#not to mention the loading screens. why’s it take ten years just to hear four lines of dialogue from an npc

[skyeet-the-writer]

The Love Among Us

Chapter 1-- I’d Never Snitch On Daddy

so i haven’t seen many corpse husband x reader stories on here, so i decided to upload one myself. i’ve been watching jacksepticeye’s among us videos and when i heard corpse talk for the first time, i was like, “hol up” and now i’ve been obsessed with him. also, go stream his music on spotify, it’s amazing. enjoy! x. 

 corpse husband x female!reader

summary: while playing among us, y/n watches corpse kill felix in o2. when his body is reported, however, she doesn’t tell who killed him. 

 word count: ~3.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of death (not real death), mentions of murder (not real murder)

EDIT: before i wrote this and after i published it, i did not know that corpse did not like to be referred to as “daddy”. had i known this, i would have not even thought of posting this. and since i know now, i won’t refer to him as such in the future. thank you. (10/19/2020)

EDIT 2: this is the first part to my corpse x reader series. i will be adding chapters as we go!

next>

4 rounds before the incident

“I was in coms with PJ!” Sean exclaims. 

“He is doing the liar voice!” Felix shouts with a laugh. 

“I’m not,” Sean tries to say, but everyone talks over him and the voting time ends. Everyone left alive, though it was only four people, had all voted for him and he yells at them as he gets ejected. 

stinky was not the imposter

2 imposters remain

The round ends and everyone unmutes themselves. 

“Lizzie, you saw Felix kill me and you did nothing!” Roomie yells as soon as the round ends and the imposters are revealed. 

“Yeah, because I was the other imposter.”

“Oh. Okay, well that makes sense.”

Everyone laughs and Ken starts the round again. 

“Wait, can I invite y/n to play? She’s doing her twenty-four-hour stream and she just finished playing Monopoly with Mark, Bob, and Wade,” says Lizzie, looking down at her phone as they all appear back in the waiting room. 

“Yes,” Corpse blurts out and there are a few laughs and chuckles. 

“You were quick to answer, Corpse,” Sean teases. 

“Shut up,” Corpse mumbles and there are even more laughs. 

Lizzie smiles and taps into her phone. “I’m gonna invite her.”

~

“I can’t believe that you actually made that deal, y/n,” Wade is telling you after ending the second round of Monopoly that you’ve played with them. 

You smile and cross your legs on your chair. “Look, I was going bankrupt and it seemed good at the time. Besides, Mark was going to win anyway, he owned half of the board.” Your phone buzzes beside you on your desk and you pick it up. “Lizzie texted me.” There’s a sound effect that plays in your headset and you look up at your screen and smile. “Thanks to _lorieplays _for donating a hundred dollars, that means a lot. Thank you so much.”

“Do you want to play another round?” Marks asks. 

You shake your head, reading the text from your friend in England. “No, I don’t want to lose to you again.” You laugh. “Nah, Lizzie wants me to play Among Us with her and a few others. It was fun playing with you guys.”

“It was even though you took all of my money,” Bob snaps. 

You laugh. “Yeah, yeah. See you guys later.”

“Bye,” says Mark.

“See y--” Wade begins but you cut him off when you disconnect from the call. 

“Oops.” You put a hand over your mouth and laugh. “Sorry, Wade. Okay.” You straighten up and glance over everything, making sure it’s all working properly. “I have to pee and I think my roommate ordered pizza, so we’ll be back after this short break. Enjoy this live feed of my pet rats.” You giggle and switch the stream over to a view of your two rats in their cage where you have a camera set up. You take your headset off and head out of your recording room. 

Every two months, you have a twenty-four-hour livestream where you play games with your friends from all around the world. Despite being only twenty-five, your Youtube channel had grown exponentially in the past three years and you’ve had the chance to meet lots of other Youtubers like Markiplier, PewDiePie, and your close friend, LDShadowLady. 

Currently, you’re on hour twenty of twenty-four and you’re beginning to feel the effects of not sleeping for a whole day. You had been drinking coffee and energy drinks for the past four hours and that seemed to perk you up for two hours max. But your roommate had ordered pizza and that would hopefully wake you up. 

After going to the bathroom and grabbing an entire box of pizza, you return to your recording room and sit down. You put your headset back on and eat a slice of pizza before switching the views back to you. “And we’re back. I hope you guys enjoyed my rats because I don’t. They keep me up at night.”

You read a comment while loading up Among Us and laugh. “No, they’re not dead. They’re sleeping. They do that a lot when they’re not fighting.” 

When you finally get into the game and entire the code, you spawn in. You also quickly join the Discord chat and wince when nearly ten voices hit you at once. 

“y/n!” exclaims Lizzie and the other voices die down for a moment before rising to greet you. 

You wince again but laugh. “Jesus, you guys are loud. Hey, Lizzie.” You move your character to the customize tab and go to try and switch your color. But then you frown and realize that you’re stuck with being dark blue. “Damn, I wanted to be white.”

“Do you want to switch?” Corpse asks. 

Your eyes widen you your stomach flips. You hadn’t noticed Corpse was in this game. Immediately, your chat became flooded with keyboard smashing and lots of “omg my shipp” and “y/n rlly said ‘anna oop-’” 

“Uh, yeah, if you don’t mind,” you manage to stutter out and take a bite of pizza as Corpse’s player comes over and the white option becomes available. You select it and also select the goggles in the hats menu. 

“How’s your stream going?” asks Sean. 

You shrug. “Pretty good. I’m super tired, though. I literally almost fell asleep while playing Monopoly with Mark, Wade, and Bob.”

“You went to college, right?” You’re pretty sure that’s Roomie. 

“Yep,” you affirm with a nod even though they can’t see you. “You’d think that those all-nighters writing papers and studying for finals would make me able to do this.”

There’s a laugh in the group and the round starts.

3 rounds before the incident

You scratch your eyebrow and sigh in relief when you’re the crewmate. You mute yourself and slide up in your chair. 

“I like being the crewmate,” you say, heading towards admin as a habit. “It’s a lot less stressful than being imposter.”

After doing your tasks in admin and fueling the engines, you stumble across a dead body in the lower engine and a vent closing. 

“Oh,” you say, and press the report button. You unmute yourself and begin with, “So I saw a vent close but I didn’t see who went in.”

“Who died?” asks Lizzie. 

“Felix,” says Sean. 

You smirk. “It’s always yellow that dies first.”

“Where was the body?” Ken asks. 

“Lower engine,” you reply. 

“I was in medbay with Corpse doing the scan so it wasn’t him,” PJ says and Corpse makes a noise of confirmation. 

This makes your cheeks heat up and you smack a hand over your mouth. Your chat explodes again but you decide to ignore it. 

“And I was doing wires in cafeteria,” Lizzie says. 

“Sean, where were you?” 

“I was in reactor doing the simon says thing,” he answers. 

You sigh. “I hate that one. What about you, Ken?”

“I was with Roomie in electrical doing the power thing. You know, the one where you have to divert it somewhere else.”

“So do we skip then?” asks Lizzie. 

“No one is super sus, so I’m going to skip,” you answer. 

When no one is ejected, you mute yourself again. “I dunno why, but Sean seems pretty sus. Because I didn’t see him on the way down from upper engine. But I guess he could have gotten there in time.” You shrug and run over to the trash chute in the cafeteria. “RIP to Felix, though.”

After doing the trash there, you head down to storage, running into Corpse doing the wires in there. You wait there to clear him and once you do, you run a few circles around him to get his attention and he follows you over to the trash in storage and watches you do that. After that, the two of you head over to electric together and do wires there. 

Suddenly, there’s a body reported and you unmute yourself. 

“Sean just killed Lizzie in front of me!” exclaims PJ. 

“PJ killed Lizzie,” Sean retorts, flipping the blame. “I watched it, he didn’t realize I was there and murdered her.”

“I watched PJ do the scan in medbay, he’s cleared,” Corpse says and you find yourself smiling for no reason. “Sean, you killed Lizzie.”

“I knew he was sus,” you say, grabbing another piece of pizza. You look at the box and your eyes widen. Had you really already eaten half of it?

“Wait wait, how am I sus?” Sean asks. 

You take a moment to swallow. “Because when I was doing fuel earlier, I was running down from upper engine and didn’t see you in reactor. Sure, maybe you could have gotten there earlier, but it was super weird.” 

The discussion time ends and PJ immediately goes to vote for Sean as well as you, Corpse, and everyone else still alive. Sean ends up getting ejected. 

stinky was an imposter 

1 imposter remains

“You’re such a detective, y/n,” Sean says when he gets ejected. 

You laugh. “I just play this game too much.” You then mute yourself and smile. “I am a genius.” 

You end up finishing your tasks quickly after that and then stand in the cafeteria and eat another piece of pizza and read some of the chat. 

“’ What am I going to do after this?’ I don’t know. I might play some Minecraft. Should I have a poll on Twitter? I’m stuck between public Among Us games, Minecraft, and taking random quizzes on Buzzfeed.” You smile and hear another sound effect and something pops up on the screen. “Thank you to coochie man for donating a hundred dollars, that means a lot.” You laugh at their name. “I love your name, by the way.” 

There’s some rattling in the cage behind you and you turn around to see one of your rats drinking water. You turn back to the chat and read another comment. “’ Do you have a crush on Corpse?’” You blush and smile, biting your lip. “I mean, his voice is hot. I’ve never met him since he lives in San Diego and I live in h/t, but yeah, I guess I do. I’ve been listening to his music for the past few days and it’s really good, you guys should go check it out.”

You look up and unmute yourself when a body is reported. “Who died?” you ask. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Are you already done with your tasks, y/n?” Corpse asks. 

God, even the way he says your name is making you blush. “Yeah, I get them done quick.”

“She does that,” says Lizzie, “She always gets her tasks done quick.”

“Ken is dead by the way,” says Roomie and your snort, smacking a hand over your mouth. “I found him in the hallway by navigation. Where was everyone else?”

“I was in cafeteria doing nothing,” you say, leaning back in your chair and spinning around just a little. “I think I saw PJ downloading while I was in there, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, I was downloading,” says Ken. 

After more discussion, Corpse points out that Jaiden had been following him and it looked like she had been faking tasks. 

“No I haven’t,” she says. 

“That sounds like something the imposter would say,” you hum with a smirk. “That’s pretty sus, Jaiden.”

Everyone else agrees and you all end up voting Jaiden out. 

jaiden was the imposter

0 imposters remain

You cheer as the round ends and a blue victory screen pops up for the crewmates. “Good game, guys,” you say and play again, waiting for the host. 

~

1 round before the incident 

“Oh my god, I’m imposter again?” you groan and sigh when you spawn back in. “I was just imposter, I don’t want to be it again. I’m so bad at it,”

After another short round of you and Felix losing to the crewmates, you all agreed to play two more rounds before Sean had to leave. So you move your character to admin where PJ is and fake the card swipe before moving over to the admin security thing where you could see who was around where. Luckily, no one appeared to be near admin, so you quickly kill PJ and escape through the vent and come out through medbay. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you whisper over and over, running down to storage. “That was clean.” You fake getting fuel and go back up to the upper engine. 

When PJ’s body is reported, you see that your fellow imposter, Sean, had reported it. You stay silent for most of the round and only say that you were in the fuel area when it was reported. 

“Yeah, I saw her run past electrical earlier,” Corpse says. You blush and glance at your exploding chat and shake your head. 

After everyone skips the round, you mute yourself once more and head towards navigation. “I hate this.” You drag the last syllable and watch Lizzie enter the room. You wait a moment before walking towards her and killing her, jumping into one of the vents. You let out a sigh and flex your fingers. “I’m so stressed.” You exit out of the vent into shields and your heart stops when you see someone else in there but you realize that it’s the other imposter, Sean, and you relax. 

You run past him and go to the trash compartments and pretend to unload those. And that’s how the rest of the round goes. You kill someone, someone reports it and you vote someone off. Eventually, you and Sean do a double kill and end up winning the round.

You unmute yourself. 

“Let’s go!” Sean exclaims and you smile. 

“I can’t believe you killed me, y/n!” shouts Lizzie. “I thought we were friends.”

You laugh. “There are no friends in this game. I’m not loyal to anyone in this game. You could be my best friend and I would fucking murder you.”

“That’s cold,” says Roomie as everyone else spawns back in. 

“Yeah,” you nod. 

“Wait, PJ disconnected,” says Sean, and you all end up waiting for him to rejoin. 

In that time, you look at your chat and say, “Hey, do you guys have any questions for who I’m playing with. I’m asking you, chat.”

“I swear if someone asks about my hands, I’m leaving,” Corpse says and everyone laughs. 

You laugh louder when you read a comment and read it aloud, “_Ironlady _says that you should be a hand model, Corpse.”

“Okay, I’m leaving,” you hear Corpse say over everyone laughing. 

“No, stay!” you exclaim, trying not to laugh. “C’mon, don’t leave.”

He sighs deeply and your brain goes fuzzy. “Fine. I’ll stay for you.”

You beam and your tummy turns. You ignore the whistles and remarks from everyone else and stand beside Corpse. You suddenly wish that the little bean characters could hold hands. 

When PJ joins the server again, Ken starts the round and you cross your fingers, hoping to get crewmate. 

0 rounds before the incident

You mute yourself and sigh when you’re a crewmate. “Thank god.” You let out a breath and go over to admin with everyone else. You swipe your card and go to the cafeteria to do some wires there. 

The game turns out to be rather uneventful. A few people die and two people are voted off before the game gets truly interesting. And that happens when you walk in on Corpse and Felix. 

“I’ve had this song stuck in my head for days,” you’re saying, walking from electrical over to O2. “And I can’t get it out of my head. Maybe singing it will help.” You hum the first part. “Don't go in there, you'll become one. Freaky creatures, monster party. Eyes of yellow, scales and feathers, tails in tethers. Turn the lights off. Bend the nightmare, you control it. Artful dodger, easy does it. Shut the closet, get under the covers. Snakes and lovers. Turn the lights off.” You do a little dance for a moment and continue hum the song, glancing at the chat as you go towards O2 after doing wires in storage. 

“Like, I know the song, it’s just been stuck in my head,” you explain. “And it kind of annoys me--”

But you stop as you enter O2 and watch Corpse murder Felix. Neither one of you move and you don’t know what to do. “Uhhh.” 

Then, without thinking, you turn straight around and make your way away from the scene of the murder. “I didn’t see anything!” you shout to no one. “I suddenly can’t see who murdered Felix.” You smack a hand over your mouth and stand in the middle of a hallway. “Oh my god, what do I do? I don’t want to snitch on Corpse, he’s hot.” You scratch the back of your neck and shrug, continuing on to reactor. “I didn’t see anything.”

You’re in the middle of doing the simon says in reactor when Felix’s body is reported. You unmute yourself and fidget with the sleeve of your hoodie. You know exactly who killed Felix. 

“--was in O2,” says Jaiden and you focus back into the conversation. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”

“I saw you heading that way, y/n, but I know it wasn’t you because I saw you do the trash in storage.”

You look at the screen when Sean talks to you and you chew your lip. “I know who killed Felix.”

“Who?” asks almost everyone at the same time. 

You close your eyes and swallow. It’s just a game, why are you taking this so seriously? Suddenly, a song lyric pops into your head and your stomach flips. You imagine yourself saying it and no one knows who you mean except for him. 

You open your eyes. “I’d never snitch on daddy.”

There’s a laugh in the chat and you blush fiercely, your livestream chat blowing up once again.

“I think we know who it is, then,” says Sean, laughing. 

“Yeah,” agrees Lizzie and your eyes widen. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, watching everyone vote almost as soon as the discussion time ends. “Wait, hang on, who--”

“We know who you’re talking about, y/n,” PJ tells you. 

You vote for yourself and your brain goes blank as you see that everyone voted for Corpse. He even voted for himself. They knew. They all _knew _about your feelings for Corpse. 

The round ends with Corpse being voted out and the crewmates win. There’s some talking, but you stay on the victory screen. You’re trying to decide if your mad or embarrassed or both. 

“I didn’t know you’d say that, y/n,” Corpse says, effectively breaking you out of your trance. “I thought you were gonna snitch on me.”

“You heard her,” teases Lizzie and you can tell she’s grinning. “She’d never snitch on you, Corpse.”

He laughs and you feel something in a certain place. “Oh my god, I’m gonna die of embarrassment.” You put your face in your hands, listening to your friends tease you in the chat. You suddenly want to jump out your window and run into traffic. 

“Don’t die,” comes Corpse’s voice through the onslaught of teasing. “I’ll be sad.”

“Fuck!” you shout and slam your hand on your desk, shaking your equipment and scaring your rats. “I’m so sorry, Corpse, that was really weird, I--”

“Stop.” He interrupts you and the chat goes silent and you look up at the screen even though you can’t see him. “It’s okay. It was funny.”

Your eyes widen and then narrow. Funny? He thought what you said was funny? How could he think it was funny?

But then he speaks again and he sounds oddly flustered. “Uh, I gotta go. Um, it was fun playing with you guys. Bye, y/n.”

“Bye Cor--” but then he disconnects and you’re left talking to no one. “--pse.”

There’s a long moment of silence until Felix breaks it. “I can’t believe you just watched me die and didn’t do anything about it.”

There are some laughs and you smile faintly, rejoining the game. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Are you okay, y/n?” asks Lizzie. 

You blush and swallow. “I don’t know. God, I’m so weird.” You run a hand through your hair and adjust your headphones

“No, you’re not,” Roomie assures you. “He has a crush on you, too.”

Your eyes widen and you scoot up in your chair. “He does?”

“I mean, he called you pretty once during a game and said that he watches your videos a lot, so maybe.”

You groan and sink in your chair. “I’m gonna go, I need to run into traffic now.”

A few people laugh or chuckle and Lizzie asks you if you’re actually going to leave. 

“Yeah,” you tell her. “But not to run into traffic. I’m going to go play Minecraft to soothe myself.”

“Aw.” You can practically hear her frown. “Okay. Bye, y/n.”

“Good luck with your stream,” Ken tells you. 

You grin. “Okay, thanks, bye.”

When you exit the game and leave the chat, you scream. You actually scream and it’s loud. Your roommate even knocks on your door, asking if you’re okay. 

You look at them and nod. “Yeah, totally fine. Probably about to have a mental breakdown, but I’m fine.”

“Okay,” they say and lean on the doorframe. “But I’m not cutting bangs for you again.”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, okay, fine.” They leave and you turn back to your stream, feeling like you’re about to cry. Corpse knows you have a crush on him. And it seems like he has one on you as well, but now you’re embarrassed because you called him ‘daddy’ on stream.

You rub your eyes. “Well, now I know what’ll be streaming on Twitter tonight,” you tell the chat. 

#corpse_husband #corpse husband #x reader #female reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse_husband x reader #jacksepticeye #among us #ldshadowlady #pewdiepie #fanfic

[julemmaes]

Pinky Promise - Chapter Four

A/N: I love them so much and if they don't kiss in the immediate future I'm gonna sue myself. This is some fluffy-whump shit I don’t even know, I tried to update earlier this time, I hope I didn’t fuck anything up and please please be nice if you don’t like the chapter cause today was hard - we found out my uncle is positive and my parents might be at risk (me as well) and it’s not good. Enjoy!:)

Fic masterlist

Word count: 4,779

Nesta sat on the armchair in Cassian's apartment and stared at the void, clutching her hands around her cup of tea.

She had been there for thirty minutes, joined by her boyfriend, and they had both said only a few words. She was terrified at the idea of having to force herself to listen to him and he, unaware of the battle that was raging inside her, seemed not to want to drop this crazy idea.

"I spoke with Feyre this morning," Nesta murmured. Cassian's head snapped up, a not too convinced smile flashed on his lips, inciting her to continue. "She told me I should listen to you."

The half smile turned into a proper one at her words, but he got serious when she gave him a dirty look, "Why?"

"She said that if you've gone so far as to call this insane mission of yours a dream, then it must be important." she held the cup even tighter between her fingers. Cassian followed the movement with his eyes, frowning. "She says I can't clip your wings. That it would do us more harm than the prospectus of you dying in combat, apparently." her sharp tone that of a woman who leaves no witnesses.

He stiffened in his seat, "Nes..."

"I'm not saying that she's right. I'm not going to give you my consent to do shit like that, not yet..." she pointed out, looking him straight in the eye, "But I want you to explain to me how it would work."

She saw the second hope ignited in his irises. The moment he knew that if he used the right words, if he pushed the right buttons, he would be able to make her give in. And Nesta wanted to shut herself down. She wanted to throw the cup against the wall and yell at him how stupid, stupid, stupid he had been to think such a thing.

She wanted to tear her hair out because the man in front of her was the only thing that hadn't brought her down in the last ten years and now he was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn't do anything to avoid it.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, pushing himself forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn't smiling openly, but she could see that the conversation was making him happy.

She licked her lips and saw him swallow.

They hadn't kissed in about four days and Nesta was counting the minutes since their mouths had touched before they started fighting, wondering if it would be the last one every second that passed.

"I want to know everything." she stammered, "What should you do now, right now, to prepare to join the army?"

He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up, "I'll have to take a medical examination, of course, and do a physical screening." He began, "This will be held in MEPS, which stands for Military Entrance Processing Station," Nesta had a feeling that she would remain silent for much of the explanation, without interfering. Not because she didn't want to, but because she could better absorb the information and all the acronyms he would spill on her.

As if she had been in class and they were explaining yet another protocol.

"I'll have to go there to process into the army." he looked her in the eye, "Basically, I'm gonna spend a night in an hotel, chosen by them. You can come visit me with the others, but you'll have to leave at ten and-" he stopped, arching his eyebrows, "Do you want the details of what I'm gonna do or?

She stopped him, "Please, tell me everything."

Something in her voice must have moved him, because he looked at her carefully before he resumed, "Alright, I'm gonna get a call at four in the morning, I'll get breakfast there at the hotel cause they do that for you," he said as if it were something to be applauded.

She snorted, "I think that's the least."

She wasn't ready to thank an organization that would surely destroy her family just because it would give her boyfriend a free breakfast.

Cassian glared, "And then we're all there at MEPS at five."

The fact that Cassian already saw a "we" in the army made her skin crawl.

"They'll assign me to a liason and that person is gonna explain what the day will entail and what we should expect."

He took a deep breath, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. He did that so often, "Then, there's the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, that I'm gonna call ASVAB from now on. It is a mock test used to screen applicants to ensure that they mesure up to the high standards that are required."

And here it was, his recruiter voice. Nesta didn't think he would mention other propaganda videos, like the night before, but it seemed exactly like he was doing that while saying, "The main reason this test exists is because for Prythian Armed Forces it's important that they employ people who show strong levels of enthusiasm and skill." he winked at her and Nesta had to make an effort not to throw the cup at him, "You know, in order to maintain a great level of service and professionalism."

He puffed his cheeks, with thoughtful expression, tapping a finger on his lips, "There are nine subtests to this thing." And then he started counting on his fingers, "There are General Science, Arithmetic Reasoning, World Knowledge, Paragraph Comprehension, Mathematics Knowledge, Electronics Information, Auto and Shop Information, Mechanical Comprehension and Assembling Objects."

He stood up, took the phone at the center of the coffee table and passed it to her. She hesitantly picked it up and saw only a picture of a book, "There are plenty of sites and a specific book with sample questions I'll need to try out." he pointed the phone into her hands, "Just like a normal exam, same exact stuff."

He joked that he would need her to study, but she didn't change her expression, putting the phone on the coffee table and taking a sip of her tea.

"I'm gonna get a medical briefing and after that I have to get an exam with some physicians," he continued, "Once I'll be done with medical part-"

She interrupted him again, having to stop that dump of information that was being tossed at her, "And at this point you're not enlisted yet, are you?"

Cassian's smile turned soft, "No, baby, this is the moment they see if I'm suitable."

She nodded, "Got it."

He gave her the thumbs up, "Resuming, once I'm done with medical, I'll meet up with a counselor and that's the part where I negotiate a job. We'll talk about this later." he cracked his fingers, sighing, "With that being done, I'll go to the processing section, they'll do what they have to and at this point, I'll take the Oath of Enlistment, where I'd like you to be there."

He looked hopefully at her and Nesta closed her eyes, breathing through her nose.

Cassian stood up, approaching her. When she felt his hand on her leg, Nesta opened her eyes and saw him kneeling in front of her, his eyes glowing as he stared up at her.

"And then I'm gonna come home. To you." he whispered, stroking her thigh with his thumb, "And the first part will be done."

She moved her leg, fleeing his touch. She missed him too much and that hand, whether it was a strategy to soften her up, to make her lower her guard or simply because he missed touching her too, was messing with her brain.

Cassian swallowed noisily, clenching his hand in a fist and bringing it to his side. He stood up and sat down on the sofa, as close as possible to her armchair, "I'll return to the MEPS a second time, to begin my path on the army. A second medical inspection, a second oath and final processing and then I'll leave for BMT, which is Basic Military Training," he concluded.

Nesta looked across the room, toward the kitchen, where they had argued heavily just a few hours earlier. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, suddenly feeling weak.

His words appeared behind her eyelids, as clear as the sun.

We can always have children and pursue the careers we want.

He had seemed so sure of what he was saying.

We don't have to choose.

"Sooner or later we will have to..." she whispered.

Cassian pushed himself towards her, "Sorry I didn't hear that."

Nesta passed her hand over her face, "No, nothing," she sighed, "I was just thinking out loud."

He nodded, biting his upper lip.

"Is that why you've been training so hard?" she asked, remembering only then how much more he had actually started working out in the last few weeks. In the last few months.

Cassian responded positively and they continued talking for hours.

Nesta asked question after question: what would happen now, what would change in the immediate future in their lives, when was he supposed to leave Velaris - when was he supposed to leave here.

He explained to her what they were going to do. He would sign the contract for enlistment in a delayed entry so that he could leave in more than six months. So that they could plan everything calmly without the fear that he might be called to start Basic.

The departure date would have been decided together before he left for MEPS. He would apply for a career in the Transportation, Distribution & Logistics field as a Cargo Specialist.

Cassian had opened a web page on his phone and had her read what a job in that field involved.

"Cargo specialists ensure service members all over the world receive needed supplies and are themselves transferred safely and efficiently to their destinations. They are responsible for transferring or supervising the transfer of cargo to and from air, land, and water transport by manual and mechanical methods. They also plan and organize loading schedules." she read aloud.

Exactly what Declan was doing at that moment, he explained.

Cassian remained silent for a few minutes, allowing her time to assimilate any information he had given her. There was still so much to discuss that Nesta's head was bursting at the thought.

Before she could say anything about the fact that they were done for today, the door of the house opened and Azriel entered, with two vases so big that they covered his face, followed by a smiling Elain.

Cassian puffed and looked at her, whispering so that the others would not hear him, "I can't wait to have our own house," Nesta felt her heart implode, "so no one would ever come into the middle of our arguments to interrupt." she knew that his was a poor attempt to make her laugh, but she had completely turned her brain off.

She was used to talking about these things with him. Her heart hadn't hurt at the idea of the two of them just living together. Her whole body had hurt at the idea that in that house, there would only be her. No one else.

Even if they spent the next six months looking for the perfect house and found it, she would be alone.

Because Cassian would be overseas.

She turned to him, really looking at him and concentrating on the long black eyelashes that were fluttering fast.

