows? Maybe God's ultimate weapon isn't as scary as it seems.
Author's Note: I used dodie for outfit inspiration because the outfit matched the vibe but change it if you want. I only used a female read because it's in the request and it helped with clarity because the whole imagine is in 3rd person (I do usually use they/them pronouns in my work). Finally, I thought the milkshake flavor sounded good, but you can change it in your mind if you want to.
Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)
----------------------------------------
--Third Person P.O.V--
Sam was leaning over a lore book in the library. It was too early for him to be so focused on the book but he felt like he needed to. The Darkness being released was his fault, he needed to find a solution.
Dean walked in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and was clearly still half-asleep. He sat across from his brother.
"What're you reading," Dean grumbled out in between sips of coffee.
"I found this book about the most powerful beings," Sam explained. "Most of them are just rumored to exist but I thought it'd give us a jumping-off point on where to find something to help us defeat Amara."
"Anything interesting," Dean asked.
"A Nephilim; kid of an angel and a human," Sam said. "There's no mention that they could kill someone as powerful as God. Then there's..."
Sam trailed off and went back through the book, hunting for a particular page he had read nearly an hour ago. He pointed to the page once he found it.
"This doesn't even have a name but it describes a creature created by God to be a weapon," Sam explained. "I was doing some snooping on some message boards when I first found out about it. There's a lot of religious nuts and self-proclaimed hunters who think this thing is gonna be the end of the world. They say it's a prophecy that can't be stopped."
"And you think hunting it down is a good idea," Dean asked.
"Listen, I don't think it's fair to think this thing wants to end the world," Sam replied. "I think it's the best choice we have right now."
"Alright, fine, where do we look," Dean asked.
The boys didn't have to look far before Castiel popped into the library. He asked where they had gotten on their path to defeat Amara. His eyes went wide when they explained what they wanted to do.
"Are you two insane," Castiel asked.
"Listen-"
"No, I know more about this than either of you," the angel stopped Dean's argument. "This creature could kill you both with a look and end the world with a flick of the wrist and you want to track it down?!"
"Isn't it worth trying," Sam asked.
"'Trying,'" Castiel was so unbelievable done with the idiotic decisions of the Winchesters at that point.
"If we don't try something, then Amara kills all of us anyways," Dean said. "We need something Cas. This could be the thing."
Castiel sighed, letting his head fall forward for a moment before looking back up at the boys.
"Fine," Castiel threw his hands up. "Do you know how to find this thing?"
"Looks like a spell," Sam turned the book so Castiel could look at the page. "We should have everything. It's strange no one's tried-"
"Succeeded," Castiel corrected. "People have probably tried if the spell is so simple."
"Okay, good, let's get the supplies and give it a shot," Dean clapped his hands and stood up.
In a matter of minutes, the boys and their angel were back around the table and ready to start the spell.
Castiel and Dean jumped when Sam grabbed a knife and nicked his hand.
"One of us needs to be bonded," Sam explained. "Like a human compass. It feels right that it's me."
He didn't wait for the other two to respond before he started reading the spell of the book. Castiel and Dean exchanged a look for a moment.
As he finished the spell, a purple flame shot up from the bowl for a second. Sam felt his arm tingling from the wound up. He shook it out, trying to understand what it was telling him.
States over, a young girl, a college student visiting home, is sitting in a booth at a small diner.
In between page turns, she sits up straight. Her eyes flash the same purple as the flame from the spell before she snaps out of the trance.
She looks around. Everything feels different. It's like the air had shifted around her. She furrowed her eyebrows... what the hell was that?
--time skip--
Dean pulled the impala up to the curb of the street. The three of them look at the nice house. White picket fence, two stories, a garden.
"Are you sure about this," Dean asked Sam. "This seems like a pretty normal house."
Sam nodded, "I can feel it. It's here."
"Alright, let's go," Dean replied.
The three of them got out of the car and made their way up the pathway. None of them knew what fight they were going to get once they opened that door. It could've been a deadly fight. They may not have even had a chance to fight.
Still, with one last silent check with the others, Dean lifted his hand and knocked on the door.
The last thing they expected was for a girl to open the door with a wide smile. She had a white dress on with an orange cardigan over the top.
"Hello," she said happily. "What can I help you with?"
"Sam," Dean looked at his brother. Sam just nodded. He could feel it in his gut. "What's your name?"
"(Y/n)," the girl replied. "And you are?"
"I'm Sam," the taller man answered. "This is Dean and Cas."
"Nice to meet you," she held a hand out.
Sam awkwardly accepted, shaking her hand. They both froze, eyes flashing purple before they both stepped back from each other.
"That was weird," (Y/n) mumbled, frowning at her hand. "What was that?"
The boys looked at each other but before they could speak, there was a crash from inside the house. The girl jumped.
"Who's that," Dean asked.
"I don't know," she replied. "My parents are gone. No one else is supposed to be here."
Sam and Dean grabbed their guns before all of them walked inside.
Before they could get any answers for themselves, an angel rounded the corner and tried to grab (Y/n), who ran behind the others as soon as she saw the angel.
She stumbled backward toward the wall in shock and fear. She covered her mouth as the more angels walked into her living, not that she knew that's who they were.
Sam, Dean, and Cas were getting thrown around.
"Stop," Sam yelled as they walked toward (Y/n).
"We need something to defeat the Darkness," one of the angels said. "This is our option. Thank you for leading us to her."
(Y/n) was shaking more as she listened. The Darkness? Why was she so important to them? To the boys or the others who had broken into her house?
"Come on, (Y/n)," one of the angels had a hand out to her. She shook her head and the angel chuckled. "Fine. Make this harder."
The others came running at her.
"No," she yelled, dropping to the ground, and covering herself with her arms.
A pulse of energy shot out. The angels that had broken in had burned in front of her.
Dean, Sam, and Cas looked at each other.
(Y/n) slowly looked up from where she was.
"Hey," Sam walked over, kneeling next to her. "You alright?"
"What was that," she asked, shaking. "Who are you? Who were they? What did I do?"
"Hey, hey," Sam touched the girl's shoulders. "It's alright. Hey... how about we go somewhere to calm down? How about some food, yeah? Is there a restaurant nearby or something?"
She nodded. Sam helped her stand up fully and led her to the impala. Dean and Cas sat in the front while Sam and (Y/n) took the backseat.
(Y/n) rambled about a small diner nearby, giving Dean quick directions before falling silent again.
The four of them took a booth in the farthest back corner. (Y/n) sat leaning against the wall, Sam next to her and Cas and Dean across from her.
"Umm... do you know what you want," Sam asked quietly, making (Y/n) aware of the waitress there.
She was an old friend, "You alright, (Y/n)?"
"Yeah," (Y/n) nodded. "I'm just a little tired. Umm... can I get a cherry vanilla milkshake?"
"That it for you, dear," the waitress checked. (Y/n) nodded with a grin, playing with the end of her cardigan's sleeves.
The waitress took the other three's orders before walking away.
"Who were those people," (Y/n) asked. "Why did they break into my house?"
"Because God made you a weapon," Cas said bluntly, making (Y/n)'s eyes go wide.
"A weapon?"
"He means," Dean jumped in, "you have powers that you don't know about. That's why you were able to get rid of those angels."
"Those were angels," she tried to keep her voice down. They all nodded. "I thought angels were supposed to be good?"
"They are supposed to follow orders," Cas corrected. "Not all of them are good."
She nodded, "Are you guys angels?"
"No, well, Sam and I aren't," Dean pointed between him and his brother. "Cas is."
"Oh," she muttered. "You're not-"
"I'm not gonna force you to go to heaven to defeat the Darkness," Cas promised.
"The Darkness," she said. "What's that? Why do I need to fight it?"
"The Darkness is... kind of our fault," Sam explained. "She's trying to create a new world in her image, which includes destroying this one."
"So, how'd you find me," she asked.
Before they could answer, the waitress came back, dropping off their food and drinks. (Y/n) leaned forward and took a sip of her milkshake and grinned to herself for a moment.
The boys were so confused. This was God's weapon?
"Well, Dean and I are hunters," Sam continued once (Y/n) back over to him. "We hunt monsters. Our grandpa was part of this group, the Men of Letters. They have a book in their collection that talks about you. There was a spell that led us to you."
She nodded but furrowed her eyebrows. Monsters? God? Hunters? After what had happened today, she struggled to deny all of it but was still hesitant to believe them?
"Well, if the Darkness knows I can defeat... her... won't she be looking for me too," (Y/n) asked.
"We can keep you safe," Dean promised.
"You're sure?"
"As sure as possible," he nodded.
(Y/n) looked down for a moment, "Okay. I'll go with you. I just... I need to get some stuff from my house and tell my parents that I'll be gone."
"You can't tell them where you're going or why," Dean said. "It'll put them in danger."
She bit her lip, "If it saves them in the long run, fine."
(Y/n) asked a lot more questions that day as they ate in the diner. They told her about monsters and the big bads they had faced. Monsters' weaknesses and abilities. Their other hunting buddies. People she could trust.
Sam, Dean, and Cas trusted her immediately. They felt like they needed to. Like she was a person to rely on.
And there- over a cherry vanilla milkshake- (Y/n) watched her entire life change forever.
----------------------------------------
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strongerthanafork · 3 years
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More Than Metal
Gavin Reed x Android!Reader: Part 2
Warnings: cursing, guns, alcohol use, crime scene, blood
Part 1
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Analyzing Sample…
[Analysis Complete]
Sample Contains:
Thirium 310: 96%
Blood: 2%
Human Plasma: 2%
Analyzing Thirium…
Model ID - AP400
Serial Number: #495 345 12-8
"The fuck are you doing?" Gavin interjects. (Y/N) looks over at him as she kneels at the puddle of blue blood, fingers to her lips. VN opens her mouth to speak but Gavin holds up a hand. "Y'know what? I don't wanna know." Reed scoffs walking into another room.
○ Follow Detective Reed
□ Contiune to Investigate
● Follow Detective Reed
(Y/N) stands, following Gavin from a distance. Gavin glances around the blood stained apartment. "This is so gruesome shit." He mutters. VN tilts her head.
○ Question tactics
□ Urge him to continue working
◇ Leave to investigate in another room
X Continue to follow
■ Urge him to continue working
"Detective, I believe we should collect evidence. You seem distracted." (Y/N) states, hands behind her back. Gavin glares at the android. "You don't get to order me around, plastic." He grits.
○ Question tactics
◇ Leave to investigate another room
X Contiune to follow
X Contiune to follow
(Y/N) remains silent LED flashing blue. Gavin shakes his head kneeling down to inspect the floor where the victim was killed. (Y/N) stares at the blood splatter on the walls.
Analyzing Splatter…
[Information Acquired]
WEAPON: Kitchen knife
ANGLE: 43.2°
VN blinks. "The deviant was an AP400 model, a caretaker. It lived here with it's owners." Gavin looks up at (Y/N). "And how do you know that?" He ponders aloud. "I analyzed a sample of thiruim, there," She says, pointing to the floor. Gavin cringes. "That's fuckin' gross." He murmers. "The deviant was injured. It's blood was mixed with the victims, meaning, it couldn't have gotten far." (Y/N) explains. "We should proceed to the station to interrogate the survivors." She says. "I thought you said we needed to collect evidence." Gavin says, crossing his arms as he stands. "We have gathered enough information from this location." (Y/N) concludes. Gavin laughs, mockingly. "Look at you, smarty pants." Gavin teases, getting a confused blank expression from the android. "Never-fucking-mind. Let's go, dipshit." Gavin growls, walking out. (Y/N) hesitates, wanting to ask him if he was angry with her. That didn't matter. Why did she care?
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Gavin walks through the automatic doors of the DPD. He heads by his terminal throwing his keys on the desktop. Hank watches the two walk back in. "Hello again, (Y/N)." Connor says, nodding at her. He smiled. VN nods at him. Androids weren't programmed to smile. Where they? "Good afternoon, Connor." She says, flatly. Hank snorts, grabbing her attention. "I fail to see what is humorous about our interaction, Lieutenant." She says, eyeing Anderson. Hank raises his hands as if he were surrendering, turning back to his computer. "Fuckin' androids." He mutters. "Would you hurry the fuck up? I don't have all day." Gavin says, impatiently tapping is foot on the floor. "Yes, detective." (Y/N) obeys. Connor's LED swirls yellow as he watches her go. "I have an unknown feeling." Connor says to Hank. "I think you may be worried, kiddo." Hank says, frowning. "And you wanna know somethin'?" Hank says, leaning towards Connor. "Me too."
Gavin huffs, slumping down in his desk chair, spinning around mindlessly. (Y/N) watches him, eyes following him as he spins. Gavin stops, glaring at her. "What did I say about the fuckin' staring, tin can?" He complains. "I apologize." VN says, looking somewhere else for his comfort. "Fuck it." Gavin announces. "I'm going home." He says, getting up from his chair. "I beleive we still have work to do, detective." VN says, her LED swirling blue. "Yeah well, Fowler can bitch at me tomorrow about it." He says, walking past her. VN quickly follows him. "I do not believe it is wise to leave your work unfinished." She says, referring to the stack of paperwork on his desk. She watches him swipe his card to clock out. He doesn't say away but holds his middle fingers up at her, with a strange expression. VN watches him exit. Her LED swirls yellow.
○ Follow Detective Reed
□ Stay at the Precinct
● Follow Detective Reed
(Y/N) walks through the automatic doors, following Gavin out to his car. Gavin glances over his shoulder, seeing her following him. He groans, stopping at his car. "What do you want?" He demands, unlocking his car. She stands on the other side of his car.
"I was assigned to help and assist you. I do not think leaving work to drink is a good idea, so I will be going with you to the bar." VN says, opening the car door and getting inside. Gavin stands there, mouth open. "Wait a damn minute." He protests, bending down to look at her sitting in the car. "You ain't doing shit! Get the fuck out." He orders. "I'm afriad I cannot comply, sir. According to your current physical and mental health, drinking alone could put you in danger." VN says, maintaining eyecontact. "Get out." Gavin says again. He wants to pull out his gun and shoot her brains out but something in him doesn't have the strength too. He's tired.
Yet another silent drive. Gavin's radio is turned up on a dangerously high level. VN isn't bothered but is worried about the effect on her partners ears. She concludes it is best to not comment, due to his recent outbursts. Gavin pulls up to Jimmy's, a local bar, and parks his car. Gavin opens the car door, putting his keys in his jacket. VN exits after locking the car doors. She walks behind the detective, deducting that he didn't want her by his side. She notices the package of cigarettes sticking out of his pocket. She assumes he has a lighter as well, somewhere on his person. 
Scanning...
[Jacket Scan Complete]
FELINE HAIR: 
• Burmese
• Chartreux
OTHER:
• Zippo Lighter (Sliver) 
    • Engraving: "Love you little bro. -Elijah"
• Cigarettes (Marlboro 12ct.)
• Car Keys (To: Camaro, Model: 2023)
• Stain - Front: Coffee (2 days old)
• Stain - Collar: Lacrimation from tear ducts
VN stops analyzing as they enter the bar. Gavin exhales, pretending he isn't being followed by a tin can. (Y/N) looks around. It's dimly lit, quiet. Music plays and it smells of alcohol, cigarettes, and cigars. She puts her hands behind her back, following Gavin to the bar. He pulls out a stool, hopping on top. A bartender, assumed to be Jimmy, saunters over to her partner. VN stands close to a wall, analyzing every detail of the bar. "Hey, kid." Jimmy says to Gavin. VN attempts to give Gavin privacy with the bartender but can't exactly turn off her sensors. " 'Sup." Gavin sighs, leaning against the bar. Jimmy chuckles, glancing at the out of place android against the wall. "That yours?" He teases, gesturing to (Y/N). "Don't give me that, J." Gavin scoffs. Jimmy laughs, boisterously. Gavin can't help but smile a little. Jimmy was pretty cool and he gave great philosophical advice. 
"Watcha want to drink, son?" Jimmy asks, turning to the wall of drinks. "Brandy on the rocks." Gavin says, pulling out his box of cigarettes and his lighter. Jimmy sighs. "Rough day, huh." He says, pouring his drink. (Y/N) watches carefully. She started to get an unknown sensation across multiple sensors in her being. She scanned herself for malfunction or errors. Nothing. VN tilts her head to herself. What was that sensation? It wasn't an error or a malfunction? Possibly a glitch. She shakes it off watching the detective. The sensation returns. She attempts to flush her systems, but it remains. She ignores it, concluding it was a glitch. "You can say that again." Gavin says. Jimmy slides him his drink watching him closely. "You look tired, kiddo." Jimmy comments, leaning against the other side of the countertop. Gavin chuckles. "Everyone says that. I'm fine, J." Gavin lies. "C'mon, Gavin. Talk to me. It's a slow night." Jimmy pries. Gavin sighs, lighting the cigarette between his fingers. He raises it to his lips, taking a drag. He looks down at his drink.
VN glances around the room, unintentionally listening. The sensation had left. She wasn't alive. She couldn't feel. It was a simple glitch. "It's been hard without him." Gavin says, taking a sip of his brandy. This peaks VN's intrest. "I know. You seem to care about him a lot." Jimmy responds. He must know more than she knows about the situation. Gavin glances at the android that accompanied him, downing his drink. Jimmy sighs again. "Is that thing givin' you trouble?" He asks, grabbing the glass to refill it. Gavin takes another drag of his cigarette. "Yeah it is. Fuckin' Fowler assigned it to me or whatever." Gavin says, words full of spite. VN feels the sensation return. Her LED blinks yellow.
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Analyzing...
[Analysis Complete]
Malfunction?
[Access Denied]
(Y/N) blinks, LED pulsing red. She straightens her posture, ignoring the sensation, yet again. Jimmy nods, following Gavin's story. Gavin takes a swig of his drink again. "You two get along?" Jimmy asks, tapping on the counter behind him. "Fuck no." Gavin snickers. Jimmy smiles, almost sadly. "The things been following me around like a dog. Gets on my fuckin' nerves." Gavin sighs, finishing his second glass. (Y/N) notes his blood alcohol content. Jimmy grins at the detective. "Maybe she's there to help you. Ever thought about it that way?" J asks, grabbing his empty glass again, pausing. "Oh, that's utter bullshit. Don't side with them, Jimmy." Gavin spits, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bar. "I'm only sayin', maybe it's there for a reason, kid. You look like shit. It could help you, y'know." Jimmy shrugs, filling his glass again. Gavin snorts, feeling the buzz kick it. "Thanks, J. How nice." Gavin teases. "Give it a chance, Gav." Jimmy pushes. "No way in hell am I trusting a piece of plastic." Gavin argues, gladly accepting his third drink. (Y/N) decides to step in. "Detective," She starts. "Fuck off." Gavin grits, waving his hand at her. Jimmy watches the two. "I beleive you've had enough." She states, hands behind her back still. "This is only my third so fuck off." Gavin growls. He usually had a better alcohol tolerance but not today.
"Your BAC is nine point two and increasing. This can impair your judgement and functioning." (Y/N) says. Gavin laughs. "You're not my babysitter, tin can." He says, lifting the glass to his lips. VN snatches the glass out of his hand, putting it on the bar. "What the fuck?" Gavin hollers, clambering out of his chair, almost falling in the process. "The alcohol had already taken affect, impairing your vital judgment. It is time to leave, sir." (Y/N) says, sternly. Her LED blinks yellow, analyzing his next move. Gavin reaches for his gun, which VN anticipated. She reaches forwards, knocking the gun out of his hands. "Hey, hey, hey!" Jimmy shouts. "No blood on my floor!" He says. A few people have formed a crowd around Gavin and the android. "Detective, we are leaving." (Y/N) says, picking his gun off the floor and pocketing it. "You fuckin' piece of shit," Gavin slurs. "You think you came come in and- and fuckin' steal my job, huh?" He raises his voice, grabbing her by her uniform again. (Y/N) looks down at him. She notes the pain, evident behind is glassy eyes.
○ Let Detective Reed continue 
□ Render Detective Reed unconscious
■ Render Detective Reed unconscious
"Detective, I apologize, but this is for your own good." She says, gaining a confused look from Gavin. She presses her fingers into the point where his neck and shoulder meet. Gavin crumbles to the ground, (Y/N) catching him before he hits the ground. VN wraps his limp arm over her shoulders, hoisting him up. "I apologize, sir." She says to Jimmy. "Eh, don't worry about it. His drinks were on the house anyway." Jimmy says, waving her off. "Take care of him, okay?" Jimmy says. (Y/N)'s thiruim pump falters for a moment, catching her off guard. She scans herself again, not finding anything wrong. The crowd had disappeared, seeing that there would be no fight. She gives Jimmy at curt nod before bascially dragged her partner out the door.
(Y/N) had successfully put Gavin in the passenger seat, starting his car. She pulls out into the road. She had located the detective's apartment, following the coordinates. Once she arrives, Gavin is still unconscious. She drags him out of the car. It would be easier to carry him in her arms, so she does. Walking up several flights of stairs, she reaches his apartment door. She glances down at the keys on his key ring and then at the lock, analyzing the differnt key prongs and the internal structure of the lock. She selects the correct key, unlocking the door. Several cats, greet her at the door. A Burmese and a Chartreux cat. They purr and meow at her as she closes the door. (Y/N) scans the apartment. It's quite messy. The trash seems as if it hasn't been taken out in weeks, pizza boxes litter the counter and differnt files and papers litter the living room. (Y/N) contiunes, walking into Gavin's bedroom. Clothes cover the floor, along with an unmade bed. She sets her partner in the bed. She surveys the room again, finding the comforter on the ground. She nods to herself.
(Y/N) carefully removes his jacket, hanging it on a hook behind his bedroom door. She covers him with the comforter, studying him. He seems peaceful. His face, relaxed. No tension is held between is eyebrows. She tilts her head, reaching towards his face. There it is. The strange sensation in her sensors. She gently brushes his hair out of his eyes, almost mesmerized by how peaceful he is, compared to when he's consious. (Y/N) quickly pulls away as he rolls over in the bed, grunting in his sleep. She looks around his room again. It was very unorganized. She walks over to his half empty dresser, pushing the folded clothes back in order. She closes the drawers, gently. VN then, straightens the differnt colognes and pictures frames on his dresser. One catches her eyes. A picture of, what she assumes is Gavin as a teen, and another male. She tilts her head, the male seeming familiar. She straightens the frame, ignoring it.
VN picks up the dirty clothes off the floor, placing them in the hamper in the corner of Gavin's room. She could see the floor now. She turns off the lamp on his nightstand, straightening the things on top if it as well. She looks around the mostly clean room, leaving Gavin's room. She then drags the overflowing laundry basket out of his room. She closes the door behind her, seeing his cats staring at her. She looks down at the Burmese one as it rubs against her leg. She watches them pad off into another room. (Y/N) looks down the short hallway seeing the bathroom. She peeks inside. It was spotless. Strange. She walks into an empty room, what she assumes to be a guest room. It holds nothing. She walks out, going back to the main living room. Papers, magazines, files, newspapers. You name it. She grabs the file box in the couch, picking up all the papers and files, organizing them alphabetically. It took all but thirty minutes an twenty seconds. She puts the file box beside the couch. She puts all of the magazines and newspapers neatly on the coffee table. She picks up all of the empty and half empty coffee mugs, placing them softly in the sink. She would load his dishwasher later. 
(Y/N) straightens his crooked TV on the wall. She then proceeds to organize his movies by type, then alphabetically. The living room was finished. She clicks on the lamp, closing the curtains. The sun was setting outside. It was six twenty-two. Androids didn't need sleep but she decided that when she finishes she would enter low-power mode to pass the time. She heads to the kitchen. It was filthy. (Y/N)'s LED circles blue. She grabs all of the dishes that were dirty and puts them neatly in the dishwasher. She puts the soap in, turning it on. She grabs a trash bag, placing the numerous empty pizza boxes inside. She empties the trash putting the bags by the front door. The cats come back in, hearing her working. "Hello." (Y/N) says, kneeling beside the cats. She looks at their collars. Coco and Bean. Who knew the detective liked cats, owned them, and gave them matching names. (Y/N) stands, beginning to wipe down the countertops, that were dusty and covering in crumbs. She puts the leftover pizza that wasn't old or moldy in the almost empty refrigerator. She rolls up her jacket sleeves disinfecting the grime in the sink. She notices his landlines blinking on the counter. She lets the chemical sit in the sink, walking over to the phone. Twenty new messages from the same number with the name Eli. She concludes it would be best to leave them be. 
(Y/N) had loaded the washing machine with Gavin's dirty clothes. She had taken the towel from the dryer and folded them neatly, placing them in the linen closet. She rinses the sink next. Spotless. The apartment looked organized and neat. Nothing like the detective from the outside. It was currently twelve forty three. She blinks, hearing the dishwasher stop. She unloads it putting the coffe mugs, plates and utensils back in their respective places. Ealier, she had hauled the trash down to the dumpster behind the apartment complex. She was satisfied with the outcome.
(Y/N) completed all of the detective's laundry leaving it neatly folded ontop of the washer and dryer. She didn't want to disturb his slumber by putting away his clothes. She was finished. VN puts the detective's gun in a drawee in the kitchen. She walks over to the couch, sitting down. The cats jumps up, one testing in her lap and the other lying down beside her. She was interested in why the cats liked her so much. She'd have to research it later. She decided to enter low-power mode.
Low-Power Mode Loading...
[Entering Low-Power Mode]
3...
2...
1...
-LOW-POWER MODE ON-
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the shrooms cafe
part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba
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hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!
this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)
shrooms cafe masterlist
my masterlist
warnings: none
word count: 2k
"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.
"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft
music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.
-----
After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.
-----
“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”
She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"
"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.
She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.
----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.
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George Weasley — Wonder Part 2
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PART 1: READ
Summary: Following George's perspective, follow on a journey where he realizes his feelings towards you is more than what best friends should feel.
Words: 3,893 word
Warnings ⚠ : Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending
Disclaimer: I try to be as vague as possible, so you can be whatever gender you like in this imagine! Have fun reading!
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"I wonder."
George was lost in your eyes. As he hears every word that comes out of your lips, the only thing he heard was his heartbeat.
Strange, the rhythm was faster than usual. He watched you looking up, to get the tears back inside your system. You let out a forced chuckle, "Merlin, what's wrong with me." You muttered, yet George kept staring at you.
There was something bugging him. He wasn't sure what to call it.
Somehow, even without any light, you were glowing. Maybe it was from the rising moon or the little stars, but you were glowing.
At least to his eyes.
The glow highlighted all of your best features, kissing every single thing with a gentle light. If George didn't know any better, he'd think you took his breath away.
Merlin, you're stunningly beautiful.
"Did... Did he hurt you?" George found himself saying that, yet he kept on watching every little detail about you.
How come he never realized this before?
You shrugged, watching the rising moon. "He didn't. He wouldn't dare to hurt me. Blimey, I don't think he would even hurt a fly." You let out a small chuckle, smiling softly.
"Then why?" Was all that George could muster to say. He had to look away, or else he would drown himself looking at your eyes.
There's something about those eyes of yours, that he just couldn't help but admire. Is it the stunning color? Or the perfect eyelashes you have?
George has no bloody idea.
You turned to look at him, the night breeze started to come as your hair slightly moved following the breeze. "Why I tear up? Well, maybe because I know if I say anything to him about my feelings... The friendship I have with him might be jeopardized."
As you turn your head back to the view, George's eyes returned to see your facial side. If anything, the night breeze made you look so... Delicate. How your hair slightly moved backward following the breeze, how your eyes were closed to feel the wind, how there was a gentle smile painted on your lips.
"I'm sure he likes you too." He said, reaching his hand to pat your head, he does that whenever he wants to comfort you, but this time, it feels different.
It feels... much more intimate.
His heartbeat increased as his hand touched your hair, how soft it was. You laughed, "Yeah? And why so, Weasley?"
You turned to him expecting him to crack a smile, yet his face was serious. George couldn't find himself smiling, despite his fast heartbeat.
"Because any boy who doesn't see your worth, is not worth it."
He watched your face frowned in shock and the soft hue of red flowing through your cheeks. He watched your eyes flicking left and right to each of his eyes, seemingly to him you're trying to see if he's bluffing or not.
He chuckled, "What? You don't think I couldn't be serious, do you?" He let his hand fall to his sides again, and you blinked, before gently smiling, “But he’s worth it though.”
Something about that statement made his heart ache. Who the bloody hell is this buffoon and how much does he worth until he’s allowed to hurt you like this?
Before George could say anything, you both heard Fred’s shout from downstairs, “Oi, lads! Aren’t you going back to the common room? Come on then!”
You laughed at Fred’s annoyed voice, shaking your head as you stood up.  You looked down at the still-sitting George and held out your hand, “Come on, or else he’s going to throw a tantrum.”
He held your hand, and suddenly his cold hand was warm. The warmness you radiated was enough to warm his rather large hand, and seemingly warm his heart as well.
As he stood up holding your hand, he felt that you were going to pull away, so he gripped your hand tighter. He then quietly put your intertwined hands inside his sweater pocket. From the corner of his eyes, he saw you getting flustered and seemingly red. 
He didn’t know why he did what he did, but it felt right. So, so right.
“W-what about the broom and mop?” He heard you stutter out. With a flick of his finger, the broom and mop had moved by themselves, moved past them and to downstairs, passing through Fred whom you heard cursing in surprise, “Bloody hell-”
“Oh,” was all you could say. George chuckled and turned to you, “Let me borrow your hand for a second, mine was freezing.” Finally, he said something. You let out a small chuckle, “I can see that, it was bloody cold. I’m starting to suspect you’re a Slytherin.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, and you scoffed, “Don’t tell me you don’t get the joke?” George hummed a bit at that, he had to understand this one. Jokes are his main expertise. Yet, nothing came to mind. The blank face he had made you burst into laughter.
“Slytherin? Snakes? Snakes are cold-blooded? Cold hands?” you gave him hints, and then he gave you a ‘really?’ look, making you laugh more.
“That was a bad joke.” “Still works.”
That night, George couldn’t sleep. He kept turning sides here and there, closing his eyes as tight as he could, counting almost 300 sheep already, yet to no avail. “What’s wrong with me?” George muttered to himself, sighing afterward. He decided to go down to the common room, perhaps the warm fire could be his lullaby for the night.
He plopped to the couch right in front of the fireplace, the sound of crackling wood instantly brought him relaxation. He tried closing his eyes, perhaps he could sleep here for a while, to get those energies at least. 
But no, somehow his mind won’t let him rest. George opened his eyes with a heavy sigh, at this point he had given up the idea of sleep. “Alright, George Weasley’s brain, what do you want to think about so bad until I can’t bloody sleep for it?” George muttered, loud enough for him to hear. 
The idea of someone might come down and see him talking to himself in the middle of the night wasn’t George’s idea of a pleasant time.
As if answering his question, his mind wandered to you. He recalled the moments at the Astronomy Tower, the way you stunningly took his breath away.
George felt heat rushing up his cheeks, he touched the warm skin and blinked. Suddenly it clicked. With widened eyes, George stood up and paced back and forth the common room, muttering, “Oh no, no no no no no no no....”
But wait, these feelings are familiar. This isn’t the first time he felt like this for you. He has been feeling these feelings since, bloody hell, since-
“Since third year...” George mumbled in horror. The hands that were raking his hair stopped. The sudden epiphany had him frozen in both horror and shock. George plopped back to the couch by the fireplace, his mind was still processing the newfound information. 
George Weasley may have changed the way he looked at you that night.
Daylight comes and George hasn’t blinked one sleep since the revelation. He was slurping his daily cup of coffee at the Great Hall when you came by, looking cheerful. “Ah, Meredith looking good today, eh?” Fred chirped, and you just grinned at him. “I had a good sleep last night.” You said, cheerfully picking up the things you want to eat.
It’s as if George and you had switched places. 
George couldn’t stop looking at you, the way your cheeks glow by the sunlight that seeped through the windows of the Great Hall, the way you made a little dance whenever you taste something so good, the way you would furrow your eyebrows when you drink that warm tea.
Goodness, you’re stunning.
As if the time had stopped, George analyzed each and every one of your features, head to toe. And he started wondering. He wondered about many things, the way his mind was running at full speed now that he had his shot of coffee was not helping.
He wondered how soft is your hair, the pat on the head he gave you yesterday seemed to have slipped his mind. How soft is your hair, and how would it smell? How cozy would it smell when he sleeps behind you while hugging your waist, your back to his chest? 
He wondered about your eyes. How tender would they be, looking at him as if he’s the only thing that matters on Earth? How would your eyes squint when he tickled your sides, and you were laughing, begging him to stop?
He wondered about your lips. How would it curl into a smile whenever he’s around? How would it feel, if your lips came in contact with his? How would it taste like, when you were passionately kissing each other, slowly tearing off each other’s clothes-
It was only when Ron accidentally slapped George’s head while running that he was snapped back to reality. George choked out his coffee, the impact was more than enough to spill out his guts. Fred who was watching quickly stood up and slapped Ron’s head back as payback, “Watch where you’re going, you git! He could’ve choked!”
“Merlin, are you alright, George?!!” You quickly stood up to his aid, rubbing his back to ease up his coughing. George couldn’t stop coughing, yet he nodded.
He was more flustered by the fact that your hand was rubbing his back continuously than his respiratory system being endangered.
When his coughing slowed down, he had a few stray tears on his cheeks. Merlin, his throat felt like burning. He quickly downed a glass of water, sighing in relief that he could breathe again.
Ron better fucking watch his pillows tonight for tarantulas.
“Blimey, George, thought I would lose you there for a bit.” You let a relieved laugh, still being next to him, slowly rubbing his back. George wouldn’t admit it, but your hand on his back felt so comfortable, and cozy.
You patted his back a couple more times before returning to your seat, before you halted, “George.”
He turned to you, blinking, “Yeah?”
You tilted your head as you looked at him, worry etched at your face, “Your face is red,” you shrugged suddenly, “But then again, you almost died.”
“Don’t scare us like that again! I was bloody worried that I’ll have to send a letter to Mum about your death!” Fred returned and smacked George’s arm. “You git, that’s all you’re worried about.” George deadpan, but the teasing smile on his lips was visible. 
“Should we send you to the Hospital wing?” You asked, a little bit of concern was still there. George couldn’t hide his small tiny smile, his heart was buzzing with joy when you asked him that. “Worried much about me, Y/N?” George gave you a charming smile with a wink.
He watched as the red hue entered your cheeks, the soft shade of pink somehow made you look... cuter. You scoffed in surprise and had to look away for a second before looking back at him, “Wouldn’t want you to die and leave me taking care of Fred alone. “
“Hey!” Fred complained and you three laughed. 
As if everything was in slow motion, George’s eyes darted to you as you laugh. The way your eyes crinkle, the way your lips stretch to form that wide smile, the sound of your laugh could brighten up his days for a week. And somehow with the soft pink blush on your cheeks, it makes you look much more charming.
Bloody hell, George sure did change the way he looked at you.
“Look! It’s snowing!” A first-year’s shout echoed throughout the hall, and everyone snapped their heads to the windows. Small white orbs of snow floating down from the sky to the ground. “Pretty early for snow days, huh?” Fred muttered, George nodded, it was a bit early. But you weren’t listening. You were growing excited by the second.
“It’s snowing! That means we could make snow angels! And have snowball fights!”  Fred and George had forgotten how much you loved snows, and was reminded as they saw your twinkling eyes.
They slightly flinched when your head snapped to look at them, “Can we go on a midnight picnic this weekend? Please, please, please!” Once you gave them the puppy-dog eyes, they knew they lost.
“But it’s going to be freezing outside, Y/N.” Fred whined. “I have a heating mat mum bought when she went to a muggle city once! Please?”
George couldn’t help but to chuckle, you looked so adorable.
“Don’t use your puppy-dog eyes too long, Y/N. Soon people will know what kind of power you possess.” George playfully said as he glanced at Neville who sat beside you, he was staring at you with his mouth agape. You followed his eyes and laughed at Neville. You pat the lad’s shoulder and quickly whispering, “Don’t tell anyone!”
Poor Neville nodded eagerly.
The weekend soon arrived, and you were all set for the midnight picnic. George had bribed the house elves for food, you brought out the heating mat and extra blankets, and Fred brought all the jumpers he could find. Your go to place? Right in front of Hagrid’s hut, again.
“Thank you so much, Hagrid!” You said as you give the half-giant a hug. “Make sure you don’t get caught this time! Argus will not be fooled twice!” He warned you, before patting your head goodnight.
George arrived a few minutes later with baskets of food. “Where’s Freddie-O?” you asked. George shrugged, “Turns out he had detention with Snape and had forgotten about it. He’ll come around later.”
“Well, seems like it’s just the two of us tonight.” You sighed in content, watching the white mist came out from your mouth. George gave you a dazzling smile, “Who’s complaining?”
George was actually nervous for that night. It’s not like it’s the first time he had hung out with you, so he had no idea why. But ever since he had acknowledged his feelings towards you, he felt this fuzzy buzzy feeling in his stomach whenever you’re around. And he may have told you a little tiny lie about Fred.
George and Fred are twins, they know everything about each other. Fred was pretending to be oblivious the whole time, when he knew everything. Fred had given George a head-start, like he said, “Get it done before I’m there, or I’ll tell Y/N myself.” George was horrified to say the least, and Fred just scoffed, “You think you could hide things from me? Your twin? Your older brother?”
So, now that he's forced to confess, George Weasley had never felt so nervous.
It's been an hour since you both started the midnight picnic, you were munching a sandwich while laying down and George was taking a sip on his hot chocolate, courtesy to Hagrid. He glanced at your way, listening to every bit of your words about the stars on the dark sky. You looked so fascinated and George felt his heartbeat doubled in pace.
"Y/N." He called. You turned your head to him, still laying down, "What's up, Georgie?" A small smile was playing on his lips, and his eyes were tender as he looked at you, "I just realized I like someone." He saw your expression dropped for a second, before you quickly put up a smile.
...What was that?
"Who's the unlucky one?" You imitated his way of talking, like the time at Astronomy Tower. George picked it up quickly and chuckled, "Can't tell you just yet." You chuckled, "Then why bother telling me?"
"I need to let out something, like you said." George stopped laughing, but his lips still have that soft smile. You sat up and face him properly. Your knees met his, and you were giving him a supportive smile, despite your slowly breaking heart. "Tell me everything about them."
The sparkle in your eyes were gone, and George wondered why.
"Well, where do I start?" George muttered to himself, sighing. The mist escaped his lips and came in contact with your face. He looked down to his hands that rested on his lap, then his eyes darted to your hands. Swiftly, he took your right hand and begin to rub small circles on it.
At first, you were stunned. Then you figured he may need an additional support, thus your hand. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his skin softly brush against yours.
"Whenever they're around, I feel as if they radiate this kind of soft and cheerful energy. The way their eyes sparkle when they talk about something that excites them, the sound of their laugh when something is funny, the way when the sunset light kissed their face, it makes them look much more ethereal." George laid word by word carefully, he couldn't look up to you, or else he'd blush his head off.
And because he didn't look at you, he didn't see your faltering smile.
He continued to play with your hand when he said, "They're playful; as I am, but they know when to stop and be serious, to listen to things. They know which words to give when they're comforting me, and they give the best hugs a tall lad like me could possibly ask for," He chuckled, the faint blush on his cheeks saturated.
And you had lost your smile. You begin to wonder if your hugs are even enough? Were you that playful that you couldn't be serious? Did you not give advice the right way before? Suddenly, the insecurities swarmed you, and you were choking up. With your eyes watery, you muttered, "Tell me more, George."
Oblivious of your heartbroken state, George continued with a wide smile, both of his hands holding tight on yours, "I wonder sometimes, how happy could I make them be, the way they make me happy? How wonderful would life be, if I could call them mine? And, I wonder if someday they want to be my partner for life."
It hurt your heart, seeing George looking so happy telling you about that someone he likes, oblivious and ignorant to your state. It pained you, that you wanted him to be happy, even if he's happy without you. You would be happy for him, but Bloody Merlin, why does it hurt so much?
"You know, Y/N, right before I close my eyes," One and two stray tears rolled down your cheeks.
"The only thing that's on my mind," Subconsciously, you squeezed his hand, trying so hard not to let out a sob.
"I've been dreaming that you feel it too," Wait, you?
"I wonder what it's like to be loved by you." Finally, George looked up to you, with a wide smile. But that smile was drained right after he took in your state. You were looking at him with wide eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, your mouth was agape.
"W...What?" You let out a whisper. George was quick to let go of your hand to cup your face, wiping away your tears, "W-were you crying? I... I didn't mean to make you cry, Y/N." He let out softly, his face contorted with concern and regret.
You were speechless, frozen. George gulped as he saw your state, and moved away slowly. "I... I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I am, so... sorry." George was breaking on the inside. In his mind, he thought you were crying in denial, that that was your rejection to him.
"Do... Do you like me?" Your whisper sounds so loud to George. George looked at you in embarrassment and shame, before looking away, "Yeah, I do. But I knew you wouldn't like me back, so it's fine I guess-"
He likes you... He likes you. He likes you!!!