She caught her breath, rising abruptly and Elain realized at that moment that she and Azriel were not alone. Both of them seemed more than surprised to find her in their living room, but, exchanging a quick glance, they decided not to say anything about it.

Azriel put the large vases on the floor, taking the smaller ones she was carrying out of Elain's hand, "Hello," greeted both of them and Cassian stood up in turn, turning to the newcomers and giving them a tight smile, "have you read the messages?" Azriel asked, taking off his coat and scarf that Elain had knitted for him.

Nesta smiled slightly.

It was Cassian who shook his head.

"Mor said that Manon arrived early. There was a misunderstanding with the time zones and they got confused with the days, but she's here anyway." Elain sounded excited, "Dinner at hers tonight."

"Fuck." Nesta murmured, running a hand over her face. She grunted in pain thinking of the headache she would have the next morning when she was due back at work. The week she spent at home on vacation had certainly made it easier for her to lay in bed without having to spend hours in the bookshop.

Cassian turned to her, slightly worried, "We don't have to go if you don't want to".

We.

Azriel looked closely at them and when he crossed Nesta's gaze, he sighed.

"We-" she began, "We?" she asked sarcastically, laughing in his face.

She was getting angry and had to try to control all the emotions roaring inside her.

After all the things he had decided without her, there was still an us. Apparently.

Cassian seemed to be in trouble, "I'm sorry," he whispered, "You don't have to come if you don't feel well." he corrected himself, "I'm sure Mor can arrange a meeting with just the three of you."

Nesta looked him in the face, clenching her jaw, "I'm going."

Elain let go an excited scream and went up to her, "I'm glad you're coming too."

They exchanged a quick hug and the older one almost cried.

She didn't realize how much the lack of physical contact weighed on her. And how more than half of that contact came from Cassian.

***

"Hey girls, come on in!" Mor greeted Nesta and Feyre with a bright smile on her lips.

As soon as they entered the house, they smelled the smell of baked pasta and both their mouths watered.

"Amren and Varian are in the kitchen with Manon and Rhys is wandering around the house somewhere, so," she told them, informing them on who was already there. Then she took one look at Nesta, "You're sure you and Cassian can stay in the same room without jumping at each other's throats?"

Feyre giggled next to them, shutting up immediately when Nesta looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

She turned to Mor, "He promised me he wouldn't bring up the army topic tonight and I promised him I wouldn't get mad about anything he said, so there shouldn't be any problems."

The blonde didn't seem so convinced, but then someone called her from the kitchen and her face lit up. She grabbed them both by the hand and dragged them into the other room, where a tall girl, with almost blinding white hair, was standing with a pan in her hand. When she saw them, she opened her eyes wide and flashed them a smile.

Feyre raised her hand in greeting and Nesta smiled tightly.

"Oh! Yeah, sorry," Mor approached Manon, taking the food and placing it in the center of the table.

"Baby, these are two of the three sisters, Nesta," she said, pointing to the eldest, who reached out to Manon to shake her hand, "and Feyre, the youngest of our group."

"Pleased to meet you," murmured Feyre, blushing under the inquisitive gaze of Manon.

The girl smirked, "The pleasure is all mine." then she turned to Mor, "Our Morrigan told me that you were all very beautiful, but I didn't think I'd join a group of models."

Amren, who hadn't taken her eyes off Nesta until then, snickered, "And we're the modest ones, just wait until Rhys and Cass are in the same room and we'll have a hard time breathing from how much space their egos will take up."

Feyre laughed, "You say that as if Azriel didn't know he was the most charming one in the group," then turned to Varian, "Nothing personal," she joked, sitting between Amren and Mor. The boy shook his head smiling, always with his silent manner.

"At least dear Az remains humble and does not go around proclaiming himself Miss Velaris," said Mor.

"It happened only once and I was drunk off my ass."

Rhysand entered the kitchen with his usual grin on his face, sitting next to Nesta.

He greeted the sisters with a quick smile, and she saw Feyre smiling back as if they hadn't yelled at each other five nights earlier.

She looked around, trying to figure out if she had missed something in the last few days or if she was really the only one who just couldn't let things go.

It was true, she wasn't going to cause Mor any trouble that night and she certainly wasn't going to spoil everyone's dinner by arguing with Cassian, but she wasn't going to pretend it was all okay either. Looking at each person at that table, however, it seemed that the fight that everyone had heard had never happened.

They were talking about the university and the jobs they had and Manon seemed more than calm and comfortable in that group. Feyre, strangely enough, was the one who was the most involved in the conversation and Nesta realized with no small apprehension that it must have been because Tamlin didn't let her make new friends so often.

Manon was a flower that had just bloomed in the burnt lawn that was her sister's life.

When the other three arrived, Azriel had one arm around Elain's shoulders and Cassian, behind them, had shiny eyes. Nesta knew very well that he was not crying or drunk. That was the face Cassian had when he was exhausted and only two days of deep sleep could fix that.

Manon and Mor had got up to make introductions and Nesta had burst out laughing when the newcomer had extended her hand to Az and said, "You must be Lucien. You and Elain are a splendid couple."

Elain laughed and shrugged Azriel off, "Oh, no. He is Azriel. Lucien's not coming tonight."

Mor had cast a long look at her girlfriend and Manon had apologized, smirking, as if she had done it on purpose.

Nesta knew very well that the blonde in their group often talked about the relationships-non-relations within their circle, so Manon must have known that no one in that house really believed that Elain loved Lucien. At least, no one in that house believed that Lucien was the right person for Elain.

There was a time when Nesta was convinced that he was going to propose to her. That sweet little Ellie would finally leave the nest and build her family elsewhere, but whenever she was asked questions about their relationship, she seemed indifferent. She cared about Lucien, she did, and it was obvious.

But maybe that wasn't enough anymore.

Azriel had introduced himself for who he really was and then rushed to the table, sitting next to her, red from head to toe. Nesta bent over to him, making a joke about what had just happened, and then whispered, "Thank you." Azriel raised a confused eyebrow. "For sitting here," she pointed to the chair, "I didn't want to have to spend the whole evening next to him."

He smiled at her, clutching her knee under the table and reassuring her that it was not a problem.

When they all sat back down to eat, Manon was looking at her and smiling at her in a reassuring way. Whatever Mor had told her, the white-haired girl knew more about them all than she let on.

Cassian didn't speak to her the whole time, too lost to have a chat with Varian and she was grateful that both of them were sitting on the same side of the table, because she didn't risk crossing his gaze, not once.

Also because she was sure that if he looked at her even for a moment, he would notice that something was wrong and that Nesta was not feeling well.

When Mor put the wine on the table, half of them refused the alcohol, finding a plausible excuse that they would all have to work the next day, but Nesta knew every person at that table like the back of her hand and she knew that Feyre had refused because she would have argued with Tamlin if she drank without him being there. Elain would bring up things that weren't supposed to go out in such a context and she and Cassian would start fighting, driven by the liquid courage in their glasses.

Halfway through the meal, Nesta got up to go to the bathroom and as soon as she shut the door behind her, she sighed closing her eyes.

Cassian was right when he told her that she should not come. Her headache was getting worse and she couldn't concentrate on anything that was being said.

She sat on the closed toilet and put her hands to her face.

She felt her fingertips tingling and her stomach hurt so much that she would not be surprised if she vomited all over the table when she got back.

She had to go home and sleep and not think about anything.

She heard the others burst out laughing and suppressed a groan of pain when her ears started ringing.

She was dying, she could feel it.

She came out of the bathroom staggering, almost as if she were high on drugs.

Leaning on the wall for support she managed to return to the kitchen and covered her eyes with one hand, sheltering herself from the light. She coughed to call Mor's attention and they all turned towards her.

Nesta sighed for the umpteenth time, "I'm really sorry but I don't feel so good and I'd rather go home," she stepped to the table, approaching Manon and offering her a tired smile, "It was nice to meet you, I hope you can come back soon and visit us."

She had no idea what she was saying, the ringing in her ears became louder and louder.

Cassian stood up and everyone's attention shifted to him, "Do you want me to give you a ride?" he was already slipping out of his seat.

Nesta shook her head, grimacing, "No, there's no need-"

"You're sick, you shouldn't drive in these conditions," said Amren, looking at her severely.

Feyre came to her aid, "If you want I can take you. I can go out with them tomorrow," she said, pointing to her friend and her visiting girlfriend. Mor nodded, looking at her pale face and looking more concerned than necessary.

"Nesta," whispered Cassian, "please."

The fact that no one was making fun of him for literally begging her to drive her home made her realize that others had also sensed the emotion in his voice.

She looked him in the eye and nodded slightly with her head.

She saw Cassian sag with relief and then he was gone to the other room, fetching their stuff for her. She arranged with the sisters how they would return home and Azriel reassured her that one way or another they would safely go home. This made her slightly agitated as Azriel wore that stupid sneer he had every time he exaggerated with wine. Elain told her that she would be driving, since both Az and Rhys did not seem to be properly sober, and Nesta calmed down. She was about to thank Mor again when she felt the weight of the jacket on her shoulders.

She turned and smiled gently at Cassian, who had a tired and worried look on his face and shifted his gaze over her cheeks as if he could find the illness on her skin and remove it only by willpower.

He put his arm around her shoulders when she got dressed and said goodbye to everyone one last time, while Nesta, tired of being angry and on the verge of another hysterical crisis, snuggled up against him, letting herself be dragged out of the apartment and into the car.

As soon as she sat down, she leaned her head against the backrest and closed her eyes, yawning.

"Let me," Cassian murmured to her. He looked at her hopefully and it took her a few seconds to realize that he was asking her if he could fasten her seatbelt. She nodded almost imperceptibly, swallowing when he smiled at her and stretched over her to reach the other side of the seat.

She breathed the air deeply and had to close her eyes tightly when his scent ran over her and tears made their way under her eyelids.

She missed him so much.

Cassian closed her door carefully and then went around the car, settling down behind the wheel.

Like the last time they had been in the car together, he was not putting the keys in the patch and she was getting nervous.

She didn't have the strength to argue at that moment and if Cassian had offered to accompany her and she had accepted without too much fuss, it meant that her body knew it too.

"What is it?" he asked her finally, starting the car.

Nesta looked at him from the side, with a lost look, "Everything hurts, I think I might have a fever".

Throwing her a look full of worry, he said, "Why don't you close your eyes for a while? I'll wake you up when we get to your house."

She nodded and leaned her forehead against the cold window.

It wasn't long before she fell asleep, lulled by the gentle humming of Cassian and the rocking movement of the car.

When she woke up, she was no longer in the seat of her boyfriend's Jeep, but someone was carrying her and her head fell right and left as she was being bounced up the stairs. She tried to open her eyes and recognized the stairwell of her building.

She had her head resting on his chest, one arm around her back and one under her legs to support her.

"Sssh," he murmured into her hair, "we are almost there."

She grunted in pain, whimpering and almost crying when Cassian had to put her down to get the keys and open the front door. Her feet touched the ground and she leaned completely against him, gasping against his chest.

She didn't even have the strength to touch him and her arms were dangling along her sides. It was as if her legs had become jelly, she couldn't stand on her own.

"Sweetheart," he called her and she moaned, "I know, I'm sorry," he rubbed his hands on her back, stroking her gently, "but you have to give me a moment to open the door. So I can take you inside and you can sleep."

Nesta couldn't see anything and if she tried to keep her eyes open, everything would spin, but she still heard the hint of panic in his voice and could picture the worry painted on his face. Clenching her teeth she pulled herself away from Cassian and backed against the wall, "Hurry up," she said through her teeth.

The door was opened in a second and then Cassian picked her up without her even noticing. He took her directly to her room and as soon as she touched the bed, she sighed, pressing her face against the pillow.

Cassian took off her shoes and pants, helping her slip into her pajamas and covering her legs with the comforter. When he tried to pull her up to sit down, Nesta twisted, her head pounding.

"I know everything hurts, but if I let you sleep in your bra, tomorrow your ribs will hurt even more," he explained to her, sitting on the mattress, "Lean on me and I'll take care of it, Nes," she laid down, her head turned to the other side.

She heard him sigh and then Cassian's arms wrapped around her chest. She leaned completely against him with her eyes closed as she cried silently. The pain had reached overwhelming levels.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, she heard him murmuring when she sobbed.

Once he had removed her shirt and bra and put the top of her pajamas on, he laid her gently on the bed and put the comforter on her so that she was not exposed to the cold.

She felt Cassian's lips on her forehead a second before sleep took over.

“I promise we’ll get through this, too.”

acotar tag list (if you want to be removed or added just send an ask or dm me)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron 

#pinky promise #nessian #pinky promise chapter four #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #azriel #elain archeron #angst #fluff #fic #acotar fic #nessian fic #acosf #a court of silver flames

[sociopathlove]

When I was little I would sit and stare at the TV and hope something tragic would happen to me. I’d pray to God that maybe I’d be kidnapped and held for ransom. To be fair I didn’t know what rape and murder was so I thought all kidnaps were about ransom. Or maybe my parents would get back together because I had a secret twin.

Sometimes I’d sit outside in the grass with my best friends and make up lies trying to be interesting. I’d always been the weird kid. I was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder when I was four. And no not the cute “I want all my shoes in order and a clean room! I’m so cute.” That’s quirky TV obsessive compulsive disorder. I wish I was so lucky. Nope. While people were outside playing I was ripping my eyelashes out so my baby sister wouldn’t die. Fun fact. I didn’t have a baby sister at the time. But I’d convinced myself the unborn baby that didn’t exist yet would die if I ate anything orange.

Needless to say. I was fucking weird. Growing up in the south with mental illness.... Sorry for my frankness- Jesus FUCKING Christ. I might as well been a witch in the Salem witch trials. And then when I was around thirteen I came out. Well I didn’t come out, I was shoved out. If you’re straight and still reading I’ll explain what coming out means. And why the joke about me being shoved out is funny. I’m gay.

I’ve probably lost about 60% of the readers. I promise this book gets.... actually it gets worse so yeah. Anyway- back to the pushing out moment. Ya see the thing is, in the summer of 2007 something actually happened to me. My medication was straightened out, and I started acting kind of normal. Well normal for a set amount of hours. And the best thing ever.... I became beautiful. Suddenly people who use to think I was weird suddenly thought I was interesting.

I started acting out because I was finally cool. I smoked a little weed and did a bump of cocaine once or ten times. I tried out for cheerleading and became a queer leader. Yeah. I was that typical gay guy with six white girls as friends and yes all with a name that started with a K.

My parents could see I was spiraling. You’d think. Nope. They did not. My mother thought “finally he’s normal and fitting in.” And my father was always working so as long I was at the dinner table before sneaking out he didn’t care. I should mention my parents were divorced. My father had soul custody and I saw my mother on the weekends. Most of the time. She liked to drink so.... well I’m foreshadowing now.

So anyway- at the end of 8th grade year our school did this thing where we all went to the water park as a treat for going into high school. And I had been secretly texting this guy Chris. Like sexting and everything. The Razor had just come out and I had one... yes I know. I was hot shit. So the morning of the water park I went out to our laundry room to grab my baiting suit and our nanny had locked the door behind me. Probably not on purpose but... who knows? I knocked and knocked but she was busy. So I just shimmied up the landing and in through my window. I changed, went to the water park, had a GREAT day. But all came crashing down when I returned home. Because ya see: I FORGOT TO PUT THE FUCKING SCREEN BACK ON MY WINDOW!!!!

I walked in and my mother and father were standing there. Why was my mother sober and at my fathers house? Why wasn’t my father at work.

“Give me your phone.” My mother said. They accused me of sneaking out. Which I had been. But that was none of their fucking business. Why were they even in the same room together?

“Sure.” I’d said. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I have texts to delete!!!!! As I was trying she snatched it away.

My father had a drink in his hand and was silent. He didn’t ever punish me. He just gave that look. You know the one? Where it’s like “god you disgust me.”

As my mother was going through my phone she got this funny look on her face and looked up smiling.

“So do you have anything to tell me?” She asked taking a seat on the formal living room sofa. I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone sit on it before. I decided to stay standing.

“Nope.” I flashed my new pretty smile they both had bought me. But her eyes narrowed. God she was pretty. Her long black hair and blue eyes. Sure she had Shitty bangs but they worked for her. Everything about her was polished. I assume that’s why my father fucked her. But she was a bitch. And that’s why he left her. So I assume. He never spoke of her.

“Are you sure?” She smiled with a smile prettier than mine looking down at my phone and back up at me.

“Positive.”

“Interesting. Who is Chris?”

LIE LIE LIE LIE.

“Oh that’s my friend Kaitlyn’s boyfriend. Her parents took away her phone.” True! “And so she texts her boyfriend from my phone sometimes.” Shut up. Too many details.

My mother was unphased. And then her face did this weird thing I’d never seen. And she calmly set my phone down.

“This Kaitlyn. Her boyfriend calls her ‘baby boy?’”

Fuck ME!!!!!! My father still silently sipping his drink pacing the room stood still.

“I’m not sure. They’re into some weird shit.” Was my excuse.

“I’m sure.” My mother nodded. “Margret! Get me a drink.” I finally took my first breath thinking it was about fucking time she had a drink. I could hear Margret scrambling to make my mother a drink. After Margret brought her a drink my mother took a long..... LONG sip. Drink! Drink!!!! Please get drunk.

“Wanna try that again?”

“What?” I asked. She did that gross thing where she licked her teeth and purses her lips. It made my skin crawl.

“Fine. Maybe I’m bi.” I said. And then she smiled. I was gay as shit and she knew it. But that’s what we all say at first. No offense to bisexual people.

“Told you, we made a weird one.” Was all she said but not to me, to my father. She tossed my phone back at me. Stood. Swallowed her drink and left.

My father left the room. And Margret took me upstairs to my room. They never spoke of it. I wasn’t punished. In fact I think my father even tried to make an effort. When I’d come home from the galleria with my friends he’d nod and say “hey girlfriends”. Too much. But at least they didn’t hit me. My mother continued to drink herself to sleep and chain smoke cigarettes in her used Volvo.

Like I said in the beginning. I always wanted something tragic to happen to me.... but this wasn’t it. Oh no. Just wait.

So my life went on. I continued to climb the social latter, and even came out at school, realized I was rich and might be gay but I was a part of the elite of Houston. I actually got a boyfriend from a neighboring school. How cute. And then something tragic actually happened to me.

Two days after I started my sophomore year my mother was running errands with my grandmother and they were hit by a drunk driver and died.

And after the funeral. My father had Margret pack up my bags. I actually came home from the funeral (stoned off my ass) to my bags packed.

“What’s going on?” I asked very confused. “Are you going on a trip? Dad, I need you right now.” I wiped away tears that had been falling from my face all day.

He cleared his throat.

“Dad?”

“I think it’s best if you stay with my sister in Maine for the year.”

“But- wait- wha-“ he raised his hand to silence me.

“I’ll come visit. She’s expecting you, wipe your face. Fern’s don’t cry.” And he left the room.

I wiped my face and Margret helped me pack a few more things before loading me into a town car to IAH.

I finally got my tragic story. Dead mom. And being shipped off to an aunt I’ve never met. Or even heard of. Fuck man.

#gay #gays #gayboy #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+ #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #obsessivecompulsivecontestant #childhood #psychology #sociology #space

[probably-writing-x]

Live Capture.

Arón Piper x Reader

Request by anon: would you be able to do an Aron Piper imagine where his girlfriend is a YouTuber but she’s very shy to show him on her channel as a way of protection even though he’s used to the public & then they go out in public & a fan starts to record them...you can take it on from there :) hope you’re staying safe xx

Gif is not my own

Requests are open 🤍

“On your left, on your left!” You call through your microphone, “Yes, downed him, another team coming up behind us.”

Your friend speaks through your headset and updates you on his own progress as both of you were midway through a game on Warzone. You took a moment to glance at the chat on your livestream to YouTube and smiled at a few of the messages before turning back to focus on the game.

“Alright we’ve got enough for a loadout,” You comment, “Cover me.”

He follows your advice and does exactly that, only moments before you’re shot at from another direction and both of you are killed.

“Shit man,” You groan, “I really wasn’t on it that game.”

“Still top ten though,” Your friend points out, “Alright, Imma head off for the night. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

You say your goodbyes and turn back to your chat, reading a few of the comments you’d missed, “I think I’m going to turn in for the night too, thank you guys so much for watching this livestream. And I’ll be uploading a video tomorrow at 6pm so keep your eyes peeled for that one. Good night guys!”

You turn off your stream and shut down everything on your PC, the true sign that you’d be turning in for the night. You grab the empty plate from where your dinner had been and the empty drinks from over the course of the hours that you’d been on stream.

“Hey honey, any luck?” Arón asks from the couch, where he lay with his arm tucked under his head, turned to watch the TV screen.

“We got a couple of wins,” You nod, “Nothing great. I didn’t know you’d still be up.”

“And go to bed without you? Would I ever?” He laughs, “C’mhere.”

You yawn and walk over until you’re close enough that he can reach out and pull you down to lay with him, letting you rest on top of his chest, “What are you watching?”

“One of your videos,” He chuckles, “There was nothing on TV and I didn’t want to watch any of that series without you, so I’m watching your channel.”

“Why?” You smile, looking at which video he’d chosen.

“This is from that day we went to the beach and you were teaching me how to surf. I dont know how you managed to keep me out of the whole video!” He exclaims, “Genuinely there’s not even a glimpse of me.”

“Because I spent about four hours rewatching it and re-editing it to make sure. I’m very secretive when I need to be,” You remind him, leaning up to kiss at his jaw, “They all still ask questions.”

He hums in response, “Do you want to go to bed darling?”

Your eyes are already fluttering shut as he asks the question and he somehow has to figure out how to get you from the couch to your bed without disturbing you too much. It was a regular occurrence after you streamed late at night, and he’d grown to be very good at taking care of you after you’d drained yourself after a long day.

You’d been dating for a little under a year now but it felt like you’d loved him for a lifetime. He’d quickly become everything you could ask for in a boyfriend and the two of you somehow became the perfect match for each other. With him as an actor, and you as a YouTuber, both of you lived very unconventional lives at times - but that’s what made it work so well. You’d kept your relationship away from the public for this entire time, not wanting to risk it ending up like the majority of YouTube relationships nowadays. You liked the fact that your relationship still felt like your own, and you didn’t have to fear the audience response to seeing you with a boyfriend. They’d never seen that side of your life, and truth be told, you were fearful of showing them. For now, it felt so much more comfortable to keep Arón separate. Like it still meant you had him all to yourself.

- - - - - -

The next day, after waking up a little too late, you make sure to post your video on time and read through the comments as soon as it reaches your audience. It had been a fitness challenge that you’d had to ask Arón to help you film when you were at the gym. He’d spent half the time zooming into your face far too close or stopping filming because you’d made him laugh and you could hear him on the recording. Somehow, you’d still managed to avoid showing him in the footage and made sure that he couldn’t be heard too much through the microphone.

“What do you fancy for dinner, darling?” Arón asks as he steps into your filming room and sees you sat at your desk in your gaming chair.

“I’m just reading through the response to the video,” You explain as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, you run your hands along his arms as they encase you.

“Are they all talking about my brilliant filming skills?” He grins, kissing your cheek.

You point out one comment that questions in all capital letters ‘who does she have filming this? Y’all seriously can’t tell me she’s still single!!!!!’

Arón laughs and clicks to read the responses to the comment, pausing on one that is a timestamp from the video. A specific second in the footage that you find yourself skipping to on the video timeline to find exactly what one of your fans was talking about. Quite rightly so, at that exact second, you can just about make out Arón in the reflection of one of the mirrors in the gym. His face isn’t visible but his distinctive curls are obvious enough.

“Shit, do you think they know it’s you?” You ask, sitting more upright in your chair as you look through the rest of the comments about that exact moment.

Some people were suggesting different names, different people that could take the face of that curly hair - but only a few had actually suggested Arón. Someone mentioned the fact that you’d been at the Élite premiere and pointed out that you could’ve been going as his date rather than just a guest at the event - that was, in fact, the truth. Someone else mentioned how Omar followed you on Instagram - the initial way you’d met Arón.

“Oh come on, look, they’re saying loads of names,” He points out, “Theyre all just guessing, my name was bound to be in there at some point.”

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea that they’d be able to see y-“

“Hey,” Arón turns your chair around so you’re facing him, “It’s fine, honestly. I don’t care, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You sigh, smiling as he cups your face in his hands.

“Positive,” He nods, leaning in and kissing you, “I say we just order in for dinner.”

You laugh and let him pull you up to stand, “Good idea.”

- - - - - -

The following day, you and Arón are on your way to your parents place for your father’s birthday. You manage to get up at a semi-acceptable time and keep yourself away from social media to avoid all of the questions about your mystery boyfriend. You step into the taxi and try to keep yourself relaxed.

“Hey! I know you!” The taxi driver speaks up, glancing in the mirror at Arón, “You’re on Netflix. My daughter watches your show all the time!”

“Thanks man, that means a lot,” Arón smiles politely, glancing at you for a second.

The man rambles on a little more about the show and how much he’d learnt about it from his daughter, laughing at how jealous she’d be that he’d met Arón.

“And is this your girlfriend?” The taxi driver asks, glancing at you in the mirror too.

“No, just a friend,” Arón nods, forcing a little smile in your direction, “So, have you been busy today?”

You’re relieved that he steers the topic away from you and tries to keep some level of awkward small talk with the driver as you eventually pull up in town.

“You can just drop us here, buddy, thank you,” Arón comments, getting out of the car and waiting for you.

“That’s a sign! That’s a sign, people know about us,” You state simply as you step out of the car, “I’m certain.”

“(Y/n)!” Arón laughs, “It’s fine! We have no certainty that people know we’re together, and we’ll let it stay that way. Stop worrying honey, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

You sigh and try to relax under the influence of his words.

“You’re cute when you get stressed,” He chuckles, reaching for your hand and squeezing it, “Really cute.”

You cock a brow, “You know, maybe I should tell everyone about us - feed you to the lions type of attitude.”

Arón laughs, “They’ll fucking love me!”

He cups your jaw with his free hand and dips his head to press a kiss to your waiting lips. It’s soft and it gives the sincerity to his words that his tone hadn’t done. You were so worried about everyone finding out about you, mainly because you were terrified of it ruining a time in your life where you were happier than you’d ever been. It was silly but you liked the idea of preventing your relationship from being strained by the public view. For now, it felt so much easier to keep this between you. When it had first started, you wanted to keep things private until you knew that this was something real and something you were sure of. But when you’d started to feel that way, it felt even more important to keep that private - knowing that you cared too much about Arón to jeopardise anything.

“Come on, lets go grab some food,” He encourages, locking his hand with yours before swinging an arm over your shoulder so that your interlocked hands rested just over your heart, “What are the odds that the taxi driver was actually a fan? I bet he doesn’t even have a daughter!” Arón jokes and yet again manages to say exactly what you needed to hear to ease your stress.

- - - - - -

A little later, as you’re sat at your parents house with your parents and your siblings, Arón comes walking through from the kitchen with your nephew in his arms.

“There she is!” He grins when he sees you, letting your nephew run over until he jumps into your arms.

“Where have you two been?” You laugh, looking at his disheveled Arón appeared.

“We’ve been on the trampoline,” Arón groans, flopping down beside you, “I think I’m too old for that now.”