"So, everything you say about them, you were... talking about me?" You were still trying to process everything. A few seconds ago, you were so ready getting your heart broken, and now you're just confused.
You remembered the way he talked about that someone, and your face grew red. The tears in your eyes had dried up, George.... George Weasley likes you?
"George," You called. George was upset, yet he responded, "Yeah?"
"When I cried just now, do you know why?" You said slowly, your heartbeat increases. George gave you a sad and pained smile, "Because you were shocked and you were denying me?" His broken voice pained you. You slowly moved in front of him on your knees, while he was sitting with his legs crossed. He watched your every movement, somehow even with red eyes you still looked beautiful.
You slowly reached for his arms, and put them to your waist. The way his hands hugged your inches perfectly made the butterflies in your stomach grew wild. You could see it in him, that he was having butterflies as well. "I was crying because..." You trailed off, bringing your hands to each side his face, something that you've been wanting to do for quite a while. He was looking up to you slightly, and he could see your pink blush.
"Because I was heartbroken that you were talking about someone else rather than me." George blinked a few times, his heartbeat increased its pace like never before, "C-come again?" He stuttered. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It made you chuckle as you painted a gentle smile on your lips, "I like you too, George. I always have."
Seeing how speechless you made him, you leaned down slightly, until your nose were touching. Your breaths, the cold mists hit both of your faces. You watched his eyes for a moment, before it lingered down to his lips. You watched him do the same to yours with a gulp.
"Kiss me, Weasley."
George's lips slowly formed a smile, "You don't have to ask me twice." And with that he leaned up and engulfed your lips with his. It was a soft kiss first, cautious and careful. And by time went on as you two got more comfortable, the kiss was hungry, passionate, just everything you could ask for. George's hands gripped tighter to your waist, engulfing more inches to pull your closer. You arms were wrapped around his head, hands playing with his hair, trying to take as much as you could.
Only when you need oxygen did you pull away, and even then George seemed eager for more as he stole a few pecks. Your heart was about to explode, bloody hell. George Weasley is a bloody good kisser.
Soon, you were on the ground with George hovering you, planting peppers of kisses onto your face. You were giggling non-stop, begging him to stop, yet you love the affection. Your heart swelled with joy. He stopped finally, but he stayed still, hovering you, taking in the view under him.
"Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful, Y/N?" He whispered, his smile mirroring yours perfectly. He was in euphoria, he had never felt so happy.
"Yeah," You grinned before leaning up to plant a soft kiss on his lips, "You have."
<COMPLETE!>
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atalho-s · 3 years
Text
Light Up The Dark
Part 3 | I am fused just in case I blow out
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pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader
warnings: smut +18 miniors dni, swear words?, drinking, mention of anxiety crisis, let me know if anything else!
words: 4.3 k
a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! If you want to be tagged in the next chapters let me know!!
PART 3 if you want to read part 2 click here!
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Y/n sat down with her coffee at a cafeteria table. She took a deep breath and opened her notebook, double-clicking the document and revealing the page she'd been trying to write for some time. It couldn't be happening again. It was already the third writer's block in a row and to say she was starting to get angry was an understatement.
It was becoming a constant problem and she didn't know what to do anymore. It was getting embarrassing how many times she had gone to her neighborhood coffee shop. Staying in her apartment alone was making her completely claustrophobic, which was ironic given her apartment was so big and spacious.
But what was making her so upset and with that lack of creativity? That's what she wanted to find out. Maybe it was the story, maybe it would be a sign that that story shouldn't be written.
She took a deep breath and rested her chin on her palm looking at the screen. She didn't want to give up on June, her character, so easy. She really want to finish this, had she already invested too much time in something that in the end would come to nothing? That didn't sound like her.
But if that were the only way, she would have no alternative, she would have to give up and maybe come back one day when her creativity shines again.
She felt her cell phone vibrate in her coat pocket and caught it looking that was Milla. She slid the screen and answered.
- Hi Mil... - she said a little discouraged.
- Hey Lovey! Why the sad voice? - Milla said and Y/n smirked.
- Just discouraged with the new book...
- Nothing yet? - Mila already knew about the extensive Y/n block’s creativity since she kept calling asking for tips on teas or candles that would bring inspiration (since Mil was an expert in these crazy things about spiritism and nature), which obviously didn't help.
- Nothing, actually I'm thinking about giving up this time...
- Hey Hey hey! No giving up, are you crazy? - Milla said and Y/n sighed. - You just need a little push, it will come back eventually.
- I don't know Mil... It seems that the inspiration went away for good.
- Since when did you lose your ideas? I remember that weeks ago you were all excited, you even wrote three wonderful chapters, maybe if you try to do the same thing you did in these weeks the ideas will come back... - Milla said and Y/n started to remember the weeks that passed. What had she done? Well, she had spent more at home as usual, a few days meeting with the director of the series based on her book, chatting a bit with Emma Brown, and the other day doing an interview for a famous magazine, but that was it. She hadn't done anything big...
Y/n thought some more. Emma Brown and her birthday party, after that day she had a flurry of ideas where she wouldn't stop writing, but then what happened to make everything suddenly stop? Well, there was an obvious incident... And by incident she meant: Tom. That waiter had really messed with her the two nights she had been with him. But she hadn't seen him since and she was super okay with it, it wasn't like she was thinking about him, his smell, his smile, the way he knew how to touch her... Ok, that was going too far.
But why since she saw him she started having her lack of ideas again? It wasn't possible. What if he was inspiring her in some way or another? Maybe the way he relaxed her and made her forget about everything made her creative.
- Y/n? Bestie? - Milla asked on the other end of the line. - Are you still there?
- Hi Mil! - Y/n said out of his thoughts. - Sorry, I went out of orbit for a few seconds.
- I noticed... What are you thinking about huh?
- Oh no big deal... Just... I have to prove a theory and if it works out I'll tell you.
- Theory? What theory? - Milla asked curiously.
- I have to go, but I'll call you later ok? - Y/n said and didn't wait for Milla to answer, hanging up the phone and hurriedly packing up her things.
She had to prove she wasn't going crazy. Maybe Tom really was her energy charge in some way, she had to prove if her creativity would come back. And if he was, she really wouldn't know what to do. She couldn't sleep with him every time her lack of ideas came up. But, she was desperate and despair brought drastic attitudes.
So she ran back to her apartment to change her clothes. To think that she had sworn to herself that she wouldn't go after him, was humiliating, but she didn't care at the moment. As soon she got home, she went straight to her closet, wanting to impress him, but at the same time she wanted him to think that she went there to get someone else, it would be less pathetic.
She spotted a white dress, one that she had never worn before, presumably because she didn't like to show too much of her body, but she decided to take a chance with it. She dressed, put on her high-heeled sandals and did her makeup (the basic one she knew how to do) and when it was almost 11pm she was heading towards the Seven Devils bar.
Arriving there, she saw the same security guard who had let her through, a friend of Tom's. She nodded to him and entered. The bar was a little more crowded, maybe because it was friday night. He felt butterflies in her stomach, what if someone recognized her? She doubted they would, but even though she wasn't doing anything wrong she hated being in the media. She took a deep breath and went deeper into the room. It was dark and the dance floor was open, crowded with people dancing and few people sitting at the table. Only the bar light was visible, where she immediately looked for someone with brown hair and a bar uniform, but she didn't saw him, just Sally, the other bartender. Maybe he has a day off?
She headed towards the bar to order a drink, leaning against the counter and looked around, no sign of him. Maybe she had gone there for nothing. Sally approached and Y/n smiled asking for a drink, she didn't want to ask about him because it would be too much and besides Sally didn't recognize her, or pretended not to, so it would be weird.
- Special night? - Y/n asked when she delivered her drink, indicating the number of people and why the dance floor was open.
- Yeah, we do it every friday, the bar ends up turning into a club. - Sally replied taking some glasses and turned to serve other customers.
She picked up her glass and headed out onto the dance floor. It wouldn't hurt for her to have a little fun. Weaving through the crowd, she started shyly dancing for a few long minutes alone, until a guy approached.
-Hey ...-he said smiling and stopped in front of her.
- Hey... - Y/n said suspiciously and looked around drinking her drink.
- I saw you're alone... Can I stay here? he asked and Y/n bit her lip thoughtfully. Well, Tom clearly wasn't there and what if his ideas didn't just depend on him? But of her hooking up with someone? Anyone...
- Of course! - she said smiling at last and he approached dancing with her while the lights flashed. He was handsome, had those piercing eyes that wouldn't stop watching her every move.
Another song started to play and Y/n started dancing more sensually. The boy came even closer placing his hand on her waist and she smiled, satisfied with her effect. Everything was going well until she glanced at the bar and found a pair of brown eyes staring at her.
Tom. So there he was, wearing his uniform, his hair pulled back as usual, he was gorgeous and with a shaker in one hand shaking furiously. He didn't take his eyes off hers which made her shiver.
He just looked away when he had to take care of the next customer, and Y/n looked at the guy in front of her, where she now had a hand on his shoulder. Who was she kidding? She wanted Tom... At least she would try to have him that night, because she was curious to test her theory with him.
- I'll be right back. - she said and the guy opened his arms disappointed as she walked away, taking the rest of her drink and heading towards the bar again.
She leaned against the counter and saw Tom saying goodbye to a customer looking at her from the corner of his eye. She approached her and grinned when he stopped in front of her.
- This is getting embarrassing darling... - he said wiping the counter with a towel.
- What are you talking about?- she asked raising an eyebrow.
- You coming here just to see me? Tsc tsc... pathetic - he said with a smirk and Y/n felt her stomach turn with anxiety as he looked up at her.
- And who said I came here for you? - She said trying to hide it.
- I don't know, maybe because you could have gone to any bar better than this one in the entire city, but you chose this one, strange isn't it? - He asked taking her glass and preparing another drink.
- Funny, I only came here because I liked the place last time... Besides I was even flirting with another guy seconds ago, so your theory doesn't make sense. - Y/n said ironically and did not take her eyes off his trying to be firm on her tone.
- Yeah, I know... But it's funny that you didn't take your eyes off me while dancing with him... - he said putting her glass, now full, back on the counter.
- I was just surprised to have seen you, since I had even forgotten that you worked here. - She said drinking a sip from her glass and he laughed ironically.
-Of course love ... Of course ...-he said tilting his head to the side and approached his face to hers leaning on the counter. Y/n stared at him a little lost in his scent coming in waves to her nose and she could now see his freckles up close, as well as the arrogant smile that never left his face.
- I bet you came here for another round, right? he said quietly, his breath hitting her face and she almost closed her eyes. -Getting dressed like that, dancing sensually while watching me...-he said biting his lip looking her face up and down and stopping at her lips. Y/n swallowed, ok he had an almost paranormal effect on her.
- I-I... - she stuttered and he smiled even more seeing her disconcerted. - I don't know what you're talking about. - Y/n said finally and walked away a little, wanting to get out of that situation. She wanted him, but she didn't want to give out so easily.
- Of course you don't know sweetheart, but I can remind you later. - He said, winking and then walking away, heading towards another customer who had arrived.
Y/n let out the air she didn't even know she was holding, tooking a big swig of her drink and set the glass on the counter heading back to the floor. Tom was very arrogant, but denying that she didn't like it was a lie.
She arrived on the floor and went back to dancing closer. The guy from before now was talking to another girl which made her a little sad, she wanted to have fun with Tom's face some more. She stayed there for a few minutes, until three people approached her, surrounding her.
- Hey... Aren't you the Y/n? - a girl said and Y/n wanted to hide for a moment.
- Erm... I am. - She said smiling.
- I saw you in an interview last week! I love your books! Take a picture with me? she asked taking her cell phone out of her pocket.
- Of course! - Y/n said and posed with the three people while they took pictures.
- Hey! You are Y/n aren't you? I saw you in Emma's birthday pictures! -a guy said right behind approaching too and some people around her start to look at her.
- It is true! I recognized her from somewhere! - another girl said also approaching and Y/n started to get a little scared. She didn't see the harm in taking pictures with some fans, but being buried by them was a nightmare.
- Take a picture with me? - another also said.
- Your books are terrible! - another one shouted laughing.
- I bet the next one will be even worse! 
- Who is this? Never heard of it!
- I bet it must be some actress wanting attention.
And when she saw she was surrounded by a crowd almost being suffocated, but more people kept surrounding her and filling her with questions about her book, or cursing her in some way, which started to make her sick and claustrophobic .
-Please, guys...-she started to speak, but her voice broke and was lost with the loud music and with the people talking loudly around her. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out. Until she felt someone putting a hand on her waist and guiding her out of the crowd hurriedly walking beside her.
The crowd started to follow them and Y/n just stared at her feet, still feeling her heart beat fast. The next thing she saw was this person pulling her to the side of the bar through a door and then closing it.
He looked around when the light was turned on and saw some boxes on the floor and shelves. She was in a warehouse and Tom was standing in front of her.
- You are okay?- he asked looking at her worriedly.
- I...- She closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. - I'm fine, it was just a scare, thank you for saving me...
- It's ok darling... - he said approaching to check if she was really ok and Y/n felt dizzy, staggering a little and he held her by the waist preventing her from falling. - Whoa, I don't think you're okay, love.
- It's ok, it was just an anxiety attack with drinking... - she said putting her hand on her temples, feeling her vision rotate a little. - I just... I really want to leave.
- Okay, how about we walk slowly and I take you home? -He said still holding tight to her waist and she looked at him.
-O-ok...- she said nodding and they started walking slowly.
After passing through the warehouse, Tom opened another door that opened into the backyard of the bar, where he could see his car. He helped her in and sat down next to her.
- Tom? - Y/n asked when he started the car and starting to move.
- Huh? -he said turning his face towards her.
- Can you... Can you take me somewhere else? I don't want to go home... - she said feeling a little pathetic. But she didn't want to face her gigantic apartment right now, wanted to be with someone somewhere else who didn't remember what she'd just been through.
- Sure darling... - he said stopping at the red light. - Where you want to go?
- Could be your house? I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything, I just... I need to calm down somewhere else... - She started to say hesitant.
- Hey, fine, no problem. -He said putting his hand in hers, that was on her lap, comforting her and she shook her head, seeing him to remove, putting back on the steering wheel. She wanted him to keep his hand there, but obviously she stay quiet, leaning her head against the window, trying to calm down.
After a few minutes they reached his building, where Tom parked and helped her to go out of the car. Y/n followed him to the front door and they took the elevator. She was still silent the whole time and he didn't want to say anything either, just glanced at her time to time, maybe checking her if she was okay and looking away afterwards.
They arrived at Tom's apartment and Y/n looked around. It was small but cozy. There was a living room with a small kitchen and a hallway leading to another door that appeared to be his bedroom.
- How about you stay in my room and I give you some clothes to make you more comfortable? -He said putting his hand on her back guiding her while she nodded.
They entered the room and Y/n sat on the edge of the bed. As Tom opened his closet, taking off his shoes and choosing a comfortable T-shirt and pants for her to wear. He approached her again putting the clothes beside her.
- Well, you can make yourself comfortable ok? I'll let you... - he start to said.
- Tom. - Y/n interrupted him. - Please stay here. - She said feeling her heart start beating fast and her breathing quicken. She thought back to the horrible comments and the crowd that had surrounded her. Maybe now pictures of her were all over the internet and it made her anxious again. She closed her eyes feeling tears wanting to flow. She opened them again and the tears finally spilled out, rolling down her cheeks.
- Hey, hey darling. It’s alright, I'm here. -he said getting down in front of her, putting a hand on her cheek wiping away some tears.
- Sorry, I just... That's ridiculous, sorry...
- Shh... - he said calming her and looking at her. - It's not ridiculous ok? You don't need to apologize for anything. -He said caressing her cheek.
- It's just... I keep thinking about those horrible comments and how my picture must be all over the place. - Y/n said wiping some tears that insisted on falling.
- Darling... You don't need to think about it, okay? Those people who said that are terrible, I don't want you to think about anything now how about that? - he said and Y/N looked at him.
- I wish I could turn off those thoughts. -she said sniffling a little, averting her eyes and Tom stroked her leg slowly comforting her. For a moment she felt her body shiver, but it was because Tom was touching her and not because of her crisis. He stopped pulling his hand away and Y/n looked at him. - Tom... Can you continue?
- What do you mean? - he asked confused looking into her eyes.
- Touching me... I mean, you were doing a good job distracting me. - She said smiling slightly and he smiled back.
- Sure…- he said getting down on his knees and taking her calf slowly and kissing her lightly, not taking his eyes off hers at any time. Y/n wanted to close her eyes, but at the same time wanted to look at him, so she decided to keep them open.
Tom took off his sandals slowly, and was kissing from her calf to her thigh, stroking lightly with his hand that held her, and she felt shivers down her spine. . He reached her inner thigh and took a small bite causing her to sigh and bite her lip in response. He lifted his head to look at her and smiled. Y/n not resisting, bent down kissing him with desire. He placed one of his hand on her face kissing her back while his other hand still rested on her thigh squeezing.
She kept kissing him until she felt she needed of air and they parted, out of breath. Tom touched his nose to hers lightly and Y/n closed his eyes feeling him.
- Tom... I want to feel you... - she said approaching her mouth again. - Make love with me? - she asked quietly and she could feel him smile against her mouth.
-Whatever you want sweetheart... - he said and stood up suddenly with hush, bringing her along  by her legs, making her gasp in surprise, putting her down on the bed and lying on top of her afterwards.
He went back to kiss her, exploring her mouth eagerly and she placed her hand on the back of her neck, pulling his hair. He paced his hands over her body and she hurriedly took his shirt off, running hers over his defined bare chest.
- I didn't tell you this before, but you look wonderful in that dress, teased me all night, but I confess I'd rather see you without... - He bit down lightly below her ear making her moan low, he raised the hem of her dress, stepping away and helping her get it off and throwing it aside.
Now he was kissing her collarbone, lowering the kisses to her breasts making her arch her back a little wanting to get even closer to his mouth. When she reliase he had removed her bra and smirked looking at her.
- I have to be honest...I missed that image. - he said and Y/n almost hid by the way he looked at her, it was like she was a sculpture, it was a look of admiration and desire. A look that made her forget the world.
He kissed her breasts and positioned himself between her legs, meanwhile taking off his pants, along with his boxers, while still paying attention to each of her nipples, sucking them making her moan low. He returned his kisses to her lips again kissing her more slowly this time, moving his hand to her panties and running his fingers slowly through the fabric, setting aside and feeling how pathetically wet she was for him. Y/n moaned against his lips again and he groaned pulling back a little.
-I love how you're always ready for me darling...-he said making his lips touch hers lightly and she could only moan in response as he made slow circles on her clit.
- Tom... - she said weakly and he smiled seeing how she was vulnerable for him. - Please, I need you inside me, now... - Y/n managed to said between moans, arching her waist against his hand.
- So demanding and desperate love ... - he said taking his hand of her making her protest with the lack of contact. - But I have to confess that you get even hotter that way. - He said stretching to get a condom in the drawer on the side of the bed and opened the package adjusting on his member right after. Y/n ran her hands on his arms, meanwhile, just admiring his body and how lucky she was. He looked back at her and smiled seeing that she was admired him with concentration. - Still with me darling?
She looked him in the eye again and nodded, kissing his neck then making him bite his lip. Tom took his cock closing his eyes and penetrated her slowly, so that she got used to his size. When he was fully inside her he turned to look at her closely and stroked her cheek lightly as if asking permission to move, which she readily agreed.
He started to move slowly, making her feel every piece of him by wich thrust he was doing, until he picked up a fast pace that made her moan with pleasure gripping his shoulders tightly and even scratchin him a little. He made her feel like she was flying and he penetrated her so deliciously it felt like a dream.
Tom took one of her legs and wrapped it around his waist, making him penetrate her even deeper, which made her almost combust. He was silent the entire time, as well as her, what could be heard were just the moans of the two that echoed through the room.
After what seemed like an eternity. Tom slowed his pace a little. Putting one of his hands on the side of Y/n's head, squeezing the sheet and the other on her leg, squeezing it willingly.
- Fuck Darling... I’m gonna come... - he said breathlessly lost in his pleasure.
- Tom... - Y/n could only said and he took his hand from her leg going to her clit again stimulating it with his fingers and increasing his pace again, until the two reached the orgasm together between moans and low breathless curses.
Tom placed a few kisses on Y/n's neck returning to his senses and Y/n closed her eyes just feeling his touch. He then got off her and lay beside her looking at the ceiling. Catching his breath. After cleaning themselves in silence, the two returned to bed lying side by side.
- You ok? he asked finally breaking the silence looking at her.
-More than ok...- Y/n said lying on his side towards him. -I'm just tired...-she said lazily starting to close her eyes and the last thing she felt before falling asleep was Tom kissing her forehead.
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taglist: @usuck​ @petesrparker​
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johnstoast19 · 2 years
Text
Two Coffees, Please...
I didn't have time to share this for Froger Week, so I decided to post it anyway.
Summary: Freddie meets his platonic love in a coffee shop, but he doesn't know that Roger wanted to meet him much earlier.
Words count: 753.
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If I were more handsome and a smart guy, if I were special and a renowned artist, surely I would have the courage to step up and speak with him.
He always sits in the same place, I look at him and my cheeks blush. His blond hair and pretty blue eyes combine perfectly, when he arrives everything stops like he would have the power over all.
"One coffee, please… the same as always." His voice sounds soft, I smile with only hear it.
I sigh, he hasn't seen me yet.
My movements are careful, I stay on my chair looking at today's newspaper, but my eyes notice every sign from him, like a hunter waiting for his prey. He's an extrovert guy, every person who works here already knows him so well, he's their favorite client.
But today is different, so I decided to take the first step and meet him. It shouldn't be difficult, I guess… I've done this before, I've met many people in clubs or other places, normally I'm the cool guy who could make you laugh, dance or just give you an interesting conversation... But in this case, I don't recognize myself, my mask has fallen off.
He looks so wonderful, but I'm nervous.
A waitress came to my table and asked me if I would like something else. I refused, I have no time, if I don't take the courage to speak with him, my opportunities could die.
His laugh sounds louder, he's talking to someone who has made him spit his drink. It's a bit funny to see this scene, and now my feet move through the coffee shop until I get to where he is. I feel my hands sweating like a bloody waterfall with every step, my breathing is short when I touch the wood of the bar, and he notices me.
A white smile welcomes me, his blond eyebrows raise when I sit next to him, cutting his conversation with the person. I moisten my lips until his blue eyes look at me. My body responds immediately to the electrical shake that he sent to me across his pupils.
Oh God, what the hell am I doing?
“Hey! Are you okay?” He asked me. To hear his voice near me is like a sweet poison.
Let someone kill me!
"Yeah… I'm sorry… I just wanna know something." I say and my brain explode because of my stupid words.
"Well, go ahead!"
My recent security drops a thousand floors to the bottom. I don't remember the last time I wanted to run away after meeting someone. This is fucking insane.
He looked at me as if I was a madman with nice clothes because I've been concerned about looking good since I first saw him, maybe with the idea of impressing him.
Even today, I'm still surprised by my actions.
"Do you want another coffee?" The words had been thrown away in one short breath. He raised an eyebrow at the same time a little shine born on his blue eyes.
My security mask broke in seconds when I didn't hear a word from him. This is a silly way to be rejected.
"If you're willing to pay this round, I'll pay for the second one… just in case you decide to add a third round." He smiles and the world is reborn. "I'm Roger, by the way." One of his hands stretches out in front of me and I take it withuot any doubt.
"Freddie." I say and he nods.
"Finally, I meet you. It's a big pleasure to put a name on your face." He comes up to me and his lips whisper without losing a smile. "I've been watching you for the last few days."
My cheeks blushed, I didn't expect that confession. Is it real? Because I couldn't touch the ground after this. Roger nods, reading my thoughts.
"That sounds weird." I joke. Roger shrugs and then he gives me a wink.
The waitress came to us and Roger gave her a smile. "Two coffees, please. I found a new friend today, that deserves a celebration, of course."
After two rounds of coffee and a proposal to take me home, I'm convinced that this day will become one of the most important days of my life. Finally, I met someone who will always be there to make me smile and thought that it's possible to believe in coincidences.
Roger taught me that two coffees are not always enough for us.
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Text
❛ I NEED YOU MORE ❜
with Nestor Oceteva, and teen!reader as his daughter.
Request: Hello! A Imagine about Nestor's daughter? A teen girl who hate Miguel,maybe cause she ils scared by him ? And that's cause some problem between Nestor and his daughter. And she thinks he gonna kick her ass out of the home like with her mom or in intership (not sure of the english word... I mean school where u sleep here during week) . Maybe with Mayans apparition ? 🙈 Ending fluff ? ❤❤🙏
BY ANON
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Word count: about 4.1k and I'm not even sorry.
Warnings: angst af, minors consuming alcohol and stealing a car, slightslightslight mention of violence (this sounds too bad just to warn you of a slap) and I don't know what more. Actually, I don't even know if these are warnings, or need to be warned. I'm a clown.
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: @angels-reyes
Masterlist.
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“Dad, you promised me”. 
Nestor sighs closing his eyes for a second, before turning around to face you, wearing the holsters over the black shirt. He doesn't know what to say, seeing the letdown gesture on your face.
“Dad…”
“I know what I said, (Y/N)”. He just says, checking the guns and the loaders before keeping them on both sides of his body. “But Mikey needs me”.
“I need you too”. You reply cross-armed with a broken thread of voice.
Turning on your feet, you leave the room being followed by the mexican, who is trying to find the most adequate words to say. But he knows that you are right, closing the door onto his nose. Falling down on your bed, you can't help but finally break in crying. Your father can hear you and that really breaks his heart, but he has to leave much to his regret. Miguel said some days ago that he would be free this weekend and you were ready to travel to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. As always, that wasn't something to happen. It's the third time you've delayed the trip, being alone for the rest of the week, because surprisingly Nestor has to work. And you understand his job and what he does, but sometimes Miguel looks like he's jealous. Of you, of your relationship, of whatever. Maybe he is his best friend, his brother, but his boss first. So your father has to obey his orders.
When you're sure he's gone, you step out of your dorm, going downstairs and cleaning the tears on your shirt. Maybe you're on time to call some friend and have a beer in that bar that doesn't care about your age because ‘you are Nestor Oceteva's daughter’. It should be the other way around, but who are you to question those kinds of decisions. Typing by heart your best friend's number, you place the phone on your ear, opening the fridge to find something to eat.
“Hey, babygirl”.
“Hey, corazón. Where are you?”
“Home, watching a documentary”.
“What 'bout?” You ask, grabbing yesterday's thai leftlover, before closing the fridge.
“Charles Manson. That… fucking guy was fucking crazy”.
“Yeah, I've seen something about him”.
Taking a fork from the main drawer, you jump over the counter to sit on, putting the speaker on your phone to leave it by a side of your legs.
“So, what's up? Are you exc—”.
“My father canceled it again”. You interrupt her, eating a bunch of noodles. “Do you… want to hang… out? I think he left the car here”.
“Are you gonna drive your father's car? Without license?”
“Do you want to hang out or not?”.
“Yeah, yeah. Give me… dunno, twenty minutes?”
“Thirty, I'm having somekind of dinner”. You reply, looking at the box between your hands with an incredulous gesture.
“Okay, amor, see you here”.
Hanging up the call, you hurried up to finish the box and get ready for a girls night. It's not the first time that you do it and of course it's not going to be the last. But even if you try to convince yourself that you're not trying to call Nestor's attention, you know you are doing it. And you know it at the exact moment you find the keys of the black SUV. Miguel's car. The one he drives when he has to work. Probably, one of the other security men picked him up. You don't care. You're going to take this car, and not the personal one. Having one last look on the mirror, turning over the sneakers and putting well on the black skirt and the transparent crop top, you leave the house straight to the garage. Clicking the control remote to lift up the door, you lead your steps towards the big Range Rover.
Once that the engine is on, you speed up to see your house getting smaller through the rear-view, enjoying how easy it's to drive an automatic car without caring about the gears. And of course, Lara starts to freak out when you appear in her neighborhood with such a monster of four wheels.
“Girl, are you kidding me?” She screams as soon as she sits by your side. “Shit… Nestor is gonna kill you…”
“Nope, if he doesn't find out. We're just gonna have some beers, what can go wrong, ah?” 
“This car is… fucking amazing”. 
“He put me puppy eyes to drive him”. You joke with her, before continuing to your destiny.
Of course, it's not your fault. And if it is, you hush it by turning up the volume of the music, before you get out of control driving out of Santo Padre. Reaching the pub some minutes later, you're ready to enjoy the night. Shots of tequila sliding over the wet wooden bar, cheering with your friend and drinking them in one gulp, mixing it with the toasted beers. One after another. Your body dances following the rhythm of the rock music playing on, singing the lyrics as if you were in a concert and having some fun with your best friend. Lara and you have known each other forever, and sixteen years together have given for many situations. Some better than others, but always by your side whenever you have needed her, mostly when you have needed your father. You could give your life for her, and she could give her life for you.
But that good time ends up when your phone rings in your hand, showing the name of your father on it. Rolling your eyes, you decline the call, placing an arm on Lara's shoulders.
“What if we ha—have a bottle of tequila and we le—leave? I know a place…” Making the same gesture that the chefs proffer in some kind of kiss when a dish is really delicious, she nods energetically, ignoring the new incoming call.
At least this time, you have some care driving the heavy SUV, taking your time because of your blurred gaze. It's not the first time you drive drunk, but this car is different from your father's and he needs it to work. And maybe you're starting to think that it wasn't a good idea, but by the other hand, he earned it. It's supposed that you should be sleeping and resting for your father and daughter's travel, but he preferred to cancel it to spend some more time with Miguel. That's why he didn't take the Range Rover. Probably his best friend had another discussion with his wife. The crazy bitch who appeared from nowhere and tried to be your friend just because you were Nestor's family. You're not sure who you hate the most, if Miguel, or if Emily.
And you are so absorbed thinking about it that you don't see the stop signal, passing it away and colliding with another car. A cops one. Raising your head from the airbag, as Lara does cursing and complaining in spanish, you find out how fucked you are right now. Luckily, you just hit a side of the trunk, but when you see them stepping out of the patrol holding his guns and pointing at the SUV, you know that you're going to be much more fucked when they call your father.
“Get out of the car and put the hands on your heads!”
Of course, you two obey while one of the cops asks for another patrol and some help by the walkie. As soon as they recognize you, they put the guns down with a heavy snort. If you hadn't rammed them, they would let you go. But they need to explain why their car is a little destroyed. 
“Are you hurt?” Dylan looks at both, after giving the advertisement. Lara nods head in silence, so you do.
“Turn around, (Y/N), I have to arrest you”. Frankie says grabbing the handcuffs from his belt after keeping his weapon.
“Please, don't arrest her too, it was my fault”. You beg them, raising both wrists towards him. “Please… It was my fault”.
“Can you hire an uber?” The oldest turns at your friend, who nods again. “Do it”.
“(Y/N), I'm stayi—”.
“No, Lara! You're leaving. I will call you tomorrow, I promise”.
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If you were drunk at some point of the night, you're not anymore sitting in the interrogation room, wearing a jacket that Frankie gave you of the police division and a cup of hot coffee between your hands, supported over the table. You're not sure how many time have passed since you came, but when a uniformed man opens the door you know by the gesture on his face that it's time to go home. From the other end of the police station, you can hear your father shouting like never before. Full of rage and really furious. Miguel doesn't look much happy when you reach them, assuming that he paid for the penalty fee of driving without license and drunk, for the patrol and the bond to let you go. You heavy gulp bowing the head to your feet, licking your lips about to cry. No, you're not trying to pity them, you're shaking because you have never been more scared in your entire life.
“What the fuck were you thinking, ah?” Your father leans forward facing you, with an angry whisper.
“Hermano, aquí no”. (Brother, not here). Miguel mutters, placing a hand on his forearm, hoping that he calms down. But he doesn't.
“I'm talking to my daughter”. He turns for a second, before giving you back all his attention. “Mírame, chamaca”. (Look at me, girl).
“Dad, I'm s—”.
“Don't you fucking dare to say that you're sorry, 'cause we both know you're not”. He urges you to look at him, grabbing your chin with more strength that you can deal with, pointing you with a ringed forefinger. “You took my fucking car. You drove drunk. And you ran over a fucking cops car. Are you fucking stupid?”
“Nestor…” Miguel calls him again, but he doesn't reply to his brother back.
“Do you thought just for a fucking second how I felt when they called me, to tell me that my daughter had a fucking car accident and that she tripled the allowed alcohol rate?”.
“That's all you cared about?” You speak then, slapping his hand away from your face, shrugging your shoulders. “The car? The shame of… being living this situation?”
“Ah, ah. I'm not falling into your fucking game of emotional blackmail, chamaca. Not this fucking time”.
“This wouldn't have happened, if you had been at home. Sleeping. Getting ready for our trip. But… your work is always more important than spending some time with me!”
“That's not t—”.
“Oh, for god's sake! Just for once, Miguel, can you please shut the fuck up? If you paid for me, good! Thank you! I'll give it to you back, but don't fucking call me liar!”
“Watch your fucking mouth!” Your father yells at you, grabbing your left forearm and shaking it with a strong pull. “You're gonna be grounded until you're eighteen, ¿me oíste?”
“Jeez… Of course... I gave you the perfect excuse to keep hanging with your ‘best friend’ forgetting that you have a daughter… You're the worst fath—”.
You can't finish the sentence, when the back of his hand crosses your face to the other side, feeling a slight stinging stab running through your lower lip, before tasting the metallic flavor of blood. 
“Brother, don't”. Too late to stop him, Miguel. “Don't do that again”.
You're shocked with your gaze on the floor and a hand on your cheek, trying to figure out what just happened frowning slowly. 
“I hate you…” You say in a low thread of voice, with some tears falling down from your eyes.
Three words that you didn't think you could say, but here they are, pressing the sleeve cuff against your lip to contain the red liquid starting to walk right to the exit with the clear intention of getting away from him.
“No, no, no, hermano. Déjala”. (Brother, leave her). Miguel stops him again, grabbing his arm again when you begin to run, pushing the street door to go downstairs. 
Your cry gets somewhat louder, standing in front of your father's mate for a second and looking at they're disappointed gesture, before continuing your steps to the right side of the street not knowing where you want to go. You just need to walk, even if it's cold outside and the jacket it's not enough to keep you warm. Turning the corner you hear the cars engines coming closer, but although you think they're going to stop to pick you up, they don't. Nestor is driving the first one and he doesn't look at you passing you away. The pain increases, oppressing your chest and concentrating in your throat. Now you're starting to regret what you did, but it wasn't a reason to treat you like he did, hitting you. Slapping you in front of everybody. And it's worse the fact that he hit you for the first time, than the fact of who was looking at you. 
The next time you raise up your eyes from your shoes, you find yourself in Marcus neighborhood, guessing that your brain was working for you this time. Knowing that it's your only option. Knowing that he's not going to judge you, but try to understand you and give you the best advice. Ringing the doorbell when you reach his house, you stand on the porch with both arms crossed around your chest, rubbing one leg against the other trying to find some warmth on every move until he welcomes you.
“Te andaba esperando, mija”. (I was waiting for you, girl). He says with a soft smile on his lips, opening his arms to hug you tight. “Come in, you're freezing”.
In silence, you practically obey crossing the door to the inside, taking off the cops jacket to hang it on the coat rack. It's not the first time you go to him looking for some appropriate words for the occasion, and he never complains. You know him since six years ago, and he has always been so gentle and helpful.
“Why don't you have a shower while I prepare you a sandwich? Are you hungry?” He asks, placing an arm over your shoulders.
With a fleeting smile on your lips, you nod. 
“Okay, hurry up”.
Following the hallway to the guest room, you close the door to open the wardrobe, finding there your bag with some comfy clothes from the last time you had to stay there. The shower doesn't take you too much, feeling better after getting warm and clean, fixing up your lip as soon as it stops bleeding. You meet the one that is like your tío on the main table of the living room, with a sandwich, a napkin and a glass of milk. Sitting on, the man rests his arms over the wood, looking at you devouring your food.
“Nestor told me what happened”.
“Did he tell you about the trip?”
“Not tonight, but the whole week. All the time, mija”.
Shaking your hands above the dish to clean them from the bread, you raise an eyebrow towards him.
“He was very excited to go with you to Los Angeles”. He explains, as if it was necessary. “He told us everything that he wanted to show you. Hollywood, the Griffith's observatory, Santa Mónica…”
“It's the third time he leaves me on the road like a pinche perro, tío”.
“Yes, I know. And I know that he was disappointed with himself for not being able to take you to. Have you thought about that?”
You keep silent, bowing your eyes to the nibbled sandwich. No, you didn't. You were too busy being egoist, not asking how he felt about it.
“We have a… different job from other men. It's risky, complicated and we never know if we're going to come back home. But the time that we spend with our families, it's the most precious time for us. I talk with my daughter every single day by video call. And I take advantage of the minimal time to drive to Oaktown, to see her. To have lunch, a coffee… Whatever”. He says, holding your hands over the table to intertwining his fingers with yours. “For you is easier. You live together. And I'm not asking you to normalize how much he works, but to understand that everything he does, he does it for you, mija. To give you the life he couldn't have”.
“I just want to be… some time with him, tío Marcus. This is not… because of the trip, I swear. But, I can be for days without seeing him at home. And… And… everything I can think of, it's that something wrong happened to him”. You're crying again, trying to express your feelings and your emotions, while the mexican listens to you attentively. “I know I didn't have to take his car, nor another. I didn't have to drink, or escape from home. I was just… feeling alone, and sad, and…”
“Alcohol it's not the solution, mija”.
“I know…”
“And Miguel isn't your enemy”.
Yes, you know that too, but acknowledge it out loud it's not an option. You feel stupid enough for tonight.
“You should talk with Nestor, tell him how you feel and, of course, tell him that you are sorry. I'm sure you didn't, did you?”
“I don't think he wants to… hear me, or see me right now, tío”.
“(Y/N), never forget that you are his daughter. The most beautiful gift that God gave him. Nothing, and no one could change that. Never”.
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With this hangover, the last thing you want to do is front facing what you did last night. But Marcus thought that you shouldn't waste more time. Stepping out of the SUV, when it stops in front of Miguel's house, you take a deep long breath with your heart racing. Your hands are sweating and your legs are trembling, walking towards the main door being slightly pushed by your tío. Coming in, you follow your father's voice, sounding tired and upset, talking with his boss about a trip to Washington. Washington D.C., where your mother lives.
“I think it's the best option, brother. It will suit her”. 
Through the opened door, you can see them giving you their backs. Miguel is standing up behind your father, pointing something on the screen of the laptop, while Nestor is sitting at the desk.
“Please, don't”. You just say with a broken tone of voice, about to cry.
The men turn around facing you.
“Dad, I'm so—sorry for what I did… I'm sorry fo—for crashing your car, Miguel… but do—don't send me to Washington… please”. You beg taking a step closer.
Miguel narrows one of his shoulders, before leaving you alone and closing the door of his own office. Nestor gets up from his chair, resting his body against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Then you notice that he looks so different as he usually does. A bump tying his curly hair, wearing sweatpants and a shirt, and two black bags under his eyes. Now you know what Marcus was trying to explain to you. 
“Dad, it will never gonna happen again, I swear. I pro—promise… I promise you. No car, no alcohol, no going out, no nothing. I will stay at home. All the ti—time. I promise”. You continue begging with all your efforts, while he keeps silent. “I get it, okay? You ha—have to work. You have to work a lot and I promise I will ne—never complain about it again… I will settle with… hav—having any time with you. Por poquito que sea”. (No matter how little).
He doesn't say anything, rubbing the bridge of his nose, uttering a heavy sigh. You're getting more and more nervous. Your whole anatomy is shaking, tasting the salty tears that flood in your lips.
“Lo—Look… this morning I fo—found a job that I co—could take this summer”. Your father looks at you, taking off your phone from a pocket to unlock it, offering it to him so he can read the offer. “It's in a caf—cafeteria… Eleven dollars per hour. It's not mu—much… but I could pay Miguel for everything”.
While you highlight everything you have to pay for, you make some gesture with your fingers counting them under his attentive gaze. He looks surprised, even if he's trying to hide it from you.
“I will do an—anything, dad. I wanna be with you… Please, don' leave me”.
You have never felt so desperate, so broken, so sad. You can't barely breathe, not knowing if you're having a panic attack, an anxiety one, or you're just dying because of the pain imagining you're not going to see him for a long, long time. You never had a good relationship with your mother, and your father is the person you love the most in the world. You literally can't live without him.
“Papá, say something… please”.
The only thing he does is look at the broken screen of your phone, before giving it to you back licking his lips.
“I wasn't talking about the city, but about the county”. He finally speaks, grabbing the laptop as you come closer to have a look. “There's a campground on Mount Rainier. It's a national park surrounded by forests. People camp there and… go hiking, exploring nature. I was more into buying two trail bikes”.
“Aren't you…?”