“You think?” You smirk, “You’re a mess!”

He grabs your phone from the side and checks his appearance in the black screen. Your nephew giggles and reaches over to grab at his messy curls. Arón smiles and goes to tickle him, only glancing away when he sees your phone ping in his hand.

“Jeez, you’re popular today,” He comments, showing you the endless list of notifications on your phone.

“Probably just the boys asking about playing later, can you open it for me?” You ask, shifting your nephew so he was now stood on your thighs facing you as you make silly faces at him to keep him occupied.

“Oh shit...” Arón mumbles.

“Arón!” You hiss, making wide eyes in the direction of your nephew.

“Sorry, babe, but you need to see this,” You set your nephew down and he runs off to his own mother before you take your phone from Arón.

His reaction now seemed completely justified. In a group chat with a bunch of your friends from YouTube, you’re being bombarded with messages. Some of them are accompanied by photos but the majority are accompanied by laughing emojis. Quite rightly so as the photos show clear shots of you and Arón from earlier. The images had clearly been taken from across the street when you’d first got out of the taxi. One of you laughing at something he’d said, one of you kissing, another of you kissing, and a few of you walking away with his arm around you.

“Who took those?!” You exclaim, “I didn’t even see anybody... or hear anybody...”

“Hey, hey, look,” Arón nudges you, handing you his own phone that showed all of his mentions on Instagram.

You’d already been tagged in a flurry of posts about the situation - 100% of them being purely positive and excited for both of you. People saying how perfect you were for each other. Some pointing out moments from your streams and from YouTube where it was obvious you were talking to someone behind the camera - who they now understood to be Arón.

“They’re all so excited,” You half-laugh, “Look, theres even a fucking video of us!”

You show him a video a fan had taken of you two together that’s accompanied by the caption - ‘I wanted to speak to them but they’re just so fricking cute I didn’t want to disturb them!!!’

You smile at all of the supportive messages from your fans, commenting on how happy they were for you, though some were jealous of you being Arón’s girlfriend.

“Well, looks like that turned out better than we expected,” Arón comments, “Should we say anything?”

You look at him and grin, flicking your Instagram camera on as you pose for the photo. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and rests his head against yours as you both smile at the screen.

You type out a quick caption ‘You got us...’ and post it to your story. Though you lock your phone before you can become too bombarded by replies to the image.

“Shit, does this mean I can play Warzone with you now?!”

“You’re still terrible, maybe when you get a bit better,” You laugh, kissing him quickly.

#aron #aron piper #aron x reader #aron x you #aron x y/n #aron piper x reader #aron piper x you #aron piper x y/n #aron imagine #aron one shot #aron drabble #aron blurb #aron fanfiction #aron writing #aron request #aron piper imagine #aron piper one shot #aron piper drabble #aron piper blurb #aron piper fanfiction #aron piper writing #aron piper request #elite #elite fanfiction #elite imagine #elite one shot #elite drabble #elite blurb #elite writing #elite request

[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    8/?

To read on  Ao3 click here  

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

The last hurdle, I think.

                                     —————————————

‘Cathy?’ Kat asks as they are enjoying a drink at their favourite coffee shop. ‘Do you need any help with your song?’ It seems to be taking a long time, even by her perfectionist standards.

Cathy just gives her a loaded look.

‘It doesn’t have to be me. Anne can help too.’

‘No!’ Cathy’s response comes out sharp. ‘Sorry. No.’ She repeats, softer but no less resolute.

‘You know it doesn’t need to perfect. Just a first draft.’

‘That’s not the problem.’

‘So there is a problem?’

Cathy doesn’t reply.

‘You can tell me anything.’

‘Can I?’ She sounds downcast.

‘Of course!’ Kat gives her an encouraging smile that turns into a frow when it is not reciprocated.

Cathy gives her another pondering, weighted stare, before quickly tapping on her phone and silently handing it to her.

Kat looks at the screen and starts reading what seems to be an article about Cathy and Elizabeth, if the title is to be believed.

‘Is it true?’ Kat asks, almost begging for a different answer that the one she knows she is going to get. Why else Cathy would have wanted her to read it?

She puts the phone on table at Cathy’s sharp nod, gingerly pushing it towards her.

‘I need...’ She stands up. ‘Yeah.’

Again, Cathy only nods, evading her eyes, head hung. Not an ounce of surprise, just resignation.

Kat walks home on autopilot. She hurls herself at Catalina as soon as she sees her, hugging her fiercely.

‘Hey,’ Catalina doesn’t hesitate one second to wrap her arms around her, ‘what happened?’ she was going to ask if she was okay, but that clearly isn’t the case.

Kat just hugs her tighter. Is this how Catalina feels knowing what happened to her?

‘Can I do anything?’ She feels Kat moving her head, she assumes she is shaking it since no words follow.  ‘Did something happen with Cathy?’

‘Just...can you hold me?’

‘Always and forever.’ Catalina cradles her even closer, burying her face into Kat's hair. ‘I’m never letting you go.’

They move to the couch, after a while, not relenting their hold on each other, Catalina patiently waiting as Kat cries silently, rubbing her back.

‘Feel better?’ She asks after she hears Kat starting to sniffle rather than crying.

‘No.’

‘Can I help?’ She asks again. It breaks her heart to see her girl like this.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Kat says after a while, voice hoarse and cracking, sitting up a bit. ‘I need you not to ask questions. Just give me your...advice? Opinion?’

‘That I can do.’ Catalina nods, tenderly wiping away tears from Kat's cheeks.

‘If someone you liked...did something bad-’

‘Is this about Cathy?’

‘Mamá!’ If not for the situation, it would have been funny the look Kat sends her that clearly says ‘what did I just tell you??’

‘Sorry. Go on.’

‘That’s it. Pretty much. What do you do if someone did...hurt people,’ she swallows, ‘in the past. But still.’

Silence stretches on. Catalina is never one to talk without thinking, even in normal circumstances. Kat knows it, so she leans back against her mother, waiting.

‘Okay.’ Catalina takes a breath, ordering her thoughts. ‘Without having context? First thing I’d want to know...why? Why did they do that? Did they want to? Did they enjoy it? Was it on purpose? Look. Take Anne. She hurt me. A lot. I hated her for a long time. Now I sort of understand why she did what she did. I realise that it was not all her fault. And I forgave her. Doesn’t mean I forget what she did. Or that it doesn’t still hurt. But I forgave her. Not to say that you need to do that.’ she squeezes Kat to stress the point. ‘But usually understanding helps. In one way or the other. Also knowing if the person changed. If they feel remorse. Guilt. If they know they did wrong and apologise.’

‘But what if they hurt others, not you?’

‘Well, you sort of hated Anne on my behalf, didn’t you? Without ever meeting her. And then we came back, and you got to know her and now you don’t. Hate her, I mean. You love her. Look.’ Catalina hesitates, thinking about the best way to word it. ‘Every case is different. But as general advice, I would tell you that having as much info as possible, about the situation, the circumstances, might help. It did help me with Anne.’

It’s with that in mind that Kat meets up with Cathy. ‘I have questions.’

‘Anything you want to know.’ Cathy breaths out. It’s already more than she deserves or expected.

 .

‘Why is Kat not here?’

‘She knows we’re meeting if that’s what you’re asking.’

Jane frowns. It is not what she was asking. But Cathy seems to be in a weird mood, dark face and sharp movements, so she doesn’t press.

‘I need to tell you something.’ Except she can’t bring herself to tell them, just like she couldn’t with Kat. So she hands all four of them a printed version of the article she had showed Kat.

‘How could you.’ Is all Anne can get out, silent tears of pain and rage trailing down her face, papers crumpled in her hands.

‘How can you look Kat in the eyes? Is that why she isn’t here?’

Cathy looks up from her hands at Anna, who is looking in her direction...but not at her, eyes focused just a bit to the left.

‘She is not here because there was no need to bring up bad memories again.’

‘You told her first.’ Catalina interrupts her.

‘Yes.’ Cathy confirms, forcing herself to look at Catalina’s disappointed face. ‘She was the one encouraging me to tell you.’

Silence.

‘I’m going to leave.’

All she gets is terse nods.

Catalina looks at the others. They are all shocked and speechless. She feels like it’s up to her to take the lead since she had...well, not an idea, since she would have never guessed in a million years that this was what had left Kat so shaken. Because she could have never imagined Cathy doing something like that. But she has an idea of what she can tell the others...

‘Did you know?’ Anne turns to Catalina as Anna and Jane leave.

‘Of course not!’

‘You sure? Had a speech ready, hadn’t you?’ she snarls. ‘And she is your goddaughter.’

‘Last I knew of her she was still married to her first husband.’ Not to mention that she died more than ten years before those upsetting events happened. ‘And we’re not that close. That would be Kat. And the speech? Is exactly what I told Kat.’ Catalina knows that Anne is not angry with her, she just needs an outlet. ‘I didn’t know what had happened. Kat had not wanted to say. Just asked what she should do if someone she liked had hurt people.’

‘She hurt Elizabeth.’ Anne mutters brokenly.

‘He hurt her.’ She feels like she needs to point out.

‘And she let him.’ she snaps.

‘Look. I’m not saying you need to forgive her. But I forgave you.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Why?’

‘She hurt my child.’

‘Because mine got away scot free, right?’ Catalina can’t help herself. ‘Ever thought that if I had stayed married, none of this,’ she gestures around with her hands, as to encompass everything, ‘would have happened?’

‘Are you saying this is all my fault?’

‘I. Did. Not. Say. That.’ she punctuates the words, wanting to make sure the message comes across. ‘Obviously, it was mostly overwhelmingly Henry’s fault. But for years I thought so. And then we talked. I learned your side of the story. Understood the whys and hows better. I now know that most of the hurt you caused me was not your intention. And while I’ll never forget it, I forgave you.’

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical #fic: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now #six fanfiction #six writing #my six posts #six the musical fic #six fic #mywork #my ideas #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #my posts #sixfic

[mikkomacko]

Christmas Magic 2

The smack delivered to her arm stings against her bare skin, y/n flinching immediately. "He's a dad?" Emma exclaims loudly, dropping her candy cane striped hat to the floor. "You're going out with someone's father?"

"Would you chill, it's not like he's forty!" Y/n hisses, rubbing at her bicep that Emma had slapped in reaction to y/n telling her about Harry. She pulls down the skirt of her Mrs. Claus dress, smoothing out the white fuzz at the edging.

"But he's like had a child," Emma says as if y/n's missing something obvious. "you'd be like a mom but not a mom."

She can't help but roll her eyes at her friend and co-worker's words. "Dad's deserve rights too, you know? Especially hot dads."

Emma laughs at that, swatting at her arm again. Thankfully it's playful this time. "Ok but how hot is he?"

"A cross of Mick Jagger and Bill Skarsgard."

"Holy fuck he's your wet dream!"

"I know," she squeals, clenching her fists as she does a little dance of excitement in her spot. "and his daughter is so sweet. Like I know I love kids, but I really fucking love this kid."

Y/n has always loved kids. She grew up with lots of cousins and friends that had little siblings so being around children was second nature. Not to mention all the time she volunteered at nurseries and elementary schools and children's hospitals.

Emma tells her something but she's not listening enough to answer, and they finish getting ready for their set in silence because y/n is too deep into her thoughts to answer. And even as she's onstage, looking around just in case Harry and Ophelia happen to be back, she can't help but wonder if Harry loves all kids the way she does or if he's just soft for his daughter.

~

"A date?" Gemma gasps, and Harry can picturing her clutching her non-existent pearls. "With a woman?"

"Yes Gem," Harry exasperates, "a woman has agreed to go on a date with me this weekend."

She giggles through the phone, either happy that he's got his first real date in four years or proud of her own joke. "So the nipper needs a babysitter huh?"

Harry cradles his phone between his ear and shoulder, grabbing the check in form on the reception desk. "Yes she does and she's very excited to see her aunt Gemma." He winces through the lie, remembering how much Ophelia had wailed when he informed her that she wouldn't be attending dinner with him and y/n.

"Does she know your going on a date or does she think you're working late again?"

"Umm," Harry pauses, hearing Gemma's words but too caught up reading over all the names that have signed in. After a moment, one in which Gemma knows he's multitasking ( or trying to), Harry finally answers. "she knows it's a date. Wouldn't lie to her."

"How'd she take the news?"

"Well, I um, I asked the girl out when Ophelia was with me." Harry admits and as he thinks about it, he's lucky Ophelia didn't burst into a tantrum in that cafe when he'd asked. She's always had issues with sharing Harry, even going as far as yelling at his old boss when he'd had to come in on a weekend, leaving her with Uncle Niall.

"So she knows you're a dad then?"

Harry scoffs, "Of course, wouldn't ask someone out without telling them about the little miss."

Gemma makes a sound as if to say "that's why you've never gotten any dates" and he's tempted to tell her that he's in fact never wanted to date anyone until he met y/n. He thinks it was how starry eyed she had Ophelia. Or maybe it's how sweet her smile is.

Harry's interrupted by a terrible, screeching cry from down the hall. "Sorry Gem, gotta go. I've got a crier. I'll text ya the time." He's hanging up his phone, dropping it onto his desk quite ungracefully, and swiping up a patient chart as quickly as he can. Harry jogs down the hall to the room of Charles M. Brunt, putting on a smile as he enters the room.

"S'all this crying for me?" He greets, catching the attention of the wailing boy. He stops squirming in his mother's arms, staring up at Harry with big, teary eyes and a trembling bottom lip.

"D-do I really have to get a shot?"

Harry tries not to smile because he had a feeling all this wailing was due to a shot. Instead, he pouts sympathetically and nods. "I'm afraid so but don't you worry. I promise it won't hurt."

Charlie's face wobbles a bit as he sniffles sadly, looking to his mother for help. She wipes his tears, shrugging sadly at him. "We trust Mr. Harry don't we Charlie?" Charlie nods at her words. "Then we know this will be ok."

Harry offers him one last encouraging smile before gathering everything for Charlie's flu shot, picking out the Avengers band-aid because he knows Charlie loves that one. Harry gets Charlie's sleeve rolled up and latex gloves on, wiping his bicep with an alcohol wipe. Charlie attaches himself to his mother's arm, squeezing her hand for dear life like he always does.

"Hey Charlie," Harry distracts, subtly pulling the cap off the needle. "what'd ya ask Santa for for Christmas?"

Charlie seems to forget what's going on, relaxing as he falls victim to the excitement of Christmas. He starts listing off different types of Legos he asked for, only pausing when Harry picks him with the needle. He's quick to inject the fluid before Charlie tenses to much, pulling the needle out and covering it with the band-aid.

"We did it Mr. Harry!" Charlie laughs, straining his neck to look at his band-aid. "And you put Thor on me! I love Thor!"

Harry chuckles. "Well he is the best." He responds even though he couldn't care less about the best superhero. He's pretty sure he told Ophelia last week that Captain America is the best Avenger because he's her favorite.

Harry sends Charlie off to the checkout desk with a fist-bump and a "merry Christmas," wondering which superhero y/n thinks is the best.

~

She's nervous. Really nervous as she paces back and forth in the living room of her little apartment, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. She's got her water proof boots on, her gloves tucked into the pocket of her winter coat, and tights on under her jeans, beyond prepared to brace the cold so she can enjoy her night with Harry.

Her date with Harry.

But he's late. Not so late that she'd think he'd stood her up, especially since he called her ten minutes ago, breathless and a bit grumpy, to tell her that he's running a tiny bit late. She doesn't know how far he lives or if he's driving or taking the train or maybe a taxi, so she can't really time how long it'll take him to get to her complex.

Y/n is in the middle of re-tying her boots when her phone rings, Harry’s name popping up on the screen as well as a picture of Mick Jagger back when he was around her age. She’s quick to answer, breathless with nerves as she softly says “hello?”

"M'outside," Harry says, sounding a lot happier than he did earlier, before quickly adding, "well I think I'm outside." He chuckles a rumble-y little titter that crackles in the phone's speaker while y/n tugs on her coat and rushes outside, locking the door behind her. She peers down from the second story landing, spotting the black car she'd seen him load Ophelia into after the carnival.

"There you are," she assures him, practically hopping down the stairs. "M'coming now."

"Ya know I can see ya, right?" Harry laughs teasingly but cutely, and she can't recall a time she's ever referred to someone's father as cute.

"Well I didn't know if you could see in the dark or not!" Y/n defends, laughing because there's just something about Harry that makes her overflow with giggles.

"Old enough to be a father, love but m'not old enough to be blind."

She laughs even more at that, blushing over the fact that Harry's so hilarious. She's never met a guy that's been genuinely silly and funny like Harry is.

"Blindness comes in all ages sir." She responds sassily, giggling when Harry chuckles deeply. His only line of defense is a response of "hurry up and get in the bloody car," but she's already reaching for the handle of the passenger side door. She hops in, the heating blasting against her cold cheeks and the seat warm under her body.

"You're being awful bossy," y/n says, phone still pressed to her ear despite the fact that Harry has set his in his lap and looking at her with bright eyes, that twinkle blue and she can't help but swoon over the fact that sometimes his eyes are blue and sometimes they're green. She wonders if Ophelia's eyes do that too.

Harry simpers, a little shyly, and shrugs. "M'a dad. Bossy comes with the title."

Y/n rolls her eyes, finally hanging up her phone and tucking it into the pocket of her coat. Harry looks at her expectantly, hand resting on the gear shift and she quickly buckles up to appease him.

"Speaking of being a dad," y/n murmurs, unable to stop herself. "how's Ophelia?"

The smile that takes over his face is breathtaking, crinkling by his eyes and indenting dimples into his cheek. He only glances at her for a second before returning his eyes to the road and y/n realizes she doesn't know where they're going. Then she catches the glimmer in his eyes and decides she doesn't care.

"She's good. Spent the day making gingerbread houses with her before my sister came to babysit for the night." Y/n practically coos at the longing in Harry’s voice, as if he’d do anything to always have her with him.

"Wait," she frowns, turning in her seat to look at him. "was she upset that you were leaving tonight?"

Harry looks at her curiously for a very brief second, shrugging as he struggles to come up with an answer. Y/n already knows the answer that's going to come out of his mouth. "She was a little hurt that she wasn't tagging along," he finally replies, sugar coating the fact that Ophelia had a tantrum when Harry went to leave without her.

"She was?" Y/n grimaces, slumping into the seat. The car comes to a red light, Harry finally looking at her once they've stopped.

"S'why I was late," he says apologetically. "she was hurt that I got to come see you and she didn't."

And that wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She thought he'd gently tell her that Ophelia was hurt that someone was stealing her daddy for the night. That Ophelia hated y/n and didn't want Harry with her. She saw how much Ophelia loves Harry, how anxious she is without him. She can't really imagine Ophelia being sad that she wasn't spending time with y/n instead of being sad that she wasn't spending time with her father.

"Really?"

Harry must hear the surprise in her voice because he chuckles softly, nodding as he takes the green arrow to head left. They're going to the outskirts of the city where there's mostly just big luxurious houses and small business. She listens with a tiny smile and blushing cheeks as Harry tells her all about Ophelia's love for her. He gushes that Ophelia keeps begging to go back to the carnival and if he didn't have work he probably would have taken her because she's just so sulky every time Harry tells her they can't go visit y/n. And when he tells her that Ophelia typically hates strangers, but not her, she thinks her heart's going to beat right out of her chest.

~

The restaurant Harry chose is small but cozy, dim-lighted with dark wood floors and oak tables and booths. Garland and white lights line every single window, mistletoe hung from every light fixture, and a thin but tall tree placed by the entrance next to the hostess. Judging by the pictures on the wall, it's family owned and operated since 1985 when a man named Carl Knox opened it for his wife, Lucilia. She can't help but think how cute it is that the restaurant is called Lucy's.

Harry seems to be a regular here, comfortably hanging his coat on the hooks by their booth and helping y/n out of hers. Always nervous in new places, she fiddles a bit when she first slides into the booth and is handed a menu by a teenager named Justin who greets Harry with a "nice to see you again Mr. Styles. No little one tonight?"

He chuckles, glancing at y/n with that same shy look he had when he'd reminded her in the car that he's a father, and she wonders if he's worried about the fact that he has a child.

"Not tonight, no," He murmurs, rubbing his knuckle against the tip of his nose. "and ya know not to call me Mr. Styles, come on."

Justin laughs, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I know, I just like to see ya get all uncomfortable when I say it." Harry rolls his eyes, again looking at y/n shyly as he rubs his knuckle against his nose once more. Y/n catches a peek of yellow that has her heart jumping. "Alright, back to business. I'll be back in a minute to take your orders."

Justin moves to another table and y/n finally drops the menu she was pretending to read, only to find Harry already looking at her. He blinks nervously when they're eyes meet and she can't stop herself from asking, "can I see your nails?"

Harry looks down at his lap when his hands sit, bobbing his head in a tiny nod. She sees his Adams's apple bob as he swallows, bringing his hands up to the table top. He splays them out, skin pale against the dark wood and his sweater sleeve rises a bit to show off a glimpse of dark ink. He's got tattoos, she realizes as she spots the cross by his thumb. She doesn't think much of it as she reaches out to run her pointer finger over the cross, smiling proudly when she sees his nails. She knew it.

"They match Ophelia's." She muses, looking over his yellow nails that are topped with the same smiley faces Ophelia had on hers. She looks up at Harry through her eyelashes, blushing at the look of awe on his face.

"Y-yeah," he breathes. "she loves having them painted but m'awful at it. Took her to this place by m'home but she was nervous so I got mine done too. She was so happy and I like the colors, so we kinda made it a tradition."

Her bones feel like jelly with how warm her veins have gotten. She knew from the minute she saw Harry that he's handsome. He's so handsome she'd even go as far as calling him hot, and she hates calling people hot, but he makes her feel hot. And she knew he's a good dad, could tell when she read the identification card Ophelia had handed her. But she's never met any man that would willing get his nails done with his daughter and enjoy it enough to keep doing it. She's overwhelmed with how cute and handsome and sweet and sexy he is.

"That's," she pauses, trying to catch her breath. Her finger continues to dance over the soft skin of his hand. "that's the most adorable thing I've ever heard." Harry chuckles bashfully, shrugging and somehow that makes him even more attractive.

"S'nothing. I mean, she's my daughter, ya know?"

"It's not nothing," y/n insists. "it's really sweet and progressive of you. I mean, my dad would never do that."

Harry's eyes flicker between hers, dazzling blue and warm. He shrugs again, looking as if he's about to say something but is interrupted by Justin returning with glasses of water. They're pulled out of their moment, Harry ordering an iced tea and a chicken salad sandwich. Y/n sticks to her water but orders a salmon salad.

Once Justin's left with their orders, Harry looks at her with a purse of lips that looks as if he's trying to keep from saying something. Y/n chuckles, wrapping her fingers around her glass of water. "What?"

"You gotta tell me how ya got the job of singing and dancing in a costume." He chuckles, leaning forward on his elbows. Y/n, familiar with this question, tells him that she works at the radio station that puts on this carnival, and she'd done a segment years ago in which she sang a duet with a bunch of guests artists. Apparently everyone enjoyed it so they begged her to sing for the carnival and she's just kept doing it ever since.

They fall into easy conversation, not even pausing when their food is delivered. Between bites of the best salad she's ever eaten and sips of water, she finds out that Harry is a nurse at the pediatrics ward of the hospital and his favorite part of the job is the fact that it made raising Ophelia easier. They gave him lots of time off when she was born because he's been her sole parent since birth, and he's got a flexible schedule so he can always pick her up for school and spend weekends with her. He also didn't have to worry about little colds or teething when she was younger because he's learned all about it.

Harry doesn't talk about Ophelia's mom and she doesn't ask. Even when he mentions that Ophelia's nothing like her mother, and he looks almost scared that he's mentioned it, y/n plays it off with a little comment about how she's nothing like her father, but she's really glad Ophelia's like hers.

Y/n can't believe how comfortable she is around Harry. They'd talked that day at the cafe and got on well but there was no pressure to impress there. Here, however, is the pressure of a first date that usually makes her awkward and nervous. With Harry, it's not the case. They laugh and joke around, and nudge their feet together under the table. They argue over the bill a bit, Harry finally paying it to make up for the hot coco she bought him and Ophelia, but he promises next time they can split it.

The car ride home is filled with Christmas music that Harry insists she sing along to since she's "a proper performer." But she can't even hold a good note because Harry's constantly glancing at her with a big smile that has her breathless and laughing. She's still giggling at him when they pull up to her apartment, this time Harry shutting down the engine and unbuckling.

Y/n doesn't really question him when he gets out, rushing around the front of the car with a little hop in the headlights that has her snorting. He opens her door for her, helping her down and adjusting the collar of her coat in the same way she saw him fix Ophelia's at the carnival. She can't help but be endeared by the little mannerism.

"Second floor?" Harry asks, offering his elbow to her. She nods, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow and they head towards the stairs. Their breath fogs out around them, puffing out when they reach the top and Harry let's out a dramatically harsh pant.

"Sorry, the dad bod's getting to me."

She giggles, breathing a little difficult too but she thinks it's from Harry, not the cold or her body shape. Y/n leads him to her front door, pausing with the key in the lock.

"Do you want to come in?"

Harry looks sorry as he shakes his head, pursing his pink lips to the side. "Would really love too but I gotta get home to the little miss. Never been out this late before and m'afraid she'll be a little rattled."

"Oh my God," y/n gasps, slipping her arm out of his. "what are you doing up here then? Get home!"

Harry chuckles, that same rumble-y laugh she'd heard over the phone. It's prettier in person, even with how masculine it is. "Forgot to do something at the restaurant," he explains, bringing his hands up to her shoulders. He's hesitant, eyes flickering between hers as he reaches up with one hand to push hair out of her face.

"Oh," she breathes, able to smell his husky cologne. He cups her cheek, gloves soft on her skin, and waits to see if she's going to shake him off. When she doesn't, he takes a little step forward. Y/n does the same, bringing her hands up to his chest.

Harry smiles cutely, leaning down to put a small kiss to her lips. His lips are cold but somehow still soft, his breath warm on her cheeks. She pecks his lips back, eyes closing just briefly to feel how soft his lips are on hers, even if it only lasts a couple seconds.

"S'no mistletoe here," Harry murmurs, stroking his thumb over her cheek "but I couldn't not kiss ya." His touch is electrifying, eyes sparkling like Christmas lights and y/n definitely thinks there's something magic about him.

#christmas magic #Christmas Magic 2 #single dad harry #dad harry #dad harry styles #fluff #Harry and Ophelia #nurse Harry #one direction #fanfiction #fanfic #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

[blissfulalchemist]

“Do you miss them?” + “this is for the best.” For CatRaf?

Hi Jo! Your reward is getting a little bit of Cat’s past! Thank you though for suggesting cause Cat needs to address this. 

“Wren, I’ve been thinking,” Cat gave a small pause meeting Wren’s blue eyes, “I think its time for me to go home.”

She gave me a smirk, “Not for another three hours. If I have to suffer then so do you,” she gave a laugh, “It’s what sisters do.” 

Cat looked away hiding the sharp pain in her heart at Wren calling them sisters. There was no doubt that they were sisters on some level, but recently every time it was mentioned Cat felt like it was wrong to some extent. It hurt. She had sisters, blood ones, two states away that she hadn’t seen in almost two years beyond the pictures they posted or sent her now, and here she was building a new family like they didn’t even exist. Cat pushed the food around in the tupperware, her voice soft, “That’s not what I meant Wren,” she looked up to her friend through the hair falling in her face trying to gauge Wren’s reaction.