“Seriously, (Y/N), who the fuck do you think I am?” Narrowing his eyes, he shakes his head, leaving away the laptop.
“I'm sorry… I just… hear yo—”.
“Nothing is what it seems to be”.
“I know… and I'm truly sorry, dad”.
“I'm sorry for hitting you last night. Let me see it”. Cupping your cheek into his hands, he takes a look at the small gap on your lower lip, leaning to kiss your forehead before hugging you with all his strength. “I'm sorry for setting you apart, mi amor. I didn' mean to do it”.
“I know, dad”. You whisper against his chest, feeling somewhat better when you're able to stop crying.
“You have to talk with Mikey, okay?” He says, pulling himself away and caressing your hair. You just nod clearing your tears.
Going out from the office, clinged to your father's waist, he leads you to the kitchen. His friend is there, having a sip from a mug of coffee resting against the counter. Leaving the drink over it, he stands up waiting for some words.
“Miguel, I am… sorry about last night. About taking your car and driving it after drinking… too much tequila”.
“It's okay, I accept your apologies”. He says then with a firm tone.
“I… ahm… I told my dad that I found an… offer job in a cafeteria, to pay you the bills”. You reply, showing him too on your phone. “Probably I will have to… work a double shift for… dunno, maybe ten years to afford it. But I will give it to you back”.
“You don't have to do it”.
“Yes, I have. I crashed it and I was arrested. That's a… lot of money, but I will earn it”.
Miguel looks at you father, visibly surprised because of your insistence and that you're being more responsible than they thought you will be. You sure they thought that you would set them on fire, or something like that. But here you are, swallowing your pride and trying to do the correct thing. 
“I want to make you… have clear the fact that I don't hate you, and that I am not your enemy, (Y/N). Your father is the only person I blinded trust in. We've been friends long before you were born and when he told me he was about to have a daughter, I was more excited than anyone”. Now, you are the surprised one, watching him grab an empty mug to pour some coffee into it before offering it to you. “He's my family, so you do. Sí lo entiendes, ¿verdad?” (Do you understand it, right?”
You nod pursing your lips, holding the drink.
“It's true that sometimes I forgot that he has a house and a daughter to attend to, but I don't do it consciously. I have a son too, I know how it feels to work too much, come back home tired and don't be able to spend time with your family. So, I had an idea”. He does a pause, raising a hand towards the close stook for you to sit on. “I need someone to help me to transcribe my countability books, look for money losses from the last years of my father's empire. And Nestor told me you like… numbers”.
“Yes, I… I do”.
“So, what if to pay my bills, you help me with that? It's a way to show you that I trust you too and that I want you closer too. Everybody wins. You will see your father more often, I will solve my… little problem with the accounts and maybe we can start to be friends”.
Jumping off from the stool, you hug him. You hug him like you never thought you would do one day. And now you're seeing how wrong you were about him.
“But first, enjoy the week with your father and try not to kill himself riding through the forest”. He chuckles, palming gently your back.
“A week?” You frown confused, pulling yourself away and turning to your father smirking with both hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Like… a whole week? From Monday to Sunday?”
“Actually… from Sunday to Sunday. We're leaving tomorrow”.
Not knowing when you have began to cry again, Nestor surrounds you with both arms against his chest, feeling a little more stupid after finding out what they were doing before you came to the house. Leaving some kisses on your head, your father urges you to look at him.
“Let's prepare the trip, okay? I also need to sleep for some… long, long, long hours”. Taking off from his right pocket the Cartel's phone, he leaves it on the counter. “I'm not gonna need it”.
“You sure?” Miguel jokes with him, grabbing it to keep it.
“Fucking sure, hermano”.
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goldenmazzello · 4 years
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Lay all your love on me | Part 1
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(I don't own this gif. Credits to the owner)
Warning: Flashbacks. Language. Mentions of poor mental health, angst.
W/C: 2.8k.
A/N: Hello! This is the first part of Lay all your love on me. You can find the next parts on my pinned masterlist here.
MASTERLIST 
Your last day on set has finally arrived. It's amazing how time flies when you're busy doing things you really love, surrounded by magnificient people. It makes you forget about your every day routine and to have some fun from time to time.
Everybody was getting their make-up done for the last day of filming. As you entered the trailer in order to get yours done, a sweet, delicate voice called you.
"(Y/n)! Are you ready for our last day?" Lucy asked with a bright smile on her face while sitting on her personalized black chair, which had her name written at the back.
You smiled. "To be honest, I'm not doing too well, I'm gonna miss you guys so much." You said with a pouty face. Lucy said she would miss all of you too. 
“Oh, nice baby bump!” 
You furrowed your brows but then you remembered. You were wearing a fake silicone belly, since your character was going to be pregnant in that scene. 
“Yeah, he’s kicking so hard.” You joked. 
You sat on your chair as your assistant helped you put your wig.  You laughed at your reflection in the mirror. "I still can't used to this wig." You found it odd to wear a blonde wig.
“At least they didn’t give you a perm!” Joe appeared holding two cups of coffee on each of his hands. “Here you have, my wonderful wife.” he approached you and gave you one of the cups. You laughed at his comments. 
“Thank you, Mr. Deacon.” You thanked him and left a kiss on his cheek.
Joe bringing you coffee on set every morning became a habit, one you were very delighted with. He was so kind with you that you swore your heart could just melt for every little thing he did for you. 
And while drinking your coffee, you remembered your very first day on set and how you and Joe started talking. 
Filming had already started by your first day on set. Today, you would meet the entire cast of the wonderful movie you were going to take part in. You felt an overwhelming joy for being part of such an incredible project, not only because it was a big step in your career as an actress, but also because you were a Queen fan. And it was your very first time in London.
Your very first scene was Freddie’s birthday party. You greeted all of your new cast mates before paying attention to the director’s indications. 
You sat between two of your cast mates. One of them was wearing a long-haired blonde wig and the other a long-haired brown one with a strange fringe. You were wearing a wig as well. It was a black-haired one with a fringe and low pony tails falling over your shoulders. Your eyes had a beautiful emerald eye-shadow which you weren’t very comfortable with but you didn’t care, you were another person now, it was your job.
As they started filming, you kept a conversation with the actor that played John Deacon’s role, your husband, of who you didn't remember his name. You smile at each other and them you both joined the conversation that the others were having about Freddie’s life as his mom stood up and looked for family pictures.
The director decided to take some breaks in between the scenes. It was a good opportunity to introduce yourself and to make some new friends. 
“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Ben.” said the blonde one who was next to you and you told him your name. The other actors joined him and all of you started talking. There was something strange in one of them, the one who was next to you and introduced himself as Joe. Why was he talking so weird? 
“Why are you doing a bad American accent?” You asked him laughing. He furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, he looked as if he was trying to find the words to say. “B-but, t-that’s my voice.” he said confused. 
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” You said and covered your face with your hands. That’s why you don’t have friends, stupid, you said to yourself. 
Your face was burning and you felt absolutely embarrassed. How long have you been on set? Three hours? And you were already causing trouble. 
He laughed. “Nevermind. What an awesome compliment. I mean, I’ve been working on it so hard and you thought that I was actually British but...What’s wrong with my voice? I think it’s a pretty convincing American accent. Anyway, thanks for the compliment.” 
“I’m really really sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” Your face was still red. You wished the Earth would swallow you, you wanted to disappear from his sight. He put his hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I really meant what I’ve said, it was a nice compliment, I’m prouder of myself now!” He assured you and gave you an expression that indicated everything was okay and there wasn’t anything bad at what you had said, he wasn’t mad at that. 
You weren’t very convinced but after getting closer to him the following days, you realized that he was telling you the truth and there wasn’t anything you should worry about. After that, you both talked about each other’s lives. You found out he lived in New York, just as you. He was from there but you were from New Jersey. You told him how you ended up moving to New York to study and work on your acting career. Since that day, you both became very good friends. And the same thing happened with Ben, Gwilym, Rami and Lucy, you became close to them because of your new friendship with Joe. 
“Let’s take a picture for Instagram.” Joe suggested. You stood next to him, with your right hand covering half of your mouth showing surprise and Joe put one of his hands on your fake belly and the other did the same as yours. 
Lucy took the photo. 
@Joe_Mazzello: Say hi to the Deacon family! @(y/n)(y/s/n) #BohemianRhapsody #Queen #DeaconFamily 
~
The director was giving the last indications for the scene. We will rock you. You were on a sofa next to Joe, having a conversation as Ben did the same with the actress who played his wife and the one who was Gwilym’s wife sat there looking at him, while he was looking at Rami, completely annoyed. The girls were very good actresses but unfortunately, they weren’t very close to the rest of the cast and won’t be joining the future tour press since they have another projects in the pipeline. 
“You look so funny in that blonde wig.” Joe teased you, knowing that you hated it. 
Actually, Joe wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful, as always, but he wasn't bold enough to do it.
"Shut up or I'll take your wig off." You threatened him, he mocked you and rested his head on your shoulder.
And after that, Gwilym ordered everybody to join him. He came up with the beat of a new song he had been working on. Suddenly, all of you were clapping your hands at the third beat as Rami appeared and apologized for being late. He asked what was going on and Gwilym explained he wanted to give the audience a song they could perform and be part of it and you all began to sing and clap your hands.
"Cut!" The director shouted.
And everything was done. There were no scenes left, nothing else. After that, Rami suggested to go and have coffee. All of you were sat on the floor and drinking your coffee.
"I can't believe it's our last day." You said.
"I still remember the very first time you were on set." Gwilym said. "And the odd American accent." he moved his gaze from you to Joe and laughed.
"Oh no, please, I'm still ashamed of that." You begged him not no bring that back.
Memories from set were mentioned as you took a sip of coffee. You had a big smile on your face as you remembered probably one of the best days of your life and the best memory on set.
"Who's coming over?" You asked Rami, who was taking his crown off and put in on your head, you laughed.
"I don't know, darling. Maybe some fans." He shrugged. He got used to talking like Freddie.
After Freddie's party scene in Garden Lodge, the director suggedted to take a break and said that they had some guests on set that day.
"I thought we were going to film the I want to break free music video now." Gwilym said thoughtful with his hand on his chin.
"Hey mates, look who are here today!" Ben said as he, Joe and Lucy stood next to you, Rami and Gwilym and pointed at the door.
You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw them.
Brian May and Roger Taylor were a few feet away from you. Brian and Roger, from Queen, your favorite band, your idols.
"Hey folks, How are you doing today?" Asked Brian with a charming smile. 
Everybody greeted them but you. You were in shock, your face was as white as a sheet and your jaw was slacked. Lucy seemed to notice you and held your hand. 
Joe put his hand in your back and rubbed it softly. “Let’s go outside and catch some fresh air.” 
“Hey, who’s this pretty lady?” Roger asked. He took off his black glasses. 
“(Y/n) are you okay?” Lucy asked worried and the four men next to you turned to look. 
Oh God, you were absolutely nervous. Never in your craziest dreams you thought about having this opportunity. You knew that Brian and Roger sometimes visited the set but you didn’t think they would do it a day you were there. 
“I-I-I’m (Y/n)...” you extended your shaky hand. “Oh sorry for this, but I’m a big fan of Queen and...Oh God I can’t believe it!” Roger laughed and took your hand and shook it. You thought you were going to faint. You could feel your knees weaken. 
“No! I’m okay” You were shaking.
“Wow, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen some pictures of you here on set with these amazing people, you’re doing amazing.” He said and Brian nodded. 
“We’re finally meeting!” Brian said and you smiled with watery eyes. 
Joe wondered what made you deal with so much pain, you'd never said anything about that. He felt his heart broke at the mere thought of you being in pain.
Brian and Roger were absolutely grateful for your words. 
“I feel like I’m dreaming.” You laughed nervously. “You guys don’t have an idea of how much I appreciate you, your music helped me to heal so much pain and I will be forever grateful for that. I wanna show you something.” You said as you uncover your left wrist from your sleeve. You had a beautiful butterfly tattooed and under it, a lyric from one of your favorite songs by Queen, Spread your wings. “I’ve had this for over 12 years now and one of my biggest wishes was to show it to both of you someday and to thank you for everything."
“I’m glad our music help you in any possible way.” Brian said “And your tattoo is amazing. John would be very pleased If he saw it” You smiled. 
“I love it.” Roger said. “Hey Bri, why don’t we take a photo with her for Instagram?” 
“That would be nice.” 
Oh my God. 
"Let me be your photographer." Rami asked Brian for his phone and took some photos of your tattoo and others of you with them. A few minutes after that, your phone buzzed. Queen has tagged you on a post. 
@OfficialQueenMusic: “So glad to meet a fan today that will be part of our upcoming movie. Thank you for sharing your story with us @(y/n)(y/s/n) #BohemianRhapsody” 
That was, by far, the best day of your entire life. 
“Hey, come back to Earth, where are you?” Ben asked moving a hand in your face. You shook your head. 
“I was thinking about the first time I met Brian and Roger.” You blushed and he laughed.
“Oh, the day you almost pass out” Ben joked and you slapped him on his arm. “Hey, Am I telling a lie?” 
“Of course I almost pass out, my eyes were lucky to see Brian and Roger in person.” You and Ben giggled. 
“I’m going to miss you, do you know that?” Ben asked. 
“So do I!” You hugged him. Smiling. "You know I'm going to visit you."
Those weeks on set made you realize how lucky you were to find such incredible people. After years and years of being alone in your misery. After the countless nights you cried yourself to sleep and feeling like a piece of shit for being so alone in this world, everything was making sense now. 
You never told them about what you had been through. Being a teenager wasn’t easy. You wanted people to destroy the concept that your teenage years are supposed to be fun and those are the best years of your life because when you hit your late 20s, responsibilities are hard to manage and everything seems to be falling apart. Why couldn’t you be happy now?
Now, that you were 30, that everything was left behind. You wished you could say that you were a happy teenager and you didn’t have to fake a smile and pretend everything was okay. There were days you barely could get out of your house and see other people, or even worse, some days you couldn’t get out of bed and shower because there wasn’t any motivation at all. And no one understood. No one knew how hard it was being you, having such an stressful life that you worried about every little thing and it seemed you would never be at peace. You never felt safe. How hard it was to interact with others without thinking that they just did it to be nice to you or that they were desperately waiting for you to shut your fucking mouth. Isolation didn’t feel right. Loneliness didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right at all. You couldn’t keep pretending to be happy, you needed a reason to keep holding on, something that made you believe that your life was going to change, you wanted to be back on your feet and to know that all of that pain was gone.
Maybe it wasn’t so hard to be you, and eventually, you would find out where you belonged. You felt it was taking forever and you couldn’t wait for things to get better. You knew that someday things would be better and that your day would come. Sometimes you wished someone would save you, but you knew that you had to save yourself. If only you could find what you've been looking for. "How could this happen to me? "was the only thing that was always on your mind. You were sick of this life, you wanted to scream. You felt out of place, you were sick of feeling so left out.
And at that moment, you knew that your 18-year-old-self would be proud of you. Proud of the woman you had become and that now, all of your worries were left behind. You didn’t have to worry about that again, but it was still hard to open your heart and tell people about it. You weren’t embarrassed, it was part of you, part of your story but you didn’t want people to pity you. 
You didn’t realize you were almost crying until Joe spoke. 
“What’s going on?” He hugged you. Your vision was blurry, it was difficult for you to see clearly. You wiped your tears with your thumb and you chuckled. 
“I’m very emotional today. I’m grateful for everything that this movie brought me, especially the five of you.” 
There was a broad smile on Joe’s face. “Well, I’m glad you say that because you won’t get rid of me so easily, huh?” He joked. Joe always knew how to make you smile. But he was right, you lived like 30 minutes away from him, you would see each other everyday. “I have a list of places we’re visiting after coming back to New York.” 
“That’s why I love you.” You hugged him again. He smiled.
Joe felt something on his chest. He wished that I love you meant something else than being loved as a friend, but at the same time, he didn’t want to feel like this, he didn’t want to be in love again. Since his last girlfriend cheated on him with his friend, he couldn’t feel anything for someone. All of his dates failed and he decided to take some time for himself.
But there was something Joe couldn’t deny, when you were near, everything seemed so easy, he could look into your eyes and forget the world. 
“I love you even more.” 
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elaz-ivero · 3 years
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It's an Honour to Eclipse | {New WIP} |
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[image description: a storefront during midday with the sunlight bleaching giving the photo an orange tint. the glass door has a 'yes we are open sign' on it but the door and windows are behind iron bars. a rainbow is painted on the front of the building, on an angle white text in bold Garamond font reads, 'It's an Honour to Eclipse' beneath it in smaller font, 'A novella' is typed over the image. /end id]
Genre: LGBT +, Young Adult, Mild Mystery
Setting: Wellington, capital city of New Zealand
P.O.V: Third Person, Omniscient
Synopsis: Neveah after leaving university and moving into her first apartment is reinventing herself, discovering the city she lives in, finding the short-cuts, the cheapest restaurants, shaking her head. But when her estranged ex-boyfriend Oka disappears, no one seems invested in his disappearance, no one seems to be looking for the boy she stopped loving and yet his name keeps appearing, turning up in the margins of her life and Neveah is forced to confront the twisted history and secret life of the boy she intended to leave behind.
CW: Religion, drug use, smoking, police violence
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[image description: a skyline at dawn, the bottom of the image is cluttered with the tops of colourful houses, hotels, stores and apartment buildings, the sun brings out warm tones hidden in the paint. Above the tops of the buildings, a great blue sky stretches upward and clouds tinged with the yellow of a rising sun. Over the clouds in the centre of the images words in white bold Garamond font that read, 'WIP Beginnings' /end id.]
Frequently my subconscious approaches me with a set of storylines, a character name and a set of random scenes, It's An Honour To Eclipse was a small series of ideas that naturally grew the more I thought about them. I suppose this story came as the result of me moving into a boarding facility in the middle of the city and having to adapt to the fast-paced individualistic world of the great city. My own fear of the housing crisis and the crime rate of a busy city translated neatly into my main character whose whole life surrounds her trying to perfect some form of self-preservation.
The main drive of this story is her relationship or now lack thereof with Oka, a mysterious unfinished boy who drifts in and out of the story. I still don't know where this novella might leave, maybe Oka's captured by an underground secret society of 'face stealers' or people that replace talented local artists. I honestly have no clue but for now, I'm putting it under the vague category of 'mild mystery'. Often, when writing I don't have a firm understanding of my characters or of the ending that is about to surface I follow the flow of expectations and allow my characters personalities and ambitions to drive the story toward its conclusion. Right now Oka takes over the passages, slips into chapters not intended to be given to him, simply because he is a mystery to me and I want to figure out why this boy disappeared and the clues in his behaviour, in the known parts of him.
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[image description: a pale arm is turned toward the camera, the cuff of a chunky knit mustard coloured sweater can be seen at the top right-hand corner of the image. At the centre of the image is a coloured tattoo, a renaissance angel holding a branch of baby's breath and wearing a brown and creme-tone cloth himation. In the bottom left-hand corner of the image white bold Garamond text reads, 'Characters' /end id.]
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[image description: two images are collaged together, one portion of the image is a close up of a women face she has dark skin and brown eyes, the other portion of the image is another woman on public transit adjacent to a window showing a brick apartment passing by. Slightly central is text in bold white Garamond font that reads, 'Neveah' /end id.]
Neveah, the main character, Spanish and the first female in her family to graduate from university. She's stuck in a cramped apartment and her style consists of what she finds for free on the sidewalk and the brightest clothing at the second-hand opportunity shops. Committed the relationship sin of getting matching tattoos with a boyfriend she couldn't introduce to her parents, a tattoo of the window of their shared apartments in Neveah's there is a sunset in Oka's it's a night full of stars. Neveah is cautious and constantly conscious of how she can improve her situation and herself and tries to best facilitate her own growth.
More points:
Loves sparkling peach and mango juice
Deals with her problems mainly by listening to audiobooks all night and visiting the aquarium to feed the manta rays and stare at fish for hours, at least their coping mechanisms that aren't too harmful.
Neveah has an obligatory shrine to Jesus with the little framed photo...well painting of the son of God sent to her by her parents.
Dangly earrings and platform sneakers are her ish.
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[image description: an overexposed photograph of two people, a girl and a boy in a lounge. The girl is sitting up on the couch, a blanket piled over her, one bare leg is extended in front of her. A boy leans against the couch, shirtless and with curly brown hair he looks off into the distance a pillow balanced in his lap. There is a pot plant on a small coffee table in the upper right-hand corner of the image and the ends of some pale curtains fall in the frame at the top of the image. On the bottom left-hand corner text in white bold Garamond font reads, 'Oka', there is texture on the image as though some tape had been laid over the left edge or a rip has been repaired. /end id.]