Wren set her bite of cheesecake down, “Oh. You mean home home.” Cat gave a small nod, “You don’t mean forever right?”

“No,” she shook her head, “Just for a little bit. There’s some things I need to take care of.” Things that need to be done before I move forward.

“Do you miss them?” Cat looked up waiting for some kind of clarification, “Your family.”

“Yeah,” she gave a small shrug, “It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen them in person. I’ve,” she let out a slow breath, “I’ve missed a lot and its time I start trying to repair those relationships. I can’t keep running forever.” 

Wren gave a slow nod, “You’re right about that. Have you talked to Raf about it yet? Is he going with you?”

“I don’t think so, but I’m talking to him about it all tonight,” she said as she gave Wren’s hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s just for a week.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The slam of the trunk made Cat’s heart race as she looked at her faint reflection in the body of her car. She was really doing this, really going back home for the first time in a long time. She turned giving Wes a hug and then to Wren, “You sure you’re going to be okay all by yourself,” Cat could hear the worry in Wren’s voice, You promise you’ll come back for sure, “I can always go with you still. Offer some protection against your family.”

“I’ll be fine Wren, it’s only for a week like I said. Back before you know it,” Cat held out her hand pinky extended, Wren smirking, “I never break a pinky promise. Just ask Wes.” She let out a small laugh as she interlocked her pinky with Cat’s. 

“Yeah Shadow,” Cat jumped at the sudden closeness of Raf’s voice behind her, “Sorry,” he gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Cat’s gonna be fine. I’m going with her.”

She looked up to Raf who was already loading a bag in the trunk and a small cooler in the back seat, “No you’re not. I told you I was doing this on my own.”

“I won’t get in your way,” he grabbed her hand, “Besides I’d be seen as a shit boyfriend if I didn’t meet your family. Can’t have that now can we?”

Cat took a deep breath, a smile coming to her face, “No we don’t. Pretty sure I’d never live it down if I didn’t bring you along.”

Raf kissed her forehead before turning to Wren, “Now make sure he eats and gets enough entertainment and play. Take him on a walk at least once a day,” Cat and Wes rolled their eyes, hers more playful with a smile.

Cat gave Raf a small nudge with her elbow, “Stop it. Wren’s taken care of Wes before.” She pointed to Wes, “Now see you gotta make sure she has enough cheesecake, love, and attention while I’m gone. I don’t want to come back to a sad Wren.”

Wren gave a small laugh as Wes waved them to the car, “Alright, get outta here.” Raf grabbed the keys from Cat making his way to the drivers side. Once settled the two waved as they pulled out of the driveway to the main road.

“At least it’s easy to get there once we’re on I-90,” Cat mused as she got the music set up for the ten hour drive, “Then it’s I-25 and I can give more specific directions as we’re closer.” Cat looked down at the phone in her hand, eyes staring through the screen, “You really didn’t have to come with me, Raf.”

He glanced her way briefly, “I know why you’re really going,” he reached for her hand kissing the top of it, “You shouldn’t be alone for it. I also promise you I won’t be in your way, but I’ll be there for when you need me.” Cat leaned up kissing his cheek in thanks, laying her head against his shoulder as they started their day long drive. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She felt glued to the seat as she looked up to the town house, the light blue a bright spot against the navy sky. She didn’t want to stay with family and had opted out of a hotel, that may have been a mistake on her part. She forced herself out of the car and up to the front door on her shaky legs. It had been empty all this time, the last person to walk through was a friend that was asked to make sure everything was okay and in order still for her arrival. She should have sold this place a while ago, but it was one of the last things that bound her here in a way, if you looked beyond the logistics. 

The door swung open as she came face to face with the small wall where his coat still hung, shoes still lined up under the little bench, and the unopened box of multichrome utensils above them. She stepped through the threshold to the past, well a skeleton version of it. There were things too valuable to lose packed and stored away in places that could be locked up, until she decided what to do. The posters, pictures, furniture, books, knick knacks, and memorabilia still where she left it, like she had never left. The empty cases Theo had been looking through to find a game he needed still fanned out on the coffee table. The converted poker table still had dice and character sheets on it from the game they had all played. The small dining table was still set up ready for an anniversary dinner, all of it an echo of the past that she had refused to let go of.

Walking around she could see that her friend was kind enough to clean everything up, even leaving fresh linens that weren’t hers on the bed and in the bathroom upstairs. The once vacuumed sealed pillows, fluffy and set up with the rest of the bed. Their bed. She wondered if the pillows still held the scent of his body wash on them. “Cat,” Raf’s voice was soft as he walked up behind her, setting their bags just outside the room. Pictures of them still hung on the walls in this part of the house, “How are you holding up,” he whispered, putting his arms around her.

Her eyes couldn’t stop scanning the room, pieces of that day still lingering after all this time, things she never moved because she didn’t want to believe he was gone. Eventually they just became reminders that he was there, parts of him that were always going to stay with her. “We don’t have to sleep in the bed, mi amor,” Raf suggested. She shook her head slowly, walking towards the bed, her fingers brushing the left side of the bed, before picking up one of the pillows. She didn’t need to bring it up to her nose to get the faintest hint of his scent lingering. Cat felt her legs buckle beneath her, sitting on the bed clutching the pillow. 

The hole she felt in her chest ached, the edges searing, as it pulled apart, her eyes filling with tears. She felt herself start to rock, burying her face into the pillow, the faint creaking of Raf’s footsteps nearing her. He bent down meeting her at eye level, hand on her knee, “Do you want some time alone?” She gave a nod, holding back her sobs, “Okay,” he nodded slowly as he stood, “I’ll keep the door open a bit,” he gave her a small hug kissing the top of her head, “I’ll be downstairs on the couch if you need me.” She listened for the familiar sounds of someone downstairs away from the sounds of her crying, before lying on the bed clutching on to the pillow in her arms. 

The sound of the front door slamming woke Catlina up, her mind going back to that morning, panic surging through her before she focused on the sheets, different from that day. She took a few deep breaths listening to the rest of the small house. She heard faint shuffling in the kitchen downstairs, getting up to change into the pjs she brought with her. She made her way down the stairs quietly, sitting once she was able to see the kitchen through the wooden railing. She watched as Raf put away groceries and set things up for breakfast, trying to get acquainted with where everything was in her old kitchen. 

He mumbled to himself as he opened every cabinet and drawer looking for the skillet, she smiled watching as he missed checking under the oven. “The oven,” she said, Raf’s brown eyes looking up to her in surprise. She nodded to the oven, “Skillet is in the drawer under it.” He bent down pulling it out holding it up for her to see.

She stayed in place watching him, “You used to watch him cook from there,” Raf asked, smiling, getting the pan warmed up.

“He didn’t cook very much,” she leaned her head against the wood, “But I would when he tried to surprise me with breakfast. It was always the smell of the pancakes that woke me.”

“The box ones, I assume,” Cat nodded watching as he put the bacon in the pan. “Guess some things never change,” she tilted her head confused, “I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast already made,” he pointed with the chef’s knife at her, “and there you are sitting there watching me.”

She grew quiet, watching him a minute longer before getting up to sit at the small breakfast bar. “What would you want to do today?” She rested her chin on top of her hands on the counter, “We don’t have to be at the dinner until four and you woke me up earlier than I thought you would.”

He chuckled, his eyes never leaving his work, “You’re still adamant about the main reason we’re here being done tomorrow?” She didn’t answer, “Well if that’s the case let’s do something easy in the city.”

“Like the museum and zoo?”

“Don’t think we’ll have enough time for both, Conejito,” he said, “Gotta be one or the other.”

She rolled her eyes, “We easily can do both. The museum and zoo are basically across the street from each other. My sisters and I would do both all the time. Start with the zoo because it’s cooler in the morning and then do the museum while it’s hot outside.”

He gave her a kiss, “You lead and I’ll follow, how about that?”

Raf was proven wrong in their ability to accomplish both places in one day, the tension relieving as they walked around each place doing all they could, except the IMAX at the museum. Cat promised him that they would come back before they left, knowing he wasn’t going to leave it be. 

Despite all the memories that she had with the places they saw it didn’t hurt. Even when they passed the spot that Theo had proposed to her at, the pain wasn’t the knife it once was. She kept it from Rafael though, using the water display beyond it to stop and stare. It was also the spot they had both been at before they ever met, both on a school field trip, their classes on either side of the water display. She had no memory of ever seeing Theo but he had somehow clung to the image of her face in his subconscious enough to friend her online a month later, or so he claimed each time he brought it up.

As loose as she felt while there dissipated as the two drove from her house to her grandparents’ house. She let Raf drive not trusting her mind to be focused on the windy canyon road there, her nerves getting the better of her. No one was mad at her, many were excited to see her, see her happy and coming to a place of normal. The person they remembered her being. Cat just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was an act and that she was tricking them somehow or they were all saying that now but the minute they heard of the new family she started to build in Montana they would turn on her. 

Her hand clung to Raf’s tightly as they walked up to the front door, conversation heard from the back of the house on the patio. Cat knocked on the door waiting to be let in, despite her sister Maya telling her to just walk in once she got there. It was Jaxson that answered the door, his blonde hair longer and falling into his blue eyes that lit up as a smile spread across his face. He quickly embraced her in a tight hug, Raf letting go of her hand taking a small step back, “God it’s so nice to see you again,” he pulled away leading her inside, “Everyone’s here you know. It kind of turned into a welcome party.” Hearing Raf close the door had Jax’s blue eyes land on him, the two men assessing the other, before Jax held his hand out, “You must be the one everyone can’t stop whispering about. I’m Jax.”

Raf shook his hand smiling, “Rafael,” his brown eyes landing on Cat, “You hear that Conejito, they’re already talking about me.” She gave a small laugh as Jax led the two of them outside, everyone making it easy for her to greet them as they seemed to make a line in front of her, Raf soon pushed to the side. Person after person approached Catlina wanting to talk with her or never let her go, it was overwhelming and scaring her as her eyes strayed to her sisters and father patiently waiting. 

Raf noticed and tried to pull her away best he could without seeming rude. She stood before the three of them with only a moment passing before Maya took the first step to her. Her arms encircled her older sister, her black hair falling into Cat’s face as she buried her face into her neck. They held each other close tears falling from both of them, Catlina feeling a closeness that could only come from a bond like this. How could I ever have abandoned this, she thought as Maya pulled away wiping the tears from her face. 

“We’ve missed you so much,” Xandie stepped up for her turn at a hug as Maya spoke, “We were starting to think that we would never hear from you again.”

Cat held tightly to her youngest sister, “Started to think the worse happened to you,” Xandie cried into Cat’s hair, “just kept waiting for that call.”

“I’m sorry,” Cat stammered out between the sobs that were starting, pulling Maya back into their group hug, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You’re back now,” Maya said softly stroking Cat’s hair, “That’s what matters more right now. We can work on everything else as time goes on.”

“We just don’t want you to leave us behind again,” Xandie said lightly hitting the back of Cat’s shoulder, “Even if you choose to stay up there, you’re not going to lose contact with us. Any of us.”

Cat nodded, “I promise. I promise. I love you both so much..” The girls heard their father clear his throat behind them, pulling away from each other. She wiped the tears from her face steadying her breathing as she looked to dad, his stocky build still the same with his five foot eight inches height. His black hair had greyed more and more wrinkles formed around his eyes, dark brown like hers as they looked the other up and down before she ran into his arms. “I’m so sorry dad.”

His arms felt safe and sturdy like they always had since she was a child, “Like your sister said, you’re here now.” He kissed the top of her head, his eyes looking up to Raf standing silently to the side, “Who’s he?” 

Cat hummed as she brought her face to meet Raf’s, she pulled away waving him over to her. She took a step back standing next to him, “Dad,” she looked to her sisters who came to stand close to their father, “Maya, Xandie, this is Rafael Estrada. Raf this is Maya, Xandie, and my dad Dominic.” 

Raf quickly had a smile on and his hand out to shake theirs, “Pleasure to meet you all. Cat’s told me a lot about you all.”

“And yet we’ve heard so little of you,” her dad said shaking Raf’s hand.

“It’s the guy she’s been seeing, dad,” Xandie told him, rolling her eyes, “I hope you know I don’t like you very much.” Cat’s eyes went wide, “Don’t give me that look. Until I can prove he’s not some jerk that’s gonna kidnap you again forever, I won’t like him.”

“I’m with her sister on this one,” Dominic said, looking Raf up and down, “Nothing too personal but you got some shoes to fill.”

“Well hopefully I can make my own, I don’t want to be a replacement,” raf said shaking her sisters’ hands, “Could never dream of taking his place.”

Dominic gave a small nod, taking in Raf’s posture, “What branch are you?”

“Excuse me?”

Dominic nodded to how Raf was standing, “Know a military man when I see one. What branch?”

Cat saw Raf stand taller, if it was possible, before answering, “Marines. I’m a pilot,” her dad raised a brow nodding, “Does that win me some points?”

“Just one in dad’s eyes,” Maya interjected.

“One more than I just had,” Raf said laughing.

The two men soon got to talking and Maya was pulling Cat away to the kitchen, “You didn’t send any good pictures that gave his face justice,” she fanned herself the two laughing. “He seems nice enough though. How long have you two been dating?”

Cat looked up to the ceiling doing the math, “I’ve known him for a little over a year and a half, but we started to date about a year ago.”

“He’s the reason you started to talk to us again,” she responded softly. Cat looked at her confused, “If I’m remembering correctly that’s when you started to reach out to us again and it was because of him.”

“Well not just him.”

“But he’s a big reason,” Maya nudged her, seeing the blush starting to run up her neck, “It’s okay if it is. It means I can be madder at him if he breaks your heart.”

“Maya!” The two laughed as they gathered drinks to pass around as the party normalized, Cat making the rounds almost three times with introducing Raf to everyone. The third time was everyone wanting to talk to her trying to catch up in the little time they had, she was glad the two decided to stay a week. She could make smaller gatherings in that time frame, if this party went well she might even brave seeing her mom one more time, one last attempt to have some connection with her.

The conversation quieted as a late guest strode in through the house. Cat recognized the shorter stature and brown hair of her mom before she saw her face. Cat’s heart raced leaning to Maya, “You didn’t tell me she was coming.”

“I didn’t invite her, just told her you would be in town,” she whispered. They looked to Xandie who shook her head. “Wasn’t dad,” her sisters’ eyes narrowed as they landed on Raf a few yards away talking to Jax and his brothers, “Was it him?”

The slight clench in Rafael’s jaw as he realized who just came was enough to know that it wasn’t him, “No. He’d never do that to me.” Cat took a deep breath, walking up to Gina, “What are you doing here?”

“What? Am I not allowed to see my own daughter?” She asked her eyes misting over as she took Catlina in. “I had to come and see you,” she reached a hand up to Cat’s face, Cat leaning back from her grasp.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I missed you. Your sisters weren’t the only ones you cut all contact with when you left,” she argued crossing her arms.

“Except I cut off contact with you two years before I left.”

“I still don’t understand why. You had no reason to do that.”

“I had every reason to. You left me, told me what was happening wasn’t real, that I was making it all up.”

“And I wasn’t wrong,” Gina shook her head, “You had everything growing up, there was no need for you to throw a tantrum like that, you were twenty three it was time for you to grow up.”

“You don’t listen do you?” Cat shook her head, “You never did. I was in pain. I needed comfort and you took it away, withheld it unless I was able to be what you wanted me to be.”

“You never wanted my comfort growing up so I didn’t think you needed or wanted it, if you really were in pain.” She lowered her voice, “Look I’m your mom. I’m far from perfect but you never were able to see that yourself were you?”

“Don’t turn this around. I know you’re not perfect, I was fine with that,” Cat took a breath holding back the lump in her throat forming, “But even imperfect parents and people are willing to change, adapt, and learn from their mistakes.” Cat saw Raf slowly make his way over to her, “I didn’t even expect much from you after that day in the hospital mom. I just wanted an apology for that one mistake. Not for everything else you did just that one mistake and you still couldn’t do that.”

“I did nothing wrong. I was there for you just like you wanted me to be.”

“No! No you weren’t! You couldn’t even tell me that you loved me.”

“I do love you though. You taught me what love was.”

“They why didn’t you tell me that when I needed it most!” Her tears were welling up in her eyes, “It’s like you decided to just give up on me. Made me feel like I was worthless, could easily be tossed aside. Only worthy of any kind of affection from you if I could put on a damn mask. Newsflash! I’m your daughter and you should love me for all of me. Not just what you pick and choose from.”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” Gina’s eyes narrowed, “I’m still your mother.”

“Not until you start acting like one! I’m tired of playing these games with you! You’re never going to change and until you start showing some kind of real progress of that I’m never going to call you mom.” 

The pain was sharp on her cheek, needles following as Cat looked back up to Gina’s eyes, “And I deserve a more respectful daughter.” 

Raf’s body behind hers was a comfort as she brought her hand up to her cheek, “I think it’s time for you to leave,” he said coolly.

Gina’s eyes flicked up to Raf then back down to Cat. “I guess this is for the best then that I’ll never respect you. We both get what we want that way,” Cat’s voice was low, her heart no longer racing, “Have a nice life Gina.”

Gina’s face was stone as she looked to Raf, “I hope you know you’ll never be good enough. No matter what you do, you’ll always be a failure in her eyes. Better to get gone while you can,” she gave one last look to Cat, eyes cold, hands in fists at her side, “It was Theo’s downfall, why is he going to end up any different.”

“Mom it’s time to go,” Maya pushed, escorting Gina out of the house, the other guests silent as they made a path. 

Cat let out a shaky breath once she heard the car leave, Raf moving in front to face, “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said, putting his arms around her leading her inside to one of the empty bedrooms. Cat felt the sobs wracked her body as soon as the door shut, falling to her knees trying to catch her breath. He sat on the floor trying to move her into his lap, settling for rubbing her back and stroking her hair when she refused, whispering words of comfort to her as the tears flowed freely. 

The more she cried the lighter she felt. Different from the many times she had cried over her mom and losing her, there was always something heavy to be felt afterwards, not this time. She was free. Finally free of her, she didn’t have to carry her with her anymore, Cat could finally leave her behind. There was no leaving behind the scars that were made but now there was no risk to the stitches being reopened, she could heal and leave them be. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but as the crying slowed, Cat moved to sit in his lap resting her head against his chest, “Do we need to leave early,” he asked softly, his arms cradling her. 

She shook her head, “No,” Cat looked up to him, “I’m free, my love. I just need a moment before we go back.” She felt him kiss the top of her head, “I’m sorry for what she said,” she leaned up to kiss him, “You know it’s not true right. I never have or ever will see you as a failure.”

“I know,” he wiped the last stray tears away, “What’s one woman’s, that I had never met before now, opinion worth when she can’t even appreciate the person that you are.” Cat returned his soft smile, letting herself snuggle up to him as she felt the wave of emotions pass. Once they did she cleaned up and they both returned to the party that seemed to be back to normal after the scene that was made, Cat and Raf finally able to fully enjoy the reunion until the late hours of the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You sure you want me to stay here,” Raf asked as Cat looked out the passenger window to the top of the hill littered with gravestones. Some new ones had been placed since she last visited, and she recognized the older gentleman walking up the hill with a bouquet of mission bell poppies in his hand. They were his wife’s favorite flowers, he brought them almost daily when they bloomed at their house, mixing two red roses on their anniversary, because that was the color of the sash that she wore with her dress. “Cat?”

She didn’t look back to Raf, “I need to do this part on my own. I’ll be okay.” Raf let out a breath nodding as she stepped out of the car, drawstring backpack in hand. Cat made her way up the hill careful of stepping on the graves, her hands shaking as she moved closer and closer to his gravestone at the top. Her graveyard buddy was already there, setting the flowers down, as she reached into her bag, “I was hoping to see you Ed.”

His jade green eyes lit up as they landed on her, “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Did you make it to the small town like you wanted?” 

“I did,” she handed over the box of lemon cookies, “Met someone that helped me perfect your wife’s recipe that you gave me.” 

He opened the box pulling out a cookie, his smile getting bigger as he chewed, turning to the gravestone, “You seeing this Joanie, your cookies are going to live on.” He gave a small laugh, “No they aren’t an exact replica but they’re damn close,” he shook his head facing Cat again, “We were never able to figure out that one step she did to make them but I’m glad you came really close to it,” he gave her a hug, “Thank you.”

“I’ll send some down to you as often as I can.”

“I’d like that,” he nodded to Theo’s gravestone, “I think he’s missed you,” Cat looked over seeing small flowers growing along the edges of the stone, “Started growin’ the little bluebells a couple months after you left.” 

Cat took a breath waving goodbye to the man moving to sit in front of the stone, the backpack sitting in her lap. “Hey Theo,” she started reaching into the bag, “Happy anniversary,” Cat pulled out a picture frame along with a game case. “Sorry I’ve been gone for so long. I just needed some time to figure out what the next step was,” she gave a sheepish smile, “Don’t think I didn’t think about you or didn’t miss you while I was away.” Cat twisted a finger around a long piece of grass, “I’ve missed you since you left for work that morning. I was,” Cat’s voice caught, “I was so excited for you to come home that night three years ago. I just couldn’t believe we had been married for two years already, that our life had started and was going to just get better.” Cat held up the game case, “Look, I even still have your present, er, well sort of. I think Jax snuck into the house and borrowed it, but I don’t think you would have minded that.” She placed the game against the stone, letting her shoulder slump.

“Theo, you know that there’s no way I could ever really stop loving you. You’re always going to be in my heart,” Cat looked down the hill to the parked car Raf sat in, reading the book he borrowed from the house, “but I found the next step, my love. I know where to go now.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked back, “I feel like you had my car break down in Hope County on purpose, knew where I needed to be, I’m sure you were tired of seeing me so sad all the time. Is that why you sent all the people you have to me?” Cat pulled out a smaller frame holding two pictures, “It was you that led me to meeting Wes, Wren, Rowan, Randy, Jane, Mel, Whitney, Chance, and Raf. If it wasn’t then you better strike me down with a gust of wind, if it’s a breeze I’ll take it as a yes.” Cat saw the dried petals move before she felt the small breeze, smiling and feeling the few tears she had roll down her cheeks, “I knew it. You always knew how to best take care of me.” 

She sniffled, “You know I want to tell you about them but I have one other thing that’s really important,” Cat waited for the small breeze to pass through before continuing, “See there’s this guy, Rafael, and we started dating about a year ago, which maybe you know already, I don’t really know how the afterlife works,” she let out a small laugh shrugging. “Anyway, I think we’re getting to a point of wanting to move forward and I want to, with him, I love him. I just can’t until I know you’ll be okay with it, that you don’t feel like I betrayed you, because I love you too. I will always love you.” Cat looked down to the ground watching as the tears landed on the grass below her, “You’re gone though so I need to finally let you go. So can you give me some sign right here that you understand that?” 

Cat looked around silently for anything that seemed out of the ordinary, letting out a sigh slumping her shoulders, “It’s not-,” she started before her eyes landed on a small bunny that was making its way to her. Cat watched as the small breeze scared it so they hid behind the game case, toppling over once it’s little nose stuck out from the other side. Cat laughed wiping the tears away, “You could have also just sent a breeze but thanks for the clarity of your answer.” She propped the case back up, “I’m not just gonna let Raf push you down like that though I hope you know.” Cat took the bigger frame, a copy of their first kiss at their wedding in it, and placed it next to the case. She looked to the other frame, the two photos were group ones. One was of her and Theo with their group of friends, while the other was of Cat and the little family she started to make back in Montana, “These are for you too. So you don’t forget and so you can put faces to names as you and I catch up. We have,” she looked to the time on her phone. It read two thirty in the afternoon, “Exactly three years to catch up on. You know I still remember all the stuff I wanted to talk to you about during our anniversary dinner.”

Cat sat for two hours talking to the gravestone reminiscing and explaining all that she had done, the good, the bad, and the funny. Sitting there talking to her late husband she felt content with the knowledge that after all this time she was going to let go. He’d never leave her heart, his memory will always be tinged with pain and despair, and this day was always going to be one she could never get over, but now she was going to carry him with the same weight as his wedding ring on her wrist. It was just as Ed had told her when he found her crying a few days after the funeral, and he was right, it was enough to carry them lightly, so long as they were never forgotten. 

She had a smile on her face as she slid back into the car, Raf looking her over, “I’m fine, mi amor,” her eyes met his, “I’m really okay. I’m ready to move on.” She kissed Rafael deeply, “It’s time to move forward. I’m ready.”

#x: top chefs #sorry I am bad at moving from scenes sometimes but yeah #angst monday everyone

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter 10

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language

Summary: Back on set, Chris struggles to take his mind of things...

Chapter Ten

It had rained non-stop since Chris arrived back in Georgia which was rather befitting for his mood. The unexpected thunder and lightning had delayed some planned outdoor shots from that morning, with weather reports suggesting more was to come over the weekend. Chris was starting to wonder if he’d ever see Boston again.

“I could come and visit if you want? Keep you company?” Scott offered, downing the last of his glass containing whatever he managed to find in Chris’ liquor cabinet. He would have grabbed the next flight to Atlanta if Chris had asked him to. It was just the habit of him now to offer to do so wherever he was filming in the world.

“Nah, it’s OK. I told my Agent to tell them I had a family thing coming up so they know I can’t stay here for long.”

They had been on a video call for the past couple of hours, though not constantly talking. Scott had taken another call from a friend and Chris had been treated to a star-struck pizza delivery guy on his doorstop, but this was a nice comfort for them both. Chris was lounging around his cosy apartment in sweats and toyed with the idea of visiting the building’s gym to relieve come tension; tension that had built up in him since he inadvertently found himself face to face to Jenny 24 hours previous. Among the small production crowd that had gathered on location yesterday evening, they’d exchange brief pleasantries with him successfully dodging a hug she had initiated. Matt kept a keen eye on the media and thankfully nothing of note was registering online other than typical minor fan gossip but he could live with that. He resolved to keep his head down, get the shots in the can, and get out of there as fast as he could.

“Do you think we should look at getting that place booked again?” Scott asked, absent-mindedly scrolling through something on his phone.

“Huh? What place?”

“That cabin we stayed at in Vermont last year. That one looking over the lake? I literally just mentioned it to you. Have you not been listening to me? Mom wants to go again for her birthday.”

“Sorry, I was thinking about something else. Yeh, sure. I think I have the email of the owner somewhere. I’ll dig it out and we can take a look. Why that place?”

“It was nice and she liked having that separate guest house for Carly and the kids. It had that huge veranda with the barbecue pit. Wasn’t that where Shan thought she saw a snake?” Scott laugh at the sudden memory that had come rushing back to his mind, and Chris nearly spat out his drink.

“Oh yeh, now I remember. She freaked and wouldn’t come outside again!” he was laughing louder now and fell back on to his couch. “Jeez. We definitely have to go back now if only for that. She’ll have it.”

“We should probably not say that to Mom, though. Maybe stick to the script on this one.” Scott laughed again. “So, you coping OK?”

Chris shrugged indifferently as if he didn’t know what Scott was hinting at. It was uncomfortably humid and he was fighting off a carb come from his pizza; he really didn’t want to to get into anything too deep at this point in the day.

“Come on, don’t give me that. You’ve been a bag of anxiety for the past few weeks. I take it she’s texting you still?”

“Not really, just the usual stuff. I can handle it.”

“Just make sure you’re careful while you’re there, alright? That divorce looks nasty and you don’t wanna get wrapped up in it any more than you already are. Don’t give her any more rope to tie you with.”

“Have you been talking to Matt about me?!” Chris asked, suddenly feeling affronted. “Cos I know what I’m doing, OK? I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Only in passing. we buy the same gym clothes. And I’m not saying you’re an idiot. You just have a habit lately of thinking with something else outside of your brain.” Scott pushed back. He was leaning into his iPad a little more as if to ensure his words were getting through to Chris, now sitting a thousand miles away. 

“Not all of my decisions are bad ones.” Chris shook his head in objection and he may well have believed it had he not also been keenly aware that, deep down, he’d been feeling like he was veering away from the straight and narrow of late and if Scott was picking up on it, then it was definitely a cause for concern. But there was a time and a place to assess his life choices and this was not it.

“You’ve been really, really distracted lately. Mom’s noticed it as well. Is it just this film or is there something else you’re not telling me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine! I’ve got, what, four more days here and then I’m back home for the rest of the year. You can life coach me then. Honestly, I’m good. You don’t need to worry.”

Scott returned the frown and continued scrolling through his phone. Things were a bit messed up these days, Chris couldn’t exactly deny it. He didn’t know whether he was coming or going, with filming, his career, and wanting to leave LA. behind on a more permanent basis. He wasn’t getting any younger. Work aside, Jenny hadn’t particularly factored into his thoughts as much as his brother and others had assumed she had but he couldn’t very well admit to that given the alternative. In some ways, what had been happening with Sarah had very much been an indicator of what was missing from his life and what he desperately wanted to focus on. As much as they have both promised they would keep things civil and normal, there was something of a distance growing between them now, an ability to talk openly and honestly. If it hadn’t been for him lazing around their apartment the last few days before he flew out of town, he probably wouldn’t have talked to her or even seen her again. She hadn’t responded to a group WhatsApp joke he sent the other day, and she hadn’t responded again after he forwarded a cute picture of a labrador wearing medical scrubs. If there was one thing that always guaranteed you a response, it was dogs dressed as humans. He tried to put her in the back of his mind and focus on getting the film finished.

“We should put you and Sarah in a room together. Might get you both back to normal.” Scott may have intended his comment to be offhanded as he looked down at his phone again but Chris found himself keen to explore what he meant.

“What’s going on? Has she said something?”

“I was hoping you;’d know more to be honest. You practically live with them now.” Scott insinuated. “Mom says she’s been working loads and when she’s not working, she’s sleeping. That stuff with Charlotte’s really messed her up, I guess.”

He felt guilty hearing this. He hovered over her name and contemplated sending her a casual text but what could he say that didn’t sound as fraught as he was feeling? He could be funny and check Shanna hadn’t killed her. Maybe he could fake some emergency? OK, now you’re just being ridiculous, Chris thought to himself. And desperate. But sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures...

Chris 18.02pm: This feels weird

He chucked his phone to his side hoping he would stop thinking about it if he paid it no attention. He got up to get another beer from his fridge and spied the pre-made protein shakes that had been waiting for him upon his arrival. He knew he should be in the gym. He knew he shouldn’t have eaten a full pizza when he was supposed to be maintaining his training plan so he would feasibly look the same as before production wrapped the first time. As he rubbed his hand over his softer stomach he found it increasingly hard to care. He could figure that out another time.

As he stared into the abyss, he heard his phone vibrate on his couch. Against his better judgement he could feel a fluttering start in his stomach and he prayed to whomever was listening that he could just, for once, catch a fucking break.

Sarah 18.14pm: I know. I’m sorry. There’s a lot going on right now

He could picture her typing and deleting messages over and over again like she always did, chronically unsure of herself, and figured he should probably give her a break also.

Chris 18.17pm: I understand. Just miss talking to you. Scott’s not as friendly and he doesn’t laugh at my jokes

Sarah 18.18pm: :)

OK, an emoji. That’s a good start, he would take that.

Chris 18.21pm: how’s work?

Sarah 18.24pm: Busy but good. Today I removed a dice from a kids nose

Chris burst out laughing, leaning back onto his couch. They enjoyed listening to Sarah recount her days and the fairly bizarre stuff she ended up being witness to. He enjoyed himself even more watching his mother recoil in horror and fleeing the room when she was being particularly graphic.

“Woah! What is it? What’s going on?” Scott shouted through the screen, first in shock and then confusion. He’d forgotten Scott was even there. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh it’s...nothing. Shouldn’t you be heading to dinner?”

“Oh fuck, yeh. Don’t wanna give him another reason to be pissed off with me. I’ll catch you later, yeh?”

“Don’t worry about it. If I don’t hear from you again, I’ll assume you lovebirds have kissed and made up.”

Scott huffed. “Fat chance.”

A quick click and he was gone leaving Chris smiling at his phone like an idiot. He wondered if she could tell her was happy to finally hear from her, that they were joking, that a smiling emoji had been enough to lift the funk he was currently in.

Chris 18.33pm: I’m so jealous of you right now...

Sarah 18.36pm: Ha! Georgia can’t be that bad

Chris 18.37pm: I’d much rather be there

That wasn’t even half the story.

Four Days Earlier

He shouldn’t have been looking at her curled up on the couch. He shouldn’t have been focussing on the subtle way her throat moved when she swallowed a spoonful of mint choc chip from the bowl placed precariously in her lap, or the way her eyes crinkled when she chuckled at something funny in the film. Or her toes curling and then uncurling from inside her stripy red socks. What even were they watching again? Oh, The Other Guys. Shanna had chosen it and he’d been stuck ever since he’d arrived at theirs, beer in hand, hopeful for some last-minute fun before he had to return to Savannah.

Sarah leaned down the side of the couch to grab her bottle from off the floor and he blinked away as she took a long drink. He excused himself and got up from the couch. The kitchen windows were wide open and he breathed the fresh air in. This was getting ridiculous. His sister was a mere three feet away from him for fuck’s sake.

“What’s up with you?” Shan asked. She had followed him in without him realising, grabbing some more ice cream from their freezer. “If you’re bored, go out. I’m sure there’s people who’d love to entertain you for the night.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not bored. I’m just stretching my legs is all. It’s not against the law, is it?” he practically spat back at her. He regretted it when he saw her stunned expression. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but can you please sort it out before you’re back? I really don’t need Mom bothering me every hour asking me what you’re up to while you’re here. It’s getting ridiculous.” She turned and left the kitchen, the full tub in hand, unwilling to allow the mood he was clearly in to mess up her evening of doing nothing.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here tonight. Shanna was probably right. He should have tried distracting himself with something, or someone, else only now he didn’t much feel like going out. He wasn’t dressed right, his phone only had 5% battery, and he was bored of the local bars which surprised even himself.

“Are you OK?” Sarah asked quietly, unsure of whether he’d heard her at first until he looked up from where he was sat at the table. She placed her bowl on the side of the sink and he allowed himself a brief moment of respite in thinking he decided so come just so she could check up on him.

“Yeh. Sorry for disturbing your evening.” He gave her his best sheepish smile.

Sarah brushed him off, “Don’t worry about it but if you want any ice cream, you should get some fast before Shan finished it off.”

“I think she might stab me with her spoon if I tried that.” He wasn’t kidding.

“I keep forgetting to mention this to you but I still have that dress, um, if you need to give it back to Matt or someone? Shan said she was going to keep hers but I wasn’t sure what to do about it.”

She was nervously playing with her hands and for a split second, he saw her with softly curly hair and the jewellery she wore with it on the night. That night. That night that had fucked him up in more ways than one. He could pinpoint his recent mood shift back to that night at the party, dealing with his drunken friends and the photographs that kept cropping up on the internet even now, so long afterwards, with people carefully dissecting every inch of his place that was on show, trying to work out if he was with someone. It wasn’t Jenny or the thought of being back on that set that was concerning to him but rather that the only time he’d felt happy and alive in recent weeks was when he was existing in the same room as his sister’s best friend. Sarah was somewhat calming to him. She had shit to deal with and so did he but he didn’t have to hide it in the same way he did with his family. And now, as she stood in front of him in her two-sizes-too-big hoodie and sweatpants, he wanted nothing more than to throw himself at her and let her hold him for a minute.

“You should keep it.” He nodded gently at her after what was undoubtedly too long a pause. “It looks good on you.”

“Oooh you should wear it on your date with Greg!” Shanna announced, making her presence known as she reached up for the chocolate sauce from the top of the fridge.

“It’s not a date!” Sarah denied as quickly as Shanna had opened her mouth. If Chris had been trying to hide the flash of unease that just moved across his face, he’d failed entirely. She turned back to the Chris. “It’s just a work thing.”

Shanna’s eyebrows looked like they were about to leave her forehead in surprise. “It is definitely a date and if you wear that dress, he’ll be all over you.”

Present day...

Shanna had a knack for creating awkward moments. If Chris had focussed hard enough, he could have grabbed the sauce bottle out of her hand and thrown it at the back of her head with unnerving accuracy. Except it wouldn’t have made him feel any better from the needling feeling he was getting in his stomach, it wouldn’t have served any purpose whatsoever. It certainly wouldn’t have stopped Sarah from practically blanking him for the rest of the evening.

He knew it wasn’t a date no matter how hard Shanna had been insinuating it was. According to Lisa, the UAPD was throwing a networking event of sorts to introduce doctors in the North East to medical Reps and unionists from across the country. The website he’d looked at made it seem akin to some kind of political rally that he used to attend alongside his Uncle, filled with men and women in smart but unremarkable suits holding clipboards and throwing their contact details around like candy. It appeared, by many accounts, to be a relatively full affair. He was surprised she had agreed to go. He’d never much figured her for a “company-man”.

Chris 19.35pm: Enjoy your night. Don’t speak to any strange men.

She was probably being bored to death by one as he spoke. He hoped she’d see his message and smile and be relieved that she had the option of someone else to entertain her during the long speeches if she had wanted but after a few hours of nothing he gave up hoping and resigned himself to a long night’s rest. This was probably for the best. He was tired and had a long day ahead of him if they had any chance of catching up on the missed scenes from today, and he’d be damned if he was staying here beyond Monday night.

He enjoyed a long, long shower and brushed his teeth before climbing into bed with his iPad to read over the new sides for tomorrow’s shoot in the park.

Sarah 11.38pm: Nope starange men. Just me lol

Chris 11.44pm: Wow....are you drunk??!!

Bless her. He could imagine her and Audrey giving up the speeches and making the most of the free bar. He’ll have to make sure to invite Audrey to his next gathering.

Sarah 11.48pm: On a school night. Sssssshhhhh

Chris 11.49pm: Shame behaviour, Ms Bernette

Sarah 11.54pm: As if your’e not doing the same

Chris 11.56pm: I’ll have you know I am tucked up in bed like a good boy

Sarah 11.58pm: Thats disappppointing Christopher

He couldn’t explain the thrill he got from her using his full name. He couldn’t recall her ever using it in the years she’s known him.

Chris 12.03am: I’ll have to make up for it when I’m home ;)

Sarah 12.08am: Can’t wait to seee that. I like drunk Christopher

Drunk Christopher was a fucking idiot, he thought, and she was one of a few people who knew that better than anyone. Drunk Christopher was someone who made risky decisions and initiated impromptu dance competitions against people who would wipe the floor with him. He was someone who pulled out his cap shield without anyone having to ask, and enjoyed drinks he could set fire to. What was his excuse for being an idiot here and now? He certainly wasn’t drunk, not even remotely so, but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel slightly light-headed at the thought of Sarah wanting his attention.

Chris 12.12am: Are you wearing the dress?

Three dots quickly appeared then disappeared. A few minutes passed and he saw them again, transfixed by what might have been going through her mind, what was she wanting to say to him then thinking better of?

Sarah 12.21am: Not anymore

Fuck. He knew what he wanted to say back; he’d been at this rodeo many times before. He’d even typed out and stared at his screen before deciding against sending it. She was drunk and clearly not thinking straight, and he didn’t want her to see messages she would come to regret in the morning and push her further away from him. It wasn’t right of him to corner her, not like this. If this was something they were going to explore, they’d need to be face to face and not three sheets to the wind.

It was going to be a long week.

*

#chris evans #chris fic #evans fic #chris evans x original female character #clear the area #fan fiction #sarah bernette

[gwaciechang]

Love Run (9/15)

“And as the world comes to an end I’ll be here to hold your hand ‘Cause you’re my king and I’m your lionheart.”

This chapter is written entirely from Bobby’s POV and will contain no fluff whatsoever. Spoilers for the episode “Run Rabbit Run” of Stan Lee’s Lucky Man are all over this part. I’ve also tried my best to be inclusive by avoiding Robin’s name, and by using gender neutral pronouns whenever possible, which might not be the pronouns you use. I’ve also changed Chloe’s name to Maisie because “Chloe Choi” looks super weird to me when it’s written out. There is also a near-relapse for Bobby, as well as references to a stabbing murder, implications of prostitution, mention of human trafficking, and implications of dismemberment.

@wackiekebab @sunflowergrlpwr @danilanidingdong @scratching-wingless-thing @farewellfelidae @whatevermonkey @the-winter-witcher  

Bobby jerked up at the sound of the gunshot, heart almost ready to pound out of his chest. He strained his ears, but he couldn’t hear anyone over the screaming of other people who also heard the gunshot. It took one count of six off the bed, two counts of six to the door, three counts of six down the stairs, and four counts of six to the tire tracks and glitter on the ground. It took nine counts of ten before he could kneel down and pick up the pieces of Robin’s phone.

One, two, three, four-wait. He looked at the pieces in his hand. Except for the glass screen, they were all whole. Phones don’t shatter like that, he thought, breaking into their individual components. Someone specifically designed this phone to break in a way that, if he could put all the pieces back together, would be returned to perfect working order. He spent nearly three hundred counts looking for the pieces before going back inside.

The world fell away, silent, as he worked. By the time the sun came up, he realized he didn’t have the SD card. But he couldn’t possibly have missed it, he’d practically combed the ground. Just as he was about to go back outside and look for it again, the phone rang.

Without the memory card of stored contacts, the screen just showed the number, so he had no idea who he was answering. “Hello?”

“Robert Hayes, where the fuck is my youngest sibling?”

His throat closed up at the idea of talking to a lady he’d never met. But Maisie had agreed to store hard drugs, to lend her car to take him to a methadone clinic, and most importantly, had previously gone to extraordinary lengths to find the person he was looking for, too. “Someone with a gun took them. I didn’t see who, I just heard the gunshot, and there are tire tracks next to where I found the pieces of their phone. I didn’t find any blood,” He could feel bruises forming on his arms from how hard he was tapping.

Someone typed frantically on the other side of the line. “Turn your computer on.”

“W-what?” he had been expecting her to scream abuse at him, to which he would respond with endless apologies.

Maisie hissed something under her breath before saying, “You put the phone together, so you’re clearly very good at technology. You looked for blood on the ground, so you care about Robin’s wellbeing. Now, go to your lab or office or whatever, and turn your computer on. I’ve just emailed you a map of the area with convenience stores and banks highlighted, since they’re the most likely to have working security cameras. I already logged the kidnapping with the MET and I’m in the process of registering myself as lead investigator, so I need you to make a detective inspector’s ID for me. You can pull any picture of me within the year.”

“How did you-”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, have the footage loaded and ready.”

Having clear instructions helped immensely. He knew how to hack into cameras, he knew how to analyze security camera footage, and he knew how to make fake identification cards. He would be able to help Maisie find Robin, because the alternative was unacceptable. 99% of kidnappings ended in death within 24 hours, and the clock was ticking.

The camera from the front gate ran out of battery in the middle of his download.

The footage from the bank was useless, due to a large food truck passing in front of the camera.

The footage from the first convenience store was useless because of the same food truck. The camera from second convenience store was knocked into a different angle before he could see anything useful. When he got to the footage from the third store and discovered some sort of interference distorting it, he stood up to go to Maisie’s car for his emergency stash.

“Robert, I’m coming in,” Maisie called as she unlocked the door. Bobby felt angry for a second before relief flooded his system. She’d probably saved his life, and Robin’s, by extension.

Bobby checked the time. “You’re late,” he said. “You said twenty minutes, that was more than forty minutes ago. Do you not care?”

“I had to see a friend,” she said cryptically. “You have the footage?”

“Yes, and I’ve isolated the time frame we need, but they’re all obscured.” He’s tapping and counting, everything smelled like blood, any second Pearl was going to ask what was wrong with him, and once she knew she wouldn’t allow him to help her look for Robin, and he couldn’t-

“What do you mean, obscured?” Maisie motioned for him to sit down next to her without making a single move to touch him.

“There’s always something blocking it, or moving the camera. Here, some bird knocked into the camera. Here, there’s interference from a different device. Here, here, and here, there’s a food truck!” his voice echoed off the wall. Oh god, he’d been shouting.

“Show me the last one with the delivery truck,” Maisie spoke like he hadn’t said anything. “Aaaaaand pause, look,” she pointed to the reflection of the cars on the other side of the food truck from the store across the street. “Screenshot all those license plates.”

Bobby just stared at her for a few seconds. Was this what it felt like to have a reasonable voice in one’s head, instead of a voice that screamed out for heroin?

“Now, please,” she didn’t raise her voice, but it echoed through his head all the same, and he could only obey. It only took a few seconds, which he felt a little bit proud of. “Do you have a way of finding out who drives each of those vehicles from here?” she asked once he was done.

“I can find out from here,” he was already running the program when he spoke.

“I need to make a call. And don’t bother trying to take your heroin while I’m gone, I already went into my car and put it where you’ll never find it. Well, probably,” Maisie took out her phone and pressed a single key. “Laurie? It’s Maisie Choi. I need you to listen carefully.”

The rest of the conversation was too muffled to hear, but Bobby didn’t care, because he had a list of several names. He pulled out his phone and dialed the nice detective.

“Is everything alright, son?”

“Robin’s been kidnapped. There was a gunshot, but I don’t think it hit them. I’ve got their sister here, and we’re looking together. I’ve used the license plate to match owners with cars that drove near the apartment complex.” He left out the bit about the detective’s badge, he didn’t think Harry would approve of it as much.

“Who’s on your list?”

“Um, Alice North, Daniel Simon, Pierre Aladin, Connor Anderson-”

“Go back, what was that last one? Before Connor?”

“Pierre Aladin.”

“Send me that list, and don’t do anything until I get there.”

“Toss that idea right in the trash, Det. Clayton,” Maisie suddenly took the phone from Bobby. “We don’t have time to wait for you to meet with Elsa and then come here. We’ll go to you.”

“Who are you?” Harry demanded.

“I’m looking for a bracelet to match my hairpin,” Maisie said before twisting her necklace.

Bobby’s call cut out.

“Laurie hasn’t heard from Pierre for a few hours, ever since somebody broke into their apartment this morning. Interesting, huh?” Maisie smiled knowingly.

“You have a signal jammer in your necklace.” Bobby’s eyes flicked up to the pink butterfly on her hair. “Is your hairpin another signal jammer?”

“No,” she took it off so Bobby could see the USB drive under the center pearl. “There’s a tracker on Robin’s phone, attached to-”

“To the SD card,” Bobby made to snatch the hairpin out of her hand, but she moved her wrist at the last second and stuck the drive into the computer herself, and she kept her hand on it the whole time. “Why didn’t you say you could just find them?”

“I needed to know who took Robin in order to know how to move forward, and I need a way to keep you busy, so you didn’t overdose in my car,” her voice was ice-cold.

“I wouldn’t, not when,” his throat closed up before he could finish. He almost had. “How did you know Pierre Aladin was involved?” he asked instead.

“I’ve cleaned up enough of his hits that I know what kind of car he drives,” she said absently, focusing on the shrinking dot on the screen until it pinged an exact location. “Give me a plastic bag for this,” she said, producing a bloody cleaver out of nowhere. “They’re in the cabinets under the counter, to the right of the sink. And if there’s any liquid left in the green bottle with the words you can’t read, pour it out so Robin needs to go out and get better wine. Wow, this is a very good badge,” she pocketed the fake ID he made. “Come on, chop chop,” she clapped as best she could while one hand was wrapped around a giant knife when she noticed he was staring.

He decided not to ask about the knife and just do what she said.

“Thanks,” she said, now with her hair tied back and two pink pearls dangling from her ears. “Let’s go,” she motioned with a hand holding a piece of folded paper.

Rather than walk toward where her car was parked, Maisie went to where several men had just finished loading the garbage truck and hopped in the back. She cleared a space for him and motioned for him to sit down, something he wouldn’t have done if he hadn’t essentially spent the last two days covered in various bodily fluids of his own and Robin’s.

“Why are we taking the garbage truck?” Bobby asked as he settled in.

“Because we need to pick up your friend,” Maisie responded cryptically. She didn’t say another word, preferring to twist her earrings.

“We’re wasting time!” Bobby finally exploded. He was getting itchy. “They could be doing anything to Robin!”

“They’re not,” she closed her eyes and gestured to her earrings.

Bobby stared at her until he understood. “You can hear them.”

Maisie hummed her assent and closed her eyes as a man fell somewhere behind Bobby. “We picked up your friend,” she said by way of explanation. “Please don’t interfere,” she said. “I’m trying to do you several favors.”

Bobby twisted his head to see Harry looking just as bewildered as he felt.

“And what favors are those?” Harry asked warily.

“Sheldon Blake, for one. And the stabbing at The Catalyst is also of interest to you, isn’t it?” Maisie smiled at Harry’s gobsmacked face.

“Do you know everything that happens?” he asked suspiciously.

“This is our stop,” Maisie linked Bobby’s arm with hers and hopped off the truck, steadying him when he almost fell. A flop and a groan a few seconds later let Bobby know that Harry was following them to the building that seemed abandoned, except for a single man in a blue tweed jacket and a surprising amount of makeup at the door.

“Hello,” the man waved cheerfully.

“Hello,” she purred back, nearly draping her body over his. “And who might you be?”

“Dixie,” he answered with an easy grin.

“What a beautiful name!” Maisie stepped back and showed him her badge. “Now, Dixie, would you mind taking me and my friends inside?”

Dixie swallowed. “I-I can’t-”

“You won’t get in trouble,” all the fake seduction fell away, replaced by soft concern. She whispered something in his ear before unfolding the paper she had taken from Robin’s apartment. “Go to this address right here and tell Shelley King that a friend of Laurie’s sent you. He’ll let you in. And then tell him the knife is in Callum Ballimore’s apartment.”

Dixie gave her an odd look, but didn’t leave even when Maisie gestured for him to go. “Miss, I don’t mean to insult you, but do you know what’s in there?” he asked, pointing his thumb to the building behind him.

“A human trafficking operation, right? One that took in two very willful people today as punishment for aiding investigations into Sheldon Blake.”

Harry gasped and stiffened next to Bobby, who felt like he might faint. He’d known Robin had been kidnapped for what he helped Harry with, but hearing it spelled out made him want to shower until he flayed himself.

Wait, two people?

“But here’s what he doesn’t understand: the past catching up to you refers to both your enemies coming to harm you and your friends coming to rescue you. There’s no sadness without joy, too. Now, let Shelley protect you and extend my apologies for making him do this again.”

This time, when Maisie pointed, Dixie ran.

#into the joeyverse #bobby hayes #lucky man fanfiction #joey i am literally begging you not to look through this tag

[georgialouisea]

Don’t Tell My Wife - Part 1

Characters - Reader, Patrick Dempsey, Ellen Pompeo, Justin Chambers, Kevin McKidd, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, Richard Speight Jr.

Warnings - Fluff, drinking, flirting, future affair.  Word count - 2.4k. Summary - You were happy on Grey’s Anatomy, you felt at home there but when a guest role on Supernatural is offered you’d be a fool to say no. When the guest role becomes a more permanent thing, your relationship with your co-star Jensen Ackles develops too, into something it really shouldn’t.

A/N - So ... just a quick heads up characters mentioned not from the cast of supernatural will be the cast  of Grey’s Anatomy, if you don’t watch the show it doesn’t matter at all just see them as ocs unless you’d like to google it’s completely up to you and your reading preference. 

“That won’t work Derek and you know it, it was a stupid idea and you shouldn’t have ever roped me in, if you’ll excuse me, I have to tell a woman her son will not be making it off the table.” Ripping off your scrub cap you turned on your heel walking out of the shot.

Behind you, the rest of the scene played out Patrick acting everything out perfectly.

“Cut!” The director shouted across the small room. “That was perfect! I love working with you two, always means I can go home early.” She smiled at you. “Take ten and we’ll crack on with this afternoon shall we?”

Walking back to your trailer it still hadn’t fully sunk in how lucky you are even after all these years. Acting was hard, getting a break in acting harder however you seemed to be one of the lucky ones. All your previous roles had been at home in England until you made the move to LA. Grey’s Anatomy had been one of your favourite shows for years, so when you got cast as Doctor Lily Grey a long-lost sister of the main character you felt like you’d actually made it somewhere in life.

“Y/N!” Ellen shouted running to catch up to you.

“Yeah?” Spinning around to face her.

“Meeting.”

“Since when do we have a meeting at a quarter to four?”

“Since now.” She shrugged walking back towards set next to you.

“You know you play my sister you’re not actually my sister.”

“Sometimes I feel like I am.” She stopped walking her hand on your back ushering you towards the closed door to one of the operating room setups.

“Why are we here? What’s happened to the conference room?”

“Nothing, just open it and go in.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Laughing you turned to face her.

“Just go on.” Rolling her eyes she gave you a small push.

Opening the door the room was pitch black, stepping in the room the lights flicked on, the whole cast and crew stood in front of you, party poppers went off as everyone shouted “Happy Birthday!”

“Guys!” Smiling at them you were pulled into a group hug.

The afternoon was spent eating snacks and cake with the cast and crew before rushing home to get ready for the surprise meal and drinks Ellen had planned for you.

-

Walking into the restaurant the table was covered in pink and black glitter, matching balloons floated above the table. “Happy Birthday!” Everyone shouted raising their glasses, a glass of champagne handed to you by Patrick Dempsey.

“Happy Birthday darling.” He whispered kissing your cheek. “Enjoy tonight.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Hours ticked by as you ate and drank with your friends, drinking maybe a little too much.

Staggering outside the warm LA air not doing much to warm you up, wrapping your arms around your waist you waited for the stragglers to follow you out.

“Y/N! You left your coat inside.” Justin Chambers walked toward you your leather jacket in hand.

“Thanks, babe.” Taking it from him you struggled to put it on, staggering away from Justin your back collided with something solid.

“Oof.” Someone huffed behind you.

Turning around you finally got your arm in the sleeve. “I’m so sorry.” Pulling your sleeve down, looking up you took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The man smiled down at you.

Your brain finally caught up with your eyes, you’d fallen into the chest of Jensen Ackles. “You’re Dean Winchester, oh God you’re so pretty.”

“You’re Lily Grey, you’re pretty too.”

“I’m so sorry.” Apologising again you tried to sound as sober as you could but couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Y/N.” Justin walked towards you. “You good?”