Oka is a mess, a boy reliant on Neveah's help to get dressed, make the bed, do the groceries. He's tall with brown hair he dyes grey and when he first meets Neveah he's almost quit smoking but crashes back into his addiction when they start dating and every week picks up a bulk box of discontinued unfiltered cigarettes. His dealer likes Neveah and gives her chocolate as a part of the deal and Oka made his living by picking up odd artistic jobs, being a nude model every Thursday, volunteering at an art club and working as a waiter at a local bar. Absolutely hates his Art history degree and will fight their landlord if the rent rises.
More brief points:
Thinks he's super cool for owning a white zippo.
Unironically owns two cowboy hats.
Is actually a pretty good artist but rarely finishes a piece.
Likes ginger drinks and strawberry milk.
Is temporarily nocturnal.
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[image description: a wall of framed photographs and paintings, they are organised together in a way that is both scattered and organized. In the bottom right-hand corner there are two lit candles and on the right of an image, a monstera plant is in the corner of the cream-coloured walls. Someone holds a mug in the bottom right-hand corner. In the centre of the image text in bold white Garamond font reads, 'Planning Excerpts. /end id.]
A set of opening lines;
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[image description: Over a dark image of pale pink roses growing against a white concrete wall. White text over the image reads, 'For two months all I could think about was diluting detergent- She took the time to change herself, paint thick lines around her eyes and contour muscles she didn't have. She remembered, however, the intricate way that he took up space-" /end id.]
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[image description: A city skyline against a greyish blue sky, the building are in tones of brown, red, orange and yellow. In the upper right-hand corner orange text in Garamond font reads, 'Oka took his time, hours to get dressed, hours to eat, every day was half-lived from midday till three hours before midnight.' /end.id]
I see this story changing and developing the more time I put into it but for now, it is made up of its central characters, the colours I associate with the grand city and the mysterious implications of finding someone yourself.
That's an Honour To Eclipse in its rough beginning stages, I'm looking forward to sharing its progress.
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-E
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sunarintoes · 4 years
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Synopsis: Yn Ln is an environmentalist - Miyagi University’s very own campus ‘Green Thumb.’ One day Hinata Shōyō who happens to be a close friend of Yn, invites them to come to one of his races. The only problem is that this race of his, is illegal. Read the journey of Yn who has been sucked into the world of illegal street racing with the one goal: to create an eco-friendly race car.
WC: 1.8K
Note: is this character development I smell? 👀
Vanilla Bean Frappe
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You slowly make your way down to the Karasuno club room, Sugawara had run off to the bathroom which left you alone; not that you minded of course. Sometimes a little bit of peace and quiet while you wander past various different crews is nice. It allows you to have the freedom of walking from place to place and being able to let your eyes roam around your surroundings. Normally with Sugawara you had only kept your eyes on him and the road ahead, not wanting to seem disinterested in the many things he talked about. You notice how the clubrooms are closely packed together, the smaller teams sit in one area while the bigger teams are only a few metres apart - and that the more… successful crews have more members and a larger room. Shiratorizawa was slightly larger than Dateko’s, Seijoh and Karasuno’s. You guess it's simply because they are the champions and need the extra room to store their trophies. Dateko and Karasuno are on the same side, Seijoh and Shiratorizwa mirror them which forms a square between them. You let a small smile ease it’s way onto your face, it was freezing but you were excited to speak with Shouyou and congratulate him on his race. 
You freeze when you hear a quiet sob, you narrow your eyes as you look around you but no one seems to be crying - there’s no one outside either. Just when you get ready to move again you hear another sob, and against your brain’s desire, you make your way to the sound. You can't help yourself, you hate it when someone is in pain.
There is a figure hunched over behind a tree and from where you’re standing they look like a guy. You slowly walk up to them and put your hand on their shoulder before crouching down next to them; ‘hey are you alright-- Oikawa! What are you doing here?’
Oikawa wipes the tears off of his face and looks away from you, his body shrinking into itself as if he was trying to protect himself. ‘Listen up, brat, I don't care about you nor do I know you. Why are you here? What did I do to deserve being plagued by you? Why can't you just leave me alone huh?’
You retract your hand and let out a long sigh. He was obviously upset and didn't mean the things he said; or maybe he did, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was that you knew he was alright - even if you despised him to some degree. ‘Oikawa… I’m sorry, I'm not sure what’s made you so distraught but I want to help… is there anything I can do-’
‘No! Just leave! I don't want nor do I need you here.’
The kind smile you put up to comfort him shakes a little before it regains its composure. ‘Should I get Hajime?’
The atmosphere becomes deafeningly silent and stays that way for a minute, ‘no,’ he whispers as more tears roll down his crimson cheeks, ‘I know we have this strange relationship where we both dislike each other but do me a solid, don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.’
You have to lean in close to hear him and you find yourself shivering at his voice, it was smooth and sweet like chocolate and you think it suits him completely. ‘I promise, and I know we don't like each other, but I have an idea to make you feel better… let's be friends for the night,’ you say as you place your hand back on his shoulder.
He flinches like last time while he looks at you - shock written all over his face, ‘I'm sorry what?’
You lose your balance which results into you falling onto your behind and you feel your face heat up; ‘I- well, it's just that I thought maybe we could just head over to some fast food restaurant and get you a drink to cheer you up and get your mind off of whatever and, and I uh thought maybe it was best to go with me because um I don't know maybe a stranger’s company is what you need?’
He scowls at you before sighing and getting up, ‘yeah… maybe you’re right. Let's be friends for the night.’
✄.
You find yourself in the passenger seat of Oikawa’s car and despite your initial thoughts, the car doesn't smell half bad - in fact it smells good, it reminds you of hot cocoa on a winter’s day. You look out the window and see the street lamps fly by and soon enough, you arrive at an all day Starbucks located at a seemingly abandoned gas station. 
Oikawa gets out of the car first and walks around to open the door for you; ‘you didn't have to do that…’
‘I didn't but I did anyway so you should be saying thank you.’
You resist the urge to scoff and instead, opt to roll your eyes in a semi playful manner, ‘yeah you're right, thank you my King,’ you fake courtesy after you get out.
You look up to see him scowling down at you but still doing his best to bite down a smile, ‘come on, let's just get a drink and never speak again.’ You laugh at that.
✄.
‘I'll get one vanilla bean frappe, thank you, oh uh… medium size thank you!’
‘Your orders will be ready shortly!’ says the cashier.
Oikawa leads you over to an empty table that was seated towards the back of the food court. ‘So you have a sweet tooth huh?’
‘Yeah I guess… could say the same for you? An iced coffee with caramel.’
His lips twitch up into a smile, ‘yeah I guess.’
You sigh as you lean back into the chair, ‘we totally got off on the wrong foot, didn't we?’
Oikawa looks out the window, ‘yeah we totally did… I guess I'm partly to blame.’
You make a sound of agreement, ‘yep. I know you said that this would be a one time thing, but I think so far it’s been nice to be with someone who doesn't really know you. I'm not sure… I'm tired so I'm really just rambling.’
‘No, I understand perfectly. Being with a stranger, someone who doesn’t know you, feels free I guess. They don't know what's going on in your head and they are entitled to know how you're feeling or whatever.’
Silence takes over as you both continue to drink. ‘Maybe… maybe we could become friends or something?’
Oikawa sighs and looks at you with an unreadable expression, ‘no. That's the deal we made, we aren't going to become friends. But… you did help me feel a bit better I guess, I'm not crying anymore so that's a plus…’
You bite your lip and look away, contemplating on what to say next. Oikawa’s gaze is still focused on you, making you feel small. You look him in the eyes, ‘let's stay as strangers.’
He lets out an amused scoff, ‘stay as strangers? What's the supposed to mean?
Suddenly you feel nervous, naked and exposed. ‘Well I just thought that uh maybe, maybe you and I could, umm, we could y'know do this every so often? But stay as strangers… we just meet up get a drink and stay in each other’s presence but we don't get to know each other-’
‘I like it. But let's set some rules as well, yeah?’ your eyes widen in shock, you didn't think he would actually agree. ‘First off, no interacting with each other away from this, and if we do we continue to be rude to each other? We stay as far away as possible - mentally that is.’
‘Second rule, no falling in love.’
‘Shouldn't that be obvious?’
‘I- yes, yes it should but you seem to have a thick skull so I have to make sure you know.’
He smirks, ‘well, looks like you can be mean.’
‘What's that supposed mean!?’
‘Oh? Absolutely nothing darling,’ oh, there it is; that irritating pet name, ‘let's continue with our rules. I say for rule three we tell nobody.’
‘Agreed, so far we have, one - stay as strangers, two - don't fall in love slash become friends and three, tell nobody. How about one more, we can confide in our problems with each other but not get to know each other on a personal level?’
‘I like that.’ he smiles, and God it is so beautiful. I think that’s about right. How about I take you home?’
You look up at him and smile, ‘that’d be helpful.’
✄.
You watch as Oikawa’s car speeds off into the night before you make your way to your apartment which is regrettably on the third floor. Trudging up the stairs you curse at yourself for making a deal with the devil - no, not Oikawa, but with the landlord who told you that the ‘three flights of stairs was short and easy to walk up.’ What utter bullshit. 
You pull out your apartment keys and go to open the door but something is blocking your way. Looking up from the floor you find this something to be someone, and this very someone is the very ex-lover who shattered your heart. ‘Kiyoko,’ your voice is breathy and shaky, it sounds as though you are trying to convince yourself that what you see before you is real and not an illusion.
She looks down, ‘hey Yn,’ she starts off softly, ‘I thought maybe we could talk… you weren't at The Garage tonight with everyone else and I assumed you still lived in the same apartment.’
You glare at her, ‘I'm sorry what? How do you know about The Garage?’
Kiyoko looks taken aback, ‘I'm the other manager. You didn't know that?’
Now it's your turn to be confused, ‘no, no I did not. I just assumed that someone had the same name as you…’ you felt like an idiot because what you are telling her is the honest truth. 
She quietly giggles, ‘I see. Well I haven't been there the past two weeks… I've been out of town-’
‘Please just get to the point,’ you beg.
‘I think it’s fate. I want to give it another go- I want to give us another go. I still have your number and I know you still have mine…’
You scowl at her as you walk past into your apartment, ‘and get my heartbroken? Again! No thanks.’ And with that, the conversation is over and the door is slammed on Kiyoko’s face.
You walk into your room and sit besides the bed. Kiyoko’s offer is tempting, you really do want nothing more than to climb back into her arms and inhale her scent, you want nothing more than for her to run her hands through your hair as she places delicate kisses to your forehead. ‘Fuck!’ you yell out.
✄.
Kiyoko walks down the stairs to Sugawara’s car, ‘How’d it go?’ he asks. She looks away and he takes it as a sign that she doesn't want to speak about it. ‘Still, I really had no idea you and Yn had a history like that… Why did you two break up?’ She stays silent and Sugawara knows he should drop the subject.
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Taglist: @dadchi-oya @cutepet09
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verobatto · 4 years
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Destiel Chronicles
Vol. XLII
It was a love story from the very beginning.
Just You and Me
(9x06)
Hello My Friends!!! How are you? I'm here again with another meta from this series. This time is time for a very Destiel one, episode 9x06 Heaven can't wait.
I know is a very analyzed episode, well known by all the FANDOM, so I will be quick with some scenes, just mentioning things that we all know, and pointing mostly how the characters felt during the different scenes.
I want to say thank you to my friend @agusvedder , she made the gifs for this meta and discussed with me the episode. Thank you girl! 😘💕
Pain-Lost-Depression
I'm gonna start talking about the Rit Zien (in enochian means HANDS OF MERCY), this different class of angels assisted in the battlefield helping angels wounded to heal, and giving peace (by ending with them) to those who were past saving, wounded with emotional damage.
Let's swim now through his victims in this episode and why he chose Castiel like one of them.
The first victim was a man who had lost his wife, so, he was depressed, he couldn't handle his lost, the love of his life. He had a huge pain he even called to suicide line. The Rit Zien appeared a vanished him, into micro molecules, and the color was PINK.
You know pink represents Happiness, so, we could infer this angel tried to give the pain a relief. To transform it into happiness in Heaven.
The second victim was a girl, who had just break up to his boyfriend, and she was saying this exactly words .. pay attention...
GIRL He dumped me, Jace. (pause) In the cafeteria. In front of everyone. It's just like ... who does that, you know? Like, why couldn't he just dump me on Facebook like a normal person? (pause) I've been destroyed. Socially and romantically … totaled. (pause) I know. I'm just so embarrassed, Jace. I could just die.
She's recalling us to Castiel, and how Dean dumped him from the bunker. And she's describing her feelings, so we can think Cas is feeling dumped, destroyed and embarrassed.
So... Then... Cas must be very upset with Dean. As we will see in the next point, he is.
But now, when the Rit Zien heard her asking for death, he just gave her death, and happiness in Heaven, as we could see when he transformed that girl in pink color.
So, two cases about two people in love, one had lost his wife, and was deeply depressed, and the second one was dumped by her boyfriend, feeling embarrassed.
And if you pay attention too to Castiel's singing to the baby, the lyrics are very melancholic... Flying away in a wing and a prayer... He misses being an angel, he said it again while he was trying to calm the baby, touching his forehead...
After talking with the baby about how it felt being a human all of the sudden, he says...
CASTIEL: (...) You know, it wasn't that long ago when all I'd need to do to ease your pain was touch you.
So... This is melancholy, sadness...
But let's come back to the logic of the victims... As I said first one... Two cases related with lover lost, a girl dumped by his boyfriend...
Then... Castiel being the third victim, shouldn't surprise us at all...
CASTIEL: It's a fever, Ephraim. It will pass.
(Cas thought the angel had came for the baby)
ANGEL (EPHRAIM): You remember my name? I was just a nobody when we met, but you – you were a legend. You've been here before. This is my first time, and it's ... intense.
The Rit Zien remarked Cas was a legend, so he felt honored he could remember his name, but also, and this is very interesting, he's talking about being surrounded by humans, and Hyman's feelings SO INTENSE. I'm pointing this, because there's a scene in the car with Dean in which Case says everything is different, about feelings, about being a human. I just want you to keep this in mind for the next points.
CASTIEL: How'd you find me?
EPHRAIM: Because you're warded? The same way I find all my patients – I just followed the sound of your pain. You have no idea how loud it is. I could hear you for miles
This has to caught our attention. Castiel is in pain, huge pain. He's depressed. He lost his grace, he had to for through being homeless, starved, facing our most deep decadency. And then he had to suffered Dean's rejection. Castiel, who had learn now what his feelings were. As a human, he's sure now that strong feeling he had for Dean is LOVE, and being dumped by him, leaving him in the streets again, is a deep pain, a deep wound, just as painful like losing his grace. So, his pain was loud.
Cas is mad at Dean, and Dean wants see him desperately
Okay, now that we talked about the case, let's focus in Destiel.
Castiel called Dean for the case... And Dean noticed Cas was kind of... Weird, and maybe mad, this made him anxious, and he decided to go to that case ALONE, and find Cas, just in case...
But really, the conversation they had by the phone is hilarious. First of all, Dean stood up and walked away from Kevin and Sam, when he realized it was Cas. Looking for privacy??
DEAN: Hello?
CASTIEL (calling from the Gas'n'Sip) I may have a case for you. (CASTIEL is cleaning the slurpee machine while he talks.) Four missing in Rexford, Idaho. (DEAN stands up, walking away from the table.) Presumed dead, but no bodies have been released to loved ones. And, there were reports of a strange substance at the scenes.
Okay, we'll just stop here, notice how Dean says HELLO but Castiel doesn't, he just goes straight to the point of his call, this is the first sign that he's mad, he wouldn't call, but he has this case, so he had to. Not a nice thing to do for him, because he would prefer no to pass for this. Not to talk with the one that dumped him.
DEAN: Oh, well, hello to you too, Cas. How are you?
Dean noticed that too, and he insists with the HELLO, and he asks how Cas is doing. He knows Cas must be mad at him.
CASTIEL: I ... am busy.
Cas cut him. He was actually, nervously trying to... Do something with the smoothie machine.
DEAN shakes his head.
DEAN All right. So, how do you want to do this?You want to meet up at the latest scene? You want me to pick you up? What?
Dean is proposing see each other, he wants to work with him, Dean wants to see him.
CASTIEL's efforts with the Slushy machine are not going well. A flood of liquid blue slushy mix spills out over the machine and onto the floor. DEAN hears the trickling sound and looks puzzled.
CASTIEL Um … I've got my hands full over here. I just – um...
And this is when Cas gets flustered and the machine is a mess of blue liquid all over the floor. Is not coincidence that when Dean offered Cas an encounter, the mess with the blue fuold happened. Is a consequence of Castiel feeling nervous, an encounter with Dean is something that gets him flustered. Nervous. Anxious. Now that Castiel is a human, he understands clearly what happens in his heart with Dean. He knows that feeling is LOVE. So, isn't that easy, being dumped, get mad, and now calling him, and now seeing him again? Too intense.
DEAN Cas? Hello?
Dean is convinced now that Cas is mad at him, so he decided to go ALONE to see him.
He invented some excuses because Sam wanted to go with him, he tries to minimize the importance of the case, but that made it more suspicious, so Sam asks...
SAM: So, he said nothing about where he is or – or what he's been doing?
DEAN: This is Cas. In case you forgot, he's not exactly Chatty Cathy.
SAM (incredulously) And you're not even gonna see him when you're in Idaho?
DEAN: Well, like I said, as long as he's catnip for angels, he's keeping his distance.
DEAN turns to continue walking, now leaving the room.
SAM: So then, what's the point, Dean? I mean, it's barely even a case.
Sam couldn't understand why his brother was almost running to that "not case" so fast, answering all his questions with not very truly answers.
DEAN (from a balcony, talking down to the other two) That's why I'm just gonna go have a little look-see, and … we're not gonna waste a whole lot of manpower on a big pile of nada.
And then Kevin gave him the perfect excuse...
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Dean must be thinking... Thanks Kevin, over there... Finally alone, just Cas and him.
Jilted Lover and pining boy
We know Misha Collins said producers asked him to play this scene like a jilted Lover, and he did it perfect.
We had this classic Destiel scene... Dean talking with Sam by the phone, outside the Impala, drinking a coffee, we don't see more... Till this happens...
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Dean lowered his head, because he had it covered, he doesn't need his brother help, because he has Cas. And he wants to be alone with him, this gesture, he gets a little nervous over there, like... Anxious... Why? Because he's doing this... This is his cover...
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This is pining, my friends, no friend stays out of the window CONTEMPLATING his handsome best friend working, like... If this isn't pining what is is then? Why he would stop by Castiel's work, watching him for so long?? He wasn't afraid, because when he finally made his dramatic entrance, he wasn't ashamed, so, he just does it because he wanted to contemplate him. Because he is pining for him. Because he contemplates the man he loves. People that are in love do that. Period.
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When Dean appears in front of Cas, Castiel's fav is priceless. He's surprised, but it seems like of his heart just gave a jump! Like OMG! HE'S HERE! WHY?
Look at the deception in Dean's face, again Cas is not saying him hello. And he was waiting for a better response. But, okay, Cas is mad, some maybe not a good response, but at least a HI.
After this, Castiel gets mad again because Dean is disappointed to find him working there and not hunting. Cas names the whole situations he had to go through, because he can't believe Dean shows up as if dumping him from the bunker was nothing...
CASTIEL: My Grace is gone. What did you expect? Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to earth, I didn't just lose my powers. I – I had nothing. Now... I'm a sales associate (proudly)
Castiel is proud, he's showing Dean LOOK HOW I GOT THIS WITHOUT YOUR HELP. I DID IT BY MYSELF.
But Dean doesn't want this for Cas and mostly, he needs him back with him, even if it has to be just for one case. So he will try to convince him, just like the old times.
Then... Nora enters in the scene. At first Dean made his wtf and jealous face when he sees the heart eyes. And then he plays the NO HOMO BUDDY right there.
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Trying to get some info, and the result is Cas has a date!
Flirting
After recognize the case was about a Rit Zien, Dean wants him to be aboard with him to stop the angel... But Castiel says this...
CASTIEL: But he just got here. The ebb and flow of human emotion – Dean, I've been on earth for a few years, and I've only begun to grasp it. To him, pain is pain.
And then this...
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That's why I said before keep in mind the INTENSE word about Human's feelings. Cas is getting now what is this all about. He's getting know the intensity of the feelings... Love, hate, pain, depression, sadness, joy. He is experiencing all of them. That's why I truly believe he understood what he felt for Dean.
I readed once @amwritingmeta post about this scene here, and the second meaning of I NEED A RIDE and the face Dean made... And I laughed so hard, because she showed in that post the wishfully and lustful face Dean showed. Priceless. Pay attention... When Cas says I NEED A RIDE, Dean's imagination was... To... Where? Cas having a good ride? By whom? Him? Okay. Too hilarious, but Jensen did it. Jensen made that face in Dean's skin... Dirty pining boy for his ex hot angel.
Then he turned to Cas to see if he realized what he had just Sayed, and of course he doesn't!
So... Second meaning for flirting... Is not gonna work Dean...
Tony Manero
When Cas and Dean were in the car, and Castiel was about to get out on his date, Dean says this words that generally are used when someone who's in love with the person is about to having a date with a third one, says to stop him. And our hearts stopped right there... But Dean Winchester made it NO HOMO again, talking about the wardrobe.
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Even Cas has a hint of hopes in his eyes, why Dean would choose those words right there? Because he was feeling like that, he was still flirting with him, he was jealous, and he didn't want to let the angel go. But his repressed feelings won't let him verbalize it. So... He plays it...
DEAN: Okay. Uh, lose the vest.
CASTIEL: What are you –
Even Cas doesn't get what Dean wants, not even Dean knows it either...
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Okay this was very gay, very. And Dean drooling face calling his friend TONY MANERO like the pining boy he is for his gorgeous and hot ex angel friend.
Comparing Castiel with Tony Manero, Made us go to that movie immediately, and to one scene in the car between John Travolta (Tony Manero) and his friend, Stephanie. (Thanks to Agus for show me the scene and discuss with me this). And I know this had been talked largely in the fandom, the frames and the position of the actors were the same like Dean with Cas, but is very interesting the dialogue. Tony was helping Stephanie to move on into a new house with a married man who was using her. When Tony detects this, they both had a conversation in the car and Tony made a jealous scene. Asking for that man, saying her he was using her, and she breaks talking about how that man helped her, that she was alone. You don't know what I had to go through. Is a huge Cas parallel, when Dean starts to recriminate him about his job in the Gas'n sip. And a Jealous Tony is compared with jealous!Dean about Nora. And don't forget, Nora was using Castiel like baby-sitter.
So because Dean was jealous... He was acting like the best friend giving his buddy advices about the date. But he was being ambiguous, like half flirting and acting gay and half giving advices and no homo. The truth was, he was drooling for Cas, pining for him... Even my mom saw that!
But let's return again to Cas in his "date"...
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We saw how Dean contemplates Castiel again while he was walking towards that door, collecting a rose, smiling like a dummie because Cas looks so cute doing that. And the writers showed us Cas sucking his finger because one spine hurted him? Like? Why show something so sexy while Dean is watching? Do I need to add more here?
This was a huge romantic Destiel scene, with reference to a romantic movie, and we were witness of that!
Good Bye
Another Destiel scene, and this will be the last, sorry for the extension of this meta, is the goodbye scene. We had Dean with a half I'm sorry (because he couldn't say the truth, and Cas being so sad.
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Pay attention when Cas is leaving, Dean's painful expression, the guilt and the repressed feelings... He really wants to tell Cas everything and bring him home with him, desperately... But he can't, and is so painful to him. Castiel is sad too, their faces are... Just sadness and pain. They don't like to be apart from each other... Damn...
To Conclude:
Episode 9x06 was a very Destiel chapter. We had the reference to Castiel's depression for lost his grace and being dumped by Dean.
We had a desperate Dean to fix things with his angel, running at his first call, insisting for his help, desperate for having a hint just the two of them. Being jealous, flirty, and very in love with his ex angel buddy.
The car scene with the reference to Tony Manero (a bi vives character in one of the most famous romantic movies), and the two CONTEMPLATING THE LOVE OF MY LIFE scenes, marked this episode like one of the most romantic episode in the whole show.
I hope you like this meta, see you in the next!
Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper
@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica
If you want to be tagged, just let me know.
If you want to read my previous metas about s9, you have the links here and here.
Buenos Aires, December 18th 2019 7:37 PM
173 notes · View notes
satonthelotuspier · 4 years
Note
I'm seeing prompts on your site and does that mean you are accepting them right now? I've never requested a prompt before and I don't know what to do? But if I'm doing it right I'd really like to see 13 for XueXiao from the bodyguard au prompt list? Fluffy or angsty, as you please. Am I doing this right?
OK so Im being obvious, but this contains XueXiao.
Modern Bodyguard AU so none of the complications of canon apply.
Now the disclaimers are out of the way, I have to apologise to the very patient @amaskinamirror bc this took so much longer to write than I expected. The reason being most of my prompt fics end up around the 1k-1.4k word mark and this kept going and kept going because there was a story there. It came in around the 4.5k work mark. Think of it as added value, unless you hate it in which case it’s not ;)
Pompts from this post here
Part 2 now available here
Xue Yang is the enfant terrible of the music world and his manager has pretty much had enough of his shitty behaviour. Features a thorny Xue Yang shaped by the worlds opinions of him, and a hardass yet caring Xiao Xingchen who maybe might just start to see beyond the lies.
Possible triggers/warnings: Also features swearing, man-handling, use of a date rape drug, minor injury and blood. Luckily XXC is there to save the day in all situations.
Xue Yang was woken up from a deep, no doubt alcohol-induced, sleep to the feeling of cold water being splashed in his face.
He shot upright coughing and spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes, trying to process what the hell had happened. The unconscious bodies around him all started to stir and groan back to lucidity.
Xue Yang followed the long line of the leg in front of him up to eventually meet a pair of dark eyes staring down at him without expression.
“What the fuck?” he demanded and tried to get up but someone he didn’t even remember the name of was laid across his legs.
It had been another party. One where they’d drunk hard and passed out before dawn some time; he didn’t know half the people here. That had never stopped him. Being the enfant terrible of the music industry took both time, effort and commitment.
The tall man bent down to extricate him, then yanked him to his feet.
“You have rehearsals in ninety minutes. Get showered, you smell like a brewery” a garment bag was pushed into his hands then he was waved in the direction of the hotel suite’s bathroom.
“Excuse me, but just who the fuck are you?” honestly his head felt a little woolly still from the after-effect of the alcohol he’d been drinking, but he was sure he didn’t know who this man was or what he was doing in his hotel suite.
“Your Fairy Godmother, Cinderella, now go get a shower, you’re wasting time”
Xue Yang grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket, “Don’t bullshit me”
The hand that clamped around his wrist was steel-like, “Your new security. Your manager sends his regards. I won’t tell you to go and shower again”
“Firstly, if you are security you are not my boss, so you can stop with the ordering me around like I’m your little bitch, secondly, you are my security? I’m sure if a duckling gets too close you’ll do a great job, otherwise…” he was going to push the other away, sure because of his willowy frame it would be easy. Quite how he ended up in an armlock and being dragged to the bathroom he didn’t know. He bit his tongue to stifle the cry of pain; no way would he utter the noise aloud. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snarled as the other kept going into the bathroom.
“I’ve already explained. I’m not going to repeat myself” the man opened the shower door, pushed Xue Yang into the cubicle and pushed the on button.
Of course Xue Yang never learned his lesson; he launched himself at the other only to bounce off the cubicle door as the other shut it behind him, holding it closed.
“New world order, xiao-Xue, get used to being my little bitch” the other grinned as Xue Yang punched the glass then yelled at the pain in his hand, “Clean up, I don’t want to be forced to come in there and clean you up myself”
***
Xue Yang curled himself up as small as possible on the back seat of the car; he was in high sulk. After calling his manager to demand an explanation of what was going on Jin Guangyao had told him in no uncertain terms he’d better get used to the idea of Xiao Xingchen being around. His new security was not only there to provide for his personal safety after a spate of disturbing mail (more disturbing than the usual run of the mill threats at least), but to whip him into some kind of shape as Jin Guangyao was convinced his terrible behaviour, bad reputation and general personality was about to lose them some very large contracts.
Everyone loved a bad boy in theory, but when it began to affect his ability to make his management company money then they were definitely going to act to protect their asset.
And that had come in the form of Xiao Xingchen, who looked as gentle and fragile as an orchid but who had already handed Xue Yang his ass once today already.
“A-Qing, I need breakfast” Xue Yang whined at his assistant as his stomach rumbled for the fourth time.
“You shouldn’t have upset the new bodyguard then” she mocked him quietly, and he retreated even more, pulling the hood of his jacket up and wrapping his arms around his knees as A-Qing took pity on him and leaned forward to ask the driver to stop at a nearby coffee shop.
They did, and A-Qing and the driver returned with coffees for all and a bag full of muffins.
Lao-Xia, the driver, and A-Qing had been with Xue Yang long enough to not meet his gaze as they started on their own food; Xiao Xingchen had no such warning; he was too busy goggling at Xue Yang who had made his own muffin disappear like a magician with a rabbit.
“Are you going to eat that?” Xue Yang asked, pointing at the baked bun in Xiao Xingchen’s hand.
He simply offered it over; perhaps surprised at the demonstration of the speed at which a muffin could be demolished without trace.
The second one followed the first in quick order and Xue Yang froze as the other reached  over to brush the crumbs that had stuck to the corner of his mouth away with a thumb.
“You don’t want the Paparazzi to catch that” he said simply before turning in his seat to look out of the windscreen and sip at his coffee.
Xue Yang curled back in on himself and held his ridiculously sweet iced coffee to his chest.
“You eat too much sugar” Xiao Xingchen told him as Lao-Xia started the car and set off driving to the studio, “You need something to give you energy for the first meal of the day”
“Good luck with that, he functions on pure sugar and supplements” A-Qing mocked and Xue Yang shot her an annoyed look.
***
Xue Yang didn’t know why he was surprised the next morning when he was awoken by a solid shake to the shoulder.
He hadn’t been able to avoid the other to sneak off to party last night so he wasn’t hung over but that didn’t mean he was any more amenable to the idea of waking up.
“Come on Sleeping Beauty, you have to be at your first interview in an hour”
Interviews. His mortal enemy. The thing he hated most in the world. And he was still no better at dealing with them than he had been as a fresh face on the music scene, where the press had crucified him, thrown every painful fact of his past in his face and then painted him as a troubled bad boy with a temper; a role he’d eventually just given up fighting against and embraced.
He threw the blankets over his head; maybe if he just went back to sleep the interview would disappear.
The blankets were thrown back.
“Dude, what the fuck?” he demanded, was he allowed no privacy at all anymore?
“Get up” Xiao Xingchen jerked his head towards the bathroom.
“Fuck off. I’m not going” he reached out to push the other away.
It went about as well as yesterday had for him; he ended up face down on the bed with his arm locked up between his shoulder blades.
“Are you going to learn any time soon? I mean, kudos for persistence but lose points for stupidity. Now, last chance to get up on your own, otherwise I’ll throw you over my shoulder and you can go dressed like that”
Xue Yang wasn’t sure he believed the other was strong enough to actually carry him out of the hotel room, but he daren’t take the chance he might be dragged out kicking and screaming and dressed in his ratty old t-shirt and shorts.
“Fine, yes, I’m getting up. Let me go, please” as a street child he’d learned to beg prettily and it wasn’t a skill he was averse to using if he needed to, to survive. It didn’t need to be sincere, it just needed to sound it, to be calculated to pull on the other’s heart strings.
It didn’t seem to affect Xiao Xingchen, but he was released nonetheless.
***
Xue Yang of course arrived on time for his first interview, (there were three in total scheduled for today), as far as they went it wasn’t particularly gruelling for him, but he was fully aware he was a mess by the end of it; he’d probably come across like he was on drugs, but it wasn’t like that would be the first, second or third time the rumour would circulate in relation to him.
He knew Xiao Xingchen eyed him in consideration, but he ignored it; he didn’t have the presence of mind to survive the next two interviews and worry about what his new security agent was judging him for today.
He was much worse by the end of the second; he had been left alone a sitting room of the hotel the interview’s had been arranged at and he lowered his head into his hands, trying to even out his breathing and calm himself. His professionalism would be questioned even further if he failed to complete the last interview, or screwed up during it.
He felt the couch dip next to him, “Here” he looked up, poison on his tongue ready to be spit at Xiao Xingchen when he realised the other held out one of those large chocolate chip cookies in a napkin. There was also iced coffee sat on the table in front of him.
“Just relax, empty your head, and focus on the cookie” Xiao Xingchen informed him; raising an eyebrow as Xue Yang didn’t immediately accept the confectionery from him.
He took it with tentative thanks; and it vanished almost immediately once he’d decided to accept the gesture. Once he’d gotten the sugary coffee inside him too he felt much better.
***
Despite his trash reputation he wasn’t late for a single appointment over the next weeks; Jin Guangyao assured him it was perfectly alright to project the rebel for the masses but when you played the brat with the people in the business you’d soon be blacklisted; a risk he wasn’t willing to take with Xue Yang.
Xue Yang hadn’t managed to get near alcohol or a party in that time due to Xiao Xingchen’s hawk eyes and iron control.
Since the second morning though instead of being woken up with a bucket of water to the face or bickering the other had started showing up with a sweet pastry and a staggeringly sugary iced coffee which he traded off for Xue Yang eating better at other mealtimes.
Overall it didn’t seem Xue Yang had a moment of time where the other wasn’t somewhere close, controlling everything, keeping a watchful eye out.
And it bothered Xue Yang; he didn’t get used to the feeling of Xiao Xingchen being there like he’d been assured he would. He was still hyper aware of him, and he didn’t necessarily think it was because he was intimidated, despite the fact they’d had a few more altercations, none of which ended well for Xue Yang.
***
He tried to ditch his new security for his monthly visit to the orphanage his charity had built and ran; the less people who knew about it the better. Of course he couldn’t shake the other off so he had to attend followed by Xiao Xingchen, and explain to the children who the tall ge was. He was a great hit with them, and although Xue Yang pretended to be annoyed at Xiao Xingchen getting all the attention that the youngsters usually showered on him secretly he was entertained as he watched the other romp with the rough kids, or play softly with the quieter ones.
“This is the first time you’ve brought a bodyguard” he turned slightly at the sound of Tian Ying, the matron of the orphanage and the woman who’d helped bring him up in a similar institution when he had been a boy had come up beside him. “Are you in danger, xiao-Xue?”
“Of course not” he didn’t consider the crazy mail Jin Guangyao was filtering from him any more of a threat than any of the other mail he’d received in the last few years, and he definitely didn’t want her to worry about him, “They just decided I needed someone to carry my bags for me”
He didn’t have time to say much more as he was dragged into an impromptu game of football in the yard, where he and Xiao Xingchen were on opposite teams.
They played around half-heartedly until a Xiao Xingchen who was grace incarnate except apparently on a football pitch, stuck his foot out and took Xue Yang’s feet from under him and he tumbled. The fall itself wasn’t bad but he was a little grazed as they played on the yard and not grass.
Xiao Xingchen was unusually all apologies and personally saw to tending the grazes Xue Yang’s tumble had caused, despite his assurances he was absolutely fine. The touch of the other still made his pulse flutter in some odd emotion and the way Xiao Xingchen kept glancing up at him, like he’d discovered a rare and new species, was disconcerting. And pissed him off, because he could guess what it was about.
“Just don’t” he said through his teeth so no one around them could hear.
“Don’t what? Congratulate you on what you’ve built here? On what you’re doing for these kids?”
“Yes, don’t. I don’t want to hear it” he sucked a breath in at the sting of the antiseptic where Xiao Xingchen applied it to his grazes.
“Alright, whatever you want” Xiao Xingchen let it drop but he still looked at Xue Yang with something approaching admiration in his eyes.
And it was addictive, to have someone look at him like that, and not like he was trash. But then it had never bothered him before. Was it purely because it was Xiao Xingchen and he wanted to be more than trash in that man’s eyes?
“I guess you read too many gossip rags” Xue Yang sniped, “I’m not on drugs, in any weird cults, or a complete slut either”
Instead of bullshitting him and denying he’d thought anything of the kind Xiao Xingchen agreed instead, “I’m beginning to see that. Of course that doesn’t mean you don’t have a vile temper, that you don’t ever learn your lessons, or that you don’t sulk like a baby when I tell you no”
He was about to make one of his usual responses when the game of football moved closer and he clamped his lips closed on the curse.
There was a knowing, teasing look in the other’s eyes and as Xue Yang looked down into that finely-boned face he realised why the other’s good opinion had meant so much to him; why he was on tenterhooks whenever Xiao Xingchen was near, which was all the time at the moment, and why his pulse fluttered like his veins were full of butterflies whenever the other touched him. He was in love with Xiao Xingchen.
Well fuck.
***
Xue Yang paced around his hotel bedroom, feeling like a caged tiger. He wanted to destroy something. No, he really wanted a stiff drink.
Was he a masochist? What had made him fall in love with a man who knocked him around for fun? No of course that was unfair, Xiao Xingchen only ever restrained him and only when Xue Yang attacked first. Still, it must definitely be masochism.
Or Stockholm Syndrome; he had been at the mercy of the other, a virtual prisoner, for weeks now.
“I need a drink” he exclaimed aloud; and so he formulated a plan.
He took a quick shower and changed into something black and sexy and flashy, then he he called reception and asked for a taxi cab, and that they ring up to let him know when it had arrived.
He waited by his bedroom door, peeping through the tiniest opening for the phone to ring back; and as Xiao Xingchen got up from the couch to answer it he dashed out and past as silently as possible to give himself as much of a head-start as he could manage.
The doors of the elevator were closing just as he saw Xiao Xingchen enter the hallway and yell at him in rage.
He was in the taxi and away; his freedom all the sweeter for being carefully wrought.
***
Xue Yang was beginning to feel pleasantly buzzed and he was chatting quite happily with the guy who stood next to him at the bar of the VIP lounge. He’d been greeted by the usual crowd who hadn’t seen him around for the weeks he’d been kept prisoner, (OK maybe that was a little dramatic), but he’d never seen this guy before and new people were interesting.
Although he was beginning to get uncomfortable at how the other stared at him intently after he’d finished his drink.
He excused himself to “visit the bathroom” when life finally caught up with him. Life of course being Xiao Xingchen.
He pushed Xue Yang up against the wall of the corridor to the bathrooms, which was surprisingly currently empty.
“Hey” Xue Yang protested, although with alcohol relaxing his muscles it hadn’t really hurt as he hadn’t tensed for impact. Actually being pinned against the wall by the man you’d fallen in love with was quite nice. He had zero experience, bar some awkward kisses with a girl who’d known as little as him when he was younger, but apparently being manhandled was beginning to be something he enjoyed. Maybe because it was Xiao Xingchen though.
“I’d advise you to keep really quiet, I’m this close to spanking the living hell out of you” and really he’d never seen Xiao Xingchen’s deceptively delicate face so twisted in anger.
But of course alcohol impaired one’s judgement; to dangerous levels sometimes.
“Is that what you like?” he asked.
“What?” Xiao Xingchen was confused, his hand tightened on Xue Yang’s collar as if he suspected the other was planning something.
“Spanking, do you get off on it?”
“You really have no fucking self-preservation instincts do you?” Xiao Xingchen demanded and if Xue Yang hadn’t been so muddled due to the reaction of his body to the other, and the alcohol humming through his bloodstream he might have realised how much trouble he was in; he had never heard the other curse before in all their weeks together.
Instead he gave in to the urge pounding at the base of his brain, unable to control it anymore. He threw his arms around Xiao Xingchen’s neck and kissed him.
Well, it was clumsy and unskilled, but it probably still counted as a kiss.
He was pushed back against the wall unceremoniously, “What do you think you’re doing? You are my client. You are drunk. You are so out of line right now”
Of course he hadn’t really expected a different response. He somehow managed to pull himself free and stumbled back out into the VIP lounge.
Actually he seemed to be more drunk than he’d realised. He was suddenly barely able to control his body and he felt like his head was full of cotton wool. A hand touched his back, “Oh, you look terrible. Do you need to lie down? Should we get you out of here?” he was vaguely aware the voice wasn’t Xiao Xingchen’s, it belonged to the guy he’d been talking to at the bar, as he was guided towards the door but he really did need to lie down right now. He was about to nod his agreement when the supporting hand was violently removed.
“What the fuck did you give him?” that was Xiao Xingchen, although he couldn’t work out what the question meant. He felt the iron-grip of his security’s hand and he was pulled close to the other; he recognised the familiar scent of his aftershave and it set his mind at rest.
***
It had been days since the nightclub incident; and he’d managed to act completely clueless about the entire evening. In honesty there were huge swathes of Xue Yang’s memory that were completely blank, but he was cursed with vague recollection of him kissing Xiao Xingchen.