“Mhm fine.” You watched over Justin’s shoulder as the rest of the group practically fell out of the bar door. “Mr Dean, Jensen, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” He laughed, his hand reaching out grabbing your bicep he steadied you. “Have you had a good night?”

“So fun.”

“Good.” Smiling down at you his eyes crinkled as he let you go.

Kevin McKidd walked towards you plonking a tiara on your head and kissing your cheek.

“Is it your birthday?” Jensen asked. Nodding your eyes shifted to the two men who had stopped next to Jensen. “Y/N, this is Jared and Misha.”

“Hi.” You waved at them despite how close you were to them.

“Y/N! Where’s Y/N?” Ellen called from the main group of drunk tv Doctors.

“She’s here!” Jared called raising a hand giving her a wave.

“Oh my God.” She sighed walking towards you. “I’m sorry.” She took your hand properly looking at the men in front of her. “You’re the guys from Supernatural.”

“Yeah, we are.” Jensen nodded with a smile.

“Y/N, come on!” Kevin called waving you toward him.

Turning you tried to walk towards him, Ellen quickly pulled you back. “Hey, no, you’ll end up coming home at seven am again.”

“Mhm okay.”

“Cabs are here!” Someone from the group called.

“Okay, so we’re going, enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Bye Mr Dean, Castiel and Sammy!” Waving at them Justin wrapped his arm around your waist walking you towards the taxi.

-

With each blink, the pounding in your head intensified. A glass of water sat on your bedside table half drunk with a bottle of aspirin and a note.

‘I’ll explain everything you’re fuzzy on, take a few pills, drink up, I’m on the couch.’

After reading Justin’s drunkenly scrawled note you threw your arm over your eyes trying to block out the light. “Justin?” Calling out your voice cracked.

Your bedroom door opened, Justin walked in 2 cups of coffee in his hands. “How’re you feeling?” He handed you a cup of coffee.

“Like I was hit by a truck.” Sighing you rested back against the pillows.

“Give me a few.” Justin put his coffee cup on the empty bedside table leaving you alone in bed. You listened to him shuffling around in the kitchen. “Here.” He walked back in with a pizza box in his hands.

“Oh thank God!” Grabbing a slice you sat back, Derek, your Dachshund jumped up on your bed staring at you wide-eyed. Taking a picture of your coffee cup on your bed you uploaded it to Instagram, thanking your friends for last night.

“Did you feed him?” Asking him you stroked Derek’s fur as he nuzzled against your side sniffing at the pizza crust in your hand.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Thanks.” Taking another bite of the crust you gave the rest to Derek. “I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“I just do.”

“You seriously slept on the couch?”

“Yeah, I’m in the same state you’re in.” Justin groaned falling back next to you.

“Someone should have cut us off.”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “You were funny though.”

“What?” Why? What did I do?” You sat up looking at him.

“We ran into the guys from Supernatural.”

“What?”

“You walked straight into Jensen Ackles literally, then you had a little chat with him, I think you called him pretty at one point.”

“No-”

“Yep, they didn’t seem to mind though.”

“Oh my God.”

Your phone dinged from your bedside table.

‘Jensen Ackles followed you.’

‘Jensen Ackles liked your photo.’

‘Jensen Ackles commented on your photo ‘Enjoy your pizza, Miss Lily, Y/N and happy birthday.’

“Well, he’s fine with it.”

“Who?” Justin asked gulping a mouthful of coffee.

“Jensen, he just followed me and commented about last night, can I go back to sleep yet?”

“God yes.” Taking the pizza box off the bed he put it on the table next to him. “I already need a nap.”

--

“How’s your head today?” Patrick asked a day later handing you a cup of coffee.

“It’s fine today, yesterday was the killer, there was a lot of coffee and pizza.” Fixing your scrubs you looked back up at him. “You?”

“Fine.”

Your phone rang in your pocket, not looking at the caller ID you answered. “Hello?” Patrick smiled at you taking a few steps away from you, leaving you to talk alone.

“Good morning Y/N, how was your birthday?” Dave your agent asked.

“It was great thanks, how are you?”

“I’m good, so I have some news for you.”

“Which is?”

“You’re wanted.”

“By -”

“Supernatural.”

“What?”

“There’s a guest role, a hunter and you’re perfect for it, honestly you are, they’ve reached out asking if you’d want to play a badass hunter.”

“Do you have the script?”

“Already emailed over to you.” You could hear Dave smirk down the line. “Have a read through and let me know as soon as you can.”

“Will do.”

“Bye.” Dave hung up.

Patrick smiled at you. “What are you so happy about?”

“I may have just got a guest role on Supernatural.”

“You love that show.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How are you going to work on two shows?”

“It’s only a guest role I can juggle it, I haven’t even accepted it yet.”

In the 3 years, you’d worked on Grey’s you’d quickly made friends with everyone, Patrick and Ellen were closest, they were practically your on and off screen parents, always keeping you in check.

-

“Y/N!” Jared shouted you from across the lot as you were halfway through your tour.

“Jared! Hey!” Grinning at him you gave him quick hug.

“Are you filming today?”

“Not today, we’re on a little tour.”

“Want me to take over?” Jared looked at the PA whos name you were yet to learn.

“If that’s okay, I have a load to do.” She pulled out her phone almost running off immediately.

“Lead the way, Padalecki.”

“Sure thing Y/L/N.” Crooking his arm he held it out for you, linking your arm through his he led you around the set.

Hours later you held a cup of coffee in your hands allowing the heat to warm up your hands. “It’s so cold, oh my God, I hate winter.”

“Yeah.” Jared nodded. “It is.”

“I thought you’d be used to the cold being British.” Misha smiled at you.

“Kind of, I think over the years I’ve got used to LA weather.”

“Wait how long have you lived in LA for?” Misha asked Jensen walked toward the 3 of you.

“Hi.” He smiled at you.

“Hi, erm 3 years.” You answered Misha.

“Have you been home a lot?” Jared asked.

“I go back every few months when I can.” You tried to focus on Jared as Jensen sat opposite you. “I actually want to apologise for my state in LA.”

“It was interesting.” Jensen winked at you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stick around here for long enough you’ll see us all in much worse states.” Jensen chuckled his eyes drifting to Jared. “In fact, we can tell you some stories.”

Crawling into bed 4 hours later you were still giggling at the tales the boys had told you, pulling the sheets up checking on your phone you dropped it down onto the bedside table. Falling asleep with a smile on your face you were going to enjoy spending time with this cast, they’d already made you feel at home.

-

“Morgan.” Dean ran across the parking lot as you threw your bag onto the back seat of your car.

“Yes, Winchester?” Turning to face him, you caught a glimpse of Sam disappearing into the motel room.

Dean came to a stop in front of you. “Hey, erm listen, I just wanna say thank you, I know we barged in on your hunt, took it over and in the end you were the one to save our asses.”

“Damn right.” Smirking up at him.

“So I just want to say thank you and if you ever need any help you have my number.” He took a step closer to you, closing the gap.

Smiling up at him your back was pressed up against the side of your car. “I’m sure I can cope.”

“If you need me.” Dean’s fingertips tucked hair behind your ear. “For anything.” He leaned in his lips brushed against yours waiting for you to kiss him or kick his ass.

Your hand ran up his chest, patting it you pushed him away slightly. “If I need you, Winchester, I’ll call.” Your hand moved across his chest grabbing the lapel of his suit jacket pulling him back against you, leaning up you kissed him hard. Pulling away you smiled up at him. “Like I said I’ll call.”

Dean took a step backwards.

“Goodbye Dean Winchester.”

“See ya around Wilson.” Dean grinned at you as he watched you get into your car, roaring your car to life, your eyes roaming his body.

“Need you, call, I got it, Dean.” Slamming the door shut you opened the window.

“Morgan.” Leaning down he rested his forearms on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Dean, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other very soon.” Dean took a step back from your car.

“And cut!” Speight shouted from behind the camera. “That’s a wrap on the amazing Miss Y/L/N!”

Getting out of the car Jensen’s arms wrapped around you. “It’s been great working with you.”

“You too.”

“We’re going for drinks tonight right?” Jared asked, as soon as you were out of Jensen’s arms Jared gave you a bone-crushing hug.

“Hell yeah.” Nodding, Jared let you go. “I have a few people I need to talk to before I leave set, I love you both I’ll see you tonight but I gotta run.”

“You go, we’ll pick you up at seven.” Jensen smiled down at you.

-

Leaving Vancouver was hard, sure you’d been here for a week but the friendships you’d formed were real. Arriving back in LA taking the time you were stuck in traffic to call Dave.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Dave, Hi I -”

“Y/N, I was just about to call you, the guys over on Supernatural loved you and they want to talk about making your role something more permanent.”

“What?”

“Yeah, they adored you, they want to progress her relationship with Dean.”

“Really?”

“Yes, they think there is a real connection and chemistry between Morgan and Dean.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope, they want to explore it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let them know, congratulations.” He hung up quickly, obviously wanting to get the ball rolling.

Finishing your phone call you dropped your phone into your lap slightly in shock, you’d just landed another role on a TV show you’d loved for years, this wasn’t real, this was a dream. Your phone vibrating in your lap.

‘Welcome to the family.’ Jensen’s text lit up on your screen.

Part 2

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[buckitybarnes]

Unbreakable [1]: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Being an asset for Manic, a new threat meant three things: She was always on the run -- always with a new identity. She could trust no one. She was a nobody, and yet an important somebody at the same time. But to Bucky Barnes, she was [Y/N].

For the first time ever, she faces her fear of the past. 

Warnings/Themes: Torture, violence/mild gore, angst, abuse, Winter Soldier appearance, mention of disorders and mental health, very tiny fluff. 

Author’s Note: As someone who almost took her own life two years ago and was forced into therapy, I never would have thought that surviving depression was possible. Today, however, I’ve wrapped-up with outpatient therapy because between the medication and therapy, I’ve learned how to manage myself and take reign over anxiety. Therapy isn’t for everyone, but I’m happy to have even gone through it. Talking to her was the best part of my recovery. I’ve incorporated a bit of my experience through this. It means that much to me.

No Buck in this chapter, but he comes in very soon!

Y/N = Your Name

Last Chapter

Buy me a Ko-fi?

-

“I’m Daniel. I’ll be your personal therapist.”

The room was overwhelmingly cozy. Sitting on a plush loveseat, you gaze around, unfocused on the man in front of you. A brown clock ticks away against the far wall. The trickle of a small, cheesy zen-pond fills the room as you pause in silence.

“For how long?” You mutter, fidgetting nervously with the sleeve of your shirt.

He smiles.

"For however long you need. We'll have hour-long sessions every other day from this point on."

"How much do I have to bribe you with to get me out of here?"

Stiffening at the question, the corner of his mouth twitches downward. He fixes the collar of his striped dress-shirt before clearing his throat.

“More than the paycheck that I receive from Mr.Stark. Top that and I’ll send you off on your merry way.”

“Well. Fuck.” You notice the small twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Still, he remains poised.

He taps his pen against the plain notepad in his hand before looking down at it. "Our goals for therapy: To leave behind that history of yours -- to not bury it, but to move past it. Sound like a plan?"

"That's a very vague plan, Dan."

"I can tell we're gonna get along just fine," he snickers. "So let's start today's session with: How are you feeling?"

“Peachy. Next."

Daniel analyzes your posture, hunched over with your elbows resting on your knees. Instead of correcting you or maintaining his professional composure, he wordlessly sets down his notepad beside the lamp and copies your position.

He's trying to manipulate you, you can just tell. He's switching tactics. He's --

"Overanalyzing Is something we're gonna have to work on," he teases. "Now, since you seem to hate small talk, let's get into it. What was it like before project Manic?"

What a loaded-fucking-question. You bristle at him, ready to fight. But he remains calm in front of you. Patient.

"Surely, you didn't think this would be easy, did you?" he tacks on.

Sitting up straight, you cross your arms tightly over your chest. "I don't remember. I couldn't tell you anything." Every time you tried to remember, your brain would reset. Were you a college student before all of this? Did you even go to school? Nothing can be worse than having no identity. "All I know is that I was a nobody. I don't even know if [Y/N] is my real name."

"You weren't a nobody, I'm sure. There aren't any nobodies in this world. Maybe some people leave tiny footprints, but they always have some sort of impact. Always."

Although you ignore it, he knows that he's gotten to you. His distant exterior breaks and he smiles warmly. "Tell me about the project itself."

“What do you want to know?"

"What would you like to share?"

Another glance at the clock. Another whopping twenty-seven minutes left. You drag a hand over your face tiredly before sighing. Taking a few seconds to collect your own thoughts, you lean back against the chair, making strong eye-contact with the man. Sure, your sharp gaze would scare anyone else, but Daniel probably worked with scarier people. He merely waits.

"The project itself was a rising group of terrorist assholes who brainwashed men and turned them into soldiers. They used the same kind of drugs that MK-Ultra used, only that they were more potent. Manic wanted world domination," you laugh bitterly. "As does everyone else, I guess.” Clasping your clammy hands together, you will away incoming tears. “It was hell there. I rejected their serum four times until they found the right formula. Gave me powers -- regeneration, and used me as a chess-piece."

"Do you remember how old you were?"

Eyebrows knit together, you shake your head. "Everything's so blurry….fourteen? Maybe fifteen?"

-

Everything was goddamn red.

The walls, the floor, the blood on your hands.

Red.

Time and time again, they’ve blindfolded you, stripping you of your sight so that you couldn’t anticipate the torture. When the covers came off, all you see around you is the blaring red lights coloring the whole room. You could probably guess that they think drowning you in red would do something psychologically. They were right.

The color itself, to you, is associated with the thoughts you had about this organization. Rage. Disgust. Confusion.

The other reason why you hated it was simply that red was the only thing you can remember.

Freezing-cold water rushes over you, seeping into your gaping wounds and shocking your system awake. Pressurized and seemingly coming from all directions, you accidentally catch the dirty water in your mouth and choke on it. From the distance, muffled by the waterfall, you can hear a faint chuckle. And then comes the shock. Jumping from your head to your toes are electrical jolts, causing you to convulse against the restraints. If you thought it was unbearable the first time,  you were sure you’d brush death a few times after. The crackle of the electrocution deafens you. You couldn’t hear yourself gargling if you tried. What felt like hours of pain was a mere ten minutes.

And then the blindfold comes off.

And you’re drowned in red.

“What is your name?”

Learning to feign memory-loss, you gasp out a pathetic ‘I don’t know.’

They’re smarter, though. You know they don’t buy it.

Bright blue blinds you for a second, as a screen in front of you turns on. An image is projected of your dearest friend in a similar situation. Although she technically has it better (sliced instead of slowly fried), she’s unused to it all. She lets out a blood-curdling scream when a knife presses into the back of her hand.

“What’s her name? I promise I’ll let her go if you be honest with me.”

“Ruth. It’s Ruth.”

The man, who you heard from behind, finally pulls forward in front of you. He’s on a swivel chair, looking relaxed and even excited about you being here. “That’s funny because this folder says otherwise. Wanna try again?” Her screams grow louder, more desperate, and she’s resorted to begging for mercy. Although the scientist covers your view of the screen, you know that they’ve done something by the sound of a crunch.

“G-Genevive,” you cry. “Please let her go. Please. Please.”

His smile turns into an alarming smirk. “I’m a man of my word.” He moves over to the side, allowing you to observe as they untie her. “See? Freedom.”

3 hesitant and slow steps from her and a sudden gunshot rings through the air.

You want to throw up.

Want to take her place.

The man ignores your heavy sobs before he nods his head toward a soldier to your right. “She’s still attached.” He stands from his seat and moves back behind you. The whirring of the machine comes back on and your view is obstructed once again by a blindfold.

Something plastic is shoved into your mouth, keeping it open, and suddenly, a bitter, burning liquid is forced inside. You try to cough it up but it merely rushes back in until you’re choking on it. Trying to get it over with, you swallow as much of it as you can. You can feel your body hot as if set aflame. A tight pinch on the inside of your elbow causes you to jump and cry out in pain. And then the shocks come back in. It’s so much more painful, knocking the breath out of you. Your brain is put through a blender. Multiple times.

At some point, you’ve grown numb to the pain.

You wonder if you’ve died.

But then you see red again, and then a bright blue screen.

A man is placed in a chair, remnants of a previous murder are splattered across the floor. He begs and begs, screams a name that seems familiar but for some reason, you can’t remember it. Can’t put that name to a face.

“Say his name and I might just let his daughter go. Alive this time.”

You don’t know this man.

He can be a random lawyer they’ve picked up from the street for all you care. You had a choice, however: Try for the right name in order to save an innocent being, or desperately tell them the truth and see the possibility of surviving this yourself. “I’m -- I --” Your voice is hoarse as you anxiously look for an answer. His daughter, she shouldn’t be killed. The man looks young, making his daughter probably no older than ten. Sure, she shouldn’t be released without a father, but she has so much left to live for, you think. She deserves a chance in this cruel world.

But you can’t think of a name.

You don’t know this man.

What’s his name?

God-Fucking-Damnit, what’s his name?!

“Asset?”

Your gaze snaps over to a man in a white lab-coat. His smirk is unsettling. And who the hell was he talking to? You?

“I don’t know,” you whisper defeatedly. “Please just let her go, I don’t know him.”

Looking like he’s struck gold, he walks up to you, ignoring the gunshot behind him. A small child screams. And then another gunshot.

“Even when you’re lost in this world, you still wanna save someone. That’s heroic. Very cute. That compassion just might get you killed someday. We’ll just have to erase it.”

He leans in, his hot breath fanning across your blood-soaked face. “What’s your name?”

Unsure of what else you could possibly say, you drop your gaze. Your mind is blank suddenly. You don’t even know your name. Did you have one?

“Asset.”

#bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #wolf writes #series #unbreakable #angst #the winter solider x reader #reader insert #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #the avengers #the winter soldier #white wolf #mcu #marvel #captain america

[granpafrisbee]

Truth or Dare Part 1

Warnings: Cussing                    

Word Count: 3,752 (it’s gonna get longer tho)

Pairing: Bucky x OFC           

Masterlist

Summary: After going to Italy and avoiding any romantic relationships for pretty much all her life Joey comes back to the U.S. to move in with her life-long best friend, Sam Wilson, and his two closest friends from college. Joey’s met Steve but is apprehensive to meet the elusive Bucky, whom she’s always missed despite having visited Sam consistently throughout college. Once she meets him, however, she wonders how she’ll be able to run from love when they share a bathroom.

A/N: Hey, so I'll be updating this most Wednesdays. I'll try my hardest to stay regular. 

I wrote this using an OFC bc I cannot work my brain to replace my name with fucking Y/N and I know I'm not the only one. (I always end up reading it as fucking "yuuhnnumm"). I am fully in love with Zazie Beetz so our OFC is completely based on her except maybe a lil chubbier because why not. Really for the apartment just picture the layout of the New Girl loft.

I always have a confusing time picturing characters in fics so I'm gonna lay it out for y'all. Steve is full nomad, them honey brown locks and the full beard. Joey's hair is natural like Zazie so often wears it. Bucky is just Seb in fall/winter 2017 because I am weak for the I, Tonya press tour look. Sam is Mackie's classic look. The rest of the characters can be left to the imagination.

Also  I mention good music so listen to that if you want. Please let me know if you like this and follow my hot garbage tumblr.

Special thanks to @buckybarnesxoxo for asking to be tagged!

the AO3

Stay Sexy

It’s the bathroom that really impresses Joey. She believed Sam when he said the apartment was nice. On seeing it for the first time when moving in, she discovers that her best friend is distinctly incorrect. A working sink is nice. A proper heater is nice. A nearby laundromat is nice. This loft, this four-bedroomed palace, is exquisite in comparison to her previous abodes. The kitchen has all its necessary appliances. There are a washer and dryer in unit. The walls are thick enough that if Sam was stabbed in his neighboring room, she would maybe hear it. Four bedrooms with their very own closets. All of these have her speechless as she tours around. However, as stated above, it’s the bathroom that is killer. The idea of sharing said room with three men is maybe one of the more foreboding aspects of her new sweet digs, but once she sees the giant clawfoot shower and tub, she is sure the positives will heavily outweigh the negatives.

She immediately slides down into her new porcelain palace. She’s a medium height at 5’6”, and even she has to point her toes to touch the far end of the tub. She sighs comfortably and is already planning an essential oils combination for her first real bath when the door swings open and her fantasy is interrupted by one her new roommates. He’s the one she hasn’t met yet but Sam and Steve have shown her plenty of pictures. His hair looks soft and well-coiffed and he wears a tank top under an unbuttoned striped short sleeve button down. Rather than judgment appearing across his abnormally handsome face, he smiles like there was nothing else he could have expected when entering the bathroom.

“You see I specifically told Steve to get a bathtub that doesn’t come with a human.”

“Oh no, you got it all wrong. I’m actually a ghost here to haunt you but hygienically. Instead of boo, I say floss.” She says without a beat and he nods, very seriously, in response to this.

“You know I’m pretty sure I just carried in a bed to our fourth room that might be more comfortable than the tub, but who am I to judge one’s preferred sleeping arrangements.” His quip is followed by another fantastic smile, and based on the past ten seconds of her life Joey is absolutely sure that this is her kind of human.

She smiles back and extends her hand from the tub. “Joey.”

“Bucky,” He shakes her hand and nods again.

“You guys brought up my bed? I told Samuel to let me handle that shit.”

He laughs and scratches his beard, “Ah just gave me another opportunity to show Sam how much stronger I am than him. And Steve the chance to show up both of us.”

Joey chuckles and silently appreciates how Bucky balanced his dig on Sam with some light self-depreciation of himself. Although it would be unrealistic to pretend that anyone was stronger than Steve. The man is built. “Seriously though, I’ll come help y’all out. I’m not gonna be the useless roommate.” She gets out of the tub and starts out the door.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that, I think Sammy’s got that title covered, Darlin’.” He follows her out and therefore doesn’t see her face cringe at the pet name.

She considers calling him on it when Sam yells from the front door, “I know you’re not in there besmirching me to my very own best friend Barnes,” He enters view sweaty and smiling, “And I especially know she wasn’t participating, because she is my best friend and therefore automatically on my side.” He wraps his arm protectively around her shoulders causing her to shrug away from him with her nose scrunched.

“Consider our friendship on sabbatical until you take a shower, Wilson.” Joey continues backing away.

“Jesus I always knew your personality stank but I guess the inside always comes out huh.” Bucky mirrors Joey’s disgusted face as he walks towards the door.

Sam rolls his eyes, “Not funny.” Although the involuntary “Hah!” Joey lets out at Bucky’s comment seems to contradict his statement. Sam just flips her off.

“Thank you, Doll. You see Sammy, even your best friend thinks I’m right.” Bucky mocks as he heads back outside.

This time Sam sees her face twist in reaction to the nickname. Misinterpreting it he grumbles, “Oh come on there’s no way you can smell me from over there.” He starts to head to his room, presumably for deodorant.

Joey follows Bucky downstairs to help with some more furniture moving. Steve is outside their building, ass in the air, bent over picking something up. “Damn Rogers,” Joey calls out appreciatively, “If I knew I’d be getting a view like that I would have shacked up with you years ago.”

He stands up, holding up an entire bookshelf on his own, further challenging the poor under armor shirt that is being stretched to hell on his giant frame. “Hey killer, thanks for joining us.”

She picks up a lamp and smiles at him, “Well I figured you guys needed the extra muscle.”

His smile is bright against his beard as he walks into the house with the ease of a man who isn't carrying a bookshelf.

The four of them finish loading their sporadic furniture into the loft and the afternoon fades to early evening. An old but amazing and huge high-quality leather sectional provided by Steve’s mom. Sam’s flat screen, whom he’s named Esmeralda, and may or may not have a near sexual attraction to. Bucky’s records and a player that’s older than any of them, plus a big wooden dinner table his Dad handmade. Steve’s varied level of completed canvases and paint stuff. Joey’s shelves and chairs she found on the side of the road her senior year in college. A mix of plates, bowls, and utensils have been loaded into varying drawers and cabinets. As well as cooking instruments, although, beyond Joey’s waffle iron and an old cast iron from Steve, it’s all Sam’s. Everyone’s personal boxes and furniture is piled in their own rooms.

Joey sits on the kitchen island as the boys lean against it, all sipping the cheap beer Joey bought as penance for them carrying her bed in. She takes that moment to appreciate the weird chain of events that got her where she is now. She and Sam have been friends since grade school. They went to different colleges but remained good ol’ buddies throughout. When they graduated Joey traveled around and did an apprenticeship with an Italian glassblower. Sam went to Culinary school, and when he graduated the second time around Joey was offered a job with a world-renowned blower (god she will never get tired of calling her profession that) stateside. After little luck finding a two bedroom inexpensive enough for the two of them, Steve, one of Sam’s old college buddies Joey had met many a time during visits, mentioned his friend's dad owned a couple lofts in the neighborhood they were looking in. Sam toured with Steve and Bucky and the three of them signed the lease that day. Sam called Joey that night and announced he was so confident that he forged her signature. He was insistent that it was the best option they’d find, all Steve is a good guy and fellow artist, and even Bucky is sometimes bearable but don’t tell him that. Steve paints and sketches in his free time and works as a personal trainer to pay the bills. Joey knows he isn’t passionate about it, but with his perfect body and matching attitude, she is sure he is fantastic at his job. Sam is starting at a new restaurant with a name Joey can only pronounce thanks to high school French. A plus for living with Sam is that he brings work home with him. Although Joey had visited Sam plenty over the years and even struck up a solid friendship with Steve, she always seems to have missed Bucky. They had never met but she knew he was a language major with a focus in Eastern Europe and Russia. Sam had told her Bucky translated English books into Russian and vice versa and made more money than he should. Earlier Joey had heard him curse in some sort of Slavic tongue when Sam “accidentally” dropped his end of a coffee table on Bucky’s foot. She also had heard a few stories about Steve and Bucky’s childhood, the rambunctious troublemakers lived up to every tall tale. As the four nursed their beers she felt confident that this was going to be a very important group of people in her life.

“Joey?” Sam snapped her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“Barnes suggested we get more beer and pizza and invite some friends over. Are you down?” The three men looked at her expectantly.

“I say hell yeah. Who are we calling?” She looked down at her watch and was surprised to see it was only 6:30.

“Well there are the couples, Nat and Wanda and Thor and Bruce,” Steve suggested.

“I told Shuri I’d pay her in alcohol if she set up all the tech shit,” Bucky adds.

Steve nods, “Now that you mention it, we should probably invite Tony, he’s the reason we got this place.”

“Tony means at least Rhodey and probably Pep, Clint is a must, and if we invite Wanda we should call Pietro too.” Sam finishes his beer and scrolls through his messages.

“Brunnhilde and Okoye are in town too.” Joey hops off the counter and recycles the empty bottles collecting on the island.

“Alright you guys decide who to invite, and I’ll go get libations and sustenance,” Bucky grabs his keys.

“With the list we’ve got you’ll need some help, I’ll come with,” Joey volunteers.

Bucky smiles vibrantly and nods towards to Steve, “You okay babysitting Rogers?”

“As long as Killer doesn’t mind your unreasonably picky ass,” Steve’s retort is so quick that Bucky and Sam raise their middle fingers simultaneously at their aggravator.