He wanted to die from embarrassment. He wanted to mope around at the rejection. He had to pretend like he was completely clueless about everything that happened though and let the other just write it off as a side effect of the Flunitrazepam the random guy at the nightclub had put in his drink.
He had been in touch with Jin Guangyao and begged the other to find him new security. He couldn’t carry on being around Xiao Xingchen all the time, feeling like he did, and scared to death he’d do something stupid to reveal his feelings in a way that couldn’t be pretended away like that stupid kiss.
He had faithfully promised he’d keep up the good behaviour Xiao Xingchen had bullied into him so long as Jin Guangyao replaced him with someone who wouldn’t cause Xue Yang such pain to have close.
His manager had promised to at least look into it.
Xue Yang didn’t realise he’d been wool-gathering in his head and managed to separate slightly from Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing until he saw a face in the crowd that made him uncomfortable.
He didn’t recognise the man but the fear that skittered down his spine was very real; he turned to try and get closer to Xiao Xingchen who called his name and dashed over; the flash he caught from the corner of his eye had him raising his arm in self-protection. He was dragged out of the way and thrown to the floor, catching nothing but a glancing blow as Xiao Xingchen took out the threat.
It was all very chaotic after that as the crowd helped keep the attacker captive until the police could arrive, and ambulance was also called as both he and Xiao Xingchen had taken knife wounds.
His was a cut to the arm that didn’t particularly bother him, it was the wound on Xiao Xingchen’s side that scared the life out of him. He used his folded jacket to keep pressure on the injury.
A-Qing fluttered around trying to get him to let someone else take over so they could do the same for his arm but he just waved her off; it was nothing.
“You really have no fucking self-preservation instincts” Xiao Xingchen told him in annoyance; luckily he seemed fully conscious at the moment.
“I know. I‘m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on” he felt close to tears but fought them back brutally.
Xiao Xingchen nodded at what he said and looked into his eyes, “At least you’ll get your new bodyguard now, silver linings right?” he reached out with his left hand to thumb away one of the tears that Xue Yang hadn’t realised had escaped.
Fucking Jin Guangyao and his stupid big mouth.
“It’s for the best, xiao-Xue, in light of everything”
Which meant Xiao Xingchen was aware of his feelings and agreed the best way to deal with it was to move on. Well there went his dignity.
“You’re too precious for this cruel world in the limelight, anyway” Xue Yang tried to mock, his voice a little strangled.
“Which of us do you mean?” Xiao Xingchen asked and it was both an arrow to his heart and salve to his ego to hear such an opinion from the other.
He was glad when the paramedics had arrived and he was shuffled away to have his own wound dealt with so he could save some face. If the paramedic thought the tears were a reaction to the pain or shock of being attacked then good.
They were taken to a nearby hospital to be treated. Xue Yang’s cut needed a few stitches so he was ready to be sent away reasonably quickly, but he stayed in the waiting room until A-Qing came back to report Xiao Xingchen was fine, he’d be kept in for a few days as his would was deeper and nastier but he was stable and in no danger.
“Aren’t you going to visit before we go?” she asked, but he shook his head. And honestly she was smart enough that she probably knew what was going on and why he didn’t want to impose on the other. “Alright, lets get you back to the hotel. I think Jin Guangyao will be waiting, unfortunately, I can’t do anything to put him off this time”
Xue Yang sighed and accepted his fate.
One Month Later
The stage lights faded for the last time and he was finally able to slip offstage. He was lathered with sweat and completely exhausted. Xue Yang’s knife wound hadn’t been particularly deep or damaging but it was surprising how much it had knocked him down. He still tired out so much more easily than he was used to, but he hadn’t wanted to put this concert off, preferring to get it out of the way so he could take a holiday for a couple of weeks and use it to think about the next steps in his career, and indeed life, with nothing hanging over his head.
The man who had attacked them had been the same who had drugged his drink in the nightclub, although due to the effects Xue Yang couldn’t identify him; it had been lucky his subconscious had reacted to the man though, or it could have been so much worse.
He accepted the towel A-Qing held out for him as he met his entourage in the back stage passages and dried off, pulling on the coat she had also brought him.
There was an oddly smug look on her face and he questioned her.
“Nothing, just something funny is all” she refused to be drawn on what caused her to smile so.
They made it back to the dressing rooms and he was bundled inside.
He wondered, uncharitably, if she was on drugs.
“No rush, your car won’t be here for quite some time yet” A-Qing told him as she shut the door behind him and he turned to find his street clothes. Except he wasn’t alone.
Oh.
Suddenly he daren’t move from the doorway, not sure whether to tear it open and flee or move into the room and act like he wasn’t bothered in the slightest.
In the end he compromised, did nothing and stayed exactly where he was.
“Why are you here?” he tried to keep his voice steady, and luckily it didn’t shake too much.
“Why do you think?” Xiao Xingchen asked him.
30 notes · View notes
katedrakeohd · 4 years
Text
#Wacky Drabbles No. 11
Happy Birthday Drake
Prompt: " Did you have fun? "
Rated: (M 18+)
Pairing: Damien Nazario × Drake Walker
Tagging wacky drabblers:
@emceesynonymroll @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @speedyoperarascalparty @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @brightpinkpeppercorn @mfackenthal @qween-corgis @gardeningourmet @pedudley
Word count: no idea, cuz I wrote it here.
____________
Drake woke up tangled in hotel sheets. Stretching out his limbs lazily with a sigh, the throbbing in his head reminded him of last night's drinking binge.
Rolling over toward his bed partner, he hugs the pillow against his stubbled cheek and gazes into a face with a pair of chocolatey brown eyes and a sleepy smile.
"Good morning Mr. Nazario." He drawls with a smirk.
Damien leans over placing his warm hand on Drake's rough cheek, bringing him in for a soft kiss. "Good morning to you too hot stuff."
Drake kicks off what's left of the sheet, sliding his foot over to nudge against Damien's shin. "Hot stuff huh?"
Tilting his head back to take in Drake's naked profile in the morning light, Damien swallows as his breath catches in his throat. Memories of the drunken night before come back to him in hot passionate flashes of skin on skin.
----
It had been Drake's Birthday, and they'd been at a bar. They were just two anonymous guys at first, nursing tumblers of whiskey and watching the room as they sat on barstools. As the evening wore on and sweaty drunken people wandered over from the dance floor to order mixed drinks full of more ice than alcohol, he and Drake had outlasted them all.
Drake was on his third double whiskey and feeling fairly buzzed and relaxed when he noticed the man at the other end of the bar watching him. Lifting his glass in greeting, he's met with a slight nod and a grin from the other guy.
Damien had been casually watching the tall handsome devil all evening. He'd seen busty drunk girls sidle up to him and flirt but get brushed off with a shake of his head or a sullen frown. He had found it odd that someone so desirable could be so unwilling to accept a date. When the younger man had finally lifted his glass and made eye contact, he'd felt a sizzle of attraction and couldn't help but smile back. It had been a while since Damien had shared the company of a man so attractive, and he decided to take the leap and introduce himself. After downing the rest of his whiskey he fished a handful of bills out of his wallet and placed them on the bar and set his glass on top.
Walking around the corner of the bar, he notices the other guy glance at him and then look away. When he nervously rubs the back of his neck and then shifts his gaze down to the floor, it makes Damien smile. He knows I'm coming over for him.
Damien stops a few feet away, putting a barstool between them and then catches the attention of the bartender. "Excuse me barkeep, what kind of payment does the pool table over there take?"
"It takes coins," Drake interrupts, tossing back the last of his whiskey.
"Wanna play?" Damien asks, with a grin.
Drake gives the man with the dark hair and soulful eyes a quick sweep with his gaze, trying to gauge if he was flirting or just bored. With the amount of alcohol thrumming through his veins at this point his inhibitions were pretty low and he didn't care either way.
"Okay, sure. It's my lucky day and I'm feeling generous so I'll buy the first game."
Damien nods, slapping down a few bills on the bar. "Ok, if you buy the game I'll buy the beers."
Pushing away from the bar, Drake smiles. "Works for me. I'm Drake by the way."
Damien picks up the bottles of beer and then jerks his head in the direction of the table. "Damien. Lead the way."
Taking a sip from the bottle, Damien followed Drake across the room, appreciating the way his straight leg jeans hugged his ass and thighs. That sizzle of attraction buzzed through his veins again, and he took another sip of beer to cool the heat crawling through his belly. Setting the bottles on a side table, Damien peels off his leather jacket and then unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves. He felt very warm and wished he'd opted to wear a tshirt like Drake had. Taking another swallow of beer, he opens the top button on his dress shirt.
Drake shoves his hand in the front pocket of his jeans searching for coins to pay for their game. Damien's eyes are drawn down to his groin and the way he adjusts himself slightly as he digs for coins. Sweet Jesus, the way he fills out his jeans. Or maybe it's just the layers of denim and zipper giving an illusion of more? Fuck, it's indecent the shape of what he's packing.
Drake catches him looking and clears his throat, sending Damien's gaze back up to focus on his face. "So I come to this place often but haven't seen you here before."
Damien leans against the table, crossing his arms across his chest. He hesitates a moment, wondering what to tell Drake about himself. "I'm not from here, just passing through between jobs."
Drake takes in the worn quality of Damien's clothing, the scuff on his boots, trying to decipher what he did for a living. There was a slight wrinkle to his cotton shirt as if it hadn't been folded up or seen a hanger for a while. Damien's style wasn't that much different than his own. Wash and wear, throw on the floor, then wear again.
Damien startles Drake out of his idle thoughts, the whiskey was evidently starting to make his mind fuzzy around the edges.
"So you said it was your lucky day. What's so special about today?"
Drake smiles as he puts coins in the pay slot of the pool table and releases the balls for play. "Oh yeah, I said that didn't I? It's my Birthday today."
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After Drake straightens back up, Damien claps him hard on the shoulder, and smiles, "Really? Hey that's great man, Happy Birthday."
Drake nods, his shoulder tingling from the slap. He'd only been touched that way by his friends. And for some reason he felt excited about how Damien's slap made his skin tingle. Sucking in a deep breath, he grabs the ball frame and arranges the pool balls on the table for play. "Uh, Okay..Damien. Go grab a couple of cues and let's play."
What was it about this guy that made me want to do things I've never done before? Maybe it's the way he keeps looking at me like I'm a snack. He's so smooth and charming, and commanding but not in a rude or condescending sort of way like I'm used to hearing from the nobility. I kind of like it.
An hour, and three beers each later, Drake was up two games to one. Was Damien really that bad a player or was he just sloppy from the alcohol?
They'd joked about random stuff, talked about women and argued about whose favorite teams were better, ranging from football, baseball to basketball and beyond.
They hadn't realized how late it was until the bar was empty, and the lights went up. The bartender thumped his hand on the bar to get their attention, "Alright guys, it's closing time. You have a tab, now settle it. Call a taxi, stagger home, or whatever, I don't care. But you can't stay here."
Drake looked at Damien's grinning face, and the glassy luster of his eyes. He looked about as drunk as Drake felt. Shrugging into his leather jacket, Damien pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands it to Drake. "Here, pay the man I gotta go take a piss."
Drake's mouth drops open, as he watches Damien shuffle his way to bathroom at the back of the bar. Glancing over at the collection of empty beer bottles on the table, he reluctantly opens the wallet and tries not to look at anything personal. Damien has an impressive wad of cash. There was a mixture of Euros, American and Canadian. Who was this guy?
Drake grabs a bunch of Euros and hands them to the bartender, stealing a glance at his ID before closing the wallet. Damien Nazario, New York City.
There was some other sort of identification card that Drake didn't get a good look at in time before he saw Damien returning from the bathroom.
"All paid up?" Damien asks as Drake nods and hands him back his wallet.
The bartender folds his arms across his chest, giving his head a jerk in the direction of the door. Time to get the fuck out.
Drake and Damien both wave goodbye to the bartender and follow eachother out into the cool evening air. Drake gasps involuntarily, the cool air sobering him up somewhat because he hadn't worn a jacket.
Damien glances up and down the deserted street, not seeing a taxi stand or bus stop in sight. Drake's shoulders are hunched and he has his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looked cold. Damien bites his lip, considering their options. He didn't feel like going back to his hotel alone, and he didn't want to see Drake wander off cold and alone on his Birthday either.
Pulling off his jacket he offers it to Drake. "Here you can borrow this. I dunno if we're the same size, but at least you won't be so cold."
Drake looks at Damien, feeling unsure. Offering a jacket to your companion is usually a date night sort of thing. Was Damien suddenly his date? They had just spent the evening drinking and playing pool together, but just by chance. It wasn't a date.
Damien raises his eyebrows in question, "Well? You want it or not? You can walk me back to my hotel and then hand it back."
Drake shrugs, "Yeah, what the Hell. We're just two guys walking up the street together. Nothing unusual about that right?"
"Right."
Drake slides his arms into Damien's leather jacket. It smelled of his cologne, sweat and coffee. Things that were uniquely Damien. Drake liked how it smelled. It was a little tight in the shoulders so Drake didn't zip it up. He appreciated the kind gesture, and it was full of Damien's body heat, which was oddly exciting.
"Thanks." He says, falling into step next to Damien as they head up the sidewalk.
As they walk, Damien did up the buttons of his shirt and unrolled his sleeves to keep himself from getting cold. Although they had spent the past hour together, Damien was only now realizing how much taller Drake was than him. A couple of inches for sure. And in his jacket he came off as broader and bigger as well. This only made Damien want him more. If only for one night, to make Drake's Birthday one to remember.
They don't talk as they walk together. Both entertaining their own thoughts over where this night may be heading. As they approach the front doors of the Hotel, Damien stops walking and grabs Drake by the forearm and pulls him into the dark alley. Drake is off balance as Damien pulls him close and whispers in his ear. "Happy Birthday Drake, did you have fun tonight?"
Struck speechless by the heat of his breath in his ear, all Drake can do is nod.
Damien's voice is a low rumble as he says, "The fun doesn't have to stop yet."
continued...here
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jpat82 · 5 years
Text
Letters To You
Bucky x Reader
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Dearest Grandma,
I hope this card finds its way to you, I'm sorry I won't be able to come home this holiday, work has been keeping me busy. I did take the time to buy a tree like you insisted upon, even though I'll barely be home to see it. The city looks amazing, it's all decorated, I know you would love it.
This year is going to be the hardest I know, I miss you like crazy. Maybe that's why I keep myself busy so I can forget. I promise this spring I'll come out and see you, I love you and I always will.
Your little bird.
It was Dec 1st and the the third card Bucky had received and it was the first one he had opened. The address was his and he had moved in just shy of two months ago. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to open the red envelope this time. He usually sent them back with return to sender scrawled across the top but the woman sent them still to his address.
With heavy sigh he sat down at his desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper.
Dear... to whom it may...
I just wanted to let you know that the person you keep mailing letters to no longer lives at this address. I've sent the others back and maybe they haven't reached you, maybe they got lost on their way. I wish you well.
James.
He sealed the letter in the envelope and sent it off in the mail and thought nothing of it. He went about his day, Steve had been trying to get him out and enjoy the winter season.
He couldn't, the cold brought back memories of Siberia and everything that went with it. The holidays reminded him that his family wasn't alive in this era, and even though he had friends he couldn't just shake his past like Steve could. Sam has attempted to reach out to him, trying to get him to join the va group but he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to go. Days went by and as they did his mood continued to become dampened, he started to spend more time inside. He kept himself busy, cleaning weapons or working out, reading history books, anything to keep his mind busy.
That was till two days later he got an envelope that was baby blue in color. This time his name written with his address and from the same address as the red envelope. He tossed it to the side and went about the rest of the day, it wasn't till late that night as he was laying on the couch did he remember the letter.
Dear James,
I'm sorry to have bothered you, no I never got the returned letters. To be honest I was wondering when they would start to return. The house you are living was occupied by my grandmother, she passed this fall and I didn't know what else to do to keep her alive with me. So I continued to write with intent on stopping when with letters came back, then I would know that the house had been sold.
This is the first year of me being by myself, and a part of me hoped that the house wouldn't sell till after the holidays so I could at least pretend that she was still here with me. I don't know why I'm dumping all of this on you, and I'm sorry for that. I wish you a good holiday and a bright new year, I wish you enough.
Y/n
Bucky reread the letter three times, his heart breaking for the stranger who took the time to write it. He reached over and grabbed the notebook he had kept for years, ripping a blank page from it before grabbing a pen from the coffee table. He paused for a moment, debating on whether he should respond or not. He took a deep breath and sat up a bit.
Y/n,
I'm sorry to hear of your grandmas passing, it's hard to loose family and the holiday time is the hardest... I know, I'm right there with you. Wish I could say it gets easier but you'll miss them every time. If you wish to continue to write to her through the season go ahead, I promise not to pry.
I hope you find peace, and have a good holiday season as well.
James
The next morning he sent the letter off and went for a run with Sam, who had been bugging him for the last couple of days. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding people, even if it was only for a couple a weeks.
And just like the last one it took only two days for her to respond. This time a green card came in addressed to the former occupant and a silver one addressed to him. Bucky found a small smile spreading across his face as he walked over and sat down on the couch, tossing the green one on the coffee table before opening the silver envelope.
James,
Thank you! You have no idea how much it means it me. I know that next year I will miss her just as much but this year is particularly hard. My grandma was everything to me, she was my mom, my best friend, someone I could always count on. She came down ill shortly after I moved, and then work started to load down on me and I kept putting off to go see her.
I wasn't there when she passed, nor was I there for her burial. A stranger went through her house and arranged the estate sale and the sale of my childhood home. I wish I could take it all back, even if for only a day. I hope that she doesn't hate me, I didn't want to put my job before her, but... it doesn't matter. I can't believe I'm writing all of this to you, a perfect stranger. Again I'm sorry for unloading on you.
Y/n
Bucky sighed heavily, seems she was just as lost and alone as he was. A stranger who just desperately needed someone there that she would continue to write her dead grandmother just to pretend to have someone. The guilt in the way she wrote, he could see that she had been crying when she wrote it, some of the letters smudged as the tears collided with the wet ink.
He grabbed his note book and ripped out another page.
Y/n,
Don't feel guilty, I'm sure she was proud of you. In fact I know she was, you are out there living your life. You are making it on your own and if there is something I know about parents is that is all they want.
Never feel bad for unloading me, I know what it feels like not to have someone that you are comfortable enough with to open up to. And you aren't the only one struggling this year. My family passed away along time ago and this time of year is always the hardest. It's been decades since I have seen them and it still hurts. What I would to just see my sister or hear my ma sing carols, if only for an hour. I was held captive, a POW, and I never got to be there for their lives or their passing.
To be honest, so far this holiday hasn't been easy for me either. I've all but holed myself up in this house since before thanksgiving. Sam keeps trying to get me to join the va group but.. I just can't. I don't think even they would understand.
Hope to hear from you soon.
James
He rushed to get it out the next morning, Bucky wasn't even sure why he felt the need to mail her again but he did. He went about the next two days, checking the mail with a little more enthusiasm then he did before. He knew it was foolish but still he hoped she would mail him again.
On the third day he received two envelopes one gold and one green. One addressed to her grandma and the other to him.
Bucky,
I don't know what it must of been like for you, and I'm not even going to pretend to. And even if they (the va group) don't understand what you went through, it might help to just get it off your chest. Just my opinion and I won't press you on it.
As for me, my company is having a "holiday" party and I'm trying to find excuses not to go. They all know I live alone and that I don't have have any friends out here so I can't use any of the usual excuses. Something about being a round a bunch of people that I really don't want to spend more time then I have to, in a setting filled with drinks and fake holiday decor just puts me ill at ease.
Anyway, my grandma wasn't hip with the times, and I'm hoping you are. (Your email address).
Y/n
Bucky jumped from his spot and rushed over to the computer Tony had given him and fired it up. Excitement coursed through him as he logged onto the email address that Peter had helped him make.
He typed in her email address.
From oldmanbarnes:
Hey-
Y/n,
I may not be hip but I do know how to use a computer.
James
He hit send and then panicked, he forgot that Sam had a hand in the email address. And before he had a chance to respond to it his computer dinged with a reply.
From you:
Re:Hey
Old man Barnes?? Lol! Love the email address. This is kinda cool, hope your having a good day, I'm trying to figure out what I'm wearing to this holiday party.
From oldmanbarnes:
Re:re: hey
Haha yeah, a friend of mine picked it out, he thinks he's funny. And if you don't want to go don't. You could always stay home and a watch a movie, this may sound awkward but we could watch the same movie and then you can tell them you are seeing a movie with a friend.
From you:
Re:re:re: hey
Sounds like a date! Can I wear my pjs? And we have to make hot cocoa!
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