Joey and Bucky decide to start off to the pizzeria three blocks away and pick up the beer on the walk back. The walk begins in mildly uncomfortable silence.

“So… you’re picky?” Joey asks to spark some sort of conversation.

“Nooo..” Bucky’s defensiveness creates an endearing drawl, “Those two pompous asses just don’t understand that I like my pizza simple. Margherita pizza is a fucking gift. Who am I to screw it up with a bunch of American bullshit?” He gestures widely as he speaks.

“You’re kidding right?”

Bucky’s must have misinterpreted her smile as he quickly responds, “Alright I’ve been judged enough in my life, I know you lived in Italy and-”

“No, no, Bucky!” She grabs his forearm, “Margherita is my favorite! I ate it all the time in Italy, judgment-free.”

“Jesus Christ Doll, where have you been all my life?”

She smiles and they continue a brisk pace to the pizza place. “How did you know I lived in Italy?”

“Ah, I know plenty about you. Sammy talks about you non-stop, has since I met him. Steve even thought he was secretly in love with you until he hung out with you in person.”

This makes Joey raise her brows, “Really? Wow. What, if I may ask, ultimately caused him to accept our relationship as extraordinarily platonic? Was it the sibling-like side hugs? The lack of sexual tension in our banter? The fact that I knew him during his first mustache phase?”

“Are you telling me there was a skinnier mustache than the one we know and mildly tolerate?”

“I’m talking Prince but pubescent. It was so thin models asked his mustache for dieting tips. It was so thin his first girlfriend thought he had an eyelash over his top lip. I mean you would’ve thought he drew it on with a ballpoint pen. In fact, it’s very possible it was. Just because I never saw doesn’t mean he never-”

Bucky is laughing uproariously, “Please, please, you’re killing me. I’m gonna need pictures as soon as possible.”

“No can do. I will recite the epic of the mustache homer-style until the day I die, but any physical evidence shared will prompt an all-out war between Samuel and me. That is just something I can’t afford.”

“Oh now I have to see them. What’s your secret shame, sweetheart? Bangs? Braces? Please tell me it was an emo phase,” As he lists off he starts walking backward, the goofy smile didn't dim once.

“I’ll never share, but trust me when I say if you find something behind my back, I’m sure Steve will be more than willing to share some pictures of your past. Emo phase is a good guess, but if I didn’t know any better I’d say that was a projection, hmm?”

That does a good job of replacing his smile with pursed lips and a quirked eyebrow, contemplating his next move in this battle of embarrassing adolescence. “Steve would never betray me.”

“Don’t be so sure, all men have their weaknesses,” She smiles deviously.

“Oh yeah, you gonna seduce him for a picture of me in eyeliner?”

“First of all, I would seduce Steve for much less so thanks for confirming my emo theories. Secondly, I may not know Steve like you do, but I know him well enough to see that seduction would hardly prove fruitful.” She holds the door open for him and they both bask in the practically orgasmic scent of the pizzeria, “Steve is so suspicious of anyone who wants to sleep with him that he’d see through me. My method would be to trick him to do some sort of high school ‘Where are they now?’ portrait. He’d be so inspired he’d paint your lined eyes and black, I’m guessing, over parted hair in a second.” The line is moving slowly and he admires how she never lowers her volume or hides from strangers eyes.

“Damn, Doll, you’re good.”

“I minored in manipulation.” The store isn’t too packed for Saturday night and Sam Cooke is playing lightly in the background. She’s nodding her head and he’s mouthing along to words and when they both realize this they share a smile at the music.

“So Steve is a suspicious mind in your book?” She chuckles at his reference.

“I’m not the biggest drinker and neither is Steve, so when Sammy went hard when I visited, Steve was always good for a tipsy talk. The poor guy has the same self-esteem he must have had in high school. Unlike us three cool cats Steve will show me pictures of his past self. I know you were there through it all, but just because the outside changes doesn’t mean the inside follows suit. I have seen the most dedicated and gorgeous women throw themselves at him and yet he remains sure that she was ‘just being friendly’. It’s actually impressive.”

“I know what you mean. To be fair though a lot of that is just his college girlfriend. She really did a number on him.” He runs a hand through his hair but doesn’t hide his contempt for whoever she is.

Solemn surprise covers Joey’s features, “I never knew. Never met her on any visits.”

“She wasn’t big on him talking to other girls, probably hid him anytime you came around. Although that isn’t my story to tell, I’m sure the punk will tell you about it sometime.” She follows his eye line down to his shoes. He’s drawing stars with the tip of his shoe, a tic she’s just noticing.

“What about you? You have a girl hiding you away, distracting you during your collegiate years? She the reason our meeting was so unluckily delayed until today?”

He thinks about the answer for a second or two. “Nah, no anchor to this ship. At this point, I’m just convinced Wilson just didn’t tell me you were around because he knew you would like me more than him.”

“Well turns out I like Steve better than both of you.”

He puts his hands up and reassures her, “I don’t need to be first, Sweetheart, just as long as I’m on your radar.” As he lowers his hands the song changes and they simultaneously recognize the song, both begin humming the initial notes. “Penny & The Quarters fan huh?” He asks.

“Nobody, baby, but-” she sings before quickly turning her attention to the cashier, “We’ll have two large Everything Pizzas and one large Margherita.” Facing Bucky again she smiles and drops another line that makes his heart race, “Just for you and me, huh?”

The pizza is out quick, and a trip to the local gas station provides them with more than enough beer. They continue discussing music, Joey is surprised at their similarly irregular taste. He describes his favorite Etta James songs, but can’t forget the Simon and Garfunkel song that he thinks is his first love encapsulated. He lists his top three favorite rappers after ranking contemporary folk bands. She adds in her opinions sporadically, and he apologizes twice for dominating the conversation when they get in the elevator.

She is being honest when she says, “There’s nothing I want to hear more than whatever you’re going to say right this moment.” He thinks that every lyric in every song he’s just listed doesn’t have shit on that sentence.

He’s about to tell her so when an alarming large hand last minute catches the elevator as it closes. The doors open to the Thor and Bruce. The couple is the lynchpin of every good party, from rager to kickback. Thor is the greatest hype man in history but is never hammered, probably because it would take two handles of tequila to get him there. Bruce is much more chill but a secret god at beer pong, not to mention he always has weed. Bucky’s favorite part of their presence always happens when Bruce is particularly high and begins a lecture on some sort of subject no one else understands. He isn’t exactly captivating, especially not to anyone far from sober although his passion is palpable, but Thor will plop down on the couch next to him and watch him like he’s the only thing in the universe (while rubbing Bruce’s neck to keep him from getting too wound up). Bucky loves those guys.

“Looks like we arrived just in time, wouldn’t you say Thor?” Bruce shakes Bucky’s hand and smiles at Joey.

“Of course! I was worried we got too much pizza, but now that you’re here Thor I’m sure you’ll help us with any surplus.” Joey sets the pizzas down before Thor pulls her into a bear hug.

“Joey, you know I never leave a damsel in distress,” Thor agrees as he sets her back on her feet.

Joey’s eyebrow playfully shoots up, “Who are you calling damsel, Odinson?”

“In this case, definitely Sam. I’m surprised he even let you order out.” Bruce answers for his boyfriend.

“My love is right in my insinuation. Never ever have I seen you anywhere near damsel status Joe.” Bucky watches their interaction with curiosity.

The elevator dings and Bucky asks, “This may seem like a dumb question but how do you guys know each other? Just through Sam?”

Joey picks up the pizzas as Thor holds the door open, ”Thor’s siblings and I were all in a group home together as teens. I’ve known this big lug long before he was the Nordic party god we see before us.” Thor laughs and he and Bruce go to greet everyone inside.

“Are you telling me Thor hasn’t always been a blonde beefcake?” Bucky whispers in Joey’s ear as they set the pizza and beer on the counter.

“Sadly no, he’s looked like that since I met him. I just like making that joke because he’s too humble to care.” She makes note that he doesn’t question the foster home part of her story. She wonders just what Sam has told him about her past.

People start to crowd the food and drinks, so Joey and Bucky greet everyone who has arrived. Nat is there sans Wanda, who is at home sick. Bucky knows this means Nat will be leaving early. Pietro made it despite his ill sibling, but he still looks pretty sick of the conversation in front of him. Shuri and Clint are mid-argument about the chicken and the egg when Bucky thanks them for coming. Clint gives him a smile and points to a fake succulent on the table and mumbles, “Got you guys a housewarming present,” before returning his attention to telling Shuri that the Chicken is the obvious choice. Shuri tells Bucky she set up the wifi and the apple tv and Clint doesn’t even register that she’s talking over him. Bucky kisses her cheek and hands her a beer.

Steve is sitting with Bruce and Thor on the couch, all of them engrossed in conversation and pizza. Sam is chopping fresh onion for his pizza when Bucky asks, “These are the few you could bribe to get here?”

“These losers are the only ones without any plans on a Saturday night,” Sam says without looking up.

Clint and Pietro both look up and say a simultaneous, “Hey!” Before turning their attention back to their conversation.

“T’Challa and Nakia are in Paris. Brunnhilde has a gig tonight. Okoye hung up on me when I said pizza and beer. Parker has an exam. Tony named six events he was invited to tonight and would’ve kept going if Steve hadn’t hung up. Pepper and Rhodey are probably plus thing one and two wherever Tony ended up at. Thus, this motley crew is all we got.” Sam sprinkles his diced onion on top of his already spilling slice and when he bites into it his groan stops the conversations surrounding the apartment.

“Lame. Your intestines are not going to be thanking you for that monster you are devouring under the alias of pizza.” Joey makes a face as he continues to stuff his face.

“Like eating just mozzarella and basil is enjoyable at all,” Sam dismisses her and joins the rest of their crew.

“Heathens,” Bucky dramatically admonishes their friends, “You ready Doll?”

This time he catches the tightening of her expression at his comment, ”Born ready.” They both grab a piece of their untouched pizza and taps crusts in cheers.

Part 2

Part 3

Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky x ofc #marvel au #modern au #roommate au #bucky roommate au #steve rogers #captain america #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction #sam wilson #zazie beetz #bucky x poc

[thysparrowsdrew]

full draft of chapter 3! (albeit in need of major line edits)

In a room at the nearest Motel Six, freshly-painted warding sigils drying on the walls, Margarita sits on one of the two beds and bows her head in prayer. “Holy Ishim the Angel, Holy Kadmiel the Angel, Holy Jehoel the Angel, hear this prayer. Benjamin and Castiel need to speak with you about a danger to the flight. Starting frequency is 428.934KHz; hopping algorithm is Roadhouse three-point-one; seed is five-nine-gimel-zayin. Amen.”

Even for practiced angels, frequency hopping requires concentration: In the back of her mind, Benjamin goes quiet with focus, and Castiel, seated at the room’s table with Sam and Dean, stares unblinking into the middle distance. (The table’s fourth chair sits empty.)

“Did she say Roadhouse?” Dean asks Castiel, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Castiel doesn’t acknowledge the question.

“He can’t really hear you right now,” says Margarita. “Neither can Benjamin. We humans are alone for a little while.” She remembers the twenty-first book of the Winchester Gospels, and she offers a gentle, sympathetic smile. “Yes, I did say Roadhouse. Angel radio, as you call it, wasn’t built for privacy. Your friend Ash Miles invented the first frequency hopping algorithms-- a way for Raphael’s enemies to speak without him listening.” Of course, Raphael’s army adopted use of their own algorithms not long after his opponents-- but it was a war of unequal strength, and secrecy advantaged the weak more than the strong.

Sam blinks in surprise. “I never knew he was involved in that.”

“Oh, he was more than involved. He was a key part of the war effort. Without his help, we’d have lost in the first month.”

“So you were one of Cas’s soldiers?”

Margarita’s expression shutters. “Vessels aren’t soldiers. We’re wielded by them.”

“Now that’s some bullcrap,” says Dean. “It’s your body on the line, ain’t it? If you’re in the war, you’re in the war.”

Margarita’s breath catches. She reminds herself that this is Dean Winchester she’s speaking to; she can’t be surprised he blindly stumbled into a minefield and detonated half the charges. “Dean, I know you mean well, but you really don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I was the freaking Michael Sword; I think I--”

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” Margarita repeats, in a tone that brooks no argument. Castiel was Benjamin’s general, not hers. Benjamin’s friend, not hers. Benjamin’s betrayer, not hers. Soldiers bled and died under Castiel’s banner of free will, and in victory, he spat on all of them: I thought the answer was free will, but I understand now. You need a firm hand.

After Castiel proclaimed a new day on Earth and in Heaven, Benjamin returned to Margarita in a panic, his thoughts nothing but bone-deep terror and a clamor of need to hide need to hide. For three days, he was unable to speak. All he could do was show fragments of memories: the killing fields, the blackened grass, the speech. Benjamin remembers the speech as it happened, but Margarita remembers it like a broken phonograph, jumbled and skipping and repeating. Every word is seared into her.

She wasn’t Castiel’s soldier. She can’t have been.

And the part she hates most of all: She’s right. Vessels bled alongside soldiers, died alongside soldiers, but soldiers were soldiers, and vessels were vessels. She went into every battle knowing a simple fact: If she died at the hands of the enemy, only one name would be spoken of, and the name would not be hers.

After a minute of no one speaking, Dean tries to crack the tension. “You do a great scary nun voice,” he says. “You ever teach at a Catholic school?”

Sam smacks his brother’s arm.

Another minute, and Benjamin and Castiel break from the trance. /Ishim is alive,/ Benjamin tells her, while Castiel relays the same information out loud to the Winchesters. /He’ll meet us here in four hours. Jehoel was killed this April, Kadmiel last September./

Two years ago, unable to stomach any more news of his siblings using their vessels to murder each other, Benjamin started blocking every frequency except Heaven’s emergency frequency and the flight’s distress signal frequency. It doesn’t surprise Margarita that this is the first they’ve heard about the deaths, but-- /April was six months ago. Why didn’t Castiel already know?/

/He asked Ishim that same question. Ishim said he thought Castiel wouldn’t care./

/Wouldn’t care? That’s what Ishim came up with?/

/I know. Ishim managed to find the one thing in the universe Castiel is innocent of./

/It’s a miracle. You could write crimes on a dartboard and throw with your eyes closed, and nine times out of ten, you’d hit a true accusation. But Ishim went with wouldn’t care./

Margarita tunes back into the Winchesters’ conversation. “--Jehoel,” Sam is saying. “Do we give their vessels a call?”

“Benjamin and I don’t know their names,” says Margarita. “All we know is that they both took new vessels after the Fall. Castiel?”

“I don’t either.”

“Did Ishim say where they were killed?” asks Sam. “The police reports might have the vessels’ names.”

“Kadmiel was in Porto Alegre,” answers Castiel. “Jehoel was in London.”

Sam pulls a laptop from his bag. “We’ll start with Jehoel.” He sets the laptop on the table -- at an angle where Margarita can see the screen, if she leans to the left -- and gets to work. In just a handful of minutes, he has full access to Scotland Yard’s databases. Margarita wonders if this is a new skill, or if the prophet Chuck Shurley neglected to mention it. Sam types, pauses, types again, and announces, “I got three homicide cases from April where the police report mentions wings.”

“How do we know which one is Jehoel?” asks Dean.

“You won’t,” says Castiel, “but I can identify her from her wings.”

“Like fingerprints?” asks Sam.

“Like a nametag.” 

Sam pulls up a picture from the crime scene. “Is this her?”

Margarita leans to the left. She doesn’t recognize the vessel -- a stocky white man, middle-aged, light-haired -- but Benjamin can read the wings. /Gamliel,/ he says. 

“No,” says Castiel. “That’s-- This doesn't make sense. Those are Gamliel’s wings, but he died in Sirjan eight years ago, trying to save the forty-sixth seal.”

“He survived,” says Margarita. “We saw him three years ago.”

Gamliel was a widely-respected commander known for his exceptional dedication to his troops. For a moment, Castiel looks like he might argue against the idea that Gamliel could be a deserter, but then he turns to Sam and says, in a rougher voice than before, “The next one.”

“Wait,” says Margarita. “What was his name? The vessel.”

“Do you think he’s part of this?” asks Sam.

“No, but his name should be spoken. He’s owed that.”

“This says it was, uh, Blake Harris.”

“Thank you.”

In the year after the Fall, Margarita and Benjamin spent hours every day searching the Internet for new vessel killings. Benjamin said that he needed to see them, needed to know that at least one angel would remember the human toll. He says the same thing now that he used to say after each news article: /I will remember him./

Sam loads a picture of the next case’s crime scene. “Jehoel,” Castiel says, at the same time Benjamin says, /That’s her./

“Says her name was Abigail Dupont,” Sam reads.

“Here’s hoping she has some answers,” says Dean.

Again, they prepare the spell; again, Castiel gives his blood before Benjamin can offer; again, Castiel speaks the incantation. “Hello, Abigail,” he says to the bubbling bowl. 

“Hey, Mysterious Voice From The Ceiling. I don’t think you’ve been in this dream before. This was a fucking awesome concert, and they’re gonna do Misery Business soon, so if this is about to turn into a nightmare, can you just wait a little? Like ten minutes? I really love that song.”

“You aren’t dreaming.”

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure I am.”

“Do you remember what happened on the night of April third?”

“What are you, a cop?”

“I’m an angel.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, dude, but I already said the big Y-E-S to somebody else, and I don’t wanna kick off some game of angelic musical chairs by switching. You’re gonna have to keep looking. Uh, I guess you can stick around for the rest of the concert, though, if you want? I bet listening to hymns all the time gets pretty boring.”

“I’m not interested in taking you as a vessel. Even if I were, you wouldn’t be able to serve as one in your current state.”

“Jesus Christ. Whoever taught you guys reverse psychology needs to be shot. My current state? Is that supposed to make me want to prove you wrong? Oh no, Mr. Random Holy Jackass says I’m not good enough, how will I--”

“Your current state is dead, Abigail.”

A long silence, and then, “Fuck.”

“My condolences.”

“Yeah, well, eternal Paramore concert. Can’t complain too much, I guess. What’s your name, Mystery Angel?”

“Castiel.”

“Double fuck. Is this an end-of-the-world thing?”

“No.”

“It’s just, from what I’ve heard, when you’re involved, it’s usually an end-of-the-world thing. Or it turns into an end-of-the-world thing.”

“It isn’t an ‘end-of-the-world thing’. I’m trying to find the angel who killed you and Jehoel.”

“You mean psycho eyepatch lady? Jehoel said she wasn’t an angel.”

“She wasn’t? What was she?”

“A human. That’s what Jehoel said, anyway.”

Castiel draws a sharp breath. “How did a human kill Jehoel?”

“Oh, it was super freaky. It was like eyepatch lady was carrying angel kryptonite. Jehoel tried to throw eyepatch lady back with her mind -- it’s super cool that angels can do that, by the way? -- but anyway, this time, it did jack shit. Eyepatch lady didn’t budge. She was all, ‘Your little angel tricks won’t work on me, Jehoel.’ And then we got stabbed. Y’know, I always thought if I got stabbed, it’d be from mouthing off to the wrong person? That’s what my brother used to say. But it was just ‘cause somebody wanted to murder the angel living in my head.

“Hurt like a bitch when it happened. It was funny, some dude tried to stop her, and eyepatch lady was all, ‘I don’t want to hurt humans.’ Guess I didn’t count, huh?”

“You did count,” says Benjamin, firmly. “You were still human. What was done to you was wrong.”

“Oh, hey, Mystery Angel Number Two. I like the way you think. What’s your name? Any other angels on the line, or is it just you two?”

“My name is Benjamin. Castiel and I are the only angels here.”

“Cool. Anything else you wanna know?”

“Can you describe her?” asks Castiel.

“White, thin, long red hair. Uh... Five foot six. Early forties, maybe? The eyepatch was black. Over her right eye. Right when you’re looking at her, not her right.”

“When she attacked you, did she use any incantations?”

“Nope. Not one. I asked Jehoel if she was a witch, and Jehoel said she wasn’t.”

“Did she have any inhuman abilities other than immunity to Enochian magic?”

“If she did, she didn’t use ‘em on us. Oh, wait! Shit. I remember now. She has a husband. I guess he’s a demon or something? Jehoel called eyepatch lady ‘Akobel’s human wife.’”

Castiel and Benjamin both straighten in alarm. “You’re certain Jehoel said Akobel?” asks Castiel.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

“And the woman,” says Benjamin. “You’re certain she had red hair?”

“I mean, not red red. Not like a firetruck. Natural red, like, uh, what’s her-- Amy Adams. Is that helpful?”

Akobel’s red-haired human wife. Margarita saw Lily Sunder only once: standing with Akobel on the porch of their home in Orono, Maine, looking down with fear at the flight of angels on her doorstep. Go back inside, Akobel had told her, as though human-built walls could delay Heaven’s justice. /Ishim’s report of her death seems to have been greatly exaggerated,/ says Benjamin, with little humor. Out loud, he says, “Very much so.”

“Thank you for your help, Abigail,” says Castiel.

“No problem. Hey, when you find the psycho, kick her ass for me, okay?”

The blood stops bubbling.

“Who’s Akobel?” asks Sam. “The way you two reacted, it seemed like you know him.”

Castiel doesn’t answer. Inside Margarita’s head, Benjamin is similarly silent.

“Uh, guys?”

“They’re talking to Ishim,” says Margarita. “They want to know how Lily Sunder is alive when Ishim killed her over a century ago.”

“That’s the woman’s name? Lily Sunder?”

Margarita nods, mentally thumbing through the metaphorical pages of the mission briefing. To most angels, especially before the Fall, vessels were simply weapons to be wielded. Sharing mission details with one was like talking to your blade: not forbidden, exactly, but odd and likely indicative of a deeper problem. Benjamin was different. Before each mission, he always shared the briefing in full, and he always offered a choice.

“Lily Sunder was a professor of apocalyptic literature who learned how to summon angels,” says Margarita. “She summoned Akobel, married him, and knowingly birthed a nephilim. Akobel successfully concealed his crime for five years. After Heaven became aware, the flight was sent to kill the nephilim and render justice unto its parents. Mirabel executed Akobel, with--” she falters, remembering her hand’s inhumanly strong grip on Ephram Sunder’s arm, only letting go when his body went limp “-- with Benjamin and Castiel’s assistance. Ishim executed, or claimed to execute, Lily and the nephilim.”

“He took mercy on Lily,” says Castiel, rejoining the conversation. “Only Lily.”

/Mercy on a human?/ asks Margarita. /That doesn’t sound like the Ishim we knew./

/He believed Akobel corrupted her into mothering the nephilim. After recent events, he now believes the opposite./

“Cas,” says Sam, “you guys, uh...”

Dean’s eyes are hard. “You killed a five-year-old, and now the mom’s gunning for revenge. Can’t say I blame her.”

“We completed a mission,” says Castiel.

“Some mission.”

“When nephilim come into their power, entire worlds die. It was horrific, but it was necessary. It was right.”

“Well, if you say so.”

“Wait,” says Sam. “Sister Margarita, you said a century ago? Even if Ishim let her live back then, how is she alive now?”

“Rowena’s older than that,” says Dean.

“Rowena’s a witch. Lily’s human.”

“Ishim believes she made a pact with a demon,” says Castiel. “A deal to grant her youth and immunity from our powers.”

/Castiel would know about working with demons, wouldn’t he,/ says Benjamin, unable not to.

“What, like a crossroads deal?” asks Dean. “That’s a hell of a long time for a demon to wait to collect.”

“Yeah,” says Sam. “And Lily’s waited a long time, too. This all happened a century ago, right? But the first death was in 2015. Why not sooner?”

The answer is obvious. Benjamin tries not to make it sound like an accusation: he keeps his tone neutral and his eyes on Sam as he says, “Our wings.” Before Castiel can respond, he continues briskly, “Akobel’s vessel, Ephram Sunder, might know something about this demon pact. We should speak to him.”

Dean looks skeptical. “You think he’ll want to help us stop his wife from getting revenge for their kid?”

“The spawn was Akobel’s, not Ephram’s. To knowingly sire a nephilim is one of the few crimes against Heaven that outweighs serving as a vessel. Ephram’s soul ascended after Akobel’s execution. Had he consented to the union, his soul would have gone elsewhere.”

Dean and Sam blanch at the implications. “Shit,” says Dean. “So for six years, this guy was...”

“And Lily was aware of her husband’s true nature throughout their marriage. Do you still doubt Ephram will want to help us?”

Sam shakes his head.

For the third time, they prepare the spell: glyphs, blood, holy oil, sage, myrrh. Benjamin speaks the incantation.

Nothing happens.

They wait.

Nothing continues to happen.

“Maybe you got the wrong name?” asks Sam.

Castiel shakes his head. “That was the name we received in our briefing.”

“Well, maybe they got the wrong name.”

“I doubt it,” says Benjamin. “The ancien régime made many mistakes, but not this type of mistake.”

Knowing what he needs to do next, Margarita says, /It’s okay. I’ll be fine./

/I hate it, but it’s our best option here. If we were closer to the portal--/

/You would take me with you. I know. But you’re right; with the cards we have, this is the best play we can make. You’ll be safe from Lily there, and I’ll be safer here./

“You think someone’s trying to keep Ephram from talking?” asks Sam.

“I think something is very wrong here,” says Benjamin. “Ishim and I will investigate in Heaven. We’ll leave the Earthly investigation to you.”

“Hold on,” says Dean. “You’re just gonna run off to Heaven and leave Cas here?”

“My presence on this plane makes Margarita a target, and until we know how to counteract Lily’s powers, I’m unable to defend her. I will not allow her to come to harm because of me.”

“I understand,” says Castiel, with a glance at Dean.

“Maybe she doesn’t want you to leave,” says Dean, not really speaking to Benjamin. “Maybe she wants you to stick around even though it’s dangerous. Did you think about that?”

/Oh, for God’s sake,/ says Margarita.

/Oh, for Father’s sake,/ says Benjamin. “Margarita agrees with me that this is our best course of action. We discussed it using these fascinating little things called ‘words.’ They’re a new invention; you might not have heard of them.”

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it with an audible click. Castiel shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Sam’s expression is a long-suffering plea: See what I have to deal with?

Warmth floods Margarita’s veins as Benjamin fills them with enough extra grace to heal nearly any injury. /One Phoenix Down./

/I’ll try not to get impaled by any one-winged angels while you’re gone./

The joke falls flatter than the Tower of Babel. /Please. Please, stay safe. If anything happened to you because of this, I... I couldn’t.../

/I’ll be safe. Go. Te esperaré./

/Volveré a ti./ Benjamin tilts back her head, pours out of her open mouth in a radiant cloud of shimmering blue-white, and disappears into a vent.

#prayer of the possessed tag

[bxcketbarnes]

The Gun Range

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 3863

Author’s Note: My friend Sam had given me this idea and I absolutely loved it, so I wrote it. This is like so cute and I’m so in love with it and I hope you guys end up loving it as well! She ( @lovelydob ) had also proofread this for me as well!

I grabbed my laundry basket, phone in hand as I walked into the laundry room. I placed my phone on the dryer, glancing over at it as I waited for Dylan to call me. I opened the washing machine lid, throwing my clothes into it after I had put my detergent into it. I set the basket on the dryer, picking my phone up before heading into the kitchen.

 “C’mon, Dyl.” I muttered, glancing down at my lock screen, smiling at the picture of the two of us. My heart swelled, unlocking my phone as I look at the pictures of us together.

 All of my friends and family tell me that we'd be cute together, but I don't think it'd ever happen. I've dreamt about it for years and he's never really showed any interest in me that way.

 I was snapped out of my thoughts when my phone vibrated against the counter. I looked down at my phone, seeing Dylan’s face on the screen and I grinned, answering the FaceTime immediately.

 Dylan’s face popped up and he couldn't look anymore attractive, but honestly, he probably could. He was sporting a gray baseball hat that was backwards on his head, hiding his chestnut colored hair, black ray bans, hiding his gorgeous honey brown eyes, and a bit of scruff since he had shaved for the NY American Assassin Premiere.

 I smiled widely, a little confused on where he is but excited to finally see him. “Hey Dyl!” I greeted and he smiled, showing off his pearly whites.

 “Hey, lookin’ cute.” He laughed and I flipped him off, looking down at the Stilinski jersey I was wearing. “So, guess where I’m at!” He grinned, licking his lips a bit as I squinted, trying to recognize the surroundings he's in but fail.

 “Uh, I have no idea. Where are you?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. Another older looking man had joined him on screen and gave me a small wave. Dylan had flipped the camera around, seeing the targets and what looks to be like a makeshift room. He points the camera towards the guns and my lips part.

 “I'm at a gun range!” His exciting voice filled the kitchen, turning the camera back on himself and he laughed at my expression. “This here is Joost, he's a military advisor and we’re gonna do a video for thechive on some basic gun training and tactics.” Dylan smiled and I continued to stare at him.

 “Oh my god. Alright, one, you look hella fucking cute. How dare you,” I laughed and so did Dylan, a pink hue covering his cheeks. “And two, I'm so fucking jealous.” I groaned, leaning my fist against my cheek, wishing I could've gone. “I've always wanted to go to a gun range.”

 “Woah, wait, really?” Dylan asked, looking shocked as I nodded my head in response, smiling at him. “I never knew that. How come you didn't tell me that?” He asked again and I shook my head, resting my chin on my arm.

 “I didn't know what you'd think if I told you. Usually girls would be like ‘why would I want to shoot guns?’ but I'm super down with it.” I bit my lip softly, feeling a little embarrassed as he stared at me through the screen.

 “You're so fucking cool.” Dylan muttered, shaking his head. “If I had known that I would've taken you with me.” He chuckled and I laughed, snapping my fingers.

 “Well damn it!” I giggled, resting the side of my face on my forearm, both of us looking into each others eyes and Joost cleared his throat from behind Dylan, snapping him out of our gaze. I pressed my lips together, my heartbeat speeding up slightly.

 “Alright well, we’re going to start. If you want, I can prop up my phone and let you watch?” Dylan offered and I smiled, nodding my head. He set up his phone before going over to the gun table, grabbing an assault rifle and pistol. I watched him as he loaded the gun, honestly feeling a bit turned on at how good he looks with a gun as him and Joost stood on the mark for them to begin filming.

 “Hey guys, I’m Dylan.” Dylan introduced as Joost introduced himself afterwards, smiling at the camera. “We’re out here with theChive today to show you some basic gun training and tactics that we did for the movie, American Assassin. Let’s do it!” Dylan grinned, giving Joost a handshake.

 Dylan got his guns ready as Joost explained the first course. “Course one, transition drill, nail down four targets. You’re gonna run out of bullets in your rifle, primary goes down, go for your secondary pistol, and the money shot is that ostrich.”

 After Joost had explained, he gave Dylan the signal to start and he pointed the assault rifle, trying to shoot it as it wasn’t firing. The crew laughed and he looked at the rifle in his hands, noticing something.

 “Fuck, the safety’s on.” He yelled out and I bursted out laughing, hearing the words “cut,” come from someone and Dylan turned around playfully glaring at me. I giggled, placing my hand over my mouth, trying to stop myself from laughing so much. Dylan walked towards his phone, pushing his sunglasses against the bridge of his nose, showing me those gorgeous eyes of his.

 “You’re giving me such confidence right now.” He laughed and I grinned, giving him a playful wink. “God, you’re so fucking cute.” Dylan whispered, almost not hearing it and my cheeks flushed.

 “Go get ‘im tiger.” I smiled, giving him a thumbs up. Dylan pushed his sunglasses back in place, getting into position as I heard “action.”

 Dylan began shooting the targets, his knees slightly bent as his primary ran out of ammo, laying it against his side, pulling out the pistol, finishing off the targets. I heard the washing machine stop, signaling that my laundry was done and I set my phone down, walking into the laundry room, hearing Joost explain the second course faintly. I threw my clothes into the dryer, turning it on as I ran back to my phone, seeing Dyl and Joost head towards a closed door.

 “Doors locked.” Dylan called out and moved to the side a bit as Joost kicked the door down. My view was obscured by the walls as I heard the shots go off.

 “Clear left,” Joost called out.

 “Clear right,” Dylan yelled, moving towards another course. “Alright, on me.” He told Joost moving their way to the open field of targets, both men shooting the targets, switching guns at one point as the shot the stuffed ostrich.

 “He’s so lucky.” I muttered to myself as they grabbed shotguns for the bonus round. They began shooting watermelons and jugs filled with color liquids, watching them explode by the close contact of the powerful weapon. The two of them unloaded at the stand a few feet away from them, the jugs and ostrich filled with bullet holes. The crew had yelled cut again, ending the video as Joost gave Dylan a high five.

 “So? How’d I do?” Dylan asked after he walked over to his phone, picking it up. “Were you impressed by my badass skills?” He laughed, adjusting his hat as he sat away from everyone else.

 “You did really well, actually.” I smiled, going to sit in the living room, laying on my stomach on the couch. “I was super impressed, and now if something bad happens I know who to call.” I laughed, curling a piece of hair in my fingers.

 “Absolutely. Call me if you’re ever in trouble. My inner Stiles is coming out. Call me before the police.” Dylan laughed, placing his hat on his lap, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, can I come over once I’m done here?” He asked and I gave him a look.

 “Are you kidding me, Dyl? You can come over anytime you like. It gets lonely here you know.” I bit my lip, analyzing his features as his eyes lit up. He licked his lips, his attention going to someone else as he nodded his head to whatever they were saying.

 “I have to go, but I’ll text you when I leave here. Okay?” Dylan reassured and I nodded, softly waving to him. “Bye, beautiful.” He muttered before hanging up the phone.

 Dylan walked over to Joost, his gears turning as he wondered if he should go through with the plan or not. You always wanted to go to a gun range and Dylan would love to take you, as a date. He thought it’d be the perfect first date.

 “Hey, Joost?” Dylan called out and the older gentlemen turned around, giving the affirmative for him to continue. “Um, well, you know how Y/N had mentioned that she always wanted to go to a gun range.”

 “Right. You wanna take her here?” Joost asked and Dylan nodded his head.

 “Yeah, if it’s okay with you. I mean, I know all the safety procedures and I just want her to have a great time. Hopefully something great will come out of this.” Dylan muttered, toying with his phone. “If you haven’t noticed, I really like her, might even love her.”

 “I noticed. I think you should go for it. The relationship you two have is special.” Joost smiled, before leaving the gun range. Dylan grinned, pumping his fists as he packed everything, heading over to your house after sending you a quick message.

 I had gotten Dylan’s text about ten minutes ago, noticing that I’m not wearing pants since they’re in the dryer, and the dryer won’t be done for another fifteen minutes. I went to go upstairs to see if I had any spare pants when someone knocked on my door. I walked over to the door, looking through the peep hole as I saw Dylan standing on the other side of it, looking down the hallway.

 “Password?” I yelled, laughing as I watched him look at the door, shaking his head. “C’mon Dyl, what’s the password!” I chuckled and I saw him sigh before answering.

 “Biles Bilinski.”

 I opened the door a bit, trying not to give everyone the view of me not wearing pants. Dylan walked in, closing the door behind him as his eyes widened a bit. “Y-You’re not wearing pants.” He stuttered, his face flushed as he looked away.

 “Yeah, my pants I was wearing are in the laundry and I was going to check if I had any extra pairs, but you knocked on my door. Now here we are.” I smiled, walking towards the small hallway as I went to go check my dresser quickly, flashing the bottom of my lace blue panties. I heard his breath hitch and smirked, always love when he gets flustered.

 I managed to find a pair of leggings and I slip them on quickly, almost falling over. I had walked back out into the living room, seeing Dylan sit on the couch, fidgeting with his fingers, something he does when he’s nervous.

 “Dyl? You okay?” I asked and his head snapped around, looking up at me and he nodded his head, licking his lips. I sat down on the couch next to him, crossing my legs as I faced him.

 “Yeah, I’m alright.” He smiled, nervously and I bit my lip, reaching out to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers. I rubbed my thumb against the back of his hand, my heart pounding against my ribcage as I’ve never had the courage to do this before. Dylan glanced up at me before his gaze returned to our hands.

 “You can tell me anything, you know. I can tell you’re nervous about something.” I frowned, placing our hands in my lap. His thumb rubbed my hand softly, his eyes staying on the two limbs together.

 “Are you doing anything Friday?” Dylan asked me and I thought for a second, shaking my head no. “Um, if I asked you to go somewhere with me, would you?” He asked another question and I tilted my head to the side, wondering if he was serious.

 “Of course I will. You’re my best friend.” I smiled and his face fell, pulling his hand away from mine. My smile fell, feeling the pang in my heart as he got up from the couch, walking towards the kitchen. “Dylan?” I asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

 “Do you only see me as a best friend?” He asked and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, not knowing if I should answer truthfully or not. “The reason I asked if you would go somewhere with me is because I-I wanted to take you out… on a date.” Dylan muttered, glancing over at me, his cheeks flushed.

 My heartbeat sped up even faster, stumbling to get off the couch as I walked over to him. “Y-You want to go on a date with me?” I whispered, looking up at him as my hands softly gripped his blue t-shirt.

 “I do, I really do. Would you want to?” He asked me and I smiled widely, nodding my head. Dylan let out a sigh of relief, pressing his forehead against mine, his hands softly trailing down my arms.

 “You wanna go now? I don’t think I can wait until Friday…” I muttered embarrassingly, my eyes fluttering shut as I felt his breath on my face.

 “I’m totally okay with going now. I have a surprise for you.” He muttered, his fingers playing with mine lightly. “Are you going to wear that, or?” Dylan asked, looking down at my outfit. “You know what, that outfit is perfect for where we’re going.” He grinned.

 “Let me just get some shoes.” I smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek, running into my bedroom, grabbing my blue and white Adidas. I slipped them on quickly before walking back out, grabbing my house keys.

 The two of us left my apartment, getting into Dylan’s car as he began driving towards our destination. He glanced over at me a few times, his hand tapping against his leg as he seemed to be contemplating himself before he reached over, grabbing my hand, intertwining our fingers softly.

 I glanced out the window, watching as the scenery changed from the city to a more mountainy area. We pulled onto a dirt road, pulling to a stop as I noticed a small shack in front of us, looking towards Dylan.

 “Where are we?” I asked and Dylan grinned, getting out of the car. I unbuckle my seatbelt as Dylan ran over, opening my door for me and I smiled, thanking him quietly. We began walking around the small wooden shack thing, my hand grazing his arm, feeling the veins prodding his skin as I took his hand in mine.

 Once we got around, I noticed the targets and glanced over towards the tables, seeing the assault rifles, pistols, and shotguns and my lips parted, stepping away from Dylan.

 “Oh my god…” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hand as Dylan smiled widely, walking over to the table.

 “Surprise!” He yelled, handing me some safety glasses. I took them into my hand, wrapping my arms around his neck, squealing. He laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist as he twirled me around a bit before setting me back down. “I take it you like the surprise?” Dylan asked and I nodded my head.

 “You did this for me?” I asked and he grinned, nodding his head yes. “You’re absolutely amazing Dyl.” I whispered, leaning my head against his chest. His large hand rubbed my back and I looked up at him through my eyelashes, his eyes boring into mine.

 “C’mon, I want to teach you how to shoot.” Dylan grinned, bringing me over to the table.

 I placed my safety glasses on, picking up a pistol as I awe over the black handgun, feeling the weight of it in my hands. Dylan took the gun from my hands, making sure it was loaded and that the safety was on before handing it back to me. We walked over to the targets, and I stood next to him, waiting for him to give me some sort of direction.

 “Okay, so, you wanna cradle the gun like you’re holding a dove.” He mentioned and I furrowed my eyebrows together, looking back at him. He rolled his eyes, “don’t give me that look.” Dylan laughed and I put my hands up in surrender, cradling the pistol in my hands, pointing it towards the metal target. “Make sure the safety is off before you shoot it, don’t follow what I did earlier.” He laughed and I chuckled, shaking my head. I turned the safety off, pointing it back at the target, glancing back at him.

 “How should I stand?” I asked and Dylan moved behind me, pressing his body against mine, pressing his hands to the back of my knees, making my legs give out slightly. “Alright, I said stand not collapse.” I chuckled.

 “I’m making sure you bend your knees a bit.” He laughed and I rolled my eyes. His hands laid on top of mine, his lips pressed against the shell of my ear, whispering into it. “Now, focus on the target, make sure your eye line is on it and not somewhere else.” Dylan explained and I closed one eye, aiming at the target, letting out a deep breath before pulling the trigger, hitting the metal plate straight where a chest would be on a person.

 I grinned, feeling adrenalized as I took my place again, aiming at the head of the target before pulling the trigger once again. The bullet had clipped the side of the object, groaning a bit as I must’ve moved slightly.

 “Hey, you’re actually pretty good at this though. You wanna use the assault rifle?” He asked me and my eyes lit up, nodding my head excitingly. I pushed the safety button on the pistol, handing it to Dylan as he brought it back to the table, grabbing the two rifles, giving me one of them. Dylan showed me how to check the clip, before wrapping the strap around my for safe measures. “Ready?” Dylan asked and I nodded my head, propping the gun against my shoulder, looking down the laser sights.

 Dylan counted down from three as we shot a few rounds when he said go. I stopped shooting and watched as Dylan had shot a few other targets, biting my lip as I placed the gun back into position, attempting to focus on hitting the other targets that are farther away from me. I managed to hit all of them and I grinned, placing the safety on, laying the rifle against my side. I glanced to my left, noticing Dylan’s eyes are on me and I grinned, walking over to him.

 “This was really fun Dylan.” I muttered and he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

 “I’m glad you’re having fun, but, there’s one gun you haven’t tried yet and there’s a couple watermelons left.” He smirked and my lips parted, nodding my head repeatedly.

 “Yes. Oh my god, yes.” I squealed, walking over to the table with Dylan, placing the rifle back onto it, grabbing a pump shotgun. Dylan grabbed the two watermelon, placing them on the stand and ran back over, grabbing the other shotgun.

 We walked over towards the stand, both of us glancing at each other as I pushed the safety off, cocking the gun. I grinned, pointing it at the watermelon, pushing on the trigger and watched as the watermelon exploded, juice spraying towards us. I flinched as the cold liquid hit my skin, laughing loudly as Dylan aimed at his target, doing the same thing, doubling the red watermelon juice on our skin.

 After we put the guns away, Dylan had called Joost, letting him know that we were done with the guns and can come get them as he led me back to the car. Dylan drove us back to my apartment, our hands never parting as he drove with them in his lap, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand.

 He turned off the vehicle after parking in the apartment building’s parking lot, both of us got out of the car, walking into the building. I unlocked my door, both of us heading inside, Dylan closing the door behind him. I slipped off my shoes, feeling Dylan’s arms wrapping around my waist, his head resting in the crook of my neck.

 “I’m so glad we got to do this.” He whispered and I smiled, blushing slightly as my fingers slid over his hands. I glanced back at him slightly, his lips pressing against my cheek.

 “I had so much fun today Dyl. It’s literally the best date I’ve ever been on and I’m glad that it was with you. I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years.” I muttered, turning around, my hands softly gripping his forearms.

 “You have?” He asked and I nodded, smiling softly at him. One of his hands trailed up to my cheek, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve been in love with you for a little over a year now.” Dylan whispered, resting his forehead against mine.

 “God, you’re incredible.” I quietly told him, my eyes fluttering shut. Dylan’s finger hooked under my chin, tilting my head back slightly as my eyes opened, staring into his beautiful honey brown eyes.

 “Do you usually kiss on the first date?” He asked and I shook my head, his face falling a bit.

 “But, I think I can make an exception for you.” I whispered and his eyes lit up, both his hands pressed against my cheek, leaning down, pressing his lips against mine softly. I let out a small gasp, feeling his soft lips against mine as my hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer to me. Dylan pulled away from me, his lips dragging against mine before connecting them again. I slid my hands up his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers running through the back of his hair.

 I pulled away from him, smiling widely as he pressed his lips to my forehead. “I should get going.” Dylan muttered, his fingers running through my hair.

 “Do you have to?” I mumbled, playing with the baby hairs on his neck, glancing up at him. “Please stay here, with me.” I pleaded. Dylan’s other hand rubbed circles on my waist, smiling softly at me.

 “Well, if my girl wants me to stay, I guess I should stay, shouldn’t I?” He smirked and I giggled, nodding my head, my heart swelling at his words. My girl. I intertwined our fingers, leading him to my bedroom, both of us getting on the bed, finally being able to curl my body against his, cuddling him.

 “I love you…” Both of us whispered at the same time. I glanced up at him, smiling before resting my head on his chest again. This day couldn't have gone any better.

#dylan o'brien #dylan x reader #dylan imagine #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien imagines #dylan o'brien fanfiction #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x reader imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski fanfiction #the internship #stuart twombly #stuart x reader #stuart imagine #stuart twombly x reader #stuart twombly x reader imagine #stuart twombly imagine #stuart twombly imagines #stuart twombly fanfiction #fluff #loads of fluff #the maze runner #maze runner

[lilacsolanum]

For your meme: if Jake's parents Cannot Deal with him after the war, what about Rachel's family? Saddler's family? Can Jordan or Sarah look at Jake in the eye? Does Dan want to punch something every time Jake's name is mentioned? Does Naomi flinch every time she hears the name Cassie (or any other Animorph's names)?

I THINK ABOUT POST WAR BERENSONS MORE THAN MOST PEOPLE.—Naomi Berenson had a begrudging affection for the Hork-Bajir, but Toby she would never be truly at ease with Toby. She was too dangerous. It was one thing to be eternally armed with sharp blades, but ultimately be too stupid to really know what to do with them. It was another to be a seven foot alien and also understand California zoning laws You couldn’t really tell the Hork-Bajir apart, not without really knowing them and picking out some inane detail, but you always knew which one was Toby. She walked with a heaviness and a purpose that the others just didn’t have.Naomi knew it was Toby walking toward her, and she tensed.Toby handed her four envelopes, all pink, all smelling of Rachel’s favorite perfume. Naomi recognized the scent. It was what she used to wear, before Rachel made it her signature.Naomi was too empty inside to cry. The loss of a child was a pain far beyond anything with which the body could react.“She gave this to me,” said Toby gently, “To give to you if she died.”Naomi took the envelops, her heart fluttering sickly against her numb emotions. “Thank you,” she said.Toby nodded, then left.There were four letters. Mom, dad, Jordan, Sara.Naomi put them in her purse, then into a suitcase, then into a dresser drawer in her new house. It took her ten months to open them. She read hers in a bathtub, soaked both in sweet smelling oils and Belvedere, and she cried in a screaming way while feeling entirely distant. It was a step toward healing, which was a scarred thing for a mother, but a possible thing.Rachel’s letter said many things. Big things, small things. Least of all, it said to not to hold it against Jake.She hadn’t spoken to her nephew since that day. There had been no time. Jake had ceased to be the too serious child her in-laws were in the process of spoiling, and had become a symbol and a legend far out her reach. It was all for the best. If she had seen Jake the day she finally understood what had happened above Earth that day, she would currently be in jail.When she did finally contact him, she thanked him, because without his guidance of her sadistic daughter, worse consequences than the loss of her life would have befell them all. Then, she requested that they never, ever speak again. Jake understood entirely.

—

Naomi sends Rachel’s letter to Dan in the mail. He receives it, reads it, and cries for the first time since he was a boy. The sensation was disturbing. He was disturbed to find he felt sick afterwards, almost hungover. There’s a reason he left tears up to the women.

Rachel’s letter specifically told him to never forget about Jordan and Sara. It was the last request she ever made of him, his poor daughter who had gone through so much while he slept with P.A.’s in Connecticut. That night, he promised himself and her memory that he would never forget about his other two daughters, no matter how busy his life got. Even if he was never quite sure what to do with Jordan and Sara. Even if the longer he spent away from his daughters, the less connected he felt to them.

He never kept his promise.

—

Jake had to wait a while to talk to George and Ellen.

Life was a dizzy affair after the war. There was this event and that medal, this conversation and that handshake. The Animorphs were much too busy learning how to find the right camera and how to attach a lav mic to tie up loose ends. There came a time, finally, after the three sent Ax back to his homeworld (an event that was shown on all networks simultaneously) that they finally had time to talk.

Marco pulled Jake from his hotel room. They went into Cassie’s. Cassie sat on her bed, Jake at the desk, and Marco remained standing. This elevated him, made him larger. In these matters, he was the new general.

He looked at the two of them. “David,” he said.

David’s parents were a liability. They Animorphs had a certain image to uphold, an image that was very important. Jake had to kiss babies, Cassie had to wear skirts, and Marco had to always smile. This was their life now. They couldn’t have a story leak about about the Andalite bandits clearly abducting, then losing, a child. Too many Yeerks knew it had happened, least of all the ones in David’s family.

It was decided, by Cassie, that they would tell David’s parents that he had been a hero. That he had tried to fight, and had failed. That he died in battle, wrapped in the body of a golden lion.

It was decided, by Marco, that he was the one who would track down the family and speak to them. Marco was the only one who could swallow it all down, and truly stomach the lie.

Marco told them it went well. He said the story he made up held weight. Surpisingly-unsurprisingly, David’s parents wrote a book about him. It was called The Seventh Animorph. People spoke of his heroics more than they did of Tobias. 

After the book’s release, Jake drove to his aunt and uncle’s. They hadn’t been in much contact. Ellen and George had isolated themselves and their family over the years. It wasn’t a sudden shut down, or a finality of events, but a slow freeze that crept through the family like lips turning blue. There was Ellen and George, with wet faces and red eyes, mourning their son and their sanity. Then, there was less of them. Then, there was nothing.

They let Jake in with solemn faces. They offered him dry scones and weak tea. Jake waved it all away. He was in no position to accept even the humblest of offerings.

He explained what truly happened with David, leaving out David’s unsavory ending. He told them that it was David’s morphing Saddler that created the miracle, and that David’s murder of the half-dead shell-boy solved the mystery of the elevator.

Ellen stood up, pushed her shoulders back, and spat on him.

Jake didn’t know what to do. He had rehearsed every angle of this conversation, but had never anticipated that particular reaction. It was animal, uncouth and undignified, and on some level, Jake knew he deserved it.

“I know it’s hard to understand,” Jake said calmly, using his firmest tone, “But it is the truth.”

That’s when the screaming began. Jake said nothing. This outcome, he had expected. He bore it as best he could and, an hour later, when it hadn’t subsided, he quietly excused himself, and left.

He never saw Ellen and George again, and he never would.

—-

There should be a word for the friends of a sibling, Jordan thought. It’s not that they’re important to you, not really, but they’re consistent and comforting. Cassie had slept over at Rachel’s house so many times that she had her own toothbrush in the bathroom. Every summer, Naomi organized a late-July visit to The Gardens, and while Jordan and Sara had a rotating cast of friends, Rachel always brought Cassie. Cassie was a sort of family member, in her own little way. Berenson-adjunct.

Jordan never knew Cassie that well, but she knew enough to see the changes in her. She wore make-up, now, and pantyhose. She had to, to get people to listen. Jordan was eighteen, and she had already learned that lesson.

Cassie was on the TV, rambling about this, that, or the other. Yellowstone, Hork-Bajir, Brazil, who cared. Jordan didn’t. She turned off the TV, relishing in her ability to do so.

Jordan had been living on her own for six months. She’d moved out while her mom was at work. She lived alone in a nice, new apartment, one that was just a few blocks from the Santa Barbara Andalite tourist center. This suited Jordan. She worked at the Cinnabon. She liked Andalites a lot, and was always especially patient with them, even when they were arrogant and frustrating. She made the staff keep it a secret that she was Rachel Berenson’s sister. She missed her big sister terribly, but she’d been young and malleable when it happened, and she survived, and she didn’t want the shadow to hang over her any more.

That’s why she left her mother’s house as soon as she could. She needed to be in complete control of her life. She needed to decide what to watch, when she wanted to watch it, even if that meant Cassie was on the screen.She couldn’t have done it without Jake. He’d helped her load everything into a truck, and went shopping with her to buy the sort of things a freshly eighteen-year-old didn’t have. He paid for the apartment, actually. She never could afford to live here, not on a Cinnabon salary.

Jordan stretched out on her brand new couch, very specifically not caring that she was still wearing shoes. She turned the TV back on, just to see Cassie’s face.

—

Sara never moves out. Sara lives with her mother for so long that, eventually, her mother lives with her. Sara marries half-heartedly, and he moves into the house that Rachel’s reward money built. He’s a nice boy, attractive and simple, and he doesn’t mind the attachment Sara and her mom have for one another. Sara likes to be needed, and her mother needs to have Sara. It it up to eldest daughters to challenge their mothers, while the youngest daughters provide stability and comfort. Sara does her job well.

— 

Jean and Steve Berenson felt sick with how much had slipped past them. But who could blame them?

The Sharing was a healthy, helpful organization, they thought, and they were proud that Tom had taken such a strong interest. Jake spent entirely too much time with Marco, but little Marco clearly needed Jake’s influence. Their boy was good, and Marco was without a mother and had much too much freedom. Their boys were both so, so good.

A childless house meant they could discuss what needed to be discussed. They discussed Jean not bringing in any more money, relying on Steve to take on clients he had no time for. They discussed Steve using his long office hours as an excuse to just not come home. They discussed Steve’s shirts smelling like his secretary’s perfume, and his secretary avoiding Jean’s eyes whenever she visited. “You’re doing exactly what Naomi did to Dan,” Jean would say, tear choked and desperate, and Steve would scream, “You’re not! Fucking! Listening!”

It was hard to notice that they were fighting in a war when Jean and Steve were locked in one themselves.

It was a well known fact that a child’s death often dissolves a marriage, but Steve and Jean survived against all odds. There was no such blueprint for couples that lost one child, who was an imposter the entire time, because their other child sent their niece to kill him in a kamikaze mission. Steve and Jean had been through more than they could sort through, and the only people they had were each other.

When the war ended, Jean and Steve renewed their vows. They invited Jake, but he was not in the ceremony.

They were as relieved as they were horrified that he had left Earth in a rogue Yeerk vehicle. They never spoke of it, but all three knew that a love without like was all the family had these days. They loved Jake, really and truly, but it so hard to look at him and not see their eldest. Jake would never say it, but it was just as hard for him to see the two people who had been so close, and had noticed nothing.

Every year, Steve invites Dan and George for Rosh Hashanah. They never come.

#animorphs #overzelos #zelos u da mvp #berensons #do not think of the berensons for more than 10 seconds #it is very sad